#i should have just replaced the finger in the original pic with his face that wouldve been much better but i also dont want to change thing

[delulluart]

Yet another sketch, sorry - but this time it's Papa II, surprise!

Not entirely happy (mostly unhappy with that depth of field finger on the top left), ran out of time for the mitre and the no eraser rule was really tough today (30mins, 1 mechanical pencil, no eraser)

dedicated to @ghoulymadge and their fantastic gifsets

#ghost #the band ghost #papa emeritus ii #secondo #30 min sketches #me chosing pics: do i like them? do they have strong light/shadow effect? and most importantly: can i make the eye look really glowing? #i should have just replaced the finger in the original pic with his face that wouldve been much better but i also dont want to change thing #too much (except for removing mask edges) idkkkkkk #anyway have more silly sketches im currently too stressed for paintings #plus i loooove using pencil even if people prefer colours #portrait

[frantic-fiction]

Reunions

(Pic: lovelybluebirdie) I cropped it a bit

Astarion x gn!reader, Astarion x reincarnated!Tav

Summary: A few months after reconnecting to your past life as Tav, a party is set to meet the rest of the group. You're nervous, worried about not living up to who you once were. Will you be enough?

This is a little part 2 of I'll Find My Way Back to You

Notes/ Warning: Pretty much just fluff. Reader is insecure. Astarion is a supportive partner. I kept all 6 origin characters alive because it's my story and I don't want to imagine any of them dead. Also, Halsin's here cause druids live to be like a thousand or whatever.

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist

You're not panicking. Why would you be? It's not like you're meeting a group of people you've only met in dreams—a group of strangers you've painted for the better part of your existence- a family forged through hardship from a past life you're still trying to remember fully.

No, you're not panicking. You're not scared that the people who are so excited to see you will not like what they see. You're not terrified the family Astarion has helped you remember will look at you disappointed once they realize you are no longer the Tav they once knew. You're not worried at all. Not. One. Bit.

You spent the afternoon cleaning the house from top to bottom. It was sparkling, and your fingers ached from the hours of scrubbing you filled in the restless day with. No surface was left untouched. Bookshelves were dusted, baseboards were spotless, and even the top of the cupboards, where no one would ever see, were wiped down. The floors were swept and mopped three times now, but you keep finding spots you missed. Astarion even physically stopped you from scaling the roof to clean the chimney when you ran out of things to occupy yourself with.

There's a roast in the oven, potatoes, and veggies cooking alongside it, and a pie cooling on the counter. You wanted to cook more, but you were worried that not everyone would like blueberries or that someone had turned to a plant-based diet. Astarion quickly reminded you that they used to eat food out of dusty barrels and mildewed chests.

Currently, you stand in front of your floor-length mirror. Astarion is out on a quick hunt before the party arrives, leaving you to obsess over your thoughts of inadequacy. The majority of your closet littered the floor. You're scrutinizing a simple tunic and legging combo. Was it too simple? Should you wear something more eye-catching?

You're trying to remember what Tav would have worn. All you can recall is blood-stained armor and simple camp clothes. But this occasion garners something more. Fuck. Stripping off the current outfit, you replace it with an almost identical one and look at yourself in the mirror again. You weren't sure what you expected, maybe to magically love this pair of pants and old tunic. But in reality, you were just as frustrated and worried.

The clothes weren't the problem, you knew that, but it was easier to be pissed at a blouse than to accept that you were scared. You were frightened to face Astarion and Tav's friends. You have Tav's memories and feel an odd kinship with these people. But you weren't Tav, and you would never be them, at least not entirely.

You felt like an imposter to try and convince anyone otherwise. Tears of frustration and disappointment in yourself began to trail down your cheeks. How could a silly artist hold a candle to the kind and heroic savior of Baldur's Gate? You glared at yourself, wishing things could have been different.

You jump when you feel cold arms wrap around your torso and a warm kiss at the nape of your neck. Astarion loved to use his lack of reflection to sneak up on you. You, on the other hand, hated it. Still, you found yourself leaning back into his firm chest.

"Hello, my love,"

You try to stop the pathetic sniffle, but it's useless. Astarion turns you in his arms and cups your jaw. "Darling," is all he says because he knows. Of course, he knows.

That simple pet name causes the floodgates to open, and you crumple into Astarion's chest, nuzzling his neck. He tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer to his body. Astarion lets you cry, knowing how nervous you've been for this meetup.

He rubs soft circles on the small of your back and peppers kisses to the crown of your head. "You can talk to me,"

"W-what if they don't li-like me?"

Astarion moves you both to the bed, skirting around the mess you made. He sits down and pulls you onto his lap to look you in the eyes better. "Why wouldn't they love you?" He prompts, not wanting to push you.

"Star, you know why. I'm not Tav," you hiccup, and you're positive the words you're speaking are incoherent. "I have their memories and some of their mannerisms and…and I'm also allergic to bees, but I'm not them. What if they hate me because I'm not Tav."

Astarion pecks your lips to halt your panicked words. He wipes the tears from your damp face. "No, you are not Tav, but they are part of you. They live in your art, laugh, and kind heart."

"But wha-"

"Let me finish, my love," Astarion smiles, brushing some hair behind your ear. "No one expects you to be Tav. We all love them deeply, but Tav's gone." He swallows hard, the words still hard to voice for him.

Astarion kisses your forehead, then your cheek, and continues to pepper kisses over your face, catching stray tears. "They just want to get to know the beautiful artist I fell in love with. Gale's big mouth might have let them know more about our history than I would have liked, but that doesn't change anything."

"And if they don't like the person you fell in love with?" You ask softly.

"Then fuck all of them. I love you, and if they don't love you as well, then they have no place in my life." His eyes pierce deep into yours, and there's no denying the truth of his words. You are overcome with a wave of love for your vampire and kiss him softly once more. "Now come, my love, by the smell, your roast is done."

"Shit!" You jump off his lap and rush out of the room, self-doubt pushed to the side.

*

The roast is fine if slightly burnt on the top. It looked juicy and smelled amazing. The vegetables are mush, but the potatoes are tender and seasoned well. It's not your best meal, but there's nothing you can do to fix it now. You left it on the counter to rest and found Astarion in the living room.

He was rehanging one of your paintings- the one you drew late last year after waking up in a cold sweat. It was a complete picture of the party standing on a dock overlooking the Grey Harbor just as the sun rose above the horizon. Astarion helps you fill in the gaps, telling you that this followed the fall of the Absolute.

"What are you doing?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning against the wall. You had hidden away most of your art, too embarrassed by the sheer number of canvases depicting the guest due here any minute.

Astarion finishes hanging the painting above the fireplace and turns to you. "I liked this one and thought I'd put it back."

Before you could say anything, there was a knock at the door. Your stomach instantly dropped, and your heart beat hard in your chest. As if sensing your rising anxiety, Astarion moved to your side, his large palm finding the small of your back.

He swiftly kisses your cheek. "One word and I'll throw them all out."

Astarion leaves you and walks to answer the door. Your palms are sweating, and you rub them down your thighs. You take a few deep breaths and pace the room. Not knowing what else to do, you idly fluff up the decorative pillows of the couch and stall.

"Pull yourself together." You mumbled under your breath. You hear the sounds of multiple footsteps, and you know they're all here.

Why did Astarion request for them to arrive all at once? You're still not sure. But you're suddenly very pissed at him for his decision. Having all of them looking upon you like an art exhibit terrifies you.

"My dear," Astarion pokes his head into the room, a warm smile adorning his sharp features. "Would you like to meet our guest?"

You swallowed hard and nodded. Putting on a brave smile, you rounded the couch and reached for Astarion's hand. Threading his fingers with yours, you curled around his arm like a lifeline.

Moving out into the foyer, you shyly look at the group before you. Gale, given the circumstances of your and Astarion's meeting, you had already met. He had relentlessly bothered Astarion until an introduction was made between you and the wizard. But you've only seen the others in the paintings you've made and the dreams you've seen.

Karlach bounced on her feet, Wyll smiling brightly behind her left shoulder. Haslin stood by the door, a beautifully sculpted wooden bear in his arms. Shadowheart stood beside him, her face passive but relaxed and almost pleased. Lae'zel was the farthest from the group, brooding in the corner, looking at you suspiciously. Still, she even loosened her tense shoulders and stepped forward upon your entry.

"Um, hi." You waved meekly, giving them your name, cringing when your voice cracked.

It's quiet for a moment too long, and you're a step away from fleeing when Karlach skips over to you.

"Can I hug you?!" She almost yells, shaking her fists excitedly.

"Karlach!" Astarion scolds. The Tiefling had, by the looks of it, broken a rule he had set for your comfort.

"Sorry, sorry." Karlach's smile fades, and she moves to retreat. Your heart clenches, and it's like your body moves on instinct. You detach from Astarion before you can think, and then your arms are around her waist. Her scalding heat seeps into your bones and listen to the cranks of her engine.

"Hi Karlach," you whispered into her torso. The wind squeezed from your body, and your feet were off the ground.

"It's nice to finally meet you! The letters fangs write didn't do you justice."

Quickly, the group connects like magnets. Wyll crowds in and hugs you from behind, pressing you closer to Karlach. Gale piles on after, then Halsin. Shadowheart nudges her way between the men and apologizes on behalf of everyone but gives you an equally tight squeeze. The group even wrangles Astarion and Lae'zel into this group hug.

These people are supposed to be strangers, but having them close, seeing this family you've watched through someone else's memories for most of your life right before you. It fills you with familiar warmth and affection and has tears of joy in your eyes. You might not be Tav, not entirely, but you still have a place in this little family.

"Um…excuse me, I can't breathe." You squeak out after a moment of suffocation, and the group is quick to disperse.

Wiping away the lingering dampness from your cheek, you take a moment to compose yourself, clearing your throat with a subtle grace. Your hand instinctively finds its way back, and Astarion swiftly recovers it, his touch reassuring. Soft circles dance on the back of your hand, a silent question lingering in his gaze, seeking affirmation that you're all right. You respond with a nod and a comforting squeeze of his hand.

"Ah, well…" you chuckle with a hint of self-awareness. "I have a roast with everyone's names on it. And a blueberry pie; Astarion found a wild patch on one of his hunts."

"Thank the gods, I'm famished," Wyll sighs, his appetite evident as he sniffs the air dreamily. A nudged Karlach sets the communal movement toward the dining room in motion.

Astarion emerges with the wine, gracefully pouring glasses of red for everyone. Gale, the sole visitor to your home beforehand, takes charge of the table settings. With a flick of his fingers and a whispered incantation, plates and silverware align harmoniously. The stage set, the food emerges, and the night takes flight.

It feels like a cinematic scene picking up where it had once paused, a seamless continuation. Laughter weaves through the air, stories unfold, and even the occasional argument dissolves into a chorus of joyous laughter. Though new and fresh, the conversation flows as naturally as breathing. Strangers evolve into friends, and amidst the clinking of glasses, a familial bond begins to sprout. Tav was indeed fortunate to have these beautiful souls around.

As the night bids farewell and everyone departs, you find solace curled up against Astarion. His voice, a gentle undercurrent, softly reads from his newest book, and you gaze up, fixated on the beautiful man before you. A silent expression of gratitude graces your lips, an unspoken acknowledgment directed at Tav. Thanks for giving you a family and the love of your life.

Astarion's fingers scratch your scalp, tenderly coaxing your eyes closed. "What are you thinking about, little love?"

"Just how lucky I am."

"I would argue I'm the lucky one, but I suppose we can share," he smiles; he continues to read to you and massage your scalp until you're puddy against his body, sleep having all but consumed you. The night settles into a tranquil symphony, the warmth of shared love lingering in the serenity.

Okay I know it was a bit cheesy, but I needed so fluffy shit today. Anyway, tell me what you thought I love talking with y'all.

Taglist: heartfully10, ayselluna, marina-and-the-memes

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion #bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion imagine #bg3 astarion #reader insert #fanfic #writing #frantic fiction #bg3 fic #bg3 tav #bg3 x tav

[moriwood]

Pornographs — p.js

park jongseong x male reader heavy angst 1.4k words

Two freelance pornstars have gotten awfully close with each other over the past year, masked to their audiences but almost unveiled to each other. Jay, who you suddenly realize to be less familiar than you originally thought, gives you a symbolic gift and a promise you wish he truly keeps.

includes: crying and cringy lines (again oops), people getting reallyyyyyyy personal warning: n/a i think :]]

Your body may not be molded from Ancient Greek statues like your contemporaries in the industry but you know well enough how to manipulate your camera. You know how to position yourself, so that your masked face gently cradles the sunlight and your soft gaze glosses smooth as the silk blanket covering your body.

You assess each of the photos you took and smirk proudly. “Who won’t be salivating over pics like this?” you boast, already seeing the comments flood your mind. 

Another photoshoot session has been finished thanks to your friend Jay, who you have been collaborating with for the past year. Your account was only a few months old, with barely a hundred followers watching you strip anonymously. You don’t even know what went into your mind when you decided to meet up with a blank profile but it seems like you hit the jackpot when it turned out to be Jay. It’s not like you were even in the position to be picky about which men you met with back then.

“You good?” you ask Jay as he folds over the hotel’s bedspread that you accidentally stripped off while taking photos a while ago.

He nods, sighing as he lies on the king size bed you share. “Don’t your fans get mad I’m the only other guy in your posts for the past few months?” he curiously asks.

“I mean, they already think we’re dating,” you pause in indignation, “why have you been meeting me exclusively then? For sure, you’ve been receiving offers too left and right.”

“Sorry for them but I have already signed an exclusivity contract with this world-renowned photographer. With his impeccable tastes, I fear nobody can compare,” Jay teases.

You cackle. You would have long forgotten this life of being a social media pornstar had it not been for him. In between the men who only saw you as some toy being passed around, here is Jay who stays, sharing these chaste moments with you, no matter how short it lasts.

Jay grabs the camera from your lap and murmurs to himself, tracing his fingers along the scratches on its plastic body. He meets your eyes with an indiscernible emotion.  “You’ve had this camera for so long, don’t you want to replace it?” 

“I don’t think I’ve earned enough with this career yet,” you lament, “you don’t know how many meals I skipped to buy this.”

“Isn’t it a great investment though? Like you’re really great with the camera,” Jay explains, “and you can definitely do more than just artistic nudes, like legit filmmaking. Imagine the two of us, co-directing, that type of shit.”

“If I had the money, I wouldn’t be posting nudes of myself online, Jay,” you deadpan. “Why are you even asking? You're gonna sell me a secondhand camera?”

“Nah, just asking. We should be going to college but we’re here… filming porn.”

Jay carefully places your camera on the bedside table and reaches for his carelessly placed backpack on the floor. From it he pulls out a large red box, your gaze immediately drifting towards it.

“Okay, don’t be surprised. I may or may not have something to give you,” Jay smiles.

Your eyes widen as you realize that Jay has bought a new camera, the receipt taped to it rubbing its expensive price to your face. 

You howl. “What the fuck? Aren’t we earning the same… You're way richer than I am! You even booked this hotel-”

“Just take this,” he calmly says, placing the bright red box on top of your lap. He then sits beside you, caressing your thigh.

“Why are you even giving me this? What do you need from me? Do I owe you something?” you shyly ask, mesmerized by the details of the new camera Jay just bought. Newly released, might actually be the most expensive model in the market right now. You can’t think of a reason to own something of this kind when all that you’ve taken are these tasteless nude photos.

“Think of it as a birthday gift or something,” Jay hesitantly replies.

“It’s not even my birthday yet,” you whisper, attempting to stop yourself from bursting into tears. You just didn’t expect this generosity from the only person who you’ve let into this taboo life of yours. 

“This might be the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” you smile in between your teary eyes. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“I’m not asking for anything in return, just…”

Jay is at a loss for words. There’s something wrong, you notice, a lilt in his voice.

“It’s not a birthday gift, is it?” you worriedly ask, your hand over Jay’s.

Jay looks away. “I don’t think… This might be the last time we’re seeing each other.”

Now you’re at a loss for words. Whatever feeling was boiling within the depths of your heart, you never really knew who Jay was. Both of you were about to enter college, both with a fondness for film and photography… and it ends there. You mask yourselves for your audience and even in this inviting bed, there are a lot of things the both of you are unaware of. Seems like this chapter is closing for Jay.

“But we can still see each other-”

Jay closes his eyes, in fear of the pain he cannot avoid. “Just… don’t forget me. Use this camera while I’m gone. Then we’ll meet again, and I’ll be looking at everything. We’ll cross paths, I promise.”

You don’t understand why you’re so confused. You don’t understand why you want to curse the world for not giving you the chance to know Jay in a different context. Your other hand starts to grip on the bedspread, wrinkling it again. You want to know where Jay’s coming from, why he’s even doing this. Had you met him under another circumstance, you wouldn’t be facing this farewell now. You wouldn’t be mulling over where the line is drawn, until where can you walk with him, and until when can the both of you ignore the lines that are slowly being erased.

“But you don’t have to-”

Jay pulls you in as you sob, embracing you tightly. And if his lips meet yours for the first time you’ve been together, nobody says anything about it. Light and sweet, but you taste the bitterness in the salt in your tears. Jay is the first man you’ve kissed. Regret shames you that you only got the chance to reveal each other’s hearts in your final meeting.

“Jay,” you beg, “please.”

You caress his thigh, attempting to touch beneath his shorts. He pulls it back and holds it tightly.

“Let’s not do things we’ll regret,” he whispers, cradling your face with his hand, attempting to wipe away the tears running down your cheeks. “I’ll come back, I’ll make sure of that. And I’ll take you out on a date like you always said you wanted to do.”

This is no longer a simple film of them, a scandal for others to lust over, something to make profit of. No scripts and no acting at play. You know that there is a man who flirts better, kisses better, fucks better, but you don’t want to let him go. You know Jay in an unfamiliar manner, and your relationship grew with him in a way more unknown way. In a different world, you would have loved to love a man like Jay.

You can only whisper, “I hope you’re happy wherever you are, Jay.”

He weakly grins as he kisses you again. “Jongseong. My name’s Jongseong.”

The sun has set, hunger and thirst long forgotten. The both of you soon fall asleep in tears, and you weren’t surprised to find the spot next to you cold the morning after. His traces are nowhere to be found, the only remnants being the photos and videos of a masked man in your camera. His phone number cannot be reached, only his messages of pleasantries remaining. And on top of the bedside table is the new camera gifted by Jay… by Jongseong.

author’s note: here's ur jay fic @ldrei 🤗 i actually got a reason ready for why jay did what he did, just gotta handle my own college shit rn before i flesh it out i apologize ✨

— moriwood.

#enhypen x male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #enhypen x reader #park jongseong x reader #park jongseong x male reader #angst #heavy angst #flash fiction #jay x male reader #jay x reader #mori fics

[gamebunny-advance]

Yogurt Progress 2

Alt title: “Feeling the Violence Today”

No pics today, but I’ve made a little more progress on Yogurt. I added a strawberry to the tip of his tail and added some wiring so it’s poseable now! (I kinda don’t like that the tail is a different material from the fur, but such as it is). His face is all baked and ready to paint, so as long as my motivation doesn’t leave me, the face should be done by tomorrow. Besides that, today has been a big day for more brainstorming.

Since the original idea of making the bib is falling through, I’ve decided to lean even more into the alien theme by adding more stellar details (it’s just not a Gbunny customization unless I stick a bunch of random crap to it). So the void of clothing is gonna be replaced with star sprinkles and glitter.

With the “baby” part of the theme all but abandoned, the rattle seems a bit out of place now, but I still want there to be a shaker feature, so I got the idea to turn the rattle into a ray-gun. So yeah, I guess Yogurt is an alien invader now.

I dunno how I’m gonna make that happen with the materials I’ve got, but I think the ultra light sculpey might work. I’m just worried that once it's baked, the shapes will change and I won’t be able to easily glue them onto the rattle, and or gluing them onto the rattle is just gonna look bad since it’s transparent. But, I’m gonna sketch some ideas tomorrow and cross my fingers that it’ll work out.

I also got the great idea to invoke an udder by adding strawberry teats, but you’re just gonna have to wait and see what I mean by that.

