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#I wrote two today
st4rd0lly · 2 months
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𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋
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cw : fem reader , oral sex (reader receiving) , slight teasing , MDNI
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dazai, your teasing coworker who oh so graciously offers to fuck the stress you have out of you.
you deny him at first of course, you scold him and brush him off quickly. sleeping with a guy like him? please, you were better than that.
when you weren’t stressed at least.
so fuck, was it tempting to take him up on his offer. he wasn’t helping at all ever since he’s noticed you were stressed. from your furrowed brows, the scrunch of confusion on your face, to the way you muttered curses under your breath and put your head in your hands one too many times than usual. 
he took this as advantage to poke some light fun at you that you normally wouldn’t mind, but is he really your typical coworker Dazai if he didn’t get on your nerves at least once? you were absolutely certain he was doing this on purpose.
but you were better than this. right ?
“eyes on me pretty.”
he gently slaps the side of your thigh, looking up at you with those stupidly pretty brown eyes. you look back down at him, your entire body feeling hot underneath his touch. no one else was in the office except you two as everyone else had went home for the day. his tongue swirls around your clit before pressing down on it, you pant and whine in need. 
“mmm, I think you’re so much better when you’re falling apart nicely for me like this.” he groaned, arms hooked around the plush of your thighs. you squirmed in your seat, your hand gripping his hair to pull him closer and a loud whine escapes your mouth. 
“dazai, please— i need this..”
your head throws back and he stops his movements. but you remember to bring your eyes back to his, your chest heaving up and down, making such a precious sight for him. “atta’ girl..” he whispered, his tongue sliding into your hole before slipping back out to make a long stripe. 
“you don’t need to think about a thing when i’m righttt here isn’t that true? be nice to me and i’ll be nice to you yeah?”
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dividers : @/cafekitsune
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drawnfamiliarfaces · 1 month
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i... wrote a smol fic (っ´▽`*)っ
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also!!!!! If you haven't seen it - shoutout to first ever published fic in Ninja Showdown/My Immortal Soul tags - Lustrous Red by @missadmyre !!!
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osamusriceballs · 8 months
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Last-Minute Plans
Ushijima x fem reader
Warnings: NSFW (cockwarming, rather soft)
Words: ~ 1,5 k
About: Wakatoshi got a ring for you, and he needs to make sure it fits.
A/n: Happy Birthday to our beloved Wakatoshi-kun~
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"It fits,"
he mumbles with a sigh of relief, one he hadn't realized he was holding. He looks contently at the jewelry now adorning your ring finger.
Ushijima knows that he's late with this. He should have attempted this plan a long time ago; he despises last-minute actions. Lately, however, you've insisted on waiting until he returns home late from practice due to extended training sessions just before the crucial match, making it impossible for him to secretly slip that ring onto your finger to see if it fits. He's aware he hasn't been giving you the time you deserve lately, but he's determined to make it up as soon as he can. He intends to spoil you as soon as the match is over and his schedule finally allows him to have more free time, treating you like the princess you are.
He had nearly abandoned the idea of trying the ring on your finger. He considered simply hoping for the best, planning to alter the ring quickly after proposing if it didn't fit. He knows you wouldn't have minded, but he wanted this moment to be perfect. The first difficulty he had encountered, however, was that you had rings in various sizes in your jewelry box- probably for different fingers, but even after sorting through them, he was still not convinced that he chose the right size.
Relief washes over him as he sees the ring fitting comfortably, and for a short moment, he envisions your future together. He dreams of having you sleep beside him every night, of going on the vacation you've always dreamed of, and of giving you the beautiful wedding ceremony you've always wanted. He's already asked Tendou to be his best man and informed his parents of his plans. He even decided to send his father a notice that his son will be getting married soon—hopefully.
The ring looks stunning on your hand. It's noticeable yet subtly elegant. He's confident you'll love it; you've often praised his taste, describing him as simple in his choices, which you adore.
His gaze drifts to your peaceful sleeping form. You must be exhausted not to have woken up yet. Normally, you'd wait until he returns or awaken when he quietly lies down beside you, an act he's yet to master. You'd always greet him with a tender kiss, a gesture he cherishes most during his days and misses the most when he's away. Yet, you sleep soundly, your face soft, breathing steady. You're wearing one of his shirts, the old Shiratorizawa jersey you claim is the comfiest—adorable on you, he agrees.
He's fairly certain you're wearing only flimsy panties beneath, but he'll take his sweet time tomorrow to explore every inch of your body.
"Toshi," your sleepy voice pulls him from his daydreams, and he quickly hides the ring, clutching your hand in his. You stir, turning towards him, brows furrowing as you reach out blindly.
"Y/n, go back to sleep. It's late," he murmurs in a soothing tone, knowing you find his voice calming.
"I missed you," you groan, squinting your eyes as you try to make out his face in the dimly lit room.
"I missed you too," he replies, smiling softly and leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. You smile in return, bringing your free hand to his cheek, a bit clumsily—almost slapping his face, but he doesn't mind; he is simply happy having you close.
"You haven't shaved today," you mumble as you caress his cheek. He hums in response. "I forgot. Does it bother you?"
"No, it doesn't. But you never forget to shave. What was on your mind today?"
You, he thinks, but for once, he refrains from sharing his thoughts. He needs to distract you, to take back the ring unnoticed. How you haven't noticed it so far surprises him.
"I was thinking about…" he begins, his voice trailing off, unsure how to respond without you getting suspicious.
"Wakatoshi, come to bed. You seem really tired," you yawn, and he suddenly knows what he needs to do.
Ushijima leans down to kiss you again, this time deepening the kiss with more passion. He feels your response, your body arching into his touch, your lips moving in sync with his.
"Toshi," you're already breathless after a few kisses, and he finally feels your hand relax, fingers intertwining with his with the metal still on your finger. He typically holds your hand more firmly, but now he keeps his grip gentle, ensuring you don't feel the ring on your finger. With his free hand, he traces the hem of your shirt, his fingers gliding beneath the fabric, encountering the softness of your skin.
"Want you, but I'm tired," you whisper against his lips, prompting him to nuzzle against your neck. "Should I pleasure you? Should I make you feel full?" You moan softly and weakly nod, your eyes barely open in the dark room. Unbeknownst to you, a wave of relief washes over him. This may not be going exactly as he planned, but making love to you with the ring already on your finger is better than he could have imagined.
He quickly runs through potential scenarios in which he could smoothly slide the ring off your finger, deciding to position himself behind you while maintaining a hold on your hand in front of your body. Shifting his body weight, he maneuvers behind you until his chest presses against your back. He skillfully settles beneath the blanket without releasing your hand, making sure not to tighten his grip around your fingers. His lips find your neck, where he places the gentlest kisses against your skin, earning the softest, most beautiful moans from your lips. His hips begin to rhythmically move against your backside, and he feels how he hardens in his pants.
You contently hum while you lean into his touch, raising one leg to allow him to slip his thigh between yours. "Feels good," you murmur as he starts a grinding motion against your pussy. He feels his growing need, a nearly instinctive response to your body. His earlier suspicion about you wearing only his shirt and panties appears accurate; that much he notices when his shorts ride up and his bare thigh grinds against your cunt. As much as he wants the feeling of your bare skin against his, he knows that undressing might raise too much suspicion. Instead, he guides his free hand downward, gently tracing circles against your clothed center.
"You're so perfect. So beautiful. I love you so much," he whispers into your ear, causing you to shudder in his arms. Your grip on his hand tightens, while your other hand softly clutches the sheets. He understands your needs. Grateful that he's still wearing the soft shorts, he pushes them down slightly, quickly freeing his cock.
"Should I use some lube?" he asks, concern lacing his voice, worried about hurting you since he hasn't fully prepared you yet—a truly challenging task when ensuring your hand remains held and he can only use one hand properly.
"Think I'm wet enough," you mumble, and he dips two fingers between your folds to confirm, and he is rewarded with enough arousal to forget about his worries.
