#growing up as a weirdo then got a glow up >>

[aweina]

it’s funny how my friends say that i’m different from what they initially thought. like yes you didn’t expect to be friends with a weirdo who likes to listen to men whimper and write foul smut.

#.( _ _ ) z z #if u seen me irl i think it’s understandable #growing up as a weirdo then got a glow up >>

[dr3c0mix]

Infernal Infatuation

Demon x Gn Reader

I've had a little idea for a while but never managed to write it out. This is gonna be a 2-part fic so better strap in folks :)

CW: murder, gore, shit friend-group, brief mention of animal slaughtering, demonic themes

🔥 You cursed yourself as you sat uncomfortably squished between the car door and one of your friends who didn't even awknowledge your distress.

🔥 Why did you have to listen to your friends? Why did you agree to their text about joining them in trying to perform a "cool demonic looking ritual" they found online? Why is this car so sticky???

🔥 It was loud and generally overwhelming inside the car, blaring music was coming from the speaker, everyone was moving around and singing along to the songs at the top of their lungs, and it looked almost 2am from how dark it was.

🔥 Your friends figured that you all could get in trouble if you performed their little "game" where lots of people could see and decided to drive out somewhere along the highway that had little to no people passing through, especially during that time of day.

🔥 One of your friends, Justin, remembered an old abandoned warehouse that was near and unmonitored, the perfect place to mess around.

🔥 The car turns and drives off the road, rolling along a bumpy terrain as you can see the warehouse grow closer as the car's headlights illuminate its rusty exterior.

🔥 An uneasy feeling grows within your stomach as everyone gets out of the car laughing and checking out the building. You can't keep your eyes off it as its old walls held a sense of dread and doom.

🔥 Audrey, the one who asked you to join, wrapped an arm around you and laughed. "What are you doing you weirdo? C'mon! We got a monster to summon!" She jokes as she catches up to the others. You sigh and shake off the last bits of fear in you.

🔥 Audrey takes out her phone and reads the instructions for the ritual. Your other friends helped in lighting candles, drawing the pentagram and sigils while Justin recorded everything, laughing like it was some everyday prank. You just sat there, getting more and more concerned about the situation.

🔥 You ask Audrey if you could leave, the scene getting a bit much for you but she scoffs, calling you a pussy. Your brow furrows and you sit back down, very hurt by her comment.

🔥 Once everything was set, everyone stood around the pentagram. You join hands as Audrey reads out the chant, Justin still snickering to himself behind his phone.

🔥 "Oh yeah, it says everyone has to make a blood sacrifice of something but we got that covered." Audrey laughs and pulls out a jar of blood from the duffle bag she brought. Apparently they just took the blood from a pig and settled on it, but you feared about the consequences of cheating the ritual so you take a small knife you carry around all the time for self defense and cut a tiny slit in your finger, you drop it in the center while everyone carelessly pours the pig's blood in.

🔥 Everyone goes silent before a low rumbling is felt in the ground, like the earth itself was pulsing.

🔥 Suddenly, the candles are blown out, the smoke from the wicks swirling around the center of the circle as the ground shook violently. Everyone but you start exclaiming in astonishment like it was a magic trick in a circus.

🔥 You step back as the swirl of smoke forms into somewhat of a humanoid shape. The pentagram starts glowing red as the smoky figure opens its pitch eyes, the smoke dissipates to reveal what looks like a man, his grey skin was scattered in black tattoos that covered his arms and back as well as parts of his face. He had ghostly white hair that framed his sharp face perfectly. His tail swished behind him what went from his skin's grey to black the closer it got to the tip. He blinks and white pupils appear in his black eyes. He wore nothing but dark red pants that was held up by a rope or ribbon that was secured along his waste.

🔥 He looks at everyone as your friends all had mixed reactions, some were screaming their heads off while others were laughing and cheering over how their little trick worked.

🔥 Audrey in particular, was ecstatic, taking pictures of the demon as it stared at her.

🔥 "Oh my god, I didn't know he would be so hot!-" She was about to place he hand on his chest when he grabbed her wrist. She yelped and tried to let go but his grip was as strong as iron.

🔥 She starts screaming and trying to push him away while everyone else laughed at the scene. You could only step back and watch as Audrey continued yelling at the boy to let go of her, now scared out of her mind.

🔥 The dreaded ringing of laughter stopped all of a sudden after a loud, wet crack. Blood gushes out of Audrey's arm as he steps back from the grey man, you shake as you still see her now ripped off arm still in his grip.

🔥 Your friend's laughter is replaced with screams as the demon kills off your friends one by one, you run off and take cover behind an old truck in the warehouse while you hear the gruesome sounds of flesh ripping and your friends' screams diminishing with every life taken by the monster you summoned out of pure stupidity and recklessness.

🔥 The sounds stopped for a moment before you hear the sound of footsteps slowly coming towards you. You cry silently, praying to whatever was watching over you to help you, for a saving grace, a miracle, anything to get you out of there.

🔥 Your eyes blink open as you see the man kneeling down at you with wide eyes, the blood of your friends getting absorbed into his skin, giving his eyes a redder tint. You close your eyes, tears falling down your cheeks as you wait for your painful death.

🔥 But it never came.

🔥 A soft touch to your wet face makes you flinch as the demon coos at you and wipes away your tears, rubbing your cheek.

🔥 "Why are you so sad Master? Your sacrifice was much appreciated."

🔥 He spoke with a soft, sultry voice. You stutter out a "What?" as he cocks his head.

🔥 "Yes, those lowly creatures were very annoying, but their blood was the greatest gift I've ever received, such generosity deserves just service, right?" he smiles.

🔥 You were confused; Master? why would he be calling you that? Still frazzled by the events that happened to you, you stood up and started walking away, the moments you've witnessed still not sinking into your soul yet.

🔥 The demon stays where he was a bit longer before catching up to you, still smiling like he didn't just kill 5 people right in front of you.

🔥 "Are we going to your abode, Master? I'd be happy to carry you, you seem a bit exhausted." He said, going in front of you and offering his arms.

🔥 You laugh nervously at him, "N-no! No heheh.. uhm.. I'm fine walking to the car.." You walk by him, as his elvish ears perk up. "Car? I've never been in a car before!"

🔥 Now here you are, driving back to your house in blood-soaked clothes in your now dead friend's car with a demon who was busy sticking his tongue out of the cat window like a giant dog.

🔥 The silence was unbearable as the uneasiness of having such a dangerous creature next to you swallowed you whole, you didn't bother turning on music as he tried turning the dials and broke it.

🔥 "So..uh...why didn't you kill me? I know I'm your 'master' now and all but uh...Why not the others?"

🔥 "You really didn't know how it worked? Well, those idiots took a dumb shortcut and offered the blood of an animal. You, Master, generously gave your own blood for me, speaking of which.." He takes your hand that had the cut and licked it. You pull back your hand in disgust and try to carefully rub off the saliva but find that your finger no longer hurt. You look at it and see the cut fully healed, not a scar left.

🔥 You look at the demon who gave you a toothy smile and sighed.

🔥 "So..what do I call you?"

🔥 "My name is Dorik! May I know your's, Master?"

🔥 "Uh..I'm (Y/N).."

🔥 "What a fun name! (Y/N)..I like it!" He turns his head back to the window and giggles at the wind in his face. You couldn't help but giggle at his cute behavior. Looks like you have a new companion for a while...

🔥 Oh my god your friends are dead...

#yandere x gn reader #yandere x reader #oc yandere #yandere #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere male #tw yandere #x reader #yandere x male reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere demon x reader #yandere demon #demon #demon x reader #demon x human #monster boyfriend #monster smut #monster x human #monster lover #monsterfucker #monster #teratophillia #terato #terat0philliac

[sarahghetti]

direction to perfection; j.l.

pairing: jake lockley x reader, marc and steven are briefly alluded to but do not make an appearance

summary: one day, your vigilante lifestyle leads to you to crossing paths with a moon-serving weirdo in white bandages. jake promises that he won't get in the way, but there's something about his smirk that has your spidey-sense tingling, and what do you know—

he sets a building on fire.

it's not supposed to be romantic.

warnings: depictions of fighting and violence, injuries, hurt and comfort, reader is a spider-person and thus has a spider-person sense of humour😭.

word count: 3.8k

notes: part of the @MOONKNIGHT-EVENTS bingo! prompt: “'bonfire”

MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST | ALL MASTERLISTS

You have a love-hate relationship with your spidey-sense—it’s useful enough to give you a heads-up, but it’s not exactly a get-out-of-danger-free card.

It kicks in as you’re soaring through the air, an errant pulse in your veins that tells you one thing: MOVE. But there’s no time—before you even manage to lift your web-shooter, one of Doc Ock’s mechanical arms whips around and collides hard against your torso. For a moment, you feel your ribs crack underneath the metal, the sharp pains accompanied by a real stupid thought, even by your standards: guess I’m going to call in sick tomorrow—

—and then you finally hit the brick wall behind you. The air is ripped from your lungs and your thoughts short-circuit into nothingness. New York’s evening rush hour is drowned out by high-pitched ringing. If it weren’t for your wallcrawling ability, you’d be falling forty stories down onto the traffic below. Instead, rooted into the small crater you’ve made into an office building, all you can do is languish in what surely must be multiple broken bones and a slightly bruised ego for not being able to dodge a hit that you saw coming.

Speaking of—there’s another one heading towards you right now.

You leap upwards without a second thought, just narrowly avoiding becoming a shitty claw-machine prize as the arm lodges into the wall where your head used to be. Spots dance across your vision and you groan—your body does not want to move.

Suspended between two buildings, Doc Ock’s mechanical arms dig into concrete and brick as she follows you up. Her voice is deceptively empathetic. “Down so soon, little spider? I expected more from you!”

One of the arms rears back again but distantly, there’s the clench of a trigger—and it gets pinned behind her by a golden grappling hook.

The wire grows taut then there he is, using the reeling mechanism to lunge upwards. All the momentum is channeled into his crescent blade as Jake jams it between the plates of the trapped arm; it jerks like a wounded animal, suddenly uncoordinated and stiff. When it lashes out again, he easily dodges and jumps across the buildings onto the fire escape next to you.

“Mierda! You okay?”

Glowing white eyes, wide with concern—the sight is enough to shake you out of your concussive stupor. Jake extends a hand, and you take it readily, allowing him to help you up onto the rickety platform.

“Just peachy,” you wheeze as you lean almost your entire body weight against him.

This was supposed to be a simple mission. It wasn’t even supposed to be a mission in the first place, but one detained drug dealer led to another, which led to a smuggler and a mercenary and a goddamn gym teacheruntil you were faced with a whole corrupt laboratory that tied back to Doc Ock’s operations.

Jake got looped in somewhere between the mercenary and the gym teacher, apparently answering some kind of divine calling of his own. Egyptian god of the moon? Protecting travelers of the night? You just call the people you save New Yorkers, no fancy labelling here.

But you’re not so prideful as to turn away help when you need it, especially when it comes gift-wrapped in superhuman strength and a bullet-proof cape. Even though you catch him giving himself these looks in the windows you pass by or having whole conversations to himself under his breath—you’ve seen weirder.

Like now: There’s a clear conflict happening in—on?—Doc Ock. The damaged arm flails wildly through the air, and the other three can’t seem to decide between trying to calm it down, retreat, or kill you.

Those white eyes turn to you. “Sure you don’t want me to shoot her?”

“No!” Now you remember why you were initially wary of him—because when you first met, he was holding one of his blades to a lackey’s throat. Danger, danger! You didn’t even need your spidey-sense to tell you that; he wears the warning like a badge of honour. “We just need to subdue her till the cops come. Follow my lead.”

Jake gives you a mock salute. Fortunately, Doc Ock’s lab was deserted—except for her—when you crashed the place. Whatever supersecret bioweapon she’s cooking up will still be waiting for you to destroy it after you capture her.

With just one press of a button, you’re soaring back into action. The arms seem to have coordinated themselves again—having decided to kill you, how lucky—but so have you and Jake. One lunges towards you, and you pull upwards on your web, going feet over head as you as you flip backwards out of the way.

In that split-second moment when you’re fully upside-down, your arm extends downwards and thwip!—your web attaches to the titanium plating. The world realigns itself, and your momentum carries you in an arc below the arm, dragging it behind you as you continue in your original direction.

As soon as you land on the side of the opposing building, you yank hard. Immediately, your other hand comes up to shoot a dozen or so webs to attach the claw onto the wall. It won’t last—the brick is already crumbling under the force—but it gives Jake enough time to shake off Doc Ock’s attention and join you.

Closer than you were before, you can see just how much force it takes for him to drive his blade through the circuitry. Sparks burst like little fireworks around his hand. He makes it look easy, but a shudder crawls down your spine—you just know what he’s capable of.

You both leap out of the way as the arm thrashes erratically; Doc Ock cries out in frustration. That’s two arms down, and two that are busy suspending her in the air. You’ll have to catch her once you take out another one, but that’s no biggie.

“Jake!” You gesture towards the nearest arm, and he nods in understanding. Despite the pain radiating through your limbs, you grin. For all his snark and murderous tendencies (which you hope are just a joke), he’s a half-decent partner.

It’s too bad, then, that Doc Ock doesn’t seem to care about how good of a time you’re having. Her mouth twists into a snarl, and in a blink of an eye, she’s scrambling away. Retreating? Your poor, bruised head is hopeful for the night to end.

In a way, it’s right—she is trying to get away from you. Unfortunately, it also recognizes that she’s retracing your steps, right back to the lab where you first found her.

“Oh, damn it!”

Your injuries and Jake’s limited modes of superhuman transport make it impossible to gain any real ground as you chase after her. Doc Ock climbs through her shattered window half a minute before you do, and even if your conscious mind doesn’t realize it, some part of you does—it’s an ambush.

You dive to the ground just as a mini fridge is thrown in your direction. Pain shoots down your side, your vision blurring with tears. The sheer wave of nausea that washes over you makes your mouth water and fuck, you might actually puke like this.

There’s something else coming but you can’t do anything other than half-heartedly roll behind the nearest object. The workbench shields you from—what, a chair? You aren’t afforded anymore time to think about it because she rips off the counter next, several important-looking valves raining down around you. Through the noise, you just barely manage to pick up a quiet hissing in the air as you try to gather your bearings.

A line of workbenches down the centre of the room, an aisle on either side.

On the right: sinks and fume hoods.

On the left: whiteboards.

Directly in front of you: the absolute bane of—and possible end to—your existence, holding up that chunk of black countertop as if it were a hammer and you are a nail.

You brace yourself for the hit, but it never comes. There’s a surprised yelp from above you, and your peer through your arms at just the right time to see Jake land a brutal kick into Doc Ock’s chest, sending her flying. You don’t see her land, but you do hearit; equipment crashes to the ground, glass shattering on the linoleum.

With a hand from Jake, you’re back on your feet. Doc Ock is reeling at the far end of the room. The walls are littered with long, deep gashes—some from your initial confrontation with her, some likely from her mechanical arms flailing from Jake’s hit. Several of the fume hoods are missing their windows entirely, which definitely bodes ill considering that there are still chemicals in some of them.

Gritting your teeth, you somehow manage to get the words out, “Just stand down, Olivia!”

A hand is clutched at her side, and some petty part of you hopes that her ribs are broken too. “This isn’t over.”

You gesture to her mechanical arms, two of which are still malfunctioning like headless chickens, then to yourselves, who are (mostly) in one piece. “Well, it sure is about to be.”

She raises her eyebrows at Jake. “You raid a Spirit Halloween and suddenly think you can defeat me?”

“Yeah, sure, let me just take fashion advice from someone cosplaying as an octopus.”

Jake leans towards you. “Do you always talk this much?”

At that, Doc Ock’s eyes narrow, filled with determination. She’s not backing down this time, which means neither can you.

You both ready yourselves like you have countless times before, straightening your stance and setting your shoulders back. But Jake doesn’t show the same patience. No—he sees the remaining mechanical arms twitch in preparation, and a blade is already leaving his hand with deadly-precise aim.

Wait, wait, the hissing sound—the gas—

“Get down!” You ram your body into Jake’s, bringing you both to the ground as the blade makes contact with the titanium, sparks flying out and—

BOOM.

It’s like your heart stops.

For several moments, you don’t register anything at all. You aren’t even sure if you’re still breathing.

Slowly, your senses return. The scent of burning plastic invades your nostrils—even the air tastes like it too. Something’s landed on top of you, pinning you down with a surprising amount of strength. Warm and sturdy and pressing into all the wrong places, but you can’t even hear your own whimpering—there’s nothing but ringing in your ears.

