#we found swamp water

[sidetongue]

gleeful swamp monsters 

#i wanted to find a lake or river for them to swim in #because they all smelt like raw bone #aka DISGUSTING #and i didnt want to bath them lol #well we didnt find fresh water #we found swamp water #which is arguably stinkier than the bones #rip #harold #budgie #moby #henry #dogs

[obsessivevoidkitten]

A Day In Blood-Swell Swamp

Yandere Frog Hybrid x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Noncon, non-human genitalia, oviposition, general yandere behavior, misunderstanding, reader stuck in mud) Word Count: 1.7k (The yandere in this is a cinnamon roll. A real sweetie. Needed another one like him. He misread the reader's intent and is not at all a bad guy. Really hope you guys like him)

You were an artist on a mission. You were traveling all over your country to sketch the flora, fauna, and landscapes of various habitats. You had already visited several different forests and a couple of prairies.

Now you found yourself in Blood-Swell Swamp. The waters of the swamp were a deep red color. Many people in nearby towns were superstitious about the place and its odd colored water, but you knew it was just a combination of iron filled water and algae.

You rowed the tiny boat you had purchased and found a dry outcrop of trees overlooking the water logged scenery.

When you looked at the impressive sanguine waters and wetland forest sprawling out in front of you, you knew you had made the right decision.

You got out and tied the boat to a tree, the waters were still, but better safe than sorry.

Once you decided on a good spot to look at you pulled out your sketchbook. The first thing you sketched was a frog on a lily pad beside a blooming water lily. The next thing was a cluster of unique purple flowers.

After that you began the larger task of drawing the landscape as a whole.

You had just about finished when you heard a splash and then an enthusiastic male voice behind you.

"HI!!!"

You turned around and almost fell over. If the sudden presence of an unknown man behind you hadn’t been enough to scare you, the fact that he wasn’t human would have.

He was crouched down on very athletic looking legs, wearing nothing but a loincloth. He had long webbed toes and fingers that matched, though he only had four fingers. His mouth was a bit too long and his eyes were large and purple. He was a bit shorter than you but he clearly had a strong and compact body.

But the most odd thing was the color of his skin. He was a deep cherry red with the color transitioning into blue on his arms and legs past his elbows and knees.

His medium length black hair dripped as he tilted his head and spoke again.

“Hello? Are you okay? What are you doing?”

You collected yourself, still frightened by his appearance despite his so far friendly demeanor.

“Uh…”

“Are you okay??”

You flinched backwards as he stepped towards you. He stopped approaching as he noticed you were uncomfortable.

“I just… never saw a… what you are before…”

“Oh! Well I am a frogkin. I have seen a human or two before, but only from a distance.”

You were about to respond but he cut you off, he seemed to be really excited to have someone to chat with.

“My name is Cobi, what’re you called?”

You mentally scolded yourself for your rude and frightened demeanor and forced yourself to calm down and introduce yourself. You were in his territory after all, and he had been nothing but polite to you. You gave him your name and explained to him that you were an artist there to sketch the beauty of the swamp. You showed him your sketches.

“Oh wow, we don’t have any artists here. I have never even heard of sketches. We have some wall paintings in some of our huts, but nothing like this!”

The frog man was clearly impressed.

“Oh, I couldn’t live without being able to draw all the beauty around me. Hey, could I draw you? Just a quick sketch!”

If the skin on his face wasn’t already red you would have been able to see that he was blushing. If you drew beautiful things then that must mean you thought he was beautiful. The notion made his heart flutter.

“S-sure!” Cobi said in his ever chipper voice.

You spent some time sketching him, despite your original plan to get just a quick one in, he happily let you get a couple extra. One with him in the water and one of him crouched on a dead log.

When you finished your sketching you fished some sandwiches out of your backpack and offered one to Cobi. He took it and sniffed inquisitively trying to figure out what it was.

“It’s food, it’s called a sandwich.” You took a few bites of yours and then he took a few cautious nibbles before his eyes lit up and he stuffed the whole thing in his mouth at once. You had to stifle a laugh.

"Thank you, that was super yummy!"

Cobi was blushing more. You drew him because you thought he was beautiful. Attractive. And now you gave him food. Surely that meant you were interested in him right? People of the swamp didn’t just give food away! You gave food to those you liked. Friends, family, and potential mates you were courting!

Even if it was subconscious you probably were trying to court him. And he really wanted to explore the possibility of being your partner too, you were so kind and interesting.

But he didn't want to jump the gun and assume before he had a bit more solid evidence. So instead of asking or acting on what he felt all the evidence pointing to he just hung around and chatted with you a bit more while you finished your meal.

You finished your food slowly, enjoying your time getting to know the inquisitive frogkin. You answered all of his seemingly inexhaustible supply of  questions.

When you finished and said your goodbyes he seemed sad, but you were a traveler. You couldn't really make lasting friendships. And then, when you started to get up, you fell right over your own feet. Your arm stuck in some thick mud with your face low to the ground and your ass pointed up.

And that was all the confirmation Cobi needed. Ass up and presenting. The universal signal to breed!

If you had been able to see his face you would have seen that he was flustered beyond measure. You were also far too preoccupied to notice what Cobi was muttering.

"Oh... well I thought that maybe you just wanted to c-court and get to know one another better... I thought.. I j-just um... well it's just that... I-I have never even done it before... but... it seems like you really want to..."

Despite it being a bit fast he supposed he had become quite smitten with you. And, well, maybe humans coupled faster than frogkin. And he really didn't want to hurt you or offend you!

"O-okay, I'll do it!" He exclaimed loudly.

You were finally almost out of the muck and were about to ask him what he was going to do when he suddenly pulled your pants down and slid his huge tongue right into your entrance. You shuddered in shock and ended up with both hands stuck in the mud.

"Wh-what are you doing!?"

Cobi wasn't paying any attention to your words, not as lost in his efforts to loosen up your hole in preparation for the main event as he was. He gripped your legs with his webbed hands as his tongue probed you as deeply as possible, kneading and throbbing and gently stretching out your insides.

The pleasure was indescribable. You wanted Cobi to stop, but time you tried to articulate a protest the only sound you managed to produce was a loud moan or gasp.

And of course the only possible reaction Cobi could have to that was to think that he was doing a great job making his new mate nice. And he wanted to feel good with you.

He removed the slimy tongue from your entrance and removed his loincloth. Cobi then aligned his engorged cock and drew circles against it with before tip before slowly sinking into your tight heat. He had held reservations about making love to you so soon into courting, but now that he was inside you the last of them had melted away.

"Oh, oh, ooohh, you feel so amazing! I-i think you were meant for this pretty artist~"

Much in the same way that your resolve had melted away under the burning flood of pleasure Cobi was drowning you in. Judging by how it felt it was no human cock. It was much longer, a little thicker, and felt a bit slimy. With every thrust you lost a bit more of yourself until you were moving back against his movements, desperately trying to chase the orgasm you were building up to.

You had just come here to help along your art and now here you were in the mud mounted like a bitch in heat and enjoying it. It would have been humiliating if you had the capacity to dwell on such matters.

There were more important things to think about right now. Like the cock breeding you. The feel of unnaturally heavy nuts smacking into you. The soft and attentive lips kissing up your backside, straining to reach your neck.

You arched your back as you had the most mind shattering climax of your life.

"I can't hold back anymore. You sketched for me. L-let me just paint your insides for you~"

And then you learned why his nuts felt so heavy as they slammed against you. As he filled you he deposited much more than just normal cum. Over dozens of small round objects flooded into you and adhered themselves to your walls.

"Wh-what the?"

Cobi plucked you out of the mud with ease and pulled you into his lap as he sat down, with his prick still buried snugly inside of you. He held you close to his sweaty body and caressed your belly lovingly.

Now that you had a moment to process your predicament and the events that had just transpired you were completely dumbfounded. One moment you were trying to get out of the mire and the next you were being fucked.

"I'm so glad you wanted to be mates~"

Your mind was reeling trying to come up with a response to such an outrageous claim. When had you expressed anything resembling such a des-

"Mmmm~" Instead you could only reply with a pathetic pleased whimper as Cobi began rolling his hips, grinding into you and very slowly fucking you for a second time.

"Don't worry, I have plenty more eggs just for my sweet artist~"

You could only lean back against him and drool as he wrapped his arms around you possessively and temporarily fucked your mind away once more.

#yandere #yandere terato #yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #male yandere #yandere boyfriend #yandere x reader #gender neutral reader #x reader #male yandere x gn reader #My ocs #My OC Cobi

[hedgehog-moss]

I found a nice plant in a bog last year, like a reed with a tuft of very soft cotton at the top (bless you English, I just looked up "plant that grows in a bog and looks like cotton" and the English language replied "bog cotton, duh") (in French it's called linaigrette, which should be a small bird), and I was very charmed by the look of it and decided to try to pirate it so I would have some on my land. I plucked one fluffy reed and kept it on my windowsill so I wouldn't forget to return.

