#how much do edibles cost?

[rancidarling]

hmhmbbv nothing is technically stopping me from trying drugs actually

#I feel as though I missed out on the titular teenage experience of getting pressured to do drugs #sowwy I'm still a pure little angel that gags after a shot of vodka like a pleb #alright alright #how much do edibles cost? #and where the actual fuck do I find a coffee shop #actually can some sketchy guy on the street just give me meth #I'll take it and probably end up killing someone :) #the only thing stopping me from doing anything destructive is my laziness and total lack of apathy #remove that and we're all in for a bad time :D #.... are mushrooms legal here? I swear I've seen a shop selling them in the capital #my brother described it as an interesting experience #but also I think I'd just have an absolute panic attack if I hallucinated anything #but idk it sounds interesting #..... oh what am I even talking about #I get a stomach ache just from drinking an energy drink #and I think I could take any sort of drugs ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ #r.r #drugs cw

[be-good-to-bugs]

you would think considering how much it loves sleeping that my body would, yknow, sleep when i ask it to. or even just when it has barely slept in days and im trying so hard to sleep

#the bin #uugghhhh i woke up at 1pm today bc my stupid idiot body refused to go to sleep at a reasonable time even tho i was alreday so sleep #deprived. i have to work at 6:30 tomorrow morning :/ so i guess i wont be sleeping till then bc i still have to clean stuff and shower #maybe maybe maybe ill get a nap in but idk. bleh. i hope after i get home my stupid body will sleep. its gonna have to bc i work 7 hours the #next day so i cant do that too sleep deprived. i really really hope i dont have to :( hhhh #i wanted so bad to get high last night mosty bc my body has been refusing to sleep this past week but my sister n her boyfriend didnt come #over so i wasnt able to get more edibles :( or boxes for packing. hhh. i need to move so soon! i have no idea what day its even gonna be yet #i badeky have an idea of how much its gonna cost either. they finally gave me a gas cost estimate afeyr ive been asking for 3 weeks #hhh. well. whatever. i only have 4 more shifts. im kinda sad tbh. i really like working here. my coworkers are so nice #tomorrow is probs the last time ill ever see my fav coworker. shes so nice. shes so nice she used he/him for me and calls me orb #i just mentioned the name in passing once after i changed my pronouns on my nametag and she noticed and she remember! #and before she used it for me she stopped and asked if i was comfortable with it or if i wanted to keep it private. i have never EVER met #another cis person who would even think to ask that. most cis people dont understand why you would care. shes like. the nicest person ive #ever ever met. why did i have to find such a great place to work in minnesota? well. even if i am super tired tomorrow morning itll probably #be ok. butbi really would prefer not to be. #i dont know why i havent been able to sleep properly. bleh. i do liek what edibles do to me its a fun time but its kinda annoying that i #cant use them very casually for sleep or pain. they incapacitate me for 14 hours minimum. #well. at least no matter how stressed i am abt everything. i will definitely be elsewhere in 18 days max. should be less than that. #i will miss this job and these coworkers but i am relived that i wont have to go to work for awhile. esp with this tooth pain. #and im so excited to be able to draw again! im glad im moving a month before artfight bc itll give me time to get shit prepped #i wanted so bad to participate last year but i wasnt able to come evn close to finishing any attacks bc i was too tired from working

[thecommunityoftrustworthysinks]

is it addict behavior, i ask myself while i scrape the remaining thc crystals out of my empty edible bag, to be doing this? no, i answer myself, but it is symptomatic of another mental health problem (dad never threw anything away)

#x #weed mention #drugs #these edibles were bad but they cost me so much money so i refuse to let any of it go to waste #i didn't want to buy them but by the time the cashier guy got the price up he had had to call someone and it had been like 15 minutes so. #like what was i gonna do say no put them back?? #he was also telling me about how he had no friends #hope he finds some

[reasonsforhope]

"Sunlight dapples the once-denuded forest floor as saplings spread their branches and leaves overhead, slowly forming a lush canopy.

Beside each young tree, a sign notes its species. Lupuna, says one, the colloquial Peruvian term, and below that its scientific name, Ceiba pentandra — in other words, a kapok tree, known for its cotton-like fibers. Huito, says another sign, or Geinpa americana, which produces edible gray berries.

Each sapling is distinct, a reflection of the Amazon's stunning biodiversity, with so many different species that you might go acres without finding a repeat.

Yet this young forest did not spring up naturally. It has been carefully recreated by humans in an area that was, until just three years ago, a heavily contaminated moonscape.

This land was stripped of its dense vegetation by miners scouring the subsoil for tiny specks of gold, using mercury to separate the gold from the sediment. Many thought that a healthy forest would never thrive in impoverished, mercury-laden topsoil and that the piles of sandy tailings, the residue from the gold mining effort, and the pools of wastewater were irremediable...

"It feels good to see the forest grow back," says Pedro Ynfantes, 66, the miner whose legal mining concession of 1,110 acres includes this 10-acre patch of land where this young forest is located. "We don't want to deforest. When we had the opportunity to let the forest grow back, we took it. It's much better this way."

The opportunity he refers to came via U.S. nonprofit Pure Earth, which works with communities across the Global Southto remediate environmental problems left behind by mining, much of it illegal. Their biggest targets are mercury and lead contamination...

Security forces have launched anti-mining operations down the years, even blowing up the miners' equipment deep in the jungle. But most local politicians, including Madre de Dios' members of Peru's national congress, broadly support the miners, who are a powerful constituency in the relatively sparsely populated jungle region.

Restoring the forest

Pictured: France Cabanillas works for the nonprofit group Pure Earth, which is spearheading an effort to plant saplings in areas of the Peruvian Amazon that were devastated by illegal gold mining.

Now there's an effort to address the damage. Initially working with the region's legal miners, most of whom were here before the 2009 gold rush kicked off, the nonprofit group Pure Earth is using this patch of Ynfantes' land as a pilot project to show how the rainforest can be regenerated after the last traces of gold have been plucked from the soil.

It took a sustained outreach effort. Many miners are wary of or even downright hostile to foreign NGOs, which have repeatedly called for gold mining to be banned or severely curbed in the Peruvian Amazon — steps they say would cost them their livelihood.

"I am feeling optimistic," says France Cabanillas, Pure Earth's local coordinator, who has been appealing to the frustration of many miners at the heavy toll they have taken on the jungle and their desire to minimize their environmental footprint for the next generation.

"We still have a lot to do but this pilot is going well. Down the years, the miners have been getting a lot of stick but not much carrot when it comes to their environmental impacts," says Cabanillas. "We are offering them a carrot, allowing them to remediate their own impacts. Many of the miners do not want to be destroying the rainforest."

Before the miners plant the carefully-selected mix of tree species, they had to prepare the earth. Most of the topsoil had been washed away by the miners' heavy use of hoses.

That preparation involved adding biochar (burnt organic material) and even molasses, which contain fixed carbon and minerals, along with various other nutrients. The miners also had to dig tiny moats around the saplings to prevent all of this new planting from being washed away. Now, after three years, the forest is visibly coming back.

The rejuvenated rainforest also mitigates the impact of the mercury used by many of the illegal miners.

Research done by Pure Earth shows that the barren, sandy soil emits mercury. But in a rainforest, the ecosystem actually absorbs some of the metal, boosting public health."

-via NPR, April 2, 2024

#mining #illegal miners #gold #gold mining #peru #rainforest #ecosystem #mercury #environment #pollution #remediation #reforestation #good news #hope

[maniacwatchestheworld]

Making up things about Danny Phantom herb lore for fun #1: Blood Blossoms

The specifics as to why Blood Blossoms have such strong ghost-repelling qualities are still unknown. The Blood Blossom flower has a strong and pleasant smell and is edible by humans, having a light, flowery, and sweet flavor to them. Traditionally, it was often used as a famine food, and it was not uncommon for the flowers to be put on bread as they were- cut straight from the stem- and consumed with a bit of butter. As summer turns to autumn, unharvested blood blossoms turn into a fruit known more colloquially as 'Blood Berries.' Blood berries are also edible by humans, maintaining a similar level of sweetness as their flowers, but with a much richer, often overpowering taste. As such, the berries would often be reduced and put into jars of preservers or used as a marinade for meats. Only a little was needed to draw out the richer dimensions of food. While the scent of blood berries will still drive away ghosts, the scent of blood berries is not as strong as their flower counterpart unless actively being cooked. However, dried blood berries, and preserves using them tend to keep especially well in the cold winter months.

While one may assume that Blood Blosdoms were named for their vibrant, red, blood-like hue, it is thought by many historians that blood blossoms were especially favored by the Blood family who hailed from England, and it was them who named the flower. The Blood family's coat of arms features a design that incorporates flowers that look very similar to blood blossoms, perhaps proving to be evidence of this theory.

There are many theories as to why Blood Blossoms repel ghosts, among which is the idea that the scent of these flowers is exceedingly repulsive to ghosts, that something in their chemical makeup makes ectoplasm react in adverse ways when a ghost consumes one, or that it is a component of ghost-repelling spells- therefore ghosts feel a natural aversion to them. However one legend purposes that the reason for why ghosts are repelled by blood blossoms stems from their origin- There is a legend that says that once upon a time, a man would secretly worship at a shrine to a local forest spirit of life and the harvest. The man and his family had been cursed by evil spirits some years before, and where the Christain God had forsaken him and his family, the gentle forest spirit took pity on him and gave him what help she could. He did not have much to offer her. He would work all day in the field and barely yield enough to feed his family. His wife had been injured some years before and so could not work the fields with him anymore, nor could she even ready his meals for him when he returned home each day. And his daughters had fallen under some kind of mysterious illness that, while it fortunately had yet to take their lives, also refused to subside. Still, what little he could spare he would sacrifice to the forest spirit in hopes that she would bring them better fortune, a better crop, and protection from the evil spirits that had cursed him and his family. But one day he came to the nature spirit's alter, a gaping wound in his chest. The ghosts that had cursed his family before had returned for their souls. He did what he could- cast incantations around his humble home, but this injury had been the cost of trying to keep his family safe. The spirits were stronger than his incantations, and it would not be long until the spirits broke through them. He begged the goddess to protect and help his family. Without him, how would they eat? How would his family survive? The humble farmer died on the forest spirit's alter. She wept for the man who sacrificed everything he could to her to protect his family. And so she thought that the least she could do was to grant his wish. Plants erupted from the ground where his blood had spilled, bearing bright red flowers with black thorns. They traveled along the forest path to his home, where they surrounded the building, forcing the ghosts away. They would never return to hurt the family ever again. And with the spirits gone, the daughters were able to heal from the illness. It was soon discovered as they trimmed the wild black thorns back that the flowers were edible and delicious too. The stems and twigs burned especially hot, helping them to keep their hearth warm throughout all the autumn and winter. And the berries kept all the winter through. And so the man's wishes had all come true. For the rest of their days, his family would be protected from the spirits that had haunted them, and they would never need to go hungry ever again.

#danny phantom #danny phantom headcanon #danny phantom herb lore #herb lore #dpxdc #dp #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom x dc #dc x dp crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc au #blood blossoms

[ceruleancattail]

Mage Ruggie

With a little yandere snippet at the very end

Ruggie as a mage.

He’s not from any official clan of mages. His grimoire was found by him at some lonely tavern, on a table with not a single soul in sight. So he did what any normal person would do. Hold onto it… for “safe-keeping”. Hey, it was left unattended. Finders keepers, right?

Most of what he knows was picked up from talking to other magicians, wheedling out the secrets of spell casting from their drunken tongues. His grimoire is crinkled, certain pages dogeared and filled with Ruggie’s scrawl on what works, what doesn’t as well as handy tips or tricks he’s picked up along the way. His staff was carved out by his own very two hands, with a lot of splinters in his fingers in the process.

Ruggie can’t stand people who say he’s not a real mage. That all his spells are just parlour tricks, all flash and bang. That he’ll never measure up to the real mages who work day and night to study the great spells of the ancients.

He doesn’t really say much to them, though. Ruggie just laughs it all off, before walking away, hands in his pockets. Those people might just find themselves the victims of some very unsettling pranks later, but that’s just karma working its way around.

Nothing to do with Ruggie, nope!

Ruggie may not be a “real mage” in their eyes, but the spells he’s learnt painstakingly under flickering candlelight are as real as anything he’s ever known. He works as hard, if not even more harder then any mage up there in the capital. Ruggie’s capability and flexibility in multiple different types of spells prove it all.

What’s the use of a great big ol’ ancient spell that requires ten chants to be finished in succession if a simple word could do the job? You wouldn’t have time to piece all those words together in a raid, before you’re felled by a sword through your chest.

Mage Ruggie who’s a little soft on you, despite his abrupt denials of it. Who checks on you on every so often, gaze flickering towards your face when your party is out on an adventure. If you show any signs of fatigue, he’s silently slipping by your side, threading his arm through yours. Huh, tired already? You can lean on him for a while… it’s gonna’ cost you, though!