#gbunny makes #yogurt the strawberry cow #my mom saw me working on this and asked if it was a pikmin #she doesn't play games with me anymore so i was pleasantly surprised that she remembered what that was #pikmin was pretty big in my house #tbh when i thought of adding the alien theme #i did think of pikmin #because the fictional band that things 'ai no uta' is called 'strawberry flower' #and the pikmin flowers do somewhat resemble strawberry flowers #if i could add a voice box i might have him play ai no uta #but that's (possibly) for next plush #yes i've thought of another project but that one won't be anytime soon #i finally came up with an idea for that B/T/S/ bunny i got forever ago #i think it's a cool idea #but it's gonna be even more work than this one #i feel like every one of these gets just a little more ambitious #i've gotta start selling them though #i'm running out of room #anyone interested in neapolipuppy? XP #i really need to take more pics of them #maybe redo some of the icing details and get the cherry unstuck

[blazinbeautywrites]

Freaky Friday

Note: Due to the rampant uprising of plagiarism on  this site and others I am stating once and once only that this is my  ORIGINAL work. If I find out that you have stolen/taken any part of my  work I will handle you and the situation the way I see fit.

None of the pics or gifs I use belong to me unless stated otherwise. Full credit goes to the originators of said gifs and pics.

A/N: IT’S FINALLY FRIDAY! What better person to end my Smut Week challenge than my main baby Christopher. You can find my og post about the Smut Week challenge here. Hope you all enjoyed it!

Length: 1,169 words

Genre: Smut

Jasmine was so nervous. She finally agreed to trying anal with Christopher. It was something Christopher asked her to do but she initially shut it down. She warmed up to the idea after she watched a porno where a girl got fucked in the ass and it seemed enjoyable. Christopher was thrilled and immediately took her out shopping for the essentials. Jasmine had no idea what she got herself into but she knew she’d be good as long as he was there to take care of her.

                                                ____________

“Chris! Was it really necessary to get all of this lube?” Jasmine asked as she was currently going through the bag of items they got from their local sex shot. Chris bought at least 6 different bottles of lube. Most of which were warming lubes that warm when it contacts skin. Christopher felt as though they’d be the most pleasant as they have a warming sensation.

“Yes babe we do. I wanna try out every flavor eventually.” Christopher said as he smiled at her. I mean how could she say no to that face.

                                                ____________

“Yes baby right there, oh my god…...fuck….ahhhhh.” Jasmine moaned. Christpher was currently eating her out like he was starving. He’d added a finger in her ass to loosen her up for him. He wanted her to get accustomed to the foreign sensation of having something in her other hole. 

“You taste so fucking sweet baby.” He moaned as he left her pussy and crawled up her body and kissed her. Jasmine loved tasting her juices on his lips and got even wetter as they made out.

“I’m ready for you baby.” Jasmine spoke against his mouth.

“I know you’re ready but I’ve been dying to get my mouth on that tight little asshole. Now, get on your hands and knees.” Chris demanded. Jasmine did as she was told and Christoher groaned. She was drippintopherg with arousal. He gave her lips a sensual kiss, eliciting a moan from her. He then rubbed his thumb over her puckered asshole, just waiting for him to invade. He pushed his thumb in and heard a soft sigh and felt Jasmine arch her back and stick her ass out more. He moved his thumb in and out at a moderate pace as he felt her asshole tighten around his finger. He pulled his thumb out and replaced it with his tongue. He ate her ass with just as much passion and vigor as he did her pussy.

“Yes baby. Shit that feels so fucking good.” Jasmine pushed herself back on his tongue, fucking herself as he ate her ass. After he was satisfied he’d opened her up enough. Christopher grabbed a bottle of strawberry lube. He rubbed a generous amount on his dick then dropped some down Jamine’s crack. She moaned at the warm feeling and Christopher smacked her ass cheeks. He positioned himself at her entrance and rubbed her lower back.

“Okay baby I’m gonna slide in now and I need you to relax.” Christopher said as he began to enter her tight hole. Jasmine tried to relax as best as she could.

“Oooooo…...god…...fuck.” She moaned as Christopher slid in further. Once he completely bottomed out inside of her, Christopher had to stop. She was so wet, tight, and warm that Christopher almost came right to them and there. He started to moan and a string of moans left both of their mouths. Christopher had to remind himself not to bust too quickly. He wanted to enjoy this but her tightness wasn’t making it easy for him.

“Shit you’re so fucking tight.” Christopher said as he sped up his movements.

“You’re fucking me so good daddy, fuuuck.” Jasmine sighed as she felt him pound into her. She looked back at him then spread her ass cheeks so Christopher got a full view of himself disappearing inside of her ass and he was amazed. She was taking him so fucking well and Christopher couldn’t take it anymore. He shot a fat load deep into her ass. Jasmine smiled as she watched her man come undone. She started fucking herself on his dick, chasing her own orgasm. She felt herself nearing her climax when she started rubbing her clit fervently. She lost her arch as she deepened her arch as she took Christopher further into her ass. She gave her clit a few more sharp, quick rubs before she was cumming, hard. “AHHH AHHHHHH FUUUUUUCCCCKKKKOHMYGOOOOODDDDDD.” Jasmine screamed. Next thing she knew, everything went black.

                                                    ____________

Jasmine awoke to movement on her left side. She turned around and saw Christopher climbing into bed.

“‘Well hey there sleepy head.” He mumbled against her lips as he kissed her.

“Chris, baby what happened?” She asked, sitting up. She looked around and realized she was in her guest room. She felt the dull ache in her ass and smiled.

“Well, you blacked out. You squirted…..ALOT. Like you were a fucking leaky faucet. Then the next thing I know I hear you snoring. So I moved you here to the guest room and threw your bedding in the washer.” Christopher finished.

“Woooow. Shid well if that’s how I went out then I am definitely okay with that. Plus, the dick was way too good so you should be proud you knocked me the fuck out.” She said, leaning in to kiss him. As she bent over she felt his cum seep from her hole. She stuck a finger in her ass and brought it to her mouth, making a show of her sucking his cum off of her fingers.

“I want to try something. You trust me?” Christopher asked.

“Of course I do.” Jasmine replied. Christopher pushed her onto her stomach. He gave her ass a slap then soothed the area. He opened her ass cheeks, bent down and began licking her hole. He saw his seed leaking out of her and dipped his tongue into his own cum. He began sucking her asshole, slurping up his nut and spitting it out all over her ass. He sucked some more, holding it in his mouth. He flipped her over and pulled her to him. He used his thumb to part her lips and when her mouth was open he spit his cum into her mouth. He slapped her cheek softly, urging her to swallow. Once he was satisfied and saw her mouth empty, he kissed her again. Their tongues mingled and once he’d had enough he pulled her by her hair and looked her deep in her eyes.

“You like that baby?” He asked, brushing her now messy hair out of her face.

“I fucking loved it. You’re so nasty babe.” Jasmine whispered.

“Only for you baby. Only for you.” He spoke. That’s how their late night, early morning went. They alternated between fucking and giving eachother amazing head, until they tired themselves out and finally went to sleep. Christopher was happy she enjoyed herself and was happy that they finally got a chance to spice up their sex life.

#christopher velez #cnco #christian yu scenarios #cnco scenarios

[lesbianlovelanguage]

YOUTUBER AU I’m such a fucking sucker for those. It can be anything you want really. Maybe they are friends doing a challenge or something and they end up kissing (or more ;)) or they could meet each other at like a creator even and take a pic together and everyone starts to ship them... :)

HI! Anon I am so sorry, life has been *general handwaving* a MESS. But, I’ve finally gotten most of my shit together and look! A fic! Finally!!! I hope you enjoy two ridiculous boys being ridiculous.

---

“You guys asked for it, and here it is. The explanation to Bendy and the Ink Machine! Now, I’ve watched a ton of playthroughs of this, especially The RatKing’s, as well as played through it myself, and I think I’ve got it.” 

Such a simple statement, it made it through both of the editors as well as Steve and Dustin themselves without raising any red flags. But as with everything, once it had been released on the internet it became fuel for fans to break apart and over analyze. 

The comments started pouring in, the standard mix of support and people trying to break apart his theory. But one comment in particular would stand out and begin something so much bigger than itself. 

Twenty minutes after Steve had pressed upload, someone with the username Random Hoe posted a comment saying Awe! A collab between you and Billy would be totes amazing!! While an innocent comment in itself, it began to pick up steam as people ranted and demanded for the two popular youtubers to interact more. It turned from video ideas to outright shipping within two hours, and only five hours after the video had been up, people began tagging Steve on Twitter with everything from edited screen grabs to fanart and video edits, all about Steve and Billy’s secret yet undying love for each other. 

Steve had almost quit Youtube as the fanbase for what had been dubbed “Stilly” steadily grew and became all the more ravenous. There were less and less comments and reactions to his theories, whether movie, video game, or even book related, and more and more comments about how he needed to do a collab with Billy ASAP, and how he’s queerbaiting, and how it’s okay to come out, it was 20Gayteen after all. He had tried to do damage control, but it only made things worse. 

And then someone showed Billy, and Steve not only wanted to quit Youtube, but also crawl under a rock. 

Billy’s only reaction to someone sending him a picture of Steve and Billy during a live stream was “Nice art, like the hair,” but Steve could have sworn his mouth twitched down in a grimace before Billy recovered his composure. 

But Dustin had convinced Steve to keep going, and with two months of no recognition or new content, the frenzy of Stilly shipping died down. It never disappeared, but no one sent anymore art to Billy and stopped tagging Steve in all of their posts. That had been in February. 

Vidcon was in June, and Stilly was the least of Steve’s worries. He’d been asked to host a panel on the new game show he and Dustin had begun hosting on Youtube TV about pop culture trivia, and then host a live episode with various Youtube guests as competitors. It promised to be relatively simple, a simple explanation of the origin and behind-the-scenes and a simple Q&A session followed by what he spent every Thursday doing for the past two months. And it was, him and Dustin breezing through the panel bouncing off of each other and the first round of Did You Know? You Don’t Say? flying by as the famed beauty guru aced almost every question. But once the second guest stepped on stage, Steve knew it was all going to go to shit. 

Because Billy Hargrove, The Rat King himself, swaggered out on the stage in flip flops and an Everlast crop top and flopped into the contestant’s chair with a smirk. Steve froze, mouth suddenly drier than a desert. 

Luckily, Dustin didn’t even stutter. “Ah! The next victim. Should we go easy on him?” He waggled his eyebrows as he asked the audience. The audience shouting brought Steve out of his daze, and with a shake of his head, he turned and spread his arms out wide. 

“Well then, let’s begin. So, Billy, Do you know what the rarest MnM color is?” 

The cocky smirk melted off of Billy’s face, replaced by one of thoughtful determination. He’s silent for only a moment before he looks up and says, “Brown, like your eyes, Pretty Boy.” Steve feels his pale skin flush with heat, but he coughs and tries to play it off.

“Quite the charmer there, Rat King. Luckily, your lines are actually true. One point! Let’s see it!” He calls out and then looks behind him to the television screen currently displaying the scoreboard. A large blocky 1 appears and the audience cheers. 

“Alrighty then,” Dustin says after the crowd dies down. “Next question. Billy, Do you know the original name of Istanbul?” Billy chuckles, and shakes his head.

“Easy. Constantinople.”

Dustin fake pouts and looks over to Billy. “None of that Rat King charm for me?” The audience laughs, and Billy chuckles before throwing a wink at Dustin.

“Not quite old enough to ride this ride, bud.” 

Dustin scoffs and shakes his head, making the curls bounce around wildly. “Whatever you say, old man. You did get it right by the way. Let me see another point!” Dustin mimics Steve and gestures towards the scoreboard which now shows a big, white 2. 

“Your turn, Pretty Boy. Give me something hard.”

“Alright. Let’s see.” Steve pretends to look over his notes before seeing the perfect question. “So, Billy, Do you know which two American states don’t observe daylight savings time?” Billy stares blankly at Steve. This was the final question in their lineup, but he had asked for a hard question. 

Luckily, Billy recovers quickly and clears his throat before giving another chuckle. “Damn, I know I said give me a hard one, but I wasn’t expecting that. I’m gonna go with Hawaii and Alaska?” Steve shakes his head and gives a small sigh. 

Dustin gives a little cheer, and then runs over to a table off to the side of the stage where they have a cue card that the contestant has to read off of if they lose. It was Dustin’s idea, the You don’t say? part of the title. It’s his favorite part of the show, because they get to see their contestants say some ridiculous things.

“Well, unfortunately, that was incorrect,” Steve announces over the booing audience. “And, following the rules, you now have to read whatever is on this card.” Dustin hands Billy the cue card with a wicked grin. 

Billy sighs and flips over the card. There’s a moment of silence as he reads over what the card says, and then he looks up at Steve and clears his throat.

“Would a Pretty Boy want to go out with me?” He says in a clear voice, gaze never leaving Steve’s. 

Suddenly too many things for Steve to process happen at once. He feels the heat return to his cheeks and his mouth dry out again, the audience goes wild, and a buzzer sounds, signaling that they were out of time for Did You Know? You Don’t Say? Dustin comes through and pushes a frozen Steve off-stage, where Billy is waiting in the wings. With the audience’s weighty gaze gone, the feeling returns to Steve all at once.

“What the hell man? What was that out there?” He hissed at Billy. The man simply shrugs and gives another one of his trademark smirks.

“Just giving the people what they want, Princess. Try to keep up.” And then he turns around, and walks away. Simple as that. Nothing to it. 

Steve wants to scream. Fortunately, he and Dustin have been friends for years, and he knows all of Steve’s tics by now. The stagehands shoo them from the wings, and he pulls Steve through one of the backdoors to outside the convention center. Somehow, he also procures a water bottle in the hustle, and hands it to Steve once they’re both sitting on the steps outside. Steve takes the water bottle gratefully and chugs half of it in one long gulp. He pulls it away and wipes at his face before sighing. He seems to deflate, like a balloon losing all of its helium at once, and Dustin puts an arm around him. It’s awkward because he’s shorter than Steve, but it’s still comforting nonetheless. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Dustin asks quietly.

“I- I’m so stupid. For just a second I thought it was real, but why would it be? What would someone like him see in someone like me?” Dustin lets out a huff before pulling away and turning towards Steve.

“Steve, buddy, pal o’ mine. You’re an idiot. If anything, he doesn’t deserve you. He’s a pompous ass for pulling a stunt like that. It’s bullshit.” 

“He could have anyone. Between his paycheck and his pecs, he’s one of Youtube’s hottest content creators.”

“Yeah, sure. But for the sake of alliteration, he also lacks personality. The guy’s a huge dick! And he proved it today. He knew that you wouldn’t shut him down and bitch him out on stage, so he thought it would be funny to pull that shit.”

“Yeah, he is kind of just a publicity-seeking asshole, you’re right,” Steve admits, feeling a little better, and a lot angrier. “You know what, Dusty-Poo? I’m gonna find him, and give him a piece of my mind.” He stands up, itching for a fight and knowing who to go find for one.

“Tha-that’s not exactly what I meant but sure! Go knock him down a peg.” Dustin stands up as well and follows Steve back onto the main showfloor. 

It takes about twenty minutes to find Billy amongst the crowd but Steve sees him, and locks in like a tiger stalking his prey. Or something cool like that. Thankfully, Steve doesn’t have to make a huge scene as he walks up to Billy and gets in his face. 

“You. Me. Conference Room 3. Now,” Steve says, poking a finger in the middle of Billy’s chest to emphasize his point. Billy chuckles, but still follows along as they walk into the empty conference room. Once they clear the doors and Steve hears them swing shut behind them, he turns to Billy.

“Explain. What the fuck was the point of that little,” he wavs his hand around, “stunt you pulled during the game show?” 

Billy raises an eyebrow. “Told you Pretty Boy. I gave the people what they wanted. 

“So that’s it? It was a publicity stunt?” 

“You tell me. You’re the one who started the whole thing,” Billy shoots back, still holding on to an air of nonchalance, but Steve can his patience waning.

“You- you mean the stuff from February? When I happened to mention you in one video? You think I meant for that shitstorm to start, for fun and publicity?” 

Billy only shrugs again.

“Okay. Nope. Again, I mentioned your channel one time, as a source. Gave credit where credit was due. I do it for all the channels I watch! I’ve mentioned Nancy’s channel like 8 times, and Jonathan’s too. Never had this shit started with them.”

“They’re married, Steve. Like super married. Of course it wouldn’t. We’re both single, queer youtubers. Of course shit’s gonna stop. Didn’t your agent or whoever look over your video?”

Steve huffs. “Oh yeah, let me just go hire an agent, cause I have such a need for someone to monitor my every move,” Steve snarked. Billy just looked at him like he had failed to add 2 and 3.

“You’re telling me you, part of one of the biggest channels on Youtube, don’t have an agent?” 

“We’re not one of the biggest channels, and we’ve never needed one! We’ve got our team of editors and assistants, no need for some agent.”

“Steve,” Billy says patiently, like he was explaining something to a child, “You have over 4 million subscribers. That’s a big channel.” 

“We’re still not one of the biggest channels, dipshit.”

“Oh, I'm the dipshit? I didn’t start a fucking fandom frenzy apparently by accident. Because I was smart and got a fucking agent.”

“You’re such an asshole.” 

“Whatever you say Princess.”

“Stop fucking calling me a princess!” Steve screams, voice booming in the silent conference room. “Why do you do that? Pretty Boy, Princess, Stevie? Just- just stop with the fucking nicknames. It’s not fair.” The second part of his outburst comes out as a whisper, sounding almost desperate. 

Billy was at a loss for words, but then again, he had always been more of a man of action. 

So he says nothing, only gives a seconds’ thought of what he was going to do, before lunging forward and doing it. 

Steve’s next words are muffled as Billy crashes their lips together with absolutely no finesse, teeth clacking. It probably constituted as the worst kiss Billy has ever had, but as he moves back, Steve grabs a fist full of blond locks and pulls him forward. Their 

second kiss is far better. By no means is it soft, but that was just par for the course with them wasn’t it? 

The kiss comes to a natural ending as they both pull back to breath, before Steve starts to giggle. 

“You really need to work on your pick-up lines, Rat King.”

A soft gasp from the doorway cuts off Billy’s retort, and they both turn to see a girl decked out in Youtube merch, including a jacket with the Upside Down Theories logo on it. She had dropped her backpack, and was open-mouthed gaping at the two. Her eyes are as wide as dinner plates as she frantically gathers up her backpack and shoots out of the conference room. 

“Chances that this blows up online by tomorrow?” Steve asks, turning to the blond next to him. 

“I’m betting in the next two hours, Pretty Boy,” Billy replies.

A wicked smirk creeps onto Steve’s lips as he shrugs and says, “Oops. What was that about getting an agent to help with this stuff?” 

---

Aside from this taking FOREVER, I hope you guys enjoy this! It was tons of fun to write.

tag team: @lostnoise @gideongrace @stevefuckingharrington @a-magey @catharrington @trashycatarcade @myboyfriendsteve @thesummerof84 @lightsupinthenorth @smashmouth-hargrove (lmk if you would like to be added/removed from the list!)

#tay writes #AGAIN FINALLY #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #youtuber au #anon asks #tons of fun to write!!!

[momentofmemory]

FICTOBER 2020 - day twenty-five

Prompt #25: “Sometimes you can even see.”

Fandom: The Old Guard

Characters: Nile Freeman, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani

Words: 1937

Author’s Note: In the aftermath of a rough mission and all the philosophical questions it entails, Joe takes Nile to the Aarhus Art Museum in Denmark. All pieces mentioned were displayed in the Objects of Wonder: From Pedestal to Interaction exhibit, which ran from Oct. 2019- March 2020. Nile POV.

>> the sweetness remains

Nile scrolls mindlessly through Pinterest, wishing for not the first time that she’d been allowed to recreate her socials.

Copley had barred her from practically all of the actually useful ones, but she’d bullied him down to just having an account on Pinterest, with the argument being that no one cared about the site. Granted, she doesn’t really want to be on Pinterest either, but sometimes the comfort of an app with infinite scroll is all she’s looking for in a distraction.

And right now, she really, really needs to be distracted.

Overly photoshopped cat pics.

Memes ripped straight from tumblr or twitter.

The most white girl aesthetic imaginable.

Three slugs ripping through her abdomen and spitting her liver out the other side—

Nile breathes in sharply. Exhales.

Her thumb resumes scrolling.

Photos of downtown that feel like home.

Recipes for harvest butternut squash soup.

Tips for keeping braids fresh longer.

Nile scrolls, and scrolls, and breathes.

Her abdomen still aches every time her lungs expand, even though she knows it really doesn’t. It’s perfectly healed; not even a scar for her troubles. But it’s hard to forget how her instincts had screamed that a gut shot like that shouldn’t be survivable, even as she pushed herself towards the next target.

(She didn’t survive it.)

(She didn’t survive the next half dozen times it happened, either.)

“Did that phone of yours do something to offend you?”

