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#and i'm taking it on saturday but i might wind up taking it again in august :(
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Day 361, and today's attempt at redrawing 13 year old art is going significantly better than yesterday's XD
I was going through a lot of my old digital art yesterday and there's so much of it I want to redo, it's almost funny. I also learned that Photobucket has gone down the shitter and has become significantly more evil since the last time I used it. I'm gonna check this weekend to make sure all my original stuff is backed up on my external drive—it should be, but you never know.
Anyway, original is under the cut for direct comparisons without dash stretching!
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billthedrake · 4 months
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Note: This is a hypnosis story co-written with @josmith1718
THE PROTOCOL (CHAPTER TWO)
The next day, Dad and I had a lazy Saturday. I usually woke up early, but I slept like a log especially after dad's insatiable appetite after being under. I woke up and saw I was in bed alone. I stretched and made my way downstairs. I was wearing only boxer briefs when I came to the kitchen and saw dad making a whole breakfast spread, "Morning, bud. Can I get you anything to drink?"
"Morning dad, what time did you wake up?"
"I've been up for a while. Woke up so refreshed." He smiled and gave me a kiss before asking me again, "Drink?"
"Uh, I'll have some orange juice."
"Okay bud, sit down, I'll get it for you."
Dad was very happy this morning. He was wearing an old baseball tee and shorts that were being eaten by his ass. I was spent from last night but seeing the sex god in this kitchen making me breakfast was giving me a second wind.
"Here you go son. What do you say we have a nice cookout today? Weather should be good; we can put some steaks on the grill and have some beers."
"Sure dad, but you are in the sun all day, I thought you would want to spend some time in the A/C."
"Well, we could do something else if you want." He smirked as he saw my hardon.
I reached down and tugged at my loose shorts, playfully showing off my endowment to Dad, but also pinching the base a little bit to tame the beast.
"It'll probably be better if I wait." I said.
"Waiting isn't your strong suit, buddy," Dad smirked.
"Nah it isn't," I admitted. I was about to ask whose fault that was but I reflected at how great my father was. I was the luckiest guy in the world. "So... cookout?" I asked. I knew if we stayed in that kitchen, I'd be initiating sex. And last Saturday we didn't leave the house till after noon...
Dad went to get dressed to run his errands to the grocery store. I offered to hit the hardware store for charcoal and some other stuff we needed. Surprisingly, bagged ice is cheaper there, too, so Dad asked me to get a bag or two so we could set up the cooler for the beer.
I was in and out of the big box store pretty quick. I don't know if it was the hypnosis, but I was in a weird mood that morning. Almost giddy with excitement of seeing if Dad was gonna put out for me later, really put out. Maybe I had some misgivings, too. I mean, Dad had brought up the hypnosis route and found the Company, but maybe I was too excited by the idea of reprogramming my loving father.
As I tossed the stuff in the back seat and as I started the car, I wondered about maybe my approach with fucking Dad was wrong. Maybe it wasn't just mental. Hypnosis was one thing, but he would need to get used to having something in his hole.
I took a little detour home, to where one of the adult sex stores was. Hopefully the ice wouldn't melt too much. I'd only been to this store a couple of times, the first time when I turned 18 and a buddy dared me to go as some sort of stupid high school ritual. The other was soon after that, when I heard a rumor you could get a no-strings blowjob in one of the booths. I went in, but chickened out.
Now, I went in and made a beeline for the vibrators and butt plugs. I was not a small fry and Dad would need some practice, even if he was under when I used the toys on him.
I found a beginner sized dildo and picked up an enema bag. I looked for a smaller sized butt plug. Even the smallest looked like it might be a challenge for a newbie at bottoming, but I picked it up too. With a naughty thought I eyed one of the bigger plugs. It would take a hell of a lot of hypnosis to get my tight virgin father to fit that inside him. But the idea turned me on like mad so I bought it too.
I made my purchases and headed back home. Dad was already putting away the groceries in the kitchen, as I went upstairs with my toys and hid them until I needed them.
I'd barely stashed them in the back of my sweaters in the closet when Dad walked into our bedroom. "I'm gonna hit the gym, Kyle," he said, peeling off that baseball shirt. God, here comes my hardon again. But Dad seemed oblivious to that as he went to root through his drawer for his workout gear. "I'll fire up the grill when I get back, OK?"
"Yeah, Dad," I said.
He grabbed his stuff and then paused to look at me. Maybe he wasn't so oblivious to my excitement after all. With a grin he sauntered over and stepped up to me, leaning forward to kiss me gently. It was hot, a lot of soft tongue as Dad and I made out in our bedroom.
His free hand was on my flank, feeling up my muscle beneath my T-shirt. "Nice, son," he grinned. "I can tell you've been hitting the gym too, buddy," he smirked. I worked out during my lunch hour at a corporate gym near my office. I usually enjoyed taking Saturday off.
"Gotta keep up with my old man," I smirked back. I reached down to undo my shorts, but Dad stopped me.
"Save it, buddy... it'll be worth your while, I promise." With that, dad pulled my shorts up and gave me a parting kiss, “Try to keep your hand away from that dick.” He said as he left the room. I did not know it was possible but I was even harder at that comment.
***
The food smelled great as dad sat next to me to let the meat cook on the grill. He had continued to wear the same workout clothes except for the sweaty shirt. He was showing off a good pump, I'd say, his perky nipples saluted me and his calves looked exceptionally delectable. If I was not so hungry, I probably would have tackled him as soon as he walked through the door.
"So how do you feel about the hypnosis, son?" Dad asked as he took a sip of his beer and sat next to me.
"I was hesitant at first but if it makes you happy, Dad, I'm game but, how about you? Did you feel different when you were under?" I asked. I kept putting the old man under and never even thought of asking if it was enjoyable.
"Not just me, son. Remember what you told me, if we're both not into it, we don't have to do it." He held his gaze on mine, "But I will be honest, if it'll help us... me... I want it."
I nodded and smiled at him. He reached and patted my thigh before answering the second half of my question.
"And to answer your question, I didn't feel anything. It felt like I fell asleep and when I ‘woke up' I felt refreshed. I hope it can help me to be able to give you what you want but if not, it's helping me to feel relaxed at least."
"Did you remember what you did when the man from the Company put you under?"
"No. We were talking and then he was telling me we were done. Whatever I did, I don't think it was embarrassing but I did feel good afterwards."
We ate, we tanned, and we had some more beers. It was a nice relaxed way to spend the weekend. Dad worked hard and in my own white collar way, I worked hard too. It was nice to lie in the backyard and think about nothing.
I had my eyes closed and tried to keep everything out of my mind. I just heard the sizzling of the grill, dad whistling, the light chirping of the birds. Suddenly, I began to think about the hypnosis and started throwing wood. It was a hot idea, having my dad do anything I wanted, bend over, and let me rim him or ask me to fuck him as matter-of-factly as he did when providing me with his oral services. I was maybe hoping it was a one session kind of deal and then Dad would be lifting his legs for me. Yet, he'd put off sex, even more than normal. I wondered if he needed more reinforcement or if I needed to expedite the process.
The more I thought about it, the more I decided I'd put him under again and take dad back to the white hallway. As soon as we went inside, I was determined I'd be putting him under again. I wanted to get in his ass but didn't want to do it prematurely. As I went through the motions of helping him clean and put away things, I was formulating a script in my mind of what I was going to say and do. I had to think of the Protocol the Company provided, and how reinforcement could help tap into Dad's inner psyche.
"That was great." Dad said as we were putting away the last of the leftovers in containers. I admired his hairy frame now that he had gotten a tan on his chest and back. A shame he didn't go shirtless at work, I'm sure he'd get more contracts showing his body off and he'd had an overall tan.
"You are the grill master, dad."
"You flatter me buddy." Dad rubbed my shoulder, as he stepped by me. I watched him walk down the hall, and even as he was out of my sight, the sound of the door closing suggested to me he was taking a piss.
It seemed the perfect chance to catch him unaware. That approach seemed to work the first time and if he was easily put under then, it should be no issue now. I put the food away as quickly as I could and then I walked down the hall to wait outside the bathroom for him to come out. I heard the flushing of the toilet followed by the start of dad washing his hands and whistling as he cleaned up.
"Hey buddy... you gotta go...?" Dad began as he opened the door but at the sound of me saying “power down” he stopped mid-sentence. He went from animated to emotionless in one swoop. His face was drained of emotion, his arms fell to his sides, and he looked past me, as though there was a point behind me, he needed to concentrate on.
"How are you feeling?" I asked.
"Relaxed..." Was dad's monotone response.
"Remember what I told you about Kyle?"
Dad nodded and said "Yes..."
"Repeat to me what you learned about Kyle and what you need to do."
"Kyle does the fucking, to show him I love him, I have to let go and give him what he wants..." He responded. Once again, I smiled, "What does he want?"
"To fuck me." Dad responded, determined. As he finished his thought, I saw how he began to breathe a bit faster, and his cock began to swell up. The shorts he was wearing were flimsy and nothing hid what was happening down there.
"That's right. When this finally happens, you will give him happiness and he, in turn, will bring you pleasure. Your son will be happy, and you want to make your son happy right?"
"That's all I want, my boy to be happy." He was more determined with his response.
"Extend your hands and hold on to me, we are going back to the door in the white hallway." He extended his hands and I reached with mine. I held on, feeling the dampness on his skin.
"Walk with me as I count to five. Once I reach five, we'll be at the door."
"One... we're walking down the corridor," I slowly walked us to the bedroom where I had stashed the toys I would be needing, "Two... you are feeling relaxed and calm knowing your son will never cause you pain or hurt you," I passed a couple of framed pictures of us at a camping trip and from both of my graduations, "Three... you are closer to the door, remembering what you saw there, getting you excited..." At the threshold of the bedroom, I said, "Four... the door is at arm's reach, you want to open the door, right?"
"Yes, I want to open the door." Dad responded a bit breathlessly.
"Good... five, reach for the doorknob and open the door. What do you see?" I let go of his hand momentarily and saw him reach to the imaginary door to open it.
"I'm in bed with my boy... He is on top of me, getting ready to fuck me... My son looks happy..." Dad began to smile warmly as he saw the scene.
"He is very happy, but you can't bottom for him yet, why?" I caressed his hand.
"Men don't get fucked." Again, determined. I knew we would need to work on this now if we were going to get anywhere.
"Look at yourself, Brian. You are a man. Look at your muscles, your hairy torso, strong legs, are you not a man?"
"Yes, I'm a man."
"Keep looking at the scene in front of you, is your son inside you, fucking you, making you feel good?"
"God... yes, he is fucking me, making me feel pleasure." He tightened his grip on my hand and his breathing increased. He wanted to be able to give his boy this, the pleasure that he would experience was secondary at this point. All he wanted was to be a good daddy and take care of his boy's needs. He wanted what he saw.
"And as he is doing this... are you changing at all?" I asked, looking at dad's face to see if there was any resistance to what I was inferring.
Dad looked confused at this. I continued to caress his hand and pushed on, "Did you become less of a man?"
Again, confusion, his brow creased as he thought of it. I answered for him, "No you didn't. Look, Kyle is still fucking you, bringing you pleasure. He is fucking a man, not a woman. Say it, Kyle fucks men."
"Kyle fucks men..."
"Again, with conviction."
"Kyle fucks men." I moved his hand to my cock, and I moved my free hand to his, "Hold Kyle's cock and ask him who he fucks."
Dad looked at me as though trying to look through a fog and asked, "Who do you fuck?", his hand lightly gripping my cock like he did when he was ready to give me a handjob. I fished out his cock and began to match his grip and stroking motions as I answered.
"I fuck men, dad, not women, just men. Hairy, muscular, masculine men. Men that work construction, that have a tan from being in the sun working hard, muscles from moving heavy things all day." I said this as I stroked him.
"God, son..." he whispered to himself.
"Brian, who is getting fucked on the bed?" I asked, getting a thrill calling him by his name.
"I am..."
"Are you a man?"
"Yes..."
"So, say it, I'm a man that gets fucked."
Dad's voice was direct and unwavering. A pure expression of his unconscious. "Men don't get fucked."
Jesus Christ. Back to square one.
I let go of his dick and thought for a second. What would the Protocol suggest? I don't even remember where the idea came from, but I remembered something about triangulation. Shifting the focus. "Brian.... Listen carefully to my voice.”
Dad looked at me with unwavering concentration.
"You are past the white door now... where only my voice matters."
"Your voice."
I felt his grip on my cock get tighter, now playing with it, then stroking it. Fuck, this felt good.
"When you are awake, Brian, and you worry about not being a man, you can listen to my voice and it'll relax you, helping you let go for your son."
