#but as you can see a lot of the rendering on the gold was lost in editing

[crowcryptid-art]

mew meow + crunchy pixelated variant + non edited version that you were never meant to see. Pls click for quality as tumblr destroys everything lol

#ultrakill #my art #tumblr try not to destroy image quality challenge (impossible) #yet another image for the quotes nonsense #i like the colors of the pixel ver better lol #I say never meant to see cause it’s pretty rough #and I knew I was going to edit it so it didn’t need to be perfect #but as you can see a lot of the rendering on the gold was lost in editing #which is why I didn’t bother detailing it much #mainly cause I don’t have the energy to do anything fully rendered at the moment #idk how to draw people I suffer for him..

[bruh-changbin]

sweet tooth

pairing: park jay x waitress!afab reader

genre: smut, minimal fluff (minors dni)

warnings: oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe), public sex, creampie, finger sucking, minimal food play, lots of mentions of food, brief mention of male masturbation, jongseong is kind of a big desperate loser, lmk if i’m missing anything

word count: 6.7k

a/n: writing this killed me idk why it took fucking forever dawg. but hey, i’m finally giving you all an enha fic without a depressing ending!!! here’s a fun drinking game to play while you read this: take a shot every time jay says a variation of ‘uhhh’ (you will die) ALSOOOO this is for my bae’s @k-ingzo @lix-ables thank you guys for hyping me up to write this bc if you didn’t I’m 90% sure I would’ve scrapped it 😻 LOVE YAAAAA

waiting. 

the most painful game one can be subjected to.

seconds stretch into minutes stretch into hours and soon enough the whole concept of time is but a mere social construct that holds no real value. 

surely his coffee’s gone cold by now. 

the view from the window to his right has progressed from one filled with gold, yellow and orange to one filled with blue, black, and indigo. one by one the neon signs of nearby businesses have flickered on to attract the nighttime crowd. 

he tries to ignore the way his heart is sinking in his chest, much like the way he himself is sinking deeper and deeper into the red vinyl cushion of the booth he’s seated in. the overhead speakers have been blaring elvis for the past half hour and he wants to scream and smash a plate on the floor in frustration. if they play hound dog one more time i swear i’m gonna-

jennifer. 20. single. 2.3 km away. her bio read: only swipe right if you like puppies!!!!!

he does like puppies and found her to be quite pretty, so he did as he was instructed. his heart did a small flip in his chest when his phone screen lit up reading ‘it’s a match!’. he got to talking to her and things were going smoothly. well, at least he thought they were. now he’s alone in a booth constantly refreshing their online chat with some sliver of hope that she may still be coming. the same three messages stare back at him:

[5:17 pm] jay : hey! I got here a bit early so i’m just waiting in the car. let me know when you get here and we’ll go in together.

[6:03 pm] jay: it started getting busy so i snagged us a booth, i hope that’s ok… anyways, i’ll see you soon.

[6:49 pm] jay: hello?

whatever, her loss. fuck dating apps.

and fuck jake sim for making him sign up for one.

maybe tinder just isn’t for him. maybe he needs to find love the old fashion way: bumping into someone on the street; locking eyes across a crowded room; both of you reaching for the last bottle of wine at the grocery store and then just insisting that the other takes it. you know, the kind of shit you see in movies.

the only thing is he’s tried the old fashion way for years to no avail, with tinder being his last resort. things like these take time, he tries to remind himself. you can’t rush love, that’s the magic of it!

but now, seated in a booth at an obnoxiously retro themed diner with his head hung low, he has lost all faith in love. he picks up the porcelain mug to his right and downs the dark liquid; cold, just like his heart. 

he should just leave. i mean it’s obvious at this point that he’s been stood up so he should just head home where the teasing and nagging from jake that will bruise his ego even more is iminent. there comes a time in life where one must accept defeat and move on with-

“would you like a top up, sir?”

a sudden interjection from a saccharine voice to his left is what pulls him out of his trance of self pity. woah, hello you. 

it’s been a long time since he’s been rendered speechless, but you do that to him. you, looking like someone who should be on the cover of a magazine as opposed to serving coffee in a diner. a white button down hugs your torso in all the right ways and he’s envious of the red apron that’s tightly wrapped around your waist because that should be him. the blue ballpoint pen tucked behind your ear somehow makes you 10x more attractive and he can feel his throat close up at the sight of you. 

your skin looks smooth and your lips look plump and thank fuck jessica bailed on him because now all he can think about is bending you over this very table and fucking you raw. top up? more like top me, please!

the glint of the gold name tag pinned onto your shirt catches his eye and he reads it: y/n. pretty.

he notices your eyes shifting around anxiously and reality comes crashing down on him. stop drooling over her tits and answer the question you perv. focus!

“i u-uhhh yes, uh yes please that’d be great,” he stutters out embarrassingly, prompting you to bend over and refill his mug with steaming hot coffee from a pot that you hold with a perfectly manicured hand. 

“can i get you anything else while you…” your eyes dart to the empty seat across from where he’s seated, “wait?”

god this is so embarrassing. now the cute waitress thinks he’s a fucking loser who got stood up (that is exactly what happened). could this day get any worse? he was just about to leave, spare himself from more agony when you waltzed into his life and made his brain a complicated, frazzled mess. 

“uhmm no that’s ok,” he’s trying very hard not to trip over the simplest of words, “just the bill would be great.”

you nod, about to turn around and head over to the register when jay speaks up again in an attempt to preserve his image. 

“it was supposed to be a-a work meeting,” he starts while motioning to the still empty spot across from him, “but my uh….. business partner… couldn’t make it, so..”

he’s lying. you know he’s lying. someone waiting for their ‘business partner’ to show up wouldn’t be checking their phone every 1-3 minutes while intermittently wiping their clammy palms on their slacks every time the doorbell jingles and a new customer enters.

but he doesn’t need to know that, so you paint on an understanding smile before heading over to the diner counter, sparing him one final glance over your shoulder.

it’s a sad sight to see; a handsome boy patiently waiting for someone who’s clearly not going to show up. so you bring him a slice of red velvet cake dolled up with cream cheese icing and waive the two cups of coffee that were tacked onto his bill for the evening.

“it’s on the house,” you practically whisper into his ear while placing a comforting hand on his sturdy shoulder.

“oh!” his voice cracks, “t-thank you so much i-” he calls, but you’re already walking away to assist another table.

his hand instinctively reaches to where yours was placed on his shoulder only moments ago. he could sense the warmth radiating from your palm, feel the stray hairs of your bangs tickle his ear, smell the artificial strawberry scent of your lip gloss. 

either someone decided to crank the heat up in the diner or he’s becoming extremely flustered (it’s the second one). he scoffs down the cake you left him with flushed cheeks and tight pants, visions of himself prying your legs open and indulging in something sweeter plaguing his mind. 

with a hefty sigh he throws on his coat before making his way out of the diner and into his car that’s parked right out front. from behind his windshield he watches as you greet a group of other customers before turning his keys in the ignition and peeling out of the parking lot.

he doesn’t even make it home before he’s pulling into an empty parking lot and jerking himself to the thought of you and your work uniform and your glossed lips.

covet. desire. yearn for. crave.

all very real tertiary emotions that park jay would use to describe his current feelings towards you - a server who he spoke to for two minutes max and now can’t seem to move on from.

unsurprisingly, jake teased the fuck out of him for getting stood up in the way that friends do. but he doesn’t know that jay views his failed date as a complete success. 

albeit he is still mildly salty over the fact that he got stood up, all negativity is washed from his brain the moment he pulls into the familiar parking lot in front of the familiar diner and he feels the familiar pitter patter of his heart quickening its pace from behind his ribcage. 

he tried to hold off on returning the literal day after he was just there, he really did, but he simply couldn’t bear it. the urge to see you, to observe you interacting with other patrons to know if you’re nice to everyone or if he got special treatment is too strong to ignore. it’s for science! he assures himself.

the dulcet jingle of the bell as he opens the door to the diner rings in his ears, and he waits to be seated. the hostess that shows him to a booth similar to the one he was in yesterday is pretty, but she’s not you. only then does jay realize that the possibility of you not having been scheduled to work today is very real. this is only worsened by the fact that he decided to come in the late morning today as opposed to the evening like yesterday. stupid, stupid, stupid!!!

while feeling like a complete and utter idiot he decides to get to work, whipping out his journal, writing utensils and laptop for the sake of not looking like a weirdo. what kind of person goes to a diner and just…. sits there. he’s gotta keep up a facade. 

things are starting to look grim for jay as he sits and works and waits for the object of his desire to appear in front of him. while the retro cat clock on the wall continues its relentless ticking he attempts to swallow down his dismay. 

alas, the universe must be on his side after all for soon enough he catches a glimpse of you through his peripherals. yes! you seem to be a little frazzled, gnawing on the inside of your cheek before grabbing a mop to clean up the chocolate milk that a toddler has decided to decorate the floor with; your shift must have just started. 

he keeps his head hung low while intermittently scribbling in his journal or scrolling on his laptop, opting to steal an occasional glance as you assist a plethora of other patrons. the coffee he was served upon his arrival is starting to go tepid, much like yesterday, and he’s practically praying you’ll soon stride over and ask if he needs a top up. 

“more coffee…” you pause briefly, “jay?”

hold up, how’d you learn his name? 

his brow quirks upwards in confusion and with your hand - the one that’s not holding a boiling pot of coffee - you point to his leather bound journal that’s splayed across the table, opened to the first page. property of park jay is scrawled across the top in his sloppy handwriting akin to that of a first graders. he’s surprised you can even distinguish what it says to be completely honest. 

“ahhh,” he remarks in understanding, smiling ever so slightly because hey, now you know each others names. that’s a step in the right direction.

“were you looking to order something? you know, other than black coffee.”

as if on cue his stomach growls (luckily quietly enough for you to not pick up on it) and he fumbles for the plastic covered menu to his right that slips and slides in his sweaty grasp. 

“i would love to but uhh, i’m not sure what i’m in the mood for… what do you recommend?”

you roll his question around in your head for a moment, “were you thinking sweet or savoury? or if you want both, we make a pretty mean monte cristo.”

at this point if you told jay to walk off a cliff he would do it, so he orders your recommendation without hesitation.

“good call,” you purr before waltzing away from his booth and into the kitchen, leaving jay to erupt in a fit of goosebumps on his own. 

while he waits he busies himself with reading an article on his laptop, getting halfway through before realizing he hasn’t actually been taking any information in the entire time. but can you blame him? his brain is… preoccupied with other thoughts. 

soon enough you’re striding back over to where he’s seated, placing a steaming monte cristo with so much confectioner's sugar on top it looks as if there’s been a mini avalanche in front of him. he thanks you and is about to dig in before he realizes you aren’t leaving. 

“is your business partner coming today?”

…what?

“my business partner? i don’t- OH! fuck, uh y-yes my business partner right! uh no, no he’s not coming today. i usually come here to work on my own though.”

for a moment he forgot about the blatant lie he spilled to you the last time he was here to save face, but he thinks he saved himself with that last bit. 

a playful yet triumphant smirk makes its way onto your face, “that’s funny, i’ve never seen you here before yesterday.”

his eyes widen and his palms become impossibly sweaty. caught in a lie, great.

before he can come up with a witty response you just shoot him a knowing look as you walk away from the booth he’s seated in, your strawberry body spray wafting behind you and infiltrating his senses, rendering him immobile. 

ugh how you make his teeth ache! he longs to douse you in syrup and powdered sugar, drag his hot tongue across your skin as you squirm and twist in pleasure underneath him. he’s sure you’d be sweet enough to give him a cavity. he finishes his monte cristo with gusto and attempts to do more work on his laptop but finds his brain to be far too frazzled to do so.

when he decides to call it quits, he leaves you a hefty tip before driving home with the taste of sugar coating his lips and the inside of his mouth.

over the span of a few weeks the two of you become accustomed to a game similar to the likes of cat and mouse.

he shows up to the diner in the late morning/early afternoon and prays that you’re scheduled for a shift; you usually are. through the course of a few hours jay manages to get minimal amounts of work done while you check on him occasionally, offering your opinions on different menu items and then placing a hand on his shoulder with a laugh when he trips over his words. 

he’s sure you can sense the tension as well, but in case you can’t he keeps his thoughts to himself. you could just be doing your job for all he knows. 

nevertheless, it feels as if all aspects of jay’s life now revolve around you. when he falls asleep at night you’re the last thing on his mind and when he wakes up you’re the first. when he gets himself off he has to think of you or else he won’t feel satisfied, and he can only hope and pray that one day he’ll be able to feel your body against his, the warmth radiating from your body making him feel like a cake in an oven. 

sure he’d love to take you out, shower you with gifts and spoil you by taking you to expensive places that would surely break the bank, but he just can’t seem to push away all of the hardly appropriate thoughts and feelings he harbours towards you. it’s becoming quite an issue, honestly.

he thinks of popping the buttons on your blouse open one by one before diving in, scattering bite marks and bruises across your tits and neck and collarbones as you writhe and plead underneath him. i need more jay, please give it to me…

god you would sound so perfect.

his fantasies don’t stop there though; they never do. he can’t help himself from imagining what it'd be like to reach up your skirt and peel your panties down your legs as if they’re strands of red licorice. he’d go so slow, taunting and teasing you before slipping himself inside of you and feeling your cunt suck him in as if you crave him like oxygen. 

you smell of strawberries and he’s sure you taste like them too. the stripper red polish on your nails would pair so well with the scratches he’s sure you’d leave across the expanse of his back and shoulders. he longs to dig his teeth into your plush thighs like they’re mochi, snapping a picture of his bite mark embedded in your perfect skin to save for later use. 

down bad is an understatement when it comes to jay’s desire for you. infatuation is more like it.

today starts off like every other day. the smell of burnt coffee is what pulls him from his slumbers, and the clock on his bedside table tells him he managed to sleep in until one in the afternoon. when he trudges into the kitchen he sees his roommate and friend jake, who likely also just woke up and still doesn’t understand how to properly operate a coffee machine, staring at his phone. 

it’s then that jake reminds him of the plans they made to spend the afternoon at their friends house playing video games before grabbing takeout for dinner. jay curses his past self for agreeing to these dumb plans with his dumb friends since he was planning on heading to the diner today to marvel at his favourite waitress! oh well, he can still head over for an hour and a half at most before he has to return and uphold the prior promise he made. 

he turns down jake’s offer of a cup of coffee and, after a quick shower, he’s flying out the door.

when he finally makes it to the place where he spends most of his days now he doesn’t even wait to be seated, just slips into the same booth as always and waits for you. the little ritual the two of you have fallen into now so ingrained into his brain he can’t imagine straying from it. alas, it’s decently busy today so he busies himself by scrolling through his instagram feed while waiting for you to grace him with your presence.

when you finally appear in front of him you don’t say anything, just shoot him your usual friendly smile while precariously placing a napkin and mug of black coffee in front of him before leaving as quickly as you came. this sends jay into an emotional spiral. oh god, did i do something wrong? he ponders to himself, brows furrowed as he tries to remember everything he said to you during your last interaction that could have potentially been misconstrued.

only then does he notice the blue ink poking out from the napkin tucked underneath his steaming mug of coffee. with shaky hands he pulls it out and reads the short message written in your refined penmanship:

my shift is done at 10:00 pm.

wait for me? :)

y/n

and just below your neat scrawl he can make out a sticky lip gloss print, a faint hint of the fake strawberry scent that plagues his mind day and night still lingering. 

in this moment he should be happy, ecstatic, victorious even! his constant and obsequious devotion to you has not gone unnoticed, and at long last he’ll be alone with you in a place that doesn’t have checkered tile floors and posters of pin ups on every square inch of the teal coloured walls. but no, all he feels is embarrassment.

embarrassment because he was too much of a wiener to actually do something so you felt the need to take matters into your own hands. and embarrassment because your little napkin love letter signed off with your glossy kiss is making him excruciatingly horny. it’s like he’s in highschool all over again - yikes. 

he glances at the face of the silver watch that he scarcely takes off, the leather wrist strap now feeling uncomfortably tight considering his recent spike in blood pressure. with some reluctance he decides to leave early, tucking your napkin note into his pocket before driving home while barely focusing on the road and cars in front of him.

the hangout with jake and the rest of his friends is excruciating as expected. time seems to both fly by and drag on simultaneously, and he watches the hands on his watch tick down the hours, minutes, seconds until he can finally be with you - alone. when jake finally throws the towel in jay all but runs out of the door, speeding down the now far emptier city streets before pulling into the dining parking lot and waiting (he’s 23 minutes early).

with every passing minute his heart rate quickens and, when the time reads 10:06 pm, he thinks he’s going to faint when he sees you exit your place of work and scan the parking lot briefly before making your way over to his car. the sound of his passenger side door opening feels far off as he tries to make sense of the fact that you are about to be in his car, right beside him. what the fuck.

“hi.”

“hi.”

“i like your car.”

“oh, you do?”

“yep. it suits you.”

“really?”

you only nod at this, flashing him a subtle grin before flipping down the sun visor in front of you to tidy up your appearance after a long and tiring shift (he still thinks you look pretty). it feels as if his fingers aren’t his own as he fiddles with the radio while gazing at you through his peripherals, watching as you rub the smudged mascara from underneath your eyes before applying a final coat of the lip gloss that he loves oh so much. how on earth is he going to last longer than 5 minutes without falling at your feet?

“sooo what do you wanna do?” jay questions, unsure if his eagerness to hear your response is because he’s genuinely curious or because he just likes the sound of your voice.

“you choose, take me anywhere,” you offer with a smile, “surprise me!”

