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desultory-novice · 6 months

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A-ahem. Starting over again...

@newthinkerer found THS post and said to me: "I'm sure the Kirby fandom has done something to grind your gears."

Which, in truth, the answer is not lately / not really no. ^^; But it wasn't hard to reach in and find some "comical outrage" style gear-grindy answers for those who find such rants entertaining! So, here those are for everyone's (hopeful) enjoyment

[Original Response Below] Ohhh? Did you want "Salty" Dess? XD Let's go down the list...!

Marx / Reduced to one single trait

Look, I know the games don't give people much to go on, but a lot of people (1) seem ha~ppy to come up with pages and pages of backstory for all the other characters - but Marx? Nope. Marx is the one character who people seem almost allergic to rounding out when he is RIPE with mystery and potential. "But the game doesn't tell us anything about him so maybe he isn't that big of a deal, Dess?" Tsk! The game tells us just as little about Meta Knight! The only difference is the number of appearances! Use your imagination, people!

It's like some folks are trying to invoke the Smash Bros conspiracy theory that Kumazaki and Sakurai have a rivalry (they don't) and just like Sakurai would NEVER put a Kumazaki-era character in Smash (...he already did in the form of the trophies) no one is allowed to characterize Marx cause he's from the Sakurai-era of Kirby where characters just didn't have personalities and lore! Pah, I say!

Oh yeah, if you want to see me destroy something, say "He was just hungry!" : ) in my presence. Do it. I dare youuuuuu...!

:holds Magolor over a wood chipper:

Susie / They stole (...some planetary resources and MK's autonomy...) and fandom labeled them a hard criminal

You all knew this one was coming, right? ^^ But if I start up the Susie debate again, I'm going to regret it so, uh, let's move on...

Kirby / Popular headcanon so off-base it hurts.

I fear the Metadad people have their hands over the block button right now. But it's not that MetaDad is necessarily wrong! MK can act protective, sure. It's "Baby Kirby" that is wrong! He lives on his ownnnnnn with a houseeee he does not need babyinnnng.....!!

Magolor / Constant (eh, semi-frequent??) misinterpretation

...I want to be as gentle as possible when I say this because I GET IT. Please believe me when I say I understand so, so much and as far as AU versions/alternate HC goes, it's fine! This isn't a call out!

But... Magolor being a shy, reserved kitty boy who just wants...f-friends... Look, Magolor may not have EVERY disease, but he does have a lot of them. However awkward he may be though, the form his awkwardness takes is very clearly extroverted! Again, it's super okay though because I get seeing yourself or an aspect of yourself you're dealing with in a character and wanting to make them more like you! Dess supports comfort characters! (Plus, my own version of Magolor is a little laser-sighted on his frustrated side)

...But he runs a shop and a theme park. He actually LIKES talking to/dealing with people! He gets along with Marx because he LIKES tricking people. He likes to get under people's skin! He doesn't fear it! Magolor is/has been sad and probably has some deep trauma, yeah. But he also deserves to be more than :gif of a sad cat:

DMK / The worst takes....

I'm not going to start up The Debate here, same as with Susie, but... The unabashed glowing adoration the fandom has for Meta Knight and you take away ONE good trait and enhance ONE bad trait and now he is Satan?!? Some of you people hate him more than HYNESS (:spoken by a Hyness fan:) and I don't know why?!

Maybe add on "He would never say that" for the people who do the opposite and make him exactly like MK but he says the F word

Daroach / ...Ignored

Like, the real crime (haha, get it? crime?) about Daroach is that he IS used occasionally. More than like, I dunno, Chew Kawasaki? But when he does show up, it's with his crew being "The Leader of the Squeaks" (showcasing that Dad Energy(tm)) or DMK's husband. (The thief and the murderer are boyfriends! Diversity win!) And...that's it?

Daroach has so much potential to interact with literally everyone?! He roasts Dedede IN GAME?! Why are people not running with this energy more?! (Also, shipping Darkroach because of that one picture is fine. I do too. Shipping Darkroach because you don't want to break up MetaDede and so you relent to "giving" him MK's mirror clone like buying a grieving kid a new puppy is...kinda weird? Just me?)

Adeleine / Reduced to one single trait (part two)

...This might sound like THE most hypocritical thing coming from the creator of "Apologies" aka, "Sad Siblings in Snow" but Adeleine potentially being from Shiver Star (potentially!) equating her to "The Little Match Girl." Now I love all kinds of Adeleine origin headcanons! And I also love Sad Adeleine on Shiver Star stories! I don't want to put an end to them or suggest they are bad thing! Never!

But... I worry e~very now and then THAT is the thing people find most interesting about her. That she would/should be a sad girl when she's really not. Since writing "Apologies," I've gotten a handful of asks about how Adeleine must be really sad about Noir's death or asking if she will ever be able to smile again and... like...um...

...S-she is? Already smiling, that is. ^^; "Apologies" was crafted in a way to PROTECT Adeleine's innocence so that she can be happy and relatively close to the canon Adeleine! Adeleine being able to move on with her life and smile and make friends is exactly the thing Noir died for - so that Adeleine wouldn't have the life he did!

So, again, kinda hypocritical of me because I actually really like sad Adeleine art and "Adeleine the Human" HC, but I sometimes fear it might become all that she is. :spoke by a contributor to this trend:

...TLDR, continue to write and draw Adeleine angst because it allows me to ignore the option I almost considered just for a second which was sexualiza...Nope. We're going to go back to forgetting about all that unfortunate Pixiv content right.this.minute!

(1) So, despite my tone and the things I said, I'm not actually upset at anyone for anything they'd done! I'm really happy that people are creating at all - whether you're writing sad Magolor or itty bitty Kirby or lol random Marx or PTSD Adeleine or trophy husband Daroach!

I don't even see a lot of the things I'm ostensibly complaining about anymore, honestly. Thus my reasons for posting less and less salt on this account! Outside of a few fandom kerfluffles in the last month (alas...) I would say we're actually in an era of peace as far as good content about the characters goes! People are thinking and inventing. People are having fun. People are being measured with their takes and anything "gear grindy" is really going to be remembered stuff from the past, not present flaws!

...plz don't block me...

