#had a lot of fun with the colors though i think that green is delightful

[beatriceportinari]

Brook trout - Origami, one sheet of paper

#mine #origami #trout #fish #original model is by Fukuroi Kazuki #you can find the diagram in the origami tanteidan 26th edition book #which is on z-library bc z-lib is back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #cheer and clap everyone #i wouldn't necessarily rec folding this one bc the head is entirely asymetrical - the mouth is only visible on one side #but you know fun trout model and the tanteidan diagrams are always so well done so do you what you'd like #don't do like me and use wenzhou paper that you've made go through the ringer though lol #it'd benefit from smth a bit more solid and there's nothing complex enough to necessitate a paper than thin #had a lot of fun with the colors though i think that green is delightful

[beomgyucoded]

Best Friend!Yeonjun x Reader

Prompt: "Can I kiss you?"

Word Count: 1,710

Part 1 of the First Kiss Series

A warm breeze brushed against your skin as you stepped outside. The sky was a clear, vibrant blue with fluffy white clouds scattered across it. The grass beneath your feet was a lush, emerald green and the flowers bloomed in an array of bright colors, filling the air with their sweet fragrance. You heard the familiar chime of your phone and saw a text from your best friend Yeonjun asking if you wanted to hang out today. 

You met Yeonjun when you moved to Seoul for high school. When you first arrived, the bustling city was overwhelming and intimidating. But Yeonjun, with his effortless charm and outgoing nature, made sure the pretty new girl felt welcome. You two found that you got along well, and shared many common interests. As time passed, your bond with Yeonjun grew stronger as you discovered more shared interests and spent countless hours laughing and exploring together. Eventually, he became more than just a friend, he was your confidant, your support system, your best friend. And you were grateful for his friendship every day. 

You replied a simple "sure" to his text and asked where to meet him, since you were already outside. He quickly replied saying to meet up at your spot. It was a small, secluded park not far from your neighborhood, where the two of you often went to escape the bustling city and find solace in each other's company. With a smile on your face, you began making your way towards the park. As you walked, memories of all the adventures (and misadventures) you and Yeonjun shared came to mind. There was that time you both somehow got lost in the heart of the city, stumbling upon hidden alleyways filled with cozy cafes and quaint bookstores. And there was the time he decided you should take a spontaneous road trip, driving for hours without any destination in mind. When you arrived at the park, Yeonjun was already waiting for you on a bench under a blossoming cherry tree. His eyes lit up when he saw you, a smile spreading across his face. You couldn't help but feel your heart skip a beat at the sight of him. Yeonjun has always had that effect on you, his presence bringing warmth to your heart. 

You walked towards him, the soft grass cushioning your footsteps. The cherry blossoms danced in the gentle breeze, their petals falling delicately around you. As you approached the bench, Yeonjun stood up and pulled you into a warm embrace, holding you tightly against his chest. 

“Did you wait long?” you asked him softly after pulling away. 

He shook his head no, even though he did wait for a little while, and threw an arm around your shoulders. 

You smiled and leaned into him, “So, what did you want to do?”

“I was thinking we do our usual,” he said and smirked knowingly. 

You groaned at his mischievous smirk, knowing exactly what he meant by "our usual." It was like a secret code the two of you had developed over time, a signal for your special escapades. As fun as they were, Yeonjun had a lot more energy than you did and your “usual” always left you tired. With a playful glint in his eyes, Yeonjun led you towards a hidden pathway that snaked through the park, lined with blooming flowers and vibrant greenery. The path lead to a secluded clearing, surrounded by tall trees that created a natural canopy above. You two discovered this place during your senior year of high school, and went there often. As you reached the clearing, you noticed a blanket spread out on the grass, adorned with a picnic basket and a bouquet of your favorite flowers. 

Your eyes widened in surprise, along with delight. 

"Oh, Jjunie," you whispered, touched by his thoughtful gesture. 

Yeonjun flashed you a lopsided grin, his eyes sparkling with affection. 

"I wanted to do something special for my best friend," he confessed, his voice filled with sincerity.

“And give you a little break,” he teased, knowing how tired you got on your adventures. 

You chuckled, appreciating his consideration.

“Well, I appreciate both the special gesture and the break," you replied playfully, sinking down onto the blanket. 

Yeonjun joined you, sitting cross-legged next to you, that mischievous glimmer still present in his eyes.

As you both began to enjoy the delicious spread of food he had prepared, a comfortable silence fell before you. The sun filtered through the leaves above and cast a gentle glow upon your faces. It was moments like these where you truly appreciate the beauty of your friendship. Watching you with a soft expression, Yeonjun reached to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear. You smiled sweetly at the gesture. This wasn’t anything new, Yeonjun was always touchy with you, and you never minded.  

“Ready?” he asked as he saw you finishing up. 

You looked up at him confused. 

“Ready for what..?”

“You didn’t think this was all we were doing today, did you?” He asked, that teasing tone ever present in his voice. 

Yeonjun always had a knack for surprises, and this time was no different it seemed. You watched with anticipation as he pulled out two movie tickets from his back pocket, waving them in front of you.

"I thought we could go see that new action film you've been dying to see," he said, excitement evident in his voice.

“I’d… I’d really like that, yeah,” you said and smiled up at him. 

He was always so thoughtful, there were times when he knew just what you needed even before you did. The movie theater wasn't far from the park, so you made it just in time to see all the previews. Inside the dimly lit theater, you found yourselves nestled comfortably in two plush seats in the back row. The previews began to play on the screen, and Yeonjun leaned closer to whisper in your ear, the sudden close proximity causing you to jump.

"I'm glad I could make you smile today," he murmured.

​​His warm breath tickled your ear, causing your cheeks to heat up. You turned to face him, feeling the heat between the two of you grow.

"You always make me smile," you whispered back, your voice barely audible over the sound of the movie trailers. 

Two hours later, the two of you walked out of the movie theater, one of Yeonjun’s arms slung around your shoulders as usual. You walked through the city, window shopping with the promise of coming back tomorrow to go actual shopping. You remember him saying that he felt like having ice cream, so you pulled him towards the ice cream parlor and told him to get whatever he wanted. As you stood in line, Yeonjun's arm still draped casually around your shoulders, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. The day had been perfect, from the surprise picnic to the action-packed movie, and now the cherry on top- treating your best friend to ice cream.

Yeonjun's eyes scanned the variety of flavors displayed behind the glass counter, a grin finding its way onto his lips. You knew that grin all too well, it meant trouble. 

"Jjunie..." you trailed off, sounding nervous as you glanced up at him. His mischievous smile widened as he looked down at you, his eyes twinkling with amusement. 

"What's wrong, (Y/N)? Don't trust me to choose your ice cream?" he teased, his voice laced with playful innocence.

You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what Yeonjun was capable of when it came to making choices for you.

"You know exactly why I'm nervous," you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. 

Yeonjun let out a hearty laugh, his arm tightening around your shoulders.

"Don't worry, I won't make you try any weird flavors this time," he assured you with a playful wink.

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously, but couldn't help but be intrigued by the mischievous glint in his eyes. Yeonjun turned his attention back to the counter and pointed at a flavor that seemed relatively normal compared to his usual choices. He ended up picking both your and his favorite, suggesting the two of you share. Walking out of the ice cream parlor, the two of you found a nearby bench to sit on. The warm summer air wrapped around you as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over everything in its path. You sat close to each other, your shoulders touching as you savored the sweet treat in your hand. Yeonjun was oddly quiet, and as you were about to look at what he was up to, the sound of his voice broke the silence.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your heart raced at his sudden question. The air around you seemed to thicken, filled with a potent mix of anticipation and nervousness. You stared into his eyes, searching for any hint of jest or playfulness, but all you found was sincerity and longing. Your mind raced, trying to process the weight of his question. Yeonjun's gaze never wavered, his eyes locked onto yours as he awaited your response. The world seemed to hold its breath, also waiting for your answer. His question remained up in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken desires, as you continued to think. You had been best friends for years, but there had always been an undercurrent of something more between the two of you. You always thought it was one sided, but now, with his sudden question hanging in the air, you realized that it was time to explore what lay beyond friendship.

With a soft smile, you leaned closer to him, your heart still pounding in your chest. 

"Yes," you whispered, your voice carrying the unspoken promise of something new.

As the word left your lips, Yeonjun's face raised slightly with relief. His eyes sparkled with joy as he closed the remaining distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a gentle, tender kiss. It was soft and sweet, a perfect reflection of the emotions swirling between you. His lips felt warm against yours, fitting perfectly as if they were always meant to be there. 

a/n: and here’s jjunie’s part! These are taking a lot longer than I planned to write so please bear with me ♡

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#✎˖ᝰbeomgyucoded✧˖° #Choi Yeonjun #choi yeonjun x reader #choi yeonjun imagines #choi yeonjun fluff #yeonjun fluff #txt drabbles #txt fluff #yeonjun #yeonjun imagines #Yeonjun fluff #⇢ ˗ˏˋ yeonjun 🦊 ࿐ྂ

[estherruth-jonsatrash]

Arya's Brother

Written for @jonsa-halloween event!

Oct. 30th: Costume Also on AO3

(Partially inspired by the song "Cate's Brother" by Maisie Peters)

Sansa knew she and Arya were unlikely friends. Truly, if they hadn’t been roomed together freshman year of college they likely wouldn’t have been more than passing acquaintances, at best. And in those first few weeks of dorm life, they were so different from each other both had secretly appealed to get a dorm-mate switch before being told they would have to adjust. Sansa and Arya had laughed together about it, and whatever differences they had, they found the other to be a good influence and shared a few important things. They had similar senses of humor, and Arya’s determination on her soccer team was much like Sansa’s commitment to her studies.

Arya helped Sansa learn how to stand up for herself and not allow being polite to make her a pushover. Sansa helped Arya rein in her temper and be a little more diplomatic at times.

By their sophomore year, the girls were thick as thieves. A fact Sansa was grateful for when she decided to throw a Halloween party and Arya had been the first to RSVP, even if Arya said she thought RSVPs as a concept were “fucking stupid.” Arya had appreciated Sansa’s handmade invitations with an orange and black color palette (obviously) and little cartoon witch and black cat.

Of course Gendry was a given plus-one, but Arya also mentioned off-handedly she was bringing along her brother Jon who had just moved to the city. Sansa knew Arya loved her older brother Jon a lot even if she’d never met him, and she’d told Arya to definitely bring him along.

Sansa was dressed up as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, ruby red slippers, the dress and even the little basket, even though Lady couldn’t possibly fit in it and pass for Toto. She remembered she’d told Arya her costume when she spotted the short girl with the dark hair, a witch’s hat and green face paint, as she realized Arya had themed their costumes together. She smiled and when Arya’s face lit up, she rushed to hug Sansa.

“Sansa!” Arya excitedly said as they embraced. “You look great! I have to steal your slippers tonight!”

“It’s good to see you too, Arya,” Sansa said with a laugh. They hadn’t seen each other as often since they had graduated months ago. “And I don’t think the Wicked Witch ever gets the slippers in the story.”

Arya scrunched her nose and raised her voice to a shrill pitch. “I’ll get you, my pretty! And your big-ass dog, too!” she said, motioning to Lady in the corner, who raised her head slightly as Arya pointed at her.

Sansa giggled as Lady laid her head back down and Arya muttered some guard dog.

“Where’s Gendry?” Sansa asked as she got some punch for herself and Arya.

Arya rolled her eyes. “He’s talking with Hot Pie. You won’t believe this: he wouldn’t be my flying monkey!” she complained.

“And you didn’t break up with him on the spot?” Sansa asked incredulously.

Arya’s eyes gleamed as they fell back into their repartee easily. “No, but I did warn him he’s on thin ice.” Arya chuckled and took a look around the room before turning to Sansa once more. “Sansa, did you meet my brother?”

Sansa had nearly forgotten about the guest she’d never met. “No, I didn’t,” she said, eager to put a face to the name she’d heard so many times.

“Jon!” Arya yelled into the morass of the crowd, waving him over.

And Sansa saw what was quite possibly the most handsome man she had ever seen.

In what was quite possibly the silliest costume.

Jon’s perfect features were twisted with an adorable embarrassment as he ambled over, the little black wings jostled with each step. His curls were pulled back and a small blue hat rested on his head, with a matching blue miniature vest.

“I made him my flying monkey!” Arya said with delighted laughter as Jon blushed.

“Ha, ha, I’m glad you’re having so much fun Arya,” Jon said as he scowled at his sister.

It was for the best that his eyes hadn’t met Sansa’s yet—even in his absurd outfit Sansa’s heart seemed to flutter at the sight of him and the gravelly sound of his voice.

“I really am,” Arya confirmed wickedly. “This is my friend Sansa.”

Then Jon looked at her and if her heart had fluttered before, it seemed to take flight now. His stormy grey eyes lost the edge he’d had and softened into a kindness that made her feel weak. “Hi Sansa, it’s nice to finally meet you,” he said with a sincere smile, offering his hand for her to shake.

“Hi Jon,” Sansa returned and shook his hand. It might be a cliché to say that Sansa felt sparks, but she felt it from her head to her toes, the feel of his hand in hers electric. “And likewise.” Her eyes were looking in his, and he didn’t let go of her hand. They lingered until Arya coughed and Sansa and Jon shook themselves out of it.

“Um, can I get you something to drink?” Sansa asked, attempting to go back into hostess mode and tamp down the blush she was sure must be rising in her cheeks.

Jon looked at the table with punch and other snacks and gave her a smirk. “Actually, maybe water, so I can try and melt this one,” he said pointing to Arya.

