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aliasimagines · 3 years

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It Was You All Along // Dave Lizewski

requested by a lovely anon 💕

Can u write dave x fem!reader where reader Always had a crush on him but he kinda ignored reader bc of Katie but then someone popular asks reader out and he gets jealous and y/n dresses up super hot and he realizes he fucked up

word count: 1809

a/n: i hope this is close enough! ❤️ (i couldn't think of a different title but this one reminds me of Agatha All Along xd)

"Hey, Dave! My folks are gone for the weekend and I thought we could have an X-men watch party. Wanna come?"

"Sorry I can't, I'm hanging out with Katie."

"Again?" you ask a bit louder than intended,causing a few people to look at you in the hallway. You continue with a lower voice "Aren't you like, tired of all the lying? Like, what if she finds out that you're not actually gay, hm? Cause you know she will, eventually."

"Why do you care so much?!" Dave says, clearly frustrated.

You raise an eyebrow.

"Oh why would I? Maybe because we have been best friends since diapers, you stupid asshole!" you say not caring if some students hear you or not, anymore. "But you know what, you are right. I shouldn't care. Go play pretend with Katie but don't come to me, crying when you end up getting your heart broken."

"Don't worry, I won't." he snaps back. And you turn around and leave but not before flipping him off. You felt the angry tears rolling down your cheeks as you zigzagged between the chattering teenagers.

You couldn’t believe how Dave could be so blind! He only had eyes for Miss Perfect. Whom by the way, is a real bitch and would go back to ignoring Dave or calling him a freak if it wasn’t for his little gay act.

Somehow you made your way over to the restroom and locked yourself into one of the booths.

Dave couldn’t even see you as a potential “love-interest”. Eventhough you were the one who always were there for him, you were always there when he called, running to him like a lost puppy. And he couldn’t even care less. And you hate him for it. But you hate yourself more for still liking him.

It’s not like you can do something about it, if you could, you would have. But that’s not how it works, so you are just crying your guts out on the toilet trying not to think about Dave.

In all honesty, you have no idea how you made it through the day. You almost cried during biology but you caught yourself after a few lonely tears. You could feel Dave’s gaze on you but there was no way you would look at him. As soon as the last bell rang you were out of school, hurring past Tod and Marty, not being in the mood for them either.

The next day wasn’t any different, you didn’t hang with Dave, Tod and Marty like you normally do. You didn’t sit with them at lunch, instead walked over to the only empty table you saw and placed your tray there. You mounched on your food, completely unaware of your surroundings until you hear the chair next to you being pulled out. You look up to see Matthew Greendale, resident hottie of the school sit next to you.

"Hey, sorry, it's not a problem if I sit here, right?" he asks. You eyed him suspiciously.

"No, it's fine."

It's fine?! You mentally scold yourself. You never even spoke to this guy, outside of literature in first year. Why would he sit next to you?

"I didn't want to sit with all the other "popular jocks" he answered you unspoken question while taking a bite of his canteen-hamburger. “They’re fun and everything but it’s nice to get away from them sometimes.”

You think of your friends who are sitting a few tables away and you can’t help but agree with Matthew.

“Yeah, I feel you.” you say without thinking.

“Hey..We used to sit next to each other in freshman year, didn’t we? It’s y/n ,right?”

You nod with a smile, honestly being surprised that he remembers you.

“Yeah!”

“I haven’t really seen you around a lot. But when I do you are always hanging with those comic book nerds.”

“Hey! Comics are great.”

He puts his hands up in a defense.

“Oh no! I didn’t mean it as an insult. Some comics are good, my little brother made read one last month. It was actually great.”

“What comic was it?”

“Oh, uhm..It was about some kind of blind dude in a devil costume.”

“Daredevil?” you ask with a giggle.

“Yes, that one!” he laughs too.

The two of you continue talking until the end of lunch break. He is surprisingly fun to talk to and he even offers to walk you to your next class after lunch. You had such a good time you didn’t even think about Dave, heck, you didn’t even notice him literally glaring daggers into Matthew.

“What’s up with you, dude?” Tod asks snapping Dave out of it.

“Yeah, Dave. What the shit is going on with you and Y/N?” Marty asks too.

Dave forrows is eyebrows. Yes, what the shit is going on with the two of you? Every since yesterday's 'fight' with you he can't stop thinking. About how he spends most, if not all of his time either with being Kick-Ass or, rather with Katie. It used to be different. He spent every second with you and he just threw you away so he could maybe get laid. And sure, Katie may be hot as fuck but she is.. Well, she is not you.

"We had a fight, yesterday. I.. And she was right." he explains with a grimace. "But why the fuck is that Greendale asshole is with her?"

"You jealous or something, dude?"

"Wha- Of course I am not jealous! Why would I be? You guys are nuts."

Jealous… The word rolled around in his mouth like a new flavored milkshake he never tasted before.

Could he be… Jealous? He never thought of you that way, you were always his best friend. Just that. But.. The more he thinks about it the more he can't stop that twist like feeling in his stomach.

That night he can't focus on crime fighting. All his thoughts are tied to you. Whether he likes it or not, memories of you keep popping up in his mind. How didn't he notice your beautiful smile before? And your laugh? It's like a beautiful melody. And… Gosh! When did he become such a sappy teenager? Oh and another thing.. He kept trying to think of something else, anything else like Katie for example but he doesn't care anymore!

Dave goes home early with a frustrated growl. The remaining hours of the night he spends with tossing and turning and daydreaming instead of sleeping.

(the next afternoon, Atomic Comics)

Dave bangs his head against the wood table once again. A tired groan leaves his lips when he hears Tod almost choking on his iced coffee.

"What the tunk, Tod?" Marty and Dave ask almost at the same time. The dirty blonde haired boy keeps pointing outside the huge window that they are sitting next to at Atomic Comics.

"Is that fucking y/n?!"

Now all three of them look outside the shop and see you, all dressed up nad seemingly waiting for someone.

"Holy fuck!" Dave whispers. He stares at you, with his mouth a gap before jumping up from the booth they were sitting at and rushing outside the store.

"Y/n! Y/-" he yells almost tripping on thin air.

"Dave?" you question, quickly turning towards him. Damn, you missed him. No! Yeah, you did… "What do you want?"

"What do I- What, can't I talk to you?"

"If you wanted to talk you would have in these past days!" you say. Yes, you might have missed him, but it's not like you're gonna show it. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I am waiting for my date to show up."

"Your.. Your what, now?!"

"My date"

"You can't go on a date!"

"And why is that, Lizewski?"

"Lizewski? Really, you're calling me by my surname? Are we in such a bad place right now?"

"I don't know, you tell me. Are you going to tell me what i can and can't do, hm?"

"I didn't mean it like that. I just…"

"What, it's fine when you say it but when I do it with you about Katie I'm the bad friend?"

"No,it's just-"

"Sorry. Matt's here." you point to the street across the road where you saw the boy walk towards you. "I gotta go."

You start walking away but Dave grabs your wrist.

"Please, don't." he mumbles.

"Why not?" you snap at him but your expressions soften upon your eyes land on his saddened face.

"I- because I don't want you with him. O-or anyone."

You raise an eyebrow.

"What?"

He took a deep breath before looking around. Matt was waiting patiently by the traffic light so he could cross the road. Dave quickly began explaining.

"You were right. About Katie. I was such a dickhead, I am so sorry, y/n. I am sorry for ignoring you over her and and.." from the corner of his eye he sees the traffic light turn green. "Shit! I don't want you to go out with Greendale cause I.. Because I like you. Like really fucking like you. And oh my god you look so fucking hot in this outfit, not that you're not always hot but holy shit. I know we are just friends and you don't think of me that way but I ju-"

"Oh my god! Do you ever shut up?" you yell before pressing your lips to his. Dave stumbled back a little, but quickly recovered and kissed back. Your hands cupped his face and his hands grabbed your waist in response. You both tilled your heads, deepening the kiss earning loud knocking from Marty and Tod as they watched the whole scene through the window. Not that you noticed any of it. You didn't hear the passing by car honk at you nor the yells or whistles. You also did not notice Matthew walking away with a sad smile after seeing the two of you. Your touches intertwine and you're pretty sure you heard Dave moan slightly which causes you to giggle into the kiss. You both pull away gasping for air. You look down at your shoes, hoping to hide your flushed cheeks. Dave scratches his back and looks around nervously only to see his two idiotic friends making kissy faces. He lifts his middle finger for them before clearing his throat.

"So.. Khm.. I guess you like me too?"

You let out a soft chuckle.

"Yeah, I do." you say looking at him with a smile.

"That's.. Fuck. That's great." he replied genuinely happy. "Wanna get out of here?"

You nod and you take off. You take Dave's hand and he intertwines your fingers with a smile. Maybe he is truly a superhero. He helps people and he gets the girl of his dreams. The happy ending.

Dave Lizewski taglist : @sethcohenluvr @your-hispanichufflepuff

#dave lizewski x reader #Dave lizewski one shot #dave lizewski imagine #kick ass imagine #kick ass x reader #kick ass one shot #gif not mine #aaron taylor johnson #alias imagines

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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Why do people get hung up on whether a gay person in media is a good or bad representation of them? I'm gay and I can tell you we aren't all the same? Being gay is our 1 common trait. So as long as they're gay then you've done it. Gay people can be kind, mean, racist, open, kinky, reserved, shy, outgoing, sexist, and literally anything else under the human experience.

Because I am perpetually hungry, let's tell a story about cookies.

You are a bright-eyed, optimistic, baker in the making. Your goal is to wow the world with your culinary skills, so of course you head to The Best Baking School for your degree. Over the course of your studies you learn how to perfect a thousand different cakes, an equal number of pies, and more versions of brownies than most would even assume exist. But cookies... oh, cookies are your passion! You can't wait to learn about the wealth of cookies you can make too. Then, sure enough, that part of your education finally arrives.

Funny thing is though, it's just chocolate chip.

Surely there's been some mistake? The cookie experience is vast and nuanced! Why in the world are your instructors — supposedly the best in the world — reducing cookies to a single class about baking chocolate chip and chocolate chip alone? Hell, why are cookies so sparse in the curriculum as a whole? You're never asked to bake them as a demonstration, or practice with them, and they're definitely not a given across everyone else's baking experience. Cakes, pies, and brownies... they're the default. Cookies are comparatively rare and when you do get to study them, everyone is super focused on the chocolate chip.

Then you graduate and head out into the world, only to find that pretty much everyone is as cookie-blind as your school. A few years back you never would have found cookies in the average grocery store and yeah, the fact that there's a cookie section now is great, but it's, uh... all chocolate chip! Many bakeries still don't carry cookies at all, but when they do it's - again - chocolate chip. Chocolate chip out in restaurants. Chocolate chip at the bake sale. Your friend invites you over and proudly presents a massive sweets tray that includes a single, sad looking, chocolate chip cookie. They beam at you in pride. Isn't it so great?

"Uh..." you say. "Well..."

Every once in a while someone will switch out milk chocolate for dark chocolate, or add nuts alongside chocolate chips. One bakery was even crazy enough to exclude chocolate chips entirely! Crazy according to the press, anyway. Because for years now you've been shaking your head, wondering what exactly is so progressive about realizing that sugar cookies exist. You've found other bakers interested in cookies and, by god, there are thousands. So many flavors! Gluten free and allergy conscious! Someone even made a sweets tray that was predominantly cookies, can you believe it? The problem is, almost none of them are mainstream. Your friend baking cookies out of their personal kitchen is doing fantastic work, but their baking doesn't have the impact that those grocery chains and established bakeries do. Their work isn't going to fix your school's curriculum. Too many people still think that cookies are exotic somehow. They're not the default. And when they do acknowledge their existence, it's chocolate chip over and over. Until one of them adds those nuts and suddenly the whole country is losing its mind about how inspired, creative, progressive their baking is. Meanwhile, you're ready to scream because that baker doesn't even know that something as "exotic" as a gingersnaps exist!

The worst part? Most of these cookies are... bad. Like they exist, yeah, but good god most don't taste good. And that's the whole point of a cookie?? What is the point of buying cookies if the cookies themselves are awful? You go to these bakeries, these restaurants, your friend's house, and you try the very limited cookies on offer, only to find that they've been sloppily baked. Doesn't anyone care that the baker burned their cookies to a crisp? That another straight up forgot to add sugar? This one dropped his on the floor and still tried to serve it to you! But the overall sense is that you should be grateful for getting any cookies at all. "That cookie is an offense to my taste buds," you say and people shake their head at you, disappointed. "I liked the taste of it," one says. "If you don't like it, go buy a different cookie!" Well... easier said than done. "It's not that bad," another says, shrugging in defeat. "I mean yeah, I don't really like it, and the baker stopped making them two years ago... but I'm just happy to have had any cookie at all, you know?" You do know, but that doesn't mean it's any less frustrating. You look at the hundreds of cakes available, these bakers spending decades perfecting their recipes, and wish cookies had even a fraction of that work put into them. You find people who agree with you, absolutely, but there's this this prevailing sense that a cookie is a cookie. Any cookie will do. Supposedly.

Except go long enough and you feel like you're ready to lose your mind. You take some poor person by the shoulders and go, "Doesn't this bother you? Doesn't this make you furious? There is more to the cookie world than these three flavors, 90% of which is chocolate chip! And we deserve well-made cookies, not the crap they've been upholding as the next culinary masterpiece!"

But this person just shakes their head. "Well of course there's more to cookies than three flavors. There's a huge variety of cookies! I know that."

"Yes, but the world isn't selling that variety."

"Of course they are! Just last week I had an oatmeal raisin. That's amazing!"

"Yeah and how many years did it take you to find that?"

"Well..."

"And how did that oatmeal raisin cookie taste?"

Your prisoner pulls a face. "Ugh, not good. Oatmeal raisin is definitely not for me. It's hard as a rock! I really don't understand why someone would want to eat that on a regular basis."

"But it's not supposed to be hard as a rock!" you cry, waving your arms. "That's the problem! Oatmeal raisin is so goddamn rare and then the one time we get it, it was badly baked. Of course people are turned off by it. Everyone who already loves oatmeal raisin is getting pissed because their favorite cookie is misrepresented, they're unlikely to see more of them now, and everyone is still serving the most tasteless chocolate chip cookies I've ever had, acting like this is the pinnacle of cookie baking! Do you even know that a macron exists?"

The person pats your hand consolingly. "Of course I do. My roommate's sister's boyfriend used to bake macrons, you know. I don't know why you're so hung up on this. Cookies can be whatever the baker wants them to be. Provided they're a flat-ish sweet cake, they're still a cookie!"

You hang your head, giving up. "Yes, they can be so many things, but they're not. Let me know if you ever find a bakery actually making the variety you keep acknowledging exists. Bonus points if those cookies are edible. My soul if they're delicious, as a cookie should be."

"You know," they say, still patting your hand. "There's a bakery making chocolate chip with dark chocolate next year. Everyone is talking about it. You should think about buying one before they take it off the menu!"

You contemplate just walking into the ocean.

Now, incredibly long metaphor concluded... switch out "cookies" for "queer rep"! The representation matters because no, just making them gay isn't enough right now. You're right that queer people can be anything under the sun, but right now media isn't providing us with that variety. It's not enough to acknowledge that such variety exists, it actually has to make it into our books and onto our screen. Taking just characters who identify as gay and putting aside the HUGE variety of other identities for a moment (of which we are mostly lacking in terms of rep), where are the gay asexuals? The gay people of color? The disabled gays? Trans gays? Did your gay character appear for just a handful of episodes? Were they killed off? Are they nothing more than a stereotype or comic relief? Is this the only gay character in your entire story? We need to ask questions like this because though gay people can be anything under the sun, our media landscape has only shown a miniscule portion of that variety.

Today, even in 2021, our representation of gay people is still pretty limited to:

You are only coded as gay and evil

You are only coded as gay and queerbaited

You are canonically gay, but a cis, ablebodied, white person

You are canonically gay, but were written terribly/killed off/punished by the narrative/generally making the real gay people watching you feel awful about their identity

You are canonically gay, but you're not human. Gotta other the queerness by making you an alien/robot/fantasy being

You are canonically gay and that's your entire existence. There is one (1) narrative of how you knew by the time you were four, never questioned your identity after that, suffered through a family that rejected you, and now all your major arcs revolve around being gay. You are gay and that is it.

Despite being a list of six, that's still incredibly limiting. Are there exceptions to such a list? Always, but that doesn't mean the list isn't still dominating. We can look at any individual gay character and say, "Of course they can be evil/white/killed off/a joke/etc. because gay people can be anything at all," but when we look at the trends, when we look at ALL the media together, we see that gay people aren't actually depicted as being anything... they're depicted as being these handful of things, severely limiting how gayness is represented. Bad rep. If you hit up the bakery and question why there's only versions of chocolate chip available yeah, the baker can go, "But cookies can be any flavor! Including chocolate chip!" They are not, technically, wrong. The problem is not that chocolate chip exists, but that chocolate chip dominates and other flavors are rare, ignored entirely, or baked so badly it's actively damaging to that flavor as a whole. Yeah, your gay character can be mean. Or kinky. Or murdered by the story. But when so many gay characters are mean and kinky and murdered by their stories — when you're not getting other versions to balance that out and gay characters are still rare enough that it's just 1-2 characters trying to carry representation for an entire franchise — you start realizing that the claim of "Gay people can be anything else under the human experience" is an easy way to shut down the conversation of whether that variety actually exists in our storytelling yet.