“Whoa!” Joe’s sudden appearance next to her only makes her clench her phone tighter. She forces out a laugh and eases the tension out of her fingers. “Feel like you should know better than to sneak up on someone that’s part of a bunch of immortal warriors.”

“Most of them would have caught me coming long before you did.”

Nile snorts. She scrolls a few more seconds, then closes the app and opens Temple Run. The game’s ridiculously old, but she’s a millennial. Sue her for being nostalgic.

She can feel Joe watching her as she starts the round.

“Am I correct in thinking you enjoy the arts, Nile?”

It’s not the question she was expecting, and she winds up tilting the screen to the left a half second late, and her character falls off the bridge.

It’s okay though, because she can just use a gem and respawn in the same place, so it’s basically like not dying at all.

Right?

“Uh, yeah,” she says. She winds up restarting the round entirely. “The military was supposed to pay for my degree, but I don’t think I can cash that if I’m technically KIA.”

“That would present a certain set of problems,” Joe agrees. “Andy talk to you about that?”

“Yeah.” Nile’s stomach twists. “Guess it depends on how easy it is to schedule classes between firefights.”

She’s practically laying the opening for a talk out herself, but Joe seems uninterested in taking it.

Instead, he shifts beside her, propping an elbow on his knee. “What kinds of art did you want to specialize in?”

She dies again. This time, she begrudgingly uses the in-game save. "I prefer classic sculpture, but I’m not against modern.”

“You like what was modern art for me, then.”

Nile rolls her eyes. “I dread the day I become as weird as you guys.”

He laughs, patting her on the shoulder as he stands. “I suspect by that time you’ll be too busy tormenting our next recruit. But unfortunately, the exhibit we’re going to will be more in the contemporary style.”

It takes Nile a half second to register his words. “Wait, what?”

“The description said it would be 1960s to the present only. If it suits you, we could hold off on our discussion of it for another thousand years or so. I’m sure we can claim it as classic at that point.”

“What?” Nile locks her phone and zeros her attention on him, registering the mischievous glint in his eyes this time. “Museum?”

“The Aarhus Art Museum has a special exhibit on loan from the Tate Modern at the moment.” He glances down at her phone, the corner of his mouth forming a grin. “I’m told its purpose is to help move its audience’s attention from their devices.”

Nile scowls and looks back down at her phone. “I died a dozen times yesterday. I’m allowed my coping mechanisms of choice.”

And.

Whoops.

“Of course you are,” Joe says, offering his hand to her, and she’s once again surprised he doesn’t force the conversation. “But phones are portable. You can take it with you to the museum.”

Nile worries at the edge of her lip with her teeth. She doesn’t really want to go anywhere right now, but…

But Joe’s brown eyes are warm and welcoming, and his callouses help steady her when she takes his hand.

“You said contemporary sculpture?”

The grin he gives her is blinding. “For now.”

_________________

It’s a twenty-five minute drive from their safe house to the museum, and the route takes them next to the Bay of Aarhus for most of it.

Nile stares out at the water, determined to not give Joe any more ammunition for making fun of her regarding her phone.

It’s hard. She’d never considered herself a technology addict—never had enough time to be one—but she really, really wants to stop thinking about the fact that she knows what the inside of her liver looks like.

Or did look like, she guesses.

Nope, nuh-uh, not going there—

“D'you know about the Ship of Theseus?” She spits it out before she can decide against it. She figures if she’s thinking about it, she might as well talk about it. “And don’t say you were there for it. You’re not Andy and I at least know enough about you to know when you’re lying.”

The grin on his face tells her that he was very much intending to before she called him out on it. “It’s a thought experiment. The character Theseus owns a ship that, over a long span of time, has all of its parts replaced, until nothing of the original still remains.”

“Yeah, and so then the question is, is it even the same ship,” Nile finishes.

Joe weaves in and out of traffic, a pensive look on his face. “I assume you aren’t asking simply to test my knowledge of early western philosophy.”

“No.”

Nile looks down at her hands. She can still remember how horrifically mangled they were from her impromptu dive off a skyscraper, but at least—at least she’s pretty sure they’re the same ones she had before.

Though that might not last long.

“In your opinion,” she says, cautiously, “if—if there’s nothing left of the original—if you have to rebuild something that many times—”

“Nile.” The sound of the car’s turn signal distracts her spiraling thoughts. Joe nods towards the windshield. “We’re here.”

It’s a large, red brick square building, fairly nondescript but for the circular and multi-colored glass walking track at its top.

“Come on, he says, parking the car. “I find physical objects superior to mental ones for solving such issues.”

Nile doesn’t understand why the one time she wants to talk about something like this is the one time Joe decides to go full mysterious.

She climbs out of the car and follows him inside.

Despite her misgivings, she quickly discovers Joe was right. The exhibit is genuinely incredible, and there are pieces from multiple names she recognizes—Anish Kapoor, Donald Judd, Rasheed Araeen—and pieces she finds herself strangely moved by, such as Damian Hirst’s Away from the Flock, Richard Long’s Red Slate Circle, Rachel Whiteread’s Airbed II. Nile stares at that last one in particular for a long time: a concrete casting of an airbed, the artist’s presence made known in the negative space where her body had pressed the material down.

Joe, however, seems to be moving with a specific purpose in mind, and it’s not until they round one of the walls of the orange-pink room that Nile has a guess as to what it is.

In the far corner, bathed in the additional light of a single fill light, is a massive pile of multicolored cellophane wrapped hard candies.

Joe walks her over to it, an almost reverence to his steps.

“Untitled: Portrait of Ross in LA,” he says. “Are you familiar with the piece?”

She shakes her head, bending down to inspect it. It doesn’t look like much more than what she’d seen from a distance—candy, multicolored, on the floor. She looks to Joe for an explanation.

“Felix Gonzalez-Torres’s partner died from AIDS,” Joe says. The grief on his face is hard to look at. “To honor him, he made this as a portrait—one hundred and seventy-five pounds of candy, representing Ross’s weight from when he was still healthy.”

Nile looks at the pile—it’s a lot, but it’s not a hundred and seventy-five pounds worth of a lot.

Joe notices her confusion and smiles. “Take one.”

“What?”

“Take one,” he repeats. “The purpose of the work is to invite you to partake in both enjoying his presence and lamenting the lack of it. A sort of communion—choosing to take part of his body into your own. It was a powerful statement when so many were afraid to even be in our presence at the time.”

Nile looks at the pile again, and just like with Airbed II, her heart aches at what isn’t there, rather than what is. She selects a red piece and brings it out of the pile, cupping it in her hand and considering its weight.

“What happens when it runs out?”

Joe selects his own piece—a green one—and it rolls around in the palm of his hand. “It has. Many times. But that’s the beauty of it—it’s the curator’s responsibility to replenish the pile, metaphorically granting immortality and new life to the loss.”

The cellophane crinkles in Nile’s hand as she unwraps the piece. “How do they decide where to get the candy from?”

“The only firm rule is the original weight. Outside of that, there are no set instructions for the candies themselves.” He chuckles, threading his fingers behind his neck and leaning back against the wall. “Sometimes you can even see these strange combinations of greens, oranges, and purples.”

Nile considers the candy. “Not your favorite?”

“It has an almost Halloween quality to it. I tend to prefer the rainbow.”

The candy in her hand feels heavier than it did before—weighed down with the knowledge of what it represents, what it’s taking away.

She slips the candy into her mouth and her eyebrows raise in surprise. “It’s sweet?”

“It’s candy,” Joe says, unwrapping his own piece. “Did you expect something else?”

“I thought it’d be…” She pauses, trying to parse out her feelings. “Bitter. Or sad, somehow. Considering.”

“It could have been,” Joe agrees. “But the portrait isn’t meant to represent just grief and loss. Candy is a happy thing—a reward for yourself, or a lover’s gift on Valentine’s. And even when it’s gone, the sweetness remains. Still lingering on the tongue, or dwelling in the mind. It is the love of friends and partners that keeps the memory alive—and what keeps this the same portrait, even though its pieces have been cycled through many times.”

The candy melts away on her tongue, and she closes her eyes in grief for its loss, appreciation for what it was, and hope for the pieces that would come after it.

She swallows the last piece of it down.

Her stomach settles.

#fictober20 #fanfiction #the old guard #nile freeman #yusuf al-kaysani #joe | yusuf al-kaysani #philosophy and art #memsfic

[bodyswap101]

Mate, I’m thrilled your here. You don’t realise how much this means to me. Ive spent days thinking of what to say in this meeting, and months tossing between carrying on with all this and giving it all up. I’ve spent hours preparing my body today to make sure it looks perfect for you. I even got brand new kit and boots just for you, even the ball is new, but of course I couldn’t resist putting it all on. I couldn't resist, I have a bit of a fettish for footy kit. I haven’t looked this good in months, but this tan, it’s natural bumpy the way, and I don’t have any white bits anywhere.

Hey man, that all sounds really intense, you said you wanted to talk to me about joining the soccer team. Instead your telling me about your beauty regime.

Well I do want you to join the soccer team

So why you telling me about giving things up and how you’ve been preparing your body and shit. It all sounds a bit gay. Have you loured next here for some kinky sex?

Gay, no I’m not, but I have dabbled with a few guys in my time. And get over yourself, sure your good looking, but I’m not about to have sex with you.

So what then?

Well, I do want you to join the team, I think you’ll make a valuable asset to the team. I got promoted to captain last week and that’s when I decided enough was enough and I needed to move on. But I have a problem, and hats why I have been thinking about my future.

Go on.

My future isn’t in soccer, it’s in technology. I want to make a break with some ideas I have.

Ok

But, I’m trapped here. I’ve been running this body, this life for 20 years. But it’s not me anymore.

I still don’t get you, you seem to be trying to tell me something but not actually saying it.

Right, this body, it looks early to mid 20s yer?

Yep I’d say 22 ish

Ok, well I’m 48, I took over this body when I was 28. So it should surprise you to learn that this life has been around for around 1000 years and this body has many decades on this planet. It does not age, it can not age. It is going to live forever, it can't get damaged. It never gets ill, never breaks a leg. It never even gets a paper cut. I can feed it immense amounts of food and it will never get fat. I can drink endless amounts of alcohol, feel drunk, but as soon as I wake up in fresh as a daisy again. It never changes, I can get muddy and sweaty and without taking a shower, I’m clean again. I never really need to worry about getting dressed. Whenever the body senses that it can not be seen, it gives me an instant shower, changes my clothes according to my schedule. I don’t need to get my hair cut, or trim my finger nails. I don’t need to go to the gym. If i want too, however, i can still do everything manually, In fact the body prefers it if I do. But i can change things if i want. Right now I’m in default mode, this is exactly how the body looked when the accident happened. With a few tweaks to suit the year being 2020 and not 1020. But i can ask the body to allow my hair to grow or prevent it growing my beard.

Ok, this is really freaky. Are you human? Ad what do you mean you took over it?

Yes this body is human, I'm human. It was some kind of accident 1000 hears ago that gave it immortality. When he original owner of this/ my body died, the body sought a new host for it. It found that in it's first ’victim’. He was a suicide case who tried to kill himself, this body stole his soul before it went to the after life. He apparently tried to kill himself in this body around 50 times before the body chose to reject him once he promised to find him a new host. Now the body allows souls to leave providing they find a new host for it. I'm hoping that new host is going to be you.

Ok, this is very freaky.

It's really not that freaky, not once you get used to it.

Okay, so what are you suggesting?

Well if your up for it, you can have all this, the body, the life and if your up for it, I’ll have yours.

And if I agree, what if I change my mind?

You can’t, if you agree now, there’s no going back to your old body, the only way out is to find a new willing host, just like I’m trying to do now.

I need time to think.

Sorry dude, it’s either we do it now or when you walk through that door, you forget today, the body won’t allow any knowledge outside of it.

Why have you picked me?

Simple, your young enough to have a body like what I want that I can mould into something more, but your also old enough to have a firm head on your shoulders. Your into sports, but a bit of a geek and got good grades at college and have managed to get a decent job. There’s a lot of others out there who I can ask, but you just seem to tick all the boxes. Mate, you don’t have to do it, I’m not telling or asking for you to give up what you have for me.

It’s a tough decision, I think I’ll do it. But first tell me how it happens.

Ok well that’s where my kit and boots fetish’s come in. This body has dna manipulators built into it. I can actually be transformed into another guy by wearing his kit and boots. It only works on kit and boots and as soon as I take them off I transform back into myself again. But this is why I needed to ensure the kit I was wearing today was new. I needed to make sure this kit only had this body’s dna within it. The ball, it will temporarily hold all the memories this body has and once our bodies have been manipulated they will transfer into you. After that, your stuck with this body, my life until you decide to leave and pass it on and I’m you. I still hold all the memories too from the last 1000 years, but I’m you, I take your body and life and live as you until I die.

More weirdness.

Honestly it’s not that weird. The dna is in the clothes. Wearing my clothes turns you into a double of me. Then my body absorbs the dna from your clothes and I’m turned into you. I pass you the ball and it’s over.

Yer but your clothes touching my body....

Don’t think about it, they aren’t dirty they are brand new.

Yes but the boxers your wearing have touched your junk, the socks your wearing have touched your feet. Them boxers, them socks are going to touch me,That’s just gross.

Dude, by the time my boxers are touching your junk, your junk won’t be your junk anymore, your feet won’t be your feet any more, they will be mine.

Ok, so how do I get your face, your arms and your hands?

Simple the boots, I don’t want you to wear these boots just yet. I need you to wear an older pair. I pair with more of my sweat, more of my dna in them. Wearing the older boots will transform anything not already transformed in an instant. And don’t panic, your not putting a pair of old boots onto your own feet, the feet going into the boots, that are already in these socks will already be mine. But just before you wear them, I’ll put them onto my un socked feet and that will make sure you receive the rest of my body exactly the way it is now.

One more thing. Let me see you before I agree to all this.

Sure thing, I’m guessing naked, but why?

Just want to make sure everything is there, no false legs, missing dicks that sort of thing.

Missing dicks, what the fuck?

You could be going through the change or anything for all I know.

I assure you I’m not, but here you go.

Ok all seems to be there, well if I think about this any more, I’ll regret it, so let’s do this. I’ve never played soccer in my life so putting on a soccer kit was going to be all new to me.

I stripped, and he handed me his pile of clothes, neatly folded and I handed him mine. I looked at them and grabbed the socks first and placed them onto my feet, over my ankles and up my legs. Everywhere they were touching was now warm, but it only lasted for seconds. I peered down the top of the socks and sure enough my short hairy pale stumps that resemble legs had been replaced with muscular, long, smooth tanned tree trunks. I put the boxers on, then the shorts and then the top. The warming continued and faded . The only thing left of me was my head, arms and hands. I could see he was just taking off an old looking pair of boots from his feet. He knelt down and put them onto my feet for me. The warming began again and it was only moments before I was fully transformed.

He took my clothes and with a massive grin on his face put the, on. I watched him change into me. As soon as he put my old trainers on he threw me the ball and I was instantly given all his memories and he was given mine.

I couldn’t be happier as I walked out of the changing rooms with my new body, life and kit.

Pleas let me know what you think

Thanks for the pic and ideas form @beachedkiwi

#male body swap #bodyswap #malebodyswap #male transformation #male tf #body swap #body suit #bodysuit

[abloomntime]

A Bloom In Time Ch21 Witch Hazelle and Timmy

(So there's this witch NPC in Nyakuza Metro and thought she'd be a good addition to the story and by popular demand Timmy! As he's gonna be an important key to Moonjumper later. The pics ain't mine, got it from A Hat In Time wiki.)

Well this garden was starting to at least LOOK decent....ish.

The giant ghost hovered above the area he picked out with seemed to be a pretty decent size away from any cursed statues, traps, or talking nooses or swamps. But also close enough to his home that he could get here at a moment's notice. The area was a fairly large decent size circled in by giant rocks to make an almost perfect wall around it. PERFECT place to have a mushroom garden, so carefully all the minions would dig holes large enough for the mushrooms they were carrying and placed them into their new home before being replanted. All kinds of shapes and sizes were placed down with the stone walls and a line of bushes were planted along with them. Leaving a pretty big area in the middle he...was still trying to figure out what to put as a center piece in the giant opening but for now he'd leave it plan. There was also a small corner of the garden that wasn't mushrooms or bushes. There was planted at least seven of those giant apple plants that grew giant purple apples like once a day. Wasn't much but what else could he do in a cursed forest? Well, they were far from done as this whole thing would take a while to complete, until then he had a few other things to worry about.  Like a new way to keep those girls out of the forest since his original plan backfired. But right now he could start by fixing this one dress of hers.

Snatcher had it all laid out on the floor of his home. Laying a hand on the upper half, he neatly drew a straight line across the wideth of the dress above all the tears and holes using one of his feathered pens. The dress would be about a foot shorter than it orginally wasbut it would still be very much fine for her to wear freely. Once he got done he reached over to grab at a pair of scissors, but didn't see the smaller pale hand grab it and yank it out of his reach. When Snatcher didn't feel the scissors, he turned his head in that direction but stopped seeing it wasn't anywhere where he left it.

"Looking for these?"

His face snapped to the female voice with a snarl but once the sight of the woman who DARED enter his home let alone his forest entered his vision he paused for maybe two seconds before that snarl turned into a deep scowl with narrowed eyes. "What are YOU doing here? Can't you see I'm busy?"

The brown haired woman shrugged twirling the scissors in her hand. "I could ask you the same thing, Snatchy." Her brow rose once her copper eyes glanced over at the dress he was attempted to fix. "You're a tailor now, or is this some kind of new hobby for you?"

"Neither! Gimme those!" He quickly Snatched the pair of scissors away from her still frowning and turned back to his work.

She faked a hurt expression and put a hand to her chest. "That hurts Snatchy. It really does. In all the five hundred years we've known each other you're still that cruel spirit you've always been."

"And you're still that annoying witch." She finally got him to turn his face towards the smiling witch dressed in white and pink and groaned. "We both know you're not here for no reason. What ARE you here for, Hazelle?"

"You got me.~" She smiled real smug like and had the audacity to walk over to his large red arm chair and plopped down in it. Leaning her head in one hand and crossing her legs. "Well, the usual. I wanted to stop by and grab some of these cursed vines for my supplies. Maybe grab some swamp water for my famous grab-o-war spells, comes in handy when someone doesn't want to pay their side of our bargains. And of course I was wondering why you haven't come by asking for more blue potions of the dead. You usually get a big supply every few weeks."

After a few seconds of frowning at her, Snatcher turned back to the dress in his claws and took the scissors. Starting at one side he started cutting along the drawn line as straight as possible. "A lot of things have happened in the past week."

"Hm. Like what? Nothing has really happened since that little alien came back." Her eyes glanced down to the dress again he was handling. That certainly wasn't any child's dress, too big, but it was just the right size for a grown woman her size. Smiling wider she chuckled. "Unless it's because you've been distracted by a pretty lady?~"

"WHAT?!" Any dweller or minion within range of his voice fled at the flare up of anger coming from their boss and he sure showed it when glaring at the witch but the yellow flush to his cheeks gave her any confirmation she needed as Hazelle sat there smiling through his tantrum. Snatcher dropped the scissors with a thump and pointed at her. "ABSOLUTELY NOT!!! WHAT THE ACTUAL PECK GAVE YOU THAT STUPID PECKING IDEA YOU FOOL!?"

"Well, considering that the dress you're working on is obviously a young lady's and the fact that your face is more yellow than a dandelion is telling me otherwise, Snatchy.~"

"DON'T CALL ME SNATCHY! YOU KNOW I HATE THAT,  WITCH!!" With a hiss he snapped back to the dress and continued on with his work as if nothing happened scowling...But Hazelle frowned.

"You know I was only kidding, Snatchy. I was genuinely curious about why you didn't come by to get any potions from me after saying you would. It's not like you." Her copper eyes glanced out of the ghost's home and towards the outside as if she was searching for something but didn't see anything beyond the normal dark cursed forest, and purple aura everywhere. " Some of your underlings out there have been gossiping." The ghost stopped but didn't look at her. "They're saying you have a new human girl working under you, which isn't too surprising since you've done this schtick before.....But I am finding it a bit strange you're helping one."

".....Where did you hear that?," he asked in a low tone.

"Like I said some of your little fellows out there are talking up a storm. And here I thought the dead all liked to rest in peace. But considering you're caught fixing an adult sized dress I'm assuming it's true?"