As much as he wants to ravish you right now, he knows you would probably drift off to sleep if he makes love to you tenderly—so that's precisely what he does. He gently spreads your legs further with his thigh, allowing his cock to rest between your legs. It has almost become a routine for him to set aside your panties and gradually ease his cock inside you- a practice that you often do after he comes home late from his practice sessions.
A breathy moan escapes your lips at the stretch, and he feels his own body tensing at the sensation of your soft walls around him. He continues to push until he's fully inside of you. You always take him so well—it feels breathtaking to be buried deep inside you. He still hopes you'll succumb to sleep in this embrace, even though he's surely wide awake himself.
"Feels good," you hum, your breathing gradually returning to a steady rhythm. He pulls you closer, inhaling the soothing flowery scent of your hair- a scent that always brings him comfort and calms his mind when he can't seem to rest. You might not fully grasp how much he loves you—how every fiber of his being yearns for you, how he wishes for you to be happy and to be his. This is precisely why he plans to propose to you tomorrow and to place the ring back on your finger. You wouldn't refuse him on his birthday, would you?
"Sleep well, my love."
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lucky-clover-gazette · 7 months
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i honestly love the fact that i have just been following two people very invested in dnf for like a year, either bc of a misclick or other mutual fandom, because i have so little knowledge about what is and is not real with those two. i have never played or watched a mindcraft in my life, however i can acknowledge insane homoeroticism when i see it, and those two are either ridiculously committed to a bit or ridiculously committed to each other, and to the like fifteen people who still seem to care post-face reveal (which i always thought was awful by the way, like people were dicks about it) it doesn’t really matter
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raycatzdraws · 6 months
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I'm back at it with my Outer Wilds inspired LU fic/comic/idea/thing!
The following comic contains MAJOR spoilers for Outer Wilds: Echoes Of The Eye.
Progression in Outer Wilds is directly tied to the player's knowledge. There are no key items or skill progression, just what you learn through playing. For this reason, anything you encounter about the game can potentially ruin reveals and puzzles. Outer Wilds is the best game I've ever played. I highly recommend playing it for yourself (or watching a stream) and then you can come back and enjoy this with me. :)
Warning over! (If you've played OW:EOTE we are sharing music around a campfire and roasting marshmallows ::) )
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Fish jump scare for Legend.
OW:EOTC Spoilers! I've put my thoughts explaining the comic a ways down. PLEASE if you haven't played the game I'd rather you skip the comic and my thoughts entirely than be spoiled!!! It's so important!!!
For people who have played it though,
What if the Prisoner sustained the simulation? I think Legend would have his suspicions about the dream world. Like, 'sure Sky maybe this is a Silent Realm but I think there's something more to this we're missing...' And to then have those suspicions confirmed and have to go through a Koholint situation again this time knowing that there are real people in the dream. It's all going to collapse anyways. The Wind Fish needs to be saved. But still, how would he respond to that?
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wylanslcve · 8 months
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Okay don't mind me I'm in the middle of a Crooked Kingdom reread and feel overwhelmingly inclined to rant about Jesper Fahey because this fandom just doesn't give him the treatment he deserves. I'm specifically going to incoherently ramble about the scene in Crooked Kingdom where he, Colm and Wylan are being shot at because I feel like that scene is representative of Jesper's arc - but, before we dive into that, let me contextualise a few things first. Jesper does things for the thrill of it: he thrives off chaos and spontaneity, hence why he "always felt better when people were shooting at him". It's because the sound of gunfire "called the scattered, irascible, permanently seeking part of his mind into focus like nothing else" - and it also provides a distraction from his pain and trauma, because whenever he'd think about it, "everything in him recoiled. Trying not to die was the best possible distraction". Whenever anything to do with his past or his debt is brought up, "his hands returned to his revolvers" because he found himself "longing for the cool, familiar feel of their pearl handles beneath his thumbs". It steadies him as much as it possibly can when he's not in a dangerous situation, momentarily calling his mind into focus, an attempt at distracting himself from his afflictions.
Based off similar instances, the scene in Crooked Kingdom where he, Wylan and Colm are being shot at should have brought him that same satisfaction that any other shooting would. He "should be buzzing from the excitement of the fight. The thrill was still there, fizzing through his blood, but beside it was a cold, unfamiliar sensation that felt like it was draining the joy from him." What makes this situation so different to the others is that he can't ignore his problems and trauma now: it's staring him right in the face. Colm is right there. The thrill of the fight doesn't feel the same because "all he could think was, Da could have been hurt. He could have died." And we know that Jesper's debt would cost Colm the jurda farm Jesper grew up on, forcing him to acknowledge the reality of his problems: with Colm being right there, Jesper just can't ignore his afflictions because all he could think about is how his father would "suffer for his antics". If you ask me, this is so representative of his character arc as a whole.
This is further emphasised by how he's reflecting on the first time he spun Makker's Wheel right before this ambush, its intention being merely "harmless fun", but it ended up evolving into an addiction that "split [his life] like a log into two distinct and uneven pieces: the time before he’d stepped up to that wheel and every day since". The rush of a high-stakes situation is the equivalent of the "harmless fun" - it's a thrill that Jesper enjoys feeling, but in reality it's doing much more harm because it's preventing him from acknowledging and facing his pain. And he's indeed in so much pain: there's so much anguish inside of him, but he'd do anything to distract himself from it because the reality is just too painful.
This is where the tables come in: later in Crooked Kingdom, when the crew are being ambushed by the Khergud, Jesper "could feel the pull of East Stave" because he didn't have anything else to occupy his mind with. Then, the minute he thinks about facing his father, "the need to be at the tables was overwhelming" because he desperately needs to distract himself from the reality of his circumstances: "since Kaz hadn't obliged him with something to shoot at, Jesper needed a pair of dice and long odds to clear his mind". He can't use the ambush as a distraction, so the tables it is. As Inej tells him, "they feel like medicine. They soothe you, put you right for a time. But they’re poison, Jesper. Every time you play, you take another sip." This isn't the first time poison has been used to represent something that is preventing the Crows from healing - we also see it with Matthias, when he tells Brum in Six of Crows, "the life you live, the hate you feel - it's poison. I can drink it no longer". Just like how the exploitation of Matthias' grief and pain as a means of fueling hatred prevented him from healing because it kept exacerbating the anguish within him (he had to stop drinking the poison to do so), Jesper's addiction - and, by extension, the thrill of a high-stakes situation - prevents him from acknowledging the wound inside him and working towards healing it. It gets to the extent where “he had always thought of himself as lucky… what if he’d been bluffing this whole time?” - he’s gotten so used to suppressing his pain that he, in a way, loses sense of who he is. His façade has distorted his perception of himself. It's not until Colm arrives in the Barrel that Jesper is forced to acknowledge just how deep that wound is and how much it's festering - just like how he couldn't even feel the thrill of a fight properly because of the possibility of his father getting hurt.
That scene is one of many cracks that start to form as Jesper continues to bottle up all of this pain and trauma, until he finally breaks when Wylan proposes that he's such a good shot because being a Fabrikator allows him to direct the metal of the bullets. Jesper protests, asking Wylan why he can't "just let things be easy" - why can't he just let him keep ignoring his problems, when it's so much easier than facing them? But Wylan stands his ground, explaining that "they’re not easy... You keep pretending everything is okay. You move on to the next fight or the next party. What are you afraid is going to happen if you stop?" This is why Matthias calls Jesper “angry and frightened” - he’s afraid of stopping, because he knows stopping means that he’s forced to face the reality that he’s deeply wounded. This is when he finally breaks under the burden of his own pain, under the reality that he can't keep ignoring it anymore - hence why he chooses to put his share of the reward in Colm's name because, as he explains to Kaz, "I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of money just yet". For the first time, he's acknowledging his problems and working towards fixing them, no matter how much time it takes (because trauma and addiction don't just disappear overnight).
n e ways this ended up being significantly longer than anticipated but this is what happens when I start analysing these books: it snowballs out of control and suddenly I can’t shut up.