“okay!” he responds, narrowly escaping a voice crack as he shifts his car into reverse.. he has just the place in mind. 

the drive is somewhat of a lengthy one, although you don’t seem to mind. it’s warm enough to have the windows down, and jay greedily gulps down deep breaths of the fresh night air. from your spot in the passenger seat you ramble about your day at the diner, complaining about an old man who held the ketchup bottle the wrong way and promptly squirted it all over you when you came to ask how he was doing. despite all, you still manage to have a positive attitude. 

soon enough he’s pulling off of the main road into an opening surrounded by woods, killing the engine and the car lights and opting to bask in the natural glow of the night sky. 

“wow jay, way to be subtle.”

“what!!?”

“what do you mean what? you bring me to the city’s unofficial official makeout spot and expect me to not be skeptical?”

fuck. for the entirety of the drive over he was hoping that you wouldn’t know about the promiscuous reputation this spot has garnered over the years. he can’t give up this quickly though, he must play innocent!

“i- woahh, is that what this place is? i genuinely had no idea i just-”

“shut it jay, the first thing i noticed about you was that you’re a terrible liar.”

you’ve got him there, deception is not his strong suit. he’s about to explain himself when he notices you unbuckling your seatbelt and stepping out of his car, prompting him to do the same.

“i just thought it would be a nice, secluded space where we could talk and hang out… nothing more.”

silence settles over the two of you and, upon noting jay’s queasy expression, you decide to indulge yourself and tease him (just a little bit).

“what are you trying to say?” you bat your eyelashes and fake being in thought, “that you don’t wanna fuck me on the hood of your car?”

he chokes on his saliva. 

“w-what i’m trying to say is that i’m a uhhhh gentleman. i’m a gentleman.”

yeah right, you think to yourself. a gentleman and a major fucking hypocrite. 

“okay jay, if you’re such a gentleman then why do you have a raging hard-on from literally just talking to me?”

in the pale moonlight you see his eyes widen before he scrambles to cover his crotch, not doing much to conceal his erection that’s straining against his slacks. 

“oh god i’m so sorry i can explain uhh-”

“i’m just fucking with you,” you taunt before petting his hair affectionately, attempting to quieten your giggles while jay plasters on a fake smile even though he looks like he’s about to puke. in an attempt to garner the little composure he has left he turns away from you, the cool night air soothing his heated cheeks. 

from where he’s standing he’s granted an overarching view of the city he calls home. against the nighttime sky he can decipher the suburbs, the downtown area, the cafe district. upon each building there’s a small rectangle filled with yellow or white light, windows in which individual people are carrying out their individual lives; it makes everything seem so… miniscule. i mean, aside from you, nobody even knows he’s up here - and he’s still trying to decipher if that’s a good thing or not, seeing as tonight all he’s done is embarrass himself. 

when he looks back you’re leaning against the hood of his car, your arms folded across your chest which sequentially shoves your tits together in a way that makes him wanna plunge his face in between them and give you a good old fashioned motorboat. 

his thoughts are cut off when you speak up.

 “i brought you something,” you announce before turning and opening the passenger side door of jay’s car, trifling around in your before before pulling something out and heading back to where you were standing before, leaning against the hood of his car. in your hands is a toppled over piece of red velvet cake protected by a clear plastic takeout container coupled with two disposable forks. 

“sorry it’s kinda smushed…. i forgot about it.”

“no, that’s ok!” jay thinks you shouldn’t have to apologize for anything ever, “thank you.”

with a crisp pop you open up the container, moving it to sit in between the two of you before passing jay one of the flimsy plastic forks. he lets you take the first bite, stating that after a long shift you need to get your blood sugar back up. you laugh before complying, watching as jay takes a bite right after you do, his eyes rolling back as all of the sweet, rich flavours dance across his taste buds. despite the piece of cake not being in the best condition, it still tastes like heaven.

jay’s caught off guard when your hand suddenly swoops in just as he’s about to spear another piece of cake with his fork, collecting a dollop of icing on one of your nails. he should’ve seen it coming when you reach up and wipe it on the tip of his nose with a playful laugh.

“wow y/n, so original,” he sneers while wiping the cream cheese icing on his nose onto the back of his hand. 

he attempts to do the same to you, dipping his finger in the thick frosting before moving to wipe it on the tip of your nose, but you suddenly latch onto his wrist. he watches with hungry eyes and an erratic pulse as your tongue comes in contact with his knuckle, licking all the way up to his icing-coated fingertip before taking his digit inside your mouth. the thick muscle of your tongue wraps around his finger, sucking away the sweetness before you pull yourself off of him. a faint pink ring of lip gloss on the base of his knuckle now present. 

fuck me.

not a single word is exchanged before jay pushes himself onto you, prompting you to lean back against the hood of his car that’s still slightly warm. with your body weight resting on your elbows and your legs spreading to accommodate jay’s torso, you finally let him taste you. 

your lips are soft and warm like a pastry fresh out of the oven, and when he pulls away he heaves a heavenly sigh filled with pleasure and contentment and thank fuck this is finally happening. it’s not long before you’re pressing your lips to jay’s again, one of your hands moving up to caress the shell of his ear before resting against his face.

you can feel his jaw move against your palm when he opens his mouth and drags his tongue across your sugar coated lips, inducing you to do the same. when his tongue pushes past your teeth and brushes against yours you groan in pleasure, the fingers previously gracing his face dipping down to undo several buttons of your work shirt. with his lips against yours and his tongue down your throat you can feel him giving into you, as if you’re a delectable piece of his favourite candy and he has a raging sweet tooth. 

when jay pulls himself off of you you think you might just cry. luckily you don’t go without his touch for long, for when you open your eyes you watch him dip two fingers into the frosting on top of the forgotten slice of cake before smearing it across the exposed flesh of your tits and down your sternum. he promptly shoves the two frosting coating fingers into your gaping mouth, gazing at you with heart eyes as you suck them clean. 

only then does he dip his head down, the tip of his tongue teasing the sensitive skin of your right breast before licking the stripe of icing off with one broad swipe of his tongue. he gives your other breast the same treatment before giving it teasing nips and kisses, using his tongue to soothe the pinch of his canines. 

once he licks the rest of the frosting from your sternum he continues his descent, not stopping until the insides of your thighs are brushing against his pierced ears. in one swift movement he flips your skirt upwards, your pretty panties with a subtle wet patch now on display for him and only him.

not being able to resist seeing your bare cunt in all of its glory, jay eagerly digs two fingers into the waistband before dragging the fabric down your legs. your lacy pink thong gets all twisted and tangled around your ankles as jay struggles to pull it off, eventually managing to get it around your sneakers before tucking it into his pocket for safe keeping. 

he feels his pants grow impossibly tights as he stares at you on the hood of your car with your legs spread, quite literally something that could’ve been torn right out of a playboy. without missing a beat jay dives into you, flattening his thick tongue and licking you like he would a dripping ice cream cone. it catches you by surprise and you instinctively tangle your fingers in his ebony tresses, a needy moan making its way past your lips and into the air. jay uses the tip of his tongue to explore your needy pussy, lapping up your juices and revelling in the taste on his tongue. i could die like this he thinks, and he digs his blunt nails into your thighs while shoving his head impossibly deeper. 

it’s somewhat sloppy, but what he lacks in technique he makes up for in enthusiasm. it feels like he’s practically making out with your cunt and you can’t help yourself from tugging on his hair in approval. the groans he emits in response have you shuddering, the vibrations causing your legs to shake and tremble as you struggle to keep them pried open. in your lower abdomen you can feel the pressure of an impending orgasm begin to brew.

this sensation only doubles when jay shifts his focus to your clit, sucking on and toying with it like it’s a sugar-covered gumdrop. his actions have you arching your back off of the hood of his car, eyes squeezing shut as you cry and plead, “p-please don’t stop jay… never stop.”

your pleas boost jay’s ego to the max and he eats you out with unrestrained passion, alternating between sucking your clit and tonguing your hole until you finish all over his mouth with a canorous cry that reverberates between his ears. he hopes to never forget that sound.

with reluctance he pulls himself off of your sweet pussy, having to push your legs apart slightly to free himself from the way they were clenching around his head. he stares at you in awe as you bask in the post-orgasm sensation, mouth agape and chest heaving faintly. your eyes, when you finally pry them open, are slightly glassy and it looks like it takes you a second to come back to earth. 

your grip on jay’s hair loosened but you never fully let go, and soon enough he feels you tugging at his roots in an attempt to get him to hover over you once again. without hesitation you press your lips to his once again, tasting yourself in and on his mouth as you kiss him until you can’t breathe. 

his curious hands never stay resting in one spot on your body for longer than a second before he’s exploring somewhere else, his mouth making a path from your lips down to your jaw and neck. the tips of his fingers finally stop when they reach your hips, gripping onto your and flipping you over so your chest is against jay’s car and your ass is up in the air. 

he can’t help himself from ogling at your perfect form all splayed out for him. the curve of your ass is to die for and jay starts subconsciously unbuckling his belt, easing the strain of his pants against his painfully hard dick. 

from your spot on top of the car you begin to grow impatient. your tits are smushed and your neck is craned and even though you just came you’re already ready for another one if it means you get to feel jay filling you up like a cream puff. luckily, you soon feel the tip of jay’s cock dragging through your folds, your still-sensitive clit throbbing slightly when he bumps into it. the sound of jay spitting into his palm joins that of the crickets and your erratic breathing, soon replaced by his sighs of delight as he strokes his cock with his spit covered hand to help lube it up. 

you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in when you finally feel him prod your entrance with his tip, although you can sense some hesitancy. it’s not surprising when the silence is broken by jay asking: “...are you ready?”

he feels his chest tighten when you make a noise of approval followed by a meek nod, your starry eyes glancing back at him as much as you can in this particular position. with a hefty exhale he nods back before slowly starting to sink into you, a low groan making its way out of his chest as he pushes deeper and deeper until his hips are flush with your ass. 

once fully inside of you he remains stagnant for a moment, needing to adjust to how incredibly warm and tight you feel if he wants to last longer than three seconds. soon enough he feels he’s garnered enough collectedness to start moving, so he does. 

his movements are small, almost timid at first. like he’s testing the waters, garnering enough confidence to go harder, faster. your hushed whimpers of pleasure ring in his ears and he teasingly rolls his hips in an attempt to have you feel him impossibly deeper inside of you. 

“j-jay!” you cry when he seemingly bumps your g-spot with the tip of his cock, the muscles of your waist tensing up when he does. wanting to provide you as much pleasure as possible he continues his ministrations, not altering them in any way out of fear of doing something wrong. 

jay feels his stomach start to seize up as a pleasurable burn takes hold in his lower stomach, his vision blurring slightly at the edges as he shifts between groaning aloud and biting his lip so hard he’s worried he’ll break the skin and draw blood. with exercised caution he picks up the pace, ensuring that in this moment you’re still feeling as good as he is. 

his cock slips in and out of your desperate, dripping hole with ease, your hips banging against the unyielding metal hood of his car with each and every thrust. it’s hardly comfortable, but at this moment in time you think you’d rather die than have jay stop - so you persevere. 

“god you’re so good jay, so fucking big,” you praise as you feel your second orgasm of the night approaching steadily. most of your limbs have started to go numb from the position you’re in yet you can feel each and every nerve end slowly begin to burn up, to bring you closer and closer to release. when jay reaches down to toy with your aching clit, you’re done for. 

the slight ache from the way your cunt is stretched around his cock adds to the jolting sensations that come every time he bumps your clit has you so close, so close you can taste the sweet promise of an orgasm dancing on the tip of your tongue. jay feels it too, for he throws all inhibitions to the wind and fucks you from behind with no restraint. 

he can feel his release creep up his spine and spread through all of his limbs until it’s all he can see, taste, and feel. groans continue to spill past his lips as white hot light floods his senses and a blinding orgasm washes over him, which is only strengthened by the sensation of your pussy clenching around his cock as you finish underneath him. he cums inside of your wanting cunt, filling it up to the brim before collapsing on top of you with a grunt. 

seconds turn into minutes and the two of you remain in place, breaths and pulses struggling to return to normal as you come down from an intense high. jay can feel his shirt clinging to his sweaty back, and he scrambles off of you when he realizes he was quite literally resting all of his weight on you.

with a helping hand he helps you sit up, chuckling slightly when your knees turn to jello when you try to stand up. so, you opt to stay seated on the hood of jay’s car for just a few more moments, patting the spot beside you to get him to sit down. you’re sure you look like a mess, but jay gazes at you with something that can only be described as awe.

smitten. captivated. enraptured. allured. 

the pale light of the moon casts a heavenly glow across your face, and he kisses your lips like they’re covered in strawberry syrup. 

a/n: tumblr’s editing system is the biggest piece of garbage i am so sorry if there are any weird glitches or anything but i am literally seconds away from whipping my laptop at the wall out of frustration as i edit this so pls lmk if anything looks weird when this posts lawl thank you

#enhypen smut #park jay smut #park jongseong smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen blurbs #enhypen x reader #park jongseong x reader #park jay x reader #jay park x reader #park jongseong fanfiction #park jay fanfiction #park jongseong blurbs #park jay blurbs

[chiricat]

another ramble about art again so i’m hiding it all under a ‘keep reading’ thingy so as to not clog ur feeds :]

aka thoughts about imposter syndrome, fanart, and what it means to draw stuff loosely disguised as a ‘ramble’. maybe a bit of akito almost-kinnie-isms (and probably ena) in there too because why not. also sorry this gets a lot less coherent as it goes on (i lost my train of thought near the end. it’ll come back someday)

i want to keep getting better. i want to keep growing and improving, so that i can convey the ideas in my head to others. i’m afraid to stagnate for too long, because what if it means i’ve hit my limit? what if i’ll never get better than i am right now? an irrational thought, really, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. hell, i felt like i hadn’t improved all that much from a year ago, when i tried to redraw a few of my older posts.

part of this stems from the question ‘how do people see my art? what kind of artist am i to them?’ which comes from when i got into fanart and fandom spaces, a long time ago. i would categorize the people i looked up to, my idols, my role models. there was the one that made comics that felt like home with your friends, and there was the one that made pieces that felt like i was sitting in a café in the middle of a busy city, and there was the one that made renders that felt like i was looking at liquid gold. i was fascinated by the effects of all these different artstyles, and decided that i wanted to do the same. i wanted to make art that made people feel at home, like a fic that you keep coming back to, or art that conveyed how i felt well enough that others felt the same way, or could understand it at the very least. 

naturally, as i continued to draw and admire these artists from afar, i wondered why exactly their art appealed to me. at first, the answer was simple: i like looking at it. but that wasn’t good enough - what about the things i didn’t really care to look at, then? what made this piece any different?

so i tried to understand, why i liked something, or why others liked something. after studying art for a little (yay classes) i understood more, i understood why those artists made the choices they did. for one, it was their powerful composition, and how they wanted to pull the viewer in with the characters. for another, it was their color palettes, which were always balanced yet strong and guaranteed to catch your eye because of it. other times, it would be the lighting, angled to present the characters in such a way that it made you feel like you were there too, or linework that made you feel just how much the artist cherished the characters. there were other, less technical things too, but i was trying to build a foundation before diving into things that were harder to learn.

in short, there was so, so much more to everything than i had realized as a kid.

so i asked myself the same question. why do people like my art? why is my art appealing and worthy of your time? and where did i fit in, if i were to categorize myself? 

these questions got a little worse. incredibly irrational. imposter syndrome was kicking in when i saw that more people were liking my art, especially when i compared it to myself from a year ago. or when my favorite artists were following me back. (it was weird, somewhat. i had always seen them as worlds away from my own space, artists that i had admired from afar and thus never believed that they would turn around and see me.)

‘do people actually like my art? is my art actually worth anyone’s time?’ i wonder. ‘do i deserve these nice comments, or even these likes?’ 

‘am i even getting better at all?’

these are a bit foolish of me to think. it shouldn’t matter, really. as long as i’m enjoying drawing and having a fun time, then why should it matter whether others like it or not? i don’t have to be doing my best, giving it 110% all the time, i’m allowed to make goofy art or self-indulgent art. this is my motto, for the most part. as long as you’re enjoying the craft, then it’s worth it.

but with the goal of improvement, i don’t always want to stay in my comfort zone. i want to keep pushing my limits, even if its just a little at a time, so i can make something impressive, something that really resonates as much as i want it to, as much as certain pieces resonated with me when i was younger. the same way that i kept coming back to certain pieces (and still do), i want to be able to do that too. i don’t want to feel like a kid playing at an adult’s game, like someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing and it shows.

it’s a tricky balance. i’m not sure if i’ll ever truly feel like i’ve ‘finally done it’. i think that most artists are never truly content with their work as a whole, anyways, and that’s okay. that’s something i should be more okay with. i can make art just for fun, and i can also make art with the intent of solely improving or practicing. i can even combine the two, and most of the time, i try to anyways.