It's not enough for the baker to acknowledge that yeah, of course there are hundreds of cookie flavors and of course cookies taste great! They've actually got to learn how to bake them properly and fill up their store with them.

#queer #mymetas

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collecting-stories · 4 years

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Bake-off - JJ (Outer Banks)

Request: can you write something with jj where the reader bakes a lot :) i understand if not, but i bake a lot (especially pies, i’m rambling sorry!) and thought this would be cute

A/N: So, since it’s JJ the baking had to include weed. 😛

Outer Banks Masterlist

///

The tray of banana nut muffins sat on John B’s table, half eaten. It was long before Big John died that there was ever even a homemade birthday cake in the house, neither men having much luck in the kitchen. But the muffins didn’t belong to John B anyway, they were JJ’s, which was even more peculiar, according to Kiara. If the Routledge men were shit at baking than the Maybank’s had never even turned on an oven.

“They’re a gift.” JJ shrugged, laying across the laz-e-boy on the porch and munching on one.

“A gift?” That was more shocking than their existence. JJ didn’t really get gifts and definitely not baked goods.

“Did you mow someone’s lawn?” Pope asked, reaching for the muffin only to have JJ Flop away from him at the last second.

“You could say that.” He grinned, attempting and failing a wink.

“Ew, JJ.” Kiara groaned and walked back into the living room, emerging a moment later with one, “oh my god they’re edibles.”

“What?” Pope asked.

“There’s weed in them.”

“Yes there is.” JJ grinned, “I ate two last night and was cooked. It’s some good shit.”

“Is it your shit?” Kiara asked, taking a bite.

“Obviously, I said it was good didn’t I? I got the best shit on the island Kie.” He replied.

“I know you didn’t make them so who made them for you?”

JJ was a purest, as he dramatically referred to it. He rolled his own joints, dried his own weed for vaping, and he didn’t do edibles. At least he didn’t until one of the guys in the kitchen at the hotel turned 21. A box of cookies sat on the counter in the kitchen, marked Andrew. Double chocolate-chocolate chip, according to Andrew, and packed with a enough weed to “have you cooked after half of it”.

“They’re delicious man, you gotta try one.” Andrew had insisted.

“I don’t do edibles.”

“You’ll regret it.”

And naturally, being told that there was the possibility for regret was a guaranteed way to ensure JJ did something. His bizarre fear of missing out dictated that he have no regrets and so he took one and ate the whole thing right there in the kitchen. And it was good...it was so good it didn’t even taste like weed and he was two seconds from telling Andrew he’d been dupped when he felt the familiar ease settle over him.

“Where’d you get these?” He asked, slipping three into a plastic bag and dropping them in his backpack.

“That girl that works in the kids area.” Andrew shrugged.

You were a glorified babysitter, in charge of occupying people’s toddlers while they went out to play golf or shop or go to the spa. Not the greatest job in the world but the kids were usually easily contained and the parents always tipped well.

JJ knew you to see you, always wandering around with some kid or another attached to your hip, talking about Frozen or Descendants...he’d heard you duet a song from some Disney Channel movie with one of the little girls just last week. It made you seem a bit green honestly. He couldn’t imagine you doing anything less than innocent, especially making your own edibles.

He waited until after his shift to look for you, still wearing his white button up and vest but with his cargo shorts back on. You were outside supervising and participating in a game of soccer with a handful of eight year olds.

“Hey,” he called, waving to you as he walked up. You tossed the soccer ball back into the makeshift field and turned toward JJ, “Andrew said you made him those cookies, for his birthday.”

“Oh yeah,” you nodded, “I know he doesn’t like to smoke so...”

“Could you make me some?”

“Sure, what flavor?” You turned away for a moment to make sure all five of your children were still actively playing soccer and JJ took the opportunity to check you out. Your t-shirt advertised the hotel and hung loose on you. Shorts and a pair of running shoes completed the look and he was appreciative for the view of your legs.

“Chocolate peanut butter.” JJ decided.

Chocolate peanut butter cookies, snickerdoodles, brownies, blondies, coffee cake, you and JJ had slowly formed a friendship built on experimental edible recipes. He supplied the weed and you made him whatever baked goods he could think up. He had even downloaded the Tasty app and Pinterest for the sake of finding new desserts for you to tackle.

“So this girl just makes you whatever you want?” Kiara asked the next time a container of cookies appeared at John B’s house. Sugar cookies, with piped on icing that made them look like beach balls.

“It’s business Kie. I supply the weed from my cousin, she makes the edibles. We sell them too, it’s a very lucrative business.” JJ replied, eyes closed, laying in the hammock outside John B’s while he smoked.

Kiara was munching on a sugar cookie. She wasn’t really complaining about the edibles, her mom had been on her lately about the possibility of her smoking and the edibles were easier to hide. Especially because yours didn’t smell half as bad as some she’d had in the past. Mostly she was just curious about this girl that JJ was spending time with. He acted like it was casual but Kiara had known him for a long time and she knew JJ lacked the ability to hang out with a girl casually. Even they toed the line sometimes.

“So when can we meet your esteemed business partner?” Kiara asked.

“What?” JJ rolled his head to the side to look over at her, pushing his sunglasses down his nose. “Why do you wanna meet her?”

“Why don’t you want us to meet her?” She countered.

“I don’t care. You can meet her.” JJ replied, trying to act nonchalant about the whole thing. He couldn’t fool Kiara and he knew that but that didn’t stop him from trying. He didn’t want you to meet his friends, mainly because he liked having you all to himself. It meant your attention wasn’t divided four ways.

“These are burnt on the bottom.” You commented, sitting on the kitchen island beside a cooling rack of peanut butter cookies. The peanut butter was JJ’s favorite though you usually didn’t make them because of allergies.

“They’re fine.” JJ replied, munching on a cookie while he scrolled through tiktok. You rolled your eyes at him and held one up, turning it over to inspect the nearly black bottom of the cookie. JJ had sworn that he would keep an eye on them while you left to talk to your mom on the phone but he’d let the buzzer go two minutes before he finally took it out.

“At least you’re the only one eating them.” You remarked, taking a bite of the one in your hands. You scrunched up your nose at the taste of burnt cookie, “the high better be worth it.”

JJ put his phone down, pushing off the counter so that he could come over and stand in front of you. You raised an eyebrow as JJ moved your knees apart so that he could stand between your legs. He opened his mouth, letting out an ‘ahh’ and you rolled your eyes at him as you placed the burnt peanut butter cookie in his mouth.

“It’s burnt.” You reiterated, watching him chew the cookie. You had discovered that JJ could pace himself far better with a blunt than he could a batch of cookies. He’d eat three in a row and get cooked, an unusual occurrence for him. You ran a hand through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes. “Your hair is so greasy it literally stands up on its own.” You teased.

“I washed it!”

“The last time you went in the ocean does not count as a bath.” You replied. You continued to play with his hair as he leaned closer to you, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“You have off tomorrow?” JJ asked, still munching on his cookie.

“Yeah but my mom’s home all day.” You replied.

The experimental creating of edibles had led to a friendship and then a something in between. You weren’t quite ready to call JJ your boyfriend but you certainly weren’t entertaining the idea of anyone else. He spent all his time at your house when he wasn’t with his friends or working. Even when your mom was home and there was no baking, he hung around. At work he sought you out throughout the day, more than once crashing whatever activity you were doing with your kids.

“I was thinking you could come out on the boat with us.” JJ said. He was determined, now that he’d told Kiara he would, to introduce you to everyone. It certainly didn’t mean that he was planning on giving up his alone time with you but he’d concede to Kiara this time. “My friends wanna meet you.”

“Okay, I’d like that.” You replied, smiling at the implication that he was introducing you to his friends, “but I’m making them better cookies cause these are burnt.”

“There’s nothing wrong with them.”

“No but there’s something wrong with me for trusting you to watch the oven.” You said.

His eyes opened and he pouted at you. “I’m very responsible.”

“I know babe.”

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife @freckled-and-daydreaming @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @howdyherron @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @tragicmisfits @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @ssprayberrythings @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @jolomez @timotaychalabae

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roachsource · 2 years

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𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥? 𝐰/ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 | 𝐝𝐫. 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐩. 𝟏𝟒𝟐 you know it is. had to fuck around with someone of them to be used properly for rp, but do with em whatever you see fit x

❛ get to the point, quick. ❜

❛ that’s what we’re here for! ❜

❛ nah, you’re in good hands. ❜

❛ i like trying to make things out of change and chaos. ❜

❛ that’s what gets you off? ❜

❛ i’ll say anything’s possible. ❜

❛ i’ll start with: i drank too much. ❜

❛ that shit ain’t cheap. ❜

❛ it was the least i could do. it was truly enjoyable. ❜

❛ [person], particularly, had a loose tongue. ❜

❛ i’ll tell you what. huge fan! ❜

❛ you’re not gonna get a lot of fun out of that. ❜

❛ you got a little flavor of angry drunk in there. ❜

❛ you did a toast that had me laughing so hard. ❜

❛ i don’t think [person] has ever heard me be nice to them. ❜

❛ you guys were switching sub and dom throughout the entire dinner. ❜

❛ here’s what actually happened... ❜

❛ my memory, even with an aging brain, i sort of have a photographic memory. ❜

❛ brains don’t normally work that way. ❜

❛ i loved all of that. ❜

❛ that was submissive and dominant roles going back and forth. ❜

❛ this is boring. speed this up. ❜

❛ you guys were doing the “married couple” thing. ❜

❛ we have much more to discuss. ❜

❛ i’m just wondering, how can i enjoy swallowing his cum? ❜

❛ i think cum tastes absolutely disgusting. ❜

❛ is there a way he can just cum directly into my throat without me having to taste it? ❜

❛ is there something we can do to make his cum taste better? ❜

❛ most men don’t need you to swallow anything. ❜

❛ don’t ruin the orgasm and we’re all good. ❜

❛ i just wanna give you inside 101 on my current technique of wiping my ass, please hear me out. ❜

❛ i wipe back to front first but with my hand wrapped in a paper towel, using my fingers to kind of fling the leftover shit that may hang onto the surrounding area off, and into the bowl, then flush. ❜

❛ i am tall, i have long ass arms, hope this helps. ❜

❛ why not use a wet washcloth? ❜

❛ relax, my friend. ❜

❛ we all know what that is now. we’re all educated, thank you. ❜

❛ how else are you gonna learn what a rat-tail is? ❜

❛ did you do a lot of nut tapping when you were growing up? ❜

❛ oh, god, that was such a good nut tap. ❜

❛ we all had pretty cool dads. ❜

❛ there’s a hole in those nuts. ❜

❛ so i wasn’t a pussy for going to the hospital? ❜

❛ yeah, you were a pussy. ❜

❛ as someone who has some real trouble sleeping, some type of noise that’s consistent helps. ❜

❛ my wife is milking the poison out of me. ❜

❛ you mean cumming? he’s cumming? ❜

❛ it’s really kind of traumatic to the urethra, to keep doing stuff like that. ❜

❛ sounding devices are pretty cheap online. i could get you one if you want. ❜

❛ alright, you CAN do it. but make sure you film it for content. ❜

❛ i know better than to tell you no, because if i say no, that means you’ll likely do it. ❜

❛ oh, shit, you know me too well. ❜

❛ it wasn’t the kind burning they tell you to worry about when you got some kind of weird shit going on. ❜

❛ it’s like sticking your dick in a boiling pot of water. ❜

❛ remember when we talked about “get right to your point”? i had trouble tracking that. ❜

❛ you CAN irritate your penis from overstimulation. ❜

❛ oh, you’re gonna love this... ❜

❛ my name’s [name], and right now, i’m taking a piss. and i’m not just taking a piss, i’m taking about the fifteenth piss i’ve taken today. ❜

❛ i also shit a lot, like ten or eleven times a day. i don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. ❜

❛ i think i’m doing this a little too much. ❜

❛ why the hell am i pissing and shitting fifteen times a day? ❜

❛ here’s the deal, my friend. that is a medical problem. ❜

❛ it’s a medical problem. you need to be seen right away. ❜

❛ i worked out like two days ago for the first time in like five years. ❜

❛ my body was like, hey, guess what, we’re gonna take a lot of full shits. ❜

❛ don’t get me wrong, you got those pythons out and about right now. how do i get a gun show just like you? ❜

❛ these arms actually get in the way in weightlifting. ❜

❛ as you get older, you have to see a doctor. that’s the way it goes. ❜

❛ i’ll tell you the way i learned while growing up... ❜

❛ we all hate it. ❜

❛ peace and love, everybody. do what’s YOU. ❜

❛ my daughter is very woke, but she doesn’t like that word. ❜

❛ the more irrational it gets, the more likely we are to come back to rational. ❜

❛ too far? too much? ❜

❛ i love it. ❜

#phenomenal lines in this ep #podcast.#comedy.#mine.#prompt.#ask meme #rp ask meme #roleplay ask meme #roleplay meme #rp meme #meme

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thecandywrites · 3 years

Text

The Beginning of Stormbreaker Part 4 Finale

Ok, so unless you haven’t figured it out, Butternut- is my version of a Shae Nut, But the nuts are in this lovely fruit pictured above, that in my mind tastes like a creamy mango with hints of melon and papaya. And this lovely red apple looking fruit on the right is Dragon Heart Fruit which in my mind has the flavor of Lychee, mango and pinapple, still very tropical tasting. Also the lovely ladies above, on the top row on the left, that is Grat, Drad and Sarg’s mother, and on the left is Shari, Rhos’ and Esri’s mother.

Part 4

It took over a week of going back and forth to the dragon’s lair to get all the scales and usable leather, sinew and good bones along with the dragon’s small horde of gold, jewels and other precious items, which when divided evenly between Rhosland, Esri, Drad and Sarg along with equal portions allotted to their mothers and Orcoth in addition to Rhos and Esri’s already gathered pearls which Rhos and Esri gave a portion of the pearls to their mother, Grat and Orcoth so that all seven of them would be richer, despite the failed raid while Esri and Rhos kept all the beautiful shells to keep to make jewelry later.

Drad and Sarg happily ground down the good left over dragon bones into a fine powder back at camp while they rested and healed at remarkably fast rates, thanks to the dragon bone. By the time they had managed to forage all they could and the suits of armour for all four of them and three breast plates at least for Rhos’ and Esri’s mother as well as Orcoth, were done, they decided to head back to Skull Screamer, the four of them in the little row boat with extra large rafts tied to the boat behind them, that Sarg and Drad had built to carry all the smoked and preserved meat and fish and other foraged goods along with a few cuttings of the tree in the dragon’s cave and baskets that Drad and Sarg had woven themselves while they hung out at Rhos’ and Esri’s campsite out of the tall grasses to hold all the fruit from the tree and others and all the seeds left behind from the tree that had fallen in previous years that had been in a heap under the tree along with the fruits of the Butternut bush and hundreds of wild rose buds to make rose soap along with the ash from the smoker to get the lye to make the soap needed.

However when they came rowing back up Skull Screamer’s main river Rhos and Esri looked worriedly to Drad and Sarg as everyone in the village looked at them like ghosts before they noticed that once they came upon Drad and Sarg’s mother’s house both of their mothers and Orcoth came out of the house as both their mothers were so happy and overjoyed to see their children come back as Drad and Sarg pulled the boat and the rafts up onto the shore as they were immediately surrounded by everyone.

“You’re alive!” Shari cried as she embraced her daughters as her daughters embraced her in turn.

“Of course we are alive, why did you think we were dead?” Rhos asked her mother.

“Because Zash and his sons, got lost in fog and attacked Hurricane Breaker. And when Drad and Sarg’s horses along with many others came back without their riders and blood on their saddles, we assumed the worst and imagined that you and Esri had camped too close to the accidental battlefield and got caught up in it.” Shari cried.

“We heard the battle but it was at a distance and we stayed inside the tent until the sounds of the battle stopped, and after the battle ended we were approached by Captain Tilge of Hurricane Breaker and her warband of shieldmaidens. But once we explained what we were doing there and that Skull Screamer must have gotten lost in the fog and had no intention of attacking and thus, we had no intent to harm them or their clan and they believed us and believed that we were younglings because of our size and saw that we were unarmed and therefore not a threat, they had no quarrel with us and left us in peace and safety and even discouraged anyone else in Hurricane Breaker from coming to us and to leave us alone. In fact they happily shared a meal with us and struck up a friendly peace with Esri and I and to signify that peace, I gave her the tribute necklace I had given to Shadi and Esri gave her the bracelet that she had made for Baka as tribute that they gave us as bride gifts when we left but when they said that Tar had been killed, we knew we weren’t going to be marrying him and when Drad and Sarg found us and we healed them from their own wounds. And when they were healed enough to walk on their own we came back.” Rhos explained to her mother and others who had come to see her for themselves.

“What happened here while we were gone?” Rhos asked her mother.