SNatcher went silent again. Not moving or looking at the woman behind him confirming or denying anything that was just asked. After a few tense silent moments of her staring at his back he began to move again but remained silent. His arms doing something she couldn't see since he had his back towards her but after a moment his arm made an upwards moment and she could see a large needle the perfect size for him and a light blue thread attatched to it. Which meant he was sewing some part of the dress after he cut some part of it off. Luckily for her, Hazelle was a patient woman and just kept silentlt watching him work from his comfy spot. After about ten minutes of this silence, the needle was bought down and he did something else she couldn't see. A moment later a sewing kit floated up from him and copper eyes watched it fly over to place itself on the book shelf he had in here. One moment later he leaned back up and his long arms held up the light blue dress, flapping it once to shake the loose dust off of it and looking over his handywork. The blue dress looked as good as new, no more holes or rips, even if it did have a few dirt and grass stands, but that was ok. It was a foot shorter too but all in all, not bad if he did say so himself. Once again his amazing skills had saved the day, Poppy should be happy she won't have to be needing to replace her old dress anytime soon. More relaxed, Snatcher hung the dress over one of his arms and turned to Hazelle still staring at him patiently. The two stared at each other for a moment, before she spoke up.

She pointed a hand at him. "Something big is going on here. I can tell by that look on your face, old friend. You can't fool me."

"Why would I tell you? Nothing's happened. 'Sides. Nothing here I can't handle!" He huffed and reached one of his long arms over to drop the blue dress over the back of the red chair above her head. It was a big armchair.

"Do you know how much you contradicted yourself in those few sentences?" She rolled her eyes and leaned over. "Come on. You KNOW I ALWAYS find out one way or another eventually whether it's by you or me prodding around a bit."

"Anyone ever tell you you're a pain!?"

"All the time, Snatchy.~ But, c'mon. You know I'm right anyways. I'll meet her eventually, so spill." She leaned back all comfy like in the chair smiling that grin. "I got all eternity now.~ Something about one of those minions saying time piece sounds interesting. What'd I miss?"

Well....She wasn't wring about that. Or the fact that if he DIDN'T tell her, Hazelle would most definately find out and it was ALWAYS more hard for him to deal with things when she found out things on her own, so.....He spilt the beans. All of it. From him stupidly 'borrowing' a time piece(which Hazelle called him a dummy for doing) to finally getting it all resolved, and now...His situation with Poppy and how exactly she ended up with them. Leaving out just a few details like his embarrassing crawl, or the fact he was planting a garden for Poppy. Hazelle would tease him for that for sure. She also DEFINATELY didn't need to know about his true feelings for her so he have told her about him being strictly friends with her and trying to make things right with her once and for all. By the end of his brief and blunt explanition Hazelle was giving him a surprised look.

"So...Let me get this straight." She pointed at him. "You had this great...*cough cough* dumb*cough* idea to use MAGIC ALIEN TECHNOLOGY that no one besides that alien to a degree can use to try and erase your ex-fiance from existance, brought everyone back to life, and discovered that the woman this alien saved happened to be your dear friend when you were both alive." She held up a finger. "BUT this is also the same woman who your ex got jealous and killed you over. And now you're clingy manipulating her into your servitude to keep her close. ......Am I hearing this right?"

"HEY!! I did NOT 'manipulate' her! It was an offer she couldn't refuse. And with me as her boss what could go wrong?"......A book was thrown square in his face. "OW!!" Clutching his face, he growled at her. "What is WITH you people and attacking ghosts?!"

Hazelle was standing giving him her own glare. "YOU. TRICKED. HER. Plain and simple! How do you think the poor girl feels about having her soul guarded by her long lost dead friend who CLEARLY has some issues with being clingy?" He stared at her for a moment. Words sinking infor a good long while before with a guilty frown Snatcher turned his gaze down in shame. Hazelle stood there for a moment watching him. Her brain whirling for the answers before her face became surprised again...Then worried. "Oh no...You DIDNT!!" He still didn't look up and she scowled again. "From what you've told me.....You haven't told her yet, have you?"

"NO!! OK!!" He looked at her with some kind of expression. Wasn't angry, or sad...Sort of a bit panicked and worried as he stared at her. "I ....I CANT!!" Hazelle's brow rose higher. "...A- At least not now."

"And why not? Don't you think she's going to have questions eventually?"

"YES!! But-...." He sighed and floated down until he rested on the floor of the home, his hands coming up to rub at his face. A moment of silence glanced over the two as he continued to rub his face. ".....I.....can't." He forced out in a small voice. It sounded really forced and above a whisper but she still heard it enough for her to drop the scowl she was giving him. He remained with his face buried in his hands for a good silent moment before he heard some shuffling sounds and felt a presence sit beside. And later felt a hand pressed up again his shoulder. .....Slowly looking up, he peeked out at Hazelle sitting next to him and giving him a sad look.

"Hey. Come on. You know what happened wasn't your fault."

"I KNOW THAT!! And you know that!....But the question is." He looked back down at his hands. Never wishing they weren't so purple before. "Will she think that? Will she believe it's....my fault?"

Hazelle hesitated...but gave a reassuring smile to try and ease her ghostly friend's worries. "Well, you never know if you never tell her. And...It's kinda unfair she doesn't get to know about you while you're having her work for you-"

"I KNOW!! AND I WILL TELL HER!!"

"When?" Hazelle asked back crossing her arms and raising a brow. "When are you planning on telling her the trueth, Snatcher?"

"I-....I-I don't know. B-But not right now. It's too early after everything that's happened. It's best to let everyone settle in with the reality of it first. Especially her." He jumped and blinked over at Hazelle when she grabbed his hand.

Her face was worried but still stern as she gazed him directly in the eyes. "Take an old friend's advice. It's important she get's to know sooner rather than later, ok? The longer you take the more complications you're going to have."

"Yeah, yeah." He pulled his hand away to cross his arms again. "I get it!"

"How many people know of this?"

".....Just you and me. And maybe some of them." He nodded his head towards the outside of his home just as a few of his underlings ran by yelling. Oh. He must've meant them. "But they wouldn't say anything-.....WHAT THE PECK!?" A blur of white and color zipped by after the screaming minions and he instantly threw a scowl back at Hazelle who seemed a little bit surprised as well as Snatcher pointed a hand out of the entrance of his home. "You care to explain?"

"Oh. Shifty must be having a little bit of playtime. He was frozen for a long, long time you know." He turned back to her about to ask what the heck she was going on about when a sudden white rainbow blur lept into his home with a loud thud against the floor. He instinctively shot himself back a few feet from the massive pile of laundry that laid upon the ghost's floor. It looked like a badly sewn together white blanket that someone tried to fix by sewing all kinds of colorful patches to it.  After a bit it moved and he froze in surprised as the thing moved unnaturally up on four tiny legs under it and through it's head back revealing a darkened abyss inside the covers and many eyes blinking at him. He knew at once what this was and hissed as he pointed at it. "WHAT. IS. THAT. THING. DOING BACK IN MY FOREST?!"

He shot Hazelle a look demanding answers but the witch shrugged and smiled happily as the thing crawled on it's four legs over to it's master and crawled unnaturally halfway onto her lap. She smiled like a mother would smile at her child and pet the creature on it's head. It made a rumbling thrum that he supposed was his form of purring and relaxed in her hold. "What's a witch without her familiar? Especially since he was frozen in that dreadful woman's home this whole time. Another reason I was so curious about what was going on." She cooed and wrapped her arms around the giant thrumming creature with a hum. "One day I just woke up and there he was sitting right outside! I was so happy to finally get my beloved Shapeshifter back! I was wondering how the world he escaped, but now it all makes sense." Her smile turned smug again. "But I think you left out the part where you and Moonjumper were sharing the same body."

Snatcher instantly bristled fluff shooting up. "HEY!! Not by choice!" He pointed a hand at the thrumming creature. "And you keep that voodoo whatchamacallit pecking thing AWAY from my soul stash! I swear it if starts playing with one like a toy again I'll send it back to that ice cube!"

IN response the creature's eyes narrowed and a growl came out but Hazelle patted his back to calm him. "Now, now. Shifty loves playing with spirits. He didn't know any better. Maybe keep your stash somewhere safer than trapped in the ground."

"What a minute....HOW THE PECK DID YOU KNOW ABOUT US SHARING A BODY?!"

"Well, you know I'm teaching that young man of his magic. He's been acting all nervous like and told be all about it.~"

He stared at her for a moment....before growling and shoving an accusing finger in her face. "YOU KNEW THIS WHOLE TIME!!! AND TRICK ME INTO TELLING YOU!!"

"Hey. I didn't know everything," she retorted back, " I didn't know this lady was around or you have feelings for her-''

"SHE. IS. A. FRIEND!! STRICTLY FRIENDS!! ALWAYS HAVE AND ALWAYS WILL BE!!"

"Maybe that is the truth. Maybe you two WERE just friends," she pointed out seriously, "But thing's aren't the same as they were a thousand years ago, Snatchy. She doesn't know you are...well YOU. And she probably doesn't see you as a friend anymore because she doesn't know YOU you. She probably sees you as a 'boss' when you obviously see her as an old friend and like her more than that. You gotta get all this sorted out soon. Right now it sounds like a giant mess and you need to take a broom to it and sweep all the problematic dust away."

"I KNOW!!" He held his hands up. "I. Know. But like I said this is all happening too soon and too fast. I can't tell her right now." His light scowl came back as he pointed at her. "And you AREN'T either."

"Alright, alright. I get the hint. *sigh*" Hazelle rolled her eyes shaking her head before giving the ghost a serious look. "It's not my place to blab anything to her and honestly I'd be a bad friend, but AS a friend heed my warning. One day she's going to find out, and she's going to have a lot of questions you're going to have to answer. You made a big mess and with messes it's just going to get messier unless you deal with it."

He didn't say anything but huff and looked at the ground in a grumpy manner similar to a child.

"MIsTRESS," the thing on her lap suddenly hissed out in multiple voices catching the two's attention as all the eyes directed outside, "THe bOY hAs ArRiVeD."

"Oh, that must be Timmy.~ The little dear." Gently pushing Shapeshiter off herself, the loyal pet hopped off her as she stood up, reaching up to straighten the large witches hat on her head and turning to Snatcher as it crept out of the ghost's home. "Sorry to have to cut our meeting so short, but I did promise some witchy lessons to the boy after all."

"Hmph." The giant spirit watched as the witch walked out of his home and across the giant vine that lead across the small moat of water surrounding it. Poking his head out he saw the sight of that creature sat down and a small boy he knew all too well. As Hazelle approuched he huffed again. "Well don't be sticking around here to teach him!" His yellow eyes glanced around real quick to check for any signs of his dumb double. "And where's the corpse?"

The boy with dark purple eyes and black hair tipped his hat to the witch. "I'm afraid he's not feeling too well so I came on my own."

He huffed again. "Well good! He can stay out for all I care!"

Timmy scowled but Hazelle patted his head. "Now don't be mad at him. He's having some big trouble of his own." She looked back to Snatcher with a look and wave. "Bye, bye Snatchy.~  And....Please don't forget what we talked about. Alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just leave already!"

He crossed his arms and watched grumpily as Hazelle placed a hand on the young boy's back and began to steer him off in the direction of he guessed the way out of his woods followed closely behind by that creature. Huffing again and following them with his eyes until the three of them disappeared in the fog and dead trees- His looking was intrrupted my a small meow and something rubbing against him, the source quickly being identified as Rough Patch who decided to climb out from under his giant chair at last and was currently rubbing against his tail begging for pets. Purple claws gently grabbed him and brought him up to be held and pet. Rough Patch purring as he did so. Yellow eyes glanced back to the blue dress that laid upon the back of the chair and he sighed, Hazelle's words bouncing around in his head as he stared at it. Hazelle was right. But he could wait a little longer before telling her. He'd have to just wait and make up for everything first.

#ABloomInTime #a hat in time florist #A hat in time the florist #a hat in time snatcher #The Florist #snatcher #florist x snatcher #snatcher x florist #Snatcher x the florist #florist #flowercrown #the florist x snatcher

[missaudreyhorney]

(Almost) Every Idea Ever

Although I rarely ever finish writing a fic, that never stops me from getting new ideas for them. Terrible, horrible, dumpster fire ideas. Okay, some of them are wholesome on occasion, but mostly it’s just filth. I've excluded a couple of things because either they were just too awful to mention or I’m currently working on them and I want it to be a surprise.

The first story I started to write this year was original fiction but with the main male character heavily inspired by Jim Hopper. It was about a recently married young woman having an affair with her father-in-law. This really set a precedent for the rest of my ideas and should indicate to you the level of depravity on this list.

Hopper x Reader:

Hurts So Good series - In 1982, Reader is Mayor Kline’s daughter and has a crush on Chief Hopper. She decides to pursue him and things don’t go quite as planned but they still end up having steamy, rough sex. A secret affair begins between the two of them but it eventually leads to heartbreak. Heavy emphasis on Dom/sub and pain kink. - Initial pursuit, fingering in the car, sex (60%) - Phone sex the following day (70%) - Rough sex, bordering on consensual nonconsent (partially written) - Introduction to Daddy kink (notes) - Body worship (notes) - Bruise kink (notes) - Facesitting (50%) - hurt/comfort throatfucking, an argument, angst/fluff (75%) - Orgasm denial/control (70%) - Possible gunplay? (Unwritten) - Disciplinary spanking (notes)

Dress You Up series - In 1985, Hopper meets plus-size!Reader at JCPenney when he comes in to pick out a shirt for his date. After Joyce stands him up, he decides to come back and ask Reader out instead. Probably the cutest idea I’ve ever had for smut. Inspired by flamehairedwritings and flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash. - 1st meeting, 2nd meeting, date, sex (50%) - 2nd date, a continuation of My First Drabble (partially written) - Meeting El and she’s standoffish (notes)

Domestic Smut - Reader and husband!Hopper are at the cabin alone together one weekend. After breakfast, she tries to wash the dishes but the sink is broken, the water squirting everywhere. A water fight turns into a tickle fight which turns into kitchen table sex. (50%)

Hopper blindfolding Reader during sex at the cabin (Notes)

Hopper blindfolding Reader during a blowjob in his office at the police station (Minimal notes)

Hopper rubbing a popsicle on Reader’s body then licking it off (Minimal notes)

Hopper coming over to Reader’s house, unannounced, late at night, in the rain, for a quick rough fuck. Inspired by one of the pictures from the Playboy shoot. (Partially written)

Licking Hopper’s hand and arm veins to get his attention while he reads the Sunday newspaper. (Unwritten)

Sucking Hopper’s cock while he smokes a cigar on the porch and either ignores you or looks at you with disdain. Inspired by a compilation video of David smoking a cigar on Instagram Live. (Unwritten)

Consensual nonconsent fantasy where Hopper touches Reader and tells her to say no to him while he’s making her cum. Rough, forceful sex immediately follows. (Partially written)

Bootlicker - anti-cop Reader has a secret fetish for cops and Hopper is more than happy to oblige them and keep quiet about it. (Notes)

Working out my own personal issues via smut, bigender-questioning AFAB Reader puts on Hopper’s uniform shirt and hat. Much to their delight, he says they look like a boy. He also says “If you’re going to dress like a boy, I’m going to fuck you like one.” Basically just incredible anal sex while Hopper calls Reader a good boy. Extremely niche subject but the fantasy of this is so affirming to me, I can’t not think about it. (Notes)

Hopper x Reader requests

A sequel to Little Magnum where the dog is a few years older. There is maybe also a cat? (Unwritten)

Fire & Ice - Reader is playing in the snow when it’s getting dark outside. Hopper tells them to come in but they don’t listen. Reader falls and hurts their ankle then Hopper gets angry at their disobedience. Not because he’s a jerk, but because he can’t imagine his life without Reader and doesn’t want to lose them. Angsty hurt/comfort. (~70%)

Replacement idea since Fire & Ice was much too angsty - Reader gets stung by a bee and Hopper freaks out. Reader is fine but he babies them nonetheless, because again, his greatest fear is losing them. Very cute and silly. (unwritten)

Freezeframe - Reader bought Hopper a Polaroid camera for his birthday and he hasn’t used it months later. Taking matters into her own hands, she uses the camera for some naughty selfies. Once Hopper finds the pictures, he decides to assume the role of photographer and gets some very intimate shots of Reader. (80-85%)

Morning Wood - Reader lets themself into the cabin early one Summer morning and sees Hopper in bed, fully nude, just a sheet covering the part they want to see most. Hop wakes up, invites Reader into bed with him, and a blowjob ensues. Very detailed description of his body. (Notes)

Hopper gets injured and needs Reader to patch him up. She gets pissed though for him being in yet another dangerous situation where he yet again gets hurt. Reader reprimanding him leads to confessions of feelings which leads to sex. (Unwritten)

Reader has been feeling ignored by Hopper lately and decides to make him jealous to get his attention. She flirts with another man at a bar while Hopper watches and seethes with rage. He punishes her by dragging her into the parking lot then spanking over the tailgate of his Chevy Blazer. Rough sex and more spanking goes down back at the cabin. Based on my jealous!Hopper headcanon post. (Partially written)

Principal Hopper  - One of the worst ideas I’ve ever had, which is saying A LOT. High school principal Hopper catches one of his 18-year-old female students spying on him between classes and confronts her about it. Sexual tension bubbles up until neither of them can control themselves. Based on a fantasy told to me by a friend who I will not name. (Notes)

Hopper x Reader AUs

Messing Around With Jim series - A continuation of The Big Game, Afterschool Special, and Third Time’s A Charm. Modern!Hopper and Reader having all kinds of sex. - Fingering, gentle sex, tender orgasm control (50%) - Period sex, vibrator (Notes) - First blowjob, a continuation of A Sampling (partially written) - Hop eating Reader’s pussy for his birthday (minimal notes) - Fingering in the car, truck bed sex (notes) - Another blowjob, rough sex over the hood of a car (partially written) - Pussy eating at the park (notes) - Hop not understanding FaceTime, fluff, smut (unwritten) - Roleplaying how they met, sex at Reader’s parents house (notes) - July 4th fingering, rough sex, surprises (notes) - Remote control vibrator (partially written) - More pussy eating, this time in Hop’s cutting edge shirt (partially written) - Yet another blowjob, this time in a movie theater (unwritten) - Jealousy resulting in overstimulation/”forced” orgasms (notes) - 4 part miniseries about butt plugs/anal sex (notes) - Confronting her parents, angst (55-60%) - Learning about Sara, ANGST! (notes)

Vacation series - modem!Hopper and Reader go on vacation together. That’s it, that’s the plot. Idea from David’s Croatian vacation pics and conversations with Tayler. All just notes at this point. - Christening the hotel bed - Bratty Reader getting semi-publicly punished - Hopper taking care of drunk!Reader, humor, fluff - Double date

carpenter!Hopper - Reader is recently divorced and hires Hop to make repairs on her house before she sells it. Graphic detail of him doing manly things like sawing and hammering. Porn with plot. Inspired by another friend, she knows who she is. (Notes in the form of a 500-word summary)

Detective Hopper - various bits and pieces of ideas inspired by David being digitally handcuffed to Darren Criss and Michael Stuhlbarg in Vanity Fair, plus a few pictures in 2016. (Unwritten)

Captain Hopper - a collaboration with @pkg4mumtown. She said she was thinking about fire captain!Hopper rescuing her from a burning building and I told her my pre-existing firefighter idea of being saved and then wanting to thank him in a variety of ways. Things snowballed from there and I decided we need to write it. Mostly just notes so far. - Initial meeting, first date, sex - Second date, making dinner together, sex

Hopper x Joyce:

There is a list of my Jopper ideas (Various degrees of notes)

Teenage Joyce and Hopper meeting in high school and their relationship that follows. Maybe a oneshot? Maybe a series? (Notes)

Hopper x Billy: (Over 18-years-old and no longer in high school!)

1940/50’s AU - Hopper meets expat Billy at a cigar club while on vacation in Havana. A familiar face, so to speak, in a foreign land. Hop pays Billy to take him back to his apartment and “keep him company”. Maybe two chapters? Inspired by a photo of Dacre Montgomery in GQ Germany. (Partially written.)

Hopper catches Billy “renting his time” at a truck stop outside of town and threatens to arrest him, but Billy bribes him with sex. (Unwritten.) I’m sorry but there’s just something about the idea of rent boy Billy that I absolutely love.

Hopper + Billy + Reader - completely implausible threeway (Unwritten)

David Harbour RPF:

AU where instead of being an actor, he’s a drama teacher at a high school in New York City and the kids from Stranger Things are his students. Pure fluff. (Please write this for me!)