(sorry, i lost my train of thought after writing the last few paragraphs... i dunno where i wanted to go with this exactly HHH.

tldr; i’m always stuck between ‘i’m happy making this art even if its bad’ and ‘i need to get better and leave people in awe to feel like i deserve the love and nice comments i receive’.

if you somehow managed to get to the end of this, ty for reading, even if it was a hot dumpster fire LMAO)

#cat does some thinking #I NEED A BETTER TAG FOR MY RAMBLES #even if theyre only like. once or twice a year max #lol after writing this i came back to the piece i was working on (and what solidified this whole thing) #and it doesn't look as bad anymore :) #argh lost my train of thought at the end of this. i got distracted #i know the akitoisms and enaisms arent explicitly said but i think theyre still there #shinonome struggles

[redrocketpanda]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks...

hey - absolutely always okay to ask me about my favourite characters (or favourite anything's). I haven't unboxed them for some time and am frankly excited to wave them in everyone's faces again (though picking a top 10 is hardddddd - this could very easily have been a BNHA/HQ/JJK list but I restricted myself to 1 character per media)

Bakugou Katsuki (BNHA) - beloved boy, loml, star in my sky, etc etc. forever #1 of any + all lists. I adore grumpy characters who find themselves caught up in being loved into character growth by their friends, but I think the main reason he's my #1 is that I see a lot of myself in him. I too was a very angry young person with a superiority complex who went on a journey into letting others in, allowing myself to experience joy and love, and dismantling ideas of perfectionism. I don't think I'll ever truly let the pricklyness or slight god complex go though

Bokuto Koutarou (Haikyuu) - beloved boy #2 because who doesn't love Bokuto??? We are all rendered weak in the face of his endearing and endless puppy energy. I love how loving, optimistic and tenacious he is. Oh, and let's not talk about how relatable some of his other qualities are (prior to watching HQ I almost verbatim quoted a complaint Bokuto makes in a completely different context). love himmmmmmmm

Sarah Harding (The Lost World) - One of two of my biggest role models as a child/teenager. I wanted to be like Sarah so bad and had also wanted to work in animal behaviour in part bc of her. She's completely badass, and as an adult I also have a newfound appreciation for how she handles communicates + asserts her boundaries in her relationship with Ian

Padme Amidala (Star Wars) - The second of my biggest role models as a child/teenager. Leia didn't grow on me until I was older, but I was obsessed with Padme. I feel like the fandom + Episode III does her dirty, but to me I adore how intelligent, caring and assertive she is. I studied politics at college because of her!

Gojo Satoru (Jujutsu Kaisen) - Possibly my favourite of all of the shitbags that I love. I remember desperately pleading with myself to not fall on my face for Gojo during the first episode of S1 and made it until the credits... Why do I love him? He's heinously obnoxious, self-assured, hilarious, extremely powerful, and a complete walking disaster of a man.

Cristina Yang (Grey's Anatomy) - I don't watch Grey's Anatomy anymore but I used to be obsessed with it. I still own S1-6 on DVD and have very fond memories of it. I always loved Cristina for her blunt directness, self-belief, intelligence, and approach to friendships/relationships. Plus, my best friend in college identified me as a 75% Cristina/25% George personality so Cristina has also been very dear to my heart for that reason lmao

Achilles (The Song of Achilles) - It wouldn't be me if I didn't include Achilles on a list of favourites. I named my dog after Achilles because I love him so much and joked to my (poor) boyfriend that if we ever have a kid together, their middle name should be Achilles. Madeline Miller's depiction of Achilles is my favourite and love him for very similar reasons to Bakugou tbh. Give me a man filled with unbridled pride and arrogance with god-like physical prowess and I'll probably love them forever (plus also, ow my heart)

Kassandra (Assassin's Creed Odyssey) - *heart eye emoji* but fr I have such a fondness for Kassandra. She's the perfect mix of stoic big buff lady, hilariously sarcastic sense of humor, and absolute heart of gold. I love her characterisation and think she's such a fantastically written character. Plus... I want her to pick me up and cuddle me so bad

Lilo (Lilo and Stitch) - I think it's a tragedy that Lilo is often forgotten due to not being a Disney princess bc she is honestly such a wonderful character. Lilo and Stitch is one of my favourite movies, and I admire how resilient, loving, eccentric and curious Lilo is

Xandri Corelel (the Xandri Corelel series) - The Xandri Corelel is one of my favourite sci-fi series and that is, in part, bc of Xandri herself. She's the first autistic woman I encountered in sci-fi and I adored how the series explores how her autism is what makes her an excellent head of xeno-liaisons. She's also bisexual and polyamorous so even further brilliant rep for me, and tbh is just a great character all round

I tried not to write an essay but it's really hard when I could talk about these characters all day but hopefully this was vaguely fun/interesting for people to read And in case anyone is interested some of my other favourite characters who didn't quite include the top 10 include: Jirou Kyoka (BNHA), Kirishima Eijirou (BNHA), Itadori Yuji (JJK), Nishinoya Yuu (HQ), Tanaka Ryu (HQ), Kuroo Tetsurou (HQ), Miya Atsumu (HQ), Zagreus (Hades), Moana and Rapunzel (Disney), Fang Runin (The Poppy War), Kunigami Rensuke (bluelock), Bachira Meguru (bluelock), Sebastian (Stardew Valley), and Vash the Stampede (Trigun Stampede)

#redrocketpanda #rrp asks

[fourseasonsfigs]

天理昭昭 - A-Han and Da Shixiong

Back into the JZEUniverse for this pair! These were one of the first figs made of this very popular pairing known as mobage - but they will definitely not be the last.

Mobage is a Japanese word for mobile gaming. In the Junzhe extended universe, it stands for the mobile game characters played by Zhehan and Gong Jun.

The koi spirit A-Han is one of two characters that Zhehan played in the mobile game Fantasy New Jade Dynasty. He also played the lotus spirit Xiao-Zhe, which I posted about previously. You'll be seeing lots and lots of figs of these characters in the future. How soon? Come back tomorrow!

The inspiration for the A-Han in this fig set is our favorite koi spirit handing out a treasure trove of gifts!

Gong Jun plays the oldest senior martial brother (da shixiong) of the Tian Zhao sect. Yes, it's a title more than a name, but Da Shixiong stuck and here we are. I generally just run the name together as Dashixiong (I have a bad habit of doing this with a lot of the JZEU characters, particular Xu Jin and Ji Fa) but I'm trying to do a better job of it! A lot of people just call him DSX, which works too.

I originally posted an A-Han video, but since Tumblr restricts me to just one per post, I decided to use that valuable space for Da Shixiong this time. That way you can see his whole costume. Tomorrow I promise it will be all A-Han!

I will note Da Shixiong as a video game character actually has wings, but that's a story for another day.

This pair is gorgeous. The detailing on the costumes is superb. A-Han is decked out in his finest golden jewelry, as he should be! Da Shixiong is standing in the same crossed-arm pose with his sword as you see in the picture and the video.

As you can see from the video, Da Shixiong's costume is very ornate, so I'm impressed with the level of detail put into this fig. I always love a good ombre effect. You can also see the great 3-D effect on A-Han's tassel there, and of course his golden anklet, which the fandom lost their collective minds over (for good reason, just wait until tomorrow!)

The height difference is pretty significant here, but let's remember A-Han is barefoot while Da Shixiong is rocking some serious white boots.

Here's a good shot of Da Shixiong's blue ribbons and A-Han's golden hair crowns. In the pictures/videos, A-Han's hair is actually more of a grey-white than a pure white (there's a backstory in the game about his hair turning color), and as near as I can tell Da Shixiong's hair has a slight undertone of pink to it. Here in the figs, they're rendered a little more uniformly white, although A-Han's hair IS a bit greyer. I think it was an excellent choice, keeps the focus on the outfits.

The full back view so you can see Da Shixiong's golden scarf and detailing on his costume. I would buy a replica of that scarf no problem.

And a little more detail of A-Han's little feet and the back of Da Sshixiong. Love the layers of his costume here.

An extreme close up of our beautiful koi fish! His golden jewelry shines beautifully, as well as his lucky chest and the gold crowns in his hair. This is such a delightful fig.

LOVE his little smirky smile here - that sideways grin is my number one favorite expression on any fig's face! Even better than the cute uwu face, because you know they're up to something rascally and fun.

This is a good view of his impressive boots, and and all the rest of the fine details like his different colored vambraces. The sword always makes me laugh, it makes me think of little tiny beady dragon eyes.

As you can see from the box cards, the name of the set is 天理昭昭, tiānlǐ zhāozhāo, which Google translate reports is either Sky Carp Zhao Zhao or Heaven's Justice Manifested, so I'm guessing (always dangerous when I'm embarrassingly ignorant to the language) the name is a clever play on Da Shixiong's sect name (Tian Zhao), A-Han being a fish spirit, and the chengyu (a Chinese idiom) for Heaven's justice prevailing over the wicked. Yet another thing to figure out when I'm much, much further along in my Chinese lessons.

I've now posted about all these three sets now that you can see on the box. I'm feeling a little accomplished. The firefighter set is here, and the winky Bazaar photo shoot is here if you want to check those out!

Material: PVC

Fig Count: 182

Scene Count: 13

Rating: Celestial indeed!

[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]

#jzeu #junzhe #zhang zhehan #gong jun #shl cast #word of honor cast #mobage #dashixiong #a-han

[music-despite-everything]

Didn't He Ramble by Kamau Braithwaite

Drawing of Kamau Brathwaite on the cover of Liviticus, one of his last collections of poetry rendered in the Sycorax Video Style. Artist: Fay Helfer.

---

1

So to New York London I finally come hope in my belly hate smothered down to the bone to suit the part I am playing

That summer was fine: newspaper notices variety acts what the heart lacked we supplied with your hips and the art of our shuffle shoes

But with the winter I knew I was old. Poor Tom was cold. Feet could no longer walk the fallen gold of parks. Gates closed, the pavements skidded blue and fro- zen. To and fro I walked, I wandered; wind cut my face with its true Gillette razor blades and snow burnt the rivers' bridges. In my small hired room, stretched out upon the New York Herald Tribune, pages damp from dirty lots, from locked out parks, from gutters; dark, tired, deaf, cold, too old to care to catch alight the quick match of your pity, I died alone, without the benefit of fire.

2

Bring me now where the warm wind blows, where the grasses sigh, where the sweet tongue'd blossom flowers

where the showers fan soft like a fisherman's net thrown through the sweet- ened air

Bring me now where the workers rest, where the cotton drifts, where the rivers are and the minstrel sits

on the logwood stump with the dreams of his slow guitar

3

But my sons grow fat, grow fat, far from the slow guitar. See them zoot suits, man? Them black Texan hats? Watch false teeth

flash; fake friendship makes them mock your grief and overnight they are the people's choice, the people's politicians. So

it's now grab the can, grab all you can and give it to your selves, the poor.

Let's legislate that black is white and white that black dominion that we aim for evermore.

So burn the crops raise flash car cities I am Selassie

And Selassie God black snow falls from my heaven. You scratch my drum

I beat your violin I who was once your slave now slave my captive friend.

4

But perhaps I am too far away to care about these things. Here once more the good

soil warms me, worms now warn me of the too much faith the too much fear

of others. The skin's destroyer in this soft subsidence obeys impartial laws.

And I no longer lonely now long for the drums to speak, the violins listen

before they begin, the slow guitars converse. Long, too, for flowers: not for their spider-feet of roots that now trans-

fix me, but for their touch of surfaces, of shapes, of colours, and of course the various scents that really give them

meaning. And I should like to see my children's children: slender shoots: the grow-

ing green reminders of the seeds I gave. Will their blooms find my grave?

Will they too share the rocks, the charcoal bed, lost gold, the fire trail

of fear, the silent paths of forest we shall not know again?

Or do I hear them mock my sons: my own sons mock- ing me?

from Rights of Passage 1967 (21-4)

#poem #poems and poetry #poemblr #poemsociety #poetry #kamau braithwaite #didn't he ramble #rights of passage #fay helfer #leviticus

[coleman02hughes]

replica burberry scarf 29

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This first image of the two scarves laying side-by-side, best reveals essentially the most notable distinction between the real Burberry scarf and the fake one. You can’t miss the blurriness of the black stripe operating by way of the fake scarf. That’s not dye that has bled downward on the scarf, it’s the fuzz of the cashmere hanging downward that causes it to have that blurred effect. When I visited eBay, I was surprised to see a “Buy Now” public sale for a “New” Burberry scarf that appeared identical to the one I had simply bought, just for a lot much less. The seller had excellent feedback after many transactions and accepted returns if an merchandise was returned within 14 days. Since the headscarf was such an excellent deal, I decided to order it to offer as a present subsequent Christmas.

#burberry silk scarf replica #burberry scarf replica #replica burberry cashmere scarf

[rozengrotto]

Octavinelle: Mutualism

(in which Azul is confronted with his worst fear and realizes how much he values the two people closest to him...)

a fic with a lot of angst, but also with a fluffy ending. I hope you enjoy! Ps: 🐙 🐬 🦈 Octavinelle is love, Octavinelle is life 🐙 🐬 🦈

“Done.”

Azul looked up from his paperwork.

“What do you mean 'done'? Your shift isn't over yet.”

“'M done, can't'cha see? I'm quitting this boring job.”

Floyd carelessly dropped his fedora right onto the document Azul had been working on a mere moment ago.

The dorm head of Octavinelle clicked his tongue in mild annoyance. “Your mood swings are getting sillier and sillier, Floyd. Perhaps you should ask your brother for some advice to keep a calmer mind.”

“Dunno what's so hard to understand 'bout that.” Floyd muttered. “I'm done cuz I hate getting orders from you. Always have. I've only been so nice to ya and all that shit for Jade's sake, but I've had enough.”

Tch, so childish.

Azul shook his head at Floyd's antics and was ready to reprimand him for using such a rude tone with him when the door to the VIP room opened with a creak.

“Jade, thank goodness. Your brother is acting even more insufferable than usual, please take care of him, would you? I can't deal with him right now, I'm a very busy man.”

The other Leech twin strided silently through the room and placed his fedora neatly next to his brother's on Azul's table.

Azul quirked an eyebrow at that strange gesture. “Jade?”

“I am hereby resigning my position as vice dorm leader of Octavinelle.”

Azul practically jumped up from his seat, his glasses askew from the sudden movement. His head whipped from Jade to Floyd and back in disbelief at what he was hearing.

“Jade, what...what is the meaning of this? Have you two lost your mind?!”, he asked with a voice quivering in anger.

The twins stared down at their smaller companion, neither of them saying a word.

Mismatched eyes of coal and gold pierced through Azul like a barbed hook.

“Floyd's behavior I can dismiss as one of his childish whims, but you, Jade...I expected better from you! This is no laughing matter!”

“I agree. It is nothing to joke about. You're already the biggest laughing stock there is, Azul.”

Jade explained calmly, finishing his sentence with a cold smirk.

Azul's eyes widened in shock.

“Wh...what?”

“We've had enough of you, Azul. You've become sooooo boring ever since you had your stupid Overblot. I'm tired of working here and getting commands from you as if I'm your pet.”

“May I remind you that we aren't your servants?”, Jade added to his brother's complaint. “Pleasure and fun are the only waves moving us forward. We could never accept someone as dull as you as our leader.”

Words shouldn't hurt on a physical level, yet he reclined as if he had pricked his skin on the sharpest coral.

“Jade, Floyd...I don't....I don't understand.”, Azul stammered.

Was this a cruel joke of sorts? It wasn't the first of April, was it?

No, no, this couldn't be real.

This wasn't happening.

Azul could feel his world slowly crumbling down.

“How many times should we say it? Azul, we're leaving. Jade an' I already had a talk with the Crow and we'll be transferring to a different dorm next week.”

“Transferring?”, Azul repeated. His throat felt coarse like sandpaper and it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

It felt as if the potion he used to turn himself human had lost its potency, rendering him like a fish out of water.

“Frankly, I couldn't stand spending my time in a dormitory together with a weakling like you any longer, Azul.”

“Sea snakey and the Otter are so funny~ Hey, maybe we should join their dorm. Whaddaya think, Jade?”

“What a wonderful idea, Floyd. Although I'm not all too sure if the heat of the desert does our sensitive skin any favors. Heartslabyul also sounds like an interesting option, don't you think so?”

“Ahaha, then I'd be in the same dorm as the Goldfishie~!”

“I won't let you.”

The twins' planning came to an abrupt halt. Both of their heads tilted towards their ex-dorm head, faces devoid of any sympathy.

“Huh? Did the lil' octopus say somethin'?”

Azul swallowed down a traitorous sob and glared upwards into the twin's eyes.

“You two are students of Octavinelle, there's no better place for you in this entire school. Ridiculous. Why would you want to change dormitories? No, why are you behaving like that all of a sudden!? Jade, Floyd, it's really not funny. You had your way with me, but it's over now. Please, return back to-”

“Shut up.”

An involuntary gasp escaped Azul's mouth.

Jade's words had an unusual edge to it, harsh and merciless.

Azul felt paralyzed under that gaze.  As if any further movement would lead him into the deep unknown.

Finally, the worst shock had subsided and he allowed himself to talk again.

“Can't we talk? A-about why you want to leave?”

“It's you, Azul. You're the only reason.”, came the answer.

He couldn't tell anymore which twin said it to him.

“But why...?”

“We are sick of you.”

Sick of....

Of course.

Of course it had all been just an act.

They had never been anything more than business partners in the first place.

Azul was a fool. The same stupid, dumb, little octopus like back then, holding onto a ridiculous light of hope that the relationship he had with the Leech twins was some sort of friendship.

Clearly it had only been a form of mutualism like any other under the sea.

Yet he had indulged in that beautiful dream for so long now.

He was addicted to feeling that way. Feeling like he finally belonged somewhere.

A place between two people that he could call home.

People who would accept him and love him unconditionally.

All had turned into seafoam fleeting through his hands.

“Please...don't leave.”

Azul took a wobbly step forward.

His legs didn't obey anymore. Similar to how it felt when he first started walking on land, unsure and anxious.

Now it felt like the floor was collapsing underneath his feet with every cruel word that left their mouths.

Floyd crossed his arms behind his head, not the smallest glimpse of pity in his eyes. “Our deal's over, Azul.”

“P-please...Jade, Floyd...”

Another step forward.

Azul could barely keep himself above the ground.

Everything is over.

Nobody wants to stay.

“I'll do anything!”

A chocked sob.

The burning ache in his chest like swallowing saltwater.

“But please, don't leave me. Don't leave me behind!”

Jade shook his head. For once, he didn't wear his fake smile, but a completely blank expression.

“Please, spare us the drama, Azul. There's nothing of interest you could offer us.”

No.

This is the end, isn't it?

If they won't stay with him, then who will?

“I-is it money? I can give you more money, I'll double your payment! No? Is...is it power? Do you want to make a c-contract? I'll give you one of the collaterals I received, any one! Jade, Floyd, please! Please, I'll...I'll become YOUR servant, is that it? I'll do anything you wish for! Do you want that? What is it? Please, tell me what it is!”