#Kirby #Marx #Magolor #Daroach #Adeleine #Susie Haltmann #Dark Meta Knight #Dess Ramblings #cw: salt #I worry more that my blorbos will be 'stuck in the past'#Defined by that one memorable thing they did one time #and not allowed to grow/be experimented with #Or people will find the one trait they like the most #and stick with it cause it's the most appealing to them #(But not THAT worried because I do this a lot too!)#Which is why I don't consider any of these flaws #Certainly not grievous ones or fandom crimes!#Just something to think about/shake stuff up!#Hopefully no HC were harmed in the making of this post #Like I know a lot of people DO have detailed Marx HC!#And I also love a shivering wet helpless Magolor!#Evil Scientist Susie? Heck yeah! Go girl!#I have a couple of MetaDad posts favorited too #And Darkroach is a cool ship #That's what I mean that none of these really bother me! XD

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caffeinatedopossum · 1 year

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Suddenly realizing I've had seizures before :0 but this was just the first one where someone who knew what it was was there to witness it (my girlfriend)

That's so cool and definitely not terrifying /s

#for context i dont spasm uncontrollably like people imagine seizures #i think from the outside it probably just looks like im having a bunch of tics and staring intently and being unresponsive #but then afterwards i end up being really confused and disoriented and forgetful #so its been very easy to forget about the seizures i had in the past because i didnt remember them #until just recently when i was like 'huh that felt familiar-'#from my perspective though its like uh idk its really weird #its a bit different every time but just in general #i tend to be unresponsive even if i can tell whats happening around me #i cant talk or control what my body is doing but i know what part is moving (usually jerkinv my head or arms)#my muscles feel either really rigid or really lax #and then my vision gets so weird #everything is sparkly like colorful static and the edges of my vision gets really dark #and there's intermittent flashes of lights or floating shadows #it feels like im extremely focused and very spaced out at the same time #i keep describing it like my brain is smashing all the buttons at once cause thats what it feels like #its also kinda similar to the feeling of being electrocuted? but i dont think many of you will know what that feels like #hopefully you wont at least #i just happen to #its like a weird buzzing just under your skin that doesnt exactly hurt but doesnt exactly not hurt either #it would be like the pain of a constantly tightened muscle- not painful at first but like strenuous to endure ?#and thdn painful if it stays like that or gets worse #i feel like im not allowed to say i had a seizure because i cant go to doctors about it so i cant get diagnosed >_<#but the thing is not bei g diagnosed isnt gonna stop me from having them #yay denial /j #im hoping theyre just dissociative seizures because god i cannot deal with epilepsy on top of everything else rn #and also because i cant see doctors right now sooo #god im exhausted and scared but i feel like those words dont even measure up to how im doing right now #i dont know. im just enduring #thats all i can really do i think #but i hope i dont have to much longer...

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hella1975 · 9 months

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normal again :)

#what the hell was even all that!!!!#im still going through it but like. ive been better today like i didnt just ferment in a dark room hardly eating #and i also got some writing done that actually worked exactly how i wanted it to and i had that age old 'ive still got it!' moment #bc every time i encounter so much as a stone in the road of my writing i convince myself im terrible always have been terrible #will never be good ever and everyone hates me. so there's that #and then i actually interacted with my family and left the blinds up and now we just ordered a take out together so im just. existing #someone is having a paintball battle in my brain still but im being much more chill about it today god bless #and that's all that matters! as long as no one can TELL im going through it it doesnt count! showing emotions is bad! for the love of GOD #dw im pissing myself off too it's okay LMFAO #im gonna answer some asks though! bc not only is there a shitton again but also that always puts me in a good mood #sorry to anyone who has sent me time sensitive asks in the past few weeks. my motivation has just been dead #i do see and enjoy everything i get sent though so please dont feel like it was wasted and ill hopefully still answer it :)#hella goes home

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sluttyten · 2 years

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me @ me: just finish writing the Monsterfucking fic that is almost three weeks late now!!

also me: let’s just draw this out and add one more smut scene to this before I move on

#I’m sorry y’all #it took like 20k before I wrote a word of smut #but the past 11k has almost all been smut #and I’m about to start another smut scene #and then I know for a fact that there’s at least one more after that but I also have to put some like plot in there in between #I don’t know does it count as plot if it’s just building toward more smut?#and then probably another scene at least after that if more smut #lowkey feel like I could just turn this into a dark adult romance novel at this point except the world building is not fleshed out enough #even though I just said that the first big chunk didn’t have smut 😂#I was stuck for a few days though on the smut that I just wrote but hopefully the next part will go smoother #because I just want to finish this #I have books I want to read but I spend most of my free time writing #gonna try to write some on my break at work tomorrow but I’d #it’s* difficult to write smut when you’re surrounded by old people or students who are just trying to do their work #and also when you’re trying to eat and ignore all those people #and especially so when the smut you’re writing involves multiple people

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tillman · 2 years

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havent played fighting game in like a few weeks due to The Circumstances but i was fucking around in mom mode in xrd just to get a feel for it again..... much much fun. i am deeply bad. in my defense its the game i have the least amount of practice in and i kept trying to brute force it exactly like i would play +r BUT. its a good time

#cant wait cant wait cant wait i am going to lose so hard to violet wehn we can play together and not play a slide show #txt #i finally got hte input for dark angel down. everyone clap and cheer that one is a pain in the ass for me #and im Finally getting a feel for venoms fkucking uh what are they called. Charge moves. those. finally. i can do them semi .#im blanking on the other word. a lot. i can do them semi a lot. what the fuck ever #im almost done my MEDICINE REGIMENT so hopefully this brain fog will leave me alone its been really bad the past few days buuuuut. smiiiles #sooo wide. i can atl east sit up in my bed for longer periods of time without feeling like im dying . so im video jaming

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cinna-bunnie · 1 year

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being an it manager for 4 offices is emailing someone less than 5 very specific, short, straightforward steps on how to do something trivial on a computer and sitting there in bewilderment when u get a response with them at an inconceivably different outcome like?? 😭 if u were in my office i could just walk over n show u but also WHAT are u talking about.

