#its filled with nerd shit and plants

[kasaslovr]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚  in which no girl has even looked his way so what makes him think you will. he's just not getting the hint that you want him to have little taste of your love

❈ warning: f!reader, college au, mutual & m!masterbation, fingering, praise, pet names, hair pulling?, teasing, he's like kinda subby at first then dom teehee, porn with plot. wc: 3.5k

❈ notes: i changed the concept oops, idk maybe ill write a fratboy!gojo fic later,  idk my friend was talking about how they dislike a playboy gojo so shoulder shrug. likes and reblogs r much appreciated mwahh anyway please enjoy my official first piece !

its not like he was hated, not at all. its just he never stood out and was never labeled anything more than basic. he just wanted to get through his college life peacefully. he didn't need those parties that lasted till 2am or those saturday night hookups which would leave him heart broken. sure he's had friends talk to him here and there, but he would never get super personal with anyone, ever.

it was a study hall in a library where there should’ve been just silent but instead, there would be students gossiping or making out in such a public place. how vulgar. he wasn't a nerd either, just an average guy honestly. he was finishing up notes that he could use for his next unit test, until the aroma of warm vanilla and marshmallows filled his nose, he usually wouldn't look, but he couldn't help it since it was right next to him. you were right next to him.

he slowly turned towards you and was met with such a winning smile with your head tilted and hand under your chin. your eyes were staring right at him like you were trying to see through his own eyes. you had the cutest cheeks he's ever planted his eyes on, they were just a little rosy and rose just a bit when you smiled at him. and your lips, they were beautifully plump with a little shine from your gloss and it was moving–shit you were talking and soon he was convinced. he's never had a taste of love like this before or ever.

“hello? i asked if we had biology together?” there was a concern look on your face, he snapped out of his thoughts and looked anywhere else besides your face. “uh i’m not to sure..” he responds with his hand reaching to the back of his neck, god you must think he's such a big loser cause of course he wouldn't know, all he does is keep his eyes down at his paper or at the floor.

a sign of nervousness. how cute you thought. you knew satoru was in your class, of course you did, ever since you transferred all you wanted was a new start and to live out your life so you did that, went to any party possible and made as many friends as you could while sticking with old ones. but there's one thing you wouldn't do and that was to let just any guy to have a taste of your love, you were gonna be in the one to control who you want to love and such and you chose him. gojo satoru.

“gojo right? i’ve definitely seen you around, you feed those cute cats behind the building!” you exclaimed, way louder than he would've liked and loud enough to  make his ears red. “uhm yeah..look are you following me around for fun or something because there are more entertaining things to do.” he suddenly felt discouraged like he wants to cry or never find someone attractive again.

“no no no, of course not! that was just by coincidence and since then i kinda told myself ‘i have to get to know such a cute and sweet guy.’” you said smiling ever so sweetly. what did you just say? cute? sweet? he's never seen himself in such way nor has anybody else, maybe when he helps the old ladies open the door or when his friends sees adorable baby photos of him, but he's never felt these kinds of butterflies about it before.

“you-you think im cute?” he turned towards you again to see if there was any sign of jokingly behavior, but no, you were being genuine. “yeah i do. i’m y/n, i think i need to be caught up on stuff in biology and you seem pretty smart so maybe if you wanna stop by my dorm sometime and help out i would totally appreciate it, im in room 318 in wing c.” you informed, you were starting to feel a little nervous now cause what if he thought you were just messing with him or gave him stalker vibes, you didn't want that at all. 

yes. a million times yes. he thought, he got so excited that he all of sudden stood up, giving you quite a shock, but made you giggle a little and he found his favorite sound ever. “yes i will..i mean i will take you up on that offer. is there a certain time or day you'd like me to go over?” he asked, he didn't think you guys were gonna be at that point where he could just go into your room anytime soon. “hmm doesn't matter to me, i’m never really busy.” you shrugged and now he's thinking of showing up tomorrow morning, but soon he’s interrupted by an alarm on your phone.

“shit! i’ve got lessons, here,” you grabbed a pen off of his notebook and wrote your number in the corner with a little heart. “now you should contact me whenever. i’ll see you around.” you smiled and wave then left the library while adjusting your tote bag on your shoulder. gojo put your number in his phone as soon as he could, in case he forgot of course, but how could he? you've made his day maybe his whole week–hell his entire month. he gathered up his stuff and walked to his dorm quickly.

he searched for his keys in this bag which were usually hung on his tiny key chain that geto gave him, he likes to deny him and gets undying friendship, in reality he was his best friend and almost brother, but gojo denies it all. he opens   the door and expects to see geto laying on the couch with a bag of chips on the couch and a Red Bull on the little coffee table, but no there was a small post, which geto stole from satorus room of course, it on the fridge saying ‘heyy im out to go bang a super hot chick from wing b, she's so hot and let me tell you when her boobs were bigger than my hands, i had to get in on that lmaoooo see ya tmrw - super hot playboy sugaru’ gojo had to blink of couple times until he reacted to it, he gagged with disgust and rolled his eyes, ripped off the note and threw it in the trash.

geto was almost the opposite of gojo, get had plenty of people follow him, guys he played sports with and some who just thought he was cool and wanted to tag along, there were girls too and they had the smallest articles of clothing and would throw themselves onto geto, it was almost like geto was some kind of cult leader. gojo chuckled at the thought, no way. what makes geto different is that he was kind and acknowledged everyone around him. 

gojo opened the door, turned on the lights and set his glasses on the table, grabbed some clothes that looked comfy and made his way to the bathroom to take a shower early since he ended sweating lots more than he usually would. after a half hot half cold shower since college bathing is shit he decided he would order some KFC knowing geto wouldn't be here to steal everything in the bag. gojo knew it was gonna take a while so he went into his room, closed door and lights off. some him time after a long day of classes.

soon satoru got curious, he was thinking back on gets note, did you know him?hes quite popular so maybe, but you were new so he was conflicted. gojo opened his instagram that he barely uses and only got it cause geto forced him to, but he logged onto his account with only 14 followers and got to searching, he went to gets that he has around 10 times more followers than gojo, but he doesn't mind since he doesn't even post anything. he went to search for your name in getos follower list and there you were, gojo felt his heart leap out of his chest of what? he doesn't know just yet. he's excited he found your account even if its a bit stalkerish, but you followed geto so were you using him to get with his roommate. he hopes not, he prays not.

with trembling fingers he pressed your account, he examined your account. your profile picture was a cute mirror picture with a white sweater on and studying something and you used a table mirror to take the picture, it was so cute, he moved onto to your recent post and he felt his heart drop even farther down and his eyes slightly widen. its you, of course, in a tiny blue swimsuit a two piece to be specific. 

there's three different photos, one of them is you closing your eyes with your knees bent onto the sand and hands cupping your own face and squishing your breast together, it must be unintentional, it has to be because gojo wouldn't know what to do with himself if it was on purpose almost like you knew he was gonna see this and get the hardest boner he's ever received in his life, he swiped to the left, not to exit but to look at the next picture. you're by the shore now and it looks like you're walking with a hand out and another holding your hat to cover your face and finally the last one. youre in the water just above thigh length and you're facing the sunset and your ass is on full display.

gojo couldn't do it anymore, either he was to go throw his phone away and take another cold shower or die because you were just so breathtaking, he scrolled to the first one and he didn't mean to look at your breast, but he didn't and then getos note came into mind again, damn geto, could his hands fit over your boobs? he had to do something about his problem. with his phone in one hand and his other snaking down to pull down his sweatpants, his dick was already leaked with precut ever since he found your account.

he used his thumb to spread the precut around tip to down to the base then back up. his mind was racing and imagining how would you play with his cock. would you make him beg for it? edge him over and over again until there's tears pooling in his eyes? or maybe you would make his sit on his knees like how are in that first pic and make him eat you out without any hands as you play with his cock and just use him as you please. all these fantasies has made his hand speed up and his groans louder now becoming words as he gets lost into wanting you so badly. “f-fuck..wanna cum inside you, baby.” he threw his head back and soon dropped his phone not even caring if it broke. his other hand ran through his hair then moved it down to his chest where he played with his nipples over his shirt, he's never masterbaited like this before, never with this much emotion. 

he was so close, pants and boxers by his ankles and the ends of his shirt caught in between his teeth. he wasn't taking it slow anymore, he just wanted to cum and the shlick slapping noises have just gotten wetter and almost heavier. he was pinching and pulling on his nipples now, they're both red and swollen, but it only adds to his pleasure. his face was red with blush and sweat built up on his forehead while moaning and whimpering your name over and over again like a prayer. would you moan his name like this? imagine you getting lost into so much pleasure where your toes are curled and eyes are crossed and screaming his name with moans followed right after, oh to make you feel that good. it got him painting his hand white and your name on his tongue. he felt his breath staggering back to normal as he cleaned up and when he completely snapped back into reality he wondered how was he supposed to face you.

its been 2 weeks, 5 days, 6 hours, and 27 minutes since gojo spoke to you. of course you've tried to say something to him, but he gets all flustered and leave or ignore you if he must. its really throwing you off so you text him. “hey gojo! could u come over and help me over this unit, but if ur busy that's ok, i don't wanna bother u. just lmk! <3” and sent, you hope your words can convince him to stop whatever phase he is in to talk to you.

gojo is sitting on his bed with his glasses off and hands on his face. what was he supposed to do? you sounded so distressed and he wants to help you, he truly does, but how can he face you when he's done something so lewd. ok fuck it, he has a plan he’ll result to pointing and yes and nos that's easy enough. he grabbed his textbooks and shoved them in his bag and rushed out the door and storming over to your room.

around 20 minutes later he's appeared in front of your door with three quick and panicked knocks. when you open the door you can see his face flushed with red from speed walking his way here and his breath is heavy. you say something first “i didn't know you were coming, i would've changed.” you joked, maybe lighting the mood would make him feel better, but all he did was scan you from your brown slippers to your biker shorts and at your black bra and he gulped “would you like to come in?” you asked him and he nodded. 

this was getting quite annoying. you didn't really need to study since you were pretty smart anyway, but your love for gojo hasn't left at all, you still find him the sweetest guy ever and really adorable and you thought inviting him over would settle things, but the tension only grew. until you stood up and asserted your dominance. 

“okay satoru, i don't know what's been going on with you or why you won't talk to me at all, but if i did something im sorry and if i didn't then what the fuck! i feel like im putting all this effort to be with you and you all of sudden don't give a shit about me!” you shouted almost on the verge of tears. it wasn't your first round of rejection, but to be ignored and humiliated like this was a first and you hated it and felt strong urges to just punch his face if he continued to portray this silent treatment. 

“i..i uh” he stutters, god you can feel tears dripping down your face. “do you hate me or something?!” you asked, not even caring if the neighbors next door are listening in. “no! i don't, its just..i really like you and i don't want be a loser in front of you and i was stalked your instagram and ended up jerking off to one of your photos and im sorry!” he confessed with a panicked expression. why did he admit that? his confession was also lame as fuck? was he in middle school? gojo felt so light headed suddenly and closed his eyes shut and braced himself for a punch anywhere on his body and he held his face. 

he's never felt such way for someone before and this time it was his fault that they were gonna walk away. he hates himself so much right now and wishes he wasn't some weird loser kid and wishes he was someone more popular, more social, more like geto. 

when he peered through his fingers he saw your face and you were..laughing? why? he just told you the most shameful things he's done in his life and you laugh. “sorry sorry, you know because its you i don't mind.” you blush a little while wiping your tears. “and i like you too if you couldn't tell..” you mumbled, finally gaining eye contact with him. he's looking down and playing with his fingers, he's confessed to girls before, but for someone else to want him first. it makes his self confidence sky rocket honestly.

“im still sorry for what i did, but can i ask you for something?” he asked, you nodded slowly, truly having no idea on what it is, “can i kiss you?” he asked shyly and you didn't even responded, you couldn't tell what was moving faster, your mind racing a million times per hour or feet rushing to put your lips on his. it was nowhere close to shy or calm. it was kiss full of madness, want, lust, and love. with noses colliding teeth clashing with one another, and tongues only making the kiss less collective and messy. 

you grabbed his hand and led him into your bedroom without breaking off the kiss, you locked the doors and turned off the lights only leaving your little yellow lamp on your table as a light source. “off. i wanna see you.” he said his voice hoarse from being breathless while trying to rush you, you worked as quick as you could only for satoru to help you as you shoved your pants off he got your top and latched his mouth onto one of perky nips and playing with the other, he closed his eyes and moaned loudly without any shame which caused vibrations through your body adding to the pleasure. “satoru, baby lemme make you feel good too, please.” you moaned softly while trying to get his pants off, anything to return this favor of lust, he pulled off for a split second just to take his shirt off and as soon as that was off he continued ti mark your body with big red splotches that will soon turn people in due time and all over your neck and finally his pants came out and before you could make a move on him, he grabbed your hands

“show me. right now how you play with yourself. put a show on come on.” he encouraged, letting your hands go then peeling off his boxers, slowly moving his wrists up and down his leaking dick. while watching him it felt like your mind was on autopilot, you slipped off your panties and gathered some wetness that has been developed from the kissing and such. you didn't care that you making a mess everywhere, spreading your juices all over your already drenched until you stick a finger in, moaning so light almost with a relief cause the sensation was just so good. then another one, but it wasn't enough your fingers couldn't reach into the deep spots your toys usually could, but why do you need it when you have one right in front of you. with his mouth agape and his abdomen flexing and a flush covering his entire body, to the tip of his cock to the blades of his shoulder. “t-toru s’not enough. want your dick now.” you whined, wording slurring as your brain turned into mush. 

his eyes traveled down to your messy cunt and there was a faint smirk on his face. “oh needy little thing, you want me to help you out, sweetheart. you gotta open those cute legs of yours further then.” he said letting go of his crimsoned tip cock and taking the fingers that were in your pussy to spread them farther and when he saw the sight, he felt the wind knocked out of his chest. all he could do was stare. “stop looking, ‘s embarrassing” you mumbled looking away, honestly the fire in the bottom of your stomach only grew as he continued to play with your pretty little pussy.

he moved your fingers away as he plunged his own right in without an ounce of hesitation. he wasn't being gentle at in nor nice. he wasn't your toy, you were his and he loved it like that. “ill look if i wanna, ‘s mine now isn't it? tell me, pretty girl, who's your cute lil pussy gushing all over for?” he was merciless and he didn't hold back, not at all. “you! satoru! its yours, ‘m all yours, please wanna cum!” you were so close, moans only got louder and higher in octaves at that point, “’s lucky you're so cute, cum for me, baby.” he says leaning in to kiss you and your swollen lips from deep heavy kisses and from biting on it to keep quiet, though it didn't work in the slightest. he moved his head down back to your neck, he loves this taste of you and he’ll never ever get enough.

with your hands in his hair and a slight tug, you came and it completely drenched the sheets and almost the entirely of his hand, as your brain became cleared of fog and passion you rested your weight on satoru only for him to push you down and get on top of you and the feel of his tip kissing your clit, teasing your already worn out cunt. 

“you thought we we’re done? nah baby ive gotta taste more of your love.” 

#idk if you can tell but there's a part where it just goes all to shit #jjk #jjk x y/n #gojo fanfic #gojo satoru #gojo smut #jjk smut #jujutsu gojo #jujustu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #anime #smut #anime smut #gojo satoru smut #jjk geto #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #lowk hate this now that ive written #gojo satoru imagine

[solaneceae]

float like a feather, sting like sharp talons

Philza drops by Étoiles' brand new dojo for a friendly sparring session, and ends up getting quite a lot more. Namely existential dread, the thrill of a good hunt, and the comfort of shared trust. @apthotiosis this is a commissioned fic! read on ao3

He whistles, eyes lingering along the thick, wooden support beams and rice paper walls surrounding him. It’s a surprising sight, tucked away in a corner of what he can only describe as a mess of a base, mostly empty, the walls still a rough (and frankly ugly) mix of dirt and cobblestone that hasn’t been cleared out even after six months. “So. That is your dojo.”

Étoiles nods at his side, a big stupid grin on his face. “Do you like it, Phil?” he asks, eager as a pup as little Pomme zooms around the cave in an improv game of tag with Tallulah — ever mindful of how her lag (sorry, asthma) sometimes stalls her in her tracks. He glances at them fondly, silly, eggs, babies. “I do,” he hums, because it is pretty. Especially if you ignore the rest of the cave outside because God, it’s fugly as shit and Étoiles knows it. The plant hybrid smiles, all teeth and gums, and squints with star-filled eyes that always seem to glow despite not working like they used to. Phil still doesn’t get why what was originally a completely harmless veggie plant has evolved to bear such predatory teeth, but he can’t say it doesn’t suit his friend. “He likes it! Let’s gooo, big win for me, big win. I can die happy now.”

“Oh my god, stop. Kristin’s married, you know.”

Étoiles gives him a mock-shove that is more of a real one, because Étoiles never holds back, especially not with Phil. “Oh! Oh, so I can’t be nice to Lady Death? I can’t just visit her because she’s cool and she likes me also? I am married to the grind, Phil, you know me!”

Phil shakes his head, exasperated and fond. “You’re a nerd is what you are. Did you know she calls you her tech support?” Étoiles makes a confused noise. Tallulah peeps in the background, mimicked by Pomme, a chorus of play and yesyes, because all the eggs have picked up on that one by now. (Mimicry is a powerful thing, and the eggs are highly social creatures who thrive on it.)

Phil elaborates, circling the build to assess its structure better. “Because of the sweeping edge bug thing, and Richas’ cancelled death last week. You find the kinks and loopholes in death mechanics better than anyone she knows.”

Étoile beams at that. “That’s so cool. I’m Death tech support!”

“You certainly are. Do you think it’s because you picked Death? In the entity rooms?”

The green-skinned man shrugs, then gasps and takes off running after Pomme to stop her from setting up waterframes everywhere to display obscure anime edits for Tallulah because her internet, her lag Pomme, you’re going to make her void! Phil glances at them (safe, no danger, good) then back at the dojo, running his palm down a beam to feel its grain. It’s smooth, recently stripped of its bark. “Huh,” he says.

He doesn’t understand why his friend chose to build this underground when dojos are usually suited for wind-swept plains or mysterious forests. Then again, Étoiles has never been much for coherent aesthetics. That, and he probably thought it would be more mysterious to hide it under the ground, knowing him. “It’s. Well, very dojo-like,” he walks through dark support beams and onto clean, recently-oiled planks, coming to poke at one of the wooden sticks idly rotating above an altar to send it spinning in the opposite direction. Étoiles trots back to him with an egg under each arm (Play, dad, Pomme warbles. Play, silly, Tallulah beeps from within her cracked shell.) and lets out a guttural noise, visibly bothered by the sticks being out of sync, and it makes Phil snort. Silly. Silly. “Did you build it all by yourself?”

“Yeeaaaah.”

“You’re lying.”

A dramatic gasp. The warrior puts both eggs down to throw his hands in the air. “I’m not lying! Pomme, ma légende, dis-lui.”

Bomp. [me and richas did it. papa helped, very much :DDD]

Étoiles comes to brush his fingers against the red sign, letting the device tucked into his ear translate the written words into spoken ones. He whines, puts a hand over his heart as his ears droop. “Ahhh, trahison. Disgrâce. Tu m’détestes en fait Pomme, c’est ça ? You want me to dig down to bedrock and die forever? Or it’s because I can’t see, so you think I’m shit?”

Bomp. [papa…] Bomp. [t’a pas besoin d’être aveugle pour avoir des goûts douteux en déco :X]

“Okay, okay. I go die in fire then, goodnight.” Then Étoiles pours lava into the cobble floor and stands in it with a huge smile. His body catches on fire immediately, skin quickly shrivelling up and blackening under the heat. Pomme peeps at him loudly and hits him with her scythe, then douses him in water and healing potions — which immediately prompts Étoiles into sparring mode, laughing and hyping his egg up with a string of ‘oh she knows, she knows the play’ and ‘strafing, comboing, keep at it’ as his body heals up. Philza watches the display for a few seconds before getting bored, choosing to walk past the layer of light wood circling the dojo to take a look inside.

It’s even prettier than the outside, with all the paper lanterns and little fountains and bamboo shoots. His geta clack against the wood, then go silent on the woven straw flooring at the center. “Why’re all the posters in Japanese?” he remarks when his friend comes back from his little mock-tantrum with his daughter in tow, squinting at a crude montage explaining the belts system. Philza can gather that it’s based on how much HP the dojo master has left after a duel, because Étoiles has been yapping about making a dojo with that exact system for months now. (Is that a jar of mayo at the top? The hell?) Guess the eggs returning has been the push in motivation he needed to actually commit to that build, despite his insistence that he is very much a builder now, thank you very much, look at all the wool I have.

Étoiles perks up, grins in a way that lets Phil know he’s about to do a bit. “Oh, you don’t know? You don’t know that I’m literally Japanese, Philza?” he chirps, picking up one of the sticks on display before running circles around the other man, poking at his legs playfully. His boots are off, Phil notices. “Speaking of! Shoes off Phil, come on, come on!”

“You literally told me you grew in a field, mate,” Phil laughs, airy and wheezy and light as he evades the attacks. “The little legume who could! In rural France! Where does Japan come into play here?”

“Aaaah, Philza, Philza,” the warrior shakes his head, hitting the other on the shoulder to push him back out and onto the cold cobble floor. “Shoes off I said, it’s a rule. I don’t want shit on my tatami, I already had to clean it up sooo many times with the whole server fucking around in it yesterday. And Japan lives in my warrior’s soul. It’s all that matters.”

“F’course it does,” Phil complies regardless, shimming out of his geta before walking to the little shoe rack in the corner to tuck them inside. “There. Happy?”

“Very. Also, trivia time, culture time: did you know that cucumbers aren’t legumes? They are fruits, Phil! And vegetables don’t actually exist, they’re all either fruits or roots or leaves or flowers...”

Phil stares at him. “...You don’t get to stand there and tell me my avocados are fruits, Étoiles. What the fuck.”

“Umm, they are berries, actually—”

“Oh fuck off and come kill me already.”

“With pleasure, my bro.”

 

Armors come off next, quickly magicked back into inventories. Phil walks up to the altars to pick up his own stick (unenchanted, as plain as it gets) and spots Étoiles off to the side, rolling up his sleeve to check on his insulin levels before rolling it back down. “We eat one gapple each, yes? My sugar is low,” he explains as they both get into position on both ends of the tatami.

“Sounds good. You got yours?”

Étoiles laughs, summoning a golden fruit from his inventory and spinning it over his finger like the insufferable showoff he is. “Always. Autofeed off Phil, no cheating.”

“Alright, you little shit,” Phil summons his own gapple and bites into it with purpose, feeling the warm tingle of magic-saturation in his stomach as the rest of the apple vanishes into thin air with a few golden sparkles. He turns to the eggs, settled on top of diamond blocks they’ve just placed. “Tallulah, do a countdown for us please?”

Signs are placed, one by one, as Pomme hypes them up with Megalovania, perfectly timed with the Pigstep now blasting out of a music box. Bomp, three. Bomp, two. Bomp, one…

Bomp. [GO PAPA PHIL :D]

Étoiles shoots off towards him as soon as the letters show up on the wood, jumping up and swinging his stick down for a crit. Phil dashes to the side, the blow just grazing his shoulder. “Nice cock, Phil!” Étoiles gasps, all sharp teeth and waggling eyebrows, and it takes the avian back enough for the other to get a few hits in. “Motherfucker!” Phil laughs, breaking the combo and pushing the cucumber back with a few crits of his own, adrenaline starting to flood his brain and paint the world in sharp edges and colors. “You little shit! Stop doing that!”

“Do what, Philza? I’m just bantering, just chilling.”