Giving him a blow job before an important event. TWO different versions. Inspired by numerous photos of David wearing a robe. (Minimal notes)

Riding his thigh and everything that entails. Inspired by a picture of David from GQ Mexico. (Minimal notes)

touch-starved!David hires a sexworker during the pandemic because he’s lonely quarantining by himself. No sex. He literally just wants a hug and someone to be affectionate with him. Unconventional fluff. (Unwritten)

Other DKH-related shenanigans:

Let’s Ride sequel - Reader goes on a second date with Deacon from SoulCycle, they go out for sashimi and end up at his place. He has a cat that he inherited from a neighbor. Reader teaches him how to put her in a chokehold. (Unwritten)

Alexei Shostakov smut - some type of Bond Girl situation where Reader has to seduce him. Just an excuse for me to lovingly describe his large tattooed body in vivid detail. (Unwritten)

The Stranger - Reader has an ongoing affair with a mysterious man whose name is never mentioned. They meet at high society functions and hook up in fancy hotels. One night, he finds out that she’s married and punishes her for her dishonesty. Inspired by a photo of David looking annoyed in a tuxedo. (Notes)

Daddy Dom/little girl roleplay fantasy. Sweet, smutty, and slightly taboo. (Notes)

Daddy’s Little...Helper - Me, as submissive!Reader, watching Daddy jack off right in front of my face after he comes home from work. Based on a conversation with an Instagram friend and a picture of David in the play “Cal In Camo” where he’s holding a beer bottle between his legs. (65%)

Stranger Things x Twin Peaks crossover - Chief Jim Hopper comes to Twin Peaks to help Special Agent Dale Cooper solve some type of paranormal mystery. Perhaps a parallel between The Black Lodge and The Upside Down? I think this would work really really well, but I can’t write it myself. (Please write this for me!)

In conclusion: Yes, I know I need to have my head examined. Yes, I know I spend too much time thinking about Jim Hopper. Let me know if you LIKE these ideas. Please do not let me know if you hate these ideas.

Tagging: @manawhaat @strangest-hour @007swhore @kingphillipblake @david-harbour-arg @misshawkins1993 @oxforddrama 

#ST FF ideas #fanfic inspiration #DID NOT proofread this when I was done

[okimargarvez]

COULROPHOBIA

Original title: Coulrophobia.

Prompt: Luke and Penelope go to see IT, the movie.

Warning: none.

Genre: romantic, comedy.

Characters: Luke Alvez, Penelope Garcia.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot, part 27 of 365 Garvez canon Life.

Legend: 💑😘.

Song mentioned: none.

GARVEZ STORIES

COULROPHOBIA

 After having crushed the automatic closing button of all the doors, Luke reaches her and takes by the hand, enjoying the simple and banal gesture that makes clear they are together. -I'm so happy that no new case arrived today, so we can enjoy a little 'peace together and a quiet evening..- Penelope says, stroking his fingers with her own, with a candid smile on her face.

He nods, looking though on the opposite side. - Yes, yeah.- a slight hesitation that immediately appears suspicious.

Continuing to walk she scrutinizes him more carefully, trying to pick up some other clue that could explain his behavior. -You are a bit strange, tonight. Did something happened that you did not tell me?- he hastens to deny, shaking his head, but at the same time he appears sincere and liar.

-No, it's everything ok.- he opens the door, like a real gentleman, attracting the attention of some girls in a queue behind them. - Why do not you go get popcorn and drinks?- he gently pushes her with one hand, open palm, on her back, in the direction of a particularly inviting stand.

Penelope lets herself too easily convinced. - Ok!- she answers, feeling an immediate shiver as soon as the physical contact breaks between them. From his own line to buy the tickets of the movie he has chosen, without her knowledge, Luke watches his girlfriend and thinks, like every day from the first time, how lucky he is to share every single moment with her, how much she is beautiful and sexy with any rag on her (or without) , how sweet, naive, how easily she manages to move him when she is worried about him. Lost among these exaggeratedly romantic thoughts he doesn't notice almost when arrives his turn to pay, nor that she appeared beside him and is looking at him, still smiling.

-You got everything?- he asks, hiding the tickets behind his back, so she can't see which movie they refer to. Penelope doesn't seem to have noticed it.

-Yes, and you?- she shows the huge bowl of popcorn that barely manages to hold with one hand and two glasses with a built-in straw. It wasn't very difficult to convince Luke to make this compromise, for an evening eating and drinking things totally unhealthy, but definitely stimulating in more senses and necessary for the occasion, like a fir tree at Christmas.

-Here are the tickets.- he shows them with such a quick gesture that the blonde has no way of reading the title of the film, even if she notices that it is a particularly short name.

-I feel like a teenager.- she almost starts jumping. -It was so long since I went to the cinema.- in fact, perhaps the last time was almost ten years ago, when Seaver had replaced JJ, and, together with her, Spencer and Morgan as knights, they had gone to see a splatter and banal horror film .

-I'm happy to make you happy, honey.- he smiles sweetly, then puts his free hand on her waist, to help her climb the stairs. The theatre room in which they are directed is obviously the largest and the most difficult to reach.

-I love you, Luke.- she says, just before entering. The man holds the door open with his leg.

He hesitates, staying a moment back. -I hope you will not change your mind at the end of the movie.- he whispers, more than anything to himself, partly regretting the idea he had as soon as someone told him about the release of a classic horror genre, made with a completely new cast, but respecting the original and even the book from which it is taken.

-What did you say? I didn't hear you.- Penelope turns to look at him and almost stumbles in a step, miraculously managing not to pour the contents of the glass.

-Nothing.- a smile too much exaggerated. -Why don't we sit here?- he indicates with the elbow a row about halfway, not too close to the screen, but not too far. He lets her pass first, enjoying the view of her hips and her swaying backside, to avoid stepping on unknown handbags and feet, with a perverse and forbidden taste, even if he can freely caress it with his own hands and knows perfectly how she looks naked... Ok, enough, at least until the lights stay on.

-One of my favorite moments of going to the cinema are the trailers of the films that are about to release. I love how they are made. Did I ever tell you that once I thought I wanted to work in that field? Video music clips, however, more than film trailers...- but he is not listening to her, and she notices it only after a while.

-Uh, did you know that instead I like trailers because waiting for the beginning of the film you have some time to kiss your partner?- he uses a tone so peaceful and innocent that she doesn't even protest and takes inspired by his suggestion. Without any modesty they exchange passionate but fairly discreet kisses, and they aren't even the only couple intent on this kind of activity. The fact of having to hold back from expressing excessive joy is an even stronger stimulant. This is why when the atmosphere changes and appear the first opening credits, they both snort, separating and pretending indifference. Penelope doesn't need many shots to find out which film her boyfriend has decided to see with her.

-What?- she feels some shiver of terror making its way into her chest. -But it's...- she can't even conceive of it. She would like to get up and leave the hall, but she should pass in front of a lot of people, and her legs, her whole body doesn't do what she tell to it to. -Luke!- she bites her lips to avoid shouting.

-Shhh.- he silences her. -You'll get us kicked out of here.- an evil grin on his face.

-But... you brought me to see IT!- she whispers, but her anger is evident even in such a low tone of voice. -You know that the clowns terrify me...- he tilts his head towards her.

- You got cold feet?- he dares her, because it is the only option he has.

-What did you say?- and it's the best choice. -I'll show you, who will do it, Newbie.-it's the last thing she tells him. She no longer comments, not verbally at least, but she jumps and lets out some "oooh" of surprise, moving in sync with almost every other spectator in the room. The movie is about to end, when one of the children, the one terrified by Modigliani's painting, sees his fear becoming real and Luke, without being able to avoid it, makes a jump on the armchair, so high as to touch the ceiling. At the exit, while having his hand on her hip, Penelope teases him. -So, what do you have to say?- he drags his feet and mumbles something incomprehensible.

-Sorry. I'm sorry I could never even think that you're not super brave. I am also willing to walk kneeling on peas. You forgive me?- puppy eyes.

-I forgive you, but you must do something for me.-

The next day, Luke's pic wearing a clown costume, with Krusty's green hair, red nose and long shoes, is sent to every BAU member.

TAGS: @theshamelessmanatee​  @arses21434 @kathy5654 @martinab26 @reidskitty13 @jenf42 @gracieeelizabeth27 @silviajajaja @smalliemichelle99 @charchampagne14 @thinitta   @myhollyhanna23 @garvezz @mercedes-maldonado

#garvez #penelope garcia #luke alvez #penelope x luke #luke x penelope #criminal minds #cm #garcia x alvez #alvez x garcia #IT #coulrophobia #clown

[ultra-mega-blaster]

Rabbit Hole

Here’s a story my Patreon supporters got to read a couple months ago! Why don’t you come join the Sleepytime Army? Get exclusive stories and vote on what I write next! https://www.patreon.com/sleepytimeslut

Zoe was slumped down in the back row of the classroom, scrolling through Tumblr on her phone instead of paying attention to the teacher. Like usual.

Oh, here’s a sexy picture to share. Here’s a gif to attach a few lines of dialogue to… She liked teasing the boys (and girls) online, and they liked teasing her. Especially when she was in class and couldn’t do anything about her rising horniness.

Oooh, a hypno story, her favorite. She checked that the teacher was droning on, and not looking her direction, and started reading. Just a couple paragraphs in, she knew it was a good one. She reblogged it to finish reading later, and to share it with her followers (her many, many followers … how had that happened?) and kept scrolling. Ooh! A spiral! Don’t get distracted … But uunnnfff, so easy to get distracted … to get drawn in …

She shook herself, sharing the spiral with a drooling smiley face, and moved on.

“I’m a little concerned, looking at your last batch of papers, that so many of you got to college without apparently learning how to punctuate a simple compound sentence, much less to fill it with original thoughts …” Miss Thompson was saying.

Zoe squeezed her thighs together, feeling the arousal spread through her body. She looked around. Nobody looking. Good. She knew she should be listening, should be taking notes, but all she could think about was her needy pussy.

The constant alerts from her phone kept drawing her back to the glowing rectangle in her hand. BUZZ. Another favorite blog had just shared something, Tumblr wanted her to know. BUZZ. Someone was tagging her in a pic of one of her favorite porn stars. BUZZ …

She was powerless. She had to look, every time the phone buzzed. Every time Tumblr fed her more. She didn’t used to be like this, did she? She used to have, like, an attention span and stuff? Could leave her phone alone for a few hours? Now she was addicted … like she had conditioned herself to salivate at the buzzer.

Or been conditioned, came a whisper.

Been brainwashed.

Cuntwashed.

Drippy cunt. Salivating pussy …

BUZZ.

Ooh! a hot little gif that someone wanted her to see – “wanna ride me like this?” he asked, adding Zoe’s handle. Where was the teacher? Zoe knew she should scan for Miss Thompson again, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

BUZZ BUZZ. Three more guys wanting to talk to her privately. She was already keeping four conversations going …

This one, for instance, was telling her, in detail, what he would be doing to her if they were in a hotel room together right now. She was giving as well as she was getting, egging him on, hoping he was stroking to her words they way she wished she could be rubbing to his. This one was begging her to punish him, and reveling in her attempts to be domineering. And this one … oh, this one kept sending spirals, and inductive texts, drawing her ever downward (or trying to), making her sleepy, making her horny … making her a mindnumbed cockslave …

She tapped the little pencil symbol to make a public post.

“You guys are making me so horny!!!” she typed.

I’m supposed to be paying attention to the teacher right now but my tumblr feed is full of porn and 3 of you fuckers are having hot conversations with me trying to make me horny and IT’S FUCKING WORKING I’m sure my neighbors can smell me I’m so turned on I can feel how drippy I am goddammit I need to stroke I’m not gonna make it

That was a mistake, of course. As she knew it would be. The sharks smelled blood in the water, and circled.

“Just keep watching little slave. Soon you’ll be my little cock hungry whore”

“It’s just so nice to be able to turn off your brain for a while, ya know? Join me?”

“And when I say “horny bunny” you’ll have a powerful urge …”

“Mmm damn what a view! Your nice tight pussy wrapped around my cock feels so damn good. I’m going to enjoy fucking you hard, bottoming out hitting your womb”

“…And then one day you wake up and you’re an empty headed pink bimbo, with no thoughts in your dumb bimbo head but getting bigger tits and pleasing your Mistress’s pussy…”

Another public post:

Ogod now ur all piling on cumming our of the woodwork why csnt i turn off this app why do i keep lookin im not gonna make it im such a dumb hotny cow

Sent.

And back to messaging, the words pummeling her brain –

Blank. Obedient. Responsive. Counting from 10. Letting your mind slide away. Relaxed. Empty. No thoughts. 8. Letting go….

Then, even before she could register the shadow over her desk, a hand snatched the phone from her fingers.

“You know the rules about phones in my class, Zoe,” said Miss Thompson. Zoe made a choked whimper, her fingers mindlessly twitching after the phone.

“You can get it back later. If you’re good.”

If you’re good. If you’re a good girl. Good girls obey.

Zoe whimpered again, as Miss Thompson walked away. She was going to have to sprint to the ladies’ room when class was over. The phone would have to wait. Her clit was throbbing … and she needed to obey.

*****

Later, after everyone had filed out, Miss Thompson carefully and (BUZZ) meticulously wiped clean the blackboard. She liked the board to be as neat (BUZZ) and tidy as her desk.

(BUZZ)

What on earth was – Oh. Right. That girl’s phone was still on the desk. Vibrating away, for some unknown reason.

She sat down and picked it up, turning it on. Silly child didn’t seem to have a lock on the –

A rainbow of porn leapt out of the screen and slapped Miss Thompson about the face.

Cocks going into young women’s mouths. A girl’s tongue on a pussy. “Zoe, are you still there?” Breasts, so many breasts. “Zoe, girl, look how hard you made me …” A maelstrom of dark and light flesh that she couldn’t make sense of for a moment, until she saw the caption “gangbanged fuckslut made airtight with BBC” … which, to be frank, didn’t ENTIRELY explain the picture to Miss Thompson, but it let her figure out what some of the shapes were …

Horrified, repulsed, Miss Thompson started scrolling. And couldn’t stop scrolling. Stories of incest and bondage. Lewd photos and gifs, scenes of decadence and degradation. She shook her head, her mouth open, but she couldn’t stop …

And the hypnosis. Over and over in the girl’s feed, the hypnosis! Glassy eyed girls with drooping mouths, baring their breasts … Women with spirals in their eyes, and cocks in their mouths … Flashing gifs with pictures and words, too fast to follow, telling her how she should be, how she must be, how she knew she already was, if she would just admit it to herself … Inductions, and fantasies, and more spirals, and submissive, drooling women, eager to serve cock, to serve pussy, to become slaves to their own needy cunts …

Miss Thompson hadn’t noticed how hard her nipples had gotten. She hadn’t noticed how wet her own cunt was, until she found herself dipping in a finger … She bucked against her hand, but didn’t stop stroking … just kept scrolling …

Someone calling himself Master of Mystery – except with some of the letters replaced by numbers – BUZZed into a private message. “Getting pretty horny, Zoe? Pretty needy and desperate?”

“No,” she found herself typing. “I mean, no, I’m – I’m not … No.”

“Oh, you certainly sounded pretty desperate to me. You sounded like a little slut who needed permission to cum … A naughty fucktoy who can’t stop touching her princess parts even though she’s not supposed to …”

Miss Thompson bit her lip and with an effort pulled her hand away from her pussy. “I’m not Zoe. I am Miss Thompson, her teacher,” she typed.

She tried to pull herself together.

“And you should keep a civil tongue in your head, young man.”

“Ohhh! Naughty, naughty, teacher … Are you looking through a confiscated phone? And getting TURNED ON by someone else’s Tumblr porn? You are, aren’t you … Go ahead, you can admit it …”

“i” she typed and sent by mistake.

She cursed.

“I will do no such thing. I am … I am putting the phone down now.”

“No you’re not.”

She hesitated. He seemed so sure. She waited, panting.

“You won’t, because you would have already without saying anything. You would have before you got so horny scrolling through her feed.”

She didn’t say anything.

“Because you are horny, aren’t you? All pent-up, tied up in knots …”

“Yes, yes, I am, OK, but there’s nothing wrong with that”

“No, not at all. Tell you what. You seem tense. Let me help you relax. Can we do that?”

“Um”

“Just focus on your shoulders for a second. Feel how tight they are? Tighten them up even more, just for a second. Take a deep breath in. And then let it out, and as you do, feel all the tension go out of your shoulders …”

“what”

“Sshh shh you don’t have to say anything just listen. I’m going to count, and with each number you’re going to release a little tension, and it’s going to turn into warmth … warmth spreading through your body …

“And then maybe we’ll look at a spiral together for a while … You’ll like that …”

*****

Zoe was feeling SO much better – though her legs were still a little wobbly – as she walked toward the classroom door. She couldn’t believe she’d left her phone behind! She hoped she could get it back quietly, without much fuss. There didn’t seem to be a class in there now. Maybe she could just slip in and grab it?

She eased the door open gently … and then almost dropped her backpack in surprise.

Miss Thompson was sprawled, nearly nude, in her wooden rolling chair! Her skirt was bunched around her middle, panties on the floor, white blouse and bra tangled on her desk. Most surprising of all, one hand was operating Zoe’s phone, and the other hand was operating Miss Thompson’s bushy cunt!

She stepped closer, sliding the backpack gently to the floor. The teacher’s breathing was ragged, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glassy … and sure enough, Zoe could see a spiral on the glowing screen. She tiptoed close enough to read over her shoulder.

You want to watch

To let the spiral suck you in

To let my spiral suck away all resistance

You want to become mindless for me, because it feels so good to stop thinking

Each word you read will bring you pleasure, and each second you spend watching will make you sink deeper and deeper, until you can’t help but obey …

She reached around her teacher’s body, and cupped both breasts at once.

Miss Thompson gasped, and then relaxed with a moan as Zoe began kneading her nipples.

“How are you doing, miss?” she whispered.

“Can’t … Can’t cum. Need to … but don’t … don’t have permission…”

“Mmmm.” Zoe tweaked her nipples, massaging her surprisingly full and warm tits. “I know it’s a lot to handle if you’re not used to it. I’ve been sliding into this rabbit hole a bit at a time for months, so I’ve built up a liiiittle bit of an immunity.” Partially true, anyway. “But my feed and my followers must have hit you like a ton of bricks.”

Zoe giggled to herself, as her teacher panted.

“Who are you talking to,” Zoe murmured.

“M-Master of Mystery,” Miss Thompson gasped, her back arching.

Ah yes, thought Zoe. Also known as Kevin.

“Tell him I’m here. And ask him what I should do to you.”

“Master …” Miss Thompson typed, and after a moment, responded.

“He says to get on your knees and lick my s-slutty, juicy c… cunt.”

Zoe smiled. “That’s what I was hoping he was going to say,” she murmured as she knelt.

After all, she thought. Good girls obey.

source: 

http://sleepytimeslut.tumblr.com/post/173458443306

[dat-town]

My heart leads to you

Characters: best friend Yoongi & You

Setting: soulmate compass au, (slightly) sleeping beauty au, friend to lovers

Genre: fluff (despite the summary it’s fluff, i promise!)

Summary: “I think my soulmate is dead.”

Word count: 3.8k

For more fairytale aus, check my Once upon a fairytale masterpost.

Also, happy comeback everyone! ♥

(Original pic credit.)

You will never forget the day when the pointer of your soulmate compass stopped.

It happened in the middle of your Advanced Economics exam. Sure, you weren’t bothered at first because it’s a common thing that the pointer stands still temporarily when your significant other isn’t moving, for example during sleep. But now it was stuck in that one position and didn’t move for the rest of the day. Or ever since for that matter. And that, that only happens when your other half, the one you are destined to be with is no longer alive.

 “What happens when you lost your soulmate? Can you have another one?”

You were six when you asked your mother about the consequences of losing your promised one, the pair of your soul. You have always wondered whether it hurt just like they were taking away something from you. Or is it something that can be replaced?

“Why do you ask, darling?” you mother looked up from the family accounting, frowning. Such a weird, gloomy question from a pre-schooler.

You, sitting opposite of her at the dining table, kept drawing with crayons as the answer rolled down from your tongue.

“Heejin from school said her parents will divorce. Does it mean they won’t be soulmates anymore?” you furrowed your eyebrows not understanding the concept of growing apart. Heejin’s parents will live in separate houses from now on, so she will have two rooms and two places to call home. At least that’s what she said. But you couldn’t put your finger on this. Why would one want to leave their soulmate behind? How could their love change?

But your mother had the answer, of course, because mothers always know everything.

“No-no, it doesn’t mean that, honey. Soulmates are for life. Sometimes they disagree and part ways, a few of them find their way back to each other, a few don’t but the universe is never wrong. They are your better half so you have to treasure them.”

