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bonefall · 2 months

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Do you have a design for Bright Storm? I'm fond of the wise older figure thing you're doing with her

I do NOW

Made her, as well as a revamp of my old Thunder Storm design (I last drew him like a year ago!!) in preparation for some character summaries I plan to bang out after finishing a couple drafts, but Bright in particular gets requested so much (anon you're like the 4th person) that HERE, lady girl and her son be upon ye

I'm thinking about doing the BB!DOTC character summaries in "family" posts, so they're all grouped together the way I plan them to act in the story. Every family is telling a little mini-story of its own, in a way, from the Frost family and their inventing prowess, to the Heart family and how the kits react to Bumble's exile, to the Storm family and how they grapple with Clear Sky's influence.

I wanted to make sure Bright Storm was very large and powerful looking, but in a round, kind of "humble" way. She downplays her strength, her intelligence, and even her better judgement.

So she has these big cheeks, fluffy primordial pouch, poofy tail, keeps her head low-ish. Tends to deny compliments.

I was commiserating with my partner the other day about how intelligent characters aren't allowed to be thick-bodied. So between my fat, beloved Bumble the translator and Bright Storm the wise woman battle strategist I'm feeding us both

I needed to "finalize" their stripe pattern, because I actually plan for TIGERSTAR to have the same one. I'm probably going to update my Tawnypelt and Bramblestar designs to have it too; if they don't look better with Goldenflower's.

I just like the irony and bitterness of it. That these ancient stripes, once so associated with compassion and righteous fury, turn into a "legacy" so divorced from what Thunder Storm and Bright Storm stood for.

Becoming a symbol for the idea of modern ThunderClan and the culture of the new times, not the principles it was founded on.

Also I HAD to do the design thing where Thunder Storm's stripes look like top surgery scars lmao, my beloved transmasc boy

Anyway, I've decided that Thunder Storm was a REALLY dark orange. It bugs me a little, especially in-canon, that he looks nothing like either parent. So in BB he's not too far off color-wise from his mama.

I also removed the old "mane" and replaced it with combination white chest + his father's shoulder burls. The mane is going to become a Forest Cat trait, which is why it's going to get so prominent in ThunderClan.

Instead, Mountain Cats have a REALLY high concentration of ear tufts in their genes. They're also huge and generally hairy.

Funny enough though they're also "oily." They come from the Lake Cat population which was pretty water-resistant because of constantly dealing with the lake, and they haven't lived in the Mountains long enough for natural selection to get rid of it.

It's going to become SUPER advantageous for those who move to the River Kingdom, but become less prominent in the other populations.

But for now, Mountain Cats are kinda... well, naturally 'stinky.' That's not a BAD thing to cats who are animals who LIKE strong smells, but it is a notable trait that I'd like The Wind Runner in particular to comment on.

Thunder Storm: "Well? What did she say?"

Bumble: "Ummmmmm......"

Thunder Storm: "be honest"

Bumble: "she says she smelled you coming when you were upwind. rudely."

99% of the time when I'm changing character eye colors, it's to make them NOT blue because there's too many blue-eyed characters in WC imo. BUT.

I think it was another tiny waste to have the narrative constantly stressing Clear Sky's blue, blue eyes, almost like they're hypnotizing, and then they never really comment on what Thunder's eye color signals to other people.

So I've got an idea; instead of amber, Thunder Storm has ELECTRIC BLUE eyes. Almost green, like his mother's minty ones.

Intense as his father's, but more focused. Sharp. Shocking.

Side note: in my research I actually learned it's easier for tripod cats to RUN than it is for them to walk. They can "canter" like a horse, but when they go slow they have to hop. Taking this into consideration.

I put a splash of white on the little bit of lower limb that Thunder Storm has on the leg, so it sticks out a bit more. I don't want it to be hidden I want it to be prominent

I also figured out a hilarious trick for Bright Storm to pull on Sky's Clan at some point lmao

Thunder's crew is in conflict with Sky's cats and the attacks are getting more and more frequent. They decide they need some extra time to carry out some kind of hunt or diplomatic mission, but Bright Storm only has a small group of cats to pull off a stunt with.

She knows she can't fight them head on, but she NEEDS to buy her son more time, so she hatches a plan.

Clear Sky values his intelligence and his ferocity very much. To a fault, even. He loves to outsmart his opponents and overpower them-- so Bright Storm gets all her cats to build a very large, very tall, nearly impenetrable wall out of briar thorns. There's only one way in; the well-guarded tunnel they've constructed in the front.

It would be a challenge for a lesser cat. But Clear Sky, clever devil he is, realizes they've made a fatal flaw; they've built their camp right next to the trees. His fighters don't need to jump over the wall or push through it, the oaks are their allies!

So, while Thunder's cats are all surely sleeping, he gathers his best men and come through the canopy. In well-trained patrols, they swoop down into the camp and prepare for battle.

and no one is there.

You see, there was only one way in... and only one way out.

And Clear Sky and his best fighters watch with HORROR as the tiny crew of guards seals that entrance up like the neck of a bag. There are no trees to climb INSIDE the wall, and it's too tall to hop out of. It won't hold them forever, but it will hold them JUST LONG ENOUGH.

Bright calls this little plan "Operation Timeout."

#I can't help it. Ever since I mentioned how cool a warlord gray wing would be now I can't stop thinking about Bright Storm doing--#Art of War Looney Tunes tactics lmao #LET THE BATTLE CATS BATTLE #BB!DOTC #BB!Bright Storm #BB!Thunder Storm #BB!Thunderstar #Better Bones AU #It feels very fitting for Bright to have a lot of very ''annoying'' but nonlethal plans like that #Though she CAN and WILL hurt others to defend her family #She doesn't LIKE doing that.#One thing I do want her to keep from Gray is his aversion to violence #But unlike him she's able to come to terms with the fact she HAS to defend what she loves.#And though a lot of it does come from the love she had for Clear... it also comes from her compassion and kindness towards others.#She's been lead astray and blinded by her love of him in the past (especially in how she abetted what happened to Bumble)#But unlike Canon!Gray she's ashamed of what she did after she sits with the consequences #She doesn't want to hurt anyone. But she did. She let it happen. Contributed even #And that's rough.#YOUR HONOR. I LIKE HER.

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here-lies-they-ran-outta-luck · 3 months

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Hey!! I saw your post about requests! I was wondering if you could write something about draco falling in love with his childhood best friend? (fem reader please) this could be like a series or just a short story or whatever u want!! thank you :)

Finally (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

warnings- use of y/n, more feminine compliments, kinda sad word count- 983 an- I had something else posted here and then I didn't like it so I deleted it, so sorry. Thank you so much for this request because I had a great time writing this!

You take a deep breath as you walk towards the large doors that lead to the Malfoy’s expansive ballroom for what might be one of the last times.

“You look as beautiful as ever, Y/n. Are you ready?” Narcissa says, putting her arms on your shoulders once you stop walking, she’s been like your second mother for the last 8 years.

“I think I am. Is Draco walking with me?” You ask, turning around to look at the graceful older woman.

“Absolutely you are,” the blonde says, appearing behind his mother, giving you a large minty smile.

“I know I say this every year,” Narcissa says, moving so that you and Draco are standing together, putting her hand on Draco’s cheek, she says “You two would be such an adorable couple!”

“And Each year we tell you you’re crazy,” Draco says softly, taking his moms hand off his cheek.

“You guys know what you're doing, yes?” She questions, looking at us with expecting eyes.

“Yes Mum, we’ve been doing this for as long as we’ve been walking,” he says, flashing her a charming smile. She returns the smile and continues on her way, convinced that we know when to head down the stairs.

“She’s right, you do look beautiful,” Draco says, turning to face you, he pushes a few stray pieces of hair out of your face.

“And you look extremely handsome,” You reply, flashing him a large smile. You two stand arm in arm waiting for the doors to open.

The doors fly open after a few quick seconds, you and Draco start walking down the long flight of stairs, arms staying locked.

“I don’t think I’d be able to walk down the stairs with anyone else,” You joke, looking up at Draco, “I’m too used to how goofy you walk.”

“This could be our last year together and you’re going to bully me?” He says, smirking at your comment.

“What makes you say that? Are you trying to get rid of me?” You say, mocking offense.