Étoiles’ combat style hasn’t changed despite the blindness, Phil finds — he’s insanely precise and quick on his feet, which is a problem. He decides he won’t be able to outrun or out-speed him, so he elects to block most of his strikes with his own stick instead, relying more on instinct than observation. “He’s blocking, he’s blocking,” the warrior’s voice chants through the flurry of swings and the clack of wood against wood. “Strafing, strafing, he’s the best, he’s the GOAT. Hit me, Phil! Don’t just defend, hit me!”

And dammit, Phil tries pretty hard — but Étoiles is insane and he’s just a little too fast even without speedbridging, just a little too smart with his feints. Phil goes down after two minutes, the last hit clocking him across the temple and sending him to the (thankfully a little soft) floor, ears ringing and white stars dancing across his darkening vision. He wonders if it’s a little like how Étoiles sees the world now. Probably not. “Four hearts, Phil,” Étoiles announces, laying his hands on Phil’s side — the pain fades, the world comes back into focus, and his brain rattles with the doom-doom of revival. He hears fireworks going off, probably Pomme’s. “That’s good, very good. That’s a brown belt! I think you can kill me soon, easy. Again?” the cucumber chirps, offering his hand, and Phil thinks that if Étoiles had his tail it would probably be wagging right now.

He groans in agreement, grasps his friend’s hand and is pulled back on his feet. “Yes. Again.”

Round two goes similarly. “Again.” So does round three. “One more.” After his fourth consequential victory, Étoiles looks pensive, and Phil is getting a tad frustrated — he’s muted his comm for this, as he often does, but he can usher a guess at what Global chat looks like, spammed with his half-death messages and maybe a brief bout of concern from whoever else is online at the moment. “Fuck, man,” he rubs at his neck where a particularly vicious strike has left the skin an angry red, molted with purple. He’ll feel that in the morning, if he doesn’t get a respawn. “I don’t think I can do it. No black belt for me.”

“No, no, you can,” Étoiles insists, circling him — dull, greyed out eyes scanning for something. “I think…”

“Looking for something, king? How’s nebula-me looking?”

“Like the GOAT, you know that. But since you ask, you’re more blue today. With some red.”

“Cool. Wish I could see like you do, for a day.”

“You don’t. It’s pretty, but annoying. It’s harder to make out details inside the, ah…” he mumbles something in barely-legible French. “Je sais pas comment on dit. Les contours. The lines at the limits of a drawing.”

“Outlines?”

“Yes. I see the outlines well, but everything inside is messy. To me everything is just, shapes. And the bigger a thing is, the harder it is for me to understand it. Eggs are easy, because they are small and simple. People are harder.” He waves towards Phil. “Like, I can’t know if you’re smiling or frowning, I have to listen to how your voice sounds.”

“Huh. That’s interesting.”

Étoiles hums, stops at his side. Cocks his head like an attentive dog. “Ah. You should take your backpack off, Phil. It’s slowing you down.”

Oh. Philza shifts, hesitant. “I wear it all the time, it doesn’t nerf me that much.”

“No, I think it can make a difference. Let’s try it?”

Mh. He hadn’t planned on doing this today. Showing his kids had felt right, natural. Showing Fit had required a few deep breaths, but not much else. Étoiles… is a trickier case.

He does want to show him — the french warrior is one of his most trusted friends, and someone he knows he can rely on in a pinch. The guy is loyal to a fault, always looking at Phil like all it would take for him to lay down his life before him was a single word. It’s a bit scary, in a way, and always makes his hindbrain buzz pleasantly. But Phil held things like mutual trust in high regard, and Étoiles had broken that on the first day of Purgatory.

They had talked since then, and it’s clear to Phil now that it had been an honest mistake, a temporary lapse in judgement. Plus, it’s not as if Phil hadn’t lost his own mind within the first twenty-four hours in that red hellscape. Still, even though he has forgiven Étoiles, the cracks don’t feel completely healed just yet. “I don’t know, mate,” he pulls at one of the straps of his backpack self-consciously, feeling its weight pressing his wings tightly against his back. “I can’t get you under four hearts, I doubt taking it off will give me that much more.”

“Phil. Phiiiiil. Trust me?”

Tall order, Phil almost jokes, but refrains. “I do trust you.”

“Then trust what I’m saying. I know my shit, you’re being slowed down, you can’t spin as fast or jump as high with this thing, it’s basic physics. I want you to have all the chance on your side.”

Philza purses his lips, glances to where Tallulah sits off to the side. She jumps to her little feet and places down a sign, while Pomme rummages through her backpack next to her. He can’t help but coo when the bright ‘<3’ shows up in stark white against the magenta wood. “Right. Okay.”

Étoiles can’t see, not normally. So maybe he won’t be able to make them out, bound tightly against his back as they are. And if he does, then that is fine. No need to make a fuss of it. So Philza walks up to Tallulah and drops the black pack next to her, giving her a little headpat in passing. “Watch over that for me, okay?” he smiles at her, and she peeps at him with purpose, jumping on top of it and doing the egg equivalent of puffing up her chest. Pomme is in her own red backpack now, little legs kicking the air as she reaches as deep as she can. silly, egg, baby, egg, he croons. “I’ll be right back. Got a green ass to kick.”

 

“He is back,” Étoiles whoops when he steps onto the tatami. “Oh, he is ready, so ready. Are you full hearts?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. We go on three, one, two, th—”

Phil takes off at the first syllable, and oh, yeah, the lack of weight on his back means he can lean forward more without gravity winning, and that means he reaches Étoiles right as he reaches the end of his three. He thrusts his stick forward, the blunt tip digging itself right into the other’s abdomen with enough force to make him stumble back, winded and sputtering. “Argh—”

Phil doesn’t let him recover, getting a few good hits in before his opponent parries and attempts an upward swing that he barely evades by sending his body backwards, dangerously far. The weapon grazes his chin, and his wings try to open to regain balance but they’re still bound against him. “Shit—” he steps back quickly, arms pinwheeling, and it looks a little silly but it works, and he does not crash onto his back like an idiot.

Étoiles stares at him from the other side, breathing hard, eyes wide, a palm against his diaphragm. Then he smiles. “Oh. Ohohooo. Okay, now we’re talking. Let’s go.”

Moving more freely doesn’t make the fight easier, not by a long shot, because Étoiles adapts quickly — but it does make it more fun, and that’s already an improvement in Phil’s eyes. He gets less crits in, because jumping up leaves him too exposed to revenge strikes, but he gets more light hits in between sidesteps and mad dashes. “He is so fast!” Étoiles cheers, ducking to dodge a vicious strike to the head. “Oh, he is so good, go Phil go!”

Run, dodge, strike, strafe, dash. Every muscle in Phil’s body strains to keep up as he pushes it past its limits, arm aching from the repeated shocks against the stick, but he barely feels it thanks to the adrenaline flooding his system. A hit to the back of his knee makes him stumble, but he recovers into a roll and trips Étoiles with his stick in retaliation. The cucumber groans, scrambles to get up, and Phil sees an opening right there on his foes’ unprotected throat. He zeroes in on it, takes the first step, raises his weapon and—

 

There’s a jagged shape in his peripheral vision.

 

He falters. Tries not to look at it, tries to keep his eyes on target, target that’s about to get back up, quick, quick, do it. 

 

There’s a purple shape in his peripheral vision.

 

He fails. Sharp angles and eerie glow, that shade he’s come to dread. The amethyst crystals hum out their ethereal song, taunting him. He doesn’t see Étoiles anymore, and his world is drowning in high-pitched static.

 

Purple. Purple everywhere. The room is too dark, too dark, darker yet darker.

Time slows down. No. The edges of his vision are fraying, dark tendrils creeping in. He feels himself falter, adrenaline making way for cortisol and making his hindbrain, no, fly, fly, run, nonono. He’s losing his footing, his grip around the stick growing slack, palms getting clammy. No, no, not now, please. His breathing picks up, faster than it’s been at any point of this duel. The amethysts glow an eerie violet, jagged shapes growing out of the thick, wooden beams around him, and he swears the room has gotten even darker. “Tallu—” He doesn’t make it to the end of the name, because then something smacks him in the back with unrestrained force.

Right on his left ulnare, the wingbone left exposed with no fat or muscle to cushion the blow.

Pain explodes throughout his left wing, the shock propagating all the way into his back and making him yell out, a gasp-screech that is very not human. Tallulah peeps loudly somewhere at the edge of his awareness, papa, no, bad! as he falls to his hands and knees, panic spiking, bad, bad, hurts, getoutgetout—

“Oh merde! Phil, ça va ?” He hears glass breaking, smells melon and gunpowder and something both earthy and spicy — Nether wart. Étoiles is healing him, putting a stop to their duel, and the realisation drags him out of that weird fugue state. “You never made that sound before, I think it’s bad. Are you okay?”

“Amethyst,” the older man growls between clenched teeth, letting the potion effects refill his health bar — fuck. Pain signals were always limited during PvP, but this had somehow broken through the server’s capping function. Étoiles makes a noise of incomprehension, his hands just hovering over Phil’s shoulder, not quite touching. “What?” he says, and Phil hears the patter of little feet rapidly coming closer. Pomme and Lullah.

“Please, just... Can you see the amethyst?”

He doesn’t know why he’s asking, of course his friend can’t see it, because that shit isn’t real. Or at least not to anyone but him. Through the haze he can feel Tallulah’s warm shell bump against his arm, hear her little worried chitters. He doesn’t trust himself to tell her he’s fine.

But then, Étoiles raises an eyebrow and turns his head towards the wall, blinks. A frustrated noise. “Euuuh Pomme, je t’adore hein, mais ça va pas trop avec le reste en fait. Tu peux les retirer steuplait ?” Pomme crouches, one-two, then summons a pickaxe and walks towards the crystals, and proceeds to casually break all of them.

Oh. Her backpack, all her rummaging. She’d been trying to decorate the dojo while they were busy sparring. 

Philza lets out an uneven breath, runs a hand through his hair — his forehead is damp with cold sweat, and it sucks. Okay. Okay. Real, then. Just a really, really bad coincidence. Bad timing. Bad everything. He lets out a breath, the tight coil in his chest slowly loosening. “I’m sorry Pomme,” he gives the little egg a smile that he hopes to the Gods isn’t shaky. “Got distracted by the shiny, you know how it goes. Crow brain go brrrrr.”

Pomme falls dramatically on the floor at that, places a red sign that reads [sorry ;_;] “You’re good, you’re good, don’t worry.” Tallulah places a flower next to Pomme, bomp, [RIP manzanita]. Phil chuckles at their antics, heartbeat slowing down to a more normal pace. Jesus Christ. “You like shiny things, Phil?” Étoiles asks. “Did not know that.” He looks around, scans the dojo for any stray shine. “Mmmh. All good, I think. Sorry about Pomme, she likes amethyst stuff.” Then, quieter, “I think it reminds her of Baghera. She has an amethyst farm in her castle.”

Oh. Phil glances at Pomme, who thankfully seems fully absorbed in a sign-based conversation with Tallulah. “That makes sense. She must miss her a lot.”

(Dad, are you proud of me? I just killed a silverfish.)

“Can I see your wings, Phil?”

And, there it is. The other shoe. Phil lets out a heavy sigh, wincing when the movement makes his joint twinge in lingering pain — he’s pretty sure nothing’s actually broken or sprained, at least not any worse than before, but it still hurts. “So you saw them.”

“No no, I can’t. But I know they are there, somewhere. I’m sorry I hit them, I can’t tell where they are if you don’t have them out. Told you it was annoying.”

Ah. That makes more sense. He doubts Étoiles would voluntarily target them. Still… “How do you know about them? And, why?

“Philza, you need to understand something. And the thing is, I’m really dumb. I want to see them because maybe I can help, if I hurt them. I fix.”

“No you’re not, stop that. And you didn’t do any permanent damage, you’re fine.”

“No, wait. I’m stupid with lore, but I have eyes and ears. Jaiden showed she had wings, pretty sure Baghera has some but she hides them, I assumed you were the same.” Ah. Fair enough. Phil hasn’t been as subtle lately, and the crow jokes could only go for so long before people started to pick up on how literal they were. “Also, Kristin told me.”

Wait, what. “Wait, what?”

“Ye ye. First day of Purgatory, I died a lot.  She said she wanted to exchange fofoca, so I told her about things, and she told me about you because she likes me. Did you know, I asked her if I could get wings too? It made her laugh. I guess tech support is not a high enough position to get flying benefits, sad times for me.”

Mother fucker. It’s hard to be upset when everything that spews out of Étoiles’ chattermouth is so consistently funny. “Well. I would’ve told you sooner than later, anyway. S’fine.”

“So you let me help.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll let you take a look, if that’ll make you feel better about it.”

“Let’s goooo, we got trust. Sit down please?”

Phil snorts and complies. He spots Tallulah running back towards him to climb onto his lap with a quiet warbe. good? Phil warbles back, good, yesyes, and rests his chin on top of his egg’s soft locks of hair. He hears Pomme hitting her dad behind him. “Ouais Pomme ?” Bomp, a short silence. “Badboy est là ? Ah ouaaais. Il veut encore t’exploiter pour ses boutons de l’enfer là ? POV, tu aides le fou du QSMP avec son escape game pour pas qu’il te tue.” More hits, Pomme’s little click-chirps. Étoiles laughs. “Okay, okay, t’inquiètes. Va l’aider, moi et Phil on va parler de trucs chiants de toute façon. Je te vois plus tard ?” The sound of a warpstone going off. “Saluuut.”

“Is Pomme leaving?”

“Yeah, she wants to build stuff with Badboy.”

“Oh god. Please tell me it’s not another find-the-button map.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna spend ten hours finding those fucking things again soon, let’s gooooo. So your wings, who else knows? I bet Fit knows. And your eggs.” Tallulah nods in Phil’s hold.

Étoiles’ lack of big reaction feels nice, but he supposes he should have expected it — the guy never makes a big deal out of anything. Except when it’s about banned materials. Or the Nether. And finding buttons, new trigger unlocked. “Add in pretty much everyone in the original Bolas, king,” he huffs as Étoiles settles behind him. His unseen presence makes a brief shiver of danger, danger go up Phil’s spine. It’s fine. It’s fine, he soothes himself, idly rubbing at the scar at the center of his chest through his robe. “I lost my shit with them around. Stopped caring as much. They saw them on day one.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? Half the people on this shit island are like, creatures. Not humans. Nobody cares. I’m literally a fruit, Phil.”

Phil chokes on his own spit. “Jesus Christ, you have no idea how funny what you just said was.” Tallulah chirps and wiggles in his hold, places a sign. [*side-eyes u*] it says, and that’s somehow even funnier than if she had actual eyes to side-eye people with instead of the blank expanse of her brown-spotted shell.

Étoiles blinks. He cocks his head to the side, in that specific way he does whenever he’s listening to what he calls the ‘voices of the stars’. (Something akin to his crows, from what the older man has been able to gather.) “Oooh. Oh, is it a gay joke Phil? That doesn’t work man, we are on Gay Island, everyone is gay here, or they don’t date at all. And you are incorrect, because I am in the second group, héhé.”

“Didn’t Antoine call you his boyfriend once?”

“He calls me a lot of things.” Étoiles shrugs. ”He’s also an asshole and my DJ partner and my friend and I love him very much, but no, it’s not like that. And I am married to dark metal and dungeons anyway. Now I’m going to unbind your wings and move them around, okay?”

“Mh. Go for it, king.”

To his credit, Étoiles is methodic in his approach — unknotting the binds and carefully tracing the upper edges of his left wing while the other spreads out with difficulty, a few black feathers coming loose. Étoiles lets out a surprised oh, gently grabs the other to help it unfurl, and Phil feels him poking at the bottom of his regrowing primaries — right where the white ones, usually hidden beneath the outer layer unless he spreads them wide, grow in diamond-like spots. “I know this pattern, right there. You have Elytrian code too, Phil? I thought it was just crow.”

“Ah, so Kristin didn’t tell you everything then.”

“No. And she didn’t like, out you, you know. She only told me because she knew I knew, she only confirmed it. People with wings have like, a way they move? I can’t explain it, I just see it.”

“Body language expert Étoiles, ey? Have you known a lot of avians before?”

Étoiles stays quiet for a second. When he speaks again, he sounds perplexed. “Huh. I don’t know. I guess I knew Baghera? Memory stuff, it’s annoying.”

Phil frowns. Right. “You told me a little about your childhood, though. The village, the farmers?”

“Yeah, that’s a thing that came back quickly after the crash. But everything after that, I don’t remember.”

“Man, fuck this island. I’m sorry.”

Étoiles hums. His fingers start combing through his bottom feathers, lingering among the white ones. “I think. I think I went to the End before, Phil.” His voice has gone softer, airy, like he’s not quite anchored in the present. “I think… maybe, I’ve seen Elytrians before.”

“You have?”

“Mmh. I think I killed one. Yeah. And I took its elytra. It was a good fight.”

The revelation doesn’t shock him — Elytrian hunting is a common activity for those who reach the End, and elytras are a highly sought-after item in most worlds. (Philza would know.) “Were you a hunter? Before the island.”

“I don’t think so. I don’t like hunters.” And Phil can’t see Étoile’s face from his position on the floor, but his words are dripping with contempt. “Hunting for yourself is one thing. Making money off it, it feels wrong. And they don’t even fight, they make traps. I don’t like that. If you’re too shit at fighting to win fairly against something, you don’t deserve the loot. Bâtards de merde.”

And Phil laughs, because this he understands. “Ever the honorable warrior, aren’t you Étoiles.”

“Dude, I have so much honor. I told you, I’m literally Japanese.”

“Right.”

“And like I said, I am your arms. I am your sword, Philza Minecraft.”

Phil’s wings fluff up slightly, a croon of ownership-claim threatening to spill out of his chest. Mine. “Étoiles…”

“I am, it’s not a bad thing! Purgatory sucked. I didn’t like it. But it was better at the end, when you were telling me what to do. Who to kill for you.”

Phil croons, leaning back into Étoiles’ careful hands. “I see. You never called me dad though.”

“Fuck that!” Étoiles laughs, bark-like and airy. “That cult leader shit was weird. You’re Philza.” And there’s a quality to the way he says it, something that feels both casual and reverent. “First of his name, GOAT of PvP, Avoider of Lore, greatest man alive—”

“Woah there—”

“—husband and Angel of Lady Death, and father of dragon eggs. You’re not my dad. Why everyone has daddy issues on this shit island?”

Phil snorts. “I don’t know, mate. But I won’t judge. I think it’s fine if seeing me as a father figure brought them comfort. It was literally hell out there.”

Étoiles hums. “Maybe. Also, you didn’t answer my question.” Phil lets out a confused huh. “Earlier, when I asked why you were hiding that you had wings.”

…Shit. Curse Étoiles’ one-track mind, his deflection tactic had been foiled. “It’s not— shit like prejudice I was afraid of, Étoiles,” he admits, quiet and somber. The other man stops his ministrations, fingers dug deep in his primary coverts. “I know this island is a goddamn circus show. Mousey screams she’s a demon to whoever will listen and nobody gives two shits, I don’t know why Bad even bothers pretending he’s not. That’s not the problem. It’s just…” He sighs. ”The Federation has eyes everywhere, man. I feel like if I show them off too much, they’ll fuck them up again. Maybe even worse than last time.”

Étoiles is silent. His motions resume, slower, more careful and deliberate. “The first time, you say,” he eventually hums. There’s something dangerous in his voice. “So it’s because of them, that they are like this? Your wings.”

“Pretty much. Woke up on the train, boom, clipped. No more flying for me. I don’t know why they didn’t do the same to Jaiden, she said she didn’t want to fly, or didn’t know how? I can’t remember too well, but maybe that’s why. Less of a threat. Honestly, I’m just glad they didn’t do it to her. She’s family now.” Even though her loyalties are a point of concern, he couldn’t help it. She is Bolas, she is flock. And he had held her as she screamed out the temporary loss of her shiny blue wings, that first night in Purgatory. “No avian deserves that shit.”

“You don’t either, Phil.”

“I know that.”

“I’m just saying it because you have the voice! The one you use when you think bad things.”

A wry smile. “How dare you call yourself dumb, man. How fucking dare you.”

“It’s what I do! I kill things, I see people’s true souls, and I shit on myself.”

They stay quiet after that. Étoiles stretches out his wings, flexing the joints one at a time, muttering quick apologies when Phil hisses a little too loud. “Sorry, sorry.”

“You’re good. Keep going.” So he does, until Phil no longer feels the pins and needles of blood flooding back into his wings, until the joints no longer feel like rusted cogs. He even gets a little preening in, dislodging matted down and crooked secondaries, and it feels nice. Tallulah is dozing off in his hold, warm and safe. His egg, his baby, his hatchling. “Thanks mate,” Phil hums, a little out of it by the end, hindbrain thrumming pleasantly. Flock, good, yesyes. “You’ve done that before, I can tell.”

“If I have, I don’t remember. Okay, now stand— sorry Tallulah, were you sleeping? Sorry, your dad has to stand so we can see. Yes, nice. Now try them.”

Phil chitters quietly, furling and unfurling his wings experimentally — the constant pain is still there, but minimal, very bearable, and they do feel less stuffy. Lighter. “It actually does, yeah.” Tallulah does a little dance at his side, twirling and playing a few cheery notes on her flute. “Good job, seriously.”

“No probleeeem, Phil, my bro. Last round?”

This guy, I swear. “I’m a little tired,” Phil groans, cracking his neck as he stands, stretches his wings out as far as he can — it still aches, but feels miles better. “But okay. I’m going to put Tallulah to bed real quick, she’s eepy.” Tallulah nods in confirmation, takes out her warpstone right as her papa does. “Then let’s fight, one more time. After that I’m going home and conking the fuck out.”

Étoiles makes a sound that probably means something like ‘holy shit say less king’. “Okay!”

Five minutes later, and he’s warping back to Étoiles’ cave like a man on a mission. And in a way, he is. “Welcome back, worthy challenger,” the cucumber greets him, crossed-legged in the middle of the dojo, and Phil snorts because the music box is blasting Smash Bros music now. “You’re such a fucking nerd, oh my God.”

“It gives me strength, Phil. It’s my final form.” Étoiles gets up, stick already in hand, bouncing on his heels with anticipation. “Autofeed still off?”

“Yup. How’s your sugar?” Étoiles checks his monitor quickly, gives a thumbs up. “Good. No holding back?”

“I never hold back, Phil. Let’s go.”

There is no countdown this time — both opponents slip into quiet assessment, circling each other slowly, slowly. Étoiles does a strange head-tilt, ears flicking to track Phil’s footsteps, the sounds of feathers ruffling. Phil’s eyes do not stray from him, hardened and focused, picking up on the change in the air. Étoiles wants him to go all out. So he will. And he has a plan.

(The bigger a thing is, the harder it is for me to understand it.)

Time to put that to the test, then.

Étoiles charges first this time, quick-footed, swerving at random moments to keep himself a hard-to-track target. Phil almost bursts into incredulous laughter because holy shit, he’s Naruto-running, what the fuck— but manages to keep his focus, waiting until the very last moment to thrust his wings downward with enough force to send him soaring abovehis opponent. Then, right as his feet touch the tatami and right as Étoiles screeches to a stop to spin back towards him

he spreads his wings

wide, wider

casting huge shadows on the four walls of the dojo

and lets his powers roll off of him like a dark mist, sparking with magic and wither-decay.

(The bigger a thing is, the harder it is for me to understand it.)

It’s a gamble, a costly one that saps his Feds-capped magic like crazy — but it pays off, because Étoiles staggers back, confusion etched across his features. His head subtly snaps in all directions, like he doesn’t know where to look, his ears swivelling to try and pinpoint him. Bingo. Phil has made his nebula-self big, toobig for Étoiles, rendering the warrior effectively blind. Well, double-blind.