Azul was on his knees now, his body uncontrollably shaking with heavy sobs. Tears mixed with jetblack ink and spilled down his face.

“Please! Just don't leave me...DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE!”

His crying was raw and ugly. He hadn't cried like this ever since he was a child.

“Pathetic.”

Jade looked down his nose at the weeping dorm head crawling at his feet. The once so proud leader of Octavinelle, reduced to a trembling lump of sorrow at the perspective of being left alone.

“Azul, you've always been such a wimp. You act all high and mighty, but in reality you're nothing than a little, weak crybaby.”

Floyd tapped his shoe against Azul's shivering form, eliciting an even louder cry.

“Just take a look at yourself. Is this really what a respectable dorm leader looks like? Disgusting.”, Jade sneered.

His twin brother shrugged. “Eh, you don't even make a good snack in the end. All inky and dirty 'n snotty like that, ewww. My appetite's gone.”

“J-Jade...Flo...yd...please...”

Colors and shapes blurred in between his tears.

The only thing he could see anymore were two aquamarine dots with streaks of black that slowly but surely grew smaller and smaller until he heard the door opening.

“D-don't...Don't go! I NEED YOU!”

With outstretched arm, his hand grasping into emptiness, Azul was left alone in his office with the slamming of the door.

Eventually, everybody would leave him behind.

Not even the twins wanted to put up with him.

Damned to live unwanted and hated.

Left alone to wail in his loneliness like the poor, unfortunate soul that he was.

- - -

Azul awoke, eyes wide opened and staring at the dark ceiling of his room.

Wet streaks coated his cheeks and he tightened the grip around his blanket until his knuckles ached as he took deep breaths to calm his beating heart.

A dream.

It had only been a dream.

Meaning that the twins hadn't left, they were still at his side and had no intention of abandoning him anytime soon.

Right?

With the back of his hand Azul wiped a trail of cold sweat off his forehead.

Had it truly been just a dream? Wasn't there perhaps a grain of truth embedded in there?

That thought stuck in Azul's head and no matter how hard he tried to disperse it, the fear of it being a harsh reality kept him fidgety and awake.

No dice. The only thing he could do was...

Their door wasn't locked. There really was no need, nobody in their right mind would try and enter the Leeches room if they valued their life.

Nobody, but the boy who had stuck around the two eels for what felt to him like an eternity.

As he stood in the dark room, Azul was wondering what exactly he had come for in the first place.

It was the middle of the night, what an egoistical thing to go and disturb their sleep.

Yet Azul knew that he would never be able to rest easy if he couldn't immediately get an answer to the question burning in his mind.

Slowly, he tiptoed further into their room, still mulling over about how exactly he should proceed.

No, this was a dumb idea after all.

What was he even doing? Creeping around like a madman, just because of a silly nightmare...

“Azul?”

The dorm head flinched, barely being able to hold back a surprised squeak.

He saw a shadow moving and as his eyes adjusted more and more to the darkness, it was clear that Jade was sitting up in his bed. His one golden eye gleamed through the dark like an anglerfish's lure.

“I...I'm sorry, but...I-...well, it's...”, Azul stammered.

Goodness, why had he even gone to their room if he couldn't form a coherent sentence anymore!?

It wasn't like him to not think things through. Acting purely on emotions was a thing Floyd did, but not him.

Azul felt a surge of desperation at his own helplessness, felt repulsed by his inability to outright voice the storm of anxiety and panic in his head.

“Is something the matter, Azul?”

Jade's voice was calm as always, an anchor in the stormy sea and Azul held onto it like a shipwrecked sailor.

Just say it. He simply had to ask one question and finally be done with it.

Octavinelle's dorm head took a shuddering breath before he continued: “You...you two wouldn't leave me without a reason, would you?”

There was a moment of silence, but Azul could practically feel the eel raising an eyebrow in question.

“Where does this come from?”

“Just tell me, please. You and Floyd wouldn't just abandon m-...wouldn't just leave the dorm all of a sudden, right? For another one, I mean.”

Bed sheets rustled, accompanied by a sleepy yawn.

“Eh, Azul? Waz' wrong?”, came from Floyd's side of the room as another golden eye opened.

Azul swallowed. This was getting harder and harder by the second. For a little moment he pondered over excusing himself and returning back to his room.

No, he was knee-deep in this mess now, he couldn't back down until he got his answer.

“Azul asked if we had plans to leave his side.”, Jade explained.

“Eh? That's all?”

The mattress creaked as Floyd straightened and finally got up from his bed.

Before realization could even properly kick in, Azul found himself pushed by Floyd towards his twin, who held out a hand for the smaller boy to take.

Azul blinked a few times before he hesitantly took the offer, leading him to slide beneath the covers of Jade's bed.

“Move, Jade! It's too tight in here, I can barely squeeze in!”

Jade pressed his back into the wall as Floyd joined the other two on his twin's bed, immediately slinging one arm around Azul's waist.

It was tight and narrow and a wild tangle of limbs.

In short: It was perfect.

Azul immediately felt the safety that only a small octopus pot under the sea could grant him. He could easily find the same kind of comfort in between the two people that knew him the best.

Snuggled in tightly like a puzzle piece.

He bent his knees, pulling them closer to his body like he would with his tentacles to make himself even smaller.

“Why would we leave ya without sayin' a thing, lil' octopus? You make us work a lot, but it's also so much fun hanging around you~”

“It would be foolish to leave the side of someone as interesting as you, Azul. I don't think there is anyone quite like you out there, not on land and neither under the sea.”

“You...”

A sniffing rang out, making the twins shift a little.

“Azul? Why are you cryin'?”

The dorm head of Octavinelle rubbed one hand over his eyes, stiffing another sob.

“Thank you...”

This was the last coherent word leaving Azul's mouth before he nestled in even closer to the two eels around him.

#twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #octavinelle #twisted wonderland fanfiction #twst #my writing #I needed to have some wholesome octavinelle content #I just love those fish so much

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (May 23/2021) - Turtle Hatching

Foolish wonders whether to take Quackity’s offer and join him in Las Nevadas. 

Later, Bad guides two turtles through the ups and downs of their relationship as they navigate the turbulent and emotional experiences found in life, love, marriage and parenthood. 

A brief summary of the week’s total events can be found at the end of the post.

---

VOD LINKS:

Foolish

Tubbo

Jack Manifold

BadBoyHalo

Michaelmcchill

---

- Foolish continues wondering if he should join Quackity. Whether or not Foolish joins, he won’t be done with his summer home. 

- There are good and bad sides to both options. Las Nevadas is both risk and reward, and Foolish is torn

- Knowing Eret, he’d probably tell Foolish not to join

- He also still has the deal he made with Ranboo about the shulker box

- Foolish finishes building the massive pyramid at his summer home

- Tubbo comes on to work on Bee ‘n’ Boo with Ranboo, getting materials

- Tubbo and Ranboo rob Foolish of a few blocks from his floor while he tries to render in the view from the pyramid

- Foolish goes to Snowchester to do some very mild griefing in revenge, breaking a few blocks from the floor and stripping many logs

- Tubbo and Ranboo go back to steal the beacon, but instead Tubbo just steals the same blocks of the floor that Foolish filled in

- Ranboo starts chasing him through the Nether. Foolish returns to the summer home to see that they stole some of his floor again

- Maybe this is why Foolish needs to change his ways a little bit, maybe join Las Nevadas for more balance

- He decides to take a visit. Maybe the Tubbo-Ranboo situation was the final push. Along the way, he finds that the portals have been messed up and deals with them

-  He knows the others like Puffy and Eret wouldn’t approve of him joining Q, so he won’t tell them. Foolish reaches Las Nevadas. He’ll stay here...at least for a little while

- Jack Manifold continues to work on his pub

- Bad adds a llama to his collection

- These llamas are the population of L’Sandburg. Some llamas will be the L’Sandburgian Army, others will join the L’Sandburgian Council. Some will be simple citizens

- He checks on the L’Sandburg nature preserve and thinks there should be more turtles. He burns his weednip and goes to find some seagrass

- Bad plays matchmaker with two turtles named Shelly and Sheldon, two turtles from opposite sides of the island. Sheldon is nervous about Shelly not liking him and Bad gives him a pep talk

- Shelly and Sheldon go on a date! It goes well! Afterwards, Sheldon is nervous about a second date, but Bad gives him advice -- if Sheldon gets so worried about it not working out, he might end up sabotaging his own relationship anyway

- Sheldon agrees, and Bad calls Shelly on the phone to tell her that Sheldon is interested in a second date. Shelly has moved house

- Michael logs on to build a house and Bad searches for nametags

- While Bad was gone, Sheldon gained his confidence and went on ten more dates with Shelly! They even moved in together, and Sheldon wants to propose!

- Bad gives relationship advice to Sheldon, telling him that Shelly probably doesn’t want a big public proposal as such an event might put a lot of unexpected pressure on her 

- Both people in the relationship should have some idea that a proposal might be coming soon so that both people are comfortable knowing that the other person will likely say yes. Sheldon tells Bad that he believes they are at that stage already

- They discuss ideal places to propose in a less public spot. Sheldon assures Bad that they both have a solid idea of what they want their future to be as a family. 

- Bad gives Sheldon a rose bush to propose with and sends Sheldon on his way, unbelievably proud of them both

- Bad asks Sheldon what Shelly said afterwards, and Sheldon says...

Shelly said yes!

And Sheldon wants Bad to wed them together! 

- Bad tells Sheldon that he would be honored to. Sheldon wants a sudden marriage so that they can become officially married and go off to live together

- Bad does the vows. The turtles both say I do

“Then, by the power vested in me through the Dream SMP and that shiny pyramid with all that shiny gold that I might take later...I now pronounce you both: a husband turtle and a wife turtle. Shelly and Sheldon, you may proceed to smooch!”

- Bad says his parting words to them and gives the couple some honeymoon gifts, giving them roses, chicken, and feeding them seagrass. He leaves, telling them to have fun

- Bad sings about true love for a bit, then goes back to find a bit of XP on the beach. He’s confused and goes to find Shelly and Sheldon, discovering that Sheldon has laid eggs and is now staying to guard them!

- Bad helps Sheldon guard the eggs while Shelly is away

- He then goes back to Shelly to find that Shelly went out to buy a carton of milk when she got lost. But when he and Shelly return to the eggs, they find that Sheldon isn’t there, so Bad leaves to go find him. He must have gone to get groceries too!

- Bad gently tries to get Shelly and Sheldon to stop yelling at each other in front of the eggs

- He protects the eggs and then goes looking for the two again, asking a cat in a boat if they had seen Sheldon

- Bad finds Sheldon swimming near the eggs. He tells Sheldon he checked her house but Shelly wasn’t there. He finds Shelly by the pyramid and is shocked to hear that she doesn’t want to see Sheldon anymore

- He returns to Sheldon, telling him he tried his best. Shelly needs her space and they need to take care of the eggs in the meantime 

- A wandering trader nearly destroys the eggs, so Bad murders him. He starts building an enclosure for the eggs

- Bad finds Sheldon and tells him that he’s getting frustrated that he’s taking care of the eggs and Sheldon’s off doing whatever he wants. He tells Sheldon that he’s a jerk and that he’ll keep watching the eggs, sending Sheldon on his way

- Bad leaves the eggs to look for Shelly. He finds Sheldon swimming near Shelly’s house, and is overjoyed to hear that Sheldon is hoping to patch things up with her. But he doesn’t think she’ll have him back

- Bad assures Sheldon that they’ll find her. He reminisces on Sheldon’s bachelor days, finding Shelly and bringing them both back to the egg enclosure. Shelly confesses to Bad that she’s worried Sheldon will still be mad, that she messed up

- Bad tells Shelly that Sheldon wants her back and acts as a mediator between the two. He gets the two to talk calmly with each other. 

- He asks what problems they have with each other. Sheldon is mad about the toothpaste cap. Shelly has a problem with Sheldon’s breath. Bad points to the fact that the two are holding flippers -- there’s obviously a connection here

- There may be differences in the ways they want to raise their kids, but there was a spark there, and the kids would want to grow up with both of them. Bad can see it in the way they look at each other, and nothing they’ve said is anything they can’t work on together

- At the end of the day, this relationship can only work if both of them are willing to put the work in, and it seems like both are willing, then Bad sees no reason why they can’t be together forever

- Shelly and Sheldon agree, and Bad is elated. He builds them a new room together. They’re going to be one happy family

- Now, Shelly and Sheldon are sharing the responsibilities of taking care of the kids. Sheldon tells Bad he’s worried that he won’t be a good parent, but Bad tells him that he can always ask for help from other turtles in the community for advice

- It’s going to be difficult, and Sheldon won’t be the perfect parent, but at the end of the day, he cares about his kids and that’s what matters. Everything will be fine

- Bad waits a long time for the eggs to finally hatch, but they do: 

The children are named Shelby and Snappy!

Upcoming Events:

- The final Egg lore stream

- Foolish’s date

- Tales From the SMP: “Space Race”

- Ponk’s lore stream

- Dream’s lore video

- Sapnap’s possible lore stream

- Awesamdude lore stream

---

END OF WEEK RECAP:

5/17 - Nothing much happens.

5/18 - Foolish makes a deal with Bad to sell L’Sandburg

5/19 - Foolish hires Punz to search for the nuke, DreamXD gives out player heads, the Badlands argue about weednip while planning for war

5/20 - Nothing much happens.

5/21 - Ranboo finds another Stronghold

5/22 - Dream writes Technoblade a letter, Quackity tries to recruit Charlie, Fundy, Purpled and Foolish to Las Nevadas, Ranboo creates a room for his experiments at the Stronghold

5/23 - Foolish thinks about joining Las Nevadas, Bad does matchmaking for turtles

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts

[idanit]

possibly underappreciated Good Omens fics I enjoyed once upon a time

Indirectly inspired by a video series about fanfiction I watched, I decided to pull together a list of Good Omens fics I have bookmarked as stories I enjoyed, but which have less than 250-300 kudos at the time I’m writing this. No particular order. They’re accompanied by short excerpts from my private fic reading notes (not originally intended to be read by anyone but me, mind), sometimes slightly edited for clarity—and, sometimes, the comments I left on the fics.

This list sat in my drafts for a long time and the recent S2 announcement reminded me of it. I’d love it if it inspired you to do something similar! Spread the love.

And mind the tags, please.

△ = general and teen ▲ = mature and explicit 

thermodynamic equilibrium ▲ 7K the author has such an ear for dialogue and is unapologetic about what they want to write the characters like. They think of the characters as a mix of TV and book canon, but they feel like a homemade blend to me. (...) It’s very funny.

such dear follies ▲ 6K I can really picture this Aziraphale—Crowley as well, but her especially. She’s rather distinct. (...) Nice writing.

The Words Were With - △ 1.2K post-Blitz vignette, Aziraphale realizes what he feels and wonders if they're human enough for this. I liked it, and I liked the tag "transhumanism, but in reverse?", too—what an interesting idea. I'd say it's a vignette in a dire need of a follow-up, but, well, there's the show. The show is the follow-up. It fits very nicely within the canon and I totally believe it could have happened, like a deleted scene.

Gossip and Good Counsel △ 19K/? I love their companionship and how they're set up to be opposites by the management even though they get on pretty well. It feels very in keeping with the canon, but I feel like the fact that it's an F/F set in this particular time period adds a meaningful layer to the situation. It's women supporting each other in the world of men, working with the personas that are created for them, but, privately, being normal, well-rounded people. (...) and of course your writing is always a pleasure to read. (...) SDHDGDHDHDG Maisie is truly an Aziraphale.

Crowley Went Down to Georgia (he was looking for a soul to steal) △ 6K This was nice. Based on a song I didn’t know. Crowley goes to a funeral in the USA, one of a fiddler he knew and lost a bet to once. (...) The fic has not one but two songs composed for it and embedded inside it and that makes it even better. I really enjoyed the experience.

The Thing With Feathers △ 18K WARLOCK you'rE HORRIBLE AND I LOVE IT I would read an entire novel-length fic just of Crowley fighting his battles with Warlock. Written like this? It would be a blast. (...) The OCs are believably characterized and well-loved by the story. (...) Everyone seems to need a friend in this house. (...) This was so fun, and at the same time, their mission has weight here (...) We wonder about what the future holds even though we know it.

Here Quiet Find △ 11K This fic aimed for my head and the aim was sure precise. It was a story of Crowley sensing Aziraphale's distress and finding him in a self-quarantined English village in the seventeenth century, tired and anxious. It's hurt/comfort, so there was washing and bedsharing and I had to love it, so I did.

outside of time △ 2K Post-Almostgeddon, (...) nicely-written, short, but strung with a soft kind of tension and unspoken words. There's no drama, just "can we really", and "do you really" of sudden freedom. They fall into being inseparable. Book canon, which I like for this story (sitting on a tarmac). I liked the footnotes. There's a mention of Eliot. All in all, very much yes.

She'asani Yisrael △ 2K It’s Crowley going through a two-hour service and drinking blessed wine. He also keeps an eye on a boy he was asked to. It’s 1946. It was pretty good, so far the best Jewish GO fic, I think, from the ones I’ve read.

To Guard The Eastern Gate △ 11K  I loved it. You really made Sodom feel lived-in; the description of Keret, Hurriya and Yassib's house and relationship were great. I got attached to both them and the city (...) Aziraphale and Crawley’s interactions were generally very entertaining. I laughed (...) Your rendering of their voices just lands so well (...) But then oh, the entire ending (...) hurt, hurt a lot, and your descriptions are so vivid.