#I'm telling someone how to extract a zip file and like.#w windows it's LITERALLY just right click » extract all » extract. and u r done #wth do u mean u don't have a zip account or subscription skdkf #anyways.. i shared more specific simple step by step instructions for how to do That.#but also how to do it in powershell without needing to know anything abt powershell #and said if they need more help then open a ticket.. which at that point imma remote into ur computer n see WHAT ur dealing with #i try to not b that person ppl r afraid to ask a question to bc it'll feel like a dumb question 🫠#and while i strongly believe there is no such thing as a dumb question. i DO believe there is wasting someone's time #if u made it this deep pls provide ur local IT support person with SPECIFICS. details! something they can use to investigate n help #screenshots even.. u can copy part of ur screen to ur clipboard by pressing alt+win+s and paste into an email #anyways sry im just venting bc good lord 😭 sometimes i feel like im going crazy.#but also a lil pissy im in person today n forgot my backpack which also includes my glasses so im a lil nauseous from the screen #but i also installed a night mode extension that makes Everything dark so hopefully that helps #along w.. not doing stuff on the computer as much as possible today #also jk the key combo is win+shift+s. i always forget it from memory but have it memorized by muscle memory when im at a keyboard lol

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queercatboyrights · 2 years

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exhausted,,,,cannot wait,,,,to sleep,,,,I have forgotten just how high energy puppies are

#nebbles talks #i should hopefully be able to sleep soon #i am just so tired ive had like a collective 4 hours of sleep in the past 48 hours lmao #poor milo (the puppy) had been having a rough time crate training so hes been crying a lot :(#thankfully though after some work trying to get him more comfortable w/ the crate #+ putting some familiar blankies and toys in he seems a lot more calm about being in the crate #also threw a blanket over the crate so its dark for him and that seems to be helping too!!#just gonna wait for him to settle down more and fall asleep and then i can go to bed finally #puppies are. so much work. but he is well worth it!!

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valoisfulcanellideux · 1 month

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About the AO3 "No Guest Comments for a while" warning

If you're not following any of AO3's social media accounts you might be in the dark as to what kind of "spam comments" have engendered this banner at the top of the site:

These spam comments have been posted about a great deal on the AO3 subreddit for the past couple of days. Initially they comprised a bunch of guest (logged out users) bot comments that insulted authors by suggesting they were using AI and not writing their own fics. Some examples, from the subreddit:

But it then escalated to outright graphic porn images and gifs being posted in comments, again by logged out 'Guest' accounts. Obviously, I'm not going to give examples of those, but between these two bot infestations, AO3 has clearly decided to act and has temporarily closed the ability to post comments for users who are not logged in with an AO3 account.

Unfortunately, this means that genuine readers who don't have an AO3 account won't be able to leave comments on fics that they enjoy.

If you are a genuine reader who doesn't yet have an AO3 account, I strongly suggest getting yourself on the waiting list for one. More and more AO3 authors are now locking their fics down to registered users only - either due to these bot comments or concerns about AI scraping their work - which means you're probably missing out on a lot of great stuff.

Hopefully guest commenting will be enabled again at some point soon, but I suggest not waiting until then. Get yourself on that list.

Wait times are going to be longer than usual at the moment, due to the current Wattpad purge [info on Fanlore | Wattpad subreddit thread], but if you're in line, then your invite will come through eventually.

Update: There's now a Megathread about this on the AO3 subreddit.

#ao3

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postmortemnivis · 3 months

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no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her.

simon really meant it, every bit of it, he’d come back to you somehow. he would find his way back to you. wether it was walking through the front door quietly not to wake you up in the middle of the night or cold in a coffin. he’d rather have you hold his dead body than not to have you touch his skin ever again.

that’s what simon was thinking about as his ear ringed so loud he couldn’t focus on his surroundings. he looked up at the sky, so blue it almost didn’t feel right. why so blue when so much blood was being shed?

he occasionally would feel the ground he was laying on tremble, maybe a hand grenade, maybe a body falling next to his. the smell of gunpowder filled his covered nostrils and he could feel his lungs collapsing on themselves from the thickness of the air he was breathing. his eyes weren’t doing good either, filled with dust and sand from the dry earth.

it took him a few more seconds to focus his eyes on something, something that possibly wasn’t moving, his head spinning each time he tried to sit up. something was weighting on his legs, holding him down. he struggled to raise his torso and groaned at the sight of a large body blocking him. he let himself fall back down.

he was ready to go, a sharp pain to his side telling him he wouldn’t last long alone. he’d been through worse, way worse, the scar provided by the meat hook was proof of that, but something was telling him this was as bad. he was ready to go.

the only thing he could think about in his last moments was you. he thought he could see glimpses of you, maybe your hair in the corner of his eyes or he’d hear your laugh as another fire shooting started. his eyes searched for you frantically. he wanted to tell you to leave immediately, scream it at the top of his lungs, but his voice was caught in his throat and you weren’t really there. his mind just playing cruel tricks on him.

your name was repeated like a mantra in his head, repeating it so many times it almost lost a meaning. almost. a prayer, a chant. he sure needed to pray, for you.

he had been shelving the thought that tormented him for months. he wanted to go and confess his sins, he almost felt the need, his palms itching with haste anytime he thought about it. years had passed since the last time he had set foot in a church, so many that he had almost forgotten the reason for the visit. the ghosts of the past never abandon you, especially if they are people you love, especially if they are family, the innocent. its always the innocent who pay the highest price.

‘i wonder what she’s doing now, who’s gonna knock on her door and tell her im gone.’ he thought. ‘hopefully price. he’s the one with tact and the most considerate. he’ll help her when i’m gone, keep an eye on her.’

the sweet smell of your hair replaced for a moment the one of blood and gunpowder, your laughter still echoing in his ears. he pictured your sweet face and big innocent eyes looking up at him.

“promise me something?”

“mhm?” he hummed, surprised you were still up. his hand hadn’t stopped caressing your hair since you laid down on his chest, your hand resting on his collarbone as your ear listened to his calm heartbeat. “yeah, anything.”

“promise me you’ll always come back.” you whispered in the dark room. “promise me, simon.”

he nodded, taken aback by your request. you weren’t the fondest of his job, he knew it, he hated to concern you like he did.

“yes.”

“promise.” you urged. “please.”

he bent his head down and kissed the top of yours, his arm sliding down your back and drawing you closer by your waist. “i will, love. i’ll always come back to you.”

you sighed, the knot of thoughts in your worried head began to untie. “mh.”

“better now?” he softly asked. his voice was hoarse from his constant shouting orders at the obstreperous recruits. you gave a short nod. “i mean it.”

he groaned as he managed to get the body off of himself, struggling to get on his knees.

fucks sake, he couldn’t let you live with him gone like this. it was selfish of him to leave you in such an abrupt way, really. he tried to push away the image of you opening the door to find price with a carton box filled with simons stuff from the barracks with the balaclava and skull mask on top and your knees hitting the floor before he could even say anything.

his legs didn’t feel like they could hold his weight up, he immediately fell to his knees as he heard another rapid fire too near him for his liking. his gun was long gone, he had to manage to survive alone, again.