Are your eyes closed? You can’t bring yourself to check. All you can do is try to remember how to live, and figure out what the hell is happening.

Your spidey-sense has gone quiet. That’s—that’s good. Hopefully. Or maybe it’s just been knocked out of you by the blast. You let that last thought get washed away into the muddled mess of your head; you could probably use a bit of positive thinking right now.

Everything hurts. That’s been true for the past hour, really, but there’s no gut-wrenchingly painful burn anywhere on your body like what you expected from a lab explosion. The closest thing is just that warmth against your back, in a thick arm across your chest, and encircled around your wrist, where it lingers along your pulse point.

Something brushes up against your cheek, roughly textured but trying to be so, so gentle. Words start to pierce through the hearing damage. “—estás bien, te tengo. No te preocupes, estás bien.”

“Jake?” Your voice comes out small and tinny, unsure of how loud to speak when everything sounds like it’s underwater. You receive an affirmative rumble, and the tension seeps out of your limbs, just a tad.

Tentatively, you open your eyes. And there’s—nothing. Just a white sheet of fabric covering your entire field of view. Jake huffs out a laugh at your confusion before finally standing up, his cape pulling back from where it was draped on top of you.

“Oh.”

It’s like a bomb went off. Nearly every surface has been scorched black, save for the perfectly untouched flooring around you where Jake shielded you both from the blast. Any equipment in the room has been reduced to pieces—if not completely combusted into ash and soot—and fires still linger despite the efforts of what’s left of the sprinkler system.

No sign of Doc Ock anywhere—she must’ve gotten away. Jake lets out a long string of curses under his breath, then finishes it off with an eloquent: “Fuck.”

The fire alarm is incessant, and the sprinklers have all but drenched your suit. If you had half a working brain left, you’d feel the shivers wracking your body and realize that you’re still bleeding out in several different places, but the only thing that crosses your mind is how tired you are.

You throw your mask off with a groan. The sirens in the distance only add to your growing headache. So close, you were so close this time.

“Come on.” Jake’s stands over you, mask retracted, and you can see the grimace on his face from how the mission turned out. Wordlessly, he offers to help you up, and is promptly ignored. He keeps his hand extended towards you, shaking it a little for emphasis, but you refuse to budge.

That is, until your mind so helpfully strays and wonders—how big was the blast?

Your eyes widen, and your body jerks upright as though electrocuted. Oh, God—you didn’t see anyone else in the lab other than Doc Ock when you arrived, but what about the other floors? What about the pedestrians on the sidewalk below, who might’ve had glass and debris rained down upon them when the windows were blown out?

It takes several tries to get to your feet, none of which are entirely successful because Jake has to intervene halfway through to hold you upright. Your second wind catches him off-guard and his brows furrow as you try to leap back into action. “Whoa—talk to me, bug. What’s happening?”

“Need to—” You try to shrug him off. His grip loosens for all of a moment before you’re stumbling again, and then he returns, as firm and steady as ever. “Was anyone hurt?”

“You.”

“Not what I meant,” you scowl. It’s thoroughly ineffective. The only response you get is a subtle tilting of his head, then a loss of his undivided attention as he listens to something—someone—in the room that you aren’t privy to.

His gaze flickers back to you, marginally softer. “No one else was hurt. You need to rest.”

You don’t dignify that with a response. What’s the point of superhealing if you can’t bounce back after a fight? This time when you struggle against him, Jake lets you go, crossing his arms as you limp around the room.

Fortunately, most of the smoke is being pulled out the windows; what’s left is enough to burn and scrape down your larynx, but you push through it. Doc Ock has to have left some kind of trace—if not during her escape, then in the work she left behind. But kicking around in the ashes yields nothing. There’s no conveniently placed folder full of evil plans, or vial labelled SUPER SECRET BIOWEAPON (ONLY COPY - NO NEED TO SEARCH ANY FURTHER).

Jake sighs. “What are you looking for?”

What are you looking for? The building is still on fire, for Christ’s sake—you should have been gone ten minutes ago. Still, your stubbornness is steadfast. “There has to be—something.”

He sweeps out an arm, gesturing to the resounding nothing around you. With wet curls stuck to his forehead, his tone veers on sardonic. “Oh? Your little spider-sense tell you that?”

“Spidey, and—and it’s not a radar, I can’t just turn it on,” you bristle. His ensuing snicker lands all wrong, and your mouth twists into a scowl. “Funny, is it? Blowing up a building?”

“Hey.” The lightness disappears from his expression. “How was I supposed to know about the gas leak?”

It’s a valid question. Still, the anger in you can’t help but flare up anyways, running on his words as if they were diesel. You bite back a retort at the last second, which isn’t enough because the resulting silence is accusatory in and of itself.

He takes a step towards you, chin raised as water continues to rain down on you both. Solid, sturdy—unyielding. The sight twists your stomach into knots, but you stand your ground, placing your hands on your hips even though it pulls painfully at a handful of your muscles. “Shit happens, bug. It’s no one’s fault—well, maybe a bit my fault, but—”

“I had her.” It’s a blatant lie, but full of conviction as it leaves your lips.

He’s nothing short of incredulous. “Did you?”

“Yes—”

Faster than your hazy mind can register it, his hand shoves at your shoulder. Not hard, but it didn’t need to be—you practically crumple, hands scrambling to find something to hold on to before you land flat on your ass, but Jake wraps an arm around your waist, steadying you.

You swat at his chest. You hate that his warmth is familiar. “Let me go.”

He counters: “What’s wrong?”

“You, asshole.”

“’m the bad guy now? You want a fight that bad?” His eyebrows cock upwards, regarding you like some unruly child.

He’s being inflammatory on purpose and it’s working. You’re an elastic band in his fingers, one that he keeps stretching and stretching and stretching until you snap. “I don’t want a fight, I want a—”

Win, you almost admit. You wanted a win, after all this time you’ve spent chasing after Doc Ock. Countless sleepless nights and lackeys thrown behind bars, only to fail in the final moments when it really mattered. The realization is debilitating, even in the confines of your own head, and so you lash out again, distracting yourself from the bitterness on your tongue by spewing it out instead.

“We’re not all out for blood, you know.” Then, because you can’t help yourself— “I’m not you, Jake.”

“Is that what this is about?” His hand tenses almost imperceptibly against your back, but you manage to catch it. Of course you do, with every sense on high alert, blood rushing in your ears. “You mad ‘cause I’m a killer?”

Something dangerous underlines his tone when he says the word and you flinch, trying to create some distance between the two of you on instinct. Jake doesn’t grant you that—his other arm comes to hold you as well, pulling you in even though you think you might suffocate in his presence.

“You knew this from the start. Don’t tell me you’re going to try to turn me in now.”

“Maybe I should,” you say in a rush, gaze steely as it meets his. For all your superhuman powers, none give you the ability to read what’s going on behind the storm in his eyes. You’re so close, you can almost feel the heat radiating off his skin, hear the words in his mouth before he even says them.

“You’re the one with the spidey-sense.” His voice is low. Somewhere in the back of your mind, through the shame and anger and desperation—you note that he’s called it by the right name this time. “You tell me. Am I a threat?”

Your heart is beating a mile a minute and your stomach is all fluttery and weird but—no. There’s no tingling at the back of your neck, no hair-raising along your arms. Petulance makes you want to lie and say yes anyways, but you can’t bring yourself to form the words. It just… isn’t true. And for some reason, you have feeling that this would be going too far, even as a rash potshot.

When you don’t respond, Jake’s expression softens, the lines of his face giving way to an understanding look that makes you feel smaller than his antagonism ever could. The fires have mostly died down now, but warm reds and oranges still flicker along the side of his jaw, in corners of his irises. His arms feel less like a cage and more like a lifeline, keeping you from drifting out to sea.

“Just—thought I finally caught her,” you mumble, and he pulls you the last few inches into a proper hug. Exhausted, you let yourself melt into his arms, the adrenaline beginning to seep away despite the cacophony of sirens in the background. “It’s been so long, Jake.”

“I know.” He doesn’t, not really—you haven’t divulged just how far this rivalry goes, but you don’t have to think very hard to realize that he’s speaking from experiences long before he ever met you. “We’ll get her next time.”

You snort softly into his suit. “What, you staying?”

It’s silly, the tinge of hopefulness that laces your voice just minutes after you’ve essentially accosted him. But Jake’s grinning when you pull back to look at him, all boyish confidence, and you nearly forget to breathe. “I could be convinced.”

Wait—what? He’s thrown you off-kilter. You—you didn’t think he’d actually— “Well—!”

At your stammering, he lets out a laugh, throwing back his head. It’s a wonderful sound, and when you flick his arm in response, there’s no real force to it.

“Well, you know what they say,” you sniff, trying to maintain your composure. “Friends close, enemies closer, and all that.”

“Right, right,” he nods gravely. The effect is severely diminished by the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Keeping one arm around you, he starts to lead you towards an exit. “Don’t know how you’ll handle it—your spidey-sense going off all the time with me around.”

On the way out, he picks up your mask from where you discarded it, slapping it a few times against his leg to brush off the soot and ash. His own mask and hood come up to envelope his face as he hands it to you. Distantly, you wonder how his glowing white eyes would look in the dark. Probably a bit stupid, is your conclusion.

“I’m sure I can manage,” you sigh, and once you slip on your mask, he gives you a little pat on the head before you can bat him away. Jake leans away enough to avoid your attempts to tug at his hood, but at the next opportunity, he reaches over again, the little shit, hand drawing in close, and your spidey-sense, superhuman and extraordinary, it’s—

It’s never been quieter.

#moon knight x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight #jake lockley #moon knight fanfic #my writing #at time of posting i feel like dogshit ✌️ #pls enjoy i am going to bed now goodnight #mk bingo 2024

[agirlandherkinks]

Controller Rumble (Breast Expansion)

Collab with @tabbycatpuppy, where we both wrote put our own spin on a story prompt :) Link to her story at the bottom of this Featuring: Characters I might not use again but tbh they're kinda fun (Lucy the human (she/her) and Cinnamon the anthro dog (also she/her))

Lucy and Cinnamon had always been close. They'd been practically inseparable since they met in high school, and when Lucy came out Cinnamon was there for her at every step of her transition. She taught her how to style her hair, despite having soft brown fur herself ("Trust meeee Lucy, I watched human girls like you do it all the time!"), dragged her to the shops for wardrobe makeovers, and discovered that baring her teeth worked amazingly at warding off weirdos. Neither of them were interested in dating, but they found each other sexy and were more than happy to hook-up (although all the fur occasionally made Lucy sneeze). And to celebrate 10 years of friendship, Lucy got her hands on something special.

"So, Cinn." Lucy stood between the TV and Cinnamon, who was reclining upside down on the lounge, ears perked. "We've known each other for a long time now, and I need to say I can't imagine anyone kinder, or sweeter, or more fun than you. I feel incredibly privileged to know you, and so I wanted to make today special." Clearing her voice and wiping moisture from her eyes, she pulled out a pair of game controllers from the front pocket of her cow-print dress. "You're still into breast expansion right?" Cinnamon's eyes widened to saucers, and she launched herself at Lucy with her tail wagging uncontrollably.

Half an hour later, after they managed to detach themselves, they had the controllers set up and were ready to play. Both controllers were solid black, contoured, and surprisingly comfortable to the touch. Cinnamon's however, connected to a collar around her neck of the same material, with a stylized little dog bone hanging off it. Lucy booted up the console, and Cinnamon's devices gave off a soft rumble and began glowing violet.

"If these things work like they say they will, every time you lose a game your collar will do... something, and your tits should grow."

"If I lose. You're gonna have to work for this one, cutie." Cinnamon gleefully navigated to Super Smash Bros, eliciting an eyebrow raise from Lucy at the name, followed by a groan as she remembered how bad she was at it. Most controllers weren't even made for paws, but from watching Cinnamon's furry digits pilot her character and grind Lucy's into the dust, you would have thought there was no difference. Cinnamon 1 - Lucy 0.

Cinnamon 2 - Lucy 0.

Cinnamon 3 - Lucy 0...

...

Cinnamon 9 - Lucy 1!

Lucy cheered while Cinnamon stared at the screen in disbelief, competitive pride having made her completely forget why they'd started playing in the first place. But then her collar tightened against her throat and began gently rumbling, sending strange sensations through her body. The vibrations settled in her nipples, causing her to gasp as it began sexually stimulating her. Then, she let out a startled "Yip" as her breasts expanded from B's to C's in a mere second, pushing against the cropped tube top she was wearing. Panting and trembling, she locked eyes with Lucy and grinned lopsidedly. "That was. So. Fucking cool."

Cinnamon 10 - Lucy 1.

Cinnamon 10 - Lucy 2!

Cinnamon was ready to change this time, although the rumbling was stronger than before. Her tongue lolled in pleasure as her tits exploded out again to D cups, feeling heavy and warm as she struggled to adjust to her new weight. She could see her nipples poking through her clothes, and let out an involuntary whine from how sensitive they were when she pawed at one. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Lucy trembling a little, and made sure to tease her by 'absentmindedly' squishing them. It was only to work Lucy up, but Cinnamon couldn't deny that it made herself hornier than expected.

Cinnamon 11 - Lucy 2. Cinnamon barely won, and that was only because Lucy was more distracted by her tits than she was.

Cinnamon 11 - Lucy 3.

Cinnamon whined loudly, as the collar rumbled more and more intensely. Not only was it literally making her boobs quiver and bounce into each other, but she could feel the pulsations spread to her pussy, pleasantly massaging every inch of her insides. She panted, pressing her back against the lounge as the vibrations suppressed all conscious thought, carrying her away on a wave of bliss. Lucy, eyes wide, slowly reached over and scratched Cinnamon behind her ears, eliciting a pleased growl from whatever primal part of her brain was currently in control. Cinnamon moaned as she grew once more, her top skintight around her burgeoning E-cups. It took much longer for her to calm down, and even then she felt much flightier, disorientated, and horny than before. The weight of her breasts, and the sensation of how the fabric streeeeeeeetched to contain them was... distracting to say the least.

"Hey, Lucy~?" she panted.

"What is it Cinn?" Lucy replied, clearly struggling to not stare at her friend's burgeoning chest.

"One more game? Aaah~" Cinnamon leaned forward and gasped, the motion having made her tits wobble and bounce and briefly shorting out her brain.

They picked up their controllers, but from the start it was obvious that the canine didn't have much fight left in her. Her boobs partially blocked her view of her controller, and every motion sent them bouncing and brought a low whine out of her. Lucy was struggling to focus too, next to such an erotic scene. She was hyper-aware of the sway of Cinnamon's breasts, the desperate noises echoing in her throat, and was she... rubbing herself through her booty shorts? It was too much. They had to finish now.

Cinnamon 11 - Lucy 4.

Cinnamon began quivering again as her collar activated, looking wide-eyed at Lucy as she loomed over her. Lucy bent down, and pulled up one of her friend's ears to whisper, "I need you."

Cinnamon's only response was a strangled "please~", awareness already fading from her eyes as her tits jiggled and cunt throbbed. Lucy moved her friend so that she laid on her back, then climbed onto the lounge with her. Rubbing Cinnamon's belly, she asked in a patronizing tone of voice "Who's a good girl? Is it you? Is it you?" The doggirl barked happily, feeling proud at the tone but not understanding the words in her haze. Lucy smiled lustfully as she hiked up her dress and pulled out her cock. Cinnamon moaned as Lucy pulled down her shorts, dispelling all thought of foreplay from the human as she unconsciously rammed into her pussy. She gasped, feeling how intense the rumbles coursing through Cinnamon were. She thrust, again and again, fondling her friend's tits, whispering encouragement in her ears, sending waves of pleasure into their already addled minds. And then, Lucy felt Cinnamon's pussy convulse and clamp around her dick, as the doggirl howled with pleasure. Her tits rocketed to F-cups, breaking her shirt, and soaked Lucy with juices from her orgasm as she mindlessly pawed her furry, heaving chest. Lucy slowed down, then disengaged, gently cupping Cinnamon's snout as consciousness returned to her eyes.

"Have fun?" Lucy asked.

Cinnamon giggled, turning over and reaching into her bag, "You didn't cum, did you?"

"Nope", she responded slightly ruefully, starting to settle her dress back over her legs.

"Good." The canine's eyes took on a predatory gleam, and her paws moved in a blur and fastened something around Lucy's neck.