“I’m just saying that with how stunning you look, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone came to sweep you off your feet,” He says, his minty breath hitting your face.

“It’s a shame you’re not willing to try to woo me,” You say, only half joking.

“Who says I haven’t been trying to?” He questions, stopping at the bottom of the staircase, looking at you with adoration in his eyes.

“Is that so?” You say with a smirk, challenging him. He only answers with a shrug, pulling you towards your group of friends, leaving you with them while he grabs the two of you something to drink.

“Are you two finally together then?” Theodore questions, taking a bite out of a small slice of chocolate cake.

“Oh come on, did he pay you to say that?” You say with a large smile, taking a finger full of frosting from the boy's plate.

“Nope, just waiting for the day that I get to win the bet,” He says with a smug smirk, pulling his cake further away from you.

“What is it? A bet that two childhood best friends will get together? Do you guys have one between me and Matty too?” You snort, crossing your arms.

“Nope, I only make bets that people with sexual tension are going to get together,” He replies with a shit eating smirk.

“Theodore! There is no sexual tension!” You say, swatting his arm with your hand bag, “He wouldn’t feel the same way about me anyway, he's just a flirt.”

“No no, I am just a flirt, he is smitten,” The brunette says flashing you a goofy grin.

“You are the dumbest person I have ever met,” You say, turning away from him, taking a drink from Draco who just arrived.

Eventually the two of you wonder off, talking to different people, taking pictures for when your parents ask for it. At some point you find yourself out on the balcony, Draco nowhere to be seen.

Embracing the chill of the lonely night you sit on the small metal bench you’ve spent time growing to love. You’re staring off into space, letting your thoughts take over when you hear quiet footsteps then soon after feel the presence of the blonde boy next to you.

“Hello Dray,” You say, sitting up, looking at the stunning boy.

“Hello love. Are you feeling okay?” He asks, turning towards you.

“I think I am now that you’re here,” You say, bumping your shoulders together, “Things are always better when you’re with me.”

“Don’t do that, Y/n,” He says, abruptly standing up.

“What do you mean, Dray?” You ask, his sudden movement making your chest ache ever so slightly.

“I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to just be your friend, I don’t want to watch you walk with someone else at my family balls, and I don’t want to pretend that I’m not absolutely in love with you,” He says, letting out a loud huff.

“What?” You say quietly, looking up at the boy.

“Don’t act stupid, Y/n. I have been so in love with you for as long as I can remember. And I need to tell you now before it really is too late,” He says, his eyes glossing over.

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, I have been in love with you since we were 7 years old,” You say, standing up, wrapping your arms around the boy's neck.

“Do you promise?” He says, tears brimming his eyes ready to fall.

“I promise,” You reply, standing on your tiptoes to give the boy a kiss on the lips, pulling away you lay your head on his chest, moving your arms down to the middle of his back so you can squeeze him in a tight hug.

“Mattheo, you owe me 17 sickles!” You faintly hear Theodore yell.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy series #draco malfoy fanfiction #request

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pineabble-soda · 3 months

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different designs from different cool artists cuz I’m bored and I need more Lust content

Adorable first design from @mrd0ll

Special agency Lust @kuriliancharlie

meltdown Lust @minty-frost

Lusttale Lust @morguemaw

#lusttale #underlust #meltdown!lust #undertale #ut au #my art

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marleysfinest · 1 year

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reiner x reader, post-war smut drabble. cw injury, bleeding

big up wife @pisspope for the inspo for this one u the mvp

there was something about the winter months. something about the way the frost clung to the frozen leaves, how the morning air was so deadly silent, the sounds of nature blanketed and muffled by thick mist clouding the way. the way that life seemed to all but stop, as the insects and birds fell silent as they hid from the chill of the air, hoping to survive until the thaw of spring.

you stand against the frozen pillar of the porch, cloak wrapped tightly around your shoulders as you cradle your piping mug of tea to your chest. the steam that billows out is thick and milky white as it hits the freezing air, but you welcome the way it's warming you until it cools enough to drink. you stare out at the sprawling meadow, coated in frost and leaving just the slightest hint of minty-green of the grass beneath. the sun is rising slowly above the horizon, and soon the frost will melt.

it's been six months since the history-altering march of the titans and, while life is beginning to resume slowly, you can still make out the slightest outlines of footprints across the meadow, the tracks having moulded the earth forever. you come out here in the mornings to breathe in new life, but as much as you welcome living another day, this reminder will always be here to greet you. as you lose yourself yet again in a daydream of the past six months, you almost don't hear the door behind you open. before you can turn to take a look at him, reiner wraps you in his arms and another cloak for good measure.

"morning," he mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep. his arms wrap around your waist and he rests his chin on your shoulder, his sudden presence bathing you in heat. you mutter a 'good morning' in return, and rest your head against his.

"I don't like waking up to an empty bed. it's freezing, why don't you come inside?" he asks. you realise that you perhaps should, although that would mean moving from this embrace.

"I'm warm," you reply, "as long as you stay here I'll be just fine."

he huffs a laugh, sending warm air across your collarbone.

"well, I don't have a shirt on, and you are going to catch your death in that nightdress. c'mon."

he loosens his grip and moves to grab a fistful of your nightdress, gently tugging you back inside. despite knowing you should get out of the cold, something about the vista in front of you is begging you to stay and finish your drink, and so you resist his pleas at first.

"let me drink my tea, rei," you insist, knowing your refusal will be driving him mad. he channels so much of himself into making sure you're alright; he'd hate the thought of you being in the cold without him. you already know he's pouting before you turn to look at him. his eyes flicker to the steaming drink, meaning that if not for the risk of scalding you, he'd have scooped you off your feet by now. he looks defeatedly at the tea in your hands and sighs before moving in close to you. you look up to him, wide-eyed, and drink in his appearance. his eyes are still a little hooded, weighed down by sleep, and his golden hair is in disarray after another restless night. despite his dishevelled appearance, he has never looked better. with all the care in the world, he brings himself close to you, and it's then you feel him pressed up against your hip.

"the bed was empty when I woke up," he utters, "you know what kind of torture that is? to roll over and not have you right there?"

you smile, and blow on your drink.

"sorry," you say sweetly, "I guess I just wanted to see what lengths you'd go to to find me."

he sighs again, this time throwing in the gentlest hint of a growl with it, before leaning down to plant a kiss on your lips. it's firm and intense, and although the tea is warm and sweet, who are you to deny him?

"leave that out here, it'll cool down soon enough," he whispers, knowing you can't resist him when he asks, "I won't keep you long."

you sigh, trying to appear inconvenienced, but you follow him in a heartbeat. he leads you across the threshold and immediately the air is warmer; the fire hasn’t been going for long, but it’s already enveloped the room like a warm hug. he doesn’t give you long to appreciate the more comfortable temperature; before you have much of a chance to shrug off your shawl, reiner is on you, gently sliding the woollen knit from your shoulders and slipping his hands beneath your nightdress. his hands are delightfully warm, and already you can feel the heat beating from his chest. as he pulls you close to him, waist to waist and chest to chest, he swoops down to plant another kiss on your lips, but this one is far more passionate, far more meaningful. he lets one hand remain on the small of your back while the other repositions itself to the back of your head, holding you firmly against him.

he wastes no time in removing your nightdress completely, and in almost the same swift movement, his pyjama trousers have been recklessly discarded, almost landing in the fireplace. his breath is heavy, almost frantic, matching his movements which are bordering on hasty.

“rei - ” you breathe as he lays you on the couch in front of the fire, hoping that he’d pick up on the suggestion to slow down. while his enthusiasm was most welcome, it wasn’t exactly the norm for him, and you’d rather be assured that he’s alright rather than let him maintain this pace in any discomfort. he positions himself on top of you, firmly between your legs, and for a second you swear you can feel his heart beating against your chest.

“what?” he asks between kisses. he pushes himself hard against your heat, desperate to get right down to it, you can tell.

“slow down,” you whisper with a smile, “you don’t have to hurry.”