I spread my legs and let Dad openly stroke me. The more I talked the more eagerly he tugged at my dick. "You know what that voice will be telling you?"
He shook his head no. Like an eager student studying for a test. Aww God, his hand felt amazing. This man, even under, only had one mission and it was to bring me pleasure. I had to bite my lip and take a deep breath before I continued because I didn't want to shoot yet, I needed to see this through.
"That voice will be telling you that anytime you don't feel like a man, to think instead about Kyle. Your son—" God, Dad's hand was driving me crazy. I wasn't normally a hand job guy, but this head fuck was messing with mine in its own way. "—and how manly he is." I finished my train of thought in a raspy voice.
"Yes, Kyle is a man." Dad responded determined, proud even. The same way he would when bragging to his buddies about me for something.
"Good," I said. "And because Kyle is a man, you do not have to worry about yourself. Just listen to that voice...Dad." My breath was getting shorter. I reached out and began stroking Dad's cock as he did mine.
"What does that voice say, Dad?" I stopped calling him by his name and reverted back to ‘Dad.' I wanted him badly and calling him Brian, while naughty at first, was not as personable as ‘Dad.' The man raised me, taught me so much. Now it was my turn to return the favor, as it were, and teach him new things. Things that would bring him pleasure.
"That voice is saying Kyle is a man." He was sweating a bit, his nipples were perky and his cock throbbed in my hand.
"What do men do?"
"Men fuck.”
"What is going to help you be able to be your son's bottom daddy?” I was stroking dad hard, and he was too, we were both lost in the moment. I don't even know when it was the last time, I called dad ‘daddy' but I had just said it and if I was not in the edge of shooting, I was when dad responded.
"Listen to the voice... allow Kyle to make me his bottom daddy." The combination of seeing dad zonked out, his words and his hand on my cock, I shot my load, some of it landing on his hand and floor. Dad, in turn, shot all over my hand. Like father like son, both shooting our loads at the idea that I needed to fuck him, and he was going to allow me to.
We were both breathing hard and as we both caught our breath, I looked at dad and with some clarity instructed him to close the door. Dad used his free hand and simulated closing the imaginary door. I continued, "You are a man that gets fucked, keep that in mind. You still can't bottom for Kyle, but you want to, desperately. You want to get pleasure, you want to make Kyle happy, but you need to prepare for it. You will ask Kyle to help you. It'll be scary but put your trust in your son, he loves you, he is here for you, he is going to make sure everything you do for him, is returned with pleasure tenfold."
"I trust my son." No hesitation at all. That made me really happy that dad have trust in me.
"And he trusts you. He loves you very much." I kissed his cheek and felt the stubble, it was the weekend he hadn't shaved since Friday.
Dad smiled and continued to stroke my spent cock, bringing it back to life, "Once you come out of this state of relaxation, at some point tonight you will ask your son to help you. You will ask him what you need to do, what can you do to get ready. You will only feel pleasure once it happens. This pleasure will make you feel comfortable getting played with and fucked by your son, Kyle. Understood?"
"Yes... I want that... I want Kyle to play with me..."
"He wants to play with you too. Now, you are going to wake up when I count to three. When you wake, you will not realize you were under but will retain all instructions and suggestions. You will also not find it weird that we are here covered in cum. You will find it hot and want to shower off the remnants of it before we head downstairs, and watch T.V. Understood?"
"I understand."
"Good, let's wake up. One... Two... Three..."
Life came back to dad's eyes, and he smiled when he saw the mess we had made, "Shame I didn't get that load in my mouth but can't cry over spilled milk, right buddy?"
I smiled and he closed the gap and gave me a kiss, "Let's hit the showers, son." I nodded and followed him as he dragged me to the bathroom without letting go of my cock.
We showered, made out under the running water, and then saw a bit of T.V. before we called it a night. As we were getting ready for bed, dad looked at me intently, "I love you so much, buddy."
"I love you too dad." I smiled and threw a pillow at him. He caught it and then stroked it a bit, almost as if he was arming himself with courage.
"I really want to give you everything I can, son. I'm a man and I shouldn't be scared to ask for help so here it is.” He took a deep breath, “Help me."
"Dad, anything you need, you know I'm here for you." I responded. I sat on the edge of the bed and dad came to my side and sat next to me.
"I want to be your bottom and I need to know how to do that. I don't know if hypnosis will help but in case it does, I need to prepare myself... but I don't know what I should even do first." He sounded determined but innocent all at once. I bit my lip as he said that, damn, I was once again throwing wood.
I moved a bit, trying to hide what was growing between my legs and at first, I was not sure if dad noticed but he definitely did when he got up and used my name, "Come on Kyle, I need your help. Tell me what I need to do to prep for when I finally give it up." He sounded annoyed that I would choose his vulnerable moment to be a horndog.
"Sorry dad...” I grabbed a pillow and put it over my crotch, “You need to clean yourself out and then practice. It's not much to it. Here..." I got up, covering my crotch making dad more annoyed.
“Take the pillow off, I already know you're horny,” he growled softly.
I blushed and nodded and went to get the toys. I pretended to take a while to look for them as though they were there for a long time and brought out the enema bag, "Here you go dad, this is an enema bag, you use this to clean yourself out."
"So...I fill this with water and then..." He mimed it not wanting to say it, blushing as I nodded my head.
"I can help you if that would—"
"I'll do it alone buddy. We may shower together but I draw the line with you watching me shit out poop water."
"Alright, I'll be here dad. Take your time, it's not a race."
"How long do I do it for?" He asked as he walked towards the bathroom.
"Until the water you push out is clear."
Dad was gone for a while. My cock deflated as soon as he left. Dad's mere presence had that effect on me. He could be standing perfectly still and I'd want to jump his bones. As he cleaned himself, I ended up working on emails and getting them scheduled to be sent out Monday morning. I even folded some laundry as he stayed in the bathroom. I didn't hear much other than the occasional flushing. After a little over half an hour, I heard the toilet flush again and dad come back to the room as I was putting away some clothes.
"If we were to do the deed, I'd have to do that every time?" He was red and sweating. God only knows what he did in that bathroom, but I didn't think it would take that long.
"We can get a bidet and a proper douche, you know, to be cleaner down there." I smiled at dad.
"Fuck, buddy... I have never been in the bathroom this long ever but honestly, I never felt so clean." I couldn't deny my need to be with dad. I grabbed the folded clothes still on the bed and put them on the chair in the corner of the room and ran towards dad. He held me and we began to make out. He held me tight, his shirtless frame on my clothed one. He pulled the shirt off and I began to play with his hairy chest.
As the kisses became more needy, my hands began traveling slowly down towards his ass, something he would not let me do before. The man had his hangups and one of those things was not getting near his hole. I kissed, sucked, touched, caressed and loved every part of my dad's body but his ass... that was something I wanted to explore at length but never could.
"Son..." He began as my hand caressed his ass.
"Dad please, I won't go in, I just want to touch it." I said, going back to kissing him deeply. Dad moaned into my mouth and let me explore. Fuck, that furry ass was making me bone something bad. Dad slowly lowered my shorts and began to play with my cock, "Fat executive cock..." he hissed.
We were both enthralled by what we loved on each other's bodies. I scooted up in bed and let Dad suck my dick some. I had to urge him to go slow at times and finally pulled him off. I didn't want to cum in his mouth, though I could read Dad's desire to get off that way. He loved having my dick in his mouth and loved swallowing my cum.
I got back down so we were face to face, naked in bed together. But as I got on top of him, almost a classic missionary position, I felt Dad's body jerk and shiver beneath mine. Like he got a cold spell.
"You OK, Dad?" I asked.
He nodded, gulping. "Yeah, son... it's just... fuck!"
He got another shiver. I realized it was the hypnotic suggestion, giving him that excitement when I was on top of him. I humped his cock and we made out. Dad was moaning into my mouth and clutching at my back and then my arms. Pulling me in, wanting nothing more than my weight on top of his.
"You're such a fucking stud, son," he whispered as we finally broke that kiss and looked into each other's eyes. Dad was vulnerable and yet totally alive. Turned on. Fuck, this was gonna happen. Maybe I wouldn't even need the toys.
I kissed my way down, feeling my father shiver as I enjoyed the feel of his fur and his aged brawn. I went further, pushing Dad's legs back. That didn't get resistance but almost immediately his hand was on my head, stopping me.
"Can't son," he said. Not apologetic. Like, freaked out just from the fact I was gonna rim him.
Goddamnit.
"Power down," I said.
Dad's body relaxed, almost to the point of going limp. I even had to hold his legs in place, splayed back. I could see his squeaky clean pucker. Maybe this wasn't the Protocol, but I wasn't gonna waste a clean dad hole like this. Not after dreaming about it all day.
"When you were awake, how did you feel Brian?"
"Horny... then nervous."
"I understand... but, I'm going to share a secret with you that'll make the nerves fade away. You want that, right? You can speak freely”
“Yes, I don't want to be nervous for my boy.” I smiled. It must be hard for him. A man that has lived so long with this notion and wanting to get rid of it, knowing that it'll be a pleasure for him and his lover but unable to.
“Can you keep a secret?" I whispered, looking up from his hole. Damn, I wish I didn't have to do this right now. I was ready to rock his world. Nevertheless, I persisted.
"Yes." His voice was quiet, obedient, determined.
Damn, I was rock hard. This whole thing with dad recharged me in a way that I was ready to shoot again if dad helped me out. "You are a special man, Brian. Some men only have one pleasure spot. Their cocks. You have four."
"Four?" he said, a bit surprised with a hint of confusion.
"Yes, four. You've already found two. Your cock, and the back of your throat." I reached and caressed his cock a bit.
Dad's dick surged hard again when he felt my hand and my voice, the words and their meanings sinking in.
"You like when Kyle tickles the spot in your throat, don't you Brian?"
"I do," Dad answered.
"It's pure pleasure for you."
"Yes," he said.
I ran my fingers along his leg hair as I scooted in. Dropping my voice to an even more suggestive register, I continued, "You have a spot like that deep inside you, Brian. Deep in your ass."
His face grew questioning, but he nodded.
"So deep only your son can reach it. Kyle is the only man who has the key to unlock that spot for you."
"Kyle is a man." No hesitation.
Fuck, my cock just spurted some pre on to dad's furry belly.
"You know why he has that key?"
"Because Kyle loves me." His smile grew with his response. I loved this man.
"Yes, Kyle loves you and he wants you to feel that intense pleasure deep inside you."
"I am a lucky father."
"You are a lucky man, Brian. Because you have one more pleasure spot. Your asshole craves stimulation."
"Stimulation."
"You want Kyle to make that spot feel good, too."
"Yes."
We'd see if this works.
"Ok Brian, continue to listen to my voice. I am going to count to three. You will not realize you were under, but you will continue to follow all suggestions and instructions while you were in this state. Once you wake, you'll feel alive and happy and allow your boy do what he wants, you trust him. You want this. Understood?”
“I understand.”
“Let's wake up, handsome. One... two... three...”
Dad's body tensed beneath mine and he let out a breath. It took him a half second to refocus, but he smirked at me.
"You're hard as a rock, buddy," Without missing a beat he responded as though he hadn't been under.
I nodded. "You get me that way, Dad." I attacked his chest again with my lips then started the process of kissing lower. We'd see if this worked. I slowly got to his cock, kissing it before I went lower.
Dad was hesitant, I could feel his body stiffen but then I pulled his legs back again and he let me.
I saw my prize, that beautiful daddy hole winking at me, inviting me to love it. God, I wanted that more than anything, to show how good my tongue could feel in there... before something bigger went in.
"Son please..." He whispered. He knew it was going to happen and was nervous.
"I'm here dad, please trust me, let me make you feel good just like you make me feel good."
"I trust you son... I trust you completely." He bit his lip before reaching for his legs and raising them on his own.
"Aww fuck, dad..." I said and before he changed his mind, I dove into his ass and began to kiss it. I was in heaven, after so many years, I was rimming him, and it was amazing.
"My fucking God!" Dad cried. Unprepared for the sensations, he let out a moan and spread his legs wider. "Kyle! Buddy!"
"Yeah? Like your son eating this ass?" I asked as I pulled back to look up his furry beef and into his handsome face.
"I think so..." He opened his eyes, then watched as I dipped back in again to lick his entrance. "Yeah... that's it.... I love it, son. Keep going, eat your dad's ass, buddy."
"Thank you, dad, thank you," I muttered into his hole. I responded enthusiastically and began to really eat him out. Dad was moaning, his nipples were hard, his cock throbbing. The man had denied himself this feeling for too long, and I was happy and lucky to be the one giving him this pleasure.