If you’ve been waiting (for falling in love) △ 14K AAAAA a good ending line. The whole paragraph, in fact. I love a good smattering of philosophy in my fics, and this was really nice. I can get behind Thomas Aequinus's and Crowley's view on eternity. It's (...) a pretty simple fic (...) - the courage to express yourself and take a risk is awarded with winning what was at stake by the virtue of reciprocity - but the way it was intertwined with a study of how they would experience a forever was done well. 

Holy unnecessary ▲ 2.2K It's well-written. (...) this is my type of sexual humour if I have any. So subtle. Blink and you'll miss it. Lovely.

The Parting Glass △ 17K Through the ages, they're dancing around their relationship until after the Armageddoff. (...) Wow, this was really, really nice. Very simple in its concept and nothing I haven't read before, but very well-executed. (...) AAAAH I LOVED the first chapter. I always like abbeys as settings, that's a given, but the banter, the good writing, the moral ambiguity!

Name The Sky △ 33K This Crowley is different, but very intriguing. Without his sarcastic talk, and much more animalistic. (...) I love how expressive Crowley is. (...) This fic has a very nice balance of drama and levity. I don't love Crowley-before-the-Fall stories very much, but with this execution I can read about it. (...) Okay I've read Crowley offering fruits, and even Aziraphale biting fruits, but the two of them sharing the apple? Outstanding. Ingenious. What a take.

A Flame in Your Heart △ 5K post-Blitz (why are so many dance fics post-Blitz?), they go to the bookshop and have an actually believable conversation. Then they dance the gavotte. It was really nice! Believable writing, emotions, the dancing! (...) Of course it's too early for them, (...) but the author's note? yeah.

Put down the apple, Adam, and come away with me ▲ 32K At this point it's just reading original stories with characters with names and some personality traits that I recognize. (...) I really enjoy this, the careful dance, the opposition between their views. (...) This is well-written, wow. (...) it's not an easy read (...) this story feels very believably 50s, but also reaches out to the present time. 

Liebestraum ▲ 10K/? It really is like music. I'm enjoying the writing a lot. (...) oh my actual god. This, this? Wow, uh. This came for my throat. (...) THE MUSICAL COMPOSITION, THE MOTIF RETURNING, THE AUTHOR KNOWS WHERE IT'S AT (...) Excellent. This hits the right beats so precisely, (...) and with feeling, too.

Down Comforter △ 2.4K and they lay down in angeldown, a soft rug ‘neath their heads– alright. Well, Crowley lies under Aziraphale's wing on a Persian rug after the Apocalypse, and they talk (...). It was sweet.

The Corsair of Carcosa △ 5K Crowley wakes up from a nap, visits Aziraphale for some drinking, and they read The King in Yellow that he happens to own. Good writing, so I'm bought. Aziraphale mentions Beardsley, so I'm bought twice over. My god, a discussion of etheral/occult madness? Caused by some wrong/true reading? Yes.

Very Good, Omens! △ 6K It's rather well-written, well-pastiched. People don't do that too often, nowadays - try to write in the style of a particular writer. (...) I love wordplay like this.

Reviving Robin Hood: The Complicated Process of Crème Brûlée △ 30K it's well-written (...), has a rhythm to it, and quiet humour. (...) Finally some nice, good, light writing. The attention to detail! (...) I'm still reading most of it aloud, the rhythm of it compels me to. (...) okay this does sound like Pratchett&Gaiman, the Good Omens itself (...) The fic is meandering, hilarious, sensitive in all the right places, and overall lovely.

my dear acquaintance △ 1K Oh. Oh. Yes, yes! Aziraphale in Russia, Russia I've never been in, but I can feel the snow and the evening of. Very real, and the bar, too. Attention to detail - vodka flavoured with dill, what on earth? Yes. He would totally have a distinct taste in operas and he would totally complain about a subpar one. I'm glad Tchaikovsky's there.

there is a crack in everything △ 1.8K This was good! Ah. Inspired by a comment (...), I went looking for Mr. Harrison and Mr. Cortese fics—really, what a big brain moment someone had and why have I never thought to look for them? This is Crowley getting suddenly anxious and Aziraphale going out of his way, through all his layers of not-thinking and denial, to console him. I also really liked how the Arrangement is a carefully unacknowledged partnership-marriage.

Scales And Gold And Wings And Scars △ 6K  No conflict, no plot, one tiny arc like a ripple on the surface of water on a calm sunny day - of Aziraphale discovering Crowley’s scars. It's the South Downs and it's early summer. They bask and swim in a spring. Non-sexual nudity, love in the air like a scent. Nice.

Nineteen Footnotes In Search Of A Story △ 0.4K This is a Good Omens story told only through footnotes. Your mind can fill in the gaps. Fascinating (...). Also, it’s an experiment so apt for this particular fandom.

Hell on Earth △ 6.5K Oh, I loved it! How could I not love it: it's Beelzebub-centric, it's historical, it has classical painting, and even a hilarious scene with a cuneiform phrase, as if I didn't enjoy this story enough already. There are so few Beelzebub fics out there and I find searching for them very difficult (I accept recs if anyone has any), and it's such a shame, so this was really like a gift to the fandom. I absolutely adore the way you portrayed them, small, frightening, powerful, and confident. Also, it was super fun to see how different Crowley seems when we're not in his POV or in a story about him and Aziraphale. (...)

Go Up to Ramoth-Gilead and Triumph △ 24K Daegaer is... pure class. (...) hdhdhdh what pfttt why you so funny (...) I love this Crowley. (...) This got unexpectedly intense. (...) I love the little nods to the fact that Israelites, especially the poorer ones, still believe in other gods. I also really like that they sleep on roofs. It's just the kind of detail that grounds the story and shows that the author is, in fact, a historian. 

#good omens #good omens fic rec #fanfiction #fic rec #idanit reads #i also have a multifannish F/F rec list in the works #all my bookmarks are private but i feel the need to share the love

[hamliet]

Metals and Heavenly Bodies: Why There Is So Much Metal in RWBY

So, why is RWBY so metal? 

RWBY uses metallic symbolism to explore the alchemical process (the refinement of metal into gold via the creation of the philosopher’s stone). Alchemy has seven metals that are ordered in terms of refinement: three base metals, one that is the most refined of base metals, and three refined metals. RWBY has been associating each metal with certain characters. It’s also been giving these characters their ultimate focus in the precise order of refinement.

Metals in alchemy are also associated with heavenly bodies, or planets (well, plus the sun and moon, because we’re dealing with ancient astronomy here). The planets, of course, are named after Roman gods, so they too can be associated with the metals, and RWBY directly correlates them.

NB: It’s very valid to critique tropes and subtext. This isn’t intended to invalidate any criticism but rather to offer a symbolic reading of the metal motif.

So, let’s dive in.

Base Metals:

Lead-Saturn

Associated characters: Qrow Branwen, Ruby Rose, Mercury Black

While I can’t think of any specific reference to lead in RWBY, there are a ton of references to the mythical Saturn. 

Saturn's father (Uranus) was a piece of work who hated Saturn’s mother and so took his son (and other children) and imprisoned them in a cave so that they could never see the sunlight. Saturn’s mother eventually persuaded Saturn to take a sickle and castrate his father. He then wasn’t a particularly great dad himself, becoming more like his father than not.

In alchemy in particular, we have images of Saturn with a prosthetic leg (see: above). This is where Mercury begins his arc. He’s abused by his father, who steals his semblance and refuses to allow Mercury to be his own person (effectively rendering him a prisoner). So, Mercury kills him, and then is taken in by Cinder and Emerald to be an assassin for them, an assassin just like his father. You can see the parallels. 

Saturn’s sickle is also often drawn as a scythe, which Death holds in the above image. A scythe is of course the weapon used by Ruby and by Qrow--specifically, Qrow is the person Ruby imitates and admires. But we know (and Ruby now does to) that Qrow is a flawed human himself; Ruby is better of becoming her own person rather than continuing to stay like her father-figure in Qrow (her own dad is great, but that doesn’t mean Qrow isn’t also a dad figure to her!) 

Qrow, of course, is self-destructive, believing his semblance is to bring bad luck wherever he goes. His name is “crow,” the bird symbolizing the first (black) stage of death and rotting in alchemy. His own upbringing can also be compared to Saturn’s. 

But, you see, Saturn isn’t actually a sign of doom and death. It is one of the symbols of the prima materia, the lead to be transformed into gold by the end of the alchemical process. It shows where the characters can grow, and indeed all three of them are along their path towards growing. 

Tin-Jupiter

Associated character(s): James Ironwood (maybe Weiss Schnee)

Well, I’m actually going to talk more about Ironwood and his arc in the next section. But in Ozpin’s circle, in which characters are based on The Wizard of Oz (a blatantly alchemical story), we have Qrow as the scarecrow, Lionheart as the Cowardly Lion, and Ironwood as the tin man. Jupiter is also associated with the Sublimation stage in the process of alchemy, which is where we are now. 

In case we didn’t get the allusion, RWBY has helpfully placed artwork of tin men on the walls in the background of Weiss’s room this season.

I’m aware that this screenshot isn’t from this season but it gets the point across. I also feel tin might well have an association with Weiss and where she was at in her arc after the fall of Beacon. 

Additionally, Jupiter is actually Saturn’s son in mythology, and is saved from being eaten by his father (look Saturn really wasn’t awesome). He returns to force his father to regurgitate his siblings, and Jupiter and his rescued siblings (yes they were still alive; it’s mythology) fight to dethrone their father. They succeed with the use of lightning, among other things. Saturn was then imprisoned in tartarus. You can see the parallels. 

Do note that the glowing sun above the head of the tin man on Weiss’s wall, showing Weiss is destined to become refined like gold. The golden sun is in sharp contrast to Ironwood’s allusion to the Dark Sun, but there’s a lot more to say about Ironwood in the Iron section. 

Iron-Mars

Associated characters: James Ironwood, Marcus Black, Mercury Black

First, let’s continue with Ironwood. I’ve noted before that iron is associated with war:

Iron in particular is ruled by Mars, the god of war, meaning it is associated with violence. It’s not a coincidence that pretty much from the second Ironwood is introduced, the concept of war comes up, and his entire character has gone on to be the embodiment of the military and violence.

In addition to seeing himself as a sort of be-all-end-all Jupiter figure, Ironwood of course is always expecting war. His arc is one of reverse alchemy, which is a thing. It means that instead of becoming refined, he’s corroding from Iron to Tin. I don’t see good things for him. 

Mars in mythology also becomes obsessed with Venus, which... you’ll have to read the next section for that ;) 

Marcus Black, of course, is an assassin, hence it makes sense that his name literally means “dedicated to Mars.” Mercury (our Mercury) becomes more like him in taking over his role as an assassin. He’s so broken from his father’s abuse that he refuses to become his own person and just falls into his father’s role. It’s tragic. 

So is Mercury’s arc reverse alchemy? No, I don’t think so. There’s more (of course) later on, but if we look at the stages of his development, we see he has moved from Lead to Iron. It’s progress. His leg is a focus for the early arcs of the story (he uses it, along with Emerald’s semblance, to trick everyone into turning against Yang), and only later did we learn his history with his father. Even if the events of course did not happen in succession, the story revealed the allusions one after each other. He’s also made progress in that he’s clearly emotionally attached to Emerald even if he pretends otherwise. Also... (see below)

The Most Perfectable Base Metal:

Copper-Venus

Associated character: Penny Polendina

As I also mentioned previously, Penny’s name references copper (a “copper penny”). The Summa Perfectionis, a thirteenth century alchemical text, calls copper “the most perfectable of base metals.” 

Venus in alchemical imagery is almost always wearing (or surrounded by, since she’s also often, well, not wearing anything) green. 

Green is in alchemy the color of the prima materia, the raw, immature material that will eventually be refined into gold, because green is of course symbolic of the earth, fertility, growth, etc.

As I wrote previously, in mythology Mars had a thing for Venus. I’m certainly not suggesting Ironwood has a thing for Penny in a romantic/sexual sense, but he does seek to control her, and like the Mars of myth, his pursuit of Penny/Venus leads to his humiliation (the Mars of myth gets caught in a trap--no literally a net--by Venus’s angry husband). 

In contrast to Ironwood, Penny, who is originally made entirely of metal, becomes human, while Ironwood becomes more metal--not necessarily literally, but in his spirit. He’s lost his humanity, or rather, gave it away, while Penny found hers. It makes sense to me that a story with spiritual alchemy at its core (which focuses in the Jungian sense on individuation/self-actualization, or fully coming into an understanding of the self) would have Penny literally transform into what she has always been: a final product, a real girl, the philosopher’s stone. 

Refined Metals:

Now these are going to be a bit more predictive. The allusions are clearly there, but how exactly those will play out I don’t know because if we look at these metals as steps in the process, we’re not quite there yet. 

Mercury-Mercury

Associated character(s): Mercury Black, (maybe Emerald Sustrai)

I think the name says it all. 

Kidding. Mercury as a metal is also known as argentvive or quicksilver. It, along with sulphur, form the basis of the alchemical process. They must be united to achieve the Philosopher’s Stone (it’s one of the reasons I am wondering if we’re going to get an important, Mercury-related event in a place named for sulphur or its other name, brimstone, in Vacuo; all the places we know of in Vacuo are named after types of stones including several that are sulfuric in nature). Mercury himself unites the two principles of the work, sun and moon (for who those are, read below). Mercury is the metal from which all other metals come from--he’s way more important to this story than we’ve seen yet. Most likely, he will eventually turn on Salem as well, and in a pivotal moment.

As a god, Mercurius is the author of alchemy. He’s the mythical author of the Emerald Tablet (which Emerald’s name alludes to; I actually don’t personally think Emerald alludes very much to Aladdin. Instead, I think her allusion is the Emerald Tablet and her Egyptian design is based on Thoth, Mercury’s Egyptian counterpart). Mercury is the spirit that gives life.

Lyndy Abraham notes that Mercury is “both destructive and creative” (oh look at the relics of Atlas and Vacuo) and that “the elusive, duplicitous Mercurius who consorts with the devil is at the same time a redeeming psychopomp” (”psychopomp” means spiritual guide) “The fact that he can freely participate in both light and dark worlds without taint makes Mercurius the perfect mediating bridge.” Jung calls Mercury “a symbol uniting all the opposites.” So yeah, Mercury should have a redemption arc that will probably be pivotal in the story.

If we follow the self-actualization endgame of spiritual alchemy, with true life and wisdom as the metaphorical philosopher’s stone here, I think it’s likely Mercury becomes more himself--going from being Lead to Iron (as he’s clearly spiraling right now, but also has a connection to Emerald) to Mercury. I would also suspect he’d get his semblance back to establish that he’s his “own person” (a major recurring theme of RWBY), and while, like with Yang and her arm, I don’t think he’ll get new legs, I think it’s pretty likely his semblance will enable him to fly (since mythical Mercury, you know, flies). 

Silver-Moon

Associated character(s): Ruby Rose (also Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna, Oscar Pine, Jaune Arc, and Summer Rose).

The most important character here is Ruby, obviously. She’s our MC and titular character! But Weiss, Jaune, Blake, Summer, and Oscar are all addressed here. But I think it’s obvious that Ruby’s defining trait is her silver eyes. They got her noticed by Ozpin and sent to Beacon early, they’re the reason Salem is targeting her, they’re what could destroy her (turning into a Grimm) or save the world (what’s going to happen). Silver is noted to be “pure” which is what other characters constantly comment Ruby is. 

Gold-Sun

Associated character(s): Oscar Pine (also Sun Wukong, Yang Xiao Long, Tai Xiao Long, Ruby Rose, Pyrrha Nikos, and maybe Jaune Arc)

The most important/obvious character here is Oscar. Oscar’s first name is a shade of gold and a type of fish that is most often brown or gold. He’s facing a similar dilemma to Ruby: the threat of merging forever with Ozpin (which clearly won’t happen; he needs to be his own person, as Ruby said). 

Both Ruby’s and Oscar’s individualizations are somehow instrumental to defeating Salem. 

#rwby #rwby meta #rwby vol 8 #oscar pine #mercury black #emerald sustrai #rwby theory #alchemy #james ironwood #weiss schnee #penny polendina #qrow branwen #ruby rose #ozpin #rwby volume eight

[sunlightinourheadlights]

HANANENE HUB SECRET SANTA FICS MASTERLIST

Happy holidays everyone! This year we did an art/fanfiction secret santa swap on the Hananene Hub, and here is the masterlist of the christmas/winter themed fanfics! They are in alphabetical order according to fic title. Thank you to the amazing writers on this list and for everyone who contributed in the event. 

[WARNING: it may be the holidays, but do check the ratings and read the tags for each fic carefully. Not all the fics are fluff. This is still JSHK after all.]

Hope you all enjoy!

Give Me Your Stars to Hold by sincerelyand (me!) for Rapid (@rapidfur) -  If Nene knew one thing, it was how difficult it was being childhood friends with the Yugi Twins.

Honey, Don't Feed Me, I Will Come Back by thebonezone  (@fangirlingforeverz) for sincerelyand (me) - Nene wants to marry a prince more than anything.And what price will she pay for that wish? (Bluebeard AU, Aged Up Characters) 

Imperfect by thatsrightdollface (@thatsrightdollface) for hopesartcastle ( @thehopeelias)- When she was young, Aoi Akane had liked the funny-shaped, imperfect sugar cookies best of all.

if anything happens i love you by zileywrites (@muffindounat​​)  for teafloof (@teafloof) - Amane was a young precious boy with stardust running through his veins and galaxies swirling in his soul, who had been trying in vain to protect himself from the harsh realities of life. [or, three times Yugi Aname felt utterly alone in december after the passing of Tsukasa, and one time he didn’t.]

Lemon and Peach (and you and me under the mistletoe) by Baronesscmd (SweeterThanYourDarkestSin) (@baronesscmd) for HanaNoHanabira -  Tsukasa has a plan. It may involve threatening his brother's little assistant and making Natsuhiko's life a living nightmare, but if Sakura is happy in the end it will all be worth it.