Mage Ruggie who helps out with the cooking. He’s chattering away as he’s slicing up ingredients, playfully elbowing you aside whenever your arms align with his. Hey, hey, speed things up, slowpoke! He’s already done! Ruggie’s skilled at scavenging for edible things in the wild.

A skill picked up because of necessity, really. The party eats whatever he finds, but if you have any special requests… just bring it up to him. Ruggie can’t promise you the exact same thing but… he’ll do his best to get you something close.

Mage Ruggie who limps over to you after the battle’s over. He’ll hide his injuries the best he can, his laughter masking the grimace that he pulls whenever he sets a little too much weight on one leg. He’ll only ever let down his guard when both of you are alone, really.

At first, he used to bandage his wounds alone. Making makeshift bandages out of tattered cloth, smearing slaves onto them. Now, however, he leans onto you and whines about how much it’s hurting, how he’s suffering so, so badly until you patch him up. As with everything, he tries to hide the grunts of pain and squeaks with bluster and jokes, forcing through a smile as you dab at his wounds gently. He jokes his way through, but the small, soft thank you he whispers to you in the end?

That’s genuine. As genuine as it gets.

Ruggie does appreciate you, really. Even if he doesn’t say it. He’s grown a little too comfortable adventuring with you. A little too attached, to you.

He likes having someone to bluster with, something who’ll laugh at his horrible jokes. Someone who’ll have his back no matter when, no matter what. He likes being around you.

He loves you.

And that’s the realest thing he’s ever known.

And now because it isn’t a cerulean fic without something dark-

Tw: yandere, corpses, going against the law of nature for your love….

Mage Ruggie who had to cradle your dying body in his own two hands. Who had to hold you, during those last, final moments. Who had to feel the last embers of warmth disappear from your chest, to see the light in your eyes fade…

Mage Ruggie who’s never been a true, certified mage in the name of the law. He’s already been deemed as a “fake”. As something lesser to a bona fide, capital groomed mage. So what’s harm of breaking a law or two?

“One shalt nev'r reanimate a c'rpse, f'r betrayal of the laws of nature shall bringeth a fate w'rse than death”

Whoever came up with that law never once loved someone, did they?

So Ruggie sets your weary bones in a circle, runes craved into soil, gorged out the ground by his own two hands. He shuts your eyes gently, presses a soft, tender kiss into your lips before retreating back. Raising his staff, speaking the words of the forbidden.

Of the wrong.

But if something as simple as love can shatter this world, perhaps it deserves to be shattered. Whatever happens to the world, Ruggie can’t just bring himself to care. Once he sees your eyes open, he’s immediately dropping into his knees, crawling to your side. Clutching at your hands with trembling fingers, bringing it towards his cheek. Sobbing as he watches your chest rise and fall, as your forehead wrinkle in confusion.

Ruggie would set this world alight,

if only to feel the warmth of your gentle touch on his skin again.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #Ruggie bucchi #Ruggie #Ruggie x reader #Ruggie bucchi x reader #lucky potion 🔷 #protection charm ♦️

[teaboot]

Your post about art vs content got me thinking about the differences between the two. To me there is no difference besides the mindsets. One is of creator and the enjoyer, the other is content and consumer it removes the personhood, the joy/emotion, from the equation. Like a writer or video creator may not see their work as art so content creator maybe a way to refer to themselves comfortably but it sounds so machine, emotionless and lifeless, like a cookie cutter recipe mass producing something verses people lovingly crafting something...then again Disney uses a cookie cutter recipe for the most part and it brings out bangers cause people lovingly make it their own so maybe I'm thinking too hard on this

Does my long-winded rant make sense?

see, I get what you mean, but I still feel like the willingness to entertain calling art of any kind "content" reduces it to the facet of consumption where in reality, the experience of consuming art is not the sole defining trait of it.

Reducing arts like music, writing, painting, dance, voice acting, theater, etc. to the role of "content"- a thing created to be consumed, measured and valued by how pleasant or easy it is to digest- I feel that it was our biggest red flag to herald the incoming tide of AI "art".

Because if art is "content", if arts are nothing but consumable matter, then obviously the key to success is to produce as much soft, tasty, edible paste as we possibly can at the lowest possible expense.

It's the same issue I have with "meal replacements", diet culture, nutrient slurries, twenty-step skincare routines, 24/7 body padding and shapewear and laxative teas and "grind culture". It's not a cause, but a symptom, of the disease that is late-stage capitalism.

Things must be produced at low cost and remain in high demand forever. Things must be perfect and palatable and the new hit trend forever. People must pay hand over fist to consume without asking anything in return, and if they start dropping like flies at the unending unrewarded thankless demand of it all, then that must be treated as a weakness. We should all take pride in how much we can spend, pay, give, produce, and think as little as possible about what we ask for ourselves.

So, who cares if, of two identical paintings, one was made by a person and one was made by a computer program? It's the same work, so what does it matter? What does it matter?

I am an artist. I make art. I ask a question, make a statement, declare something horrific or challenging or upsetting or wrong or grotesque, and when you respond, we are together experiencing a conversation. We are existing, two people living one life and reaching out and touching across time and space. No matter the work, you're at the barest minimum saying, "I'm alive, and you're alive, and at one time or another we shared this same world, and at the end of the day we aren't too terribly different. My heart is worth sharing, and your heart is worth the struggle of understanding."

An AI-generated piece, a computer-generated voice, a CGI puppet of someone long since dead and gone, they cannot speak. They have no voice. Ay best, they are the most chewable, consumable, landlord-beige common denominator possible that you can sit and listen to like the lone survivor of a shipwreck listening to the same three songs on a broken record, and at worst, they're the uncaring vomit of an empty, unloving, value-addled hack wearing the skin of someone I know over their own.

When you abandon art to say that you make content, that should not be a point of pride. That's an embarrassment. That's not sitting down for an intelligent discussion with an equal, that's kneeling at the feet of the crowd and saying, "what do you want to see me do? I can be anyone you've ever loved. I can be them, I can be anyone, as long as you love me."

I can make content. I can be consumed. What do you want to consume? I'll make myself consumable. I'll make myself just like anything you like. And I'll make so much of it that you'll never have to go anywhere else, because it'll all be right here, and under all the cut-and-paste schlock you've seen before I will sit alone in the dark and the silence and I will know that I am safe, because I am valued, because I am desired, and I need to be desired or else I am worthless like a factory that no longer churns out steel or a hen that no longer lays eggs or a cow that is too old to make milk.

Content, the most literal meaning, is something which is contained inside a container. What it is doesn't really matter, and the best it can hope to be is something worthy of being scooped out and used.

Art is an experience that transcends value. Art is something you can eat without paying for. You can make it out of anything and anyone can do it. It can be crude and vulgar and bad, and that's a strength because it means something. It always, always means something, and it doesn't matter if you like it or not. It's not content because it doesn't fill anything. It's a living, breathing thing, and whether you want to birth it or eat it, then you're going to have to be willing to put the fucking work in

#I want to apologize but I'm not going to #This is important to me #I do not want to create content #I do not want to be universally loved #I do not want my existence to revolve around being used #I'm not a machine I'm a person and I'll do what makes me happy #Even if that isn't good or useful #I don't want to be pretty I want to be alive #Don't look at me #I'm breathing #I'm screaming #I'm ugly and sharp and painful to hold #And that is not a bad thing #To come back to

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

"Time & the Trickster" A Loki/Doctor Who crossover

Chapter 6: Two If By Sea

Loki makes a mistake that costs you dearly. You find the clock ticking as your one chance to get out of Boston is put in jeopardy by a bad decision, and you're the only hope Loki has left to save the day.

CHAPTER WARNING: Reader has another panic attack

Previous Chapter · Next Chapter MASTERLIST

You awoke to a delicious smell wafting from the bedside table. Blinking groggily back into the Land of the Conscious, your eyes took a minute to focus themselves. 

“I found breakfast,” said a soft, gentle voice. Loki’s. “I thought I’d do the work and allow you to sleep. You looked rather peaceful, and I know peace has been scarce the past few days. I didn’t want to jeopardize any fleeting chance you had for some.” 

The mammoth structure now fully visible before you had your wordless mouth hanging open. It was nothing short of a tower of varied breakfast (and…non-breakfast?) foods all in one styrofoam tray. The piece of edible art looked entirely too fancy to be housed in such plebeian packaging. 

“Is…that…caviar?” you mumbled. 

“The owner of the diner said it was a…Mermaid Benedict? For such an un-magicked world, I was surprised to learn that you have mermaids…and that you consume their eggs!”

“Whu…what diner?”

“The...uh…Black Sail, I think?”

You shot up upon hearing the name of the most notorious breakfast spot in town. The Black Sail, famous for how A-listers frequently patronized the place for brunch when they were passing through town. The Black Sail, famous for home fries that cost more than a monthly mortgage payment. 

“Awww geez, how much was it?”

Loki shrugged as he came to sit beside you on the bed, throwing a paper napkin over your lap, clearly unable to sense the less-than-pleased tone of your voice. 

“Ninety credits? I simply gave them what was left in the wallet.”

“WHAT?!” You jumped up, shocked. “Loki, tell me this was all you got!”

He shrugged. “I thought Joey would return with more money, so I…got one for each of you.” 

You nearly passed out. “Oh…oh…Loki…that was really all that was in the wallet, wasn’t it?”

He nodded silently, his face unyielding. “I didn’t realize. I…oh…”

Your anxiety disorder was beginning to give birth to itself again, and the realization that Loki had mistakenly spent your entire cash stash on two overstuffed seafood brunch towers was triggering you again. 

Before the heat in your face could spread throughout your chest, you felt a cold hand on yours, gently pulling you back to the bed. 

“Joey isn’t here, but I am…”

Somehow, the mantra worked, and your tremors were already beginning to ebb. You began rhythmically sucking in breaths and letting them out, not realizing that Loki was watching you with concern and mirroring your breaths to a lesser degree. 

“Norns, Y/N, I shouldn’t have, and I’m truly--”

You threw up a quiet hand, not needing his frantic apologies to add to the tension in the room. Instead, after signaling for him to be silent, you gripped his hand tightly and continued grounding yourself, trying to bring yourself around without your brother’s help. 

After several minutes of silence, your senses slowly crawled back, although your head was roaring. Loki suggested that you have water, but you disagreed.

“Let’s just eat these,” you countered as you indicated the pair of expensive meals beside you, “May as well,” you sighed sadly. 

You hated how you were stranded in Boston without a penny, your brother missing, and your teenage obsession putting his arm around you with concern in his eyes at your near-breakdown. How FUCKING embarrassing! Could things get worse?

No, because now you not only had no money for a boat, but now you had no money for a train back to New York, nor any for a few extra nights in the hotel. Things COULDN’T get any worse! 

As you and Loki ate in awkward silence, Joey finally returned, beaming. 

“Hey Sis, guess what?” he said, proud of something. You gave him an exaggerated questioning look to make up for the fact that you couldn’t reply with your mouth full of egg. “I got us a boat! No charge!”

You nearly spat the egg out, but Loki spoke for you: “No charge?”

Joey nodded. “Turns out, the guys Paulie knows owe him a solid, and he’s willing to cash it in for us!”

Finally managing to swallow, the large chunk of masticated food proving difficult to get past the back of your throat at first. “What’s the catch?” you asked. “There’s got to be one.” 

“We have to leave tonight, and we have to meet them at O’Paddy’s this afternoon, discreetly.” 

“I see,” you said with mild disappointment. So, you were going to have to do this illegally after all. But what choice did you have now with no money? You only had three days with the room, and admittedly, the idea of getting the hell out of Boston after only being here a day was appealing. 

Loki looked hopeful at the development, which was enough for you. You still felt a pang of guilt inside for making him worry, and for making him feel guilty about his screw-up. 

“Fine, but if they turn out to be Han Solo and Chewbacca, I’m leaving and taking a raft to London.”

For being a weekday evening, O’Paddy’s was quite crowded. A piano instrumental of ‘Come Out, Ye Black and Tans’ twinkled proudly from a small man playing in the corner, two older men sitting at a table nearby toasting the player with their beers. Several businessmen in half-discarded suits were complaining about their days at the close-end bar. A few college students circled around a basket of fried appetizers. A few older-looking guys were at the far end of the bar, eyes glued to the sports highlights playing on the mounted TV in the corner. Despite the no-smoking sign on the door, there was a vague odor of stale tobacco about the room. It was still only about 5pm, but the pub was so compact and tucked away from any light, it felt as if you would step outside to find it was midnight. 

It was the most Bostonian place you could imagine finding yourself in. 

“So, where are they?” you asked, leaning over and muttering in Joey’s ear, but he was already scanning the room. 