Lucy jerked her head and stood up, and was surprised to hear a jingling follow her. She tentatively touched her neck, and found a cow bell and collar. Blushing a deep crimson, her eyes tracked to her controller, now held in Cinnamon's hands.

"I maaaaay have also bought one of these bad girls for you. Why else do you think I asked you to wear cow-print?" The doggirl licked her lips, then settled on the floor to watch the show, tail wagging.

The controller lit up.

Lucy gasped as her collar started rumbling, faster and faster and faster, until it felt like a constant buzz. She collapsed on all fours as sensations rushed through her faster than she could process, moaning loudly as her nipples and cock began to vibrate. Anxieties, worries, thoughts, all of them swept out of her brain under the sensations, and she gasped in amazement as a pressure mounted in her chest. With one, two, three sensual moans, the human's tits inflated from A-cups to D-cups, pressing against the fabric of her dress with nipples double their original size. The sheer joy of getting so big brought tears to her eyes, and she would have cried if the vibrating hadn't spread and distracted her. She felt rumbling on top of her head, and winced as it felt like something had pushed through it. The same thing happened above her ass, but she could... feel something there? Turn her head, out of the corner of her eye she saw a... tail? And bringing a hand to her head, she distinctly felt little horns. She sighed in delight as she willed her tail to give an experimental sway, and it obeyed.

Another wave of pleasure went through her body as her tits expanded again, and with only one arm to hold herself up she buckled onto her chest. The feeling of her nipples vibrating against the ground was euphoric, and she adjusted her legs so her cock could get the same treatment. It felt so good. Getting bigger was so nice. She needed to...

"Moooooooooooooo~"

Lucy let out a long, low, moo as her tits grew and smooshed into the ground, reveling in living out hucow fantasies she'd thought impossible. Her dress had finally shredded, revealing a pair of massive breasts that strained against a tiny cow-print bra. She mooed more as she grew to G's, then H's, gasping in delight as she saw milky spots leak onto the carpet. And it felt like her panties were getting tighter and tighter and tighter, like her dick was growing too...

She felt something pull her head up by the horns, and stared into a pair of beautiful big brown eyes. Cinnamon, her foggy brain said, the prettiest girl ever... Lucy smiled sleepily, tail flicking in content.

"Ok Lucy," the doggirl said with visibly false coolness, "You can't just writhe there all day and tease me like that. Do you wanna fu-" The hucow burst into motion, shoving her friend to the ground and going straight for her pussy. Cinnamon barked in surprise, then lapsed into a euphoric silence. It felt like a giant, meaty vibrator had been shoved inside her, relentlessly stimulating her clit and G-spot. Her eyes rolled in her head and she started moving unconsciously, twisting around to get to Lucy's tits. She grabbed one and started sucking on an engorged nipple, gulping spurts of fresh, clean milk. Each tug brought a moan and a thrust from her friend, until they settled into a hazy rhythm, surrendering control to their desperate bodies. The cock inside Cinnamon and the boobs she was suckling kept expanding, as the collar struggled to compensate for all the growth Lucy needed. And each time it would bring a scream of pleasure from one or both of them, sending them to greater highs and a greater frenzy, tails lashing against the ground and the air and their own bodies.

And then, in a moment that felt like it lasted forever, the collar rumbled one final time. And they came together, with a moo and howl of delight.

Huffing and weak from their exertions, Cinnamon managed to push her torso upright. She smiled tenderly at her friend, who clearly needed a while to come down from that experience, and nuzzled her cheek. Surveying the room, the shredded clothes, stains on the floor, couch that she hadn't even known they'd overturned, the canine giggled. Worth it, she thought. And when she read the controller manual, she laughed out loud.

Apparently you needed to win two games in a row to reverse the effect of one game's loss. And Cinnamon would make her hefty friend earn all 18. But looking at those sexy mountains of flesh spilling from Lucy's chest, she wondered if she'd be willing to keep a few cups...

Link to tabbycatpuppy's story :)

#breast expansion #expansion #cock expansion #hucow transformation #ally's kinks

[xdacted]

Of Strangers and Rain Delays

Paring: Reader x Lance Stroll

Warnings: slight angst, fluff, meet-cute, pure fluff, first-meetings

Word Count: 2,383

Status: Complete

___________________

With another crack of thunder, Lance spares a glance at the wide window paneling of the Montreal airport. The skies are so dark it’s nearly black, thick clouds hanging over the runways, raindrops smacking against the pavement. The wind billows on, threatening to lift the tarmac that lines small carts zipping across the barely visible rows of lights, emitting a weak hue consumed by the onslaught of rain. 

He can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. 

Somehow, he knew this would happen. 

From the moment he’d received word that their private airfield was closed, to the moment that his team was ushered to a quiet, empty terminal. He knew that the rain would keep him stranded in Canada. He had no real reason to worry, when Aston Martin constructed his travel plans, they always did so with the weather in mind. 

He looked over at his P.R. manager. She sat across from him, her legs crossed over one another, staring down at a tablet. The glow of the screen cast a shadow over her concerned face, moving when her fingers worried at the skin of her lips. 

“Something the matter, Charlotte?”

She flicked her eyes up at him, “Nothing that isn’t already my job, Lance.”

He snorts. 

There were very few people who would have the backbone to speak to him so freely. It wasn’t that Lance thought of himself as above them, but the world seemed hellbent on making it so that was all anyone ever said. What they said to him couldn’t be worse than what he had said to himself. 

There was a reason why he pushed himself into the car, forcing his freshly broken wrists to work just as hard as they had before. Everyone was watching him, everyone was judging him. He could feel their eyes, burning right through him. It stung. 

But he was used to it. 

From the very moment he’d gotten his seat, it was all Lance has ever heard. 

Just a rich kid running with daddy’s money. That’s all he was to them. 

Lance looked back down at her phone, a lump suddenly in his throat, “Did they say how long we’re going to be here?”

“I’m not sure,” She looked over to her left, her assistant - Mary - hunched over a computer, “Did they say?”

“We won’t have the clear for hours,” Mary muttered, her heavy bangs falling into her eyes, “Sorry.”

“‘S okay,” He clicked his phone off, pushing it into his pocket. 

“Think I’ll go walk around,” He began to stand, catching the way that Charolette’s eyes widened, “ You can’t expect me to sit like this for hours.”

She let out a heavy sigh. 

“Lance -”

He knows. He knows what it is. 

“I won’t be far,” He tries to offer her a smile, “I’ll get you something to drink, you want something, right?”

She hesitated, she knew that he was aware. Regardless of what people liked to say, Lance wasn’t an idiot. 

“I do,” She puts her hands over her tablet, leaning back in her chair, “Diet Coke, please?”

“You got it.”

_________

He can’t shake the look on Charolette’s face. It circles his mind as he walks down the long stretch of the airport hallway. The walls are painted a soothing tan, with bright lights overhead. He reaches over to skim his fingers along the dips within the paint. 

It isn’t until he approaches the end of the hallway that he begins to hear chatter. It grows louder as he gets closer, and eventually, he’s standing right in the middle of the bustling terminals. He had no idea that they’d managed to hide him so well. 

It wasn’t like he was Charles or anything, he didn’t have fans clamoring over themselves just to see him, but there were certainly weirdos. It had been a while since he’d seen one, surprised that he would’ve been allowed to go this far without seeing one of Aston Martain’s staff rounding the corner with him. 

He shrugs it away. 

People are much too preoccupied with themselves to notice him. He can hear people shouting at flight attendants from across the wide space, bags thrown around the floor. So much rain wasn’t typical for this time of year, but Mother Nature was simply an unstoppable force. 

It isn’t before long that he spots a small cart of drinks with a bright orange umbrella in the air. He sidesteps people, offering small, ‘excuse me’s. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself, not after last weekend. 

He wasn’t the most popular of drivers at the moment. 

Charlotte tried to hide his phone from him after the race, saying he needed to focus on recovery. Lance saw right through her and refused to leave without it. With a slight quiver in her lip, she pressed it into his palm. 

“Don’t look,” She said, her hand tight around his, “It won’t do you any good, Lance.”

“What haven’t I already heard, Charlotte,” He slipped his hand away from hers, stuffing his phone into his pocket. He would have plenty of time to look on the plane home. 

He did. 

Lance scrolled on Instagram and Twitter, trying to bite back the anger that rose from within him again. That video - that stupid video - of him with Henry. The camera shook as he just left the frame, only the sight of his green racing suit racing out. There was the rattle of the large toolbox beside him, and the movement of Henry’s body. 

Shit.

It was everywhere. 

And so were the comments. 

They called him spoiled, a monster, a cheater, a loser - everything under the sun was thrown at him, and he just kept scrolling. 

Reading word after word, until his eyes began to burn. Lance deserved worse than this. He was a professional, Henry was his trainer, and he shoved him. 

Like a dick. 

Lance sucks in a deep breath when he gets to the cart, surprised to see no line. He digs into his pocket, “I’ll take a Diet Coke and two waters, please.”

The cashier nods along, ringing him up with a polite smile. He reads Lance his total, opening a plastic bag to place the drinks in, “Thank you, have a good day, sir.”

“Thanks,” Lance mutters, reaching for the bag, “You too.”

As he turns to walk away, he notices a kid, no older than 9 or 10, running around with an Aston Martin sweatshirt on. The green is bright against the dull furnishings of the airport. Lance can’t fight the smile that makes its way on his face or the embarrassment that begins to bloom in his gut. 

The seats scattered around the terminals are packed, filled to the brim with stranded passengers. Pieces of luggage are scattered about the floor, little kids jump over them in an attempt to entertain themselves, people are engaged in rapid conversation, and some are slumped over the small armrests, asleep. 

It was nice, to fade into the background. 

He loved the fans, but Lance has always been a quiet person. His personal time is sacred, his downtime is sacred. He had his obligations on race weekends, signing hats and shirts blindly, but here, he was just a guy trying to get drinks.

He turns back towards the exit, the walkway seems to get more crowded. Lance lets out a sigh before he can stop himself. If he goes now, he’ll be discovered. 

Fuck. 

Looking around him, there are no spaces not taken by bodies. He tries to round a corner, keeping the bag tight to his chest. 

He spots an empty seat, well, one without a human in it. 

 It’s only a few steps away from him, he’s there before he can turn around. 

There’s a girl, headphones around her head, hoodie pulled over them. Her glasses reflect the screen of her laptop, positioned on her crossed legs. She’s invested in something, a hand cupping her chin. 

Lance debates walking away, but she notices him before he can. 

She looks up at him, pulling one of the slides of her headphones back, eyes widening slightly.  

“Yes?”

“Sorry,” He says, jostling the bag in his hand, “Is someone sitting there?”

She looks over, and immediately reaches to grab her backpack, “No, no, sorry.”

He waves a dismissive hand at her, “It’s ok.”

He settles beside her, sliding down in the seat. The noise of the space fills his head, he doesn’t have to think any thoughts of his own. Minutes tick by, the bag resting against his legs. His phone buzzes. 

Charlotte.

“Where did you go?”

“I just needed a break, sorry.”

The three bubbles dance across the bottom of his screen before disappearing and reappearing. 

“It’s ok. Come back when you’re ready, kid.”

He smiles. The lump in his throat back again. Lance knows that he’s made her job harder, he knows that as she scrolls on that tablet of hers she is trying to manage the damage he’s caused. She has been nothing but supportive, a guiding hand during interviews, and he does nothing but make her life harder. 

He sighs. 

Lance tries to forget himself. He takes in the room once more, eyes trailing over the streaks of rain, over the fluorescent lights, the people. He tries to forget the last race week. He looks over at the girl beside him, catching sight of her screen. 

It’s a movie, he’s unsure if he’s seen before. The two characters on screen stalk around each other, weapons at the ready, blood dripping down their temple. Looks intense. 

He begins to pull his gaze away when he catches sight of shimmering Formula One helmet stickers. The glossy sticker glitters in the light, dark forest green mimicking the design of his helmet, with ‘Stroll 18’ written beneath it in bolded letters. His isn't the only one there, Max and Fernando among the few, but it’s the only one he cares to see. 

When he looks back at her, she already staring at him. 

There’s clear embarrassment across her face, a dark blush across her cheeks. 

She pulls her headphones off as she begins to speak, “I - I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable -”

“It’s okay,” He stops her before she can continue, a smirk pulling at his features, “You didn’t know I was going to be here.”

A beat of silence passes before he adds, “Or did you?”

She gapes at him, “Of course not! That’s so weird. Don’t even joke like that.”

“Sorry,” He mutters, trying to hide his smile with his hand. 

“No, you’re not,” She lets out a small giggle, and Lance can’t help but want to hear it again. 

With her hood pulled down, he can see her more clearly. She’s beautiful. 

The lines of her face, the curve of her lips, the slope of her nose. Even with her face glowing, her smile is all he can see.

“You’re right,” He shrugs, tucking his arms into his sides, “I’m not.”

“That’s rude,” She’s quick to answer back, movie paused. 

“I’ve been told I’m rude,” The words slip from him. 

The look on her face changes, the slight drop of her lips. She just stares at him, but it doesn’t burn. 

“Maybe you are,” She says finally, looking down at the ground before back up to him, “Doesn’t mean you’re a bad guy.”

Her words pierce him. 

The lump in his throat is thicker than before, he nearly feels like he’s choking on it. It means more than she could ever know, a stranger’s opinion. He doesn’t even know her name. He wonders for a second if she can hear his heart pounding, ears burning. 

“Thanks,” He forces out.

“‘Course,” She smiles. 

It feels like the sun on Lance’s skin.  

“Are - Are you a fan?” He tries to change the subject.

“Yeah,” She mutters pulling her laptop to her chest, “Sorry about the - the stickers…”

“It’s ok,” He laughs, trying to rub away the tightness in his chest, “It’s nice to meet a fan.”

She smiles, picking at the sleeves of her sweater, “Well, I never thought I’d be able to meet any driver.”

“Why’s that?”

She looks at him and rolls her eyes, “Are you kidding? The cost of a grand prix is more than I make in a month.”

She fixes herself on the seat, tucking her leg around the chair, “Can’t afford it.”

He hums. 

There’s a certain guilt that builds up within him. There was always that saying, ‘Cash is King.’ He has known so many talented drivers forced to leave the sport because it demanded more than they had. The prices got far too high and the rewards were far too little. He knows more than most give him credit for that he’s privileged, his father’s money has allowed him to fail more than some ever get the chance to. 

“So then,” he continues, “Where are you headed to?”

“Mr. Stroll,” She stares up at him through her glasses, “Do you know that you’re not supposed to share that information with strangers?”

The laugh that is pulled from him is far louder than he means for it to be. It draws the annoyed glances of a few people around them, but it makes him double over. She laughs too, failing to smother it with her hand. 

It isn’t funny, but it’s perfect. 

“So you get to know everything about me, but I know nothing about you?”

“You’re famous,” She mutters, pressing a hand to her chest, “I’m just a fan.”

Lance shrugs. He didn’t want her to be just a fan, but maybe that’s just the rain talking.

“Still. I think it’s only fair,” She opens her mouth but Lance adds, “And anyway, I’m just a guy.”

Her mouth clicks shut. She stares at him again for a second, that same look returning to her eyes. It’s almost as if she can see right through him, but he doesn't mind. 

“Then,” She puts her hand out, “How about this…”

She introduces herself, telling him her name before saying, “It’s nice to meet you, stranger.”

Lance looks down at her waiting hand. Her smile is dazzling. It’s bright against the dark murkiness of the rain, it balances him. 

Lance breathes out. 

“I’m Lance, nice to meet you too, stranger.”

_________________________

A/N:This work has been cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. All are under the name XDACTED. Thank you for reading and feel free to request fics about any of the drivers <3

I also feel the need to remind some people that these are FICTITIOUS pls remember that

#meet cute #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #female reader #formula 1 #one shot #x reader #fluff #first meetings #lance stroll #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll fluff #lance stroll x y/n #aston martin #lance stroll x you #lance stroll imagine #formula one x reader #formula one fanfiction #fluff fic #f1 fluff #pure fluff #first meeting #lance stroll my beloved

[autisticlancemcclain]

It’s the whispering that gets her. Loud conversations and jokes are par for the course — that’s not interesting. That’s whatever. That’s something she’ll probably have to hear about, recounted tomorrow morning at breakfast.

But whispering? Now that has Pidge intrigued.

