#and put it in its own spot or in a separate container

[dcangel]

can you do another stiles smut?

Thinking about road head with stiles...

Stiles was the one who gave you those eyes; the kind that you do a double take at from across the room when you were with the pack, already onto the third night in a row of trying to figure out the mysteries of the latest supernatural threat.

But why would you even think to question it? Right now the rest of the pack thought you two had left because you simply told them you were tired and couldn't think straight—but that might've been because stiles was occupying your mind.

You hopped in the passenger seat and thought it was going to be a quick ride to his house—his dad had yet another late night shift thanks to the disappearances that certain people seemed to know more about than others—but when you realized you weren't on those familiar roads, you started thinking. Was stiles going to take you to the lookout point that overlooked beacon hills?

Honestly, it wouldn't surprise you if he just pulled over to have you on the side of the isolated back roads. It wouldn't be the first time you two went at it in the Jeep, you just felt bad for your friends with heightened senses that might've smelt the lingering aroma.

He didn't put his hand on your thigh like usual, not until you grabbed his hand and innocently intertwined your fingers did he pull away after pressing a light kiss to the back of your hand and rest his on the exposed skin of your thigh. Innocent enough, right?

Wrong. You couldn't have been anymore wrong. It didn't take long for his fingers to slide up the smooth skin, the side of his pinky and palm rubbing your jean-clad heat. Each time his knuckle nudged you in just the right spot, your hips twitched — more like bucked.

And it took even less time for you to unbutton them, his fingers soon pumping in and out of the wetness he smiled at when he felt it through your panties. Neither of you had even said a word, just small huffs that could be separated into either a laugh or a muffled moan, of course you were the one tallying up the latter category.

His index and middle fingers curled upward in come hither motions while his other hand remained on the wheel. He would've loved to see your face; the way you chewed your bottom lip, eying his hand and the way his fingers disappeared inside you before you threw your head backward against the head rest. Good thing the road was empty, because he may or may not have driven over the double yellow lines a few times.

You noticed the way his hips shifted a bit uncomfortably, but he hadn't said anything. At first, you thought that maybe he was a little uncomfortable with you, but you somehow hadn't found the bulge he was readjusting every now and then — leaving none of his hands to steer the wheel.

You didn't want to stop his rhythmic movements, especially since you had just started to feel a little something building now, but at the same time you also got your pleasure from pleasing him. You appreciated that stiles wasn't needy in the sense that when he was pleasing you he would stop and tell you it was his turn because he couldn't wait any longer.

Instead, he never said anything about it and as far as you knew, he didn't even think about it—having said so to you multiple times before.

But that didn't mean stiles was never needy, because stiles knew how to be needy and whiny in just the right ways to get whatever he wanted from you, and you'd easily comply.

"Stiles... wanna touch you." You breathed out, unaware that these are some of the first words spoken since you two got in the Jeep together.

"You are." He pressed his fingers upward in a pulsing motion, stifling a laugh at his own humor.

You rolled your eyes, at first you started to because of his bad joke, but they rolled further back at the feeling of his fingers pressing that spot inside you. "No, just—stiles, please..?" You said in that tone. That airy, whiny tone that sounded like your every word contained a soft moan of its own; the one that had him biting the inside of his cheek as he thought about fighting it, but knowing he'd give up eventually, so he just allowed himself to cut straight to the chase.

He gave your cunt if few more quick, harsh pumps and when he pulled his fingers back for what you thought would be another one, he didn't thrust them back in. Your body missed the touch, but your mind left no time to process as you had already unbuckled and leaned partially over the center console. Your ribs leaned against the edge while your elbow propped you up.

Reaching your other hand over, you saw as stiles watched you-rather, your hand—with quick glances between the road and your dainty fingers trailing over the already-strained bulge in his jeans. When you looked up at him, he licked his lips out of nervous or anxious habit, but said nothing as he fixed his gaze on the pavement ahead.

Like stiles, you wasted no time pulled the zipper down and unbuttoning them and opening the fly. Because of his seated position and the obvious lack of ability to move due to the need to maintain at least a few rules of the road and get you both home safe, he couldn't just lift his hips like every other night and allow you pull the denim down.

Slowly, as his wriggled his hips more-albeit unintentionally-his dick had formed a tent in his boxers. You didn't have the patience for teasing or talking things slow, and judging by the sighed moan he let out when you placed a palm on his covered shaft, neither did he.

Your dainty fingers quickly reached under his boxers, finding what they wanted easily. You looked up at him, only your eyes, not tilting your head up at all. You were entranced by him, all of him. The way his brown eyes were wide and his pupils were blown with lust, the way his pale freckled skin had a reddish hue settled on it, the way his short, brown, fluffy hair started to stick to his forehead from the thin coat of sweat.

You liked his current state, but you wanted to make a mess of him. Your hand guided his length from his boxers, freeing him from the confines of the restricting fabric. Your thighs clenched, and you bit your lip.

As soon as your hand touched him, he groaned. Your hand was warm and light on his skin. He mumbled out your name as you began to slowly stroke him.

You turned your body to face him more; the front of your thighs pressing against the center console while your knees situated on the gap between the seat and the center console. Luckily for you, your hair was already tied back. You bent down and placed a kiss on his tip, your lips leaving with a small coating of wet, salty warmth from his precum. Your tongue poked out and cleaned them, also grazing his pink tip.

Stiles wasn’t sure if it was even humanly possible to focus on the road while you went down on him. The way the flat of your tongue dragged up his (almost) painfully hard cock alone was making his hips gyrate, his foot heavy on the excelerator as his lower back arched lightly.

You wrapped your lips around his swollen head, sucking gently as your tongue licked and swirled around the sensitive skin like a lollipop. Unbeknownst to you, one of his hand left the wheel and gentle wrapped around the back of your neck, finding its place from muscle memory. His thumb pressed against the corner of your jaw, right below your ear, from behind, gently coaxing your head downwards.

You complied, slowly taking him in your mouth as your saliva dripped down the rest of his length, as well as your chin. You couldn’t fully get all the way down, because, despite your gag reflex not being as bad as it used to be (thanks to stiles,) you still coughed when his tip nudged your uvula.

The vibrations made his cock twitch, his head falling back momentarily before remembering to keep his eyes on the road. Thank god it was empty tonight.

He must’ve been driving in circles around the outskirts of town, because by the time you had familiarized yourself with his dick hitting the back of your throat, stiles could’ve came right then and there. The tip of your nose nestled against the trimmed patch of curls at his base as you let yourself adjust, hoping you wouldn’t gag again.

Your tongue was flat; pressed against the side of his cock and the bottom of your mouth. Reminding yourself to breathe through your nostrils, you slowly began to move up and down.

“Fuck,” He groaned, “faster.”

You obeyed, bobbing your head up and down quicker. You felt his large hand ravel in your hair, his fingers pressing on your head when he wanted you to take him deeper.

Your eyes watered, your vision becoming blurred, but you literally could not care less. You knew stiles would flip out if he saw your misty eyes, one; because he was constantly weary of accidentally hurting you, and two; once he knew you were okay, he was covertly hooked on seeing you look up at him with glossy doe eyes.

You felt the jeep suddenly speed up, sending your head back and hitting his stomach from the acceleration.

“Shi—Sorry, fuck… just like that.” He murmured, his thumb rubbing across the nape of your neck. You pulled your lips up, leaving them around the swollen tip of his pulsing cock. You knew exactly how to drive him crazy, and he knew it too.

You kissed and licked his tip, sucking lightly in ways that made his eyes roll back and caused him to forget that he was behind the wheel.

the tires trembled on the rumble strip rooted in the double yellow lines, suggesting that the jeep had crossed to the wrong side of the road. you hummed around him at the shaking, making his fingers thread through the hair at your nape, tugging at the soft strands.

suddenly, his attention was brought back to the endangering scenario by the wail of a horn coming from another car. you jumped, letting out a small squeal on his length before reflexively lifting your head. your skull met his forearms that were outstretched in an iron grip on the wheel. his knuckles turning white while he yanked the vehicle to the right, passing the left side tires back over the double yellows. the two cars’ tires produced equal squeals on pavement as they straightened out.

scooting back, you worked your way from under his arms and mostly back into your seat, leaving his neglected cock struggling with the loss of pleasure.

“m-maybe we shouldn’t… do this on the road.” he’d paused to look to you between words.

you hastily nodded. “yeah, no.”

nevertheless, your eyes found his swollen length. “i’m definitely not leaving you like that.”

his teeth scraped at his cheek to conceal a whimper, but it left in the form of his hips shifting. “o-okay.”

#stiles stilinski #stiles’!world #teen wolf #dylan obrien #stiles’s!world #stiles stilinski teenwolf #stiles smut #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles teen wolf #stiles x reader #teen wolf stiles #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles teen wolf smut

[highlandwhackamole]

A Grand(ish) Theory of What the Heck

I love the utterly unhinged, super detailed theories about what's going on in Good Omens, especially in season 2. I hope one or more of them turn out to be true, as some kind of glorious puzzle-box-hidden-code monstrosity. And also I think that there has to be a simpler explanation for things, for the people who are at least Somewhat Normal (tm) about this show. (... I assume such people do exist somewhere...) This is what I have been pondering recently.

The thing that started me thinking about this was this post, containing some promotional materials for season 2 that feature main characters with scenes in their heads. Like this:

Seeing this created a very similar situation in my own head, but with a nice shiny lightbulb.

All the weirdness: the car, the sideburns, the clock, the behavior of the folks of Soho, the vanishing storefront signs. The absence of God. I think this is all because everything we see is in their heads.

I don't mean it's made up. At least not entirely. Memory is already a plot point. Why not explore it on a deeper level? I've read theories emphasizing the minisodes' stories being retold by Aziraphale and Crowley. I think the whole season is like that.

You know that sort of conventional-wisdom-fact-concept that you can only dream faces of people you've seen before (or variations therein), because your brain can't make new faces up? So it just fills in what it thinks is close enough? I think that idea, applied to remembering or recollecting things, could explain so many things that are wonky in this show.

Wonky Things

Crowley parking in an impossible London location? He definitely remembers it was in London, so his brain just stuck some obvious London landmarks in there.

Awkward clattering happening when Crowley throws the stacks of books he's inexplicably carrying around the bookshop? He wouldn't actually throw Aziraphale's books! But he'd like to think he's cool and nonchalant enough to do that, and if he did it would definitely make Some Kind of Noise.

Jim walking toward the bookshop from somewhere mysterious? Maggie and Nina saw him first, and he came from that direction, so he must've walked all that way. They don't know about the elevator in the Donkey.

Aziraphale remembers tartan hills and the Loch Ness monster because he was having a jolly time driving through Scotland, so obviously the scenery must've been whimsical Scottish things.

Nina put the Honolulu roast sign up, so she remembers its presence, but perhaps the occult/ethereal visitors to her shop do not.

Maggie really did text Aziraphale about the rent, but a note through the mail slot is a much more dignified way for a scholarly angel to imagine he received a message.

On the Fallibility of Recall

This season is loaded with unrealistic inclusions. The colors are turned up to 11. Some of the scenes are more caricature than believable interaction. Remembering things never copies or reproduces them with what one might call high fidelity.

Scenes recalled by separate memories will inherently vary. One person's hefty jigger might be another person's dash. Who knows for sure where the sun was that day? You and I might recall an event having different lighting or a different color palette, sort of like viewing something with different lens filters.

According to Neil, Crowley is an unreliable narrator of the story of his Fall. He labels the variations in clock times as a continuity error in a show where Everything Is Meant, but he doesn't say whose continuity error it is. He insists that the Bentley is the same through the whole season; maybe it was the same, but remembered differently. Maybe this is part of why there's more CGI but it's harder to spot.

So What?

Is this all there is to it? I sure hope not. I like my Good Omens with enough layers to put to shame an onion wrapped in a cake and covered in a parfait.

Is this possibly the fancy footwork that's distracting from the real magic trick? I wouldn't put it past Our Gaiman. There are a lot of things one could hide in the narrative of unreliable memory.

Is this going to stop me from rewatching and repondering and remaking theories for the next couple years? Not even at gunpoint.

#good omens #good omens meta #ineffable mystery #neil gaiman #good omens questions #good omens 2

[akashababy]

Billy loomis x Top male reader x Stu macher (Smut)

**WARNING: This article contains mature content and is intended for adult readers only. Reader discretion is advised.**

🖤❤️In the quiet town of Woodsboro, it was a steamy July night. Stars gleamed in the sky, and the moon was full. Teenagers are inside a darkened house, getting ready for an exciting and terrifying night ahead of them. Billy Loomis, the popular jock who was charming everyone, was getting ready for a party with M/N, his new partner. Tonight would mark their first official public appearance together as a couple, having been dating for a few weeks.