“But… what if one of them dies? Will the marking fade?” you inquired further with your childish enthusiasm as you looked down on the compass tattoo on the inner side of your wrist. It’s nothing special, just a thin black pointer slightly moving inside of an ink circle as big as a coin. Everybody is born with it, it‘s as natural as a birthmark.

“No but it won’t move anymore. You will feel emptiness and cannot experience that kind of love only your soulmate can give to you. So once you find them, you have to take care of them, okay?”

You nodded while gently stroking your skin over the compass. Its vibrations were a little bit ticklish as the pointer moved and you watched it in awe. Soulmate compasses work like normal compasses but not quite. While the magnetized one always points at a stable, unmoving point, North based on your location, the soulmate one depends on your significant other’s position and movements that required location changes while not counting your coordinates in the equation. So finding them isn’t as easy as it sounds even with a compass.

Not even a minute later you went back to drawing since as a six-years-old, your attention span lasted only this long. But it just struck you now that you haven’t forgotten about what happens to soulmates without their other half.

 After experiencing the first sign, you tried to calm yourself down with poor excuses. Maybe your soulmate broke their leg and couldn’t move. But you knew very well that the pointer trembled even at the slightest movements. However yours were deadly still.

No more buzzing, itching feeling in your wrist. The sight of the constantly angle-changing compass used to stir up butterflies in your stomach, fuelled your excitement towards the day when the pointer would go completely crazy near your soulmate. But now it just made you sad. More so, because there was nobody you could really talk to about it.

When you told your parents, they looked at you like they were grieving an unborn child. They even offered you consultation with a psychologist who specialized in the field of people losing their soulmates. But the thing was: you couldn’t lose them because you have never even had the opportunity to have one to begin with. You never met, you had no idea how he or she (let’s not forget the fifty-fifty chance) was like. How could you grieve somebody you didn’t even know?

But there was somebody you would have liked to talk about it, whom you wanted to tell everything because you knew he would never judge you. Min Yoongi wasn’t someone who would do that. Even if it was something pitiful like that a part of you was relieved now because you couldn’t possibly disappoint the one who was doomed to be with you. You knew it was harsh and unfair but a part of you dreaded the day when your soulmate would have enough of you like all your previous boyfriends did. You knew that if somebody then Yoongi would understand it, just like he understands the complexity of you.

You ‘met’ via Soundcloud where he uploads his music and you occasionally do vocal covers of English songs. For you, it’s just a hobby but for him, it’s his life and it should be because he’s amazingly talented, there are seriously no words for his work. Sometimes you still can’t believe that he, Agust D messaged you one day proposing a collab.

 agust_d liked your audio ‘SIA - Chandelier cover’ and  ‘The NBHD - Sweather Weather acoustic cover’

You have a new message from agust_d!

 hello starlight sonata,

i really liked the english covers you uploaded. i was wondering if you would feature in one of my tracks? since you’re following me i guess you know i’m a rapper but this new song needs a vocal, preferably feminine and i think yours would fit the melody nicely. i enclosed a preview of the instrumental, let me know what you think.

agust d

p.s. i saw in your bio that you’re also korean, cheers!

 There was no way you could say no to that. Of course, you agreed and you two immediately clicked when you started talking about music. Even after releasing So far away, you messaged each other almost every day. After one point, you were talking not only about music related topics but literally everything.

 To: yoongs ♡

I just got a free coffee at Starbucks today

From: yoongs ♡

great. that’s exactly what i need.

give it to me

pleeeease

To: yoongs ♡

But you’re 2800 miles away

From: yoongs ♡

don’t quote blackbear on me

and ilsan is 200 miles away at most

To: yoongs ♡

Are you from Seoul or…?

From: yoongs ♡

yeah. seoul.

originally daegu, though. hence my alias

To: yoongs ♡

Ooooh D-boy, right. How could I forget?

So Seoul, that’s cool. Whatcha doing there?

From: yoongs ♡

trying to make it big with a few friends

namjoon and hobi are rappers too, we share a studio, it’s cheaper

joon is from ilsan too btw

To: yoongs ♡

Then you should all come visit so I can finally see your face

From: yoongs ♡

[DCMI_1503.jpg]

here. you happy?

 Well, happy wasn’t the first adjective that comes to your mind. It was more like surprised. He looked so cute in that white hoodie, fluffy, messy blonde hair and nose crunch. He was undeniably handsome. Still, you got why he didn’t post his face all over his social media, he probably wanted people to follow him because of his music and not his looks.

 To: yoongs ♡

Very

You are way cuter than I expected

You know, from someone who sends people to Hong Kong with their tongue technology

FYI, it’s a compliment

From: yoongs ♡

it sounded like teasing to me but nvm

your turn!

To: yoongs ♡

I never promised anything

From: yoongs ♡

it’s only fair

how else could i know you are not a 40 years old bored wife at home?

To: yoongs ♡

It’s called TRUST

From: yoongs ♡

so are you? i mean married?

To: yoongs ♡

No, jeez. Not even a boyfriend

Fine. Give me one sec.

[170903_1506.jpg]

Me feat the coffee you WON’t get

From: yoongs ♡

are you kidding me?

did you just download an idol’s selfie?

To: yoongs ♡

Wow i don’t even know if i should take it as a compliment or insult

From: yoongs ♡

no it’s just… how are you still single?

To: yoongs ♡

I guess I just haven’t found the right one yet

From: yoongs ♡

you are pretty, your soulmate will be very lucky

To: yoongs ♡

Thanks...

 Since then he bombarded you with selfies taken from that one angle that kills you and even though you had never met face-to-face, he was like a best friend to you. You complained to him about exams and assignments while he whined about his part-time job - being a pizza delivery boy - and missing Holly, their dog. You recommended each other movies, played 20 questions way a lot more than it counts as 20 questions, talked all night about music and silly things. But beyond listening to each other, you were also there to support each other every time the other needed it.

Yet, when you needed him the most, he was nowhere.

 To: yoongs ♡

I think my soulmate is dead.

 When he didn’t answer right away to your text, you weren’t surprised. When he was working and got into the zone, he was a little distant and slow but not answering for a week? That was unheard of. You couldn’t decide whether you should be worried or pissed off. You decided against the latter when two weeks passed and he still hadn’t uploaded anything new to his account. You DMed his friend, Joon who went by RapMon on Soundcloud to ask about him. His reply was immediate.

Oh, shit, sorry I didn’t contact you. It’s been crazy here. Yoongi hyung was involved in an accident, got hit by a car during work. He’s stabilized now but still in hospital.

You could only think of one question: which one? and with the answer you got, you dropped everything else. You didn’t worry about your probably dead soulmate at all when you were on the next train to Seoul. You couldn’t believe you were whining about being ignored while Yoongi had been in hospital for two weeks already because a freaking car hit him. Maybe it was regret that persuaded you to make that impulsive decision of going to Seoul. Or maybe it was something else.

You merely glanced at your bare wrist and the frozen pointer before stepping into the hospital’s hall with a bouquet of flowers. You brought the forget-me-nots only to tease the boy but with a warm heart still. The clinic smelled like any other and the ridiculously white walls made you anxious. For no longer you felt comfortable in your body with the colourful flowers in your hand that made you feel like you were visiting a sick grandma. You tentatively approached the door following the receptionist’s directions. To your relief, a familiar guy was waiting in front of it and when he saw you, he walked right up to you.

"Hi. Y/N, right? I’m Namjoon," he greeted you with a welcoming smile that deepened his dimples. He was a lot taller than you thought, you had to practically arch your back so you could look him in the eye while answering.

"Glad to finally meet you."

"Likewise. So bad the occasion isn’t the best," he grimaced, forehead crinkled with worry. It reminded you why you came in the first place.

“How is he?”

“Taken the circumstances he’s okay. A few fractured ribs, nothing broken though but…” the rapper gulped nervously, nibbling on his lower lip. “He has a severe head trauma.”

“As in?” You weren’t quite well-informed when it came to medical jargon. Did it mean he lost his memories or what?

“It means he hit his head so hard that despite his promising vitals he doesn’t wake up.” Oh. Now you finally understood why Namjoon wrote that there would be no point of your visit. But you were so stubborn you wanted to come no matter what. What’s more, since it was your first time meeting you wanted to look pretty and put on a nice light blue dress. Well, it look like he won’t see you anyway.

“Can I see him though?” you asked stubbornly, not wanting to go back without seeing him after you came such a long way for that. You had no idea if there was any special protocol, maybe visiting hours restriction for patients in coma You didn’t know if you could even see him in this state but you hoped wholeheartedly that you didn’t come in vain. One look and it would be enough, you told yourself.

“Sure. He would be happy to have you here.” Namjoon showed you the way to the right door.  “He talks about you a lot, you know...”

“Yeah, all the time,” another voice chimed in, stepping out of the room you were ready to enter. “Hi! I’m Hoseok but you can call me Hobi like my friends and their friends do. And now I’m starving so we would leave the big guy with you.”

“Sure.” “We will be back in an hour tops and don’t worry about it, you can leave him alone. It’s not like he could go anywhere, we just like to keep him company,” Namjoon waved to you as Hosok dragged him away until they disappeared in the hospital hallways.

“Kiss him awake!” The smiley boy shouted back and that left you speechless, blinking blankly. You waved back hesitantly, still processing what just happened and what you should do. Right, visiting Yoongi.

You were taken aback by your rapidly beating heart. Why were you so nervous? It’s not like he would be up and awake. And it’s Yoongi anyway, no need to be worried. You took a deep breath and stepped into the white hospital room. It looked just like in tv dramas and you smiled at the several Get well soon balloons wishing him quick recovery. You put the flowers into the empty vase on the nightstand and poured water in it from a pot. Then and just then you let yourself look at him.

With his hair falling onto his gauze-covered forehead, eternal calmness spreading on his lovely features he looked as if he was just sleeping. You stepped closer scratching your itching wrist and bent down to brush the boy’s fringe away from his closed eyes. How was that possible that he was even more handsome in real life? He was dressed in common hospital attire, attached to a heart monitor and kept alive with infusion. Still, he looked like a sleeping beauty.

You wondered what somebody’s soulmate felt if the other was in such state? How would the compass act? Unmoving without deadweight? And would the life functions of the person in coma be enough to keep his own compass working?

You were too curious for your own good so you touched Yoongi’s arm that rested by his body gently. He didn’t even stir but when you turned it over and took a look at his right wrist, his compass was vividly alive. The pointer couldn’t stop spinning around in a speed that made you dizzy. It didn’t made sense. Compasses should only act like this around their soulmates while yours was only itching like crazy. However, looking down at it, observing its curves closely you figured out why: your pointer kept fidgeting like it wanted to move but couldn’t.

Which meant that your soulmate wasn’t dead after all. He was only unconscious.

You should have known, finally the puzzle pieces find their place: Yoongi was the one destined for you.

You have often imagined what your first meeting with your soulmate would look like. You daydreamed about romantic buzzing with a sense of surprise, maybe fear of disappointment. But now that it happened, you were strangely calm, almost happy. Your soulmate was the boy who talked you to sleep when you couldn’t fall asleep, who asked you to sing to him when he was tired, the one who thought you were smart, talented, funny and pretty. So why almost happy? Well, meeting in a hospital while he was in coma isn’t the most romantic way to meet but a memorable one for sure.

What did just Hobi suggest?

“True love’s kiss, huh?” you snorted, giggling to yourself.

It was not like you to kiss somebody you just met. But this was Yoongi who also happened to be your soulmate. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Nothing, literally nothing. However, on the bright side, he could wake up. Why not test the gossips they are whispering about soulmate bonds and how special they are?

So you acted on impulse, you didn’t think, you just dived in and let yourself drown. Planting a kiss on a pair of unmoving, dry lips wasn’t the most romantic of experience but you swore you could feel the spark, that familiar tingling in your wrist, under the layer of your skin but you didn’t bother to look away from Yoongi’s face. Those long, fluttering eyelashes, the apples of his cheeks, the tint on his pale skin and the lips you just kissed. It didn’t take a minute and they were widening in a sharp inhale which was closely followed by a slow exhale.

What?!

To say you were awestruck is probably an understatement. You were so lost off words you couldn’t even formulate a normal sentence, much less execute any normal human activity noting that the boy you just kissed on the mouth suddenly woke up from a two-week-long coma. And to top it all, you were still only a few inches away from him face when he opened his eyes.

“Hi,” Yoongi blinked at you still half-asleep, voice raspy and words slurred but his coffee brown eyes were sparkling like thousand morning stars and so beautiful, it made your chest hurt.

“Hi yourself,” you beam at him pulling away, a little embarrassed. Even without looking, you knew your compass was spinning like a madman-driven carousel and you suddenly felt shy. What if he felt it, too? And what if he didn’t?

“Am I dreaming? Or is this heaven?” he asked drowsily, tone thick with sleep, a bit of flirty-ish as he looked around in the blinding white room and tried to sit up.

“Eww, I didn’t know you’re such a cheeseball, Min Yoongi,” you teased lightly and had the urge to playfully hit him on the chest but stopped yourself in time. There must have been some human decency protocol about not abusing physically people who just woke up from coma. So instead, you helped him arranging his pillows and keep him a leverage so he could move backwards until he was in a sitting position.

“Only for you,” he winked at you, mouth pulled in a smirk, probably still high on medicine. But yet again, you found yourself too close to his face and it took your breath away. He had a comical bandage all around his head and he smelled like antiseptics but he could still make you blush. Unfair.

You decided against playing along with him and sat down on the bed, putting an appropriate distance between you. Clearing your throat, you asked the question that had already threatened to fall from your lips: “Did you know?”

“What?” Yoongi blinked, confused and you should have remembered that maybe he was still not entirely conscious but you had too many feeling conjured up inside of you. You felt like you were going to burst if you didn’t get answers.

“That we are soulmates, idiot.”

Hearing you say it out loud, Yoongi grinned widely, showing off his gummy smile and looked down at his hands oddly shy. He watched his own restless compass for a whole three seconds that had driven you crazy before he answered:

“Kinda,” he shrugged and you gaped at him. He sounded a lot more sure than a ‘kinda’.

“How long?”

“Since your European trip. My compass went crazy when you were on the plane,” Yoongi explained and it all made sense. His frantic messages asking about when you would arrive back from your vacation, his offer that he could pick you up at the Seoul airport so that you could finally meet. But in the end, it didn’t work out because he had a show that day and your dad came for you anyway. Weeks passed, the university semester started for you and you were just as apart as you were before.

Until now.

“Ah that’s why you wanted to meet me so desperately,” you laughed, all giddy and happy that Yoongi wanted the same thing as you. But what was it exactly?

“I wasn’t that desperate,” the boy was quick to protest since he couldn’t let his pride get hurt. You knew well Min Yoongi was a prideful man but you liked to test your limits.

“Keep telling yourself that. You even got hit by a car just to lure me here,” you chuckle feeling so incredibly relieved that you could be yourself this easily around him too, not only through texts, and that it wasn’t awkward at all. It felt natural, oh so right. Like the two of you were meant to be.

“It wasn’t on purpose, it hurt like hell,” you soulmate pouted and you wanted to kiss that frown away. Especially now that he played hard to get. “You know what? I take everything back, I don’t want you as a soulmate. You’re horrible.”

“But you like me,” the words were out of your mouth faster than you could stop them and you panicked for a moment. Oh how you hoped you didn’t read the signs wrong, so you decided to raise the bid and add all in.  “It’s okay, I like you, too.”

It looked like that was what Yoongi was waiting for because his smile softened, turning into a beaming one.

“Good. Now kiss me properly,” he sighed, out of breath already and you lean forward slowly this time, engraving each passing second and the look on Yoongi’s face, the way his eyes fluttered close and his hot breath fanned over your mouth while your soulmate compasses danced to the rapid beat of your hearts.

You will never forget the day when you fell in love with your soulmate.

#bangtan bookclub #sfwbangtan #bts writing squad #btswriters #series: once upon a fairytale #stories #bts fluff #suga fluff #suga scenarios #bts oneshot #bts scenarios #soulmate au #sleeping beauty au #friends to lovers

[bellringermal]

I have a low key headcanon that gherman used to craft things like dolls in his spare time before the hunters workshop perhaps as a means to make extra money, albeit smaller ones for children, which explains why he made such a lifelike doll so easily and maybe even why he's good at making clothes and weapons for hunters

Daisy and I have a pretty similar headcanon :)

Gehrman was always fascinated by small, pretty things since childhood. He used to cut figurines from newspapers and make little toys out of straw and scraps of clothing that he then had to keep hidden in a box under the floorboards because his father would’ve considered them girly and infantile.

[Pic from “Andersen. Zhizn bezlyubvi” because obscure period dramas are my jam. And if you read some of my posts before, you probably know that my fan fiction, from which 90% of my lore theories stemmed from, is a massive mixture of period dramas/gothic novels/historical figures’ biographies and even fucking Tchaikovsky ballets that I like very very VERY much.)

He hadn’t the worst childhood ever, but it was tough for a scrawny, quiet boy like him to be forced into combat training at such a young age. When he got hired at Byrgenwerth (and escaped his father’s clutches, so to speak) he could finally do whatever the heck he wanted in his free time and Dores and Edmund, being respectively a scholar and a handyman, encouraged his love for books and for tinkering with anything within range.

In our story, Master Willem selects his students and assistants because of their special talents and is (to an almost unbelievable level :P) able to ‘see greatness’ in them even before said greatness manifests. Willem is, to put it simply, a talent scout :P That is why he often recruits extremely young people like Caryll (9) and Micolash (14) only to then groom them into loyal students while enhancing their innate abilities.

With Gehrman, it was no different. And when many of his ‘hobbies’ became an integral part of his job, he began to take them really seriously and actually devoted entire years of work and research to the development of the spring mechanisms that made trick weapons possible and basic hunting gear, reason why all future hunter uniforms are based on that first model that he made out his own everyday clothes. When asked about his profession, he doesn’t see himself as a ‘weaponsmith’ but as ‘something more akin to a clockmaker’.

He obviously has his own (quite creepy) collection of little dolls and carillons but he keeps it in his room reason why not many of his students are aware of it, just like they don’t know about his secret stash of cheap romance novels :P. The rough instruments of death that he crafts at the workshop with Archibald’s assistance are in stark contrast with the delicate clockwork toys that are found on his desk next to the tiny tools and watchmaker magnifying glasses.

[Pics from “Nutcracker the motion picture” 1986]

Lil extract from my fanfic below the cut because I think I’m getting decent at translating this crap XD

[Picture from ‘Crimson Peak’. Thomas Sharpe lil workshop in the attic. It’s a trope and I love it.]

As she looked around, Maria could see that that wasn’t the workplace of an amateur. Screwdrivers, pincers and labeled boxes brimming with bolts and stain springs of any size filled the dustless shelves of cedar wood as two big oil lamps lit the quiet, humble room of the First Hunter uniformly projecting their glow on the desk. The floral wallpaper was almost completely hidden by three huge cork boards covered in blueprints and heavy metal chains ran down from the ceiling just like they did in the actual Workshop. But instead of dangling siderite blades, what floated over the noblewoman’s head were cogs as big as those she has seen on the pedestal of the Lunarium’s telescope.

It was then that she remembered that Gehrman was also asked to keep the elevator at the edge of the woods in working order so that students could get from Yharnam’s outskirts straight to the college without venturing too far into the forest.

How many tasks was that man assigned to, again? Hunter Chief, groundskeeper, weaponsmith, handyman… Master Willem better be paying him generously, she thought as she wondered if her teacher’s room was always that organized and clean or if he had tidied it up for the occasion.

No matter the answer, it felt like something WAS out of place. Actually, it felt like something was missing. As she scanned the shelves, one in particular caught her eye. Like the others, it was perfectly clean but instead of harboring meticulously organized tools and parts it was empty except for one small, bizarre shiny thing that Maria mistook for a golden egg at first glance. She took the weird object in her hands only to discover a small key inserted in its round side. A wind-up toy? She herself owned a few of those when she was little, one had the shape of a carousel and its curtains lifted once the key was turned, revealing a row of tiny running horses. What was hidden inside that golden egg? A mechanical goose, perhaps? She knew the fairytale by heart.

Won by her own curiosity and without even asking herself why stern old Gehrman would even possess such a thing, she turned the key three times, balancing the egg on the palm of her gloved hand. When the mechanism clicked, she realized that something was not working as intended since the petals in which the golden-finished surface was split into could barely move. Perhaps it was broken, or some parts were missing. Still, the tiny clockwork prisoner trapped inside the shell kept bouncing and clicking inside the egg, almost begging to be freed. She gently pressed upon the tip, parting the petals with her thumbs as a twinkling sound filled the silent room with a familiar tune. It was the central portion of a folk song often sang during weddings and Spring celebrations. Finally free from its golden shell, a graceful female figure now danced on the huntress palm. The little automata was unpainted and naked, clearly unfinished, with only a ribbon tied around her metal torso, probably marking her waist point before a dress could be made for her. Her hair was cast in copper, each lock finely chiseled.