“They’re both in the booth over past the piano man,” Joey said, taking your hand. “C’mon, Sis!” 

You decided to take Loki’s hand with your free one. Not only to keep him close to you, but to help keep you strong in this claustrophobic place. With Joey guiding the three of you down the center of the pub, you hoped no one around would connect Loki’s face to anything familiar. 

As promised, past the piano player’s station was a corner booth tucked behind a wooden column. It looked a bit naturally suspicious to you, like on any other day this would be a mafia boss’ hangout spot. The energy of the spot was a bit off to you, but you still weren’t quite used to the environment. 

You just didn’t do well in small, crowded places. You actually hated bars. If you were to go out with your friends, you would have preferred getting drinks at a sit-down restaurant, where at least there would be room between tables to breathe a little. 

Sitting in the booth were a man and woman with the same fiery red hair. They looked at Joey with narrow, suspicious eyes. 

“You Joey?” asked the woman. 

Joey nodded. “Yeah, I’m Paulie Mac’s friend. This is my sister Y/N, and this is Lo…um…Lo…man.” 

You rolled your eyes. You couldn’t have come up with a fake name people will believe?

You extended your hand to shake each of theirs, and the man invited you to sit. “We got Irish nachos, they’ll be out any minute if you want.”

“No thanks,” you said, still somewhat full from the monster brunch you’d had earlier courtesy of Loki. 

“You’d probably better eat up, especially if we’re buying,” warned the woman, lowering her voice and leaning in over the table. “We don’t like weighing down the boat with a ton of unnecessary shit. It’ll be whatever you can throw in a microwave for the next few weeks.”

“Are you saying food is unnecessary?” you raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

“Yes, and so is this favor,” replied the man, which shut you up.

Joey threw up a hand. “Hey, be cool, it’s been an insane week for all of us. We’re all a bit defensive right now.”

After a waitress brought out a heaping plate of waffle fries loaded down with bacon, cheese, scallions, and sour cream, you got down to business, the noises from the piano player covering your scheming. 

Loki looked at you. “You should do as they say and at least try to have something.” He punctuated the gentle request by grabbing a large fry between two long, lean fingers, and slowly inserting it between his lips. You giggled when you saw that he’d left some cream on the corner of his lip. Being bold, you took a single finger and wiped it away softly. 

It’s not fair, he shouldn’t be this adorable, you moaned in your mind. The tender moment led to a look that you and Loki shared…one that sent your brain into a hot fuzz. 

You did as Loki suggested and followed suit, taking a plate and setting a small portion of the appetizer in front of yourself to satisfy him. Joey raised a curious brow before shrugging it off and moving on. 

“I’m Shane, and this is Carrie,” said the ginger man, indicating the snarky woman next to him. “Yes, we’re a couple, and no, we aren’t related. The hair’s just incidental.” 

Carrie supplemented him by adding, “Just so you know, we’re here because we smuggle things. The less you know beyond that, the better, but it’s how we know how to get past the Coast Guard.”

“And how exactly do we do that?” you asked. 

“Very delicately,” said Shane. “And tonight might be the worst night of the year to do this, but it may be our only shot--”

“--unless you want to hang out for another three weeks or so,” added Carrie, taking a waffle fry and nibbling on the corner. “But from what we’ve heard, time’s a factor here.” 

Loki took another piece for himself. “Why is it so difficult to move out tonight?” 

Carrie rolled her eyes. “The Coast Guard starts their annual drills offshore in the morning. It goes on for a while, but it makes getting into international water almost impossible without paperwork or clearance.”

Shane leaned back and crossed his arms. He had very large biceps that strained against his muscle shirt. “We have papers, but our boat isn’t exactly full of hiding places.” 

“And someone like Loman here might have trouble blending in anywhere we dock,” Carrie added. 

“Wait,” asked Loki, “You’re smugglers and yet your boat doesn’t have any hiding places?”

“Loman, it might be wise not to ask any unnecessary questions,” Shane warned. 

This did not satisfy the Asgardian. “Don’t talk to me like that--”

Carrie interrupted. “--are best hope is to leave after dark. Our boat is tied up at Dock 10. It’s about as far out of the way as you can get. The Coast Guard will begin drills at sunrise, but by then we should at least be beyond Halifax.” 

“Get to Dock 10 by no later than 10:30pm,” Shane instructed. “Don’t bring any big bags.”

“And we won’t wait for you if you’re late, either. We need to pick up a few things while we’re over in Europe, so we’re not up for negotiating our departure time.” 

“Understood,” said Joey. “We just need time to check out of our hotel room and pack.”

“Got that, Loman?” asked Carrie, eyeing Loki up and down for a moment too long, a moment that both you and Shane noticed with the same ire. “You don't seem particularly quick on the uptake.” 

The comment seemed to offend Loki, who looked at you and stood up without another word. “I’ll bring us a round of drinks,” he offered, his tone restrained. 

“How are you going to pay for that?” you asked, only to be ignored. 

Loki moved past the piano, not watching exactly where he was going. The musician happened to rise at the same time Loki stepped into his path, and as the God was much taller and heavier than the middle-aged mortal, it was the piano player who was knocked back, causing his arm to knock his tip jar off of the piano, sending it shattering on the wood floor. 

“WHAT THE HELL?” the man shouted, scrambling to his feet. 

Loki turned back and shrugged. “I didn’t see you there--”

“--well, you see me now, punk?” the irate, slightly-intoxicated man challenged, throwing a wild, unaimed fist in Loki’s general direction. It missed wide, but Loki had to lean back in order to avoid it, and that was enough for him to lower his eyebrows in a way that you were familiar with. 

He made that face while confronting Thor on Asgard. He made it again while fighting Malekith, Hela, and Thanos…

You cringed and grabbed Joey’s arm. “Oh shit, he’s going to--”

Loki flicked his wrist upward instinctually, which, of course, produced nothing (although the time stone in his pocket began to twinkle). When he tried it twice more to no avail, Loki responded with physical defense, shoving the man back with a firm palm on his shoulder. 

“HEY! HANDS OFF ME, ASSHOLE!” hollered the man, drawing the attention of several more patrons, as well as the bartender. The second punch got closer to Loki’s face. 

Joey stood up and ran over. You were hoping he intended to pull Loki away from the upset man. Instead, he grabbed an empty beer bottle on his way over and merrily chucked it at the piano player’s head. “Fuck you!” he shouted.

Jesus Christ, Joey! Not now!

Turning back, you saw Shane and Carrie getting up, putting a ten dollar bill on the table, and moving aside as Joey and Loki began to tag-team the drunk piano man. Other patrons were leaping on top of all three of them while the bartender made for the phone on the wall behind him. 

Carrie looked particularly angry at the rowdy turn of events. “You’re going to fucking get us arrested, you clowns!”

“10:30pm, and not a second later,” Shane confirmed before leading Carrie away discreetly. 

“I hate you.” 

Here you were for the second time this week, staring at Joey and Loki from behind a set of metal bars. At least Loki had pants on this time. 

It was 8:45pm, less than two hours before your rendezvous, and two-thirds of your party were stuck in a drunk tank so far away from the bay that if you left and ran without stopping or grabbing your belongings at the hotel, you would hardly make it. 

And that still wasn’t the most dire part of your situation: you couldn’t make bail. 

“...sorry, Sis,” mumbled Joey, his head down. 

“Sorry? SORRY?!” you screamed, pacing back and forth in front of the bars. “You do realize that this is over now, right? All of this! All of this work and traveling is for nothing!

“How do you mean ‘over’?” Loki asked with concern. 

You looked at him with utter disbelief. “I HAVE NO BAIL MONEY! FOR EITHER OF YOU!” Your stress was different this time, manifesting in tears and choppy sobs. “I can’t save you, and time is almost up! Unless we somehow break you out in the next few minutes--”

Loki ran over and grabbed your arm as you walked past. “Listen to me, Y/N,” he cut you off with a low voice, “that is exactly what you need to do!”

You looked at him through your frantic tears, shaking your head nervously. “No…I can’t!” 

“Y/N!” Loki’s voice was soothing and melodic as he pulled you up to the bars before reaching through to cup your face in his palm. “I trust you more than anyone in the Realms right now. I know you can do this. I believe in you.”

You sucked in a desperate breath. “You’re just saying that to get me to be brave enough to do it.”

His smile was sweet, with a glint of mischief in his eye. “And is it working?”

“Dammit, Loki, yes!” you whispered, pressing your face against the bars and meeting Loki’s lips with yours. You only took a second to deliver the kiss, but you would have moved heaven and earth to make it an eternal moment. 

You remained close to the bars as you withdrew your lips. “I…I think they keep the keys behind the guard’s desk. Beyond the metal door.” 

“Cause a distraction so that you can get to that desk, Y/N, and do whatever it takes. Think about what I would do, and do it fast,” Loki instructed. 

You nodded. Loki took a finger and tapped it three times against  the tarot pendant you still wore about your neck.  “Remember, you are my hope. You are my star.” 

How could you possibly accomplish this magnificently illegal task when all you wanted to do was melt through the bars and fall into his arms? Nevertheless, you managed to pull yourself away and spin around on your heels. 

“Go get ‘em, Sis, and hurry!” Joey encouraged you from behind. You fought the urge to flip him off as you sprinted away. After all, he chose to escalate the fight in the bar and turned a scrap into a 911-worthy breakup. 

You were fast thinking when you had to be, but when it came to improvising jailbreaks, you came up short. Nervously, you wondered what kind of distraction you could possibly cause while also going for the keys. You kept running down the long line of holding cells until you turned a corner, running further down until you came by the only other cell with occupants. 

Two skinny middle-aged tweakers were leaning against the wall. They barely twitched when you came up to the door. 

“What you want?” asked the taller of the two, his Bostonian accent so thick you could barely understand it.

“I need you two to freak out so much that the guards all come over here,” you asked, immediately realizing how stupid it sounded. 

“Uh, why should we do that?” asked the other. 

Your head spun. Loki had advised you to do something he would do…

What WOULD Loki do? Ugh, sexy, sexy Loki…

You suddenly thought of Danielle from the bookstore, and how easily Loki had managed to charm her out of nearly a thousand dollars. You bit your lip and couldn;t believe what you were about to do, but only one course of action came to mind, and you got the feeling it was absolutely something that Loki would do. 

“Because I’ll let you look at these!” 

You flipped up your shirt, revealing your simple white bra that you’d had so long, it was a cup size too small. As a result, it really deepened your cleavage, making them look bigger than perhaps they were. 

“Ooooh shit, Bill!” hooted the taller druggie. “She must really need our help!”

The other one chuckled and whistled, slowly getting up from the wall and exaggerating a bow. “My lady, we’re at your service! What can we do for ya?”

“Freak the fuck out, and do it fast!” you implored, rolling your shirt back down. The two men looked at each other and grinned at each other knowingly, showing off their decaying teeth. 

“My lady, you got it.” 

You immediately took off down the hall and snuck around the far corner. From there, you could look one way and see the guard desk, and turn your head the other to have a glimpse of the cell containing your two new allies. You began to hear snarls, screams, and garbled insults from the latter direction. The tweakers were already working. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” the guard on duty was getting up from his deck and peeking his head in your direction. 

You pointed frantically down the hall. “Those guys tried to grab me and now they’re--!”

The guard was already running off down the hallway past you. The scuffle in the cell beyond was turning physical. You wasted no time leaping behind the desk and shuffling through the four drawers. One was files, one was completely empty. 

The third one had several key rings stashed inside, all labeled sloppily with masking tape scribbled over in thick sharpie. You ran your fingers over every one, hoping to god one would be the correct key. 

“FUCK IT!” you grunted under your breath, scooping up every single one and taking off, deciding that you’d run out of time. 

The holding cells in this precinct were lined up in a circular hallway, so you were able to keep running to the left in order to make it back around to Loki and Joey, who were both gripping the bars and looking anxiously for you since the addicts began acting out their scuffle from further down the way.

“Quick, each of you take some, we need to do this fast,” you bade, handing several key rings to each of the men. 

You’d taken five rings in total. You tried yours first, and it didn’t even fit in the keyhole. Loki’s key didn't either. Luckily, Joey was able to cram the keyring he held inside before you needed to try the second key you held.

Everyone dropped their keys at once, and the bustling down the hall came to a stop. 

“Hey, what the--?”

“Shit!” Joey hissed. 

“Run!” you yelled, grabbing Loki’s wrist and practically dragging him behind you as you doubled back the other way in an effort to avoid the cops. 

You found an emergency exit door that led out behind the precinct, and while it instantly set off all of the fire bells in the building, you were able to slip down the street while the rest of the police were scrambling to look for you, as well as whoever pulled the alarm! 

While none of you knew particularly where you were going, you traced your way through downtown, heading for the harbor. It was difficult keeping a quick pace, as the nightlife was beginning to emerge from the shadows, crowding the sidewalks. It didn’t help that Boston roads were mapped out like a toddler’s drawing of a cloud. There was no grid, no numbered streets to gauge where in the area you were. 