“yes, I do,” he replies instantly, hooking your leg over his shoulder, “I need you now.”

there was no need to question it. it was clear in his voice; if you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought he was a man possessed. but there was something about his tone that, while urgent and ragged, showcased his ecstasy and his joy, two emotions decidedly not often attributed to reiner braun, and it’s because of this that you decide not to push the matter any further, and let him do things the way he wanted.

he takes a second to adjust himself before entering you roughly, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips that seems to spur him on. he’s so hard and so worked up that it’s almost concerning, but you’re in no position to care. he ruts into you with fervour and force, hitting that sweet spot again and again, mercilessly with no room for relief. he buries himself into your neck, kissing and sucking away, and in an attempt to both ground yourself and feel him deeper, you dig your nails into his shoulders, not realising the force with which you’re doing it. he lifts his head to look at you, really look at you as your foreheads rest together and you both feel your releases brewing. he grips you by the jaw as you come together, pulsing in ecstasy on the couch and, despite the freezing temperatures outside, feeling your sweat mix with his. he brushes a bead of sweat from your brow as time seems to stand still, this moment of contentment and pleasure on pause for as long as you wanted. until, that is, you see the red claw marks on his shoulders.

“rei!” you exclaim quietly, feeling embarrassed and guilty, “rei, you’re bleeding.”

the spell that he’s under is broken, and he’s craning his head to look for the source of your concern. he sees the claw marks and tiny beads of blood, but isn’t concerned or angry. in fact, there’s something else, something beyond, as he sits up to examine it closer. you start to feel worried that you’ve overstepped a boundary, especially when you see his eyes begin to well up. your eyes widen in horror.

“no, baby, don’t cry!” you squeal, “I’m so sorry!”

it stuns you when he smiles as the tears tumble across his cheek. he taps at the scratches so that his fingertips are tinted red, and swallows heavily.

“I haven’t bled in years,” he says, his voice breaking. despite your disbelief and horror, you realise that he looks happy. he looks euphoric. “I can feel it. I can still see it.”

you feel tears of your own begin to well as you realise the cause of his emotion; finally being able to have something to show for his injuries, something decidedly more human than he was used to. he looks at you with a warm grin.

“do it again.”

#this is very not proofread #but it was fun!!!!#i fell in love with the idea of him enjoying not steaming up or healing right away as soon as Beloved said it #and so #this was born #reiner braun #reiner x reader #reiner x yn #reiner smut #attack on titan #aot #aot smut #shingeki no kyojin

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zhongrin · 4 months

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𒆙 ღ

part 8/8 of ⎡∞ / 𝟔 𝟎 𝟎 𝟎 ⁺⎦, a zhongli 2023 birthday event

𖧷 tags ┈ selfship (zhongrin, small hint of zhongwrinth), 3rd person pov from zhongli's side, fluff, bittersweet (like almost all the other chapters are lol), slight soft yandere-ish, slight genshin's canon lore references

𖧷 a/n ┈ happy new year my dear patrons! starting off this year strong with some super indulgent selfship piece :> technically, it can be read as x fem!reader, but you'll find that it was not meant to be one. you'll find a lot of hidden selfship lores in this, and it's very very very self-indulgent and personal (which is why i don't have the usual x reader tags), so keep that in mind and be respectful, please 🙏🏻 you have been warned!

𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓊 ❬ masterlist ❭ 𐫱 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 ❬ taglist ❭

𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 was an intricacy he had been continuously studying over the course of more than six thousand years and counting now.

and still, with every year that passed, he realized there were many sides of love he had not discovered nor experienced himself. things like—

how the peals of someone’s laughter could be comparable to the most melodious bird’s singing, and in its contraposition, how the saddened frown from a beloved person when he forgot an important date due to the many anniversaries which had accumulated over the past few millennia, could cut deeper than the sharpest blades forged by the most proficient masters of the blacksmiths.

how, despite the many losses and reunions he had experienced, he would still have the same nightmare that had been regularly plaguing him from a few millennia back: the vision of her bloodied shell, the rage bubbling from the deepest of his heart. how the mountains tore and the seabed shifted, the anguish as cold as the lifeless body within his hold and as silent as her unmoving crimson-stained lips, the pain hundredfold as he buried her with his own hands in some desolate place ridden by war and placed a single yellow hibiscus as a meagre offering.

how the scent of the sea used to be relatively bearable despite the reflexive scrunch of his nose, and even so, he found himself increasingly becoming averse to them - especially when the scent paired with the minty frost of snezhnaya or the chalky, wintery air of dragonspine.

how, those old times ago, his closest friends had betted on the day he would use his proficiency and skills in the advanced adepti arts to do menial tasks out of love, and though at that time, morax had scoffed and laughed right in front of their face... look at him now, gladly using the ability to maintain adeptal realms to expand his beloved’s teashop or facilitate her travels between the nations of teyvat.

𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒… such an infinitely complex and neverending, yet beautiful affair.

“happy birthday, rex lapis.”

“happy birthday, morax.”

“happy birthday, zhongli.”

“happy birthday, xiànɡ ɡonɡ!”

love tasted like a sweet kiss with a touch of fragrant osmanthus and the bitterness of coffee. love took the form of a bashful and imperfect smile in full bloom against rosy cheeks. love was the way her silken hair felt against his calloused fingers as he tied his treasured golden hair clip around the midnight-colored strands, following her 'coincidental' oversight to bring her own. love was heard in fond wishes and silent gratitudes whispered into the seas of stars, amongst the soft rolls of waves caressing the shores of the harbor of their retirement home.

perhaps his darling won’t be by his side next year. perhaps she would, in a different form than what she was now. perhaps…. he would not survive this year.

but what did it matter?

for even as calamity befell aria, sonnet, and canon, the corpse of a moon still continued its sovereignty in a fixed orbit to encircle teyvat, unchanging — and so he believed the two lovers’ fates would intertwine once again; for she was destined to be his, for he oathed to be bound to her beyond a mortal expiry;

until their souls reunited in a place not even the heavenly principles could reach,

until no more engraved rings could fit in her fingers,

until teyvat's bedrock crumbled into dust.

“the day the rite of parting is recompensed, wife of mine… i promise our 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 will be sealed eternal.”

a contract sealed in souls, befitting of his goetic namesake. this might as well be the most selfish contract he has ever sealed with his blood — yet could one still call him a devil when his victim was most willing?

#genshin impact #zhongli #yandere #rin selfships #zhongrin #zhongwrinth #rin writes #∞ / 𝟔 𝟎 𝟎 𝟎 ⁺

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reodashi · 8 months

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BNHA Smells

M.list

...

Deku - Smells like Spreamint and Lime, it's not strong... But subtle freshness.

Bakugo - He's evil... Unintentionally. He Smells so good, like cinnomin rolls and cookies, but he hates when people get too close.

Todoroki - Subtle lavender from his clothes, and subtle vanilla from his shampoo.

Kirishima - Axe... I love him... But it's axe body spray 100%

Iida - Fresh books, pencils, and oddly cranberries... No one asks why though.

Denki - Probably the second best smelling guy in 1-A, Smells like pumpkin spice and Apple cider... He's aware of it too.

Sero - Very subtle Smells, not strong at all... But vague fresh bread scent.

Uraraka - You know she smells good, she smells like berries, frosting, and candy.

Asui - Grass... It's not bad though. She just smells like fresh cut grass.

Momo - Fancy ass perfume, costed her like 200 bucks just to smell vaguely like vanilla and cocoa powder.

Jiro - I mean this in the best possible way, but basement... Not grungy or gross, but just that nice rustic smell basements give.

Tokoyami - He got a candle named 'Death' which smells of blackberries and coconut. He's emo and berrylicious.

Shoji - Bamboo, Campfires, and Rain... All depending on the day.

Ojiro - Freshly vacuumed carpet, and if he's felling fancy he uses citrus body wash.

Hagakure - Fruity cereals, strawberry milk, and occasionally hazelnuts.

Aoyama - Everyone say it with me! 👏 Jasmine👏 Starbucks👏 and cake batter👏

Sato - Duh, flour, cake, fresh pastries, and Gingerbread.

Koda - This one is hard... He either smells like a summer garden or farm hay...

Mineta - B.O. which he says is his natural musk. And sometimes tries to hide it with axe.

Aizawa - Apple pie, fireplaces, and fresh blankets. He Smells cozy.

Allmight - He Smells like pubs... Even though he doesn't got there often... He also smells a bit like blood.