❤️🖤

❤️🖤 Billy was staring at his boyfriend's toned body in the mirror as he buttoned up his black shirt. His muscular arms and chest were flaunted by the form-fitting white tank top he was sporting. He had silky skin, and Billy was eager to put his arms around him and feel it against his own. The door was knocked on just then. It was Billy's closest buddy and co-conspirator, Stu Macher. Tonight was another one of Stu's very raucous parties. He had a cheeky smile on his face and was wearing tight pants and a leather jacket. Billy welcomed him and showed him to his boyfriend as soon as he answered the door.

🖤❤️

🖤❤️ For a few periods, Stu's gaze remained fixed on the M/N before shifting back to his pal. His eyebrows were waved suggestively as he inquired, "So, what are we doing tonight?" Billy said with a playful twinkle in his eyes, "I was thinking of taking my boyfriend to the abandoned farmhouse on the outskirts of town." Stu's eyes lit up with anticipation. The notorious farmhouse, hehe. He grinned devilishly. "It's the ideal spot for some privacy, and it has a creepy vibe to it."

❤️🖤

❤️🖤 Billy and M/N exchanged a glance and then nodded. After getting into Stu's vehicle, the three of them set out for the farmhouse. The moon was at its highest point as they arrived, giving the old mansion a spooky glow. The boys entered and proceeded to explore the dusty hallways and rooms. They shared a bottle of whiskey that Stu had brought, laughing at each other's jokes and taking swigs.

🖤❤️

🖤❤️ The boys began to become closer and more intimate as the night went on because of the alcohol's effects. Seated on a shattered couch, Billy and M/N muttered sweet nothings to each other while their fingers entwined. But Stu was feeling bold and adventurous. With his gaze fixed on the M/N, he moved in the direction of the youngsters. Stu leaned in and kissed the M/N without saying a word. Billy observed with excitement as Stu's hands traced each curve and line on his boyfriend's body. Stu ground down on M/N, letting out a groan.

🖤❤️

❤️🖤 Billy reached his breaking point. He desired to partake in the enjoyment. Grasping the M/N's hand, he drew him in his direction. Before long, the trio found themselves embroiled in a passionate embrace. The boys examined each other's bodies under the moonlight, discarding clothes and exposing skin. With their hands and tongues all over M/N, Billy and Stu collaborated to make him happy. Their coordinated and synchronized actions elevated their partner to previously unattainable levels of pleasure, making them an ideal partnership.

❤️🖤

❤️🖤 The males took turns as the night wore on, making sure they were everything to each other. Their groans and grunts resounded throughout the farmhouse as they gave in to their most basic cravings. Their crazy night came to an end as they lay exhausted and nude, with the light beginning to rise. The boys knew that this would be a night they would never forget, so they were both tired and excited. Billy realized he had not only found a new love in Stu and M/N but also a new team as they laughed and joked their way back to their separate houses. And he was eager to find out what other adventures they would go on later.

#dom male reader #lgbtq #top male reader #smut #billy x dom male reader x stu #scream #billy loomis #stu macher #poly ghostface x reader #ghostface #seme male reader #male reader #billy x male reader x stu #gay #scream smut #x reader #masterlist #scream fanfic #scream aesthetic #scream x male reader #scream x dom male reader #slashers fanfiction #slashers x male reader

[sxgarworld]

Painter’s Hand

Order Contains: In which Choso Kamo is one of your peers in your college art course. He comes over to study you painting, but it seems his infatuated with more than just your technique.

With a side of: Biting, whimpering, soft!dom needy Choso bc im a slut for whimpering men

Calorie Count: 1.8k words

As you were packing up your supplies, and taking your dried canvas and placing it in its separate bag, you hear thick soles of someone’s shoes walk up behind you. You turn, a little shocked, to see one of your classmates standing there eagerly.

It was your classmate, Choso. You knew him because during critique, he had nothing bad to say about your art. He didn’t say much though, he always looked tired and in his own world. It didn’t help that he always had big, clunky headphones on.

“Choso! Can I help you with something?” you said, scolding yourself silently for sounding so formal. You realized you were nervous, why did he make you nervous?

“Y/N, this might be a weird question but,” he paused, fiddling with his hair that was pulled into a ponytail, “I was wondering if, you know, one day you’d let me see you paint? Just us two? I love your art and I’d love to see your technique,” he asks. His compliments made you go red. Ever since you could remember, you could never take a compliment like a normal person. Quickly, you got giddy and smiled at him.

“Of course! Here, give me your phone number and I’ll text you my dorm number and when I’m free,” you smile, taking out your phone and allowing him to put in his contact. He gently takes the phone, and you can’t help but notice how his slender, long fingers are slightly spotted with blue and white paints. He hands your phone back to you.

“Well, I’ve got another class across campus in thirty minutes. But I’ll see you later?” He asks, hopeful. You nod. He walks out with his painting (which still looked wet) and his bag. His Doc Martens clunk against the ground as he leaves.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

It’s around 8pm, you’re sitting in your dorm room, swiping through textbook pages, careful to not get a paper-cut. You texted Choso a while back, and he said he was coming, but never specified when. After a while you got distracted, forgetting about having a guest, until you heard a knock at your door.

It made you drop your highlighter in shock. You quickly got up to look in the mirror to make sure you looked presentable. No crumbs on your shirt or clumpy mascara. After checking, you went to go see who was at the door. Staring through your peephole, you saw Choso, this time with his hair tied up into two buns on the sides of his head. How cute!

“Chosoooo,” you smiled, opening the door, “come in! I was about to finish that painting from class today.” He nodded, eyes taking in your dorm. You were artsy, and your dorm reflected that strongly. The interior design was so fun to look at.

“Did you decorate yourself?” he asked, running a hand along a velvet blanket thrown neatly on your couch. It was so soft, everything inside the dorm felt so comfortable. Like a home more than just a dorm.

“Oh! Yeah I did, took a little inspiration from people online, though.” You saw as he walked around, like he was lost in admiration. His normally tired eyes were still tired, but less dead. Like a fish!

“It’s beautiful,” he admired, looking directly at you. Again, your face went red from the praise. It was his voice, too, so deep and raspy, throwing around compliments like this. You couldn’t help but react this way.

“Thank you! Do you wanna.. um, come see me paint now? Or like we could do anything to be honest, I don’t mind,” you stammered. Of course he didn’t want to do anything else, why would he? He just came to see you paint, because he liked your technique.

“Oh painting, yeah we could. I’d love to see you in action,” he said, starting to get close to you. An electric shock was sent down your spine. His words were almost hypnotic. You made your way into your bedroom, pulling out your canvas and placing it on your easel, your pallet already full of paint from earlier. It was a little dried out, but it didn’t matter. It was good enough.

You dipped your brush in the red, and lightly swiped it across your canvas. For you, you watered down your paints a bit. It took away the vibrance but it added a very soft, subtle look. The way you blending was a bit odd too, blending with a brush then a bit more with your fingers.

As you painted, you could feel Choso’s breath down your neck. He was standing right behind you, so close. His hands rested on your easel, meaning you were trapped between him and the easel. It almost made you shake a little bit, which he thought was just another part of your technique.

“You’re real good at this, yknow?” he whispered, his words hitting your ear breathily. It made your entire body heat up. His deep voice right into your ear, praising you as you worked. It made you melt against him, back pressed to his chest.

“Don’t shake too much, sugar, I’d hate it if you ruined this pretty painting,” he said, grabbing your shaking hand as you dipped your brush back into your paint. What’d he just call you? Sugar? It was difficult to keep your composure now, with him sweet talking you.

“I’m not gonna ruin it,” you said quietly, almost to yourself. He let out a soft chuckle, his hands now resting on your waist. God you hoped he couldn’t feel how hot and nervous you were. You were glad he definitely couldn’t feel how wet you were.

“I bet you won’t sweetheart,” he said, taking his hand and grabbing your jaw. He softly forced you to look up at him. “You’re just so good at this, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t hold yourself together, it was starting to be too much. Did he come here to watch you work, or did he have ulterior motives? You could tell, his dead eyes were almost cloudy as he looked at you. Clouded with what? Lust? He didn’t break eye contact with you.

You turned, so your chest was facing his chest, and you grabbed the collar of his shirt. For a second you hesitated, wondering if you should question him or not. But something inside of you pressed yourself against him, pulling him closer and softly pressing your lips against his.

“God, I’ve wanted you for months. You’re so reserved, I needed a good reason to finally see you, to have you like this.” His eyes glossed over you, your hot body and your red face. He kissed you again, this time on your neck. You gripped onto his t-shirt, a bit rougher than you expected. He kept planting kisses on your neck and your collar bone, making you shake.

“Please, Choso,” you whined. He didn’t even need to ask you what you wanted. He lifted you up, his arms were so strong, and tossed you onto your bed. He pressed you down into the mattress, crawling on top of you and kissing you more.

“Please what baby?” he teased, knowing exactly what you wanted. You looked at him with pleading eyes as he kissed you over and over again, the kisses starting to become sloppier and wetter. He didn’t even bother to let you finish begging, he couldn’t help himself around you. Slowly he slipped off your jeans, and with it, your panties. For a minute he just sat and kissed you, letting you grind against his strong thighs.

But it was too much for him, he couldn’t just sit and tease you like this for long. He whined, tugging at shirt.

“Nu uh, that’s not fair,” you frowned “All your clothes are still on.” He looked at you with wide eyes, then taking all of his clothes off, kicking his pants off the side of your bed. You couldn’t help but look at him. Underneath his baggy clothes, you thought he’d be skinny and scrawny. He was… glorious. His body was chiseled and defined, which was odd for a fine arts major. You immediately sat on his lap, pulling off your shirt and bra.

He bit at your neck, sucking and leaving the tiniest purple marks up and down the side. He bit down a bit harder than before, leaving a full red circle with indents for each of his teeth in your neck. The sudden pain made you whimper, your nails digging into his back.

“Please, let me—“ he couldn’t even finish his sentence, he was too hot and bothered. His cock pressed against your folds, his angry pink tip leaking precum all over his own thighs. “I need it, I need you s’bad.”

You let out a soft laugh, nodding your head. He took that as a resounding yes. He couldn’t help but push his tip into you, no teasing from his fingers to loosen you up. He let out the most gutural, pathetic moan you’ve ever heard. As he thrust in sloppily, he let out whines and whimpers, as if it were too much for him to handle.

“It- agh-! You’re so tight, baby,” he whimpered, burying his head into the crook of your neck. He suddenly grabbed your hips, forcing you to bounce up and down on his cock. You slammed yourself down on it, feeling his tip brush against the entrance to your womb. The feeling made you throw your head back and moan. He let out more pathetic sounds of struggle and pleasure. You could feel him wetting your neck up with… tears?

“It’s too fuckin’ good!” he cried out, fucking you hard. Suddenly he threw you back onto the bed, your head hitting your pillow. He pinned your hands to the headboard. His eyebrows furrowed as he plowed into you desperately, his pace speeding up.

“Choso- haah—“ you panted out, tongue barely escaping your mouth, as his pace suddenly became sloppy. He gripped your hips tighter, pressing bruises into your skin.

“Fuck I’m gonna— I’m— I’m gonna cum!” he said, barely even finishing his sentence before you felt his seed splattering inside your walls, your own juices coating his dick as you finished. He spasmed, leaning his head into the crook of your neck as he let a few last spurts shoot out of his cock. “So- so good baby. You feel so good.” He whimpered out, gulping as he did.

You ran a hand through his hair, almost pulling out another whine from him at the affection caress.

“You’re so pretty baby, such a pretty girl,” he whispered, his hands loosening its grip on your hips, and instead letting his arms wrap around you softly. “Such a pretty girl, yeah? You’re beautiful,” he muttered, kissing along your forehead.

My pretty girl.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

likes and reblogs are appreciated! <3 Please dont repost

#☕️.choso #choso smut #jjk #jjk imagines #jjk smut #choso <3 #choso x you #choso imagine #choso kamo #choso headcanons #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x female reader #choso #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jujutsu #jujutsu choso #jujutsu kaisen

[nerdraging4point0]

Scorpion and the Scales // Chapter Eight // Polyverse AU

Tropes and Tags: why choose romance, MF, MFM, MFMM, instalove, too much sex, tattooed musicians, polyverse, friends to lovers.

Content warning: 18+ only minors DNI. PinV, PinA, oral (f!recieveing, m!recieving), threesomes, light BDSM, voyeurism, exhibitionism, partner sharing, jealousy, angst.