Phil doesn’t wait for the other to find a counter to this, curls his wings forward then snaps them back — they launch him forward at breakneck speed and create a gust of wind that makes the paper lanterns swing on their hooks, and then Phil is slamming into Étoiles like a literal hurricane.

The plant hybrid gasps, fingers slackening from the sheer strength of the impact — his weapon slips out of his grasp to clatter against the ground and roll out of bounds. His body describes a perfect curve and hits the wooden floor with a loud thud. He barely has the time to blink the dizziness away before something presses against the side of his neck, and he freezes completely. “Gotcha,” Phil preens, looming above him. The end of his stick is right against Étoiles’ pulse point, the threat crystal clear, and he’s a writhing mass of burning stars and cosmic fury.

The energy rolling off of him washes over Étoiles in waves, makes his skin tingle, and he recognizes it as withering. Withering coming from Philza himself, whose outlines are impossible to pinpoint, lost in the cloud of magic and giant Angel wings.

...Okay, this is sick as hell, Étoiles thinks, and he can feel somethingwithin him grow, a presence rejoicing in the back of his mind. Ink bleeds into his eyes, then under it, twin lines of darkness going down his cheeks and neck. (Flashes of a white spiral on a dark expanse, of whispers and stolen Time.) He feels cold, but he feels good about it, and he’s not scared at all — this is fine, more than fine. Withering is harmless for Death-touched things. Things like him and Phil. He laughs, loud and ecstatic, this is fun, so fun! “Aaah. Clever bird, clever Phil, I like. Okay.”

Then something wraps around Phil’s ankle and pulls it forward, breaking his balance and making him hit the ground ass-first with a startled caw. He grits his teeth, shoots a glare towards his leg to see—

—blinks at the sight of a green vine wrapped around his ankle. His eyes trace along its length. He’s seen this before, but only once, months ago. Right after harvesting a freshly-regrown Étoiles out of the ground, a week after his Code-related demise. “Oh,” Philza says, and Étoiles smirks in return.

His tail is long, as long as he is tall, and covered in large, healthy green leaves. It swishes against the tatami in a serpentine motion, the leaves rustling quietly, and Phil notices a half-star-shaped kink at the end of it. It’s... well, it’s pretty adorable actually, but something tells him Étoiles wouldn’t like that descriptor. “You kept it,” he says instead, fight-darkened eyes sparkling with something like kinship-euphoria. “You grew it out.”

“I did, I listened to you. I keep it wrapped around my waist, it works.”

“Told you it could come in handy.”

“You did. You’re always right about things, Philza.” Étoiles steps into a fighting stance, hands curled into fists, tail lashing left and right like a whip. Phil understands, lets out a quiet chuckle as he sends his own weapon flying out of the arena. So they’re doing it this way, huh. More than fine with him. “Nothing’s off the table then,” he hums, hands curling like claws at his sides, sharpening talons glinting ominously in the light of paper lanterns. His friend hums approvingly, and it’s all Phil needs to pounce.

They no longer try to evade, instead crashing into each other to cause as much damage as quickly as possible. Étoiles throws a jab, Phil retaliates with a smack of his wing to destabilise the other before slashing at his chest, tearing at his shirt and drawing the first blood. Because yes, Étoiles bleeds, deep cuts marring his dark green skin, chlorophyll sticking to Phil’s hands. Étoiles hisses, gets behind him and wraps his tail around Phil’s throat to choke him. Phil gasps, coughs, briefly flails before smacking the other with his wings until the tail goes slack. Phil rips it off him and whirls around to pull at it sharply — Étoiles falls, but not before grabbing onto Phil’s robes to pull him down with him.

Things get messy after that — a flurry of feathers and leaves and punches and kicks, one that clocks Phil in the jaw and makes him taste blood, one at the side of his head that makes him see stars. He hisses, screeches, swipes, again and again, and Étoiles blocks some of them with his arms, arms that gain more and more tiger-stripe cuts, but many go through and eat at his health, heart after heart. The warrior retaliates with a headbutt that makes the Angel’s world darken for a second, burning blood getting into his eyes and half-blinding him. Maybe it’s more fair this way, not that it slows him down at all.

They punch, claw, snap their teeth at each other like rabid dogs — chipping at each other’s health with no care, no limits. Dark red and greenish white smear against the straw tatami, but that’s fine, that’s okay, they are playing, they are having fun, and Philza feels alive, alive, alive!

(The whole time, Étoiles never touches his wings. Which goes against the whole ‘nothing off the table’ thing, yet Philza is grateful for it. He’s also grateful none of the eggs are here to see this.)

Philza has no idea how long this lasts, lost in the thrill of a fight the likes of which he hasn’t experienced in decades. But eventually the doom of someone getting downed makes every muscle in his body lock up, and he’s still standing. Or, kneeling over Étoiles with his talons right above his jugular, the other hand pinning the warrior’s hands above his head to keep him from hitting back. Semantics.

Étoiles has gone limp, heaving, his body a canvas of bruises and bloody cuts. “I win,” Phil realizes, wings quivering, all fluffed up in a show of victory. “I… won.”

“Well played, well played,” his warrior wheezes out in response, and Phil’s never seen anyone so happy about getting their shit kicked. Except maybe one person. But he won, Phil won, Étoiles is down and he himself still has… yes, two hearts to spare. He has won. They can stop. Right here. Right now.

But then. Étoiles, stupid and crazy and wonderful Étoiles, tilts his head back to offer him his throat, his binary-scarred face twisted in a feral grin. Philza gasps and leans back a little, eyes wide “Take your win, my bro,” he chirps, happy as can be, tail thumping against the tatami like an overpet cat. Tap, tap, tap, the countdown to his demise if Phil doesn’t up him soon. “Do it. You won’t. No balls, no bolas.”

And those words are the last push Phil needs for his Elytrian code to take over. He bares his teeth, eyes darkening to a pitch black that eats up his entire sclera, until the white of Étoiles’ teeth gets reflected back at him — not that he can see it. 

Phil’s wings spread out behind him, huge and dark and awe-inspiring even in their frayed state, and the withering aura that exudes from them paints Étoiles’ eternal night in bursts of star-speckled purples and reds and blues.

It’s beautiful. And it’s terrifying. Étoiles is about to get killed by an Angel of Death, and he’s never been so goddamn scared and excited in his life.

 

Phil feels insane. He’s going feral, going sicko mode, or whatever other colloquialism that means his mind is drowning in the thrill of hunt, hunt, prey, yesyes. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Étoiles scared before, but there’s no mistaking those too-wide eyes, that subtle tremor in his friend’s wrists as Phil’s hand tightens around them. He can smell it too, like cut grass left to decay in the hot sun, and it’s making the End’s superpredator in him go zoomies inside his skull.

He growls, low and bone-deep and dangerous, his talons pushing harder against the paling, sweat-damp skin of Étoiles’ neck. prey? flock. prey. prey? kill, eat, yesyes. Étoiles isn’t human, but he has something close to a heart, and he bleeds like one — greenish white chlorophyll that smells strong and tastes awful, bitter.

(Phil knows that, because Purgatory happened. More specifically, Bolas happened, gas masks and ritual sacrifices and fresh blood always lingering at the corner of their mouths. He misses his flock — misses all the ones that are still gone, carving cookie-cutter negative shapes in his heart — everything else about that hellscape, not so much anymore. Maybe he’s healing, just a little.)

 

His talons are just a hair away from perforating Étoiles’ jugular, so close to making not-quite-blood pour out like a fountain. But then he freezes, going silent, because the part of him that is still sane recognizes that this is a terrible idea.

It’s a terrible idea because Étoiles is bad at knowing when to stop, bad at spotting the line between what challenges him and what hurts him. And Philza understands that this, this is a bad. The cucumber hybrid is a creature of instants — fugue moments, rash decisions, the kind you would look back on later and go oh, yeah, that was dumb and maybe not worth it. Hence Philza has to be the responsible one, has to ignore his base instincts screeching at him to hunt, kill, kill, lest this ends badly. Like Étoiles getting mauled to death by what is supposed to be his most trusted friend. Again. (They don’t talk about that time. Just like they don’t talk about Étoiles’ betrayal, neither want to reminisce over Phil’s teeth tearing his throat out in the middle of a Hunger disaster. Not-so-fun fact: Étoiles doesn’t taste like cucumber at all.)

“Enabler,” the avian warbles, talons slowly lifting off the hollow of Étoiles’ throat. “M’not killing you.” And Étoiles, like the little shit that he is, has the gallto pout at him. “Why not?”

“Because then I’ll have to regrow your ass in my potato field for a week, you twat.” Also I think it’s not good for you, and my sanity is at an all-time low so I don’t need cold-blooded murder to push me over the edge, he adds in petto.

Étoiles blinks. Huffs out a laugh, something a little unhinged, but also a little relieved. “Ah, yeah! I forgot, because I respawned normally in Purgatory. Okay, you win.” The warrior’s smile softens to something more like him,  and just like that, the tension vanishes, the buzz of fear and aggression replaced by something light and playful. Étoiles baps his hands against his chest, grabbing at his robe to tug him down into a hug.

And Philza’s hindbrain floods the rest of him with happy, happy, yesyes, because Étoiles isn’t really a touchy-feely person and neither is Phil, but this feels right. “GGs,” the crow says back, warbling and chirping like crazy, the black in his eyes receding. yesyes, mine, mine, yesyes, yesyes! And to his surprise, Étoiles responds, not with a crude imitation of his own bird sounds, but with something… different. And Phil’s not sure any word in his vocab could ever describe it accurately — but something deep within him knows that if starlight was a sound, this would certainly be it. “Oh, oh, he is so good. The GOAT, the actual GOAT, best man on the planet Philza Minecraft,” Étoiles mock-sobs against him. “He wakes up in the morning casually being the best, and he takes care of two eggs and says fuck to the president’s office from the wall, and he finally beats me. My legend, Felipe, Felipe!”

Phil shakes from the force of his hilarity — a regular occurrence whenever he hangs around his favourite pickle man for long enough. silly, he warbles between fits of belly-aching, hiccup-inducing laughter, and he leans down to nuzzle against his friend’s mess of dark green hair (leaves?). silly. silly. flock. “I do see Forever wave at me from his office sometimes,” he hums, once he’s calmed down enough to speak again. “He makes kissy faces at me through the glass, so I flip him off.”

Étoiles hums in acceptance, finally pushes Phil back to shimmy out from under him with a small héhé to lay on his back, starfish-style. Phil rolls onto his own back, and they both stare at the interlacing wooden beams of the dojo roof for a little while, basking in the fuzz of a fading adrenaline rush.

(Phil hasn’t seen his favourite Brazilian as much lately. Silly, sun, friend-protector. He probably has his hands full, what with returning to his political duties after so long. Still, Philza worries — he thinks of black tar clinging to sun-kissed skin and tired sienna eyes, above a smile that just doesn’t shine as bright as it used to.) “I kinda like it, though. It’s like our good morning. Never tell him I said that.”

“I wooooon’t, I promise.”

“Thank you. For the fights.” Philza closes his eyes. He is here, he is real, everything about this moment is so real. It’s comforting, a balm on his fraying psyche. “It was fun.”

“It was so fun. Please fight with me again like this sometime, no sticks, yes? You have to come back so I give you your black belt anyway.”

“Maybe. We’ll see.”

“I can hear you smiling, Phil. You want to, I knowww.”

“M’not smiling at all, dumbass.”

Étoiles does that high-pitched hum of his that means he’s not buying it, reaches towards his friend — his leader, his wielder, his death-touched Angel. Cool fingers, untouched by code, playfully trace over each of Philza’s features, feeling out the dimples and the crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes — pun very much intended. “You’re so bad at lying, Philza,” he sing-songs, playful and content. “I know you too well. Maybe I can’t see you, but I can see you.”

And goddammit, Philza actually does feel seen in this moment, anxieties melting away for now. How does he do it. How does this reckless, thrill-seeking cucumber man with a limited (albeit pretty good, and improving) grasp on English so consistently drop the most gut-punching lines in this entire server. Étoiles is something else. “...Yeah. I see you too, mate,” Phil breathes out, and the rough texture of the tatami is starting to dig criss-cross patterns into his back, but he wants to stay like this. Just a little longer.

 

(Philza is damaged goods. But so is Étoiles, and so is everyone he knows. But maybe they can both pretend, for a little while.)

#qsmp #qsmp fic #fanfic #philza #étoiles #codebreakers #commission

[bambithewriter]

Student's pet 3

Human!Lo'ak x female reader

College AU

Read part 1 here

Read part 2 here

Content: MDNI, 18+, all characters are aged up, dom Lo'ak, sub reader, p in v, creampie

Summary: Lo'ak holds himself to his promise and creampies his little nerd.

A/N: The long awaited part three is finally here! Writing this part had me all hot and bothered. Human Lo'ak is a need at this point. Anyway, enjoy this smutty piece of work my horny babies💗

Lo’ak had me on my knees, pressed against him with my back resting against his chest. One hand in between my legs, flicking my clit back and forth.

He didn’t stop until I couldn’t take it anymore, prolonging my orgasm for as long as possible. The sheets were messed up, covered in my slick and his precum. 

“Hmm, I have so much cum saved for you baby. I’m gonna turn you into my little creampie next.” 

His hands held onto my hips as he pulled out of my pussy. My lips parted, eyebrows scrunching up.

“Nngh.” My pussy was so sensitive, the mere feeling of his cock sliding out of me causing me to shiver. 

“Sshh, we’re not done, baby. Gonna make daddy cum first.” 

With his hands on my hips, he guided me to turn around. He pulled me with him, resting his back against the headboard, cock standing straight leaking precum.

It looked intimidating, angry and pent up ready to spurt its seed any time now. 

He wrapped his hand around it, stroking it up and down. He looked at me with a lust-filled gaze motioning for me to come closer to him with his free hand. 

I gulped, crawling closer until I was hovering above his cock.

He watched how some of my juices fell onto his cock from my pussy. ‘Mmm fuck, you’re so fucking hot.” He hissed, already on the brink of cumming.

“Hop on it, my little bunny.”

“Lo’ak, I-I…I never sat on a dick before.” I mumbled shyly, looking down at him with a clueless gaze.

He groaned softly, my innocence only turning him on more. “Fuck, I’ll help you. Come here.” He mumbled impatiently, his hand leaving his cock to grab me by my hips. 

“Just slowly sink on it, babe.” 

I nodded my head obediently, nervously chewing on my lower lip. I rested my hands on his shoulders to keep myself stable. The moment I did that, he leaned his head to the side to plant a kiss on my hand. 

“Good girl, now line it up to your precious little hole and sit on it.” He said through gritted teeth, struggling to hold back the load that was threatening to spurt out.

“Okay, I think I understand. I-I’ll go slowly an- nnngh.” I whined softly when I fell on his cock, my knees giving out under me. He was so, so deep, the tip of his cock hitting a hidden sweet spot. 

“Shit, you’re so fucking clumsy. Always needing me to guide you.” He hissed softly, his hands gripping onto my hips.

He bounced me on top of him while thrusting up to keep hitting that sweet spot. 

“Lo, please I can’t. "It's too good.” I cried out, already on the brink of another orgasm. 

His eyes rolled back when he felt my pussy clenching around his cock so tightly.

He spanked my ass before his large veiny hand wrapped around my neck, pulling me closer for a messy kiss. His tongue fought with mine, dominating me easily. His kiss was dirty and rough, drool running past my lips. 

When he pulled away he cupped my cheek with the hand that was previously around my neck, forcing his thumb in my mouth. I immediately started sucking, tongue running over his finger. His other hand held onto my hip, gripping it so tight it would surely leave a mark. 

He guided me to make grinding movements, knowing it would feel better for me. I cried out at the feeling of my clit getting friction, his cock still stuffed deep. 

“Cum for me.” He spoke in a low voice. 

That’s all it took for me to let loose, pussy clenching around his cock, my eyes rolling back. “A-aaah Lo’ak!” I cried out, my warm slick running down his cock. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He hissed, his eyes closing as he couldn’t hold back any longer. 

My eyes closed, a soft mewl slipping past my parted lips as I felt his warm seed filling me up. Lo’ak let out a soft “Fuck yeah”, loving the feeling of his cock getting milked out. 

“Lo’ak, feel s-so full.” 

Lo’ak grinned as he listened to me explaining the feeling. “That’s something you’re going to have to get used to, my sweet nerd. Your body will crave my special cream every time you’re with me. Cream made only by you and me.” 

I barely heard him, eyes half-lidded, completely messed up. My body was hot and sweaty with a soft blush planted on my cheeks. Thighs on either side of his legs, sticking to his toned ones and trembling vigorously. 

“It’s so deep.” I softly whined, my body tensed, and my face flushed. I could feel him in my stomach. Lo’ak wasn’t the biggest guy around. He was toned but slim. His cock, however…

He was huge. The shaft was veiny and thick but nothing could explain his insane length. 

“I ain’t pulling out of you, baby. Gonna keep cockwarming this snug little pussy of yours.” He said in a mocking tone glaring at me with lust-filled eyes.

My pussy kept on clenching around his cock, my body tensing as I couldn't stop whimpering.

“Oh, is my baby too sensitive hmm? Come here, sweetheart.” He cooed, pulling me to lay against him. His hands found their way to my scalp, massaging it in soft circles. 

“It’s okay, babe. I got you. We’ll have round two later.”

#human!lo'ak #lo'ak #lo'ak sully #lo'ak sully x reader #lo'ak smut #lo'ak x fem!reader #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak x you #avatar the way of water #atwow

[solarpunkani]

Sonic the Hedgehog and Solarpunk Ideals

Alright, it's June 23rd which means not only is it Solarpunk Aesthetic Week, but it's also Sonic the Hedgehog's 32nd birthday. Let's all say Happy Birthday Sonic the Hedgehog.

Overall, that means it's time for me to do something I usually don't do on this blog--talk about Sonic the Hedgehog, one of my favorite series of all times. Specifically, how I feel it embodies Solarpunk at least a little bit. Hopefully you'll see where I'm coming from by the end of this.

Real quick though, special shout out to @modern-solarpunk for being my beta reader 100/10 owe you my life.

Alright let’s make one thing clear. I’m a Sonic nerd. I’ve been a Sonic nerd since at least the 5th grade. Sonic the hedgehog is one of My Things. IDK if I’d call it a hyperfixation, but it’s definitely one of My Things, and it’s been one of My Things longer than gardening or even Solarpunking and all the other stuff y’all know me for has been. I am about to talk y’alls ears off. Buckle up.

With that in mind, I’m not going to pretend that the Sonic franchise is a perfect franchise made by perfect people working under a perfect corporation. Even ignoring the timeline disasters, retconning, and rushed projects (*cough cough Sonic 06 and Sonic Boom cough cough*), Sonic the Hedgehog is made by a corporation in a capitalistic world who has done some… iffy things in the past, present, and likely the future. We are, here, today, strictly talking about two things--the creation of Sonic and the creation of Dr. Eggman. There will be a super special third topic I bring up later, but that's gonna be its own post. I’ll bring up a handful of things from the shows, comics, movies, etc. If I finish writing and editing and posting this whole lengthy diatribe and someone ignores this paragraph and brings up some inane unrelated shit that the Big Corporation Guys did That One Time Months/Years Ago I might snap. Yes, corporations are bad. Yes, I like Sonic. Let’s establish that.

Ok let’s actually get started.

Sonic the Hedgehog the Dude, Tiny Rebellions, and Freedom

Alright, so Sonic the Hedgehog is a series of games, movies, comic books, TV shows--it's a whole thing, it's an entire franchise. The basics of what you need to know here is that a little 3’3” superpowered anthropomorphic blue hedgehog dude and his array of equally-animalian and equally-colorful friends are ruining the robotics-based evil world takeover plans of a 6’1” egg-shaped human dude on the regular. Occasionally, there are other villains, and other storylines, and sometimes the motivations change, but that sentence boils down the Sonic the Hedgehog storyline to its base essentials. 

The Sonic franchise was dreamed up in 1990 when SEGA needed a new mascot to compete with Nintendo’s iconic Mario. Personality-wise, he’s said to have been inspired by “a modern sensibility of wanting to get things done right away, righting wrongs as they presented themselves instead of letting them linger.” As we currently know him, with Sonic “What you see is what you get--just a guy who loves adventure.” He’s a free-spirited drifter who goes with the flow, valuing freedom above all else and wanting nothing more than to live by his own rules and whims rather than bowing to the expectations of others. He loves interacting with the many cultures on his planet (which we mostly see in Sonic Unleashed, but still), trying local dishes with friends frequently. Overall, Sonic is driven by a strong sense of justice and fairness, fighting for the ideal of freedom rather than the name of the law--and he always fights for the underdog. He likes to handle things on his own, but he isn’t above looking to his friends for help when needed--and acknowledges their role in his life and achievements regularly (if he can be a bit smug at times). He appreciates scenic views and nature, with a special fondness for places filled with plants--we see him do this lots in the series--and he hates when people destroy it for their own gain. He doesn’t hate cities, though, and finds they have their own beauty.

So what’s Solarpunk about this? In my eyes, a good bit. If you don’t know what Solarpunk is, it’s described on Wikipedia as ‘a literary and artistic movement that envisions and works towards actualizing a sustainable future interconnected with nature and community.” Aesthetically, I like to describe it as a mix between sci-fi and cottagecore, with a particular leaning towards some steampunk and some cyberpunk elements, but in a brighter, cleaner, more hopeful way. It's important to note, however, that Solarpunk is also a practical and political action mindset--as much as Solarpunks dream of a hopeful future and work to visualize it, we also work to learn the concepts and take the actions needed to make it a reality. I’m not going to sit here and pretend that Sonic is super politically revolutionary, I’m here to talk about how Sonic fits into the aesthetics of Solarpunk.

As such, lets get into the point--I feel like Sonic is pretty Solarpunk, personality-wise. He just fits a lot of the core tenants--wants to right wrongs ASAP, whether they’re his wrongs or wrongs of the past. He values freedom, traveling, and beautiful natural places--a big chunk of Solarpunk is learning to appreciate and protect the natural species around you, and plenty of people have dreamed up nomadic Solarpunk societies. Even Sonic living by his own rules instead of bowing to expectations fits in Solarpunk--A Solarpunk Manifesto states that “the ‘punk’ in Solarpunk is about rebellion, counterculture… and enthusiasm. it is about going in a different direction than the mainstream…” People in the Solarpunk movement care deeply about freedom, justice, fairness, and fixing the broken systems we deal with today--and often start the legwork by forming or taking part in community-based movements and initiatives. We lean onto those around us for strength and courage, to work as a group to think of solutions to problems, whether that be something small like trading DIY patch instructions to bigger things like planning and creating community gardens to even sharing news about unionizing and more. There’s acts a Solarpunk can do alone--like guerrilla gardening, or moss graffiti, or drawing and writing concepts of a brighter future--but we all know we’re at our strongest when we’re not just one, but many. 

But one of my biggest arguments to Sonic being Solarpunk actually centers around his nemesis--Doctor Eggman.

Doctor Eggman as the Antithesis of Solarpunk

After all, it’s pretty hard to talk about how a hero of a series is Solarpunk without discussing the people and forces he fights against, and most of the time that’s Doctor Ivo Robotnik--better known to most as Dr. Eggman. He was developed more or less directly alongside Sonic the hedgehog, and as such the notes about his creation not only influence his character, but the character and vibe of most of the franchise so far. So who is Doctor Eggman?