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serenescribe · 7 months
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Day 5 of ficlet requests~
Do you like time travel shenanigans? I hope you do because uh oh! General Vanrouge is in the present!
What’s that? His friends child is here, at NRC? Weird. Baul has a HALF HUMAN GRANDCHILD? Weirder. There’s himself with a *human* who he’s speaking to so casually and kindly? UNACCEPTABLEEEEE
[✐] ficlet frenzy
As of a week ago, all NRC students have been barred from entering the woods behind campus. All except a select few, at least — namely a select number of students from Diasomnia, of which the group includes its housewarden, vice-housewarden, and a few others.
The reason for this? Well, it was astoundingly obvious to anyone with eyes to see and ears to hear with. A week ago, there had been quite the explosive commotion, a spell gone horribly wrong. And what had entailed but utter chaos, and the sight of a much-younger Lilia Vanrouge rampaging around campus grounds?
Any attempts to quell the man’s panic and rage fell utterly flat, his scathing words striking fear into the hearts of countless students — from the meek and introverted of Ignihyde, venturing out to survey the commotion, to the bold and brash of Savanaclaw, who’d actively picked a fight with what they perceived as an easy target.
That, in the words of the older Lilia Vanrouge, his ancient age now revealed to the students around him, was “a horrible, senseless idea.”
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“Are you sure you’d like me to accompany you today, Father?” Silver cannot help but voice his concerns as he trails after Lilia, the two of them winding through campus grounds, making a beeline for the throng of woodland behind the school.
“Why do you say that, hm?”
His brows knit together. “It’s just… the General—” as he’d learnt to call him, a way to differentiate the two, “—does not seem fond of me in the slightest. Would it not be more prudent for Lord Malleus to follow, given how he is the only one he can tolerate?”
At that, his father merely laughs. “Well he’s going to have to get used to you someday, dear!”
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There’s a fire going in the woods, contained by a thick circle of magic, constantly crackling and never growing nor dissipating. The figure seated near it glances up as the two of them approach, and Silver feels his throat dry at the sight of those cold eyes, the same crimson of his father yet lacking the warmth that has been there throughout all of Silver’s life. Not for the first time, he wonders what must have gone on in the past to warrant such callous coolness from his father’s younger self. To a similar extent, Silver wonders what must have occurred to mellow him out into the man he is today; together, they are like night and day.
“Good day, little me!” Lilia greets, beaming cheerily even as his younger self’s lips curl into a frown. Dumping the basket that has been swaying from his arm onto the ground, Silver’s father rests his hands on his hips, merry as ever as the General eyes the basket warily. “It’s merely a peace offering,” he explains, when still regarded with suspicion. Lilia arches an eyebrow. “Do I truly look like the kind of person to poison my younger self?”
“If you feel anything like I do towards you, you would.”
Silver grimaces, but Lilia only laughs. “Oh, you! I do forget how serious I acted back then…” Still, he gestures at the basket, at the cloth covering it. “Why not take a gander, hm? I guarantee you that you’re certain to enjoy what I’ve brought.”
Different as the General may be — cold and dismissive towards Silver, outright startled and disbelieving towards Sebek’s entire existence, constantly annoyed and frustrated by his older self, and only ever satiated by being around Malleus — there certainly are some things that remain the same. Silver recognises this well when the General slowly pulls off the cloth covering to reveal, to Silver’s utter horror, a heaping pile of rodents and lizards.
“See?” Lilia preens, smug and satisfied at the sight of his gobsmacked younger self. “I told you you’d enjoy it!”
Abruptly, Silver turns to shuffle away, to escape from this forested clearing where the General has made his home before he can get roped into this.
If there was anything else he wishes changed over hundreds of years… it would definitely have to be his father’s… acquired taste in what he considers food.
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waitineedaname · 1 year
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I really love how much mp100 stands out against other shows of its genre with its finale. there isn't some final boss, there's no grand fight between good and evil. it is, like the show has always been, about emotions and self acceptance. the finale barely involves fight scenes in the traditional sense, like I wouldn't call the encounters with teru and ritsu fight scenes since neither of them intend to hurt him, and even the fight with the suzukis ends not with someone being defeated but rather with an emotional break through. the final conflict is resolved not with violence and defeat. it's resolved with honesty and compassion and self-love. I can't get over how deeply kind this series is
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luminitewrites · 1 year
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Nova
Rating: T Word Count: ~5,700 Warnings: Brief memories of/current trauma from being swallowed alive, brief contemplation of death and what lies beyond
So after seeing the absolutely stunning art that @themeeplord posted of Naff's leviathan!Eclipse and fisher!Y/N, there's no way I could pass up writing a small something for it. I might have made Eclipse a tad bigger in this drabble purely for size difference purposes, but Meep's depiction of them is the inspiration for this piece. (I hope you don't mind the tag, Meep! ;w;) This drabble is based off of @naffeclipse's In Deep Dreams Between the Waves (so very highly recommend!!) and set sometime after it, so there will be allusions to spoilers herein.
Enjoy!
~~~
The siren call of the ocean lulls your boat as much as it does you. Out here in the vast expanse of endless water where sea merges with ocean, the gentle stirring of the morning sun has yet to reach full wakefulness, casting the sky in a beautiful watercolor of lush indigos and mellow purples. The breeze caressing your face tells you it will be a hot day, but for now, it’s a welcomed brush against your skin.
You’ve opted for a less-bundled-up attire since you know what and who awaits you shortly. The loose t-shirt flutters at your back, and your light shorts and bare feet bask in the open, salty air. Curling your toes in excitement, you cannot help the enchanted smile that has yet to leave your face. You’ve been looking forward to today as the rough weather in recent weeks has kept you from seeing your friend. Well, it probably wouldn’t have completely kept you at bay were it not for said friend being very insistent about you staying home to wait out the hurricane. Something about being safe and warm and taking care of your health. Complete bogus, if anyone were to ask you.
But, of course, Eclipse always has other ideas about what’s best for you, and after much bartering in your dreams and getting nowhere, you’d caved to his utterly ridiculous demands. The oversized mer has a habit of being just as obstinate as you. You’d once thought you could outmatch his stubbornness, but turns out, it’s hard to say no when his big eyes turn soft and pleading, like you’re breaking his heart by even considering stepping foot outside during a nasty storm. Never mind that it’d been because you’d wanted to see him. He’d been adamant that the visits in your dreams could sate your loneliness in the meantime.
Needless to say, you’ve been chomping at the bit to get out. The hurricane had been circling your little island like a harrowing shadow for over a week, but it finally began tapering off yesterday, and by nightfall, Eclipse gave you his reluctant approval to come out the following day.
He probably didn’t mean that as an excuse for you to sacrifice sleep and slip out before the break of dawn, but he almost certainly knew that without you needing to say anything suggestive of it last night. The memory of his narrowed gaze and disapproving pout still makes you chuckle even now, and you can only imagine that same expression on his face when he sees you out here.
You’ve already dropped anchor and settled at the edge of your boat with your legs dangling over it and your arms propped atop the railing. The breeze ruffles your hair as it pleases, and it tickles your ears while you hum to yourself a gentle tune. It’s a unique one that transcends time and the waves themselves, flowing from within your chest and playing a soothing chord that first tugs softly and then a little firmer.
When your voice starts to rouse and the first few notes whisper past your lips, an answering echo from far, far below sounds beneath your feet and travels across the ocean floor.
Instantaneous is the grin tugging at your cheeks, and you beam at the way the wind suddenly billows in a different direction and sends your trusty flag flapping like a resounding applause. Your Rustbucket II bobs up and down as the water begins to turn choppy, creating a thrill of a ride as you eagerly peer down into the inky blue.
As bubbles form below, you dismiss what most sailors would consider an omen and instead lean over the railing as much as you can while sitting. Your legs swish happily, your skin prickling when a shiver courses through you. To your surprise, however, the bubbles stop after a few suspenseful seconds. A flash of a large shadow is all you catch sight of, but your friend doesn’t surface as you’d expected. Confused, you wait a moment more and then pull your legs under you and stand up so that you can lean over the railing as far as you can without falling in.