The work below contains fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

Taglist(click to be added): @ladyveronikawrites @synthetic-wasp-570 @beaker1636 @thesazzb @itsjustemily @vinyardmauro @circle-with-me @tearfallpixie @poisongirl616 @shilohrosechicken @th0ughts-pr4yers @meliferafaerie @letmeadoreyoux @latenightmusiclover @transparentwitchnightmare @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @rumoured-whispers

Eve's POV

I was barely back home in Colorado working for a few weeks before putting in a new vacation request. I had the time, that wasn’t the issue, but the way my boss emailed me and asked me to push it out for the week after my initial request sounded like she was already annoyed. I reluctantly did as she asked and the time off was approved, but her tone filled my insides with guilt. One of these days I was going to have to put my foot down and have one of the boys visit me, no matter how inconvenient it was for work. The thought of bringing one of them back to my small two bedroom apartment that I shared with my saint-like roommate made me chuckle - she would die of shock hearing our loud, raucous extracurricular activities. With Chris, we were always vocal and laughing - sex was a fun game for us. But with Noah, it was endless; sometimes slow and sensual, other times quick and dirty, but always endless. The man had no rebound time whatsoever.

The moment my plane's wheels made contact with the tarmac at LAX, I felt a swell of excitement. Though my visit would only last a week, I was eager to make the most of my short time in the city of angels. As the plane taxied to the gate, I grabbed my trusty backpack from under the seat in front of me and pulled my carry-on from the overhead bin. I was traveling light, having packed only the essentials for my quick jaunt through LA.

I had timed my trip strategically. Noah was about to embark on the European leg of his worldwide tour. We both happened to be passing through LA this week before going our separate ways again. Noah would be completely preoccupied with last-minute tour prep during my visit. Likewise, Chris was already on a tour of his own. With the guys absorbed in their music careers, I was off the hook for any major travel plans or events after this. My boss would certainly be pleased that work commitments wouldn't be disrupted. 

Noah was waiting at the baggage claim in his signature casual style - cotton shorts showing off his tattooed athletic legs, calf-high socks paired with classic white Vans sneakers, and a soft t-shirt layered under an unzipped black windbreaker. As soon as I spotted him across the crowded airport, I felt a thrill of excitement and familiarity wash over me. Abandoning my luggage mid-stride, I ran full speed into his open arms. Noah enveloped me in a warm, tight hug, lifting me off my feet and spinning me around right there in the baggage claim. Our reunion was so emotional that Folio simply shook his head in amusement as he dutifully gathered my forgotten bags to clear them out of the busy foot traffic. I was too preoccupied to care or even notice. With my face buried happily in the crook of Noah's neck, I breathed in his comforting scent - a mix of fresh laundry and his woodsy deodorant. As I leaned back to admire his beloved face, I suddenly realized his shaggy, shoulder-length brown hair was gone. In its place was a dramatically shorter, cleaner style with his hair trimmed neatly above his ears. I ran my fingers through the top of his glossy brown locks, marveling at this stylish new look. Noah smiled sheepishly at my reaction, shaking his head a little in an endearing display of shyness. I couldn't help but giggle at this rare moment of vulnerability from my normally confident boyfriend.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his broad white smile practically blinding me even in the dim indoor light of the airport.

Unable to contain my enthusiasm, I exclaimed "Like it? I love it!" and pulled his head down to shower his soft, short hair with excited kisses.

It was a typical overcast afternoon in Los Angeles as Noah drove the three of us down to The Grove shopping center for a fun day out. As we strolled leisurely through the bustling outdoor mall, hand in hand, I was struck by a deep sense of contentment. Noah's sturdy arm wrapped protectively around my shoulders, gently guiding me to his side where he would plant the softest of kisses on top of my head. I couldn't help but wrap my own arms tightly around his torso, nuzzling my face into his side, breathing in his warm, familiar scent. At that moment, I felt like I was finally home again after so much time apart. While we browsed the trendy shops, Noah picked out a new cologne that made him smell fresh and masculine. Meanwhile, Folio found some stylish new sneakers that he just had to have. Despite the gloomy weather, being together and enjoying simple outings like this filled me with gratitude. Noah's affectionate gestures reassured me that our connection was as strong as ever.

The warm pressure of Noah's hand in mine as we strolled down the busy street made my heart flutter. I thought back to my last meeting with Chris, when he had professed his love for me not just once, but twice. At first, I was caught off guard, unsure of how to respond. But the second time, his words resonated within me and I realized that I reciprocated those feelings. Now, walking hand-in-hand with Noah, I was overcome with a similar warmth and affection. As he teased Folio playfully, I was filled with lightness, as if my stomach had disappeared entirely, leaving behind a hollowness that was somehow pleasant and freeing. Noah's voice broke through my reverie as he gave my hand a soft squeeze. "How about Mexican?'' he asked with a smile.

Alma was nothing like I expected. The restaurant was a stunning two-story building with a beautiful Spanish Mediterranean architectural style. I wasn't surprised when the staff looked at Noah with some concern as we entered. Between his and Folio's casual style of dress, with Noah covered in tattoos, and my own post-travel exhaustion, we didn't look nearly as polished and high-end as the patrons they were used to seeing. But despite our appearance, they didn't turn us away at the door. We were promptly shown to our table.

Once seated, Noah eagerly ordered himself the Birria de Res, a traditional Mexican beef stew, while Folio and I opted for the shrimp dish with a chipotle cream sauce. Not missing a beat, Folio quickly ordered himself a beer and became absorbed in scrolling through his phone. With a few moments to ourselves before the food arrived, Noah reached over and gently took my hand, pulling my chair closer to his.

"I'm sorry I will only get a week with you. It seems like forever since I saw you last," he said wistfully. I leaned in, touching our foreheads together in a tender moment. 

"Your birthday was a long time ago, Noah," I replied, thinking back to the last time we had been together in person, over five months ago now. While we had spoken on the phone every day since then, the long separation had been harder to endure than I had anticipated.

"I know, I'm sorry," he offered sincerely. I gave his hand an understanding squeeze. “How’s Chris?” When Noah asked about Chris, it brought a smile to my face. Chris and Noah had never been close - Chris was always too focused on living in the moment to care much about my boyfriend. But during our late night phone calls and text messages, Noah knew exactly who I was talking to. Though Chris didn't pay him much mind, Noah made an effort to ask about him, showing he cared about the people who mattered to me. 

“He’s good. He dyed his hair purple.” thinking back to the new edgy fade he was trying to keep secret until his upcoming music video release. Chris wanted the dramatic hair change to shock his fans and keep them guessing, building anticipation for the video that wouldn't come out for many months. I had bet him that he couldn't go that long without revealing the new 'do. Noah laughed at the idea, certain that people would notice long before the video debut. Unlike Chris, Noah was constantly being photographed and scrutinized in public. But Chris didn't have the same level of fame, so I thought he just might be able to pull off the covert purple hair until his big reveal.

As our food was passed out to us I noticed across the room a couple girls in their twenties whispering at each other across the table, their eyes locked on our table.

The hushed voices and furtive glances in our direction immediately put me on edge. I felt their eyes boring into us, no doubt recognizing Noah as an up-and-coming celebrity. My gut twisted with unease as I saw one girl slyly pull out her phone, her thumbs flying across the screen. Were they taking photos? Texting their friends about spotting Noah out to dinner? The heat rising in my cheeks confirmed my worst fears - our private date was about to become public fodder for gossip blogs and social media.

Noah's style and abundance of tattoos made him stand out in any crowd. I had naively hoped the girls were simply judging his appearance, writing him off as some spoiled trust fund kid living off his parents' money. But the laser-focused attention on our table left no doubt we had been made. My budding romance with Noah was about to be splashed across the internet, our intimate dinner reduced to salacious clickbait.

As reality sunk in, my anxiety spiked. I knew the fame game came with dating someone like Noah. But I wasn't prepared for our relationship to become a public spectacle so soon. My private life was on the verge of being picked apart by strangers and I felt powerless to stop it.

Noah's POV

Damn she looks beautiful like this. 

Eve stood gloriously nude on my balcony, back arched and hands splayed against the glass as I took her from behind. Her skin glowed ethereally in the dim light, a sheen of sweat glistening as our bodies moved in urgent rhythm. The sparkling expanse of the city sprawled below us, a sea of lights I knew concealed countless open windows. Our exhibitionist display for any wakeful onlookers to see, though propriety was the furthest thing from my mind.

It was late, or early, I don’t know what you would call it at one o'clock in the morning when you haven’t slept yet? 

We'd been tangled up in each other's arms since the moment we walked through the front door after a long day of shopping downtown. I've missed her far more than I ever expected. My exes always accused me of being too controlling and clingy, even needy they would say. But it's not possessiveness or insecurity - I simply didn't trust them. I should have listened to my gut instincts back then, realizing that if I feel the need to cling and control, she's no good for me. Too often I let my dick convince me to keep them around just for the sex, despite the headache and stress their presence caused me. But with her, everything just feels right.

Maybe it was the lack of commitment, she may have been my girlfriend-i guess that’s what you would call it-we fucked we talked every day, she called me babe. But not once was there ever I love yous or talk of moving in or talk of weddings, not even hints. It was like having a best friend I could occasionally get my dick wet with. The casual nature provided freedom but also left me yearning for more. I wanted fiery passion, not just fleeting thrills. I craved a partner who felt like home.

Her moans echoed across the hills, startling a dog that began barking in the distance. We smiled knowingly at one another, stifling giggles at having been overheard in our intimate moment. Undeterred, I drove onward, her hips rolling to meet each powerful plunge. The frenzied momentum built to a crescendo and finally, with a guttural groan, I reached my climax, spilling myself completely as her body milked every last drop. 

We stood there on the balcony, her naked body pressed against mine, for what felt like an eternity. The cool night breeze caressed our skin as I gently stroked her back, running my fingers slowly up and down the curve of her spine. Far below us, the city lights sparkled like a sea of stars, the occasional flash of red and blue piercing the darkness as police sirens wailed in the distance. But up here, high above it all, everything was tranquil. This was home. This was peace. My cock, now softened, slipped out of her as she pulled away and walked towards the edge of the pool. Without a moment's hesitation, she dove gracefully off the edge. The splash echoed through the quiet night as I sank down into the porch swing. The chains creaked under my weight as I rocked slowly back and forth. I watched her lithe form gliding through the inky water, her pale skin glowing ethereally in the moonlight. This was perfection. This was contentment. This was home.

She'd been upset since lunch, I could see it all over her face. But as soon as I had her home with me she perked right up. The moment we walked through the front door, her whole demeanor changed. The furrowed brow and downturned lips that had clouded her face all afternoon were replaced with a sparkle in her eyes.

Later in the evening we had reservations at the cool hibachi place downtown, walking into the restaurant everything was fine. But she seemed extra tense. Looking over her shoulder watching people's faces, I'd never seen her so paranoid. It was clear she was on edge about something, constantly scanning the room as if expecting an attack. Her usual carefree demeanor had vanished, replaced by jittery glances and rigid body language. Matt seemed anxious to talk to me all night, and finally when Eve ducked out to use the bathroom he pulled me in to show me what was bothering her. Some fan at the Mexican place had posted a photo of us at lunch, obviously throwing the internet into a frenzy of speculation about whether I was dating Eve or not. I read through the comments quickly, each more hurtful than the last. "If it was a date, Folio wouldn't have been there," one commented, cruelly dismissing Eve as not worth dating alone. "That's who he is dating? She looks nothing like I'd expect from him," another wrote, attacking Eve's looks and worthiness. More comments piled on, talking about how dreams were shattered and bashing Eve for every little perceived flaw. After reading a couple more, I couldn't stand to look anymore. Now Eve's strange behavior made sense - she must have seen the photo and comments, which had clearly cut her deeply. The nasty remarks had ruined what was supposed to be a fun night out, leaving Eve insecure and me furious that anyone would try to hurt her that way. I wanted nothing more than to comfort Eve and assure her none of those hateful words were true.

I started to worry about the upcoming week and how I wouldn’t just be states away from her, I would be continents, a whole time zone away. With Chris on tour through the U.S I felt like we were all abandoning her. Her vulnerability and dependence on me had grown over the last few months as she struggled with increasing anxiety and depression. I knew being so far away for over a week would be hard on her, even though she tried to downplay it. As the day of my trip grew closer, I couldn't stop the panicked thoughts from swirling through my mind about whether she would be okay without me.

"You're overthinking again," her voice broke me out of my trance-like thoughts. My eyes looked at her chin resting on her crossed arms as her legs floated out behind her. I could see the appeal sailors had for mermaids, especially if they looked like this. The moonlight glinted off her wet hair as she treaded water in the pool. Despite her lighthearted tone, I sensed a touch of neediness in her gaze.

"What makes you say that?" I asked.

"Your eyes go wide when you're overthinking, baby," she said with a sad smile. I sighed, knowing she could read me all too well. As much as I wanted to be there for her, I couldn't pass up this tour. “Is it the tour, or is it the fans?”

"I'm sorry," it was all I could say as I stared into her eyes, filled with both understanding and hurt. I had never meant for this to happen. I watched helplessly as she shrugged her slender shoulders in resignation.