“Hey!” Arya scolded as Jon and Sansa laughed together. Oh. She really liked the sound of his laughter, butterflies in her stomach now. “I’m not going to melt but I’ll be damned before I let you ruin this green makeup!” Arya barked.

Soon after, Arya left the two of them. She asked Jon how he was doing since his recent move and learned Jon taught literature at a nearby high school.

Sansa had known from Arya that Jon was a teacher, but not that he taught literature. Swoon.

“I guess you must have a problem with the ruby slippers, like the movie instead of the book,” Sansa said.

At her words, Jon looked her up and down with heated eyes that made her feel flush. “Well, normally I would. But those slippers go so well with the red hair,” he said, daringly reaching out to lightly brush a lock of her hair with his fingertips. Jon would normally never be so bold, but he had felt an immediate connection to the gorgeous redhead, had wanted to touch her, and something within him told him she’d be receptive.

Sansa swayed toward him and took a sip of her punch to keep her from jumping him then and there. Though from the looks of it, Jon wouldn’t mind.

She and Jon talked all night.

And okay, she didn’t set out to date Arya’s brother.

But when Jon asked her out, Sansa wasn’t about to say no.

She will later tell Arya the same. Also that she and Jon had simply tripped into her bed.

But Arya doesn’t really mind, in the end. Especially when Sansa becomes her sister-in-law.

#jonsa halloween 2023 #jonsa #jonsa fanfiction #jonsa fic #jonsa halloween #jonsa modern au #jonsaff #my fic writing

[jackalfurbyposting]

Furbies I Would Love to Have One Day:

(Or: My favorite furbies I found while browsing ebay and the furby wiki)

(images mostly from the first search engine results & the furby wiki)

1: A jester furby!

I mean, come on... They are oh so adorable!! The checker pattern, the pompoms, the magenta feet...But unfortunately I don't think I'll ever be able to have one since they're so ridiculously expensive 😔 Whilst getting a picture for this post I saw one going for over $600

2: Slightly more attainable, the Valentine's day Furby!

I lovveeee Valentine's Day themed stuff (despite likely being arospec but cough cough we dont need to talk about that.)

I also just really love pink . Look at this cutie pie!! I love the brown eyes on it since it's like chocolate... The green looks really good too! Green + pink my favorite color scheme ever...

3: The Flamingo Furby!

Once again . pink. I chose this image because it looks like it's scheming.... Wonderful beast. Another one that's marvelous with every eye color . 10/10 creature I love these things !!

4: The autumn/witch Furby!

The little hat??? Is so cute ??? Just . Adorable I love it so much. I prefer winter and spring(we're getting to spring wink wink) as seasons, but autumn does have some pretty impeccable vibes . Especially on a furby.

5: Angel furby!

This probably should have been higher on the list next to the jester bc i was like. Vaguely organizing them from like. Most expensive/hard to get to easiest but i forgot 🙏

Anyways if you know me atall you know that I. Love. Angels. To a concerning degree. And the purple eyes ? Best design choice ever ?? Looks fantastic?? Really otherworldly while still being cute. Obsessed.

6: Spring time furby! (Baby or adult)

The light purple is just so nice... It reminds me of the lilacs that bloom in a bunch of different shades of purple at my grandparents' house during the spring, which makes it extra sweet looking to me! It's kind of confusing with the baby version that apparently wasn't special addition- but yaknow what it's cute so it's ok.

7: Lime Green Baby!

I cannot express to you how much I love this cutie... little keylime pie lookin ass. Adorable. Also green is my favorite color so-

8: Sunny Baby!!

Look at how delightful this creature is! This is the one I'm most likely getting soonish- I absolutely adore the sunny babies! They are just one of the cutest things on beautiful planet earth to me. I'm so dedicated to getting one of these sweethearts once I move I already have a list of name ideas... (Any suggestions would be welcome!)

Before I move on to the last two furbs, here are some honorable mentions:

Confetti, Clown, Primary, Mint Green, Red wolf, and wizard.

9: Strawberry Milk furby!

Honestly I'd be happy with any of the 2005 furbies (the adult ones, not the babies... those were the only actually scary furbies lmao). They're all pretty pricey, but I think someday I'll be able to find at least one- I'd be satisfied with that. Also i really like this one specifically bc it reminds me of vanilla ice cream with red velvet chunks in it.

10: Funky Purple Furby!

Last but definitely not least!

Again- I'd be happy with any of the '05 furbs, but something about the green and purple here is so charming to me . This will probably stay a dream though, since the funky ones are even more expensive than the regular ones.

And that's all of my dream furbies!! It was mostly just an excuse to talk about the ones I like, i doubt I'll ever get my hands on most of them- but I had a lot of fun making this!

Anyway if anyone ever wants to talk about furbies or show off theirs you are absolutely more than welcome to dm me I will be over the moon!!

🩷 have a lovely day/night !!

#Furbies... Peace and love on planet earth... #furby 1998 #furby #furby fandom #furblr #safe furby #furby 2005 #furby baby #Furbyposting

[blorbologist]

I absolutely adore your historical Quebec AU!!! My friend is also super excited to see what you do with it. Do you have a tag for it?

!! Oh, thank you so much! I think I had the tag filles du roi AU, but I only see the original idea pitch come up for it. Which is unfortunate, I know I've written a lil snippet for it. AHA, found it! Enjoy <3

I'm not sure when I'll get around to actually writing it - longfics are a scary undertaking for me because I want to see them to their end, and I know just at a glance that it'd be a massive undertaking:

I am a huge nerd. Though my focus is biology, I have a visceral reaction to people spreading falsehoods or inaccurate information. I don't want to do that to part of my own history, which would mean a lot of research. Which is kind of tough, when I'm already laden with research for gradschool and history isn't my forte. Seriously, I don't want to describe a kind of paint that wouldn't exist, or the wrong type of snowshoe, or a prayer to a saint that was actually not well-regarded. Because this is a very rural context, I couldn't easily handwave a lot of the details without detracting from the immersion. So I need to know how Vex would skin and sell beaver pelts, and the going-rates for materials for Percy's pepperbox or I'll go completely insane and tear my hair out in shame.

I think trans Vax would fit into this setting super well (get an extra dowry from the king by posing as another Fille du Roi with his sister, even if he's Absolutely Not), but. Though I'm queer, I'm not trans, and want to respect Vax and not just have him endure getting misgendered by the church and crown constantly.

I also do not want to whitewash the history of Nouvelle-France: the French stole this land from the Native American people that lived here and co-opted them into their conflicts. There is a long history of discrimination, and genocide, that I'd want to tackle carefully, both as a white author, and because Vex and Vax would be Métis, with a French father. It's delicate, in a way that other historical AUs usually sidestep. (I would like to help educate people that Canada's image as the squeaky-clean goody-two-shoes cousin of the USA is a complete fucking fabrication, though, so it'd be worth the headache and heartbreak.)

It would also require a very different sort of prose and dialogue than I'm used to. Trying to figure out a nice balance between keeping that Old feeling while also having it distinctly come off as French (more than that, French Canadian) would be a mess! A delightful challenge, though :D

I really do love this AU, and the idea of sharing this fascinating (if very, very complicated and messy and tragic) part of history with the fandom means so much to me! It's just very daunting for lil' ol' me - the fact even two people are excited really made my day, though <33

Have a bit of worldbuilding: the Briarwoods killing Percy's family still happened... only it was because they owned land that produced excellent deposits that colored glass a rich, incredible green. They call it residuum, and sell it as a luxury good and claim it has many arcane properties. Because it glows in the dark.

It's actually uranium glass and thus mildly (very mildly) radioactive :3 But it's fun to think of the Briarwoods and their cronies irradiating themselves with their hubris! While feeling a bit magical for the time and setting!

#critical role #perc'ahlia #filles du roi AU #I'm seriously so happy anyone remembered this au at all ;;;;;; of all my cool and flashy and dramatic stuff!! my lil slice of history! #tho the cons list is long I do have to note the pros are many too. vex with a french accent. trinket is an actual bear. etc.

[arino4u]

appreciating the unique quirks of the many PSP models

Someone posted a picture of a PSP ad from back in the day, and it inspired me to crack my brain open and dump a buncha knowledge of mine into this here post!

So, let's talk PSP's!

This here is my PSP, or at least the one that survived long enough to be considered that. It's the vibrant blue PSP 3000, which was the last revision of the PSP that stuck to the original design. Speaking of designs, lets jump right into breaking down the several major PSP redesigns!

(I took some pics from this video btw y2u.be/EkNXNmgPCoc)

First, you've got the PSP 1000, the eldest

This particular one in a very sleek white :0

Now the PSP 1000 is real good. Unlike a lot of launch edition consoles, they pretty much had it down from the get go. All the basic bits and bobs you expect in a PSP are in here, with the only special characteristics of the 1000 being its heft.

That's right, the PSP 1000 is chunky! I do not say this to make fun, however, because the extra weight makes the 1000 really comfortable to hold. Look, without being too crass, the PSP has a massive ass- I mean look at this size comparison!!

I AM ACTUALLY JEALOUS OF A VIDEO GAME DEVICES ASS- WHAT??

ahem- Point is, the PSP's extra heft gave it... I hesitate to use the term love handles but- WHY CAN'T I BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS WE'RE MOVING ON

to the PSP 2000!

In a delightful blue! Similar to mine, but not as pretty :P

The PSP 2000 is notable for a couple reasons. Mainly because it introduced the new skinnier form factor that they pretty much stuck with for the rest of the consoles run (until they radically changed the entire design, but I'm not going there today).

The slim design is alright. While I'm no proponent of unrealistic body goals, I can see why they shed some of the PSP's pounds. The dumpy made it a little less than ideal in the pocket, and the console was also much lighter to boot. I mean it too! The PSP dropped from 280 grams to 189. That's 91 grams lighter!

The real great thing about the PSP 2000 though is that it's around this time that Sony decided to whip out the crayons and start going wild with the colors.

There were simple, yet elegant colors, like Lavender and Mint Green

But more interestingly, we started to see more multicolored themed PSP's, like...

This sleek Gundam one

This beautiful Monster Hunter one

And, last but not least, The Simpsons one!!!

"that is so effin' badass"

Awww yeah! The wide array of color options was certainly not unique to the PSP as far as handheld consoles go, but I'm such a freakazoid for this design- I can't get over how cute all these different PSP's are.

Whenever I see all the different colored PSP's, I imagine an eclectic group of people riding the Yamanote line, with the one connective link between them being the fact that they're passing the time during their train ride by dinking around with a PSP. You might even be able to tell at a passing glance something about the persons character as you notice the color they chose, or maybe you're just looking too far into it. After all, what would somebody tell about you, rocking your Simpsons PSP. That you like the Simpsons? That you like the Simpsons enough to have committed to staring at a Simpsons themed device every day on the train? Is that something you feel you should base your entire identity around? in Tokyo, Japan circa 2006? ...The answer is sure, why not! The Simpsons rules!

And so does the PSP 3000!

In a silver that reminds me James Bonds car... Oddly specific, that one

Now, I'm putting a lot of faith in you right now to spot any kind of difference between this device, and the last device. To be fair, I was putting a lot of faith in you to spot any kind of difference between the last device and the first device- but I digress.

I think the majority of people would agree that the 3000 is the best PSP. It's basically the 2000, only with a WAY better screen. The contrast between light and dark is much better, the colors are more vibrant and vivid, the awful ghosting effect from previous models is all but gone- it's wonderful!

And no, I didn't mention the ghosting effect in talking about the previous models, and that's mostly because well- have you seen what the competitions screens were like at the time?

It's like I'm playing a video game in a Zach Snyder movie...

Yeah- the standards were low as heck, which makes the PSP 3000 that much more impressive! It really is a nice looking screen even still, and I speak on good authority because, well, this was the model PSP I owned and used for years!

As previously established, I owned the Vibrant Blue 3000, but there were tons of other fun colors too!

You had, as before, simple but elegant colors like Blossum Pink and White Blue

but also the SUPER fun themed ones, which started to get cool as heck with the 3000!

You've got the Hatsune Miku one, of course

ok this one is sorta underwhelming, tbh

This 'so classy it's criminal' Monster Hunter one

don't know who I was quoting- but the gold highlights- AAAAA

And there was even a One Piece themed PSP!

Which also happens to look quite similar to the MonHun one! Just with less class (sorry luffy)

At the end of the whole PSP lifecycle we wound up with so many unique colors and variants that just collecting the different colors of all the different PSP's could be entire decade long endeavors in it of themselves! I'd like to say that one day I could own them all but likeeeee-

I think student loans will probably prohibit me from ever being so frivolous, though it's fun to dream!

or is it depressing...

In any case, that wraps up my PSP worship appreciation post for now!

Keen PSP appreciators may have noticed my failure to mention the PSP GO or the PSP Street. I am aware of those 2 revisions, but I chose not to include them because:

1. I've never seen either of them in the flesh before, so I have no personal experience with them and thus couldn't confidently speak on their ergonomics or screen quality

2. They only had 2 colors each, which is lame and not fun!

and 3. It's 3 AM and I have to get up early tomorrow- I kinda wrote this all on a whim because I saw someone post a picture of a PSP and it put my brain in hyperdrive

ANYWAYS

I hope you enjoyed this slightly structured ramble! I will leave you with a fanmade commercial for the PSP I found on youtube dot com

hehe, 2005 was nuts-

goodnight :)

#playstation #psp #video games #essay #ramble #y2k #2000s nostalgia #jerry

[riley1cannon]

A get to know me :)

I was tagged by @superalphabatman; thank you kindly. :)

Rules: name 1 of your favorite movie, character, animal, drink, song, season, book, color, hobby

Movie: Of all time? No, I shall follow @superalphabatman's example, and pick something suited to the season, and that something would be... No, it must be declared a tie: The Haunting (1963) -- if the "Whose hand was I holding?" moment alone doesn't keep you awake, you are a stronger woman than I will ever be; and, a little less spooky, but heaps of fun, The Uninvited (1944).