Of course, when I returned a few days later with a shovel and a bucket, I couldn't find the bog cotton again. Or the bog. It was a small swamp-y area in a very vast plateau with few landmarks, so it's possible I got turned around, but also, things tend to disappear around here sometimes, like the footpath that leads to the stream, only to reappear a few weeks later. I very much felt like I was in the correct location and the bog wasn't, but okay. Since I didn't trust myself to tell the normal reeds from the cotton-y ones in other seasons, I decided I'd come back around the same time next year.

I've had the linaigrette in my egg spiral in the kitchen this whole time as a memento, and I finally resumed my quest today. I left my car in the exact same spot where I'd left it the previous two times, just before the road gets squiggly for no apparent reason:

I climbed the hill and behind it were just miles and miles of estives (summer cow pastures) with sometimes a barn here and there with a mobile milking parlour. My plan was to follow every rivulet I came across, since I was looking for a watery area.

I picked a barn as a landmark to find my car again, and off we went.

Finding reeds wasn't difficult, but none of them had cotton tufts...

Pandolf was extremely aware that we were looking for something, but he wasn't sure what. Here he is digging in the mud with his paw, looking invested in this treasure hunt.

Sometimes he would stop with one paw poised in the air and his whole body pointed forwards like an English setter who just smelled a pheasant in a Heywood Hardy painting and it was always for cow herds. If I squinted and squinted I could be sure to find a cow on the horizon, the size of an ant—I think Pan was a bit disappointed when he realised I never followed up on the cows he smelled, and it probably wasn't cows we were looking for.

(zoom x400 in case you can't see this cow standing apart from her herd like a sentinel)

I tried to amuse him by giving him little challenges here and there, like climbing on big rocks because he likes rocks. He likes being congratulated even more, though, and if I didn't insist that he actually climb on the rock he would just sort of run towards it and push himself off of it like a swimmer doing a flip turn at the wall to run back to me even faster (for pats). (Had to turn off the sound in the video because the wind was loud, so I subtitled our dialogue)

Some challenges he politely declined to do. I like how despite being very eager to please he sometimes gives me very clear "no thank you"s when I tell him to do something that sounds absurd to him. We found a little waterfall that went down a slope like a mud toboggan and I said "down!" to tell him to slide down that thing and he was like

Our strategy of following water paid off, because look what we found eventually!!

I had a very hard time digging up one clump of reeds with some roots; the bog was holding on to its cotton for dear life. Every time I opened a hole in the mud with my shovel with a horrible sucking noise, the bog would immediately close on itself again with an even stronger vacuum. It also tried to eat my boots, repeatedly. When I moved around the reeds I was trying to steal I had to take my foot out of my boot, stand on one leg like a heron and put the tip of my shovel under the sole of the boot to pry it up. But after maybe 20min of effort, the bog finally let go of one muddy clump of reeds in a loud, dejected SLURP and I was able to put it in my bucket. It was about 10x heavier than I expected so the walk back to my car was slow!

(One thing to keep in mind if you're going to wrestle a swamp for half an hour, is that you're going to end up looking and smelling like a swamp creature. I had to stop at the post office to send a parcel and I really regretted not doing it earlier. It's funny because the post office lady is always like "no, don't worry, come in!! <3" when you show up on rainy days apologising for your muddy shoes, but when I arrived today and asked her from the entrance if I should just throw my parcel at her rather than go in, with my socks making a pitiful plop-plop sound in my boots as I walked, and mud freckles all over my face from aggressive shovelling, and overall looking like a gravedigger, she took one look at me and went "... yes, throw it.")

The good news is, I didn't get lost returning from the swamp to my car, and had no trouble finding my barn-landmark again, and there were new animals there, a nice mule with a retinue of small ponies.

She was friendly at first but then soured on me when I refused to let her sniff and maybe taste the reeds I'd had so much trouble digging up, and then she wouldn't let me approach her ponies.

One of the ponies approached Pandolf, and I told him to stand still—we've been working on "reste là !" (stay there) for a while and it's hard because he's so friendly and exuberant, so I was very proud of him when he stood there frozen as a marble statue, waiting for the pony to come closer. The pony ended up stopping at a prudent distance and stretching his neck out to try and sniff Pandolf, it was very cute.

That's the end of the quest for bog cotton! Here it is now, transplanted to the swamp-y part of my pasture, I hope it'll like it here.

#crawling along

[saberlight1]

promises & melodies — coriolanus snow

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: slight tbosas spoilers, established relationship, buzzcut!snow, slight possessive snow, kind of toxic snow, fluff, Y/N usage, standard hunger games warnings.

authors note: hiii. so i can’t even really explain myself if i’m being honest.. tom blyth is too fine i’m sorry finnick 😔. part 2 is linked here, part 3 here. but i hope you all enjoy, much love!

masterlist

A bright smile adorned your face as you ran through the flower field with your cousins, Lucy Gray & Maude Ivory.

You and the Covey were showing your boyfriend, Coryo, the secret spots of paradise you had found during your time in District 12. Since the Seam wasn’t the most peaceful place, you and your family opted to find your own sanctuary.

You always had, specially when you were kids, before you got rounded up by the peacekeepers. You all moved where the wind took you, never staying in one spot for long.

You missed it.

But, this was okay, you thought to yourself. You still had some of the people you cherished most, some you had lost along the way.

You were grateful regardless, enjoying the time you spent with your loved ones.

Lucy Gray’s laugh rang in your ears as Maude began to sing another one of her tunes she had came up with.

Out of breath, the three of you slowed down, walking at a normal place.

“Lord, that kid. She’ll be singing until she goes to the grave.” You joked, your thick accent smiling with your features.

Lucy laughed with you, locking your elbow with hers. “Sounds like a good way to go if you ask me.”

You nodded.

Lucy Gray sent a smile your way before breaking off to catch up to Maude Ivory, who was bent down ahead of you, looking at some swamp potato, or Katniss, as Lucy liked to call it.

You shook your head with a smile as you heard Lucy tell her for the 10th time that it was too early for it to be ripe. Sighing softly, you enjoyed the flowers surrounding you, the sunshine on your skin, and the wind in your hair.

That was until you felt the grip of your lover on your hips, your heart immediately soaring in your chest.

He walked with you, his hands still on you as he came to walk beside you now.

“It’s beautiful out here,” You murmured.

He looked to you with a smile, the hand that was around your waist now going to grip your hand. “Where did you say we were going again?”

“To the lake.” You smiled. “Maude Ivory found it a couple months ago when we were explorin’.”

He hummed in delight. “Haven’t swam in ages.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll love it,” You linked your arm with his, leaning your head on his shoulder with a smile. “It’s almost as gorgeous as you, darlin’.” You teased.

He shook his head, breaking eye contact with you. “I doubt that.”

“You’ll see, Snow.”

After more walking and chasing after Maude, you and the Covey finally arrived.

Maude immediately took off, running into the water, the others following suit.

You turned to Coryo with a grin as you slipped off your sundress, leaving you in your cyan swimsuit. With a wink, you turned on your heel and ran for the water, diving in.

When you resurfaced, you were met with a splash of water and saw white hair emerging from the water.

You felt his hands creep up your back before you saw him, a smile gracing your face. He gripped your waist, pulling you into his chest as he kissed your head.

You sat in his embrace for a while, simply enjoying your time with the boy.

“Thank you for this,” He whispered into your hair. “I mean it.”

You turned around in his arms. “What do you mean?”

“For taking me out here, showing me your space. And taking me away from that god awful district.” He joked with a smile.

You laughed. “You’re right. It’s wretched. If it wasn’t for the Covey, I would’ve made a run for it a while ago.”

He stopped for a moment at your words, his eyebrows furrowing. “You would?”

You nodded. “Yes. I hate it here. The peacekeepers rounded us up a year or two ago. Killed my and Lucy Gray’s mama in the process. A lot more too.” You sighed, looking down at the water. “Before, it was so nice. We had our own family. Since we been here… It’s been a struggle, I’ll tell you that much.”

His hand came up to cup your cheek. “I’m sorry. I’ll make sure that’ll never happen again.”

“You can’t promise that, Coryo. And that’s okay.” You sadly smiled, taking his hand and kissing it before swimming to your family.

The white-haired boy stood still in the water, watching you swim away as he processed your words.

He’d prove you wrong.

He was sure of it.

After all, Snow lands on top, and he was surely taking you with him. No matter what.

#tbosas #coriolanus snow fluff #coryo snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coryolucy #the hunger games #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #corio snow #coriolanus fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #lucy gray baird #the covey

[ivys-garden]

More Minecraft ideas, what part of Minecraft needs improvement?

You're wrong, it's ponds.

Ponds, lakes, lava pools. They all suck in Minecraft, they end up just being big holes in the ground with nothing interesting about them that make the landscape ugly and hole ridden

Now you might say “Ivy, literally no one cares” and to that I say, wheesht and accept my ramblings ya donut

So, how do we fix Ponds? It's simply really: make ponds generated structures.