Endeavor - He Smells like charcoal, gasoline, and arrogance. He Smells like he tries to hard, which is ironic since he didn't even try hard to become #1 hero since it was just handed to him after Allmight. 👀 And never tried hard to be a good dad👀

Present Mic - He Smells like fresh technology, you know when you unbox a phone and it smells similar to a fresh phone... It's like that.

Miss Midnight - She smells like Jasmine, aphrodiacs, and rose petals... Very flirty scents.

Nezu - Hamster food and coffee... I said what needed to be said.

Eri - She smells like candy stores, carnival sweets, and fresh plushies.

Hawks - He's a mix... His breath is minty fresh, his hair smells like masculine cologne, but his clothes smell like leather even though they aren't made from leather.

Mirko - *the lingering affection from simps* Jk... Sort of. She smells like protein shakes, new shoes, and carrot cake.

Shinso - Tea, coffee, energy drinks... Anything he consumes that helps him stay awake really...

Shigiraki - I know he smells dusty, he smells like mothballs, alleyways, and Walmart 100%

Toga - She smells like blood, I mean it's inevitable due to her quirk. Other than blood, she smells like cheap makeup, like the really chemically smelling stuff.

Dabi - *Daddy issues and burnt* He smells like hot summer days, peanut butter, and bleach due to his hair dye.

Twice - Beer, cigetettes, fresh pavement, and depression.

Overhaul - He smells fine, he smells like chalk and tree bark... But his mask smells NASTY, the bitch never cleans it.

...

#bnha #bnha denki #bnha fluff #bnha headcanons #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bnha smut #anime #anime and manga #bnha smau #bnha fic #bnha headcannons #bnha hcs #bnha hawks #bnha memes #my hero academia #mha

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through-frost-and-flames · 21 days

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Current ages!

Froststar - 139 Moons Old (DAMN)

Rainshade - 77 Moons Old

Wolfeyes - 77 Moons Old

Foresttrail - 61 Moons Old

Paleghost - 47 Moons Old

Beetlebud - 16 Moons Old

Havendawn - 13 Moons Old

Lightpaw - 12 Moons Old

Outside the Clan:

Ice - 113 Moons Old

Minty - idk specifics she's around Ice's age

Hail - 15 Moons Old

Snow - 15 Moons Old

Frost - 15 Moons Old

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montrealmadison · 2 months

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I'd love to read a happy snuggly fic about Bitty & Jack.

Number #15 (for Bitty 😉)

thank you for this delightful prompt! whenever i get stuck on where to start with jack and bitty, i always revert to them snuggling. this was a really nice excuse to polish a scene that i've had kicking around my WIP folder forever. hope it's okay that the boys took it in a, shall we say, steamy direction. ❤️

15. zimbits + happy snuggly vibes + I Love You Always Forever by Betty Who for @jadedmandarin81

You’ve got the most unbelievable blue eyes I’ve ever seen You’ve got me almost melting away

Hot morning sun on his shoulders, a big, hot hand on the small of his back, and Bitty has no clue where he is.

He blinks, and—right. His childhood bedroom, sometime after sunrise: lemon-yellow walls, a mess of posters, crisp white curtains hanging limp from the humidity. It can’t be very late, because Coach’s morning shower isn’t whining through the walls yet. July fifth dawns the same every blessed year: Mama having a lie-in, Coach firing up the truck, long lazy days of few words and a blue sky and a beer that Bitty's too young to be drinking. Lord, what he wouldn’t give to be fifteen and at the lake right now, cold water closing over his head.

He brings himself slowly back to earth by wishing really hard that the Olympic-sized rink behind Michelle Kwan’s paper smile would just sort of… replace the air conditioner they haven’t been able to afford to fix for years. As it stands, he’s fucking hot.

Jack, for all that he’s peaceful in sleep, is not helping. Bitty’s cheek is stuck to his bare chest, his massive thighs are trapping Bitty’s calves, and every inch of bare skin in between is tacky and gross. The Jack of his dreams is so tangled up with the call of the ice that he feels like he should be cold by default. Jack should be white and gray and blue; frosted winter mornings, distant sun, minty breath. The Jack of reality is—well, he’s beautiful, dark sweeping lashes and all that, but he’s just as sweaty as Bitty is and his breath definitely does not smell like mint.

Bitty doesn’t mind.

read more below or on ao3 | request a fic here

He’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop. From the moment they’d locked eyes at baggage claim, this weekend has been the weirdest song and dance: Bitty letting Jack into his life inch by inch, arranging the pieces of his soul for approval. Here’s where I went to high school. Here’s our family dinner table. Here’s my truck bed. Let’s make out. In return, apparently, he gets to have this now: his college hockey captain, on his back in Bitty’s bed, breathing slow and deep and measured with his hand skimming Bitty’s ass.

That’s my best friend. The thought makes Bitty feel floaty and weird. He knows Jack’s gym schedule and the slant of his real smile and what he eats for breakfast, but he’s only seen him sleep once: the morning of graduation, when they’d climbed up to the roof of Faber and Bitty had woken up on Jack’s shoulder, in the folds of a jacket that smelled like him.

He hadn’t let himself believe, even then, that they might be more. After all, the thing about Jack is that sooner or later he’s always stopped being Jack and turned back into Jack Zimmermann, a living legend in the shape of a teammate. Bitty had pretended it was easy, once, not to lean into the intimacy of knowing just a little more than everyone else. It feels new and exhilarating and dangerous for him to get to see Jack like this now, all pretenses abandoned, one of his wildest fantasies come to life.

Jack chooses that moment to stir, like he can hear Bitty’s thoughts shouting his name. Bitty feels the flush rising in his cheeks, embarrassed that Jack’s caught him staring—but Jack doesn’t seem to mind, just lets out a long satisfied breath through his nose and murmurs, morning-low, “Bittle.”

Lord, but that makes something pop in Bitty’s gut and then fizzle into butterflies. Before last night he’d never even really been kissed before, and now—and now. His senses are overloaded, filled with the flash-fire knowledge that at long last someone else wants this as badly as he does.

“Jack,” he says, sure that his morning voice must sound squeaky and childish in comparison.

But Jack’s eyes on his face are sleepy dark blue, weighty with something that looks a hell of a lot like approval. Bitty follows the slow roll of Jack’s Adam’s apple so he won’t do something really embarrassing, like explode and die.

“Bitty,” Jack sighs again. Jesus Christ. There go Bitty’s chances of getting out of this bed alive. “‘S’hot.”

“Yes,” Bitty grumps, but neither of them make a move to separate. That self-satisfied thing flashes through him again. Jack is, apparently, so into this, into him; the bruises to prove it are probably already darkening low on his belly and hips. Being watched this way makes Bitty feel slightly insane, drunk with power.

“I like this,” Jack says. His voice rumbles, far-off thunder. Bitty thinks about flash floods, dams breaking, the crackshot sound of shattering ice.

“What?”

“Waking up with you.”

There’s the sincerity that’s been driving Bitty wild all weekend. He’s long since mastered the art of lying smoothly through his teeth, but Jack’s graceless honesty punches holes through every pretense he can muster. It’s how Jack got him on his back in the truck bed last night, why they apparently can’t stop talking unless they find other ways to occupy their mouths. Just like that, Bitty's cheeks are in full flame.

“Me too,” he says, too quickly. Jack doesn’t seem to notice. His arms are huge, and Bitty is welcome in them. He feels positively unhinged. He has zero desire to move.

“Do we have to get up?”

“Probably,” Bitty groans, seizing the change of topic with both hands. He thunks his forehead into Jack’s shoulder for emphasis. “Coach’ll be up soon.”

“‘Kay,” says Jack, not moving one blessed inch.

Bitty squirms a little, thrilled. They keep ending up on the same page, wanting the same things. Feeling bold, Bitty mouths over the hot expanse of skin between Jack's shoulder and his neck, loving the way Jack immediately makes that pleased sound deep in his throat.

"Sorry."

“For—ah."

Jack honest-to-god moans when Bitty reaches the spot beneath his ear, and that's it: Bitty's deceased. He's gone. He's gonna die right here in his childhood bedroom, and he'll be damn well pleased about it. "Don't be—sorry for what?”