No Place Like (Someone Else's) Home for the Holidays by Hammsters (@uglierdaikon) for Sharkbytez - Yashiro Nene is down on her luck; dumped and alone in a new city where she knows no one, she's preparing to spend her holidays alone for the first time. That is, until the flirtatious bartender at the restaurant where she works makes her an offer she might regret accepting- an invitation to spend Christmas with his family instead.

Once Upon A December (Things I Almost Remember) by banjjakz (@banjjakz) for piyo_nii (@piyo-nii) -  Aoi went missing last Christmas, and the chilling bite of the new year rendered her case cold to the touch. This year, on December first, Nene opens an anonymous Christmas card to find a lock of deep purple hair. Terrified, jaded, and freshly incensed, she teams up with the boy next door to track down her best friend before it's too late.

partly cloudy, chance of snow by sourlemoncandy (@sour-lemon-candy) for Naomi -  Amane is right in at least one respect- his apartment is close to her job, vacant, and perhaps most importantly, he makes the best chocolate chip cookies she's ever tasted. 

Pining Amongst the Pines by corologs  (@corologs​) for Cheyenne / Anu (@anubis-005) -  Just as Prince Hanako had found his favorite little gardener, news of an accident brings about an opportunity for Nene Yashiro to prove her usefulness.

snowfall and frostbite by lilaflo (@istoleyourboat) for sourlemoncandy ( @sour-lemon-candy) - After blossoming into a stunning, young college student, Yashiro Nene decides to push all her past regrets and mistakes behind her.That is... until her graduating class decides to throw a high school reunion on Christmas Eve. After finding out that her ex will be there, Nene seeks out a fake boyfriend to spare herself the humiliation.And who better than her best friend, Yugi Amane.

Time, Space, and the Worlds in Between by milkteamoon (@spades-queen) for Indigo_Floof (@indigosienna) -  Amane Yugi is an astronaut stationed on a planet far away when he catches a glimpse of something he's not meant to see.

the golden age of something good by piyo_nii (@piyo-nii) for Hammsters (@uglierdaikon) - Under the silver-streaked heavens, you pray to whoever is listening. You vow to become someone she can come to rely on. Someone who can protect her, someone she can learn to love.(That night, you dream of Yashiro’s shy smile and the clicking sound of a turning lock, and that can only be an omen.)

The Greatest Gifts Come in the Most Unorthodox Places by insipidenvy (@insipidenvy) for paopu_moo (@macey-wacey) - Hanako and Tsukasa spend Christmas catching up on lost time and opportunities. The past and present couldn't be any more different.

Threads of Nettle, Threads of Gold by Indigo_Floof (@indigosienna) for thebonezone (@fangirlingforeverz) -  Nene's siblings have been cursed to turn into swans, and as for the solution...she literally can't say anything about it.

When you get together with your friend to bake, it's usually a good idea to get the recipes beforehand by Chykori  for Miko (Mito Mitochondria) -  Amane and Nene cooking together at Amane’s house! With no adult or Kou supervision. Lots of fluff, no angst allowed here in this household. At one point they do pull up Kou on the videochat because he is on a vacation trip with his family and couldn’t make it to their baking day.

Please make sure to leave the incredible authors kudos and comments! Everyone worked very hard! ❤️

#jibaku shounen hanako kun #jshk #toilet bound hanako kun #tbhk #fanfic #jshk secret santa 2020 #all of you are amazinggggg #steadily making my way through the list

[lucycola]

The Lone Survivor; Spock x Fem!Reader

Premise: Fem!Reader accidentally bonds with Spock when rescued from her own starship crash. Hijinks and unbelievable plot points ensue for my own pleasure. Not sure if I’m writing mind melds right but eff it.

WARNINGS: Mentions of bodies and blood. Movie amnesia. Paternal Bones figure to reader. You get the drift. Movie sci-fi healing and medical procedures. It’s StarTrek, what do you expect.

Part 1: There Was Something In Everything About You

You still felt the cold from the tundra below enveloping your body. Your little body shivered under the thermal blanket and a calloused, albeit gentle touch sponged your forehead. Your eyes fluttered open and you half expected your vision to still be clouded with harsh whiteness.

Why? you thought. There’s no snow, Why would there be? You didn’t know where you were.

Soft, faded blue eyes smiled gravely in your blurred line of vision. “Welcome back,” said a weathered voice. “Take it easy now,” it instructed firmly as you moved to sit up right. Your whole body roared in ache, especially in your left leg.

“I’m your doctor, Doctor McCoy,” said the man in blue, his hand moving to your shoulder. A woman, donned in blue as well, hovered behind him with a curious expression. “You’re on the Enterprise.”

Your voice was scratchy at first, but found itself buried in the base of your throat, tumbling out sloppily. “Hello, my doctor, Doctor McCoy.”

He smiled gingerly, “Do you remember what happened?” It was the first of a long line of question that only rendered blank stares and subtle shakings of the head. ”You were found near the wreckage of the starship the U.S.S Calvary.”

No, you didn’t know what happened or what happened to your ship the U.S.S. Calvary.

The name felt like a knife in your chest and you could only give your doctor, Doctor McCoy, and his nurse, Christine Chapel, watery blinks.

Hell. You didn’t even know your own name.

x

A long series of tests and more questions continued. Your leg had been broken in three places (to which your doctor, Doctor McCoy, had expertly mended shortly after your arrival) and you were suffering from an awful concussion resulting in-

“-acute post traumatic amnesia, Jim,” your doctor’s voice rattled you from a sticky, uncomfortable slumber. “I don’t think you’ll be getting much from her.”

“The crew is still salvaging data from the wreckage. There’s no telling what’s been lost or if we’ll even find out the cause of the wreck,” said the other. “It’s worth a shot.”

A golden man approached you with sunshine behind his expression, and along something a little sad. Like the doctor he interrogated you with similar questions, some a little trickier than earlier. Thought provoking and pressing. Desperation. However, his voice was soft and made you feel welcome. 

“If there’s anything you can think of or if you remember something please send for me right away-” the golden man’s brow furrowed, “Still no name, Bones?”

“Not yet.”

“He’s been calling her kitty,” Christine said.

The doctor grumbled, “Well, she’s got big cat eyes. Looks a lot like my Jo.”

“Jo?” you inquired innocently.

“His daughter,” replied the golden man.

You hummed sweetly.

“If you remember anything,” the golden man said in response with his own dazzling smile, “Please. You are the only one.”

The realization hadn’t yet touched you and you only offered a dizzy smile, “Yes, Captain Kirk of the starship Enterprise. I will.”

He exchanged an amused look with his ‘bones’ and turned on his heel to leave.

You still felt cold. The palm of your right hand itched. Neither of the man, blue or gold, were the right one. You could feel a tiny pull in the back of your head. A warm place, away from the tundra or the medbay, both stark white and freezing.

Where was the right one? What an odd thought. What even was the right one? You didn’t even understand your own thoughts. Everything was foggy and heavy. You struggled to be alert, at least of all receptive to everyone’s courtesy. They wanted to know so much and you wanted to help, but you knew nothing. You were an empty cannister of what you used to be.

Except that pull, that sensation in the back of your brain. It was a palm, bigger than your own, waiting for you somewhere on the ship.

“She’s shivering again, Doctor. And crying.”

“Take it easy now, kitty cat,” he said quietly, “This will help you sleep.”

“Yes, Doctor Bones.”

x

The hypo didn’t help you sleep. You tossed and wracked in a freezing sweat, crying, still stuck in the tundra. Masses of dark, solid ice surrounded you, in bellies of red and pink snow.

You are the only one.

Funny, twisted shapes of dark ice with bulging eyes and gaping mouths.

How? How did you only survive with a broken leg and a bruised head? Luck?

A hand reached out, to you, anchoring onto your right. An angel. 

You could hear his own self, humming in the back of your mind - a explosion of foreign presence. He had moved closer and you were pulled from sleep once again.

“...a few of the logs have been retrieved, but have sustained partial damage that can be corrected. A personnel roster has yet to be obtained from the data. It is imperative that such data is retrieved before Starfleet launches an official investigation.”

A warmth enveloped your entire bodily, tingling and washing away the tundra.

“And why is that, Mister Spock?” the captain asked, suspicion lining his inquiry.

“When I came into tactile contact with the survivor I was able to acquire personal information,” the angel replied in turn, “Lieutenant Y/N L/N of the botanical division.”

“L/N,” the captain hummed in assent. The name felt shapeless and empty in your mouth. It was yours, but still didn’t feel like it.

“Anything else?”

“ I was able to retrieve memory fragments from the lieutenant as well. I read large amounts of the human emotions guilt and fear. It can be deducted the lieutenant may have had some indirect involvement with the crash.”

“Why is it crucial to launch our investigation before Starfleet?” the captain asked with a forming smirk .

There was a pregnant pause.

Mister Spock had noticed you finally, sitting up right staring widely at the both of them. The warmth intensified in your right hand. A muted sensation creeped in the back of your mind, barely tasting of curiosity and embarrassment?

You could remember it. The ship. The crew. The ship crashing into the icy tundra below, hundreds of bodies being ripped from the deck and into the sky. You had held on somehow, strapping yourself in right before contact.

You awoke to blistering cold and sharp wind, tangling your hair. You crawled.

Twisting angles of dark, icy shapes dotted the snow like landmarks. White snow. Red snow.

The crew. Four-hundred men crewmen dead.  

Your scream was silent, wrenching in anguish. How could this happen?

“...located another crewmember for corpse retrieval.”

You moved to scream again, still silent, croaking in the back of your throat. You reached out.

“I negate my last statement, Captain.”

“Why is that, Mister Spock?”

“She is alive.”

You could only see a blurred version of your savior hovering behind your outstretched limb. 

“Do not be afraid,” he had said, hand enclosing around your iced one, red and raw.

You knew him in an instant.

Do not be afraid. The Lord has great favour with thee, whispered in the back of your mind. A loose memory.

Despite the terrible memory you smiled at him now, eyes big with awe and yet still fear.

“T’hy’la,” he said in a sharp tone, almost reprimanding.

The word was foreign to you, but it felt like an insult and your brow creased.

“I must remove myself immediately,” the monotone voice of your savior said almost hastily. His statement felt like a slap in the face. 

“Doctor Bones, I want to go back to sleep now.” Your voice was broken, your face buried in your hands. Two sets of hands braces themselves on your wracking body, emitting little sobs.

“Kitty, what’s wrong? Did that hobgoblin upset you?” Bones asked.

Nurse Chapel patted your shoulder, “Now, now, Y/N take some deep breaths. Mister Spock is the one who found you. There’s no need to be scared of him.”

“I want to see Mister Spock,” you said, between each little hiccup, “I need to-”

“Jim, I don’t know what he’s done, but-” Bones began.

“I’ll go...” Kirk looked down at you, befuddled by both of your reactions,”...investigate, Bones. Hold down the fort.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Bones retorted.

x

“I want to get up now.”

“It’s only been forty-eight hours, Y/N,” Bones replied, residing as his chair across from your bed. “Your tibia, fibula, and femur were all broken. I’m a doctor, not a magician. You can start on crutches tomorrow.”

“I don’t like that.”

“Like what?”

“Y/N,” you stuck out your tongue, “It doesn’t sound right. I liked kitty better.”

He chuckled, “Like I said, we’ll get you walking tomorrow. After the investigation clears we can take you to the nearest starbase and contact your family.”

You frowned, “And leave the ship?”

“That’s the idea,” he replied, “We’ve already been contacted a recovery crew. After they salvage what they can and help us with-” He winced, “With funeral proceedings we can help you along. We’ve got a number of wonderful psychologists on the ship. You can speak to on if you’d like. Might even help you regain some of that memory.”

Anyone who even spent a day on board the Enterprise and partook in any of its zany adventures would need to speak to a therapist. Bones had meant to say ‘body retrieval’, but after seeing you cry many times he had learned to be careful with his words. Poor, poor thing. 

“What will happen to my crew? They will have a funeral?”

“I’m sure Starfleet will do something to honor them once the investigation is over.”

“Investigation?”

“Yes,” he treaded carefully, knowing you were already suspect at this point, “A crash like that so unpreceded without...any malfunction is strange. Especially with only one survivor.”

Your brow furrowed, “I know it’s strange, Doctor Bones. I wish I could remember. I remember their faces. And-”

Mister Spock. 

“I want to see him.”

It was the fifth time you pressed the issue and Bones internally sighed. “I know. Spock is busy at the moment trying to clear your name and I’ll be busy trying to clear your health. I prescribe no stressful situations or conversations-and trust me, he can be very vexing. Now, it’s time for your dinner.”

x

You had slept often during your time in the medbay and faking it wasn’t difficult. You had long noticed the nurse working your bed had long dosed at his stations and the others were few, far in-between. 

With eyes still softly closed, you in-took an even breath. 

I want to see you, you whispered inside. 

You felt the warm lull in your right palm intensify, matching the newly occupied space in your mind. 

I must know what’s going on. Mister Spock, see me, please, sir. 

The warmth grew to an unbearable itch and you figured to follow its meaning. With a gentle form you moved up, careful not to stir the nurse and reached for the crutches. 

It was hard to hobble along at first, but you found you way slowly, the warmth in your brain egging you on in the right direction-at least you hoped it was.

The end of that tunnel was waiting for you somewhere-a subside to that itch. A sleek, silver door with a doorbell of sorts. You rang it. 

It was waiting for you on the other side.

The door slid open.

He was indeed waiting for you, standing in the middle of his quarters. His his left hand was a little orange bar. Recovered.

“Lieutenant,” he greeted evenly.

“Mister Spock,” you looked at his left hand, “Are you still mad at me?”

“Negative. I believe I was never, as you humans put it, mad at you.”

You didn’t press further. You felt a trembling igniting in your ankles. The thing in back of your mind clutched at the orange tape in his hand. A look. A see. 

Guilty, guilty guilty, the thoughts tore anxiously.

“Do you have something you want to show me?” you asked.

He nodded curtly and took long strides with his long, long legs, to the computer and slipped the tape in. “This was only recoverable footage from the Calvary. Unfortunately for your case it happens to also be the most damning. I’ve been working most of the day and night cycle to piece it together.”

The screen spit static to life as it conjured up the Calvary’s bridge and you. You were in what you were found in: your blue uniform dress with long sleeved black fatigues underneath. You suddenly remembered being cold that day-even though you had no reason to be.

Something in your hand was slender and long. A large pipet and you jammed the glass into the neck of your Captain before firing your phaser at another crewmember.

Your brain felt light and frothy and you were caught by a steel grip before making friends with the floor.

“It wasn’t me,” you heard someone say groggily.

Spock steadied his grip, “Explain, Lieutenant, when it is you that the film portrays. His voice felt icy.

“I don’t know how,” you whispered.

It was silent a moment.

“I can look. But it will intensify the bond already at present and in the future that may prove unsatisfactory for you.”

You didn’t understand, offering a furrowed brow, but nodded to give him permission.

With his left arm anchored underneath you, his right hand featherily skimmed the side of your face. 

“Our minds...are now one.”

“It wasn’t me.”

“Indeed,” he whispered in a strained voice, dipping further into your conscious. “It was not.”

PART TWO

#startrek #star trek #tos #the original series #tos star trek #spock #tos spock #mister spock #mr spock #s'chn t'gai spock #spock x reader #spock x fem!reader #leonard mccoy #doctor mccoy #dr mccoy #bones #captain kirk #james t kirk #jim kirk #christine chapel #chapter title lyric is from Player's Baby Come Back

[elencelebrindal]

Female Cloths that have no reason to exist

You all know what I’m talking about, right? Yeah, you do. You absolutely do. 

I’m talking about three specific instances of Silver Cloths that, instead of looking like armor and acting like armor, are more like... oh, you’re a girl? Let’s show that body! Let’s have nothing but a pathetic excuse of armor that should you try to fight will have you easily stabbed in the guts. 

What pisses me off is not the (bad) design itself. It’s the fact that the Silver Cloths are described are armors that cover the body more than the Bronze Cloths. Yet, we have Marin, Shain and Yuzuriha wearing nothing.  These Cloths should adapt to the body of the wearer, right? Well, I want you to imagine how those pathetic armors would adapt to a man’s body. It’s so painfully clear that those armors (or lack of armors) were designed without keeping practicality in mind, but just to have something revealing.

This is a really long post, so I’m hiding it under the “read more”, but I wanted to put my thoughts out there because I’m honestly tired. 

We have example of functional armor. We have June (who’s still better in Awakening as far as design goes, imo), and we have Thetis. 

So first of all, let’s take a look at those good ones, shall we?

This is, in my opinion, one of the best armors I’ve seen worn by a woman on this series. It’s not different from an armor you would see a man wear, just adapted to fit a woman’s body. It has everything; gauntlets, boots, cuirass, pauldrons... nothing’s missing.  A perfect example of how an armor should look. Not a comparison for a Silver Cloth, because the probability of a Silver Cloth having less pieces is high, but a comparison between a good decision and a bad decision. 

This is really good for a Bronze Cloth. The amount of armor, given the description of those Cloths, is perfect. She has everything, and at the same time not too much, perfect for an armor of that rank, since we know that the Bronze Cloth cover the smallest amount of the body when compared to Silver and Gold.  The only thing I don’t like is that she has an impossible “catsuit” (I really don’t have any better ways to call that) under it. It would make way more sense if the upper part was more like a tank top, than whatever sorcery is going on. You ever tried to wear sleeveless anything? You know that stuff slips off continuously.  Aside from that, she’s amazing. 

The main reason why I wanted to present these examples to you is to clarify that I’m not complaining about how much of the body is shown. There’s plenty more male characters that literally are unable to stay dressed on this show (Shiryu, I’m talking to you, wear a goddamn shirt for once).  I’m complaining about how unfair it is to have female characters being so... in a way, objectified. We have good examples, so why not using those examples for characters that should need more than what they’re given?