Ponds would now be generated structures taking up one chunk, with an actual human made design to make them, you know, look good. There would be, say, 100 or so different designs to stop them looking to samey (they'd be so small that something like that would be feasible)

Lakes would be done similarly, only with the key difference, they would be made up of 4 chunk “cells”, each making up a corner of the lake.

ponds and lakes in plains or forest biomes would be made of blocks like mud and dirt.

Ponds and lakes in deserts (or oases if you want) would be made up of grass and sand

Ponds and lakes in tundras would be frozen over on the top layer of the water and with clay spawning around the water

Now, let's see some things that can be found in ponds and lakes:

Frogs

Nothing new here, frogs and frogspawn are most common ponds, pond frogs also only come in the green frog varietie.

Perhaps the oasis can have a desert rain frog variant that gives a purple frog light

Toads

Toads and toad spawn can be found in lakes and ponds in forest and plains biomes. Toads emerge from toad spawn in the same way frogs do. Toads have an exaggerated size, being double the size of the frog

Toads come in several colours (Green, Brown, Yellow, Orange and Lime) but these colours do not harbour any game mechanics (in other words: sorry but there are no toadlights)

Toads will eat all mobs with wings, that being the Parrot, Chicken, Phantom, Bat, Bee and the player if they are wearing an elytra, so watch out.

All the aforementioned mobs are scared of Toads, making them and effective deterrent to phantoms in particular

Cattails, Reeds, Rice, Algae and Papyrus

I'll just do all the plant life stuff at once (these will generate dependent on the pond or lake cell)

Algae is a new decorative blocks that can be placed on water

It will connect to other blocks, creating an unbroken surface across the water

Algae has a bright green hue and can be found in both ponds and lakes with the same frequency

Papyrus is a new plant that spawns naturally in the oasis, it is used as a more efficient way of making paper as it can be bonemealed and only one papyrus is needed to make paper

Rice is a plant that grows in water in lakes and ponds spawning in cherry groves.

Rice can be used in two recipes:

Rice Bowls:Putting rice, a bowl and any meat together will craft a rice bowl

This food source that can be eaten twice, eating the meat and then the rice

Sushi: putting rice, dried kelp and one fish into a crafting table creates Sushi, a foodsoarch that can be eaten instantly without playing the eating animation, not very nutritious but good in a pinch

Cattails are a purely decorative plant found in ponds and swamps

Reeds are more common around rivers and lakes, being a fern like plant that grows two tall.

Reeds can be used to craft a new item: Pan Pipes

Combining 3 reeds and 3 string will create pan pipes, these can be played to draw passive mobs towards you so long as the button to play them is held down.

Pan Pipes can also calm neutral mobs like wolves, iron golems and bees, but doing this instantly focus the Pan pipes into cool down

Pan pipes have a cool down double that of the Goat Horn

Bagpipes

By putting Pan Pipes, 3 iron nuggets, 3 red wool and 3 green wool together you can make Bagpipes.

Bagpipes have durability on top of having the same level of cool down as Pan Pipes. Bagpipes cannot be enchanted.

Bagpipes have the ability to PERMANENTLY pacify all hostile mobs in the chunk the player is in.

Bagpipes will break after 10 or so uses

Willow and Palm

Willow and palm are new wood types, Willow spawns around lakes and ponds and Palm spawns around oases.

Willow has a dark Bluish-green colour, complementing mangrove, where as Palm is a desaturated pale white

(These will generate depending on the pond or lake cell)

(Part 1/3)

#minecraft suggestions #minecraft ideas #minecraft #ponds #part 1 #part 1/3 #the beginning

[headspace-hotel]

my current list of biomes that need to be in Minecraft

cave biomes:

ice cave with ice and icicles, found under cold biomes

crystal cave with quartz in it. have a more natural looking quartz block for the overworld that can be crafted into the existing quartz, as well as quartz crystals. Found only in the deepslate layer like the deep dark

Flooded caves should be their own biome and have cave fish and stuff

island biomes:

you know how in real life islands can create really bizarre isolated ecosystems? yeah

definitely needs to be a Volcanic island that is all basalt and has magma and lava

desert/arid biomes:

lush desert with more diverse desert plants

red sand desert or outback with red sandstone and red sand

scrubland with patches of sand, coarse dirt and packed mud, occasional small trees and thorns

ocean biomes:

abyssal ocean found below y=20 with deep sea creatures, it is dark all the time. Since the world depth has increased so much we desperately need this. This could also include strange metal shipwrecks with strange loot

hydrothermal vents when

other biomes:

hot springs: Surface pools surrounded by calcite and dripstone, with mud at the bottom and bubbling water that gives off steam. How? Simple: just make it so that mud placed on top of a magma block will make water on top of the mud bubble and steam

pink sand beach: Exactly what it sounds like, because why not.

salt marshes: Found in similar areas to mangrove swamps, with reeds that can be harvested for thatch. There are soooo many types of wetlands, Mojang. So many.

peat bogs: Another swamp variant where you can dig peat which can be used for fuel

cloud forest. You know how in real life there are jungles at high elevations called cloud forests? This would be a slight fantasy exaggeration/expansion of that idea. Cloud forests are found mixed with stony peaks in high mountains and on clusters of floating islands/rocks at or above the levels that mountains generate. They're often inaccessible without elytra.

ancient forest: Mainly just a forest with huger trees and mushrooms that give off light. I want BIG trees. I want 3x3 oak trees and dark oak trees. Patches of mycelium on the ground. Rarer orchids.

p l e a s e

#minecraft #mineblr

[marlynnofmany]

Decoy

Zhee stopped abruptly on the raised pathway, making one of many bug-alien hisses. This one was quiet and annoyed. The annoyed part didn’t narrow things down much for me, since he found many things irritating and wasn’t shy about telling the world about it (whichever world we were on at the time), but the quietness seemed significant.

I was glad I hadn’t bumped into him, and not just because he had the package we were supposed to deliver strapped to his back. (I’d volunteered to hold the thing, but he insisted that I keep my hands free since I only had two feet and was that much more likely to fall into the swamp. I’d wanted to argue that, but didn’t).

“What’s wrong?” I asked in an undertone.

“Them,” Zhee hissed, peering around a tower of sprouting plants and decaying wood that had once been a massive tree. The path curved off in that direction, blocked from view.

I crept forward for a look. Voices murmured. Then something splashed, and people were complaining loudly.

There on the path ahead of us were three Mesmers, all varying shades of gem-bedecked green to Zhee’s purple, waving their pincher arms about in irritation while a Frillian stood to one side with a fancy hovercart full of supplies and a long-suffering expression. The water rippled next to a half-submerged log. I wondered if one of them had thrown something or if a local creature had jumped in. Two of the Mesmers were holding bits of tech that I didn’t recognize from a distance.

Zhee was still hissing. “Why are they here, of all places? Blocking my way instead of getting on each other’s nerves literally anywhere else?”

“Who are they?” I asked. They hadn’t spotted us yet, busy as they were with complaining more than Zhee ever did.

“Rich idiots from my hatching year,” he grumbled. “They are not going to make this interaction pleasant.”

I looked around the swamp, with all its murky water and sparse trees. “We can’t really go around, can we?” The walkway was the only sign of civilization. While it was plenty wide for people to pass each other, even with hovercarts, it was the only one in eyesight. There weren’t even stepping stones.

“No,” Zhee said. “Wading through the water wouldn’t do us any good; we’d still be in sight.”

“I’m not even sure it’s shallow enough to wade through,” I said, eyeballing the water. It had all manner of algae and alien moss floating in it.

“It is,” Zhee told me. “I’ve delivered here before. But they’ll see us either way.”

“What are they even doing?” I asked. It seemed too much to hope that they’d just leave if we waited a few minutes.

Zhee jabbed a pincher into the soft bark of the stump. “Nature photography. Looking for rare specimens with their expensive cameras. Probably on the trail of a Shrieking Tatterwing or Hooting Fungus.”

“There’s a fungus that hoots?”

Zhee angled his antennae into a frown at me. “It’s an animal. Just looks like fungus.”

“Got it.”

Neither of us moved for a moment, just watching the trio of spangly birdwatchers and their assistant who probably wasn’t paid enough to deal with them. They really did argue a lot. As far as I could tell, the three of them were having two different debates at once: whose fault it was that the water creature had fled, and whether the glimpse of a wingbeat in the distance was worth leaving the path to investigate.

That gave me an idea. “Hey, are they likely to go off after a sound they haven’t heard before? Or something they can’t quite place?”

Zhee gave me a look. “Are you thinking of imitating an animal call from your planet?”

“Yeah. Either verbally or—” I leaned over the water to pluck something like a blade of grass from a spray of plantlife. “I can make a pretty sharp bird call with this.”

Zhee’s alien face regarded me, tilting slightly. “How?”

“Like this.” I stretched it taut between my thumbs, in the way I’d learned to do as an outdoorsy kid. There was just enough of a gap between my knuckles. With all my fingers spread wide, I blew through the gap, and it made a piercing shriek that could have been a bird.

The Mesmers looked around; Zhee and I shrank back out of sight. I adjusted the grass and tried again, this time getting a warbly call that sounded like a duck with a stuffy nose.