“That it’s not private,” Bitty murmurs. He waves his free hand toward the door, beyond which his parents hopefully believe that Bitty and his good friend Jack are passed out in separate rooms after the (completely tame, very platonic) excitement of last night's festivities. It seems like a tall order even in his head. He's gonna have to spend the next month before he goes back to school being very careful about the thoughts he lets show on his face.

When Bitty flexes his toes against Jack's bare leg under the sheets to prompt an answer, Jack hums a little, turns and drags his nose lightly across Bitty's forehead. "Don’t be sorry,” he says. “Actually, I was thinking about that last night."

"You were? Huh," Bitty says. "Sounds like I didn't do a very good job, then."

Jack gives him a gentle, one-handed shove. "After... uh, well. After that." He blushes so pretty, right over his nose and hot up his cheeks. Bitty kind of wants to eat him whole. "What would you say about coming to visit me?"

Forget what he’d say; Bitty can barely even think about it without going insane. Just the two of them, alone, four soundproof walls and a chance to figure this out for real. "In Providence?"

"Yes,” Jack says. “And we can do, um. More. Of what we did last night.”

Bitty is acutely aware of Jack’s hand, which is now rubbing little circles into his back, and all the other places it was last night, and how much he’d like for it to be in those places again.

“Yes, okay,” he says, too quickly to be polite; Jack is grinning, though, so. Right answer.

"Deal."

Bitty smiles back, megawatt. "Deal."

"First I have to make it home, though," Jack says. "Got a whole kitchen to get ready for you, eh?"

He says get ready like it has multiple meanings, and Bitty gets to pick the one he wants. Despite the heat, he finds himself shivering in anticipation.

"Sounds amazing," Bitty says, definitely not just talking about the kitchen. He shoves Jack back, teasing. This is his best friend and so much more. "Then you better get packin', mister, you got a flight to catch."

When the alarm clock goes off down the hall, Jack rolls out of bed and goes for his bag, sleepy chirps in full effect. Bitty stays put, though, watching. The sun catches just right on the hard planes of Jack’s shoulders, melting winter into spring, and Bitty is okay with losing control.

#omgcp #omgcheckplease #eric bittle #jack zimmermann #zimbits #my writing #efickegster 2024 #thank you thank you this was so much fun ❤️ i hope you enjoy!

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pnkq · 6 months

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I am so proud of this so get fucking tagged

@sonicphobia0601 @just-a-queer-fanboy @fantasticcollectorkitten @xxstarryrosesxx @3clipse-eats-deodorant @minty-cheese @skittlechild @indecisivebitch3000 @jaligachagirl12 @katjustvibinglmao @tomatopiehater @vexarii @call-me-frosting-or-not-idc @sharp-hamburguer @lunatheartist22446 @a-random-mooshroom @cloudxxiii @a-trash-panda-eating-your-trash @t-is-tobi @icancritanything @moonsfavoriteson @EVERYONE

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ilyuu · 11 months

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warnings : hurt/comfort, fluff, lots and lots of longing, use of childe’s real name, childe is childe (explodes), lmk if i missed anything! just him coming back home,,,

happy birthday aki!! and now, a little present for you <33

close. you’re close.

a flurry of snow fell from the skies, and the snowflakes, each a trait to their name, melted the moment it touched the palm of your hand - rather, the mitten. you splay your fingers to the air, letting the wind, so still, as of now, nip at it. still, you could feel it, the icy droplets, trickle into the threads. everything is a canvas, a frame, enveloped in a glaze of pure, sparkling snow.

a place you (and him) call home.

each step that you take, a faint footfall, accompanied with a crunch, seems to break the quiet, the stillness of life, hidden away in the crevices of warmth, of safety. each breath you draw in, a minty, airy feeling mixes in. and every one you let out, the puff of breath crystallizes into mist.

you’re almost there.

you nestle yourself further into the scarf, a burning fire, almost, against the landscape. a rich red, swathing you, as a silent shield and, as you like to think, a pair of arms burrowing you from behind - it’s a bit of a dream, you’ll admit, since the last time you’ve felt that same comfort has been months.

his touch faint, almost phantom as the loose threads of the fabric grazes your skin with every shift of movement. and it always comes as a reminder, as bittersweet, as taut at it makes your chest. that enough made you yearn for him again. it never did take much from him for you to fall back into his arms whenever possible, with the little time that you had him to yourself at least.

maybe a bit selfish, as the memories of few and fewer moments you shared with him drizzled in.

his voice, his scent, his touch - you didn’t want it to be true, but you could barely remember any of it. the one thing that you do is his handwriting, and even then it comes so seldomly. those nights you run your fingertips on each letter, each word, hanging onto them like a last string, a line.

but maybe it wasn’t.

you hold a handful of the cloth in the palm of your hand, as if to hold onto the remnants.

“don’t go ahead and forget about me too much,” he said, a lilt to his voice that you’d loved (and love.) his hands slipped the scarf around you, a loose loop. “keep this for me until i come back, got that?”

“aye aye, captain.” he pouts. “…i’ll keep myself safe, ajax. don’t worry.”

“that’s better.” he presses his forehead against yours, and the two of you share the small space for those few seconds. when he says something, there’s a soft stroke to his words. “i’ll be back. i don’t know when and i can’t promise that, ”

“you sure?”

“what, wanna make a pinkie promise on it?”

you tug on the edge of the scarf. it’s almost as if it’s a piece, an extension of him in some sort of way. “this is enough of a promise for me.”

“you’re so cheesy it’s cute.”

“shut up.”

“well, since you insist….”

“not now!”

a promise that he’ll come back. and a promise that you’ll wait with open arms, welcome him back, and bring him back into what he’d always called home. no matter how long it took, no matter what time did to either of you two.

(you remember the look on his face as you said it that one time. it was almost— no, it was indescribable. it was nothing yet everything at the same time, too much all at one fleeting across his features in a matter of seconds. other than that, you don’t know what he was feeling, thinking - not even a letter or a word of a thought as he kept you in his arms, his hands clutching onto anything at all, and all with a shiver in his skin.)

(if there was one word you’d use to describe him that day, wherein the winds howled, bitter bites of frost on the panes of windows - the world has grown cold and cruel - it’d be desperate.)

you’re here.

the trees, thin, lofty barks and branches crooked part to an endless sea, its waters stifled, yet still moving. each step you take, this time, invites you in close and closer with its creaks. crates, barrels, and loops of rope litters the piers, but it’s all part of the backdrop as salty wisps of steam soon flowed in, a small boat decks at the docks. it whistled, and someone took a step onto the pier, the boards creaking underneath their weight as yours.

you didn’t even need to take another step to know who. and, like so many times before that, and many more to come after, you open your arms - wide, as if to - and said, “welcome home, ajax.”

he didn’t hesitate falling in, his own arms wrapping around your waist, and you’re swathed in the familiar warmth and comfort that is childe, that is ajax.

he breathes you in, and lets it all out - a sigh that is filled with relief and content all together, to the brim. the curls of his hair tickles cheek, and you couldn’t bite back the smile that lifted the corners of your lips. he feels it against his skin, and the smile he soon wears is infectious.

“oh, this feels nice.”

“you say that every single time.”

“because it is every single time.”

“you’re so cheesy.”

“damn, the tables have turned, haven’t they?” a pause. his voice drops to a whisper, brittle; it sounds like a shell of himself. “…missed you. so much. a lot.”

you tighten your arms around him. everything - his touch, his voice, his scent, his everything - floods back to you. it’s bittersweet thinking that he’ll leave again soon, too soon for your liking, but you shove those thoughts to the margins of your mind.

just enjoy this bit at least, you told yourself. and you did. “i missed you too. more than you’d know.”

another pause. “…is that a contest?”

“ajax!”

(if you’d use another word, it’d be relief.)

general taglist (open!) : @/zuyoo, @starz222, @haliyamori, @kazumist, @/tartaglia-apologist, @mikacynth, @angelkazusstuff, @doumalove, @kpop-and-otome, @emo-mess, @kissedbysilk . . .

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles #childe x reader #childe x you

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whore4hockeymen · 1 year

Text

Cupcakes

~Jack Hughes~

the loml 😍

TW: a little swearing, kinda heated towards the end

Word Count: 1239

It was July 7, and you were in the kitchen with Jack making cupcakes for his mother’s birthday which was the next day. You had known the Hughes’ family since you were little, so Ellen was pretty much your second mother. Jack and his brothers had come down to Michigan to celebrate their mom’s birthday, and you had roped Jack to come to your little apartment for some baking.