Doctor Eggman is often described as the World’s Vilest Person--he’s evil, mean, cruel-spirited, and a self-proclaimed genius scientist who only really thinks about what he wants and what he needs to do to get it--getting pleasure in crushing anything that gets in his way. His main goal is to establish his Eggman Empire across the entire planet and build his own version of a utopia, Eggmanland--usually taking the form of a polluted, smog-filled city or a robotic theme park. His plans have varied from excavating natural spaces and turning woodland creatures into robotic slaves (Sonic 1, 2, 3), using doomsday devices to threaten nations and blow up the moon (Sonic Adventure 2), tie down planets for his own purposes (Sonic CD, Sonic Colors), or even using cosmic forces beyond his comprehension to flood metropolises or literally rip the planet apart (Sonic Adventure, Sonic Unleashed). In the comics and some shows, he even takes it a step further--a common theme with him is Roboticization, wherein people are forcibly turned from organic beings into robot slaves. Sometimes its a machine fulfilling this sometimes-irreversible process (Archie Comics, Sonic the Hedgehog Cartoon, Sonic Underground), while other times its an all-consuming virus that grows out of his control and turns almost the entire planet into raving robotic zombies (IDW Sonic Comics issues #12-29). He’s fueled by delusions of grandeur, believing that all of the world’s problems would be solved if he specifically were in charge of everyone all the time and had things his way, and makes robotic inventions and weapons to obtain power. He’s overflowing with self-confidence and pride, highlighting his ���scientific genius’ whenever he can. He’ll leave temporary allies to rot if it gives him a chance to take all the credit and power for  himself, he looks down on everyone else and sees them as insignificant, only interested in what benefits him. Fairness and community? With Doctor Eggman? Forget it, he’ll steal candy from a baby and then turn it into a robot if given the chance. And even with robotic helpers he makes himself, he quickly gets sick of them--Eggman doesn’t do friends. 

I’d compare him to Elon Musk, but at least Dr. Eggman is actually a genius.

A Solarpunk Manifesto was published in 2019, describing Solarpunk as “A movement in speculative fiction, art, fashion, and activism that seeks to answer and embody the question ‘what does a sustainable civilization look like, and how can we get there?’”. Eggmanland is not how we get there--Doctor Eggman is an embodiment of everything the Solarpunk ideology stands against, and not entirely by accident. Here’s a quote from Yuji Naka, one of the creators of Sonic the Hedgehog.

“Robotnik was created to be the opposite of Sonic, and to be the bad guy. At that time, there was opposition between "developers" and "environmentalists", and Robotnik was created to represent machinery and development.”

He represents it pretty well--his common motifs are imperialism and pollution, and his version of a utopia is often reminiscent of pre-EPA photos of US cities. Sometimes its done to a cartoonish level--but the point still stands. Whenever we catch glimpses of Eggman’s ‘Home Bases,’ whether its Scrap Brain Zone in Sonic 1, Chemical Plant in Sonic 2, Metallic Madness in Sonic CD, or elsewhere, we’re always seeing tons of mechanization, smog, pollution, and death robots.

Solarpunks aren’t opposed to technology--not in the slightest. But I feel its safe to say that any Solarpunk would be opposed to the over-industrialized, hyper-mechanized, pollution-riddled empire hellscape that Eggman would call heaven. (And you know damn well he'd be all over those Boston Dynamic robot dogs if he were real). To me, Eggman represents the grim-dark futures that apocalyptic stories tell us we’re barreling towards--the darker, less sunny side of the already dystopian cyberpunk genre. Solarpunk is the sun that burns away at smoggy futures, the light that reveals what we can have instead, the ideas that lead to actions to secure it. Its hope in a bottle--hope that we can enjoy and add to, a dream that we can help make into a reality. The ideals are chock full of resisting the real-life Eggmans who want to send humanity into a nose-dive of mechanization and energy-burning self-destruction for the sake of short-lived profits and smug ego-trips. 

Is Sonic a strictly Solarpunk series? I wouldn’t necessarily say so. But I think if the themes and terms had existed in 1990, it certainly would have been cited as a bit of an inspiration. Whether the Solarpunk community would have been chill with a corporation citing the term as inspiration is a whole other deal.

Stay tuned for this posts' sequel, where I talk about how I feel my favorite game in the series--Sonic Colors--is Solarpunk.

#solarpunk #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #solarpunk aesthetic week #out of queue #ani rambles #nobody call me cringe i'll accept critique i'll even accept 'i disagrees' but if you call me cringe or bully me you're getting blocked #BUT ALSO IM NOT DONE YET I STILL HAVE TO POST PART TWO #UPDATE: I'VE ADDED THE LINKS GO HAM

[potter-imagines]

Being Thor and Loki's Little Sister and Dating Peter Parker Would Include...

Notes: wow I haven't written a marvel one in a long time pls don't read too much into the timeline lol I know things overlap but just go with it (:

Warnings: none... I think ??

Word Count: 3.6k (sorry its a bit long for a write like this but I couldn't help myself)

You managed to do a decent job at keeping your relationship under wraps from your brothers for quite some time

Of course every other member on the team knew before the two of you even begun officially dating

Peter had spent three months ranting and raving to Tony Stark about how cute he thought you were and how much he liked you

Tony insisted time and time again he should tell you but Peter’s fear of rejection was much too large for him to find the courage for that

Unbeknownst to him,

You had spilled about your crush on Peter to Wanda and Nat almost a week after living in the compound

Being the only other girls there besides Pepper, it was easy to confide in them

Day after day you would wander to Wanda’s room and lay on her bed and gush about how handsome Peter was and how kind of a heart he had

Wanda found it adorable

And Bucky, Steve and Sam had placed the pieces together after days on end of watching Peter and yourself flirt like school kids in the gym during training

Even after being frozen for years, Steve recognized the look of smitten on Peter’s face when he talked to you

Bruce on the other hand had to sit through most of the kids talks with Tony in the lab so he figured it out fast

So when the two of you finally confessed your feelings for one another and Peter asked you out, there was only one road block holding the moment back from perfection

Your brothers

You and Peter shared the news with all the other team members expect the two, possibly most important in your case, members

You’ve been close to your brothers since you were brought into this world so it wasn’t like you didn’t want to tell them

It was more or less how overprotective they could be that made you bite your tongue

And as nervous as you are, Peter is 1,000% more worried about your brother’s finding out

Like honestly can you imagine how petrified Peter would be to tell Thor and Loki you two were dating

He’d purposely walk in the opposite direction every time he saw either of the two for the first week

Couldn’t stop fumbling with his words when he spoke to either of them

Like he was terrified

It’s sort of a cliché to have protective older brothers but older brothers who were also both Gods ????

Peter felt like a deadman walking

When the day finally came that you did tell your brothers about your relationship with Peter, it was absolutely cringe worthy

Peter had been coming home to the tower after a long day at Midtown High School when he spotted you the second he stepped foot out of the elevator

His excitement had clouded his judgement as he failed to check and see if the coast was clear

“Y/n! Hey!”

He nearly tumbled over his own feet as he rushed over to you

His face was gleaming with happiness and for a brief moment you felt a smile creep to your face until you were pulled back to reality by his hand reaching out to grasp yours

Your eyes widened in shock as you stared at Peter and before you could warn him to stop, he had planted a soft kiss on your cheek

That adorable smile was glowing from his face as he reached down for your hand only to fall once you pulled your hand away

He gave you a look of confusion, clearly surprised by your lack of response

But when an awkward cough sounded from behind him, he suddenly knew why

Peter didn’t have enough time to make any sort of a move when a husky, all too familiar voice spoke up,

“Hello, man of spiders. May I ask why you just kissed our little sister?” “Oh shit- I uh, well you see I…um...she had something on her face so I uh…”

Loki would snicker in amusement at seeing the boy squirm and prolong his torture “So you kissed her?” “Yeah…” “Hm, there something you’d like to share, little one?”

It wasn’t exactly the way you were hoping to break the news to your brothers

But it was certainly one way of doing it

The rest of the night was filled with awkward tension as you and Peter had to confess the truth to your brothers, who then made you share the news with the rest of the team

Thankfully, the rest of the team pretended they were just hearing about your new relationship for the first time, seeing as no one wanted to deal with an angry Thor

Now let’s get into your relationship with Peter

Peter Parker is the most caring person in the universe

Honestly

And dating him certainly came with it’s perks

You can expect to wake up every morning with a fresh coffee and a pastry on your nightstand, courtesy of Peter

He’ll also write you a sweet little ‘good morning’ note with a sketch of spider-man hanging from a web

(( he’s actually pretty talented in the doodling department ))

Makes cute sketches of him as spiderman and you as a princess ( vv fitting)

But also draws you as a total badass saving the galaxy bc… well you are

Count on him to be the first person to greet you when the sunrises and the last person to wish you a goodnight when it falls

Gets Mr. Stark to buy you an iphone so he can teach you how to use it

Has your name as “goddess” in his phone

The first thing he does is teach you about texting so he can pay you in imessage games

Refuses to play you in battleship since you somehow have crushed him every single time

Gets slightly annoyed with the overwhelming amount of random photos you snap of him

But he knows its all new to you and finds it irritatingly adorable

Loves it when you walk home with him from school

Will also keep reminding you that you shouldn’t have walked alone all the way to Midtown High School alone

Peter often forgets that you’re Asgardian and can protect yourself just fine

But it’s so cute how protective he is

He’s very observant and notices nearly everything

Like when you’re feeling a bit homesick

He picks up on it right away and will ask Thor and/or Loki for advice

Or when you start to become bored and tired at one of Star’s parties

Peter made his way over you before you even had the chance to turn and search for him

He’d escort you back to your room and lay with you until he was positive you had fallen asleep

Kisses to the top of your head

Is the boyfriend that will take your makeup off for you if you wear any

(( and sets yours lashes on the nightstand so neatly and labels which eye they were on cause the poor boy doesn’t understand ))

Spends weeks learning how to master the intricate braids that adorn your head

It’s so cute cause he’ll sit and look up Youtube videos and try to learn how to make the different braids and is just so confused but so determined

Taking Peter to visit Asgard

“Woah- this place looks like something from Lord of the Rings! It’s awesome!” “Lord of the Rings? I’ve never met that God.” “Uh, no, it’s a movie from Earth. We can watch it when we go back.” “To Midgard?” “Midgard? No, to New York.”

Loves it when your people refer to you as “Princess Y/n”

For some reason it makes him blush

Will tell everyone back on Earth that he’s dating a princess

I could def see Peter getting annoyed and frustrated with the Asgardian men trying to flirt and win your heart

Although that’s something that already belong to Peter

And even though Peter trusts you entirely

He’s still insecure from time to time

Especially when he sees how much taller and stronger Asgardian men look in comparison to him

But he finds reassurance in the feeling of your hand in his and the gleeful smile adorning your face as you show him around your homeland

Attempting to help Peter study

Although you’re not much help to Midgardian school work “Peter, darling, I don’t have a clue what a watergate is and I haven’t an idea how that could be scandalous.”

Maths however you excelled in

And Peter was thoroughly surprised to find you had the sequence of PI memorized to the one hundredth number- and in song form

Holding your hand 24/7

Endless cuddles on the couch

And when you’re walking around together, he does that thing where he swings your hands and back forth

Movie theater dates… at the tower b/c your brothers feel the need to be in close proximity the you guys at all times

Trying ice cream for the first time with Peter at two in the morning

One of Peter’s favorite things to do with you is take you through a walk in his world

At least three times a week Peter and you will walk around the city and find new things your Asgardian self has yet to experience

Like pizza

New York pizza to be exact

And hot chocolate

Ice skating at Rockefeller Center once the weather got cold

Loves to take you for drives in the more woodsy land of New York once fall set in and the leaves began to change

But by far his favorite thing is showing you Midgardian films and movies of all sorts

He loves that you don’t judge him for nerding out over his love for films

Not to mention you actually sit and watch Star Wars with him

(( maybe it was the whole space element but Peter was just thrilled you liked it ))

But then he shows you ‘Alien’

And it was an instant regret

It took him the rest of the night to convince you that the movie was fake

You made him sleep in your room just for reassurance

Your favorite out of the films Peter played was called ‘Toy Story’

Buzz Lightyear reminded you of Thor

In terms of TV shows

F.R.I.E.N.D.S. which quickly became your guys comfort show

Parks & Rec too “That Andy fellow looks an awful lot like Starlord, don’t you think?”

Peter refuses to let you watch Black Mirror

After the whole incident with Alien

Black Mirror didn’t seem like a good idea

Constantly teasing from the rest of the Avengers

Tony just can’t help it

He loves tormenting the two of you

Especially when Thor and/or Loki are around

“Hey Peter, I thought I saw you go into Y/n’s room last night but I didn’t see you leave until the morning. Heard a lot of noise too- thought Y/n was getting attacked. What was that about?”

Or

“Kid, I got you those condoms you asked for. How’d you manage to run out of that last box so quick? I just bought it for you a week ago!” “Messing with you, they’re just sugar packets- Thor put Peter down right now!”

Aunt May absolutely adores you

Always tells Peter how sweet you are and is constantly inviting you over for dinner

Lets you two have sleepovers in his room at her place

As long as the door stays open

Peter can’t stop laughing when you compliment May on her ability to make an amazing bowl of cereal

She thought it was a joke seeing as she burned dinner the night before to a crisp and laughs until she’s in tears

And you’re literally sitting there so confused, clearly not understanding the joke

Peter then takes you on a trip to a grocery store for the first time to show you a whole aisle full of cereal

It is then that you realize Aunt May didn’t hand make the fruity pebbles

She still laughs about it to this day

Befriending Ned and listening enthusiastically while he gives you a full speech on the franchise Star Wars

And his rant on how terrible Star Trek is in comparison

Is shocked when you ask questions out of genuine interest

Ned immediately takes a liking to you after that and asks Peter daily to invite you to hangout

Whenever Stark adds an upgrade to his suit, you’re the first person Peter shows it to

He shares quite literally everything with you

As do you to him

The rest of the Avengers love gossiping about you guys

Nat and Wanda have already started planning the wedding and Pepper has the perfect venue in mind, much to your brothers dismay

For some reason

Thor and Loki are always within reasonable distance, enough so they can keep an eye on you but also give some sense of privancy

Thor is def always the first one to step in

“Peter, please remove your hand from my sister’s behind.” “Oh uh, ye-yeah… sorry, Mr.Thor.”

Loki would find Peter amusing

He loves to mess with him whenever given the chance

“Ah, Peter. Good to see you. I’m sure Y/n informed you of our task today. Very impressed that you offered yourself as the sacrifice to the aliens-” “Wait, what? Y/n?!” “He’s kidding, Peter.”

Everyone in the Avenger’s tower knew Peter was lactose intolerant and knew the repercussions of the boy consuming any sort of dairy

(( he physically cannot leave the bathroom for a full day ))

Yet Loki regularly will swap Peter’s specially labeled almond milk with a jug of skim milk just for the hell of it

There’s something so hilarious to him about the look of panic and alarm that smacks abruptly across Peter’s face as he quickly stumbles out of the kitchen to his room

It keeps him laughing for days

You’ll just shoot your brother a look of disapproval, clearly certain it was his doing

“Loki, why did Peter run off?” “Not sure, darling sister, maybe he’s got one of those stomach bugs. I’ve heard Midgardians are prone to them…weak bodies and such.” "You switched out his milk again didn’t you.” “I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re accusing me of, little one.”

Thor is a bit more hesitant on accepting your relationship with his fellow Avenger

He trusts that Peter would never harm you

Although he did not trust that you would never be harmed because of Peter

It was risky enough that both your brothers were big names in space, as well on Earth, however

Thor knew Loki and himself were capable of protecting you but Peter?

He was just a kid, in Thor’s eyes

However the one thing that kept him from telling you this was seeing how happy Peter made you

As your older brother, Thor trusted your judgement and tried his best to be accepting of his little sister dating

And as much as he wanted to deny it, he saw crystal clear the care and love Peter gave to you and he wasn’t willing to break that for you

Still

Thor is the type of brother to barge into a room and shove himself between Peter and yourself without warning

This man does not care at all

At least Loki has the decency to give you two space as a couple

Thor does not

He is constantly third wheeling on your dates and will ‘accidentally’ walk into rooms he knows you two are in claiming he forgot something

Not that he ever grabs anything,

He’ll usually just stand and stare at the two of you until you either leave the room or ask him to leave

To which he always answers,

“No.”

But with a smile

A smug smile

PDA is something he will never be okay with

Thor will yank Peter back by the collar every time he sees his lips on yours and glare at him, “Man of spiders, I know you’re in love with my little sister but kissing her infront of me is too far.”

And Loki will physically gag just to piss you off

For the most part, your relationship with Peter is nearly perfect

It would be entirely perfect if you weren’t constantly worrying about him dying on a mission or getting hurt

But still, just like any couple, you had your moments

And when you did fight, it was typically over Peter’s safety or him not wanting you to tag along for a mission

Your common way of dealing with conflict was the silent treatment

Which is pure torture for Peter

Not only does he miss the sound of your voice

He misses having you around

Seeing your smile

Hearing you laugh from something he said

He felt terrible everytime

He’d go to Tony for advice and spend hours rambling on to him about how sorry he was for yelling at you and for adding to the fight

Tony would half listen while he worked away on a new system and suit, offering a ‘yeah’ and ‘hmm’ every few seconds which pleased Peter who thought his mentor was fully listening

And after almost two hours of his non-stop talking, Tony Stark had reached his limit

Setting his wrench down on the metal table with a thud he turned around to face the young boy

“Kid, why’re you saying all this to me and not her? I mean, I’m all ears but I’m also not Y/n. I know we’re both good looking so I can see why you mixed us up, but you should be talking to her right now.”

Similar to Peter you also had someone to confide in when the road got rocky

Loki had always been the one you shared all your secrets with

As children you were attached at the hip to both your brothers but Loki a smidgen more than Thor

Your father, Odin, had Thor at his side 24/7 growing up

While he was busy learning the ropes to ruling Asgard, Loki and yourself run amuck causing trouble left and right through the royal palace

Through the years of bonding Loki become your best friend, and you his

So when trouble struck in paradise, your older brother was the one you ran to

He’d welcome you with open arms and a questioning gaze

Loki is by far the best listener in your family

Instead of telling you what to do, he asks what you want, which is a refreshing change

After a long talk with Loki you’d search the tower high and low for Peter while ironically Peter was doing the same thing

When you did finally make-up, it felt like coming home

The apologies were so sincere and genuine

You’d end up having a sleepover in your room watching 80’s films that Peter claimed were ‘iconic’ and laying in his arms

And that’s where you felt complete

Fights never occurred often but bickering ???

DAILY

You two bickered playfully over everything under the sun

Like who’s the better superhero; Ironman or Captain American

Or

Debates between living in New York and living in Asgard

Loves to pull up Midgardian inventions and ask you to guess what it is “Princess, what do you think this is?” “Oh! Oh! I’ve seen this one! Tony has one in his kitchen!” “Okay, so what is it?” “Yes, it’s a chicken nugget maker!” “It’s actually an air fryer but we only ever make chicken nuggets in them so I’ll give you a half point.”

Peter sneaking out of your room at the crack of dawn and sprinting to his

As much as Thor and Loki liked him and supported the relationship

He was sure they’d both team up to murder him if they caught him sleeping in your bed

Steve and Tony, who seem to be incapable of sleep, have watched him tiptoe out of your room numerous times but they only share a look of amusement then go back to their previous discussion

Playing hide-n-go-seek and tag on rainy days at the tower

Cuddling in Peter’s bed while he asks you to tell him stories about Asgard

Loves hearing about your childhood and what it’s like to grow up with siblings

Is fascinated when you tell him about Heimdall

Stealing Peter’s hoodies

Especially his Midtown High School ones

They’re insanely soft

Sweet little kisses throughout the day

He's just so sweet and gentle

Loves getting to hold you and snuggle in his bed

Most weekends you spend lounging on the couch with Peter’s head in your lap while you play with his hair

Other times you’re sitting next to Peter on his bed watching him play some video game and asking a million questions “Who is that man, Peter?” “That’s me, he’s the main character of the game. That’s Mario, babe.” “You’re not Mario- you’re Peter.” “No, the main character of this game is Mario, I’m just playing him.” “Oh… and what is that green dinosaur creature?” “That’s Yoshi!” “Adorable.”

Making out between games

In terms of... y'know... sex

Neither of you were keen on rushing the process

You had tip toed on the line multiple times yet never fully crossed it

Until you had decided to make the first real move after being together for about five months

You trusted him with all your heart so it wasn't exactly scary, but rather exciting

He had a way of making you feel safe, comfortable, and loved all at once

Lets be honest, Peter nearly fainted the first time he saw you naked

And still, no matter how many times the two of you have sex,

He worships every inch of you like it was your first time all over again

You couldn't have asked for a better lover

Dating Peter means a new adventure everyday

You’re constantly learning new things about each other and from each other

Despite coming from two very different worlds

You’ve never felt more connected to a soul until Peter came along

#peter parker imagine #Peter parker #Peter Parker imagines #tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #loki #thor #thor odison imagine #thor odinson #loki layfeyson imagine #loki layfeyson #thor and loki sister #avenger imagines #the avengers #avengers imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spider-man #imagine

[hermannsthumb]

possible prompt for a university au: newt is the biology major who maintains all the fish tanks in the physics building at 11pm and hermann is the physics student who likes to wander the halls to think. newt accidentally flings water all over the ground and hermann trips, hijinks ensue.

earlier today I was thinking about how I wrote a college AU fic almost 3 years ago to the date, and how I wanted to do more bc its fun thinking about newt and hermann as dumb college students

----

Newt's not really sure how he ended up with the weirdest work-study job on the planet, but honestly, things could be much, much worse (he could be stuck down in the dining hall, or dealing with confused freshmen in the school bookstore) so he keeps his thoughts on the whole thing to himself. Every Friday at eleven sharp, Newt pulls on his grodiest t-shirt and a pair of long rubber gloves and treks all the way over to the physics department to set to work scrubbing down the fish tanks that line the classroom walls. Why does the physics department have fish tanks? Newt's not really sure about that, either. It's kind of an insane amount of them, too, more than even the marine bio department has. Maybe it's supposed to boost morale or something. Hey, look at these crazy cool tropical fish who get to do nothing but eat and swim in circles, sorry you're stuck inside calculating velocity and shit.

Whatever, Newt's not complaining about that either. Let the physics nerds have their fun. It'll be good for them to branch out a little, realize there's life beyond robotics club meetings.

Also, Newt likes the fish. They're cute. He likes to think they like him, too, because they're very well behaved when he has to scoop them out of their tanks and plop them into smaller fish bowls (the kind goldfish in movies always use). He's going to teach them tricks eventually—he had a beta fish once who would do a little flip when Newt tapped the glass a certain way because he knew he'd get rewarded with dried worms, so Newt knows it's possible. Just imagine, a hundred fish doing flips on command. Newt Geiszler, fish whisperer.

Yeah, maybe the job could be more glamorous. It's really hard to get algae out of the gloves, and he hasn't been allotted the budget for a new pair yet.

"Hey, guys!" he shouts as he pushes in the door to room 214. The fish don't acknowledge him: they just continue swimming in their giant tank. In and out of plastic plants and rock caves. The rock caves were a gift from Newt three months into the job, and so were some of the moss balls—stimulation is important for fish! He wouldn't want to be trapped in a glass box with nothing to do, either. "I bet you missed me. Ready for a clean tank?"

Newt always talks to the fish, even if they don't talk back, because he thinks it's important to build their trust. He'll usually keep a running commentary of his week as he scrubs the tanks, just get everything off his chest that he needs to get off. Stuff he's worried about. Stuff that went well. Stuff that went badly. Therapy's expensive, and Newt's student health insurance can only cover so much, but talking to fish? That's free.

That's also kinda why he does it so late at night and over the weekend. The last thing he wants is an audience. Because, one, talking to fish is admittedly weird, and two, no one wants a glimpse at Newt's psyche like that, probably not even the fish.