"Eat me out, son, God your tongue is slithering in there." He was now bucking his hole against my face, almost riding my mouth. I still didn't know how much of this was the hypnotic suggestion or his body naturally feeling good from my hitting his spot but either way, I was not going to question it. Right now, I was going to enjoy myself and really give dad the full experience.
I moaned and nodded, really pushing my tongue into that nice, clean hole, wiggling it around before retreating to tease the pucker.
"My executive stud," Dad grunted, "Showing his dad how good it is to have him playing with his ass."
‘His ass,' fuck that made me double my efforts before I reached for his cock and began to play with it.
"Yeah buddy, play with it, that ass is yours, all yours stud. Fuck, you got me so hard, son." Goddamn, my father was contracting his abs and thrusting that vulnerable cherry hole up against my munching mouth. This was out of control in the best way.
Thank you, Tech Bro, I was getting everything I ever wanted. Never would Dad have let me do this before, and now he was encouraging me to play with his amazing dad hole. This guy at the Company knew what he was doing, and Dad and I were proof of it. I would recommend the service to however many people I could and leave a great Google review.
My man was now a moaning mess, sweating profusely, his nipples hard, his cock dripping precum, I wanted to concentrate on his pleasure and not mine. My cock would explode in my shorts for all I care if it meant that dad would love this enough to let me play in there whenever I wanted.
I pushed my tongue deeper in there as I felt his hole begin to open and suck on my tongue.
"I'm on the edge, buddy... ready to cum for my executive stud... shoot for my boy..." That was hot, I got off his ass and crawled until I was on top of him, "I love you dad, so damn much."
"I want to shoot my load for you, I want to give you my load, buddy."
"Shoot for your son, dad, shoot for your man." I kissed him again. He didn't object to tasting my lips fresh from his ass. I slipped Dad some tongue before pulling back. I wanted to rim him more.
Going back to his ass, I doubled my efforts, just as my hand gripped his cock as I began to stroke him.
"Give me that load, dad, shoot for your stud, show him what a good dad you are."
"Fuck son, fuck, fuck, eat me out.... You're working my spot, son," Dad grunted.
I nodded and increased the speed of my strokes. A combination of my tongue work and my hand on his cock, Dad moaned and then I felt his cock expand and shoot his load. I continued to stroke until I felt dad's hand on mine.
"Fuck, son...fuck..." He was shaking. I kissed his ass one last time before I let him lower his legs. Scooting up, I lay next to him, my cock hard as steel. We were both catching our breath. Dad had his arm over his eyes, like he was recovering from a marathon.
"Fuck..."
"How do you feel dad?" I asked as I laid my hand on his chest. His hairy chest was damp from the sweat, and I could feel his heart beating hard.
"Damn..." He responded before he laughed, "That was... amazing. So intense, I never... All I can say is.... fuck..."
I smiled and grabbed his head. He lifted his arm and looked at me, "Was it everything you hoped for?" He asked in a sultry voice.
"And more, dad, c'mere." He smiled and we kissed. We stayed kissing until he realized I had not shot, "You didn't cum?" He asked concerned.
"This was about your pleasure dad." I responded honestly.
"I'm such a lucky bastard. Let's get in the shower, son, I'll take care of you there."
***
Before bed, I pulled out the dildo I'd purchased.
"What's this?" He asked, chuckling, nervous as he saw me bring the thing out of the packaging.
"You washed yourself, now, we need to train your ass to get used to having something up there."
I was undeterred and I looked at him before saying, "Trust me, dad."
He bit his lip and nodded, "How do you want me?"
It was difficult but after rimming him again, to calm his nerves though it was more for me, I lubed him up and ran the dildo along his ass lips.
"Oh!" he grunted. I grinned and gave him a determined look as I ran the toy over his sensitive spot. The more I ran it over his ring, the more he seemed into it, and I watched him get a boner again. I took the cue to push it in. It wasn't too big, but it was enough.
"Easy son, I'm cherry back there." He urged, reaching down to grip my forearm. Dad has a strong grip.
I nodded and concentrated on just the inner part of his sphincter, eventually working an inch in and out, giving my old man time to get used to it. All in all, we both worked to get this next step completed. A compromise between my desire to see Dad penetrated and his desire to focus on the pleasures in his anus itself. We would both get a good night's sleep after our efforts this evening.
I was getting hard, and I stroked my cock in one hand while I used the other to diddle his hole.
Dad let out a grunt and another inch of that fake cock slid inside him. The suddenness tripped my wires.
"Fuck!" I gasped as a load shot out. Since Dad had sucked me off an hour before, it wasn't the heaviest cum, but it was bigger than I expected.
I thanked him with a kiss and pulled out the dildo, laying it on the nightstand.
"That was incredible, Dad," I muttered as he pulled my body to his, “I'm glad bud... and it was good for me too.” We fell asleep soon after, dad holding me in his arms.
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turvi · 10 months
Note
id like to request an older!remus x wife involving them waking up together on a rainy Saturday morning 🥹
Ayee thank you so much for this request I hope you enjoy this.
Remus was up before Y/n, enjoying the sound of the rain pattering against the roof and the feel of the cold wind. He loved it when the sky wasn't too dark. And the rain wasn't too heavy.
He saw Y/n sleeping peacefully by his side. She looked so beautiful, but Remus wanted to share this peaceful moment with her. So he woke her up in the most chaotic way.
Remus blew raspberries on her shoulder. He smirked when he heard her groan. When they had first started dating 10 years ago, he would wake her up like a gentleman would. With sweet kisses. Now Remus couldn't help but be annoying to her after they had spent so many years together.
"I'm up...I'm up." Y/n's voice croaked. She opened her eyes to see Remus smirking.
"Morning dove, look, it's raining."
Y/n looked at him in disbelief. "You woke me up to see rain?"
"Yeah, look, it's such pleasant weather. I want to enjoy it with my wife." Remus said, kissing her neck and shoulders, knowing she would melt.
His breath tickled her neck, and she was no longer groggy and pissed. Y/n let Remus tug her closer to him. His stubble pricked against her skin. She gasped. "Growing a beard Mr Lupin?"
Remus smirked and ran his hand across his stubble. "Well, you did say beard might look nice on me, Mrs Lupin."
Y/n leaned in and whispered in his ear. "Are you trying to seduce me?"
She gasped when he pushed her back gently and got on top of her, his nose touching hers. "Maybe I am. What will you do about that, Mrs Lupin?" He loved calling her that. A part of him still couldn't believe this was real. That she chose to spend her life with him.
"Remus, we will get late if you don't stop." she giggled as he continued to kiss her neck and collarbone.
"Just 15 more minutes."' He mumbled against her skin.
..............................................
2 hours later, the couple held each other as they regained their breath. Y/n lightly smacked Remus' arm, which made him jolt. "You said 15 minutes."
Remus smirked at her breathless sight and shrugged. "oops. Let me make it up to you. How about round 2?"
Y/n scoffed and hit him with a spare pillow. In reality, she was just glad to see Remus happy and healthy. The war had taken a nasty toll on him, and Voldemort was growing in power and she was worried whether she and Remus would be able to see each other again or not.
This led them to get married while the war was going on because if their life was ending now, at least they spent it together, in each other's arms.
Y/n thanked the stars that she could see his bright smile again, hear him laugh, trace his scars, and let him know she loved him in this life and the next.
She wanted nothing else, but to be his forever, and Remus needed nothing else but her to be his side.
Remus was so thankful for her that he kissed her again, the kind of kiss you feel in every essence of your living, the kind of kiss that reminds them that it's over and they have each other again.
He leaned back. "Stay here. Let me make you breakfast." Remus didn't move until he drew circles on her hip and cheek, feeling her skin and taking a deep breath his heart reminding his mind she is here.
Y/n smiled "ok...but I will make tea. You add too much sugar."
Remus chuckled as she followed him to the kitchen, quickly preparing their breakfast to enjoy it in each other's presence.
A/N: I hope you like this. REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED
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0rah-s · 1 year
Note
Hii I have a request to make!!
You do magi right?
I want a jealous judar x reader who is obvious
And the reason judar is jealous is because someone is flirting with reader
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Jealous!Judar x reader
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A/n : thank you for requesting! You have no idea how exited i was when i saw that you wanted a magi fanfic! Feel free to request again anytime soon mwah!
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It was a saturday morning and you woke up fresher than ever, unlike the human rag sat beside you at the dinner table. You were finishing your breakfast and were getting ready to go out grocery shopping hoping to get some fresh fruits.
You were now in the bathroom fixing last details as your grumpy boyfriend came from behind you, laced his arms around your waist and rested his head in the croock of your neck - peppering it with kisses in the hope to sway you into getting back in bed, "was there really a need to wake up this early for grocery? I could just ask those useless royals to get your stuff" he grunted. You smiled wondering how you've not yet gotten tired of his daily antics? "I don't want to lose my habits and get over-dependent on your acquaintances dear". You turned around to reciprocate the hug, hopefully temporarily satisfying his clinginess.
Flash forward, the both of you are at the market. Smells of spices, perfumes and nectars are brought all around you by the wind of the kou empire. Being close to the sea ment that you could hear the waves crashing the shore and the boats ariving closer to the docs - the sensory experience making waking up early all worth it.
Bored out of his mind, Judar stood in a corner as you were bargaining with a marchent for a fairer price of sindrian canddles (you might have been carried away from the main objective of this outing again). Then suddenly, as swiftly as the wind, someone gives money to the marchent "who would dare to make such a fine person pay on this beautiful day" the stranger said.
He had looks above average and had was quite tall, probably the popular type, you would be lying if you denied you found him attractive. A soft smile never leaving his face he turns back to you inching closer "please let this be on me, and perhaps a drink ?".
Took by surprise you try to decline his kind offer "please keep your money, I can't accept." You gave a bow. For the worst, this interaction did not go unnoticed by judar, he marched while the poorly hid scowl on his face could have created a storm.
"Taken." Is all he said. His hand griped your waist twice harder than this morning and more than his love - you felt his possessiveness. With his free hands he shoves some of his money back to the man. The marchent had already fled to the back with the money the stranger had given him while waiting for the argument to difuse.
"Umm..." Stuck between two men, you couldn't help but get flustered - something that Judar did not like.
You're his to gaze at, his to kiss and admire, his to worship . You are only his.
You hurriedly gathered you belongings "Haha...well as much as i appreciate we have places to be at bye!!" An awkard laugh escapes as you push judar away.
The both of you are quickly teleported to your living room. Before you can try to appease your frowning partner he holds you by the wrist and wordlessly take you to your shared bedroom. He takes off your coat and shoes for you while mumbling curses at the unfortunate stranger.
"Judar...are you alright my love?" He rose at your words and embraced you, you both fell on the bed due to the sudden shift in weight.
One, two, three, four, you stoped counting the amount of time his lips met your skin.
By cyclical irony, he found himself here he started his day - cuddled up with you with his head hid in your collar. With some effort you moved the both of you underneath the blanket and stroked his hair, if you payed close attention you could hear him mutter 'mine' and words alike.
"I'm yours as you are mine, I won't let go of you"
The certain and confidant way these words rolled off of your tounge must have given him the comfort he needed to fall back asleep with one last kiss to your lips.
"Rest well "
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otdiaftg · 6 months
Text
Andrew makes a decision.
"Let's all go," Neil said. "Aaron will agree for Nicky's sake and Nicky can see if his parents have come around. There's no way you'll let Kevin that far out of your sights, so take him with you. I'll tag along so you can harass me instead of Luther. Imagine how uncomfortable Nicky's parents will be if they have to contend with the five of us." "Or we could stay here." "Not as interesting," Neil said. "Appealing to my nonexistent attention span is a cheap trick," Andrew said. "But is it effective?" "You wish it was." "Please?" "I hate that word." "Does your shrink know you have a grudge against half of the English language?" Neil asked, but Andrew only grinned. "I know you can't understand this because you've never had a real family, but Nicky has to give his parents another try. If you're lucky this dinner will be the breaking point. Nicky's got his hopes up thinking his mother's come around. If she lets him down again he might be ready to walk away for good." Andrew hummed tunelessly as he thought. The longer he was silent, the surer Neil was that he'd failed. Finally Andrew reached for him again. This time he hooked his fingers in Neil's shirt collar instead of going for his throat. "One last chance," he said. "That's all I'm going to give Nicky. But I won't spend Thanksgiving with them, and I won't play nice. Get Nicky to change the date and get your invitation. Okay?" "Okay," Neil said. "We're all going to regret this." Andrew let go of Neil with a smile. "Nicky most of all if his father winds up dead."
Day: Saturday, November 4th Time: 12:25 PM EST
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rodeo-clowns · 11 months
Note
heyy, I just wanted to request a Rachel green x fem r. Maybe r is sick and Rachel takes care of her or something like that pls.