"It bothered me a little, but one fan post doesn't mean we’re outed," she replied softly. I knew she was trying to downplay it for my sake, but I could tell the constant spotlight on our relationship would take a toll.

My frustration boiled over as I thought of her boyfriend and fellow musician, Chris. He was just as famous, yet somehow avoided this kind of invasive speculation about his love life. I never saw headlines plastering his personal details across the internet for all to judge and comment on. It just wasn't fair.

I started to fume as I realized the steep price I was paying for my success. I had dreamed of fame and fortune my whole life, never fully grasping how it would impact those I loved most. Now here we stood: her identity and privacy stripped away, me helpless to stop it. 

All at once my anger came to a grinding halt, did she say we? I gave it a thought, pondering the idea that she was mine, obviously not entirely, but mine. The word "we" implies a togetherness, a uniting of two into one. 

I looked into her eyes, wanting desperately to believe her, to trust in the possibility of an "us". She gazed back steadily, affectionately, not recoiling from my anger but standing her ground. "Talk to me, baby," she cooed softly, and I couldn't help but smile, feeling the bitter tension in me unwinding. Her voice soothed me, as it always did, smoothing the jagged edges of my temper.

"So there is a we now?" I asked, still hesitant, keeping my heart protected. I needed to know if she was serious about this, serious about me.

"We, Us, whatever you want to call it," she replied without hesitation. She wasn't backing down or qualifying her words. She meant it.

"What do you call it?" I pressed her further, seeking reassurance.

"I call you my boyfriend," she stated plainly, simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And just like that, my doubts melted away. 

#bad omens rpf #noah sebastian fic #bad omens smut #noah sebastian smut #Chris Motionless fic #Chris Motionless smut #ricky olson smut #ricky olson fic #miw band #miw #chris motionless #chrismotionlessfanfic #motionless in white fanfiction #motionless in white smut #polyverse #scorpionandthescales #why choose

[miseries-mistress]

LOVE IN ITS MOST INTIMATE FORM | TECH

GIF by kamino-coruscant

Synopsis: you attempt to deal with Tech's injury while battling your own regret. 

Warnings: gender-neutral reader, SPOILERS FOR TBB S2 EP 2, injury, self-doubt, fluff, i think that's it. W/C: 1475

Notes: sorry this isn't the best, i am sick…again, and i feel like shit so forgive me. I will try to put something longer and better out soon, i just had to write something for these episodes. this was supposed to be out yesterday but i am having an issue with this post appearing in them after three separate occasions of reposting. it's annoying but oh well

star wars masterlist

You saw it coming. You fucking saw the crate slide downwards, you saw it, yet you couldn't move fast enough, you couldn't scream loud enough, you couldn't do enough as it collided with Tech's leg, sending his torso jerking back at an uncomfortable angle. 

Tech grunts in pain as the rest of you slam into the floor, the harsh metal biting viciously into your spine. It took a moment for the black splotches dancing across your vision to fade and for your ears to stop their incessant ringing. But when they did, Omega's voice was the first thing you heard. You scramble to your feet, helping Echo remove the crate from Tech's leg. Your hands shake all the while before breathing a sigh of relief when you finally get him out. Tech must have noticed your anxiety because he's quick to reassure you that he's merely fractured his femur. Although he does admit he's not okay, you're positive he's concealing the extent of the injury. 

"I will be just fine," he told you, but it's nearly impossible for you to believe him because every step he takes is with a painful limp; even with Echo supporting his weight, he constantly bites his lip to contain how much pain he's enduring for the sake of the anxiety building in your chest.

You would admire his endurance and resolve if it wasn't for such a foolhardy cause. 

Having emerged from the crash site and under the cover of whispering foliage, you let yourself catch your breath. Unfortunately, it was short-lived as Omega spotted movement not too far off.

"We're being followed."

The sentence, so simple and raw, sent a jolt of electricity down your spine, adrenaline roaring as your hands flew to your concealed blaster. The bushes to your left rustled with activity, and in an instant, yours and Echo's blasters were on the man, Omega's crossbow drawn back. 

"Don't move."

The man revealed himself as Romar and, upon further questioning and under the scrutiny of Echo's blaster, led you to his dwelling. The exterior was covered in faux grass, and the house's paint imitated the color of dirt to blend in with its surroundings. The interior, however, was much smaller than you imagined. The place was cluttered with crates of various sizes and shapes, with a workbench lined against the wall. In addition, a hole in the floor revealed a basement, more room for whatever Romar was housing. 

Tech collapses on a stool once you reach the threshold, placing his arm against the splintering wood of the workbench to relieve some of the pressure. You watch as he purses his lips, and a noise of discomfort muffled by his closed mouth does not evade your ears, much to his dismay. 

Your sole focus on Tech soon fades as an argument brews between Echo and Omega about whether or not to return to the chest, with Echo ultimately having the final word and sending her to watch over the man. She was frustrated, for reasons you did not entirely understand, which was evident by how she bitterly stalked away from Echo, her shoulders hunched in dismay, but ultimately he was right. It was too dangerous to return to the crate, and Tech's injury would make evading the empire even more arduous. 

A couple moments later, Echo escapes outside to alleviate some of the building tension, leaving the two of you alone. 

"Here, let me take a look at it," you offer him, taking a seat on a vacant stool next to him, but he gazes at you with something unfamiliar in his irises, hidden behind the thick goggles framing his sharp features. He pushes his goggles further onto the bridge of his nose, his honey-amber irises staring fixedly at you.

"I am quite alright, my dear. It is nothing I cannot manage," Tech dismisses aloofly, his hand waving to further put the matter aside.  

"I'll believe it when I see it," you defiantly cross your arms over your chest. Tech merely shakes his head at your persistence and tries to extend his thigh to you, but not before he doubles over, gasping at what you can imagine is excruciating pain. Tech grits his teeth as you elevate his leg on your lap. 

Silence settles thickly over the room, bursting with unspoken words and remorse like a heavy gas, engulfing the room in an instant with its toxic fumes. You can hear every raggedy inhale and exhale as he tries to regain his bearings, his hand clutching the table so hard you're afraid he's going to break it. His other hand grips his leg, the fabric balling beneath his fingertips. 

You gently place your hand over his, and he looks down at the simple point of contact, almost unsure of what to do next, while your expression morphs into something of concern. "Why didn't you tell me how bad it was sooner?"

"It was nothing to worry about. We had more pressing matters to attend to," Tech tries to reassure you, disregarding the matter once more, so instead, you squeeze his hand to gain his attention.  

"Tech, your health and wellbeing are important and take precedence-"

"-Our safety takes precedence, not a mere fracture. I have dealt with worse before, I assure you," he states bluntly. 

"But you shouldn't have to, Tech. If I reacted quicker, we wouldn't be in the kriffing situation." You remove your hand from Tech's in your frustration but his darts out to take yours once more. His thumb tenderly runs down the joints and knuckles in your hand in an effort to quell your self-doubt. 

"If you had reacted quicker, you would have taken the injury for me, correct?" Your eyes unglue from his, embarrassed by his ability to predict your train of thought so ably. But, unbeknownst to you, his eyes soften as they search the floor for the right words to convey his uncharacteristically disorganized train of thought. Tech wasn't accustomed to expressing his emotions in the common tongue or, really, in any way. Amidst the horrors of war, learning how to properly articulate feelings was never a concern. That was until you joined, and he had to learn to navigate the realm of his unseen emotions. Little by little, the words started to come more naturally to him, but reassurance…it wasn't a skill he'd mastered quite yet. 

"It is neither your nor my fault. Situations like these can occur without our involvement. It was out of our control, mesh'la. You must accept that and move on."

You take a moment to let the full validity of his words sink in. The cord of tension wound tightly in your muscles begins to unwind as your rigid posture relaxes. His words carry a hint of softness hidden under his matter-of-fact manner. It proves new meaning to what would be considered stiff advice to conveying that which cannot be put into words, a care, a worry, a feeling destined to be expressed by actions, not flowery language. His hand continues its path over yours. 

"I know you're right…but I just wish I could do more."

"Of course I'm right," he pauses for a moment at your chuckle, "but there is nothing more you can do without sufficient medical supplies."

You frown at Tech's response before calling out to the man tinkering about in the basement. "Romar?"

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Do you have a first aid kit?"

"Yeah, just give me a sec, kid." Romar emerges from the room and moves around a couple of boxes until he finds what you asked for. He tosses it to you, and you catch it with ease, sending him a grateful smile. He nods in return before descending the stairs once more. 

You set the kit on the table and begin working, your hands ghosting over his thigh as you use what's available to splint his leg. Tech is quiet most of the time. The occasional hiss or grunt is the only indication that he feels anything at all. You work in silence, and your thoughts can't help but wander off. You know that soon, you would have to depart from the house to reconvene with the other Batchers and return to Cid. And even though your lives and the conflict that followed it were fated to continue, you can't help but relish in the serenity of the in-between you're granted before all hell breaks loose.

#tech x reader #tech x you #tech x y/n #tech the bad batch #tech bad batch #tech tbb #tbb tech #the bad batch tech #the bad batch series #the bad batch season 2 spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #the bad batch s2 #the bad batch season 2 #tbb season 2 spoilers #tbb spoilers #tbb s2 #tbb season 2 #the bad batch #tbb

[leafofkudzu]

Hello again! I did say I was going to consider hosting more art parties if last month’s test run went well and, well, it did, so here I am again! Come one come all to [VS] Verdant Shield’s second ever monthly art party, this time with an expanded reach!

For those not in the loop from last month, what is an art party exactly? Well, they’re common occurrences in the Final Fantasy XIV community where artists of all kinds get together to chat, hang out, and create together! If a certain character catches your eye, you make some art of them in whatever way suits your fancy, then during or after the party post it under the tag for that party so others know where to look and spread the love around via reblogs/retweets/etc! I said it last time and it’ll always bear repeating - the ‘goal’ of attending an art party is not to be drawn, but to draw others, and share with the community! Attendees from last month’s party compared it to art jams, people watching, or attending a life drawing class with people you actually like. For more tangible examples, you can check back through the tag I intend to use for all of these monthly events - #VSArtParty - to see what previous partygoers have made!

I’m a lot less antsy about hosting these events now that I have a baseline, so much so that I want to involve those of you over on EU servers as well by hosting two rounds of parties, first on EU and then NA! However, I’ll still be keeping the squad(s) private and out of LFG to deter party-crashers, especially since this time we’ll be in a more well-known and easily-accessible location as the party moves Eastward into the Grove!

Check under the cut for details on how the event(s) will be laid out and how to reach the party location!

Welcome to the expanded details! First of all, the Garden of Dawn is the Grove’s worst-kept secret so I’d be surprised if you didn’t already know about it, but just in case, here’s a tl;dr on how to get there from Ronan’s Waypoint (aka the bottom floor of the Grove, you can drop down from Upper Commons Waypoint or Reckoner’s Waypoint to get to this starting point too):

Head North along the path towards the House of Aife PoI (not shown in the picture but you’ll see it on your map).

Take a hard left at said PoI and yeet yourself into this tiny pool that has a secret tunnelllll~

You’re here! It’s bigger than it looks in this picture but still relatively small, however I’ve attended events hosted here and can confirm that it can fit a lot of people, and also from last month I learned we don’t actually need a ton of space since we all squish up together to see each other anyway. However, if this space gets too crowded we’ll breach containment and relocate to a more public spot - very likely Starbower Nursery aka the little multi-level tavern on the South side of the map (it has its own PoI so it’s easy to spot)! If we do I’ll make sure to put the updated location in the squad message!

Okay! With that out of the way let’s get to the real important stuff.

This month’s event will consist of two separate art parties, each 3 hours long (though you’re welcome to stay later if you like), with a 1hr break in between so people interested in attending both can stretch, get snacks, etc etc.

The first party will be on EU servers and begin at 9pm Central European Time (that’s 3pm Eastern Standard Time for NA folks). I’ll be hosting it on my EU alt, so to join you can either whisper Aemryn of Dusk for an invite or type ‘/sqjoin aemryn of dusk’ in chat to join automatically!

The second party will be on NA servers and begin at 7pm Eastern Standard Time (that’s 1am Central European Time for any sleepless EU folks). This one will be hosted on my main account, and you can join by either whispering Kirslyn for an invite or typing ‘/sqjoin kirslyn’ in chat to auto-join!

Like I mentioned before the cut, we’ll be using the same tag for both of these parties as we did for last month’s - #VSArtParty - and I think that’ll be the one we’ll continue to use in the future for these! There’s no spaces so that it can be used on Twitter as well if you’re still over there!