You had no way to tell the time as you found the harbor and began counting the piers and dock numbers. “Now remember, it’s a 50-footer, so it’ll be small…” Joey huffed, out of breath as you jogged along in a sad attempt to pick up the pace.

After about 20 minutes stumbling northward along the shoreline, you finally found Dock 10, and Carrie was waving a flashlight, signaling you as you finally approached. 

“Dipshit!” she scowled. “You made us wait until the last minute!”

“What time is it?” Joey nearly spat as he doubled over in exhaustion. You’d never let go of Loki’s wrist, so as soon as you stepped onto the boat, you dropped it. 

“Literally 10:28,” Carrie let you know. “No, let’s get out of here, kids.” 

You could hear the vague sound of sirens growing closer as the yacht pulled out of the pier and began moving out to open sea. Whether or not they were looking for the three of you, you couldn;t possibly know. Still, the further you pulled away from land, the better, as far as you were concerned. 

“I’d go below and get right to bed if I were you, and be sure to turn the lights out right away,” Carrie said simply. “We could still hit the Coast Guard, and if we do, they might not ask to board if it looks like there’s just us.”

“I could sure use it. It;s been a long one, what with bar fights and jailbreak and--”

Joey cut off as he looked at the infuriated look on your face. “--and good night, Sis! Thanks for busting us out!” 

As he went down below deck, you were finally able to take a moment to calm yourself. Loki shuffled beside you. 

“You were fantastic,” he said to you quietly. “We’re on our way now, thanks to you.”

“I only did what you suggested,” you said modestly. 

“Thank you,” he answered, pulling you firmly into his arms and resting his head on top of yours.

While Loki looked absentmindedly at the shrinking lights of Boston Harbor,  your head was turned in the opposite direction, looking out ahead of you into the pitch-black ocean. 

Suddenly, you didn’t feel so well. 

Oof, this was a big chapter! Thanks for your continued support and reblogs! TAGLIST: @crashingwavesofeuphoria @kkdvkyya @red-shirt-mania @misschris1412 @salvinaa @marygoddessofmischief @spiderstyles04 @fireflymoonwitch @mochie85 @loz-3 @lcolumbia1988 @lokilurker @eleniblue @gruftiela @starkzdaughter @mrsbarnes-avenger @thedistractedagglomeration @km-ffluv @lokisgoodgirl @holdmytesseract @itsthattimedarling @wolfsmom1 @scully2u @shinisenko @mischief2sarawr @ririsutty73 @lulubelle814 @meg81589 @gloriuspurposeposts @theonetruepotato87 @linllewellyn @wistfulclueless @etherealkistar @tinydancer40 @hardtravelerwizard-blog @fangirllanie @keegansakura @himek0fallenangel-blog @abeeigrl @theoraekenslover @halfbakedideas

#loki #fanfiction #mcu #mcu loki #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #mcu fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki/reader #loki smut #adventure #time travel #crossover fic #mcu crossover #doctor who #doctor who crossover #mcu/doctor who crossover #tenth doctor #time stone #tva #marvel loki #loki series 2 #loki series spoilers #loki season 2 #loki spoilers #mobius #mobius m mobius #loki s2 #anti-sylvie #anti-sylki

[be-good-to-bugs]

why must i have teeth that hurt so much

#the bin #i hope i can see a dentist in june but it could be july or even later. they hirt SO bad #ibuprofen doesnt do anything to makw them hurt less. i wish edibles cost less bc they help a lot #i might order some but idk how long they take to ship :/ i really need to save my money but oh my god my mouth hurts so bad #hhhh. bleh. i really gotta get all my stuff packed up soon. i guess ill try to start on that tomorrow. #i have no idea how much stuff ill be able to bring. my sister wont come over to figure that stuff out #she says she has no time yet she manages to have plenty of time to come over just to check the mailbox. something i can do for her. #hhhh. im so stressed abt so much stuff. the fact my mouth hirts so bad all the time doensg help #well soon enough ill be moved and i can chill for at least a little while. hhh. i need to get all my stuff packed and labeled asap so im #ready to go very soon. its only 3 more weeks ill be working and only a little more till im moving. hhhh. 1 month and ill be moved. #hhhh. i can deal. i will deal. its really hard with this awful tooth. my wisdom teeth coming in is making everything hurt so bad hhhhhhhhh

[lingerina]

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 // day six

PROMPT ➛ aphrodisiac PAIRING ➛ g!p fallen angel!ningning x fem!reader WORD COUNT ➛ 1.1k words WARNINGS ➛ overstimulation, squirting, mating press, creampie SYNOPSIS ➛ after losing her wings, she falls prey to one of the seven sins: lust.

One mistake cost Yizhou her space in heaven.

It cost her connection to her loved ones and her life as she once knew. To look up at them and their ivory angel wings as they shouted for her brought her pain, and it would only hurt more when she looked over the scars on her back in the mirror where her own wings used to be. She would attempt to flutter them out of habit, only to find the barest flex of her upper back and stillness.

Life on Earth is nothing like her old home. The culture is diverse, as she has observed from dwelling amongst the continents. As beautiful as some parts are, Earth is still a dirty and dangerous place to trek. She’s barely assimilating into her mortal life, but her roommate is making it a little more peaceful to stay alive.

You are her peace, her mentor, her pillar. You are more than just her roommate.

But Yizhou still possesses some attributes of an immortal. Notably her strength and stamina when it comes to fulfilling her needs. Ever since losing her wings, she has rapidly succumbed to one of the seven sins–lust. 

She finds it in multiple women, using them thoroughly like ragdolls. Despite that, she still remains ravenous. Running through them is not enough. She needs more. Only now does she realize that the solution to her burning lust may just be the very pillar of support and tranquility that’s been living with her.

From the moment you sit next to her on the couch, Yizhou has her eyes on you like a hawk.

You enjoy tea, and she enjoys brewing it for you. Everyday is a new flavor. A new element. She had just brewed you one of your favorites: lychee jasmine with edible pearlescent glitter. 

You are familiar with the taste: the subtle sweetness, the floral notes, and the aroma of fruit as it hits your tongue. What you’re unfamiliar with is the fiery heat that swiftly overcomes you.

Unlike the warmth that hugs you like a weighted blanket, you’re struck with unbearable heat that runs through your veins and rushes down to your core. Tea has never given you this much discomfort. You have to set it back down on the coffee table and slouch back with a deep breath, unaware of the smug grin that’s marring your roommate’s pretty face.

The effects of the aphrodisiac are setting in much quicker than Yizhou had anticipated, and it’s beautiful to witness.

The change of expression on your face, your frequent fidgeting and shifting, your legs crossing and uncrossing. Your nipples are prominent through your thin, white tee, and she’s blessed to live with someone who is comfortable wandering around the residence with no pants. She’s even luckier that you’re wearing gray panties because she catches a glimpse of how wet you are in the midst of you crossing your legs again.

You sit like that for a minute as whatever trashy reality show playing on the TV has your attention.

And it’s a minute too long for Yizhou, who can’t hide her boner.

A pair of hands forcing your thighs open startles you out of your trance. Yizhou sinks to the floor, settles between your legs, and peers up at you with a smile after peeking at your crotch. “Something bothering you, darling?”

You swallow, not knowing what to do when her fingers press down on your clothed folds. The subtle pressure highlights just how soaked your panties are, and it’s embarrassing. You have never been so desperate for release. It’s gnawing at you, urging you to run to your room and seek relief with your toys.

But your roommate beats you to it.

She peels your soaked panties to the side, and you’re horrified to discover the thick threads of arousal separating the fabric from your skin. How could you have gotten so wet—so worked up—over nothing?

You shudder, your mouth falling open to a low moan as she dips two fingers in and shoves them knuckle deep inside you. Slow and steady pumps are blowing your mind, curling your fingers into a tight grip on the pleather cushion beneath you for security. You have never pictured being so intimate and filthy with Yizhou, but she is all that you have.

You need her.

You need her.

And she has always needed you.

As soon as her name comes out of your mouth, it flips a switch in her.

And she goes into overdrive.

You can’t get enough.

Yizhou has brought you to the moon and back, to heaven and hell and back, an obscene amount of times that you can’t count. The cushions beneath you are slick from the ample orgasms that she’s given you, yet she still has the stamina to fuck you again.

You’re flat on your back, completely used to her advantage and littered with marks and bruises courtesy of her mouth and grip. Your legs are pushed up against your chest, Yizhou’s hands on the back of your thighs pinning them up and practically folding you in half as her cock abuses your sensitive cunt for the nth time.

There is no end to your desire. Every release has you yearning for more, and the pain that should come with constant fucking has never aroused. You have never experienced this sensation before. One that burns so brightly in the pit of your stomach. You only know that no one can put the flames out except for her, and her cock is all that you need.

“So pretty,” she grunts between gritted teeth as she watches your eyes slowly roll back once more. “So fucked out. Because of me.”

Your slick walls close in around her but her powerful hips push through, coaxing broken cries and hitched breaths out of you. The resistance hints at another impending orgasm. 

To be able to bring you to this many new heights inflates her pride, fueling her strength to dismantle you all over again, and the room echoes with your cries as you fall victim to another climax. It spills like a broken dam, coating her cock in your arousal. Watching your pussy going through the rounds of assault from her veiny girth, but still accommodate her so well, triggers her own ecstasy.

She bottoms out, burying herself deep inside you. Her whiny moans mesh with throaty grunts as she draws back, then shoves back in, flooding your walls further with her release. She has fucked your brains out as she had promised because you can do no more than to lay there and be a vessel for her cum. 

The effects of the aphrodisiac have finally worn off because you swiftly doze off after she pulls out of you.

Finally, you’ve reached your ending point.

And finally, she can lay her unending lust to rest.

You needed her.

And she has always needed you.

#girl group smut #aespa smut #ningning smut #girl group imagines #aespa imagines #kinktober #kinktober 2023

[writeforfandoms]

Island 2

Find the series masterlist

More conversations are had, plans are made, and you all make a run for another drop. Of course, things don't always go smoothly.

Warnings: Swearing, intense emotions, reader has Issues, canon typical violence, shooting at dinosaurs, blood, death (dinosaurs only), playing fast and loose with Ark mechanics.

Word count: 2.5k

Eventual Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x f!reader

All four of them helped you carry in the meat and berries, and you showed them where you kept everything. It took longer to pluck the dodos, leaving the feathers in a large basket. Gaz took over that for you, and you stood in the middle of the house for a minute, hands on your hips. 

“Taming really isn’t a day two topic,” you said, shaking your head a little. “But. Oh well.” You breathed in deep, fingers tapping against your hip. “Obviously you lot have seen Bessie and Watermelon. Taming creatures is generally not hard, but it is a process. The herbivores are the easiest, you just find their favorite berries and feed ‘em until they like you.” You paused there and then sighed. “You kind of have to take all of this with a grain of salt, because none of this makes sense. I just knew when Bessie was tame, same way I just know that hyaenadon will be ready to come in tomorrow. I didn’t have to train Bessie, she just knows.” You shrugged. 

“So, what, you just feed things until they follow you home?” Gaz didn’t look up from the dodo he was plucking. 

“I mean, with herbivores, yeah. And a few carnivores, like the hyaenadons. But most carnivores are much more dangerous.” You shook your head. “I’m honestly amazed Tom was able to tame Ripper. Raptors are dangerous and they’re pack hunters.”

“So how did he tame it?” Price crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Nuh uh.” You pointed a threatening finger at him. “Nope. Week two. Survive that long and I’ll teach you.” 

His eyes gleamed and he tipped his head to look down at you. “Fine.” 

“Are we goin’ for the green drop?” Soap asked as he finished piling meat in the preserving bin. 

“Haven’t decided. The closer you get to the mountain, the more dangerous the creatures are.” You shrugged, turning away to check your berries. You needed to do something with some of them. More hard biscuits, probably. Especially considering how many Gaz had eaten. “Gaz, let me know when you’re done with those dodos.”

“Will do.” He sneezed as a feather tried to drift up his nose, making Soap laugh at him. You just rolled your eyes. Children. 

The rest of the day passed in more or less easy work. Gaz picked up how to get the most meat off the birds quickly, only grumbling when Soap interrupted him. Ghost had vanished outside again, which you decided was Not Your Problem. Price had studied the map for a bit and then started poking around. 

It was not the same kind of quiet that you’d grown accustomed to since Jasper got killed. But it was quiet, mostly. 

Gaz helped you with dinner, which was good, because you weren't used to cooking for five. 

Dinner was quiet too. This time, Soap grabbed the dishes before you could, leaving you inside with Gaz and Price. Gaz stepped outside as well. 

Lovely. 