“crawlin’ it is.” he breathed as he started to drag his tired body with the strength of his arms alone. you had always praised his strength: he could lift you with one arm alone, you loved to be held and hold on to his arm anywhere and at anytime. that was the main reason he always pushed for more while training, and the motivation your sweet compliments always gave him now were gonna save his life. he made a mental note to kiss and hold you a little longer and tighter if he ever made it home alive.

he could see the building his team was supposed to meet up in case things got bad. it looked so far away that it was alarmingly close. maybe it was just his messed up vision, a mirage, but he could swear he saw you from a window looking at him, urgently motioning him to come.

he brought the thick balaclava above his nose so he could breathe better and as enemy gunfire continued to flow, he kept his head low as he moved dead bodies from his way.

he could hear your voice calling for him and he wanted to call you for you back, but the noises of the battlefield were hurrying him to get to the safe zone first.

he stumbled by the door as he brought himself up, one hand stabilizing him as he held on to the doorframe as the other went to press on his wound.

“lt!” johnnys voice called before he rushed to help him. “ye cheeky bastard, i told them not to leave yet, to wait for ye.”

“gaz saw you get shot.” price swung simon’s arm over his shoulder in order to help him to the nearest table, where he laid down.

“he saw that right.” simon bit the inside of his cheek as price inspected his wound, pressing on it. “is he a‘ight?”

“he’s fine, hit his head but had his helmet on, he’s getting checked out by the medics.” price informed him as simon winced at the sharp pain. “there’s at least two bullets in here, didn’t pass through, stuck.”

“just take ‘em the fuck out.” simon groaned. “how’s it lookin’?”

“you’ll live.” price patted his shoulder in comfort before he went to call a medic.

“we really thought we’d lost ye there, lt.” johnny’s face was glowing with sweat and blood, the black war paint smudged messily all around his face and his mohawk dusted.

“helicopter’s leaving in thirty, boys!” price’s baritone voice called from the other room.

simon scoffed, sighing and closing his eyes, finally letting himself relax as your figure started to fade from the corner of the room where it’d been standing, silently looking at him. “won’t lose me, can’t wait to go home, johnny.”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simons a loverboy at heart #simon is not ghost

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omgeto · 9 months

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oh you wanna play psycho killer? can i be the helpless victim...

｡･:*˚:✧｡ authors note — my first kinktober!! ahh go crazy. i will try my best to write good smut for you people. here's my master list so you can see what im cooking up for you guys. i might add some more but for now here it is... MDNI!!

OCTOBER 1ST...

THRILL(h)ER — satosugu x reader

when watching a scary movie with your two best friends, you cant help but hold onto them tight every time you get jumpscared. but as the night goes on and your fingers roam... wait, what movie were you watching again?

cw: threesome (duh), double penetration, blowjobs, spanking, praise & degredation

OCTOBER 7TH...

your 'ONLY FAN' — dilf neighbour!toji x cam girl!reader

when you're a top cam girl, your used to having thousands of people watching you every night. yet among the masses, theres one fan that stands out. he not only is a high tipper but is someone you happen to know all too well. and he's about to go to long lengths to prove to you that he's the only fan of yours that matters.

cw: toji breaks into your house and blows your back out. facefucking, slight choking, use of toys, consensual sex tape making, sight breeding.

OCTOBER 14TH...

when you fuck your older neighbour — nanami, toji, geto, gojo

on the way to a halloween party, you just couldn't help but put a little pep in your step as your strut past your older neighbours house. and he can't help notice how tight and tiny your outfit is — it can barely fit. not that it matters anyway... it'll be off of you before the clock strikes 11...

cw: age gap (duh), spanking, nipple play, face riding, dick riding, all types of riding

OCTOBER 21st...

a quiet place — nanami x babysitter!reader

after returning from trick or treating with his kids, your 'boss' can't help but beg you stay the night with him. hoping to give you a 'treat' of his own. but shhh... you can't get too loud, his kids are sleeping.

cw: breeding, raw sex, talks of pregnancy, a whole lotta cum

OCTOBER 31st...

"CULT?... i thought this was a bathroom." — geto x reader

on a drunken halloween night you thought you were stumbling your way into the bathroom of a club, but you end up stumbling into the lap of a cult leader. and he doesn't like people like you. instead of doing what he usual does to your 'kind' he decides to punish you a different way — in front of all of his followers.

cw: public sex, major degradation, dark content... (slay)

so what do you think. what do you think of the banner? I tried really hard to make this whole thing so hopefully you guys love the layout AND THE FIC IDEAS. which one are you most exited for lmk :) also don’t use my header pls and thanks THERE IS NO TAGLIST <;33

#stampedwithane★#jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #toji smut #geto smut #nanami smut #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk fic #toji fushiguro smut #geto suguru smut #gojo satoru smut #nanami kento smut

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aroaessidhe · 1 year

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2023 reads // twitter thread

Legend of the Storm Sneezer

quirky middle grade high fantasy about a winged girl with a magical stormcloud that causes trouble

kids with unstable magic in an asylum in a magical forest full of ghosts

she, her best friend, and her time-travelling future selves team up to solve the mystery of the past before it happens again

#Legend of the Storm Sneezer #aroaessidhe 2023 reads #ok i read this bc apparently both MCs are aroace (but not til book 3)#the good: this gave me so much nostalgia for like. the truly quirky MG high fantasy i read a bunch of as a kid #it doesn't take itself too seriously #like. some aspects of the edge chronicles; keys to the kingdom; muddle earth....#i think what this lacks compared to those is structure #there is SO much info and worldbuilding just kinda shoved in there that i don't understand the context or relevance to the plot #the pacing is rough. it shows them meeting then is like montage they’re best friends now two years later #the whole time travel thing is told to us via journal entries and annotations which honestly was just confusing and felt unnecessary?#and felt like.....untrusting of young readers. like it spells out * means scene break *** means time jump #but time travel Anything doesn't come up til well past half way through the (long) book #it could have just been introduced to the reader in the actual plot #an extremely personal pet peeve: GLOWWORM INNACURACIES!!!!!!!!!!#glowworms are not a light source!!!#I know its a fantasy book but please tell me you're aware Real glowworms emit as much light as stars (relatively) you can’t see by them!!#And THEN they dropped like falling stars how? u know they're Slimy things that wiggle around in glue sacks stuck to the ceiling. They can't #drop????#and finally. why is this boy descibed as having dark skin but is fully white in the illustrations/cover.#anyway: i may read the others if they're also on scribd later on and hopefully they get structurally better?