She creeps towards Lance’s door, which is just barely cracked open, and crouches low to avoid being seen. She peers through the crack, squinting to see through the low light — Lance hates big lights and only ever has crystals glowing in his room.

Knelt on Lance’s floor are the Legs of Voltron themselves. Their heads are bent close, eyes glued to Lance’s blue daisy case covered-phone, whispering to each other. Pidge has to strain her ears to hear them.

“—you think it means? It’s just casual, right? Totally casual.”

“I mean, our texting is pretty casual, and he’s never sent me a winking emoji. I’m surprised he even knows what a winking emoji is.”

Lance frowns deeply. “Yeah, it’s weird! The colon is right next to the semicolon on a keyboard, though. It could just be an accident.”

“But it’s kind of a flirty message,” Hunk points out. “Look. ‘You sure as shit kept me on my toes today, Sharpshooter.’ Winky face. That’s flirty, Lance. I think Keith is actually flirting with you!”

Holy motherforking shirtballs!

Keith? Flirting with Lance?

Pidge can’t help her gasp. It’s literally involuntary.

She hits the floor the second the sound leaves her mouth. She dives to the side of the door, scrambling to her feet and running down the hallway as quickly as she can.

Only the rush makes her unbalanced, and she’s never been particularly agile, so she trips over her own feet and sprawls onto the floor face-first.

“Pidge?”

“Just — let me die,” she says, face burning. She refuses to lift her head from the ground.

To be caught spying, dear God. On Hunk and Lance’s sleepover. Is there any greater humiliation?

“You can join us, you know,” Hunk says, voice amused. “You don’t need to spy, you little weirdo.”

Pidge weighs her options quickly. She can get up, brush herself off, lie about being uninterested, and make the walk of shame back to her room and stare, bored, at her ceiling until she falls asleep.

She bites her lip.

Or, she can join these two dorks. She’ll never admit it under pain of death, but she’s always kind of wanted to be invited to a sleepover. She never got along well with kids her age growing up — at least, not well enough to be invited to things — and the jealousy she felt when other girls would bring their overnight bags to school and head home with a friend was positively burning.

She turns to face her teammates, deliberately pretending to be way less interested than she is, picking at her nails and shrugging. “I mean, I have some really important things to do, but I guess if you guys want to hang out with me so bad…”

Neither of them are convinced for even a second. Hunk has his left eyebrow raised, and Lance is smirking. But nevertheless, they don’t tease her about it any further, ushering her in and tossing pyjamas at her head.

“They’ll be a bit big, but you’ll manage,” Lance says. He tilts his head at his ensuite. “Bring me the sparkly pink bottle next to the sink on your way out, please.”

Quickly turning away so Lance can’t see her smile, Pidge does. She ducks into the washroom, locking the door behind her, and sets the soft PJs on the bathroom counter. She looks at herself carefully in the mirror, taking in the small smile she can’t force down, the bags under her eyes and the excitement in her irises.

A sleepover. An actual sleepover, with real people who aren’t her brother. With friends, to do stupid shit like gossip and tease and knowing Lance, do some sort of inane skincare.

Giddy, she hurriedly changes into the clothes Lance gave her, hefting up the way-too-long plaid pants and tying them tightly around her waist. She sleeps into the soft green t-shirt, which thankfully is decently close to her size. Lance is essentially 94% leg, after all, so that makes sense. She nearly forgets to grab the bottle Lance asked of her, thankfully remembering just before she opens the door.

She throws it at Lance the second she’s out of the washroom, sniggering at his loud yelp. He sits in the middle of a truly insane amount of soft things, including dozens of pillows, stuffed animals, who knows how many blankets, and —

Pidge squints. “Is that my fuckin’ duvet?”

“You took a million years getting changed,” Hunk explains. “We stole your entire bed. We got mine too. Mattresses are at the bottom of the pile. Want to help me make a structurally sound fort?”

Some part of Pidge wants to protest that — she has a keep out sign on her door for a reason and that reason is Hunk’s nosy ass — but the allure of building a fort is too strong.

“Toss me that measuring tape and a pencil. We are going to blow this shit out of the water.”

———

Forty minutes of her and Hunk’s arguing — interrupted occasionally by Lance’s complaining that forts are inherently unstable and that stem nerds such as them shouldn’t be allowed to ruin the fun — later, a truly beautiful fort is built. They had to sneak into the common room to steal the sturdy couch pillows to make the walls, but with those invaluable assets, Lance’s collection of safety pins, and two and a half dreams, the fort is a thing of fairytales. Two of their mattresses serve as the base, and one of them is the makeshift wall opposite to the real wall. A big sheet is pinned to the ceiling and drapes over the mattress-and-couch-pillow walls to drape like a tent, and blankets and pillows are strewn in a comfy nest over the base. Several low-light crystals are scattered throughout the fort, making it bright enough to see clearly but not too bright to kill the ambiance.

“This is, without a doubt, the best fort I have ever seen,” Hunk says proudly. He shares a grin with Pidge, then flicks Lance teasingly on the nose. “You see what happens when I have a helpful fort-making partner who cares about structural integrity?”

Lance huffs snootily. “You suck the fun out of it, that’s what. Yeah, maybe this fort won’t collapse on top of us while we sleep, but where’s the charm? That character? Where — hey!”

For a moment there is only silence. Eyes shift between Lance’s shocked face, hair a static mess, and the pillow in Pidge’s hands.

And then all hell breaks loose.

It’s ridiculous, really. A pillow fight, at a sleepover? What is this, a low-budget teen movie? But in truth this is nothing like any pillow fight Pidge has ever seen or even experienced before. As soon as the reality of the war sets in, it’s like a switch flips in everybody. All of them forget that they are teammates, friends, people who care about each other, and the one and only goal is to win, by any destructive means necessary. Pidge has a pillow clenched in each hand and whips them down at anyone who comes near — across Hunk’s face, hard into Lance’s belly. Hunk takes the more traditional approach, double-fisting one bigger pillow and wailing it on one victim at a time with full strength. Lance, extra ass bitch that he is, scrambles on top of a dresser like a spider monkey and throws small stuffed-animal projectiles. He never misses. Pidge is nailed in the face no less than twelve times.

After what feels like a thousand years of ruthless battle, Pidge starts to get tired. She’s sweaty, face bright red, hair sticking up everywhere, but she knows she can’t stop. Her honour is at stake, her pride. She will not be the first to fall. In fact she will not fall at all. She will push until she is victorious, until her enemies are felled by hear mighty pillow —

The trill tone of a text rings through the air. Lance makes loud, strangled noise from his perch, leaping off the dresser and somersaulting to his feet when he hits the floor.“Everybody freeze!” he screeches.

Beyond grateful at the call for a ceasefire, Pidge drops the pillows, panting with her hands braced on her knees.

“Dear fucking God almighty, ” Hunk wheezes. “My lungs have shrunk to the size of walnuts, I think.”

Pidge inhales deeply, trying to calm her galloping heart. “Me fucking too.”

She’s about to ask Lance how the hell he’s still standing, but then he lets out what can only be described as an ear-piercing squeal, hand not holding his phone flapping wildly as he hops around the ruins of their beautiful fort.

“Date! Date! I think it’s a date!”

“No way,” Hunk gasps, hurrying over to where Lance is celebrating. He wrenches the phone from Lance’s grip, eyes widening as he reads whatever is on the screen. “Dude!” he exclaims, grinning wildly. “Dude!”

“What?” Pidge finally demands, tired of being left out of the loop. Lance doesn’t answer, too busy spinning in giddy circles around the room until he trips on a stray stuffed animal and collapses on the fort ruins. He stays there, kicking his legs in the air and crowing in glee.

Pidge looks at Hunk, at a total loss for words. Lance is acting like a lunatic , which is saying something, because Lance is so strange regularly that her threshold for Lance-isms is pretty wide.

Despite his similar excitement on Lance’s behalf, Hunk is able to explain. He beckons her closer and points to a text open on Lance’s phone, from the contact ‘willie nelson wannabe’ — Keith. It reads:

from: willie nelson wannabe

i was thinking we cld maybe stick together for the next space mall trip??

from: willie nelson wannabe

u know. safety in numbers and all that

from: willie nelson wannabe

and maybe i can buy u that alien smoothie thing u were telling me about

Pidge’s jaw drops. She thought Lance was exaggerating, but this is very clearly a date. A nervous asking, sure, but the intent is clear.

“Keith?” she asks incredulously. “Lance and Keith? Since fucking when?” She swivels her head between Hunk and Lance, who has finally calmed himself enough to sit still, although a beam still lights up his face and brightens his brown eyes. “I thought you were into Allura!”

Lance waves a dismissive hand. “She’s objectively gorgeous so of course I was interested, you know? But she’s not interested in me, so any crush dried up pretty fast.”

“But Keith?” Pidge can’t quite let it go. Hunk guides her to the fort ruins, and she does willingly, flopping belly-first on top of a small pile of pillows. Her eyes never leave Lance’s. “When did that happen? I thought you two were rivals?”

Hunk snorts. “They are.” He rifles around for a moment, moving aside and shaking out some blankets until he finds the sparkly pink bottle Pidge brought out earlier at Lance’s instruction. He squeezes some green goop onto his fingers, gesturing for Pidge to come closer, and then starts smearing it all over her face as he speaks. “Lance is emotionally challenged and can’t flirt like a normal person, so he picks fights with Keith every time he wants attention.”

Lance sighs dreamily, grabbing something from a shelf and then sitting next to Pidge, too. He starts tying her hair back into short pigtails to get it out of her face, so it doesn’t get stuck in the goop.

“He’s such an asshole,” he says, still sounding whipped as all hell. “A few months ago he had enough of my shit, I guess. I was nagging him about being a show off and he told me to shut the fuck up or he was going to lay me out on the training mats. His eyes were so intense, and his voice was so low I thought I was gonna fucking —”

“Young ears present,” Hunk interrupts loudly, which usually Pidge would protest but in this particular moment decides she will let slide.

Lance goes a little red around the ears, smiling at her sheepishly. “Sorry, Pidgeon. Forgot you’re a baby.” He punctuates this statement with a squeezing of her cheeks, despite Hunk’s chiding about the still-wet facemask. Pidge tries and fails to kick him.

“Anyways,” Lance continues, “I kept being a shit until he really did hand me my ass on the mat, but then he started to get worried that I would die on missions because I suck at hand-to-hand or whatever. He basically forced me to start training with him.”

“Basically forced, he says.” Hunk looks at Pidge, deadpan. “He made his own training outfit — I will spare you the detail of how skimpy it was, you’re welcome — and did his hair. Every time.”

Pidge laughs, which feels weird because the facemask has made her face all stiff. “You did your hair to go train?”

“Oh, piss off. I’ve seen you act a fool whenever a particularly cool robot is anywhere near you, you hypocrite. Shut up and help me text him back.”

She and Hunk do, settling comfortably next to Lance. They snack on the bowl of cucumbers that Lance asserts is supposed to be for the faces, helping Lance draft a response.

“It can’t be too enthusiastic,” Lance mumbles, crouched over the phone. He’s been space-googling ‘how to text your crush like a cool person’ for twenty minutes. Hunk has completely checked out of the task, placing cucumber slices all over his face and giggling to himself. Pidge is starting to get itchy.

“Is this supposed to burn?” she questions, scratching at the dried facemask.

The question startles Lance into dropping his phone. “No, shit, it’s not. C’mere.” He takes a damp rag and gently wipes away the mask, patting her on the cheek when he’s done. “There!” he says, smiling brightly. “Bet that feels nice and fresh, huh?”

It does, actually. She feels like a goddamn daisy.

…But she’s not about to admit that.

“It’s okay, I guess.”

Lance rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. He nudges Hunk with his foot and convinces him to help again, and together the three of them come up with a reasonable response to Keith’s question. (They convince Lance to be honest about his feelings, is what they do. And that’s not without endless nagging and clowning, Pidge can attest.)

Once the text has been sent, the date set, and Lance’s worries are assuaged, the sleepover starts to wind down. It’s well past two in the morning, and training — not including Lance’s private tutelage — was rough that morning. They start to yawn, and then their heads start to nod, and eventually they’re all laid flat on the piles of pillows and mattresses and bedding, limbs all over each other and stuffed animals everywhere.

“Hey, guys?” Pidge whispers, well past half asleep.

“Yeah?” Hunk whispers back. Lance hums.

Pidge doesn’t finish her thought for a while; long enough that she’s nearly sure the other two have fallen asleep.

“Thank you for inviting me,” she says eventually. After an even longer break, Hunk and Lance answer her, words lethargic in their sleepiness.

“‘Course, Pidge.”

“We like hanging out with you.”

Pidge falls asleep with a smile in her face, and sleeps the best she has since her brother went missing.

———

based on this post

#once again i am inspired by this wonderful wonderful account #vld #voltron #pidge #pidge holt #lance #lance mcclain #hunk #hunk garret #pidge & lance & hunk #garrison trio #klance #hunk & lance #pidge & lance #hunk & pidge #fluff and humour #pidge pov #my writing #brown-eyed lance #fic #longpost #autistic lance

[tadpolejourney]

Day 18

The owlbear cub came back last night. This time the poor little guy was injured. Luckily it wasn't bad. I reassured him that he would be alright. He's so cute. Gale came over to remind me that owlbears grow as if I didn't already know that. I think it would be cool to have an owlbear for a pet. It's not like I'm some weirdo who lives a 'normal' life in a 'normal' house anyway. Whatever that even means.

So we have an owlbear cub at camp now. I asked him what he wanted to be called, and he simply replied, 'Cub'. I can't get over how adorable he is, seriously. Sweet lil baby owlbear who will grow up to be my friend. After all, he knows I'm a friend, not food, already. Same goes for everyone at camp.

I told Gale how we ended up in our previous predicament with magic items, and he placed a magical lock on our camp chest. Only certain people who aren't prone to thieving can have access to it. Which means everyone but Astarion can open it now. Maybe he'll earn back that trust eventually. Gale and I didn't tell everyone else they can open it, so Astarion doesn't know he's the only one that's been left off the guest list. No doubt he'll test the mettle of Gale's skills, but Astarion won't be able to best Gale's magic. I also know disciplining Astarion will only work with natural consequences. No confrontation, humiliation, or lecturing. Listen to me. I sound like his parent. He's over 200 years old. I'm 22. This is absurd.

Gale and I had a fly-by-night test of his orb's volatility today. Not on purpose, of course. We ventured back towards the Blighted Village, on our way to Waukeen's Rest and the mountain pass. Something caught my eye when we walked past the well. Thinking about Gale's need for magical items (and our now bare stockpile courtesy of Astarion's greed and apathy), I wanted to venture down it. Naturally, this being a very normal place during very normal times, it turned out to be a cave full of big ass spiders. A big ass spider lair, if you will. Good loot though, including some magical items. We also found the amethyst that opens a creepy book we found in the village. Still not sure I want to open that creepy book.

When we first climbed down into the well, I accidentally hit a cocoon and we were immediately beset upon. I shouted at everyone to backtrack around the cave wall to line of sight the enemy (classic tactic to counter an ambush, forces enemies to trickle in and helps us focus them down). We all reacted as quickly as we could, and Gale and I ended up wedged in a crevice together. He cast misty-step while I was running into the same space, and we had a near-collision. That put us in a better-to-just-share-the-space-and-be-very-close-together-for-a-few-moments sort of situation.

We'd never been that physically close. My body was fully pressed against his. His back to the cave wall, my hands on the cave wall, his arms around me. I knew he could feel my breasts, smell my hair and my soap and my sweat, just as I had his scent all over me and I could feel all of him. And I do mean all of him. He winced in pain after a moment, and I could tell something was going very wrong. His chest started to glow bright purple. The heat coming off that orb got so intense so quickly. I backed away from him while I pushed into his mind, forcing my mental glade of calm into his thoughts and taking him out of his body. I wasn't sure it would even work, but it did. The orb calmed down. Sometimes I have good ideas!

I think he's letting his guard down around me. In his mind, I mean. That or he was just really distracted. When we first met, he was the only infected person where our tadpoles never 'got acquainted', so to speak. I never saw in his mind. It felt like standing outside an impenetrable fortress. I didn't push at the time, and I wouldn't do it without reason now either. I think it's kind of rude to barge into people's minds. I only do it if I have to. Of course when we met he could see into mine, to an extent. It's really just ripples of my emotions that people get. I try to vigilantly guard my thoughts as well, now more than ever. It's not quite as impressive as Gale's total silence, but at least I have some control.