“Well after Zash unwittingly got lost in the fog and accidentally attacked Hurricane Breaker, he and his men died in the raid. As did all of Zash’s sons, we thought only the few men of the other warbands survived and came back and reported that everyone else had died. So almost all the people who came to deliver bride gifts before you left, came and demanded them back since you would not be brides to Tar. And it’s only because Grat opened up her home to me that I had any place to go. The whole clan thought that you and Esri’s joining Tar’s family was a bad sign of disapproval from the gods and would confuse them and thus sent the fog that caused us to lose everyone that we did, so Shadi and Baka, they burned down our house in retribution for losing Tar and in the commotion they gave birth only a few days ago, both to girls.” Shari revealed as Rhos and Esri gasped in horror as they stared at their neighbors in outrage who by now were lowering their heads in shame and backing away.

“What kind of madness is this?! No! It was Zash’s and Tar’s own stubbornness and confusing leadership that led to us unwittingly attacking Hurricane Breaker and if it had not been for Shaman Orcoth who gave me prophetic advice that I and Sarg listened to his words and survived. And it was Rhosland and Esri who took us in and healed us and concealed us from Captain Tilge and did so in such a way to keep themselves and us above suspicion. Which takes courage and faith and loyalty. They have been blameless and Sarg and I both saw over the last week or so how Esri and Rhosland have been nothing but blessings for us. They healed us with medicine they instinctively know, they fed us from the game they were able to kill all on their own and they even shot down a bear and had victory over it. And then they found the hissing rocks which they realized wasn’t actually a cursed place but discovered that it was an old dragon’s home, the dragon had been trapped inside and had a tree growing from it’s chest to the roof of the place and when they investigated it, they collected the dead dragons scales and leather and made us these exquisite suits of armor and these weapons that have no compare and even used the bones to heal our own broken bones. Which is why we are at full health after only a week of sustaining almost fatal injuries. They are not a curse, they never were, they are our blessing and salvation and I am more than honored to have Rhos as my mate as is Sarg to have Esri. And just look what they were able to capture when they were given the right tools- they were more than successful.” Drad pointed out as he gestured to his suit of armor and then gestured to all the food and other supplies on the boat and on the rafts for emphasis as proof of what he was saying.

“So Mother Shari- I would be more than happy to build you a house of stone and timber to replace the one of bricks that you lost. And don’t worry about anything that you lost, I will see to it that you are given at least twice what you have previously lost. Thank you Mom for doing the right thing by taking her in.” Drad declared as he grasped her hands and comforted her.

“So, I have an announcement. Since Shadi and Baka had girls and that no one from Zash’s male line survived, as Tar’s First Commander of Captains, I hereby take the position of Warchief and I appoint Sarg as my Warlord and we will claim the neutral land that is just south of Hurricane Breaker and North of here since Rhosland and Esri are in a peace treaty with them. Since that land already gave us so much, it will give us more- still. And all those who did not get to take back their bride gifts to Rhosland and Esri are free to do so now that they are back. But know that if you do, you will not be welcome in Stormbreaker which is the clan I will be starting there, and all those that did and had a hand in burning down Shari’s house, will also not be welcome in Stormbreaker either and you will reap such unforgivable disrespect and never again will such things ever be permitted let alone tolerated.” Drad announced as Rhos had never been more proud of him as Esri and Rhosland put the tanned bear hide over their mother and comforted her and gave her, her fair share of the dragon’s horde.

Then Shari told her daughters exactly who had come and wanted what they gave back and remembered still who had given what before Esri and Rhosland spitefully got all of it out of their row boats and rafts and forced it back into the hands of those who had given it in the first place and wanted it back even though the others, out of fear of Drad and Sarg and their new announcement had tried to go back on their word and their previous choices before Rhos and Esri simply let the gifts fall to the ground at the giver’s feet and wanted nothing to do with them before they unloaded everything else into Grat’s house which she didn’t have that big of a house to begin with but all of them did their best to squeeze themselves and all that they had foraged and hunted into it as Esri and Rhos gave Orcoth, Grat and Shari some of the dragon bone powder as it healed Orcoth immediately so that he did not have to limp as Shari and Grat both seemed to regain some of their youth and vigor and soundness of mind and body.

“I tried to tell the clan that all of you were still alive and well but they didn’t believe me, but I think they will now.” Orcoth noted to Drad and Sarg who had readily accepted Sarg as his father also while they feasted on the smoked and preserved venison’s tenderloins and backstraps, the best parts of the venison along with the mushrooms and other foods that they had managed to forage for.

“You should take Rhos home with you and prove to the whole clan that you’re verile though Warchief Drad.” Orcoth suggested to Drad.

“Oh he already did.” Rhos laughed as she blushed prettily and beamed happily.

“But he needs to prove it to everyone else. Here, burn this in the fireplace. It will help Warchieftess.” Orcoth said to Rhosland as he gave her a small sack of incense.

“Come on, let’s show Shadi and Baka how it’s done at least.” Drad grinned giddily with a wink that made Rhos blush even harder.

“Ok fine.” Rhos agreed before she hugged everyone goodbye and took what meager possessions that her mother was able to save as Drad carried their portion of the food and other belongings to his own home that was close to Shadi’s and Baka’s house since he was the First Commander of Captains, he had the “privilege” of having a house close to Tar’s as they noticed that Rhos and Esri’s boat was now empty boats and rafts getting filled with the previous gifts that they had been given along with even more gifts and notes of deepest and most sincere apologies before Drad built a good fire in his stone fireplace before Rhos threw in small handful of incense into the fire and noticed the smell was heavenly as her whole body immediately reacted to it and she felt her whole body relax and her spirit soar and become happy as Drad then reverently made love to her with so much love and passion that Rhos lost count of how many times she had accepted her pleasure from him as the incense helped her forget all about the clan around them and Drad encouraged her to not hold back but to moan and keen and cry out in ecstacy as loud as she wanted so that he could make no mistake if he was truly pleasing her and quietly made her promise and swear to never fake her pleasure with him which she was all too happy to do as she was so overwhelmed with bliss she would have agreed to just about anything he asked of her.

Come morning, Shadi and Baka were disgusted that they had to endure the sounds of Rhos’ and Esri’s love making and demanded that Drad and Sarg take all who wanted to follow them with them but that they needed to leave sooner than later, while anyone who wanted to stay true to Skull Screamer was welcome to stay but that anyone from Skull Screamer that left to join Stormbreaker were never going to be welcome back again when Stormbreaker failed and imploded as Rhos readily agreed to those terms as an equal Warchieftess to Shadi with the stipulation that any from Skull Screamer who wished to come into Stormbreaker would first need to make their peace with herself, her sister and especially their mother before they would be welcomed into Stormbreaker as this was announced in Skull Screamer’s town hall for the whole clan to hear.

It took another week for everyone to pack all of their things and break their houses down to reuse the lumber and load them onto new boats they built themselves but over three quarters of Skull Screamer left to join Stormbreaker as Drad and Rhos used the stones from the Dragon’s own old lair as the foundation stones for their own house since just nearby was the wild rose bush that would take up the front yard of the home and easily pushed the stones over to make a large, surprisingly flat and even foundation that had plenty of space to dig down to make a root cellar and have a lovely inner courtyard where the original tree that had been growing from the dragon’s chest still stood.

Others in the clan followed suit, using the very large but smooth stones from the rivers and streams to first dig down to set the foundation stones securely then build up with more stone and motar made from the clay from the little islands as they redirected all the little side streams into the main river and used the forrest of stone timbers to use for their houses before they all happily made new markers and marked out their territory, leaving a little space between Hurricane Breaker to the North, and Skull Screamer to the South and Bone Crusher to the East.

Rhos and Esri were pleased to learn that Captain Tilge was now Warchieftess Tilge since she led the victory over Skull Screamer and between Tilge and Rhos, they made their own peace and alliance that Drad and Tilge’s husband Warchief Murzol agreed to as well as Rhos readily offered a good sized cutting of the wild rose bush to Tilge and a cutting of the Butternut Bush as well as a cutting of the tree that was in the dragon’s cave and gave them to Tilge to plant in her own home’s garden so that she could continue to have the wild rose scented soap and the fruits of the tree as Tilge taught Rhos how to make it herself and many other kinds of soap as well which Rhos readily learned and took to heart as Tilge and Rhos exchanged seeds and seedlings and saplings for the gardens of Stormbreaker and Hurricane Breaker.

While Rhos and Drad were still living in Drad’s re-erected home on Stormbreaker’s territory next to their new home that they were building on top of the dragon’s lair, while they both worked on cutting down stone timbers to construct their new house over the stones. No sooner had they fell the first tree before a storm blew in but didn’t topple any tents or other homes but when the storm cleared, they found a fleet of ships moored and marooned on the shore of their beach that they had claimed.

The crews of the ship were sick with scurvy and other ailments and close to death, had all the older commanding officers die from the sickness, just leaving the younger, newer orcish sailors who were barely bigger than grunts left alive. Drad offered them a choice, give up the vessels and all their cargo and they would be welcome into Stormbreaker’s clan and Rhos and Esri would use what was left the fruits and bone powder to heal them. Which the younger orcs readily accepted but they immediately knew that the fruit was known as Dragon Heart Fruit. It usually only grew on the islands that were the birthplace of dragons in the world after the convergence of the spheres and that dragons often came back to the islands to mate every so often and always had at least one seed of the fruit in their gut and when they died somewhere in the world, often the seed would sprout in a dragon’s dead guts, close to it’s heart so that it always looked like the tree sprouted from the dragon’s chest and the fruit was vaguely heart shaped and did best when planted in a gut pile of another animal when not planted as a cutting or sapling. And was famed for it’s taste along with it’s nutritional value and it’s ability to heal as well.

The sailor orcs did not know where they were, only where they were from and have a vague where they were going and had lost their maps in the storms and their cargo was actually the goods to go into a palace of a king. And so Rhos and Drad got the first picks of all the cargos as Rhos put a special piece of paper with a mark to tag all that she wanted from all the holds, then Esri and Sarg were given their turn to stake claim to what they wanted, then Orcoth, as Stormbreaker’s shaman was given his pick of what he wanted and then Shari and Grat were also given their picks of whatever they wanted from the holds and the rest was given to the rest of the clan including the young orcish sailors who were excited to claim the goods they had coveted all this time, especially the large barrels of spices that were distributed to everyone in the clan evenly, except for Drad and Rhos who each got a triple portion, being Warchief and Warchieftess. Sarg and Esri, Orcoth, Shari and Grat were all individually given double portions as well to signify their high status as Orcoth happily claimed Grat and Shari as his wives, each of them equal in his eyes and in his heart and loved and cared for them the same way Drad cared for Rhos and the same way Sarg cared for Esri as both Shari and Grat were happy to finally have a husband who cared for them and took care of them they way they had always wanted and needed but never could manage before.

Drad insisted that the first house to be built and finished should be Orcoth’s as his father and shaman which Orcoth happily accepted and Drad made good on his promise that both his mother and Shari both received more than double of whatever they had lost, the replacements being of much better and finer qualities than what Shari had previously lost as their house was built right next door to Drad and Rhosland’s house, Drad and Rhosland’s house being the second house to be built and finished and furnished and thanks to som ingenuity on Rhosland’s part, the foundations were stone, the floors, tiled, the walls were of stone timbers but covered in special oil and tar to preserve the timbers and then covered with a special plastar that had been in a powdered form in barrels on the ships. That once it mixed with water- became a white paste that she and others used to coat the walls and the cielings and then used the paint powders to mix special batches of plastar to paint all the rooms inside and outside the room, the most beautiful vivd colors as the house was now large enough to have dozens of rooms and a courtyard with it’s own special garden on the inside and a medicine garden and food garden on the outside, the wild rose bush being cut into two, so that she had wild rose bushes on either side of the front porch of her house and even used the special glass domes that were on the ships as skylights in her own house and even made a second story and a roof with walls and ledges and built in benches and the little stream that had been flowing into the original dragon’s cave served as her home’s own personal plumbing line to get water in and out of the house. Happy that her own years of having a mud and mudbrick house serving as the finest teacher to help her build her new house to exactly how she wanted it as Drad was only all too happy to help her realize her dream and fell in love with the sheer beauty of it all and it only served to show off how much of a beautiful person inside and out that he married and once it was done, it was just as much of a work of art as it was a home as others took what was left to decorate and build their own homes in such ways, happy to have bright, beautiful colors to decorate their homes that the warm tones of wood only accented and accentuated as they noticed the homes now had naturally warming properties in the cooler weather and cooling properties in the warmer weather.

Sarg and Esri claimed the best captain’s quarters on the best ship as their home as once all the cargo was unloaded and the ships renovated into big fishing boats and docks were built on the beach so that the ships could anchor and be pulled up to the piers and decks and helped build a lighthouse and then the whole clan helped everyone else build their own homes all while Rhos’ and Esri’s baby bumps grew in size every day as the Shaman was adamant that Rhos and Esri were both definitely carrying sons.

Meanwhile Shadi and Baka were fighting a losing battle. More and more of the remaining few clan members of Skull Screamer stayed because Shadi and Baka ruled and behaved in the same way they had always done which now that they didn’t have the Clan Cheif and his eldest son backing them, now others did not hide their offense to their behavior and when Shadi and Baka tried simply taking what they wanted and what they felt they were owed, for the first time in their lives- it was denied to them.

Especially once the fleet of ships ran aground in Stormbreaker’s territory and Stormbreaker had effectively more than tripled in size and multiplied in wealth and success, to the point that the young sailors happily took on the widows and previous children of the fallen warriors of Skull Screamer after they grew bigger into full grown adults and after the widows had made amends to Rhos, Esri and especially to Shari as the widows were happy that instead of daughters being seen as a disappointment, but instead that every child was precious, they had no desire to go back to Skull Screamer.

Plus Rhos and Esri were the opposite of Shadi and Baka. Where Shadi and Baka were domineering and demanding, Rhos and Esri simply asked how they could help each family be successful, from having full gardens with all the medicinal and flavorfull herbs and other produce to each house having at least one if not several dragon heart trees growing. Using the gut piles of the all the kills of the game to plant the seeds themselves along with Butternut saplings and wild rose saplings and to never take whatever they wanted but only when the family’s needs and wants were met, if the family truly wanted to give anything as “tribute” they would accept it but never demand it and such behavior endeared them to the whole clan as Drad, Rhos, Sarg and Esri all encouraged each family to really pursue their interests and passions and took to fishing and trading instead of raiding as almost every woman in the clan now had at least one necklace of fine pearls each woman had collected from the shellfish in the waters of the river and the sea.

The sailors especially took after Drad’s example, along with Sarg’s and Orcoth’s and cared very lovingly and respectfully of their wives and adopted children since Drad always treated Rhos with the utmost care, respect and dignity so that all that was left of Skull Screamer now was Shadi, Baka and their mothers and their daughters, all living under Zash’s old, and by now, very leaky roof as all that was left was now their home and the clan’s old townhall, which had stood empty, unused and now forgotten as it was abundantly clear that the old prophecy was true, that Skull Screamer would fall when under the guidance of a lone Clan Cheiftess or Warchieftess with no Clan Cheif or Warchief.

Once Rhos and Esri both went into labor at about the same time and both gave birth to sons- who Drad and Rhosland named their son Brock and Sarg and Esri named their son Cugas as both boys were almost identical and had heard that all who got to see them praised how big and healthy and handsome both baby boys were before even more babies were born the clan and much rejoicing took place.

Shadi and Baka had to humble themselves and admit defeat. They were almost out of food, soap, clothing, wood for their cooking fires and hearth even after taking down the other remaining houses and using them as fuel for their fires and what was left of all the gardens and thus- out of options. And came for Brock and Cugas’ birth festivals when they were one month old and out of danger and came wearing the best garments they had left to offer Rhos and Esri congratulations and to see Brock and Cugas who were themselves the most handsome baby boys they had ever seen because they both took after their mothers but they could still clearly see some of Drad’s and Sarg’s strong and handsome features in their sons.

“We have come on this most blessed day to offer our congratulations and a truce.” Shadi began.

“What was wrong with the agreement we agreed on a year ago?” Rhos asked curiously as she sat in her rocking chair on her porch and rocked Brock who slept blissfully away in her arms as Esri was next to her and also sitting in a rocking chair doing the same to Cugas, each woman having special puffed quilts over them and their sons.

“Skull Screamer has fallen, all that is left of it is us. And if you do not help us, we and our daughters will die of starvation, we can find no fish or any game or anything to eat on Skull Screamer’s lands. And all those who had at first agreed to stay true to Skull Screamer have left it to join the greater Stormbreaker and seeing it’s success, we can not blame them and we hold no grudge against them or you. In fact, if you will agree to help us, we give up all rights to all of Skull Screamer’s lands to Stormbreaker, and all we ask in exchange is a place in Clan Stormbreaker. And a space to have a home.” Shadi explained as she bowed her head submissively.

“But since we are the warchieftess’ and warlordess’ won’t you take us into your home? We will happily submit to Rhos as Warchieftess and or Esri as Warlordess and be second and or third wives to them, just like they were going to be to us had Tar survived.” Baka pleaded as Rhos gave Drad a meaningful look as he gave her a reassuring smile from his place next to her before he got up from his chair and stood on his porch above them and crossed his arms over his chest, still wearing that dragon scale armor proudly.