Character: I will take the "of all time" route on this one, because that makes it way easier, and that would be ... Sherlock Holmes. I've been reading the stories since I was ten and they haven't grown stale yet.

Animal: I like to say I love cats and dogs equally, but honesty compels me to admit that cats have a bit of an edge in my heart. I've never actually had a dog of my own, though -- Prince was my dad's dog, Choo Cho was my brother's -- so perhaps the balance would shift a bit if I ever have one of my own. I do covet Mikey, a neighbor's Irish terrier.

Drink: Tea -- hot, cold, assorted varieties (except green; tried that once and had a terrible reaction -- jittery, heart racing, anxious; just awful, stuff's toxic).

Song: Johnny Cash's rendition of Wayfaring Stranger has been stuck in my head lately, so I will go with that. (And I was profoundly reminded of why, after my dad passed, I couldn't listen to Cash again for the longest time. There's some quality in his voice that is so like my dad's.)

Season: Autumn, of course, and long before it was a trendy aesthestic of the pumpkin spice crowd. It's the only 100% comfortable time of year. A little crisp and cool? Grab a sweater! Go for a walk and listen to the fallen leaves rustle. Watch a breeze whip them up and send them whirling along the path like little, leafy dust devils. Everything about it is perfect, right down to the first hint of winter on its way.

Book: Impossible to choose, so I will return to Sherlock and say The Hound of the Baskervilles. I could probably recite it from memory at this point but it still delights.

Color: There's a certain shade of green, dark-ish, that suits me quite nicely. Can't find it on the color charts, though.

Hobby: Reading, I suppose. I've never quite understood the concept. There are a lot of things I enjoy doing, but it's difficult to think of any of them as being a hobby. That always makes me think of people obsessed with just this one thing, like bird watching or golf, and that's not me.

Tagging: @neoretrobibliomartini-x, @misscrawfords,@thevintagetiger, and anyone else who wants to do this.

[henrikvanderhussy]

HAU drink nite

As vaguely threatened, I recreated drinks from the recipe book in the Screaming Banshee bar!

I only ended up making 5 of them because I wanted to make alcoholic versions and I’m too old for hangovers. I don’t own a blender, so those were automatically off the list.

Recipe interpretations:

The big red thing is a pomegranate

The group of three dark red things are cranberries

Mint simple syrup was used for the mint component

Alcohol amount in each drink was x1

Alcohol selection was whatever seemed like it would work with the ingredients

So here they are, ranked from “Hey that’s really good!” to “Absolutely heinous”

Under a ‘read more’ because there are pictures so the post is kinda long :)

Brown River

An unexpected delight! Bourbon whiskey for the alcohol component. It gave off a cranberry whiskey sour vibe and had a lot of depth. We added some crushed pineapple and pomegranate seeds for texture because my partner has no chill where food and drink are concerned and everything must be fancy.

Green Isle

A very close second (and my partner actually thinks this one should be first). I chose a light rum because the mint and lime had us thinking about mojitos. This one turned out the prettiest even though we don’t have actual martini glasses.

Bog Punch

This one isn’t bad, but it was the last drink of the night, and by that point I started to realize there was only a limited number of ingredients and everything was going to start to taste similar. It was just generically citrusy and a little sour. Made with white rum and probably would have been more interesting with a tequila, but I’m not a tequila fan.

Crow’s Nest

I’m sorry to have to report that Donal’s favorite isn’t very good. There’s just SO MUCH orange juice that it overwhelms everything else and makes the drink feel kind of thick and heavy. Alcohol was vodka and triple sec. We don’t have two beer mugs with handles so one of them went in the novelty boot glass, which was entertaining.

Peat Bog

Here it is. The worst. Awful and bad. We knew it was going to suck, but like. It was so bizarre that you just have to try it. Probably would have been best with an Irish cream liqueur, but the closest thing we had on hand was a coffee liqueur. Green food coloring was added to complete the experience. I didn’t need to spit it out or anything, but I also didn’t finish the whole glass.

(Mmmm, murky green liquid. Appetizing)

And that’s all! We bought way more fruit and juices than we needed, but had a lot of fun and will legitimately add the Brown River and the Green Isle to our drink recipe list!

#cluecrewplaythru #hau #the haunting of castle malloy #alcohol cw

[tugoslovenka]

Warding Bond - Chapter 8

Woes of Another

A/N:

I tried actually aligning the wording of Woe into the writing just because I love the item description which ended up being a lot of fun here. Reminder that Cazador is a ‘lil bitch. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

Also posting on AO3!

Althea awoke with a gasp, which turned into a chest-straining cough. She hurled the contents of her stomach from the day prior, before rising on her hands and knees, cold concrete grazing her palms. Sounds of scattering rodents and a distant, soft drip encouraged her to look up.

Bars. Dipped in gold. The exposed, steel parts were rusted, dampening the shine from magical lanterns which hung from the distant ceiling. Heaving still, she noticed the color of the walls. A deep green, bathed over by the cyan weave that illuminated the entire hall.

Another gasp, though this one resonated from the pit of her stomach.

She began scrambling away, still crouched, when she bumped into something soft. A sour stench of decay urged her to stand. She could only back away in panic at the horrific scene before her. Bodies. So many bodies. All charred, with split veins that still clung to the residual meat on their bones; mouths and eyes open, peering into nothingness—shriveled skin branded with the same infernal writing on her back.

“You’re awake!” Astarion’s delighted voice sounded. “I was beginning to think I’d need to kiss sleeping beauty back to consciousness.”

She pressed her back into the gilded gate and her hands gripped the bars, as though she could will herself through with enough force.

“Wh—What is this place?” she faltered, wrists squeezing through the railing, the tops of her head partially poking through as her body screamed at her to flee.

Cold hands grabbed hers, intertwining their fingers. She felt a gentle kiss on her head, nuzzling her hair with a deep intake of breath.

“Darling,” he greeted. “Have you forgotten your own prison?”

Althea’s eyes widened. She tried wrangling out of his grip, but to no avail. Quickly, she began murmuring a quivering incantation in an attempt to fight back. The frightened words—prayers, drew a deep laugh from the man holding her, the vibrations from his body translating through her.

“It won’t work, my sweet.” He disentangled their hold, instead electing to grab both her wrists with one hand, keeping her locked in place. She heard the dangling of a chain, then from the corner of her eye, she saw it—a three-pronged trident, piercing a golden ring—her focus.

Instinctively, she swung her head back, only managing to concuss herself against the firm metal cell.

Astarion tutted, squeezing the grip on her wrists until she felt them burn.

“Now, now,” he scolded. “Let’s not act like Githyanki. Use your words.” 

“Fuck you,” she spat, squirming—trying to writhe—out of his hold. “Let go of me!”

“Ugh, you do insist on making things exceedingly less fun…” he groaned, releasing her. Immediately, Althea toppled to the cold floor, palms scraping on the rough concrete as she scrambled away from the dead spawn. She couldn’t bear being near them—arranged in a pile like logs for a bonfire.

“Magic is an odd thing, isn’t it?” Astarion observed the mounds of corpses, pocketing her amulet with a curious expression. “You’d think thousands of dead bodies huddled together would accelerate their decomposition, yet they are perfectly preserved.”

Before Althea had time to respond, a wave of spellwork surged through her. A pulse of piercing pain overwhelmed her when her head hit the ground, the rest of her body following. A low, vibrating sound charged the air with energy, compelling her to look up. He was holding a staff—long, thin, topped with a gargoyle whose wings partially coiled around it.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The clinking provoked her to shriek. Anxiety bubbled inside her bones. The signal of an approaching storm—Cazador. She shrunk, curling until she was squeezing herself like a self-soothing child.

Master approaches. Master is angry.

“Ah, so you can obey.”

Astarion gripped the staff with one hand, while his other traced its shaft until it touched the monster’s wings, inspecting the tiny droplets of blood that swelled from the gargoyle's jaws. It was as though her heart was brought back to life and traveled into her brain, where she could hear it—feelit—pounding with such force, she thought it would explode.

“You beast,” she bellowed. “You fucking monst—”

A tug. A pull. Her body rose from the ground, lingering in the air, but only just. From a single twirl of the staff, red mists wrapped around her, pulling her towards him, until she collided with the side of the gate once more. He kneeled, grazing the side of her cheek until his fingers intertwined in her hair. He yanked her head upward with such force she thought her neck might have snapped.

“You are a consort, my dear. Behave like one.”

No.

“Yes master.” The words left her mouth, though she didn’t formulate them. 

No.

“I despise that term. Lord is preferable.”

“Yes master—”

“—My. Lord.”

“Yes master.”

The clutches of magic dissipated, and she felt the cold concrete again. Astarion’s cursing echoed between the tall walls—her, himself, Cazador—and he hurled the staff against the floor, dimming the lingering haze.

Althea raised herself on an elbow, grunting, silently thanking the seamstresses who sewed the dress with so much fabric that it cushioned her. Dragging and ripping parts of the skirt, she limped to the closest wall where she rested her back, catching her breath.

“You’re not—” A sharp sting in her cheek made her wince. “It doesn't belong to you,” she grimaced, touching the side of her face that ached from the beating of the day.

“Of course it does!” he barked, pacing back and forth like a cornered animal. The panic in his voice showed the inexperience with whatever it was he was attempting to achieve. “I am better. I know better.”

“Then why do you repeat his mistake—Agh!”

The ringing returned in all its violence.

Tap. Tap. Tap. She remembered having seen the winged gargoyle atop Cazador’s staff many times, whenever he walked past the prisons constructed for his sacrificial lambs. Althea was now overwhelmed with this quiet sense of something lost, finally showing itself through the memories she thought forgotten.

Master approaches. Master is angry.

“Why must you whinge?” He stopped his frantic pacing to look at her in exasperation. “Was it not enough punishment to be greeted with dirtied silk like some poverty-stricken half-wit?”

“What are you talking about?” She massaged her temples, doing her best to quiet her mind before it exploded purely from his incessant bleating. 

Lowering her hands, she slowly stood up. She hadn’t noticed it, but he was covered in blood. Stains on his lips, speckles on his clothes, in his curls. Althea blinked, trying to recall what occurred after their encounter at the tower—

A dreadful realization soaked in like the cold sweat off her back.

Hurriedly, her fingertips began searching, poking for what she feared happened. The bite marks from Cazador were still there, a grim reminder of her curse, of the fogged memories during the time she was imprisoned in these cells. Gliding just below the nape of her neck and along the side, she stopped.

Two punctures. The wound was raw with fresh swelling, and far too painful to inspect. Instead, her fingers curled into a fist.   

“... You drank from me.” She wobbled momentarily, unable to fully express the feeling of bewilderment. 

“Tried to,” he corrected. “All went according to plan. And then I started gagging. Puked out my insides right onto the most expensive varnish in all of Baldur’s Gate. Over my fine linen shirt!”

She stared in astonishment. What could she have possibly done in her past life—her current life— to anger the Gods to bring such torment?

“But then—” she paused. “Why am I alive?”

Astarion did not respond. He narrowed his gaze, hesitation evident in his expression. 

The situation had grown increasingly more complicated than the rather straightforward agreement with the archduke of Cania. Though he was honest in showing the past she—Varra—experienced, he revealed nothing from the time after she’d turned into a spawn. Neither did he shed light on her years in the House of Hope. 

No weapon, magical or not, was going to right whatever wrong Astarion had committed by interrupting the Rite of Profane Ascension. Rarely did the fates work with such clarity, but as she’d learned through her dealings with the Nine Hells, it never worked with devils—the Lords of the Nine especially.

Blood and dirt mixed within the fabrics of her olive dress. She attempted to pat away, as though it would do any good.

Althea of Cania was not going to die like this.

Heels digging into the floor, she centered herself between the gates—posture upright, hands at the front, head held high—like a perfectly polished doll come to life.

“Let me help.”

Astarion whipped his neck in her direction. A flash of white caught her attention—his fangs—as his lips stretched into a wide smile before laughter escaped. He pointed at her, continuing to howl like he’d gone mad.

As seconds dragged by but she remained steadfast in both posture and expression, he stopped. His arm fell limp by his side when realization caught up with him.

“You’re… You’re serious?” He looked dumbfounded when she nodded.

“Varra!”

Her peaceful rest, watching the bubbling rivers of Avernus, had once again been interrupted. This time, it was Raphael who came shouting, the other servants skittering away as he angrily strode towards the balcony. She quickly turned, head bowing when he appeared at the doorway.

“Yes, my lord?” she asked, gaze fixated at the marbled floor.

“When was I to learn of my father visiting the House of Hope?”

Her thoughts paused when she looked up. He was in his human disguise. Raphael never shed his devil form in the Hells—he was far too proud for that, especially here, in the presence of his servants—which was most of the time. However, there was something else that was different about him. Perhaps it was the lingering stench of undeath, which clung like a potent perfume to his every pore. Her nose scrunched and she cleared her throat before addressing her master.

“I… don’t know.” She was telling the truth. She wasn’t aware that she should have informed him of her meeting with Mephistopheles. Though, it did perplex her, the fact that she intuitively elected to hide it from him, even if not with nefarious intentions.