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bayjaruchel · 7 months

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Underneath The Strobe Light

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Pairing: Mike Schmidt (2023)/AFAB Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You're aware of your feelings for Mike, but you're unsure if he feels the same. A single late-night conversation changes everything. (4.2k | originally posted on ao3 | Masterlist )

Extra Notes: Posted October 29, 2023

－－－

You know Mike, sometimes. Mainly in bits and pieces.

You know he has that poster of Nebraska above his bed; you know he's got a soft spot for terrible eighties cartoons. You know he likes his steak well done. Maybe it's generally useless information — but you've tucked it all away in a dear corner of your brain, in a well-worn cardboard box with his name scrawled fondly on the side in Sharpie.

He's been busy nowadays, especially with his awful new job at that abandoned restaurant. You've always been there if he needs someone to watch over Abby. It's a strange juxtaposition— spending more and more time at his house, but spending less and less time actually talking to him. But you know he's exhausted, both mentally and physically.

You don't expect much. You don't need much. Even though Mike's always offered to actually pay you for babysitting Abby, you've always declined.

However— needing and wanting are two very different things.

And you want. So, so much.

Sitting here, on the couch in his living room, your mind always wanders back to him. Abby's a really nice kid, even if she's a little on the eccentric side. Whenever you're sitting with her, watching her draw or watching the television, you can't really focus on Mike. But now, with her safely put to bed … There's nothing to stop you. Nothing to distract you from the empty spot next to you on the couch.

You blink, already bleary-eyed from the hour. There's some mediocre sitcom playing on the television. It's practically white noise, and you can feel yourself slowly but surely being lulled to sleep. The stubborn part of you wants to fight it. The tired part of you wants to just let it happen. You fumble for the remote instead, switching the channel.

World News Now?

Not bad, you think wryly, slumping back into the pillows. You liked the guy playing the accordion and singing about the news, polka-style. Hopefully they'll bring that back. Maybe large broadcasting networks actually do know their audiences.

Yeah, no.

You stifle a yawn, tugging your blanket a little tighter. The room's dark, so the only real sources of light are coming from the kitchen and the bluish glow of the television. The only sounds besides that of the T.V. are the occasional car passing by, joined by the gentle chorus of crickets. It's quiet, but not in a discomforting way.

It's kind of perfect. Like your own little bubble in the world. Untouchable. Not until the sun rises, anyway.

Your bubble suddenly pops when a car pulls into the driveway, tires crunching on the pavement, and your heart skips.

It couldn't be anyone else.

About a minute later, there's the sound of keys turning in the lock. The door swings open and then shuts behind him. Softly. He knows Abby would wake up if he slammed it. Then there's the thump of him setting down his stuff— carelessly.

The couch cushions squeak a little when Mike sits down next to you. Silently. He's gotten rid of that stupid security vest.

"Hey," you offer.

"Hi," he obliges.

You're sure he's not really paying attention to the T.V. "How was work?"

It's bland small talk at best, and brutally annoying at worst. But it's the only way to move into interesting conversation territory. And he didn't just trudge past you to go flop down on his bed, so you're assuming he does want to talk. You might pretend not to know, but you're well aware of his social life— or lack thereof. Everyone needs to talk, sometimes.

"Pretty dull." Rolling his probably stiff shoulders, he lets out a small sound of discomfort. Sheepishly, he murmurs: "I kind of … I kind of just napped, to be honest."

"Aren't you supposed to be a security guard?" You tease. "That's a really important job, you know. You have to stop all the dangerous teenagers from breaking in and spray-painting dicks on the walls."

He huffs out something reminiscent of a laugh. "Honestly, the pay's too low to take it seriously."

"And yet … "

"There weren't any kids, okay?" Mike shakes his head. When you turn to look at him, though, he's smiling. It's faint, but it's there. "No dangerous teenagers that I had to fight off. It was fine."

"Fine?"

"Fine."

You don't want to let the silence set in.

"Oh, yeah, we finished the leftover spaghetti earlier. For dinner. I hope that's okay."

"No, it's terrible," he deadpans. "I hate you."

"Asshole."

"Whatever." Mike snickers, and you bask in its gloriousness. "Yeah, it's okay. I know that I probably wouldn't have eaten it anyway. Did you, uh … " He pauses for a split second. "… Did you like it?"

His tone makes you wonder, but you hastily brush it off. "Yeah, I did," you clarify, "the sauce was pretty great. Was it store-bought, or?" Because if it was, then where can I get it?

"Yup," he replies, popping the 'p'. "Great stuff, for something that's canned. But I always add a little more garlic powder, too."

"Oh, really?"

Mike hums an affirmation. "It's like magic, I'm telling you. Doesn't even take a lot to add flavor."

"That's cool." You rustle with your blanket again, adjusting it more out of habit than anything else. That, and it's kind of cold. "I'll try and remember it for later."

He's almost cheeky when he speaks.

"It's life-changing."

You can't help but snort. "You sound like an addict."

Incredulously, he glances at you. "To what? Garlic powder?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"I can't believe that you'd say that." He slowly shakes his head, for the second time in the span of roughly a minute. "Especially as someone who's experienced it firsthand—"

"—you're the one talking about how life-changing it is—"

"—you can't possibly ignore the irresistible savoriness of garlic powder."

You look at one another for a moment. The sheer absurdity of the situation sets in all at once. And, well. He starts giggling, and you can't hold it in, either. How could you? Even though he looks at least part zombie, his eyes are still very much alive. Despite the blatant awkwardness and lingering shyness that always follows him around, he's still got a very contagious laugh.

After you both calm down, he lets out a long sigh.

"It's getting really late."

You cling to what little stubbornness remains. "Yeah?"

"Are you gonna head home?"

Again, there's something there. Despite his nonchalant attitude, it's almost like—

—but you're probably overthinking. Wouldn't be anything new. He has to get some rest, and so do you. The drowsiness repeatedly threatening to tug your eyelids closed is a testament to that. Normally, you'd just pass out on the couch or something, and take off early in the morning; before Mike and Abby wake up. But now, it's different. Now, you actually have to make a choice before your sleepy body makes it for you.

"Um." You rub your eyes again. "I mean. I could, if it's bothering you—"

"It's not."

He interrupts you so quickly that it catches you off-guard. It seemingly catches him off-guard, too, judging by the way he promptly averts his gaze and pretends to care about the guy on the television going on about some sort of plumber strike in the city.