“Eclipse?” you call out. Your head tilts to the side while you listen.
Nothing but ocean responds.
A frown replaces your smile, and you wonder if something has temporarily distracted the mer, and he’s swimming off to go chase a giant squid or something similar. Before you can settle back down and wait for him to return, a colossal burst thunders behind you without warning and rocks your boat. Gasping, you have all but a moment to spin on your heel as Eclipse breaches in a swift motion that sends a terrific cascade of water directly down onto your boat and consequently you.
In mere seconds, you are entirely drenched in seawater and sputtering.
Soaked hair draped over and blinding you, you sigh loudly and brush it out of your face. Far, far above, your friend gazes down with a textbook version of glee. As soon as he sees your expression, a harmonious warble not unlike a laugh rumbles from his chest.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” you say in faux exasperation while wringing the water out of your hair. “Not like you haven’t done this before.”
The mer lowers in the water until his head is level with you, ray-like frills flicking, and your bond tells you exactly what he’s thinking, as if he were saying the words aloud.
And yet, you still fall for it every time.
You roll your eyes, and Eclipse chitters his delight.
“I guess it’s not like I wasn’t going to get wet anyways,” you huff in defeat.
Deciding it’s a lost cause to drain the water from your dripping clothes, you trudge over to him instead, making sure to step carefully through the large puddles. Yellow overlaid by impenetrable black oversees your maneuvering to be certain you reach the other side safely. Once you’re within reach, Eclipse leans in a little more, allowing you to rest your small hand against his large head and press a kiss between his eyes despite the little trick he pulled on you.
You watch the sharp yellow disappear as he basks in your affection and croons an unmistakably happy song. It’s enough to warrant the return of your smile.
“Good morning, big guy,” you say against his wet scales. “Missed you.”
The sentiment is returned tenfold through your bond, staggering in its sincerity, and Eclipse’s love threatens to reduce you to a puddle. The companionship with the leviathan has altered you in ways you could have never dreamed of, making you forever grateful for the day you discovered and helped him when he was but a little fish. You wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world because a life without Eclipse is one you can’t fathom. He means everything to you.
As your thoughts shift, Eclipse hears them just as if you’d spoken, and a low sound purrs from his throat. He nuzzles you with utmost gentleness, and you press as close to him as you can.
Yeah, you missed this. Shared dreams are one thing, but having him here with you in the flesh is incomparable. It’s your lifeblood.
When you pull back, the leviathan peers at you again. His expression is so compassionate that it sets your heart soaring like you are a fish in the sea swimming alongside him. The excursions you’ve had with him in the deep blue aren’t too far from that feeling, and it’s set in the very plans you have for later today. You intend to spend as much time as you can with the mer, and that means taking a hearty swim with his current guiding you along.
However, whatever soft moment you’re sharing now is wholly ruined when Eclipse chooses then to open his mouth and drag his serpentine tongue all the way up your front.
You yelp at the unexpected lick, and very swiftly, you are drenched in more than just water.
“Eclipse!” you cry in dismay.
Orange and red frills flutter in contentment. There is no remorse on the other’s face.
“Now I’m covered in gross saliva!” you further protest to express just how disgruntled you are. You shake your hands, and two wet globs fling off.
Eclipse churrs and clicks unhelpfully. It’s a bit similar to the squeaks of a dolphin, and after a fruitless attempt to wipe your face as best as you can, you glower up at your talkative friend. 
He seems to be cycling through a whole host of expressions today because the one staring you down is now unquestionably smug. 
You snort at the little—large—devil.
“Just what was that for anyways?”
The mer considers for a moment and then tilts his head to the side a little, eyelids falling low like he’s miming sleep. Then, a massive hand lifts out of the water to gently poke a long claw at you, followed by a throaty grumble that shakes your boat.
Ah. So that’s what this is about, huh. Should’ve known skipping out on sleep would come back to bite, or rather, lick you. You can’t say you didn’t see this coming. 
“I promise I got enough sleep all through that nasty hurricane,” you counter adamantly. Eclipse looks far from convinced, so you continue on. “Even still, I have a cabin I can always dip inside for a quick nap if need be. Or you can float on your back and snooze with me on top like we usually do. We have the whole day to ourselves, big guy. And besides, I thought you missed me.”
Eclipse releases another series of noises at that, which are just plain mournful, and the flood of insistent reassurance and concern makes you huff and smile.
“I know, I know. I’m just teasing. I think I’m allowed to since I’m currently covered in…” You sniff and then grimace. “Overwhelming fish breath and questionable fluids.”
More snaps and clicks, but none of them are truly offended. Eclipse matches your fake glare easily, and when you playfully stick out your tongue, his mouth curls with a croon, and he slithers his own tongue back out again.
You hastily retreat, hands lifting.
“Woah, there! Okay, message received. Put that thing back where it came from, or so help me, I’ll turn this boat around.”
Your friend blows out a warm gust of air that just heightens the sticky feeling all over your body, and your arms drop as the mer retracts his appendage with rampant amusement. Clearly, your threat was too transparent to be taken with any modicum of seriousness. Not that you expected Eclipse to believe it for a second anyways. He knows just how much you’ve been aching to see him, and even without the words to verbalize it, he’s showing how much he’s missed you too. You haven’t missed the little display of the fins and frills around his head upon his arrival. They’ve been fluttering since you first spoke, a subtle indicator of your friend’s elated state.
Maybe it’s in a sign of good faith or repentance, but Eclipse gingerly rests a large hand palm-up on your boat right next to you. An offer. You consider the translucent webbing between the smooth surface of his digits like it houses a tremendously difficult question you don’t already know the answer to. A few moments you spend hemming and hawing in exaggeration, and to his credit, Eclipse waits patiently—hopefully—for you to hop on, the ocean churning noticeably from the swishing of his powerful tail.
You give a plaintive sigh.
“I suppose I can acquiesce this one request,” you say, snickering at the uncontrollable, excited thumping against the side of your boat from Eclipse’s fins.
He eagerly curls and uncurls his fingers as you step around the sprawled drape of the scarlet frills that adorn his wrist, planting your hands first on his palm and then crawling across until you’re seated in the middle. You’ve learned from experience that it’s best to remain off your feet when being lifted if you want to retain your balance. Eclipse will never let you fall and would almost certainly help you to remain standing if you wobbled, but sitting down for the little ride grants you a bit more stability. 
With the utmost care, the mer hoists you out of your boat and over to him. He nuzzles you once more with a soft coo, and then he lowers into the water until only his head and the hand you rest upon aren’t submerged.
You smile up at him.
“Thanks, big guy, but I’m already wet, so I might as well wash this off.”
Eclipse churrs and sinks a little deeper so that the water just laps over his palm. You pat him in appreciation, and he curiously watches as you begin to cup the ocean in your hands and rinse your face and then scrub at your body.
It doesn’t take long to get to a somewhat reasonably clean state again, though you doubt anything in Eclipse’s saliva would be truly harmful to you. The pungent smell, however, might be downright criminal, and that’s saying something because you’ve been around fish for years. But at the end of the day, it’s worth it because it’s still part of your friend, and you wouldn’t change anything about him.
Once the sticky substance has washed away, you lean back on your hands, and Eclipse’s large fingers press protectively at your back. His contentment is visible in the shine of glowing yellow and the peaceful glaze of his languid movements. He floats in place next to your boat with the waves barely disturbing him. The magnitude of his size strikes you yet again despite how much time you’ve spent at his side all these years. Maybe the separation brought on by the storm afflicted your memory of his stature, but you don’t mind the awe that fills you at the leviathan or how small you suddenly feel in his grasp.
You’ve never been safer in the claws of a mer, and that will never fail to warm your heart.
Eclipse trills at the emotions shared through your bond, and with a melted expression, he draws you closer. You are gently deposited atop his chest, and once you’re sure of your footing, you approach his beaming maw. The mer meets you halfway, and when your arms embrace him as much as they can, he releases a slow breath that chases away any chill from the water.