Pinching the space between his eyebrows, Raphael let out a frustrated sigh.

“Sometimes you really are the thorn in one’s—my—side,” he said, putting both hands on his hips and looking out across the sea of fire. “What an embarrassment, being hung and quartered in the company of pit fiends like some degenerate, for indulging in pleasures of the flesh. As if their fantasies are any purer.”

“Raphael?” she questioned, not knowing whether this was his way of dismissing her.

“Nevermind.” He waved it off, but not before taking another disappointed look at Varra. With a snap of his fingers, her back straightened fully—unnaturally—as he hummed. “You are forgetting your manners.”

“I apologize,” she spoke, routinely, with as much emotion as was expected.

He seemed to be considering something. The gleam in his eye was usually a bad thing or a very bad thing for Varra.

He approached, groping the curve of her waist, squeezing in the same spots as always, the spots she swore had turned into indents in her skin. “Why has everyone decided to torment me today, hm?”

The dress she wore was loose at the front, an open neck for easy access in case Raphael or Haarlep had any particular cravings for human that day. As if reading her thoughts, he parted the top, allowing her breasts to spill out into the warm air of Avernus.

Varra didn’t yell, or scream, or tear herself away.

She knew not to.

“You need a reminder, it seems,” he mused, thumb circling her nipple, admiring the piercing with a hum of approval. “Though, I am feeling rather… forgiving. I suppose I could be convinced not to punish you for disobedience, were you to repent.”

Without any further encouragement, Vara knelt down, hands finding his belt and unbuckling it with speed unmatched even by the most experienced pickpockets in Faerûn. Faerûn. Cloakwood. Varra D’allrnir of Cloakwood.

The pause drew out a groan from Raphael, who fisted her hair in response. She shook her head, returning to the bulge staring her in the face. The rhythm was practiced; Raphael ensured his little lamb was cognizant of his exact desires depending on his mood. Anger usually meant a quick endeavor, her favorite among the types of affections he craved.

Favorite. Like the Marsember Blush Varra D’allrnir of Cloakwood had drunk on special occasions.

Not wanting to enrage the master of the House of Hope further with idling, her lips pulled the hardening cock from its confines, and not a moment later she felt the tip hit the back of her throat, practically swallowing its entire length. Anger usually meant aggression as well. The devil gripped the back of her head, squishing her nose against his lower abdomen, preventing her from taking a breath.

“That’s more like it, Varra,” he moaned, lightly thrusting into her mouth, worsening the suffocation. Though she had no right to protest, she couldn’t help but be repulsed at it—she could only kneel, praying to the Hidden One to—

—The Hidden One. The Mother of all Magic. Her people’s Prophet.

“Speak,” he commanded.

And so she did. She tried to.

The muffled bubbling from her throat only egged on his grunts. Varra had learned to disconnect from the world around her during these sessions. She would wander into nothingness, untethering her mind from the very Plane it occupied, letting time pass until she felt the gush of hot seed seep down her throat, sometimes burning her esophagus. And if she—

Loud muttering broke her from the daze. He was mumbling, not in pleasure, but annoyance. Not on account of her, but someone whose name she didn’t recognize.

“Wretched orthon—” A growl. “Despicable, disgusting creature—” Another moan. Varra was close to losing consciousness, yet knew better than to pull away. Her muffled noises had turned into gagging, which did seem to catch the devil’s attention enough to peek downwards.

“Apologies,” he expressed, lovingly almost, petting her cheek with his free hand. He even loosened the grip on the other, allowing an intake of air while he panted with need. “I am rather… infuriated.”

Varra continued, looking up at him with tears welling in her eyes. To this, he only smiled. With a nod, he silently instructed her to stand. She did so while making sure to keep his cock occupied by grabbing it with both hands. The heat rising from Raphael engulfed her, eliciting a whimper when he pinched her nipples. Despite the years of torment, her skin was still not used to the Hells—and her master ensured her supple flesh continuously received a replacement for any fading burns. The stench of it didn’t bother her anymore, though it did prompt a rather violent thought when she saw the reddening turn into bleeding.

“There. All better.”

A hand snaked itself between her legs, easily pushing past the fabric that made bending her over to be rutted into but a simple maneuver. Varra immediately moaned—squealed—in delight, knowing it was what she was supposed to do. The burning continued, this time between her legs, as hot tears streaked down her cheeks. She was unsure if it was her body’s way of protesting him, but the outcome was one he had hoped for either way. Humiliating, devouring, belittling her was something he craved. He would call it submitting, but she knew they were both aware of her full compliance.

Her aching clit was being rubbed in slow circles, but the fever that followed was anything but soothing. Raphael was watching carefully, as though drinking in her desperation. Once he pushed past her entrance, she bounced forward. Once another finger followed, she settled. A third had stretched her to fullness, but she pressed her lips together to cease the screams that threatened to sour his fun. All she could do is stare at him obediently, waiting for his next command.

Thankfully, she did not have to wait too long. His expression furrowed and his hand quickly retracted, taking a hold of her throat instead.

“You will obey me, won’t you, little lamb?”

Varra nodded vigorously, attempting to breathe from her nose when she felt her throat close at his grip. With a grin, he simply lowered her to her knees again, his cock caressing her face.

“Why did you—“

“Master!”

Haarlep sounded somewhere in the distance, merrily skipping towards them wearing nothing but a grin on his face. Just in front of the doorway, he dropped to his knees, crawling towards the devil, tongue lapping like a dog.

Making use of this interlude, Varra closed her eyes to regain composure, knowing this was going to be a long night.

“Has Yurgir been pestering you again, master?” The succubus teased, lowering until he could comfortably fit between Raphael’s legs.

“It’s those Baldurians. Hopeful heroes,” the devil responded, throwing a quick glance at the woman patiently staring at him before promptly shoving his cock in her mouth again. Varra used her tongue to trace the underside of his member this time, knowing it made him particularly happy.

“The tadpoled freaks?”

“The very same, Haarlep.” He clenched his jaw, drain dripping in his voice, as he looked down at the fiend who had already began sucking his sack.

After taking ample time to suckle on the wrinkled skin with a whine, he let go of his ballsack with a pop. “Let me fix that for you, master,” he cooed, cupping them with his hands instead. “They are nothing compared to you.��

“Who do they think they are, refusing me so ardently?” he shouted, committing another assault on Varra’s throat, with more force this time.

“Of no importance, master.”

“And that pathetic spawn of Cazador’s, moping his way to an answer like he was owed one!” he scoffed. “I will cherish the day he perishes in the rite, when my little lamb—Argh, fuck!”

Scorching heat filled Varra’s mouth, the extreme temperature forcing another gag out of the human who had been fighting to breathe. His thick cum burst like mead from a broken bottle, expelling the fires of the Hells into her body. Haarlep whined in disappointment when he didn’t receive the coveted prize.

The wanting gawk from the incubus confirmed this was far from over.

#astarion fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion x original female character #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #wb #my fics

[legendaryprofessorwisteria]

Hey Prof! Aster here with your weekly 'Raidons and Other DragonsTM' report, this week's report is gonna be long

(Also, to the anon who's gran has the zygarde and is a menace to poachers— I wholeheartedly invite you both to Galar if you and your gran don't already live here. She will have a field day, I promise.)

Anyways

Good news! I got my dangerous legendary liscence, which means the Raidons can stay with me legally for as long as they'd like! It also gave me access to a pokemon I had caught many years ago, but could only have brief interactions with. More on them later.

The Dratini pod has gotten the affectionate nickname of the "Spaghetti Squad", and they each are named after noodles. Three are shiny, and they're the most scared of the bunch— but they've really taken to Koraidon. Koraidon in turn sees them as their babies, it's really cute. I.. might also be seen as one of their babies, as I am currently having my hair licked. Not that I mind, it's pretty normal dragon type behavior.

I got to see the battle form of Koraidon a few days ago, as I was overseeing some sparring between my team members. It's very impressive! The big guy still lost to my Dragapult though, but they're both on good terms. I haven't seen much of Miraidon yet, it's a very shy pokémon. I won't rush them, they'll battle when they're ready.

Now, onto that other pokémon.

When I was little, I got lost in the woods, and found an injured pokémon. I helped it, and went on my way. I didn't know what it was, not until years later until the day of when I got my first pokémon.

I used to go to a trainer school— used to as they actually expelled me over this. It was dumb, but oh well. We were sent into a forested area within school grounds to catch mostly-docile pokémon. I.. wasn't the most liked kid there, as I was a shy kid compared to other people. I was struggling, when one of the more popular kids in my grade came up to me— having already caught a larvitar. I thought I couldn't battle, until it showed up.

The roar shook the trees, and I think I scared everyone half to death. Then the big guy just.. went into my pokeball. Which promptly got confiscated.

That pokémon was an Eternatus. My first pokémon was a bloody Eternatus (A bloody huge one at that). Of course I didn't know the caliber of this until the league arrived. I got a dreepy afterwards, but I could occasionally visit my large friend. Hence why I now live in hammerlocke.

So... I now have them back. EVO is their name, and honestly it's a bit relieving? I also noticed that after I got them back, my eyes changed color to a sunset-y pink from green. Weird, right?

Anyways, here's your dragon storytime. Hope you liked it :)

- Aster

P.S.— Did you know that technically, Eternabeam— Eternatus' signature move— is stronger than Roar of Time? I was told this after getting EVO's pokeball back. Dunno why though... O_O

Hello Aster, it's wonderful to hear from you! Seems like a really fun week you're having.

It's delightful that you got a Dangerous License! The 'Raidons will likely be classed as Dangerous despite their chill temperaments. They're quite fun Pokemon, but rather strong and fully capable of destruction. Also, those licenses are really useful - even aside from personal connections! It's always nice to be classified as capable with Pokemon like that.

And those Dratini sound adorable! Might I ask how many of them there are? Dratini are so cute. The shinies were probably the most notable targets of the poachers, which is probably why they're so scared...poor little things. It's so cute that Koraidon is caring for them! The care of a bigger, stronger Dragon-type will probably help them a lot.

Koraidon, as I understand it, is quite strong! Yours will probably become quite the handful once it becomes more confident and competent in battle. But it will take both of them a while, most likely, and you almost definitely know that better than I do.

And that is...quite the story! EVO seems like quite the interesting Pokemon! And it sounds like you attended a bit of a stupid Trainer's School. I would think most schools are smart enough not to expel a student over an accidental catch, but unfortunately Eternatus have quite the negative stereotypes associated with them, through little or no fault of their own.

That said, it's not every day that one hears the story of someone catching a Legendary as their first Pokemon, particularly one as powerful as Eternatus! What a catch! And for it to stay in that ball, it probably wanted - or at least, didn't not want - to be caught by you. It sounds absolutely wonderful that you got them back, and it seems like they'll be a wonderful Pokemon to you if they remembered you this long. And as to your eyes...some Legendaries, particularly Originals or merely powerful individuals, have strange effects on people, especially those who are particularly suceptible. It wouldn't be too much of a surprise if the change was because of that.

As to your PS...yeah, Eternatus are scary strong. In their Eternamax form - which, lucky for all of us, has only been seen once - they have the highest stats of any Pokemon, including Shards of Arceus! As much as EVO will probably do well with you, be cautious of that power. Eternatus are nothing to mess around with!

#eternatus #koraidon #miraidon #pokemon #in character #wisteria answers #legendary pokemon #paradox event #paradox pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet spoilers #pokemon scarlet and violet

[emiline-northeto]

The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) was a very fun movie! Some thoughts, loosely organized:

Costumes

I loved Marian’s costumes, except that lavender and green one. But she has a lot of really beautiful outfits! I especially liked the sparkly white one with the purple in the sleeves and the skirt.

I do not think that those outfits Richard and company were wearing conveyed quite what they were hoping - they appeared to be (from the way they were speaking and acting) trying to go for “ordinary traveller” and those cloaks looked waaay too nice for “ordinary traveller”.

Relatedly, it was really interesting how so many of the articles of clothing in the film had a really bright, shiny, colorful fabric (silk? satin?) on the inside. 

The bishop not only had a vibrantly purple outfit, he had little purple boots to go with them, which was fun. I’ve no idea if that is remotely historically accurate to any period or not, but it certainly made for a dramatic presentation in the film.

I did wonder why Bess wore a completely different hat near the end of the film than we’d seen her or Marian wearing previously, but I don’t know what it’s called so I’m not sure how to look it up

 People

Claude Rains is always a delight to watch, and he was having so much being Prince John. Ona O’Connor was great too, and the little romance between Much and Bess was surprisingly charming. I liked Bess’ sense of humor. (Also, she’s had the banns read five times? Good heavens! Obviously many men have found her delightful as well.) Anyway, I’m clearly going to have watch more movies that have O’Conner in them.

I cannot believe it, but I actually didn’t recognize Basil Rathbone at first, and because he doesn’t say very much at first I got confused and thought he was using an American accent. It became clear later that he wasn’t, of course. 

Misc

The score is great! Interestingly, the DVD copy I have has an option to watch the movie with only the score.

That fight scene between Robin and Sir Guy of Gisborne has me wishing that I had an opportunity to learn fencing.

I liked that they actually had wax dripping from the candles in the fight scene, and when they knocked over the candles there was wax all over the floor.

Robin and Much both clearly have serious muscles since Robin carried that deer and Much lifted an enormous wooden table and dropped it on the fighters. Not to mention that the archery requires a considerable amount of strength.

I did wonder, when they had that huge feast in the forest after capturing Marian and Sir Guy and their group, who had cooked all that food.