To make this even more clear, another armor that has no reason to exist is this:

Because honestly, a Surplice covering nothing of importance is really useful. 

I’m focusing on the female characters here because, while half a Surplice is bad, is not as bad as women wearing Silver Cloths that are supposed to be a better protection than Bronze Cloths and instead they get to wear metallic underwear.

This little armor: 

only makes sense for a Bronze Saint. They are supposed not to have a lot of it. And yet, this example in particular has more pieces than the classic Eagle Cloth. It does nothing, but it literally covers more than a Silver Cloth. This armor also has boots, of course. 

Let’s tackle the problem, shall we?

Try to convince me that she’s not wearing just a goddamn metal bra. Come on.  This is not armor.  This is Marin opening her closet, finding one of her fanciest bras, and wearing it alongside those gifts that are actual armor parts. 

The smallest Bronze Cloth of the classic series has a large total of pieces. Boots, gauntlets, some kind of cuirass, pauldrons, knee guards, helmet (in Saint Seiya the definition of helmet is weird, by now we know). Some of them also have those pieces that in a suit of armor could be faulds or tassets, some of them have simple belts, some have cuissess. Give or take 1 to 3 pieces, basically.  The smallest proper Silver Cloth has the same pieces, only they cover much more of the body. Or at least, they should, but we have examples of Silver Cloths literally being the same as Bronze Cloths. It makes me kinda frustrated, but knowing that those armors are stronger gives me a bit of peace.  The best Silver Cloth is the Lyra Cloth, obviously, since it actually matches the description accordingly. 

So... we have what? 2 for the boots, 2 for the gauntlets, 1 for cuirass, 2 for the pauldrons, 2 for the knee guards, 1 for the helmet, and give or take 1-3 pieces for the “optional” ones I mentioned. It’s 10 pieces of armor. 

How many pieces is the Eagle Cloth composed of? 0 boots, 1 gauntlet, 1 breastplate (in absence of other words to call that), 1 plauldron, 2 knee guards, 1 helmet.  It’s 6 pieces of armor.  She’s supposed to have the same, if not more, compared to a Bronze. 

Not only that, have you seen what she’s wearing under it? How is that even remotely comfortable in battle? You know how many times that weird... what the hell is that? A tight high sock? would slip down during a fight? Unless she glued it in place, I highly doubt it’s a good fighting outfit.  It would have been better for her to wear either a single catsuit, or even to keep the leotard but have both of the red tights (preferably leggings uh, you don’t go to battle in tights) be a full piece. 

The manga armor actually has one more piece. It’s not much, but it’s something. It resembles way more how other Cloth’s are treated, when the breastplate is so small.  However, it’s still missing boots. There’s literally no other Cloth, save for Ophiuchus, that doesn’t have boots. What now, they are too much for a woman to handle? June and Thetis have boots.  Marin gets leg warmers and shoes she has to personally provide, apparently, because her Cloth is a discount one. I get that it has to resemble an eagle, but come on. There’s totems depicting smaller animals that have more stuff. 

This artwork I found is from CamilleAddams on Deviantart:

See how easy is to give her a proper armor? It’s still missing the boots, but it’s already much better. It looks like a Silver Cloth, now. And this is only one of the many “updates” I’ve seen made by artists way more talented that I could ever aspire to be. 

This is my own sketch of a proper Eagle Cloth:

Is this really so unrealistic? To have an actually good Cloth for a Silver Saint?

Now, time to take a look at Shaina.

How many pieces is this armor comprised of? 1 breastplate, 2 pauldrons, 0 boots, 1 gauntlet, 1 helmet, 2 knee guards. A total of 7 pieces, just one more that Eagle. 3 less than a basic Bronze Cloth. 

The same exact discourse applies to the Ophiuchus Cloth. Copy-paste what I wrote for the Eagle Cloth and use it here.  Also the hot pink leg warmers paired with yellow HEELS (which yes, are stupid), green leggings and brown leotard are a spectacular combo. Who in the fresh hell decided the colors for her, this is a disaster more than her Cloth. 

At least she actually has no gaps between leotard and (hopefully) leggings.

I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but the Omega Ophiuchus Cloth is so much better than this, at least in base concept. The art is as ugly as my face in the morning, but the concept is legit. 

Look at this, ridiculous but PROPER armor. 

Once again, the manga has one more piece. It looks like she’s not wearing shoes, but it’s the manga, I give that a pass. 

But this particular Cloth makes me unbelievably angry, and you know why? Because the Ophiuchus Gold Cloth exists. And the Ophiuchus Gold Cloth is the proof that this thing doesn’t need to be so useless, because if that can be proper armor, this could be as well.  It’s a design choice, and it’s a poor one to say the least. 

Look at the Gold Ophiuchus Cloth (render by LadyHeinstein on Deviantart):

Look at this, and tell me that a decent suit of armor couldn’t be conjured for the Silver Cloth as well.  The Ophiuchus constellation is literally a man holding a snake. There’s no excuse for not having a human-like Cloth like, I don’t know, the Andromeda Cloth.  Instead, Shaina gets a version that’s not even half a human figure, with nothing to wear but discounted armor that honestly should go straight back to the shop where it came from. 

This is what makes me even angrier when it comes to this particular Cloth. 

Again, this is an “updated” version of the Ophiuchus Cloth by CamilleAddams on Deviantart:

See how much better it is? How much more realistic it looks, when it comes to Saint armor? It looks like a proper Silver Cloth like this, even with no boots. 

In comparison, here’s my own sketch (much lower quality, I know) of the Cloth:

It’s not that difficult! Just have them wear the same stuff their companions wear, is this so much to ask?

But now we come to the best one. Peak character design. So amazingly appropriate for battle that it’s stunning. Crane Yuzuriha from The Lost Canvas. 

What. The. Absolute. Fuck. 

How is that a Silver Cloth? How is that a Cloth? Come on!

Leaving aside the fact that I hate how she doesn’t wear the mask (I made a post about this whole issue, back in the day, I’ll try to link it as soon as I can), she has basically no armor on expect for her legs and arms.  Whatever bullshit is going on on her chest is everything but armor.  She has sandals, for gods sake. Sandals. You don’t want to be a Saint wearing sandals, this is not Ancient Romans having wars for breakfasts, this is a supernatural warrior constantly kicking the shit out of stone and trees (generally speaking). How are sandals something appropriate for a Saint? This is the same exact stuff I wrote for the skirts of the Saintias, it’s not appropriate for the setting. 

But let’s leave this, and let’s tackle what she (doesn’t) wear under her armor. Yuzuriha, my dear, I know that you have abs of steel and you want to show off, but that’s an excellent way to get injured all over with no effort whatsoever. Unless you have invulnerable skin, you’d want to wear something better than booty shorts and bandages that are apparently glued on her boobs. Wear at least something like June, if you don’t want to have sleeves.  This is a design flaw, not something beautiful. The concept is good on its own, but a Saint should NOT be dressed like that. They’re constanly being thrown at whatever surface is the hardest at the moment. Imagine your bare skin sliding at the speed of sound on rocks and dirt.  It’s not only unpractical, is technically dangerous. And I get it, this is an anime, everyone is invulnerable unless blood is needed, but even then this is utterly ridiculous. 

And now, the most ridiculous thing of them all: the breastplate.  It’s literally two sheets of silver feathers apparently glued to her skin. Nothing more. It’s not armor, it just... it’s literally nothing. She’s better off not wearing it, at this point, because it’s useless. 

She would just need a better breastplate/cuirass for that Cloth to be appropriate. Everything else is fine (minus the heels, but at this point why do I even try).  In comparison, a male Saint wearing that Cloth would probably end up shirtless, either the Cloth adjusts itself to the body or not. Who in their right mind would go in battle shirtless????? (yeah yeah, Shiryu and Dohko, but those two have armor on when they don’t act like strippers, at least pay them good money dammit). 

What infuriates me is knowing how the other Silver Cloths are like. It’s painfully obvious that Yuzuriha had to be the edgy woman with revealing clothes and armor, when you look at the REAL Silver Cloths of this series. 

Those shrtless dudes also want trouble, but at least they are somewhat covered. They still need to wear a goddamn shirt, but they also have more armor.  Why they can be THIS normal, but Yuzuriha has to look like she lost half her armor in a dumpster fire and tried to make to with the remnants?

I really like her as a character, and I don’t mind her wearing what she wears (dude, she’s can afford to dress like that, I wish), but the Cloth is terrible. 

The women in Saint Seiya Omega were better equipped than these three poor souls. I don’t like that series at all, and I forgot at least half of it (if not more) since the last time (aka the first) I watched it, but they do have more properly designed armors.  These three - Marin, Shaina, and Yuzuriha - are a perfect example of what you don’t have to do when designing armor for female characters, unless you don’t actually need the armor and it just aesthetic.  June and Thetis, on the other hand, are the perfect example of what you HAVE to do when designing armor for female characters, following the circumstances and the setting. 

Thank you for reading my (way too long) essay. Have a good day. 

#saint seiya #i cavalieri dello zodiaco #los caballeros del zodiaco #os cavaleiros do zodiaco #knights of the zodiac #the lost canvas #silver saints #bronze saints #eagle marin #ophiuchus shaina #crane yuzuriha

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Day 5 Birthday Plot Bunnies 2

If you want this to become my next WIP, be sure to shower it with lots of love!!  🥰 💖 All the story starters will be linked back to this masterpost.

Title: For the Love of My Husband

Summary: Bilbo is a thief and a conman who has tricked Thorin, Crown Prince of Erebor, to marry him as an escape from a tight spot. He thought their marriage was happily enough, but Thorin feels a disconnect from the hobbit he’s married. To appease his family and strengthen their bond, Thorin asks Bilbo to take the Trial of Souls with him. Problem is, Bilbo doesn’t want Thorin to know anything about him because they are most assuredly not Ones. And if Thorin learns the truth, Bilbo will find himself back in the streets or worse...

In a darkened pub deep under the kingdom of Erebor, a hobbit and a dwarf squared off. The waiting crowd was near silent as they waited to see what would happen next. The dark haired beast of a dwarf looked fairly confident as he shared a smirk with his two friends directly behind him.

“What’ll it be, Took? Fold or settle?”

The hobbit nonchalantly lifted his overturn cup to sneak a peek at the two dice lying inside. 

“How about I raise you instead?”

It was silent for a moment before the dwarf, Drulik, burst into laughter followed by his cronies.

“Raise? You have nothing left to bet with.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure of that.” Bilbo stated before pulling out a silver harp-shaped brooch with thin golden strings.

The dwarves surrounding the gamblers all began murmuring at once, some trying to lean in for a closer view.

“Is that…?” One of Drulik’s dwarves gaped.

“Yes.” Bilbo announced calmly. “The Courting Gift of our dearly departed queen, Mahal rest her soul.”

“How did you get that?” Drulik demanded.

Bilbo gave him a wane smile as he tucked back into his vest with a pat. “It doesn’t matter. The question you should be asking is how much do you think it’s worth?”

The gambling den awaited Drulik’s long drawn out answer. It almost made the hobbit want to roll his eyes at the melodrama. However, after years on the streets, he knew a good show could sometimes be the difference between success and failure. And Bilbo didn’t fail. Finally, Drulik pulled out another bag, spilling the golden coins onto the pile between them.

“Settle.” Drulik demanded before revealing the contents under his cup.

The crowd cheered and whistled much to Drulik’s ego at the combined total of eleven from his dice. Nine Rings was a gambling game loved by Durin’s Folk and Men alike with a very simple premise. Highest total won. So you bet and bluff to convince your opponent that you have as close to twelve beneath the cup as possible. However, there was one small exception. Nine always trumped any other number. Therefore, when Bilbo lifted his cup to reveal the five and four, there was a near frenzy of excitement. Drulik was rendered speechless as Bilbo lifted his pint in cheer before downing the ale all in one go. Producing a sack from his coat pocket, he raked all the golden coins towards him.

“Well lads, this has been more excitement than any hobbit can take, but I think I’m going to leave now while my fortunes are in my favor.”

“You cheated.” Drulik growled. “You had to have.”

“Check my dice if you wish.” Bilbo offered with a shrug.

The tavern owner, Nifror, who ran as honorable a den as one could for thieves and ruffians was at their table in a flash. Bilbo had heard a tale that the last dwarf who cheated at the game got their loaded dice pinned, one to each hand, with a knife made by Nifror’s wife. He threw the dice a few times and each time they landed with a different number. He shrugged.

“The hobbit’s clean.”

“But that’s impossible.” One of Drulik’s own gaped.

“Yeah, we loaded them ourselves!” The other snarled.

There was a pause and then Old Nifror was on them in a flash. Some moved to help the old barkeep out. The rest roared and placed bets on the winner. Meanwhile, Bilbo used this as the perfect opportunity to sneak away. He dropped the loaded dice he had smuggled into his pocket on the ground with a snort. Like he would be that stupid. Now most would have worried walking around with that much gold around the dregs of Erebor’s underworld. Fortunately, Bilbo was a professional at remaining quiet and unseen. A talent he had been forced to pick up early in his life. Which is why he nearly screamed when a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Make a good haul?” The dwarf smirked.

Bilbo turned around with a glare. “You know you don’t have to be so smug every time you manage to catch me off guard.”

Nori, Bilbo’s oldest and dearest friend, just raised an eyebrow as he tried and failed to hide the mischievous superiority oozing from his every pore.

“Just like to remind you, you’re not the best just yet.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes as he continued on his way knowing the dwarf was following.

“We both know I was headed to your place eventually so is there a reason you’re bugging me now?”

“Can I not worry over the sake of my friend?” Nori gasped overdramatically.

Bilbo snorted but made no arguments or agreements.

“Well, if I were coming to find you, it might have something to do with the fact that your husband finished up his duties early today to surprise you.”

The coin he was holding nearly slipped from his suddenly numb fingers.

“Valar above!” Bilbo swore. “That dwarf. He’s positively incorrigible!”

“He’s in love.” Nori pointed out.

Bilbo scoffed. “Love. Well shit, looks like you’re going to have to take this to our hiding place for me.”

Bilbo shoved the bag of gold into the dwarf’s chest before power walking towards the secret tunnels. Nori kept stride with him, clearly not done delivering bad news.

“Are you anywhere close to the right amount?”

“I’ve nearly two-thirds at this point.”

“Bilbo, you only have a week left.”

“I’m well aware, Nori! Maybe it's enough to...buy me more time.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t the whole point of you marrying some rich noble supposed to give you easy access to the treasury?”

“It was, but there was one teeny detail we didn’t take into account.”

“What’s that?”

Bilbo paused, his face falling into a grimace. “In-laws.”

***

One of the first things Bilbo and Nori did upon their rushed and unplanned move to Erebor from Ered Luin was scope out the best places for a quick getaway. They just so happened to make kind with a chatty miner named Bofur who, while deep in his cup, told them that the royal wing originally was meant to be on the other side of the mountain. When the architects realized the disadvantage of having the royal family so far from the guards’ posts and war meeting rooms, rather than just move the furniture back down only to go back up on the correct side, they cut unmapped tunnels around the outside of the mountain. It also had the added advantage of getting their monarchy out quicker in the case of a coup if the knowledge hadn’t been lost through time. It was perfect for the thieves’ needs. In almost no time at all, Nori and Bilbo had found the tunnels and utilized them fully. 

Something the hobbit was thankful for now as he flew down the tunnel to get back to his room. He welcomed the blast of mountain wind to rapidly cool the sweat on his face before ducking back into the opposite entrance. There was a small alcove where Bilbo’s fancier clothes lay and he all but threw himself out of his worn threads for the finer silks and cotton. The last thing he did was pocket the brooch before sprinting back down the tunnel braiding and beading his hair on the run. Once he was back in the royals’ wing, he ducked his head out to make sure the coast was clear, and then silently made his way to his suite. After closing the door behind him, Bilbo relaxed against it, heaving a sigh of relief.

“And just where have you been, Husband of Mine?”

Bilbo prided himself on the fact that he did not squeak even if he did jump nearly two feet in the air. Thorin, Prince of Erebor, was lounging in the armchair by the fireplace looking rather pleased with himself. Bilbo attempted to calm his racing heart as he stepped forward, plastering what he hoped to be a loving grin on his face.

“Just a walk on the cliffs with Nori. Surely, you would not deny this hobbit the feel of fresh air and sunshine?”

Thorin stood at that point, meeting him about halfway. His thumb gently caressed Bilbo’s cheek.

“If I had it my way, I would deny you nothing, ukradê (my greatest heart).”

Bilbo hummed in practiced delight as he met his husband’s lips with his own. The hobbit was at least content with the knowledge that as far as dwarves went, Thorin was stunningly handsome. Not a sentiment necessarily shared with others of his race. Which worked out just fine for Bilbo as it left a prince of all things, uncommitted and available.

“By the way, look what I found this morning.” Bilbo stepped back with a teasing smile as he produced the brooch from his pocket.

“My mother’s brooch!” Thorin gaped as he took it reverently. “Where…?”

“It was under my bed. You must have dropped it when you paid me a surprise visit last night.”

Thorin smirked as he latched onto Bilbo’s hips. “I remember the night well.”

Oh, and he was a really, really good bed partner. No, Bilbo was well aware he could have it much worse. It was just the dwarf’s nauseating romanticism that nearly caused him to roll his eyes more than once. Thorin gave him a long lingering kiss before he bent forward to press his forehead against Bilbo’s own. Their hands found their way into each other’s naturally interlocking.

“I promise, it won’t always be like this.” Thorin murmured when he finally pulled away, his blue eyes shining brightly.

Like this. The dwarf was so dramatic. It constantly made Bilbo feel like some player performing for the court. Heaving a sigh as he looked down between their conjoined hands. 