Together, you stay like that in the quiet stillness of dawn, the first cracks of light just kissing the horizon. The world is waking up once more, and you have been given the best greeting of all. After days of restlessness and anxiety and longing, your mind is finally at ease. It’s a serenity that touches your soul, mirroring the same peace from your friend.
Sometimes, a shadow of a terrible memory graces your consciousness, and phantoms of ghastly yellow and purple snap at you. Those awful, living nightmares have grown less obtrusive as the months have passed, fading ever steadily with the more time you spend on the waves with Eclipse. You know you are safe now. There are some things that take more than reassurance to overcome, however, set off by triggers that you’re still learning to pinpoint, but with time and exposure to the sea that is a second home to you, the initial flinching and brief bursts of fright will diminish.
Eclipse’s presence has been grounding all the while. He’s stuck with you through every crest and trough, understanding your inner turmoil better than any explanation you could try to come up with. He’s felt your fear and pain and determined that it’s now his to bear as well if it means it will bring you comfort and recovery sooner. The memories are no less horrible for him too, and you occasionally catch a glimpse of his remembrance of prying apart serrated jaws and reaching for your frantic form.
It’s a shared burden between the two of you. You will see it through together.
 A shiver that can’t be blamed on the breeze travels through your body.
Sensing the direction of your thoughts, Eclipse curls his webbed hand even more so around your comparatively smaller frame, like he’s letting you know that he won’t ever let anything take you away from him again. A quiet purr vibrates from his chest, and he nudges you with his cheek until you look up at him again. His scales are creased with worry, but you pet one of his claws to reassure him.
“I’m alright, big guy. I’ve got you here, don’t I?”
Better words couldn’t have been chosen as your leviathan chitters in agreement. The sound soothes the worries of your mind, chased by the fearsome predator who has become your protector. You enjoy the intimate moment with him and the heart-skipping way he stares at you leaning into his grasp.
But that’s all abruptly broken by a thunderous growl that shakes through your feet.
In an instant, Eclipse looks mightily embarrassed, and you flash a grin.
“Someone’s hungry,” you tease, tapping your foot to indicate the petulant thrum that had come from his stomach further down.
The mer shakes water off his frills like a dog, sniffing the air and frowning before his pupils constrict, and his head snaps downward and off to the side at the water. It would seem he’s already locked on to a potential prey. You wonder if he’s about to tear off in the direction of said prey, but Eclipse tips his head back over at you, frills twitching with anticipation. He then taps the tip of a finger at your stomach in question.
You do your best to keep your smile from twisting.
“Not quite a fan of eating raw fish, thanks. This one’s all you, buddy.”
Eclipse emits a distinct whine at your refusal, rays drooping.
“I’ll eat later, promise. It’s still early for breakfast anyways. But I guess I could always just take a chomp out of you if you want me to eat fish so bad, huh?”
Three rapid clacks of sharp teeth are your answer, Eclipse pretending to snap them at you instead like maybe he’ll take a nibble out of you, and you giggle at the fake threat. He squints at you, supposedly very intimidating, you’re sure. His fins flap against the surface of his water much like his tail, and the loud whoosh of air from his gills sounds like a heavy sigh.
“Adorable,” you remark, and Eclipse puffs, his ray-like frills expanding like an orange peacock. “Yes, yes, you’re very big and scary. Now go catch your breakfast, you oversized guppy.”
An aggrieved grumble from the mer shakes through your body, and Eclipse sinks into the deep, pausing long enough to make sure you’re treading water easily enough on your own once you’re submerged.
You give him a little wave, legs swishing beneath you, and a flash of warmth stirs in your chest in response from him.
The giant mer disappears from sight rather quickly, likely sensing the direction his prey has swam off to. He won’t be gone long. You’re confident in his hunting abilities, and the only times it takes awhile are when he’s feeling playful and turning it into a game.
Without the support of your friend to keep you afloat, you paddle over to your boat to conserve your energy. A quick climb up your ladder, and you’re aboard once more and perusing the still water-logged floor with a shake of your head. Your mild disapproval is countered by a sense of indignation within your core from the mer far below.
Not my fault.
Even when he’s focused on hunting, he’s always got to get his two cents in. You snort and step across the slick surface into your cabin. 
While food isn’t exactly on your mind right now, you do find something special in sharing a meal together, so you decide to rummage through your kitchenette for a small snack. There are some granola bars you’ve stashed in a cabinet exactly for this reason, so after snagging one, tearing off the wrapper, and disposing the trash in the bin so you won’t have to worry about it later, you shuffle back outside.
The sun is still in its infancy, but the thin streams of light are already casting a new layer of warmth. The streaks of burnt orange remind you of your beloved mer, rippling across the darkly painted sky. Minutes trickle by with nothing but nature for miles, allowing your thoughts to meander. As you take in its beauty, you’re reminded of its resilience and how it will continue to exist long after you’ve passed. The sun will continue to rise and set; the waves will continue to crash and roll and traverse the world. It makes you wonder, head tipping up to admire the stars, what it will be like one day when your and Eclipse’s time comes to an end. There is assurance in that you will go together, bound so intrinsically as mer and human. Such an occurrence is far down in the future, barely conceivable when you have so much life left to live with Eclipse, but as you stand under the starlight’s ever watchful gaze, you muse quietly.
Will you trade a life on the water for an eternity in the stars? Will the galaxies become your new waves, the constellations your new islands? What will it be like to explore the great expanse that rivals even your tremendous ocean?
Your vision shuts to the ethereal light, and you feel the answer in your soul that returns from the leviathan himself.
Harmony. It will be harmony, entwined with you and him forever singing that sweet song that ties you in scarlet thread.
Smile warmer than the sleepy sun, you’re not at all surprised when you hear a splash and open your eyes to see your close friend next to your boat again, waiting patiently for you to emerge from being lost in thought. His tender love is palpable, resonating from deep within your chest and guiding you over to him. As you near, you notice the edge of a tail fin poking out of his maw, and a snicker escapes you.
“Breakfast was successful, I take it?”
Eclipse hums and then in a perfectly unnecessary act opens his mouth to show you just how big of a catch he got. His rows of teeth have expertly speared the swordfish, and while impressive, you know why he’s showing off.
You hold up a hand dismissively.
“Yeah, still not happening.” You wave your granola bar under Eclipse’s dissatisfied scrutiny when he seals his maw shut in suspicion. “I found something else to munch on instead. Extra nutritious. You want some?”
Eclipse hisses like you personally offended him, and you bite back a laugh as you break off a piece of your snack and toss it in your mouth. Last time you tried to feed him some of your “nasty human food,” he wheezed and spat out the microscopic morsel and then proceeded to drag his claws against his tongue like you’d terrorized his tastebuds. He’s so goofily dramatic when it comes to most of your meals and snacks that don’t involve seafood, and he plays it up extra just for you because you adore his theatrics. You know as much because you’d asked him once why he’d reacted that way, and he’d answered with a photographic memory of your face flushed from laughter and your arms clutching your stomach from a time not too long prior.
Needless to say, your cheeks had immediately turned hot yet again, that time for a different reason, and you’d tried and failed to brush off Eclipse’s endeared cooing at your fluster.
He’s such a rascal. Wily prankster of a mer. You more than cherish him.
Taking another bite of your snack, you lean against the railing while Eclipse begins to chew on his meal. You know that one fish won’t be enough to feed a mer his size, but it’ll at least be enough to stave off his hunger for a little bit. The warmth in your core tells you Eclipse isn’t eager to leave your side for longer than necessary. He’s just as intent on companionship as you are.
Swallowing the mouthful of granola, you say, “I brought my pan flute with me again. Maybe we can give your song another shot later today?”
A tremendous purr rumbles across the waves. At the same time, the contentment behind your sternum spikes, and you sigh happily.
“I think I’ve got the first part down,” you add. “It’s what follows after that I’m struggling with, so it’s a good thing I’ve got such a talented conductor to help me.”