Tonight in camp he thanked me and said he thinks I may have kept him from destabilizing again. I told him, 'You're welcome, my dear wizard.' Made him blush. Probably made myself blush too, if I'm being honest. He cleared his throat, told me he wanted to apologize for our situation in the cave. He didn't word it exactly like that. He made a very clever and poetic allusion to his boner and how he hoped I wasn't terribly uncomfortable. I laughed and told him not to worry about it. I told him I had one too, he just couldn't feel it. And just when we were having fun flirting, he told me it's probably for the best that we don't, for now. Sigh. Normally I would have given up on him long before I even knew about the orb. I don't chase people. I don't beg people. I don't take scraps from people. How am I so willing to forgo all of my pride, strength, and reason for this man that I do it so effortlessly?

I think I'm in love with him.

<<< Day 17 | Index | Day 19 >>>

#wanted to give some actual legitimacy to Gale's fears of spontaneous combustion due to sexual/romantic excitement for the drama #would have also made for a really fun rp/skill check – can your Tav stop Gale from exploding in this scenario? #also going to bat for the owlbear cub having NO NAME #bg3 #baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate oc #baldur's gate tav #gale x oc #gale x tav #bg3 tav #baldurs gate tav #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate iii #bg3 gale #bg3 astarion

[shitpostingkats]

Yu-Gi-Oh Review Roundup: Zexal!

Favorite main character: Astral

Yeah, I like the funny little autism alien. Everyone contain your shock.

But aside from the fact that there is a main character who is a glowing floating non-human, Astral is such a well written character. He starts with some of the barest foundations of a personality, being literally an amnesiac with no idea what is going on. Over the course of the show, you watch him slowly learn about the world around him and his place in it. Same with his relationship with his co-protagonist, Yuma! They start off very combative, but then learn to rely on each other, then a blossoming friendship, until they grow into fully loving and protective best friends. And we get to see that! All the little moments of their friendship is onscreen from day one. 

And aside from Yuma, Astral is just???? Hilarious??? He has this very dry sense of humor that is so anachronistic to the rest of his general naivety and it makes me smile EVERY TIME. He’s FUNNY. 

A personal pet peeve of mine is the assumption that autistic coded characters don’t understand jokes, and the only way to make them work in a comedy setting is to have the audience laugh at them. No!!! Astral’s just got his own wacky sense of personal humor! Even as he grows closer to Yuma, he still has his witty jabs, but this time they’re affectionate. This really is the way he talks, not just some consequence of amnesia and social bluntness. I love him. He’s clever and funny and caring and learning to love and awkward and awesome.

Also, he glows and floats. 

Favorite antagonist: Vector

Vector may not be the most consistently written character, but GOD IS HE FUN.

About 80% of my love of Vector is just in the visual appeal of his design and animation. The black and grey, almost like a gargoyle, with pink accents, plus his chrysalis/butterfly/alien duel disk? Mwah. Because barians don’t have mouths or eyebrows, their facial animation has to be really exaggerated to convey expressions. Vector’s face is made entirely of squash and stretch.

Add on top of that the dub’s pitch perfect and very fun vocal performance, and I just grin every time he comes onscreen. The actor manages to sell how this guy is a wildcard and just evil for the FUN of it. The giddiness in his voice whenever tormenting someone with evil cardgames. Every one of the barian emperors is like “And then there’s this guy. What a weirdo. We’re not 100% sure why we keep him around, but he is OUR little office chaos gremlin and he is a VALUED MEMBER OF THIS TEAM.” 

 When Shark is introducing all the emperors after reclaiming his title, his literal words when he gets to Vector are just: 

“Vector! Need I say more?” 

And even after trying to kill Nash like three times, he’s still in the final Friendship Lineup for the duel of three worlds, his monster used with complete honor and seriousness, complete with a special summoning chant and battle cry. 

THEY GIVE HIM A SPACE IN THE FRIENDGROUP AFTER HE TRIES TO DESTROY THE ENTIRE WORLD.

Favorite side character: Nistro

Check it off the Spk Himbo Bingo, everyone. 

Dextra and Nistro are honestly some of the highlights of the show for me. I love it when yugioh side characters are allowed to recur and get minor character arcs that don’t subtract from the plot but still have an overarching development. The two of them show up in the duel carnival, first working security, then resigning and entering the carnival as competitors. While Dextra, professional, focused, does not make any major changes to her appearance, Nistro seems to revel in the chance to finally wear his full length flame/fur coat. It’s a subtle characterization, but it makes his ultimate turn to WWE wrestler completely believable. 

He’s excitable, hot-headed, and values his relationship with Dextra; the two play off each other very well, somewhat paralleling the dynamic between Yuma and Astral. And, I cannot stress enough how much I loved having a male and female relationship that was just. Good. Dextra is an equal and he cares for her completely, and they work well together, both in chemistry and in their literal jobs. It’s just. Nice. To have this background duo with no drama or yugioh-female-character weirdness.

Nistro just happens to be my personal favorite because he decided the best way to confront an alien hostile was to hit a baseball at them, then casually lean on the bat and smirk. 

Favorite duel: Yuma vs. Eliphas

Basically the entire show, Astral World is this big question mark in the lore. So when we finally got to see and go there, I was excited. Like, kicking my feet and flapping my hands excited. (This is yugioh, after all. It wouldn’t be completely out of the question to just never explore this cool alien world that holds a ton of answers to questions in the plot.) Also, because at this point we had been missing Astral for several episodes, and I was ready for Yuma to have his funny alien bestfriend back. 

But first he’s got to duel for it.

And boy is it a good duel.

Eliphas is a great antagonist, his archetype being based around not only being powerful, but on being levels of power far above his opponent. In one duel, we get the whole deal of Astral world: toxic superiority. His monsters are all wonderfully creatchury, tapping back into some DM era egyptian aesthetics, and just delightfully weird. Etheric Amon is also a highlight. I especially love how it calls to mind the silhouette of Monster Reborn, and the pillar fading near the base gives it a trippy optical illusion effect. 

Being the first person besides Yuma and Astral we see use Shining Draw, it’s an excellent and immediate threat that instantly ratchets up the tension. Same with the New Order numbers using exactly the same summonings and sound cues as regular numbers. The magical powers our protagonists have been slowly mastering through the entire course of the series? Child’s play. Not even anything special.

Yuma v. Eliphas also kicks off the longest chain of duels that I unilaterally love that I have so far seen in yugioh. From this to the duel on the moon, it’s just all bangers.

Favorite arc: Mythyrian Numbers War

Zexal is the first show I’ve really agreed with the general consensus on the quality curve: It gets better as it goes on. Part 2 is just exponentially stronger, and with every episode grows more into its potential. That said, I kinda like the funky monster of the week format the pre-duel carnival had.

So the search for the mythyrian numbers feels like the best blend of those two flavors. It’s basically an arc of cleverly delivered build-up for the main villains, introducing each barian emperor’s backstory one at a time. Plus, some broader worldbuilding about Astral and Barian, which after over a hundred episodes of no answers, was sorely needed. 

It gives the villainous coterie some personality. Dumon’s quiet honor and chivalry, Alito’s brash competitive streak, Girag’s raccoon-based military career. The emperors are a highlight of Zexal, and it’s in large part to this time spent fleshing out each one’s personality and past. And we still get to bounce around to wacky locations and weekly boss monsters. Then, with the mini arcs of Astral World and the three barian mercs, it just encapsulates all of my favorite parts of this series. 

Greatest strength of the series:

*points at Yuma and Astral on the cover art*

It’s them.

My controversial yugioh opinion is I didn’t really love DM. I found the pacing boring, the duels awkward, and that it never delivered on some of its strongest ideas. The basic premise, two souls in one body, one foreign and confused, contrasted by the plucky average joe? Awesome idea. How do they interact? How does that partnership develop, literally sharing a headspace? What sort of adventures do the two of them get up to, racing around the world to uncover the secrets to the amnesiac’s past?

What does this have to do with Zexal?

Yuma and Astral is everything I wanted from Yami and Yugi, and more.

While I found the number of Yami & Yugi interactions in DM frustratingly few, I liked the idea of dual protagonists, and was curious what a well written version of that dynamic would look like. Zexal makes having two protagonist really work. They’re just a delight. From the stumbled irritation of first meetings, then the unsteady alliance of companionship, to straight up would-die-for-each-other partners. They both share the spotlight, learning from each other as the show goes on, and compliment in all the right ways. Their banter feels organic and refreshing, you truly believe these two are the best of friends. When they lose each other it’s painful, when they reunite, it’s cathartic. Their bond is literally the foundation of the show, in a way that I didn’t really see in Yami and Yugi, or the criminally little time we got with Jaden and Yubel. The first time we see Astral smile is when Yuma calls him a friend. There’s a billion little moments like that. The two of them speaking in tandem the first time they work in sync. Astral’s pure delight at getting to experience food for the first time as Zexal. Yuma’s desperation when he thinks he’s misplaced the emperor's key. A massive chunk of the show goes to building up these two, and, by the end, it’s far and away the biggest success of Zexal.

Weakest Points:

A good chunk of the writing effort apparently went into perfecting Yuma and Astral’s dynamic, because other characters suffer from a distinct lack of consistency. 

Shark, love him though I might, spends 2/3rds of the plot having no real reason to be there, then hard pivots into a heelturn that’s really cool, but breaks down the more you think about it. His entire motivation for the duel carnival arc was getting back at the person who hospitalized his sister, then he helps out with the fight against the barians for supposedly the same reason? Despite them having kind of next to nothing with Rio’s injuries. You could make the argument that his hatred of the barians is motivated by suppressed memories of Vector being responsible for his sister’s death when they were humans, except the second he recovers those memories, he turns around and goes back to leading them without so much as an unkind word to Vector. 

He’s not the only villain of the series to suffer from some questionable motives. Vetrix is also a mess, wanting to avenge Kazuma and himself by *checks notes* Opposing Kazuma’s son and abusing his children. Dr. Faker is equally comically antithetical, committing warcrimes for the sake of his sons yet treating both horribly.

Yes, there’s explanations given, but nothing that feels real to the character, just last minute plot twists. Vector’s appealing because he’s a loose cannon, yes, but he has the strength of performance and writing where that’s a believable aspect. His consistency is he’s inconsistent, and takes great delight in being so. Every other main villain feels like they’re just being jerked around into the shape the plot requires of them.

Also, for how exciting it feels to get answers in the latter half of Zexal II, it’s a bit much, even for yugioh, to hold the basic worldbuilding in such a stranglehold until then. Heck, no one even asks why the barians and astrals are fighting until like, episode one hundred. Even characters where it feels in-character to ask, to investigate, they simply. Don’t. For a series this long, I’d love to see that aspect worked into a more reasonable drip-feed of information.

Most yugioh moment: 

“Pack your bags, galaxy-eyes. We’re headed to the moon.”

He says this so seriously. Does he really mean for galaxy-eyes to get its little dragon suitcase and get ready for their trip? Is this a little joke, between an eighteen year old and his emotional support piece of cardboard? HE’S SO CASUAL ABOUT JUST. HEADING TO THE MOON. They need to have a card game on the moon for the sake of the world that is the single most yugioh plot beat of all time.

#spk's ygo reviews #yugioh #yugioh zexal #ygo #ygo zexal #yuma tsukumo #astral zexal #vector zexal #ray shadows #rei shingetsu #nistro zexal #shark kastle #ryoga kamishiro #kite tenjo #kaito tenjo #yu gi oh zexal #yu-gi-oh! #essays #review #anime

[ahungeringknife]

It Compels Me

@flowers-of-io

Shipping your OC with your friend's OC is like the height of friendship to me. Like sorry we're friend married now you're never getting rid of me. All I'm thinking about is our two stupid Acolyte boyfriends.

=====+=====

Dornuk always came up with grand excuses why he went to the Temple of the Navigator. But really his superiors didn't actually care. They didn't even care if he showed up for muster, just assumed he was dead unless a Wizard was doing a census. Since Savathun's death and the purging of the Entity in the Pyramid Guardians didn't come around in such great numbers. The Throne World was almost safe. Or about as safe as any Hive space could be.

He scurried through the corridors that led to the chewed up land to the Temple of the Navigator. More duty bound acolytes patrolled here with a cache of thrall. Up on the raised platform Kogrur and Rardux the Knight lieutenants that managed the Guard here were talking between themselves casually. Dornuk knew they saw him but they paid him no mind as he went into the Temple, taking the stairs like a normal person. Only the Lightbearer Skye was down here in the temple main, talking with her Ghost animatedly.

"Who goes," Skye called when Dornuk entered the main worship hall with the statue of Oryx slaying Akka.

"Dornuk," he said, hanging back in the stairway briefly, shyly. Mandy peered out of his side pouch at Skye and Abyss.

"Little moth's friend. You're allowed," Skye said, waving at him dismissively. Dornuk bobbed his head in a slight bow and scurried along the wall out of the main atrium. Skye ignored him, going back to talking to Abyss.

Dornuk went down the hallway to Alak Hul's private quarters. He was still stunned he just got to go there. Mandy floated out of the pouch to fly ahead of him, waiting impatiently at the door for him. She called Nakshatra and the ghost of Alak Hul came to let them in, unlocking the door for Dornuk to push open.

Alak Hul wasn't in the main room when he came in. There weren't many places he could hide. But Dornuk wasn't concerned with Alak Hul. He entered the sitting parlor with its comfortable seating and several boxes of strange City and Hive toys. Gup was sitting on one of the lounges on his human made hand tablet. Pockit. That was what Gup said they were called.

"Xolkûn," Dornuk said in greeting, proper despite himself.

Gup perked up and turned around. "Dornuk! And uhg, stop calling me Xolkûn. Only my mom calls me Xolkûn, and that's only when I'm in trouble," he groaned.

"But Xolkûn is your name," Dornuk said. But he also preferred it to Gup. It suited him. He didn't want to admit how much he liked the name. It was both a deeply powerful name and yet so kind, 'the unhungry one'. Xolkûn never knew the bite of your worm's desire to feed, to grow. He also never knew the fear of your worm devouring you if you failed to feed it.

"Yeah but you're my friend! And all my friends call me Gup," Gup said.

"I suppose I can make an exception," Dornuk said haughtily and Gup giggled as Dornuk joined him on the lounge. Gup didn't look like normal Hive and Dornuk was so curious about it. He had a fairly standard looking body for an Acolyte, like Dornuk, but parts of him sported tufts of down like a moth's. His entire head except for some strangely shaped horns was covered in this fluff so you couldn't see any feature of his face except for his three glowing eyes. Dornuk privately thought Gup had fluff in all the 'correct' places one would want fluff.

"How gracious," Gup said.

"You don't have to use your fake voice you know," he reminded Gup.

"It's fine," Gup said. Such a shame. Gup's natural voice was surprisingly deep. Or maybe it shouldn't be surprising. It was very... compelling. Because Dornuk refused to call it attractive. Because Dornuk refused to admit anything about Gup, the weirdo Hive with a Guardian mom, was attractive.

"What are you looking at?" Dornuk asked, leaning in close.

"Mom finally let me have a GnL account on my pockit. I was watching some clips," and he showed Dornuk, turning the pockit to him. Dornuk still had to get close. Which was the point. Dornuk couldn't just ask for attention or by the Deep cuddles but he could position himself into that situation. Gup was an overly affectionate sort though and didn't mind Dornuk getting in close.

He was also smart enough not to mention when Dornuk pressed against his side and fluff and just kept talking about the silly videos he was showing Dornuk. And they were pretty silly even if they were weird human, Guardian, and Eliksni videos. Dornuk even laughed! Dornuk didn't have a lot to laugh about often but he felt comfortable and safe with Gup enough to do so.

Dornuk wasn't quite insightful enough to register when Gup's arm curled around him, holding Dornuk against his side as they watched the videos. He was just enjoying himself acting like he wasn't totally snuggling up against Gup's mothy fluff.

#writeblr #fanfiction #destiny #destiny 2 #destiny the game #lucent hive #destiny hive #Gup #Dornuk

[cartoonfanaticmonsterrobotalien]

Solar Opposites in Mighty Solars Issue #4: “Fighting for Family” Ch. 3

6 Days later…

At school, Yumyulack is getting ready for gym class while the others are chatting over his sister not being here.

Jackie Quilbar: Has anyone seen Jesse lately?

Boy #1: Where’s your sister?

Yumyulack Solar-Opposites: lying Oh, she’s at Prep n Beauty, must’ve wanted a better school.

Katie: What?

Gerald: Why?!