The first step in cleaning the tanks is relocation. Newt digs his stereotypical goldfish bowls and an industrial-size mesh wand out of the supply closet, fills the former with some of the special tank salt water, and begins the slow and arduous task of scooping out the fish and depositing them into the bowls. "I had the lamest week," he announces once he's about three clownfish in. "I was working on a group project Saturday—"

Then Newt stops, because he hears footsteps in the hallway just outside the classroom.

Serial killer, Newt's instincts supply helpfully.

No, Newt corrects himself, that's dumb. Why would a serial killer wander into the physics building at eleven o'clock at night? Why would anyone, period? He's probably imagining stuff. Lack of sleep, stress over his upcoming projects, residual embarrassment from his disaster study session Saturday, all of it culminating in Newt thinking there's someone there. No, definitely imagining it. Newt can only even get in this late to the department because his ID swipe card is set up with the right permissions—not even the physics students have the permissions he does to be in this late at night. Well, not unless they clean the kitchenette in the student lounge or something.

Or if Newt left the door unlocked.

More footsteps. Closer now.

Newt's pretty sure he didn't leave the door unlocked, because he thinks it locks automatically behind him, and he would have to literally prop it open for anyone to get in after him. But anything's possible. The door could've caught on a dropped pencil or a paper scrap or other weird shit that physics students leave around, and a serial killer could've noticed and taken the opportunity to sneak inside on the off chance a hapless young biology major was scrubbing slime off fish tanks in the middle of the night. Any minute now, Newt's about to end up on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries. The Physics Department Murder. The Disappearing Biologist. (Nah, neither of those are very good titles, but that's why Newt isn't on the creative writing track.)

Step-tap-step. Closer now; Newt's heart leaps to his throat. Step-tap-step. Step-tap-step. Pausing just outside the door of room 214. God, why didn't Newt turn the lights off? Why didn't he shut the door?

Newt reaches for the first vaguely weapon-shaped thing he can find—an empty fishbowl, because Newt's not going to sacrifice any of the fish for this—and, as the door swings open, hurls it with a cry.

The bowl clunks on the ground. Except it turns out Newt grabbed the wrong fish bowl, because (even though it doesn't shatter, thank God) water quickly begins to seep across the slate floor tiles towards Newt's serial killer, a pathetic little clownfish (Newt thinks this one is named Albert, because the physics department is made up of nerds who do shit like name their random pet fish after their kind) flopping around in the puddle. Newt's serial killer, meanwhile, cries out similarly, his arms windmilling as he loses his footing and slips backwards, his cane—

Oh, fuck.

The intruder is not a serial killer. It's someone possibly worse, actually: Newt's mortal enemy, Hermann Gottlieb.

Newt's not really sure at what point Hermann became his mortal enemy and not just some guy I have class with that I hate, but he can pretty easily say that they've hated each other since the moment Hermann walked through the doors of Engineering 101 and was deigned Newt's lab partner by the Alphabetized By Last Name Seating Chart god. Something about Hermann just gets under Newt's skin. It's not his prissy English accent, or his oversized sweaters, or his absolutely horrendous haircut, and it's not even that he takes every opportunity to savagely rip apart every single thing Newt says in class. Don't get Newt wrong, that's all super fucking annoying, but it's annoying levels he can deal with.

It's the stuff they have in common that makes Newt hate him. It's like Hermann's a slightly broodier and more angular mirror that reflects all of Newt's most egregious faults—his arrogance, his stubbornness, his social awkwardness, his desperation to be taken seriously—right back at him. It sucks.

Plus, one time Newt caught Hermann ripping down the flyer he put up on the quad for Anime Club to advertise his stupid chess club instead, and he's never managed to forgive him for that.

Newt may hate Hermann, but he's not about to let him land on his ass in a puddle of fishy water (especially not on a freezing November night) just because the subsequent bitching would be unbearable, and, yeah, it would be supremely shitty of Newt, so he leaps forward just in time to catch Hermann and his cane before he hits the ground. He's so impressed with himself with his amazing catch that it takes him a few seconds to realize that Hermann is shouting and probably has been shouting since he slipped.

"—bloody maniac! What on earth are you doing in here? How are you in here? Did you just assault me? I'm going to phone campus police, you wretched—"

"Hold that thought," Newt says.

He rights Hermann and snags the mesh net and rescues poor Al before it's too late, dropping him back into the big tank with the rest of his friends. Newt can't be sure, but he thinks Al blows a bubble in thanks at him. Maybe he needs to make friends outside fish.

Hermann is still yelling at him.

"I am going to tell the head of the department you're—you're skulking about in here after hours!" he declares. "You're a menace. Pay attention to what I'm saying to you, Newton!"

Newt sighs and turns around. Hermann's turned an interesting shade of red—sort of like an over-boiled lobster, or if he fell asleep in the sun for too long. Newt wonders if it's from embarrassment (almost falling on his ass) or anger (almost being knocked on his ass). Probably anger. "Look, dude, I'm sorry," Newt says. His face twists like he ate a lemon, and he hopes Hermann doesn't notice. Newt hates apologizing to Hermann. "It's my job to clean the tanks every weekend. You scared the shit out of me and I freaked out—it's just that, like, no one ever comes by this late. Ever." He decides not to mention the serial killer thing. Hermann might make fun of him for being jumpy or paranoid or something.

Hermann's scowl doesn't lessen, but he does nod. Plus, he stops shouting. That's as much as Newt's gonna get of forgiveness. "Hmph," Hermann says. "You clean the tanks?"

"Every weekend," Newt repeats. He realizes he got some fish tank slime on Hermann's button-up when he caught him. Oops. Hopefully Hermann won't notice until Newt's in the safety of his dorm. "Gotta pay for my textbooks somehow." Then he frowns. "Wait, so what are you doing here? I didn't know you had access to the building this late."

Maybe Hermann is the kitchenette-cleaning guy after all. But, to his surprise, Hermann sniffs and casts his eyes to his dorky Oxford shoes. "Er," he says. "It's just—I was having trouble working out a solution to a problem, and thought a walk might do me good. Chilly nights like this one always do. And I quite like this building at night—it's calm, and much quieter than my dormitory." He fidgets. "And—well—only don't say anything to anyone, but I rewrote the permissions of my ID card so I could come and go wherever I please ages ago."

"You rewrote the permissions?" Newt says. "What the hell, wouldn't you have to hack into the security system or something to do that?"

"Well, obviously," Hermann says.

Despite himself, and despite Hermann being his Mortal Enemy, Newt is genuinely impressed. "Dude," he says. "That is so badass." Since when has Hermann been a badass?

Hermann's eyebrows jump, and he blinks at Newt behind his dorky librarian glasses. What twenty-one-year-old wears librarian glasses? With a chain? "You think so?" he says.

"Uh, totally," Newt says. "What problem were you stuck on? The one from Saturday?"

Being lab partners for engineering means Newt and Hermann have to collaborate on pretty much everything, including their midterms. Their midterm is what they've been working on for the past two weeks. On Saturday, though, they met in neutral ground to work on it (a reserved study room in the library), and, after a stupid and massive argument that had the librarians hoisting them out by their shirt collars and threatening to ban them for life, Hermann called Newt an idiot and stomped off into the night. Newt still hasn't gotten around to giving the problem another shot. Whatever, they have another week before the dumb thing is due. Plenty of time. Hermann nods. "Yes," he says. "Er—that one."

Newt glances at the clock ticking away on the wall. Quarter after eleven. Hermann's delayed him a whole fifteen minutes. Technically, he reminds himself, he doesn't actually have to have the tanks scrubbed by Friday night—he has the whole weekend to get it done. Also, he kind of feels like he owes Hermann for attacking him the way he did. Accidentally attacking. "Listen, Hermann," he says, feeling totally insane for what he's about to suggest. But he kind of wants to know more about Hermann The Badass. "What if we went back to my place and worked on it together? I'll buy us pizza, and I have, like, a bunch of energy drinks." The pizza place nearest campus is open until three in the morning, almost definitely because they get all of their business from sleep-deprived undergrads. Plus, they have midnight specials where you get free breadsticks with every pizza. Newt could go for some breadsticks. "It might be...fun," he adds.

Fun? With Hermann? Hermann will think he hit his head or something.

But to his surprise, Hermann doesn't hesitate even a second before saying "Alright, then."

"Oh," Newt says. He honestly thought Hermann would put up more of a struggle. "Cool!"

"But I might need to borrow a jumper," Hermann says. "If you'd be so...courteous, that is. I'm a bit chilly."

For some reason, the thought of Hermann (Newt's mortal enemy, but also a secret badass) curled up in one of Newt's baggy sweatshirts makes Newt feel all weird and warm all over. He swallows a few times, because his throat feels a little weird, too. Too tight. Like he just ate something he's allergic to. "No sweat," Newt says. "Let me just get these fish back in the, um, the tank. And—" He waves his slimy, gloved hands. "Take these off. And clean up that puddle. Gimme—um, gimme like, ten minutes?"

"Of course," Hermann says, and gives Newt a small, terse nod.

From Hermann, it's a smile. Newt almost slips on the puddle he's so blindsided by it. Stupid Hermann, making him feel all weird and clumsy.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

[trashytummiez]

what if Orca ate too much and Killer Croc rubs her belly?

Killer croc returned to his underground lair and rubbed his scaly stomach hungrily. It growled like an animal and left him grumbling for his own stomach to keep it down. But when he checked his fridge to his dread he saw the whole thing was picked clean.

"What the hell?!" Croc shouted.

He had a stocked fridge when he left how could it it be empty just like that?

Then he heard groaning from the other room and straight away got his answer.

There he found his girlfriend Orca sitting on the floor and caressing her massively stuffed tummy. Orca had eaten so much that her stomach looked like she was pregnant and expecting any second now. Her blubbery tummy was so huge that she had to sit on the floor with her back against the wall and her thighs spread out just to give it some room to breathe.

"Ey why'd ya eat everythin' in the fridge??" Killer Croc complained.

Orca groaned miserably. "Unnngh sorry Croc. Something got me feeling anxious again so I had to distract myself..."

"So ya settled on cleanin' me out?"

Orca hiccuped which made her huge belly jostle and slorsh. Not a good feeling right now. "...Unf couldn't help myself..."

The way her massive tummy groaned so loudly was enough to make even Killer Croc cringe almost as hard as Orca did. He'd certainly been there countless times in his life.

He decided to cut his girlfriend some slack so Croc sat down next to her and planted his rough scaly hands against her giant smooth tummy. Then in a surprisingly gentle way Killer croc began to rub Orca's massive tummy with a great deal of care. His hands delicately moved up the giant blubbery medicine ball of a tummy where his claws gently dug into the fat flesh.

Orca's eyes rolled to the back of her head and she moaned at the much needed tummy rub. For a monster so rigid Killer Croc knew how to be surprisingly tactile and docile with her.

"That feel good?" Croc asked.

Orca hummed through her chest and smiled pleasantly.

Killer Croc grinned and kept it up even when his own stomach rumbled.

Orca frowned guiltily when she heard Croc's scaly belly complaining. "Sorry I really should've left you something..."

"Ah it's cool. It's pretty late so I'll go back up t'the surface and find a mugger later."

Orca shrugged. At least Killer Croc would be getting a more filling meal that way. Then she continued to enjoy his soothing treatment over her tummy.

His scaly hand ran up and down the fatty side of Orca's massive stomach. He just kept rubbing it up and down occasionally rubbing upwards with his palm or gripping into Orca's blubber and kneading it to help it settle. Croc's hands traced over every bit of that giant whale belly and kneaded into it on top of rubbing away.

Orca sat there loving every second of it. Especially when Croc dug his claw into her very deep belly button. Croc kneaded into Orca's navel moving around circularly inside which got Orca moaning a little louder. Even when she was human her belly button was always extra delicate.

When Croc yanked his claw out of her belly button her whole chubby tummy wobbled around until Croc patted it heartily which caused it to slosh around and made Orca hiccup again.

"Man ya really know how to pack this stuff away don'tcha!" Croc admired.

"I stress-eat sometimes," Orca admitted with embarrassment. "I keep meaning to maintain better self control."

"Pssh self control's overrated," Killer Croc dismissed speaking from extensive gluttonous experience himself. "Besides ya look good with a belly on ya," Croc almost purred when he grabbed a hold of Orca's hefty blubbery tummy.

Orca blushed and scowled back in response. "Y-You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"Naw I'm serious," Croc insisted and looked down at that big plump tummy which he rubbed circles all over. "Ya look sexy as hell."

"...You're an idiot..." Orca said but the way her cheeks flared up hinted something else.

She didn't object when he continued stroking her tummy though. Her silky flesh felt so smooth to Croc even with his scales partially diluting everything he felt. Even he could feel the sleekness to it and how much softer it was when Orca was so unbelievably bloated. He couldn't help marvel at her girth as his hands roamed every bit of that hefty belly.

Killer Croc fondled her heavy underbelly gripping into her tummy and heaving her whole stomach up a little to just feel its weight in his arms. And the way he looked down at this massive tummy with this hungry look in his eyes was telling.

Maybe Killer Croc really did have a thing for tummies, especially Orca's tummy.

Orca also had to admit. Having her belly tended to by her big scaly boyfriend was doing something for her too.

It was enough to make her forget all about her troubles. At least until Killer Croc brought it back up.

"So what was buggin' ya anyway?" Croc asked while he rubbed.

Orca shifted a little. "You know me. I'm an anxious person."

"But ya usually ain't anxious fer nothin'."

"I don't know. I guess I was just thinking about the future. I've accepted this is who I am now but I don't know things like how it's going to affect my lifespan if I can have children or if it will affect my mind going forward."

"You've been this way fer years now though."

"Mutations do still occur and I never got a chance to read the fine print when they transformed me."

Killer Croc frowned. He'd changed a lot too when he grew up but for as much as he mutated he was still himself. "D'ya feel any different?"

"No?"

"Yer thoughts ever make ya think differently?"

"Well I didn't used to think humans tasted so good," Orca joked and rubbed her fat belly fondly patting it a few times too. "Besides my hunger and my new body though no. I guess not."

"I ain't smart bout nothin' but I know people well enough. I think the fact yer so nervous bout this sorta crap only means yer still you cuz ya always overthink crap. Comes with bein' a nerd right?"

"Scientists aren't nerds," Orca frowned.

Croc grinned teasingly. "C'mon ya could be playin' video games with me but instead yer always readin'? Yer the queen'uh nerds babe!"

"And you're an asshole."

Killer Croc laughed and nodded in agreement. Orca herself couldn't help laugh and shake her head. Croc wasn't the most sensitive of maneating monsters but he was surprisingly very good at listening and helping Orca get out of her own head sometimes. That was all she really needed sometimes and he never failed to give her that relief from her own anxieties.

"Thank you," she said sincerely.

Croc smiled back at her and leaned up to kiss her on the lips.

Or at least he tried to until her huge belly gurgled heavily enough to actually make it ripple slightly.

Orca cringed and turned her head with a fist pushed against her mouth. She stifled a deep burp in her mouth that Killer croc could hear rumbling in her cheeks. Then Orca gripped the dead center of her chunky belly and muffled an even bigger burp that made her cheeks balloon out somewhat.

She blew the gas out from the corner of her mouth and blushed.

"Unnnnf excuse me. That was gross," Orca pardoned herself.

"Pssh ya forget who yer datin'?" Killer Croc teased. "Don't hold 'em in if yer feelin' gassy babe. That ain't gonna feel too hot fer yer gut."

Killer Croc leaned his heavy scaly torso against Orca's giant belly. The added weight of his body alone was causing the pressure to build but then he squeezed Orca's tummy firmly and forced that pressure right up her throat. Before she could stop herself Orca a huge echoing burp that rumbled throughout the tunnels.

BBBRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHP!!!!!!!!!

Croc grinned. "There ya go babe! Get it all out!"

Killer croc gripped the center of Orca's belly and pushed his hands deeply into the middle of her heavy tummy. Before Orca could tell Croc off she burped so hard that the ground felt like it was shaking!

HHUUUUUUUURRRRRAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOURRRHP!!!!!!!!!

Croc laughed heartily. "Damn! Ya been holdin' out on me haven'tcha!"

Orca panted heavily and waved her hand to get Croc to pause for a moment. Her blubbery tummy rose and fell heavily with her stunted breath. Orca's face was pretty red. She was never shy about burping at all even back when she was still human. But these days she usually only did that either if she was alone or if the only other person around was in her stomach.

She couldn't help be a little embarrassed by how loud they were. But she had to admit it felt so much better getting the gas out.

Whatever the case Orca puffed out her cheeks and blew in a weary sort of way. "Ungh push here," Orca instructed Killer croc pointing right around her belly button again. She felt that part of her stomach bubbling and making it feel even more tense.

"Grand finale time huh?" Croc grinned. Then he pushed his thumbs into Orca's belly button and pressed both hands right into the middle of her chunky gut. They actually sank into the blubbery belly fat and caused her whole stomach to churn.

The Orca's mouth parted with an absolutely colossal burp that was louder than any she'd ever let out and rumbled out of her tummy so long that Croc stopped counting the seconds.

AAAAAAAAAHHRRAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUURRRRAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOORRRRRHHHHUUUUUURRP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Orca panted so heavily she started drooling. She slumped back in a daze feeling absolute relief while her belly spilled out freely and bubbled much more softly.

Killer croc slapped his thigh with laughter. "GAHAHAHA!!! Holy shit babe! You'n I definitely gotta have ourselves a contest later!" He said childishly patting her tummy and making her hiccup again.

The relief she felt was so astronomical that Orca didn't even blush. She just smacked her lips and said, "I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

And in an uncharacteristic display of cockiness Orca thumped her chest and burped one last time to prove her point.

#kink fic #orca #killer croc #waylon jones #grace balin #stuffing #belly rub #belly kink #burping #hiccups #belly button play #fat play #belly play #fluff #killer croc x orca #waylon jones x grace balin #canon ship #relationships #anxiety

[parismemes]

THINGS I’VE SAID ON DISCORD (OCTOBER EDITION) AS SENTENCE STARTERS.

“tell me everythng.” “HEHEHEHEHEHEHE” “i have read every single one of them and do not intend to stop” “i on principle only like songs that go hard” “I DIDNT THINK IT WAS GOING TO BE THAT SAD WHAT THE FUCK” “heehoo. water boy.” “why i always sleep through this shit i hate it here” “gacha games count as gambling” “im also there. im laughing” “u r doing so much math and im just like hehe money” “what the fuck what the fuck NOOO what the fuck im dfgjhhfjgdhjfgkjdkghjd” “what a traumatic backstory” “I CAN SEE YOU READING MY MESSAGES IM GONAN GET FINESSED OUT THE FUCKIN WINDOW“ “THAT’S not good!” “if hes a fraid of dogs that sounds like a him problem” “i honestly deserve recognition for the absolute shit i just pulled off” “YES FUCK YEAH YEAH YEAH HELL YEAH FUCK YEAH HELL FUCKIN YEAH WOOOOOOOOO YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!” “why the fuck would you want that” “yeah hes my only one true love” “by a few i of course mean like 600″ “no one fucking appreciate me” “thank you ___ for being the only person who appreciate me” “i reveal it in pieces and make you put it together like a puzzle” “im smart and never regret it“ “see, i just dont think thats right” “i will continue dangling it in front of your face like a scientist dangling bait in front of a fish (who is also in a maze)” “hes actually like an absolute fucking nerd a complete fool a fucking dumbass” “sorry your message glitched and i cannot read. anyway back to my leverage over you which is forcing you into a corner,” “it's not extortion because i don't know what extortion means” “why do they talk like exes. its because they are exes” “TIME SENSITIVE QUESTION PLEASE RESPOND” “he's a content creator he'll be fine” “what does this mean? but yes” “NICE NICE NNICE NICE NICE NICE NICE NICE NICE NICE NICE” “for future record ___ just used the word poggers” “look at all these fuckin blondes” “its only been like a week and a half at most” “hes doing it out of affection” “ISNT THIS THE FUNNIEST SHIT YOUVE EVER SEEN” “you are terrible and also the worst” “i was going to send it at midnight but i got distracted trying to figure out the most barebones way to say happy birthday without sounding weird” “do you think i get punished more or less if i do sins” “i dont think the sins count as extra points if you commit them on the way to hell” “run over pedestrians” “i am slowly descending into insanity today, as a hobby” “you are a shit boy. a little shit boy go eat boxes“ “it's ok. we can figure it out later” “i didnt notice at first but it is in fact All The Fuck Over” “ITS BEEN OVER 12 HOURS” “hey guys just turns out we might have a ✨ gas leak ✨” “im sure if we put our braincells together we can figure SOMETHING out” “curious georg” “thank god. i could and would have argued this for several hours” “i think the worst thing ive heard today is someone calling the movie enchanted a reverse isekai” “i should not and will not stop” “i was RIGHT AHHAHAHAHAHAGAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA” “that wasnt a question you read it wrong” “i have no idea who this is but that wont stop me” “THIS MAN REALLY SAID HEAD EMPTY WHAT IS MONEY” “sometimes i say things and its best to just pretend you know what i mean” “WOT THIS” “I DONT WANT PEE ON MY BED“ “tired of all these stupid fuckin plants” “could you even really consider jelly filled donuts donuts?” “actually everything is real” “if you eat cereal for dinner, you're not having fucking breakfast” “i think my in real life superpower is that i have freakishly fast metabolism” “i dont care if you are evil you are MY TYPE” “you dirty criminal” “is a dessert item a dessert if it isn't eaten after dinner? discuss” “ok im done for the Right Now” “found a concerning orb. in the sky.” “HOW DID YOU KILL THEM” “why do i do this to myself why do i keep doing this” “the only simp here is me” “I No Longer Wish To Know!“ “DID THEY JUST END AN ENTIRE SPECIES” “WE ARE DETERMINED” ��this is also really funny by virtue of the fact that these people are all fucking british” “they throw rocks at me and say we want the himbo” “THE CONTEXT IS IMPORTANT HERE” “its something that i SPECIFICALLY am passionate about” “hanburnger?” “thats just what living with siblings is like” “howd she get there? fuckin beats me dude idk” “i remember everything i am like a shark with an abnormally good memory” “i am sorry that you are predictable” “Hey Guys, Just Checkiing In To Make Sure You Got My Joke, Just Making Sure, I Just Wanted To Check In And See If You Got The Joke, Because I Was Afraid You Wouldnt Get It, So Im Just Checking In,” “i marked your worm” “what are you gonna do. unsend whatever you send me? i am Shaking in my fuzzy socks rn” “you Know i hate the idea of being wrong” “You Did Not Need To Stroke His Ego” “i am too stupid to live and if i was not vaccinated my genes would have no chance of being passed on because i would be dead” “~the oldest anarchy server in minecraft history~” “am i shaking because of adrenaline or rage.... who can tell” “I HAVE SO MUCH ADRENALINE IN ME BUT ITS 1 AM IN THE MORNING” “jokes on u i fucking HATE ___ i think hes the worst” “JUST IMPULSE MADE BROWNIES AT 9 PM HEYOOOO” “cry about it more bitch boy maybe piss your pants while ur at it” “im getting so casually toxic back to toxic gamer boys” “itll be fiiiiiine” “we are all stupid mice who take turns being the piper” “queen of bargains is me i am the queen of bargaining and scoring deals” “its not TECHNICALLY a direct threat but also yes it is” “i see a demon i go possess me then bitch boy u wont” “AAAA THE FUCKIN VIIIIBES” “IM NOT GOING TO STOP BEING MAD ABOUT IT”

#sentence starters #rp memes #ask memes #rp meme #ask meme #the first one i did of this did really well....