Gehrman snatched the toy from her fingers before she could even realize he had entered the room. How did she remain oblivious to his presence for so long, she didn’t know, but the entrancing dance of the little figure was most likely to be blamed.

“I-it’s not finished! Don’t look at it!”

“Have you made it?” She asked with a smile, seeing how he cradled the little thing in the cup of his large, bony hands. “It’s lovely. I am no expert, but it looks really well made.”

He nervously brushed the back of his head “Well… thanks.”

“I didn’t know you were into such cute little things. It… suits you. Somehow.” The ballerina was still spinning on her pointy feet when the First Hunter placed the carillon on the shelf and turned to the desk.

“Have you brought your gun, Maria? Let me see what’s wrong with it.”

She blinked. She had almost forgotten why she came to the hunter’s room in the first place. “Oh, yes I believe the flintlock is broken. Or at least parts of it.“

“Let me see it.” She handed the Evelyn to her teacher, but her attention was still on the little doll. “Have you made more of these?” She asked as the mechanism came to a stop and the ballerina froze in place, her body tilted in a slightly unnatural position.

“Of what?”

Maria raised an eyebrow, unamused. “Wind-up toys, Gehrman.”

The silver screwdriver he was using to remove the flintlock from the beautiful wooden frame of the Cainhurst gun shook between his fingers, but a warm smile appeared on his lips. “It’s a guilty pleasure of mine.”

Maria rested her back against one of the shelves “Why ‘guilty’? I know people that would pay a fortune for stuff like this.”

“I guess I could devote myself to it once I retire. If I don’t get killed first.” “Gehrman’s toyshop, mh? Doesn’t sound bad. You could make tiny stain hunters and beasts that open their jaws and roar. I used to steal my cousin’s stain soldiers and wooden swords. Why do boys always get the better toys?“

“Not fond of your dolls, I presume.”

“I had so many, but truly cherished only one of them, Janice, a brunette. She was engaged to one of Ghislain’s stain officers even if she was almost three times his size. Perhaps he went to war because he was afraid of her.”

Gehrman chuckled, as his capable hands carefully replaced the gun’s splinter “I’m not sure about that, as our dear Konrad proves, some men really like their women tall.”

Maria sat down on the desk next to him to watch him work, oblivious to the sudden blushing of his cheeks now that her well-toned thighs were so close to his elbow.

“Janice really looked a bit like Gratia now that I think about it. Now… why don’t you tell me where you hid all your other creations? That empty shelf is really suspicious, you know?” She teased him, crossing her legs.

It was in moments like that that Gehrman questioned his own judgemental skills. Was she truly flirting with him or was it all just wishful thinking?

He snapped out of confusion bringing back his attention to the Evelyn “You have a good eye.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“I stored them all in the drawer right under the shelf. Not so imaginative. Nor that far from their original placement.”

She didn’t move, her eyes wandering on the First Hunter’s angular face. “Why have you hid them?”

“At times I just feel more comfortable around machines than people.” he admitted, letting out a long sigh. “At times I even prefer beasts to people.”

Maria threw her head back, dangling her legs like a child on a swing. “Don’t we all?”

He moved the gun closer to the oil lamp “…it should work now. But let’s wait till it’s morning to try it. We don’t want to scare everyone to death by firing a few shots so late at night.”

“Definitely not. Thank you so much, Gehrman.” She took the short musket from the man’s hand and placed it back in her holster. “So, about that drawer…” “FINE! I’ll show you.” He blurted and Maria returned his slightly annoyed glance with a smile.

Gehrman rose from his chair, suddenly reminding the young woman of his impressive height. Considering his quiet and reserved behavior, it was easy to imagine him as one of those small fellows who always get trampled upon in boisterous crowds, but his appearance didn’t fit such a mental image at all.

He crossed the room and pull out a key from the pocket of his sage green vest to open the mysterious drawer. “Promise me you won’t laugh.”

Maria tilted her head “I can’t promise such a thing. Your expression is already pretty hilarious to look at.”

He sighed again, slowly opening the drawer.  It was well worth the risk. After all, Maria looked even prettier when she smiled.

#anon ask #headcanons #gehrman the first hunter

[everettwilkinson]

POLITICO Playbook: NYT on TRUMP vs. the FBI

GOOD MORNING, MR. PRESIDENT — PALM BEACH POST FRONT PAGE: The president greeting a crowd at Palm Beach International Airport. Featured prominently in the shot: someone holding a sign that says I love President Trump. HEADLINE: “Tax bill signed, Trump returns to Mar-a-Lago … President touts Rep. Ron DeSantis for Florida governor”. A1 PDF http://bit.ly/2tB3DnL

— TRUMP boosted DeSantis — “a brilliant young leader, Yale and then Harvard Law,” he said on Twitter — for the governorship. Remember, a few weeks ago, DeSantis traveled with the president on Air Force One to Florida when he rallied in Pensacola.

Story Continued Below

Happy Saturday morning. Paul Ryan’s family’s Christmas card http://politi.co/2C2HylC … Video of Ryan’s Christmas message to the troops http://bit.ly/2Bq0fff … Joe Biden’s family holiday card, which is of the VP’s 5 grandchildren (and German Shepherd Champ) this Thanksgiving on the beach in Nantucket http://politi.co/2BjO8k5

TARA PALMERI (@tarapalmeri): “Living up to ‘working vacation,’ Trump met with Arizona Senate candidate Kelli Ward [Friday] at Mar-a-Lago. Doubt McConnell would be pleased.”

— CNN’S KEVIN LIPTAK: (@Kevinliptakcnn): “In Palm Beach yesterday, @POTUS and @kelliwardaz exchanged pleasantries but did not meet, I’m told by the White House.”

The most reliable politics newsletter.

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NYT’S MAGGIE HABERMAN and ADAM GOLDMAN on A1: “F.B.I. Director Wants to Move Forward, but the President Is Making His Job Harder”: “When President Trump tapped Christopher A. Wray to be his next F.B.I. director, it signaled a clear break from the tenure of James B. Comey, whom Mr. Trump had grown to distrust and eventually fired.

“It seemed Mr. Trump would let his handpicked F.B.I. director do his work unimpeded, giving Mr. Wray some breathing room. ‘I know that he will again serve his country as a fierce guardian of the law and model of integrity,’ the president said in June.

“But nearly five months since Mr. Wray started the job, Mr. Trump has not made Mr. Wray’s life easier as he seeks to restore the public’s confidence in the country’s premier law enforcement agency — one that the president says is in ‘Tatters.’

“Mr. Trump’s verbal assaults have put Mr. Wray and his leadership team in a difficult position. Mr. Wray is trying to move past his predecessor’s era and make sure there is not a whiff of politics at the F.B.I. He has promised the F.B.I.’s work would be based on the ‘facts, the law and the impartial pursuit of justice — period.’ … In private conversations, Mr. Trump has groused that Mr. Wray has not swiftly removed people whom he perceives as loyal to Mr. Comey.” http://nyti.ms/2l2vS7N

— NOT IN TATTERS, via S.F. Chronicle’s Evan Sernoffsky and Lizzie Johnson: “A 26-year-old tow truck driver from Modesto was accused Friday of planning an Islamic State-inspired terror attack over the holidays on San Francisco’s Pier 39, only to find out that his would-be partners were undercover FBI agents.

“Everitt Aaron Jameson, a onetime high school wrestler who converted to Islam after being discharged from the Marines and losing custody of his two children, was charged at U.S. District Court in Sacramento with attempting to provide material support to a foreign terrorist organization.” http://bit.ly/2l2qrWg

SCOOP – “Trump-supporting singer claims Lewandowski slapped her butt at recent party,” by Annie Karni: “President Donald Trump’s former campaign manager, Corey Lewandowski, has been accused of unwanted touching by a singer and longtime Trump supporter whose potential ‘MAGA’-inspired congressional bid in Florida has been endorsed by the president himself. Joy Villa – who drew headlines for wearing a ‘Make America Great Again’ dress to the Grammys earlier this year – was celebrating the president’s first year in office at a holiday party at the Trump International Hotel in Washington in late November when Lewandowski slapped her behind. After she objected, he dismissed her concerns and slapped her behind again, Villa said in an interview Friday. Villa, 31, said she was circulating in the ballroom of the invite-only party with a friend, who brought her over to introduce her to Lewandowski, whom she had never met. …

“‘I’m wearing this silver suit and stretchy pants, and after the photo, he smacks my ass really hard,’ Villa said. ‘It was completely demeaning and shocking.’ In the moment, Villa said, she confronted him. ‘I said, “Watch it.” Half-joking, I said, “I can report you for sexual harassment.”’ Lewandowski’s response, she said, was almost as shocking as the original slap. ‘He said, “Go ahead, I work in the private sector,”’ Villa recalled. ‘Then he smacks my ass again.’ Villa’s recollection of the incident was corroborated by a friend who witnessed the exchange. … Lewandowski did not respond to multiple calls, emails and texts requesting a comment.” http://politi.co/2DCJMWK

PUERTO RICO GETS THE SHORT END OF THE STICK — THE BACKSTORY — “How politics screwed Puerto Rico out of billions in disaster aid,” by John Bresnahan and Heather Caygle: “On Wednesday night, as Speaker Paul Ryan (R-Wis.) and his top lieutenants struggled to pass the disaster aid package — as well as a funding bill to keep the government open — House Majority Whip Steve Scalise reached out to Rep. Nydia Velazquez (D-N.Y.) with an offer: Would Democrats back the disaster supplemental if Republicans added billions in Medicaid funding for Puerto Rico?

“At that point, Scalise and other GOP leaders were in a bind. They didn’t know if they could pass the disaster aid bill because Texas and Florida lawmakers wanted more money for their states. Members from those delegations were threatening to bring down legislation to keep the government open, triggering a politically embarrassing shutdown for Republicans since they control the Congress and White House.

“In the end, Velazquez, who was born in Puerto Rico and has been working to get more federal funding for the island territory, turned down the offer. That decision has set off fierce partisan finger-pointing, while denying hurricane-wracked Puerto Rico of at least $4.6 billion in extra money to provide Medicaid to poor residents, according to Republicans. Democrats counter that Republicans should have just put the money in the bill in the first place without all the political maneuvering.” http://politi.co/2Bqmh1F

****** A message from Charter Communications: Charter Communications is over 93,000 employees strong, and we are committed to strengthening our highly trained, insourced, diverse workforce by hiring 20,000 employees by 2020. Our growing team allows us to continue to drive the innovation that will power the future of connectivity and better serve our customers. This is how: http://bit.ly/2ASSN0d ******

THE NEW PRESIDENTIAL COIN — “It’s ‘very gold’: The presidential coin undergoes a Trumpian makeover,” by WaPo’s David Nakamura and Lisa Rein: “The presidential seal has been replaced by an eagle bearing President Trump’s signature. The eagle’s head faces right, not left, as on the seal. The 13 arrows representing the original states have disappeared. And the national motto, ‘E pluribus unum’ — a Latin phrase that means ‘Out of many, one’ — is gone. Instead, both sides of the coin feature Trump’s campaign slogan, ‘Make America Great Again.’ The changes don’t stop there. In addition to his signature, Trump’s name appears three times on the coin, which is thicker than those made for past presidents. And forget the traditional subdued silver and copper: Trump’s coin, a White House aide marveled, is ‘very gold.’” With a pic of the coin http://wapo.st/2BYPDYp

ATTN. BILL GATES, RUPERT MURDOCH, ET AL. — “The Price of Freedom for Saudi Arabia’s Richest Man: $6 Billion,” by WSJ’s Margherita Stancati in Riyadh, Summer Said in Dubai and Benoit Faucon in London: “Saudi authorities are demanding at least $6 billion from Saudi Prince al-Waleed bin Talal to free him from detention, people familiar with the matter said, potentially putting the global business empire of one of the world’s richest men at risk. … The prince’s fortune is estimated at $18.7 billion by Forbes, which would make him the Middle East’s wealthiest individual. But Prince al-Waleed has indicated that he believes raising and handing over that much cash would be an admission of guilt and would require him to dismantle the financial empire he has built over 25 years.” http://on.wsj.com/2DC9I4w

RESULTS — “Sessions orders review of abandoned Hezbollah-linked drug prosecutions: Inquiry follows POLITICO report that potential cases languished amid Obama drive for Iran nuclear deal,” by Josh Gerstein: “Attorney General Jeff Sessions has ordered the Justice Department to dig into allegations in a POLITICO report that a series of potential drug prosecutions related to the pro-Iranian militant group Hezbollah were abandoned as the Obama administration pressed to strike a deal with Iran over its nuclear program.

“Sessions indicated that he was troubled by allegations that Project Cassandra — the Drug Enforcement Administration’s drive to target Hezbollah’s foray into drug trafficking — ran into high-level roadblocks that stymied many of the cases agents wanted to bring as well as efforts to get suspects extradited from overseas to the U.S.

“‘Operations designed to investigate and prosecute terrorist organizations that are also fueling that drug crisis must be paramount in this administration,’ Sessions said in a statement released to reporters Friday evening. ‘While I am hopeful that there were no barriers constructed by the last administration to allowing DEA agents to fully bring all appropriate cases under Project Cassandra, this is a significant issue for the protection of Americans. We will review these matters and give full support to investigations of violent drug trafficking organizations.’” http://politi.co/2BVWrnb … Josh Meyer’s original story http://politi.co/2yR68A9

THE INVESTIGATIONS … — JARED WATCH: “Prosecutors Said to Seek Kushner Records From Deutsche Bank,” by NYT’s Ben Protess, Jessica Silver-Greenberg and David Enrich: “Federal prosecutors in Brooklyn have sought bank records about entities associated with the family company of Jared Kushner, President Trump’s son-in-law and senior adviser, according to four people briefed on the matter. In recent weeks, prosecutors from the United States attorney’s office in the Eastern District of New York subpoenaed records from Deutsche Bank, the giant German financial institution that has lent hundreds of millions of dollars to the Kushner family real estate business. … It is not clear which records were sought by prosecutors, what they are seeking to learn from them or to what degree, if any, they directly involve Mr. Kushner.” http://nyti.ms/2BFotGH

— “Top FBI official linked to reporter who broke Trump dossier story,” by Kyle Cheney and Rachael Bade: “House Republicans are investigating contact between the FBI’s top lawyer and a Mother Jones reporter in the weeks before the left-leaning outlet broke the first news story about the existence of a disputed dossier alleging ties between President Donald Trump and the Kremlin, according to two congressional GOP sources who described documents linking the two men. The GOP sources said the documents — made available recently to lawmakers by the Department of Justice — revealed that James Baker, the FBI’s general counsel, communicated with Mother Jones reporter David Corn in the weeks leading up to the November 2016 election. Corn was the first to report the existence of the dossier on Oct. 31 and that it was compiled by a former high-level western spy. … Corn denied that Baker was a source for his story on the dossier.” http://politi.co/2BV96Xl

ELENA SCHNEIDER: “The next special election that could portend a Democratic wave”: “A March special election in a conservative-leaning stretch of western Pennsylvania that Donald Trump won by 20 points is the next big test of whether a Democratic wave will sweep the party into the House majority for the first time 2010.

“The congressional seat left vacant by ex-Rep. Tim Murphy, an anti-abortion Republican who allegedly encouraged a lover to terminate a pregnancy, has all the makings of the next major special election showdown. It pits Democrat Conor Lamb, a young, telegenic Marine veteran with a political pedigree, against Rick Saccone, a Trump-supporting GOP state representative with a long voting record and doubters among local Republicans.” http://politi.co/2pl0QNN

TRUMP INC. — “With Trump in the White House, the Family Business Takes It Down a Notch,” by NYT’s Steve Eder, Ben Protess and Eric Lipton: “When the president turned over daily operations of the Trump Organization to his eldest sons, Eric and Donald Jr., they spoke excitedly about picking up where their father left off. But the … Trump Organization has taken on a distinctly un-Trump-like feel this year: Its ambition for new development is subdued, and the signature showmanship for announcing deals is largely absent. Six months before his election, President Trump told The New York Times that his business had about 120 deals in the works worldwide. … Today, the pipeline of potential deals sits at about 30, all in the United States, according to the company.” http://nyti.ms/2DCLUh2

WHITE HOUSE ARRIVAL LOUNGE – “White House expected to tap new deputy director of Domestic Policy Council,” by Eliana Johnson and Andrew Restuccia: “Lance Leggitt is poised to replace Paul Winfree as deputy director of the White House Domestic Policy Council, according to two people familiar with the move. Until recently, Leggitt, a veteran of the George W. Bush administration, served as chief of staff to former Health and Human Services Secretary Tom Price. In the Bush administration, he served both at HHS and in the White House, where he focused on health policy.” http://politi.co/2pjOKob

PHOTO DU JOUR: President Donald Trump signs $1.5 trillion sweeping tax code overhaul legislation into law in the Oval Office on Dec. 22. | Chip Somodevilla/Getty Images

THE LATEST ON THE BAN — “Appeals court rules against Trump travel ban 3.0,” by Josh Gerstein: “A federal appeals court ruled that the latest version of President Donald Trump’s controversial travel ban policy should be partially blocked because the president appears to have exceeded his authority in issuing the directive. However, the unanimous decision issued Friday by a three-judge panel of the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals will have no immediate effect because of a temporary ruling the Supreme Court issued earlier this month allowing the administration to fully implement the ban as it appealed a pair of injunctions issued against the policy.

“The policy Trump issued in September limits issuance of visas to citizens of six majority-Muslim countries and two nations with governments sharply at odds with the U.S., North Korea and Venezuela. 9th Circuit Judges Michael Daly Hawkins, Ronald Gould and Richard Paez issued a 71-page joint opinion saying the president’s order arrogates power that Congress reserved through legislation it passed.” http://politi.co/2BDRX7T

THE ADMINISTRATION — “Democrats Claim Victory After Yet Another Trump Environmental Nomination Derails,” by HuffPost’s Alexander C. Kaufman: “Kathleen Hartnett-White, President Donald Trump’s pick to lead the Council on Environmental Quality, was just one Senate vote away from becoming the White House’s top environmental adviser. But late Thursday night, the controversial former Texas regulator returned to square one.

“The Senate sent her nomination back to the White House as part of a deal to close out the legislative session before the holidays. … Trump is now required to re-nominate her, forcing Hartnett-White to start the process over, including a new vote before the Senate Environment and Public Works Committee. … [She had] a bruising hearing at which she struggled to answer basic science questions and repeatedly contradicted herself. Videos of her stammered responses went viral.” http://bit.ly/2zkKdBH … Video of her hearing http://bit.ly/2BVYaJb

YASHAR ALI in HUFFPOST — “The Miss America Emails: How The Pageant’s CEO Really Talks About The Winners”: “Two Miss America board members served as a virtual rubber stamp for [Sam] Haskell’s behavior: Tammy Haddad, a media consultant and D.C. power connector; and Lynn Weidner, a Las Vegas socialite. And though Friedman was never a board member, he regularly sent offensive and sexist messages to Haskell, which Haskell often responded to by indicating he thought Friedman was funny or endorsed what Friedman was saying. For this story, HuffPost reviewed nearly three years of internal emails provided by two sources.

“They reveal a CEO who regularly wrote and responded to unprofessional, offensive emails about the women who poured their hearts into the pageants and the organization he was leading. (Update: The board suspended Haskell on Friday, hours after an open letter from 49 former Miss Americas called for top-level resignations, adding, ‘The Board will be conducting an in-depth investigation into alleged inappropriate communications and the nature in which they were obtained. In addition, the Board wishes to reaffirm our commitment to the education and empowerment of young women, supporting them in every way possible.’” http://bit.ly/2kZmX6X

ON THE WORLD STAGE — “Russian submarines are prowling around vital undersea cables. It’s making NATO nervous,” by WaPo’s Michael Birnbaum in Brussels: “Russian submarines have dramatically stepped up activity around undersea data cables in the North Atlantic, part of a more aggressive naval posture that has driven NATO to revive a Cold War-era command, according to senior military officials. The apparent Russian focus on the cables, which provide Internet and other communications connections to North America and Europe, could give the Kremlin the power to sever or tap into vital data lines, the officials said. Russian submarine activity has increased to levels unseen since the Cold War, they said, sparking hunts in recent months for the elusive watercraft.” http://wapo.st/2Bob0yH

— “This Venezuelan mogul met Pence. Is he trying to broker an exit strategy for Maduro?” by Antonio Maria Delgado, Kyra Gurney and Franco Ordonez in the Miami Herald: “A Venezuelan millionaire declared persona non grata by the City of Miami for his alleged ties to the Maduro regime is trying to broker an exit strategy with the Trump administration for his beleaguered government, according to various Washington sources.