Eclipse’s delight transforms to a small grumble with an undertone of disapproval. His tail whacks the water behind him, and the giant mer gives you a disbelieving, reprimanding look.
Talented yourself.
Not expecting that, you smile sheepishly and chuckle a little.
“Thanks. I don’t mean to make it sound like I’m downplaying my abilities. Although your song isn’t exactly made for human lungs, you know.”
Dark pupils roll.
Siren song, comes the dry rebuttal. Natural. Weak human lungs.
You blow a raspberry.
“I’ll have you know I’ve got rather strong lungs for a human! And I can hold air for a long while too, which is why I’m even able to keep up with those drawn-out notes of yours.”
By this point, Eclipse has finished swallowing the fish he caught, and the bumpy texture of his burgundy tongue flicks dangerously across his teeth. The air charges with his intrigued hum, and you can sense your mistake the second you catch the mischief in his stare. Orange and crimson fins flutter, and a colossal maw nears until it hovers inches in front of you.
You’re already taking a cautious step back when the thought flashes in your head, one that is not your own.
Let’s test it then, the susurrous taunt curls around your mind, snaking like a low voice against the shell of your ear, and the blur of an arm is too fast for you to dodge.
“Eclipse!” you shriek with a laugh as the leviathan gently but gleefully snatches you up from your boat and brings you back into the water.
Your meager granola bar is lost to the waves and fish, but it barely catches your notice as the smug mer yet again deposits you on his chest, sinking onto his back with almost-feline elegance. The frills surrounding his face fan out like a blood-orange sunflower as they float in the water. Eclipse’s lower arms begin to lightly pedal across the waves, circling but not straying you and him too far from your boat. With his other hands, he keeps them cupped around you, preventing you from slipping off or getting away.
You know what he wants, can read his intent in the quiver of anticipation rebounding from your core that sings with the desire to dive. But the large mer is waiting for your approval first, not wanting to take you under without checking in regardless of his former tease. The considerate patience chases away the tepid air and flushes your heart with something even hotter.
Your smile is small and appreciative.
“Of course, I don’t mind taking a swim with you. I’ve gotta prove my little human lungs can outlast yours, right?” You pat against his chest. “Show me what you’ve got, big guy.”
Sharp teeth glisten wetly, Eclipse giving a hearty chortle at your challenge. His translucent fins catch the sunlight just as it skips across the indigo waves and reaches you, creating speckles of white gold atop every crest. Eclipse waits for you to take a few deep breaths in preparation, your lungs filling with air until you give him a nod. With a sweet smile, the mer begins to tip backward, sinking headfirst underwater with his hand cupping you all the while as you take the plunge together.
The water is bitterly cold the moment it touches your skin, and you instinctively squeeze your eyes shut at first as the ocean swallows you whole. But you’ve nothing to worry about in the grasp of your friend who keeps you clutched to a warm chest, the beating of his heart strong under your form even with layers of muscle between you and it. The steady thrum is like a lullaby setting your mind at ease, and soon, the flash of nervousness at diving dissipates like it was never there to begin with. 
A soft whisper of your name, wrapped in endless patience, coaxes you with a singular want. You feel a second arm slipping behind you, the first slipping lower, which is followed by a large palm spreading at your back and prickling at the strands of your floating hair, covering your entire frame with its size. In careful slowness, you dare to peek through just a crack despite the salty sting of the ocean. You want to see, just for a moment, and the second you do, you are so delighted you took the risk.
The brightness of the sun does not yet penetrate the surface of the deep, but it casts enough light to turn the ocean into an underwater paradise basked in violet hues.
Upside down, you and Eclipse float in the beautiful display of color that transitions from light to dark, the expanse above your head an incredibly rich sapphire. With every swish of his tail and flap of his frills, Eclipse creates a plume of bubbles that catch the thin light in this flipped world. Your legs curl tightly around his slick frame as much as possible, and a bountiful rumble erupts from your friend. He embraces you until there is no room left to spare, and your arms do their best to wrap around him as much as possible.
Golden eyes shine like pure light in the dim purple glow that is incrementally turning lavender while the sun climbs. Eclipse purrs greatly so that you can hear it even underwater. His heart pounds next to yours, a duet not unlike the song that the mer has sung for you since life was still so new to you and him. Age has not withered the exceptionality of it, but it has made you yearn for it all the more. You doubt you will ever stop longing to be close to Eclipse, and you can feel in your chest that he is much the same for you.
Suspended in place in the arms of your closest friend, you find breathing becomes meaningless. The separation that had kept you trapped on your small island and away from him is no more. Finally, you are together again, reunited under a fading starlit sky and within the pleasant rocking of a calm ocean. Home, at last. 
Once your lungs begin to ache, your eyes slip shut, and your smile grows when Eclipse presses his to yours. You happily nuzzle him right back, content to just hold each other like this in the morning quiet where nothing and no one disturbs you. The graze of his frills tickles your cheeks while he keeps you close. You stroke the ones you can reach at the sides of his head, and your movement is mirrored by the light carding of a claw through your hair and along the base of your scalp. The intimacy of it threatens to bring tears behind your eyelids, but any and all drops are carried away by the ocean when your eyelashes flutter with your cautious squint.
Eclipse rubs his scaly cheek against yours for a quick, last nuzzle. Though you’d prefer to remain suspended upside-down like this beneath the waves with him, your friend has your preservation on the front of his mind, and he sweeps his tail in a powerful stroke that rights you and him and brings you back to the suncatcher waves.
A prism of droplets sprays across the surface when you’re brought back up to blessed air that your lungs greedily take back in. After a hasty brush of your hand, you blink away the remnants of saltwater. Your lips twitch.
“I think I definitely outlasted you this time, big guy,” you playfully boast.
Scarlet fins flutter in amusement. Eclipse snorts.
If you say so, sea star.
You hum and tap a finger indecisively, rubbing one of his sharper points against your thumb.
“Well, I might be persuaded otherwise. I guess we won’t know unless we try again, will we?” Your smile flirts on the edge of a grin, but what Eclipse returns with next is enough to stun you.
If that is what you wish. Wherever you want to go, the ghost of an answer dances along your consciousness, I will follow.
His amber gaze is flooded with a softness that makes your heart quicken while you’re choked by nothing related to the air you breathe.
It’s funny, you think, how the universe works. To think that you would find your lifelong partner, someone who fits with you like a puzzle piece, out among the waves. Like you were made for each other, regardless of species or place or form. 
Here in the embrace of your soulmate, you’ve found everything you need. 
Eclipse warbles in surprise when you lean up and press a kiss to his forehead. There, you linger, shutting your gaze to the caress of his silky frills and the salty tang of his home filling your nose. The arms holding you wrap tighter, a third and fourth finding purchase around any part of you that isn’t covered like he can’t touch enough of you.
Your drenched hair runs rivulets down your cheeks, hiding the evidence of your pure happiness that wells inside you and sneaks past wet eyelashes. A faint sound stirs from the leviathan, dipping into a low tune that makes you bury your face in his precious rays and quietly sing along with him his siren call.
You don’t end up ever really responding to his avowal, but you think Eclipse understands you all too well. Locked together like this, you greet the morning as a reunited pair while the memories of a troubled past float away on the seafoam to break on a distant shore.
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leavingautumn13 · 1 year
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I'll bite, would my url inspire? I'm not sure who in Fallout would have a mudkip or swampert, though.
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it sure does inspire. sometimes it's nice to have company on watch.
y'think dinky is a good name for a mudkip, because i kinda do now
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crybaby-bkg · 1 year
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When the tears start to fall, Bakugou is worried at first. His hips slow, the soft sounds emitting from between your thighs dying out, as he rests on his forearms in an attempt to uncover your eyes.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Talk to me, baby,” he pleads with you, doesn’t relent until your blotchy face and tearful eyes are exposed to his worried gaze. What he doesn’t expect, is the wobbly smile that greets him, nor the embarrassed little hiccuped laugh you splutter.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble to him, leaning into his warm palm when he swipes at your face to clear the tear marks. Bakugou doesn’t say anything as you gather yourself, still frowning all the while before you hold his cheeks gently in your hands. He looks at you then, his eyes worried, his brows creased, despite your small grin.