"You haven't searched for a way out?" Price asked, leaning back in his chair, hands folded together over his stomach. 

"I never said that," you shot back, a little annoyed. "Of course I have. Everyone has. And nobody's done it. This place is a fucking death trap." 

He was quiet for a few moments, watching you. You looked away first. 

"Forgive me if I don't believe there's no way out," he drawled.

You waved a hand. "Believe what you want," you muttered. "You'll figure it out." 

He blew out a breath. "What else do we need to learn?"

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "More about taming, later," you said. "Weapons you seem to know. We need to go through berries and edible plants, of course. Basic repairs. Basic building. Creature identification. Things to avoid at all costs." You shrugged. 

Price nodded, still relaxed in his chair, still watching you. "You haven't given up yet."

You tensed. "What?"

"You're still here. Still alive." His lips quirked in an almost-smile. "Much as you insist this place is a death trap, you haven't resigned yourself to it. Not fully. Else you wouldn't have survived this long." 

You stared at him for a few long moments, lips parted, eyes wide. Your heart beat hard and fast in your chest, the same feeling the last time you'd come across a raptor. 

You slammed out of the house before you knew what you were doing, walking fast away from that train wreck. He wasn't even entirely wrong - there was still that tiny glimmer of wondering, that tiny what if.

More than that, though, you were mad he had read you so easily. You weren't used to that. Maybe it was all the time you'd spent alone, or the lack of emotional intelligence from Jasper. 

Either way, you probably could have reacted better. 

“Love?” 

You startled a little at the nickname and half-turned to look at Gaz. The bastard had snuck up on you. “Hm?” 

“You alright?” He took a slow step closer, hands twitching at his side.

“Yes, of course.” You breathed in, swallowing hard. “You lot got the dishes done already? Gonna have to find more things for you to do before you get bored.” 

“Don’t worry about that,” Gaz murmured, taking another step closer. “We’re good at keeping ourselves busy.”

“Hm. Even so.” You turned away from him to fuss with one of Bessie’s saddle bags. “Nice having help, definitely makes the chores go faster. If that green drop is still there tomorrow maybe we’ll go find it. Green drops usually have better stuff in them.” 

“Yeah? Anything you want in particular?” He stepped around you so he could see your face again, leaning against the fence. 

“Wouldn’t mind getting a shotgun,” you admitted on a sigh. “And boots. I would kill for boots.” 

You both looked down at your current pair, which were in poor repair by now. And too big for you. 

“See what you mean,” Gaz murmured. “Well, we can check tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You breathed out again. “Long as there aren’t raptors along the way.”

“There a lot of them around here?” 

“Not usually.” You shifted your weight, finally giving up on messing with the saddle bags to mirror Gaz’s posture. “Get a little further up into the mountains, though, and there are all kinds of things. Raptors, sabertoothed cats, carnotaurus. Even rexes, if we’re really unlucky.” 

“Sounds like everything wants to eat us.” But he was still relaxed, smiling a little.

“You joke, but you’re right.” You shook your head. “There are so many things on this island that want to eat you. So many.” You shivered as the memory of screams echoed in your mind. 

He frowned, hand settling on your shoulder. "It's alright, love," he murmured. "There are five of us, now. And you've got experience. We'll manage." 

You leaned into his hand, swallowing convulsively. It had been… a long time since you'd had human contact. A long time. "You're right." You breathed in deep, trying to wrangle your emotions back under control. "We'll be okay." 

He smiled at you, warm and confident. "I know you don't know us yet," he said, shifting closer to you, brown eyes holding yours. "But we keep each other safe, and we'll do the same for you." 

You shook your head a little, smiling even as you pulled back. "Don't worry about me," you demurred. "Focus on yourselves at first. I know what I'm doing." One deep breath in and you stepped back. "Come on, we should go set up for bed." 

He nodded, motioning for you to go first. You breathed in deep before you went inside, scooping up the basket of glow crystals. 

The evening was quiet. Gaz helped you set up, and ended up sitting near you for a little while. 

"Think you're gonna name the hyaenadon?" He asked, glancing at you. 

"Oh, probably." You smiled a little. "Dunno what yet." 

He nodded, relaxing next to you. "Think it'll be right around here?" 

"I hope so." You chuckled. "Or maybe it'll find us when we go to the green drop." 

He nodded and watched as Soap and Ghost came back in too, settling down for the night. 

"You should get some sleep," you murmured to him. He was close, you could touch him. You could. It wouldn't be weird. Your gaze settled on his hand, a nice, innocent spot. "Gonna be a long day." 

"Sleep well." Gaz hesitated another moment longer before he pushed up to his feet. You watched him go.

You should have touched his hand. 

Annoyed at yourself now, you retreated to your own bed for the night. You needed to take your own advice, especially if you were leading them off to the green drop. 

Huffing to yourself, you curled up on your side with your back to them. 

It took you a long time to sleep.

Gaz helped you with breakfast the next morning, standing a little closer than he needed to. But you didn't mind. 

And then Soap crowded in on your other side, and you eyed the both of them. This felt distinctly like pranks, or something. Mischief. 

But nobody got into trouble through breakfast. Thankfully. 

It didn't take long to get armored up again, and you grabbed another piece of meat for the hyaenadon. 

“We'll take Watermelon today,” you said, glancing around at them. “He'll be good help.” 

“How so?” Gaz asked, sidling closer to you. 

“These guys are good as watch towers. They're kinda paranoid, and they alert at any sign of danger.” You shrugged, walking over to the paddock. “Hey, Watermelon. Hi cutie boy.” You held out a hand, smiling as the parasaur plodded happily over to you. “Good boy,” you cooed. 

“Big dinosaur,” Soap muttered, shifting his weight. “Ye sure it'll help?”

“Saved my ass before,” you said with a shrug. “Okay, come on. Let's get going.” You whistled for Watermelon to follow. 

The walk up to the green drop was longer than you liked, and you were on alert the entire walk. So was Watermelon, ambling behind you all and looking around constantly. 

Watermelon bleated in alarm, and you halted, gun up, scanning for the threat. 

But the only thing to approach was the hyaenadon. 

“Okay,” you breathed. “Do not shoot my hyaenadon.” You glanced back at the men to make sure they were listening. Price nodded once, so you tucked your weapon away and approached the hyaenadon. Handing over the last piece of meat was easy, and the hyaenadon wagged as it ate. She licked her lips and then sat politely in front of you, jaws parted in a canine grin. 

“Good.” You patted her on the top of her head, ruffling her fur. “Okay, come with us.” You whistled and she trotted happily along with you as you rejoined the others. 

“Done?” Price asked, glancing down at the hyaenadon. 

“Yeah. She's all tamed now.” You breathed in deep. “Alright, let's get going again.” 

You took the lead again. A quick glance back showed Soap and Ghost both giving your newest tame a good berth. But Gaz looked curious. 

Eh. You'd deal with any questions later. 

You paused at the top of a rise, looking across the flat land towards the green drop. This was a potentially dangerous area. So far all looked quiet, and the pair of pachys roaming the flat area were a good sign. 

Hopefully all would stay quiet. 

“Alright. The drop is just up there.” You glanced back at them, a little surprised to see them all already watching you. “We’re going to approach slowly. If you see anything, speak up. I've seen raptors up here before.” 

They all nodded, and you took the lead to the drop. Watermelon looked around anxiously, but stayed quiet. Probably a good sign. 

You popped open the crate, peering inside. Some armor pieces that looked too big for you, ammunition, another assault rifle, two more canteens, and… a pair of boots. 

“Hell yes,” you hissed, picking up the boots immediately. They looked like they might be a little too big, but you had extra cloth you could shove into them. Good enough. 

Gaz helped you get everything into the saddle bags, grinning when he spotted your boots. “Finally, eh?” he murmured. 

“Finally,” you agreed with an easy grin. “Alright, let’s–”

Watermelon bleated, lifting his head and looking to one side. You turned, pistol in hand, scanning the tree line.

“Raptors,” you hissed, eyes narrowing, even as you stepped forward, all too aware of the men behind you. “Fuck I hate raptors.” 

“How many?” Price asked, closer than you expected. 

“At least three.” You tracked one pacing at the edge of the trees, dark green skin blending into its surroundings. “They’re fast, be careful.” 

The first one burst from the trees with a screech, two others flanking it. You aimed for the leader, jaw tight as you timed your shots. Blood bloomed against the dark green, bright and almost startling in the sunlight. 

The leader fell, jaws still open even in death. You huffed in satisfaction. 

One of the other two leapt over the leader’s body with a screech, claws extended towards you. 

And then fell just shy of you from a shot to the eye, bleeding sluggishly. 

Your breath escaped in an unsteady whoosh, hands trembling even as you reloaded your pistol. “Nice shot,” you managed, voice more or less even, gaze still fixed on the corpse. 

“You alright?” Gaz stepped up next to you, one hand hovering near your shoulder.

“Fine.” You forced your gaze to him, plastering on a smile, even if it felt wrong. “Not the first time raptors have ambushed a drop.” You did a quick visual inspection of him before looking at the others. “Everyone okay?”

“All fine,” Price said, glancing between you and Gaz. “No injuries.”

“Good.” One more deep breath and you shoved everything down. You didn’t have room to break, to panic, to cry. Not here. “Right, let’s head back, I don’t want to see if that noise attracted anything around us.” 

The walk back to base was quiet, with all of you on high alert. The hyaenadon trotted next to you, ears perked, listening to everything around you.

You were very, very grateful that nothing came for the group of you. You were even more relieved when you closed the gates behind everyone, once again safely in base. 

“Let’s get this lot unloaded,” you said, swallowing against sudden exhaustion. “And then figure out dinner.”

“You alright?” Gaz asked softly, standing next to you to unload the armor while you grabbed your new boots. “Your hands are shaking.”

“I’m fine,” you lied with a quick smile. “Nothing to worry about. Go on, head in with those, I’m going to get Watermelon settled.”

Gaz shot you one more worried look before he obeyed, falling into step next to Price. 

Your hands didn’t stop shaking, even as you took off Watermelon’s saddle and got him settled in the paddock with Bessie again. 

You stood outside for a few extra minutes, hidden from sight of the building, just breathing. You hadn’t lost anybody today. You hadn’t lost anybody today. 

You’d make sure you didn’t lose anybody tomorrow.

#island #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #f!reader

[breannasfluff]

“Everything okay?”

Time’s voice isn’t what Wild expects when he surfaces in the river. The fish in his teeth, still wriggling, means he can only nod. He bites a little harder as the scales slip. 

The old man watches as he kicks to shore and drops more fish on the rocks. With a flash of blue, they disappear into the slate. They’ll stay in the same condition until he needs them; a bonus for fresh food on the road. 

Wild keeps an eye on Time as he finds a flat rock and pulls out a knife. The fish in his mouth is finally transferred as he cuts off the head and quickly guts it. Another slice separates the filet from the spine and he carefully pulls it off, plucking stray bones. 

“How did you catch the other fish?”

Right, Time is still watching. Well, he’s halfway through taking off the skin; not too much longer. “Bombs. Fastest way to fish.”

The old man pales, then looks faintly green. His jaw works, likely trying to decide if it’s worth chastising him about his methods. Wild doesn’t really care; it’s efficient and leaves less to chance.

Fish prepared, Wild pops a strip into his mouth and holds out another to Time. “Want some?”

“Raw?”

He shrugs. Lots of things can be eaten raw, depending on how desperate he is. Sometimes it’s not safe to build a fire to cook and he has run out of prepared meals before. 

Time takes a piece, but clearly regrets it as soon as he bites down. 

Wild snorts at his face, still working through the fish. 

With effort, Time swallows. “I don’t think that’s for me. Try Wind next time.”

He doesn’t point out that Time wasn’t exactly invited in the first place; it’s nice to share when he can. 

The old man watches the steady inhale of food and Wild can’t help the self-consciousness creeping along his back. 

“Where’d you learn to prepare fish like that? Raw, I mean?”

“Lurelin village. They do some great things with fish and citrus.” He switches to signing as he eats. ‘If I saw fish, they were easy to catch on my journey.’ He pats the slate. ‘I just wish they weren’t so slimy.”

“I’d imagine so,” Time says faintly. He’s rolling a question around and Wild waits him out. He’s working on the second filet when Time says, “You learned to eat a lot of things on your journey.”

It’s a statement, but he nods anyway. 

“Did you…always have enough to eat?” The old man asks like he doesn’t want to know the answer. 

‘I got by.’ Food was…hard to come by, sometimes. He learned to stock up; to hoard every apple or mushroom to tide him over when food was scarce. The Gerudo desert once cost him all the food in his slate and he ran out before he got to the Great Fairy Fountain shrine to warp back. Coupled with near-constant sandstorms stalling the slate; it was a bad time. 

When he first emerged from the shrine, everything was a question of edibility. The slate could identify ingredients but didn’t tell Wild how they should be prepared. 