"Oh." You need a second to process. "Oh, okay. Well, in that case … I don't really think that it'd be safe for me to drive right now." You laugh, a little too airily for it to be completely genuine. "I'd probably fall asleep at the wheel or something." At least that's the truth. "I'll just take the couch. As usual."

"Okay," he says. He's back to murmuring.

"And I'll be gone before you eat breakfast." Subconsciously, you're fiddling with the slightly frayed edges of the blanket. It's well-loved. "As usual."

You think you hear him suck in a breath, seconds before:

"Why don't you stay?"

Your own breath stutters in your chest.

"... what?" Is all you can manage, without horrifically humiliating yourself.

"I mean," he rushes to correct himself, "you come by sometimes because you want to spend time with Abby— she likes you a lot, you know, sometimes I think she likes you more than she likes me . I think—" He's properly nervous now, his knee bouncing up and down. But he's already continuing before you can get a word in. "I think she'd like you to be here in the morning. And you don't accept pay, anyway. You just— won't."

His nervousness is spreading to you. "Hey, I—"

"Why are you here, anyway?"

The question sounds like it's been a long time coming. He's demanding you now, brow furrowed and eyes sparking with emotion. "Is it out of pity? Do you feel sorry for me? Do you feel sorry for Abby? Because if you do, then— then you can just—"

"It's not!" You exclaim.

Immediately, you realize that there's a sleeping girl not too far away, and shamefully lower your voice.

"... It's not, I promise. I just—" It takes a little while for you to gather the right words, and when you do, you don't drop your gaze from him. All of his previous frustration is all but gone, replaced by a slightly wide-eyed expression that's making your heart ache a little. "I genuinely really like spending time with Abby, okay? She's really sweet, and creative, and just a really great kid. And I—"

You stop yourself.

"And you what?" Mike asks, gently.

Might as well, huh?

"And I really like spending time with you, too," you admit, finally unable to meet his eyes and focusing on your lap instead.

There's an incredibly tense beat, in which you swear your life flashes before your eyes.

Then:

He's barely audible when he speaks. His knee has stopped bouncing, but he's playing with his thumbs. Clearly, your confession— vague as it was— resonated with him, in some way. You hope he understands what you meant, because you couldn't possibly put it all into words in a way that would make sense.

"Feeling's mutual," he mutters.

Your head almost snaps up at that. Maybe you had expected it, deep down— you're not oblivious, duh— but it's one thing to have a hunch, and another to have that hunch proven. And out loud, no less.

"Yeah?" You dare to ask.

Slowly, he looks up. He meets your eyes.

"Yeah," he repeats breathlessly, like the wind's been knocked out of him.

You let your blanket fall from your shoulders, and it slides all the way onto the floor.

You reach out.

He lets you lace your fingers through his.

Mike's palm is sort of clammy— and he's shaking a little— but he still squeezes your hand. On instinct, you guess. It still makes you smile. He doesn't return it, but his lips are parted a little, and you really, really like that. More than you probably should. You like a lot of things about him more than you probably should.

You scooch a little closer, and he doesn't move away. You let your gaze drop back down to his lips again, making your intentions clear. Still, you don't know if it's clear enough. You lean in, just barely.

"... Can I?"

His reply is almost instantaneous.

"Please."

You swallow all of the witty quips you could make, and kiss him instead.

He's very tentative at first. Like he hasn't done this for a while. But you ease him into it— and before long, he's got one hand on the back of your neck, the other somewhere near your waist. He tastes like coffee and something else you can't really put your finger on. It doesn't really matter, though. Because you are kissing him, damnit!

His eyes are still shut when you part— with a soft smack — but they flutter open after a second. You're not sure if you're supposed to say something meaningful. Luckily, he leans in instead, and your thoughts are immediately transported elsewhere.

You kiss like this for a while. It's really nice, and you know he needs it. So do you.

However— when you start losing track of time, lost in the moment, he makes a noise.

It's quiet, definitely. But it's nothing like the little hums and sighs he's been making so far. It makes you shift closer, pressing more insistently into him. And he responds, enthusiastically wrapping his arms around you, closing the little distance between your bodies that there was. You can practically feel his heart jackrabbiting in his chest when you slip your tongue past his already kiss-swollen lips.

He moans.

You indulge yourself. For a little longer. And Mike chases you when you part.

"We shouldn't do this in the living room," you whisper, nearly panting. "The couch is a little—"

"Okay," he whispers back, already sounding wrecked. "Okay."

You've been in his room before. You've sat on his bed— you've even laid on it before. But you've never straddled him on it before. It's a position that makes your head spin a little, and you occupy yourself with kissing him again. His hands fit perfectly on your hips, but they don't stay there for long, tragically— they trail upwards, up your waist, to your back. To your shoulders, and then back down again. It's as if he just can't get enough. You can't either. You need more.

So, you tug at his shirt. He gets the message right away— hands scrambling to pull it up and over his head. He's still rather slim, but with a slight softness, mostly located in his midsection. There's a light dusting of dark hair on his chest, as well as the provocative happy trail leading down from his navel. You drag your eyes downward, admiring him, and then decide that you're wearing too much clothing. Your top comes off, dropped onto the floor near his.

Mike takes more time to admire you when your torso is completely bare. His hands are warm on your bare skin, and slightly rough. Like before, he's hesitant at first, but when you encourage him— either literally or with physical indications— he grows bolder. His stubble scratches gently against you when his lips find your collarbone.

You squirm a little, not even realizing it— and you feel him. Simultaneously, you both gasp. He's not fully there, but he's at least half-hard— and it can't be comfortable in those jeans.

"Should I—"

"Yeah—"

With steady fingers, you unbutton his fly, and then unzip him. It's a little awkward when he shimmies out of the jeans, and when you wriggle out of your bottoms— you both snicker a little, but he's back to comfortably breathless when you settle back onto his lap. Under normal circumstances, you would tease him again. And yet, you can't bring yourself to. Not right now, at least.

All you want to do is keep going.

You roll your hips, testing the waters. His breath audibly hitches, and his hands fly up to settle back on your hips. He looks up at you, eyes already half-lidded— and they close when you grind down again. And again. His lips are clumsier this time when you kiss him, but he still reciprocates all the same. The sensation of him directly underneath you like this is intoxicating. You can feel every little twitch and every little jolt.