Thank youuu
Fade Into You: Rachel Green
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A/N: Thanks for requesting! This is something I intended to write really quick around New Years but I got caught up in trying to graduate lmao! Kinda felt motivated to complete this bc I just finished fighting a cold and I wish I could relate to reader rn lmao. I hope you enjoy! Again, sorry for the long wait.
Word Count: 854 words.
Warnings: None, just fluff and a kiss.
It was a regular Saturday morning in New York. The sounds of people starting their days flooded the streets. You were sleeping in your light purple sheets when you awoke to the sound of an ambulance driving by. It was then you realized that you slept with your mouth wide open. Crap. You were officially sick. You had felt a sore throat coming the previous day but hoped that it was just from yelling too much at Monica's tv screen from your girls' movie night two days prior. Unfortunately for you, your nose was stuffed up and your throat was now aching like crazy. Just then, your phone started to ring from the other room.
Rolling off the bed, you took your sheets with you and shuffled into the living room as fast as you could without either passing out or throwing up. When you managed to reach the phone, you answered with a nasally "Hello?"
"Good morning, why do you sound like that?" It was Rachel, your girlfriend of six months. You'd forgotten that you made plans to get breakfast together.
"Oh, I'm sorry Rach I woke up this morning feeling like a truck hit me. Do you mind if we reschedule? I'm so sorry." You said, winded from having to talk so much
“No no of course don’t worry about it. Hey! I have an idea!” She exclaimed. You weakly grunted in response. “How about I come over and take care of you?” She says, clearly ecstatic over the idea.
“Really,” you weakly replied, “you’d do that for me?”
“Uh Duh! I’ll be over there in a second don’t you even worry. Just…lay back and i’ll be there!” She says, sounding kind of rushed and worried.
“Uh okay, thanks Rach, it means a lot.” You reply.
“Anytime.” She says before hanging up. After that, you can’t fight sleep any longer before passing out, head buried in your comfortable pillows. When you later opened your eyes after what felt like a very deep sleep you could head your bedroom door opening.
“Heyy,” it was Rachel, and she seemed to be holding a tray with a bowl of what smelt like chicken noodle soup.
“Rach?” you responded groggily, attempting to sit up.
“Shhh Shhhh yes it’s me, don’t move too much we don’t want you puking now do we!” she says, slightly scolding you but in a joking manner.
“Ok ok, is that chicken noodle soup?”
“Yes, yes I got Monica to speed make some for you on my way here,” she laughs while sitting by your side, placing the tray on your lap.
“You didn’t have to, really,” you say, picking up the spoon placed delicately on a napkin with flowers on it.
“Nonsense! What kind of girlfriend would I be if I just let you suffer?” She replied with a bright smile. After that you simply let her take care of you for the rest of the day. You could get used to being pampered by your Rachel. After all, there's no one quite like Rachel Green and her devotion.
By the end of the day, Rachel had made sure you had eaten enough, stayed hydrated, drank enough fluids and ensured you were never cold with lots and lots of cuddles (although you warned her against it, fearing she might get sick as well). By 11:00 P.M., you felt your fever break as you lay your head on her lap whilst she detangled your hair.
"Rach?" you said, eyes closed.
"Yes?"
"Thank you." you said, finally opening your eyes. She looked cute focusing on your hair before making eye contact with your fluttering eyes. "Seriously, I appreciate it, no one's ever done something like this for me before."
"Well, that's just what you do for the people you love." She said with a smile, her focus going back to your hair, now beginning to braid it. You smiled back at her, slightly lifting your head.
"Rach..."
"hmm?"
"Did you just admit you love me?" You said with a cheeky grin, your eyes fully focused on her. She quickly turned a bright red before removing her hands from your hair and covering her mouth with them.
"Oh my god!" She said. She was clearly embarrassed. Her hands now fully covered her face.
"Rach..." You said, now moving to kneel in front of her. "Rach." You said again, moving her hands away from her face. You gently cradle her face in your hands, stroking her left cheek with your thumb. "I love you too."
"Really?" She said, still embarrassed. You smiled at her.
"Really," you whisper before leaning in and locking your lips with hers. Afterwards, Rachel ended up spending the night in your apartment, cuddled with you as the two of you watched Days of Our Lives, laughing at Dr. Drake Ramoray's bizarre return before the two of you fell asleep. The next morning, you awoke to Rachel sneezing three times in a row before sniffling. It seems that the two of you have a long day ahead of you, but that was okay now that you knew your love was fully mutual.
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xieyaohuan · 11 months
Text
Homelander's penthouse: the obsessive analysis nobody asked for, part 1
After having overlooked something as fundamental as the door to his "balcony"/launch pad, I decided to spend part of my Saturday reconstructing Homelander's very, very ugly penthouse. Let's start with a numbered list of individual components. No, there is absolutely no logic to my numbering system.
Big nine-panel TV screen, as seen here:
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And here, behind The Deep:
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2. Entrance area: Homelander has no door that we know of - people can just enter. The entrance area is to the right of the big TV screen. You can see it clearly behind Ashley in the first image above, vaguely in the second image with The Deep, and also here where the guy bringing the food is coming from:
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3. Weird platform/mini staircase leading to an unknown room. It's opposite the entrance area, and we can see it here:
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4. Bookshelf (looks purely decorative)
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5. Ugly ass big brown couch where he sulks naked (plus small table in front of it)
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6. His bed! Yes, I believe we actually get a glimpse of it in Season 3, and it is inside the big room, not upstairs or behind the flag door. This man honestly has zero privacy. More on this later; for now, a screenshot (S3E7):
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7. Portrait of George Washington (hanging over Stormfront's bed in S3)
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8. Weird fur thing in front of his fireplace
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The mirror we see in this screenshot is probably one of the two by the side of his bed, more on this later. Also, the reflection is completely off and was probably added post-production??
9a: male lamp statue (with female lamp statue and Sisyphos 🎉🎉🎉 in the background)
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9b: female lamp statue
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Let's take a minute to look at some of this stuff in perspective; the screenshot is from Season 3, Episode 7 when Homelander has a meltdown while watching Starlight on his big screen (right before he goes off on a rant about her at the Bob Singer rally):
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10. The door inside the flag on his wall (leading to an unknown room we have probably never seen canonically, unless it leads to something like the meeting room on 99)
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11. The door to Homelander's "balcony" (how did we all miss it?? No clue. But we know of it now!)
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12. The winding staircase going upstairs to an unknown area we have probably never seen in canon
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13. The giant ass flag on HL's wall
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(Yes, I'm just looking for excuses to post this screenshot again)
14. The big mirror we see in the beginning of the Mirrorlander scene. It is probably by the side of his bed, opposite another equally big mirror (basically, he's got mirrors to the right and left of his bed, and on the ceiling, way to go, little star):
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The perspective of the reflection that we see in the big mirror onscreen makes absolutely no sense though, so again, it was probably added post-production?
15. Stormfront's bed in the corner by the window underneath the George Washington portrait and opposite the Mirrorlander mirror:
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(She can - technically - see his bed, and he can see hers; if that's not clear now, it'll hopefully become clear later)
16. The fireplace (no clue if real fireplace or just a mock-up; the distinction is probably irrelevant to HL). You can see it here behind the ugly fur thingy:
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17. The Mirrorlander mirror:
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Okay, time to look at some of the stuff in context again; don't worry about the numbers that haven't been introduced yet
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18. The female statue that gets moved around a bit from episode to episode. You can see it in the picture above, and also here and here to the left and right of the pillar and wall that has the Mirrorlander mirror:
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19. Second TV screen that HL put up so Stormfront could watch TV. Awkwardly, it was placed riiight in front of the Mirrorlander mirror - no wonder Mirrorlander hates anyone HL might love in real life; he gets displaced.
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In context:
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In context again, labelled:
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This is where shit gets interesting because on the left-hand side of the image, we can probably see HL's "bedroom"
20. Bedside table, close-up:
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It's probably time to finally address this bed business, since I've been going on and on about it. I don't consider it 100% confirmed, but two of the paintings shown in his bedroom are clearly recognizable in the screenshot from the scene with Stormfront, see the comparison below:
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They clearly added more stuff in the scene with Stormfront that is not in the still, but I'm still pretty certain that's his bedroom we see in on the left-hand side in S3E1. And again, we also get a glimpse of his bed in S3E7, and it does look like the bed in the still above:
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Plus the whole "mirrors on three sides of his bed" is just a very HL thing to do. Anyway, let me know if you're convinced. I think I am.
Anyway, I have more analysis to add, BUT tumblr is reminding me I can only add 30 images to each post, so I guess I'll have to stop here and continue in Part 2.
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pandorascripts · 1 year
Note
Can we have more 241 wednesday and reader? i'm just in love with your writing and with this history <3
241 III
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summary: cute stuff, also I'm sick of winter so this is a time skip into spring.
pairing: wednesday x gn!reader (could be read as fem)
note: i suggest you read at least 241 part II, I was also listening to Violent by benches and Where'd All the Time Go? by Dr. Dog when writing.
big note: I've decided to fight fire with fire, so I will now be putting my Wednesday fanfics in any and all tyler galpin and xavier thrope tags until people learn how to tag fics right.
part I, part II
What are we?
What are we?
What are we?
What are we?
You gritted your teeth together, hating how the question sounded so stupid. You shouldn’t have had to ask Wednesday what the two of you were, it should’ve been simple, really. You should just know. But you don’t, which is why on a Saturday walk in Jericho with Wednesday, you were anxiously biting your lip. The hand that wasn’t holding hers was stuffed in your pocket, chipping away at your nail polish. 
“You’re anxious, why is that?” Wednesday asked, turning her head up to you. 
You watched the rock you’d kicked seconds earlier skid and jumped across the uneven road.
“Dunno.”
Wednesday stopped in her tracks, not really minding the cool spring breeze. 
“Two months ago I made a promise. Do you remember what it conveyed?”
“Tears.”
Wednesday squeezed your hand sharply, lending you a warning look. “No, I promised I would not lie, and in turn I believe you agreed too.”
You nodded, looking down to your sneakers. 
“So, I won’t make you tell me, but I do hope you know that I want to listen. When you’re ready.”
With that, Wednesday continued walking again, you trailing closely behind her. The sounds of Wednesday’s boots hitting the ground were heavy, a juxtaposition to yours, which were softer and much lighter. You wondered if she walked heavily because Wednesday often said she’s got the responsibility of three blundering idiots on her shoulders. You failed to mention that she’s too small to cary Eugene, Enid, and you on herself. 
The walk turned silent once again, a peaceful silence. You fished out something from your pocket, sliding one in your ear as you handed the other to Wednesday. She accepted it, a light smile coating her lips. Another part of Wednesday’s apology. Since she liked to repress her emotions, which caused a lot of problems, she’d suggested the idea that she be more open, and allow emotions to show. 
“Thank you.”
“Mhm,” you mumbled, scrolling through a playlist you’d made. Recently, you found out that Indie Rock was a genre Wednesday didn’t mind, so you clicked on a playlist you made previously, letting it shuffle through and selecting a song. 
Arctic Monekys, you thought, nice. 
Wednesday’s finger tips lightly bounced off your hand, going to the beat. You smiled, looking up to the sky. Green was restoring itself to the bare trees, the sky was happily blue with clouds dusting over gracefully. The wind brushed against your ears making you shiver occasionally, but you didn‘t mind. In a way, you felt like spring represented your relationship with Wednesday. In a since that you two were too welcoming old friends, feelings, and allowing them to grow and take root. Your future was, if everything continued like this, peaceful as the sky, with little disruption. The song changed to one you quite liked. It was on the slower side, and so you unconsciously slowed your walk down, breathing in thick air. Under you, your foot sloshed in a puddle created the previous day from the melting snow.
Wednesday tugged on your hand, grabbing the other and setting it on her waist. You smiled, not trying to hide your confusion. Wednesday linked her arms around your shoulder, and started swaying. Your chest felt like it might explode, your heart rapidly beating as you swayed too. 
Wednesday rested her head on your shoulder as her arms slid down to hold your biceps. “I’m sorry, you just seemed so… at peace,” she whispered. 
You grinned, also burying your head in her shoulder. As Wednesday turned to her left, you turned to your left, still swaying with the song. A shaky exhale left your lips as you sighed. Your body felt heavy as Wednesday guided you, your feet sometimes hitting hers. If she minded, she didn’t say anything. Even as the song changed, you two still stayed there, swaying in the breeze like the leaves blossoming on the trees. 
“What’re we?”
Contrary to what you were thinking, Wednesday simply continued swaying, not bothering to stop this moment. 