“I, Clan Chief Warchief Drad of Stormbreaker do accept all of Skull Screamer’s lands from your hands, and since you all have humbled yourselves to come and ask, you are now welcome to stay as clan members of Clan Stormbreaker. However, I will never let you into my home or my household because I will never tolerate any disrespect to my Clan Cheiftess Warchieftess Rhosland, who is my wife, my mate, my better half and my greatest friend and ally. Because lest you forget, I was there, sitting in the grasses when you came to Rhosland a year ago, to offer her- her own tributes to you- as your bride gifts to her - when Tar had announced that he would have her then but never got a chance to fully claim her. And I listened as both of you threatened Rhosland with death by drowning if she ever tried to usurp you or come between you and Warlord Tar. And I will never tolerate any threat or disrespect in any way, shape or form to her. And I honestly do not trust either you or your mothers to not harm Rhosland or her mother or sister or especially our son or Esri’s son who are still young and could still fall victim to you.” Drad leveled as Shadi and Baka both balked at him and stared in terror at him and flushed with shame or embarrassment.

“We did no such thing!” Shadi insisted.

“My girl is a good girl, she would never do that!” Shadi’s mother insisted.

“Really? Because I was there with Esri, also sitting in the grasses, out of your sight but well within hearing range, as you came and put those bracelets on her wrists and threatened her with similar things, are you calling the Clan Cheif Warchief and the Warlord of Clan Stormbreaker liars?” Sarg challenged angrily as he stood up and stood next to his brother and took a similar stance, with his arms crossed over his chest, standing between them and his own beloved wife.

“Shaman Orcoth, would you please shed light on this matter and make things clear for the whole clan?” Drad invited as he looked over at the other rocking chairs on his porch which Orcoth, Shari and Grat had taken up as Shari and Grat were still knitting baby clothes for their grandsons.

“Of course Warchief Drad. It would be my pleasure.” Orcoth grinned as he cast a spell and showed the whole thing, including all the cursing Shadi and Baka had done on the way too and from meeting with Esri and Rhosland as the whole clan gasped and murmured as they watched in horror the way Baka and Shadi were so domineering and just awful and led the attack on Shari and her humble old house and Grat’s kindness and compassion in saving Shari and what meager possessions she could before the show ended before Shadi and Baka’s mothers took the babes from their daughter’s arms and forced Shadi and Baka to kneel and bow down on their hands and knees with their foreheads touching the ground and started yelling and berating their “wicked” daughters for behaving so indecently and disrespectfully and pleaded for Drad and Sarg to show mercy and leniency on account of Baka’s and Shadi’s daughters who had started to cry by now which woke up Cugas and Brock and got them to start crying as well which upset Rhosland and Esri along with Drad and Sarg as Esri and Rhosland did all they could to comfort and console their sons as they brought their sons into Rhosland’s house to take a rest on the wonderfully comfortable couches that had been put there.

“What do you think we should do?” Drad asked Rhosland.

“Well now that everyone effectively knows that they are a bunch of liars. No one will trust them not to fall into the same pattern of behavior. But at the same time, their daughters have no choice in who their mothers are and they are still young and they shouldn’t have to suffer on account of their mothers. So let’s let them stay, but a very far distance away from our home, let them keep their old home, and they can turn it into a brothel for all I care.” Rhos answered him.

“Agreed.” Esri grinned.

“Agreed.” Sarg grinned too.

“Very well.” Drad nodded before he came back out to see that everyone was still there, waiting to see how Drad would react and how he would respond.

“On account of your daughters, who should not have to suffer on their mother’s account. You are allowed to be members of Clan Stormbreaker and you are allowed to either remain in your old house, or you may choose to rebuild here, that is your choice. But I warn any man in Stormbreaker from taking either of you as a bride, for no man would want such a wife as what you two have proven yourselves to be. Use whatever talents you have to earn your living here. And if you have none, then you can always turn your old home into a tavern which would be helpful, or possibly a brothel which in that case, neither Sarg or myself will ever use, your choice.” Drad announced as Baka and Shadi gasped in horror before their mothers slapped their hands over their daughter’s mouths to keep them from saying anything more.

“A tavern it will be then, thank you Clan Chief Warchief Drad.” Shadi’s mother graciously accepted on her daughter’s behalf as their old friends agreed to help build them before Drad went back into his house to be with his family and disbursed everyone so they could go about their day.

“So, a tavern it is.” Rhosland grinned since she could hear from the window in the wall.

“Yup, the first, of hopefully many.” Drad smiled before he sat next to his wife and enveloped her in a hug and kissed her sweetly as they both looked down at their son who was now awake and cooing softly to both of his parents.

“Just one thing, you’re not allowed to marry Shadi’s or Baka’s daughters when you grow up unless they are nothing like their mothers and you really, truly love them.” Rhosland told Brock which got Drad to laugh before Esri repeated that to Cugas too before there was a knock on the door and Drad got up to answer it before he found one of Sarg’s first mate.

“Warlord Sarg, there is a small merchant ship, that is trying to go up river to a city further up river, it’s requesting assistance in help guiding the ship up the river to the next clan’s lands, they are headed to the mountains in the east, said that there are towns called colonies in the mountains that they are trying to sell their goods to and are willing to pay us a fee of gold now and another fee in gold on the way out if we are willing to do it.” He reported before Drad and Sarg shared a meaningful look and both nodded to each other.

“Hell yeah, that’s an easy yes.” Sarg easily agreed before he got up and left the house to direct the other sailors on the shore to guide the ships using ropes on the shoreline to maneuver through the twisting and winding river before more and more merchant ships came to do the same, grateful that there was now a settlement here so that they could simply pay these orcs a small fee both to and from the mountain colony of Suchi as they brought in their vessels full of goods and would leave, having the boats laden with heaps of gold, happy and grateful that they didn’t have to use Hurricane Breaker’s river because Hurricane Breaker was bigger and stronger and demanded to inspect them and their cargo and demanded a portion of the goods, usually the best ones and half of all that they had, and a half portion of the gold the remaining half of the goods sold for at Suchi’s sister colony Twilla that their rivier eventually led to. And for just a flat fee, they could now make more money using this new clan of Stormbreaker and sell whatever didn’t sell at Suchi as part of their fee too.

And thus was the beginning of Stormbreaker.

#Of Heaven and Fire Prequel #The Beginning of Stormbreaker #Tada!#See? Wasn't that cute?#Orctober 2021

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realityhelixcreates · 3 years

Text

Beta, Theta, and Me Chapter 9: Magic Carpet Ride

Chapters: 9/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Avengers (Movies) Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Relationships: Loki x Reader (But not right now),Drug Use

Characters: Loki(Marvel) Additional Tags: A/B/O, Sorta, More Of An Exploration Of Life And Self Expression Within An A/B/O Framework, Loki Does What He Wants, But Loki Does Not Actually Do What He Wants, Antagonistic Bosses, Loki Has A Throne Now, But It’s Not What He Wanted

Summary: Loki, paragon of self-sacrifice, must face down a cultural taboo.

Loki stared ruefully at the little bottle of pills on the table in front of him.

“You've got to be kidding me.” he said, “Your weak mortal medicine will have no affect on me.”

Tony Stark shrugged. “Works on Cap.”

“I am not your Captain Rogers. We are worlds apart.”

“The guy's a never ending science experiment. We had to develop insanely strong meds for him because, in the event that he actually managed to get hurt, our strongest stuff couldn't help him. But I have it on good authority that this'll do the trick. That authority being your brother. King of Asgard.”

Loki glared in scandalized disbelief. “You are telling me Thor actually took one of these?”

“Took some persuading, but yeah. After he came back down, he was pretty sure they'd work on you too, despite your differences.”

Loki's eyes flicked to you, then back to Stark, then to the bottle. “Hold your tongue. We don't need to discuss this any further. I will not poison myself at your command.”

“It's not poison!” Stark insisted. “It's a painkiller and anti-inflammatory. It will help you heal.”

“You cannot expect me to degrade myself for your convenience.”

“No, I expect you to lie for your convenience.” Stark shot back. “Though I don't see how hiding this from me,” he gestured at the chair, the neck brace, “actually helped you at all. You don't get anything out of it. Anyway, you really need to start cooperating if you want to stay. I'm trying to be lenient, but the more you complicate things, the more likely it is you'll be discovered. I think we all agree that would be bad.

As for you, if you want to come back downstairs and rejoin society, we've always got space for you” he said to you. “The baristas have been asking after you.”

“No!” Loki burst, “If I must befoul myself with your medicines to retain my lodgings, then I require her assistance to oversee things while I am...impaired.”

It had been an accident. Or rather, a lapse in personal judgment. You had left Loki after dressing him one morning, to fix breakfast, and Stark had shown up. And because he was your boss, and owned the building, you had just let him in. That's right, you had helped out the landlord. Your parents would be ashamed of you. You were ashamed.

And the silent fury Loki had been radiating when he wheeled out into the seating area and Stark had gotten a look at him as he really was made you surprised that he wanted to keep you around at all.

Stark had given him an exasperated earful, and then left, coming back this morning with a bottle full of small pills. You couldn't even come close to pronouncing the complicated name on the label, but from what Stark was saying, they were the kind of thing that should never be taken by a normal person. Not if they had been made with Captain America in mind. Not if they were powerful enough to string out Thor.

You were surprised Loki was even pretending to go along with this, considering the cultural attitudes to chemical medicines in Asgard. Really, you fully expected him to order you to throw the pills away once Stark left.

When you brought him his tea, he sighed deeply, his expression a mask of utter melancholic resignation.

“Crush one of those accursed pills into a powder and add it to the tea.” he said woefully. “Stay by me as I suffer this indignity. Be forgiving of any upcoming transgressions, I implore you.”

“Hey, I'm sure it won't be that bad.” you said, grabbing a cooking spoon, and carefully breaking the pill down into a fine powder with the handle. “It won't stay in your system for very long. Your body will filter it out and flush it away, and you'll be clean again.”

You brushed the powder into his teacup, and stirred until it dissolved. Then you handed it over to Loki, who stared into the cup morosely.

“Won't it be good to not be in pain, even just for a little while?”

“I thought that many times, when I was in the clutches-” He stopped abruptly. “I've thought that many times. It is always denied to me somehow. There's always a catch.” He took a long sip of the tea, and sighed again. “And so I am tainted. At least the tea doesn't taste any different. You are getting better at that.”

“Here, have a muffin.” you offered him your freshest creation. “It says on the bottle that you're supposed to take it with food.”

He accepted the muffin with all the graveness of a prisoner at his last meal, but he thanked you graciously, and stopped you when you started to leave his side.

“I will be rendered a senseless fool by this foul poison. You must stay close, so that I do not do something utterly moronic, like throwing myself from the balcony on the assumption that I can fly. I might not actually survive in my situation, and I dislike long falls anyway.”

“You're scared of heights?” you asked, scarcely able to believe it.

“No,” he said haughtily, “I dislike long falls. It is different.”

“Why do they bother you?”

“That is personal.”

“I've seen your dick.” you pointed put.

“You would not be the first.” he said, matching you for vulgarity.

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. Do you want more tea?”

Loki glanced into his empty teacup, bemused to see the bottom.

“Yes, I suppose I would.” he said, setting it down for you.

He had tried to teach you the fine art of pouring tea, and you had finally managed to do it without dribbling, but, as Loki put it, you also did it without grace. He didn't say anything this time, just tightened his lips in a sarcastic way, and took a sip.

At least you knew how to make tea to his specifications. It wasn't difficult, once you had figured it out. Just measurements and timing.

He had devoured his muffin, so you brought him another. Loki was extremely particular about flavors; not adventurous at all. Even banana nut offended his senses. But cream cheese met his approval in every application so far, even if he did complain about the texture of bagels.

“You'll have to get me an Asgardian cookbook, if this keeps up.” you said. “I might be able to whip you up something that reminds you of home.”

“I do not necessarily always want to be reminded of home.” Loki said. “And some of our dishes take many hours, even days to make. I need you for more than that. You cannot be in the kitchen at every moment.”

You would never admit it to anyone, but you got a surge of secret pleasure every time Loki said that he needed you. You'd always enjoyed hearing it from others, but it was so much better coming from a god.

Though it did make you wonder if the isolation up here was messing with your head a bit.

“Besides,” he continued, “enough cheese, bread, and meat will approximate the diet well enough. Asgardians have high metabolisms, and require many calories, and so do I. Our active lifestyles tend to make us big eaters as well, although I do not get my usual exercises these days.”

“If you would actually give yourself the time to relax and heal, you might be able to get back to that sooner.”

“Yap, yap, you nag like a bratty lapdog.” He scorned. Your eyebrows skyrocketed.

“Well gee,” you said with exaggerated shock, “if you don't want me here, just go ahead and say so. I'll go downstairs and be a barista.”

“No, you cannot leave me!” There was a distinct waver in his voice. “I will be polite. You won't leave me, will you? I didn't mean it.”

“Loki.” you said, suddenly feeling guilty. He sounded like a scolded little boy, on the verge of tears. “I'm not going anywhere. Don't worry about that. You should be more polite though.”

He reached out gracefully and took your hand.

“Dear lady...” he began, his words slightly slurred, and you finally realized that the medicine was taking effect.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, filling his tea again.

“Strange.” he said. “I feel light, but like there is a weight upon my eyes. Light, but like I cannot lift my limbs. One with this chair. Melting into the floor. I do not hurt...it's been so long...”

He really was starting to tear up.

You took his tea from his trembling hand and grabbed up a tissue.

“Here you go.” you said, dabbing his eyes gently. “Go ahead and enjoy it. Pain shouldn't be an everyday thing for you, if it doesn't have to be. You don't have to feel bad for enjoying a little bit of peace.”

“No, you don't understand. I don't deserve this. The pain was at least something familiar. I don't recognize this feeling. This lightness. It doesn't feel real.”

“Well, you are real, and I am real, and the medicine is real. The feeling is the medicine acting on your perceptions, so it's kinda real, it's just different than usual, that's all.” you patted his hand, and he grabbed for yours.

“Will this feeling go away?”

“Of course!” you laughed, “don't worry, this is just temporary. It will help your neck, and when you're healed, you won't have to take it anymore.”

“What if I can't stop?” he asked. “I am...not good at refraining from...indulgence.”

“If no one brings you anymore, what could you do about it?”

“If I am healed enough to remove this brace? To move about freely? What could I not do about it?”

“You know, that's a good point. I think we'll have to find you some of that ultra-powerful super weed the cops keep saying totally exists, but no one else seems to be able to find.”

He gave you a sideways stare. “More poisons?”

“It's to help free you from the other poison. But there are multiple strategies for getting clean, if that really becomes a problem. It's not like I've never seen addicts before; I'll help you if you need me.”

He reached for your hand again, and missed.

“Blessed thing.” he blabbered. “You are a draught of Alfar wine, brewed under the starlight. The fresh breeze through the forests of Vanaheim, just after sunrise. You are the faithful moon, pure as gold.”

“And you are high as balls.” you teased, bashful about the flowery praise. You really shouldn't be pledging any more of yourself, but the allure of being needed-wanted even, was as addictive as any drug.

“You are the only once who may see.” he said. “I want no one else to see me like this. Stark especially. None save you may witness my dishonor.”

“Loki,” you mock-scolded, “if you keep looking at it like that, you'll impede your own progress. You'll fight it subconsciously, and just slow your healing down.”

“How, pray tell, should I look at it then?” he asked.

You took his hand, which was still waving around after yours.

“Look at it as permission. Permission to relax, to let the guard down and just exist for a while. You have everything you need right here, you can just be. It's okay to take some time to just be.”

“Just be what though? What is worth it for me to be?”

You shrugged. “A prince?”

“In exile.”

“A god?”

“Blasphemed rather than worshiped.”

“How about...my master?”

He squirmed a little in his chair.

“I could perhaps do that effectively.” he said quietly.

#betathetaandme #loki (marvel)#loki x reader

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elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years

Text

April Contest Submission #30: Break Me Off

Words: ca. 3,000 Setting: mAU Lemon: no CW: none

“Can I try yours?”

Elsa’s head snapped up from the book she was reading to look to her left. Her baby sister was looking expectantly, her small hand outstretched and waiting expectantly, fingers wiggling in a grabby motion.

“Sure,” she answered with a smile, and passed her barely started dark chocolate KitKat on to Anna. “I don’t think you’ll like it though.”

Anna ignored that statement and immediately put the candy bar in her ‘some teeth missing transition period’ mouth, and bit off a sizable chunk. She chewed for a few seconds before her chocolate-covered lips twisted in a grimace, and she threw the KitKat back in Elsa’s lap.

“Ewww,” she said once she finally swallowed the bite (she at least had the decency to not spit it out like she used to a few years ago, something Elsa could bet would drive their father nuts if she did it in the new car), then gave Elsa the dirtiest look ever. “It’s so bitter! Why are you doing this to yourself…”

The last words were said with an overly-dramatic flair as Anna put her hand up to her forehead and pretended to faint like an old-timey movie lady on an ottoman. Which would work much better if she wasn’t stopped by the seat belt.