That’s it for now! Expect to see this reblogged a few times between now and then, and I hope to see you all there for another fun time! ♥

#i was going to do 4hr + 4hr with no break in between but that's a lot of time with no pause so ahaha..ha... #anyway hi i didn't want to leave eu friends out since the last one was really fun! hope to see y'all there :D #if you aren't sure of anything i've said feel free to dm me here i wrote this at 1am so yeah #gw2 #guild wars 2 #obnoxious tourist simulator #vsartparty #📢🎨

[ladyluscinia]

Ok one last dip into "the Izcourse" before I take my own advice and pivot to rewatching S1 in prep and posting about what I love!

We get a lot of trolls, and harassers, and staunch antis looking to pick a fight with the "bad fans" who either drop bait or jump on people's posts to be annoying. That's the flame war part of all this mess. But we also get a fair number of posts from "neutral" people that I want to gripe about for a moment because at least the antis are misrepresenting "what Izzy fans believe / discuss" because they are actively against my take on the show for whatever reason. But it's more annoying to me personally when it's just... a lack of effort.

(And I've mentioned this before)

Like... a "neutral" observer weighing in on "The Izcourse" is a member of the general fandom who doesn't care enough about Izzy to really be an anti. Their perspective on the matter is coming from directly or indirectly following people in the antis' main meta circle. We know this, because just about every neutral person who was not from this background got classified as an Izzy apologist / problematic Edward thoughtcrimer and they are counted as in "the Canyon" now. We watched it happen a lot over the past year and a half. So the observer is not neutral, not really, but they probably aren't heavily blocking / blocked if they don't care and don't talk about Izzy.

Which makes it so frustrating when they feel the need to bring up "concerning" trends among Izzy fans and their interpretations and then they don't know what those interpretations are.

Like - in the most patient tone I can possibly manage - scrolling a bit of the Izzy Hands tag and taking fans squeeing about their blorbo as evidence there is no nuance in meta and too much babygirlifying here is dumb as fuck. Hell, even isolating a recent meta post and going "well I don't agree with this because XYZ" is still very much a "so what?" situation because that one person is not representing all Izzy fans? And also you still have a huge blind spot.

Because meta is - at its core - a collaborative structure.

You can't experience a particular branch of meta primarily through people vaguing or screenshotting and dunking on whatever looks the worst, then skim a little bit of a tag and be able to confidently call out what the "problematic trends" are. You can't even understand where the random meta you singled out is coming from, because you don't know which posts they've been looking at for over a year. And this is all really highlighted by the fact when you go to dissect that post you disagree with, you'll do it by just saying things that you understand to be established, well-defended facts from your own circle of meta and not back them up at all. Because in your mind you don't need to! And yet the post you're disagreeing with won't make sense because they are just assuming things and talking about this fanon version of Izzy you don't recognize. 🤷‍♀️

(This is why my typical meta post is linking to three separate discussions, lol. I'm building off of things said before like basically every meta writer, but I want those things referenced.)

If you aren't going to actually put in the effort to identify which blogs are the "major players" and then go back through tags or their popular posts or whatever to get an actual idea of what the meta structure Izzy Canyon has spent over a year discussing contains, then at least don't disparagingly comment on those people and discussions while lumping them into one "problematic" hive mind??? You don't know what you're talking about because you didn't care, and that's whatever. Just please stop confidently conflating random blog #7's generally happy post about how "i can't wait for my fave little guy to have friends 💕" with a concerning lack of discussions on Izzy's relationship with the crew.

My "#ofmd meta" tag - among others - is full of almost exclusively Izzy Canyon blogs writing complex posts about all sorts of things from romcom genre conventions to POC fans' takes on Edward's cptsd, and it's beyond annoying to see them repeatedly insinuated to have the depth of a puddle because the antis prefer to pile on a headcanon about Izzy reading and turn it into an insult to Edward's intelligence, and all the "neutral" blogs take it as gospel.

#i mean i do actually enjoy dissecting fandom dynamics a fair bit which is the only reason i weigh in as often as i do #if this was actually making me miserable or upsetting me i would just fully block and filter and never touch it again #but it is also varying levels of irritating so putting it on a backburner for now #pivot time! #the izcourse #ofmd harassment #ofmd meta #our flag means death #fuck it. main tagging. more people need to think about how meta works #fandom culture #ladyluscinia

[zero-max]

I keep forgetting I can post here but, I've recently been toying around with the idea of making some Miles centric au content, so here's what I've cooked up recently.

- Miles gets yeeted through the collider during the first Kingpin fight, and ends up stranded in a bizarre subsection of the spiderverse commonly known a the void (it kinda looks like the hologram Miguel showed Miles but on a larger scale)

- He's trapped in void the for the better part of 2 years (he's 16 instead of 15 during the main events of atsv now so everyone's aged up a tad and everything happens way letter than in canon)

-He ends up running into a being that refers to itself as "The System", a glorified sentient supercomputer created in the wake of the spiderverse to monitor it and protect it (so like what spidey hq does but to a terrifying degree) and contains knowledge related to the creation of the spiderverse and the origins of the spiderman mythos

- Miles winds up working for The System in an attempt to find a way home, and learns how to repair dimensional rifts, how to travel through different dimensions without using a watch and a handful of other things to make his dimension hopping shenanigans less painful

- He's still bitten here, so Miles gets all his cool spidey powers with some neat upgrades courtesy of the The System

- 1610 Peter doesn't die here so he takes over for Miles and helps Peter B and the others get home and stop Kingpin. Peter is constantly thinking about what happened to Miles and feels super guilty about letting him die (thankfully he's not but he doesn't know that)

- Peter ends ups working for Miguel (Migs is not too happy about it but he has to admit Peters good at what he does) and has frequent teams up with Peter B when he's not taking care of Mayday

- Miles pulls some vigilante shit in order to please The System, and ends up leaving the void semi frequently at it's request, since the spiderverse has been a bit more unstable than normal

- He remains pretty elusive for the first couple of months, mostly showing up near the end of fights to deal the finishing blow and leaves the anomalies for Miguel and co to deal with

- The System hates Miguel and his team believing they're meddling with things they shouldn't be and fucking up the spiderverse in the process (in reality The System really doesn't deal with any of the problems Miguel's team does opting out for only dealing with problems it deems worth its time)

- The whole Spot thing still happens, but Peter takes the fault this time and Gwen has to help him sort things out but by the time she tracks The Spot down he's already gone

- Miles saw the whole thing and it's by this point he's getting real sick of putting up with The Systems bs so he decides to find spider hq and help them stop The Spot on his own without it's help

- The Mumbattan fight is basically the same only Peter's there, but Miles shows up once the fights over to close the rift in Pav's dimension and is promptly dragged to spidey hq

- From there he's taken straight to Miguel who demands to know who he is and what's he's been doing hopping from dimension to dimension and getting in there way

- Miles doesn't explain much (he's looking worse for ware after fixing the dimensional rift) simply telling him they have the same goal and that he can help him defeat The Spot and stabilize their dimensions

That's about the most I have as far as concrete plot points go but, I'll potentially make a separate post that goes into more detail about Miles, The System and anything else I think is worth mentioning.

#across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderverse au #miles morales #peter parker #peter b parker #gwen stacy #miguel o'hara #hobie brown #pavitr prabhakar #atsv spoilers #spiderverse #this shits all over the place and I'll probably change some stuff as I go along #assuming i actually make a fic out of this in the future lol fingers crossed #but I'm proud of what i have so far and hopefully I'll get to do more with this in future #anywho I'll defo make some art of this pretty soon

[ask-squip-hq]

(( Thought I'd put together a little something to give some reference points to new folk around here! There's a full transcription below the readmore; now get out there, be respectful, and have some fun. Cheers! ))

Slide 1: RP TIPS CRASH COURSE!

Hello all! Given the recent spike of fresh activity around here, I wanted to give a few pointers & help make sure that everybody's on the same page.

Slide 2: First and foremost:

A concrete distinction between Mun (the person writing) and Muse (the character being written) is very important!

Your audience and writing partners are gonna wanna know whether a response is in character or not--if it isn't very clear, things can get a little confusing to read.

For example, I keep in-universe HRTech content contained within its own blog separate from my main--this helps keep things organized as well! And when I want to break the fourth wall, I refer to myself as the crew.

Slide 3: When writing with Strangers:

Always ask permission!

It's common practice to plan things behind the scenes with your friends--I do it all the time! But when it comes to other people you might be interacting with, you're going to want to make sure they're on the same page too.

As a general rule of thumb: if you want to involve someone else's character in a plot point or scene of your own, that character's writer needs to be a part of the planning process!

Slide 4: When writing with Strangers:

Having an askblog gives a writer the ability to easily choose what they want to respond to--no one's obligated to respond to anything after all, whether it meshes with their plans, or maybe they just don't feel like it. Who knows! It's just for fun at the end of the day.

While an in-character response doesn't necessarily count as permission from the writer to involve them in other narratives, you can always make an offer out-of-character; or send more asks!

Slide 5: Give and Take:

If you spot a blog doing something you think is cool or interesting, you can help them out by sending an ask about it! Don't worry, it doesn't need to be plot-driven, or even in character--you can ask what's going on, give a suggestion to a character, or even just prompt them for their favorite foods.

It's encouraging and exciting for writers; it shows them that people are interested in the stories they want to tell! When everybody is engaging with each other, everything becomes a lot more fun.

Slide 6: Ask etiquette:

Stuff you'll want to avoid:

-Sending unsolicited sensitive content; stuff like NSFW, gore, invasive questions, personal details, and venting should be avoided at all costs--an rp blog is not the place!

-Spamming; don't send messages to somebody over and over again, especially if they aren't responding to the first one!

-Introducing unrelated or sudden plot elements; collaboration is fun, but works best with planning--you wouldn't want to overshadow someone's story with yours on their own blog!

Slide 7: TLDR;

>Label in-character content for clarity

>Invite every relevant party to planning stages

>Engage with others and they'll do the same

>Keep troubling content out of shared creative spaces

Remember: when in doubt, you can always ask!

#/CREW #ADDITIONAL CONTENT

[ticklystuff]

Hiiii! Its a fire emblem anon here!!

Can I request for lee Sedall with ler Alear please? ✧⁠\⁠(⁠>⁠o⁠<⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠✧

For the spot, can it be tummy? Like yk how he's always like "I can't eat this it won't be good for my dancing? 😔" Maybe Alear is like "But look, your tummy is asking for attention, and if you don't give it what it wants I'll have to give it attention."

Hehe, thanks!

Also, I'm glad you enjoyed the game to some some extent, even though the plot n stuff has kinda mid 😭

send no more, thx!

wc: 1.5k

HEWWO THERE I FINISHED i am not sure about how this turned out bc i feel like they are ooc but i was so happy you requested a fe prompt and i had so much fun writing it askldjflka pls request more fe in the future

also accompanying seadall tummy image for the fic:

---

"Well, what does it say?"

Seadall put a finger to his lips, gazing over the cards that seemingly glowed with the faint light from the campfire. "Though your days may be filled with plight, let laughter bring merriment for tonight," Seadall recited the fortune laid out in front of him, before looking up to see Alear's disappointed expression from the other side of the cards. "What? You seem.. unimpressed."

Alear gave a huff as he put his hand to his chin, seemingly in dumbfounded thought. "I guess, I was just expecting something a bit.. more? Like, something to help guide me through the war, or maybe even something simpler, like what I should focus on when it comes to training. It just seems too straightforward, I suppose."

"You should lower your expectations, then," Seadall said with a shake of his head, gathering his cards back together. "Fortunes are not meant to provide all the answers you might seek. Just be content that it's not something more ominous."

"Maybe, uh," Alear paused, motioning to the deck of cards by flipping his hand repeatedly, "maybe try doing another one."

Seadall scoffed with a raised eyebrow. "I assure you that the cards will read a similar result."

"Please."

"Divine One-"

"I asked you not to call me that." Seadall couldn't help but roll his eyes at the slight pout that Alear's face adorned, but he complied with a smile.

"Alear," he corrected himself, "take the fortune as a sign to just relax and.. enjoy the night." Seadall gestured with his arms to the surrounding campgrounds. "As of right now, you and your comrades are well, the Somniel is safe, the night is at peace, there's plenty of food to eat-" As luck would have it, the sudden guttural grumble emanating from his own stomach cut Seadall's words off, prompting the dancer to quickly slap his arms over his abdomen. He grimaced at the smirk that began to form on Alear's face, his eyes shying away from the smug glint in Alear's own.

"Plenty of food to eat, yet that excludes you, for some reason."

"You already know why," Seadall pressed his arms into his stomach, suppressing another growl as Alear continued to nag him.

"I know why, but that doesn't mean I have to agree with it," Alear huffed, before reaching for the bag next to him. "Luckily for you, I brought something that might just appeal to your interests."

Seadall didn't get the chance to question what Alear might be referring to when the other pulled out a separate paper bag, before rummaging through the secondary containment, pulling out what looked to be a little golden brown nugget-

Rice croquettes.