“I don’t know, but what I do know is that it’s up to you. I was foolish, and now I’d like to be yours again, only yours.”
You nodded into her shoulder, adjusting your grip on her so it was more of a hug. 
“I want that too,” you mumbled, sighing contently. 
Wednesday and your’s relationship was spring, it experienced droughts and tough parts, experienced rain, and muck, but most importantly, it gave joy and peacefulness. It made both of you happy as you started anew, greeting old feelings and memories, but also making room for new beginnings. You truly believed spring to be your favorite part of the year, and as you stood dancing with Wednesday under half-green trees, you felt at home.
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rocketturtle4 · 9 months
Text
Be My Favourite Ep 12 quick take
So I've been awake for less than 1.5 hours lol and it's saturday morning and I slept poorly (too much anticiaption), I have been tagged in a bunch of posts that I'm looking forward to reading. Aquick looks suggest most people are feeling over all positive and I am planning to read it all and post proper thoughts about this show and how I felt but right now...
I AM BLISSFULLY HAPPY
did this show go where I had expected? Nope
did this show revisit the themes I thought it might? Nope
did we find out about the mechanism behind the crystal ball or Loooong Crystal Ball dude? Nope
Will I probably have some things to say about the themes of the show and the winding path and changing emphasis...probably, though I do feel like the philosphical themes of consciousness and focusing on what you can control have definitely been discussed at length (@waitmyturtles) and I actually plan to go back through my notes and examine the different ways my expectations evolved through the show.
but right now I'm too busy feeling warm and fuzzy all over
That was lovely, and it didn't feel unearned or rushed or unsatisfying.
Piseang returned to the past, Kawi IMMEDIATELY Realised something was up (The only thing I did get correct lol) and Piseang admitted it pretty quick. They sat down and TALKED about what was going on and Piseang got to be uncertain while Kawi got to be solid. @twig-tea
Double chracter growth and a switch of protagonists! @stuffnonsenseandotherthings
we got to re-live the awkward day at the theme park, now as a day where they both got to have fun, in my opinion because there were no longer expectations. (Like I said I haven't read things in depth yet my brain just wont focus but I did see som excellent thoughts about this from @grapejuicegay). Kawi is not being cajoled or pushed, Piseang is busy being uncertain and so Kawi takes his hand and steps up so they can be brave together
(I also think the easing in with other rides may have helped lol)
(also the fact that he tried the roller coaster and didn't like it feels...something)
They decide together that Piseang will jump forward
Something something overlapping timelines and the duality of consciousness through that original montage of getting to the future I have THOUGHTS they just aren't really coherent yet
(@grapejuicegay again pretty sure has already posited interesting thoughts on this)
ALSO I loved that we started the epiosde with more Krist commentary and an understanding of why Kawi chose not to be a famous muscian but a song writer instead.
And then BLISS
Kawi is alive, he and Piseang continue their lives together in the future. We get narration @pandasmagorica mentioned in their quick thoughts about how we always should have known Kawi wouldn't die because he's been narrating, very obvious in hindsight lol.
And a beautiful beach ending + Super sweet flashback
Gah
I'm just going to bask in this all day (i'm a simple person okay?)
I will properly read everyone's posts, please keep tagging me in any new stuff. I think it will be a few days before I get my end of show review organised but I will be doing one.
@dribs-and-drabbles @thegalwhorants @lurkingshan
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lightbluuestars · 8 months
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if Peemo got to be your boyfriend husband for the week, how would you spend it?
A WEEK?!! AN ENTIRE WEEK?!! oh my god i'd simply pass away (of love and happiness)
how should i put this, hm? just a day with this man would be enough!! (until it ends, then i'm empty for the rest of my life)
seven whole days of love and affection and appreciation for one another, oh my god
sunday would be particularly cozy, spending the day inside and just lovin on each other. hugs, kisses, cuddles, fueling each other for the week ahead. he'd have a ghoul tend to his plants, just for that day. preferably an earth ghoul, please.
monday would be kind of busy, having duties to attend to around the abbey and whatnot. inviting me out to his gardens and greeting me with an affectionate hug along with a sweet kiss. he'd show me around his gardens, pointing out specific plants and flowers he liked or thought i would like. the day ends with dinner and reading together in bed. i'd show him the pictures in my books, fascinated. (wwii books, i like them a lot, very interesting)
tuesday would come, and every morning is almost the same. waking up together, showering (depends on what mood we're in, together or alone), dressing, and leaving each other once again to preform our duties in the abbey. occasionally, i'd help him with his paints, but i don't often because i joke i don't trust myself with that kind of job. i simply cannot focus enough for that. this time, i invite him to have lunch with me, and we talk about what we had done earlier in the day, and what we will do. depending on our moods, we might spend the night in bed together pleasing one another, or we might stay outside and look at the stars. he likes to watch the stars, and points out constellations in the sky for me to look at.
wednesday arrives, and the morning is a free one. we shower together, and i attempt to apply his paints but fail miserably and end up a heap of laughter on the floor. he fixes his paints, taps my nose, and then we have breakfast. he brews some of his own tea, and i happily join him in sitting outside and enjoy the morning sun. we spend most of the morning outside, and he watches as i fashion flower crowns out of the clovers in the grass. (with his permission, of course.) i place one on his head, and one on mine. he smiles, and admires the crown i had made for him. the day ends with a nice bath (together, obviously) and doing our own thing before bed. he might finish up some paperwork, and i might end up drawing. a good day.
thursday is here, and he is gone when i wake up. turns out, he was needed somewhere, and left me alone. (sad, i know) i continue on with the day, barely even seeing him. i end up coming back and jumping his bones, and the entire night is spent together, making up for the lost time from the day.
friday, finally, and he's stuck in bed with a bad back. courtesy of last night's events. i take the day off, reassure him that his garden will be fine, because i asked a trusted earth ghoul to care for the garden. i care for him the whole day, brewing him tea and massaging his back. i draw a bath for him, with epsom salts, and leave him be for a while. after he's back in bed, i give him some painkillers and kiss his forehead, telling him to get some sleep. i stay up for a while longer, before retreating to bed and falling asleep next to him.
on saturday, his back is better and he can get back outside again. this time, he goes without the paints. it's a saturday, he can relax. he takes his time out in the garden, and will happily accept my help once i'm out there with him. i had brought him some tea and scones, and we enjoyed the morning together. the afternoon was spent in near silence, just existing together. the occasional turn of a page or the flutter of the curtains in the wind disrupted the silence, but it was well welcomed. we were happy together. the day ends curled around each other in bed, whispering words of affection until we drift off to sleep.
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fountainpenguin · 5 months
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“'I'm doing this all for me!?' ... Dare say that about our love, and mister, I'll have to do away with you...” (x)
---
... 7 years ago, I put this chapter preview image in my queue and it's been there ever since. It's this plot point that the entire 130 Prompts project was built around.
We've made it.
---
New 130 Reasons Why I'm Fairy Trash update today!
Fairly OddParents || One-Shot - “Grudge”
Read on FFN || Read on AO3
Find more Purple Train story arc HERE
End Arc 2
---
Happy Peppy Gary (the teenage boy who used to rule the world) and Denzel Crocker (the school teacher who's spent years fighting to do the same) finally meet for a business proposition. It is raining.
... Where is the portal to Fairy World?
(First 1000 words under the cut)
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21. Grudge
Saturday July 13th, 2002
Year of Leaves; Summer of the Last Berry
---
5 minutes after signing the Learnatorium off to Ed Leadly…
Passing by Dimmsdale Elementary leaves him feeling… giddy. Gary clutches his backpack by the shoulder straps, taking in the sight of empty swings squeaking in the wind. They stand like giraffes drinking from the savannah watering hole near the lonely see-saws and jungle gym. It's empty here. Dreary and chilly in the wind, even for a summer evening. And, like… There is something wild, beautiful, and free in witnessing this little slip between horror and peace. It's like peeling back a corner of yellow wallpaper to reveal life and color on the other side..
These days, Gary rarely has a reason to walk by the school. His apartment's in the other direction, closer to the downtown area (Right next to Alden Bitterroot's well). But there was once a time he walked to school five days a week, and five days back the other direction (unless Mr. Sanderson in a rare show of mercy pinged them safely home).
Years ago, back when he was only ten, he used to play on this same old equipment. The school has upgraded to a new slide (with a playful rock wall), but everything still feels so familiar. He could probably run across the playground with his eyes squeezed shut and still manage to run up every step and dive down every slide. And, you know… he'd probably scrape himself up on the woodchips if he did that, but for just two or three fleeting seconds, it might be fun.
Mmm… No. He's having second thoughts about the woodchips. He'd rather have squishy rubber underfoot (or even just grass). Woodchips can pierce skin. They aren't safe. And they're not all that wheelchair-friendly either, which no one in this town seems to think about as much as he and Betty do. There's a reason he applied for a part-time job at the Learnatorium instead of volunteering at the school.
Well. A few reasons. But the illusion of choice lifts his spirits on some of his worse days.
Gary lingers at the edge of a crosswalk. It's gray, gray, gray this afternoon. Not rainy, but threateningly close. The clouds leer downward, erasing shadows from the sidewalk. Gary rocks from heels to toes and back again, waiting for the red hand firm and staring back from him to turn into a welcoming white Cross signal. Does the little glowing figure who lives inside the signal box ever feel like he's drifting through a void? Marching endlessly, stopping often, and never advancing where he'd like to go?
It's Saturday. 7 pm. There aren't many cars out on the weekend, especially since not a lot of people have a reason to stray near the elementary school in the summer. Including him, which is why he walked right past it. Sentimental he may be, but the man he's searching for only works at the school… He won't be there today.
Cars roll past, their tires slick and firm against the street. Gary presses the signal button twice (in case the first push doesn't take) and stares at his reflection in the mounted mirror on the crossing post. It's a big, round mirror, likely put there to help drivers see around the corners, so it's probably unsafe of him to stand directly in front of it, but… in that moment, Gary realizes he doesn't know how long it's been since he last looked himself over in a mirror. Properly, anyway. He doesn't need to very often. The short spikes in his hair don't require much attention (especially because he usually wears a hat). Thanks to his mild genie powers (probably? Maybe? Unclear), he's never had to deal with acne. Every now and then he adds a little eyeliner to his look, but it really depends on the day.
It's… it's been a few months since the last time he did. That stuff runs when you cry. It would give his thoughts away.
Still, Gary grimaces at the face staring back at him now. How long has he looked like a zombie in the mirror? Heavy circles cling beneath his eyes. Is that how Ed Leadly saw him when he came in today? No one he'd believe had authority; no one to take too seriously? (Actually, this adds up. Gary spent last night sleeping on the Learnatorium couch.)
The white walking figure on the crossroad sign blinks on.
I've really grown up. Did I really use to cross this busy street without adult supervision when I was a kid?
Thunder sneers overhead, though the lightning's yet to show its face. Gary keeps his thumbs in the backpack straps. He didn't need to check the address in a phone book. Everyone knows where to find 4158 Woodnick Lane. It's outlived just about everyone in Dimmsdale. It maybe always will.
Gary's halfway there when raindrops start plinking down. They sizzle on his hands. He glances up. Then, yanking the backpack over his head, he breaks into a run. Burn the witch, he thinks snidely, and immediately feels a swell of guilt. Betty, before she lost her memories, always was good at brushing off his self-deprecating thoughts. He brings up the old mantras, playing them through his head as his shoes smack the sidewalk and cars chug, their windshield wipers flinging droplets his direction.
"If you wouldn't say it to a sad child's face, don't say it to yourself."
The rain leaves bubbly welts across his hands. Gary huffs, sprinting for all he's worth, and leaps on a big cement planter just to avoid the gutter spray splash from a car rolling by. His skin throbs, hands thrusting their weird mix of human and genie cells into repairing what damage the water did. Over and over, again and again… one scalding patch of skin at a time. And it looks good as new, until it touches water again.
[Cnt’d - FFN and AO3 links at top]
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(A not so) Cruel Summer
Thank you for those who checked in and continue to send prompts. I'm still here! Just hit some major writers block. Hope you enjoy this fluffy one shot, and thank you again for all your support!
---
“S’Alright, alright, settle down. Gotta couple of announcements to make this morning before we set you free.” Grey announced as he made his way into roll call and approached the podium.
It was a sunny Monday morning in August, and as his vacation was starting on Saturday, and he and Luna had an All-Inclusive trip booked to Jamaica, he was eager to get through his week. Quickly, the officers fell in line and quieted down as they turned in their seats and gave the man their full attention.