Yumyulack Solar-Opposites: Oh, let’s just say- gets hit by a dodgeball thrown by Jayden

The Headphone Guys laugh.

Aidan: Up your ass Yumyudork!

Yumyulack Solar-Opposites: Hey! Not cool, guys!

Jayden: Whateves you fucking loser!

Suddenly Human Jesse shows up.

Human Jesse Solar-Opposites: Any problem here boys?

Brayden: Who the shit is this weirdo?

Monica Miller: Uh, the new girl? You got a problem with that?

Jayden: Yeah! She’s standing up for the freak!

Human Jesse Solar-Opposites: Hey you leave him alone! All kids should be valued! You boys get or else! Monica?!

Monica kicks a board in half.

Monica Miller: Krav Maga! shows off her moves to the Headphone Guys as they run off screaming, except for Mark

Mark: Cool!

Mark then looks at Yumyulack and feels something in him like this:

Mark then walks away, but then notices an old batter up locker that once belong to Stacy G as he grows shock. Later, at PE class, Yumyulack starts playing dodgeball but his team misses as they groan. Yumyulack blushes and laugh nervously.

Wendi: Way to go, weirdo!

Ally: Yeah! Way to blow it!

Yumyulack then looks down sadly but, then notices something underneath his pants that made him run to the restroom. Principal Cooke grows suspicious and follows him. Yumyulack heads to the bathroom. Ms. Perez sees Cooke and follows him. Then, Principal Cooke kicks down the door with his feet. Yumyulack screams.

Ms. Perez: Cooke what are you doing?!

Principal Cooke: Ah-Ha! gasp in shock

To their shock, Yumyulack has human legs. Principal Cooke faints. Yumyulack panics and calls Korvo.

Yumyulack Solar-Opposites: Korvo! Help! I think I’m turning into a- starts glowing and screams

Korvo Solar-Opposites: Yumyulack! Yumyulack?!

Then, Ms. Perez and Cooke shield their eyes as the glow gets brighter. The glow then disappears. Then, Ms. Perez and Cooke gasp upon seeing unbelievable: Yumyulack is now a human teenage boy!

Principal Cooke: Aw fuck! I knew that your dads should’ve never given you those vintage lunchables and X-Box Live, damn it!

Ms. Perez: Yumyulack?

Human Yumyulack Solar-Opposites: Oh god! I’m human. Wait. checks under his pants

Human Yumyulack grins in joy.

Human Yumyulack Solar-Opposites: No way! I got pubes!

Later at the Solars’ house…

Terry Solar-Opposites: Damn Yumyulack, you really did become a real teenage human boy!

Korvo Solar-Opposites: Oh honey. Your clothes!

Human Yumyulack Solar-Opposites: Sorry growth spurt must’ve happened during that transformation.

Phoebe MacCarthy: So what do we do now?

Terry Solar-Opposites: I dunno. Wait for Korvo to become human?

Korvo Solar-Opposites: Oh. I’m sure we got extra clothes for you, Yumyulack. And great news! They’re your human size!

Korvo then gave Human Yumyulack a green hoodie with a white t-shirt and a pair of male jeans.

Phoebe MacCarthy: Nice!

Human Yumyulack then change his clothes in the bathroom as he comes out.

Human Yumyulack Solar-Opposites: I kinda like this!

Korvo Solar-Opposites: Great for you kiddo! But I better head to Vegas next week! That’s where the crime scene La Smaragdus started her crime! Wish me luck guys!

Korvo turns into Quasarblast.

Korvo Solar-Opposites/Quasarblast: I must fly! flies off

Terry Solar-Opposites: Kick some ass honey!

Human Yumyulack Solar-Opposites: Good luck K-Dog!

Quasarblast laughs and blows Terry a kiss.

Jesse Solar-Opposites: We’re rooting for you!

Pupa Solar-Opposites: Yay! Korvo!

Phoebe MacCarthy: See you in five days or so!

5 days later…

Quasarblast arrives in Las Vegas at the casino La Smaragdus started her first crime and goes up the security guard.

Security Guard: Who the fuck are you?

Korvo Solar-Opposites/Quasarblast: Your worst fucking nightmare!

Security Guard: Hey go easy man! I can tell you everything!

Quasarblast goes invisible. Then, he opens the door and plays the security footage as he gasp. He then sees La Smaragdus paying of the security guards

Korvo Solar-Opposites/Quasarblast: This is not good…

As he looks closely, Quasarblast then sees La Smaragdus stealing a priceless diamond and turn some the costumers as the superhero Shlorpian turns towards the guards in anger

Suddenly…

Security Guard: Prim Quasarblast out!

Quasarblast gets into a fighting stance. The guards then ambush and shoves Quasarblast into a cement mixer as he screams and is thrown outside as the block breaks and Quasarblast free himself and flies back home. There, Quasarblast turns back into Korvo and hides behind the garbage pail as it starts raining. Korvo groans in frustration He looks up at the Taco Bell sign and sighs because he is behind a dumpster at Taco Bell

Korvo Solar-Opposites: I have the worst luck today.

Korvo then looks up at the sky as rain falls in him.

Korvo Solar-Opposites: Now what do I do?

Suddenly… A nose appears on Korvo’s face as he grow surprised and confused.

Korvo: What the fuck?

Then, ears appear on Korvo as he grow shock

Korvo: Oh god! No!

Korvo then starts glowing.

Korvo Solar-Opposites: glows brighter WHAT THE FUCK’S HAPPENING?!

The glow disappears and Korvo groans and clutches his head.

Korvo Solar-Opposites: offscreen What the hell was that?

Korvo then feels something on his head that made him gasp. Korvo looks himself in the mirror. Korvo screams in shock, because he has now becomes a gorgeous human as he breaths in and out.

Human Korvo Solar-Opposites: Oh God! I’m too attractive!

Human Korvo suddenly hears something.

Janice: offscreen H’no Hello? Anyone out there y’know?

Human Korvo gasps and runs off. Human Korvo then hides in a empanada truck then Randall from Halloween sees him.

Randall: Hey, sir? What are you doing in here?

Human Korvo Solar-Opposites: RANDALL FROM HALLOWEEN?!

Randal: Yeah, that’s my name. Why are you-

Janice: offscreen Mr! Wait! Are you okay?!

Human Korvo Solar-Opposites: GET AWAY!

Then, someone opens the door and it turns out be Janice from Korvo and Terry’s old job.

Human Korvo Solar-Opposites: Wait. Janice?!

Randall: Huh?

Randall then looks at Janice and grows lovestruck while “True” from Spandau Balledt plays in the background:

Randall: Oh, uh hi.

Human Korvo Solar-Opposites: Janice, it’s me, Korvo!

Janice: What?!

Then Human Korvo gulps and tries think of a better idea. Then, he sees a magazine cover for LBGTQ+ Models and got an idea upon seeing a name.

Human Korvo Solar-Opposites: Uh, I mean Korey.

Randall: Korey?

Janice: H’no, that’s a good name, y’know?

Human Korvo Solar-Opposites: Uh yes. I just moved here… notices his ripped apart and ruined robe Oh shit! My clothes!

Randall: Oh, that’s okay! I have some old clothes you can have.

Human Korvo then looks in the box and then suddenly looks at the mirror and began to feel infatuated with himself as he flips his long blond hair with his hand and grows smitten.

Human Korvo Solar-Opposites: Whoa whistles, actually, I think this look might do well. See ya folks. takes a pair of clothes and leave

Human Korvo then sees a nearby gym shower and grins with an idea.

Human Korvo Solar-Opposites: Boo-ya!

Special thanks to @avaveevo, @asikreading, @themagicwolf6677, @king-of-squishmallows and all of my watchers for their ideas and support.

#solar opposites #solar opposites au #solar opposites mighty solars #solar opposites: mighty solars #mighty solars #korvo/quasarblast #human yumyulack #human jesse #human korvo #tervo #korvo #terry solar opposites #british korvo #yumyulack #jesse solar opposites #cute pupa #principal Cooke solar opposites #ms. perez solar opposites #jandall #janice solar opposites #randall solar opposites #phoebe maccarthy #phoebe solar opposites #monica miller #monica solar opposites #mark melner #yumyulack mark #yumyulack x mark #yumark #Youtube

[smurphyse]

Zero the Weirdo | Eddie Munson

Smurph's Masterlist | Zero to Hero Masterlist

Warnings: nudity, Eddie's first time seeing a naked woman o.O, skinny dipping, fear

Summary: You take Eddie down to the pond for some physical therapy... and something unexpected happens.

Eddie isn't sure when exactly he woke up. All he knows is he's been laying in bed for hours now while Zero putters around in the cabin. 

She talks to herself a lot. She's even doing it now though the sun is only just beginning to rise. It peeks through the window above Eddie's head, and for the first time he notices the sun catcher dangling from the ceiling that glows on the far wall. 

It, like nearly everything Zero seems to be interested in, is shaped like a plant. Eddie doesn't recognize it, but it's a big one in a pot with splits in the leaves. The glass is stained with different colors, and when he angles himself up enough to eye it, it looks handmade. 

Tools lay around the place in buckets and bins, stray book piles litter the floors. They're all well-worn and well-loved, dog eared pages and stains on the covers. Plants grow through the cracks in the floor and ceiling, trailing behind shelves and through the bed posts. They’re everywhere, from pots on the floor to little coffee mugs nearly bursting with dirt and flora.

She'd shown him where the bathroom was after his crying fit last night, fed him tomato soup in bed. It was amazing, but Eddie's tear-swollen eyes and hiccuping meant he never got around to telling her that. 

Zero waited patiently outside of the bathroom each time he used it, waiting until he knocked on the door to open it and help him hobble to the bed. By the time he was ready to fall asleep, she was lightning fast ready with a clean blanket and a first aid kit to check his wounds. 

She told him the stitches were healing well, that he was doing a good job, but Eddie spent the rest of the night in contemplative silence. Much as he was now, he stared at the ceiling from the mattress as his mind raced a thousand miles a minute. 

Do they really think I'm dead? Does Wayne? Did they tell him or is he still waiting for me to come home? 

His heart twisted in his chest each time his uncle crossed his mind. Eddie knew he could have called him when he was hiding out at Reefer Rick's, but the thought of dragging him into all this when Wayne had clawed his way out of the life of crime that always seemed to plague the Munson’s settled heavily in his gut. 

Eddie's father, Edward the Asshole, was in jail more than he wasn't, and Wayne bailed him out when he could. This last time he was arrested for armed robbery, back in 1975 when Eddie was ten, Eddie was in the car. Wayne never bailed Edward out again and Eddie stayed with him ever since. 

He raised Eddie, and now Wayne was spending his nights like he had with his father…waiting for him to come home safe and without handcuffs. All this time Wayne wanted Eddie to be better than his father, and Eddie was wanted for multiple murders and cult sacrifice. 

"Ooga-Chaka Ooga-Ooga. Ooga-Chaka Ooga-Ooga…" plays in the other room. Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes. 

Pretty girls have the worst taste in music. Zero is no exception, weird as she is even without her good looks. Her voice filters through to him as she excitedly sings along to the song, "I can't stop this feeling, deep inside of me! Girl, you just don't realize what you do to me."

Eddie finds himself smiling as she steadily gets louder. Sometimes it's like she forgets he's there, nearly screaming along to her music. He knows when she remembers as he'll hear a gasp and a shit! And then the music will get softer as she pads around doing whatever she's doing. 

She puts up a guarded front around Eddie, but over the last night he's listened to some of her more… quirky parts, to put it nicely. She babbles to nobody most of the time, hardly sleeps, and listens to a lot of music from decades ago. 

"Shit!" she snaps, and the music fades. Her perpetually bare feet pad toward the door - Eddie's yet to spot a pair of shoes besides his own torn up combat boots in the corner of the bathroom - and Zero's face appears as she tries and fails to peek around the door frame. 

Eddie lets his head roll to flash her a smirk and a wave, "Concert's over?"

Her face flushes to a sweet red color and she bites the bottom of her lip. "I forgot you could hear me."

"I'm not the only person you've talked to in eleven years, am I?"

Zero shakes her head adamantly, "I talk to Stoney Hightower at the market when I bring him produce."

"Stoney's pretty well-known for being the 'silent type', so he doesn't really count."

Now she shrugs and makes a face, "Whatever."

Zero stands there awkwardly, tapping the doorframe and looking around. Eddie just waits as she gathers up whatever gusto she needs to speak again, and finally she walks in and sits on the edge of the bed. 

She eyes the scars on his chest much like she had last night, but he can see her mind churning. "You up for some physical therapy today?"

Eddie squints at her, but when Zero meets his gaze she beams mischievously. "What do you have in mind?"

Zero squeals and jumps a bit in her spot. The springs of the bed creak in protest but she doesn't seem to notice. 

"You're gonna love it!" she grins happily. "It's my favorite spot in the Haven."

I lead Eddie out of the cabin and around the back when the sun rises. He leans heavily on me, his arm slung over my shoulders. 

"It's okay if you're not up to it," I say as we stare down the hill where the garden lays. To get to the pond we have to go around it and through a few trees. "I'm not pushing you to do this."

"You said I've been in bed for two weeks?" he asks, but his breath is patchy. Heavy. 

I nod, "An unconscious two weeks, but…"

"I've got people waiting for me, Zero. If you're not going to come back to the real world to help keep me alive, then I have to get better before I leave here."

"Oh-kay," I sigh. If he wants to go we'll go. I start to lift him with my powers so he doesn't have to walk all the way down, but Eddie clutches my shoulder joint in a death grip that nearly makes my knees buckle. "Ow! Munson what the fuck?"

Eddie stares at me, his dark eyes stern and fierce. "Don't carry me. I can walk."

I lean on one hip and glare back the best I can with him draped around me. I shake his waist, "Not really. You scared of flying? Most people think it's a superpower."

"I don't have any power over it, do I?" he snaps back, but a strange smirk plays at the corner of his lip. My stomach churns at the sight…but it also oddly feels nice. "I feel like the boy in the plastic bubble except I don't have the bubble to roll around in."

"Your friend lives in a plastic bubble?" I ask, making a face. "Why..?"

"Not my friend," he sputters, "it's a movi-. I thought you've been in the outside world. You listen to a ton of music."

"Alecia Hightower gave me a bunch of cassettes a few years ago in exchange for some pot. You think I'd spend money on a movie?"

"What else do you spend money on besides entertainment?" he asks, his brow cocked. It raises and a grin peels open across his cheeks, "Did you say pot?"

"When you can roll a joint on your own with those busted hands," I say with a false smile he glares at. "You can have some of the primo weed I grow."

Eddie thinks about that and nods. "Zero?"

"Yeah?"

"You're a weirdo. I kinda dig it."

The heat that rushes to my face is so foreign for a moment I think I'll pass out, but Eddie's warmth under my baggy clothes that are still too small for him grounds me. I try to hold back my smile but fail, so I look away. 

"Get on my back," I decide, but he pulls away a bit. 

"Your back? You're like four feet tall. I'll crush you!"

"I'm adult sized. You'll be fine, c'mon." I slip my arm from his waist and pat my thighs, and it's hard to miss Eddie's eyes flashing down my top as I bend down. I do it again, "Come on, Munson. I don't have all day."

Eddie lets out a grumble and a sigh, but he does as he's told. I hear the sharp gasp that leaves him as I lift him a bit with my powers to keep him in place on my back. His legs wrap around my waist and his arms encircle my neck like a collar until I tap his arm to ease up. 

I take some of his weight so he doesn't feel like he's being carried by my powers, so by the time we make it down to the pond I've got a nice sheen of sweat forming over my forehead and the back of my neck. The flannel sticks to my back as I lower Eddie to the ground, and he marvels at the place I've built. 

The water here is still contaminated, so years ago I dug out this section in the enclave of trees. I bought a giant pool lining at an estate sale for fifty bucks, patched it, and set it in the hole. Filling it with water took the longest, and when it gets dirty I use my powers to pull the muck out and toss it further into the trees. 

An army of trees stands guard, hiding it in plain sight. The only opening is the view up to the garden and cabin. My vining plants have trailed out here and bloom in the small patches of sunlight through the leaves, a large patch in the middle of the water. I even made steps out of stone to walk into it. 

"I made it myself," I declare proudly. 

"Holy shit," he mutters, then looks down at his-my clothes. "I don't have a bathing suit."

"So?"

"So…" Eddie starts, cocking his stupid eyebrow at me. "You just want me to swim around naked in front of you? That's not fair."