“I just love you so much, you know?” You whisper to him, bringing him close until his nose bumps softly against your own. Bakugou sighs then, his entire body collapsing on top of yours until his chest rubs against your naked one, until you can count every erratic beat of his heart slow.
“So you cry? Had me fuckin’ worried over here, for nothin’,” he grunts, fusses at you, despite the way he noses at the column of your throat and breathes in your scent. You chuckle, running a finger up and down his spine, the other holding his face close into your skin.
“Sorry, just get a little overwhelmed at times. With my love for you.” You mumble quietly into his ear, eyes fluttering when you feel his heart finally calm against your own, his rib cage a gentle thud, the softest rattle, on your sternum. Bakugou sighs once more, his dewy breath tickling your neck, as his lips purse slightly against the salty skin.
“Nerd,” he mutters, wrapping his entirety around and through you, as you lay there and let him. Tears spring to your eyes once more, as you glance over to the breakfast in bed he brought for you, to the handmade card with his shitty handwriting, to the crooked little crotchet stuffed bee he learned how to make for you.
When the tears start again, this time, Bakugou doesn’t panic. Only buries his face further into your skin, his hips shifting a little as he mouthes gently at your neck.
“Love you too.” His words are tender into the cool air of Valentine’s Day morning, but they’re heavy and they’re sweet and they’re so full—you burst at the seam yet again. You both lay there for what feels like forever, quiet, nothing but the dull sound of your nails scratching at his nape and humming into the thickness of his shoulder.
“I love you.”
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straight4joekeery · 1 year
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Eddie: What? I'm not aggressive!
Steve: Last Tuesday, you wacked me with a pair of crocs and stole my chocolate chips?
Eddie: Survival of the fittest, bitch.
~~~~~~~~~
Eddie: That’s the longest worm I’ve ever seen.
Steve: That’s a snake.
~~~~~~~~~
Steve: State your name, rank, and intention.
Eddie: Eddie, Eddie, fun.
~~~~~~~~~~
Eddie: I can’t believe all these people are wearing black. black is supposed to be my thing, they’re all just posers.
Steve: Eddie, for the last time, we’re at a funeral.
~~~~~~~~~~
Eddie: Which is correct, seven and five IS thirteen, or seven and five ARE thirteen?
Steve: Neither.
Steve: Because it's twelve.
~~~~~~~~~~
Eddie: I need you to come meet me, and I need you to come alone.
Steve: And I need you to be less vague and weird.
~~~~~~~~~~
Steve: I have to say, I'm a little embarrassed for you.
Eddie: This is a sports-related injury. It makes me look cool!
Steve: Tripping over a basketball on your way to the bathroom is not cool!
~~~~~~~~~~
Eddie: Hey there Vecna, It's me, ya boi.
Steve: Eddie, NO!
~~~~~~~~~~
Eddie: I was going to suggest we do Marilyn Monroe and JFK roleplay, but I’d get way too into it.
Steve: What- how?
Eddie: You’d be like “come to bed … Mr. President” and I’d be like, “I need to increase the amount of American military advisors in South Vietnam by a factor of 18.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Eddie: Y'know, I once knew a man who said to me: “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” He also had a pair of sideburns that would cause even Jude Law’s face to weep in forfeit. You put those lemons in a sack and beat your enemies with ‘em! And maybe if you beat ‘em hard enough the bag will split open and lemon juice will spray into their eyes, causing intense burning pains as you crush them into a citrus-y pulp!
Steve: Wait, wait, wait, wait. Their heads or the lemons?
Eddie: Whatever caves first!
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good-beanswrites · 3 months
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We interrupt requests for a super fast and silly LCSyS thing inspired by the initial thumbnail reactions
"So anyway, I was thinking that--" Kotoko paused her conversation with Jackalope, the two stepping out of the dressing room. She stared at Mahiru. "... Can I help you?"
Mahiru had been hurrying by, but she stopped dead in Kotoko's path. Her lips rounded in shock.
"Kotoko..."
"Ah, is there something wrong with my outfit? Jackalope, you could have told me if--"
"You're gorgeous!"
Kotoko blinked. "What?"
Mahiru clasped her hands together, voice nearly squealing in excitement.
"All this time I'd been trying to find the right style to help you, but this? This is so. You. You’re absolutely stunning." She made a show of fanning her face. "You'll have everyone tripping over themselves like this!"
Kotoko's face twisted into a scowl, giving a peek of her teeth. "Mappi, it's not meant to be attractive, it's intimidating. I'm the bad guy, remember?"
"Ooooh but that's just it! You're so strong and confident~"
Jackalope had placed a hand over his mouth to hide a laugh; Kotoko knew she'd get no help from him.
"I'm the enemy. I'm supposed to be your enemy."
"Even enemies can be beautiful..."
With a shake of her head Kotoko kept walking. "Okay, okay. Just don't make a big deal about it. It's really not that special."
The pair continued a bit further through the facility before parting ways. Jackalope had to oversee Muu's recording session. Left on her own, she started reviewing lyrics and acting cues.
"Daaaamn, Kotoko!"
Her frown twitched. She glanced at Mikoto over her shoulder. He ran a few steps to catch up with her.
"Looking good!"
Were both he and Mahiru so stupid? "I'm supposed to look ready to beat your ass."
"Oh yeah." He agreed a bit too enthusiastically. "You like you're gonna s--"
"Good-bye Mikoto."
She passed Yuno and Muu hurrying in the opposite direction, late to the sound booth. Kotoko offered a curt nod.
Muu's eyes widened, perfectly round and glued to Kotoko. Yuno let out a whistle, shooting her a thumbs-up.
She tried to stifle a groan.
There was still a bit of time to kill before the team was ready for her. She spotted Fuuta sitting in on the Purge March rehearsal and breathed a sigh of relief. He'd have something cutting to say about the outfit. Maybe some taunt about it being a copycat for Es' uniform. Maybe a quip about how cliché the hair and piercing combo looked. Sure enough, she heard him shouting at the stagehands surrounding Amane as she slipped in beside him.
He took a sip of his drink, turning to greet her. He coughed on it as she sat down.
"Amane seems like she's doing well."
"Yeah." His eyes frantically darted around the room, landing on the floor.
"She's really excelling at this. I'm glad to see her happy."
"Mhm." He swallowed hard.
She looked pointedly at him. He continued looking very pointedly away. His ears were pink.
Kotoko sighed. She rose to her feet. "I'm going to go find Kazui..."
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peridots-pixiwolf · 9 months
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sketches from @mipexch 's whiteboard a couple days ago!!
also feat. a very small reference to @onlineviolence :]
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sajirah · 3 months
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The Prison Chapter One
The Prison
In honor of me being newly unemployed and House of Flame and Shadow dropping in less than 2 weeks I wrote a thing. You can read it here or on AO3. Enjoy.
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-o0o-
Feyre was a murderer.
That was why she was here after all, staring out at the island that was soon to be her prison. She probably deserved it. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t absolutely petrified to be here.
“Any advice?” She asked the marine unlocking her shackles.
He glanced up at her, considering, and then said, “Pretty thing like you? Find the meanest, nastiest fucker on that island and convince him to protect you.”
Feyre didn’t need the soldier to explain how exactly she was expected to ‘convince’ said man. She’d already had plenty of nightmares of exactly that scenario after her sentencing. The worst part was his advice was probably one of her better options.
“Thanks,” she replied quietly. I think.
He didn’t reply, only pulled off her shackles and then took a strong hold of her arm. She didn’t know why he bothered. It’s not like she could hijack this boat and sail it back home all by herself. She didn’t even know how to drive a car, let alone a boat. She supposed she’d never learn now.
The captain stepped in front of her then, weary and clearly wishing he was anywhere else.
The feeling is mutual pal.
“Feyre Archeron, you have been sentenced to life on The Prison. Do you have anything to say before your sentence is carried out?”