Time’s still frowning, but further comments are stalled as Hyrule wanders down the stone path with a wave. “We wondered where you two went.”

‘Fishing,’ Wild signs, considering the remains of his fish. 

Time throws an arm around Hyrule as he approaches, letting the smaller hero lean into him. “Wild was telling me how he learned to prepare raw fish. Have you tried it before?”

“When we visited Wind’s time I did. The fish in my time aren’t…the best for eating.”

Hyrule may be bad at cooking, but he’s not a picky eater. Wild perks up at a possible ally. “What’s the strangest thing you’ve eaten?”

“Oh, um.” He’s embarrassed, shooting a darting look up at Time. “You know…lots of things.”

“Rocks, for me.”

“Rocks!” Time jerks, arm slipping off Hyrule’s shoulder. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

With a grin, Wild shakes his head. “The Gorons eat rock roast and, well…”

“This was after your amnesia, right?” 

The champion stares Time dead in the eye and shakes his head.

Read the rest here!

#linked moments #lu wild #lu hyrule #lu time #feral wild #linkeduniverse #linked universe #linked universe fanfic #breannasfluff #my writing

[da-shrimping-station]

Cooking for the House of Lamentation

Let me start this post by saying that over the years I've had plenty of experience cooking for a lot of people. I'm no expert cook whatsoever, just a helping hand in the kitchen during festivals and occasions (which happens multiple times in a year). If you have more experience and insights, please feel free to share!

Let’s start this off by having some sort of baseline so we’re all on the same page.

MC /OC/you/us/we (and what have you) can:

follow a recipe well enough

be in the kitchen and not have it burn down

cook an edible meal at the end of it all

A fairly average cook if you will.

Now, time for chaos.

Cooking for a lot of people is…a lot. A feast for upwards of 10 people can take the whole day. Not to mention buying ingredients beforehand. How many dishes are you gonna cook? Do they go well/compliment each other? What’s the serving size? Are you gonna have desserts too? Do you have the right equipment? Are the ingredients available/accessible? Is there anyone who has a food-specific condition to look out for and make alternatives for? Are there ingredients that need to be marinated/prepped in advanced? Is everything within budget? (These are some questions at the top of my head)

Now the main concern here is volume/quantity. Beelzebub. Need I say more?

Actually, YES. It’s a house full of men. Men eat a lot. Oh, and they’re also demons. So let’s assume they eat/consume significantly more than humans. (You can pitch in your HCs for each brother regarding how much they eat) But let’s say the food has to be for 10-15 people at the very least.

GROCERY RUN!

There’s a whole ass booklet for the groceries, with each brother having their own page/section. Let’s assume there’s no budget constraints (Lucifer can bitch about the cost and budgeting but his brothers need to be fed). Groceries are bought in bulk. Multiple times a week. Emergency trips in the middle of the night or else they starve for breakfast. 

At some point they get their groceries delivered every 3 days or so. The runs are now for necessity/emergency.

But if a brother requests a certain dish, then it’s time to go to the market. Prepare your haggling skills.

THE BATTLEFIELD

Based off of the game (and referencing the floor plan from Wanderer’s Whereabouts), the kitchen is actually pretty spacious. Good. We need all the space we can get for this. I’d like to think Barbatos personally made sure the kitchen is fully kitted out with all the equipment and utensils one needs. (Thanks, Barbs. You’re the best!) No worries on that end.

I headcanon that the kitchen is split into 2 parts: the side where the stoves and appliances are and the side where the dirty kitchen is. That way you have access to stoves/ovens and the fancy appliances as well as being able to cook with coal or in a spit. Increases the capacity for cooking multiple dishes at once. (Please share your HCs for the kitchen!)

PREP TIME

Prepare your hands and arms. Washing, peeling, chopping, dicing, slicing, marinating. Any and every sort of ingredient prep. How many ingredients does this dish have? Are you gonna prep one dish only? Are you gonna prep for two in advance? Mis en place (or whatever the term is im no culinary shrimp)

Also think about the sheer amount of ingredients.

Say, according to the cookbook, this dish serves 5 people and it needs 1 whole onion. Pretty straight forward right? But you’re cooking for 7 demon brothers and one being the Avatar of Gluttony. Let’s go back to the 10-15 people approximation. That means you have to increase the amount (in this case that’ll be 2 or 3 whole onions). That goes for every fucking dish. 3 onions for dish #1. What about dish #2 and #3 and so on? (Honestly, your hands must be well marinated by the time you’re done with all the prep)

Measuring the ingredients too. 1 cup of this, a tablespoon of that, a pinch of this. Please please please let there be enough soy sauce for tonight’s cooking.

Another thing: you’re probably dealing with local Devildom ingredients (which you did not even know existed until then)

Veggies? Sliced

Meats? Washed and cut.

Condiments and seasonings? All measured.

Are we ready to cook? NO.

Please clean up the peels, excesses, undesirables, and packaging.

GET THE FIRE GOING

Finally! The actual cooking part! Take a deep breath and put that pot on the stove. Good luck cuz you’re gonna be juggling between multiple dishes just to be able to get ready for dinnertime.

One dish is boiling so the meat softens? Time to fry. Oh and have you checked the one you were marinating? Please add that to the veggies in dish #2. Don’t overcook the pasta for dish #1! Please adjust the heat, that pot is boiling over. Taste test for dish #3. Hhm needs more salt. Is the meat soft enough? Good, let's season it. Please mind the fire! You’re gonna char the one you’re frying. This one has marinated long enough, we can add it to dish #2. Take dish #1 off the heat. I think it’s done. Do you think this is fried well enough?

It’s hectic. It’s a mess and a half. You make sure nothing is overcooked or undercooked. Taste test to make sure everything tastes fine. (are the dishes safe for human consumption tho)

ALL DONE!(?)

You wish! Now you have to deal with the clean up!

Wash everything you used for cooking. Pots, pans, knives, measuring cups and spoons, plates and bowls you put the ingredients in, the tasting spoons you used, the ladles and spatulas, etc

Please clean the stoves, sinks, countertops/tabletops too.

Oh yea, put away the excess ingredients and return the condiments and seasonings.

You still there? Still got energy to study and do homework later?

Personally, i clean as i go whenever i have the time in between tending to the dishes. I hate hate hate a messy/dirty kitchen while i cook it makes me wanna rage

DINNERTIME

These fuckers better sit down and eat what you cooked. No. Who the fuck cares if someone is being rowdy or moody or being dramatic. NO ONE wastes your efforts in preparing the food. Sit down and EAT.

I mean alright, maybe you can tag team dinner prep but it’s still a lot in terms of quantity and sheer volume. Will that brother be of actual help in the kitchen?

To sum it all up,

May the Universe have mercy on MC when they’re on cooking duty.

#shrimpy rambling #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #drabble #obey me headcanons #shrimpy art #obey me oc #sheep chan #obey me original character #obey me main character #obey me sheep mc #wrote this after cooking back to back to back throughout november til january #🦐:art #🦐:ramblings

[trashmouth-richie]

TEASING: ii

part i

Eddie x Fem!reader

W.C 5k

tw: NO MINORS, Teasing, edging, blowjobs, hickies blah blah blah you get it.

s/o to all the people I made read this to make sure it was good enough — @jadequeen88 @lunatictardis @b-irock 🖤🖤

The next day at school, you could feel a pair of eyes burrowing into your skin, burning holes into the back of your head. You kept your chin held high the entire day, avoiding Eddie’s glare at all costs. Knowing you had won the little game he had started. A sense of pride spreading from your chest to across your face, you couldn’t stop smiling.

Eddie was quite the opposite. Girls didn’t tease him. He was the one to call the shots. But you, you disrespected him. Taunted him, teased him— and he loathed you for it. He was embarrassed, made a fool of— and he wouldn't forget it, wouldn’t let you get away with it.

Driving home last night with a rock hard cock, he had tried to get himself off for what seemed like hours. Pumping himself furiously, his dick raw and red, he just couldn’t do it. He pictured your pretty lips, wrapped tight around his length. The silk of them rubbing back and forth against his ruddy head like it was a tube of lipstick. He thought of the way your delicate hands stretched to fit around him, the way you moaned around him, biting into his thighs, as your orgasm peaked. Your eyes looking up at him through your lashes as you teased him again, and again. He was out of lotion, his hand and wrist were cramping, sweat was pouring down his back, shirt already off, bottom lip almost bitten in half, the fitted sheet pulled from the mattress— inching further down the bed with every angry groan and thrust of his body in pursuit of trying to glimpse the tiniest bit of relief. But nothing happened. Frustrated beyond belief, he stomped into the kitchen. Sweat pants and boxers rode low on his hips, linoleum creaking beneath his heavy footsteps. He punched your number into the phone— lighting a cigarette as he cradled it with his shoulder. His hair was askew, cramped curls jutting out in every which way. He wanted you to know how much he was suffering. How badly you had fucked up his night. Maybe the sound of your voice coaxing him would help— give him some sort of release.

His heart leapt when you answered, only to crash and burn when you simply stated, “I’m asleep Munson, leave me alone.” And hung up.he cursed your name, slamming the receiver into the wall until it broke, can’t wait to hear that ass chewing from Wayne, he thought to himself— Eddie threw himself into the shower, angrily washing his hair, and body, trying like mad to avoid the pressure building in his lower belly as he forced himself to think of something else, anything other than the pain that ached through his body.

The night was miserable. Having spent most of it outside on the porch smoking cigarette after cigarette. Sulking into the tattered, sagging, brown couch—the skinny, feral trailer park cats keeping him company as they tipped over the neighbors garbage cans, scrounging for the last lick of a carton of vanilla ice cream. He stayed on the couch til the early peaks of the hazy yellow sun glimmered across the hail damaged tinned roofs of the poverty-stricken homes before he started getting ready for school. 6:30, 6:56, 7:15, 7:23 and he couldn’t wait any longer. He fumbled through the pocket of the jeans he wore yesterday for the few crumbled dollars, and made his way outside, starting the old van, driving to the gas station in search of some cheap, barely edible breakfast burritos.

With the burritos dancing around his stomach and a swig of Yoo-hoo slurped on his lips, Eddie sits in the parking lot—staring, waiting, half crazed eyes as he waits for your car to pull in. Body pumping with false energy— adrenaline from being so irate about his current blue balls situation, your car finally pulls into the lot and eddie makes his move.

All the hours spent awake chain smoking, fuming mad— he thought of the perfect things to say, things that would make you break, make your pussy clench around nothing, make you so feral and horny for him that you would be begging for him by the end of the day. He hops out of the van, attitude cranked up to full blast, charm at an all time high.

You eye his van before he even sees you, butterflies flutter in your stomach, a quick ache of feeling like shit is about to hit the fan. Ignore him, I can do that. So you do, when he slams his van door and approaches you twiddling his rings on his hands and stomping towards your open car door, you act like he isn’t even there. His velvet smooth voice purring out your name doesn’t phase you. Slinging your backpack over your shoulder, and knocking him in the chest, you simply shut your car door and walk inside.

The game has only begun.

His temper is unmatched. Blood boiling over to the surface as you pretend he doesn’t exist. You spend the morning laughing with friends, head thrown back— the expanse of your neck dancing along with the sunlight craning through the biology room windows. Three pencils have snapped in his grip as he tries, for the first time ever, to feverishly take notes. Anything to get his mind off the way your legs are crossed and the fact that your skirt rides higher every time you re adjust them. Now you’re chewing gum, blowing soft pepto bismol colored bubbles with your luscious lips, the same ones that were wrapped around the thick of his cock last night when you teased him and left him with swollen balls. Each pop from your gum and smack between your teeth has Eddie’s dick twitching in his jeans, rubbing raw against the itchy fabric of his checkered boxers. His jaw is aching from the forced detachment, mouth drier than any cotton mouth he’s experienced, tongue stuck inside his cheek as he forces his gaze from your legs. When your pencil drops and you fetch to reach it, bending at the waist, as you crane to reach out for it rolling along the tiled floor, your fingers gently grazing the ground as they finally connect to where the pencil lays, Eddie thinks he’s going to have a heart attack. The button on your shirt pops open exposing the swell of your breasts, the baby pink lace of your bra nuzzled against your soft skin has Eddie’s head spinning. His eyes are following your heaving chest, watching as your tits jiggle under your bent body. He’s fully hard now. It's not long before he’s tilting on his stool, to get a better look— one leg off the ground, and he can almost smell your perfume. Two legs in the air, and he’s smelling the shampoo from your hair, and finally all four are air bound as Eddie crashes to the ground in a puddle of leather, chains and shame.

You don’t bat an eye at him or his theatrics. Simply raising your hand to answer Mr. Gordon’s question about how many quarts of blood an average human has in their body. The heat from Eddie’s cheeks could be felt around the room. Counting down the seconds til the bell rang ending the period and his embarrassment, Eddie gathers his things and stomps out of class in a whirlwind of leather, messy curls and flushed red cheeks.