The fat jokes were a bit jarring, though very unsurprising.

It was interesting watching this movie having recently watched the 1997 Ivanhoe, which is also set in the same time period. Somehow I hadn’t quite made that connection before I watched this one.

#the adventures of robin hood 1938 #robin hood summer

[ajgrey9647]

Quad Life + 💧 What is the earliest memory Drakkon can recall? Does he know what his first words were or remember where he took his first steps? Does he have any mementos of childhood he's kept such as a stuffed toy or tiny baby clothes?

Up Close and Personal - Drakkon's Kitchen

A few follow up reader questions for Drakkon...

AJ: Welcome back, everyone! Good to be here! I’m delighted that I’ve had several additional questions for the Quad Life crew following our chat yesterday. Fun, fun! Instead of herding them back onstage, I’ve been invited to join them at home for a proper one-on-one sit-down as an official guest instead of a creepy, unseen stalker. This format is still new, but dare I say, fun… So, follow along and let’s see what the boys are up today and ask those burning questions!

(AJ taps on the front door of the lake house and is promptly greeted by Prime Tommy. He smiles, gives a friendly squeeze, and moves aside, inviting the scribe to enter their private habitat. Jason is lounging on the couch and gives a wave, grinning.)

AJ: Hey, guys! Thanks for the invitation to come give you a proper visit. This feels a little weird, but in a good way! It will be nice to relax and hang out instead of scrutinizing your every move.

Jason: (chuckles) No problem! It’s good to have a face to put with that strange, invisible presence following us around.

Tommy: We appreciate you being so respectful of us ‘fictional’ characters and letting us be ourselves without a lot of interference or taking over. I think we all like having you as our author and getting to work with you in telling our stories.

AJ: (blushes) Aww… thanks. You guys are a hoot to work with too. It’s nice that you are taking extra time out of your day to answer a few more reader questions. I know we’ve had a busy schedule lately with capturing other prompt/asks and working through a few other storylines. It looks like there’s a few questions for Drakkon, a few for Red, and then a couple for you as a group. Sound alright?

(Both nod easily and Jason points over to the kitchen.)

Jason: Drakkon’s in there, preparing on of his five-star restaurant style meals if you want to start with him. And we want to thank you from the bottom of our hearts for gifting him such an amazing talent even though he’s a huge dick…

(Tommy merely rolls his eyes as a voice calls out from the kitchen.)

Drakkon: And I pair so well with your smart mouth, duckling. Now, send the little girl in here so we can get started. I believe she and I are working on a prompt later, correct?

AJ: (sighs) That’s the plan… Same one as last night. I was too tired and couldn’t ‘hear’ you very well at the time.

(AJ strolls into kitchen with her notebook and pen. Tommy settles next to Jason on the couch, just in case the asshole decides to get ‘fresh’.)

(In the kitchen, Drakkon is flitting from counter to counter to appliance and back again, humming lightly to himself. A full, brightly colored Pioneer Woman apron is tied around his large upper body. His expression is relaxed and calm and he almost appears happy, despite his usual cranky attitude. An assortment of pots, pans, and dishes are in various stages of preparedness and the room is filled with a mouth-watering aroma.)

AJ: (settles into a chair at the kitchen table, far out of the way as she, like Jason, is NOT gifted in the kitchen) Well, you look like you’re in a cheery mood today… What are you working on over there?

Drakkon: (continues adding a pinch of this and a dash of that to a dark green mixing bowl) I wouldn’t say ‘cheery’ but I’m not feeling chronically pissed off as I often do. As for what I’m preparing, I’m planning to make a soy-glazed roast lamb with I serve in lettuce leaves along with snow peas, carrots, rice, and spring onion.

AJ: (blinks a few times, jealous) Wow, that sounds… fancy.

Drakkon: As you well know, my darling cannot tolerate anything too rich or indulgent. He’ll try as a means to humor me, but it all comes right back up, the poor thing. Red is used to a different way of eating and I’m trying to balance both palates in our little family.

AJ: Of course. I do have a few reader questions if you feel up to answering. One touches on a tender subject, so I don’t want to get you riled up.

(Drakkon rinses his hands in soapy water under the faucet, silent a moment. He has a feeling he knows what the question might pertain to. Slowly, he dries his wet hands and sighs.)

AJ: You don’t have to answer of course. You of all people know I can’t make you do anything.

Drakkon: (sighs again as he sets a pan on the stovetop) Let’s hear it. I’ll decide then.

AJ: Fair enough. Alright, Drakkon… What is the earliest memory you can recall? Do you know your first words or where you took your first steps? Do you have any mementoes of childhood that you’ve kept such as stuffed toys or tiny baby clothes?

(AJ braces for a negative reaction. Instead of exploding, Drakkon laughs.)

Drakkon: I remember sliding out of my mother’s blown out snatch…

Tommy: (yells from the living room) Watch it, asshole!

AJ: (unbothered) Bullshit, my guy. Interesting that you’re deflecting again with wild, crass comments… We don’t have to open this can of worms, as I mentioned earlier.

(Drakkon huffs, but he averts his face. Not before his cheeks turn a deep scarlet.)

Drakkon: Sorry. Firing off a rude, uncouth response to those type of questions is a knee-jerk reaction. You’re right. My past… my childhood is a rather sensitive subject. But I know that I need to address those old wounds, the scars I carry that I had always dismissed as insignificant and infantile. Clearly from how I turned out, those things had a lasting impact.

(After a moment, he too pulls up a chair at the table across from AJ.)

AJ: You know I won’t judge you. I already know and have written some of it, with your permission and assistance, of course.

Drakkon: (steeples his hands in front of his face) My earliest memory is from when I was a toddler. A lot of the particulars are hazy, but I must have been with one of my foster families. It was nighttime and everyone was getting ready for bed. I had a childish fear of the dark and being alone, especially in this strange place with people I didn’t know.

(He pauses, chewing on his inner cheek, seeing the memory replaying before his eyes.)

Drakkon: I gravitated toward the woman naturally as a lot of children just know to do. I remember I was wearing striped footed pajamas. As a ward of the state, I didn’t have anything of my own, certainly no lovey or blanket. So, I was starved for comfort.

(His hazel eyes redden.)

Drakkon: I was crying, and I ran to that woman, tried to crawl into her lap for a hug, a snuggle. I called her ‘ma-ma.’ And that fucking cunt shoved me off onto the floor, leaned over, and smacked me across the face. ‘I’m not your ma-ma!’ she snapped. ‘You don’t have a mommy! She didn’t want you! Get out of my face!’

(AJ seethes inside, watching this bitch, wishing there was a way to have a word with her or otherwise edit out this scene. Obviously, it can’t be done.)

Drakkon: I’m going to guess my first word might have been ‘ma-ma’. Maybe I was looking for her? I don’t know. All I was ever told was that she gave me away, didn’t want me, didn’t even hold me after I was born. Much of my early childhood is a blur from bouncing place to place with new faces coming one after the other that I never learned most of their names. When I was punted out to the next home, I always had to leave whatever items I was given behind because they weren’t really ‘mine.’ So no baby clothes, no baby pictures or keepsakes. Besides one thing… and I lost it when the Coinless Universe imploded.

(He smiles slightly and pushes off from the table to check the oven’s temperature.)

Drakkon: One of the foster families gave me a small plush dog. He was black and brown and the perfect amount of floppiness. Not too big, not too small. Just the right size for chubby child hands. I was allowed to take it with me, nothing else. I had him for years… even when I was adopted by the Olivers, when we moved to Angel Grove, when I became the Green Ranger, and when I assumed my new title and reign.

(He sets to preparing the glaze for the frying pan and drags a sharp knife through the surface of the lamb, readying it for when the mixture is ready.)

Drakkon: It seems obvious looking back that it was the inspiration behind Red’s inception. I wanted a faithful canine companion, so I made one. When my darling and I were chased from the palace that night, he managed to grab it from beneath my pillow in all the chaos. He gave it to me later when we settled in the forest.

(He grows quiet again and braces his weight on his arms, hands gripping the countertop.)

Drakkon: I’d never before felt the emotion I experienced when Red put my lovey in my hand and kissed my forehead. No one had ever done anything that touched me that way. I didn’t believe myself capable of feeling something like that. I wasn’t sure how and I definitely wasn’t comfortable with them.

AJ: (sniffs) I didn’t know that part just yet. Wow…

Drakkon: Yes…wow.. Perhaps he and I were already starting to experience change before that wretched arch came to be. Who knows? Well, you might…

AJ: Not right now I don’t. We’re still working on those scenes, remember?

Drakkon: (wipes his eyes) You said you had more questions. I hope the rest aren’t this strenuous.

AJ: Yeah, I’ve got another one that’s just for you. I appreciate you answering honestly and being vulnerable with us. This question is nothing like that one. Regarding plastic surgery… How do you feel about them? Is this something you have done or would do? Do you mind if other people do?

(This makes Drakkon burst out laughing.)

Drakkon: That is random… (starts stirring his glaze in the frying pan) Hmm… well, sometimes one might need an appendage stitched back on or otherwise get sewn up after battle. I’ve never required such care, of course, but I’m me. I suppose in order to stay alive, one would do what is necessary though if you fucked up that bad, you’re screwed as a warrior most of the time unless it’s something of epic proportions and you do your enemy one worse. If you just sucked, it might be better to roll over and die because no one will fear or respect you.

(He plops the lamb on a rack in a roasting pan, brushing some of the glaze on its surface.)

Drakkon: If we’re just talking cosmetic shit, like bigger tits or ass or lips or recapturing your youth… That’s a no-go for me.

AJ: (surprised) Totally did not expect that response, dude…

Drakkon: (sniffs haughtily) Proper hair care is not the same. When I began my rule, I was a teenager, remember? Out of uniform, I might have looked as deadly as a Cabbage Patch Kid. No one took me seriously until I got violent. I really had to get my hands bloody to make my point, especially with warlords who had never crossed paths with me before. As I got older, all it took was one look and we were crystal clear with one another.

(Drakkon returns to the table with a small spoon of the glaze and offers it to AJ for tasting. Knowing he can’t do jack shit, she accepts and of course its awesome… Fucking dick, it’s unfair…)

Drakkon: Also consider, my dear, that when you undergo such procedures you are unconscious, medically restrained, and at someone else’s mercy. That’s stupid when you’re someone in my unique position. Not going to happen…

AJ: True… but what about for someone who isn’t on everyone’s shit list?

Drakkon: To each their own, however, if some dumbass crosses me and mine, I’m not above digging into any insecurities or flaws I can find, and I WILL use that information against them if I know they had something done. I’m an asshole, remember? I hit below the belt literally and figuratively.

(AJ flips her notebook shut with a weary groan.)

AJ: I’m well aware. The other questions are for Red and then you guys as a group. I’ll touch base later about our scene in progress….

(Drakkon grins like a smug cat.)

Drakkon: Of course, I look forward to it, illustrious fanfic author. If Red’s up next, you’ll find him outside digging in the dirt with his flowers. Ta ta!

#lord drakkon #boom! comics power rangers #power rangers #ao3 author #world of the coinless jason #jason scott #ao3 fanfic #coinless jason #tommy oliver #lord drakkon/world of the coinless jason scott/tommy oliver/jason scott #quad relationship #character interviews #mighty morphin power rangers #white ranger #red omega ranger #fun and games

[icibiscade]

The purpose of EoD

There are enough grindable elements that a player could, with sanity losing efficiency, become #1 rapidly. (Red = banned, green = inactive)

At least, #1 in elements found (star_kit, now ashley.bates, had 270104). (There are other leaderboards too. The second one is "elements made". If I map "elements found placements" to "elements made placements", I get (15, 253, 1, 54, 21, 5, 16, 4, 2, 50). In general, the latter leaderboards are much easier, so while they may be more satisfying to improve in, they generally have less import? value?, for example only 6 people have a nonzero "queries colored" value.) Remember the good old days, at the beginning of alchemical creation, where combos would be creative and somewhat interesting? Where fascination and curiosity happened... where when a combination is made, you don't know what you're getting. Where water bubble plus lava bubble made bubble column, then *2 got you _Pringles Cheddar Cheese_, and you were the 2nd person to find that element. Indeed, in the non-early game, almost everyone either grinds nearly 100% guessable combos or uses "hint" a lot. And the hint command gives _every combination_ (hiding the last element of each, but you still know the number of characters and where spaces are). Novelty. How can more of that be added to EoD? At first I thought about adding any old random elements related to anything I've randomly been thinking about. But just like a casino, high randomness is boring. There needs to be some kind of structure and legitimate sense of overall progress and revelation. And yet amidst 669,818 elements, how can one possibly hope to make enough content to even make a dent in the efficiency of grinding and other techniques? It will always be easier to add a grindable element than a creative, thought-out one. Grinding is fun to some people, anyways. There are currently no tools to reverse the tide. However, let's interrupt explanation for a moment and mention two spectular works of art: two pieces of online fiction named Homestuck and To the Stars (the latter is a PMMM fanfic). The former is finished and has 8,123 pages, the latter is not even close to done and has 883k words and 68 chapters. Over a long timescale, these works have accumulated an empire. Noting that I am procrastinating with unadvisably long moratoriums, I kinda feel inspired to make something similarly lengthy. To the point where I am using longer words than necessary. A further point against this having any actual effect is that, chains are similarly delightful in their commentary, yet even easier to grind. It would be difficult to incorporate elements of a combination into an actual story. The act of combining elements merely acts as the facilitator for finding out elements, like clicking "next" on a screen. Sounds like kindaof an effort to turn clicking "next" into an adventure. I do want to increase creativity and interest though. EoD is "dying" but is really quite alive. Maybe I should do something with my eleverse, create a story somehow, connect all the starter elements together, and figure out what EoD Anime would actually be like.