The woman in question stared at him blankly. What was even the point? He was going to throw her onto an island of rapists and murderers no matter what she said. She’d already screamed and cried and swore at her trial. What more could she possibly say?
The captain had the gall to look annoyed. As if she were the one ruining his day.
“Right,” He turned to the marine holding her arm. “Toss her and let’s leave this fucking place.”
Toss her?! “Wait, what?!-” But it was already too late and before she could react the marine was hoisting her up and shoving her overboard.
Icy seawater hit her like a ton of bricks. The shock froze her limbs for precious seconds as her mind tried to reorientate itself. Kick! She thought frantically. After a few terrifying moments her body obeyed.
Salt stung her eyes as she broke the surface and sucked in oxygen but she still managed to see the blurry shape of the boat as it passed her and glided off towards the horizon.
“Fuck you!” She shouted after it. It was petty, but who was going to care about her behavior now? Her dead mother? Her absent father? Her sisters she hadn’t seen since she’d been hauled off by the police?
The island loomed large a quarter mile behind her. She supposed it didn’t matter to the courts if their prisoners actually made it onto the island. Just that they’d been dumped within its vicinity so there was no hope of them ever escaping.
How far even was the mainland from here? Thirty miles? Forty? Fifty? It had taken at least a few hours to get here. They’d left at 9 am sharp and if the sun was anything to go by it was barely noon. Not that any of this mattered. She was never going home.
No one escaped The Prison.
For a few indulgent moments Feyre considered letting herself drown. As terrible as it seemed, it certainly had its appeal compared to eking out a miserable existence on an island full of dangerous criminals. After all, they didn’t send just anyone to The Prison. Only the worst of the worst for this place. Murderers. Serial killers. Violent rapists. Enemies of the rich and powerful.
It was dizzying to think she was considered one of them now.
She let the moment of self pity linger and then let it go. Right. She’d never been a quitter. She wasn’t about to start now.
Resigned, she pointed herself towards the island and started swimming.
-o0o-
Feyre arrived upon her new home’s doorstep looking, for all intents and purposes, like a drowned cat.
It had taken her at least an hour to swim to shore, fighting six foot waves and avoiding what she desperately hoped were not sharks. She couldn’t be sure but she swore something had bumped up against her in the water at some point and hadn’t she read somewhere that sharks bumped into their prey before they circled around to take a bite out of them?
Shivering, she glanced down the beach, hoping against hope none of her fellow prisoners had seen her, but almost immediately she spied two men melting out of the tree line.
Well fuck.
Adrenaline flooded her veins and she scrambled to her feet as one of the men crept closer, holding his hands up as if she were a spooked horse. He was older, hair grayed and skin weathered by the sun. Clothes barely more than rags. Was this what awaited her if she managed to survive as long as him? Rotted teeth and preying upon new arrivals like scavengers?
“Easy there doll. We’re not gonna hurt ya…”
Either he thought she was a moron or he was one himself because Feyre knew exactly what that man had planned for her and quite a lot of hurt was involved.
“Bet you’re real hungry after that swim,” the other man said. He was younger than his companion, but in many ways he looked worse off. Starved and mean looking. “We’ve got some food over at our camp. We’ll share it…”
Even if she were desperate enough to take him up on his offer, his hollow cheekbones and bony wrists led her to believe that statement was a load of bullshit.
She waited, muscles coiled and tense as the men drew ever closer. Suddenly the skinny one reached out, attempting to make a grab for her but Feyre was ready for him. She kicked the sand and it arced up and sprayed straight into his eyes. He howled, clutching at his face, and stumbled forward but she was already bolting out of reach and into the forest.
“Wait, come back!” The older man shouted.
“I can’t see!” The other roared. “I’ll fucking kill her!”
But Feyre was already putting as much distance between her and her would-be captors as possible, not knowing which direction she was going except that it was ‘anywhere but here’. She heard the older man crashing in the underbrush just behind her, shouting at her like she were an unruly dog set loose.
She didn’t even realize his shouts had stopped until she was halfway up the hill. She dared a glance over her shoulder and saw nothing but trees and ferns.
Good.
She kept climbing.
-o0o-
It’s getting dark.
That was all Feyre could think as she wandered the woods in search of food and shelter. So far she’d found a tiny stream of questionable quality and a crooked stick. She supposed she could poke someone’s eye out with it if she was very lucky and her attacker were very still but she wasn’t holding out much hope in that department. Unfortunately the other items on her survival list had yet to be discovered.
Though with the way the sun was going down she was starting to worry. The temperature was dropping rapidly and though her clothes had long since dried they weren’t exactly made to keep one warm in near freezing weather. When she’d first realized they intended to send her off to her final destination in only her prison uniform she’d nearly fought them.
“You can’t be serious!” She’d raged at the officers escorting her onto the boat. “How am I supposed to survive without a coat? A knife? A lighter?”
The officers had been silent but their message was loud and clear: You don’t.
They expected her to die out here. They expected them all to die out here. Well clearly they hadn’t met Feyre. If there was one thing she was good at it was survival. And spite.
Especially that last one.
Still, if she didn’t find shelter soon even sheer undiluted spite was going to have trouble keeping her warm.
It took another hour before she found what she was looking for.
In the dying light, she spotted a little burrow under a rocky outcrop. It would be a tight squeeze, but it was better than her current options which were…nothing. It wasn’t exactly the Four Seasons, but it would mostly protect her from the elements and, more importantly, keep her out of sight. The last thing she needed was another of her fellow prisoners happening upon her while she slept.
As she wormed her way into the muddy crevice, she wistfully reminisced upon her bed back home.
To think, just a year ago she had been sitting in an upscale dining hall, celebrating her sister’s marriage. If someone had told her then what her future held she never would’ve believed them.
And still, she couldn’t fully regret the actions that had led her here.
Perhaps if she hadn’t seen the bruises littering Nesta’s arms things would’ve been different, but she had. And once she had seen them she couldn’t unsee them, no matter how many long sleeved dresses and cardigans her sister wore afterwards. Feyre still had the image of purple fingerprints dotting her sister’s wrist branded into the backs of her eyelids. Nesta never said a word about them. No matter how many times Feyre and Elain begged her to. She had been the very picture of the quiet, demure wife.
And Feyre had hated it.
Perhaps it would’ve gone on indefinitely like that, Nesta’s stoic silence and her sisters’ outspoken concern, but then it had happened.
It had been over something innocuous, his breakfast not being done on time, his coffee being too hot, or his newspaper not being laid out on the table the way he liked. Whatever it was, all Feyre remembered was the way her sister had reacted to her husband’s ire, braced and waiting for a blow. She’d seen it in her eyes. The hatred. The fear. The self loathing of having her sisters here to witness her humiliation. And then he’d grabbed her by the chin, fingers pressed deep enough to leave marks and Feyre had seen red.
Perhaps she truly deserved to be here for what had happened next. For the sheer satisfaction she had felt as she’d watched him bleed out around the butter knife in his eye socket. All she had known then was that this man would never touch her sister again.
She had never lost a moment’s sleep after doing what she did. When she had closed her eyes in her cell after her arrest the only thing she had regretted was the looks of horror and disbelief on her sisters’ faces. She hated that her final memories of her family were those.
But she still couldn’t regret it. No amount of wealth was worth broken bones. Nesta may have been willing to live in gilded luxury for the price of her battered body, but that wasn’t a trade Feyre agreed with. Better her sister live a rich widow who hated her. Better she was thrown to the rapists and murderers.
And I’d do it again. Every time. Feyre thought as she curled into the mud and let her exhaustion lull her to sleep.
Elsewhere, in the gathering dark, something stirred. The other prisoners retreated to the shoreline. They knew better than to enter the forest at night.
There you are. A voice whispered into Feyre’s dreams. I’ve been waiting for you.
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absolutelyinlove · 10 months
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hi i’ve been. very busy and internet-less for most of this week but something possessed me and i wrote a mini fic about drunk george + dnf in la 🫶
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