“It’s not that bitter to me.” Elsa shrugged as she picked up the discarded KitKat and continued to eat it as if nothing ever mattered. “You just still have a baby palate,” she said around a mouthful.

Anna blew her a raspberry, and her gaze dropped to Elsa’s book. “Whatcha reading anyway?”

Elsa swallowed the KitKat. “Harry Potter.” She flipped the cover to show it to Anna, who immediately started tracing and mouthing the letters of the title. “The fifth part comes out next week, so I wanted to re-read it before then.”

“Can you read it to me?”

“Later,” she lowered her voice and glanced in the rear-view mirror at their father’s concentrated face. It wasn’t the best idea to read–and have Anna interrupt with her loud comments–while he was driving. “When we’re settled at the hotel, I’ll read some to you.”

+++

“Hey,” Anna whispered, leaning over the wide armrest so she could reach Elsa’s ear. “You wanna try a bite of mine?”

She offered her the obnoxiously white KitKat, and Elsa immediately took it, as if its glow-in-the-dark properties could be seen by the row behind them. Without thinking much, she chomped down on the half-eaten candy bar. The overwhelming sweetness exploded in her mouth and seemed to coat her tongue with a thick, fatty film.

“You like it?” Anna whispered again, absolutely disinterested in the screen, her eyes locked square on Elsa’s face. “It’s kinda sweet, but I think I dig the white chocolate.”

Fighting through the nausea, Elsa finally managed to push the saccharine mush down her throat. “It’s absolutely disgusting,” she whispered back, then chuckled at Anna’s betrayed face. “I can see why you’d like it.”

Anna opened her mouth to say something (presumably snarky, she was hitting that age) in return, but an angry shhh came up from behind them. Elsa glanced at the people sitting in the back row and mouthed a sorry.

She turned back to the screen and tried to catch up on what she’d missed from the movie. So far The Goblet of Fire was proving to be worse than the previous parts, but she still wanted to know how they managed to work out the lake task of the Triwizard–

When Anna opened her mouth again just a few seconds later, Elsa stuck the white chocolate KitKat in it.

+++

“Hey, tradition!” Anna screamed suddenly as Elsa unwrapped her finals-study-motivation KitKat, almost making her drop it. “Lemme try!”

Elsa blinked. This was just the dark chocolate variety, one that she was sure she’d already let Anna try at some point in her life.

“You already–” But before she could finish, Anna’s shark jaws locked around the still barely unwrapped candy bar in Elsa’s hand with a loud crunch.

She munched for a moment, a thoughtful look on her face as she was considering the flavor. It quickly gave way to a disgusted scowl.

“Ew,” she said with a fake gag. “It’s as bad as I remembered.”

So Elsa did let her try it before. She rolled her eyes and half-heartedly swatted Anna away.

With a devious snicker and a hurried good luck with the exam!, Anna skipped out of the room and left her alone to study.

Elsa shook her head and finally returned her attention to her long-awaited snack award.

For some reason, the sight of Anna’s glitter lip gloss on the dark chocolate made her stomach twist.

+++

KitKats turned out to be the best way to go through her finals that year, and the next semester, and the next next semester, putting in the required fuel, feeling of accomplishment and the calories missing from not having time to eat proper meals.

It was also one of her little pleasures to find and test new flavors, especially those not available locally. It was Anna’s little pleasure to never say she wanted to order some for herself, and instead take bites off of Elsa’s, ‘just in case I don’t like it and don’t wanna finish!’

And over time it was one of Elsa’s little pleasures to look at the print of Anna’s lips on the chocolate and tenderly place hers on top to match the shape.

That little pleasure turned into a major curse when she realized she was daydreaming about placing her lips on Anna’s directly.

From then on, she would only buy the 4 finger breakable Kits.

+++

“I don’t really like this one,” Anna said around a mouthful of the Ruby cocoa KitKat. “It looks super cute, but it just tastes kinda waxy.”

Elsa shrugged. “Honestly, it’s just like the regular, but pink.”

“No, it’s different.” There was no point arguing with Anna on that. While Elsa preferred to try out new flavors, Anna has always been a hardcore true fan and real connoisseur of the regular Kit, so all she could do was to believe the expert. The currently pouting, cutely irritated expert. “Do you wanna finish mine?”

Elsa’s blood froze.

The whole point of the 4 finger Kits (which she personally considered inferior as the ratio of chocolate to wafer was just not quite on par with the single stick) was to not kiss Anna by proxy. Is what she came to call it.

But Anna was holding out the pink KitKat with a darker pink lip gloss outline in her direction, looking at her expectantly.

“N-no, I’m fine,” she answered a little too quickly and in a little too nervous of a voice. “I don’t really like it either,” she lied.

Anna’s brows furrowed. “I thought you said it tastes like the regular to you.”

Elsa could feel herself sweat. Damn, the stupid act of sharing a KitKat, something they’ve done since they were little kids was making her sweat.

Probably precisely because they’ve been doing this since they were little kids. Growing up together. Being sisters. Who should not want to kiss each other, yet there Elsa was, looking away from Anna’s perfect cupid bow glossy lips like a teenager (which she was definitely not anymore, on the final stretch to obtaining her bachelor degree) in love.

Her own lower lip felt numb from biting down on it. Fuck, she was in love.

“Yeah, but you’re right,” she said, mouth dry. She was in love and she was just now realizing this because of a stupid Ruby KitKat. “It is waxy.” Stupidly good Ruby KitKat that she was going to deny herself because her sister’s lips touched it and she would burn in hell if hers did too. “Just toss it out.”

Anna’s face looked like she just told her she actually was planning to vote on Trump for the pure fun of it, but she didn’t say anything.

+++

“Hey, I’m just about to head out– oh is that a new one?”

Elsa almost dropped the half eaten candy bar on the floor. She was not expecting Anna to come in her room any time soon, and like the true disgusting goblin she was, she decided to partake in her secret stash of imported KitKats.

Her dirty little secret stash of single stick KitKats that she couldn’t find in 4 finger format, and thus could not ever, ever let Anna know about because even if she ordered two pieces of each kind Anna would refuse to try an entire bar on her own.

‘I mean, what’s the fun in that? Half of the joy of KitKats is sharing!’

Not really seeing any way out of that, Elsa admitted defeat. “…Yes.”

“Oh, cool!” Anna bounced over excitedly to drop down on the bed next to her. “Oooh, white chocolate and peach? So fancy! Is it from Japan? It looks about the size of the Japanese ones I saw online…”

Her pure, genuine excitement only made Elsa feel even worse about hiding in her room like Gollum with his ring. Then, right as she was reaching for Elsa’s KitKat, Anna’s face and hand suddenly dropped.

“Wait…”

Elsa gulped.

“…you… you were going to eat it without me, weren’t you?”

She focused on the pattern of her carpet.

“Oh my god, Elsa! You stinker!” Anna sounded full-on betrayed, and Elsa could honestly not blame her for that. “I thought KitKats were our thing!”

Elsa blushed, for many different reasons. “I-it’s not like that,” she started explaining herself, fully aware of how pathetic she sounded. “It’s just cause you never want a full KitKat of a new flavor and I couldn’t find them in the sharing format–”

“So? I didn’t know we were suddenly only allowed to share the break-apart ones.”

Elsa sighed. Right, to Anna it didn’t make any sense, because Anna was a normal person who didn’t fantasize about kissing her sister. Or flustered about indirectly kissing her. “I-it’s just easier to portion…”

“I’m pretty good at portioning a bite, thank you very much.” She still sounded a little miffed, but she did smile towards the end– right before her eyes turned very round and glistening. “Did you eat many without me?”

Holy shit, she was looking like the pleading emoji and Elsa was at her wit’s end. “No!” she denied quickly and truthfully. “I-I bought more, but this was the first one I was going to try…”

Anna crossed her arms.

“Aaand now that you know about it I guess there’s no point hiding,” Elsa continued sheepishly. “I’ll uh– I’ll go to the kitchen and cut you off a piece.”

She stood up quickly, holding the KitKat like a relay sprinter holds the baton, clinging on for dear life with the prospect of glory and escaping the rivals, or in this case escaping her sister before she could–

“Wait.” Anna’s hand was on her wrist and Elsa almost yelped. The rivals outran her and the finish line was nowhere in sight as she fell on her knees, defeated, and only metaphorically speaking as in real life she was just standing stiff in her place. “What? Just let me take a bite, it’s easier–”

“N-no,” she interrupted quickly, trying to pry the wrist away from Anna’s surprisingly strong grip. “Cause, uh– umm, that way I can make sure to cut in the middle and give you a fair share.”

Yes, that was a splendid save.

“I just want a bite, I’m not sure if I would like a whole half.” And a gloriously crushing response from the opponent. “Just let me–”

Her peach pink lip gloss would look amazingly fitting on the white chocolate and peach KitKat. Or on Elsa’s lips. Applied with her lips. On her lips. Kissing–

“No!” She yanked her hand away. Anna’s eyebrows shot up in shock, and Elsa realized she yelled that very loudly, even though she was mostly responding to her own dirty little secret thoughts. “I mean– I don’t wanna…”

What? What was she supposed to say to get out of this? There was literally no logical reason she could not be wanting to simply share the KitKat like they used to for so many years, aside from the obvious plague that was currently rotting her mind, but she could not tell Anna that–

“…are you disgusted by me?”

She said it in such a small voice, looking up from where she was sitting on Elsa’s bed with hands folded neatly in her lap, her big teal eyes glazed with a sheet of tears and Elsa’s heart broke into a thousand shards.

“Oh god, no!” Her hands moved on their own to grab Anna and pull her into a hug, but she stopped herself on the way, now with her hands awkwardly hovering at Anna’s eye level. “Why… no, I’m so sorry you would even think that, I–”

“Then what is it, Elsa?”

Fuck. Fuckity fuck shit fuck what was she–

“Just say it,” she damn near sobbed. “Out loud.”

“Your lip gloss,” she said in a flat voice, grasping at straws to not lie, but also not tell the truths. “It stays on the KitKat when you bite it.”

Anna’s eyes went wider. “You don’t like my lip gloss?”

Why the fuck was she sounding this hurt by the idea? “No, I–”

“I thought you said it looks good…”

“It does!” She could clearly feel herself getting flustered. “I like it, and it looks very good on your li– on you. Really good.” God, was she sounding as borderline creepy to Anna as she did to herself? “B-but it leaves a– a stencil of your lips on the…”

She trailed off, not really sure how to get out of the corner she just talked herself into.

Anna gave her a puzzled look. “So you don’t like… my lips?”

“No!” Jesus why was communication so difficult and why was the room so hot and why was Anna looking at her like this? “I love them. Like! I like them. I like. Them. Your lips. Like them.”

If Anna got up and called the ambulance right now because ‘my sister is having a stroke!’ Elsa would find it completely justified.

“Ookay…” Anna said slowly, not reaching for the phone, and instead continuing to try to read Elsa’s face (but what she could potentially read was that inside Elsa’s head there was a wind-up monkey puppet playing the cymbal, and nothing much beside that.) “So what is the problem?”

Elsa mumbled in response.

“I’m sorry?”

“It feels like we’re kissing,” she said weakly, absolutely giving up on her hopes and dreams in that instance. “When I bite the KitKat.”

Anna blinked at her. “That’s it?”

Elsa nodded.

“I mean, that’s all?”

It was Elsa’s turn to wear a confused expression.

“You’ve been getting only breakable KitKats for a year just so you could share with me without feeling like this?”

Elsa nodded again, albeit cautiously. She had no idea where Anna was going with this.

“And denying yourself flavors that don’t exist in that format so that I wouldn’t feel left out?”

Nod again.

“I’m sorry.”

Record scratch. “What? No, why are you sorry?”

“Because you were feeling uncomfortable because of me?”

“No, I– I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable knowing I want to kiss you.”

Wait, no– oh no no no no holy fuck no backtrack backtrack backtrack–

Her stomach sunk. There was no way to backtrack.

Red alert, escape the room.

Anna caught her hips before she could dash for the door and spun her around to face her again, this time meeting her at eye level. She reached for Elsa’s hand–which was currently hanging limply at her side, and still holding the goddamned half-eaten KitKat–and clasped it gently in hers, then brought it up until it was between them, right in front of Elsa’s mouth.

The scent of peach and white chocolate hit her before her brain registered the development.

“Bite,” Anna said softly, but with demand. “And hold.”

Elsa’s mouth opened on its own as her sister pushed the KitKat in, and obediently she clamped her teeth down on it–just enough to break the chocolate layer, but not all the way through.

She stood there patiently with the candy bar sticking out of her mouth, watching Anna remove the remaining wrapper as if her body was not hers to steer, as if she was just a passive observer as her mind was struggling to pick the pieces of what her sister was doing without going for what she really wanted Anna to be doing in her heart of hearts.

Once the wrapper was off, Anna climbed on her tiptoes and– Elsa could swear she saw her smirk right before the free end of the KitKat disappeared in Anna’s mouth, slowly, until their lips finally touched.

Their lips touched.

She was kissing her sister.

She was kissing her sister around a fucking candy bar.

And in just a few heartbeats she heard the tell-tale, trademark KitKat crunch as Anna’s teeth broke through the wafer, and with a final brush of her glossed lips she was off, leaving behind only a chunk of white chocolate and peach mousse in Elsa’s numb, speechless mouth.

“It looks good on you too,” Anna said with her mouth still full and gaze dashing between Elsa’s lips and eyes. “Bet it would be even better without the melted chocolate.” She swallowed down her bite, and let out a satisfied hum. “Mm, I like this one. Funny how the flavors work together so well… chew, Elsa.”

She brought her hand up to Elsa’s chin and pressed on it, and Elsa mechanically picked up the chewing motion, earning a delighted smile from her sister.

Anna glanced down at her watch. “Well, I gotta go. The sea and beach won’t run away, but my friends just might if I keep them waiting any longer.” She placed a soft, sticky kiss on Elsa’s boiling hot cheek. “But I’m really looking forward to trying the other flavors you got.”

With a wink, she pushed past her and out the door, leaving Elsa to deal with the lump (of KitKat) in her throat.

#elsanna #submission #April 2021 contest #prompt: break

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champhangman · 3 years

Text

Two More

Title: Two More Fandom / Character(s): AEW / Matt Jackson x OFC Warnings: A little suggestive language, but really nothing. Word Count: 2,650 Notes: This is my (belated) birthday and (early) Christmas gift for my beloved @wardl0w. Sister J, you’re simply amazing and I can’t even begin to get into how much you mean to me. This is also a tie-in to my multipart Christmas fic, Recipe for a Perfect Christmas, and features Matt and Shayna (aka J... it’s really her OC that I totally stole without permission borrowed). Hope you enjoy! More Notes: My entry into @12daysofchristmas for Day 10 (baking/cookies)

The Tag Crew: @adampage / @cowboyshit / @lilmisswhiskeygypsy / @bigpixiefoot / @mindofasagittaruis / @kalliravenne / @sadlittlecountess / @baronsbelleevangeline / @brie-mode-activated / @xbreezymeadowsx / @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch / @wardl0w / @hotyeehawman / @waywardwrestlewritingwaif / @drewshoneybadger / @mysteryoflovve / @knnyomega / @rampagewriting / @hurricanranabaybay / @linziland13 / @bastardkingbrutalizer / @snarkandsarcasmftw / @rubyred1980 / @champnick / @edgecution / @nething4perfection / @gabbynorth98 / (please drop me an ask/send me a message/reply to my post if you’d like to be tagged)

***

"Here you go."

Shayna pulled her gaze from the TV screen and eyed the cup Matt was holding. The aroma of spices wafted under her nose and, sitting up, she reached for the cup. "What is it?"

"Some of the Christmas tea from your mom."

"Mm." She took a sip and sighed. "Tastes like apple pie."

"You want to try a treat?"

"The last time you asked me that we bought a house." She smiled at the memory of a slightly musty smelling basement, cold brick, and the heat of Matt's lips.

"I thought it was when you were cleaning out the closet."

"I did that before the house." She paused before taking another sip of tea. She hoped she had. Otherwise, the little surprise she'd gotten had occurred in that cold dark basement… Pushing that thought away, she took another sip. "What's your treat?"

"I made some of those Peanut Butter Surprises."

"Sure, I'll take one." She considered herself a woman of simple tastes, and preferred plain sugar cookies, but anytime Matt worked in the kitchen she was inundated with flavors. She could have blamed the few extra pounds she'd gained on his ramped up baking in recent weeks, but she knew the true reason. "Are there sugar cookies?"

"Of course." He grinned and disappeared into the kitchen. When he returned he was holding a small plate.

"I smell chocolate," she sighed. The cookies were large, nearly the size of her palm, and were domed. They didn't look particularly breathtaking or scrumptious, but she knew from experience that some of the best things Matt created in the kitchen were presented plainly. She could feel the warmth of them and breathed in the smell.

"This one has chocolate, this one doesn't," he said, indicating which was which. "I'm thinking of doing a drizzle design on top."