#eod

[nancypullen]

Fifty Shades of White

It’s official, I’ve submitted my color to the cabinet painter and there’s no take backs.  On Saturday the mister and I drove into Easton to the Benjamin Moore paint store to study all of the shades of off-white.  As I lined up paint chip cards and looked at them under different lighting, walked them over to the windows, then back to the shadiest corner, Mickey asked, “Can you narrow it down to four?” After another dozen chip cards and some agonizing comparisons, I did. We headed home with sample pots of Cream Linen, Feather Down, Winter Wheat, and Navajo White, stopping at Walmart to pick up some project board in the school supplies section.  I cut up that board and painted sections with each color, labeling them on the back. Then the fun started. I moved them all over the kitchen, trying all four colors in different lighting. Cream Linen was the first to be eliminated.

Different times of day, against the wall color and the floor color (I ignored those ugly countertops because they’re being replaced_ I’d shuffle them and see if I picked the same color each time.  My final choice is the middle color in that last photo - Winter Wheat.  It does have a hint of peach in the undertone, but with the green(ish) walls it works.  It’s the creamiest and that’s what I wanted.

The work starts on February 5th and I. Can’t. Wait.  I have a dream that on the first anniversary of our arrival (May 6th) all of the major stuff will be done. After the cabinets are painted that just leaves granite and hardware.  The ugly carpet on the stars will just have to wait.  If that happens, meet me back here in May for a video tour.  I wish I’d done a “before” video. I can probably find the real estate listing photos.   Anywayyyy, that’s the color and soon the kitchen will be well on its way to being PRETTY.  I received a message that said the cabinets were find and I shouldn’t spend the money to paint them.  I’d like to invite that person to come have a look.  They’re not in great shape and I don’t like the color.

NOPE, these girls need some help.  Just putting a little makeup on them. Speaking of makeup, Sephora sends me fabulous samples all the time. I love it. I have drawers full of samples.  Today I had some morning errands to run so I put my face on and popped a baseball cap on bed hair. I’d pulled a sample lip gloss out of a drawer because I was in the mood to try something new.  I ended up running around town looking like Id just finished a two piece and a biscuit from KFC.  I mean, I like a little gloss, but this is crazy. It’s a Fenty product, I don’t remember the shade, but I think it’s meant for someone younger than me.  I go out looking a little wonky all the time though, so what?  I’m going to try to make it a trend.  We’ll call it Grancy Chic.  Comfy shoes, bad hair, questionable makeup, a bra that has given up - what’s not to love?

Ye gads. Yep, those lips were a mistake, but at least I’m certain of my cabinet color - and that’s a lot more permanent, right? I’ve got laundry chugging, after I toss that load in the dryer and start a load of jeans in the washer I’m going to sit down at my desk.  There are new ideas for jewelry banging around in my head and I also have some cards to make.  I’ve got a dear friend who will need a cheerful get well card and Valentine’s Day is coming. Fun!  Time to turn on a murder podcast and get creative. Sounds like a perfect Tuesday afternoon. I hope that your Tuesday is delightful.  Do at least one nice thing for yourself today, whether it’s a walk in the sunshine or snuggling under a blanket if your weather is gloomy.  If all else fails, buy a new nail polish - that always works. If you’re feeling the winter blahs, check the calendar.  It’s just 55 days until spring!  I’m a winter lover, still crossing my fingers for snow, but I understand those who are longing for the next season. It’s just around the corner.

I’m off to play with clay. See ya’ tomorrow. Stay safe, stay well, stay hopeful.

Nancy

[fillinforlater]

Spaceship: Horizon - Part 6: The Smart Duck

Male Reader x Choi Yena

Length: 3664 words

Tags: facefuck, bend over, wild sex, seductive, naughty!Yena 

Inspiration: Horny Discord and Yena of course

Credit: @midnightdancingsol and @worldsover for editing and proof-reading. Kings!

“Oh, hi there! Nice to meet you. I hope you had a good rest.”

You open your eyes too quickly. Bright light reflected by clean white hurts your retina, feeling like a laser burning its way to your brain. Fighting the pain, you try to remember what happened before your eyelids fell down, where you actually are right now, and why a cute-sounding female voice is calling out to you.

Worker was fuming with hatred the last time you spoke with him. Maybe because the Oracle showed more interest in you than in him, maybe because he grew tired of your complaints. but you cannot be certain. Either way, he once again covered your ears, this time with a helmet. While dragging you along with him, he angrily gave you instructions: “A female will pick you up. She has all further tasks for you. I won’t allow disobedience or mistakes from you. Either your work is excellent, or you will feel my wrath.”

“It seems that you are still tired. My name is Yena, by the way.”

The voice shakes you out of your thoughts. You start a second attempt at opening your tired eyelids. With a hand in front of them, it is easier, although it earns you a confused sound from the girl you assume is seated next to you. 

When you finally remove your fingers one by one, you still feel stuck in a dream. A hypermodern train station with all-white, sleek, window-less trains—each of them sitting on a single rail—stretches out before you. At least twenty different platforms in polished beige and white panels are packed with people prancing in precipitance. They shove each other into the train mere seconds after its arrival. The sight leaves you stunned and somewhat delighted—just seeing people, doing human things in a human way, makes you sigh in relief. You don’t feel so alone anymore.

“Hello? Oh, I think I understand now. Is this maybe the first time you’ve seen station 3-Y-E on floor T1419?”

“I have missed seeing something like this,” you mumble, still enticed by humans being humans. You shake yourself and turn your head towards the seat next to you. A big smirk greets you, and it is unlike any other smirk you have seen, because of the unique shape of her lips. Although it sounds stupid, calling her a duck would be accurate.

“I’m sorry, that was impolite of me, Yena. Do I have the correct name?”

Yena nods, quick and reassuringly, which makes you sigh in relief. Before you can explain your reaction or what you think is going on, she interjects:

“Don’t sweat it. No need to be polite with me. I’ll be your guide for today, and I’m sure we will have a lot of fun, so let’s stay loose and calm.”

Yena wiggles from side to side like a snake and smiles brightly. You find her really captivating, a welcome change from the stern, cold-hearted Worker. Instinctively, you follow her example as she stands up and stretches. The sudden glow of a screen in her pocket makes you inspect her outfit more: she is wearing the same overalls as you, style-wise at least. The color is vastly different though—instead of black with orange stripes, she wears green with white stripes.

“I have special tickets so we can travel faster from location to location. I will tell you everything you need to know about the new jobs you will be doing. Feel free to ask any questions you might have. I will try my best to answer all of them. Here!”

Your fingers part as Yena pushes something into them and giggles at your dumbfounded expression. It’s something wrapped in brown plastic—a candy bar.

“Is this real? Like, from Earth, and not synthetic?”

“Definitely! I stole it from some Alien, who has like a collection of that shit. Eat it, before someone notices.”

Hurriedly, you tear the wrapping up and bite into the thick chocolate. Oh, it tastes like home sweet home—quite literally. The sweetness of sugar, unhealthy yet it fills you with life. Yena laughs at you when you inhale it too fast and choke on it.

“Hey! I thought that was my job.”

With teary eyes and swollen cheeks from all the chocolate in your mouth, you muffle a noise of misunderstanding, while you try to swallow properly.

“You know… the choking?”

Dumbfounded by Yena’s joke, you start to realize how this day could end. It’s in your hand after all, and such an idea should not be wasted. The cute, tiny duckling girl seems rather naughty. You give her a knowing wink, while cleaning up your lips. Her lips form a smirk. To any outsider, the view must have been bizarre, but you couldn't care less.

“Our train has already arrived. C’mon! Let me show you your new jobs!”

You follow the direction Yena is pointing towards and indeed: A small train, with red lines and vast windows waits patiently at your platform. The doors to it open after Yena holds a Helper screen onto it, and before you can ask further questions, you both sit in the comfortable futuristic vehicle.

“You don’t need the seatbelt, we will go nice and slowly,” Yena emphasizes, using her uniquely-formed lips. Again, all you can think of is duck. Maybe the aliens tried to interbreed a—no, you force these thoughts to the bottom of Hell. This adorable girl does not deserve such disturbing treatment. 

Only degeneracy.

“Okay, Miss Tour Guide, I’m ready!”

The train goes in motion and so does the flow of words out of Yena’s mouth, who is seated opposite of you:

“You will work in Kitchen 48, Forest 11 and in Engine Room 101, with new supervisors, new colleagues and—most importantly—new girls for your other profession. You should use your work-time to get to know them, imagine new scenes and develop a further understanding of how Spaceship: Horizon operates. Please don’t refrain from asking questions; I’m here for a reason.”

The girl doesn’t even blush or stutter when talking about your porn career. She acts like a professional, someone who could moderate a quiz show or tutor students. Her charm and wit are exceptional. With a playful salute you blurt out:

“Understood!”

“Great! Please, look to your left. Underneath the track this train is sitting on, you can see the aforementioned Kitchen 48. Everyday, 2541 humans work here, either as chefs, sauciers or dishwashers. The last of those is more punishment than actual work, because actual, industrial dishwashers exist here as well. In fact, most of the devices the humans work with here are far beyond the standard we have on Earth, except for this one…”

Yena points at one of the corners in this gigantic room. A pile of wood forming a pyramid burns in glowing orange like an erupting volcano. Pieces of meat, fish, and vegetables hang above it by metal threads. A chaotic curing process for such a modernized kitchen, humans rush with severe haste to keep the structure upright or move the meat around. Panic is constantly present. “Why are they doing it like this? Won’t all of the smoke suffocate them after a while?” you ask, more curious than concerned.

“The reason for this way of curing the meat is the alien supervisor. He believes that this way is the only way the meat can get the perfect, smokey flavor. And don’t be too anxious about our fellow humans: The room is fifteen meters high—even the train above them won’t interrupt them—and the ventilation system is top notch. No need to panic.”

Yena smiles. You smile. Then, the scenery switches after a short time of darkness. It’s kind of like a loading screen from a video game, but you are probably traveling through tunnels in walls separating the different areas.

“On your left and on your right, you can see a vast variety of treetops. Pines, birches, spruces, beeches and maple. Further in the distance, all kinds of nuts and fruit trees, even some from planets far, far away. Inedible for us, but Aliens love them.”

“This is absurd! How large is this territory? Can we even call it a room?”

“Two square kilometers of nothing but trees, machinery and constantly fertilized soil. The rate at which they grow on Earth is nothing compared to here. It’s like they speed up time. Working here is tough, because the carbon dioxide levels are increased to make the trees be more healthy and efficient.”

In awe of Yena’s quick, precise answers and her incredible knowledge, you can’t help but interrupt her avalanche of teachings and tree names:

“Yena, stop for a second please. I—wow, I’m stunned! How do you know all of this? Did you work here? And in the Kitchen as well?”

A faint blush hits her soft-looking cheeks, but unlike female characters in most media, she does not hide the redness behind timid hands. No, Yena looks straight ahead, at you, and gives her answer with a smile:

“No, I worked somewhere entirely different. I was just told to give you a tour for your new jobs, so I asked for a Helper with information and learned everything by heart. I made sure to memorize the tree names, the sizes, the numbers—”

“J-Just to show me all of this? How long did—”

“For about four hours in the last two days. I did not have that much time after work left.”

Utterly perplexed by Yena’s intelligence and work ethic, you sink back into your seat and decide to not interrupt her further. Somehow you get the feeling that she deserves your full attention for this effort; her bubbly voice makes it easy to listen to her for hours. After breathing in the very refreshing air from above the green leaves, you set up a great scene for her in your mind.

“Please Yena, continue!”

She mentions the wood chipper, the plant research centers, the humans working in a large number of different fields, the experiments with temperature, and you always nod your head at the movement of her lips, until darkness engulfs the tube-shaped train again.

“Last but not least, we enter Engine Room 101. Here you will be tasked with cleaning duties. They can range from swinging the good old broom or maneuvering high-end machinery from the 22nd century. It is important that you wear a special safety suit when you get too close to these bright engines with purple bolts of lightning. The radiation could severely hurt you and shrink your testicles. And no one wants that of course.”

Yena grins with the tip of her tongue peaking out from the corner of her mouth, as she looks in between your barely-parted legs and then directly at you. A roll of your eyes, but then you play along and raise your eyebrows. From then on out, it is basically just a festival of flirting between the two of you, with Yena giving occasional explanations about the rather dark and dull setting.

“Cleaning this place must be a horrendous chore,” you sigh, seeing corridors with needless nooks and crannies, bizarre consoles with countless switches and buttons, and weak lamps with blue light and a flicker.

“But cleaning this is definitely not a chore,” Yena giggles sultrily and points at her crotch. A surge of blood travels down your neck, chest, and abdomen, making your head slightly lighter and your other head slightly harder. One annoyingly long sequence of darkness, and you return back to Station 3-Y-E or arrive at another station—it looks the same, so you cannot be certain.

What’s certain is your hand clenching Yena’s and dragging her to the next wall. Pinned between you and the sleek white surface, she stares at you from below. You inspect her expression—pouty duck lips like she is gonna quack any moment, and sparkling, needy pupils.

“I suppose my personal guide is also my new co-actress?” you ask sarcastically, and with Yena’s shown intellect, she of course understands it instantly.

“I hope you have a good idea. Make it fun, like the other times you did it.”

“And you are really fine with getting filmed and stuff?”