[dancingthesambaa]

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 4

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black-furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter 4: Ramen Noodles for the Soul

There was a battle commencing as two shadows faced off against each other, one being a ghastly figure that had the body of a tiger, but nine human heads with elongated necks and the other was a petite woman and all she had with her was a fan. The dark area surrounding them was riddled with buildings ripped apart and the still bodies of people then the beast lunged at her with a silent roar.

“The Kaiming Shou ran first as they viciously tried to strike the Geisha down,” the voice said as the creature was about to tackle her down, “but she was too quick for him,” the woman elegantly dodged as she leaped into the air.

“The woman was through with the beast wanton destruction so with her aim true she cut off the first head,” the woman fan opened and it had cut off one of the creature heads. “And then the second,” the next head soon plopped to the floor as she continued that action until she was left with only a headless body, “until finally none remained and with a flick of her fan,” The Geisha’s eyes seemed to narrow minutely as she gently waved her fan to the beast and it erupted in a gulf of blackened flames. “they had burned into the nothingness.”

The scene then transformed into one of peace, the bodies and destruction vanished and in its place, a field of flowers had grown next to a rustling town.

“No one knows exactly where the Geisha had gone nor who she was, but that had no purpose in the townspeople's eyes as they were grateful for saving them in their time of need,” the voice continued as the villagers all bowed to the field of flowers. “So they tell this story, not in hopes of finding who she was, but rather to tell all that if you ever happen to meet the valiant woman that saved them from ruins, to kindly welcome her with open arms.” The scene faded to black and a few seconds later a round of applause erupted with cheers quickly pursuing.

The voice took off his hood and gave a mock bow to the audience as made his way off the stage to let the next person go.

“Mac, why are you such a hard act to follow,” one of the performers sighed as he walked towards the stage, “you know everything after yours is gonna be less than mediocre.”

“Then get good,” he smirked.

“Maybe you're just too good,” he playfully punched the monkey's shoulder as he went to the stage to set up.

“That was awesome!” A young boy bolted from his seat as he collided into Macaque, “super cool!”

“Thanks kiddo,” he said as he lifted him off the ground and tucked him under his arm, “now let’s find your sister before she rips off your head.”

“Pfft, Yan Yan won’t be too-,”

“BAO!” A voice sternly called out and he could feel the boy shrink.

“Shit,” he muttered as he soon saw his sister followed by his brothers and sisters and a certain Jellyfish demon, “double shit.”

“Thank you for finding him Mackey, your plays are marvelous as always,” the bluenette woman gave a quick smile to her former teacher and her eyes pivoted on her idiot brother as it tightened, “as for you.”

“I love you very much,” Bao said with puppy dog eyes and a pout as soon as he was let down.

“Really,” Bohai deadpanned as one of the children began to play with his tendrils.

“Cute, but that stopped working a long time ago,” she instead began to lecture him on the dangers of leaving without telling anyone as they all left, some even complimenting him on his play as they walked by.

“Yan is really protective when it comes to them,” Mei hummed out as she dragged MK by the sleeve of his purple jacket, who was morning.

“You should see when they go out in the street, that’s a right nightmare,” he said as he tied his fluffy mane of fur back up in a ponytail. “Swear the only reason she is friends with Bohai is that he can help wrangle all those kids.”

“Soooo, I didn’t know you were such a theater nerd,” she mischievously grinned. She was excited to find out that the tough, grumpy monkey actually had a love for the theatrics and voluntarily went out from time to time to play at the theater. She teased him endlessly for this the second she found out about it.

“Dad likes his dramatics,” MK unhelpfully replied as he crossed his arms.

“What’s got you so moody,” the father asked and all he got was a groan in response.

“Someone dropped all of his snacks and he won’t stop whining about it,” she teased him.

“My caramel popcorn was in there!” He dramatically cried out and fell to his knees. “All that delicious goodness! Gone!”

“How about ol doc over here can take us to this amazing noodle shop I know,” Mei patted his shoulder.

“Really?” He looked up at her with hope.

“I am?” Mac quirked one of his eyebrows.

“Yes, because you don’t want two poor children to go hungry,” the fourteen year old put her hands on her head in a faint.

“I am soo hungry,” MK flopped on the ground to emphasize both of their points.

“I guess if I have to,” he begrudgingly agreed in a mocking tone as the two teenagers cheered.

“I’m telling you, this place's noodles are simply to die for,” Mei said as they approached a restaurant called Pigsy Noodles.

“I’ll take your word for it,” the monkey demon shrugged as Mei opened the doors wide open and they heard a friendly voice greet them.

“Welcome to Pigsy Noodles!” They saw a short pig in an apron turn around to face the group, “How can I help-,” he paused for a moment as he stared not at the kids, but rather at the monkey that was accompanying them. He didn’t know why, he never met the chimp before, but something felt a bit...off about that simian.

He wasn’t the only one as Macaque felt almost a tinge of tension, now he met all types of Pig demons, but he has never felt one so similar to Zhu Baije before.

It was a tense stand-off before Mei butted in, “We are here for your finest noodles! I promised MK here that yours is simply the best!”

This snapped the pig out in an instant as he smiled at the two, “well of course it is, come and sit. I’ll have the menu out in a jiffy,” he gave a nod and turned to grab the items.

The three sat down and the monkey gave a quick once over on Pigsy, both physically and spiritually, and relaxed once he realized that, no this was not the original Zhu Baije, it was just someone that had an eerie likeness to him. But he still kept a careful eye out to him and he knew that Pigsy was doing the same as he kept glancing over to him from time to time as he prepared another customer's food.

“Mmmm, this is good!” MK said as he slurped some of the noodles.

“What’d I tell you,” Mei said with her mouth full of Yao mein.

Macaque mentally agreed as he sat in between the both of them and silently ate his food.

“Many thanks from such esteemed customers,” the pig demon jokingly said.

“It’s quite good,” another voice added, though this time Pigsy's smile quickly turned to irritation at that voice.

“It's better to be the best damn thing you have eaten with the number of times you don’t pay freeloader,” he said.

“Ah, but isn’t the knowledge of my experience of my worldly knowledge of the unknowns, myths, and truth that surround our world. Whether it comes from the depths below to the heavens high in the sky, truly that is the greatest substance of all ” the man mysteriously says as his glasses almost glinted.

“Is it money,” Pigsy deadpanned.

“No,” the aura of mystery that surrounded him suddenly dissipated as he sheepishly grins.

“Then I don’t care!”

“What kind of unknown?” MK perked up as he turned to look at the stranger. “Is it cool? Are they adventures?”

“How about fights? Are there lots of action packed ones filled with danger and mysteries?!” Mei joined in as she got interested as well.

“All of that and more,” the stranger hopped into the chance to tell some of the stories that he had uncovered. “You have all heard the tale of the Legendary Monkey King, correct?”

“Yeah!” They both excitedly cheered but paused as they glanced back to Macaque who was still eating.

“As long as you don't up and leave the restaurant, you can listen,” he waved them off very much knowing why they looked to him in the first place. “Get me another bowl please,” Mac said to Pigsy as he handed him some money.

The pig just nodded as he turned his back to start up another bowl.

The two smiled at him and rushed off to hear the stories on the other end of the counter and that left both Pigsy and Macaque alone together, who both silently decided that it would be best to passively listen to the story than talk to each other.

“-and legends say, that only one with vast knowledge and strength are the only ones they can create the mystical pills of immortality,” Tang mysteriously said as the mythical book was laid out between them.

“So only people with amazing powers can do that!” MK’s eyes widened. “So cool!”

“Or they can just steal it, like the Monkey King,” Mei grinned.

“Or that too,” Tang nodded to her, “but even that was a feat in itself that he had managed to successfully procure such valuable items in that time frame.”

“Man it must be tough to find them all,” MK said.

“It is, some are deep under the seas where only the legendary dragons dwell, another is high up on the mountain tops where you have to pluck it just right or else you have to wait for eons before trying but want to know a secret,” Tang leaned in.

“Yeah,” they whispered and followed suit.

“There is said to be a plant in the Plum Blossom forest that is an ingredient to make the Pills, but no one has yet to find it,” the man happily stated as he began to talk, not knowing of the two nervous glances as they forced themselves not to turn around to a certain monkey.

Macaque only grinned into his cup once he heard that, but Pigsy scoffed.

“Sounds like a bunch of nonsense to me,” he said as he wiped down the counters.

“Well every myth has a fraction of the truth,” he rebutted, “so I’m not giving up my exploration yet.”

“You visit the forest?” Mei curiously asked.

“I try to go as much as I can, but not just for the plants, there is rumored to be all types of different mythical creatures and spirits that wander in the forest,” Tang excitedly said.

“Oh really,” MK forced out with a pained grin, Mei was the same as she had seen some of them when she slept over one day. “That sounds really cool.”

“So,” the pigtailed girl tried to redirect the conversation, “I want to hear more about the Monkey King or any other gods, please.”

“Well I do have one in mind,” the man's eyes lit up as he flipped through the pages.

The two kids have a sigh of relief.

“The Six Eared Macaque is an interesting one.”

And immediately they both tensed back up.

“He is a demon that has caused mass confusion throughout history as no historian can agree which version is correct,” he landed on a page with a shadowed monkey with glowing violet eyes that seemed to bore into them.

“Oh, well-,” MK was cut off by Tang as he went on.

“Is he this one-note villain that simply stood in the Monkey King way or is he more of the mischievous trickster that helped wandering souls against vengeful beings and healed those when they asked. Is he both? If so, was he the healer before or after the Journey? If before then why did he decide to attack the Monkey King? If after, how did he survive that last attack? There are just too many questions that surround the origin of the Six-Eared Macaque, it’s truly quite fitting due to his nature.”

“It really is,” Mei gritted her teeth and slowly turned to face said Monkey demon, “hey Ma-I mean fluffy, I think it’s time we head home, right MK.”

“Yes we do,” he robotically said as the two made their way back to him.

“Oh is it getting late?” Tang blinked, “I didn’t even realize it.”

“It’s all good,” Macaque smirked as he ruffled the two heads, “nice stories.”

“History you mean,” he gave a wide smile, “besides, they were very good listeners…sorry I didn't catch your name?”

“Macaque,” he happily ignored the kid's panicked stares at him.

The man looked at him for a solid minute before laughing, “like the Six Eared Macaque! What a strange coincidence.”

“It sure is,” he smirked.

“Your parents must have loved the myths then,” he wiped a tear.

He shrugged, “it came along the way.”

Tang was a bit confused by that, but before he could ask the monkey he put a hand on both of the teenager’s shoulders and they seemed to vanish the next moment.

“…alright I’m not even gonna question how,” Pigsy grumbled as he continued cleaning.

“He vanished like a thief in the night,” Tang said in amusement.

“At least this thief paid for his food,” the pig grumbled then he noticed that there was some money with a note. Pigsy took a glance at the message and he gave a slight grin, “congratulations Tang, I won’t be on your ass today about your meal.”

“Huh, but you never let go of a chance to put it over my head?” The historian questioned as he walked over.

“Well you can thank their dad,” the pig demon showed him the note and he read it.

Thanks for keeping them entertained, food is on me.

“Well that is nice of him,” he smiled, “I hope they come back sometimes.”

“Hmph, any paying customers are more than welcome,” the pig said as he continued his cleaning, while the historian was more than happy as he continued to eat.

It was the middle of the day and both kids had their designated classes, whether online or home tutoring, and he was currently plucking out some of the weeds from a batch of Morning Glories when he saw the flowers bloom. “Back again already crackpot,” he called out as he took out one of the longer weeds he was plucking out of his mouth.

A croaky voice with a laugh, “what can I say, I can’t stay away from your glowing personality.”

He rolled his eyes as he stood up and turned to meet a balding old man with frizzy red hair and no shoes on his feet, “fuck off.”

The old man gave him a toothy grin as he flopped to the ground, poured a cup of wine, and held it out to the monkey.

“A bit too early for a drink there Shen,” he mused as he took the cup from his hand and sat next to him.

“It’s late somewhere else,” he chuckled and leaned back against one of the Plum trees.

“Yeah yeah,” he waved him off and took a sip of the drink, “don’t you get tired of drinking the same shit every time?”

“Yep,” Shen said.

“And you're still not gonna switch it out any time soon?”

“Nope,” he grinned and took a swing.

“You know one day you’re gonna tell me what the hell this is,” he grumbled in his drink.

“Not on my life.”

“Thought so.”

“Hey Dad,” MK called out as he entered the infirmary, “do you know where-,” he paused as he saw that he wasn’t alone.

“Didn’t expect you to have a hatchling,” the large alligator demon said, or what he assumed was an alligator as he looked almost similar to a ghost but in blue.

“Not most do,” Mac said as he picked out a violet plant and started to look it up in a book.

“Uhhhh,” his mind was running a mile a minute trying to come up with what was happening. “Sorry?”

He waved him off, “just be glad it wasn’t surgery.”

“So what is going on?” He asked as he slowly closed the door behind him.

“Just whipping up an antidote for him,” he hummed out.

“I didn’t know ghosts needed medicine.”

“Not a ghost,” the alligator muttered.

“Huh?”

“What he means is that he’s in his corporeal form,” Mac further explained as he began to dice up the plant. “Had to with the amount of poison in his system, so I just placed him in the lamp as usual.”

“Poison!? Lamp?!” He said in alarm.

“…oh I guess you have never seen it before, hold on.” Mac finished placing the last ingredient inside, stirred it, and let it simmer. He turned to the alligator, “want to rest or free roam?”

“Rest,” he said.

The monkey complied as he used his tail to grab a lantern and in the next moment, the transparent demon was gone.

“What is that?” MK went forward to get a better look.

“This is the Shadow Lamp, it allows me to store people's bodies in there, which puts said bodies in a stasis thus allowing me plenty of time to make the medicine needed.”

“Oh, so it’s like a fancy tool to help patients! Why don’t all doctors have this?”

“Cause originally this was not a medical tool,” he explained as he carefully set the lamp down.

“A weapon? How?” He tilted his head, he didn’t see how a lamp can cause harm.

“It was used to suck the bodies in the lamp, but be able to control their shadow against their own will,” he inwardly chuckled at MK's shocked face.

“What?! That can happen?!”

“Yep.”

“But wait?” He backtracked as he looked at the lamp, “if it’s so dangerous why are you using it?”

“At the end of the day, a weapon is just a tool,” he quietly said, “it doesn’t have any emotions, no attachments, no moral conceptions, it’s just a tool that anyone can use. It’s the one who uses the weapon that determines how the tool can be used.”

“Really?”

Macaque paused as he looked into MK bright eyes, he gave a small smile.

“Really.”

He put away his supplies and safety materials before ruffling MK’s long hair. “Now how about you tell me what you were originally here for nightlight.”

“Oh right! Do you know where the spare water bottles are? The others have holes punctured in them.”

“Damnit Minsheng,” Mac pinched his nose, “they should be in the bottom cabinet by the fridge.”

“Thanks!” He said as he left the infirmary, “Want me to bring you anything?”

“No, I’ll be a bit busy,” he muttered as he took out his phone, “I have a few arrangements to make, specifically with some glue, rope, and a whole lot of glitter.

“Hey Pigsy!” MK hollered out as he walked into the shop, “the usual please!”

“Coming right up,” the pig grinned as he was already preparing his order.

The fifteen year old grinned as he sprawled over the counter, “Tang not here today?”

“Surprisingly no, he’s probably off at the library or some antique store,” the pig demon then noticed that he was alone, “surprised I don’t see Macaque or Mei here.”

“Well Mei wanted to pick out her future bike, so she dragged Dad over to the auto shop.”

“Auto Shop? For a bike?”

“Motorcycle,” he explained.

“Ah,” he nodded and placed his food in front of him, “bon appetit.”

“Thank you!” He cheerfully replied as he dug into his food.

Pigsy just grins at the boy as he was about to go back to cleaning up since MK was the only one in, but he paused as a probing thought couldn’t leave his mind. He knows it wasn’t any of his business and he hasn’t seen anything damaging nor even concerning, but his damn gut has been bothering him ever since he laid eyes on him. “So kid.”

“Hm?” MK looked up as some noodles were hanging from his mouth.

“I'm a bit curious about your old man, he isn’t the chattiest bunch and I’m a bit curious at what he does,” he casually asks.

“He’s a doctor!”

“Really?” Now that was a surprise, he was betting on being some sort of martial arts teacher.

“Really! He’s super smart and a bunch of people and demons go to him, he’s even had a student before.”

“Huh, doesn’t seem like the type to take on a student.”

“No, but she was really persistent,” he grinned at the understatement.

“I bet.”

“Though he is a bigggg worrywart,” he leaned back from his chair.

“He is?”

“Oh yeah, like there was this one time when I was ten that I scraped my finger against a really thorny plant and when I yelled out, he instantly picked me up and started to treat my entire arm as he tried to find out if the plant was poisonous while asking me if I had a fever, nausea or any other symptoms and during that entire time I was not let down,” he deadpanned.

He snorted at the image, “that certainly is unexpected.”

“He also sometimes performs shadow plays at the theater.”

“Flair for the dramatics,” he quirked his eyebrow.

“Like you wouldn’t believe it,” he nodded.

Pigsy chuckled, “makes me wonder how he met your mother then.” Though he stopped as he saw MK fell silent and his face flushed. “…did I say something wrong?”

His head shot up and he shook his hands, “No! Nothing! You said nothing wrong! Well-actually a bit, but not anything mean! It’s just that-well he…adopted me.” He couldn’t help the grin that formed on his face.

“Oh-shit, I’m sorry that was really callous of me,” he winced, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“My loss?” His grin faded at the unusual statement.

“Your parents,” he clarified.

“Oh,” face completely slack and blank, “they're not dead.”

Pigsy’s eyes blinked, “Oh,” then he came to the realization of just what he meant and his voice and face dropped, “oh.”

MK gave a sad little smile, “Yeah, he actually found me in a back alley when it was about to rain and he adopted me from that point on. He may not be blood related to me, but he’s still my dad.”

The pig smiles and begins to heat some noodles, “and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Now, you want some more? This one is on the house.”

“Yes please!” He perked up.

Pigsy couldn’t help but give a wide smile at the child's affectionate nature, it was contagious.

‘Glad for my gut to be wrong for once,’ he mentally thought as he poured the soup in, ‘he just looks like the usual jackasses you see in the underbelly, but he’s just a protective bastard for his kid…kids, half sure that he practically adopted girlie.’ He should ask the monkey next time he comes in, it would be hilarious to see his reaction…damnit Tang has infected him.

Macaque was standing in front of the two teenagers in one of the forest's many clearings, “So after much deliberation, I decided to finally teach you how to actually fight.”

“I told you we would wear him down eventually,” Mei nudged MK, but they were both caught off guard when their feet were swept under them and they fell on their butts.

“First lesson, don’t let your guard down,” he said as his tail gently swished behind him, “that is the height of stupidity that will get you killed.”

“Noted,” they both groaned.

“Now,” he waited for a bit for them to get on their feet, “I can’t promise you that I am an expert on martial arts, most of my moves are just street fighting, but I can promise you that by the time I’m done with you guys, you will actually have a chance to put up a fight.”

MK and Mei listen intently.

“Mei,” she perks up, “I know your family has some sort of dragon ancestor right?”

“Oh yeah! The Great Dragon of the West Sea,” she proudly stated.

Macaque could only blink at the irony as he quickly realized just who her ancestor, or rather the son of the said ancestor, was, “Nope, not going to open that can of worms,” he muttered. “But yes that, and I believe that you have already looked through some of the martial arts teachings that was formed by him?”

“Yeahhh, but I’m having real trouble with actually learning some of the moves,” she nervously chuckled.

“That’s cause it shares the same qualities as Tai Chi, though with much serpentine movement, I have fought quite a few with that kind of style and usually two things stand out to me, they are quick and accurate.”

“Like a snake,” she nodded.

“Like a snake,” he agreed, “I can definitely teach a few off of the top of my head, but it would probably be best if I see a few of your scrolls at a later point so I can demonstrate.”

“Hell yeah!” She pumped her fist in the air.

“Alright, MK,” his head perked up at the call of his name, “you have zero knowledge of any type of fighting.”

He deflated at that.

“Which makes it easier to incorporate my style onto you.”

He instantly inflated back up.

“If there is one thing I have learned in all my years of fighting is-,” he vanished from view and both kids scrambled forward to escape being surprised from behind, only to be startled when they found their heads being gently pushed down from above and they were once again sprawled out.

“Be unpredictable,” he cheekily stated as he landed back down.

“Why do I get the feeling that we’re going to be falling down a lot,” MK said as he lifted his face off the grass.

“I have a feeling you're right,” Mei muttered as she laid flat on her back.

“Like I said, welcome to your first class my unruly disciples,” he gave the most shit eating grin, “you have a lot to learn.”

#monkie kid #mk #macaque #PlumTeaAU

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Yard update one: The Yardening

The kiddo is returning on Monday but I’m squeezing in some yard work this week. Here’s how it’s gone so far, for anyone interested.

And yes we’re already planning to get a cover for the sandpit, because of the cats. That’s something his mother can pay for though.

In the meantime I’ve weeded it and reseated the uneven bricks. This involved a lot more sand shovelling than I anticipated.

Declared war on the ivy and rescued the palets. The lower ones have collapsed completely and chosen to become one with the earth and I have respected their decision. The others seem usable though.

I think I might take the bricks out of here and plant some kind of non-building-murdering ground cover. Something chickens won’t destroy because this is right next to their enclosure and very much within their free range area.

My rescued babies. With some minor repairs I think they’re in good enough nick for a herb wall or something.

Started weeding this thing and gave up because I don’t like the rocks. When I eventually get round to it I might replace this with a little garden bed. The little man insists on walking on this thing barefoot so I giving him  soft surface is probably best anyway. I don’t need to decide yet; it’s autumn.

Also finding a LOT of snails in this place. That’s another point in the ‘get chickens’ column.

Went through and removed everything thorny or poisonous or otherwise toddler-annihilating that I could find in our little forest. Found six billion more tons of FUCKING IVY back here but I have made the executive decision not to care about it. The southeast corner can be the Official Ivy Sanctuary until I have the time, energy and willpower to deal with it.

Have the urge to put potatoes here, for some reason. Probably won’t -- it’s shady and the toddler-proofed vegetation here is doing fine without my interference. The soil in this place needs a lot of work so it makes sense to start soil improving and planting in the actual good spots and leave stuff like this as it is.

Definitely going to make use of all this leaf litter, though.

Next job is probably cleaning up this thing. I’ll have to evict the entire spider population of South Australia from the roof first, which sounds fun.

There’s a whole bunch of ivy and spiky weeds and shit in the cramped space between the cage and the fence, too, which I need to clear out before the cage can be repaired.

This little compost bin that a friend gave us is already full, and about twice its volume is sitting behind it. I’ve barely started cleaning this place up -- I’m going to have to build a properly sized compost bin. At least in 12 months we’ll have some great compost.

This is all just ivy and weeds and shit right now, I have to mix in a bunch of leaf litter and the bad apples and lemons.

This is our front garden by the way. I have no plans for it right now, other than weeding.

This single goldfish has been living in this unaerated and unfiltered pond for so long that neither the previous owners nor the owners before them know who put him in here. Apparently the plants in the pond are giving him enough food, oxygen, and cover from the many neighourhood cats who like to drink here. The previous owners say they went on holidays for a while and the weather was unexpectedly hot, and when they got back the pond was almost completely dry, but he was hibernating in the mud at the bottom and when they filled it he got right back up. He’s well coloured, has no obvious injuries or rashes that I can see, swims well and spends enough time deep in the pond that I’m convinced he has sufficient oxygen. I’m starting to think he’s one of those mythical immortal Chinese fish that grants wishes.

I want to get him some proper fish accommodation, or at least clean the water, but I’m a bit scared that the shock of change might do what nature clearly cannot, and kill him.