“Raúl Gorrín, criticized for the controversial purchase in 2013 of the then pro-opposition news channel Globovisión, has paid Ballard Partners — the firm of President Donald Trump’s former Florida lobbyist — $450,000 since June through the U.S. subsidiary of the Venezuelan TV network, ostensibly to help the company expand into U.S. markets. … According to three sources familiar with his lobbying efforts in Washington … the media mogul is trying to establish himself as a broker between Caracas and the Trump administration, peddling the idea that President Nicolás Maduro and other key government leaders might be willing to negotiate a transition in Venezuela in exchange for amnesty.” http://hrld.us/2pgP8DP

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MEDIAWATCH — “James Rosen Out at Fox News,” by TVNewser’s Chris Ariens: “Rosen, a stalwart of Fox News Channel’s Washington D.C. bureau, is leaving the network, TVNewser has learned. ‘James Rosen is exiting the company at the end of the year,’ a Fox News spokesperson confirms … Rosen, 49, has been with Fox News since 1999, 3 years after the channel launched. As the network’s Chief Washington Correspondent, he often reported for Special Report, but was seen throughout FNC’s programming day.” http://bit.ly/2BEKtkU

— “Fox News website beefs up and ‘goes a little Breitbart’,” by Jason Schwartz: “A sleeping media giant may be about to wake up: Fox News’ website — known for its high traffic, but not strong identity —is staffing up and sharpening its voice in hopes of equaling the impact of its increasingly pro-Trump television partner. A website that had been more closely identified with Shepard Smith’s brand of reporting has now moved closer to the mold of Sean Hannity, Tucker Carlson and Laura Ingraham, according to former staff members. ‘The approach has gone much more the way the prime-time programming works,’ said one, ‘where it feels more agenda or opinion driven, or combative.’

“According to Noah Kotch, who took over six months ago as Fox News digital editor in chief and vice president, his staff has grown to more than 100 full-time staffers, an increase of about 45 percent in the past year. The ramp-up signals that digital is now a major priority for Rupert Murdoch’s news outlet, Kotch said, adding that there is an increased focus on collaboration with TV.” http://politi.co/2zkIg8c

— ELIZABETH VARGAS is leaving ABC News next May after more than two decades at the network. http://dailym.ai/2D2J046

CLICKER – “The nation’s cartoonists on the week in politics,” edited by Matt Wuerker – 11 keepers http://politi.co/2CWjIEI

GREAT WEEKEND READS, curated by Daniel Lippman, filing from San Miguel de Allende, Mexico (http://nym.ag/2kyR1af):

— “On the Front Lines of the GOP’s Civil War,” by Sam Tanenhaus in Esquire: For Never Trumpers, “Trumpism is more than a freakish blight on the republic. It is a moral test.” http://bit.ly/2BxsYTm (h/t Longform.org)

— “Trump has given North Korea ‘the greatest gift ever’” – Q&A by Vox’s Ezra Klein with Barbara Demick: “‘People are divided up by their loyalty to the regime. You have a core class and a wavering class and a hostile class. If you had an ancestor who was a landlord or a Japanese collaborator you have tainted blood. If you have any relative who’s defected or become some sort of dissident, the entire family is punished down to the third degree of cousins. That is one way they keep control.’” http://bit.ly/2kyLRen (h/t TheBrowser.com)

— “Deliverance From 27,000 Feet,” by NYT’s John Branch – per Longreads.com’s description: “In May 2016, four Bengali mountaineers attempted to achieve a lifelong dream: to summit Mount Everest. After an egregiously late start to their summit attempt, they were abandoned by their guides and left to die on the mountain. Only one survived. John Branch reports on the ill-fated expedition and how a team of sherpas recovered the frozen bodies of Goutam Ghosh and Paresh Nath from 27,000 ft above sea level.” http://nyti.ms/2kUq8gg

— “The Insane True Story Of How ‘Titanic’ Got Made,” by Sarah Marshall in BuzzFeed: “James Cameron’s epic ‘$190 million chick flick’ spawned ‘Leomania’ and presented us with a new kind of wish fulfillment.” http://bzfd.it/2paKNBU

— “Greetings From Palau, The Micronesian Archipelago That Baseball Built,” by David Walter in Deadspin in Koror, Palau: “What would a country run by baseball players look like? Would it be a sabermetrics-driven technocracy? A clutch-obsessed theocracy? A cup-adjusting macho dystopia? This isn’t a thought experiment. It’s happening right now in Palau, a tiny archipelago of some 20,000 souls located in the Western Pacific that is currently playing host to a radical experiment in letting the sluggers run the show.” http://bit.ly/2CQwqoE

— “‘Will They Take Me, Too?’” by Brooke Jarvis in the N.Y. Times Magazine: “More than a thousand children are counting on Nora Sándigo to become their guardian if their undocumented parents are deported. How many of those promises will she now have to keep?” http://nyti.ms/2zcDlWT

— “The Dark Optimism of Paul Thomas Anderson,” by Zach Baron in GQ: “His parables about cruel and powerful men have made him the most admired filmmaker alive, but they’ve had the side effect of making Paul Thomas Anderson seem a little down on the state of humanity. And he is! He definitely is. But, as he told Zach Baron on a sunny afternoon in the San Fernando Valley, his new movie, Phantom Thread—a romance about an uncompromising man who meets his comeuppance—gives away what he really believes: There just might be hope for us yet.” http://bit.ly/2kVvibV

— “Watching a Fall: The allure and shame of watching America’s last public hanging,” by Christine Spillson in Longreads: “It was a story of a woman sheriff and a humane hangman. It was the story of a county that had elected to charge a man with rape rather than with murder, though the prosecutor believed him guilty of both, because in Kentucky one could punish rape by a public hanging in the town where the crime occurred; a murderer would be executed privately by the state with an electric chair.” http://bit.ly/2BY27iX

— “‘Welch’s Grape Jelly with Alcohol’: How Trump’s Horrific Wine Became the Ultimate Metaphor for His Presidency,” by Corby Kummer in February’s Vanity Fair: “After the deadly Charlottesville riots, Donald Trump responded by . . . plugging his family winery in Virginia. Aided by an expert oenophile, the author takes the bait—and tastes the pain.” http://bit.ly/2BW6cEc

— “Cadavers in the ballroom: Doctors practice their craft in America’s favorite hotels,” by Elizabeth Culliford in Reuters as part of its series “The Body Trade”: “Big names in hospitality, from Disney to Hilton and Hyatt, have a little-known sideline: They rent space to physicians who train on cadavers and body parts. There is scant regulation, and some public-health specialists warn of biosafety risks.” http://reut.rs/2kVdJsr

— “China’s Selfie Obsession,” by Jiayang Fan in the New Yorker: “I asked a number of Chinese friends how long it takes them to edit a photo before posting it on social media. The answer for most of them was about forty minutes per face; a selfie taken with a friend would take well over an hour.” http://bit.ly/2zaPhsl

— “What Do You Call a World That Can’t Learn From Itself?” by Umair Haque in Eudaimonia: “There is a myth of exceptionalism in America that prevents Americans from looking outward. It is made up of littler myths about greed being good, the weak deserving nothing, society being an arena for the survival of the fittest — and America is busy recounting those myths, not learning from the world. The swiftest way to learn is to look at what others are doing and copy what works.” http://bit.ly/2DrEn4q

— “Shipwreck Is Everywhere,” by A.E. Stallings in Hudson Review: “If we go by literature, a sailor who has landed in a strange country could end up on an island with monsters or cannibals, could be turned into a pig or a rock or a tree, could become the captive or slave of a witch or a goddess, or, in very rare cases, could end up married to the princess and living happily ever after.” http://bit.ly/2CQvXTl

— “The Death of Shopping,” by Alice Lloyd in American Consequences: “Lavish experiences can be more widely and effectively flaunted via social media than beautiful items, of course, which are best coveted by a discrete audience of first-hand witnesses.” http://bit.ly/2BwEC16

— “The Greatest Leap, Part 3: The triumph and near-tragedy of the first Moon landing,” by Eric Berger in Ars Technica: “Nearly half a century later, the Moon landings still take our breath away. On July 20, 1969, NASA pulled off arguably the greatest technical achievement of the 20th century. Certainly, it has no equal yet this century. Humanity reached so far, so fast in the 1960s that even today we have yet to match their achievements in space. Truthfully, we haven’t even come close.” http://bit.ly/2BujzvR

— “The Art of Conducting,” by Terry Teachout in Commentary Magazine: “The right hand beats time; it sets the tempo or pulse of the music. It can hold a baton. The left hand turns pages, cues instrumentalists with an invitational or pointing gesture, and generally indicates the quality of the notes. Beyond these elements, all bets are off. Boulez and Stokowski conducted with their bare hands. Bernstein and Beecham gestured extravagantly. Furtwängler and von Karajan conducted so unclearly that it is hard to see how the orchestras they led were able to follow them.” http://bit.ly/2p8zRFb (h/t ALDaily.com)

BIRTHDAYS: Steve Thomma, executive director of the White House Correspondents Association, former president of the WHCA, and the pride of Chicago … Chris Peacock, former aide to Lloyd Bentsen and Robert Rubin at Treasury as well as volunteer at the 2016 and 2012 presidential debates (hat tips: David Jackson) … former Gen. Wes Clark is 73 … Fox News’ Shannon Bream … Politico’s Alyssa DiBlasi … Steve Hills … John Russell IV, principal at Dentons … Claire Kennedy, talent operations at Axios … Julio Negron, creative director at WaPo … Adam Milakofsky … Meghan Stabler … Rep. Dave Loebsack (D-Iowa.) is 65 … Rep. Michael Burgess (R-Texas) is 67 … Patrick Burgwinkle, DCCC deputy comms director … Tom Epstein (h/t Jon Haber) … Kelley Moore, press secretary for Sen. Shelley Moore Capito (R-W.Va.) … Jared Gilmour … Hoyer alum Dan Shott, now at SC Johnson, is 31 … Natasha Dabrowski …

… Zina Bash of the White House Counsel’s office … EPA’s Brittany Bolen (h/t Jahan Wilcox) … Edelman’s India Goodman … Melissa Ann Merz … Karenna Keane … Lauren Kahn, MBA candidate at Duke, celebrating “in South Africa on a game reserve to spend the day with lions and giraffes” … Audrey Kubetin … Fatima Noor … Jonathan Zucker is 46 … Hilly Novik of the Eurasia Group … Emil Pitkin, CEO of GovPredict … Elizabeth Bingold … Karen Roberts … Brennan Foley … Rasheq Zarif … Allison Dobson … Lauren Corbut … Lee Feinstein is 58 … Eddie Vedder … Rich Tarplin … Todd Boulanger … Carter Snead … Lucinda Guinn … Emperor Akihito of Japan is 84 … former first lady of France, Carla Bruni-Sarkozy, is 5-0 … David Smith … Mari Culver … Anna Hudek … Roy Behr … Maya Kumar … Irma Gonzalez … Doug Vilsack … Nicole Vance (h/ts Teresa Vilmain)

THE SHOWS, by @MattMackowiak, filing from Austin:

–ABC’s “This Week”: Sen. Jeff Flake (R-Ariz.) … Rep. Charlie Dent (R-Pa.) … panel: Cokie Roberts, Rich Lowry, Eugene Scott and Margaret Talev

–CNN’s “State of the Union”: Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.) … David Axelrod and Mark McKinnon. Panel: Paul Begala, Rick Santorum, Nina Turner and Amanda Carpenter

–“Fox News Sunday”: Marc Short … Sen. Ben Cardin (D-Md.). Panel: Gillian Turner, Bob Woodward, Chris Stirewalt and Juan Williams … “Power Player of the Week” with Wreaths Across America founder Morrill Worcester

–NBC’s “Meet the Press”: Political panel: Hugh Hewitt, Carol Lee, Eugene Robinson and Amy Walter … media panel: Claire Atkinson, Hal Boedeker, David Folkenflik and Gabe Sherman

–CBS’s “Face the Nation”: Panel: Margaret Brennan, Major Garrett, David Martin, Ed O’Keefe and Jeff Pegues … panel: Dan Balz, CBS News’ Anthony Salvanto and Karen Tumulty … Daniel Pink

–CNN’s “Inside Politics” with John King: Panel: Julie Pace, Michael Shear, Maeve Reston and Sahil Kapur

–CNN’s “Reliable Sources”: Panel: Sally Buzbee, Joanne Lipman and John Avlon … S.E. Cupp … Angie Holan

–Fox News’ “Sunday Morning Futures”: Rep. Pete King (R-N.Y.) … Jason Chaffetz … Gen. Jack Keane (Ret.) … Cameron and Tyler Winklevoss. Panel: Jessica Tarlov and James Freeman (substitute anchor: Fox Business anchor Trish Regan)

–Fox News’ “MediaBuzz”: Mollie Hemingway … Joe Trippi … pollster Frank Luntz … The Washington Examiner’s Susan Ferrechio

–C-SPAN: “The Communicators”: National Association of Broadcasters president and CEO Gordon Smith, questioned by Telecommunications Reports’ Paul Kirby … “Newsmakers”: Roger Stone, questioned by AP’s Tom LoBianco and Yahoo News’ Michael Isikoff … “Q&A”: Author and Heritage Foundation distinguished fellow Lee Edwards)

–Washington Times’ “Mack on Politics” weekly politics podcast with Matt Mackowiak (download on iTunes, Google Play, or Stitcher or listen at MackOnPolitics.com): Former Rep. Tom Davis (R-Va.).

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Solving Philadelphia’s Sports Talk Radio Problem

If you’re under the age of 50 and above the age of 15, it’s obvious that Philadelphia has a sports talk radio problem. This city is big enough for two separate stations to fill nearly 24-hours of original content every single day, so why do listeners have to restrain themselves from putting a boot through their radio after listening for an average of two minutes?

The answer isn’t an easy one, but I’d like to propose a potential four-step solution that I think will help improve sports talk radio in Philadelphia.

Step 1: Fill a room sky high in both the 97.5 Fanatic and 94 WIP studios with wheels of mozzarella, arms of salami, slabs of mortadella, Rocky Blu-rays, back issues of Playboy from 1984 and knock-off Chinese made Eagles jerseys.

Hang a sign from the door marked “Free.”

Step 2: Wait until room is filled. When at capacity, crack open door and throw in smoke bomb.

Step 3: Amidst confusion, send in army of interns with large burlap sacks. Stuff hosts into said sacks with notices of termination. Tag each host with tracking device to collect valuable data on the mating habits of the morbidly obese. Hire a forklift if interns alone cannot successfully remove hosts from their respective stations. Be prepared to widen doorways throughout each building. Unceremoniously dump fired, confused hosts in alleyway. Congratulate self on job well done.

Step 4: Hire new hosts.

Sure, it may seem harsh, but the unoriginality of the medium is so deeply entrenched in both stations that they need to be completely uprooted. They have such an incestuous relationship that it’s not a matter of “if” a fired host will find another job at the rival station, but only a matter of “when.” Rob Ellis. Anthony Gargano. Jon Marks. Tony Bruno. Mike Missanelli. All failed or otherwise flamed out at their respective stations…all found homes at the rival station.

Did Rob Ellis, the human equivalent of a deep coma, need TWO chances at TWO sports talk stations to put listeners to sleep? Did he really need a daily morning television show? I assure you his failures were NOT due to people being unable to see his weak-chinned face.

If someone’s tired schtick wasn’t getting ratings at WIP, it will CERTAINLY do better at The Fanatic! Anthony Gargano’s “cuz” act had worn out its welcome… uh, everywhere, so of course The Fanatic jumped at the opportunity to hire him to anchor its flagship morning show! At least they gave him a unique slant this time around with Brian Baldinger and human dynamo Maureen Crowley Williams. WHAT FRESH-FACED TALENT! The most interesting thing about Baldinger is his gnarled finger. Has anyone cared what he’s had to say in the past, oh, let’s make it a conservative 25 years? No. No they haven’t. But they’ll reinvent the morning show they will, one recycled bit after another. LET’S GO TO THE MEATLOCKER AND TALK TO FREDDIE MITCHELL FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME, WHAT A CRAZY MEATBALL! OH MAMA MIA.

(Just a side note for a moment, can each station please have a moratorium on booking Freddie Mitchell? He played four seasons, very poorly I might add, and he hasn’t stepped foot on a football field since 2004. Do we need to hear him complain about Donovan McNabb again? We do not. You were garbage, Freddie. It wasn’t McNabb’s fault that you washed out of the NFL. I do not need to hear another unsubstantiated story about how everyone on the team hated McNabb…which was probably true, but god damnit I don’t need to hear you tell it AD NAUSEAM.)

Wing Bowl was fun like 20 years ago, right? Tits, wings, huge slobs eating themselves into an early grave as greasy Angelo Cataldi cackles in the background and their soon-to-be widows beg them to stop, disappointed Wingette fathers…it’s a Philadelphia tradition! So what does The Fanatic do? Creates Fantasy Fest, an annual event that gives 35 mouthbreathers from Kensington the excuse to begin drinking at noon and ogle the one unlucky stripper from Delilah’s who is NOT getting paid enough to be there.

This caller to The Fanatic last weekend perfectly encapsulated the Fantasy Fest experience:

Caller: "Hey I just left Fantasy Fest."

Host: "Wasn't that the best party ever?!"

Caller: "I'm not going to lie, no." ::hangs up:

Perfect

— CogginToboggan (@CogginToboggan) August 26, 2017

I didn’t make that up. That was a real call. I don’t think I’ve enjoyed anything more that has been aired on The Fanatic.

The one host in the past decade who attempted to do anything different was Josh Innes, and he was ran out of town in his husky boy jeans faster than Pete Rose running to an alleged underage sex party.

Innes dared to step away from the tried and true Philadelphia sports talk formula of cliched topics and “hilarious” daily polls. You know the ones…. “Call in, we’re taking your top Philly guys who ever played linebacker for the Eagles…Jeremiah Trotter is up there for me, I tell ya. Call in, 610-632….”

For every one host or producer willing to try something different, there are 25 Jason Myrtetuses in the background rehashing and pushing the same old garbage. “How about a fake caller? He could call in when things are slow, really rile Mike up! Just make him black, don’t worry about it, we’ll call him Dwayne. He’ll be outrageous and say really stereotypical things that I think a black person would actually say if I knew any in real life. THINK OF THE RATINGS!”

In the words of the immortal Digital Underground, “It’s just the same old song.”

Here’s what one of the stations could actually do if they want to break the cycle: You know the person on your staff who is behind the scenes that has pitched an idea for a show that seems “out there” or “too different” from what you’re used to hearing on-air? Promote them to on-air. My god, do us all a favor. I beg of you.

Take a chance, get a different opinion on-air for a change. Do you really need to hear Mike Missanelli or Angelo Cataldi breathing heavily into a microphone every day and taking the contrarian view on EVERY SINGLE TOPIC because it “creates content?” Get a new voice on your airwaves, get someone who is going to take a chance, who will do something we haven’t heard a million times already, and who won’t publish terrible polls on Twitter. Spare us, please.

Or, better yet, listeners should just stop listening. Go ahead and put that foot through your radio and don’t replace it. Read the Coggin Toboggan and Crossing Broad instead. Fuck it. There are a ton of writers here now. Everyone here can mash their hands onto their keyboards and come up with semi-coherent sentences, I guarantee you that. WHAT AN ENDORSEMENT!

All angry emails and letter bombs from WIP and Fanatic hosts/producers should be addressed to Kyle Scott at Crossing Broad. He’s the one who allows this nonsense to be published on his site. [Editor’s note: Shaggy defense.]

Like what you saw? Did you only dry-heave once or twice reading this piece of garbage? Then follow me on Twitter @Coggintoboggan.

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This is where you get the real story. The stuff we can’t post. Several times per year we will hold subscriber-only events at local establishments where you can hang out with writers and contributors and find out about all the stuff we can’t post. This is the perfect place to, say, show you those angry emails from a leading sports talk radio Afternoon host. Or that T.O. pic. Or just gossip about the Philly sports media landscape. This may be worth the subscription price alone.

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Solving Philadelphia’s Sports Talk Radio Problem published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv