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#they’re my little time capsules
bobby-rising · 1 year
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Ahhhhh I liked my aliemn dragon design and didn’t want it to go to waste so I found a kool g1 to alienify….. eventually
Now it has a slightly translucent body and it’s filled with venom thus capsule gene. The cool thing about making weird dragon ocs is completely ignoring the actual dragon design and just gettin silly with it
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my favorite part of watching older anime series is when you get to the episode where they finally update the aspect ratio to fit more modern wide screens because it makes me feel like i travelled back in time because i see it and go :0!!! holy shit!!! look at how big that screen is!! despite most things i watch already having a modern widescreen aspect ratio
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hopelesscalico · 2 months
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Spacehey.... I wanna use it more but like. Despite all the users it feels SO barren and the forum/community aspect just feels like it doesn't exist. I have an account on there but god at that point I might as well just use a WYSIWYG website builder and post into the void.
I joined a couple groups but no one does anything in themmm at least old forums had ACTION
THIS IS MY BIGGEST ISSUE WITH SPACEHEY ToT i used it religiously for a period of a few months but there just reeeeeeally isn’t enough of an active userbase on there to make it feel like people are engaging with anything you post … it might just be me having grown up on algorithmic forms of social media but man how am i even supposed to find people to talk to on there??? you can’t really get anyone but your friends to engage with anything u post unless u get like a smash hit blog post but even then the blog page is soooooo crazy and unmoderated… idk idk
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alithographica · 11 months
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As promised, welcome to
Fun biology in TOTK’s designs
I'll keep this post updated as I go through the game. I'm going to skip the more general identifiable things like apples (they're based on apples!) because there are tons of more unusual species to talk about.
Overall, the really interesting thing I've noticed is that many of the more unique Earth-based lifeforms in TOTK are super ancient, like predating dinosaurs ancient, which is a really cool tie-in to the overall time-hopping plotline of TOTK. Specifically, they're found in the new areas (caves, depths) while the surface remains a bit more normal.
(There will be no plot spoilers in this post, and also I've barely gotten into the plot because I'm spending all my time wandering, so shhh no spoilers in the tags for like a month please.)
Most recent additions: More lilies, irises, wild ginger, spiny bones, pigeon extravaganza, plus added some more real photo comparisons to old stuff.
PLANTS
Bryophytes my beloved. Bryophytes are among the earliest land plants, waaaay predating flowers and even seeds. In our world, they’re small by necessity—they lack vascular systems to help move water around like other plants, so they have to stay small and moist (hence their frequency in caves in TOTK—though they do need some light in real life.)
In TOTK they’re quite large and I think that’s very sexy and art directors should give us big bryophytes more often
Anyway, there are three types of bryophytes: mosses, liverworts, and hornworts. First image pair is a moss, second is a liverwort. Those red-brown and palm-tree-like structures, respectively, are their reproductive structures.
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Real liverwort photo © Graham Calow, NatureSpotUK
Not yet spotted: Hornworts! Did they forget the third bryophyte sister :(
I think these next guys are probably lycopods (specifically club moss, which is not a true bryophyte moss, thanks science.) Very old, but vascular, so they're a bit more evolutionarily recent than bryophytes.
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Real photo © Gloria Hanley Schoenholtz, virginiawildflowers
All the enormous curly-topped trees in the depths: Ferns! They curl like that until they unfurl. Another very old plant, though younger than bryophytes and lycopods.
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Real photo via The Cosmonaut, Wikipedia
Brightblooms and some of the other giant plants in the depths: Possibly based on a cycad? Again, a very ancient plant lineage. At this point, evolutionarily, they've developed seeds—that giant cone in the center is called a strobilus, and that's the seed structure.
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These next few plants are angiosperms, meaning they produce flowers. Angiosperms are a more recent evolutionary lineage—still many millions of years old, but it took a while to develop flowers as a reproductive tactic.
Sundelions (left) are a fun recolor of a lily. There are also some scenery lilies (right) in various places—there are yellow ones that spring up when you turn on a lightroot (which gives them literal and thematic connection to the surface) and several other varieties, including tiger lilies, throughout Hyrule. Fun note, the sundelions appear to only have 5 stamen, while other lilies in the game (correctly) have 6. Seems to be an intentional decision to make it a more distinct fantasy species.
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These next ones are Peruvian lilies/Alstroemeria, just used as a scenery plant but a very fun inclusion. Fun fact, not true lilies, so they're not deadly to cats like true lilies are.
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Real photo © Dick Culbert, Wikipedia
Plum trees: These are also called out as plum trees in game! There's a journal in Kakariko that refers to the plum orchards.
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Okay I'm a little proud of figuring this one out. Bomb flowers blend a few botanical references. Superficially, the fruit resembles a type of seed pod called a capsule—specifically it's very similar to a poppy capsule. The little red thing in the center is a nice addition to resemble both a flower stigma (reproductive part that leads to the ovary) and a bomb fuse. Now, poppy capsules disperse their seeds via wind, but there are other plants who do explode their seeds outwards as a dispersal tactic! This is called explosive dehiscence.
There is one tree in particular called the sandbox tree, AKA monkey-no-climb or dynamite tree (yes, really.) Their capsules look more like little pumpkins, but are known for violently exploding when ripe—they can launch seeds at 150 miles per hour (250 km/h) and spread them roughly 200 feet (60 m) away. The photo comparison is a poppy capsule but you should def go look up dynamite tree videos.
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Real photo © PommeGrenade, pixabay
Fire fruits (and the other elemental fruits) grow on the same generic plant that looks kind of like it has grape leaves. Fire fruits resemble a specific botanical thing too though—the black netting is a papery calyx (part of the flower) seen in a nightshade genus, Physalis (golden berries, tomatillos, etc.)
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Real photo © Helene Rogers, Alamy
I think this stuff is an Asarum, AKA wild ginger. I was actually puzzling over it until I walked past some today and went HEY
Not sure of the exact species but they're very green and heart-shaped and love being dense and low to the ground.
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Real photo via David Stang, Wikipedia
Irises: Love irises, one of my favorite flowers and words, very happy to see them in game.
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MISCELLANEA
Cup lichen! Lichen is not a plant, but a symbiotic structure of an algae + a fungi. Cup lichen is just a type of lichen formation that has a kind of vertical cup-like structure.
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Real photo via Bernard Spragg
Geology crossover! Go look carefully at some of the whiter walls in the depths—they look like they have fossils of coral and other undersea hard-structured animals in them.
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ANIMALS
Sticky lizards: Based on Diplocaulus, a very early (now extinct) amphibian! Their skulls are wacky. We're not sure whether the long sides stood out separately or were smoothly connected to the body by skin flaps, but the separate arrow-like shape is the most popular rendition.
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Deep firefly: Might be a stretch because it could just be a multi-winged fantasy critter, but I think the "wings" and antennae are very reminiscent of Anomalocaris, an ancient aquatic arthropod.
Update: Other folks in the notes/tags have pointed out that they're probably based on a cryptid that's especially popular in Japan: skyfish AKA rods! They show up in photos and people think they're an alien lifeform. In reality, they're an optical blur created when a lower quality video captures intermittent flaps of an insect's wings, leaving sort of a many-winged smear in the photo. Thanks to all who left info!
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Little frox: Another stretch because it totally could just be a Hinox-like frog, but every time I see the little ones I can't help but think of like...Ichthyostega, Mastodonsaurus, Eryops, and other early amphibians. They were pretty hefty—little frox size or bigger—and had with little waddling legs. This is less "I think it's definitely this" and more "it makes me happy when I picture frox as primitive amphibians."
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I haven't detailed many of the scenery animals around Hyrule because most are identifiable with the camera function—it'll tell you that a certain animal is a heron or porgy, for example, and those groups are real, even though the exact species is made up. But I think the pigeons are fun because they're all crested pigeons. Pink-necked green pigeons may have also been the inspiration for the color palettes on the wood and rainbow pigeons.
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Both pigeon photos via JJ Harrison, Wikipedia
Spiny bones: Not a specific critter, but those spiny bones that you can find lying around Eldin Canyon are vertebrae—possibly from the same thing that left those big rib cages around? The top spike is the spinous process where muscles attach, the littler spikes on the side are the transverse and articular processes. The dark O in the center is the spinal cord.
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Also I made a friend who finally recognizes my purpose in Hyrule.
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That's all I've got for now! Will add more as I keep playing.
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starsexplodeatnight · 3 months
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Cod Guys x Reader!
~First time you’re intimate~
Minors do not engage! You are not fucking wanted here! Go be a kid while you still can! You’ll have 30 chasing at your heels before you know it.
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I always start with Price:
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3 months into your relationship
M’fucker puts on divorced dad rock. Because he’s not had a lot of time for romance in the past- er decade or so- shut up. He’s a bit… rusty? No, his moves are solid. He’s just a bit of a time capsule from when he was in his twenties and Mr smooth.
What do you mean ‘Hinders’ Lips of an Angel is ‘divorced dad rock’ what the hell’s that mean?
He’ll have planned this sweet, romantic, night for the both of you. He made dinner, look at him: he’s a provider. You try not to laugh but, it’s cute how he’s trying and in a way? He’s succeeding.
Just because you’re onto his tricks doesn’t mean they’re not working.
Then, he puts on his ‘mood music’ he used to put on in the past when he was romancing the ~ladies~ and oh- your lips purse in your best attempt at not giggling. He’s being so cute and you don’t want to pop his bubble.
He sees it though, as he hands you a glass of wine. “Somethin’ wrong bird?” His confidence is there, a little smirk. He wants to know what’s so funny. You shake your head, eyes cast to the side, as you take a sip of wine.
“Mmmmm- nothing, nothing.” He chuckles and sits down next to you, still acting so smooth. “Come on, out with it luv.” And he leans in close.
He’s so handsome…
Then ‘Let her cry’ by Hootie and the Blowfish comes on and you nearly shoot wine out your nose, turning away from him, choking as you try not to laugh.
He, surprised, helps you calm down, patting your back to help you as you cough. “What’s the matter with you? You makin’ fun of me luv?” He cooed, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You’re embarrassed with yourself. “Oh John… this is so sweet, very romantic.”
“But?” “You need to turn off the divorced dad rock sweet pea, I’m so sorry.” You say with an apologetic wince. “Divorce dad rock? I-“ He looks at his speakers, then back at you. “The bloody hell is that?”
“Nothing we need to discuss right now.” And you reach over, turning it off yourself. He shook his head, “s’long as you’re happy luv.” And he leans in, pressing his nose against yours as he gives you a sweet kiss. Simultaneously pushing you back to lay against the couch….
Next is Soap!:
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This dork is smooth, it’s not fair.
Rough housing after you two come home from a cute dinner date, he’s got you by the waist from behind. He’s giving your neck those dramatic kisses, that are so fucking ticklish. You two are so giggly and stupid and you! And neither of you are even drunk… just… happy.
Both of you pause, his chest against your back as you both try and breathe. Get air back in your lungs…. His face tucks in your neck, both of you staring off into space. Both thinking about the same thing but both waiting for the other to say something first.
It’s been about 1 month of dating and you’d both hadn’t done anything yet, just getting to know each other before anything sexual happened. And it’s been *fun.*
He starts the kisses on your neck again, a lot less dramatic and much more sensual. His arms still locked ‘round your waist.
“S’this okay?” You melt a bit into his arms. “Yes.”
He groans, breathing in deeply and gave your ass a deep strong hump that completely jolts you forward. That made your face so fucking hot.
He puts on ‘your body is a wonderland’ by John Mayer and unlike Price? It works. He’s just- it works! It’s cheesy but, unlike Price who’s trying to have a deep, romantic, moment and chose wrong. Soap is giggly, playful and cheeky during sex.
He’s only ‘serious’ when he’s not in a good headspace, like after a long grueling mission… the rest of the time?it’s so giggly and stupid.
Gaz my darling!:
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It’s a curated experience that makes you feel like a princess…. With an impending feeling of being the princess of a porn flick.
Because! As romantic, sweet and charming as he is: he’s still a cheeky fucking shit. Boyish charming and sexy aren’t supposed to mix! … right!?
When you two talk about taking the next step and having sex? He grins his pretty grin and bites his lip before kissing your cheek and darting off to ‘plan’
“Wear something pretty luv’” He called to tell you. The look on his face when you do show up dressed all pretty? You’d think you’d hung the stars in the sky…
Hands you flowers, said he got them from this sweet shop his Captain’s wife works at. They’re beautiful… so much thought and care…
That’s what happens the entire night. So much thought and care and effort has been put into this that it makes you teary eyed. He orders for you at the restaurant, orders something from the pastry case to take home and god-
You get back to your apartment and, it’s lit up with fairy lights. He doesn’t do the typical roses and candles, no. Fairy lights, diffuser with warm vanilla and champagne- yeah it’s time to be sweet on him. You’d think he was going to propose or something!!!
Partners give and take. He romanced the hell out of you and made you feel special? Your turn now. He’s going to take everything you give him, even if he’s trembling.
“Love you Kyle.” “Love you too lovie…”
Classical covers of pop songs in the back… it’s romantic and sweet not too giggly not too serious…
Ghost!:
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As much as much as Mr Big and Bad wants to pound your ass into the mattress and crack the wall with your headboard? He… he has issues lovie.
He takes the longest to have sex. Why? His trauma. One second he’s horny as hell rabbiting his hips into your butt then the other he does NOT feel like being touched. He feels bad, feels like he’s cheating you out of something but… how can he apologize for something out of his control?
You two have a talk about it because Simon, as much as he hates talking? He doesn’t want to lose a sweetie like you so he grunts out a few words to explain himself. You piece it together and well, what kind of partner would you be if you didn’t have his best interests at heart.
You understand. This man has trudged through hell over broken glass with no shoes. You can handle yourself in private moments until he’s worked through his problems. As long as he promises to work on them. No more dragging his feet in hesitation.
He needs to work on himself, the thought of being able to take that step with you? That helps. He doesn’t tell his therapist that even when the therapist asks him why he’s suddenly taking this seriously and booking appointments properly instead of going to just the mandatory monthly.
He waits until you’re having fun one night, he can hear the ‘bzzz’ of the toy and he creeps in the room. Lays on the bed on his belly between your legs and takes it away from you. Sets it aside. “This okay?”
Oh, it’s more than okay.
The kids in your preschool ask you why you’re limping. Oh look! Uh- we’re finger painting today!
Another one for inappropriate music choice except he doesn’t change it. He tries to nail you to the beat of ‘in the end’ by Linkin Park… he takes you up on your challenge and says yeah? I can change your mind!
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gay-dorito-dust · 13 days
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Hi!!, I wanted to request Damian Wayne reacting to finding out that the reader has an entire notebook dedicated just to his drawings, and also reacting to the reader being extremely embarrassed and shy when Damian discovers his secret.
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Damian didn’t know what to expect when he had opened your notebook there you’ve been so secretive about, but seeing page after page filled with draft drawings he’s made and discarded when they didn’t exactly go to plan.
It didn’t matter if if was be sketches of his pets, siblings, his father, Alfred or even some of your doing your own thing, they were all there regardless of any deeper reasoning.
It was got obvious that the deeper Damian went he was greeted with older and older drawings back when he was just starting to get good at drawing and what style he was or wasn’t comfortable with. It was almost as though the notebook was a testament to his development as a growing artist.
So as he sat on your bed, making his way through the notebook and found more and more drawings he thought he discarded ages ago. He was flattered to say the least but didn’t understand why you’d dedicate an entire notebook to him and his artwork. Damian was certain that you had your own reasons for doing so, but until then he would indulge the feelings of nostalgia build within him as he recognised his growth in each piece he’s ever made.
It wasn’t long before you came back into the room from a quick trip to the kitchen for a drink, your breath had caught in your throat upon seeing Damian with your notebook in hand, looking as though he was at an interesting plot point in a book.
‘Damian?’ You asked. ‘Why do you have my notebook? Where did you find it? Give it back.’
Damian shuts the book and sets it aside as he then looks you in the eye. ‘I should be asking you why you’re the one with an entire notebook dedicated to my drawings?hmmm?’ He threw back at you with a calmness that had you a little unnerved.
‘Drawings? Yours? Are you sure they’re not mi-‘
‘They’ve all got my signature at the bottom of the left hand corner.’ Damian interrupted you as you worry about his reaction. Did he think you were weird, a creep, a freak? You didn’t know as Damian had a great grasp at keeping his true feelings hidden.
You sighed, burrowing your burning face into your hands in embarrassment, not wanting to look him in the eyes as you admit your secret. ‘Fine. They are your drawings in that notebook but I only kept them because I really, really like your drawings and didn’t want them going to waste.’ You told him as you awaited for the worst, only to hear a bit a shuffling coming from him before a hand was placed on your shoulder.
‘I assumed that was the case.’ Damian said softly as he gently peeled your hands away from your face and held them. You blinked at him, not expect in this kind of reaction from Damian. ‘Your not creeped out? Embarrassed? Nothing?’ You asked meekly, still feeling a little embarrassed about the whole thing.
Damian sighs as a small smile tugs on his lips. ‘No, if anything it’s kind of…endearing come to think of it as it acts as a time capsule showcasing my development in skill, style and technique.’ He says before adding. ‘It’s an honour knowing that you admire my drawings so much to make a notebooks about them but I’ve got just one request.’
‘What is it?’ You replied, anxiety spiking back up once more.
‘Just ask me to draw something for your notebook rather than settle with half finished draft sketches.’ Damian said as he grabbed the notebook from behind him and found a blank page and dedicated the next hour or so sketching an utter masterpiece.
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novelbear · 1 year
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childhood friends to lovers (reuniting and reigniting) prompts
prompt list by @novelbear
 when they see each other for the first time and realize just how much they’ve missed one another 
 doing that twirling/spinning thing when they hug
 “wow, you look...great. amazing, actually.” 
 noticing that they still kept habits that they’d always endeared back then 
  thinking that it was always just a childhood crush, but once they reunite, it suddenly hits them that it definitely wasn’t.
 “you still wear that little bracelet i made you?” “it’s like my good luck charm..” 
 “i never thought i’d see you again...” 
  having their first date at a spot they’d always hang out at when they were younger 
 maybe they pick up on a project or work on a crazy idea they had when they were little (ex; writing a song together) 
 “there’s never been a day since i left that i haven’t thought about you..” 
 “i’ve liked you since the fourth grade...” “are you joking?!” “please, everyone knew but you.”
 digging up a time capsule they made years before
 ^ maybe they find a little love note that one wrote (thinking it would never be found) 
 being just as close as they were when they were little, but now everyone assumes they’re a couple
 “some things never change.” “yeah, i guess they don’t...” 
 “how does a date sound?” “like...a playdate or...?” “oh shut up you know what i mean.” 
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Life's Pleasures (S.R.)
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Summary: Spencer struggles with some side effects of his medication after prison. Request: Spencer being insecure about his weight gain post prison. Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader Category: Comfort Content Warning: Weight gain, body insecurity  Word Count: 800
MASTERLIST
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Spencer was a creature of habit more than he was of comfort. Call it superstition or autistic tendencies, even the slightest alteration to his routine could have catastrophic results.
Unsurprisingly, three months in prison did little to help him with those feelings. In fact, they made them much worse.
Despite the best efforts of yourself and the entire BAU, there was no question that Spencer needed help. Thanks very much to each of you, however, he had finally felt okay adding a small capsule to his daily routine.
It was nothing he was ashamed of. Unfortunately, however, that magical little concoction of neurotransmitters had a few… unintended side effects. He hadn’t said anything about it yet, but you had watched his favorite clothing got tighter until he couldn’t bear to wear it anymore.
You were acutely aware of how sensitive he would be with such a dramatic change. So, that Sunday, when you see Spencer padding out in his favorite pair of Saturday-specific sweats, you try to be kind.
“Hey handsome!” you call.
He is caught off guard enough to smile.
“What did I do to deserve you in sweats on a Sunday?”
His smile falls just as quickly. His bashfulness turns into a sadness that feels all-encompassing.
“My pants don’t fit,” he mutters as he toys with the drawstring.
“Lucky me,” you joke.
Spencer doesn’t respond like you’d hoped. In fact, he doesn’t react at all. He just stays staring at the string that is shorter than normal. He doesn’t even notice that you’re approaching him until your palms are pressed against his cheeks.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” you whisper.
He winces.
“I just…”
You give him a small reassuring smile and it stirs something in him. Some small shift out of his self-preservation instinct and back into the comfort of your embrace.
“I know I’m getting older, and stress does a lot of damage, and that can always manifest as weight gain,” he rambles.
He leaves out the medicated nature of it all, but you don’t bother to correct him. You just listen as he continues.
“But my body’s never been like this. It’s never changed like this, even during puberty,” he scoffs.
You chuckle at the sound and the image conjured up from faded scrapbook pictures.
Spencer smiles too—just for a second—before he remembers that he is sad.
“It’s just… it’s happening so… fast,” he says like a whimper.
After a moment, you shrug. He seems almost offended by the motion until you explain.
“That’s okay, Spencer,” you whisper, “It’s okay if you have a hard time adjusting to change.”
His shoulders fall as he releases a shaky breath. Relief starts to creep back into his body, despite his fingers still twiddling with the string.
You look down at it and laugh because it is so much like how he used to be. A little bit better, even.
“You just need to remind yourself that… They’re good changes,” you insist as your hands fall and glide around his waist. It’s soft and pliant and reminds you of the peace you find when you lay in bed together.  You remember the smile he wore the first day he woke up without fearing the sound of a buzzer. You think about how he doesn’t seem afraid of his phone anymore.
When you look back up at him, your eyes linger on the subtle curve of his lips before they settle on teary eyes.
“You’re finally taking care of yourself the way you deserve, so things are going to look different,” you whisper before pulling him closer. You sway with his body, still perfectly him despite not looking exactly the same.  “And for what it’s worth, I happen to think you look wonderful.”
Spencer drops the string to hold you, instead. He chuckles, a soft and bashful noise that reminds you of the first time you met.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he sighs in defeat.
To console him, you provide another simple offering.
“Sweatpants, donuts, coffee full of sugar and syrup,” you hum, “I don’t know about you, but… I can get used to a life like that.”
“They’re nice, but…” he trails off. His body pulls away so that he can see that loving look in your eyes. The last bit of tension releases from weary muscles. Spencer gently rests his palm against your cheek. It’s warm and soft and exactly like it used to be before the scars.
“Of all of life’s pleasures,” he wonders aloud, “I still think you’re my favorite.”
You quickly note the conditional word.
“You think?”
This time when he smiles, it is brilliant and not at all bashful.
“Donuts are pretty good,” he jokes.
It’s such a beautiful sound that you don’t even have to wonder.
“You’re better,” you mumble against still-sweet lips.
And it only gets better from there.
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(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)
Looking for more to read? Check out my wonderful friend @spencer-reids-adventures's take on this request here!
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Reid Taglist: @mrs-dr-reid , @dreatine , @hopefulfangirl24 , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward @wentz2005 , @lovejules888 , @dashneydanger , @materialisthicc , @violetspoetic , @mslowlife , @conniesanchor , @trippol-threat , @will-byers-needs-a-hug
Complete Taglist: @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @jayyeahthatsme
Thanks for reading!
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anewstartrekfan · 3 months
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Reading an old Star Trek book and to my surprise Jim Kirk has always had Daddy issues
So the only Star Trek book I’ve read was the one explaining how the tribbles episode was made and the aftermath, so trying to read Enterprise (1986) with some basic knowledge of trek post 2009 is fascinating. Cuz you see where the breadcrumbs of some of the characterization and even backstory come from.
In chapter 2, Sam Kirk and Kirk’s mom show up to Kirk’s ceremony where he takes command of the enterprise. They talk about George Kirk Sr. being in Starfleet, (he’s dead here too) something that I don’t think was in any of the episodes or movies. And how he was always distant and away. And they’re clearly going for some parallels/dramatic irony with the Wrath of Khan when it comes to Kirk not believing he could’ve developed a relationship with his father as an adult. And it plays into the tragic aspect I love about Kirk.
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Upon reflection he’s happy that Carol rejected him (he proposed to her in chapter 1) because he doesn’t want to leave anyone behind while on the job, only returning for sparse visits the way his father did. But at the same time, Jim craves companionship. And he can’t get it in his current job because as captain, it is not ethical for him to date anyone else on the Enterprise.
Anyway the long and short is if we take this book into account, Kirk has always had daddy issues. It’s just in TOS EU it was abandonment issues whereas in 2009 it was dad sacrificed himself so high expectations issues.
The little details like the mom’s name getting carried over into the aos movies are a good touch, but then seeing George Kirk being a Starfleet officer actually get incorporated into the 2009 movie as an important plot point, and then also using his absence in Kirk’s life but just in a different way as part of Kirk’s backstory is so cool to me.
A difference though is unlike fanfic tropes, Winona is actually a good mom and wants Jim to succeed in his career where his father failed in his Starfleet career. Unfortunately though Jim appears to be falling into the same pitfalls. As in lack of communication and unwillingness to play workplace politics.
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That last burn from Winona tho… like damn girl I felt that.
Another thing I want to backtrack to, Sam Kirk. Sam being the alleged chosen child, the one that was supposed to follow in George Kirk’s footsteps but didn’t, and then Jim strolled in and did even more than what Sam was supposed to do, and Sam and George never reconciled. Like dudes this book is almost 40 years old and this stuff was in strange new worlds last year. Tho xenobiology appears to have morphed into xenoanthropology (tho according to the fan wiki he’s still a biologist so idk what the deal is)
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For the record Sam’s characterization isn’t remotely the same here. Likely the choice to keep him out of Starfleet all together removed any sort of resentment of Jim potential like he has in SNW. There’s still tension though, as Sam tries to force Jim to confront why he’s reacting like this to his first mission for the enterprise being an escort job for a flying horse.
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Shifting gears back to Jim needing to learn how to play workplace politics. The assumed reason for Pike leaving the enterprise. While SNW is doing the whole, Pike knows he won’t fly the enterprise forever and about the disfigurement and is cool with it, I find if fascinating that he’s more, sad about it here and that he got promoted out of the way for pushing too many buttons. It would be a sad ending but I wonder if SNW would incorporate that into its eventual ending. Hell I wonder if that’s what happened to Kirk between TOS and TMP.
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Anyway big picture is this book is a fascinating time capsule and it’s fun seeing just how much has stuck around over the years both in fandom and in the franchise itself. Whether or not that’s the book’s doing is questionable but still. Fun to think about.
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faeriekit · 8 months
Text
Health and Hybrids (VIII)👽👻💚
[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and whatever prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]
PART ONE is here PART TWOis here PART THREEis here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and PART SEVEN is here and this is part 8 💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts
Where we last left off... Everybody got lunch! Not Danny, though. :) He was taking a nap. And Wonder Woman
Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my awful attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.
💚👻👽👻💚
Danny only doesn’t throw something because he already knew someone was on their way. The alien told him so. It’s not a surprise.
There’s someone new here. In his room. At the edge of his curtain. Too close to his bed. Danny doesn’t like it. He doesn’t hiss, because that’s Rude, but he does push his shadow to be bigger. Longer. Darker.
The human just waves. Waits. Holds something out in its hand. Danny doesn’t care. He can’t see it and he’s not going to go over there.
The human makes more words Danny can’t hear. Blech. He wonders what everyone knows here that he doesn’t. Is it French? Is it German? Jazz—
Thinking about Jazz makes his heart hurt.
Danny curls up further into the dark spots on his bed.
The human steps past Danny’s curtain. Danny does hiss, now, something long and low and halfway out of a human hearing range.
The human pauses. Its black haired-head tilts. It says—something else. Its tone is still gentle.
Danny doesn’t trust it. But it doesn’t get any closer, either. It only…holds out a hand.
There’s something in that hand.
It’s a trap, it has to be. But—
The alien said that they had friends in this tower. That the humans here are…safe. Danny doesn’t believe it. Danny is afraid to believe it.
But one of them gave him food.
…And the younger ones feed him all the time.
So maybe. Danny. Maybe he can. He flinches and he leans forward.
Danny can. He can’t see most things. But something aches in his skull where he is meant to see color and shape and familiarity, and something in his melted brain whispers wait, watch.
Danny’s back arches.
He waits. He watches.
…The object doesn’t do anything. The human simply sets it on Danny’s side table, and then it’s an object. A mostly white, somewhat red object. The other colors might be blue, or gray; they’re not distinct enough to be distinguishable in Danny’s mostly mush eyes. It’s oblong, and sort of round and—
Danny jerks upright. He snatches the item off of the table as quickly as he can, brings it as close to his eyes as he can— IT’S A ROCKET!!!! It is!!!! With fuel thrusters and everything!! If Danny had his whole brain he thinks that he could even recognize which one!!
He purrs, and he purrs, and he purrs, and he takes his pillow and he settles the hard plastic into his kind-of-damp (but mostly dry!) pillows and leans into it, happy to have this thing he likes and can recognize!!
Fine. Danny can like this human. When it comes back with little pills in a paper cup, it bravely gets closer, so Danny can see black hair pulled back, a tail swinging behind her, a tinge of red under a mostly-opaque white medical gown, and gold bracelets on her arms.
…Danny touches the bracelets to investigate before he can even be scared. They shiver with energy. Danny’s fragile form shivers back.
The human spends a lot of time with words Danny can’t hear on the paper cup, and she pulls out each little pill inside so that she can say more things, show him what it looks like, let him smell each capsule and tablet.
When the buzzing human comes back with a vibrato of joycurio/us!/joy in its wake, eager to see Danny as he is relieved to see it, Danny shows him the little paper cup.
The buzzing human trills with relief! Relief! Relief!
…That’s got to be safe enough, right? …Right?
Danny…
It’s been a while since he tried to dry-swallow medicine down his torn esophagus, but everyone’s immediate rush to find him water makes the swallow easier than Danny might have thought.
Some of the medicine is going to make him sleepy. Danny remembers enough about medicine to remember that. The thought of being vulnerable and not able to wake up is scary; but if Danny is going to get better, he’s going to have to trust that not every human wants to make sample slides out of his organs and jam needle-long electrodes into his brain, and he will have to fall asleep and not cry about it.
The cup of water the quickquickquick human gets him is so nice. His claws clink against the ceramic of the mug. Most of the liquid actually makes it into his mouth, and some of it even into his throat.
Danny lays down, pulls the rocket ship closer to his fragile form, and purrs. The fastquick human takes Danny’s hand so that he’s not alone.
At some point, his paper eyelids shut.
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soullumii · 1 year
Text
carnival lights | joel miller x f!reader
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pairing: joel miller x fem!reader
summary: you take joel to the yearly summer carnival.
warnings/tags: pure fluff, little bit of sexual humor, fake gun use! (water guns), carnival fun, no outbreak!joel, soft!joel, modern au, food, implied age gap (reader is in her 20s, joel is in his 40s), pet names (peach, darlin', sweetheart, baby), established relationship. (can be read as part of the stranded universe!), NO USE OF Y/N
word count: 3.5k
a/n: something cute while i work on stranded part 2. there's no plot, just vibes
taglist: @hecatombix @thatmemechick @sexygaypalpatine
“I can’t believe you dragged me out to this mess,” Joel grumbles. 
Warm summer air settles over the both of you as screams from excited kids and terrified people on rollercoasters echo around you in the night. Joel’s scowl is illuminated by flashing lights from various pop-up mirror mazes, haphazardly put together ferris wheels, and scandalously painted funhouses.
Seriously, though, why does the children’s funhouse have a mural of a Parisian can-can dancer plastered on the front of it, her fish-netted vagina visible from quite literally any angle within this carnival?
It’s so incredibly ridiculous, and you absolutely love it. You just love carnivals—always have. 
Even if they’re probably a safety hazard, even if the creepy clowns wandering about scared you a lot as a kid, and even if the sweet aroma of funnel cakes and fried Oreos and cotton candy mixes with the skunky smell of cheap weed. It brings back memories. And yeah, it might give you a headache after a few minutes, but it’s everything you adore, even if you’re in your late twenties now. 
“It’s fun, Joel. Have you ever heard of fun?” You tease, dragging him along the dirt path littered with cigarette butts and mystery liquids. You get a whiff of hot dog.
Joel must get it too, because his nose scrunches and he steps aside a dubious pile of something inscrutable. “My definition of fun ain’t exactly this.”
“Look! That looks fun!” You point excitedly toward a ride called “The Zipper” rising high in the sky, its metal capsules filled with adrenaline junkies swinging back and forth as the entire ride spins on an axis.
“Jesus Christ,” Joel swears under his breath.
“What? Don’t you want to ride it?” 
When you glance over at him, he’s looking particularly green, though you can’t exactly tell if that’s from the spinning cups next to you flashing green and white or if he’s truly feeling unwell.
“Are you okay?” You ask, sincerity coating your words as you turn to him. 
“I’m fine,” he shakes his head. “I just—you should’ve taken Ellie and Sarah with you. I’m not any fun at these kinds of things.”
“Joel…” you say, a teasing smile growing as your hand lands on his arm. “Are you scared?” 
He scowls, but hesitates in his answer, gaze darting away from you. “No.”
Liar. “Joel, it's okay if you’re scared,” you say. “We don’t have to ride any rides. I wanted to come with you just to spend time with you.”
His gaze softens and he sighs. “I know, peach. I wanna spend time with you, too. And for the record, I’m not scared, I’m just concerned about… my back.”
“Riiight,” you smirk. “Let’s go find something to do that won’t hurt your back then.”
You find a funnel cake stand charging $15 per cake. Joel grumbles about how ridiculous, and frankly, illegal it is that they’re charging so much for what is basically a scribble of fried dough as he pulls out his wallet.
“It's about the culture of it all, Joel,” you declare as you take a bite of doughy and powdered sugar goodness. “It’s just what carnival goers do. It’s only once a year, they can make the sacrifice.” You tear off a piece of it and give it to him. 
“I guess seein’ Sarah smile after eatin’ fried oreos was worth it," he relents as he takes the cake and plops it into his mouth, humming gratefully and yes! you’re starting to wear him down! 
“Exactly.”
After you both finish your funnel cake among a screaming swath of kids, you drag him toward the farm animals. This, he has to like. 
You enter into the tent, Joel’s hand tucked in yours, and the smell of manure and dirt immediately choke the both of you, the scent trapped in by the heat and the plastic material of the tarp. Joel somehow seems to look even worse than he did when you mentioned the Zipper.
“These poor animals,” he whispers, eyes wide as he takes in the fences sectioning off llamas and sheep and highland cattle. “They should be out wanderin’ in a field.”
“They do, Joel,” you insist, squeezing his hand. “It’s just for tonight. Come on, let’s go pet one.”
After a snot-nosed child stumbles away from the sheep pen, Joel makes his way over. He frowns down at them, reaching a hand in through the fence to pet them. The sheep inch forward, pressing their wet noses into his palm, and he strokes their soft wool lovingly. Your heart flutters at the sight.
And then you hear him whispering to them: “I’ll get you out of here.”
Before Joel can do something drastic, like wrench open the fence on pure strength alone (which you know he is absolutely capable of), you drag him out of the tent. Your spirits are extinguished, the night feeling more and more like a failure. You have to get him to have fun, somehow.
“Those poor animals,” he says again, shakes his head as you draw him toward the game booths.
“They’ll be okay, Joel,” you reassure gently, rubbing his shoulder blades. 
He just shakes his head again, and your heart fractures. You plaster on a smile and set him in front of a booth with two plastic water guns tethered to a ledge, at the far end of the booth are targets bobbing up and down, moving along a track.
“Let’s play this!” You say, handing the teenage booth manager a dollar bill. He chews his gum apathetically, and pulls the lever to start up the game. 
This piques Joel’s interest and he watches you grab the pistol-shaped water gun, aiming it at a target, your eye winking as you train your gaze on a target. 
“No, no, I can’t let you shoot like that,” he says, grabbing the pistol. He maneuvers your hands, “Left squeezes on the right, darlin’.” He then adjusts your arms and tries to grab the pistol from you, but it's sturdy in your new grasp, not going anywhere.
“There,” he says, proud, and grabs the other gun, pointing it at the first target. “Good luck, peach. You're gonna need it.”
“We’ll see about that,” you tease. You have no idea what you’re getting into.
“Start,” the booth manager monotonously drawls.
Before you can even pull the trigger, three of Joel’s targets are down, and he is cackling as he obliterates the others on his side. Your jaw drops, eyes widening.
Because, what the hell?
You scramble to catch up, pressing the trigger rapidly at your own targets, but only a few hits land. By the time the bored teenager calls ‘game’, Joel’s got his arms over his chest, watching you with a satisfied smile as you try in vain to shoot the last three targets on your side.
You turn to him in shock, but your bones feel light, your pulse beating rapidly because at least he’s finally having fun. And, admittedly, his skill is attractive.
“You should see your face right now,” he laughs.
“You won this,” the teenager drones, holding out a big fluffy teddy bear, half the size of Joel. 
“I’m keepin’ this,” Joel says, grabbing the bear and holding it close. He looks ridiculous, holding that giant teddy bear in his corded arms, peppered locks falling over his forehead. Ridiculously handsome. Ridiculously cute. You've got to keep this going.
“What? Seriously? You’re not going to give your girlfriend the bear you won?” You pout. He just smiles wider. 
“Darlin’, you’ve gotta earn this. Your shootin’ was pathetic.” He grabs another dollar from his wallet and hands it to the red-headed teen. “Another one, kid.”
Instead of grabbing his own pistol when the game starts up again, Joel comes in close around your back, warm chest pressing against your shoulder blades as his hands skim down your arms. He lays a chaste kiss on the side of your throat and your heart beats rapidly like a bird’s, warmth settling within you, a flush dusting your cheeks at his proximity. 
His broad palms land on yours, and he adjusts your hold again like he did last time. “This was good. Your aim, on the other hand…”
“I’ve never shot a fucking gun before, Joel,” you defend.
“This is a water gun, peach.” You grumble as he drags your arms up, sets them in a position that is honestly not very comfortable, but you can see how it might be easier for aiming. 
“Aim that ‘lil notch at the top of the gun in the middle of your target.” You follow his instruction dutifully. “Good, now shoot.”
It’s all in good fun, the gun light and cheap in your hand, but you treat it as if you truly are about to shoot a real gun, if only because your competitive nature likes to take over. You take a deep breath and let it out, then pull the trigger. The target goes down swiftly.
Joel pulls back, grinning down at you. “Nice job, peach.”
You preen at his praise.
“Alright, now hit the next one.” 
You do just that. He holds his hand up for a high five and you slam your palm onto his, laughing giddily. "I'm so fucking good at this!"
He hisses, shaking his stinging hand out, “Why do you always high five so hard?”
“The game’s almost done,” the teenager warns.
You turn and deflate at the sight of ten targets still standing, confidence leaving your body in one fell swoop. You have about twenty seconds to shoot the last targets, and you wilt, knowing that’s absolutely not going to happen. You gaze sadly at the stuffed whale hanging from the awning. 
Joel, noticing your disappointment, grabs his own pistol and fires off at his targets, each painted bullseye flinging back as the water hits it, the targets dropping one by one in quick succession. Even the moving ones he finds easily, spraying them with firm focus, eyebrows furrowed over his hard eyes. 
He finishes with five seconds to spare, and a smirk on his lips. He makes a show to pretend to blow smoke away from the water gun’s barrel, and you can't help but laugh. You never see him this goofy, and it makes your body tingle with happiness.
The booth manager rolls his eyes and gets the whale down, handing it to Joel. You give him the biggest puppy eyes you can manage, lips puckered in a pout, and you can see the moment it hits him right in the heart, his smile growing soft, the way he looks away from you, turning to try and hide it. But he can’t, and you tremble at the sight feeling so full, so warm. 
“Come on, Joel. I’m never going to be as good as you–which by the way, where the fuck did you learn to do that?” You say, grabbing the tail of the whale and tugging. 
"Growin' up on a farm, darlin'. Tommy was always wantin' to shoot the ducks."
"Ah, so you're a master at duck hunting, huh?"
He shrugs. "You could say that."
He tugs the whale away from your grasp, gesturing to the booth. "Alright, one more game. Come on baby, you can do it."
You groan, and he hands another dollar over. The kid looks even more bored. Maybe even annoyed at this point. You don't blame him. You grab the pistol, and get to shooting, not without spraying some water at Joel first. He doesn’t even flinch.
Five targets later (you never could get the full ten), you're whooping and hollering as the kid hands you a fluffy monkey plushie.
"There we go!" Joel praises. “Nice goin’ peach!”
You do a little happy dance, not caring if you look ridiculous, and Joel tucks you into his side, throwing another dollar bill at the apathetic teen.
“For your patience,” he says. You giggle loudly into your palm.
“I don’t get paid enough to be here,” the kid mumbles as Joel tugs you away and back through the carnival.
You look up at him, taking in his carefree expression, the content smile on his face, and the way the lights flash off his eyes, making them sparkle. His strong arm is wrapped around your waist, your cheek pressed into his shoulder.
“Finally having fun?”
He looks down at you, eyebrow quirking. “What’d’ya mean? I’ve been havin’ fun this whole time.”
You stop, pulling back to really look at him, blinking in disbelief. “What? But you’ve seemed so… upset. The rollercoasters, the funnel cake...the animals."
Joel’s smile slips, and a clear sincerity takes hold in his eyes. “Darlin’ none of that matters to me. Just bein’ with you is enough to make anythin’ fun.”
“Oh,” is all you can say, nerves thrumming, mind racing.
“I’m sorry I made you feel otherwise, I'm not very good with emotions," he says, threading his fingers with yours, and your heart stutters. You knew that. He’s always been a closed book, and even if he does decide to be more open, it can be hard to truly decipher how he feels. Though he’s always quick to assure you that you mean everything to him.
“I’ll ride a damn rollercoaster with you anytime if you really want me to.”
This is why you love him so damn much.
You beam, though it turns teasing, “Thanks, Joel, but I don’t want to hurt you.” You poke his lower back.
Joel chuckles. “My back is fine. I’m just scared.”
“Oh really? Finally admitting it, Miller?“
"You know I struggle with admitting my flaws, darlin'."
"Right, because you hardly have any."
"Exactly."
"Well, anyway, I have an idea."
"Do ya now?”
You drag him toward the giant ferris wheel stretching high into the sky, the neon lights climbing its spokes flashing excitedly, drawing the carnival goers in.
You settle in a seat with Joel next to you, though because of the long line, you're forced to be seated with another couple across the way. An older couple, with matching t-shirts and candy necklaces.
"Hey there!" The woman chirps. "What a lovely night, ain't it?"
Joel nods awkwardly, "Sure is."
"It's beautiful," you add.
It truly is, a gentle breeze stirs the warm air, driving away mosquitos and the Texan humidity. The navy sky is clear, only a few fluffy clouds sprinkled about. You’d spend the entire night out here if you could.
"I'm Sharon, my husband Burt and I have been comin' to this carnival for the past fifty years," she says, gesturing to the man in overalls beside her.
"That's amazing," you say honestly. "I’d like to have a tradition like that, too.”
You tell her your and Joel’s names, ignoring the latter’s pleading glance at you by smiling at Sharon and Burt and complimenting their matching shirts.
Burt's says: Nothing Sense We're and hers says: Makes When Apart.
You despise the shirts deeply, but you might as well be friendly to the people you'll be stuck with for the next fifteen minutes.
"Thanks darlin'! Are you two a couple?"
You take Joel's hand, "Yep! Finally reeled this slippery fish in."
"Jesus Christ," Joel grumbles under his breath. You try not to laugh.
"Older men, so evasive, am I right?" Sharon whispers, a hand coming up to shield her mouth from her husband, as if he can't hear her in this tiny space.
"I hear you, sister.”
Joel rubs his thumb and forefinger against his temple.
"Well, enjoy your ride," she beams. "Just beware, my hubby gets gassy when we get halfway up."
You choke on a shocked laugh, your palm slapping over your lips. You lean into Joel, eyes wide, who looks green once again.
"Oh my god," you hiss to him.
"Now look what you've done. We're 'bout to get chloroformed by farts."
You can’t hide your laugh this time, “Joel!"
The ferris wheel jerks, and Joel's hand tightens around yours as it begins to ascend. You notice the tick in his jaw, the way his gaze pointedly darts from the spokes of the wheel to the pole in the center of the seat and back.
"Are you scared of ferris wheels too?" You ask.
"No," he hisses. "I'm scared of state carnival ferris wheels. They set this piece of shit up in three days. How can you even trust it?"
"I just like to think about possible ways I'd survive it."
"Yeah, like what? Grabbing onto the pole and just hanging there 'til they get ya?"
"Exactly, see, it'll be fine."
"That's if the whole thing doesn't detach."
"I think it's more likely we'll die from suffocating by old man farts than this thing detaching."
That gets a laugh out of Joel, and his gaze finally finds the land stretching out beneath you as the ferris wheel rises. The moon hangs high above the clouds, bright and full, and stars dot the dark sky like jewels sewn on a blanket. The breeze ruffles his hair, and you wish to run your hands through it.
"This is nice," he says. "I'm glad I came out here with you."
"You didn't have much of a choice, but I'm glad you're enjoying it."
You hear the man across from you pass gas, and you hide a grimace.
Joel leans in to whisper in your ear, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin making you shiver. "This would be pretty romantic if it weren't for Mr. and Mrs. Clause over there."
"Watch it, you'll be approaching that age soon."
"I've got at least twenty years, peach. Maybe you'll be sick of me by then."
"Oh no," you shake your head, looking earnestly into his eyes. "I'll gratefully smell your farts 'til the end, Joel."
"You're messed up," he grimaces.
You just smile at him, and he grins back, his arm slung over the back of the seat, his thumb massaging your neck, and you melt into him, content to watch the world shrink as you near the top.
Eventually the ferris wheel comes to a stop at the top, and you gaze out across the dark world, head resting on Joel's shoulder. He pulls you in close.
"It's time for the kiss!" Sharon exclaims, grabbing Burt's fraying overalls and tugging him in to plant a kiss right on his lips. He melts right into her, and in mere seconds, you and Joel are witness to a geriatric couple making out.
"Ain't this somethin'," Joel says.
"Oh. My. God."
Sharon pulls back after a good thirty seconds, and turns to you and Joel. "Alright! Your turn!"
"Oh no, that's okay," you say, waving your hand. Joel is private in his affections, though his little show at the target booth earlier might say otherwise. Generally, he prefers keeping you to himself.
But tonight, he's full of surprises.
"C'mon, peach. Let's do it. Let’s give these kind folks a show, like they did for us."
"Yes! He gets it!" Sharon bounces excitedly. "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"
You've been wanting to kiss him all night, so you're really not against it. Though, it's still weird, and you give Joel a pained look.
"I'll give you the whale for this," he promises.
"And the bear," you argue.
"Fine. And the bear."
You grin, and then his hand is at the back of your neck, pulling you in, his nose brushing your cheek as he slots your lips together. He tastes like funnel cake and cotton candy and you honestly don't want this night to end.
Your eyes flutter shut as he adjusts you to deepen the kiss, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip. Your hands plant on his chest, nails digging into the fabric stretching over his firm pecs.
"Woo! Yeah! Kiss her hard! Kiss her really good.”
Your lip is still caught between his teeth when Joel slowly pulls away, eyes trained angrily on Sharon and Burt. He clears his throat as leans back in his seat, and you avoid eye contact with the very strange couple across from you. Joel's hand is hot on your exposed thigh, and now you really wish you weren't fifty feet in the air stuck with some very questionable folks.
Finally, five minutes later you touch the ground again.
"Y'all have fun now!" Sharon squeaks and steers Burt toward the cowboy-themed carousel.
"Have a good night you two," Joel says, faintly as they beeline away from you, almost like you were the weird ones.
He hands you the whale but holds the bear for you as you make your way back to Joel's pickup.
"Well, that was something," you say.
"I don't think I'll get that image out of my head. Or the smell," Joel's nose scrunches.
You stop, turning toward him. "I'm sorry about this. I thought it would be fun. We'd play games and share a romantic kiss on the ferris wheel and feed the animals-"
The words fade as Joel's palm settles on your cheek, his thumb running across your bottom lip, his other hand landing on your waist. "Darlin', we did all of that."
"Yeah, but it all sucked. I can't shoot for shit. And you don't like the animals being all cooped up, and then Sharon and Burt practically eating each other in front of us, then getting turned on by our kissing? You don't think I saw Burt's hard-on?"
His eyes widen in disgusted shock. "His what?"
Your eyes well up. "I’m sorry, Joel."
He shakes his head, pulling you into his chest. "Peach, I had a great time. I love doing whatever you love. I love you, okay? So next year, you can drag me out here again and we can be Sharon and Burt's spank bank material and I'll enjoy it just as much as I did today."
Your laugh is watery against his chest, and he tilts your chin up to softly press his lips against yours again, this time shielded from the hungry gaze of strange old people. He thumbs away your tears.
"By the way," he whispers against your lips. "I liked watchin' you fail at shootin'. It's cute."
You glare half-heartedly at him, pushing him off of you and rounding to the passenger side of the truck. "I always knew you were into humiliation."
"Maybe we should try it, just to know for sure," he smirks, leaning against the door frame, towering over you.
You look him up and down, eyeing the muscles of his forearms and the way his t-shirt stretches across his broad chest. Your voice comes out lower than you expect it to.
“Get in the damn truck, Miller."
"Yes ma'am."
311 notes · View notes
invertebrates · 1 year
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bug toys!
alright, here’s my mini-guide to getting into the world of Weirdly Articulated, almost entirely Japanese bug toys.
some caveats:
1) most of these toys aren’t great for kids. they have a lot of small lose-able, breakable, poke-able parts and can fall apart pretty easily. 2) i’m in the US, so i’m not quite sure how to acquire these things if ebay and Buyee don’t work for you 3) ‘bugs’ for the purpose of this guide (and entire blog tbh) is any invertebrate why would i want fake bugs when i can get real bugs? 1) fake bugs don’t die and can be neglected forever. they will never bite, sting, poop on you, or be stinky (unless you make them stinky) 2) fake bugs can be handled constantly, they will not get stressed out or pick up any germs from you 3) fake bugs can be much larger than real bugs, or be species that would be impossible or unethical to own or breed. they can even be fun made up creatures 4) fake bugs don’t require any kind of tank, substrate or food, and they will not breed uncontrollably (or at all) 5) they cannot escape and become an invasive species 6) buying them doesn’t support shady or unethical ‘breeders’ who just take bugs from the wild (not saying all bug breeders do this, but it’s definitely a problem with certain kinds of bugs)
this is not to discourage any responsible bug-culturing you might want to get into, but for me, as a pretty depressed person without a lot of space, these are all big plusses!
onto the fake bugs
ikimono encyclopedia
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unfortunately these photos will be some dark toys against dark backgrounds because i am a goth bastard and everything i own is black. sorry.
so, these being Japanese toys, I’m not entirely sure of the correct terms for them. these are pretty much just the search terms I’ve discovered over time that work to find them. as far as I can tell, Japan LOVES bugs and has a very enviable appreciation for them, they don’t seem to be considered nearly as gross or weird or bad as they are in the west.
these are a series gachapon or capsule toys. you can get all kinds of awesome little toys, which are often strangely detailed and often high quality, from vending machines in Japan.
here are some current listings from ebay to give you an idea of the variety and prices:
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they also have a lot of cool fish and reptiles in this series. prices can be a bit steep, but you’re usually buying the whole set of toys pictured, not just a one-off. they’re usually a few inches, pretty well painted and articulated, and come as individually wrapped kits you have to put together. i will say, sometimes it is hard to snap the legs into place, so if you have hand/joint issues you might need some help putting them together. usually, a lot of these toys might be the same model but repainted, and sometimes there’s duplicates. the two mantises in my photo are from a set of 6, and there were 3 sets of 2 identical boys, so I could display one with the wings out and another one folded. they’ll also sometimes come with a little piece of clear plastic and a stand you can pose them on top of.
just from the sheer variety they offer, and relative affordability, this would probably be my first recommendation for getting into bug toys. they have beetles, mantids, caterpillars, wasps, ispods, crabs... i’d love some myriapod sets but we’ll see!
i usually grab these guys off ebay. they’re also available on Buyee and there may be more, cheaper options over there, but I’ve noticed with the import/holding fees, buyee and ebay come out to be about the same most of the time. (for anyone confused, Buyee is an English import service that lets you buy stuff off Japanese sites and auctions, since a lot of Japanese sites only want to ship inside Japan)
these are also just the gachapon bug toys from one specific company. there’s OTHER companies making other sets of really good bugs but I’ve had so much luck with just this one term I haven’t branched out much yet.
Fujimi Living Thing Arc
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these are slightly bigger models made out of slightly harder plastic (well, the mantis is bigger; beetles are about the same as the ikimono guys) that are a bit more intricate to put together. they come with assembly instructions, but of course they’re in Japanese. you can pretty much follow along with the pictures though. the painting details aren’t quite as nice, but they have a bit more articulation. not as many choices with this set, though they do have a crawfish I wanna snag. they also have some goofy JP style monster dinos.
i bought these guys off hlj.com but it looks like they’re on ebay(and buyee as well I’m sure)
Revoltech RevoGeo
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you’ll probably recognize this name if you’re into transformers or other toy collecting. these guys are gonna be by far the most expensive ($90-$120+) but they are extremely large and high quality. this one is super articulated, the individual leg joints and mandibles move, wings move, about the only thing that isn’t articulated are the individual little tarsomeres/feet segments or the abdomen segments. not as much choice here either, I think they have a beetle, ants, crab and a scorpion plus this wasp. these also come mostly assembled, you can usually just snap the wings on or maybe swap out a few parts (iirc this gal’s stinger can be removed)
i got her off bigbadtoystore.com, though they may be available cheaper elsewhere. BBTS is infamously a bit pricier than other toy stores but they’ve always been very reliable and quick for me.
this BIG isopod
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this one won’t be as helpful. these may be part of the same series as the ikimono (they were just labeled bandai gachapon) but they are much larger, this guy’s like 5″, came fully assembled and is pretty articulated. they can even roll into a ball! all their little legs move! i’m pretty sure they’re meant to be one of the large deep sea isopods and man, a 1:1 revoltech model of one of those would be a dream.
completely fake bugs!
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had to share my little starship trooper warrior bug collection :^) the big one and the one directly under it are 90s kenner toys I believe, the bottom-right one is a funko, the red one is from a tabletop set, and the guy on the left is a figma model that is unfortunately ridiculously expensive nowadays.
one nice thing about fake real bugs: there is not a crazy collectors market for this so this stuff should stay pretty affordable. unless real normal bugs somehow become a huge pop sensation i think it’s just us weird nerds that are into them.
other search terms to try: bandai insect insect gachapon (or gashapon) nature gachapon
that way you may be able to track down listings for individual toys that should be a bit cheaper! here’s a sample what bandai insect got me on ebay:
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happy fake bug collecting!
you may noticed I haven’t mentioned one form of bug that has a lot of the same advantages as plastic bugs: dead pinned insects in shadowboxes. i do have some of these, but i am reluctant to support places selling them nowadays because few are ethically or responsibly sourced, and the same sellers often kill and sell endangered bats and other vertebrates for display. plus mites got into half the ones i had and turned them into dead bug dust. if mites ever develop a taste for plastic i will be sad about my collection but the world will be saved from a lot of nasty garbage so it would ultimately be a Plus.
so unless you personally know the person that pinned the insect, i would be very cautious about buying dead things from random online stores or dealers at ‘curiosity’ or ‘oddity’ shows and things like that, since it’s all sourced from alibaba and whatnot anyway. i swear i saw like 5 different people selling the same dead octopuses in orbs at the last curiosity show i went to. they are cool, but i have no idea where those octopuses came from and i doubt the people selling them did either.
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aspd-culture · 7 months
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Tw : vent
ASPD culture Having an exception that you realize is slowly fading as an exception and you’re caring about them a lot less, you can feel that connection you had to them fizzing out and you have trouble knowing how to feel about it. I wouldn’t say I feel guilt or grief but there is a understanding this is happening and denying and hoping it stays, and trying so hard to pick up the pieces of care together you have left and grasping it in a chokehold. I wanted to spend my life with them, you were the closest person to ever understanding me, I told you about my aspd symptoms and you didn’t see me any differently…. The moment I realized the empathy and excitement I had for them was fizzling I fell into a small mopey depression. I continue to keep denying it and outrunning it, at this point I’m using every fiber I have left to make them mine and connect with them more until it runs out. I just hope it sparks up again. I know this can happen with exceptions. If it doesn’t I still will hold everything I’ve been through with them and them as a person close to me, indefinitely.
Every exception I’ve had in my life, even if they ended wrong or have been faded out for years, I remember all of them, and it’s like I hold them like little pearls in my mind, even if I still couldn’t give less of a shit about who they are as a person. They made me feel and for that reason alone they’re held like time capsules permanently in my memory
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spicymiilk · 1 year
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Drabble
A quick bullshit little drabble cause I’m trying to convince myself to write.
When Spider was on the cusp of six years old, he made up a friend. When Norm asked him about it, he swore up and down that it wasn’t because the Omaticaya didn’t like him, or because he didn’t have any friends amongst the Na’vi, it was just because he was bored, sometimes. The base gets really lonely, without any of his big blue friends.
The truth of the matter is that Spider wasn’t really, clicking, with anyone. Jake’s kids, the nice human-y ones, where really young. They weren’t as mature as Spider because Spider is six, and Jake’s kids are four and three years old, and they just aren’t as interesting, after a while.
So Spider makes up a friend, who’s everything he’s not. He’s big and blue, and his hair doesn’t painfully tug at the crown of his head. He’s got long limbs, perfect for climbing and wrestling with Neteyam; but they’re gentle enough to play with Spider, too.
He talks with his imaginary friend all the time, like ALL the time. Norm asks him why he’s sitting on the cold floor in the middle of the lab when everyone’s in their capsules a week into Spider’s new friendship, because Spider is visibly shivering through his big, stolen tshirt, but his friend is sitting on top of one of the closed lids and pulls a face behind Norm— it makes it seem much less serious than it is.
And when Neytiri hisses at him to get out demon, out of my home, my forest Spider toddles right back to his friend, and asks him why no one really likes him. Even Jake, who rubs his hair and says he’s a ‘good kid’ doesn’t do anything more than that.
Spider’s friend can’t hug him the way Jake hugs his kids. It’s part of the reason why he stops talking to his friend. The other reason is because Neytiri had loudly asked why the demon child is talking into thin air, if he thinks that it will bring anymore attention to him than he deserves.
Norm finds Spider once, sitting by the edge of his bed, staring at the floor with tears in his eyes. When Norm asks what’s wrong, Spider can only say his friend is dead, because Neytiri and Jake and Norm had killed him.
Norm is worried, tries to talk to the scientists about what happened, who said something to Spider but it stops mattering after a couple of days, because Spider goes right back to sitting on the cold floor of the link lab; except this time, he doesn’t really talk to anyone. He just sits and waits for the scientists to come out, so at least then, he’ll have someone to be around.
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sorry-moots · 3 months
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Inversion of Genesis But I Changed It
i'm sorry this is late and short but college is really kickin my ass that's a lie i just procrastinated writing this and now i'm procrastinating my assignments too WHOOHOO character featured: scaramouche, haypasia, lumine, mention of tighnari cws: none :) wc: 1,016
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Chapter Nine
“You’re just in time,” Scaramouche says as you walk in. You had left to grab lunch and had been dragging your feet but the harbinger managed to pique your interest.
“Just in time for what?” you ask, eager to know what had your superior so excited. It’s not every day he’s this cheery and you were planning to enjoy his good humor.
“Take my hand and close your eyes,” he commands, and you do so without hesitation.
“Behold, my first follower.”
You open your eyes again and you’re no longer in the office. You’re now surrounded by trees and flowers and green glass. As you take everything in, you become aware of a young woman sleeping on a small bed in the arboretum. It takes a minute for you to process everything and reply.
“Your first follower? What about me?” you ask, faux offended.
“You’re not my follower,” he shoots back. “You're my right hand.”
“Oh really?” you tease. “And just what are my benefits as your right hand?”
He smirks as he answers, “Front row tickets to my neverending awesomeness.”
For once, you’re the one rolling your eyes. “I was hoping for PTO but that works, too, I guess.”
The banter eventually stops, but the atmosphere remains amiable and light. The two of you are content to watch the sleeping woman in the comfortable silence, until she receives a guest.
“Oh, this day just keeps getting better!” the harbinger exclaims. “Watch this, I’m gonna start talking to her– it’s gonna freak her out.”
You watch as the traveler looks around, searching for your boss, not realizing he is only there in spirit. Her little companion is flying around erratically like an anxious gnat.
“...I know you must be curious. I might as well tell you that I entered Haypasia’s consciousness the moment I sensed your touch.”
As they talk, you finally entertain the thoughts nagging at the back of your head.
If he was able to project himself to the traveler through Haypasia hundreds of miles away, how come he needs to hold my hand?
Clearly, he can maintain a telepathic connection without physical contact— how else would he be talking to the traveler? And she can definitely see him, too; she’s staring right at him. There’s no reason for Scaramouche to be holding your hand. He just is.
Just as that train of thought began to consume you, the harbinger’s voice took on a hint of ire, detectable only because you spend so much time with him. He doesn’t look mad, per se, but whatever the traveler said has soured his good mood.
“Both good and bad things can be considered gifts. After all, gods are not expected to abide by reason.”
Thunder rumbles, simultaneously distant and in your ears. Through your connection with Scaramouche, you can see the sky darkening above Pardis Dhyai. A lightning storm of his own creation. Screams quickly follow.
The greenhouse blinks out of view and you’re disoriented until you move and feel Scaramouche’s fingers tighten reflexively around yours. Realizing what he had done, he drops your hand like a squirming beetle.
A heavy silence hung in the air. Not wanting to further upset your boss, you went back to your desk to sort through the correspondence.
Hours pass and you're finally about to leave the office when you notice Scaramouche lost in thought. As wont to avoid irritating him as you are, your curiosity– or worry?– gets the best of you.
“Lord Scaramouche…?” you call out. He raises his head and you continue. “Did the traveler say something to trouble you?”
“That little twerp tried to talk me out of ascending to godhood,” he growled. “She said that my allies plan to infuse my consciousness with divine knowledge capsules. She said that I’ll change, that I won’t be the same.
“That they’re essentially turning me into a new person,” he finished.”
You contemplated his words with a concentrated look. No words would reassure him, so you took a different approach.
“Well, are you sure you even want to ascend to godhood?”
The harbinger looks positively scandalized but you keep going. “I mean, think of all you’ve accomplished!
“You command an army of soldiers. You answer directly to Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa. You’re already really powerful on your own and, I dunno, I kinda like you the way you are now…” You trail off at the end, cracking your knuckles nervously. “Well whatever you decide, I’ll support you.”
He’s still staring at you with his mouth agape, so you turn to walk back to your desk before a question comes to mind.
“By the way, sir… Why did you electrocute that one guy? Your accuracy is usually perfect, but just now you hit someone who was protecting Haypasia.”
Broken from his reverie, his lip curls. “I’m not a fan of foxes.”
*****
Before you parted ways at the hotel last, Scaramouche told you he didn’t need you to come, essentially giving you the day off.
Unfortunately for him, you hadn’t taken a day off since before you started working for him. With your overabundance of time, you found yourself itching to bake. Three hours later, you stood in the hotel’s kitchen with a perfect custard pudding. And no one to share it with.
You know he’s not a fan of sweets, but you ultimately decide that your boss should be your judge. In a blink, the pudding is packed into a basket and ready to go.
The walk to the base is most pleasant. A gentle breeze softens the sun's intensity and plays with your hair, caressing your face like a fond mother. The cheerful sun, the billowing clouds, and the song of the dusk birds made for the perfect ambience. Such tranquility could not, however, mask the banging coming from underground.
Without much thought, you pick up the pace. Scaramouche is probably getting rough with the soldiers again…
A moment later, you arrive at the mecha suit lab and push the doors open. To your horror, it is not a Fatuus that Scaramouche has engaged.
It’s the Traveler.
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tags: @lacunaanonymoused, @dollpoetwriting a/n: this would've been longer but then it would've turned into a 2-for-1 chapter and that would really irk me
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gretavanlace · 1 year
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Poppins (part 3)
Jake Kiszka x reader
18+ only! Minors do not interact!
Warnings: language, angst, dirty talk, fingering (fem rec) umm, I think that’s about it…for now
A week later, after a beer with Josh on the porch in the dark that should’ve felt more awkward than it did, you find yourself at Karen and Kelly’s, enjoying a get together. A last laugh before Jake heads back out on whatever road he plans on wandering down next.
You’ll miss him painfully, though you’d rather die than readily admit it.
You’ve ducked away to slip into the bathroom, but instead, have landed in Jake and Josh’s childhood bedroom.
It’s a cluttered mess, but it draws you in…a curious moth to a time capsule flame. Standing silently, shoes sinking into the carpet, a thought crosses your mind…I could stay here forever. In this little room that was once their world. Forever.
Thoughts like these come far too often. They make you uneasy…it’s as if they occupy your heart equally, and that makes no sense.
A voice, quiet and inquisitive, invades your reverie “Lost, poppins?”
Jake. Of course he would find you. Josh leaves well enough alone. Jake doesn’t care for being left behind, no matter how trivial the circumstances.
He meanders through the room silently as you soak in your surroundings. Band and movie posters litter the walls, corners sagging lazily over the thumbtacks pinning them in place. Gold plated trophies bearing faceless figures kicking soccer balls scatter across shelves and dressers, an old pair of converse wait patiently in the corner, never to be worn again. They make you feel sad for some inexplicable reason.
The space smells of lemon pledge and them. They’re so alike that way…the way they smell. It makes you wonder, is that just because they’re brothers? Raised together under the same roof, slumbering beneath the same ceiling night after night, scraping their dinner plates clean of matching meals, trudging identically across the lawn each morning to catch the school bus? growing and changing together? Together, together, together…always together? Or more so because they’re twins…split from one egg, nestled, tangled up tight in the womb, until their mother labored them into the harsh light of the world?
You look right, and you’re surrounded by Josh. Left, Jake. Perhaps if you spun in circles long enough, they might merge into one…wouldn’t that solve all of your problems?
“It’s like a shrine.” You murmur, wonderstruck by the way their parents have left the room intact and untouched aside from Karen’s dusting and swapping clean linens for their counterparts to keep them fresh.
“Yeah, well, we’re the twins. The beloved gruesome twosome.” Jake is only teasing, but he’s right. “They turned Ron’s room into a gym almost right away. My mother thought she needed one one night after too many daiquiris. It’s Costco storage now.”
He’s perched on what you assume was once his bed, a prince returned to the throne of his kingdom. You switch your focus from the various objects dotting the shelves, to his flawless face, and find him watching you carefully.
“I like having you in here.” He muses softly. “Makes me feel like I’m young again.”
You fight a smile, but it comes anyway. “You’re still young, Jake.”
He leans back with his elbows digging into an ancient quilt, legs splayed wide. “Makes me feel like I’m really young though. Like I’m back in high school with a pretty girl in my room who won’t sit down because she’s nervous I might try and put my hand up her skirt.”
Leaning back against a desk you assume to be Josh’s (Jake, having never been studious from the stories you’ve heard) you attempt to adopt his casual air. “My guess is that Josh had more girls in this room than you ever did. Theater girls are crazy…or so I’ve been told.”
He laughs loudly, head tipped back to expose the perfect column of his throat. When he refocuses on your face, the look in his eyes nearly steals your breath. It’s beautiful, and predatory. “So you’ve been told, or do you know that first hand?”
“Are you asking if I was a crazy theater girl,” You feign confusion “Or if I’ve let theater girls go crazy on me?”
He hums as if amused, “I know what you’re doing.”
Running from the room seems like an excellent plan. Instead, you stay in place, gaze lingering everywhere but upon him. “And what am I doing, Jake? Because I just happened to find my way in here, you’re the one who…”
“You’re avoiding me.” He interrupts.
“Avoiding you?” You scoff, stunned by how far off it is from what you had expected him to say. “We’re in the same room, bud…I’m failing to see how…”
“You always do this,” he has risen gracefully to his feet, closing in on you step by step. “You push me away with stupid jokes, or flippant comments…and I know why. Do you?”
“Do I what?” You whisper as he nears.
“Do you know why you do that?” He’s in front of you now, so close you feel warm in his radiant heat.
A small shake of your head is your offering, cornered like a quivering rodent with a sleek, ravenous, alley cat bearing down upon it.
“It’s because you want me,” he moves nearer, hands circling your waist as though he owns your body…and perhaps he does. “Maybe not as badly as I want you, but you want me. Tell me you don’t.”
“Jake…”
His grip tightens. “Go on. Tell me.”
The silence is deafening, until he breaks it softly. “Stop. That’s all you have to say.”
“Stop.” It hushes out of you, hardly a whisper, but he releases you and steps away as if you’ve shouted.
A quiet apology is offered, but you shake your head. He wasn’t wrong, and he needn’t be sorry.
“So, who is this?” You ask, scrambling to return to innocent ground. “Her face is everywhere.”
You scan the snapshots littering the wall, waiting for his reply. It doesn’t come, so you offer an apology of your own.
“No, you’re good.” He assures, brushing off his silence for something less than it feels like it was. “Just someone who used to matter.”
“Pretty.”
“Yeah.” He grins, gaze flitting over your features. “I have a type, I suppose.”
“Did you love her?” The question comes from nowhere, and you long to take it back. What business is it of yours?
“Yes.”
“Did the road drag you away, free bird?” You joke, hiding your unease with his candor as you settle down on the bed opposite his. Josh’s bed.
“No.” He sounds offhanded, but the moment feels heavier. “My brother fucked her. He was drunk and she was somethin’ else, and I couldn’t blame him.”
“So you blamed her.” You ask, after a stretch of shocked silence.
“So I blamed her.” He confirms with a gentle nod of his head.
“I’m sorry.” It comes as a whisper. You feel badly for him, and worse for bringing her up, for causing the dull flash of pain in his eyes.
He shakes it off as quickly as it came. “I’m not. Better to see the truth of someone’s heart before they get their hands on yours.”
“That explains the girl in every port.” You ponder aloud, mostly to yourself.
The aged mattress creaks under his weight as he sinks down beside you. “A girl in every port?” His fingers begin toying tenderly with your own. “That sounds suspiciously like Josh. Did he put that idea in your pretty head?”
“Is it not the truth?” You wrap your fingers up with his, though it’s the last thing you should do.
“He tells you those things because he knows there’s something here.” He points to you, and then to himself. “He’s in love with you. Can’t say I can fault him for that.”
Though stunned, in love with you?, you march right by it like it hasn’t been said. “Doesn’t automatically make it a lie. Is it? True, I mean? Girl in every port?”
“I like sex, poppins.” He shrugs casually, like he’s just confessed his favorite flavor of ice cream. “So, I indulge as often as possible…that’s all.”
“Well,” you pull your hand away as if stung. “I’m not an indulgence, Jake.”
“Ah,” the sexiest of smiles graces his sinful mouth. “That’s where you’re wrong, babe. You’re the sweetest indulgence of all. You’d be like grapes, warmed under the sun, ready to burst on the tongue, fed by angels.”
He’s close now…so fucking close. Leaned in, stealing all the air from the room while humming poetic nonsense into your ear, breath tickling along your throat as his lips tease, barely there and feathering over your thrumming jugular.
“What if I stand up and close the door? Turn the lock and spread these gorgeous legs? Will you feed it to me?”
“Jake…” You loathe the way it moans softly out of you, but it’s too late to right that wrong.
“Oh, that was nice, poppins…” his teeth have found your earlobe, drawing forth a shiver you can’t conceal. “Say my name like that one more time for me, all soft and sweet. You sound like you’re begging.”
Now those nimble fingers of his are popping the buttons on the fly of your jeans one by one, allowing for the protest you can’t seem to muster.
“Jake, everyone’s downstairs and…”
“We’ll hear them.” He promises quietly, nuzzling at your temple as his mouth kisses the apple of your cheek sweetly. “Are you wet? Have you soaked through your little panties? Trembling for my fingers, or my mouth, or my cock?”
You're lost now. Completely…and you couldn’t give less of a shit if you actively tried. And, when his hand slips inside your panties, you forget to stifle the moan of surprised relief that gasps out of you.
“Yeah?” He teases, circling the pads of his fingers over your wet clit delicately. “Does that feel good?”
Hands in his tangled hair, you turn in close, lips resting against his mouth, breathing in his ragged breaths. “Jake, please…”
“Please what?” He coaxes, still loving on your cunt like he’s never been more devoted to anything in his life.
“I…” he chooses that exact moment to bury a finger inside you, huffing a breath of a laugh when you lurch forward, further into his arms. “Fuck…more.”
“Poppins wants more…” he sighs, slipping a second finger in to join the first.
He curls into that special little place that makes your muscles turn weak just as the sound of footsteps begin to ascend the stairs.
Moving to push him away, he tugs you in tighter, “It’s him, can’t you tell by the walk? Let him see. You’re mine. C’mon, let him see.”
“Oh my god, Jake…stop!” you shove at him again and he backs off.
Josh appears in the doorway seconds after you’ve finished yanking your shirt down to cover the buttons you haven’t had time to fasten. Jake looks casual, running his still slick fingers over his lips, but you’re flushed with shame and adrenaline.
“Mom’s looking for you.” He informs his twin with a hard edge to his tone. “Says you promised to man the grill.”
“That I did, brother…” Jake rises, taking no concern to hide his very obvious erection as he ambles out of the room. “That I did.”
Josh waits until you’re alone in the suffocating quiet.
“Interrupted again,” he tilts his head with a somber, inquisitive stare. “I seem to be making a habit of this.”
“No,” you reach out to smooth his curls, but then retreat, worried he might smell his other half all over you. “We were just…”
“Please don’t lie to me, sweetheart.” He manages a sorrowful smile. “That makes this so much worse.”
You're left with that, in a room surrounded by the relics of the boys they once were, with a heart stuffed full of the men they have become.
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