We also have this bar. I have nothing to say about it, except that we’re a bunch of unsocial nerds with absolutely no use for it. Those red windows open out so that drinks can be served to the large volume of guests outside during the raucous parties that we never have. I might put a kettle down here so I don’t have to go upstairs to make tea when I’m watching the kiddo in the backyard. Open to ideas for this. Or the garden. Or anything. I’ve got a lot of space here and six full months before spring.

#the yardening #derin's yard

[rainboq]

27 pricerich?

Well this took ages, so here, have a big prompt fill.

The bridge rattles, its wooden frame protesting as the train rolls across it. Her hands and butt are numb from the vibrations as she sits on top of the truss, her feet dangling over the box cars.

The urge to jump down onto the car tugs at her, to ride this train wherever the hell it’s going and see what comes of it.

But she has someone to meet.

A date, sort of. With someone she probably should have dated like half a decade ago.

Fuck, I’d kill for a smoke.

Leaning back, she splays her numb hands out over the lumber of the truss, staring up at the clear sky. Overhead some kind of bird circles, drafting on thermals. She’s not sure if it’s some kind of hawk or something, but she wishes she could be up there with it.

The final axles for the train clatter over the bridge and Chloe sighs as she starts scooting along back to the way she got up here.

“Well, if it isn’t the friendly neighbourhood spider punk.”

Chloe’s heart skips a beat and her head jerks around to find the owner of the familiar voice standing at the end of the bridge, her arms crossed and a knowing smirk on her face.

“Uh, hey Steph!” Chloe scrambles to get her composure together as she waves down to her.

“Hey,” Steph’s smirk widens into a grin as she plants a foot on the post, “What’re you doing up there?”

“Oh, just waiting on a hot date to show up,” Chloe replies, trying to salvage at least a little bit of her cool factor.

A husky laugh comes from Steph as she starts climbing up the angled beam, a shiver running down Chloe’s spine. “That makes two of us.”

Scooting over, Chloe reaches down to grab Steph’s hand and helps haul her the rest of the way up onto the top of the bridge, “Oh yeah? I bet my date’s hotter.”

“Hotter than a punk chick who’s rocking out all over the country and is one of the smartest people I know? I doubt it.”

Her façade of cool threatens to crumble under the weight of the surge of butterflies that have spontaneously appeared in her chest. Jesus fuck Price, get ahold of yourself, you’re in your twenties, you’re not some idiot teenager anymore, stop being such a disaster. “I dunno, sounds like she’s gonna have some pretty stiff competition from the hottest queen of the nerds and dungeon mistress around.”

“Mistress?” Steph teases, wiggling her eyebrows as Chloe shuffles over to give her space to sit down. “Damn Chloe, I didn’t think you were into that.”

Heat flashes in her cheeks and she gently whacks Steph’s shoulder. “Wha- hey! You know that’s not what I meant!”

Wiggling her eyebrows, Steph leans in close to whisper conspiratorially, which only makes the whole blushing thing fucking worse. “I dunno, I heard some stories from a very reliable source.”

“Oh my god, fuck off.” Chloe groans rubbing her hands over her face to hide just how red her cheeks are.

More of that delicious laughter bubbles out from Steph, “It’s seriously good to see you again, how long has it been?”

“Too fucking long,” she mumbles, rubbing her face to try and get the blood out of there again.

“I legit had a freakout when I saw your face pop up. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming down?”

Chloe shrugs, trying to salvage at least a little dignity, “I just wanted to surprise you, I didn’t expect to see your face pop up either. I figured you’d be totally hitched to some awesome lady by now.”

“So, what, you were going to just show up and maybe find some other girl while you were down here? Or were you holding out hope that I might still be available?”

“I plead the fifth.”

Steph laughs again and Chloe tries to keep from blushing only to fail miserably. God fucking dammit, I’m too gay for my own good. “Hey, at least you weren’t a straight couple looking for a third. That’s like all I get anymore.”

“Ugh, I hate unicorn hunters, they make every dating app a fucking minefield.”

“Preaching to the choir. At least I know you’re not a front for some scummy dude with ego issues.”

A sigh escapes Chloe’s lips as she squeezes her eyes shut to blot out the memories. “I’ve had enough of that for one lifetime.”

“You and me both.”

Chloe drums her fingers on the heavy wooden beam, her feet kicking around in the air as the sounds of nature flow into the silence. They sit there for a few moments, listening to the song birds warbling and the river below burbling.

Shit, this was supposed to be a date, right? Or was that just Steph joking around? Because if this is a date I’m totally blowing it right now, right? Fuck, I dunno, since when have I ever actually been on a real fucking date anyways?

It’s Steph who breaks the silence, “Maybe we should have brought some fishing gear and caught some dinner.”

“Oh sure, let me just check the garage for my pole,” Chloe starts, unable to keep from grinning. “Oh, no, not here, guess I must’ve left it in the attic… Damn, no luck, fucking Mike must’ve borrowed it and forgot to tell me.”

Steph’s delighted cackling sends a warm thrill down Chloe’s spine. Shit, her laugh is still hot. “So what brings you down to my neck of the woods anyways? Still on Chloe’s Excellent Adventure to figure things out?”

“Basically. Maybe I’m an asshole for doing it in the first place, but I hella needed to.” Chloe shrugs, shuffling over some more so she can lift her feet and rest them on one of the diagonal struts.

Steph shuffles along the bridge, sticking close to her. “I remember what you texted me when you made that call. Um, how is she doing anyways, do you two still talk?”

“Oh yeah, of course we talk,” Chloe’s hands itch for a cigarette as her eyes find the bird still circling above, “I send her postcards basically every chance I get. But I think I’ve definitely figured out a lot of things.”

“Yeah? What kind of things?” Steph leans closer, her hand moving to plant itself next to Chloe’s.

“Well for one I was a blind idiot in highschool, that’s for fucking sure.”

That wonderful laugh of Steph’s fills Chloe’s chest with a warm tingling that spreads up her neck and to her scalp. “I mean, who wasn’t in highschool.”

The words catch in her throat for a moment, “True, but I was so distracted by someone else that I think I missed the best thing that could have happened to me.”

“I mean, you had one hell of a distraction.”

Chloe snorts softly, tapping the toes of her shoes together as she watches the bird spot something and swoop into a dive. “Maybe, but still, I wish I could go back and shake the younger me and be like ‘dude, she’s right there, pay attention to her!’”

“Good luck, I don’t know if you remember yourself, but you were crazy stubborn.” Steph snorts, her hand reaching up to pat Chloe on the shoulder.

“I dunno, I’m pretty sure I could get my past self to listen with a ‘hey, that hot girl isn’t going to jerk you around, maybe try and kiss her or something you dork’.”

“Oh, you think I’d kiss you, huh?” Steph’s tone is low and teasing as she leans in, and Chloe can instantly feel her cheeks get set to high.

“I dunno, call it a hunch,” she mumbles in reply, a hand reaching up to rub the back of her neck. Fuck, I’m so warm my ears have gotta be red now.

“Just a hunch? Are you willing to take that bet?”

“I-I… yeah, maybe?” Fuck! Way to stumble over your words dumbass! “What’re my odds?”

There’s a soft snort from Steph as she leans forwards into Chloe’s field of view, a smirk on her face, “Someone’s stalling.”

“Whoa, hey,” Chloe grumbles, her heart pounding faster at that knowing grin pointed right at her, “I’m hella not stalling, I’m just-”

“Just kiss me already Chloe.”

It feels like her face is burning as she leans in, her fingers brushing up against Steph’s hand, “Shit, talk about rolling a crit.”

#prompt fill #fluff and angst prompt #chloe price #steph gingrich #pricerich #fanfiction

[commander-coppercogg]

Commander’s Log: Cantha, part 3

Alright still taking things slow due to time constraints. Really looking forward to this weekend where I can just play as much as I want. Anyway here we go!

So first off we decided to go ahead and finish up the rest of the Shing Jea map. It’s got a really cool sense of verticality but it’s so much more open than the HoT maps. There I feel like I’m constantly scrambling from updraft to tree branch to mount to glider to getting shot out of the sky. Here I can just chuck myself off a cliff and glide for minutes at a time enjoying the scenery and drifting along. It’s really chill

I only played the first bits of Guild Wars Factions but even so I swear I keep seeing little bits I recognize. I don’t think it’s the exact same place or buildings but I’m definitely recognizing names and inspirations. Can’t imagine what this is like for someone who was super involved in Factions.

The fact that I can’t talk to NPCs is still really weirding me out. To me it’s such a delight of discovering who you can and can’t talk to. I feel like every time I come back to a map after awhile I discover someone new to talk to. That combined with the fact that most players seem to have moved onto the later maps leaves everything feeling a bit…empty? I guess? It’s taking some adjusting.

Oh damn this hero point glitched.

Unchained! And they’ve got new animations and abilities! Honestly I kinda just assumed they were gonna re use the stuff from Siren’s Landing and I was perfectly happy with that. So it’s cool to be surprised like this. Love that they still have the same old voice lines. Somethings never change

Heheh love this tengu convo of a bunch of friends calling each other nerds.

Ok we got the map totally filled other than the glitched hero point. I saw in map chat that anet is aware so we’ll hop back and get it later.

Taking a break to poke at some character stuff. Both Scrapper and Deadeye got nerfed a fair bit, especially Deadeye. The ability Syrryl uses to regain health on critical hits has been cut from 10% to 4%. Over half. And my barrier generation has definitely been affected too. I’m having to heal a lot more often. This isn’t as big a deal for me, I’m very tanky to the point that I can get through major fights without healing myself at all, but it’s definitely hitting my boyfriend pretty hard.

Ok my boyfriend tried out Specter for a little bit and while it was fun to image Syrryl just deciding to learn magic, he ultimately decided to stick with Deadeye. We’ve swapped up our builds and play styles a little bit but this has definitely been a wake up call for me. When I first started playing I wasn’t a super great gamer. I’ve definitely gotten better but often times with Bertie, I’ll just planted him next to an enemy and swing my hammer til it’s dead. I’m having to be more mobile and strategic. The good thing is playing Mesmer and Elementalist has given me some practice with this. It’s really fun to use the techniques I’ve been using with Wardd and Biarr as Bertie. It does take a lot more focus tho.

Also

While he was trying things out I went poking at some achievements. Mostly I wanted to see what it took to make the Mechanist’s Ascended weapon. And one of the things you have to do it defend a Void touched enemy.

Void touched

Void

HOLY SHIT ITS BEEN STARING US IN THE FACE HOW DID WE NEVER THINK IF VOID???!!! We both been talking for months and circling this concept theorizing the the last dragons is fear it’s mystery it’s water it’s hidden it’s concealed and then the trailer dropped and I said the stuff looked like the Hunger from the Adventure Zone and we’ve were so close we had the general idea but VOID! That makes so much sense it ties everything together it’s the opposite of Aurene’s light oh my god holy shit

The Dragon of Void and Water

Maybe this is why it doesn’t have minions?? Aaaa I can’t wait to find out more

Did some events. They’re really leaning into the mystery angle of things. We investigated a fake haunting and rooted out undercover Purity agents at a party. Also Anet really isn’t fucking around. They blatantly call the Purists xenophobic bigots and fascists and make it clear that the only way to deal with people like that is violence. It’s nice to see that continued from Icebrood Saga. Points at my Fix-r-Upper hammer: this machine kills fascists.

Alright story time!

Akane continues to be such a mood. And damn her longbow is super impressive.

Ah I love opportunities to dig through archives and read in world texts I think it’s so cool and makes me feel like I’m back at the Prioray and Holy shit these budgetary numbers are insane! Oh my god I feel like a scandalized tax accountant saying that lol. But seriously Cantha is just so entirely on another level than anything else in Tyria it’s bonkers. Like 30 million gold??????

Hmmm Li shut down an investigation into Purity stuff for “insufficient evidence”. Hmmmmmmm

Ahdklskjjakl this one is just: DAVE STOP LOOKING AT PORN AT WORK DO THAT NASTY SHIT AT HOME oh my god the low key horniness continuesssssss

Alright time to go meet up with Jory and Gorrick. I’m so excited to see Jory’s detective side.

Wow Gorrick is getting feisty. Bud I need you to take a deep breath.

Ok wow these audio logs are a lot. First impression wow does Mai talk about Scarlett in a very…intense way. Like ok that’s some vibes there. I dunno what they were like in season 1 but uh that’s some choice words there. Renyak is giving me big “I’m a weirdo basement dwelling creep” so we’ll see where that goes. I like Ivan so far he seems to be the most stable. And then Ankka….

Holy shit that is some intense nihilism there. Like wow that goes so far beyond like…anything I expected from her. Wow. And uuugh the way she talks about Gorrick about hating him and his obliviousness. That’s such a toxic way of thinking. Like Gorrick isn’t oblivious he just parses information differently. But Ankka has just decided that he’s oblivious and thus deserving of her hatred and now dismissal. This is one hell of character thesis statement and like honestly I think my boyfriend said it best: “That’s not a diary entry. That’s the note you leave behind before you go blow up a building.”

We got a guy! Good cop bad cop time! Ah I love all the comments people are making about asura it’s giving me life. “Pointy little claws” indeed! Also again Gorrick, Imma need you to slow your roll please.

Starting to see some parallels between Gorrick’s sudden go hung-ness and Aurene deserves tos be involved now.

Knee cap privileges: REVOKED!

“Ah shit we’re beating up the maintainece guy. Now I feel bad.” Pffft sorry dude

Oh shit Taimi what’s happening to Aurene is she ok????!

Aurene aurene aurene my baby is she ok???? She’s stopped moving?! But is sleeping? Not sleeping? Joon is here? Caithe also isn’t moving what is happening??

Oh my god oh my god oh my god

They’re talking

Quick tangent before I YELL: heheheh Syrryl got stuck as a ball of light again this has become such a running gag with us Bertie and Syrryl are very matter of fact about visions at this point in their lives Syrryl just doesn’t get why Bertie gets to have his full body while he doesn’t lol

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA WE HAVE A NAMEEEE

Soo Won the final Elder Dragon

THE FIRST ELDER DRAGON?????

SHES MOTHER?????

oh my god the way the lighting changes depending on who’s talking god EoD has been so so cinamatic I feel like I’m watching a movie

She wants Aurene to take her place. As the one Elder Dragon ok ok ok we knew this was a possibility ok

Holy shot holy shit holy shot

Ok Joon was working with the Aetherblades no surprises there. That explains how she’s been getting outside info and knows about asura tech. Oh her line about how she could have made Mai disappear is interesting. The delivery wasn’t cruel it was just so matter of fact. I’m really liking Joon.

I also like that Taimi and Gorrick despite being in the same place for the first time in awhile aren’t immediately yelling at each other. I’m still mostly enjoying this plot line so far but I’m glad the writers have their priorities in order

But oh my god I don’t know why I didn’t consider this. The people of Cantha know who Soo Won is. Just like the people of Tyria knew who Primordus and Jormag and Zhaitan and Kralkatorrick were. Just because it’s a mystery to us doesn’t mean it’s a mystery to them! That’s so brilliantly straightforward! It’s such a good twist in our expectations! God I’m idiot! But I don’t feel stupid!

Ok so now I’m thinking that the Void maybe isn’t from Soo Won?? She doesn’t seem antagonistic but we only have her word on that. Like she’s feels surprisingly straightforward and not manipulative. She’s being very clear. But can we trust her? Cautiously I say yes and that why I don’t think the Void is coming from her. I think that whatever the Void is it’s the bad guy of this story.

There’s still clearly so much we don’t know and so much to learn but ahhhhhh ok ok all my expectations have been blown out of the water (lol) in the best possible way I’m so excited to keep going

#connor's stuff #my writing #Cantha #end of dragons #end of dragons spoilers #commander’s log

[kyber-kisses]

Through A Mothers Eyes (Part 3)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Wanna start from the beginning? Here is the masterlist!

Warnings: crack, cursing, idiots to lovers trope (that good shit)

Summary: When Mary meets Deans closest and best friend, she cant help but see the chemistry between them. . .but she might be the only one as well.

A/n: Its back! It took me awhile to motivate myself to write the next chapter, but I did it! I hope you enjoy and feedback is greatly appreciated! (gif made by rainbow-motors)

If Mary thought living in a bunker with her two sons and you was chaotic. . . She was definitely not prepared at all for what game night meant. Not. One. Bit.

It was like a fucking war zone.

Halfway through Jenga she almost expected you and Dean to slap on some war paint, she had never seen such competitive people before in her life.

And then you brought out Uno.

“Fuckin demolish him Cas!” You yelled, hands planted firmly on the table as you watched the angel and hunter slap down colored cards furiously. You, Sam, and Mary had all lost already, resulting in you being Cas’s new hype man.

“Y/N, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

“There are no sides in Uno, Dean!”

“Then why the hell are you cheering on Cas?!” Dean slapped down another card. The two were almost running out of cards to play that it hit the point where Sam had to start shuffling the played cards so they could continue. “As your best friend let me just say; I find that insulting.”

“False. Cas is actually my best friend.” You responded bluntly, raising your hand to connect it with the angels in a loud high five.

Dean paused to narrow his eyes in your direction. “. . . Anyways, as your best friend- I’m telling you, you can’t pick sides.”

“Oh and where pray tell did you get that idea from?”

“The best friend rule book.”

You laughed. “Oh yeah, let’s whip that one out and crack it open, I’d love to read it!” You paused, turning to his mother with a soft smile. “I’m so sorry you have to witness this. He’s just a pain in my ass.”

Resting her chin in her hand, Mary returned the smile, still mildly amused at what was playing out in front of her. “I can tell. But I’m pretty sure he’s a pain in everyone’s butt.”

Deans mouth popped open in shock as his lips momentarily failed at trying to form words. “Now you’re taking her side too?!”

“I mean-“ you paused, flicking your hair over your shoulder. “I am fucking amazing. Plus, your mom just knows who the cooler person is out of the two of us-“

“Oh you little-“ dean growled, rolling up his sleeves after slapping his cards down on the table.

“Is this really necessary?” Cas muttered, eyes still on his cards and clearly trying to plan his next move.

“Oh you fuckin know it.”

“Maybe your mom should just adopt me. I could replace you! I am way more fun!” You laughed, backing up as Dean slowly rose from his seat. “Plus, you’re moms way more cool than you.” You joked, eyes lighting up when you looked at Dean and saw him moving towards you. You maneuvered around the table, the two of you moving back and forth as you tried to dodge Dean, trying to keep the table between you.

“You’re such an asshole!”

“You know it baby.” Shooting him a wink you ducked behind Sam's large frame, using him as a shield.

“Oh no- don’t go bringing me into this.” Sam tried, shaking his head as you gripped his shoulders.

“Just hold him off for me will ya?”

“And what do I get in return?”

“. . . the next time its your turn for a supply run, ill do it.”

A pause. “Deal.”

“Sam!”

The younger Winchester shrugged as he held out his arms, stopping Dean from reaching you. “What? Y/Ns more negotiable that you are.”

You let out a cackle before standing on your top toes to press a firm kiss to Sams cheek. “Thanks Samantha!”

You took off down the hallway before Dean could even attempt to move Sam. The younger Winchester continuing to block his brother as he tried to move past him. After a moment Dean gave up, falling back into his seat. “Alright, fine. I admit defeat. . .you can put your arms down..”

“If I do are you gonna go kill her?”

“. . . Maybe.”

“Dean!” Mary hissed, shaking her head at her sons antics.

“What? She’s a pain in the ass!”

Mary only shook her head again. That was until Cas spoke up again. “Am I supposed to say Uno?”

*. *. *. *. *. *.

The rest of the night became much calmer after that, you and Dean were back to your usual shenanigans and held up in the Dean cave watching some old western, Sam had headed off to bed because apparently you and Dean “drain his energy” Or whatever. Cas was for some reason still up cataloging some of the bunkers lore. As for mother Winchester, she found herself seated at the kitchen table, reading a book you had lent her a little over a week ago.

Mary almost didn’t see you walk in at first, with most of the lights still off it was like darkened hallway spit you out. Hands in the pockets of your sweatpants you quietly trudged into the room, pausing at the sight of Mary.

“You liking the book?”

Mary looked up, a small smile gracing her lips at the sight of you. “Yes I am, thank you for lending it to me.”

“No problem. Honestly it was just sitting on my desk collecting dust. I read it and never picked it up again” You admitted with a shrug. Walking past her, you filled your empty glass at the sink before moving back and lowering yourself into the seat across from her. “I’m sorry about earlier. Deans and Is energy can be a little overwhelming at times.”

“You don’t need to apologize. If anything I should be thanking you.” She closed her book, folding her arms over the surface of the table.

“What for?”

Mary let out a sigh. “Even if I haven’t been back for very long, it’s easy to see the effect you have on Dean. He’s happier when you're around, you get him to laugh more than anyone else here.”

“I think you're just seeing his slow decent into insanity.” You chuckled, looking down at your folded hands. “I’m told I have that effect on people.”

“Oh I don’t think that’s true.”

You opened your mouth to answer but stopped when you looked past Mary, eyebrow instantly raising. “What?”

Mary turned in her seat, her eyes finding her oldest son standing in the darkened doorway, your blue blanket wrapped around him. Dean narrowed his eyes at you. “You left me.”

“. . . I’m sorry?”

He stepped down into the kitchen, eyes still glazed over with a slight sleepiness. “It was rude.”

“You were asleep! I didn’t want to wake you up!” You threw your hands in the air, unable to believe the man sinking down into the vacant seat next to you. He yawned, his head falling against your shoulder as he closed his eyes.

“But by your didn’t have to leave me by myself. I woke up and you were gone.”

You rolled your eyes, hand coming up to pat the side of his head. “You poor baby, whatever shall you do now?”

“Mmm haven’t gotten that far yet.”

“Did you really just come in here to fall asleep on me again? Just go to bed Dean.”

“Don’t wanna.” He sighed, wrapping your blanket tighter around him.

“I swear you like a five year old.”

“I am not.”

“You totally are.” You paused. “But seriously Dean, go to bed. I ain’t dragging you down the hallway to your room when you fall asleep on me again.” You gave him another pat before standing up put your now empty glass in the sink, having practically chugged it moments before.

Groaning once more, Dean slowly blinked his eyes open and turned his attention to his mother. “What are you still doing up? I thought you went to bed.”

“Couldn’t sleep, thought I’d stay up and read instead. Y/N lent me a book to read.”

Turning his head to look between you and his mom he shook it in disbelief. “God, I live with a bunch of nerds.”

“Dean you can’t say anything about that. You're like the biggest nerd out of all of us.”

“. . . Shut up. Plus, you're no better. If anything I'm this way because of you.”

“Sure, Jan. You keep telling yourself that.”

Dean paused when he looked back over to his mom, seeing a soft smile on her features. “What?”

“Just the two of you-“

“What about the two of us?” He questioned, sliding the blanket off of his shoulders as he stood up before folding it and handing it back to its rightful owner.

“I just- I think you two would make a cute couple.”

There was a pause as the two of you looked at each other.

“Me? . . .And her?” Dean threw a thumb over his shoulder in your direction.

“Me and Dean?”

Another pause. And then a light laugh was bubbling up from both of your throats- before quickly turning into full bellied laughter. Dean had his hands planted on his knees and your head was thrown back as you grabbed at you gut. The two of you quickly dissolving into fits of hysteria. It went on for a good minute before starting to fizzle out.

Ahaha! Whew-“ Dean chuckled, wiping the tears from his eyes as he stood up properly again. “That- that was good.”

“Oh god-“ you bent over, hands still on your sides. “My gut hurts- I haven’t laughed like that in awhile.” You panted.

“Yeah, thank you for that mom.” Dean patted his mother’s shoulder as he passed. “That just made my entire day.”