"Mm," she murmured thoughtfully. Picking up the one without chocolate, she hissed at the heat. It was going to be good. She knew it. Over recent weeks he had taken over the kitchen both day and night, going over the recipes he had been given and first working to perfect them then adding his own twists. Snickerdoodles with swirls of cinnamon sugar twisted into the dough, substituting different nuts for pecans or walnuts. She had tried them all, encouraging when he was doing well and being honest when his attempts needed more work. Her sweet tooth was being satisfied and then some.

There was just one small problem.

"Matthew."

"Hmm?"

"I can't taste test it if you're breathing down my neck."

"I'm not breathing down your neck."

"You're hanging over me."

He huffed out a sigh and took a large step back. "Better?"

She squinted at him, then turned her attention back to the cookie. Lifting it to her mouth, she took a large bite, eyes drifting shut as baked deliciousness exploded on her tongue. The cookie itself was lightly flavored with peanut butter, and the center reminded her of the peanut butter balls he made each Christmas. "Mm," she moaned, wanting to chew slowly to savor it but also wanting to eat the rest. "Oh my god."

Before she could take another bite, she heard his sigh of relief.

As much as she wanted to devour the remainder, she also needed to try the chocolate one. It tasted as good as the first and she moaned again, tongue darting out to catch the filling that clung to her bottom lip. "Oh my god, Matt, these are great."

"Yeah?" he asked.

Shayna glanced at him and saw the smug smile starting to form on his face. His cheeks bulged as it spread further, into a grin, and she felt her own grin forming. "Yeah. I love it. What are you gonna call them?"

"I think I'm gonna stick with Peanut Butter Surprise."

"How many did you make just now?"

"Three of each, why?"

"I want to see how they taste cooled. You can't drop everything to make them fresh if someone orders one, right?"

"Right." He nodded, still grinning, and turned to go into the kitchen. "I'll bring you some iced tea."

"Thank you." Settling back, she pulled her blanket over her legs and sighed happily while eating the rest of the cookies. When he brought her the glass of iced tea she smiled up at him. "What else are you working on?"

"Sugar cookies. I'm trying Lenny's recipe." He took the empty plate. "You need anything else?"

Shayna shook her head and reached for the remote. "I'm perfect."

"Yeah, but do you need anything?"

Laughing at the sentimentality, she shook her head again. "No, really, I'm fine. You don't have to wait on me."

"Babe, you fell."

"I slumped," she corrected.

He set the plate down and sat on the couch. Within seconds he had pulled her feet into his lap. By the time the commercial playing had finished, he had scooted across and shifted her so she rested in his lap. "You sure you don't want to call the doctor?"

Groaning, she let her head rest on his shoulder. "Matt. I'm fine."

"But why did you fall? I'm sorry, why did you slump?" he asked, frowning.

"I'm exhausted? I'm working all day, then I'm spending the evenings packing and wrapping presents for the kids or cleaning, and on weekends we're down in Bells Creek—"

"We can stay home this weekend," he said.

"No," she protested, sitting up. "You've got to meet with Lenny about the recipes. And there's the church thing."

"I can video chat—"

"And get distracted by me or the kids. I'll be fine." She kissed his cheek. "And I do want to go to church."

"We don't even go to church here," he muttered, throwing up his hands.

"I know, but it's Christmas." Smiling when he rolled his eyes and sighed, which she knew meant the matter was settled, she reached for the remote again. "Don't burn the cookies."

"Damn it," he sighed, slipping a kiss to her cheek. "Be right back."

"Mmhmm." She turned her attention back to the TV after he got to his feet. Grunting as he reached to tuck the blanket over her legs, she turned her head to look at him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm fixing the blanket for you."

"Matthew."

"Hmm?"

"What is with you lately?" She gave up on watching TV and switched it off, tossing the remote to the coffee table. "You've been smothering me."

"I have not." He straightened, hands on his hips. "You think I'm smothering you?"

"For the past week you've been flapping around me like a mother hen." If she didn't know better, she would think he'd figured out she was pregnant again. But the man was oblivious about that sort of thing. When she had learned she was going to have Madison she hadn't wanted to tell him too soon, fearing his reaction if she lost her like she'd lost what would have been their first child. So she had held the news back, expecting him to figure it out as the weeks slipped by. When, just after twelve weeks, he had slipped his hand over her middle and joked that she had gained a little weight, she had been too amused that he was truly that unaware to be mad. With Michael it had been the same thing, though she hadn't really worried about suffering another loss. Because she had known from the start that the baby would come, healthy and robust. She had left her obstetrician appointment cards and prenatal vitamins on the kitchen table and counter, she had bought maternity bras and left the tags on the bathroom counter, and Matt had merely nudged those things aside. Finally she had taken the first ultrasound printout and tucked it in a card, writing Pretty sure this one's a boy? inside and leaving it on his nightstand. And she would forever remember his joyous hoot when he'd discovered it the next morning, coming to hug her while she showered.

No, he didn't know. There was no way he knew. If he'd found the positive test stick in the bathroom trash he would have brought it out to her wherever she was and asked if it meant what he thought it did. If he'd seen her obstetrician appointment on the family calendar he would have asked what was up. Either he hadn't noticed, or he was keeping quiet. And she knew her husband. He didn't keep quiet about anything with the people he loved. Which meant he hadn't figured it out.

"I'm just trying to make up for all the time I've had to be away lately," he said. "I know you've had to do so much extra around here since I'm always going back and forth to meet with Lenny—"

"I don't mind," she promised. "When I was doing those classes last year you had to do extra."

"I know, but it's the worst time of year for me to make you carry more weight on your shoulders."

"That's what marriage is," she reminded him. "We pick up the slack, we even it out. At the end of the day as long as the kids are good and things are taken care of, it all works."

The buzzer sounded from the kitchen. Matt looked ready to say something but just nodded. "I just love you, babe."

"I just love you, too."

Smiling now, he headed into the kitchen.

The sugar cookies were delicious. Perfect, and just the way she loved them. She ate more than she should have, encouraged by his obvious delight that she was enjoying them, and washed them down with the iced tea. Then, stretching, she checked the time and groaned. "What time are you leaving?"

"I'm not."

"The kids."

"They're staying with Nick tonight."

"Why?" she asked. Not that she was complaining. She was so tired she knew she wouldn't have the energy to do more than flop on the couch with them and watch a movie or Christmas cartoons. Michael would get bored then want to play, Madison would drag out a million toys and games, and Matt would be in and out of the kitchen. Just thinking of the resulting mess exhausted her. Not that they wouldn't clean up, but the messes gave her anxiety.

"Date night?" he suggested.

"Date night. It's four o'clock, any place we'd want to go is already gonna be packed, I'm wiped out from my fall—"

"Slump."

Rolling her eyes, she lightly nudged his thigh with her foot. "It might have been a little fall."

"I was thinking we could stay in," he said, dropping onto the couch and pulling her legs into his lap. One hand slid to her ankle and began to rub.

"Perfect," she murmured.

"We'll order in and you can find something sappy to watch on TV." His fingers slipped up her calf.

"Good idea, since you've probably destroyed the kitchen."

"I cleaned up as I went," he defended.

"Anymore plans for this date night?" she asked, giggling when he scooted over and half-lay over her.

"It's been a while since we made love," he murmured.

She snorted. "This morning didn't count?"

"I mean in bed."

"Wait." She shifted so she lay on her back, sighing. "People can make love in a bed? You're kidding. I thought they were just for sleeping."

He laughed, and his kiss was gentle. "I hear a lot of people have sex in beds. Like, all the time."

"No way. Is that legal?"

"I think it's more legal than the things we've done."

"Because you get off on the idea of getting caught," she murmured.

"And you don't?"

"I just get off on you."

***

They didn't order in. They stayed on the couch, being sweet and a little sappy and sharing kisses. When he dragged himself away to throw together dinner, she headed for the bathroom for a quick shower. And, seeing her reflection in the mirror, she sighed and wrapped herself in her robe and went to rummage in the closet for the gift she'd planned to give him on Christmas Eve. It wasn't fair to make him wait, to hold onto the knowledge like a secret she didn't want to share. After dressing in her matching shirt and a pair of leggings, she threw the robe on again and headed into the living room. It was corny, she knew, but she also knew he would appreciate the humor.

"Hey," she said when she stepped into the kitchen. She glanced to the sink and saw it was empty. The counters had been wiped down. He had cleaned and she smiled with relief as he turned from the stove.

"What's that?" he asked when she held out the gift box to him.

"An early Christmas present." She waited for him to say he hadn't gotten her anything yet, just so she could quip that he had. But he didn't, grinning as he ripped the paper from the box.

"Thanks, babe," he said, barely glancing into the box before stepping close to give her a kiss.

"Did you even look at it?" she sighed.

"It's a black t-shirt with some writing—"

"Matthew, read it."

Rolling his eyes, he popped the lid off the box again, letting it hit the floor. He pulled out the shirt and held it up, and she saw his eyes squint then the box hit the floor so he could hold the shirt with both hands. "I Put Buns in the Oven," he read softly. "Babe, what… Buns?"

Opening her robe so he could read her shirt, she laughed when his eyes widened. I've Got Two Buns in the Oven.

"Twins?" he whispered, gulping.

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

"Positive. Two little dots on the ultrasound, two heartbeats." She pressed her lips together, needing him to do more than stare at her as though she had told him she were an alien high priestess.

"Twins," he breathed.

"Are we happy about this? Or are you just still in shock?" she asked.

"Definitely shock. I knew you were pregnant, but not with twins—"

"You knew?!"

"Yeah, I figured it out last week. When Nick pointed out I only put on a few pounds when you get pregnant. I looked at the calendar and had to do some math, and…" He grinned, sheepish. "I've been waiting for you to tell me."

"Is this why you've been smothering me?"

"Yeah…" He rubbed the back of his neck. Then his grin widened and he tossed the t-shirt onto the table, reaching to pull her to him. "We're happy about this."

"Absolutely," she agreed.

"How far along are you?"

"About ten weeks."

He was silent for a long moment, then pulled back, grinning. "The basement."

"No! The closet."

"Are you sure? Because the basement was hotter."

"But the closet was almost poetic," she murmured, leaning to kiss his cheek. "Making two babies while our kids were rattling the door…"

"It was hurried and you got a cramp in your leg," he grumbled. He wrapped his arms tighter around her.

"Yeah but it was still great."

"It's always great."

"Yeah, it's always great," she agreed. A giggle bubbled up when he leaned into her for a deep kiss.

"Two more," he whispered a few moments later. Resting his forehead against hers, he sighed.

"Yeah," she murmured. "Thanks for that."

"I'm so sorry."

"This is it," she said. "Four is more than enough."

"Good thing we're moving into a big house."

"New business, new house, new babies…" Shayna couldn't help but grin. "Nobody can say we do anything half-assed."

"Nope, we are definitely whole-assed."

"I love you, by the way."

"Love you too," he sighed, squeezing her close.

"Love you more."

"Love you most."

#matt jackson #matt jackson fanfiction #my fics #not a multipart omg #universe: RPC #12daysofchristmas #for J :)

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nothisis-ridiculous · 3 years

Text

Take Me Home Now: Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve: In Your Head, In Your Head, They are Dyin'

Set after the events of ME3.

A rewrite. Ao3.

FemShepxKaidan

Geez, open my big fucking mouth much? Oh Jane, could you go to the Citadel? But why shouldn't you? You said you had spent time there; you're the one person who knows how to get around. She half-assedly kicked at the locker at the foot of her cot, besides, Rogers is too green. We need someone with experience leading the team. It would be best if you kept busy; civilian life doesn't agree with you.

They couldn't order her around.

Jane craned her head, taking in the entirety of the beam that would catapult her into the Citadel. A frown was the sole betrayal of her panicked nervous system, she would never be ready to go back there. But this was not the time for fear, not when Biotic's Division looked to her guidance. At least she could hide the apprehension- they looked like they could piss themselves at any moment. Jane knew the beam wouldn't lead to death but they were not so confident. It seemed insane, she got it.

Roy and Helen talked amongst the students, leaving Jane some time to collect herself. The last time she had approached the beam the entirety of Hammer had died to get her here, it seemed too easy now that it was a simple jaunt down a hill.

"You sure this thing won't vaporize us?" Roger's question interrupted her solitude.

"I'm not saying it's going to be pleasant, or you'll like what we're going to find-" distress crossed the 2nd lieutenant's face, this was the wrong approach, "if Anderson's team could make it to activate the Crucible, I think we will be fine. Besides, think of the bragging rights- being the one to restore communications with the Citadel, and eventually with the rest of the galaxy. It's not a small thing."

"But I'm not leading the operation," Rogers's hadn't taken the forced deference to the Recruit well.

"Believe me, kid, you'll be glad for all the calls you didn't have to make." She had refused to lead on principle, even after several others had tried to guilt her for refusing the mission. Jane wouldn't have stepped up if not for a series of harsh conversations from Mr. Alenko, most of them implying he would take the mantle if she would not, "get the team into place, we leave in two."

Roy and Helen naturally separated from the group, not away from the mass of students but toward her. Roy led a step ahead and Helen fixing her with the usual judgmental stare from behind her husband.

"I'll be fine," the woman snapped the M-77 into a ready form, "it should be easy."

"Be careful."

How many times had she heard that? To boot, in the same somber tone. The last time, so physically close to where they stood now. It was an odd irony that his father stood closer to the beam than Kaidan had managed to get.

"Thank you," regret was a hell of a thing, so unprompted she grasped his hand unflinching under that whiskey-hued gaze. For a blip of a moment, she looked forward to coming back. Hope returned in a microdose.

The students lined up as ordered, each reaction as individual as the person who stood before the blue light while they wouldn't argue with the mission: it didn't mean they had to trust it. Jane would question flinging herself blindly into the beam, she had at a couple of points. On Illos, she at least had the Mako to give her the illusion of safety, here for the second time only experience made her undaunted besides the emotional toll.

"Alright, the mission is simple. Meet with Bailey or whoever is left in charge. After that, we worry about setting up the long-range commlink," it was better to put this off as a simple run, when things got complicated, they would deal with it then, "on arrival, where exactly we'll end up is a mystery. This functions much like a Mass Relay, so small groups and make sure your ass is out of the way."

Jane nodded to Rogers and the female that stood beside him, "anyone else want to go first?"

She didn't wait for a reaction before sauntering brazenly into the beam.

The Spectre had thought she was used to running into the unexpected. She had made a career of dealing with the strange, but awe of circumstance truly never went away. This time it was far more physical than expected. Pulling herself over the lip and onto the metal path, water violently expelling from her nose and mouth. If she were a little more with it, she would have pulled a gun on the Keeper scuttling by- but she was a little more focused on breathing. The next concern was the two in line behind her; one was lucky and ended up straddled over the railing the next erupted from the water much in the way she had.

Once it was clear all was fine, Jane rolled onto her back. Dark laughter barking from her diaphragm. It was a far cry from the body-lined hallways and corridors she had dreamed up, the relay monument looked down on her. God, she felt nauseous. Her sides didn't stop seizing until all breath left her body, eyes stinging with tears. Rolling to all fours, then finally upright the world swirled into sudden clarity.

This was the Presidium. Behind her, the partially broken statue that honored the krogan. A white spire jutting into the sky, a brave blue flower standing tall, heat speckled metal walkways, and the white-walled building. Her fingers raked through a tangle of wet hair, shook out her pistol, pulled Rogers from the railing, and tightly squeezed her fist until the twang of her muscles bid for release. The relay fired again, splashing followed, and the approach of footsteps came from her right side. The tepid water running down her face made pinpointing smells impossible, but she could sure taste the strange flavor of the unfiltered liquid.

"Holy shit."

"See, you should have never doubted me."

The Lieutenant did not find it quite so humourous.

"Lighten up, Kid," she remarked blithely, turning her attention to the squad that corralled them into the center of the walkway, "it's nice to see C-Sec arrive promptly."

The turian officer scoffed but lowered his weapon, "Bailey will want to see you."

"Good, we're looking for him."

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"How is it always you?" Bailey hardly looked up at her, "but I've got to admit, nobody else is crazy enough to walk through a beam on foot."

The man was one of the few who could recognize her immediately, even with grown-out and natural hair. He had seen the scarring left behind after the Lazarus Project before they had faded for the first time. It took only a little imagination to see past the more extensive facial scars.

"The first or second time?"

Bailey's head craned up, concern crossing his face, "Com-"

Jane waved a hand, "please, Bailey, that person is gone. Let her die with her crew."

The concern grew behind the glow of his omnitool "if anyone ever asks, you waved your Spectre status in my face. But I don't think you are here to catch up."

"No, I am not."

The team back on Earth had tried to reconnect with the Citadel, but all attempts to reach them had failed. So a mission to the station became necessary. Bailey attempted to skirt the subject, but life on the Citadel was not easy. Slowly some peace was restored but at a snail's pace. Whatever jammed the comms slowed any hope of a unified force on the station. It also explained their failure to find a tech expert who might fix the issue and perhaps the lack of a Spectre or someone of a higher rank to authorize it—security measures as usual were great until they hindered progress.

"I'll need you before you try and disappear again," Bailey warned, swirling the scotch in his lowball glass. He figured this was special occasion enough, even if the hero returned as little more than a ghost.

"I'll consider it my retirement party," she mused, finishing off the bitter liquid, "seems easy compared to a Reaper invasion."

"Nothing with you is ever simple."