“Do you have eggs?�� Jack asked, peeking into your fridge. You stood at the counter in front of the laid out ingredients, “Of course I have eggs,” you replied.

Jack hummed, “Really? ‘Cuz I’m not seeing anything particularly egg looking in here.” You scoffed and walked over, nudging him out of the way and looking into my fridge, which did not have a lot of contents.

“Dammit, did I really forget eggs?” you complained, shutting the fridge, “It’s fine, I’ll just go ask the neighbors for some.”

Jack snickered, “Unprepared, as usual.” You smacked him in the shoulder and walked out of the door. The old lady next door kindly gave you two eggs and you went back to your apartment.

You were greeted with the sight of Jack wearing your frilly pink apron you got as a joke a while ago, inscripted on it in cursive as ‘World’s Sexiest Baker’. You stifled a laugh and Jack turned around with a smile, “You like?” he asked, twirling it around.

“It looks better on you than it does on me,” you replied, setting the eggs onto the counter. “Alright do you want to get started on the cupcake part and I can do the frosting?”

Jack nodded and peered at the recipe you printed out on a piece of paper. You settled yourself on the other section of the counter and started to mix together the ingredients to the frosting recipe that you knew by heart. It was a comfortable silence as the two of you worked, the occasional sentence exchanged here and there. Soon enough, the cupcakes were in the oven and the frosting was in the fridge.

You dusted off your hands and turned around to face Jack, “Want to watch a movie while we wait?” you asked.

However, Jack didn’t respond, he was staring at something on your face with a lopsided smile, “You’ve got some frosting on your cheek.” You rolled your eyes and swiped your hand against your cheek, but nothing came off. “No, not that one, here.”

Your eyes widened slightly as he stepped closer, you could smell his minty breath from the gum he chewed a while ago. Your heart started to beat faster, is it too late to mention that you were madly in love with your best friend? It felt like time slowed as he reached his hand out and swiped a thumb across your cheek. Frosting was on his finger that he drew away, but he didn’t stop there. It was like you were in a trance as you watched him then pop his finger into his mouth, tasting the frosting. You were definitely blushing.

“That was pretty good,” he said with a smile, still very close to you. You both stared at each other for a moment, a weird tension starting to fill the air. You broke it by turning around, “Of course it is, I made it.”

Jack laughed and you made your way to the couch, trying to will the redness away from your cheeks. Sitting on the couch, you put on a random movie, but you couldn’t pay attention to what was going on. The scene kept replaying in your mind over and over, it also didn’t help that Jack had an arm lazily draped behind you on the couch.

A few hours later, the cupcakes were out of the oven and cooled. The two of you stood in front of the multitude of dessert that was on the counter, piping bags filled with frosting in hand, “Ok so watch what I do,” you said, turning your focus to frosting a cupcake, creating a perfect spiral.

Jack attempted to copy you, but it didn’t work out very well, “I suck ass at this.” You laughed, “You’ll get a hang of it.”

As you two both kept frosting cupcakes, Jack slowly started to improve and you fell into a nice rhythm. That is, until you heard Jack groan, you looked over to see frosting covering his hand, “Goddammit.”

You laughed, “How did you manage to do that?” He shrugged and looked around for something to wipe his hand off, unfortunately there were no rags in sight.

“Guess I’ll just have to use something else,” he said and turned to you with a smirk. Your eyes widened as he lunged towards you, wiping the frosting on his hand all over your face. You gasped as he stood there triumphantly.

“You are going to pay for that,” you said, picking up a cupcake and smushing it into his face, the remains falling onto the ground. He laughed in disbelief, “Oh it is on.”

You shrieked as he grabbed another handful of frosting, but you were ready and dodged his hand, running away. He chased you around the counter and into the dining room, you tried to use the chairs to block his path but it was no use. You skidded down the hall, running to the bathroom with the idea to lock yourself inside. However, you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist and drag you back. You screamed as Jack used his other hand to spread the frosting on your face, even in your hair.

He eventually let you go and you turned around to face him, taking in the sight of cupcakes and frosting all over him. You both broke into a fit of laughter, you had to lean into his shoulder and clutch your stomach, you were laughing so hard. Soon though, the laughter died down and something else replaced the air. You looked up at him, he stared at you with an intense look in his eyes. His Adam’s apple bobbed and you watched as he licked his bottom lip.

You couldn’t breathe as he took a hand and placed it under your chin, tilting your face up. Your heart was beating so loud, you were sure that he could hear it. He got closer to your face, your lips barely brushing against each other. You couldn’t take it anymore, you closed the distance, fully pressing your lips to his. He immediately wrapped a hand around your waist and drew you close, your own hands wrapping around his neck. He tasted like the vanilla frosting you made and you assumed you tasted the same. The kiss was soft at first, but it soon got more and more deep. You nipped at his bottom lip and he groaned, tightening his hold on you. He suddenly drew away, but his attack didn’t stop. His lips traveled down your jaw and your neck. You shivered as he licked some frosting that was on your neck.

“Jack,” you whispered breathlessly. He made his way back up to your lips and pressed a softer kiss to them. He smiled and rested his head against your forehead, absentmindedly drawing shapes on your hip.

“Yeah those cupcakes do taste pretty good,” he said, licking his lips. You rolled your eyes and drew him back in for another kiss.

You couldn’t agree more.

#jack hughes #hockey fluff #hockey players #jack hughes x reader #baking

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mrraapeti · 10 months

Text

Rift Universe Fruits

1. Chabba Fruit- Sun shaped sour fruit used for lemonade equivalents. The swirl on the front tastes like cinnamon and is used as a baking ingredient.

2. Disapear Fruit- A fruit that tastes like a cross between an apple and a pear. It disappears when it feels threatened.

3. Gem Fruit- A fruit with delicious flesh that can be eaten without peeling. Seeds are poisonous.

4. Pie-Pie Fruit- Poisonous and bitter tasting medicinal fruit. Once refined it can be used to ease indigestion.

5. Frostdrop Fruit- Fruit that can only be eaten when frozen, lest it melt and become a horrid gooey texture.

6. Grabba Fruit- Used in stews, a hearty ingredient. Hallow center, thick but sharp outer spines.

7. Cabso Fruit- A fishy smelling fruit with a sweet cherry flavored center. The flesh around the center is inedible.

8. Tabua Fruit- Fruit that tastes awful in its base state. The unpleasant inside is dried and refined into a dust which is used as a spice.

9. Soogar Fruit- Fruit just filled with a sweet syrup. Is refined into sugar.

10. Myo Fruit- A fruit that has the consistency and taste of raw mammal meat. Must be cooked to achieve peak flavor.

11. Angel Fruit- A juicy and minty fruit that grows where it snows. Can be eaten raw or put in a salad.

12. Foya Fruit- A fruit as juicy as an orange and as spicy as a chili pepper. Great ingredient in hotsauce.

13. Olda Dona Fruit- A Dona fruit that's far too ripe, do not eat this.

14. Bagbang Fruit- Non edible fruit. Seeds are crushed and used as gunpowder.

15. Purpur Fruit- Fruit filled with fresh, sweet water. Essential on planets with no source of fresh water.

16. Sako Fruit- Fruit shaped like a fish that actually tastes like Gushers.

17. Cinnakinna- Only perfect for eating when it begins to drip frosting-like syrup. Any other time it's mediocre.

18. Hottaddi Fruit- Fruit that, when boiled, can be opened and poured out to reveal a hot, sweet drink.

19. Nuba Dona Fruit- A perfect Dona fruit, tastes like a frosted donut.

20. Shybell Fruit- Translucent fruit with a milky juice within. Easy to digest and a common ingredient in teas.

Rift Universe Meats

1. Dragon Roast, tough, pressure cook it.

2. Trotters, Meatsaur. Meatsaur's are alien dinosaurs genetically altered to be ideal food.

3. Liver, Meatsaur liver

4. Bunbun Kidneys, a toxin/poison neutralizing organ. Soaked 72hrs before cooking renders it edible. But why would you eat in the first place, that's gross, they're people.