His eyes widened at the tiny little morsel that Alear held out in the palm of his hand, gesturing for Seadall to take it in his own. "I know these are your favorite, so I had them made specially for tonight," Alear said with a little wiggle of his eyebrows, an obvious sign that he knew exactly what he was doing. Intrusive thoughts of the rice croquette began to invade his mind, starting with the satisfying crunch of the flaky golden exterior that contrasted perfectly with the soft rice filling, followed by the spice combination that came together to create an exquisite experience of flavors. He could almost imagine that initial crispy layer just barely gracing his lips-

"NO!" Seadall suddenly blurted out, ripping his eyes away from the dastardly temptation just within reach and shoving those unholy thoughts back into the recesses of his mind. "Keep that thing away from me!" Maybe his reaction was slightly over the top, but anything to distract Alear and himself from the ever growing rumbles that his stomach was insistent on producing in both frequent and louder quantities.

"But Seadall, I made these with you in mind," Alear half-whined with a tease to his voice, hobbling over on his knees with the food still in his hand. Seadall scowled in response as he continued to push away from the approaching threat. It was absolutely imperative that he maintain self-control, lest he risk losing the perfect physique he had built over the years to hone his dance prowess. Submitting to temptation could easily set him back an exorbitant amount of time and, not to mention, he already did have his cheat day this week, treating himself to some creme brulee with other members of the army.

"I-I cant!" he insisted, though, it honestly felt like Seadall was more scolding himself at this point. The back-and-forth between the two continued until Seadall finally took the initiative, slapping out his hand to knock the rice croquette of Alear's own, followed by a brief moment of silence as the two watched the piece of food briefly roll away along the grass. A sigh of relief slipped past his lips as he felt the temptation begin to slowly ebb away, but that feeling of ease was short-lived the moment Alear suddenly pounced on him, grunting in shock with the sudden weight pressing him to the ground. "Alear! W-What are you- nohohOHOhoho! W-Whahahat is thiHIHIhihis?!"

This was not how Seadall imagined the night would go, pinned down by the Divine Dragon himself as Alear.. tickled him? What made things worse was that Seadall's exposed stomach seemed to have gathered Alear's full attention, a victim to the onslaught of pokes and squeezes that were dished out. He shrieked with each jab to the bare skin, flailing his arms in a failed attempt to stop Alear in his tracks.

"DivIHIHIhine Ohohohone, plehehehase!" he shrieked, feeling the tips of Alear's fingers dangerously approaching his navel. Why tickling of all things?!

"It's Alear," he punctuated the reminder with a solid jab, forcing a squeak from Seadall's mouth. "Besides, your stomach is clearly craving some kind of attention and if you're not going to do it, then I'll just have to step in."

With tickling?! "NAHAHAHA! W-WAHAHAHAIT! COME OHOHOHON!" Alear's fingers acted as individual claws, digging into the toned stomach with various techniques. His pointer fingers sank into the recesses of his navel, sending what felt like electric shocks through Seadall's body, while his thumbs pressed into the skin, massaging various pressures of blunt force. The rest of his fingers seemingly had varying agendas of their own, from randomly diddling against his stomach to a more synchronized approach of poking. Each technique was already bad enough, but combined together absolutely sent Seadall up the wall. His laughter was an assortment in response, from bellowing shrieks to high-pitched giggles and Seadall was at a loss with how to deal with the overwhelming sensations, choosing to instead sit there like a half-dead animal, allowing his laughter to take over.

"Y'know, all you have to do is feed your stomach one of those rice croquettes," Alear teased, resorting to giving the bare tummy multiple squeezes with each hand. "Can't have my teammates going hungry, after all."

"PLEHEHEHASE!"

"Hmm? Please? As in please feed my tummy food?"

"NOHOHO- OKAHAHAY!" Seadall finally conceded, giving into Alear's demands. "OKAY! FIHIHIHINE!"

"You sure?"

YehehHEHEhes!" Alear's hands had slowed to a more gentle motion, but still kept up their pace, until Seadall had given his final confirmation. Once done, Alear beamed and lifted himself off of the dancer to grab the paper bag, leaving Seadall in his drained state to recover on his own. It didn't take long for the other to return, however, and Seadall finally sat up, looking wearily at the rice croquette offered by Alear's hand.

"Well, go on," Alear motioned with his hand. As if on cue, Seadall's stomach went off once more, prompting Alear to give another nudge with his hand and Seadall took the snack with a sigh. He watched as Alear sat down next to him, pulling another rice croquette out of the bag for himself, before taking a bite of his own. Seadall gave his own rice croquette one final look, taking the tiniest of bites.

The croquette itself was fine, though Seadall admittedly could do better. It wasn't fair to hold Alear to a fault, however, as the prince hardly had any time to practice his own cooking, but the croquette itself was of decent quality and Seadall himself wasn't complaining. The dancer found himself taking faster bites and the pang in his stomach slowly subsided, realizing that maybe he was hungrier than he initially thought.

"Hey, do you know what I just realized?" Alear asked between bites.

"Hm?"

"The fortune," Alear paused to swallow, "it came true!"

Seadall paused for a moment, giving himself time to recall what the other was talking about. "Though your days may be filled with plight, let..." he grimaced as he realized what Alear was referring to, "let laughter bring merriment for tonight."

"You're such a good fortune teller, Seadall!"

Seadall huffed and furrowed his eyebrows, crossing his arms at the smug grin Alear was giving him. "I'm never reading another fortune for you ever again."

#seadall #alear #fire emblem #tickling

[lorei-writes]

Winter Flower

Chapter XVIII: Victory

Masamune x OC [Hana] Summary: Hana wakes up in the gardens of Azuchi castle without any recollection of her past. Who is she? What was she doing there? And most importantly – what is she supposed to do now? Placed under supervision of Lord Date, Hana has to find her footing in the unfamiliar reality of the warring states. Series Masterlist

Content Warnings: none

“I don’t know,” I am quick to reply, fearing my throat may grow too tight the moment I stall. “But… I think that a man who loves you will go out of his way to keep you fed.”

The visit in the courtyard has not been repeated. Things have changed since that day, however, the table separating me from Tatsuoki remains unchanged, as are the teapot and the cups in our hands. Another coin is being flicked my way. That, too, is awfully familiar by now. I stare at it with wide eyes, put off by his bright smile. Right this instant, Tatsuoki is so radiant he could easily outshine the sun, although I would struggle to see his light as anything other than an omen. His joy casts shadows over me. I cannot tremble in front of him. I am not supposed to be the person who would.

I stare at the coin.

I’ve tripled the number of injured men. I know I have.

I don’t need to ask, but yet here I am, still hoping that I am wrong.

“What is that?”

“Your payment, of course,” he explains, chill licking at my very fingertips. I clutch onto the cup as if it was my lifeline, the hot liquid contained within it the only thing preventing me from freezing and shattering on the spot.

“I take I was of use then,” I say, striving to make my voice as nonchalant as possible.

“You were, indeed.” He lifts the cup up to his lips. Tatsuoki inhales sharply, deeply, as if to lure in the pleasant scent of green tea. He takes his time, the way he always does, savouring the experience before taking a sip, slender hands returning to rest over the table soon enough. Too soon, in fact. “You have done so well it would be fitting to reward you, flower. My first gift for you is knowledge: information does turn the tides of war around. Knowing how many men cannot stand to arms, one can adjust their own power accordingly. Once that is done, it is only a matter of time before the enemy is ground into fine dust.

“However, you have done exceptionally well in the assessment of your situation.” Tatsuoki takes a moment to think, staring at – past? – me with unfocused eyes. Hair falls over his forehead as he leans towards me. “It would not be generous of us if your contributions have not been appropriately acknowledged. My father has requested you join us for tomorrow night’s banquet.”

Cold heat erupts in my stomach. It comes as a surprise that I still manage to hold onto the cup, my body acting on its own to set it down, concealed stiffness nearly contorting my shoulders. Smile, me. Smile.

“Thank you. It is an honour.”

Tatsuoki nods. He knocks twice on the table. The door opens, and so, a familiar maid steps inside. Ai watches me for a moment, seemingly having forgotten herself, but she correct her behaviour fast. We are not supposed to have ever met, after all. She kneels on the floor, awaiting any further orders. However, I am the one Tatsuoki chooses to address.

“You ought to make yourself bloom. Take your time.”

I take it as my cue to leave. Ai follows my every step. That chatter of hers is completely gone as we walk down the corridors, however, it sprouts the moment we arrive at my quarters. My brows furrow by themselves, a large parcel lying over the writing table.

“What –”

“Lady Hana, you must have done so well,” Ai interrupts, hands pressed to her cheeks. Perhaps that’s her signature gesture. “Lord Saitou has never been as kind as to prepare a gift for anybody. Don’t worry about a thing. I will ready your bath in time, style your hair, I will even do my best with make up! He must have some big news to share,” she declares, starry sky reflected in her eyes, even though it is still bright outside. Ai puts her hands on my shoulders and pushes me forward, towards – what I assume – is said gift.

“B-big news?” I attempt to dig my heels into the ground, but the floor isn’t exactly receptive to such methods.

“Maybe he wants you to become his concubine?!” she whisper-squeals. Ha. Haha. I know I shouldn’t allow this, but derisive laughter still escapes through my nose.

Ai pouts, her round hazel eyes narrowing in hurt. With a certain sort of theatrically dramatic panache, she unravels the package with one swift tug, a purple kimono unfolding in her arms.

“What man would gift something so beautiful to a woman he does not love?!” Ai, apparently, specialises in whisper-speak and its many intricacies. Meanwhile, I lose all of the control I’ve so diligently upheld up until now and laugh again, openly now. Much to her – demonstrated by a thorough cheek rub – discontent.

“I’m fairly certain it doesn’t exactly work like so,” I offer to placate her, partially because I don’t want for her to rip my hair out later.

“Then how does it work, hm?”

I tap my chin and think back – back to my waking up at Azuchi castle, Shogetsu, rice, I and Masamune cooking late into the night, the cliff, our ride, the riverside, the way he held me when I could not sleep at night…

“I don’t know,” I am quick to reply, fearing my throat may grow too tight the moment I stall. “But… I think that a man who loves you will go out of his way to keep you fed.”

Ai rolls her eyes.

I know. I’m not much better than you… But I cannot afford to think about this right now.

***

I take a deep breath. A gust of cool evening air breaths on the nape of my neck, swaying the beads hanging off the end of the hairpin tucked in my hair. I do not look much like myself. I do not feel much like myself either. However, I am in control. Everything is well.

Things would be easier if I were asleep, so I walk down the corridor as if it was merely a part of my dream, various hazy twists and turns all ceasing to matter. There’s only one place I can reach just regardless.

The guards stationed in front of the banquet hall are barely a mirage. Jovial shouts coming form behind the door reach me only once turned into echoes, but even so, I force myself to approach them, to meet them straight on. I am invited to come inside.

The hall is large, tens of men sitting by the rows of long tables set to their absolute fullest. There isn’t a patch of space unaccounted for, roasted swans, wild game, pickled vegetables and rice leaving only so much room for the guests to dine. Should food not be scarce? Ha. This victory declaration leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

A guard pushes at my shoulder. I am led to my place, so I sit down. As expected, Tatsuoki is nearby. A single whisper falling from his lips is all it takes for him to appear next to me. He offers me a meal. I don’t know when it happens, but the cup in my hand is filled to the very brim.

I eat, even though nothing seems to have any taste; I drink, perhaps I drink too much. I’m not certain. I can’t exactly feel it, but Tatsuoki does send me a warning glance from time to time, so I opt to slow down. It doesn’t seem to exactly satisfy him, although he remains quiet.

The dinner goes on. Now that the stomachs have been filled, the focus of the event shifts to drinking and talks. I am being approached en masse (generals? Soldiers? I cannot tell who exactly are those people), so I pour an equal amounts of cups. However, few are willing to talk, and even fewer exchange more than just a couple polite words with me. It is odd, but even so… I am thankful for their brevity. The information – the distortions – I’ve disclosed is being brought up. The more I say, the more likely I am to be found out, and given the current situation… I’d rather not think about that.

I must have a rather gloomy face. It is not much of an issue, however. I can easily write it off as being made upset by their strange antics, or so I tell myself. Nobody should think much of it —

Somebody, or perhaps something, pulls at my hair. Strands previously upheld by the pin fall down my shoulders and as soon as I take a moment to look around, I realise why. To my left, there sits Tatsuoki, the ornament he has bought for me resting in the palm of his hand.

“Are you having a good time, flower?” he asks, candle light reflected in his irises reminding me of sun setting behind the curtain of low-hanging clouds.

“I am,” I assure him, although I regret not biting my tongue. Perhaps I could get out of here if I was not this eager to please. He seems to see it too, a chuckle spilling from his lips into his drink.