When I held my silence, I heard a heated debate over what kind of creature had made the sounds, and whether they came from the same one or two different beasts. But the argument wrapped up quickly with the reminded that they really were here to find a Hooting Fungus.

“Knew it,” Zhee said.

“This is worth a shot, then.” I let the grass flutter to the pathway and laced my fingers together into another childhood favorite. With my hands cupped around nothing and as airtight as I could make them, I again blew into the gap between my thumbs, this time just the top half. The air circled through into a satisfying hoot.

They got very excited at that.

“I told you! I caught a glimpse over there!”

“It sounded like it came from more over this way; it must have moved!”

“Hurry, before it moves farther out!”

Two splashes, then a third, and I was grinning in delighted surprise at Zhee. The quiet burble of a hover engine reached my ears as the Frillian took the sensible route off-road after them.

After a few moments, we peeked around the stump. There they went, off into the murk, complaining and shushing each other and aiming their cameras upward. Soon enough they were out of sight behind more trees.

Zhee stepped forward. “Well,” he said. “That was shockingly successful.”

“You’re welcome,” I said happily.

We strolled along the empty pathway, with plenty of time to get our delivery there in time.

Zhee said, “You should make those noises on the ship when no one’s watching. See if they think an animal got in.”

I looked at him in amusement. “You’re only saying that because you already know what it is.”

“Yes,” he said haughtily, which made me laugh.

“I’ll consider it,” I said, already thinking about what other animal calls I could bring out when my alien crewmates least expected.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

#my writing #The Token Human #these are definitely Stupid Human Tricks that I have gotten a lot of mileage out of #nothing like a little autobiographical inspiration #in many ways this character is the me that 5-year-old me planned to grow up into #having a grand time #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #mimicry

[zaimta]

彡A VS. B

paring: laxus dreyar x reader

zai says: the ova was so funny but the fan service was certainly something, anyways laxus fic bc it's all i can write for the 10 other fairy tail stans on here this is for you

suggestive!! i’m pushing 18 let me live

it was the aftermath of the grand magic games, fairy tail won like they said they would but the little wager they made didn’t get forgotten. since the two split teams were forced to join as one, neither team could uphold the agreement. so as a tiebreaker makarov decided on an old-fashioned rock-paper-scissors to determine the victor.

erza stepped up to face laxus in the match “you got this erza! wipe the floor with em!” you cheered on your friend along with the rest of team ‘a’. erza nodded and raised her hand, laxus took up the same motion, when erza dropped her hand she had scissors while laxus had rock.

your jaw dropped and you felt your eye twitch “you got to be kidding me.” a chorus of groans and complaints came from the ‘a’ team, it was going to be a long day for all of you.

the ‘b’ team wasted no time, as soon as they won they got straight to business. laxus pulled out a map and presented it to the ‘a’ team “go to this forest to get a magic stone.”

“magic stone?” wendy asked curiously

“the forest is called ‘las puertas del infierno’.”

you blinked at him “let me get this straight you want us to go to some forest that is literally called the doors of hell, for a rock…yeah i’m not going.”

he laughed and smirked at you “that’s cute but you don’t have a choice here babe, you have till noon.”

“please i barely wanna look for some stupid rock so why would i-” mid-sentence you let yourself think, you caught the smirk he sent your way so he was sending you along with the exploration team on purpose. he knew you, and searching through a swamp for a rock was the last thing you wanted to do.

“you sick son of a bitch you are good.” you glared at him, he knew you well and you hated it, he had just what he needed to get the upper hand in the punishment game.

you slowly trudged through the swamp, disgusted by all its inhabitants and the murky water you were walking in “guys i wanna go home.”

gray looked at you from the corners of his eyes with a sigh “you’ve been saying that for the past ten minutes y/n.”

you sucked your teeth at him and rolled your eyes “that doesn’t make it any less true. let’s just find that stupid rock go we could get out of here, i mean lucy over here covered head to toe in leeches.”

“what?!” she shrieked while running around in circles “get them off me! get them off!”

“i would put im not touching those” you pointed to the leeches on her thighs “besides i just got my nails done these weren’t cheap you know.”

nastu fired a flame attack to help lucy with the leeches, while peeling off the remaining creatures he spoke to you over his shoulder “when did you find time to get those we just, got back from the grand magic games, and how did you pay for them last time i checked you’re dirt broke like the rest of us.”

lucy slapped his head “speak for yourself!” lucy had rent to pay so she could be anything she wanted but dirt broke, she's been taking jobs back to back just to pay her rent.

you shrugged "you have your strengths and i have mine, and i happen to have a bottomless wallet on my side."

happy snickered behind his paws “yeah a bottomless wallet who’s in loveee”

you whipped your neck around and yelled at happy “can it cat!” unfortunately for you he continued giggling floating off to be by natsu.

after walking through the swamp for what felt like hours, when it reality it was a long hour and thirty minutes you finally found the stone. thanks to gray and his unfortunate set of circumstances.

when you finally returned to the guild and returned the stone just for it to be used for a makeshift jacuzzi, you and lucy shared a single glance that spoke volumes.

your eyes took in laxus' chiseled body going lower and lower until your eyes rested on his happy trail, you were no stranger to this sight but it still did the job for you every time, too busy admiring his body you didn’t notice him looking at you with a lazy grin on his face “my eyes are up here y/n.”

his voice snapped you out of your daze “hm? oh yeah sure whatever.” you looked away from him ignoring the snickers coming from the remainder of the b team.

it came time for the b team to pick members from the a team. cana took wendy, mira took erza, gajeel took lucy, and unsurprisingly juvia took gray. you, elfman and natsu unfortunately got stuck with laxus.

you were stuck tending to laxus and the thunder legion by the jacuzzi while he sent natsu and elfman on a while goose chase for milk and bread, you rose a brow as they ran out of the guild for the items.

“y/n.” he smirked at you as he spoke, he pointed to his shoulder with his thumb “i want you to give me a massage if you don’t mind.”

you resisted the urge to roll your eyes ‘if you don’t mind’ he says, like you had a choice in the first place.

you flashed him a fake smile “gee i would have too but i don’t have a swimsuit! what if i fell in? we wouldn’t want that now would we?” you knew there was no proper way to get out of this, but even if you could stall a little you would be fine.

“i could get you a swimsuit y/n.” evergreen chipped in with a smile

you immediately turned around to face her “say what now?”

laxus smirked at you and nodded towards the guild doors "evergreen go take y/n to get a swimsuit." you couldn't protest even if you wanted to, and you were a little irritated that you didn't think your plan through. after picking swimsuits with evergreen, which you think she enjoyed more than you did, you walked back to the jacuzzi where they were all waiting for you.

laxus gave a low whistle shamelessly letting his eyes hungrily roam over your body and then pointed to his shoulders "where were we?" sometimes you couldn't deny how much you hated him.

bickslow smiled and pointed to his own shoulders “i’d like a massage too.”

you scowled at him which only caused his grin to become wider “freed is literally sitting right there make him do it. you’re all dead once this day ends.”

as you massaged his bare shoulders, you noticed the marks on his back that you left from your last night together, rolled your eyes at how he showed them off and traced a finger on the red scratches letting your nail gently glide across his back.

he pointed to his shoulder with a smirk on his face “my shoulders are up here y/n. are you feeling okay you’re out of it today?” he chuckled as he felt you glaring him down, as you massaged his shoulders you occasionally moved your hands to the base of his neck, longing to put your hands around his neck and clutch.

evergreen nudged the boys knowing it was their cue to leave, evergreen sent you a wink over her shoulder as she left with bickslow and freed "try to act civil you two we're in the guild after all."

within seconds laxus pulled you onto his lap clearly ignoring evergreen's words of wisdom. he rested his hands on your waist to support you, and he smiled up at you with a gleam in his eyes. his hands roamed your body as they moved down to your hips, he pulled you closer to him your body was flush against his and he whispered in your ear “that was a dirty move you pulled using your nails like that.” his voice sent shivers down your spine, the way he whispered those words just for you to hear despite the empty room, if there was one thing he knew how to do it was how to leave an effect on you.

you fiddled with the hair on the nape of his neck knowing how it affects him “it was just a harmless massage, you were the one who told me to give you one after all.” you gently dragged your nails from his neck into his hair, grazing your nails into his scalp, grinning when he hummed at your touch.

“you play a dangerous game y/n. we’ve got a couple more hours till the day ends let’s make it count.”

#laxus x reader #laxus dreyar x reader #fairy tail x reader #fairy tail x you #fairy tail x y/n #laxus x you #laxus x y/n #laxus dreyar x y/n #laxus dreyar x you

[midnightmoonytales]

𝕊𝕝𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟 𝔾𝕒𝕟𝕘 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

A/n: Have I been swamped with schoolwork all week? Yes. Am I writing instead of doing my assignments? Yes. Also, I am working on the request in my inbox, they just take me a little longer to get out than a quick skit or headcanon.

Summary: The Slytherin gang as different Stiles's Stilinski scenes from Teen Wolf

<><><>

Draco after the others were asking him a simple question and answered in an unconventional: "I'm 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bone, ok."

Draco: "Sarcasm is my only defense."

<><><>

Mattheo: "You called the others before you called us!"

Pansy: "I'm supposed to call you first when I find a dead body?"

Everyone: YES!

<><><>

Blaise: "Now what should we do about the 20ft wall of windows!?"

<><><>

Draco: "A Dead Body!?"

Y/N: "No, a body of water"

Y/N: "Yes, dumbass, a dead body!"

<><><>

Theodore: "It's Theo, call me Theo or I swear to Godric, I'll kill you"

<><><>

Theodore and Mattheo being caught by McGonagall after doing some dumb shit.

Theodore: "It depends on how you define lying."

McGonagall: "Well, I define it as not telling the truth."

McGonagall: "How do you define it? "

Theodore: "Pshhh...reclining your body in a horizontal position..."

<><><>

Y/n talking about Theodore: "Uh...He's failing two classes"

Y/n: " A little socially awkward,"

Y/n: "And if you kind of look close enough his jawline is uneven"

<><><>

Pansy after everyone found Theodore passed out in the rain: Well, what's wrong with him?"

Y/n, pocking his unconscious body with a stick: "What's wrong with him? I don't-"

Y/n: "Do I have a Ph.D. in unconsciousness? How am I supposed to know?"

<><><>

Draco and Mattheo bickering when the gang was sent out on a mission:

Mattheo, wipes blood off his hands as the others pull Draco up to his feet: "You faint at the sight of blood?"

Draco: "No...but I might at the sight of A CHOPPED OFF ARM!"

<><><>

@ghostofscarley @devilishwitchfantasies

#hp fandom #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #pansy parkinson x reader #pansy parkinson #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott

[bloompompom]

Playthings

One Shot

Pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader

Summary: okay, maybe you could admit you were a little sexually frustrated after a long semester, but it wasn’t your fault that you accidentally walked into the wrong room. and you’d only take some of the blame after you shamelessly came crawling back for more.

Word Count: ~6.8k

Content: explicit sexual content, explicit language, caught masturbating, casual sex, rough sex, dirty talk, porn watching, face fucking, some degradation and objectification, praise kink, quiet sex, panties as a gag, mentions of spit

all that to say, reader discretion advised. this is just a porno. if you were looking for plot, we don’t know her here

It started out normal, just like you had anticipated. Why wouldn’t it be normal? After all, it was just a regular, old Tuesday afternoon. The only thing that made it any more remarkable was that you didn’t have class today. Your professor was gracious enough—in her words, not yours—to cancel today’s session.

Her email included a not-so-gentle reminder, in bold lettering, that your presentations were due on Thursday. She hoped you’d all be smart enough to use this ‘found time’ to make any last-minute adjustments.

You would have much preferred to be dumb, at least by her standards, and squeeze in a nap, just like the rest of your classmates. But, no. You had to use this time to scramble to the finish line because just maybe you thought you had another week before it was due.

You weren’t entirely at fault, though. You were absolutely swamped with school with the end of the semester drawing near. It wasn’t just you, either. The other members of your group—four of you in total—were scraping the bottom of their reserves to try and finish this presentation. You all had other classes that called for more of your limited time and energy—you know, ones that actually pertained to your majors, none of which had anything to do with literature.

Who would have guessed that an introduction—extra emphasis on that word—to fiction class could be so much work? So much for your supposedly guaranteed easy A. It was a general elective, damn it! It served no other purpose than to tick that little box next to your degree requirement. Yes, I have three literature credits, and I read the books to prove it.

Well, half-read. Skimming, to put it nicely. Sorry, Wuthering Heights, for the bastardized synopsis that you were about to present.

All of which was to say, that was how you found yourself here, huddled together on this Tuesday afternoon, noses buried deep into your respective laptops, as you tried to put together a halfway decent presentation.

It was a warm day. You could tell even from inside. It was the kind of day where the sun clung to your body like a sheet, begging you to stay just a little longer to enjoy the afterglow. You wanted to listen, but you were forced to take turns lounging in front of the fan, stuttering as it only pretended to cool the room.

Your patience grew thinner by the minute, with every cramp and crack of your fingers and bead of sweat that threatened to drip down your back.

This semester, though almost over, was starting to feel like one of those classic scenes you’d find in horror movies. You know the scene: when the protagonist gets trapped in a closet-sized room that slowly fills with water. It was sort of like that, in which this dumb literature class had you gasping for your final breaths of air. And to top it all off, you had another group book report due. How old were you again?

“Sasha!”

You heard Jean hiss just across from you, interrupting the furious sound of clicking keyboards. You turned to look at him, past the coffee table that was decorated with empty energy drink cans and loose chips.

Sasha poked her head up from her laptop, looking innocent as Jean continued, “All your slides say, ‘Weathering Heights.’ Did you even read the book?”

“No, I didn’t! You know that!” she defended, sounding only slightly panicked.

You could see her edits as she made them, your eyes following across the screen. She corrected her slides to ‘Wuthered Heights,’ and you swore you could see the steam pouring from Jean’s ears. The only thing Sasha knew about any of your assigned readings was what she could find on Wikipedia—maybe less than that.

To your other side, Armin let out a lengthy sigh. “Let’s leave the editing to those that read the book. Okay, Sasha?” She looked defeated, even when he kept his voice soft, so he chipped in again. “Maybe you can… get us more snacks?”

That seemed to cheer her up enough. She offered him a salute and an, “On it, boss,” as she skittered off to the kitchen.

You had been sitting on the floor, criss-cross applesauce, for the last two hours, and your legs were starting to feel every minute of it. You extended them, one at a time, and listened to the embarrassingly-loud pop of your knees.

On that note, you planted your palms into the rug, pushing yourself to your feet as you asked Armin where to find the bathroom. He pointed you in the right direction, just down the hallway. With each step, you felt the stretch of your legs, and from behind, you heard Jean yelling again.

“You’re seriously ordering pizza?”

Even though you had only met them this semester, it was easy to guess he was scolding Sasha again. It was nothing more than happenstance that you sat next to them that day, the trio that seemed to know each other outside of class. When you were instructed to find groups of four, you were roped in with them in the chaos that was partnering up, always comparable to flocking birds.

You did well enough on that assignment, even with Sasha barely skating by, so you figured you might as well work on the next project together. They were the sort of people you could laugh—loud and hard—with, which probably explained why you were fussing over this presentation now, less than forty-eight hours before its due date.

First door on your right. That’s what Armin said, right?

No, that wasn’t what he said, actually. And you learned your mistake the hard way, too, immediately after opening the door.

Context clues alone, it was easy to guess that you didn’t walk into the bathroom. Of course, you didn’t walk into the bathroom. That would have been too easy, wouldn’t it? No, you walked into Armin’s roommate's room. You didn’t even know he had a roommate, let alone one you could walk in on, phone in one hand, his thing in the other. It didn't feel right to say it if you weren't supposed to see it.

“Oh my God, I’m—” You were so flustered you didn’t even utter the word ‘sorry’ before slamming the door shut again, which was probably for the best.

Your heart was pounding—you felt it echoing hard in your throat—when you looked just across the hall. The door was open and, lo and behold, it was the bathroom.Empty and dark.

You hid inside it, your back pressed against the door. You were mortified—hot with it, too. The apartment was already balmy with sticky spring air, leaving you flushed in all the wrong places as you debated running from the apartment, never to return.

You still had to pee, so you did that, spinning through every emotion all the while—like one of those ridiculously-large gameshow wheels you had to spin with both hands. Tick, tick, tick… tick. Suddenly, you were berating yourself. First door on the left. You’re such an idiot! Spin again. Tick, tick, tick… tick. The wheel stopped, and you shifted the blame. Shouldn’t he have known Armin had company over?

You stayed put on the toilet like there weren’t people waiting on you back in the living room. You were still thinking about him. That guy across the hall. What else were you supposed to think about? It wasn’t like you could go back out there as if it were still some regular, old Tuesday.

For obvious reasons, you didn’t see much of him. The image in your head was more like a photograph captured by a shaky hand. He was a blur of brown hair. White on top, black bottoms, cut in half by a tanned midsection that you only caught a glimpse of—right before he grabbed his blanket and you retreated to the bathroom.

If you thought hard enough—and embarrassingly, you did—you could see it again. See him again, with his hand wrapped around himself.

It was so wrong to think of him, a stranger, like that. There was a burning pit in your stomach when you thought of the indecency of it, fantasizing about someone in their most vulnerable state, without their permission.

You couldn’t help it, though. Just like how you couldn’t help the way your thighs clenched together the longer you thought about it.

The image you created in your mind was much lewder than what you had actually witnessed. While you couldn’t even pick his face out of a line-up, you still imagined his lips, how he’d bite into them as he pumped his cock through his climax. Toned legs, revealed by his pants that he had only tugged to his knees because, in the heat of it, he couldn’t be bothered to take them off fully.

You wiped again because you were getting shamefully wetter with every passing second. Then, for some insane reason, you felt the urge to apologize to him. Surely, that was the only solution to make this less awkward; you had yourself fully convinced of it for a split second.

You still didn’t know what came over you, but you pocketed your underwear before pulling your shorts back up. They almost didn’t fit, what with how small your shorts were, but you made it work.

You washed your hands, thinking that, admittedly, this wasn’t one of your brightest ideas. Your cotton shorts would unavoidably slip to the side if you were to return to your spot on the rug. But if this went the way you were hoping it would, you wanted to be thoughtful enough to grant easy access.

Then, if he needed a helping hand—pun intended—you would slip him your underwear, as if that were any less shameless than saying the words, ‘I would like you to fuck me now. If you’re interested, of course.’

It was in that same split second that you knocked on the door. The one just across the hall. The first door on the right. His door.

You wouldn’t call yourself naive, even in the slightest. You knew that by knocking on his door, you were risking the chance of something happening. What exactly, you weren’t sure, but you didn’t just have your panties shoved into your pocket for no good reason.

Your confidence started to wane, and it was quickly replaced by a sinking feeling. The timing was rather unfortunate, wasn’t it? It was as if the sound of your knuckles against the wood dragged you back to reality.

The door opened before you could even think of something to say. You should have had it planned out more, considering you spent the last five minutes contemplating your existence on the toilet. You were immediately consumed with how weird this was—how weird you had made it, just by showing your face again.

You found him a bit dazzling, looking up at him gave you the same feeling as when you stared into a bright light for too long. You blinked just the same, too, as if he had you seeing stars. Or you were going to pass out from humiliation.

It wasn’t like you were meeting under normal circumstances. You didn’t casually run into him at a bar, though you would have much preferred spilling your drink on him to whatever this was. You were only reminded of what happened when you noted that his cheeks were still stained pink. Whether it was from embarrassment or something else—like the telling blush of arousal—you weren’t sure.

All the same, he reduced you to nothing more than a moony teenage girl. You were fixed on his eyes. Green, but you were unable to distinguish the shade because you were lost in him again—the version of him you created in your head. You wanted to see if that version truly existed; how he’d look when he came from your touch instead of his own.

Your voice was mangled and lost in your throat. Like an opossum, it was just as if you had summoned him only to play dead at his feet. You tried not to crumble—swallowing your saliva that ran thick—even when he stuck his head out into the hallway, looking around as if he were on an episode of Punk’d.

He asked, “Is this some kind of joke?” to no one in particular, but he spoke like he really wanted to ask, ‘Where the fuck did this chick come from?’

“No, no!” you tried to assure him with the frantic wave of your hands. The flightiness in your voice only made you more nervous because now he knew you were nervous. You found just enough sense to introduce yourself, slowing your voice as you explained, “I’m working on a project with Armin.”

You could see it in his eyes, the fleeting second that it clicked for him. It didn’t last long, though. His brows were quick to furrow again because that still didn’t explain why you were here. Why you had just walked in on him—

“Can I come in?” you asked. You were looking for any sliver of reassurance in his answer. Something to help you decide whether or not you were going to hand him your panties.

This all sounded so absurd, didn’t it? Like something out of a bad porno—probably no different than the one you caught him watching.

He didn’t look sold on the idea, still eyeing you like this was all part of an elaborate prank. Even so, you could tell that, at the very least, his curiosity was piqued. He eventually stepped aside, holding the door open for you, like he had no other choice but to entertain the idea.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you said as you made your way inside. You heard him close the door behind you, and you tried not to infer any meaning from it. He walked past you, placing himself between you and the bed. “For earlier.”

“Okay.”

There was a prickle of awkwardness. You felt yourself shrinking when you muttered, “And for this, I guess.”

You couldn’t read his expression. It was like he wanted you to get out but also… not? He looked at you the way one would look at an abstract painting. Like he was trying to get you, as if you were open to his interpretation.

Then again, you did just show up at his door, practically begging for more after stealing only a glimpse at his cock. He probably found you desperate and, right now, you weren’t above admitting that you were.

He looked at you like he was still trying to figure you out, as if it were possible from just a single look. His eyes didn’t carry the same boredom they did when he first opened the door, and the pink sheen on his cheeks had disappeared, too, telling you embarrassment must have been its cause.

He surely didn’t look embarrassed anymore. He sat on the corner of his bed, one leg bent at the knee and resting beside him, and the other hanging off the side. It was like you were sharpening the image you had in your head the longer you looked at him. You could see now that he was dressed in a white tee—covering his midsection this time—and a pair of black basketball shorts. His brunette hair was messily tied back in a way that had you wondering if it was ever neat to begin with.

Something about the sight didn’t sit right with you, even if all the parts you wanted to see were covered and forbidden. It was the sort of look that was too intimate to be shared between strangers, and more like something that had to wait for a second date, at least.

But you weren’t sure why you were thinking like that in the first place.

Much to your dismay, you were still fidgeting. It made you sound even more squirrely as you said, “That’s it, I guess.”

You didn’t need to say it. You could have just excused yourself after your flimsy apology. But you were still interested—and only because you knew he was still interested. It was apparent to you because, from this angle, you could see he was still hard. There was no way he was wearing any boxers.

And just as poorly as he tried to hide it, you failed to hide the way you let your eyes linger there. It was hard—no pun intended this time—not to. There was a lot going through your head, but the most blaring sign, flashing in big lights, told you this was about to become the best mistake you had ever made.

It was only confirmed when he said, “I don’t know if you are.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t look very sorry to me.” His eyes, now darkened, looked you up and down, only once, like he was sizing you up. “How about you come here and show me just how sorry you really are.”

There was a newfound gravel to his voice. You could feel it in your chest, thumping just around your racing heart. It lured you to him.

He talked like he knew how to fuck, and you really, really needed a good fuck—as if it could unburden you from a semester’s worth of stress. Where else were you going to find such a sinfully hot guy, hard and already riled up, like he was put here just to (fingers crossed) fuck you senselessly into his mattress.

You thought of the underwear that was still in your pocket. Before you could decide what to do with it, he beat you to it, like he knew it was there all along. He gave you a smile, one that said he had only let you think you were in control.

'How silly of you,' was what it sounded like when he said, “That’s what I thought.”

He balled the dainty fabric in his hand before tossing it aside. He seemed much more interested in you—taking you by the hips and pulling you onto his lap. He was strong. You could tell just by the way he held onto you, like he could bend and break you if he pleased.

The strength in his hands alone was enough for you to brush off the cockiness in his voice. But even more, you felt how badly he wanted this—perhaps even more than you did—in his touch, like fire underneath his fingertips. Not that it surprised you, of course. He was the one fisting his cock not even ten minutes ago.

But now, it was like you had dropped straight from heaven and right into his lap, quite literally. And as you lowered yourself onto him, the heat between your legs pressed up against his cock, you caught the beautiful groan he let slip.

You ground against him helplessly, letting yourself feel every inch of him through his shorts. His hands, resting on the tops of your thighs, dug into the plush of them as he dragged you over him. It was enough to pull a whine from you—even louder once he placed a hand on your back, flattening against it to pull you into him. You collided, his mouth on your neck. He made quick work of the delicate skin like he knew exactly where you liked to be kissed and where he should bite.

He didn’t shush you, but it lurked in your mind that his friends were just on the other side of his bedroom wall. But he didn’t seem to care, even with all your whimpers as he continued kissing your neck. He stayed there for a long time before ever kissing your mouth. Not that you could complain. You were lost in the delirious feeling of his lips, hot and wet, trailing down the side of your throat, dipping down to the spot near your collarbone that had you squirming already.

You wanted your shorts off, but you knew it would be difficult from this position. He knew it, too, which was why he told you, “Stand up,” between his nibbles at your ear lobe.

You did as you were told and stood just between his legs. His hands smoothed over your hips, taking your shirt along with him. He was at eye level with your bare stomach, leaving kisses there. One at a time, he replaced his hands with yours, having you hold your shirt up for him. You watched as he slowly inched off your shorts, kissing everywhere—your stomach, your hip bones, your thighs—but the place you needed him most. When you felt your shorts at your ankles, he pulled you right back onto his lap, like he thought you belonged there.

The only thing separating you was his thin basketball shorts. You wanted to undress him next, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry, with his fingertips tickling up your thighs. He only stopped to slip a teasing finger along the crease. You giggled at it, and it was the first time he heard your laugh. The sound was swallowed up by him, the unexpected plush of his lips now on yours. You liked them better here—on your mouth.

He kissed with just as much passion as you imagined, with his hand—the one that wasn’t tickling between your legs—cupping your jaw. He held you close, his tongue brushing past your lips to meet yours. You were really lost in him now, your hips aimlessly searching for his fingers—for anything.

You separated an inch, just for him to whisper to you, “I want you to get yourself off on my fingers first.” He tilted his chin down with unspoken gentleness. In the same cadence one would use to ask for permission, he asked, “Can you do that for me?”

He waited for you to nod, looking more like a bobblehead because if he didn’t touch you soon you might die. He rubbed your clit with languid circles, watching how you twitched when he grazed over a certain spot. When he quickened his touch, you collapsed your weight into his chest. It left you in the prime position to bite down on his shoulder, just to stifle your moans, as he dipped a finger inside you.

Already, there was a bubble, as hot as an iron, brewing low in your stomach. You rolled your hips in rhythm with the pumping of his fingers—now a second one inside you—with the heel of his palm adding pressure perfectly against your clit.

You tossed your head back when you came, another cry escaping past your lips. It was loud enough that he finally reacted to it, silencing it only by shoving something soft into your mouth. When you opened your eyes again, you recognized the black fabric of your underwear.

You were still riding out your orgasm—drool soaking through your panties—or else you would have taken them from your mouth. Instead, you kept your hands occupied by digging the blunt of your nails into his arms, looking for any sense of stability before you went limp in his arms.

“You gotta be quieter than that if you want to come again,” he told you. You only acknowledged it with another needy whimper.

He held you upright in his lap before laying you on the mattress beside him, like you were nothing more than a plaything. But you were fine with that. You wanted to be his plaything, just for now.

You went to take the underwear from your mouth, but he stopped you just before with his hand around your wrist.

“Promise you’ll be quiet for me?” he asked, his voice dulcet. You nodded, again like a bobblehead, and he took the panties from your mouth. He let his thumb caress over your cheek as he said, “Good.”

He tugged his shirt over his head. You ogled at what you could before he crawled over you, placing a hand on either side of your head to hold himself up.

His eyes were heavy-lidded with desire, following yours as you trailed your hand down the length of his body. You let them dawdle over his toned stomach before palming over his cock, which you hoped to see again very soon. You felt him twitch from just your hand alone, and it had you wondering how sensitive he’d be to your tongue.

When your fingers met the waistband of his shorts, you began shimming lower so you could take him into your mouth. He stopped you just short of freeing his length. You looked up at him, big-eyed and curiously, because what guy could possibly turn down a blow job?

He was back on his feet, towering over you as he stood at the side of the bed. He was quick to find his phone, and when he unlocked it, you heard the muffled sounds of whatever porn he had been watching.

You propped yourself onto your elbows to see whatever it was he wanted to show you. He took your interest as an okay to show you the screen. On it was a woman, stretched on her back, with her head dangling from the bed. There was a man fucking her throat, garbling her wanton moans as he fingered her.

“I want you to do it for me just like this,” he told you before throwing his phone aside. It was useless to him now; he had the real thing. His hands found you again, the warmth of your stomach. His fingers slipped higher underneath your shirt. “Think you can handle that?”

You were beyond turned on by the thought of him stroking himself to this video earlier. Now, here you were—once again, straight out of heaven—like you were made just to fulfill his fantasies. But, God, the thought of him ruining you had you aching.

You answered him by stripping from your shirt. Your bra next, undoing its clasp and tossing it aside, all in one swift motion. You would gift him with the lovely sight—your body in its entirety—as you sucked him off.

But before that, he wanted you. Just a little taste.

He leaned over you, kissing between your breasts and everywhere else that he could. You felt the heat of his breath on your nipple, just before he took it into his mouth. His tongue was hot as he flicked at it, sucking until he had your back arching, with mewls spilling from your lips.

He kept you there, only for a moment, and only long enough that he could leave his mark on you. When he was finally satisfied with the number of love bites he had decorated you with, he rolled you around until you mimicked the woman in the video, your mouth gaping for him and everything. You even lolled your tongue out, eager to please a man you had just met—more importantly, a man that just made you come and planned to do so again very soon.

One of his hands was at your face, his fingers gently caressing the soft skin beneath your chin. He ran his thumb over your tongue, letting you give it a coquettish lick. He used his other hand to yank down his shorts, all the way off this time.

You were right when you guessed he wasn't wearing boxers. His cock sprung out, nearly slapping his abdomen, before he took it in his hands. He pumped himself twice, and when he lined himself up with your mouth, you wondered if it was the angle or if you were truly going to struggle to take him fully.

He ran the tip over your lips. You wetted them for him, making it easy for him to slip into your mouth. He groaned at the feeling—even sharper when you hollowed your cheeks around him, and that was only the head. He was just as sensitive as you had hoped.

You could feel his restraint when he pushed deeper into your throat, like he was painfully aware of the fact that you were completely at his mercy. You encouraged him, offering a few moans with every thrust. He used the first few as a test, like he wanted to make sure you could really take it, then he pulled out of your mouth with a conspicuous popping sound. There was even a cliche string of saliva connecting the two of you.

“Fuck—that’s so hot,” he muttered, his voice so raspy that it was almost missing. It was the first break in his composure, along with the shudder he let rip through his body.

You met his eyes again, staring up at him as you patiently wait for him to give you more. He rewarded your obediency by ramming his cock back into your mouth, gaining speed with every rock of his hips. It only took a couple more before you felt him at the back of your throat.

“I knew you could—ah—do it for me, pretty girl.” His voice was encouraging, like you could hear the swell of his heart. It was sweeter than any sonnet, having you melt even as he fucked your face until you felt tears pool at the corners of your eyes.

It was clear he was loving it, with how his hands went heavy as he slid them down your stomach. How his abs went tight every time you gagged on his cock. Even from upside down, with loose hairs casting over his lidded eyes, you still found him beautiful.

What a strange thing to say, considering he continued to brutalize your swollen mouth. All the same, he had you rubbing your legs together as if you were in heat, but it only left your thighs sticky with your slick.

He leaned over you, helping you out by reaching between your legs in search of your clit again. You heard him curse again, just under his breath. Whether it was from your cries—suffocated by his cock—or just how wet you were for him, you weren’t sure. The only thing you knew was that if he kept this up, you were bound to come undone again any second.

He must have felt it, too, because all at once, he pulled out from your mouth. It left you coughing like you suddenly remembered how to breathe again. Still, you mourned the loss of his fingers.

He caught the pout on your lips. It shouldn’t have made him smile, but it did, even as he teased, “Such a needy one, aren’t you?” He ran his fingers over your mouth like he could wipe away the frown. “You’re far too precious to suffocate.”

You whined at that, and you would have found it embarrassing if you weren’t so desperate, practically begging him to fuck you—now—with the kittenish way you rolled around until you were on your back.

Your eyes followed his hand as it reached into the drawer of his nightstand. He retrieved a condom and tore open its package, his attention never leaving you once. He looked pleased by it—your eagerness—how you spread your thighs only to keep him caged between, with your legs draped over the side of the bed. The smile at the corner of his lips still hadn’t faded.

You could only watch him, mesmerized as he rolled the condom over his length—impressive enough that you felt proud to have had all of it down your throat just a moment ago.

He knew you were there to give him exactly what he wanted. And when he cajoled you with, “Hold them for me—like this,” he knew you’d listen.

He lifted each of your thighs and pressed them into your chest. With your knees nearing your shoulders, you knew what to do next. You wrapped your hands around the backs of your legs and held them in place for him.

“That’s it,” he cooed, taking you by the waist and setting you farther back onto the bed. “Look how pretty.”

He walked his hands up either side of you until crawled onto the bed, hovering just above you with his weight shifted back to his knees. He guided himself to your entrance with one hand, letting the tip of the condom slip between you, teasing your clit just enough to have you pull in a harsh breath through your nose.

“So fucking pretty—” He pushed himself inside you. There was little resistance, like you had turned to putty and were somehow able to mold yourself to take him perfectly. Your head pressed deeper into the mattress, with him kissing up the expanse of your leg, just above your ankle. “—and all for me.”

You felt him flush against you, his pelvis grinding against your clit in just the right way. You fought the urge to lock your legs around him to keep him there, your voice nothing more than a whisper when you begged, “Fuck—don’t stop.”

He took you then. Madly, recklessly, agonizingly—whatever you wanted to call it—it was a frenzied mess of limbs and lips, sweat and sheets, flesh and groans. It was all of the best parts of being tangled up in someone. You wanted him, every bit of him, to taste and to touch, as if he wasn’t already as close to you as humanly possible.

He groaned in your ear, his breath fanning the side of your face. Like he could read your thoughts, he told you, “I want to feel you.” He dragged his cock from you, slowly, then punctuated his next statement with the snap of his hips, forcing you even higher onto the bed. “I want to fuck you raw.”

The words alone were enough to have you teetering over the edge again, but you were practically a babbling mess at the sound of his voice—all strangled as he nearly begged for it. The only thing you could manage now was a breathless chant of please, please, please.

After the third one, he looked at you more seriously. You found it cute, how his brows hung pensively over his eyes. It was much more boyish and suited his face more. “Birth control?”

You still didn’t have enough oxygen in your lungs to form anything more than, “The pill.”

“Clean?” he asked next. He sat back on his knees, waiting until you nodded. “Me too.”

Only then did he roll off of you. He moved to sit on the bed with his back to the headboard. Even after all that, his arms were still steady as he lifted you. In one swoop, you were back on his lap—so effortlessly that he had you believing you belonged there now, too.