“As I’m sure everyone already knows, it’s the last week of the LA County Fair. Things have thankfully been quite low key so far, so let’s hope that trend continues as it winds down. But while we’re on the topic…”
He paused for a moment and turned his gaze to Smitty. “A friendly reminder that policing does not include going on the rides while on duty if you happen to be working the fair.”
Smitty let out a huff as he threw his hands up. “Sarge, the kid was dodging me. It’s not my fault he decided to hop on the bumper cars while I was chasing him. Clearly it was an invitation!”
Grey rolled his eyes and reminded him of the rules just the same before continuing right along with his agenda, ticking a few more things off his list.
“Alright, last order of business. The queen of pop herself, Miss. Taylor Swift, is in town this weekend. And y’all, SoFi Stadium seats 70,000 people, and every seat will be filled each and every night. Do not underestimate the power of the Swifties. In any event, in trying to stay ahead of things, we’re looking to add two more officers to assist backstage for Friday evening’s show. The shift will be 2pm-midnight. If you—"
Slowly, Smitty’s hand began to raise. Grey looked over at him and folded his arms.
“Smitty, in the most respectful way I can put this, you are the last person I am trusting to keep Taylor Swift safe.”
“Okay, well that’s just rude.” He lamented. “Not that I was even offering, but rude none the less, sarge. What I was going to say is I’m out.”
He leaned back in his seat as a smug smile crept across his face and he looked around the room at his fellow officers.
“I don’t mean to brag or anything, but your boy here scored tickets for Friday night’s show for the low low price of $7,200.”
The shift in the room was palpable at his admission. Nolan, picking the wrong time to take a sip, practically choked on his coffee, and half the officers whipped around in their seats to gawk at Smitty. After several seconds of dead silence, Officer Jan finally spoke up.
“I’m out too sarge, got my daughters and I tickets. And—” He glanced over at Smitty. “We didn’t even pay close to seven grand for three tickets total.”
In the end, it was Lucy who raised her hand and volunteered, figuring she had nothing better to do on a Friday night. After being unable to secure herself a ticket to any of the California dates, she figured this was the closest she’d get to the experience and figured Tim could enjoy some overtime with Metro while she ran her security detail.
She was halfway out of the room when Grey stopped her and asked her back to the podium.
“Sir?”
“Lucy, thanks again for volunteering for Friday night, much appreciated.” He replied as he finished gathering his papers.
“Oh, yeah, happy to help.”
“Listen, we’re still one officer short. Any chance you think Tim might wanna help you out? In a way, it’d almost be like a date night for you guys.”
Lucy snorted in response, but quickly collected herself. “Sir, with all due respect, a stadium filled with 70,000 screaming fans is likely the last place Tim Bradford would want to be, but I’ll check with him just the same.”
Grey chuckled in agreement and wished her luck before sending her on her way to fulfill her latest mission.
Lucy left roll call and headed into the bullpen. She was on her way to find Tim in his office when she practically flew into him walking down the hall. Pulling herself back, she took a breath and recollected herself.
“Hey, sorry. I was just coming to find you, actually.”
Tim took a step closer to her and raised his hand up to brush against her cheek. Realizing quickly where they were, he pulled it back; instead running it through his hair and trying to play it cool.
“Oh, no problem. What’s up? What do you need?”
He looked down to see Lucy flashing her thousand watt smile and beginning to sway from side to side. Her telltale signs that she was about to ask him for a huge favor.
He sighed. “I already know I’m going to regret this.”
“No! It’s nothing bad, I promise!” She assured him. “Taylor Swift is in town and—”
“There it is…”
“Oh, come on! It could be fun! Grey needs extra security detail. You and me, backstage…it’s like a free show! And this is the closest I’m going to get to actually seeing her live for the Era’s tour.”
“You told me you were going to take Tamara if you got tickets.” He reminded her.
“Well, yeah, I was. But Tamara’s not a cop, so she can’t exactly be my partner here. Also, she was tagging along mostly out of pity for me, so…”
Tim stood in front of her thinking over the offer in his head. SoFi Stadium on a Friday night in August surrounded by seventy some thousand screaming people was truly one of his nightmares come to life. But he saw the way Lucy was looking up at him begging him to do this with her. And while there were many things Tim Bradford was capable of saying no to, Lucy Chen was not one of them.
He folded his arms and rolled his eyes. “Fine. But only because it’s you.”
Her eyes instantly lit up with excitement.
“Eeee! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Now we just have to find out your era.” She squealed delightfully. Tim caught her arm gently as she began to walk away from him.
“I’m sorry, my era?”
“Yeah. Each album is an Era. Everyone has a favorite. There’s Taylor Swift, Fearless, Speak Now, Reputation, Lover, Red, 1989…”
Tim knew if he didn’t cut her off Lucy was just going to continue to ramble off Taylor Swift albums.
“Alright, yeah, I get it now, girls got a lot of albums. What’s your favorite? And also, everyone cannot possibly have a favorite era. Half the people in here probably don’t even like Taylor Swift.”
Lucy eyed him up and down. “Uh huh, well, mine is Lover. And I assure you, everyone has a favorite.”
She looked throughout the office and spotted Aaron not far from them. “Oh! Thorsen! What is your favorite Taylor Swift era?”
Tim stood off to the side, skeptical of the whole thing.
“Oh, okay Lucy, asking the hard hitting questions first thing this morning.” He laughed. Bringing a fist to his lips, he stood, deep in thought.
“This has got to be a joke…” Tim huffed under his breath. Aaron glanced in his direction.
“Sir, this requires thought, okay? Like Rep? A whole ass mood. But Speak Now? Girl was in her feelings…and I felt that. But Red (Taylor’s Version) brought us the ten minute version of All Too Well.”
“God, such a good one!” Lucy sighed.
“Ten minutes?!” Tim whispered to himself. “Who the fuck crafts a ten minute song?!”
“I guess I’d have to say Red but Taylor’s Version for sure.” He finally decided. “Damn, good question, Luce. Now I know what to play on patrol today, thanks. Y’all be safe out there, have a good shift.”
“Yeah, you too.” Lucy replied, sending him off before turning back to Tim with a smug smile across her face. She batted her eyes and looked up at him expectedly. Tim, ever competitive, rolled his eyes and stared back at her with a mocking expression.
“Please, what do you want, a cookie? It’s Thorsen. The kid lives and breathes pop culture.” He sneered.
“Alright, fair point. Well listen, I have to head out on patrol. But if you’re so skeptical, why not ask around? In fact, I’ll make it worth your while. Winner chooses the lunch spot, and the loser pays.”  She raised her eyebrows and left him with a smile as she headed to grab her gear.
Tim found himself suddenly alone and frowned. He was always up for a challenge, especially when he won. A competitive man by nature, he loved nothing more than making bets with Lucy. Afterall, even when he lost to her, he still won in some fashion. Looking around the bullpen, he spotted Angela over at her desk.
“I got this in the bag.” He muttered to himself as he walked over to her.
“Lopez!”
“Hello, Timothy.” Angela settled back in her chair and took a sip of her coffee as he approached her and smiled. “To what do I owe this early morning visit?”
“I need your help. You see, Lucy and I have this bet going at the moment. So just go with me on this.”
Angela stopped everything she was doing in the moment, her eyes fixated on him.
“Look, Tim, we’ve been friends for years now. You and I both know you’re my longest friendship, and I love you dearly. I’d take a bullet for you. But what you and Lucy do behind—”
“Oh, seriously?! It’s nothing like that, so you can get your head out of the gutter now!” He pushed himself away from her cubicle, putting more space between them. “Look, do you have a favorite Taylor Swift era or album or whatever? Lucy’s convinced everyone does.
“Reputation.” Angela replied without missing a beat. Tim was left dumbfounded; certain if at least one person didn’t buy into this stuff, it would have been Angela. And his plan had just backfired.
“Morning guys!” He and Angela turned at the sound of Wesley coming up from behind them.
“Even Wesley has a soft spot for Taylor Swift.” She raised her coffee cup, gesturing toward him.
“I mean, yeah, who doesn’t? That girl can sing!” Wesley agreed. “Though Angela and I have differing opinions on what the best era is. Now, don’t get me wrong, Reputation is solid, for sure. But Lover just has so much feeling. I mean, it gave us Cruel Summer, Lover, and False God.”
“For sure, but Rep gave us Ready for it, I did something bad, Look what you made me do, and End Game. And I could keep going!”  
“Agreed, but did you see that SNL version of False God live? Flawless!”
Tim stood, lips pursed, and stared while his best friend and her husband argued over the best Taylor Swift album at 8 in the morning.  
“Alright, I’m ending this now,” He mumbled. “Harper!”
Nyla made her way over to her desk and dropped the file she was holding as she pulled her chair out.
“What?”
Tim sighed, unable to believe this was the morning’s topic of discussion. But she was his last chance. Certainly, if he couldn’t count on Angela, he could at the very least count on Nyla. Nyla would be the out he needed.
“Do you have a favorite Taylor Swift era?”
She flipped open the file she needed and began to sift through the papers, not even bothering to glance in Tim’s direction.
“Yes, it’s Reputation and if anyone tells you there’s a better option, they’re wrong.”
“That’s my girl right there.” Angela smirked before rolling her chair over and clinking her coffee cup to Nyla’s.
Tim walked away in a huff, shaking his head as he tried to ignore the laughter floating through the back of him.
“Utterly ridiculous.” He muttered.
Grabbing his phone out of his pocket, he scrawled out a text to Lucy.
“Where are we meeting for lunch today?”
----
“Identification please?”
Tim pulled out his license and took Lucy’s from her hand to be scanned.
“Alright, you guys are good to go. Thanks for your service today, we appreciate you. Just head on back, they’ll be expecting you.” The attendant handed them security lanyards to be scanned when they arrived backstage and waved them through.
Tim glanced back a few times as Lucy caught up to him.
“What’s up with that line back there? Are people waiting to get in already?” He asked her.
“Merch.”
Tim stopped and looked over at her.
“Excuse me?”
“The line back there, it’s for merchandise. You know, shirts, blankets, sweatshirts…”
“Lucy.” Tim deadpanned. “That line was like five hundred people deep.”
“Oh, I’m aware. Merch is no joke. A lot of people are even showing up in the day before or after their show just to wait in line.”
Tim shook his head and laughed it off. Certainly this wasn’t his first rodeo. He had been to many concerts in his lifetime and thought back fondly to seeing several bands live. The Foo Fighters being his favorite, but there was also the time he and Isabel had seen Fleetwood Mac, and the half dozen concerts he attended as a teen. And he never remembered seeing any kind of line like the one he had just passed by moments ago.
“Oh, hey.” Lucy stopped him briefly, gently taking his wrist in her hand. Reaching into her back pocket, she pulled out a small, beaded bracelet. “I made you a friendship bracelet.”
Tim looked down at the bracelet now attached to his wrist and frowned.
“This just says Lover.”
“Yeah,” Lucy smiled. “It’s my favorite Taylor Swift song. And after all, you are my lover…”
“Okay, that’s—I don’t—let’s just—”
“Aww, is my lover nervous?” She whispered next to him.
Tim knew Lucy took great pleasure in embarrassing him every chance she got, especially in public. He laughed it off as they walked back to the stage and Tim looked around the now empty stadium, shuddering. In just a few hours, every square inch of this place was going to be filled to the brim with people. And they would be screaming.
Making their way onto the stage, Tim and Lucy scanned their security passes and met with Taylor’s manager.
“What do you mean they’re out? Check another store, we’ve got time.” She spoke into her headset. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head before diverting her attention to Lucy and Tim.
“Hey guys! Sorry about that. Day of chaos as usual!” She beamed. “I’m Andrea Sweeny, Taylor’s manager. You must be Tim Bradford and Lucy Chen.”
“At your service, ma’am.” Tim replied, reaching his hand out to shake hers.
Lucy, barely able to speak, merely nodded and shook her hand.
“Luce,” Tim leaned over to her, whispering in her ear. “Take a breath. It’s just her manager. It’s not like you’re meeting Taylor herself.”
“Right, yeah, I can do this, it’s fine.” She reassured herself.
“Hey, the first set of officers arrived, is she ready?” Andrea spoke into her headset. Lucy’s head jerked up and she froze at the sound of those words.
“Great! Guys if you will follow me, Taylor will see you now.”
Tim’s eyes widened as Lucy began to stammer unintelligibly.
“Sorry, what??” Tim asked, vying for clarification.
Andrea stopped and laughed. “My apologies, I should have explained sooner. Taylor always likes to meet her security detail before the show. She just wants to be familiar with the team and take the time to thank them personally. You guys okay with that?”
“Y—yeah, not, uh, yeah, not a problem.” Lucy stammered.
“Yup all good.” Tim agreed.