"Hell, this could all be a dream... for both of us." It felt a little cold for a dream, but it was all surreal. For now, she put it off as walking old hallways and the memories of the companions that haunted the place.

"The scotch must be hitting you hard."

"I haven't hit the hard stuff since-" the statement crossed into territory painful for both of them, "but I say there is no time like the present. Must be driving my squad nuts waiting."

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"Shepard before-"

Jane flinched, and Bailey retracted for a moment. Equal parts confusion and frustration with the jumpy woman. Perhaps it was time, untold horrors of war, or the alcohol that made her weird, if not mentioning the other multitude of reasons the Spectre seemed off her game. She went by a different name to the men she led, and it was becoming apparent the problem was far out of his wheelhouse.

"I have to give it to you plain, we found Anderson's body in here. It looked like he was shot."

"I know."

She had shot him after all. For a long time, she had tried reasoning that it was not her fault; after all, the Illusive Man had made her do it. Those strange cybernetic eyes had stared at her in her dreams, one of the thousands of voices taunting her. Those blue eyes had found her again as she walked the hallways to the Council Chambers.

"He must have activated the Crucible before he died, it's funny because we all assumed you had done it."

Jane hadn't activated the Crucible. That was true. Maybe Mary had; it was all a little foggy.

"We gave him the best funeral we could, I can take you there later if you like," Bailey offered, trying to rouse her with a touch.

Jane shook her head, "another time, this is enough."

Too much.

Bailey nodded, falling behind a few paces so she could absorb the room. Mentally, she remarked on little other than it had become a bit overgrown in disuse and that she liked it better without the constant trickle of running water.

"Nothing unusual up here, Ma'am," buzzed the comm.

"Roger, roger."

"It wasn't funny, even when the Major did it."

Fine, "hold position, I want eyes on anything that could go wrong. I'll place the shunt."

Jane moved slowly across the catwalk, the face staring at her accusingly grew clearer as she approached. The simple frame wreathed in upkept foilage, plants, and candles of all sorts making up an altar. She tried to move through littered petals and papers with reverence, but some wound up disturbed fluttering into the pit below. Jane crouched to cradle the picture gently, "Admiral."

Her blue eyes scanned upwards, resting on the bloody handprint covering the virtual interface sensor.

The total weight of another being crashed onto her, attempting to wrestle her from the catwalk. Even after weeks without combat, Jane dislodged the man with ease throwing him over the unprotected edge. The unnatural steel blue eyes, shocked with bright blue patterns, brimming with fury. Quickly as they had entered her vision, the figure went still and dark.

Coldly, empty, she returned the broken frame to its spot. Her complete attention turning to the console that lit up at her presence. The only break from her attention was the dramatic slam of her fists on the sides of the railing behind the console- it wasn't working.

Before she could release her temper upon the undeserving railing again, a keeper nudged her aside. Compiling the necessary commands with ease, the sudden noise of a system erupting in a blastwave. As quickly as the creature arrived, it scuttled back away. Leaving Jane to complete her task.

Bailey looked over the ledge, approaching the woman slowly once he was satisfied.

"Commander Bailey, you should have access to all Citadel systems," her bright blue eyes turned to him with a terrifying hollowness, "don't make me regret it."

"You- but, he," Bailey swallowed, running a hand over his cropped hair, "it's never simple with you."

He grabbed her arm before she slipped by him, "take this."

"I should go."

"Don't worry, you weren't here," he called after the stumbling figure.

Jane didn't recall stumbling back through the relay, or for that matter, picking her way back to the mall. Or the time she had left, or if she had bothered to warn anyone in the meantime. Reality was a persnickety thing at the moment, failing to anchor her securely to the present.

It was dark, the mechs hadn't stopped her, and not even her body was warning her of exhaustion. It was all instinct.

The room she stole into, that was not so much a call of instinct but of desperation. Her world grew colder, and it was beginning to tumble at a speed that she could barely withstand.

"Rahna."

Nothing.

"Rahna."

"Jane?"

#kaidan alenko #shenko #fshenko #mass effect fanfiction

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mizufae · 3 years

Note

4, 9, 21, 30, 48, 68

SO MANY ASKS, MY BOREDOM RECEDES

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

ugh. I was the super smart but smelly kid, basically. I got placed in a GT core program in 4th grade (gifted and talented) and even there I was immediately shuffled to the second to last rung on the social ladder, I was the most normal one of the kids who ate erasers and were obviously autistic. Like also, I guess I was described as “an old soul” and “rude” because I used bad words. Before the GT program I was a bookworm and before that I was “extremely shy” but in 2nd grade I woke up one morning and was suddenly obnoxious. I suspect that my teachers didn’t know what the hell to do with me most of the time, but I always got really good grades despite refusing to do a lot of homework so it was kind of hard to crack my nut, I guess. One time in fifth grade I was called “tactless”.

9. favorite smell in the summer?

Honeysuckle on a warm clear night.

The town I moved to when I was seven years old has a big festival every year with craft booths and outdoor concerts and lots of food and carnival stuff and they have fireworks! It was within walking distance of our house, so every summer we’d walk there in the afternoon and spend a couple evenings there. This was how I saw Carbonleaf for free about a month before they made it really big! Anyway, here is the memory:

Walking home at night, sticky leather sandals on my feet. My friend met up with me while at the festival and she peels off to get to her neighborhood a few blocks along. My mom and dad are meandering about half a block ahead of me. I have a cracked glowstick around my neck, it’s a soft green and pink. The firework smoke has mostly cleared and the nearly full moon washes the dark streets with enough light to navigate without the flashlight my mom had tucked in her purse. The streets on this block don’t have sidewalks so we have to be careful, but everyone is walking home around this time so it’s not too dangerous. The breeze passes through and any lingering smoke is blown away, replaced with a floral waft. I don’t understand what it is until I bump into my parents who have stopped. My dad is picking at a bush that’s grown over a chainlink fence. “What are you doing?”

“Eating honeysuckle,” my dad responds. I make an incredulous noise. “You can eat it, see? You pick a flower, like this, without any leaves on the bottom, and then pinch off the bottom. The stamen will come through and pull the nectar down... Then you suck it like the bottom of an ice cream cone. It’s sweet. Here, try it.”

After I try one and mangle it, my dad prepares one for me. I’m surprised. I’d only eaten pansies before, and those tasted like mint and parsley had a baby, not sweet at all. “Can you eat the petals?”

“Yeah, but they don’t taste like anything. Here, you want more?”

“I can do it this time.”

“Okay, be careful though, don’t pick any too low down, dogs can pee on it.”

“Ew, Dad!”

At this point my mother chides us on back home, but I pulled off a big tendril to pick at the rest of the way.

21. obsession from childhood?

When I was little I was terrified of most things, but a big thing that really freaked me out was clowns and also people in mascot costumes. As an adult I have made some uh... progress on this (am I a furry? am I a clownfucker? I not NOT those things...) but anyway in an attempt to get me to maintain my chill if I accidentally found a clown or mascot at one of a million children friendly places where such characters appear without warning (the zoo, a baseball game, the mommy and daughter beauty pageant my mom idiotically signed us up for when I was like, three... every halloween ever... the library...) they rented this movie that was like, a behind the scenes clown circus documentary.

I have spent a solid 20 minutes trying to look it up just now and it is ungoogleable because of all the trendy murderous clown bullshit these days, thanks a lot stephen king, but anyway. My older brother had to watch it with me the first time but it was like... the clown showed how he went from just a guy through every step of putting on the makeup and costume, and some juggling stuff and some other tricks, and what makes a funny physical joke, and some other circus things... And then he took off the clown outfit and became a regular guy again. I WAS OBSESSED. Apparently, I requested we rent this movie from blockbuster EVERY TIME for MONTHS to the point where blockbuster offered to sell us the VHS. I still remained scared of clowns for years after this but it helped me out a lot and also it’s connected to my whole thing about practical effects. I also watched the jim hensons secrets of the muppets thing about twenty bajillion times, it all exists in the same space in my brain.

30. places that you find sacred?

Gazebos and thresholds, mostly. Also I once had a religious experience staring at a Van Gogh in the National Gallery of London. It was Wheatfield with Crows. I don’t think I saw god, because I dont particularly believe in god much, but I do feel like... some part of me cracked open and was able to connect with some part of a person who had painted it a hundred years ago. I only learned that it was possibly the last thing he ever painted like, a year later. I was in London visiting a friend who had moved there a year before, we were in our senior year of high school, I was 17 and applying to art schools at the time, so maybe it was just a thing about, like, the right time and mental space for it, but also... me and Vincent are like... yeah. This is what I hope I see when I die, etc.

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

I hope that I would be an apricot but that’s just cuz I really like them. Maybe I am a coconut, hairy on the outside and a hard nut to crack.

When I started to grow boobs, my mom told me a funny story about how in college she walked in on her roommate standing in front of the mirror in just her underwear, cupping her breasts. And when my mom was like “uh... what are you... doing?” her roommate was like “sigh... do you think I have oranges? Or are they more like tangerines... I wish I had grapefruits like you!” and from then on the citrus system of breast classification was set. Hippies, amirite?

Anyway my boobs kept growing and growing and growing. I am currently a K cup??? But anyway one day as a teenager I was in the grocery store and they had these fruits that were EVEN BIGGER than a grapefruit. They were pale green and smelled really nice! And when we sliced it open it had SO MUCH PITH, but the fruit inside was a pretty pink... It’s a pomelo! The precursor to grapefruits. My breasts are now bigger than even pomelos, but whenever I see them in the market I’m like “my boob fruit!”

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

I try my best to taste foods I’ve disliked over and over again throughout the years to get myself to become okay with them because I find the enjoyment of food to be vitally important to my willingness to continue existing. But one thing I will NEVER force myself to eat again is natto. I tried it about four different times, once the cheap conbini kind, once at an extremely swanky japanese hotel breakfast, one in a really nice sustainable sushi restaurant with my favorite fish mackerel, once from a friend’s fridge, and UGH, every time, I just wanna spit it back out immediately. Sorry, fam.

In terms of things that come in different flavors I think the grossest soda is the grapefuit favorito which is like drinking bubbly soap.

#tijuanabiblestudies

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dragonnan · 3 years

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This is faaaar from a complete list and will be spotty at best but I’ve been pondering MCU characters a lot as I’ve been getting slowly back to work on my mega-fic. I LOVE minor head canons. Simple stuff like favorite foods or what music they listen to or were they ever a smoker or whatever whatever. So I’m gonna give myself the challenge of crafting some head canon and anyone else is very welcome to dive in! (some things are already established via canon)

~ Ethnicity ~ Faith ~ Smoker ~ Alcohol ~ Favorite food ~ Favorite cookie ~ Favorite animal(s) ~ Favorite music ~

Tony Stark: Ethnicity: Mixed European-American-Jewish (he refers to himself as a “mutt”) Faith: “No thanks” being the initial answer but if he feels like opening up he’ll admit to believing there’s likely “something” out there but at the same time figures that “something” stopped caring about humanity a long long time ago. Smoker? Never liked cigarettes but smoked a few cigars when he was younger due to Obie’s influence. He never was a big fan but wanted to fit in with his mentor. Alcohol: Influenced both by his father and Obie, Tony started drinking hard liquor semi-regularly as young as 14 (his Dad let him try his first sip at the age of 6). He pretty much sticks with Scotch or Bourbon but is not opposed to cheap beer at a ball game. In fact the cheaper the better - a requirement for any self-respecting American. Favorite food: hot dogs. Neither one of his parents cooked. Breakfast and lunch were whatever whenever for all three of them but dinner? You better be sure you were at that table before the plates were set down or you could go without (and Tony got a slap from his father when he’d observed that rule only seemed to apply to him). But on the nights he was sent to his room, Jarvis would slip upstairs, later, with a sandwich or, on really rough nights, a couple of hotdogs. Favorite cookie: Those Christmas wreath ones made with cereal and marshmallow with the cinnamon candies. Favorite animal(s): he likes all animals but if he had to pick one for a pet he’d get an iguana. Favorite music: well duh lolol.

Stephen Strange: Ethnicity: Mixed European-American (borrowed from Benedict Cumberbatch’s ethnicity and adding the American) Faith: Originally atheist but now closer to Buddhist. Smoker: Never. Even prior to becoming a sorcerer he has always been conscious of what he takes into his body; especially given the history of cancer on his mother’s side of the family. Alcohol: Wine, occasionally, though he isn’t really a social drinker per-say. Favorite food: The spicy shrimp and pork dumplings from a Thai place in Midtown. Favorite cookie: Hmmm.... not a big sweets guy but he won’t turn away a few ginger-pecan cookies with coffee. Favorite animal(s): dogs - unequivocally. He had a border collie growing up on his family farm in Nebraska. Favorite music: please don’t make this poor man actually have to choose.

Steve Rogers: Ethnicity: Irish (as per comics) Faith? Irish-Catholic (as per the comics). Smoker? Prior to the serum there was no way he could safely do so with his health issues. After he started traveling with the performers all of the girls in the group smoked and he tried it out a few times but never developed a taste for it. Alcohol: he drank A LOT - easy enough to do as it never had any real effect on him. He enjoys scotch and bourbon (a taste he picked up from hanging around Howard Stark). Steve seems to low-key always have the munchies (like most enhanced) and once Tony picked up on that there are always a variety of snacks scattered here and there throughout the compound (also of benefit for Bruce, Peter, Thor, and, later, Bucky). Steve’s favorite foods typically remind him of his mother’s cooking. While they’d never had much (especially after his father died) his mom could do a lot with limited supplies. She used to make a fantastic meat pie with ground beef or tongue. He hates SPAM. They ate it in the Army, constantly, and just the smell will occasionally send him back to those days and not in a good way. Favorite cookie? Oreos. He can clean up a family sized pack in like 10 minutes. Steve loves animals but is especially fond of horses and dogs. There was a dog in his unit in WW2 and Steve, like most of the other men, would share bites of his rations with it. Steve is nostalgic about music from the 40s but finds that 70s rock really resonates with him.

Bucky Barnes: Ethnicity: Romanian-American (borrowing a little from Sebastian Stan’s ethnicity) Faith? Possibly agnostic. Smoker? Heck yes - both cigarettes and cigars. Like Steve, the serum he received (via Hydra’s experimentation) means he gets to dodge the detrimental side effects of smoking. Alcohol: He likes to drink but is almost exclusively a beer drinker. He has a big appetite but refuses to eat around others if he can at all help it. His favorite food is corned beef with cabbage. Steve’s grandmother was an Irish immigrant and would make it every Sunday before the war impacted rations. Since both Bucky’s parents were dead he’d often have dinner with his best friend. Also, unlike Steve, he actually likes SPAM. But then, arguably, he isn’t terribly picky about food in general. Favorite cookie: molasses. Favorite animal(s): birds - eagles in particular - though he doesn’t look too deeply at the psychology of their ability to just fly away. Needless to say a crafty observer might spot a former Winter Soldier tossing seeds towards the pigeons. Favorite music: He’s pretty eclectic though he shies away from anything too loud like death metal. He finds classical very soothing.

Peter Parker: Ethnicity: Mixed American-Scandinavian-German-ish Faith: Protestant upbringing but unsure where he currently stands. If pressed he’d say he’s “leaving his options open” Smoker? “Oh gross!” Alcohol: “Um, too young to drink, thanks! But if I WERE to... you know, try it just to taste it there was this mudslide at one of Flash’s parties that was super good...” Favorite food: spaghetti and meatballs. Lots of meatballs. Favorite cookie: chocolate chocolate chip with chunks. Favorite animal(s): NOT spiders. And NOT birds given how many rooftops he’s traversed layered in pigeon ick. He’d probably say cats. Favorite music: The B side of techno rock - especially Depeche Mode.

Peter Quill: Ethnicity: Half mixed American and half celestial. Faith: His Dad was a god and he killed him so he figures he probably isn’t on the best terms with the Big G God should He... or She... or Them... be out there. Look he just wants to do his thing and cause a little trouble without mixing it up with any other celestial types but if they DO wanna throw down he’d like to point out that he’s 1 for 1 and willing to rumble. Smoker: He would not say no to a really good cigar and may have possibly lifted a case from Yondu’s stash when he struck out on his own. Alcohol: Anywhere any time and in large quantities. Favorite food: A thick steakhouse bacon burger with potato chips right on the patty. Extra cheese please! Favorite cookie: He’s a simple guy with simple tastes. classic chocolate chip no frills no fuss and fresh from the oven. Favorite animal(s): He likes dogs - who doesn’t like dogs? But he really likes cows. Just maybe don’t mention the burger thing. Favorite music:

Thor: He’s a Norse god of legend so I figure we can forego the ethnicity/faith questions lol. Smoker: He has never understood this human custom nor has he felt any inclination to try it himself Alcohol: Beer, mead, and anything capable of knocking him on his ass. Favorite food: chili with ghost peppers. Though nowhere near as hot as the fire chilies of Muspelheim (which would be instantly fatal for humans so its just as well). Favorite cookie: strawberry cheesecake with macadamia nuts. Favorite animal(s): It’s a tossup between bilgesnipe and whales. Favorite music: The mighty horns of battle! He also enjoys old school country, much to Tony’s disgust. The story aspect of that music is what appeals to him.