"Fuck," he breathes, long and drawn-out, " God, I can— I can see the spot on your—"

"Yeah?" You encourage, grinding down again, drinking in his answering groan. "You like that?"

"Yes —"

"You want me to take 'em off?"

Mike's pupils are blown wide, even though his eyes are already dark as is in the dimness of the room. He nods, once, then twice. "Yes," he murmurs. "Please," he adds, for good measure.

He stares openly when you get off him, just enough to peel off your last remaining layer of clothing. And when you sit back down, well. It's obvious that you'll have to give him a second. "Can I," he says, finally, "can I touch you?" The way he's looking up at you again is just so sweet, so needy, that you consider saying no. Your throbbing core quickly shuts that idea down.

"Go on," you encourage.

He helps you move so he has easier access, and—

His fingertips find your slit, already wet for him.

"Look what you did to me," you murmur.

He visibly flushes— and then carefully works one finger into your slick heat. The feeling, combined with his thumb brushing against your clit— it's relief that you've needed this entire time, and you can't help but let a quiet sound escape your lips. It's apparently enough incentive for him to quicken his pace a little. Deliberately, he continues massaging your sensitive nub in a firm but easy pattern as he gently pushes a second finger inside you.

Mike may be out of practice, but evidently, he still knows what he's doing. He peppers kisses up and down your neck, some more open-mouthed than others. Crooking his fingers, he maintains his diligent rhythm. A thought floats through your mind, unbidden— he must have strong hands, if he's been able to keep up like this—

Two becomes three, and you're spreading your thighs a little wider for him. He's still transfixed, but speeds up at your urging, breath hot against the divot between your neck and shoulder. You chance a glance down, and you can see the visible outline of him through his boxers. You did that to him. He's desperate— for you.

"Mike," you gasp, "nnh—"

"Yeah, c'mon," he mouths, against your neck, "c'mon—" He's not letting up in the slightest, and when you tell him to, he speeds up again. He needs to see you cum just as much as you need to feel it. Your needs and wants are rapidly blending into one. You squeeze your eyes shut, but open them to look at him. His dark curls are a mess, his hand working tirelessly between your legs.

"Mike —"

He says your name in return, like he's the one in the vulnerable position.

"Mike , 'm gonna— 'm gonna—"

"Please," his breaths are ragged, debauched, "cum, please, c'mon, lemme see it—"

"Oh —"

The tension snaps, and you spasm around his fingers. Your hips twitch, and you moan, your mouth falling open as you ride out your orgasm. You're rising— falling — molten honey pooling in your core, before flowing throughout your body. And Mike keeps going throughout it all, letting you enjoy the sensations until you're fully satisfied.

Nearly boneless, you sag backward. His fingers, soaked with your glistening release, slip out of your cunt with a wet noise. He doesn't waste any time in bringing them up into his mouth, cleaning them off with his tongue— at the taste of you, he groans, even though it's muffled. Your mind takes a moment to catch up again with the world, but another thought manifests itself— how would he react, if you let him use his mouth on you? How would his head look between your thighs? He would be noisy, wouldn't he? Enthusiastic, pliant, and—

Your desire, although it waned for a short minute, comes back tenfold. But you take one look down again and— you can do that later. Right now, you want him inside you.

Mike lets you tug him down for another kiss. He lets you feel the worn fabric on his thighs, almost playfully. When you palm him through them— he hisses through his teeth, hypersensitive even though you've barely touched him yet. You're going to fix that, though. Hooking your thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, you tug them down.

You were right. He's desperate. As soon as his overheated skin meets the cool air, he lets out another quiet hiss. And when you take him in hand—

"Mmh —" A firm stroke from base to tip, and you've already got him. He's average in length, but a little girthy. You know he'll be perfect. There's a little drop at the head of his cock, and you resist the urge to lick it off, focusing instead on warming him up a little. He whispers your name, once, when you pump up and down, twisting your wrist.

"Got a condom?" You ask, stilling for a second. His eyes snap to you.

"Oh my God, " he quickly mutters under his breath, before raising his volume, "uh, yeah, I think so. Lemme—" And he's already scrambling off the bed, opening the drawers of his nightstand with speed, but somehow simultaneously managing not to make much noise. He rifles through them, but soon emerges victoriously with what he was looking for. It's a little funny, how he doesn't waste any time in ripping it open and tossing the garbage into the mostly-overfull pail near his bed. Hastily, he rolls on the condom. You think he's expecting you to lay back or get up on your hands and knees so he can fuck you like that— you wouldn't be entirely opposed to it— but that's not what you want right now.

You place your hands on his chest and push him back down so he's sitting against the headboard. He goes without complaint, even shifting when he understands what you want to do. He's flushed almost down to his neck.

When you sink down on him in a smooth slide, still slick from earlier, you both moan. He sounds strained— he's biting his lower lip, squirming until he finally bottoms out. You have to take a moment to catch your breath, too; the fullness is just how you imagined, but it's so, so much, especially because of your lingering sensitivity.

"I'm not—" He audibly swallows, hands tightening on your waist when you move just a little, "oh, fuck, I'm not gonna— I'm not gonna last long." He's babbling a little. "You're tight, fuck."

You rock back and forth, once, and it's enough to force a choked noise from his throat. You watch his face, observing every little twitch, the clenching of his jaw. You can't hesitate for much longer, though— so you begin lifting yourself and dropping yourself down on his cock. Just in little movements at first, so you can get used to the feeling. His eyes squeeze shut—

"Look at me," you demand, and he does. He doesn't try and thrust up into you when you really start to move. Up and down, up and down, with lewd plaps that accompany your sounds; his grunts— you swear you hear him whimper . His eyelashes flutter open and closed, as he struggles to follow your command, wanting to be good. For you. Even though you can see his thighs flexing as he holds everything back. You ride him for all you're worth.

True to his words, you can tell when he gets close. Maybe he's been on edge this entire time. You thread your fingers through his hair— he buries his face into the crook of your neck, maybe out of embarrassment. You can feel how flushed he is, a thin sheen of sweat covering both of your bodies. Your muscles are aching, but you're determined to make him cum. You're determined to do this for him.

He says your name, but it's more of a whine. "Please — I'm gonna— I can't — "

"Go on," you pant, "you can. Don't hold back." Your arms are wrapped around his neck, now, holding him tight; just like his arms around your waist. The contact is almost too much, but somehow it's still not enough, despite him being inside you. "Go on," you repeat, after he whines again, the sound sending white-hot heat straight to your core. "Cum."