Andrea laughed. “Relax guys, Taylor’s nice, I promise.”
The trio walked back to a trailer stationed near the stage and Lucy swore she could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she forced herself to put one foot in front of the other. She glanced over at Tim, and he shrugged, unsure of how this was going to go himself. 
Andrea walked up to the steps while Tim and Lucy stood back behind her. After a brief conversation with the gentleman who opened the door, they found themselves walking inside. With Tim behind Lucy, he rubbed her shoulders and whispered in her ear to take a breath and that she would be fine.
Lucy had been listening to Taylor Swift since she was roughly 13 years old. She had collected all of her albums, both CD and Vinyl, and used to have her walls covered in her posters as a teenager. She had even seen her in concert ten times. But nothing compared to the feeling she got seeing Taylor Swift in person, mere feet from her. Lucy swore her heart was in her stomach at that point.
“Taylor,” Andrea announced. “Meet officers Tim Bradford and Lucy Chen with the LAPD. They’re part of your security detail this evening and will be stationed backstage in case you need anything.”
“Ma’am, it’s a pleasure to protect you this evening.” Tim stated as he extended his hand to hers.
Lucy meanwhile stood in a panic, trying not to stare, and begging herself to say something, anything at this point.
“Holy crap you’re even taller than I expected.” She finally blurted out. Instantly a blush crept up her face, mortified that of all the things she could have said, that was the line that won.
Taylor laughed a full bellied laugh and smiled sweetly.
“Guys, thank you both so much for being here, it’s really appreciated. I like to take the time to get to know my staff, all of them, and thank them for being a part of this. This tour is bigger than anything I’ve put together up to this point and can’t go on without a whole host of people. Everyone truly plays a part, big or small. So, thank you both for contributing.”
“Of course, it’s our pleasure. And as Tim said, we’ll be happy to help if you need anything. I tried forever to get tickets but lost the great Ticketmaster war, so I’m just happy to be here.”
“Wait…you haven’t been able to see the concert yet?” Taylor asked.
Lucy shook her head. "Well, no. But it's fine, really. TikTok really helps fill the gap." 
“Well, that’s changing…Andrea!”
Taylor’s manager popped her head back in. “Yes, my dear?”
“Please make sure that officer Lucy here gets two—no, make that four tickets to tomorrow night's show, I would love for her to get to experience it in front of the scenes instead of behind.” She smiled.
After a few more moments of talking, Tim and Lucy left Taylor’s trailer with pictures, memories, and front row seats to tomorrow night’s show, much to Lucy’s surprise.
Lucy, floating on a cloud, grabbed her phone and quickly began texting Angela, Nyla, and Bailey.
“This night is—”
“Enchanting?” Tim answered, cutting her off. He smirked, hoping she would get his reference.
Lucy looked up at him, with a smile that stretched her whole face. “Enchanting indeed.”
----
The midnight clock on the stage appeared and began to count down. The lights dimmed and the crowd absolutely erupted in screams, cheers, and applause. The feeling in the stadium instantly became electric. Lucy watched on, looking out and seeing the thousands upon thousands of people.
“Los Angeles!! It’s your turn tonight!” Taylor announced as she made her way onto the stage. Tim didn’t think it was possible, but somehow, he found the crowd erupting even louder at the sight of her.
He looked over at Lucy, watching the show from backstage, guarded, and ready to jump into action at any time if needed, but still awestruck watching her idol perform in front of 70,000 people. Her hands were clasped together, resting just below her nose, caught up in the excitement of all the feelings the night brought with it.
As the guitar chords began to play a familiar tune and Taylor talked to the crowd, Tim walked over to Lucy from behind.
Wrapping his arms around her, he began to sway with her and sing along with Taylor, singing to her the lyrics to her favorite song softly against her ear.
“Can I go where you go?
Can we always be this close forever and ever?
And ah, take me out, and take me home
You’re my, my, my, my Lover”
He could feel her body stiffen against him and she stopped and turned to face him.
“How did you—”
“Been listening to this song on repeat so much this week I could sing it in my sleep. It is your favorite after all.”
"Yeah, it is."
Tears began to well in her eyes, in awe of the gesture and the effort Tim put forth to connect with her.
“That being said, I gotta side with Harper and Lopez on this one. Reputation is really the best era. But I guess there’s still time to learn that album in time for tomorrow night…”
"Oh, you think you're getting one of my tickets...that's so cute." 
Tim scoffed, breaking out into a smile as he lightly punched Lucy in the shoulder. 
"Punk. You can't not bring your Lover to the Taylor Swift concert."
Turning against him, Lucy lifted up on her tip toes and kissed Tim, wanting something deeper as a way to convey her thanks, but settling for a few quick pecks, knowing they were both on duty.
“Tim, thank you, I love you for this and for so much more.”
“I love you too, Luce. Thanks for dragging me out here." 
Turning back toward the stage and returning their attention to the show, Tim finally understood what Lucy was talking about. 
And maybe, just maybe, everyone did have a favorite Era. 
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robotslenderman · 1 year
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Cleaning my room is helping with the depression. Makes me feel like my space more belongs to me and not to them.
Also. Been feeling blehhh a while over how many possessions I have. The biggest reason my room has become such a bomb site over the last few years is because I don't have space to put fuck all.
While browsing houses for sale it finally hit me why: it's bc I'm a grownass adult cramming the contents of a one bedroom apartment into one room. This isn't just my bedroom, it's also my laungry, medicine cabinet/bathroom (in terms of supplies), study/hobby room, lounge room, verandah (plants), dining room and (sometimes) my kitchen.
I've got my iron and ironing board in here, I've got all my cables in here and my over the counter meds, I keep my dog treats in here. I'm seeing photos of bedrooms where all they have in one room is a bed, night stand and wardrobe, and I've got all that plus a ton more. I've got a chest of drawers, an arm chair, a table, a bed, shelves, desk, etc etc.
If anything I've actually done really well to maximise the space I've got and I should be proud of that. I mean, shit, I've done so well on the furniture tetris front I'm pretty sure I can fit in a corner wardrobe and a dressing table and have room for more, and then I'd have more storage.
But I've decided that since I'm working full time and I'm living at home, I'm going to put every cent I've got towards a deposit and then, depending on if it's possible, try to buy a house in a cheaper city where there's still jobs. If it turns out I have too many possessions to throw out then I'll get some cheap storage, but for now I'll try to save more.
Work is winding down for Christmas so I'm going to start sending out job apps again to get a position that pays better. If I can handle it I'll get a casual Saturday job somewhere for extra cash. When I have enough saved I can start looking for a place, I'll look for remote work to help with the transition.
At least, that's the plan for now. Fact is that I don't have the cash flow to rent, not without eventually draining my savings, but if I can stick this out and save up for the house deposit I'd pay less per week and I'd have a house at the end of it. Which is super fucked up -- I can't afford to move out and rent but if I stay long enough I might be able to afford to buy a fucking house. But if I don't take advantage of this opportunity and do this now I never will be able to again.
So if I'm gonna have to put up my parents bullshit I may as well get a fucking house out of it.
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ocean-anchored · 5 months
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Continued still.. December 3, 2023
Monday night I went to the Knights & flames game with Shane, he got really great tickets & I got to wear my jersey. It was a nice evening, he was good & I had asked him before not to ask me if Im ok at any point to trigger my emotional mess. Chrystal was gone the week so I was going into okotoks everyday to cover. Tuesday I originally didn't have plans but then Connor asked to hang out after work. Went for Taco tuesday which was nice then back to his place. I ended up staying the night, I felt like he wanted me to stay but idk, I still can't get a read on him. Part of me just thinks we're kind of doing the same thing to each other. I mean I know i'm not really going out of my way to ask him or make plans but his texting just sucks that I can't read if he wants to or not. Like its hard to keep any convo up over text & maybe he's just like that, I understand his work is a lot so keeping that up is tough, but then after we talked about how I might not be doing a roadtrip in January it died off & he didn't reply so whatever. I mean he has asked to hang out so I assume, & he does ask me to stay so maybe? But to what benefit? Idk. I do enjoy his company though. Wednesday I went for dinner with Ed & Mariana a founder of ours from Mexico city. Ill have to write another time on how I had planned to do a road trip down to the states or mexico for a few weeks but I dont think it's going to work out in January so I'll talk about it later for now. Went to Charbar which was really great, nice environment & cool, really great food. Thursday I finally had a night to myself, I was pretty tired from the week & had a lot this weekend so I chilled & gamed for a bit, took it easy. Friday had lunch with Ed, again I might talk about that later but I'm still really blessed to be working with him. Friday night was my ugly christmas sweater games night which I think turned out really well! 9 people including me, jeremiah brought his friend Dan, steven, amanda, shane who came 2 hours late... that was another whole other story of annoyance & triggering for me, Kamber, amber & naythan. It was fun, started around 6/6:30 & everyone stayed till like midnight so it was a lot of fun. Saturday I chilled for day, Marc forgot about our facetime which sucks but whatever. Was supposed to go to anneriekes to decorate the tree but didn't want to be around that environment again which I think I forgot to mention anyways that I went for dinner two weeks ago & it was just a lot to take in & I'm tired of talking about Steve. Anyway I went to amber & naythans instead with nova, nova did so good with Rue, it was honestly so sweet watching nova play again & be so gentle with her, made me so happy. We played catan & had a really great night. Amber also got me the exit game advent calendar that were all in a challenge together, like 4 of us couples minus mine of course & that's super fun so far, proud that I've solved the first two alone with no hints! Anyways, love those people so much. Today, sunday, went to 8:30am service which was so good again. I really love this church I think & want to stay in it. Its so lively & actually makes me want to lean into God when I leave & "sets my heart on fire" again feeling. Went to brunch with Daniel at Diner Deluxe which was great again, he's a good guy. Hes really smart & very... aware. Its a breath of fresh air & its really nice to be able to talk to someone emotionally on the same page especially about relationships & the struggles. Then mom surprised me at being at my house after so we could go for a walk & we had some good conversation. Then went to a movie with steven & amanda which was good so im finally relaxing now winding down for bed. This week will be busy again & the weekend but then it get's quiet which I think Im finally looking forward too.
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apocalypticavolition · 6 months
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Let's Play Book of Hours! Up & In
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Monday April 20th
In my dreams, the Wood fell away to stranger places, closer to Nowhere. I wandered empty landscapes, searching for a way to consciousness but finding none. When it seemed there was no way left to go but down past the threshold of the abyss, a terrible wind picked me up and carried me away, presenting me with gray robes. Whispering in my ear, the breeze said that Solomon Husher had worn these when first he came to the library. I knew at once upon waking what I must do. It may be some time before I return; I dare not let this journal leave the library.
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Friday April 24th
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I have received a true boon. A week on the wilderness, fasting, camping under the stars, sacrificing some rabbits for nothing else was on hand, and it has paid off. In the hollow of a tree, I found a strange package. Clearly it had meant to be sent in the post, but how it had wound up in the wilderness I cannot fathom. I shall take to battle and cut it open tomorrow in a fashion deserving of the belongings of the great Solomon Husher. Tonight I shall bathe and thus cleanse myself in preparation.
Saturday April 25th
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I don't want to talk about it. What on Earth was someone's laundry basket doing upon the moors?
Sunday April 26th
Between my excursions for the past week and yesterday's rather depressing debacle, I decided to spend today at The Sweet Bones, helping the proprietor clean the back storage area. I'm not sure what were in the boxes there but I imagine that it at least belongs.
Monday April 27th
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I turned my attention today to one of the other two manuscripts that had been left behind in the Keeper's Lodge. This one was much more recent, written within my own lifetime. Again, much of my day was dedicated merely to preparing a new cover that I might be able to recognize it on sight. Due to its connection to the Lantern-light of Glory, I elected for a charming yellow. It was The Locksmith's Dream: a Light through the Keyhole" by Teresa Galmier. If only her examination of parallels in the mystic dreams of artisans had been available to me before, I might have realized my own dream was building to disappointment. Alas, hindsight is everything.
Tuesday April 28th
I finished my cataloguing of what had been left in the Keeper's Lodge with the third book, which was a little older as it belonged to the Curia period. That said, it is an updated version of an older work: Kerisham's heavily censored manuscript on The Three and the Three. It describes operations of the Chancel and the Calyptra, two triads of Hours with subtle, far-reaching powers and responsibilities, though most of the original's juiciest details have been excised for political reasons. Nonetheless, I suspect that there are secrets that might be revealed by Moon-light or similar machinations.