5. Angel wings, small, sold in pairs.

6. The leg and foot of an unnamed mining species. Not recognized as a planet with intelligent life, they're free game.

7. Angel leg, fine meats in the Inferno. Technically illegal but lol you gonna say no to a demon?

8. Demon leg, fine meats in the Inferno. Yeah them demons be fucky.

9. Entire Side, is fuckin big, animal has pretty patterns on their meat cause they skin is see through. They live on the cold, dark portion of Planet Rift.

10. Drumstick, Demon again, but this is pretty big and is usually fried specifically.

11. American-Style Roast, made of the native species of planet Rift, Moomkeys. No one is safe.

12. Kallopian leg. They lil predatory horses, but intelligent. Everyone is food.

13. Tomahawk Steak, a fuckin frog thing, nothing special about them other than they hail from Kallop like the Kallopians.

14. Kabab chunks, angel.

15. Bunbun loin, falls apart when overcooked.

16. Ghost Filet, super hard to get so expensive. Like not even sold to financially underwhelming people. Tastes like fish.

17. T-Bone, unnamed slum animal. Common meat eaten by the people at the Base of Rift City's buildings. Tastes like 'gator.

18. Trotters, human hands. We are all meat.

19. Angel Wing, large, sold individually.

20. Meatsaur Tongue, eaten by higher class Rift residents.

21. Meatsaur strips, for your fussy lil baby who demands tendies.

22. Demon Bacon, tastes like sin.

23. Macro Ham, made from different cuts of Macros, giant insects, all glued together. Presented as cold cuts.

24. I may have mis-numbered the picture.

25. Bunbun Arms, chewy.

26. Dragon Neck, enjoyed by older Rift generations. Not very good really but it's TRADITION.

27. Ribs, unnamed giant bird found on rift. Kinda cruel to eat this considering the birds are peaceful.

28. Sard Tail, like eating a fucking fetus you monster. Sards reproduce by budding, dropping their tail end so it can reform into a new Sard. You're awful for eating this.

Rift Universe Plants

1. Sky Bush, a bush that floats through the air. Good luck to spot one.

2. Mercy Belles, flower named after an act performed in Rift's history. A pair of frighten sisters offered these flower to a Rift colonizer as they begged for their life. They were not spared. Bad luck to give one to someone you like.

3. Coro Tree, secretes a sap that eats away at the tree itself.

4. Peaktre Tree, small tree often trimmed into shapes. Sprouts flowers on the leafy portion a translucent reflective dangly flowers below.

5. Hoverleaf bush, remarkable due to the fact that the leaves float, but is otherwise poisonous.

6. Devil's Tail stalk, secretes a tasty yet often throat-closing sap.

7. Brealla, tall stalks of harmless plant that can be used a defense against Rift's acid rain.

8. Marsh Mall, mushroom that tastes like chocolate and gets you high as fuck. Dangerous in high doses.

P. Fliver, mobil plant native to Kallop.

10. Relp Cabbage, loved by herbivores of Rift.

11. Triproot, root-system that relies on its preytripping and falling into it's tendrils.

12. Speaksies, aka Screamers. Replays what it hears to excess when a living thing nears it. Fields of these flowers are completely devoid of any life with a heartbeat.

13. Scarebros, also found in fields but uses a humanoid figure to deter other humanoids from nearing it's flower. Grows better in well cared-for farms, humanoid figure can be harvested as farm-animal feed.

14. Orbit Berries, tastey! Picks up small objects and flings them at enemies.

15. Space Rose, the first flower found by human astronauts. Not really a flower, it's a demon below the planet they were on.

16. Garlands, leaves that grow from a mold found only on ceilings.

#plants and herbs #flowers #plants #art #concept art #graphic design #fruits #alien #alien flower #alien fruit #alien meat #raw meat #cuts of meat #my art

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gwilymz · 2 years

Text

filthy f*cking rich -- part one

hey! im back to writing; this is a new fandom im writing for, so im nervous! be gentle with me! i hope you enjoy and i hope some succession fans find this! this is a multi-part series and im not sure how many parts i plan to write, but i realized that im far too detailed as it is, so i had to break it up nonetheless. i also apologize for any errors; i admit i get lazy when it comes to the editing stage!!

Synopsis: You are out at an elite club in NYC and meet a handsome stranger. Smitten by each other, your flirting escalates and important details are left unsaid.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warning: Lead up to smut, Drug usage (by you and Kendall), Drinking

“Good fucking god, Y/N,” your friend, Amelia exclaimed, as you forked out another fifty to pay for drinks. It was payday, and to say the family you babysitted for was rich would be the understatement of the fucking century. “What does that family do for a living?” She asked, downing the last of her mojito. At 20 dollars a pop, she was savoring every last drop, not that she was paying for any of it.

“All I know is the mom of the kids is divorced to a very wealthy, very guilty businessman. Apparently he makes a fortune, he fucked up the marriage, and he just pays for them to live lavishly. Rava still has a job though, a good one too. Basically, they’re really fucking well off.” You answered, shoving some bills into a poorly-filled tip jar.

“Well good god” She answered, stirring her fresh mojito, not even hearing the clinking of the ice against the frosted glass over the steady house music blasting through her veins, along with the minty rum. “If they need a back up sittr, I’d be happy to work for even half of that. They can put me on retainer.”

You grinned. “It’s a good gig, for sure.” You mouthed a slurred Thank You to the bartender, an attractive man in his mid-twenties, with full lips, and even fuller biceps. His face was rugged looking, peppered with stubble, and he smelled of cleanliness, of musky aftershave and the remnants of sweat, the evidence of which was glistening over his smooth forehead.

“He was hot.” Your other friend, Libby, commented. “I’m self-conscious just being here. The elite scene in New York is just so intimidating.”

You nodded, gulping down a moscow mule; it was just a little something to sip on between shots. “I definitely agree. The key is to just pretend you fit in, even if you really don’t.”

Amelia scoffed. “You do fit in though.” She pointed to your purse, a new Yves Saint Laurent bag you had recently saved up for.

“Not really, and I’ve only worked for Rava for a couple months. Most of this money has gone to rent. Besides, I don’t think you understand just how rich these people are.”

“How rich?” Libby raised her eyebrows, dark brown and perfectly plucked. Her family back home was much more well off than yours, so you were a bit annoyed at her commentary. A pretty brunette from Connecticut, she sported 400 dollar dresses for a casual dinner, and didn’t need to worry about where rent money would come from each month. She still got allowance at 22, a fact which astounded you when you were told.

You sucked your lips in, shrugging. “I mean, it depends. Shall we get some statistics? I mean, I’m assuming all of these dudes in suits don’t struggle for money. They just look so far removed from the world. An average night out for them is hundreds at dinner, the same at the bar, and five times that on coke.” You gestured to a man sitting in a dimly lit corner, hunched over a handheld mirror. The sleeves to his crisp button up were rolled to his elbows, revealing strong, assured forearms. At least 4 rolled up hundred dollar bills were sprawled around the table, and he picked one up, pushing his right nostril in as he bent down to take in the three, fat lines of cocaine expertly striping the mirror. They were long, a clean white.

You didn’t realize how intently you were staring at him until he looked up, eyelids hooded, his hazel irises sleepy, drunk looking, confused and secure all at the same time. He looked as if he was the most comfortable in that state of in between, of knowing exactly what he wanted and what he was doing, but also of the looming terror of not knowing what the fuck would come next. Would he crash? Would he have a sustained high, or would it fizzle out, like it did with the shitty coke, the stuff he got when he put Greg in charge of the drugs?

He smirked at you, and you saw how his pupils grew into black saucers, swallowing the hues of golden brown you could barely make out with the intensity of the purple lights glimmering above him. He glanced down at the tiny baggie of coke, half spilled on the mirror, and tapped his nostril twice, shrugging. His strung out way of asking if you wanted a line or two.

“This is what I mean,” You looked back at your friends, gesturing with your head back at the man in front of you, tucked away in his own little version of heaven, gripping the ground with the soles of his tough leather shoes but simultaneously high, high above everyone else, in his own world, where everything was fuzzy and intense and he always got whatever he wanted because he was always the richest in the room. And now he had money and untethered confidence, the best company a man could ask for.

“What is what you mean?” Amelia looked over your shoulder at him.

“I bet you if I asked this man how rich he was, his answer would shock you.” You answered, clutching your bag as you made your way over to him.