I cross my arms and lean on my hip. "What are you talking about?"

He mimics my stance like an asshole and points at my flannel. "You've seen mine but I haven't seen yours."

Oh, I realize. He's talking about my body. 

I shrug, "Then I'll get in with you."

His face turns beet red as I start to work at my buttons. I stop. He didn't grow up in a lab. 

"Is that okay?"

His eyes widen like saucers, pupils dilating visibly in his dark eyes. "Uh…yeah. Yeah, we'll- yeah."

I watch Eddie curiously as I unbutton my top and shrug it off. His jaw drops as it crumples to the ground, his eyes going glassy and wide. I know he's looking at my boobs but to ease some of the awkwardness I'm feeling I gesture to the long tendriling scars on my belly that match a few of his. 

"I was my first patient, you were my second. Sorry about the shit job I did."

Eddie stares for another few moments before picking his jaw up from the ground. It snaps shut and he shakes his head, "No, you look… wow. It's good."

His cheeks flush a deep red as he nods uncomfortably. I loop my thumbs under the waistband of my underwear and push them down. When I stand back up he's gone a plummy shade of purple, but I wave a hand at his clothes. 

"Go on."

Eddie slips his hands under the waist of his sweats, then waves a hand back at me. "Turn around."

My jaw drops in exasperation, "Are you kidding me?"

"Just-, c'mon," he begs softly. I can see the outline of his boner underneath his pants, and I know he doesn't want me to see it. "I've got a situation here."

"How are you gonna get in if I can't see you? You don't want me to lift you."

"Just do it," he snaps, so I oblige. I let my hands flap down to my sides and head for the pond. 

The warm water encircles my ankles as I head down the little steps. I wade in until the water reaches my shoulders, listening for Eddie behind me. I hear the shuffling of the old cotton hitting the grass, then a curse. I cock my head to the side, "Do you need help?"

Eddie's pants grow heavier as I hear him try to take a few steps. "Fuck, just lift me."

I sigh knowingly and flick my wrist behind me. Eddie's breath huffs from his chest as I lift him the best I can without looking at him and bring him toward the pond. A sharp yelp erupts from somewhere above me. 

"Holy shit!" he yells, just before I see a flurry of flailing limbs and long curly hair dropping from the air. Eddie hits the water with a loud splash, staying under for a second before bursting through the surface. 

"You…are an asshole," he pants, and I can't hold back my childish giggle at the way his hair sticks to his cheeks. 

"You try lifting something you can't see. It's not as easy as it looks."

It takes a few minutes of me swimming around for Eddie to forgive me, and then we spend an hour or so doing simple exercises. I have him walk back and forth across the pond, holding onto me for support when he needs it. We do some leg kicks in tandem, but Eddie draws the line at much else, complaining the whole time. 

I'm surprised he did as much as he did, to be honest. I haven't finished his healing internally, but I want to keep his muscle mass up. He wasn't very big to begin with and he's already lost a good amount of weight. 

I help him to the edge of the pond and lean him against the lip. I put a steadying hand on his shoulder. "I'm gonna go get your clothes."

Eddie waves an exhausted hand and leans his head on his forearm, "I won't look."

I look back to see if he's sneaking a cheeky glance, but instead he's trying to catch his breath. I whisk the water off my skin and grab my underwear and flannel, slipping them on quickly. As I'm buttoning up my shirt I notice something peeking through the leaves of the trees. My fingers still as I stare in shock.

A deep purple stream of darkness filters through, blighting the foliage with particles of dust. 

A piece of Henry in my safe Haven. 

A panicked chill seeps into my bones as I reach out to touch it. It's freezing cold, shadowing my fingers in the decay that encompasses the Darkness outside. Goosebumps form along my skin, terror settling heavy in my gut. 

I need you, sister, his voice flashes through my mind. Come see me. 

Blood drips from my nose as I reseal the dome over the Haven. It takes more effort than anything else to keep up the sunshine and warmth, and my head goes a bit hazy as the heat filters back through over my hand. 

"Zero?" Eddie's voice comes from behind me, and I quickly wipe my nose before turning back to him. He's watching me with tired eyes, his body trembling. "I think I need a nap."

"Tired you out, huh?" I grin, then head back over. He doesn’t need to know how close we are to total Darkness. It would only frighten him more.

I help Eddie out of the pond and swish the water from him like I did myself. He shudders and clutches my shoulder tightly, "That felt really weird."

"Gets the job done," I shrug. I keep my eyes averted as I help him into his clothes, then put him on my back again and carry him up the hill. 

Eddie's eyes droop as we enter the cabin, and by the time I put him in bed he's already half asleep. I cover him up and close the curtain over his head, then turn to go back into the living room. 

"You think I'm gonna be okay?" he asks quietly. His voice is small, afraid. I tap the doorframe and come back over to sit on the edge of the bed. 

"I think it's going to take some time, but one day you'll be okay. You'll never be the same, though."

He gazes up at me through bleary eyes, hardly able to keep them open. His hand comes up to grip my flannel, and I watch as he runs his thumb along the buttons. "Henry did that to you, didn't he?

"I did a better job on you than I did myself, Eddie. Just give it some time," I whisper, eyeing the scars on his fingers. He'll always have them. They'll be his constant companion for the rest of his life. 

"You can come back to the real world with me. I have friends… they can help."

I watch the earnestness in his eyes for a moment. It's so honest it hurts. Something twists deep in my chest and I have to get up and head for the door. 

“You don’t have to be alone, Zero.”

"Get some sleep, Munson," I say, and when I look back he's already out like a light. 

Letting out a sigh, I close the bedroom door softly. I snatch the radio off the counter and head for the middle of the living room. I pull the rug back to reveal the crawlspace and open the latch, then drop down inside. 

It's dark down here no matter what time of day it is. I can't even stand, so I sit on the cushion I laid on the dirt a long time ago and close the lid. Darkness covers me like a blanket, and I turn the radio to static and close my eyes, taking a deep breath. 

The white noise surrounds me, dropping me into a pool of nothing. There's no feeling, no scent, no sound. Nothing but black. 

When I open my eyes, there he sits. He's not the monster he became, or even the little boy I met so long ago who became my big brother, eight years older than me. He's the man I knew who helped me escape, the one who freed me from Papa and his torture. 

"Hello, Zero," he says in that voice that sends chills down my spine. His grin peels open like a scar, all white teeth and ice blue eyes, sitting cross-legged in his white jumpsuit. "It's been a long time."

It takes a few moments before I answer. I swallow down my paralyzing fear and the thickness in my throat. I sit up straight like he taught me and set my jaw. 

"Hello, Henry."

Smurph's Masterlist | Zero to Hero Masterlist

Notes: OOOOHHHH HELLO HENRY o.O

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@tlclick73 @theloser007 @sadbitchfangirl @chaoticcancer  @harrys-tittie @assassinsasha23 @spacedoutdaydreamer @legendarytrashcopeclipse @notahappystan

#Zero to Hero #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #virgin!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #smurph writes #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #Eddie Munson/OC #ocapp #ocappreciation #ocfairygodmother #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Nothing Much to Lose

Author: marchember

Artist: Jojo

Rating: Teen

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Length: 85000

Warnings: undefined

Tags: #Howl’s Moving Castle fusion/AU #more movie than book #characters from the HMC universe #Hatter Dean #Wizard Cas #adventure #bickering #enemies to friends to lovers

Posting Date: October 27, 2022

Summary: Dean’s life as a Hatter is predictable and well-worn, his days filled with taking care the Family Business in the small town where everyone knows him by name. It doesn’t leave much space for adventure or excitement, and that’s fine. He has his job, taking care of his mother’s legacy, his friends, and his genius little brother going places.  All signs points to this being all that the Fate has in store for Dean - until an unexpected nighttime meeting with a mysterious wizard on a run from the law leaves him suddenly involved with precisely the kind of shady magical dealings he’d avoided all his life.  Struggling with an ineffable curse, his familiar life turned suddenly upside down, the search for a remedy leads him straight back to the person who started it all - and who unfortunately seems to be a bit of a dick. And since when things like that even happen to older brothers?

Excerpt: Dean realised his mistake the second the words left his mouth, but it was too late. He saw the soldier’s eyes widen, and his face contort further in a maddened scowl, lips drawn, showing ugly, yellowed teeth. He watched, transfixed, as the guy raised his fist, and managed to think that “drunk, pummelled to death by assholes” was definitely not how he wanted to go, when a low, gravelly voice cut through. “Thats enough.” The soldier stopped mid-motion, frozen. Dean blinked a few times, before taking his eyes off the fist suspended in front of his face. He might’ve had gotten a little cross-eyed.  Quick survey of the scene told him that the other soldier was immobilised as well. Behind him, the tramp stood with his left arm outstretched. He somehow looked decidedly less scrawny and grimy, even despite the dirty longcoat and general unkemptness. His blue eyes almost seemed to glow.  He made a shooing motion and mumbled something unintelligible, causing the soldiers to turn and walk away in complete silence, their moves weirdly stiff and unnatural, then sighed deeply.  “You just had to insert yourself into this situation, didn’t you?” he asked Dean, a displeased scowl on his face. “Typical. Every day in this country there is a thousand injustices and nobody bats an eye, but when I need to be left alone suddenly there are wannabe heroes falling from the sky.” He looked derisively at the staircase behind Dean. “I can’t depend even on human callousness.” “Hey!” Dean reddened, rapidly growing to regret his decision to stand up for the guy. “I could swear ‘thanks’ is the customary phrase when somebody bravely comes to your rescue like that.“ “‘Thanks’?” Dean goggled as the weirdo actually gesticulated the air quotes. “You come in, you interfere with my… activities, pointlessly run your mouth and force me to save you, ruining my plan, and you expect to be thanked?”  “Well, excuse me for wanting to help a down-and-out like you getting the crap beaten out of him-” “It’s a disguise,” he hissed, waving his hand up and down, and huh. If Dean had had any doubts about the guy being a wizard (not that he had any, after the puppeteer show with the soldiers), they’d dissipate right then. With every pass of his hand, the man seemed to wipe off the hobo persona. His clothes got clean and less wrinkly, although the terrible coat remained shapeless, sagging from his shoulders. His dark hair was no longer matted with sweat and grime - now it looked messy, like the guy was carding his hands through it just a minute ago. Dirt and the grubby beard disappeared from his face, leaving behind only a slight five o’clock shadow and a pissed off expression. He even seemed to grow a couple inches. “Not bad,” Dean praised. “I’d lose the coat, though.”

DCBB 2022 Posting Schedule

#dcbb 2022 #fic preview #2022 promo #deancas #destiel

[rexc0re]

“I don’t need a star..child…thing…whatever you are to decide MY future!” — star!glowduo

A/N: WAHOO! Yellow everyone and welcome to my first star glowduo writing smile. Won’t be talking abt it too much for spoilers but just know it is much more serious than the last writing, do what you will with that information :)

SUMMARY: Shooting stars are beautiful things, stars in general are. But when the shooting star looks like a human and starts explaining how they’ve watched you grow up things can get a bit messy…

WARNINGS: angst, yelling, descriptions of traumatic memories - bullying, rejection, loss of friends

Working in the museum was a great job! That is until you’re stuck with the closing shit and have to walk into each and every room to check for weirdos who might stick around. Luckily for Aimsey, he got stuck with that job tonight. It was a calm night so far so good they’ve managed to get through about almost every room with no weirdos to be found!

Now the last room she had to check just happened to be stars favorite. The sky viewing room. Along the walls displayed are photos of the sky at important points in history. But the real amazing part was the glass ceiling. Now looking through it during the day was always nice, but at night was when it was truly at its full beauty. The room itself utilizes sunlight as it’s lighting so at night you are completely surrounded by the stars and the ethereal moonlight.

Since xey had started the closing shift a bit earlier, she had the chance to sit and take in the sky for a bit before they had to leave. Pulling out a sketchbook and taking a seat on the marble floor Aimsey shuts off his flashlight and proceeds to draw the night sky with some fun doodles added in.

After doodling for a big Aimsey looks up, and would you look at that!! A shooting star! It’s wonderful and star closes his eyes to make a wish. But as she is making that wish a loud crash is heard.

Scrambling to stand up Aimsey stands up, stuffs their belongs back into the bag and turns on the flashlight pointing it around the room….nothing. Checking near by rooms, still nothing. The next logical choice is to lock up and go home maybe even call the cops.

Definitely, surely, you’re not supposed to go outside with no defense besides a flashlight and a somewhat heavy bag to find the source of the crash. Yet, that’s what Aimsey finds himself doing. Looking around the main garden there seems to be nothing. Until…they spot a light glowing from behind a tree and…is that…glitter?

Turning the flashlight off and carefully walking around to see behind the tree what aimsey sees is not what he expected. Sitting on the ground holding their head is a person? Definitely not human as he happens to have black and white skin, paper white hair that seems sparkly, freckles that look like stars, and is he glowing???

“Jeez Lussa next time we come to earth can we maybe not use the shooting star method.”

At first it seems like they’re talking to themselves before he opens up the fancy coat he’s wearing. Out floats a little star, presumably Lussa, who makes lots of angry gestures with her little arms that leaves the lad with a annoyed look on his face.

They continue their bickering until Aimsey decides that it’s enough and turns xeys flashlight back on pointed right at Lussa and mystery guy over there.

“Who. The hell. Are you two???”

The human like one stands up and whips around to face Aimsey as Lussa hides behinds his head. He stands their awkwardly like a deer in headlights (their tail really sells the whole look) until he speaks up.

“Uhm…hi?? I’m Ranboo!”

He proceeds to give Aimsey the most awkward smile xey has ever seen. She raises an eyebrow and moves a bit closer to squint at their face.

“Ranboo??? What kind of name is that?? Are you an alien?”

He squints their eyes more as Ranboo leans backwards a bit.

“No, yes?, no. I’m a Star child! Sent by Astraeus! Ya know titan star god? Yea I work for that dude!”

Aimsey gives him a blank stare. From behind Ranboos head, Lussa slaps her tiny palm onto her face.

“So you work for the Greek god Astraeus?”

“Yep!”

A moment of silence. Aimsey decides to play along with this tall tale and entertain the idea that Ranboo really is the person he says he is.

“So then what are you doing here on earth? Why would he send you here?”

Ranboos expression shifts as Aimsey can tell he is deciding what to say next.

“Well you see that’s the fun part. Funny thing is I’m uh…I’m your star spirit! Haha fun woo! Uhm..”

Ranboo shifts their gaze to the floor and then looks up after a few moments. Instead of finding the face of anger he expected he finds a look of confusion painted across Aimseys face.

“I’m sorry, you’re my what?”

“You know, your star spirit! Every human gets assigned a Star child at birth and from that point forward that child is their star spirit! We make big decisions all throughout your life and make sure you’re staying on the right track to accomplish your assigned destiny! Like do example most recently I decided that you’ll be moving into that house on maple street in a few months!”

Now, Ranboo was all smiles and happy he could finally meet his human! Aimsey on the other hand was horrified. He has been looking at a house on maple street. He has been making arrangements to move in in a few months. How Ranboo could know that xey had no idea. This is very overwhelming and suddenly there is an overflowing emotion of hurt, confusion, and anger.

Why had the universe felt the need to assign this..this…person to decide what happens in their life. Why couldn’t it be his decision. She didn’t need this random child from the stars to do it for them.

“And…why did Astraeus feel the need to give me a star spirit?”

“Well I told you, everyone gets one! To-“

“To make sure we stay on track for our destiny I got that but why do you need to be making big decisions in my life. I mean shouldn’t that be my choice?? I’m the one living it for crying out loud.”

Ranboo paused and there was a look of discomfort and pain on his face. This was not how this meeting was supposed to go. Aimsey had a point. She should be able to have complete control of their own life. This was something that Ranboo had brought up to Astraeus plenty of times and yet he never listened. Always went on some sort of tangent on how these humans needed people like Ranboo. To make sure they made it to their destiny.

Destiny.

What even is a destiny? Something a god you’ll never know of or meet decides for you? Well that just seems unfair.

As Ranboo kept contemplating what to say next, Aimsey decided to speak up for himself.

“I don’t need a star…child…thing…whatever you are, to decided MY future. That’s something I should be able to decide not you. And didn’t you say you decide how big things happen in my life? Well you sure have done a shit job at that! What about in primary when those kids just wouldn’t leave me alone? Or when my girlfriend cheated on me right before prom?? Or when I lost my best friend of 10 years? Hm? What about those times. Where those incidents all to get me to here? Working at a run down museum that’s going out of business and living in a shitty old apartment? All for this destiny thing you speak of??”