“Yeah. It’s not going to end up on Earth anyways, right?”

“Right.”

“So let’s get to it, Mister Pornstar.”

#

Ms. Duck. It is not her real name, of course, but all the students call her that during breaks or in private. The reason is her lips. All throughout the school, everyone can recognize them in a matter of seconds. And so, a nickname for one of the most beloved teachers was born—or rather, predetermined. Until today, it was also a well-kept secret among your peers, but you blew it. During a lesson in Biology, you did not pay attention as usual, so when Ms. Choi called upon your name, the veil was lifted.

Ms. Duck. It is what you called her. On accident, while fumbling for words to explain the purpose of whatever-the-fuck a mitochondria is. The answer was completely wrong and instead of a ‘Miss Choi’ you said, ‘Miss Duck.’

The groans, boos, and laughs of your classmates still ring in your ear while you sit on a small uncomfortable chair in front of Ms. Choi’s desk with her seated opposite you. She nods steadily, redundant is her every motion. You dare not speak a word. Nothing you can think of can take you out of this utmost unpleasant situation.

A blank stare on the ground before you, your gaze completely averted from her, yet you feel her eyes dig into your skull to punish you for your disrespectfulness. This humiliating chagrin does not seem to have an end. Perhaps you should fall on your knees and beg for forgiveness, or be honest, or find a good lie.

Suddenly, you feel fingers on your chin raising your head to look at your teacher in front of you. You press down the loudest gulp imaginable and hide your trembling hands in the gap between your knees. 

“Miss Duck? Really?”

“I-I’m so-sorry, Miss Choi.”

“Be honest with me: Is it because of my lips?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Do you want to know what these lips can do?”

It is rather typical for a teacher to ask her students questions. Atypical is her behavior: Tickling fingers glide up and down your thigh while her mouth closes the distance rapidly, her hot breath drying out your speechless tongue even further. Her lids are already closed, yours wide open in shock. She huffs teasingly:

“Do you?”

Soft, slick lips crash onto yours. A sloppy, succulent tongue invades your mouth. The sweet sensation of your teacher's kiss removes all reason. It’s getting more and more blurry inside your mind. It’s getting harder and harder to resist your urges. It’s getting hotter and hotter throughout your body.

But why should you care about your state of mind? Why should you resist the irresistible? Why should you not embrace the burning flames, especially the one in your pants?

Yena—your teacher’s first name is of course not a secret to you—grabs the hem of your jeans and recklessly opens the belt to discard it on the floor, while you roam her back impatiently before ridding her of the now-unnecessary, blocking attire. Pleased by your newfound desire, she hums into the kiss, adding her lewd thoughts along the way:

“Yeah, you like what these lips can do, don’t you?”

“Oh, I want to see what else they can do, Miss Duck.”

“You naughty boy! Show me how much you really want to see it.”

Without another thought—although there wasn’t even a first to begin with, if you were being honest—one of your hands forces the small woman to kneel in the gap your parted legs form, while the other pulls your jeans down further. After a moan of surprise, she accepts her place with grace and fulfills your task for you. Your throbbing cock grows into the empty space while she enjoys the sight, her eyes wide, her mouth open in a perfect circle.

“What a nice hole your ducky lips can form, Miss Duck. I will have to test their usefulness with my tool.”

“Please do! Don’t hold back!”

Yeah, like she needed to say that. Her cunt is probably wet from you calling her this stupid nickname, but you’re going to test first if she is equally wet in her upper orifice. Stand up from your seat and plow into her in one motion, and lean back, mirroring that one tower somewhere in Europe.

Losing track of the location is the least of your worries: The duckling sucks with such ferociousness that you feel a premature ejaculation approach faster and stronger than a tsunami. A quick pull out from your doom, then you slap her cheeks and—of course—lips with your hot rod.

“You are so fucking needy, huh?”

Yena nods, not hiding her arousal.

“You like your face fucked, huh?”

More nods, even faster now.

“You don’t even want me to look at your exposed, toned body, with ample breasts and a leaking slit. No, you just want to get cock in your mouth, to cum even more juice on the floor.”

She only nods, up and down.

“Pathetic to let your student do this. What would others think if they knew I did this to you?”

This is grabbing her hair roughly and shooting your hips forward. It buries your cock deep in her, but not too long. This is a loop that keeps you stimulated but does not make you cum too early. The back of her throat is like a switch for her tear ducts, but they produce faster than you can pump into Yena’s face. This is also indulging in the mess you make of her. Spit and sweat slide down her slender body, staining tits, abs and thighs along the way.

Her pussy tries to rival her tear ducts as she spurts out droplets of liquid with each of your attacks. It’s like her entire body wants to get fucked all over, which makes you consider changing things up. But Yena’s euphoric sounds—the rare gags mixed with her attempts to hum sound like quacks—keep you locked in this pistoning motion. Dick in, dick out.

“How many cocks did you have in there? Your gag reflex only works—fuck—sporadically. Maybe I can finish it off.”

The constant fucking of your enormous length over her warm tongue into her tight throat does not change, but you slowly move forward, making her take more cock for a longer time. She tries to adjust, but you hold her in place and leave yourself to stay warm. Warmth for you is terrifying panic for her.

“Choke on it a little more, my little duck. Let’s end your gag reflex. I’ll—holy shit—even give you a reward.”

When she hears the word reward, Yena loosens. The choking and tears might be violent, but you will not let her die. Of course not. Such talent, beauty, and wits should not be wasted. Although you hate pulling out of the amazing sensation of her clenching and squeezing you, it is for the better.

Yena immediately starts to cough and spit everywhere, her pale body now bent in the other direction, her hair grazing your balls and her hands on your shins. Worry for her well-being reaches the last part of your brain that still has humanity—the rest is just a haze of lust.

“Are you good, Miss Choi? Did I go too—”

“N-No. M-More. My r-reward.”

Yena finishes her coughing fit and smiles at you. The mess you made of her makes you feral, but she seems to absolutely dig it—so you’re going to dick her. The desk is fitting for your idea, so you pick Yena up—her perfectly-fit legs are a surprise—and bend her over the table, ass sticking out and one leg resting on the top.

“Let’s see what these other lips can do, shall we, Miss Duck?”

A hoarse chuckle from Yena before she wiggles her butt closer to you. Then you pin her down and go full-on pound town on her, thrusting into her experienced core. Although she most likely had her fair share of sex in the past, she still feels amazing, her tight cavern wraps around your shaft, similar to her lips. Yena looks back at you, a lip bite and seductive glance are all you need to know.

You part your legs slightly and pump harder with your hips—the sound of your crotch on her small, adorable butt lewd and loud. However, it still is not enough to finally push her over the edge, so you grab her waist and use her like a fleshlight. Her light body is easily movable, and her infinite source of juices coats your shaft, and you slip in and out of her easily.

Yena moans and screams when she climaxes, but you don’t pay attention to her, only you’re chasing your pleasure through the lingering question of morality. Only when Yena starts to pound the table like you do her, you realize how overstimulated she is. Waves of girl cum look like cleaning stains on the table and floor. She whimpers.

Three long thrusts, you pull out, stroking another three times and finally releasing all of the tension with thick loads of sperm, covering her small back. The constant, broken record of feral thoughts in your brain comes to a halt. The last thing you feel is your cum leaving your tip, and this overwhelming feeling of satisfaction. Your mind might as well be in Nirvana.

Yet it is on Horizon, somewhere in the solar system. And in Nirvana, you would not drop to the ground and pass out from… whatever. 

Thanks for 1k Followers! Take this as my form of my gratitude :)

#kpop smut #izone smut #yena smut #quack

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Our Little Fishy

Summary: You just needed a relaxing day at the aquarium, a playdate with yourself, not the company of a boyband. 

Warnings: Poly AU, Little space, age regression, mc gets yelled at (but there’s an apology), sea life hyperfixation, just pretty fluffy

AN: This is the first installment in my new Little fishy drabble series! You can find the ideas, general musings and other posts under the hashtag  #little fishy mc 

--

“I rented the whole thing out so that we could have a date, just us.” Namjoon sighed happily. He leaned back into his boyfriends arms, and Jin gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m so excited. We deserve this.” There was a hum of approval throughout the car, and affection filtered through the air as they thought of their impending date. 

--

You sighed, and finally turned your phone off as you slid into your car. The small thing rang incessantly throughout the day, a shipment of fabric sending shockwaves throughout your boutique. 

You pressed your head against the steering wheel, and eyed the small blue backpack on the floor of your passenger seat. A manta ray was embroidered into the zippered front pocket, and a stuffed keychain of a koala hung next to it. You had gotten the small koala in a toy shop, a place you regularly went to pick up new coloring books and bath markers when your current ones had run out of use. 

“Will I get to be little today?” You asked the Manta Ray backpack, pulling it into your lap. “It’s been a long time, and my day was so hard.” Your voice wavered, ready to crack under the pressure of your leadership throughout the tiring day. 

You hummed to yourself, and pulled it open, looking at the notebook you carried with you everywhere. Little or not, design inspiration struck at the oddest moments. You never knew when a catwalk ready idea would pour from your fingertips and onto the page. Of course this was still your little bag, so your normal fine tipped pencils were replaced with a small pack of crayons. Just enough to jot down the color schemes as they came. 

“I think I will today.” you mused, a smiling pulling at your lips as you pulled out of the parking lot. “I deserve it.”

The plan was to go home; turn on finding dory, and clutch a beluga plush close to your chest until warm milk made you drowsy. You planned to pass out on your small, ocean themed playmat, and wake up groggily the next morning. You could have the entire weekend to stay small if you wanted, living off your meal prep and juice boxes that had been carefully tucked away in the back of the fridge. 

Instead, your eyes raked over the empty parking lot to the aquarium. You screeched your car to a halt, and pulled inside, scanning the area like a criminal instead of an interested customer. You pulled into any of the empty spaces, and pulled the little backpack to your face, squealing in delight. 

“This is amazing!” You breathed, running your hands down your denim overalls. You needed comfort while you worked, and overalls had always made you feel small, especially with the blue and green tie dye shirt underneath. It was covert enough that you looked cute, not like a little girl, even though you felt like one. 

You held onto your big headspace long enough to walk briskly through the parking lot, the soft material of the backpack soothing you as you walked to the counter. 

The girl at the counter looked surprised to see you, and hurriedly prepared a wristband. “Sorry,” She laughed once you paid for you entry, “Super quiet day. I haven’t seen anyone come in for the last four hours.” 

You breathed a sigh of relief as the wristband was secured around your wrist. “Weird, the aquarium is almost always packed, especially on Fridays.” 

She nodded. “Don’t I know it. You have fun.” 

This time you nodded, and broke into a hurried walk as you made your way in. 

--

Yoongi sat in front of the shark display, drifting in and out as Jimin rubbed his palm lovingly. “They have such weird heads.” Jimin said, a high pitched giggle at the back of his throat as his small fingers wiggled in the direction of the hammerhead shark. Yoongi hummed, that giggle was music to his ears. 

He could faintly hear Jin and Hoseok arguing playfully. Most likely over which ugly fish best fit each other, just a step away from taking it too far. 

He pulled Jimin’s knuckles to his lip, and pressed a kiss so faint you might argue it wasn’t there at all. “I love you.” 

No hesitation. No embarrassment.  “I love you too.” Only love. 

--

“Hi, Mr. Fishy!” You giggled. The fishes swam about the color reef, and you peered close, hoping to find the clownfish in his dangerous little home. After a few moments, he appeared, followed by a smaller version of himself. 

You gasped, and clapped your hands quietly. “There’s a little you? how cute! Last time I was here, there was only one!” 

The sound of footsteps startled you, and you waved towards the clownfish. “I gotta go Mister! I hope you’re not as lonely anymore!” You whispered, before dashing to the next exhibit. 

--

“I swear I heard a kid in here.” Jungkook said, staring down the hallway. Taehyung laughed. “Next thing Y’know you’re gonna tell me it’s asking us to play.” 

Jungkook scoffed, and pushed his shoulder lightly. “If I go crazy, I’m getting you first.” 

Taehyung balked as Jungkook ran in the other direction, hoping to seek protection behind Jin. He chased after him. “That is not fair!” 

--

You stopped at the entrance of the exhibit, your jaw dropping. The room had a clear glass tube in the center, Jellyfish moving in a pack through it and up into the center of the ceiling. There they separated, floating down the walls serenely.

Your eyes flitted around, and you spun around the room until you felt a gurgle in your stomach. You sat down on one of the benches, and pressed your hands between your knees as you tried to get them to stop shaking from the excitement.  

“So pretty.” You whispered. The jellyfish glowed in the dim room, and you felt your mind float into a happy space. 

--

Once Namjoon had successfully corralled his six boyfriends into a small pack, they moved to the jellyfish exhibit. Jimin’s hand was clasped in his as they reached the entrance. 

Instead of the empty room they were expecting, they saw you. You were fiddling with the clasps of your overalls, and looking giddy as you titled your head back to watch one jellyfish's journey through the glass tube. 

They were all taken aback, and whispering to themselves. How should they handle this? Could this person want something from them? Was it just a mistake? 

You hadn’t noticed them, but Jimin noticed the small clip on the side of your backpack. A blue koala.

He pulled Namjoon back as best he could with their obvious weight difference being in Namjoon’s favor, and launched forward. 

“Who the fuck are you?” He questioned, a forceful finger pointed in your direction. 

You snapped your head to him, surprise slapping you across the face. “Wha-”

“Are you one of those fans? You think stalking us will get us to talk to you?”

He paid no mind to your bewildered expression, or the tears welling in your eyes as you held onto the straps of your backpack for support.