You: 1 Eddie: 0

Lunch isn’t any better. You make it a point to sit beside Jeff—across from Eddie, not next to him as you usually would. Eddie tried to calm his nerves, you’re still avoiding him like the plague, twirling your hair through your fingers pretending to be interested in the way Jeff talks about Black Sabbath. Eddie’s flicking pretzels into Mike’s hair— a makeshift way to distract himself from the way you have your fingers cloaked around Jeff’s arms asking him to flex his muscles.

Your low murmurs into Jeff’s ear have him adjusting himself in his chair. Your charm is thick, and Eddie can’t stop staring at the way your lips dance on the shell of Jeff’s ear, as you whisper to him. The ache in his stomach is back as you lean back and fix the collar of Jeff’s flannel, fingers skirting around his shoulders as if you were playing Mozart. Your black fingernail polish glistening in the sun, shining tiny flecks of glitter as they walk across Jeff’s shoulders, rubbing down his chest. Eddie feels like he’s going to vomit at any second. White hot rage pumping through his veins as you continue your teasing banter, licking your lips, popping grapes into your mouth one by one, sucking on the sweet juices and letting your tongue brush against your lips as if to not miss a single drop.

Maybe if he just talked to you, you would respond? “So, y/n. Are you excited for Hellfire tomorrow night?” he says nonchalantly, praying it’s passing as casual.

“Hell what?” You dismiss, still not turning to look at him, but instead threading your fingers and feeding Jeff a grape with your other hand.

“Uh umm.. Hellfire?” Jeff adds, “Y’know, Hellfire club, we m-meet on Fridays.”

“Oh, yeah—that,” you snicker, “I quit.”

“What do you mean ‘I quit’” Eddie mimics back to you.

Ignoring the question, you turn to Jeff and whisper in his ear, squeezing his arm and squealing as he stutters through an answer to your own question, “how are you the sexiest man in Hawkins?” When it happens. The tin of Eddie’s lunchbox beats down on the table with such a force it dents the side, concaving his metal tin full of weed and plastic baggies.

“Enough.” Eddie shouts with flared nostrils and a booming voice. His eyes are wide and the muddy browns of them are replaced by pure hatred of onyx, absorbing every color and fading them to black as he glares straight through you. You had finally crossed the line. Made a fool of him in front of his friends. His chair is pushed backwards cascading to the ground with a loud snap of hardened plastic hitting the tiled floor. One fist clenched around his beaten up lunch box, the other ridgid hanging by his side. “Outside, now.”

You reposition the foot you had propped up on Jeff’s crotch as you lean into him, taking a spoonful of his pudding and placing it into your mouth as you look at Eddie, batting your lashes slow and licking the cold metal of the spoon as you pull it out of your mouth slowly, teasing, taunting, unholy movements of your tongue. “I think he’s talking to you, Gareth,” you quip, motioning to him with the spoon.

Gareth doesn’t move, frozen with fear over Eddie’s reaction.

“No,” he seethes through bared teeth, “I’m talking to you, let’s go.” He motions his head towards the door walking closer to you and Jeff.

“I know you’re not trying to talk to me like that,” you fume, eyes still boring into his as you switch the spoon pointing from Gareth to Eddie, “so please, enlighten us,” you say, folding an arm beneath your chest tucked into the elbow of the other that is now resting on the side of your face, glaring back at Eddie as your tongue jabs to the inside of your cheek, “who the fuck, are you talking to?”

The table goes silent, Dustin looks as if he has seen a real live ghost, his skin the color of the pale walls, sticky with sweat on his upper lip, Mike is counting water marks on the ceiling tiles, and Jeff is dumbstruck, eyes wide and a slight look of horror set on his face.

Eddie doesn’t give up and you don’t budge— a standstill in the cafeteria that would make Wild Bill itch for his pistol. The tumbleweeds can practically be seen as you both stare each other down waiting for the other to draw first. Eddie gives in, narrowing his eyes and lowering his chin as he speaks, “I’m gonna count down from three before I jump on this table and tell the whole school about last night— unless of course you want to just leave nicely, like a good girl, and talk to me.”

“What’s there to tell Munson?” You chastise, standing up so you’re practically nose to nose with him, egging him on with the smell of your perfume and the sheen of your lipgloss, those lips alone would kill him, “the begging part, or the part where you were whining?” A devilish smile seeps across your lips and spreads like wild fire, avoiding your eyes as you stare him down, the lunch table erupts with oo’s as Eddie yanks you hard by hand away from the lunch table. The squeak of his boots and the click of your flats echo throughout the cafeteria as he pulls you out the back door. “Let go, Eddie!” You’re slapping at his arms as you try to wiggle from his grip.

“I just— I need to know, ” he hisses, once you made your way to the worn down picnic table that he used for making his deals in the woods, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The coals of his eyes still raking over your body like fire.

“What are you talking about Eddie?” you smirk, the facade of taking the upper hand still playing safe across your lips.

“Jesus H Christ, I do not understand you! One minute you’re all over me sucking my dick and the next you’re shoving me out of your door and moving on to Jeff. What the fuck?!”

“Oh kiss my ass,” you huff, rolling your eyes and breathing out, “it hurts doesn’t it?” you provoke, prodding his nerves with the lick of the words on your tongue, “..being teased.”

“What?” Eddie exaggerates the syllables of the short word, voice raspy as he continues, “I never teased you, baby.”

He didn’t get it, and he wouldn’t unless you had explained it to him from your point of view, but this wasn’t a subject to be learned in school, no— this was a lesson to be taught by the hard truth of reality, and two very stubborn people.

“Sit down,” you demand, pointing to the picnic bench, “now.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie stammers, looking dumbfounded. You roll your eyes and drag him by his vest, fingers clutching around the sun faded denim, nails scratching a Megadeth patch, and shove him down hard on the bench, the picnic table groans at the force of his body being dropped down onto it.

He leans back on the picnic bench, man spreading and his elbows resting on the table behind him, eyes dripping with desire as you approach him, “What d’ya think big boy?” You croon, undoing the buttons on your top and shimming it down your arms as you face away from him, turning to reveal the pink lacy bra he had been daydreaming about since Biology, “think you need some relief?”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, the desire and hunger pitted deep inside, angry from being forced down again, “h-here? Like right now?” You nod slowly as you walk towards him, one slow tantalizing step at a time, your shirt thrown to the autumn foiled ground.

“Is that what you want? Hmm? Want me to put that big fucking cock in my mouth?”

“Yes— please oh my god, baby I am— I need it.” Eddie whines, shutting his eyes and putting his hands together in a silent prayer, as if this mother fucker has ever stepped foot in a church aside from the day he was baptized.

“Beg.” Groaning, as you put your hands on either side of him on the bench, licking the slope of his neck and blowing on it gently, Eddie lets out a guttural moan, pistoning his hips up as you bite his neck. “I want you to beg for me to touch you.”

“Babe, I swear—please, I’ll do anything! Anything at all! Please it—it hurts.” He whines. You continue kissing his neck, deepening the marks with bites until his neck is purple. Branding him as yours, painting him as your weak begging soul desperate for your touch. He’s falling apart at the seams, moaning so loud a local hunter swore to friends later at the Hideout that it was an injured 6 point buck, finding out later it just was two horny high schoolers. He’s shaking beneath you, as you straddle his slim waist, digging your knees into his hips as you slot your pussy against his bulging jeans. His long hair tangled against the peeling paint and splintered top of the picnic table as his head was thrown back in pleasure.

The pace you’re setting is torturous, damning him to all seven circles of your teasing hell as your tongue paints his neck, hips grating against him riding him slow and hard. Your tits are pushed up against his Judas Priest shirt, nipples perky and pointed from the cold, cutting into his burning skin.

“Oh princess, oh fuck—I’m gonna c—”

“No you aren’t.” You immediately remove yourself from his lap, standing abruptly and swiping your saliva from the corner of your mouth.

“No, please I can’t— please don’t do this to me.” He’s whining again, face full of anguish as you giggle at his discretion.

You smirk, “don’t do what Eddie? I’m just making you feel good.” Blinking at him with full lashes and innocence dripping from your eyes.

He’s panting as if he just ran a mile, sweat is pouring down his back the same way it was last night. He’s tired and slowly losing his mind watching your tits bounce wildly in your pink lacy bra as you back away from him.

“Bullshit, you know what you’re doing— don’t tea—“

“Tease you?” you offer, crawling towards him on all fours. The sultry way your body is moving has him gasping for air, tits squished together as you crawl to him, a glass of water in the desert to a lost soul isn’t needed as much as he needs you right now. You sit on your knees in front of him, stretching out your back and letting your hair flow behind you, arms tucked at the back of your neck to showcase your curves, a wonderland of soft skin and peaks and valleys in the dips of your body. Your feet are tucked underneath you— the squish and rustle of leaves dance around you as you adjust yourself. His knees are bouncing with anticipation, his face is torn with want and a pleading wrinkle between his brows. You rub his thighs up towards his slutty waist and scratch the dark denim with your nails on the way down to his knee caps. You lay your head against his knee, one hand stretched lazily against his inner thigh, writing your name with your nail against the denim, ending with a heart right by his overly full sack. “Oh baby, I’ve only just begun.”

Eddie has never been more excited and elated to hear the sound of a zipper coming undone, brass teeth disconnecting to spread open to a blue pair of checkered boxers, his aching, ruddy cock one step closer to your mouth or even your hand, he’d take either at this point as long as you touched him, finally releasing his pent up anger, almost 16 hours worth of blue balls able to let go to the heavens. He swears he’d take up bible study just to have your touch on his dick.

“My, my… what have we here?” you seduce as you admire his length, pressing the fabric of his boxers around his dick to outline it with your finger as you drag your nail along it, a paint brush sweeping and defining a fossil from eons ago, you keep this up any longer and Eddie will be a fossil, a visual aid skeleton to scare kids away from using recreational drugs.

He hissed through his teeth, a sticky pool of cold pre cum dotted his boxers right where the tip sat. “Please baby, please.” Eddie prays, begging, pleading.

“Mmm more begging,” you announce as you slowly lower the waistband of his boxers, revealing the thatch of curls around his pretty cock. Your eyes dart to his, he looks delirious, miserable and almost sad, it turns you on, fuels your fire to see him like this. “Makes me wet just hearing how pathetic you get.” Licking your lips you ease out his girthy cock, tears spill from Eddie’s eyes at the contact of your hand around him.

“Fuck,” he groans, letting his head lull back and his eyes roll into his skull, all the colors of the rainbow dance and crowd his vision with white blurs as he tries to steady his breathing. “Oh Jesus, mmm.”

You stretch your fingers around him, lightly tugging along his length and pressing your plump lips to his reddened aching head. You swirl your tongue around it, soothing the pressure built up and tasting the last bits of precum on your tongue.

“M-more, please, mm fuck,” Eddie’s shortened nails are scratching at the bench beneath him, eight scratches clawing through decades old weathered wood decayed from abandonment and abuse of stoners fucking in the small enclosure of high trees and thick brush. This was, however, Eddie’s first time having a sexual experience out here, he had thought about it many times. A faceless girl with your body and voice bouncing on top of him as he lay flat on the top of the picnic table.

Your mouth skates down his shaft and your lips curl against the thick vein running underneath of his cock, slotting it between your lips as your tongue slips out to taste it. As much as you loved teasing him, Eddie was very well endowed. The biggest dick you’ve had the pleasure of wrapping your lips around, and he was gorgeous. “Y’ like this? Watching my pretty little mouth rubbing on your cock?”

“Y-yes, oh shit—” he moans, he’s a fucking mess, writhing beneath you and you haven’t even fully sucked him off yet, “‘m gonna fuckin explode, need more please, please I swear I won’t tease you anymore.” He lifts his hips from the bench to drive more contact into you, but you pull away, and he whines, chest heaving with a pout as you chuckle.

“Fuck you’re needy.” You taunt as you lick a broad stripe from his balls to the tip, spitting generously when you get to the top, and paint it down his length with your hands, he sucks in a breath as you pump him. His begging continues, and you’re trying hard not to laugh at the shit he is spewing from that gorgeous mouth if his. You’re almost certain he promised you the keys to his van when you finally have enough of his whining and dive in. Opening wide and immediately hollowing your cheeks as you suck him deep into your throat, tongue sitting pretty against his balls as you lick them and breathe through your nose.

The noise Eddie makes resembles a hallelujah chorus. Stars are spinning and falling from the galaxy around him. Hell could open at this very moment and Eddie wouldn’t bat an eye. He has never felt anything better than your mouth— wet, hot, deliciously soft and ooey gooey like a ban of under-baked brownies. Better than his first time getting high at 14 and one hundred times better than his own hand or any other filthy whore he had been with, looking for a discount on his famously rolled joints.