“I am happy to hear that. After all, this celebration has been thrown in your name.”

Shivers climb up my back. I don’t think that this is what I have been told before – and I am most certain I do not like the sound of that. “Oh?”

“Of course. Your reports on casualties suffered by the Date, their alliances, reinforcements, armaments… They were all invaluable. We expect for them to retreat before spring. Not one of Nobunaga’s underlings has the means necessary to besiege us for any longer than that.”

I think more people are listening now than before, although they do not seem quite right. Their eyes are not curious. They’re… mocking, but in this particular way when one tries to pretend they do not feel this way.

“My father in particular is grateful that you turned out to be a reasonable woman,” Tatsuoki continues, my attention being drawn towards the elderly figure sitting at the head of the table. I answer his grin with a smile, but somehow, that alone makes him all the more content. His eyes linger on me.

“I assume he would be delighted if you could talk in private.”

“I am unworthy of such honour,” I try. I raise my hands in front of my chest, yet it does not wield the results I have hoped for – instead, a bottle of sake is being forced into them. The men around us leave one by one, carried off by a cloud of snorts and hushed whispers.

Tatsuoki shakes his head. “Are you?”

“Of course.”

He does not reply, his hand reaching to ruffle my hair in place of words. His touch stays there longer, long finger combing through my locks to then slide to hold my chin.

“To think you’d become honest now.”

My heart raises to my throat at his words. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve known, flower. I’ve known all along.”

--

Series tag list: @cheese-ception @nuttytani

#masamune date #ikesen masamune #ikemen sengoku masamune #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikemen series

[restinsodaroni]

Hello I made my own small little thing in a google doc since I have to wait until I get approved on archiveofourown.org on the 23 , thanks for inspiring me ,I'll write more as time goes on thanks for making my interest alive again:))

Fic here : https://docs.google.com/document/d/11vCXbCxQDAWwiUpXUSno6wucNAhc2GXBD_d5b9hgFM4/edit?usp=drivesdk

Those who can't access it and still wanna read:

Familiar surroundings Au

Chapter 1: A new friend in the village ! :O

Note:this is my first ever fanfic ,after I saw "come be lonely with me" which inspired me to make this along with some other that I don't know the names of anymore,grammar things will be corrected along the way, also don't expect it to be too long, or updated daily, see the end for more notes:) also don't expect it to make sense;-;, and if restinisodaroni sees this idk what to think… (P.S. she is my favorite) .

Tags:sun(fnaf:sb), moon(fnaf:sb), reader is mentioned with nicknames only once with y/n, this contains some anxiety from me, sun/moon x reader, sun and moon are separated, sun is protective and careful, moon is soft but still a gremlin sometimes, your close to management of this place, this is called " familiar surroundings Au".

You just arrived at a village with a big daycare that somehow hosts animatronics? Ehh you don't really question it, looking around while in your car trees surrounding the road, you're nearly there. ____________________________

You are in a small grass field that cars appear to park in, so you do as well. You see the big house that has a sign reading" Superstar Daycare" it has a playground and lots of toys scattered around. Inside it seems dark. _______________________________

You enter the daycare and leave your bag on the near counter outside at the entrance then go in. It's very silent, the roof is filled with stars and a big moon, this place is really big for a small village. _______________________________

You wander around the daycare if you can even call it that, at first it looks bigger than expected, it has lots of clouds on the side and the floor is green like a field in the dark. You wonder where the animatronics in here are, you saw at the entrance two celestial-like cartoony figures that looked like a sun and a moon.

________________________________

Some time later as you wander around you hear creaks from the other side where the structures are and something lurking in the big area with bars. Later on you decide to go through a hallway with the sign saying "Naptime Corner", huh that is convenient if you wanted a quick nap as well from all the long driving.

You step in and see some children sleeping on the floor, and try to be quiet to not wake any of them… Putting the phone away was a mistake, you could've used its flashlight right now.

You hear a creek and turn around to meet with white eyes on a slender figure, before you yelp it wraps its arms on your mouth. "Don't be scared friend, we won't hurt you! ", it says in a low tone, you observe it has some rays around its head ,some fluff pants, and green bracelets on it's arms,and some leaves attached to its body in random spots,with some drawings on his face, then it has to crouch down to your level, of course…

_________________________________

After some time you calm down, and then it lets go of your mouth, finally. " Sorry for scaring you, heh, wasn't expecting you to come here so early, your job says that it's not time yet, why are you here? "It tilts its head to the side waiting for your answer.

…………

You sigh and say" Wait, wait, waittt, who are you? "Your question brings him out of his endless gaze" Oh how rude of me, I'm Sun, but you can call me however you want! " Sun… . Interesting not like it's original…. (-_-) .

"Well, Sun…..I'm y/n ,nice to meet you, " you pause then rub your neck"I'm just here to see this daycare before being your good ol' new kind of… management's helper? I don't know what to call myself, but please don't think I'd say something mean! ".Then there was silence…

"Oh don't worry ,I won't take it like that Sunshine! I already know you won't be mean! You look so cute you can't be mean! " Sun says to break the awkward silence, you then stare, never got a compliment, huh? . _______________________________

After a few moments another shadow appears behind him, must be Moon "Sun what are you doing? -" Moon growled then looked at you and chuckled "Oh they're here already? So early too? Must be really worried not to be late then! " it holds back its laughter to not wake up the children.

"Well what can I say, I'm only here to check everything out and make sure nothing's wrong" they looked at each other then at you again.

"You... You think we need your help? " Moon chuckled, "hey don't be like this! They're trying to do their job like us! " Sun added scolding Moon, but he just wandered off leaving you with Sun.

Sun turned to you "Sorry he's just really grumpy meeting new people, but he'll warm up to you in no time" he said looking rather awkward having to crouch. "And I'm sure you'll be good friends with everyone here! Even Moon! " he added. _________________________________

After some time you settled in, naptime was over and the kids woke up as Sun handed them energizing candy, then they started the fun for Sun to clean afterwards, tho just for like a few hours(3-4 hours) before naptime again since they tire out easily.

"Hello, Mr. Y/n! " Hearing a girl ,of course you introduced yourself already, you straightened up from the desk after you tried to read your book, "Hey kid? What is it? " you crouched down and patted her head "Can you draw with us? Pleaseee? " she begged you literally, you couldn't refuse "Okay I will! " You chuckle and follow her to the kids tables, the chairs are too small so you cross your legs. "So what do we draw today? " you say as you wait "Whatever you want Mr. Y/n! We just wanted to include you too! Celestia said she saw you looked pretty lonely, and also my name is Maria! " she said ,quickly handing you some crayons.

"Well Maria I'll draw something with you ,but after I'll go back to my shift, okay? " she nodded, you start to think about what you'll draw. Got an idea, you draw a Sun over a cliff and some ocean waves. ___________________________________

"Okay I'm done, let me see yours too! " you say and she nods, then you flip them to each other to see, she drew you and Sun holding hands"Look Mr. Y/n I drew you and Mr.Sun together! " she chuckled and you did as well, how cute that is.

You see Sun being tackled by some kids, then excuse yourself and get up, approaching him, you hear kids saying things like "Yeah, put it there too, and that one there! ".

You stop a few feet from him, he is full of stickers all over his body, you sigh and raise your finger "Now, kids, that's enough, I'll take care of it, now go play something not including this! " you scold them, and they all go in different directions, you see Sun has stickers over his eyes too, heh. "Hey, there bud, need some help? " You say and peel off some stickers from his face plate, he looks confused, you're pretty close, how doesn't he mind?...

"Oh, yeah thanks Sunshine! You're really kind! " he says, making you feel some butterflies, after a minute you snap out of it and get up.

"Oh, no problem Sunnyboy, just don't let them put stickers on your face again, it looks bad , heh" you say as he gets up.

"Oh dear, I'm not the one to ruin the fun! They just wanted to! So I let them! " oh so that's why huh? "Well it's still no excuse, it's hard peeling them off, even from your rays" you added, seeing the stickers on one of the sunrays.

________________________________________

Note:yes cliffhanger ,sorry but I don't wanna go over 8k words from the first chapter as it's just a plan for now, but next chapter will have 7k-10k words so no worries.

Also Sun is pretty silly ngl, and yeah next chapter you meet Moon!;)(during naptime ofc) How will that turn out huh?

Also this takes inspiration from my village house that is also big , and had to write it to get it off my mind as I've been preparing it for a month now, bye! Have a good night/day!

Awww this was a cute read!! Thank you so much for sharing your first chapter with me!! Sun just being super sweet is adorable lol. Hahaha Moon already trying to be difficult 😂 that's nice of you to say I inspired you (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) I hope you have lots of fun creating your fic! Ao3 is a funny place where you have to wait to get on lol. In the meantime, happy writing!! 💫

#restinsodaroni ask replies #gif warning #other folks' lovely writings

[mintymemesandrpshop]

Tips from a grocery worker/foodsafe certified waiter!

The temperature 'danger zone' for food and drink is 40-140F, with 2 hours being the limit without refrigeration/cooking.

Open container, Public Intoxication, and Driving Under Influence are all separate broken laws. Establishments that serve alcohol in the US are required to cut you off the moment you are visibly drunk. 'Open container' can also be a misnomer and vary by state- bottles and cans in anything less than a glued blox may need to be in a bag.

Raw flour has E. Coli bacteria, factory farmed eggs will have salmonella due to poor hygiene (sitting in their own shit).

Speaking of eggs, grocery eggs are 2 weeks old due to needing to properly settle to a baking standard. Eggs from a local farmer may be safer, but will also be somewhat different and not have enough air for baking until they are also that age.

Steak is safe to eat rare due to its thickness and proximity away to any nasties in the body waste; hamburger is not. Burger is ground up with various cuts and intestines so needs to be cooked properly well done. Chickens are too small to have this effect, so salmonella is a risk no matter what. Pork is somewhat in between, as there is a risk for trichinosis, but the larvae are much easier to spot, making this start to go extinct in domestic pigs.

Dogs and Cats in general cannot have spices or seasonings, grapes, chocolate, or milk.

Most creatures are lactose intolerant due to the fact that they will not grow up into 1000 lb animals. Goats however, are closer to human size so their milk and cheese is more digestible. Smaller animals will need dilluted goat's milk, into a custom formula. (your grocery store may have this in a can, powdered.)

Pasta noodles mainly exist to hold sauce flavor in proportion; thicker noodles like rotini are usually recommended for thicker sauces such as tomato/marinara.

It is safer for pizza chefs to not wear gloves, actually! Gloves cannot be washed, only changed, and they are trained anyways to not touch someone's food once cooked. Cooking trays/pans, industrial sized knives, spatulas, and boxes all make this possible.

Humans are very dense and weighty creatures proportionally, that they can essentially tank a lot of poison damage that other animals cannot. This is one of many reasons we are not picky eaters as a whole!

Kids instinctively dislike bitter foods due to not having grown up into this said tankiness; vegetables and things that may be good for them can taste like poison, and they cannot tell the difference yet.

Electric Kettles are more efficient at boiling water than stovetops. I'll let the video guy speak for himself, but they boil water directly rather then heating a pot/pan which then heats the water. This is great for things such as small meals, partially unclogging drains, or heating bathwater.

Keurig or similar machines do not boil the water for your coffee! They heat to 100 degrees, so if your town has a boil order up, do not pour unboiled water into their tanks!

Large packs of water and soda often have bar codes on the top- you may not have to lift them if a laser-gun can get involved!

chicken nuggets from the golden arches are beer battered, the way fish are. They're fish-fried chicken.

Grocery Register Belts can have some really dumb design- with the computer /register itself taking up half the width of the goddamn belt. Keep your food safer by loading the belt heavy to light if you can- or light to heavy. Also, putting your food in a straight line towards the checker. You cannot trust the infared camera to stop the belt unless your items are opaque- your beer will crush your bananas in front of them unless they can slide over the scanner zone. You will prefer a fixable scan error until we can perform alchemy.

Fruits and Vegetables have 4 digit international trade codes! unless you know what breed your apple is or are bad with numbers, these are probably easier to input if you happen to be ringing these up yourself. It is perfectly possible for a self-check system to sell you the wrong kind. Same thing with the numbers on a bar code- they also work, if your code is faded or corrupted. (or, for whatever fucking reason a brand decides, light colors like silver, or cute shapes. those suck. looking at you, bud fucking weiser with your fucking ribbon.) The laser guns are a bit more accurate than the belt as a second resort.

#psa #food #long post #food safety #ask to tag

[tavore-paran]

Gold Star

Summary: Imp steals the star off the tree.

I borrowed the idea for calling the holiday 'Lightmas' from the fic my dear friend Kit wrote me last year.