Once you had mostly regained your composure, you took a deep breath. “Okay, well as much fun as that was- I’m gonna go to bed. Goodnight Mary, Dean.” Giving gone last nod you stepped into the hallway along with Dean, the two of you connecting your palms in a loud high five before walking off in separate directions.

Meanwhile Mary sat silently at the table, the only thing running through her mind being what the fuck just happened?

SPN Taglist (Still open!)

@familybusinesswritingbro​@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti​ @callmekda​ @jordangdelacruz​ @orphiceseum​ @andthatsmyworld​ @marvelfangirllll​ @fandomnerdespressourself​ @gladiosamicitias​ @castielsangelsx​ @lxstgxrl-ck​ @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff​ @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl  @totallyluciferr​ @supernaturalenchanted​ @dolanfivsosxox@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts​ @akshi8278 @defenderrosetyler​ @heyyy-hey-babyyy​ @supernaturalenchanted@emptycanvasposts @vicmc624 @all-will-be-well-love@busy-bee-angel-misska @starsandmidnightblue​ @lilulo-12fanfiction @beanie-beebo​ @xoxoaudreymarie​ @greenarrowhead​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​  @mysticalfuncollectorus​ @brebolin​ @biahblue​ @noahandthegiraffe​ @hhiggs​​ @mila-dans​

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #spn x reader #SPN #bi-danvers writing

[tommysparker]

Man In Leather

Harrison Osterfield x Fem!Reader

A/N: Woah, two fics in a row? Crazy I know. Anyways, here is the LONG awaited fic! I’m sorry it took so long to write, but here it is. Black&White CH.2 will be the main focus of my writing until I get it done, so stay tuned for whenever the hell that comes out. Till then, enjoy :)

Warnings: smut, couple no-no words, Harrison going commando in leather pants, fluff at the end and a bit of pining, kind of Grease!AU, hints of sub!haz, bad porn with an even worse plot

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The music was loud, the people were drunk, and you were hanging around the snack table while scanning the room, solo cup filled with death juice in hand. Totally normal Friday night. 

Your friends had left to go mingle, but not before encouraging you to find someone to get busy with, someone to get your mind off of him.  

Your mind wandered at the thought of him. Taken back to the summer nights on the beach, the sound of waves crashing against rocks as you cuddled on the bench-swing. Those late nights and early mornings filled with passion and intimacy…only to be ripped away when autumn decided to fall. 

“Well well well, if it isn’t Y/n Y/L/N,” a british accent sang over the music. 

You turned your head to see the infamous Tom Holland, with Greg Birks and a boy you didn't recognize standing behind him. 

“Tommy, long time no see,” you smiled. Tom had been a close friend of yours growing up, but grew apart under...unfortunate circumstances. “Thought you were too cool to hangout at shitshows like this?”

Tom laughed, “Only you would call one of the biggest parties on the block a “shitshow” darling. I’m actually here because a certain person wanted to see you,” his eyes glanced back at the guy standing next to Greg. 

The boy stepped forward, and you nearly fainted right there after one look. 

Harrison James Fucking Osterfield...in leather pants. 

The blue-eyed boy stood composed, but on the inside you knew he was nervous. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips, which was new. Who were you kidding, everything about the person that stood in front of you was new. 

Last time you saw Harrison, he was wearing a cream-coloured sweater and sweatpants, hair messy and glasses pushed up on the bridge of his nose. And now, a year later, here he was. Except this time decked out in a leather jacket and white-tee, pants that honestly did not look comfortable, hair gelled back and eyes illuminated by the flashing lights. 

It took a few seconds for the initial shock to wear off before you collected yourself. “H-Haz I-...I didn’t recognize you, um, you look good.” You mentally cursed yourself for stuttering. Get it together Y/L/N. 

Harrison smiled, taking in your appearance while his mind went back to the time you spent together. No matter what you were, or weren’t, wearing, you always looked incredible from his perspective. “Hi Y/n…” 

Tom took one glance between you two before pulling on Greg’s arm. “We’ll let you two catch up,” he not-so-subtly winked at Haz before soon being swallowed by the crowd of pissed partiers

The air suddenly became stiff once it was just you and him, neither of you knowing what to say next. Harrison fiddled with the silver ring on his finger, something you quickly took notice of. 

“That’s new...I mean, well everything about you is new. What happened to Haz who wore knit-jumpers and spec?” You questioned, genuinely curious how and more importantly why the sudden transformation from ‘library nerd’ to ‘biker gang’. 

He smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke. “Yeah well, the boys thought it was time for a makeover...d-do you like it?” He studied your face, hoping for a positive reaction. 

You took in his attire again, except this time with more focus on how the material hugged his legs and arms tightly, and how the white-tee really brought out his eyes in the dim light, and how fucking sexy he looks with his hair gelled back like that. Oh yeah, you definitely like it. 

A wave of confidence flooded your body as you grabbed the sides of his face and crashed your lips onto his. Haz, startled at first but quickly came back to his senses, kissed back almost immediately. The familiar feeling of your lips moulding with his brought back so many memories. 

Stolen kisses before bed, hands all over each other, you pushing him onto the bed, holding his arms up and-- 

You were the first to pull away, breathing slightly heavier and a small smile forming at the corner of your mouth. “let me show you how much I love it.” You whispered in his ear, placing a gentle kiss at the edge before taking his hand and maneuvering your way to the upstairs rooms. Luckily for you, the owner of the house was a friend of a friend, so you had no problem finding a place with a decent sized bed. 

Harrison followed you eagerly, more recollections passing through his mind as he felt his pants become tighter than they already were. The whole journey up the stairs was a mess between quick kisses and tripping over one another, but a remaining constant was his hand laced into yours, without any objections. 

Once you both stumbled into the empty room and closed the door, Harrison pulled you into a needy make-out session. Your back was pressed against the wall while your hands wandered beneath the leather jacket, feeling his toned muscle through the thin shirt. Meanwhile, the blue-eyed boy gripped your hips, squeezing the love-handles gently causing a light hum to emit from your vocal cords. His fingers gently tugged at the hem of your shirt, and that’s when you knew it was time. The music from downstairs drowned out from both your awareness, in that moment the only thing you could focus on was each other and the burning desire that was cutting the tension in the room. 

Hesitantly, you pushed Harrison off of you, not missing the soft whine he let out and the slightly hurt expression he wore on his face. It, however, was quickly replaced with a smile when crossed your arms over and pulled your top off slowly. His eyes drank in every part of your torso, thinking how someone like him ever got the chance to score someone like you.

Little did he know, you were thinking the same thing. 

Once your shirt was tossed aimlessly across the room, you swiftly recaptured his lips with yours and carefully guided yourselves to the bed. Harrison followed your lead, walking backwards until his legs hit the frame and he fell on to the mattress. 

Unfazed, you climbed on top of him, like a predator about to pounce on its prey. Your body hovered over his, breathing in sync as you straddled his waist. His hands went to grab your waist again, however they were quickly pushed above his head and into the duvet. Naturally, he didn’t expect anything less, and the dark look in your eyes only excited him further. 

“You gonna be a good boy for me, Hazzy?” You asked, smirking when you felt something twitch against your core. Seriously, who let this man wear these pants?

  The boy beneath you nodded. He knew how this worked. You were always in control, always the top, even when you weren’t. No matter how many times he’s gone down on you, it’s you who always has the authority. He wanted to be good for you, to please you like no one but him could. He wanted more than a summer fling or casual hook-up, he wanted you to be his. Only fitting seeing as, though you may not have realized it, he was already yours. 

The whole reason he asked Tom to help him change his ‘style’ was to get you to take interest in him again. You were always on his mind and he needed to do everything in his power to win you back in his life, even if that meant playing dress up in order to look more appealing. 

Harrison was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling your lips on his neck, hot kisses trailing up and down his throat. The sensation alone was enough to grab the attention of the little guy. 

You smiled slyly as you left marks on his neck, biting and sucking on the spots you knew would gain the most reaction. The blue-eyed boy let out breathy moans beneath you, hands switching from resting on the bed, your waist, your thighs, finally settling on cupping your breasts through your bra. You sat up as he squeezed the material gently, reaching around to unclip the undergarment while Harrison struggled to take the jacket off. 

Harrison heard you chuckle in amusement, blushing lightly as he finally managed to free his arm from the gripping sleeve. He didn’t hesitate to follow up by removing his shirt from the equation, which was much easier considering he was smart for once and put on a loose-fitting tee to give himself some breathing room. 

You stared shamelessly at the now-shirtless man in front of you, and all-be-damned if the greek gods didn’t bless him overnight with that gorgeous build. Holy shit, is the only thing you could think of as your fingers grazed over his torso, fingers tracing every ab and indent. 

Harrison squirmed under you, hips bucking up ever so slightly. He was slowly starting to get desperate and really needed any form of friction, so he took to grabbing your waist and grinding up into you, letting out a small sigh at the relief. 

You gasped quietly at the sudden sensation, instinctively moving your hips in sync so you were moving in unison, the sounds of small moans filling the room. You resumed your previous actions, planting your lips on different areas on the boy’s throat, slowly moving further down to his collarbone, a.k.a the sweet spot.  

Harrison mewled when he felt your teeth graze against the area, nipping and licking some of his most sensitive places. His hips moved faster while the grip on you tightened as he tried to get you to do the same. However, this apparently wasn’t the ideal. 

You grabbed his wrists, pushing them into the mattress above his head. You adored how he willingly let you do this, even though he could easily turn the tables with the amount of muscle the boy packed, he still continued to submit to your needs. “Getting needy, baby boy?” 

He nodded his head quickly, shifting beneath you. “Pants off, now.” 

“Not with that attitude,” you teased, letting go of his hands and moving your own down to his belt.

Harrison rolled his eyes, a smile forming on his clean-shaven face. “Please will you take off my pants before they’re too tight to move in?” 

You grinned, “Atta boy.” 

Hooking your fingers under the waistband, slowly pulling down the piece of clothing, Haz lifting his hips to aid the process. You struggled a bit, whacking yourself in the head with your arm more than once, earning a couple giggles from both parties, before finally getting past the -ahem- obstacle that prevented you from removing the material. 

Harrison audibly sighed in relief, happy to be free from his restraints. 

And to your surprise, his cock slapped against his lower-stomach, red and already leaking from the head. “Going commando, handsome? You dirty boy.” 

The flustered boy could only smile coyly, “In my defence, it was the easiest way to put those bloody things on.” 

“That’s fair,” you replied as you wrapped your hand around the swollen member and stroked it lightly. 

Haz let out a shaky breath, head leaning back as his eyes fell shut. Memories flashed before his eyes. 

Your mouth on his cock, moving your head up and down swiftly while he writhed beneath you. You held eye-contact, mischievous and confidence powering your every move. 

The feeling of your thighs shaking against his shoulders as he ate you out like it was the last meal he’d ever have, small whimpers coming from above while he rubbed his thumb against your clit. 

His hold on your ass as you rode him, kneading the flesh and overall desperate for something to hold on to. Your breasts bouncing in front of his eyes, a hand on his chest while the other gripped his hip. 

The sound of soft drawn out moans filling his ears. The feel of constantly being right on the edge, your walls squeezing him perfectly, his muscles twitching. Both backs arched in unison, a silent cry being released into the air as you both flew into total bliss. 

In real time, his body was reacting to the thoughts, as if he was really experiencing each scenario. Before he knew it, Harrison’s moans grew louder as he approached his climax, he looked down at you and immediately flung his head back into the pillow, the sight of you being too much to handle. 

Your tongue circled his tip, one hand pumping vigorously while the other massaged his balls. His cock twitched against your touch, but before it could reach it’s breaking point you eased up, retracting any stimulation provided and watched in amusement as Haz whined. 

“Oh come on! I was so close…” 

“I know,” You said while sitting up. “You didn’t think I would let you cum so soon, did you?” 

Harrison shook his head slowly, blue eyes dark with lust as he watched you shimmy out of your bottoms. He took in your image, every piece of you being painted in his mind like a beautiful muse. Every stretch mark, every battle scar, your body was like a drug he was addicted to.

You straddled his waist, this time bare skin against bare skin, grinding against him. You moaned every time your clit caught against his tip. Leaning down, your mouth explored every part of his torso, tongue circling his nipples before sliding up and tracing his collarbone, your lips leaving love bites in its wake. The sight of him under you, all marked up was enough to put an end to your own game. Afterall, you were teasing yourself just as much as you were teasing him. 

Harrison, as if sensing what was about to happen next, held your hips and gave them a gentle squeeze. “Th-there’s condoms in my pocket...either my jacket or pants, don’t remember.” 

“Seems to me like you planned this,” You said as you got up and started searching through the discarded clothing. 

The boy blushed, “Well I knew you would be here so... thought might as well take the chance,” he shrugged, subtly eyeing your ass when you bent over to pick up his jacket. 

You hummed in response, smiling when you found the small square packet. You were about to put the leather down, but instead decided to put it on. You shivered a bit when the cold material touched your skin, turning around to see Harrison gaping at your new look. 

“You...look really hot in that.”

You chuckled, climbing back on top and tearing the plastic away with your teeth. “According to you, I look hot in everything.” 

“I’m not wrong though,” He grinned, biting his lip as he felt the latex slide down his cock. It wasn’t always ideal, but better safe than sorry. 

In one swift motion, you connected like two puzzle pieces, a perfect fit. His tip nudging that spot inside you without even trying. You both let out a sigh at the familiar feeling, not moving, just letting the memory of sex on the beachhouse balcony pass through your minds, all the moments of enjoying each others presence in pure bliss. 

Your own bodies betray the wishful thinking of staying in the moment. You clench around him and he moans lightly, and a simple sound like that was all you needed to set off that fire boiling inside your core. 

You raise your hips until only the head of his cock is in and sink back down on his length, setting a passionate yet frantic pace, your heart wanting to feel every second but your brain forcing your body to tend to its pleasurable needs. 

The room feels silent, save for sounds that follow your actions. Neither of you hear the people downstairs, nor can you feel the vibrations of the music blasting through speakers. You only hear each other’s moans, feel each other’s touch. 

It goes by in a blur. At one point his mouth was on your breast, your hand was on his throat, both of you lost in the time spent together. 

After all was done, you both laid in the other’s embrace, his hand playing with your hair while you traced shapes on his naked chest, the warm leather jacket increasing the sense of security you felt around him. 

“You know…” You spoke suddenly, breaking the otherwise comfortable silence that had settled between the two of you, “You don’t have to change your clothes just to get me into you.” 

Harrison tensed a little, unsure where this conversation was headed. “Yeah…? I-I guess I just figured since you were into the whole ‘Greaser’ look more...if I was like that then...maybe you’d...uh...go out with me? For real this time.” 

You smiled, leaning up to place a gentle kiss on his now-swollen lips. “You div, if you asked months ago you would’ve known I don’t care about what kind of pants you wear. I just want the Harrison I had last summer…” 

The blue-eyed boy smiled back, “Then you have him...you’ve always had him, darling.” 

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Happy Birthday Harrison!!

All: @greenorangevioletgrass @allegra-writes @soraitmnt @worldoftom @farfromparker @angel-spidey @parkerpeter24 @god-knows-what-am-i-doing​ @the-panwitch @rebekkah4766 @hollandsamor @spideygirl2003 @theactualprincessofeverything @halfblood-princess-505 @the-crazy-fanfictionist

Harrison Osterfield: @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield smut #harrison osterfield x y/n #harrison x reader #harrison x y/n #harrison osterfield fanfic #grease!au #sub!haz #sub!harrison osterfield #sub!harrison #rae writes sometimes

[hyunderwater]

fairy dust 03

pairing: jay x jungwon (enhypen)

warnings: swearing, some mentions of baking but no real food mentions, minor sexual language and pet names

genre: romance, heavy fluff (its jaywon what else would it be) a bit of pining

summary: jay calls for help and jungwon answers (unexpectedly)

wc: 1.4k

ao3 link<-

01-02-03-04-05-06

As it turned out, Sunghoon and Jake didn’t have to wait long to meet Jay’s “fairy boo” as excitedly put by Sunghoon.

The day was pretty boring so far, if Jay was being honest. He had gone to all of his classes as usual, and then had gone to Jake’s house with Sunghoon after school. They were all lying on Jake's bed with Layla and a giant bag of chips as per usual when Sunghoon decided to bring up Jay’s feelings again. “Sooooo, how’s your fairy?”

“He’s not mine. He’s his own person...fairy? person? I don’t know. Um. I guess... I think he’s fine. Or. Yeah.” Jake sighed loudly, obviously irritated by the lack of information. “Jay. I know you’re the most ‘ew feelings’ person I’ve ever met, but you’ve gotta have more coherent thoughts about him than um and yeah,” Jake argued. Jay let out a couple incoherent protests before mumbling out something that sounded a hell of a lot like “eyes face smile pretty nice cute yeah”. Jake and Sunghoon let out twin grunts of anger before simultaneously advancing towards Jay, something petrifying burning in their eyes. Soulmate things, Jay supposed. They drew closer, Jake settling into a position that practically screamed, “I’m gonna jump on top of you and make bone meal out of your weak little skeleton and then use it on my plants in Minecraft to make them grow.”

“Did you seriously just make a Minecraft reference while trying to threaten me?” Jake flushed slightly. “Shut up, Jay. I’m trying to hurt you here.”

“Hurt him with what, a diamond pickaxe?,” Sunghoon teased from the other side of Jay. Jake scoffed. “Naw, I’m not wasting my diamonds on this ho. Also who the fuck uses a pickaxe for attacking people?” Sunghoon slapped a hand to his chest in mock anger and shock. “I thought we were past the point of you criticizing my Minecraft choices?” Jake rolled his eyes. “Baby, it happened one time. And that was only because you were trying to put a jungle door in a spruce house; like how can someone with such an impeccable sense of style be that shit at Minecraft aesthetics?”

“Can you two please stop compliment-arguing each other about your shared Minecraft server or whatever the hell is happening over there? What, are you two just perpetually in the ‘we are nerds that just started dating and therefore must have a Minecraft server with beds right next to each other’ era?” Jake turned back to look at Jay, his eyes filled with malice. Jay was practically rolling on the bed in laughter until Jake hollered, “DON’T THINK I FORGOT WHY WE STARTED FIGHTING IN THE FIRST PLACE!” before jumping on top of Jay, squishing his ribs. Jay swore he could feel each one become jelly. “Jungwoniee helpppp” he pleaded at the pillow he was squashed into.

At the moment, Jay wasn’t exactly sure why the fairy was the first thing that came to mind to ask for help. All he knew was that one second Jake was on top of him and he was screaming for help, and the next a small shape swooped gracefully through Jake’s open window, causing the other two boys to jump away from Jay in shock.

“Holy SHIT,” Jake squeaked, his voice slightly cracking on the last note. “What- is that a butterfly?,” asked Sunghoon, pointing at the tiny winged figure that was rapidly descending toward Jay’s nose. The creature perched there, and Jay went cross-eyed trying to look at it. “You look stupid like that,” Jungwon observed lightly.

Sunghoon and Jake’s mouths dropped open at the exact same time. “Did that butterfly just call Jay stupid?” Jay watched in a trance as the fairy drifted off of his nose and onto the bed next to him, then slowly grew to his normal height. Sunghoon dramatically crumpled to the floor, promptly pulling Jake with him. “OW.”

“JAKE SHUT UP WE JUST WITNESSED MAGIC!”

Jay shook his head, turning to a very perplexed looking Jungwon. Jay wasn’t going to lie; he suddenly had a strange urge to make confusing Jungwon a regular thing just so he could see that face again. “Sorry, my friends are-” he cast a glance at the two on the floor who were currently flirt-yelling at each other, “-unusual.” Jungwon huffed out a breathy little laugh, and Jay felt warm all over in the coziest way. “Don’t worry, I’m pretty used to the unusual,” Jungwon reassured him, gesturing at his wings, which were fluttering lightly in the breeze from the open window. They both laughed softly, and for a painfully short moment, Jay’s world was Jungwon. His cute smile, the way he rolled his eyes, the pretty fluttering of his delicate wings, the soft pink blush that blanketed his cheeks and ears whenever Jay called him stupidly cheesy pet names. Jungwon, Jungwon, Jungwon, Jungwon.

“WAIT, IS THIS YOUR CUTE FAIRY BOY?”

Jay startled, Sunghoon’s screaming interrupting an important moment in his brain. “Uh.” He cast a glance at Jungwon, who had seemed to assume the rosy blush that Jay adored at the implication that Jay had called him cute. A little extra gold power glittered in the warm pools of sunlight streaking out from the window, bathing Jake’s hardwood floors and soft carpet in radiance. The sight was enough to instill a little confidence in Jay again. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s my cute fairy boy. Jungwon, this is Jake and Sunghoon, two of my best friends. They’re the ones that want to be at the bakeoff.” Jungwon gave them a tentative smile, clearly still flustered over the affection from the older human. “Hi, um. I think I can assume Jay’s told you guys something about me?”

“Huh, something? More like daily rants about how cute and adorable he th-”

“Okay! Uh, how- um. What exactly… Jungwonie, how did you get here?” Jay did his best to ask the question gently, not wanting to upset the fairy with a patronizing tone. “Jay, you called for me?” Jay cocked his head to the side, a question poised on his lips. Then he remembers, and the words evaporate from his tongue. “I called for you. I… I said your name.” Jungwon gives him an obviously confused smile. “Yeah, you did. Uh, why exactly? I mean, I love seeing you but- why?” Jay smiled at Jungwon’s small confession. “You love seeing me, sweetheart?” Jungwon rolled his eyes. “Answer the question, angry bird.”

“Fine, yeah. It’s these two idiots' faults. J-” Sunghoon let out an indignant squawk. “You’re the idiot-”

“-Jake was sitting on top of me and crumpling my ribs, so I guess I just asked the first thing that came to mind to help me.” Jungwon gave him a mischievous smile. “I was the first thing that came to your mind?” Jay mentally smacked himself in the face for revealing that. “Well. It’s not like I could call for either of my best friends,” Jay said, tossing a pointed look at Jake and Sunghoon. It was the kind of look that would normally pin someone to their chair in fear, but Jake and Sunghoon barely moved, all too used to Jay’s glares. Sunghoon gave a small smirk to Jay, and it was only then that Jay finally realized the position he was in. He was sitting on a bed less than five inches away from the thing that Jay had big fat Feelings for. He sucked in a gasp, trying his best to seem unshaken by the proximity. Unfortunately, Jungwon was probably equipped with some kind of Jay radar (jaydar), because he noticed the slight change in Jay’s body language in seconds. “Jay, are you uncomfortable? I realize that this was rather rude of me, and I’ll leave whenever you want me to.” Jay blushed slightly, casting glances at Jake and Sunghoon. “I don’t want you to leave-” At the same time that Jay admitted that, Jungwon blurted, “I actually need to go-”. They stared at each other for a few tension-filled seconds of silence before Jay sheepishly said, “If you need to go, feel free to. I- uh, it was fun to see you, sweetheart.” He tacked on the name at the end, desperately searching for any kind of reaction. Jungwon looked down at his hands, his ears tipped with a faint pink. Jay felt a kind of victorious feeling and deep affection. They said their goodbyes, then Jay watched Jungwon shrink down so he could fly back. Before he left, he swooped over to cover next to the shell of Jay’s ear. “See you soon, angry bird,” he murmured. The fairy dove out of the window in a swirl of lavender, leaving behind traces of himself in the golden dust settling in the corners and the fuzzy static in Jay’s brain left behind by his smooth, golden voice.

<<<previous next>>>

#enhypen #jaywon #enha #idol x idol #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop boys #kpopidol #jungwon #yang jungwon #park jongseong #jay park #park jay #enhypen jay #sunghoon #jakehoon #jake enhypen #heeseung #sunoo #ni ki enhypen #niki #enhypen fic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #fairy dust #kpop fic #kpop au