Wednesday April 29th
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I spent a good deal of time at The Sweet Bones today. The miners are warming up to me a little, but I soon concluded that none of them were up to the task of helping me repair the Watchman's Tower. I barely know what I'm doing; architecture is far too mundane an art to be recorded in my journal. In the end, I posted a notice that I was hoping for assistance. I must make progress quickly; people in the pub were complaining about the prime minister's plan to increase taxes to pay for defense. War comes.
Thursday April 30th
Though I still have had no reply to my advertisement (I checked at breakfast and dinner), I have done what surveying of the top floor of the tower I can. My work here is sadly quite limited: a leak developed in these past seven years and the ceiling of the first floor study is sagging noticeably. I dare not wander freely for fear of plummeting back down! Thus, the various covered instruments - and they are immense - remain a mystery to me, though I have my hopes based on the large windows. All I've been able to do so far is determine that the leak definitely isn't directly above the door to the stairs.
Friday May 1st
I have had luck at last! This morning at The Sweet Bones I met Thomas, a traveling performer of sorts. Though these days he makes his living traveling the Isles and getting tips in pubs and on street corners, he explained that he had once been part of an orchestra. It seems he fell out of favor after getting into a fight with the conductor shortly before a performance; something about a woman. Though it has been some years since Thomas has visited the capital or other large cities, he remembers well the theaters he once toured. He says he enjoyed wandering the backstage and seeing how the fascinating architecture of large buildings was held up from within. I hired him at once.
We have spent most of the day laboring away upstairs, first testing the floor with the safety of a second pair of eyes and then moving a ladder about to gain access to the roof. We patched several holes and will be ready to continue tomorrow.
Saturday May 2nd
Another busy day. We finished our survey of the roof and I think we've taken care of everything. I suppose there's no way to be certain until it rains. We then spent the day ripping out the damaged wood. Neither one of us is much good at this, but I suppose I am only going to get better.
Sunday May 3rd
Much too tired to keep writing. Lugging the new wood up the stairs quite exhausted me. We are done though.
Monday May 4th
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Today I was finally able to appreciate the Observatory. Baron Silence had it constructed just in time for the passage of the Great Comet of 1577. I nearly squealed in excitement when I pulled away the massive sheet covering the telescope and got to enjoy it in its full glory. (Later I would use the sheet to wrap up the laundry basket I found on the moors that I might never be taunted by it again.)
My regret is that today was a little too cloudy for any sustained observations. I am certain that with a fuller understanding of the stars my progress may make leaps and bounds. I may even be able to create something, if I could deduce the recipes. For now I contented myself with a brief examination of the waxing moon, which was visible for an hour after sunset before disappearing behind the sky.
Tuesday May 5th
I returned to The Sweet Bones once again in the hopes of finding good jobs to do. Until the Trust sends me another annual stipend, I fear that I am going to be struggling making ends meet.
Wednesday May 6th
I examined the door on the far side of the Cloistered Garden today. It is covered in many strange sigils and signs that my diary has few notes upon; I was always a man of more conservative tastes when it came to painting. Until I understand them, I dare not open the door, for what little I can recognize carries a warning against disturbing the sanctity of the library. I went down to the pub again to place another advertisement.
Thursday May 7th
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Success! Today I met Olivia, an experimental painter of some sort. She showed me her catalog and frankly I'm not certain if she isn't a bit deranged, but her work has been displayed at several minor exhibitions in the isles, so clearly someone appreciates it even if it's not to my tastes. In truth I'm uncertain if she'll be able to make any headway at all, but she was quite enthusiastic to hear that I was the new librarian. She'd expected she'd be painting the library from afar, but I've agreed to let her spend some time on the premises if she makes serious progress - and while there is little of the library to show off, I gave her a tour of Hush House to get started. She promised to return Saturday and begin in earnest.
Friday May 8th
I spent today cataloging one of the books I found in the Watchman's Tower. Another work of Forge, I think.
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Saturday May 9th
Olivia returned today. She spent the day in the garden asking me strange questions. I wonder if there is more to her than there seems or if she simply is so ignorant of the occult that she has no fear of asking preposterous questions. She wanted to know the age of the rooms, whether they had ever been built in a different fashion, what I thought the house might look like if the Watchman's Tower had never been built, and so on.
Sunday May 10th
Unfortunately, I spent the day indisposed. I think I caught a cold passing around the village. I hope Olivia didn't catch it, but I saw no sign of her.
Tuesday May 12th
My fever broke today. Still no sign of Olivia. I spent the time cataloging The Book of the Centipede. Unlike most of the books I've catalogued so far, this one is written in Greek. I suspect it pertains to that strangest of Principles: Rose, which contains all hopes and possibilities within.
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Wednesday May 13th
Olivia returned. As I feared, she'd caught ill and needed slightly longer to recover. I left her to her work while working on another book from the Curia period, which I suspect might refine my Knock, that principal which opens and allows passage. Serendipitously, Olivia revealed the fruits of her labor: still feeling a bit ill, she elected to paint the hall doors and all the sigils on them, entirely obscuring them. I was uncertain, but she passed through the doorway without incident. I will check on her tomorrow.
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Thursday May 14th
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Olivia was fine. Finally able to enter the Entrance Hall, I spent today appreciating the glorious collection of statuary present. Much of the history of this library is captured within. Two busts of the Dewulfs - Hendrick and Valentine, first and last of the barons. A full statue of the first Eva, Lady de Braose who donated generously to the Abbey in the thirteenth century, an odd statue of the protector of the House Lady Rowena (none have ever seen her, but either she is real or someone is pretending to be her through St. Rhonwen's Trust), and a truly ancient bust from the Dawn labeled "Sister". Two of the abbots: the early Thomas and the later Geffrey, who built a tower to house a Jewish surgeon. Another bust, St Melancthe, the alchemist, inscribed "The cross died not but passed within."
There are other wonders here as well. A homey fireplace for visitors to warm themselves beside as they put on leather gloves and slippers, soothing paintings of trees, the crook Authority (no doubt left behind by the Suppression Bureau), and gloomier paintings too. One is of the beach at high tide, the other is called "The Boy Prays" but I see no boy in the picture and nothing resembling prayer. Finally, an ancient wood sits over the fire. I cannot imagine simply burning it however.
Friday May 15th
Truly I must be a fool. Once again I have had a strange dream brought by the winds. They led me down into the depths of the Earth, following after the Cross, so far down that the caves around me became like shifting seas with every step uncertain. They coiled around themselves and spiraled down and down and down. I shall set out on the moors at once.
Wednesday May 20th
I returned from my excursion late today. I circled the island many times, perhaps seven times seven, eating only bread and drinking only water. I followed the winds as they blew me, listening in to the rumors of war they foretold. On my last circle, my foot stumbled and I nearly fell headfirst into a little pit in the earth. I reached in and pulled out this single viper's egg. I am still far too low on resources to have a pet at the moment, but I think I shall hatch it once I can.
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September (Eddie Munson)
A/N: Hey y'all! Here is another Eddie fic that is written like the other ones because I am in love with his man :D Hope y'all enjoy it! Please don't copy my work. I worked really hard on writing this! Please and thank you! :) <3
Summary: Just some fluff between Piper and Eddie PS, might have some sexual themes ;)
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“Do you remember the 21st night of September?” you sang along to the sounds of funk from Earth, Wind, and Fire. It was Saturday night and the first time in a month that you were home alone, and you were taking advantage of it. You were currently in front of the stove making spaghetti for dinner, swaying your hips to the beat. 
Your mom was gone for the weekend with her friends, and your brother was at the Wheeler’s for the night. So this gave you enough time to do what you wanted to do around the house.
As the chorus came around, you took one of the spoons and used it as a microphone, dancing along to the best of the song, "Ba-dee-ya, say, do you remember? Ba-dee-ya, dancin' in September!"
As you were dancing around the kitchen, you didn't notice the sound of your boyfriend coming in. When you spun back around and saw a figure in the doorway, you screamed and dropped the spoon on the floor. 
"Jesus, Eddie!" You yelled when you realized it was just your boyfriend. 
"Hey now, let's leave the other guy out of this," he smirked. You rolled your eyes, "Whatcha doin' here anyway?"
"I just came to hang out with my girl and maybe see Miles while I was here too. But from the looks of it, it's just you," he said as he got his lip. You didn't know it, but he was taking you all in. Your short messy hair, the way you pushed up your glasses, the way your T-shirt fell just below your butt, "Are you wearing any pants?"
You turned around to him, blushing a little, "Dude, I wasn't expecting anyone but me to be at my house. No. I'm not wearing pants."
Eddie grinned as you turned back around to finish making your dinner, "That's sexy."
You snorted and mumbled under your breath, "Horndog."
"Only for you, baby. I bet you aren't wearing a bra, either, are you? Damn it," he said. "I come here expecting to see Miles," he started counting on his fingers, "maybe eat dinner, watch a movie with my girl, make out with the said girl, talk gossip, make out some more, and then go to sleep. But," he throws his hands up, "here I am getting turned on by the fact that my beautifully thick, and sexy girlfriend is making dinner in nothing but a T-shirt and panties! What is a man to do!"
You giggled, "Well, you could help your girlfriend by getting the plates and cups out if you want?"
He thought about it, "What's the fun in that?"
You sighed and went over to the cabinet where the plates were at. You opened it and reached up and grabbed two plates. You didn't notice that your shirt rode up just enough to tease Eddie.
Then the timer went off, signaling the garlic bread was ready. You found the oven mitt and opened the oven. As you bend down to get the bread out of the oven, you heard Eddie groan from behind you.
You put the bread on the counter and turned around to look at Eddie, "What's wrong, baby?"
He bit his lip, "God, your thighs are so pretty. And your ass is so gorgeous in those purple panties."
You giggled again as you turned back to the spaghetti on the stove. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. These hips are so deliciously thick. 
"You miss me?" You asked, smiling.
"Just couldn't help myself, sweet thing. Your hips are just too delicious to not be touched," Eddie said as he stood behind you.
You hummed, "Well, I made extra if you want to take some home for you as leftovers and some for Uncle Wayne. I'm sure he would appreciate somethin' other than a TV dinner to eat sometimes."
"Yes, ma'am," he said as he watched you do whatever you were doing. Swaying along to Fleetwood Mac. 
"How was your day?" You asked him. He happy hummed. 
"Did you hear what I said?" 
He hummed again.
"I'm movin' away."
He hummed.
"I'm pregnant."
Again.
"It's twins."
Again.
"They're Steve Harrington's."
"What?" He asked, trying to see your face and why you brought up Steve Harrington. You laughed and pouted playfully, "You'll answer to Steve but won't answer to me?"
He chuckled and then pecked your lips. You pulled away to get the pot of noodles and drained the water into the sink. 
"Did I ever tell you how sexy you look in that T-shirt?" he asked, grinning mischievously.
You put the pot back on the burner that wasn't hot and went up to him, chest to chest. You tapped his cheek lovingly, "Aw, bless your heart. You're tryin' so hard to get into my pants."
"Is it working?" he asked hopefully.
"No," you deadpanned with the sweetest smile on her face. You kissed his cheek and then finished up. He groaned and then sat on the counter, watching you finish making dinner.
"It's ready," you told him a few minutes later. He smiled and made the plates of spaghetti and took them into the small dining room. You brought in the cups of soda that you were drinking and had dinner.
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After dinner, Eddie leaned back in the chair and rubbed his lean stomach, "Keep making good food like that; I'll be fat in no time!"
You smiled a little, "It's the southern in me. How do you think I got this big?"
He looked at you as you were getting plates and taking them into the kitchen. He got up and followed you, "Sweetie, you are not fat. You are beautiful. You have curves that other girls would be jealous to have! And that men want to hold! But lucky for you. You have these curves that are so goddamn gorgeous, and lucky for me, I'm the man that gets to hold them. Because they fit perfectly in my hands, with my body."
You looked at him, wrapping your arms around his neck, "I love you, Eddie Munson."
He looked at you, putting his hands on your hips, "I love you, Piper Jones."
You reached up and kissed sweetly on the lips until his hands moved down and grabbed a handful of your ass. You pulled back a little giggling, "Eddie."
He grinned, "Yes?"
"Just a few more minutes, and then I'm all yours, okay?" You told him, pulling away, pushing his hands from your ass. He whined and pouted.
But then he went back to his spot behind you as you washed the dishes. You were swaying to Wild Cherry until a new song came in, "Hey, once I was a boogie singer."
Then your hips started subconsciously dancing along to the song's beat. Which made it to where her ass was grinding against Eddie's front. 
"That's it!" He said as he picked you up, and you squealed. He carries you down the hallway toward your bedroom.
"But Eddie! I gotta finish the dishes!" You told him.
"I'm sorry, but the dishes have to wait," he said as he threw you on the bed. You bounced a little and giggled. He continued, and he crawled up to you, "I want my dessert now."
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