~

Even after night had fallen, Imp waited a couple hours before venturing out. He crawled through the vents to the central hall, pausing at the grate to peek through. As expected, the room was empty, quiet, and dark. The Lightmas tree stood majestically off to the side where Entrapta’s servants had put it up earlier that day. Like the ones the Horde soldiers had put up every year at the Horde base, lots of little differently coloured glass bobbles hung off its branches. But unlike the trees the Horde soldiers put up and decorated, this one was huge and had a giant shiny star on top, bigger than Imp’s head.

Unable to wait any longer, he pushed open the vent grate and crawled out and onto the wall and down to the floor. He scampered over to the tree, pausing as he reached its base. Always before he had been happy to take only a low hanging bobble or two, this year though, with a bigger prize available, such would not do. And so he started climbing, carefully lest the tree shake too much and cause the ornaments fall off and break. The pine needles pricked his hands, sometimes quite painfully. It was worth it though so he kept going until he reached the top.

The star stayed in place atop the tree via a small base funnel that contained the tree’s top branches. Imp grasped that and lifted it off. As predicated, it was heavy, indicating perhaps that it was made of real gold. Unfortunately that made it difficult for Imp to handle. There’d be no holding it securely in his mouth while he climbed back down. His options were to either drop it and hope it didn’t get damaged from the fall or to keep hold of it and jump off. He chose the latter. His fall and subsequent landing were not graceful but he and the star remained unharmed.

Now came the hard part. He couldn’t do his crawling up the wall trick and keep hold of the star at the same time. This was why he’d waited until night though to reduce the chances of getting caught as he dragged it back to his room. If he did run into anyone, they’d steal the star back for sure. With Hordak no longer being the leader of the Horde or anything else, that brought Imp’s status down too; he wasn’t allowed to get away with as much stuff as he’d had before. There wasn’t much he could do about that other than hope there’d no night owls up and about wondering the halls.

The castle was thankfully empty and quiet. It was starting to look like he was going to make it home free. And then he turned into the hall that contained the room that had been designated as his. Even despite the darkness, there was no way Entrapta could miss him.

She came to a stop in front of him. “Oh, hi, Imp. I’d ask if you’re having trouble sleeping too but I doubt that’s the case. You need some help with that?”

“Help,” he played back at her in her own voice. What did she mean ‘help’? Surely, as head of the castle she’d object to having her tree’s star stolen.

Apparently not understanding that it was a question, Entrapta didn’t answer as part of her ponytail separated out to wrap around Imp and lift him off the ground. Another from the other ponytail took the star from him. So she was taking it back. He’d been so close too.

She carried him the rest of the way to his room. “Where do you want the star?” she asked as she gently deposited him in his nest made from the blankets atop the bed.

So… she was okay with it? Well, Imp wasn’t one to question good fortune. “Table,” he played in one of the servant’s voices. He’d cleared a spot for the star on his treasure table earlier, right after watching the servants put the tree and star up and deciding he wanted it.

She placed it down in that exact spot, evening balancing it so it’d stay up right. “There you go. Merry Lightmas.” And with that, she trounced back out, closing the door behind her.

Imp stared after her for a few seconds before turning to admire his new star. It was his largest stolen trinket since he’d had to abandon his old stash in the Fright Zone. Though perhaps it was bigger than anything he’d had back then too. Regardless, seems he could get away with some stuff after all, just as long as it was Entrapta or Hordak who caught him. Yet another reason to like her.

#my writing #shera #entrapta #imp #12 days of xmas 2022

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

In the Past

You’ll have to humor me as I fill in backstory for my own amusement.

https://www.patreon.com/empyreaniris?fan_landing=true

https://starr-fall-knight-rise.tumblr.com/post/182501791735/master-post

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jzEIdDAB4omdO2JcQVMObfrhLJ5kX4ONmSsLypM1ks0/edit?usp=sharing.\

Several Years Ago

The town was small and cold with entirely too much open land, simply vast swaths of scruff field that just sat there unutilized for either housing or farmland. The sky was gray and the ground was dusted in a light layer of snow that turned much of the remaining plant life gray or brown. What little city there was didn’t amount to much, its tallest buildings reaching no higher than three to four stories give or take a few levels. Ramirez was used to an altogether different caliber of city, the kind where they tend to build up and not out, with multilevel city building blocks that were taller than they were wide and reached higher than the cloud cover. This little town was something out of the movies, an old relic of the way things had been done in the past. Single level houses sat on open tracks of land spaced unevenly apart separated only by the soft shimmering of energy fences.

He took a corner following his GPS through the cold morning, glad only for the fact that his car didn’t have tires and he didn’t have to worry about potential black ice lurking under the surface of the snow, which glazed the pavement with a light dusting, like a powdered doughnut. The neighborhood he entered was small and rundown, populated primarily by cheap rundown  houses mass produced on an open market and at least a century behind modern urban planning. Snow still dusted the ground here, browning already scruffy lawns. A few of the houses didn’t even have energy fences and were forced to settle for chain link/

A rather miserable looking pitbull barked at his car as he passed by fro behind the chain link, his paws leaving prints in the snow. The neighborhood was mostly quiet, a sad sort of reminder of where life tended to lead some people. The neighborhood seemed tired, just like the few people Ramirez noted peeking through their curtained windows lording over castles of cracking cement and splintering plaster.

It was all rather depressing.

He wasn’t sure if this was the right place.

He glanced down at his GPS again.

Your destination is on the right.

He pulled to a stop, examining the little house, squinting as if he could garner some clues as to the truthfulness of the GPS.  The house itself was, again, small sandwiched on either side by one energy barrier and one chain link fence. The house on the left was clearly a hoarder’s den, with items practically spilling out fo the windows and onto the front lawn, including several old bicycles, a ton of children’s play equipment, and a sagging rusted swing in the background that likely hadn’t been used for several years if at all,  sagging there quietly in the soft morning dusting of snow.

However, this house was relatively well put together.

It was something his mother might have even called homey or cute. There were no cracks in the sidewalk, and the lawn looked like it might have been rather well maintained. The house itself was freshly painted sometime in the last year, and there was no visible unk in the yard.

He shrugged and pulled into the Driveway cutting the near quiet engine, and reaching into the backseat for the basket his mother and abuela had sent him with. Some of it was for his long trip, which had taken well over ten hours, but some of it was for his housewarming gift, “If I know young men.” His mother began, “They’ll be eating boxed noodles and very few vegetables, so it’ll be your job to feed them while you are there.” He brought with him some of his mother’s cooking in sealed cooling containers, and a boat load of pastries, which had taken him gargantuan effort not to simply eat on the spot. If needed he could make his own, no son of his mother or grandson of his Abuela could manage to grow up without knowing how to properly feed himself, but still there was a high likelihood these poor sods wouldn’t have half of the ingredients required.

Including about ninety percent of the spices.

Ramirez stepped softly out of the car, with the basket over one arm and into the blistering cold. A puff of mist rolled out from his nose as the cold stung his cheeks. He shuffled his feet awkwardly in the snow. It had been a while since he had seen his friend, heard about what happened and wasn’t sure how to behave.

What would Adam be like now?

Back on the enterprise he had been a ball of energy, a radiant spark of personality, but war does strange things to people.

He made his way up the little sidewalk and onto the porch.

He didn’t bother to knock when he saw the doorbell monitor and instead blew it a kiss for his own amusement.

The door clicked eventually and then opened.

At first he thought the man standing before him was Adam, but had to doubletake a second later. Not Adam but definitely a close relative. 

There were two ways to deal with meeting new people, you could be awkward or you could be fun, ramirez always chose fun, “I was told you and Adam looked alike,” He grinned “I’m sorry for your loss.” Then he held out a hand, “Thomas right.”

HE worried for a moment the opening had been too much. Open a man’s door and insult him immediately, but Thomas smiled warmly, “And I thought you’d be taller.” 

Touche, the man could play.

Thomas Vir was a little shorter than his brother, with blond hair tousled in an unruly mess around his face, like it hadn’t been cut in a few months. He was thin, and probably handsome were it not for the slightly gaunt look on his face. Ramirez didn’t know the specifics but had heard through adam at one point that Thomas struggled with a drug addiction at some point.

He had been assured that Thomas was no longer using, but that sort of thing tended to stick around for a while.

“Come on in, before you freeze anything important off.” Ramirez was all too eager to oblige and stepped into the little house which was nice and warm. Firelight flickered from a rather antiquated stove thing in the far corner of the room, but it added a nice ambiance. Christmas lights were strung with tinsel rather drunkenly around the room, but it was cozy enough, and the room itself smelled like cinnamon and cloves.

Hesniffed at the air, “Making a pie or something.”

Thomas snorted, “I wish, but no, our mom gave us these melty candle things because, and I quote, “This place smells like feet.”

“Which is funny because we have only seventy five percent of the average amount of feet we should have.” Ramirez turned at the sound of the second voice to find A familiar face standing in the hallway. He grinned and brightened up, setting down his basket and walking over to pull his friend into a crushing embrace. Adam huffed and then laughed, patting Ramirez on the back.

“You’ve packed on a couple pounds.”

Ramirez set him down, “Of muscle, which you seemed to have lost beanpole.” And it was true enough, Up close he was able to get a better look at his friend who, when they had last seen each other had had significantly more muscle than seen here. Over the course of whatever had happened, Adam had lost an unusual amount of weigh, making him and his brother look even more similar. Adam’s hair was cut much shorter, but he had the same gaunt face. He was wearing a T shirt, and shorts, which Ramirez couldn’t help but note the shiny metal prosthetic. In silver and black.

How to handle this?

Ignore It?

Or engage?

He had briefly dated a few people with disabilities. A girl in a wheelchair who was in a word “Freaky.” and this really cute Korean guy with half an arm. Each of them had different opinions on the subject. Eun had preferred people just ignore it, while Wendy preferred it if people engaged her and asked her questions.

It was hard to judge.

So he pulled back and held his friend at shoulder length, “Ok first things first, how do you want me to proceed?” always better to ask,

Adam understood the question without needing to be told.

“However you want. I don’t care.”

So Ramirez did taking a good long look, “Hot damn, that is both unfortunate and mega cool. This makes you a cyborg you know.”

Adam grinned, “I know, pretty awesome when you get over the losing a leg thing.”

Ramirez leaned in closer to get a better look, “Thisbitch even has toes, that's a bit freaky, why would it have toes/”

Adam snorted, “Well as it turns out Toes are rather important for balance. At least the big toes anyway, besides, you need feet to sell feet pics on the internet.”

Ramirez laughed in surprise, “Is that the world's biggest prude making a foot kink joke?”

From where he leaned against the counter, Thomas snorted, “I’ve been working on him.”

“Good, he needed some help.”

Something cold and wet touched Ramirez on the hand, and he almost leaped out of his skin, looking down to find a dog standing at his side. He hadn’t even heard her when he came in, didn’t even see her, which was weird because dogs usually barked at things, especially german shepherds as far as he was aware. She tilted her head to the side to look at him in interest.

“Well hello, who is this?”

Adam smiled, “Oh, that’s my service dog, Waffles.”

“Aww how cute, they gave you a mandatory best friend.” Ramirez teased, “May I.” 

“Yeah go ahead, she's not working.”

Ramirez knelt down and held out his hand for Waffles to sniff. She stuck her cold nose against his hand, tail wagging slowly back and forth before nosing his hand. He took  that as a good sign and reached out to rub her ears with both hands, “Well hello, aren't you a pretty girl.” Her tail thumped against the couch, “Oh young think so.” He rubbed her ears some more and then stood, “Well I bring food, which knowing you guys you probably need.”

“That’s a given.” Adam said with a smile.

Ramirez was all too eager to unpack his food, and before long the three of them were sitting at the cramped little dining table, waffles sitting underneath as they talked, 

“So what do you plan to do now?” Ramirez asked as he took a sip of water.

“Well I….” Adam began, “I was thinking about maybe…. Talking with Captain Kelly. See if they can get me back in.”

Ramirez snorted into his drink and looked up with a raised eyebrow, “Dude are yo usure about that.”

Adam nodded, “Prosthetics are super advanced now. I can feel and run and walk normally, so there’s no reason they should say no.”

“I mean but do you want to.:

There was a pause and Adam nodded, “I think I do.”

Ramirez paused and raised an eyebrow, “Like go back to space….. What fi you meet one of those scarabs again. Are you going to be able to handle it.”

He noted the drain in Adam’s cheeks as blood fled from his face.

But he kept his composure clenching tightly to his form. Thomas eyed him with concern, and Waffles grunted as she pushed herself upright and came to rest her head on Adam’s human leg. He patted her with his off hand but took another long, deep breath,

He glanced down at his glass.

“I…. think so.” He stared at the water for a long time, “Besides I turns out we weren’t exactly saints.”

Now that was something Ramirez wanted to hear though it would take a few late nights for the story to come out.