“I can’t believe this, I wanted one nice day without being watched and people like you-” he pointed his finger aggressively- “ruin that.”

Namjoon watched your teary expression, and looked at the wristband peeking from under your long sleeves. 

“Jimin-” 

He snapped his head back. “No, Hyung! I am so tired of this. They have no right-” 

“Jimin!” 

He stopped, and They all watched as Namjoon motioned towards the wristband on your wrist, which was now shaking as you dried your blotched face. “It’s just a staff mistake. She wasn’t doing anything wrong.” 

Jimin’s look of anger turned to one of both disgust- at himself- and pity-at you. 

“Oh.” He gasped. “Oh no no no.” 

Jimin tried to rush forward, holding his ringed hands out to wipe your tears, but you batted him away. He backed into Namjoon’s hold, and they all watched as you pulled your knees to your chest and whimpered. 

“I just wanted to see the fishies!” you cried, another bout of tears flowing down your face. “I didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Jimin’s face was contorted in guilt. “I know you didn’t.” He said, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible from across the room. Your face didn’t leave the space between your knees, and he sighed. “I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do to make it up to you? anything at all.” 

You cried some more, and ignored their stares. “Just leave.” you said, tears rattling your shoulders, “Leave me alone.” 

They complied, and Jimin felt the holes in his back being burned as they entered the next room. 

--

No one spoke, but he could feel the anger and disgust radiating off of his boyfriends as they spilt away from him, speaking lowly to each other. 

He sighed, before noticing that Namjoon wasn’t with them. 

-- 

“I’m sorry. He had no right to act like that.” 

You looked up, and saw a dimpled man above you. you nodded in response to his statement, and he squatted in front of you. He watched as no recognition flitted through your eyes, only sadness. 

 “I like your charm.” 

You turned your backpack so that it faced him. Your childish voice caught him off guard, as it was no longer garbled by tears, only quiet from the exhaustion. “T’ank you. I got it from a toy store.” 

He smiled at your small speech, and reached to fiddle with the charm. “Does he have a name?” 

You shook your head. “Uh-Uh. I got him cause he was blue. I like blue.” 

He pointed at the ceiling. “Like the Ocean?” 

The first smile you had given him, and he felt his cheeks heat as your eyes moved towards the jellyfish. The reflection of the soft, dangerous bodies twinkled in your eyes like stars. You looked like you might find another galaxy tucked away in the soft pink mass.

“mm-hm. I love the ocean.” 

He smiled again, and breathed sharply, time to ask about his suspicion. 

“Do you feel small right now?” 

He watched as you fumbled, the koya charm being squeezed nervously in your hands. 

“I’m not supposed to say.” You giggled, like you were sharing a secret with him. He guessed that you were, and decided to push his luck. 

“Did your daddy tell you that?” 

You giggled some more. “I don’t have a daddy. Is just me.” 

He felt his heart beat faster, even though he had no idea why. Deeming his curiosity satisfied, even though he knew it wasn’t, he gave the charm a flick. 

“Well then you have fun today, I’m sure you’d love to see the stingrays.” He pointed towards your backpack with a smile. 

Your face fell, and you whimpered. “I’m not gonna. Not while the Meany is here.” You curled around the backpack, and took to watching the jellyfish as your eyes watered again. 

His smile fell, and he stalked to the other room, His anger grown. 

--

“She doesn’t even know who we are, Jimin.” 

Jimin knew he was right, her face was completely blank while he berated her. 

“ ‘Joon. I know.” He ran his fingers along his face, the cold metal cooling it as it heated in embarrassment. Not that any of his boyfriends would look him the face for the next few hours.

Namjoon watched the stingrays with disinterest, and he could tell the rest of his boyfriends were too. Jimin had poisoned their date with his protective nature. 

“She likes stingrays.” He whispered. Would she giggle at their smiley faces on their big white bellies? He thought. Or maybe she would tug at their hands and pull them to the petting pool, and Jin would cringe as she pulled his hand down to the stingray’s back. He laughed to himself as he imagined them bickering over the skin. Slimy versus Smooth. 

“What?” Yoongi said, turning towards him. Namjoon captured his hand. 

“She likes stingrays.” 

Yoongi nodded, he knew that look. Him and Jin had shared it five other times. 

“Then let’s go show her the stingrays.” 

Jungkook appeared next to them. “Have you seen Jimin?” 

--

Wordlessly, he held the Jellyfish plush in front of your downturned face. You looked up, and he watched as your said expression changed slightly, flitting around the pink tentacles. 

He then held the bottle of water next to it. “Thought you might be dehydrated.” He whispered. You nodded, and took them both quietly. 

He watched as you tucked the jellyfish into your backpack, and he could swear he saw a coloring book in the second it was open. 

“Can I sit?” 

You looked at him for a moment, before scooting to the very end of the bench. He took the hint, and sat on the other end. 

You fiddled with the bottle top while he spoke, wringing his hands nervously in his lap. 

Namjoon and the rest of his boyfriends got to the entrance just as he began speaking. He shushed them quietly as they peered into the room. 

“I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that-” You held the bottle out to him. “Open please” 

He smiled, and took it. “Of course.” 

“I like jellyfish.” You said, before taking a large gulp of water. “They make me happy, so do manta rays. Did you know their wingspan can reach up to 23 feet?” 

You thought you heard a quite giggle from the entrance, and a “how cute” 

“No, I didn’t.” He breathed, running a hand through his hair. “As I was saying, that was horrib-” 

You cut him off. “You were a jerk.” 

His boyfriends had to stifle giggles as they watched his bewildered face. “Yes, I was.” 

“And you feel bad about it.” 

“Yes, I do.” 

You shrugged. “Ok.” 

He spluttered, “Don’t I need to apolog-” 

“I don’t want your apology!” For the first time your small voice showed through, weak and tired. 

Namjoon couldn’t take it any longer, watching you whimper into your hands broke his heart, and panged the heart of his boyfriends. 

“Hey, little one.” He whispered, crouching in front of you. Jimin’s face twisted in confusion. “Little one? What the fuck ‘Joon?” Namjoon just shot him a glare that said “I’ll tell you later.” Jimin left the bench with a huff.

“It’s the man from earlier. We talked about the ocean.” 

You giggled, and looked down at him. “I know who you are, silly.” 

“Is your name ‘Joon?” You asked. 

He smiled, “Yeah, it is.” His hands reached for your cheeks, and you let him brush the dewy orbs away. “What’s your name?” 

“(Y/N).” 

“Well (Y/N), Do you want to come see the stingrays with us?” 

--

“Why did he call her little one?!” Jimin seethed, “She doesn’t need a pet name from our boyfriend!” 

Yoongi brushed Jimin’s arm lovingly. “He likes her, and I can’t say I’m not interested.” 

Jimin looked at the group incredulously. there was a low murmur of agreement. “What?” He tapped his leather boot against the carpeted floor. “Just ‘cause she’s,” He looked back at You and Namjoon. The sight of his hands cradling your face affected him more than he wanted to admit. “Cute. You want to bring her into this relationship?” 

“We’re just saying to give her a chance. One date. right here, right now. If we don’t like her then,” Hoseok shrugged, ”we won’t wonder about the cute girl at the aquarium when we leave.” 

He sighed, and watched Namjoon jog over. “Fine. One date.” 

“And?” He found himself asking. “What did she say?” 

Namjoons eyes were sparkling. “Before we do this, do you guys know what age regression is?” 

--

Jungkook fell back to walk with Namjoon, leaving Taehyung to whisper with Jin. “So,” He nudged Namjoon’s shoulder, “This isn’t one of those weird sex things right?” 

‘Joon rolled his eyes playfully. “No, it’s not. It’s a headspace. We’re basically acting like caregivers right now, which is still important if we want to bring her into the relationship.” 

Jungkook’s eyes lit up, “So... we’d get to do this all the time?” 

“Yes. we would.” 

Namjoon watched as Jungkook’s pupils nearly turned into hearts. They were pinned to you and Yoongi, who took to the idea quite quickly, intertwining your fingers and asking if you had anymore facts about manta rays.

“I think it’s cute.” He whispered. “I’d like to have someone to take care of.” 

Namjoon nodded. He thought about it. Jungkook had always been their baby, the one being doted on it. It didn’t occur to him that he might like to do the doting too. 

The conversations came to an abrupt halt as you let out a gasp. 

“The petting pool!” You tugged on Yoongi’s hand, nearly pulling him to the floor as you tried to dash to the large tub. He stayed rooted to the spot, quirking an eyebrow. 

“What do we say when we want to go somewhere?” 

You pulled your best puppy dog eyes. “Puh-leaseeee” 

He chuckled. “Alright. Go ahead.” 

You squealed in delight, and jet off towards the pools. Before you reached the pools, you felt arms wrap around your waist and lift you upwards. 

Taehyung carried you over to the sink, and set you down in front of it. “Wash your hands first, we don’t want to make the fishies sick.” 

You nodded, and washed them vigorously as Taehyung stood over you. Once you were done, he praised you and dried your hands for you. 

“Time to see the stingrays.” He sing-songed. You giggled with glee, and it felt like the tune of a sweet song written just for him. 

Before you put your hand in, you held out a hand to Jin. 

He was far away, putting as much space between him and the pool as the room allowed. “Jinnie touch ‘ray with me?” 

He huffed. He wanted to, but he also never wanted to touch a stingray again. “How about this?” He bargained. “I’ll hold your hand while you touch them.” 

You nodded happily, and he took your free hand into his. Him and Taehyung looked at each other as you bent forward, murmuring to the stingray as your fingers gently grazed it’s back. 

“I like her.” Taehyung whispered, watching you ooh and ahh. Jin smiled. “Me too.” 

--

“Do you sleep in a big bed?” 

Hoseok, or Hobi as he let you call him after you had trouble pronouncing his name, looked at you, sitting crisscrossed on the floor in front of the seahorses. 

“What?” 

You moved your hands while you talked, like you were trying to draw a bed in the air. “Y’know, when you’re with somebody you sleep with them.” 

He nodded, and shared a look with Jimin, who was also sat on the bench above you. “Keep going.” 

“But there’s so many of you! so do you have a real big bed, or do you sleep on the floor?” You gasped, “Like a sleepover.” 

They both laughed. “We have a really big bed.” Hobi said. “Would you like to sleep in the big bed with us?” 

They watched as you fiddled with your fingers. Your voice was quiet. “Y-Yes.”

Jimin smiled. “I think you’ll be able to sleep in the big bed with us soon.” 

Hobi elbowed him playfully. They giggled. Soon, you were giggling with them.

-- 

“I had alotta fun, Joonie.” 

“We had fun too.” 

You were all stood at the entrance to the gift shop, about to say your goodbyes. Jimin watched as Namjoon deflated, looking at the door as if it was a prison sentence. He cleared his throat, and pressed by you. “Y’know, I think we want to get gifts for each other. Why don’t you help us with that?” 

You looked at them, waiting for confirmation. “Y-Yes!” Jin said. “We definitely want to do that, let’s go.” 

They all ushered you inside, and watched as your face lit up. Their were rows of books and plushes, all sea animals coming to life under the florescent bulbs. 

You snaked your hand into ‘Joons, and pulled him over to the books. “Look, Joonie! They have a book on crabs!” 

You saw his face light up as he pulled one down. “They do, don’t they little one? Thank you for finding that!” 

You smiled at his praise, before Taehyung pulled you away. He held up a large tub, small figurines of marine life staring back at you. “What do you think?” You gasped. “I love it!” 

“I should buy that.” You murmured, but Taehyung didn’t catch it. You wandered over to the plush section and stared for a few moments. After a large debate in your little headspace, you picked up a pebble whale plush. the black and white spots were fuzzy, and you ran your hands along its back while you meandered around. 

“What are you doing with that?” 

You turned, clutching the whale to your chest. Jungkook stared down at you, and reached out to run his tattooed fingers along the soft plush. 

“Imma buy it.” 

He cocked his head. “With what money, little girl?” 

You giggled at the pet name. “My big girl money.” 

He smiled, and cooed at your adorable expression. “That seems like a really big decision. Why don’t you let a big boy pay for it?” 

“O-Ok” 

He took the plush from your hands, and walked to the counter. His boyfriends followed suit, all with a gift or two tucked into their hands. 

“Whatcha getting?” You asked, trying to peer into Hobi’s hands. He simply tutted, and hid them from you. “You’ll see.” 

After they all paid, Jungkook gingerly pressed a bag into your hand. “Your plush, and a little surprise.”

“Thank you, Koo.” 

Your doe eyes made him feel gooey around the edges, and he took your hand as they all escorted you to your car. With the help of your pointing. 

Once you were seated in the drivers seat, and they had put your bags in the car for you, They crowded around you. 

“I had alotta fun! Can I see you again?” 

They cooed at your outstretched hands, and Namjoon took one into his. “You can, just make sure to look at your surprise. Ok?” 

You nodded. “Ok!” 

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, which made you giggle and wiggle in your seat. “Stay here until you feel big again. We wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” 

With those instructions, they took off, waving happily until they reach their SUV and piled inside. 

Once they peeled out of the parking lot, you found yourself digging through the gift shop bag. You pulled the whale plush into your lap, and out fell a book. On the cover was a small cartoon crab. ‘Joon had to have gotten this, You thought. 

You opened it, and on the first page was a phone number in a neat scrawl. Under that was a note. 

Want to have another playdate? Give us a call.

#little fishy mc #bts x reader #bts ot7 x reader #bts x little! reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #taehyung x reader #yoongi x reader