By now the reality that star had never actually made a decision for themselves in their life had hit Aimsey. It had hit Ranboo too. As they spoke more going on and on about all the things that have negatively affected Aimsey in his life Ranboo realized more and more how messed up his job was.

Tears were spilling out of Aimseys eyes as he kept talking and soon those tears turned to sobs as they shoved Ranboo a bit pushing him back. As Aimsey stands there crying into his arm Ranboo cautiously walks forward a bit. When he sets their hand on Aimseys shoulder and he dosent move away Ranboo pulls them into a very awkward-sibling like-hug.

“I’m sorry..I know how frustrating it is and trust me I’ve tried to talk to Astraeus about it for a while but he just won’t listen. If you’d like, we could maybe be friends? I’d still stay as your star spirit but this time you can put input into the decisions I make? That way you’d have more control of your life?”

Aimsey sniffles a bit and the pulls away from the hug. Looking up at Ranboo with a small smile and red eyes he says,

“I think I’d like that. But, first of all you’ve gotta tell me how you get your hair that shiny!! I mean it’s like there’s glitter in there!!! And also introduce me to you’re adorable star friend!!”

They both turn to Lussa who appears to be blushing. They both laugh and awkwardly pull away from the hug. Ranboo takes a seat and after a moment Aimsey sits down as well. Looking at the stars together, as friends this time, they begin a new chapter in their lives.

A/N: HELLLOOOO!! I hope everyone enjoyed the tiny bit of angst I snuck in there it made me hashtag sad. But also I hope you enjoy this cause I sure did I’m actually proud of this piece this time and would love to hear ur thoughts por favor smile and lastly reblogs are nice or something i still don’t really know how’s this site works shrugs okay bye bye see you next time with another writing YIPPIE

#star Ranboo #star au #ranboo #ranboolive #star glowduo #glowduo #aimsey #writing #writers on tumblr #yippie #star ranboo number one silly #i Heart star glowduo #tags or something idk

[milkywaygg]

Time’s Passing-Chapter 1 (FOP Fanfic)

AN: I received an idea from nalooksthrough on Tumblr and I thought I’d give it a shot since I like writing ideas that other people give me. I was going to write a little bit on an older Luna, and still plan on it, but I hadn’t really had much ideas towards that direction, but I promise it’s coming lol.

Since I’m writing this, I’ve gotten a few comments on how they liked Darren, and I was kind of starting to wonder why Darren is so likeable to people, despite being a fraudulent and a bit materialistic and hot-headed. Out of all 3 of the Cosma children, I always felt like Darren was the closest to Nora’s personality so I wondered what the charm was with him. Idk. Let me know what you think.

Clutching his stomach as it growled lightly, Darren Cosma, or “Schnozmo” as he liked to go by, stepped off the Fairy World bus on a cold, twilight December night, with only the street lights and shops illuminating his path. After he heard the bus behind him shut the doors behind him, Darren began floating towards a building with a neon green “Bar” sign glowing, alongside a picture of a martini glass with an olive in it. As he had gotten closer to the bar, Darren also started to catch glimpses of a warm white light, and rock music that reminded him of his sister Chelsea’s band, The Killer Fairies, with ear-splitting percussion and an excess of electric guitar solos.

Darren considered himself quite lucky that the state hadn’t thoroughly gone through his pockets after he had to turn in his clothes. As he took a seat towards the bar, alongside some female fairies that were casting him strange looks, Darren dug around in his jeans until he found his secret pocket, pulling out a nice $40 bill and handing it to the bartender.

“I’ll have a jack and coke.”, Darren grunted, “And I’ll have a burger slider with some fries.”

“Sure. You wanna start a tab?”

“Nah. I’m only here for a meal and a drink.”

The bartender left to give Darren’s order to the chef as he lied his head down on the table, all the exhaustion falling on his face as he contemplated his next move, trying hard not to fall asleep. He heard whispers from the women sitting next to him as the music started to die down, with only the sound of clinking plates complimenting the whispers.

“Isn’t that Darren Cosma?”

“Yeah, don’t bother buying him a drink. He’ll just use his good looks to charm you out of a few bucks. Hell, he’ll probably order the most expensive drink and a shit ton of food.”

“Who said I thought he was good looking? He’s got that big ass, ugly nose. I mean, he wouldn’t look too bad if he got a nose job, but even then, I don’t date criminals.”

“Yeah. He’s got no respect for women.”

“Hey!”, Darren shot up, finally hearing a familiar voice coming from behind him. Chelsea glared at the women sitting next to him, clutching her ruby red guitar in her left hard, as if she were going to use it as a club. “You weirdos come here often, shit-talking men like that?”

“Uhhh….”

“Pfft..yeah that’s what I thought. Leave him the hell alone, you freaks.”, Chelsea snapped, taking a seat on Darren’s left, opposite of the other two women. Darren stared at Chelsea with a keen interest, studying her immensely. She looks a bit older than what she used to when they were growing up, her eyes slightly baggier, and her face looked slightly aged. Her lime green hair was still a shaggy, long hairstyle topped off with a black beanie, complimenting her leather jacket and black jeans outfit, alongside maroon boots with gold spikes, reminding Darren of a skinnier version of a biker. Her jacket also had a patch of her band’s logo on the back, written with a green-flame font.

“Chelsea? Damn, how long has it been?”, Darren asked, smiling slightly at her. She shrugged.

“Lost count. How’ve you been Darren? Where’d you go?”

“Really? Have you been living under a rock or some shit?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you ever read the news?”

“No. I’ve been way too busy to keep up with busy.”

“Let’s just say I’ve finally gotten a title for my reputation.”, Darren started, “I’m officially Fairy World’s first male prisoner since 10,000 years ago.”

“Woooow go figure.”, Chelsea frowned, rolling her eyes, “I keep telling you if you continued scamming people like that-“

“Alright alright alright, I get it! I didn’t come here for a nagging fest. Damn…”, Darren groaned, thanking the bartender that delivered his food, before taking a bite of his burger, feeling as if his tastebuds were finally getting the massage they deserved, “Oh my god..where have these been all my life?”

“Did you get the slider?”, Chelsea asked, “I dunno why you think they’re good. The meat’s dry as hell even with sauce.”

“Well, if you’ve had nothing but slop for the past 10 years, literally anything else tastes like heaven in comparison.”, Darren said, practically inhaling the rest of his burger before getting started on his fries, feeling his throat starting to tighten up from eating too fast.

“Damn Darren, those fries aren’t gonna grow legs and run away.”, Chelsea chuckled, before looking at her older brother with a somewhat worried look on her face, “So for the past few years, you’ve been in prison? How’s that been?’

“What do you think? It’s been a living hell, but I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it right now. I’ve got bigger problems”, Darren complained, “I dunno where I’m going to be staying this evening. At this point, it’s been so long since I’ve paid any rent that I’m pretty sure someone else is living in my apartment right now and probably got rid of all my stuff. I don’t have anywhere to go.”

“Eh..not necessarily. I know some apartments will let people sublease if the tenant is going away for a while. It probably depends on your contract. I’d try to find your landlord’s phone number and ask.”, Chelsea shrugged, “I’m actually staying at a hotel tonight, otherwise I’d let you crash. I’m sure Papa’ll let you stay at his place though. I’m sure he misses you.”

“Oh hell no, not after the 18,000 years of hell we’ve been through. I’d rather live out on the streets than go back to the scumbag we call a mother.”

“Heh…funny thing about Nora actually. She’s….gone.”

“Gone?”, Darren asked, ears perked up in interest, “Like, did she finally leave Dad or something.”

“No. She passed away a couple of years ago in a magic accident, kind of like Grandma if you remember.”, Chelsea explained, “Papa moved out of that old, crooked house, and is living in the apartments a couple of blocks down from here if you wanna head over there?”

“I don’t know if I can face him right now, Chelsea.”, Darren sighed, his usual cold, hard exterior melting somewhat, “I mean, I can’t imagine how disappointed he must be in me. Hell, wouldn’t surprise me if he flat out told me to go fuck myself.”

“Oh come on, since when has Papa ever turned you down? I think more than anything, he’d want to reconnect with you. You are his first born child afterall.”, Chelsea pleaded, “And It’s not like you have any other choice…other than Cosmo, but you’d be staying with his family too.”

“Family? Good lord, how much did I miss?”

“Quite a bit, but to be fair, I honestly really only know because Papa tells me. I’m not much more active in their lives as you are.”, Chelsea explained, “You remember Wanda? Cosmo’s girlfriend?”

“Yea”

“They finally got around to getting married, and they got knocked up with a girl. Think she’s about 10 or 12,000 now or some shit, don’t really remember. Papa also said he also overheard them thinking about possibly another child.”

“Oh really now. What’s the kid’s name?”

“Cassia, I think. You’ll have to ask Cosmo. I don’t know a whole lot about his daughter myself.”, Chelsea shrugged, before paying Darren’s bill, who looked at her in confusion as he had his own money out, “Keep your money. You’re gonna need it. Now come on, Papa’s not a very heavy sleeper. I’m sure we can wake him up if we get over there early. Enough.”

#fairly oddparents #fanfic #papa cosmo #Cosma family #nickelodeon

[mostlygibberish]

"Well, I guess there is a big rat."

I liked the part with the rats.

A bunch of lab rats are exposed to Glowing Green Chemicals and become evil killers. That's the entirety of the plot. Aside from the humour value I got out of the killer rats and all the dialogue concerning them, this movie was objectively ratshit.

The characters were all boring, barely having personalities at all, but at least their dialogue made it instantly clear they were all unlikeable people. The only one worth mentioning was Gary, who immediately gave up all hope at the first hint of danger and started barricading his friends in with the rats, later saying to himself "I tried my best" as though he didn't throw them under the bus without hesitation.

One couple predictably decided to ditch the others and make out, but all that involved was the guy kissing her stomach awkwardly for a while as a bizarre techno soundtrack blared. They then moved into the next room to do almost exactly the same thing a second time for some reason. Rats didn't even attack them during all this, so it served no purpose besides a brief glimpse of body double nipples. 

A lot of this movie was just these weirdos arguing with each other and talking about finding a missing rat. When the rats were actually around they were a mix of real rats looking vaguely uninterested, CGI rats looking menacing, and fake rats being held by the actors or pinned to their clothing as people were being killed. 

The pièce de résistance was when a giant rat, presumably the one that makes all of the rules, showed up to tear people's arms off and eat their faces. It was very clearly a person wearing a human sized rat suit, and the camera lingered hilariously long on it casually ambling along on two legs.

All the camerawork was messy. Slow scenes had excessively strange angles, there was a composite effect of a rat growing bigger that has to be seen to be believed, and the attack segments were edited so rapidly you couldn't possibly make out what was happening.

An objectively terrible movie that I couldn't help but love.

#altered species #rodentz #altered species 2001 #rodentz 2001 #movie review

[bombbusiness]

beach day love

(Unfinished not all of it is canon but some of it is and it might be re used)

Marge wakes up and heads to the dining room to see Kat making a little smiley pancake.

M:(tirely) ”good morning”

K: “Magandang araw mahal.”

M: “Magandang what?”

K: “Good morning Love.”

M: “Haha cute”

K: “I’m not! I’m adorable! Look at me!”

Kat lifts up her hair for the first time in front of Marge showing her eyes. Her eyes were strangely multicolored, one brown and one green.

M: First time seeing your eyes. Still cute, but why are your eyes different? you seem confident, I like it”

K: “O//O well uhh I-I don't know! My mom told me I have monochromia or sumn. *Shrugs*”

M: “Oh ok, your pancakes are burnt.”

K: “SHIT!”

Kat runs to the pan and flips. The smiley face is ruined. :(.

K: “Hope you like burnt pancakes cause i made it for you”

M:” how can i eat oh wait i got an idea!”

Marge runs to his staff grabbing it then takes a deep breath holding the staff tight, as a space black figure appears before slowly fading into Marge.

M:”i-I don't believe it! MY BODY!”

As he possesses the copy he shivers with joy looking at his blocky hands.

K: “OMG! MAKE ME ONE.”

M: “To be honest i don't know how i did it i don't think i can but i can try.”

K: “Hmm.. If you make my body, you can play with it however you’d like”

M: “im sorry what”

K: “You heard me~”

Marge looks very confused but also a bit red.

M:”I’ll try it, don't expect much.”

Marge Grabs his staff and takes a deep breath, the cube glows white and shines a light at Kat’s core. The light turns off as The cube turns a shade of Pink. A black figure with Kat's Body appears. The figure turns to Kat, suddenly Ram horns start to grow on top. The skin renders in as a pastel pink body before changing to Kat’s real skin.

M: “Told you not to expect much, look there’s horns.”

K: “Hun it's perfect.”

Kat possesses her clone

M:”Wait, did you just call me hun?”

K: “Did you forget the reason you did this baby~”

M: “uhhhhh*”

K: “Imma go get myself a big brew. We're still doing it! I'm keeping my promise!.”

M:”uh no i'm good. hey spezz do you want your body?”

S: “Nah i’m good!”

M:”alrighty”

Marge goes ahead and takes the burnt pancake sitting at the table.

M:”sitting down feels amazing. My ass hasn't felt this good since-”

S: “Since when!”

M: “Since your mom, no i'm kidding, since the last time i sat on a sandy beach, looking at the sun.!”

K: “You like sand in your ass?”

M: “NO! . . . well-”

K: “Well?”

M: “Well uhh wanna go to the beach!!”

K: ‘Sure i can collect some for you weirdo”

M:"Well is it as weird as Whatever you do!”

K: “Yeah, I have nothing to protect. Nothing here, not a single cell of pride and dignity.”

M: “yea fair but still wanna be teleported to the beach? I mean I have Power now and Zandra and Dazed aren't here so we don't have anyone to wait for.”

K: “You cant even see the beach to use your pearls”

M:” well looks like we're driving then”

K: “We’re flying there. The beach is 6 countries from here. Imma buy the tickets.”

M: “We have wings though why are you making tickets?”

K: “Ok why not glide”

M: “??”

K: “Flying like other birds will make us too exhausted we glide and then flap”

M:”I got an idea, what if I just teleport us there?”

K: “I already told you you can't use Pearls-”

M: “No! I can just TP us to it using commands. Does that sound good?”

K:”oh well we can do that”

M: “I need some coords”

K: “OOh i know one! ⁦14°32'36"N⁩ ⁦120°58'08"E⁩”

M: “What, how, that's impressive!. Just give me a second, oh and grab onto me.”

Marge takes a deep breath as Kat hugs him.

K: “How are you so blocky yet so ripped”

M: “Thank you (inhales) ℸ ̣ ᒷꖎᒷ!¡𝙹∷ℸ ̣ ᒲᒷ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ∷𝙹 ̇/ᔑᓭ ʖꖎ⍊↸, ᒲᔑꖎᔑℸ ̣ ᒷ, ᒲᔑリ╎ꖎᔑ, ᒲᒷℸ ̣ ∷𝙹 ᒲᔑリ╎ꖎ”

They suddenly pop out and into existence and now they're on a beach.

M: “Ok you got your phone on you for pics right?”

K: “What phone”

M: “Let's take a selfie later ok… why are people staring?”

K: *Whispering* ”They think we’re gay dude”

M:*whispering” “I’m pansexual”

K: “Yeah me too..”

M: “I thought you were trans.”

K: “No.. i just like she/her pronouns im Pan”

M: “Kat wanna let go?”

K: “No I have a boner I can't let go or it would be weirder.. Please carry me to one of the cabins.”

M: “Fine”

Marge walks around looking for a good cabin to take,finally seeing one he walks into the cabin, setting Kat on the couch. Kat pulls out a bag full of sand and grins.

K: “Alright weirdo, I got the sand.”

M: “Seriously? I don't like sand in my ass dude.”

K: “I am 200% more on board without the sand.”

M:”wha? I'm not doing the deed with you.”

K: “Oh thank fuck. Go on have fun with the beach while this settles down.”

M: “Ok I’ll be on the west side.”

Marge leaves to go to the beach. Kat gets bored so she turns on the tv.

K: “Why do they have 20 shows on the hurricanes and one spongebob channel? I’ll just watch the spongebob one.”

She puts it on and starts to stare at the Tv with a blank face, while on the spongebob channel.

K: “What is wrong with me… why don't I try just doing what he does, YES i'm a genius!”

#cringe #ewww #Why did I write this??