“We’ve been married for eight months, and two of those have been spent here in Erebor. If your family was going to accept me, they would have done so by now.”

Thorin released his hands so he could lift Bilbo’s chin to look at him.

“Don’t lose faith yet, amrâlimê (my love). I have a plan.”

It was a good thing Bilbo was a talented actor. He laughed, causing Thorin to smile.

“You have a plan? That sounds dangerous.”

“Tease all you want, but I have all the confidence in this plan.”

“Well, out with it. What have you come up with?”

Thorin shook his head teasingly. “You’ll have to wait. I want it to be a surprise.”

Bilbo linked his arms around the dwarf’s neck for leverage as he started showering him with kisses at his jaw, the corner of his mouth, and his throat.

“And I couldn’t persuade you to tell me any sooner?”

“You are cruel, thundanûd (tiny embrace).” Thorin moaned, his hands resting on Bilbo’s arms.

“It’s only cruel if you don’t accept the invitation.” Bilbo teased back as he pulled at the prince’s tunic to allow him access to his collarbone.

Thorin shuddered once with want before finding the strength to pull away. He grasped Bilbo’s hands again as he kissed him deeply as an apology.

“Later. There will be time later. But now...we are having dinner with my family.”

Bilbo’s building fire of lust was immediately doused, a small frown settled on his forehead that Thorin attempted to kiss away. Lovely, the in-laws.

It certainly wasn’t that Bilbo wanted them to like him. He could honestly care less. It was just their dislike of him that made it really difficult for him to do...well, much of anything. Thrain, still mourning the loss of his dead wife, remained suspicious and hardened against Bilbo for the sheer fact that he was a hobbit. Their marriage had yet to be announced to the Council or even the mountain in general. Keeping Bilbo out of the public eye was Thrain’s number one priority which was certainly no hardship. It was Frerin and Dis he had the biggest problems with. Thorin’s brother and sister, ever loyal to him, seemed to think Bilbo wasn’t good enough for the dwarf, and constantly had Balin, the royal advisor, keeping tabs on him. Bilbo was reluctant to admit the dwarf’s keen eyes and sharp wit, but it had taken quite a few of Bilbo’s best moves to lose his tails before entering the secret tunnels.

Therefore, coming together in the Royal Dining Room for “family dinners” was a...stilted affair. There were only two redeeming features to those evenings. One, it was always the best food Bilbo had ever eaten in his life. And two, Thorin’s nephews, Fili and Kili, were not the least bit bothered by him and had some story worth telling that took the edge of him for a little bit at least.

“And then the axe sailed through the air and straight into the boar’s head. So technically, technically we aren’t responsible for the mess in the trophy room.” Kili finished.

“No.” Vili, their father snorted. “Just responsible for startling the poor guard that set off the chain of events.”

“Well how were we supposed to know he was right there?” Fili defended.

Bilbo snorted in spite of himself. “Watch the shadows.”

He immediately tensed after he said it as he waited for the barrage of insults to be hurtled his way.

“Spoken like a true thief.” Dis sneered.

Yep, right on cue.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t corrupt my sons.” She continued.

“Namad…” Thorin warned softly.

Thrain’s hand met the tabletop in a harsh bang. “What have I said about speaking our language in front of the Halfling?!”

Bilbo sighed and turned his attention to his soup as the line of Durin flexed their tempers. Thorin rising to his defense, Dis and Thrain attempting to argue their points louder, Frerin leaving snide quips here and there, and Vili trying and failing to keep the peace. The joy of family dinners.

“Actually, while we’re on this subject, I have something to say.” Thorin demanded, his voice low and regal. “I will be gone the remainder of the week.”

Everyone, including Bilbo, froze and stared up at Thorin in relative confusion and outrage. The prince’s eyes were boring holes straight into his father whose scowl would be enough to frighten wargs off at this point.

“And just where will you be?” The king finally spat.

Thorin reached down for Bilbo’s hand making the hobbit supremely discomforted. Thorin’s eyes were soft and pleading though as they met his.

“We will be taking the Trial of Souls.”

“We’ll be doing what now?” Bilbo questioned.

“Thorin…” Dis murmured at a surprisingly subdued volume, her eyebrows knitted together.

“Finally! A sensible idea!” Frerin declared. 

All eyes rested on the brunette as he raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t you think? I mean, to put it bluntly, everyone at this table has been trying to convince Thorin out of this marriage in some way. When they don’t emerge from the tunnels together, that would be a pretty good indicator of the truth.”

“We haven’t. We like Bilbo.” Kili reminded softly.

Bilbo shot the troublemakers a quick smile of thanks. They were idiots, but they were sweet. Meanwhile, Thrain was rubbing his beard in thought before nodding once.

“Yes, this will do well. In fact, if you make it through all five chambers, I’ll hold a feast in honor and publically accept your union.”

Thorin nodded, still looking rather cross with his father. “As I’d hoped.”

Bilbo found he couldn’t take it anymore. “Now, wait! Wait just a minute! What is this...Trial of Souls?”

Thorin stared at his father for permission, and the king granted it almost the picture of satisfaction. Being a gambler, it made Bilbo largely nervous as Thorin turned back towards him.

“It’s a series of tests to prove two dwarves...or in our case, a dwarf and a hobbit, are Ones.”

Bilbo’s mouth opened and shut a couple of times, but no words were able to come out.

“Problem, Halfling?” Dis questioned with mock innocence.

“Thorin, a moment if you please.” Bilbo was finally able to say as he pulled his stone-headed husband out into the hall.

“Are you serious?!” He finally rounded on him.

“What?” Thorin questioned.

“Thorin, I…” Bilbo fought for the right words without making this worse. “I don’t understand. What exactly do we have to prove? We’re married. Shouldn’t that be enough?!”

Thorin sighed. “It should. You are correct, ibinê (my gem). But don’t you see? It’s perfect! My family will be satisfied by our success at the Trials, and it’ll be irrefutable evidence to the rest of the mountain if any rose to challenge us. And politics aside, I want this for us.”

“Us?” Bilbo repeated too numb to be completely in control of his mouth.

“Yes!” Thorin nodded eagerly. “Couples that pass the Trials of Souls find they become closer than ever. Our...relationship hasn’t been for very long, and I respect that your past is painful to you, but I want to know you azyungel (love of loves). I want to know everything there is to know about my husband, and share myself in return. What do you say?”

Now being a hardened thief, the hobbit knew a thing or two about how to get out of a seemingly hopeless situation. However, as his mind swirled and swirled around the damnable logic of Thorin’s decision, he found himself becoming dizzy and nauseated. That was it then. Bilbo was doomed. He had just enough time to get out a soft ‘nope’ before he fell over in a dead faint.

#birthdayplotbunnies #bagginshield #thilbo #starterdrabbles #Bilbo would be much happier if his husband would quit trying to love him

[tearlessrain]

Giant Masterlist of Cathar Facts (that I completely made up but nonetheless rigidly adhere to)

I am an unstoppable force and disney should have killed me when they had the chance (that chance was splash mountain when I was seven and as you can see I survived).

Under a break because it is way too long and covers really quite a lot, much of which I will probably never even need. But researching and writing this kind of thing is what I consider a fun afternoon so here we are.

General basic stuff

Cathar are basically felids evolved to fill a similar evolutionary niche to humans in the absence of any viable apelike species on their native planet, in the same way hyenas evolved to fill a niche normally occupied by canids. 

They are pursuit predators but not terribly efficient ones outside their home planet. In terms of both speed and strength they can outperform humans on average in the short term, but have noticeably less stamina especially when it comes to running or walking long distances. They greatly outmatch any quadrupedal felids for stamina, however. (Mandalorians are an invasive species)

They run hotter than humans, around 100-102F.

Though height varies quite a bit, cathar are taller on average than humans and build muscle easily, making them extremely formiddable opponents in hand-to-hand combat.

The average face/skull shape of cathar is largely based on assumptions that they evolved under weirdly similar conditions to humans evolving from early hominids, aka shortening of the face, larger cranium, smaller mouth, etc.

While they are obligate carnivores and do have elongated canines, their teeth are more even in size than wild felids, and while they do still have barbed tongues, the barbs are relatively small/soft and more similar to a housecat than anything of comparable size (aka they won’t literally take your skin off if they lick you).  They also have somewhat thinner skin than wild cats, though they are still more damage resistant than humans.

They do not have retractable claws because that’s not how fingers work, but they do have narrow, naturally pointed claws rather than humanlike fingernails. Many cathar choose to either dull them or file them down for convenience, but losing/damaging them, as per that one ambient dialogue on Dromund Kaas that I can never find when I need it, is extremely traumatic for them. 

They have tails because I want them to, used for both balance and communication. Cathar tails are approximately lion-like, thin with a coarse tuft at the end regardless of markings (ie. a cathar with stripes won’t have a tiger tail), with the tip the same shade or a few shades darker than the darkest part of their coats. occasionally those from colder regions will have longer fur over the whole tail, or look like they don’t have a tuft due to longer fur overall. 

Variation and a lot of bullshitting about genetics

Wookiepedia describes Cathar as “a planet of savannas and rough uplands” but I refuse to believe that all these habitable worlds are all one consistent climate/temperature across the whole globe. The weirdly ubiquitous infrastructure/cultural info I can kind of forgive since 90% of them were wiped out by Mandalorians and the rest left, and I’m charitably assuming there were a lot less than 7 billion cathar to begin with, so a lot of smaller or more isolated cultures across the planet were lost entirely. 

They have less sexual dimorphism than SWTOR implies, though females are a little smaller on average and tend to have shorter/finer manes that are closer to their base color. In terms of relative strength/mass the difference is minor and female cathar are still very capable of fucking you up (the conventional assumption in the Empire that females are weak/docile and males are too uncontrollable to enslave is not remotely true in either direction). 

Variation in fur/metabolism/ear and nose shape depends on which region/s of Cathar they come from (or their ancestors come from), but they don’t recognize different “races” the way humans do, particularly in the wake of the Battle of Cathar. 

On average, cathar originating closer to the equator have shorter, finer fur, larger and more tapered ears, a tendency toward slender, lanky builds, and coloration that leans more toward golds/reds and higher pigment density. whereas those closer to the poles are much stockier and can be extremely fluffy, sometimes with an undercoat, with paler colors and less vivid/extensive markings. None of the above is universally true and cathar didn’t necessarily always stay in the region where their ancestors come from (and thus sometimes you get people like Riska, who is all limbs but has fairly northern features and entirely too much fur)

Cathar mostly left their planet in groups, so in some parts of the galaxy you’ll run into whole colonies that originate mostly from one part of the planet and have distinct appearances/cultural idiosyncrasies from other colonies.

They mainly follow the same general rules that apply to most felids in terms of coloration/pattern.

Markings can be stripes, spots, or less commonly rosettes (definitely some version of Taqpep variants) and mostly lie along Blaschko’s Lines, though it’s more obvious on some individuals than others and it isn’t always perfectly precise. Even spotted individuals usually display some striping on the tail and around the eyes, though not always. 

“Default” coloration is black-based, with dark markings on a greyish or brownish base. 

Countershading falls pretty much along patterns you’d expect and usually lightens the chest/stomach, lower face, palms/soles, and inner thighs. Specific distribution and patterns vary quite a bit, and sometimes express in odd ways (hence whatever is going on with Khatte). Darkest points tend to be the tail tip, nose bridge, and mane.

Genetically solid cathar are incredibly uncommon; much more common are genes that affect the appearance/distribution of markings, sometimes rendering them almost invisible. Even ones who appear mostly solid (aka Khatte) usually still have some faint striping around the face and/or tail.

Khatte is basically some loose equivalent of ticked tabby, which mostly just looks like weird countershading but leaves some faint striping on his face and tail.

Jial-ro’s coloration is the result of a gene that suppresses all eumelanin production, and a sepia-like form of partial albinism. 

Riska has something similar, along with something that reduces the size/spread of spots.

Food 

They’re mainly carnivorous and have different nutritional requirements from humans (similar but not identical to those of a cat), which can be a problem in places like the military where standardized rations are the norm. In the Republic a cathar can usually put in a request for rations designed to accommodate carnivores (or supplements, failing that), though they might have some trouble on more isolated or undersupplied planets. The rare cathar in the Imperial military have to procure supplements out of pocket, though it’s technically possible to get reimbursed for it if they’re willing to wade through the bureaucracy.

Cathar are perfectly capable of eating raw meat with few to no ill effects, and have a subgenre of cuisine centered around it (and while they didn’t invent sushi, they have enthusiastically embraced the concept). They also have plenty of ways of cooking meat and readily adopt any new ones they come across. 

Their “natural” diet apart from meat mainly consists of fruit, root vegetables, and eggs, though the closer to the poles you get the less likely you are to encounter fruit in a dish. Cathar never cultivated grain and it holds no meaningful nutritional value for them, so bread, rice, and similar products simply do not appear in traditional cuisine. This does not stop some of them from eating grain products in small amounts, as they can still enjoy the taste, but it isn’t any healthier than processed sugar is to humans and they have a high rate of gluten intolerance as a species.

All cathar have a heightened and refined ability to detect savory/umami type flavors, but around 30-40% of cathar, and the vast majority of those from colder regions, have no taste receptors for sweetness at all. This has resulted in the cathar equivalent of the Cilantro Debate centering around desserts, even though they’re all perfectly aware that it’s genetic, and some who can’t taste sweetness still enjoy some desserts for the other flavors present. Those who do have sweet taste receptors are about as sensitive to it as humans, but it tends not to have the same addictive quality for them and a lot of them don’t like processed sugars in anything but small doses. They would appreciate a lightly sweet creme brulee but most of them would find soda absolutely disgusting.

Citrus is right out.

They suffer no more ill effects than humans from drinking alcohol, and due to generally having a fair amount of mass they can usually drink a lot of it.

Social minutiae

They use a fair amount of feline body language, particularly with others of their own species. While facial expressions play a part and they do smile, scowl, and generally express broad emotions, they have a reduced range of facial mobility compared to more humanoid species and no eyebrows to speak of, which leads to a lot of them having what humans perceive as resting bitchface. It also results in humans underestimating the range and depth of their emotions, and can be a problem in the medical field with human medics/doctors who haven’t been trained to work with less humanoid aliens and won’t necessarily recognize severe pain or distress.

Their ears are less articulated than a cat’s but still have some degree of mobility that serves more of a social function than a practical one. They also express a lot of emotion through their tails, to the point that it can be a detriment in some situations if they haven’t practiced consciously keeping control of it.

Bumping foreheads is a common way to express platonic/familial affection, or can be the equivalent of a chaste kiss between partners. They also squint and slow blink, though it doesn’t always translate clearly to other species.

They have a wider range of vocalization than humans; while their voices are often humanlike and they’re just as capable of articulate speech, they can also growl, purr, and make sounds outside human hearing range. Those raised among humans or near-humans tend to do this less, if at all, while cathar raised in more insular communities of their own kind can come off as very taciturn due to heavier reliance on nonverbal communication.

Sense of smell is much stronger and more refined than a human’s and plays a more significant role in how they perceive and navigate the galaxy. They can occasionally be mistaken for Force-sensitive by humans due to their knack for picking up on emotional distress or the presence of particular species/people by scent. This is more true with people they’re familiar with; they won’t pick out distinct members of the other species by default but will eventually be fairly reliable in identifying the scent of a friend or anyone else they spend a lot of time around.

The exception to the above is other cathar, who they can easily tell apart on an individual basis. They have scent glands around the jaw/neck that come into play for identification, conveying broad emotional states, in some situations can aid medical diagnoses, among other things. They also play a part in building connection and familiarity between friends, family, or romantic partners.

The ~horny section~

Cathar don’t really kiss the way humans do by default, but they can, and usually do so unless they’ve somehow had no contact with any near-human species at all. Their equivalent is gentle biting around the neck and jaw, which is another situations where the scent glands are relevant, and when aroused that whole area becomes an erogenous zone for the vast majority of cathar. 

Plenty of humans (particularly if they don’t encounter a lot of aliens day to day) will avoid kissing cathar anyway because they have sandpaper tongues and dry mouths and fangs, and it feels fucking weird if you aren’t prepared for that. 

They tend to be very bitey in general unless specifically asked not to. It only becomes a problem if the cathar in question is inexperienced with humanoids and hasn’t figured out how much bite force is acceptable for a species with thinner, more sensitive skin.

Their dicks are fairly humanoid in size and shape, though somewhat more conical at the head, but they do have a sheath rather than a foreskin. after maturity they don’t actually retract into the sheath more than about two inches when flaccid, and tend to be slightly less sensitive than the average human (same keritinization factor that affects circumcised humans). It also makes them more vulnerable to damage, but since it’s customary to wear pants on most civilized planets, that never really becomes a problem in the course of a normal day. The base of the shaft that’s usually covered has noticeably higher sensitivity. There are probably individual exceptions to most of the above.

Conventional understanding is that cathar don’t have barbs, which is true the vast majority of the time, though about 60% of them have some amount of vestigial non-keratinous bumps over their head that have no noticeable affect on anything aside from occasional increased sensitivity in that area. Rarely an individual might develop a few actual barbs at the onset of puberty, but they have no practical function and pose a risk of discomfort and injury, and can easily be removed via a fast and mostly painless medical procedure, so the number of adults who have them is close to zero.

Females do have (mild, easy to suppress if desired, and mainly not at all disruptive) heat cycles. Other cathar can generally tell by scent, but not to a distracting degree, and it’s considered rude and inappropriate to point it out with anyone but a close friend or partner. It should go without saying that males don’t have heat cycles, but I’ve gotten enough weird DMs about this to know that I need to say it. Unless said male is trans, and not on any sort of HRT, that’s not how that works. 

They kind of have breasts but unless actively nursing they’re barely noticeable if at all, especially under clothing. Cathar have much fewer hangups about going topless regardless of gender than certain human cultures do.

#cathar #swtor #long post