Mike twitches, and you can feel him pulse— the sound he lets out is high-pitched, muffled into your skin. You slow your movements— the aftershocks of his orgasm last longer than yours. It might've been a little while for you, but it had definitely been longer for him.

He doesn't let go, even after his breathing's slowed down.

Gently, you pull his head back so you can look at him. He looks up at you with slightly wet eyes. The kisses you press to his cheeks and forehead make him scrunch up his face.

"Hey," he rasps, "I gotta throw out the condom. Hang on."

"Yeah, okay."

When he slips out of you, you both sigh a little. With unsteady fingers, he ties up the condom before chucking it into the pail.

The sheets are cool on your skin when he pulls them over you both. The room reeks of sex, but both of you are too exhausted to care. When you turn to lay on your side, he's behind you, throwing an arm over your waist. Tugging you closer. Almost absentmindedly, there's a kiss pressed to the back of your head.

"Thank you," he mumbles.

You stare at the far wall, unable to close your eyes just yet.

"For what?"

"For—" A pause. "For everything, I guess."

The awkwardness is back. But you let it in. You smile.

"You're welcome."

He doesn't respond, but shuffles nearer, chest pressed up against your back. It's not long before you're both fast asleep.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt smut

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ozzgin · 22 days

Text

Yandere! Sea Monster x Reader

In the spirit of Mermay, I come to you with a slightly different approach: an octopus hybrid, dwelling in the dark depths of ancient waters. :) Hopefully close enough to the sea monster you imagined, @wally0117

Content: gender neutral reader, male yandere, monster romance, reader likes sharks (a lot); inspired by The Shape of Water and My Octopus Teacher; photo from Whalebone Magazine

He’s always been aware of humans, naturally. Observed them from the beginnings of time, from the very first rudimentary attempt of a boat that crossed his waters. Though he can only guess how these creatures exist, how they breathe, how they move. What arrives in his depths is always a corpse of some sort. Bloated, decaying carcasses, rarely intact, whether chipped by fish or by time. Everything else is left to his imagination.

Until today. The fish are restless, the currents are stronger. Something must be happening above, stringing him along curiously. His many legs sway in tandem, opening and closing, as he investigates the source of interest. His pale white eyes narrow to a mere squint, unused to the light of the surface levels. At last, he finds it: a human.

Yet this one is unusual. Intact - save for the bleeding wound - and unlike the washed-out, cadaveric blue tint he’s normally accustomed to. He notices a twitch of the limb and it dawns on him: this one is still alive.

You wake up with a violent cough, thrusting out the leftover liquid that had invaded your lungs earlier. You clearly remember drowning, so how did you end up on shore again? The answer reveals itself rather quickly: a monstrous creature, albeit humanoid for the most part. The upper half resembles a man, but the torso ends in thick, enormous tentacles, now flopped onto the sand, surrounding your body. You search for the creature’s face, framed by translucent tendrils that seem to replace what you’d expect as hair.

“Thank you”. He scans your features and remains silent. Does he even understand human speech? After a moment of consideration, he looks ahead, surveying the water, then returns to you, giving you a nudge. He most likely wants to know how you ended up in that situation to begin with. “That’s, well…”

Conveniently enough, the monster has brought you back to your little camp, so you reach for your backpack and pull out a book. Of course, no words can ever replace the image itself. With renewed enthusiasm, you open your encyclopedia and turn it towards the man, showing him a photo of a sand tiger shark, tapping on it excitedly. “I was looking for sharks!”

Ever since the bizarre, life-saving encounter, you’ve been returning to the same spot most days. And without exception, the monster will be waiting for you in one of the neighboring caves. Judging by the pellucid, pale skin and his reluctance to be in the light, you guessed early on that he might be a creature of the depths.

One that has been around for a long time, it seems. Once he understood your interest in sharks and other aquatic animals, he developed a liking to play guide for you, silently touring you through forests of kelp, hidden caves, labyrinths of reefs and hills. He knows where the animals linger, and they don't scurry away when you approach. You've never dreamed of being so close to them, staring into their eyes and tracing their fins as they swim past you, unbothered and relaxed. The monster will gaze at you from a distance, amused by your passion.

On ground, you’ve begun your own little experiment: can the octopus creature learn sign language? You didn’t need long to discover how intelligent he is, mimicking your gestures with flawless ease, instantly memorizing the meanings, the connections, the implications. He seems to be terribly delighted by this newfound tool of communication, often asking you questions with earnest curiosity.

Ah, yes, the questions. It makes sense that he’d want to know more about humans, though his interrogations are rather…particular. Specific. It’s less about humans as a whole, and more about you. How long have you been swimming here? How deep can you actually swim, with or without aid? Might you have a family waiting for you back home? A mate, perchance? No? Interesting.

"My vacation will end soon", you sign with pursed lips. He tilts his head. "Leaving?" his webbed hands gesture, somewhat uneasy. You nod. You can discern a glint of melancholy in his eyes. Eventually, he resumes: "Would you like to see my home?" Your eyebrows raise in surprise. His home? Down there? Was such a thing even achievable for a human like you?

The plump suckers attach themselves to your skin, one resting over your mouth. "Do you trust me?" You cast one final glance over the underwater abyss, a black hole trapping all light and matter. You shake your head in approval. Without hesitation, he plunges over the cliff, pulling you after him and into the yawning void of darkness. His form glows eerily, and his movement is swift and elegant. You can tell this is his land, his territory. You would've been dead a long time ago.

He releases you on the wet stone, inside the air pocket of a cave. You need a few moments to overcome the wave of claustrophobia pressing against your lungs. As you catch your breath, you recall your long path from the surface. It would be impossible to make it back out again without your friend. A cold shiver runs across your spine. "Have a break, and I'll show you everything else afterwards", he gestures with a smile. "How long will it take? I don't want to walk back at night", you explain.

Silence. You stare into his empty orbs, awaiting a reaction. There's not a sound, not a gust of wind, not a shred of light. "You're not going back", he finally answers.

You see, he's done a fair amount of research himself. He doesn't need an encyclopedia to figure you out: how you breathe, how you move, how you exist. In fact, he is rather confident in his ways of helping you adapt to a life spent together. He would've never brought you down here if he wasn't certain of your survival. His grin widens in anticipation, a strange warmth enveloping his innards at the mere thought of it: a future with you in it, right here. However, one question remains, a cheeky, perverted detail that has been on his mind from the moment he met you, yet he could never investigate it properly.

How do humans mate?

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