Bruce Banner: Ethnicity: Italian-American Faith: Catholic in his childhood; currently Atheist or maybe agnostic. Smoker: He tends to avoid any substances for, you know, obvious reasons. Alcohol: See previous. Favorite food: Waffles with sliced mango. Favorite cookie: Oatmeal. Favorite animal(s): Mantis shrimp - “did you know they can generate so much power in their attacks that they can briefly super-heat the water up to 7,700 °C??” Favorite music: Indian- especially Krishna Bhajan.

Clint Barton: Ethnicity: Mixed European-American and Panamanian. Faith: His parents were both Protestant but he’s never latched on to any specific faith and hasn’t really devoted a lot of thought on the matter. He has a sorta loose idea of “maybe something out there” but that’s all the further he’s gotten on the subject. What he tells anyone who asks it’s that his religion is coffee. Smoker: Briefly when he was a teen. Alcohol: Beer - he’s a fan of dark lager. Favorite food: Coney Island dogs, Pizza, and pickle flavored potato chips. Favorite cookie: Monster cookies with the mini M&Ms. Favorite animal(s): Dogs Favorite music: 80s rock and some country.

Natasha Romanoff: Ethnicity: Russian. Faith: She was not given much choice when younger and was raised as “state atheist” (per comics). In the years since escaping that life, however, she has tried to discover more about herself. Her parents were both Russian Jewish and there has been a pull to discover more about that faith - especially since meeting Wanda - who is Jewish. Smoker: No. Alcohol: Some vodka - that’s a given. But she actually prefers wine; and honestly her favorites are wine spritzers. Favorite food: Favorite cookie: Krumkake filled with creme and berries. Favorite animal(s): Favorite music: Overall she listens to a pile of little-known bands and whomever is playing at whatever bar in whatever city she happens to be in. She also is a huge fan of old school Spice Girls.

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vintage-story-time · 3 years

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Step-Father's Sins by Unknown

Chapter 3

Melinda Madison — more commonly known as Mindy — was the oldest of the girls, and was growing up to look just like her mother.

Her breasts were large and her hair was long and black. Her eyes were large and had the same playful twinkle in them.

Melinda had a reputation with the boys of Rushdale as a good sport. She had not been a virgin in some time.

Melinda always thought that the stuff she heard about staying chaste until she found Mr. Right was pure bullshit.

She knew that her desires were just as strong as the guys, and she saw no reason why everyone couldn't have a good time.

In order to tease boys, she would have to tease herself as well, and that always seemed stupid to Mindy.

She was seeing a number of guys that spring, but her favorite date was a boy named MacIntyre Symms.

She was out with MacIntyre that night and she knew that she was going to get some steamy sex in before the evening was through.

MacIntyre was the quarterback on the Rushdale High School football team and the pitcher on the baseball team.

Along with being the school's sports hero, Mindy thought that he was the handsomest boy in the whole town.

She had taken some teasing about moving to Caledonia, since the two schools had always been bitter rivals.

MacIntyre had picked up Mindy in his green Pinto hatchback earlier, and they had gone straight to the local lover's lane to park.

The spot was called — appropriately enough — Sex Hill.

The hill was so high that one could see the lights from Rochester on the horizon to the north.

MacIntyre was tall, blonde and had deep blue eyes that made Mindy's insides feel as if they were turning to ginger-ale.

"It's warm night," MacIntyre said.

"Do you have a blanket?"

"Uh huh."

"Good, let's fuck outside under the stars."

MacIntyre loved the idea and got out of the car.

The AM radio was blasting out rock and roll music.

MacIntyre and Melinda had been out a number of times before so he wasn't worried about whether or not he would score.

Melinda wanted all the guys to know that she was "easy."

She had heard that boys didn't like to go out with girls who got around, but her experience had shown the exact opposite to be true.

Ever since she had started being an active sexual animal she had found that her popularity had increased a lot.

She knew that MacIntyre Symms — for example — never went out with a girl unless he was sure of getting his rocks off.

Melinda was smart enough to know that teenage boys were a horny lot and they quickly wearied of prick teases who gave them blue balls and made them walk home with a limp.

MacIntyre went to the back of his car and pulled out a blanket so he could spread it out in the grass next to the car on the plateau atop Sex Hill.

Melinda thought that the spring when it was starting to get warm was the best time to fuck beneath the stars.

She knew that once the summer came and the nights got hot, the bugs would make it uncomfortable to be outside.

"Why don't you take off your clothes," MacIntyre said. "I'm dying to see those fabulous tits of yours."

Melinda could feel a blush of pride make her face turn hot as the blonde jock complimented her large firm breasts.

"I'll get naked if you will," Melinda said, tilting her head a little to one side, almond-shaped dark brown eyes twinkling with her naughty urges.

She cocked her hips to one side, feeling her nipples pressing against the front of her blouse.

She never wore a bra, her tits lifting a separating more than adequately on their own, so one could always tell when her silver-dollar sized nipples were growing into erections from her hominess.

Like her mother's, Melinda's nipples pointed slightly upward, and grew to twice their normal size when she was feeling sexually excited.

"It's a deal," MacIntyre said.

She untucked her blouse and began to unbutton from the top.

MacIntyre licked his lips with the tip of his tongue to moisten them as he waited to see those fantastic tits in the blue moonlight.

Melinda could feel an ache growing in her pussy and she had a great desire to touch herself between the legs.

She finished unbuttoning her blouse and pulled it open so the handsome blonde teenage boy could see them.

They both thought that it was a perfect night for fucking.

Sex Hill was a very beautiful place — perfect for passion.

On this night there wasn't a cloud in the sky.

The moon was full and shone bright upon the young lovers.

MacIntyre could already feel his balls swelling and aching as if filled with impatient insects.

His scrotal sack felt filled to the brim with come.

"I feel like I've got a hair-trigger tonight," MacIntyre said.

He pulled his Tee-shirt up over his head and threw it onto the hood of the green Pinto hatchback.

"Why don't I give you a blow job first so you will be able to keep it up longer when you fuck me," Melinda suggested.

MacIntyre thought that he was going to cream right in his jeans when he heard the little black haired girl say those words.

He wondered why all of the girls in the world couldn't understand boys as well as Melinda. Girls like her were sadly few and far between. She loved to give pleasure as much as she loved to receive it.

Melinda didn't believe in playing cat and mouse games with her body like most of the teenage girls in Rushdale, and that was just fine with MacIntyre.

He knew that her attitude toward sex was a sign of maturity.

He was glad that he was with her that night. He couldn't think of any other girl he would have rather fucked.

"Sounds great!" MacIntyre exclaimed enthusiastically.

"I thought you would like that idea," Melinda said, reaching down to unbutton the top of her jeans as she kicked off her shoes.

Melinda's fingernails were long like her mother's, but she never wore polish on them — a matter of taste.

MacIntyre reached down to pull off his sneakers.

His cock was fully engorged inside the crotch of his pants.

He shivered as he thought of the girl putting her hot mouth on his prick.

Melinda did not feel like a martyr or anything like that when she sucked a guy's cock until he came.

She liked to suck dick. She liked the way a prick felt on her mouth, and had even learned to take a prick in her throat.

She always swallowed a guy's come rather than spit it out, not only because she knew it felt better for the guy but because she simply loved the flavor of a guy's fuck cream as it pumped down her gullet toward her belly.

Melinda could feel her pussy swelling and getting wet.

She knew that her pussy would be more than ready for his prick when it came time for her to violate her fuck hole. She could feel her clitoris swelling and pushing out from under its pink fleshy sheath, quivering at the tip of her slit.

She pulled off her pants and stood on the blanket, clutching at the cloth with her wiggling toes.

The boy pulled off his own pants and his cock came springing out from his loins, sticking way out in front of him at attention.

"Your cock looks delicious," Melinda said sweetly.

She puckered her lips and drew in cool air — producing a low whistling noise of feminine appreciation.

"Taste it," MacIntyre said, moving to the blanket.

He was a foot taller than her making her look even tinier.

Melinda dropped to her knees in front of him so that her face was at crotch. level.

The entire length of his healthy young cock was bobbing up and down and he put his hands on his hips.

He moved his feet a little. more than shoulder width apart on the blanket and bent at the knees so he was standing with his hips out in front of the rest of his body, throwing back his shoulders, tilting his chin upward and arching his back sharply. The little girl placed her fingertips on the base of his scrotal sack and lifted his heavy balls.

He moaned and shuddered at the intimate contact as the little girl began to kiss lightly at the insides of his muscular thighs.

Melinda's hands were tiny so that she could not clutch his entire scrotum at the same time no matter how far apart she spread her fingers.

She started down by his knees and kissed her way upward, getting ever closer to his swollen testicles.

She parted her full sensuous lips and allowed the tip of her tongue to protrude so she could lick the wrinkled sack.

MacIntyre's pubic hair was just as light as the hair on his head, which made the darkness of his engorged prick more apparent.

She placed the tip of her tongue on the wrinkled sack and began to flick it back and forth rapidly.

She made her tiny licks as gentle as she could, knowing that his hypersensitivity was greatly amplifying the sensations she caused.

The muscles in his thick thighs tensed and he bent a little more at the knees as she lapped happily at his balls.

She got her tongue under the sack so she could lick at the patch of skin between his balls and his asshole.

"Oh yeah, baby. Feels so good," MacIntyre said, closing his eyes and throwing back his head so that he was facing the cloudless night sky.

She switched to the flat part of her tongue and licked at the dangling wrinkled sack until it was wet and shiny from her spilled spittle.

She bobbed his balls up and down on her fingertips with her palm turned upward toward the full moon.

She looked as if she were trying to determine how much his glands of manhood weighed as she did this.

Melinda could see that there were little short and curly blonde hairs growing directly out of the sack.

She got one of those hairs between the thumb and forefinger on her right hand and gave it a gentle tug.

"Suck my balls, Mindy, God, it's not going to take much to make me come. I swear!" MacIntyre screamed.

She opened her mouth far.

She relaxed her lips and made her mouth cottony.

She knew she would have to be careful while sucking his balls.

She knew how easily she could hurt the boy if she sucked too hard.

She got his right testicle between her lips and sucked slowly and steadily, drawing in her cheeks.

She kept her tongue busy and flicked the tip across the nut even as she sucked on it, and the boy let out several deep moans of pleasure.

She repeated the process with the other ball and she could tell by the way he was breathing and fussing that he needed some attention on his prick.

The little teenage black haired girl could feel her cunt juice spilling out of her twat as she placed her fingertips on the underside of his cock and pushed it upward until the tip was pinned against his belly several inches above his navel.

There were veins running thick and blue along the underside of his rod, all the way from the base to the glans.

She loved the way his cock throbbed against her fingertips as she massaged his cock up and down gingerly.

The little girl stopped sucking his nuts and placed her tongue tip at the base of his dong on the underside.

She flicked the tip back and forth — fast and light as before — and straightened her back as her mouth worked upward toward the purple tip.

"God, you do this good. Where did you get that mouth?" MacIntyre said, his voice a little shaky from his passion.

She knew that MacIntyre's cock was a lot thicker than most guy's cocks, and she would have to open her mouth as far as she could get it in order to fit the purple head between her stretched lips.

She used the flat part of her tongue to lick his cock shaft as if it were an all-day sucker, and the boy was trembling furiously, begging for her throat with the little whimpering noises he was making.

She allowed his cock head to come away from his belly so she could roll her tongue lazily over it.

She could see in the blue moonlight that the piss hole at the tip of his prick was opening and closing like a tiny mouth.

Melinda used the very tip of her tongue, which the concentrated on keeping as pointy as possible, to playfully lick at the piss hole.

"SUCK ME!" MacIntyre called out.

He was desperate.

He was begging.

He needed to come so bad he could taste it.

He placed his hands on top of her head as she lowered his cock head to her hungry hot mouth.

Melinda concentrated on relaxing the muscles in her jaw.

She opened her mouth as far as she could, so that the corners of her lips were pulled taut.

She felt like she was saying, "AHHH!" while sitting in the dentist's chair.

She plunged forward with her head, moving her right hand to the base of his pole where she gripped his snugly.

She squeezed his cock rhythmically to simulate his natural throbbing.

The boy was making loud whimpering noises. He could tell that she would only have to suck him for a matter of seconds before he would blow his top.

She thrust forward with her head, feeling MacIntyre's strong fingers move to the base of her skull.

His cock was so thick that her fingers barely made it all the way around.

She moved her left hand to his wet balls and clutched him there securely.

She wrapped her lips around the ring of scar tissue at the tip of his cock and began to suck noisily.

She was going to suck his come right out of his balls as her smooth dark cheeks hollowed from the vacuum she created inside her oral cavity.

She used the tip of her tongue to lick at the tip as she concentrated on relaxing the muscles in her throat.

She wanted him to stick the entire length of his phallus into her mouth and thus deep into her throat.

She knew that it would end up being more like him fucking her face than her giving him a blow job.

But that was okay. Melinda had known for a long time that she was the kind of girl who liked to get fucked in all three of her sex holes.

Although Melinda did not know it, she was one of the few high school girls in the area who liked to get fucked in the asshole, a fact which did a great deal to help her popularity with the local boys.

Melinda offered variety as well as satisfaction to the boys she dated.

MacIntyre pressed forward with his hips, tensing the muscles in his ass cheeks, holding her firmly at the back of her head.

When Melinda first began offering her throat to boys it hurt like hell and made her gag and cry.

But she had learned to use her throat muscles to give pleasure, and had learned to force her own pain into the back of her mind so that she hardly noticed it.

The boy could feel the little girl's stretched open lips pushing toward the base of his large cock.

At the same time he was pressing the tip of his cock deeper into her throat where the muscles squeezed and tugged him.

She used her tongue to caress him as much as she could considering it was pressed against the bottom of her mouth by the girth of his rod.

The little girl took the whole prick inside her mouth and made a muffled grunting noise as MacIntyre began to fuck in and out.

Her eyes watered a little, but not enough for the tears to fall down onto her smooth dark cheeks.

She moved her knees back on the blanket so the could straighten her throat and make the face fuck more comfortable for both of them.

The boy eased his prick in and out about - five times when all of his muscles tensed and Melinda knew she was about to be fed a hot meal.

She jerked back with her head so that only the tip of his prick was inside her mouth at the point of orgasm.

She made a fist around the base of his prick and pumped up and down on the rod to enhance the intensity of his climax.

She continued to squeeze his balls and all of a sudden her mouth was filled with his steamy cream.

She puffed out her dark cheeks and began to swallow as hard as she could in a vain attempt to keep all of the juice inside her mouth.

But the initial blast of man come was enormous and she could feel the goo oozing from the corners of her mouth.

The thick white semen rolled down onto her chin to cool and some dripped off and fell onto the wrist that clutched his balls.

She loved the taste of come. It was refreshing. It was salty and fishy and a little bitter. It reminded her of the beach when the tide was out.

She could feel the thick fuck creaming rolling down her hot throat with the texture of raw egg whites.

She could feel a warm spot forming in the pit of her stomach where MacIntyre's come was gathering in a ball of contentment.

"SUCK IT DOWN! DRINK MY COME!"

MacIntyre screamed just before he howled at the full moon as if he were about to sprout hair all over his body and turn into a werewolf.

Melinda had read that a guy's come was almost one-hundred percent protein and was actually very good for little girls like herself-to drink.

She knew that there were a lot of girls who refused to drink down come because they thought it was disgusting.

Some didn't like the taste and some thought it was humiliating and degrading to be fed by a boy in that manner.

Melinda couldn't help but think those girls were fools.

She could feel herself getting healthier as she sucked down his load.

After the initial blast of spunk, the come was not as plentiful, and Melinda had no trouble keeping it all inside her mouth.

She sucked his cock head, squeezed his balls, and pumped the shaft of his prick until his come was through.

All of his muscles relaxed and she could feel her jaw close a little as his cock head lost some of its thickness. She could tell that it would only be seconds before the force of gravity had an effect on his cock head.

She slowly pulled her mouth away from his prick, stopping when her upper lip was an inch away from his piss hole.

The little girl could see that there was a string of come connecting her lip and his hole, making a bridge.

She pulled back with her neck and shoulders a little more until that string broke in the center.

Half fell onto his deflating cock head and the other half fell onto her upper tooth.

She pumped his prick a couple of times and saw a watery bead of post-orgasmic juice form at the little hole.

Melinda licked this away with a single swipe of her tongue.

She wanted all of his come to be in her belly where it belonged.

She could see that there was a thin film of semen covering his glans and she used the flat part of her tongue to lick this away also.

By the time the was done licking him the only thing making his cock wet was the saliva from her tongue.

She released her grip on his balls and his cock and looked up at him with a happy smile crossing her face.

"Did that feel good?" she asked — but she already knew the answer to the question.

"Oh, babycakes, you are the best," MacIntyre said, running his fingers through her thick black hair.

She rose to her feet and got up on her toes, tilting her chin upward, so they could kiss passionately.

MacIntyre could see that there was some of his come on her chin.

He licked her face clean, and this — naturally —- turned into a wet, sloppy tongue-kiss.

#Step-Father's Sins by Unknown #chapter 3

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