“You can’t ask him that!” Amelia semi-whispered in your ear, looking around as she sat across from him.

“Ask who what?” The man questioned, cutting another line with a heavy looking credit card.

You wouldn’t usually be as forward, but the four drinks in your system brought a newfound confidence along with the semi-slurred speech and flushed cheeks. “You’re rich, aren’t you? Like how loaded would you say you are?”

He pretended to ponder. “I guess, imagine someone who is filthy fucking rich. Like beyond what you could comprehend.” He smirked. His voice was firm but silky, his lips pillowy and red, bitten from his high.

You sat down directly next to him, drawn in by his half-smile, how he carried himself, how he was commanding but oddly off-putting all at the same time. He just looked like trouble, like a scandal, but it made you all the more intrigued.

“And that’s how rich you are?” You asked.

He raised his eyebrows. “No, a lot fucking richer than that,.” He bit his bottom lip, gesturing towards you with his rolled up hundred.

“Cocky, much?” Libby scoffed.

“She asked,” He shrugged, taking the line for himself instead of waiting for your prolonged response. You didn’t love the idea of coke, but he looked fucking hot doing it and you couldn’t believe you found yourself thinking that. He sniffled, wiping the excess powder from around his nose. The remnants of a line peppered the corner of the mirror, and he gathered it with his index finger. “You know, if you’re afraid to snort, you can rub some on your gums. Less scary that way.”

You looked up at him, pondering what to do next. You had never done coke before, but here was an upscale club in New York, a sunken-in green couch, and a sexy, rich guy with a lopsided smile, basically offering up his finger for you to suck on for a free high. Maybe it was against your better judgement, but you grabbed his wrist, pulling his finger to your lips. His eyes locked onto yours, his pupils becoming impossibly larger as he swiped the pad of his finger across your velvety gums.

He smiled, moving his other hand to your knee. The finger that was just in your mouth gathered a small amount of coke on the moistened pad, finding its way to his own mouth for a quick swipe along his gums. Your skirt had ridden up, bunched around your upper thigh. He pretended not to notice, a newer, fresher high pouring from his nose into his head and seeping through the rest of his body as he looked at yours, as inconspicuous as possible.

The high hit you slower than you had expected; your tongue tingled as you watched his lips form into a curious smirk, deepening the creases by the corners of his mouth, where slightly greyed stubble was peppered. You wouldn’t usually allow a random, strung out man touch above your knee at a crowded club, but something about this man was making you erratic, and excessively planted in the firm ground of the present, when your head usually floated more towards the future.

You had honestly forgotten your friends were still here, watching you and the nameless, filthy rich man eye fuck each other as the vibration of the bass seemingly pushed you even closer together.

“I liked that,” He whispered in your ear, moving his hand to grip the soft skin of your inner thigh, still low enough to be acceptable, but flirting along the line of inappropriate, sexual.

“Liked what?” You feigned innocence, flashing him a cute smile.

He rolled his eyes, his breath hot against your cheek as his thumb rubbed circles on your thigh. “My finger in your mouth. Did you like the coke?”

He was as quick to mention it as he was to brush the topic to the back of the room, where your friends had roamed off to, still watching you from afar, awaiting a look for help you felt you wouldn’t need to give them.

“I’m indifferent about it. Never have done it before, and definitely wasn’t planning on doing it tonight either.” You smiled down at your lap, suddenly aware of his stare, its effects burning your cheeks, your hands, in between your legs. He smelled rich and he had that greedy entitlement seeping from his pores, something which usually would have been strongly off putting, but at that moment made you certain that this was a man who got what he wanted, when he wanted it.

“I didn’t mean to peer pressure.” He said, flatly. His thumb and index finger tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Wouldn’t want to corrupt a sweet looking girl such as yourself.” He gave a closed-mouth smile, his thumb swiping against your lower lip, still tingling.

“I don’t mind. It was my choice.” You shrugged, your foot beginning to tap against the wooden floor which was littered with a sticky gunk.

“Atta girl,” He sighed, squeezing your leg, pulling you even closer, bordering on his lap. His pants were molded perfectly to his body, hugging his thighs and stopping right at his ankles. His fingers played with the hem of your skirt, a tight black number you had bought ages ago in your hometown. “This suits you.” His tone was blunt, but you could tell he was trying to say the right thing. It was just unclear as to whether he actually cared about your feelings or if he just wanted to fuck you. There was a slim chance it was both.

“I like the suit.” You pulled on his tie, making his lips near yours; you could smell mint, some tobacco, the faintest tinge of lime. “Looks like you came straight from the office.”

He chuckled. “I’m never out of the fucking office.” He fingered the top button of his shirt, popping it open. “It’s all business, sweetheart.”

“Even this?” You looked up at him through your lashes. “Getting high with me?” You loosened his tie a bit, forgetting you were in a public place, although it felt like it was just you two, breathing each other in, eager to see what would come next.

“Well this is a break. Well deserved.” His hand inched further up your thigh, and you welcomed it, looking around for a quick escape, somewhere a little more quiet.

“What did you do to deserve this?” You teased, pushing his hand further up your thigh. He groaned lowly, raising his eyebrows.

“That’s a good fucking question, because I do nothing but fuck up.” He swiped his thumb over your clothed clit, feeling how wet you were, how ready. “Jesus,” He whispered. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Where exactly are we going?” You asked, fiddling with a button on his shirt, opting to pop it open because you were already this far with him.

“My car, my penthouse, fucking anywhere.” He pulled his hand away from your core, pulling his tie looser in the process. “It’s hot in here. Loud. And I want you.”

Throwing back the rest of your drink, you grabbed his hand, pulling him up from the couch, eager to make his–and your own–wish come true. He didn’t bother to gather the four, rolled up hundreds, or the rest of his drugs, but maybe, you thought, they weren’t his to begin with. You often forgot how in the minds of the elite, everything was theirs, nothing was off limits, and everyone and everything could be bought. “So where will you have me?”

He pondered, or more likely, pretended to. “My penthouse, of course. If I am to choose. It’s nothing special, though.” He winked.

You headed toward the exit at the front, where you had come in, his hand still grasped in your own, warm, inviting, masculine.

“Other way.” He pushed his other hand against your lower back, turning you around. His lips pressed against your ear. “I wasn’t lying about how fucking rich I am. If we go out that door, we’re the headlines in tomorrow’s tabloids.” And then his hand inched lower, over your ass. As he led you out of a hidden exit, blocked off by caution tape, you wondered if this was a good idea, or a march to your own grave. Leaving a bar, drunk and high with a man whose name you didn’t even know seemed to coincide more with the latter.

“What was your name?” You asked, opting for at least a false sense of security. It was better than nothing, after all.

He tore the haphazardly strewn caution tape, his hand still on the small of your back. “I was wondering when you’d ask that. “It’s Kendall.” He conveniently left out the last name; Kendall was sufficient enough, and left out the recognizable aspect, the heavily connoted Roy that either had women throw their drinks in his face or feign interest in him.

It was an interesting name, you thought. Definitely unexpected, but that was like him. You said nothing, not surprised he didn’t ask for your name in return.

The air from outside was crisp, light. And the wind as fast as the trip to Kendall’s apartment building, one of the only residential buildings you had seen in New York to be aptly called a skyscraper. The tension between you and Kendall was palpable as the driver opened the back door for you. The combination of the brisk breeze and the cramped backseat had made your skirt ride up quite a bit, and Kendall was hard, excited as he thought about what would come next, what he would do to you. He was certain the cocaine had worn off, but he still felt high, and that concerned him, just a little. He felt like he was twenty one again, when independence was new, sexuality to be explored.

His apartment door was heavy. That’s what Kendall told you as he pushed you up against it, causing it to slam, the cold echo of metal startling you into his arms. He smiled against your mouth, one of his hands finding your throat. His grip was firm, but he didn’t choke you. Instead he just looked at you, your hair tousled and frizzy, cheeks tinged with a feverish blush, your lips even darker.

Swiping his free thumb over your bottom lip, he pushed it into your mouth, causing you to suck on it instinctively. Your cheeks hollowed, eyes sheepishly meeting his.

Then, with the commanding, firm tone only a man like him could ever get away with, he said, “Get on your knees, now.”

Part Two

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