This is heaven, the pearly gates are staring him in the face and rolling their metaphorical tongue along his cock, wrapping him in a hug of cotton candy clouds and sugar coated spit, sucking his soul straight through his dick and selfishly keeping it.

You pull back, feeling all of his girthy length extract from you, dragging against your throat slowly and releasing him with a pop. Your hands replace your mouth and jerk him in twisting motions as your mouth suctions along his tip, tongue swirling and twirling around his reddened head as he moans with pleasure, muscles completely relaxed, melting into the picnic table.

He’s babbling incoherently as his hands find purchase on your hair, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. A gentle reminder of how sweet this needy man child is. You pump him slow, as your mouth works around his girth, slurping and massaging his dick.

His breathing speeds up and you know he’s close. He tries to hide it, pushing down his excitement but keeping his face trained on you so he can finally get the release he so desperately craves.

But you can read him like a book.

And you aren’t done with him yet. You pull away from him just as his dick starts to twitch.

Your panties are dripping, seeing this sexy ass man whimper and beg for you to touch him is hotter than you could imagine.

“No!” He whines, “ No no no no no pleeease —please! I’m begging— I’m going to— fuck! I’m dying. I need you. Please please!” Another tear rolls down his cheek at the empty lonely feeling around his cock, the cool air stinging at his wet length.

“Ah ah ah,” you tut, wagging a finger towards him in a windshield wiper motion, “you’ll cum when I say you can.” You stand and throw a leg over his lap facing him straddling his lap again. Hiking up your skirt and letting your dripping clothed cunt slide around his cock you grab his hands and place them on your tits as you grind down onto him, throwing your head back, Eddie kisses your neck, sucking a bruise into it as you twirl his curls through your fingers. You moan out into the void of the orange and red lined trees, birds taking flight abandoning their posts as you both grind against each other.

“F-fuck baby,” Eddie groans against the heat of your neck, “you’re so fucking wet.” Pulling your head back you look at him, the facade you had been carrying all day breaking away as you start to slip. Your belly burns with a knot that’s unraveling—one that Eddie tied inside of you all those weeks ago. His lips are slick from his own spit, curls are swaying and bouncing as you move against each other, on the same page for the first time. Fuck he’s so hot. He holds your hips and grinds you down onto him harder, your clit brushing against the friction of your panties and his thick cock has you speechless.

You're both needy for each other now. You kiss him, hot and deep, all tongue and plump lips. All this teasing and you had never felt his lips on yours. They’re softer than you imagined, he tastes like cheap cigarettes and 10¢ fruity flavored gum from the gas station sold in packs of five sticks. He twists your nipples and holds you by the curve of your neck where it meets under your chin, driving his hips harder against you. “Eddie,” you moan into his mouth, tongue dragging along his delicious lips, sucking the spot where his cigarette always hangs loosely from, the taste of nicotine biting your tongue, “m gonna— fuck— I’m gonna cum.”

He licks into your open mouth, as you close your eyes and lean your head back, “I know baby,” he reaches down and rubs your clit with his thumb, “cum for me, I’m right b-behind you.” The pressure of his thick fingers and girthy cock on your pussy builds and the knot unravels. You moan louder than you ever had, holding onto Eddie’s shoulders so you don’t convulse off of him. He comes too, holding you tight to his body as warm spurts of his cum shoot against your pussy, painting your skin and panties creamy white as he finally releases his pent up 16 hour hell. Every curse word is rolling from his tongue as more tears stream down his face. He’s a free man, no longer bound to his own body, his balls finally drained and definitely lighter. He’s exhausted, he’s been awake for too damn long, mind sick with worry and regret, dick aching from the boner he had for the better half of an entire day. A bruise sets in his back from all the commotion against the picnic table, one he’d wear proudly for weeks to come.

He presses kisses into your shoulder as you lay lazily against him. Breath ragged in his ear, sweat shined foreheads and cramping muscles. Knees scratched up and bleeding from the roughness of the bench. Your blood mixed with his nail scratches on the bench, a permanent testament to the best orgasms you had both ever received— in this life and future ones yet unlived.

“By the way,” Eddie finally speaks, after endless moments stroking your back with his eyes closed breathing you in, “I only teased you because I like you, like a lot.” His admission lifted the sag from his shoulders and floated high above him.

“Well since we’re admitting things,” you voice barely above a whisper, your eyes dancing in slits as your finger traces the letters printed on his shirt, “I only joined Hellfire to be around you.”

“Oh that’s not a secret sweetheart, you’re really fucking bad at it.” he teases, tickling your sides.

You squirm under his grip, slapping his arms to get him to stop. “Knock it off Munson or I’ll quit for real!”

Eddie pulls you away from him with mock surprise, “You wouldn’t.”

“Have you learned nothing from this?” You ask, booping him on the nose, “the lengths of petty I will go to, are no match for you, Munson.”

“Clearly,” Eddie spits, “you’re a deranged brat, I wanted to spank you during lunch after watching you feed Jeff like a baby.”

Your eyebrows pull into a quirk,, “I’m real simple to understand babe,” you explain, kissing Eddie’s neck, “don’t fuck with me or in your case, maybe just fuck me.”

“Mmm, can I take you out after Hellfire tomorrow?” Eddie asks, grinning from ear to ear.

You suck a breath through your teeth, pulling back to look at Eddie, “I don’t know, I think I have a date with Jeff..”

“Oh fuck you,” he replies, rolling his eyes with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest.

You pry his arms away from himself and lick a stripe from his collar to his ear, biting his lobe and whispering, “When and where, big boy?”

Taglist: @sweetsweetjellybean @alanamarie @word-wytch

#eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie fan fiction #eddie smut

[desswright29]

Shame Pt.1

Hello all! I am very new to all of this, but this story came to my head while listening to this song and I was like well hell why not give it a try! Thought I’d give you guys a taste and you let me know if you want more! If you do this Series will be a definite roller coaster. Hope you want to know more about my girls and the story of how they got here!

Prologue

Shuri stood frozen in the middle of the New York State Capital building. A burning sensation starting in her chest, quickly spreading throughout her entire body. Okoye to her left, hand settled firmly in the center of her back as Nakia stood to her right firmly grasping her bicep, both with the intention of keeping their Queen stable on her feet as they all looked up at the screens with a mixture of emotions. 

 They’d come to The States to start plans on the new outreach program for the state of New York. As they walked into the building there was an obvious distraction that peaked Shuri’s interest to say the least. People were gathered in groups watching their phones or headed towards somewhere where there was a television. As she walked through the building she noticed sympathetic glances thrown her way. 

“What in Bast’s name is every one looking at?” Okoye says on high alert. “Something does appear off.” Nakia chimes in. “Ikumkani wam if you feel uncomfortable at any moment we will retreat.” “I am fine Okoye. I don’t believe their to be any threat. Let us follow the crowd” Shuri continues her confident strut following behind the crowd ignoring the weird looks she’s receiving. Nakia and Okoye shoot eachother a look as they follow ready and willing to protect the Queen and Black Panther at all cost.

     As they came up on the crowd in the center of the building they were all looking up at the screen with fond looks of adoration. Smiles, tears, hushed conversation. “She’s beautiful.” “She deserves this after what happened.””I’m so very happy for her.”

   All three women looked up at the screen in confusion to see…. A wedding. “All the commotion over a wedding? Must be royalty.”

The bride walked down the aisle in one of the most beautiful gowns Shuri had ever seen veil covering her face, as her groom sang to her a song he wrote for her special for this occasion. It was beautiful. 

   But something felt familiar about this bride. A strange feeling tugged at Shuri’s chest her breathing picking up. The bride walked up to her groom. As he finished up the song he took his mic free hand and gently removed the veil from his brides face to reveal a beautiful beaming bride. With beautiful brown glowing skin that she used to refer to jokingly as”Pecan butter tan”. It was always the perfect description to Shuri because when it all boiled down to it Shuri always thought she looked edible, smooth and buttery. With her perfectly beautiful smile that lifted the apples of her cheeks adorably. 

“Y/N” Shuri let out breathlessly.

Okoye and Nakia immediately held Shuri stable. However, pointless because Shuri couldn’t move if she wanted to. Frozen. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. As Shuri watched the love of her life … Marrying someone? Some.. Man?

She felt her breathing become shallow. Immediately becoming over stimulated. Feeling  Claustrophobic, everything was too much. She started to hyperventilate. She took off not caring who she knocked over to find a place of solitude. This couldn’t be happening. 

‘I know it was a while ago but I’m better now! I’m better for her! I have to have another chance! Please Bast, No this isn’t real’ so many thoughts ran through her head as she found a sign for a restroom she ran in lucky it’s empty locking the door behind her. 

   Shuri felt the familiar pain in her belly as she crossed her arms across her center in agony. She slid down the wall to the floor groaning as tears flowed freely from her eyes. Choking on a sob trying to breathe.

 “Shuri! Open the door!” Okoye whisper yelled 

“Shuri you need someone with you when you get like this. You haven’t had one in a while let us be here for you!” Nakia spoke up.

  It’s all background noise to her. 

“I can’t break. I can’t break. I can’t break” she chanted over and over to herself. 

She’d really fucked up that bad? It’s really over? ‘I was getting better… baby I was gonna be better for you. Please.’

#shuri fanfiction #shuri udaku #shuri x reader #shuri imagine #shuri x you #shuri fic #shuri angst #Spotify #letitia wright #letitiawright #wakanda forever #black panther wakanda forever #shuri black panther

[yuurei20]

Leona Info Compilation part 5: Ruggie (pt3)

We see Leona employ Ruggie in a variety of roles such as protecting him during Beanfest (for a “daily special” from the cafeteria every day for a week), taking on his assignments during Vargas Camp (for a shopping trip that Ruggie took with Leona’s money) and recruit new students for the spell drive club (for doughnuts).

The task Ruggie dislikes the most might be having to pick up Leona’s room and do laundry, which we hear him complain about fairly often, but Leona pays for washing Ruggie’s clothes along with his own.

Ruggie seems to be uncomfortable with receiving charity—when Silver offers to lend him money, Ruggie refuses—which is possibly why Leona is always having to find roundabout ways to support Ruggie financially.

Since Ruggie will not accept money unless he feels like he is getting away with something Leona does things like give Ruggie both his wallet and his permission to buy whatever it is he wants in exchange for standing in line at the school store.

If it weren’t for the appearance of a monster that they needed magic in order to fight off, it is likely that Leona had been intending to let Ruggie smuggle a magestone out of the mines to sell, as well.

In a vignette we see Ruggie talking to himself about wishing he could afford to eat more when Leona suddenly appears behind him.

We do not know how much Leona overheard, but when Ruggie says he needs money to buy detergent for washing Leona’s clothes, Leona tosses him his wallet and tell him to take what he needs and keep the change.

Ruggie points that out he has nothing but large bills and Leona responds, “Why’re you getting all hung up on the details?"

Ruggie reflects that Leona probably wouldn’t even notice if he kept more in change than what the detergent costs, saying, “far be it from me to look a gift horse in the mouth, though. Cha-ching!”, seemingly unaware that that is likely Leona’s exact intent.

Ruggie charges Leona “at least ten thaumarks an hour” in exchange for his help during Fairy Gala (we never see Leona haggle with Ruggie to try and underpay him; Leona always goes along with whatever price Ruggie dictates), and Ruggie seems free to refuse tasks he does not like, such as passing on messages to Malleus.

When Jamil comments that serving Leona seems “far more painful” than serving Kalim, Ruggie says that serving Kalim would just make him uncomfortable, and there is “a lid for every pot.”

Ruggie himself explains that while Leona is used to ordering people around and is a demanding boss, he is always giving things to Ruggie for him to sell.

Leona also helps with Ruggie’s education, as Night Raven College is Ruggie’s first time attending a school.

Ruggie says that Leona tutors him on lessons he does not understand and provides him with reference books and old exams, as well as “tons of useful advice”, directly resulting in a significant increase in Ruggie’s grades from “bottom of the ladder” to “somewhere just below the middle”.

In addition to never arguing with Ruggie about money Leona seems to follow his demands in other areas as well, such as not skipping classes that Ruggie insists he must attend and reluctantly eating vegetables that Ruggie puts on his plate for lunch.

Leona does not seem to like the food at the school cafeteria (calling the steaks “cheap” in Book 6) which makes sense, as he is a prince, and he is one of the strictest judges in Culinary Crucible (on par with Vil), grading meals with a 4 that Ruggie grades as 8.

However, Ruggie has a voice lines saying, “When it comes to cooking, all I can do it throw together whatever’s on hand, but it seems like Leona doesn’t care as long as it’s edible.”

This seems to insinuate that Leona either just prefers Ruggie’s cooking in particular, or at the very least he refuses to complain about it.

#leonafacts #leona kingscholar #twisted wonderland #twstfacts #twstleona