With your arms wrapped around his neck, you pulled him to your chest because you missed having his lips there. He didn’t fight it, letting his tongue and lips and teeth explore every inch of you, his face smushed in your tits.

You let him continue long enough for him to ditch the condom. You reached down, stroking him a few times with your hand. He reacted to it—what a gift it was that there was nothing separating you again—with a hard inhale just through his nose.

You held him at the base to guide his cock inside you. As leisurely as one would stroll through the park—as if you had all the time in the world to stop and smell the roses, wait for every groan that bubbled at the back of his throat—you sank onto his cock. It gave way for another break in his cool composure.

You watched it as it happened—the very look, right as it skipped across his irises. It was followed by a breathless sound, one that lived somewhere between a chuckle and gasp, that slipped past his slack-jaw smile.

You couldn’t help but smile, too, thinking he looked drunk off the feeling—even more once you sat high again only to crash back onto him. Then again, and again. Quicker and quicker, until you were bouncing on his cock with your hands flattened against the headboard for support.

He reached a different angle in this position, deeper, and it had you almost trembling above him. He let you continue to use him, anyway you wanted, admiring where he disappeared inside you.

As if you weren’t the one controlling your fingers, you let your hand slip between your legs to aid your release. You felt all your blood rush to your face, flooding you with sweltering heat, and it became a challenge to keep your hips from sputtering.

Your only focus was on your high—like you had become dumb to anything else—and it was quickly approaching. Your shaky breaths melted into choked sobs just as he pushed two fingers, index and middle, into your mouth.

He pressed down on your tongue. “You don’t want them to hear you like this, do you?”

You looked at him, eyes wide and dedicated only to him, as you sucked his fingers instinctively. He smirked at you when he said, “Pathetic, little thing.”

You came again. Your orgasm crashed over you, with every muscle shaking and tensing before you could barely even hold yourself up anymore.

His finger left your mouth. They were wet, dribbling spit along your cheek, as he held your face in his hand. He turned you to look at him when he said, “What do you say?”

Almost like you had said it a million times before, you didn’t hesitate to murmur, “T-thank you.”

He hummed, “You’re such a good toy.”

He sunk down into the bed, his head now on the pillows. He grabbed your hips with bruising force, just before you could fall pliant over him. As if to say, ‘Now it’s my turn,’ he held you still while he fucked up into you, his feet planted firmly into the mattress.

He couldn’t stop your sounds this time. They spilled freely from you, even as you bit your lip so hard you must have drawn blood, still sensitive from your orgasm as he pounded into you. It nearly had you seeing stars, like you were blind from the pleasure of letting him have you.

He was close, you could hear it in his erratic breaths just before he grunted, “You gonna let me come in you? Shit—you want me to fill you up?”

“Yes—” you whined.

“Yes, what?”

“I want you to come in me—please!”

He didn’t let up. His thrusts were still just as unrelenting as he looked up at you sardonically. “You wanna go back out there with my come dripping from you?”

All you could too was give him a slurred, ‘hmmph!’

“So dirty. You’re gonna make a mess of yourself.” He snapped his hips a few times like he could bury even deeper into you. It brought out a certain gruff in his voice as he told you, “Don’t think that I’m giving back those panties.”

It took just one more buck of his hips, hitting just the right spot, for him to nearly knock out your last breath. You collapsed onto him, your bodies sticky with sweat, as you nestled your face into the crook of his shoulder. You were within perfect earshot of listening to his sharp grunts as he came.

His last few thrusts were languid. Long and slow strokes like he wanted to draw out the feeling. You couldn’t even open your eyes, let alone hold onto a single coherent thought, before you whispered, “Thank you.”

The thought of you thanking him for his come pulled another groan from him. You felt his cock jolt inside you. If he hadn’t just given you everything he had, you were sure he’d be hard again.

You didn’t know where your clothes were, and you couldn’t be bothered to care. You laid beside him, each of you on your backs, with chests as heavy as anvils as you gathered your tattered breaths.

You looked over at him, and he was already looking back at you. It was a moment of stillness. His eyes weren’t as dark as they once were—sort of like he was a different person. You couldn’t help but think he looked perfect like that.

He sounded different, too. Almost embarrassed. You heard it in the hint of a chuckle he offered, just at the end, when he asked, “What did you say your name was again?” You gave him your name, and he repeated it once to himself. “Got it. I’ll remember that for next time.”

“Next time?”

“You think I’m gonna fuck you like that then just let walk out of my life? No fucking way.” That smile was back—the big one he showed you when you learned he liked when you sat on his cock slowly.

You laughed a little, mirroring some of his bashfulness, as reality started to sink in. You finally confessed, “I don’t think I caught your name.”

“It’s Eren.”

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut

[lazycats-stuff]

Bruce Wayne x male!reader

Another teacher oneshot! I want to write more, maybe about how the press found out.

Summary: Bruce and (Y/N) are together for a year now, without the press finding out. But one day that changes and press get the wind of it.

Warnings: Press being invasive, people saying that (Y/N) is cute, Bruce being protective.

(Y/N) smiled as he sat at the back of the manor, the side where there was just a clearing. watching boys running around, playing football. (Y/N) was wrapped in a blanket, due to the wind that was blowing, with a cup of hot chocolate in his hands. He wasn't a person to play sports, but he was more than happy to cheer them on.

He took a sip of his warm drink and looked at Alfred who sat down next to him.

" Do you need another blanket master (Y/N)? "

" No, Alfred thank you. And please just call me (Y/N), the title of a master makes me feel rich. "

Alfred simply nodded, but (Y/N) knew that Alfred would refer to him with the 'master' title. He shook his head in amusement and went back to look at his boyfriend. Bruce was wearing a grey shirt, that clung to him because of the sweat, but what made his mouth water were Bruce's muscles. Sure, it seems superficial, but he loved them. He felt safe wrapped in those arms, especially when Bruce got back from patrol.

" How about a break gentlemen? " Alfred yelled out, seeing how they were getting tired.

" Sure Alfred. " Bruce said, jogging towards his beloved. (Y/N) knew what Bruce's intention were.

" Bruce, I love you, but no kisses while you are sweaty. "

Bruce actually pouted, but complied. He took a sip of water, then glanced back at his boyfriend.

" Bruce, no. Shower first then you can kiss me. No ifs or buts. "

Bruce pouted once more, looking like a kicked puppy. The boys snickered at their father's reaction.

" Fine, you win. Guys, eat something. You wait here hun. "

Bruce left and the boys couldn't help but comment.

" You know (Y/N), I have never seen Bruce so whipped for somebody. And I have been with him the longest here. " Dick commented, smiling.

" I agree. Father is whipped for you. " Damian said, taking a sip of his water.

" I would say a simp. " Jason said.

Tim rolled his eyes at the name. (Y/N) simply hummed, fully aware of the meaning behind that word. He wanted to keep up with his students, so he took it upon himself to learn their slang. Urban dictionary was a good help.

" Tim, Jason is not really wrong. Bruce is always ready to take his credit card and simply buy me whatever I glanced at. I looked at Stephen King's book It. A simple glance. What I found the next day, in my room, with a rose and a note saying and I quote: ' Have a good day at work my darling. Your beloved Bruce. ' "

" I remember when you hid his wallet once, you were swamped with gits. I also remember, you said something about giving something for us before the Christmas break. You said something about like something small, like some candy and what not. " Damian remembered.

" And your father got me enough candy for the entire school. I don't think any of you realize how hard it is to explain to your coworkers how you could afford it. " (Y/N) snickered at the memory.

The boys chuckled quietly at that. But that sealed (Y/N)'s spot as the favorite teacher of the school.

" But you position as the best teacher in school was solified. " Dick added, sitting down on the chair.

" Really? " (Y/N), furrowing his eyebrows, looking at the boys as if they grew a second head. he was aware that the students liked him, he was a chill professor, but still wanted their best and always helped those who needed extra help... But he didn't think he was the best teacher there.

" Yup. We would never lie to you. " Jason said, taking a bite of the sandwich.

" I mean, you help us out with our assignments and you proofread them. " Jason said, cringing at the thought of his past assignments. Jesus Christ, how did he pass all of that?

" Don't cringe at the past assignments Jason, you came a long way. "

Jason wanted to say something, but smirked, looking behind (Y/N)'s shoulder.

" Okay, I showered, now there is no escape. " Bruce said, lifting (Y/N) up to sit him in his lap. (Y/N) yelped and bushed.

" My God Bruce, you are like a golden retriever and a cat mixed all in one. "

Bruce gave (Y/N) a kiss on the cheek and squeezed him a bit tighter. (Y/N) huffed, but leaned back on Bruce. He was so warm, ready to drift off.

(Y/N) sighed as he got into the faculty room. His coworkers were all acting as if they were teenagers.

" Okay, is anybody going to tell me what is going on or do I have to turn into Sherlock Holmes? " (Y/N) asked, not having a clue.

" Oh, just this. " JJ said, opening something on his phone. He handed (Y/N) the phone and he nearly died of shock. It was from a tabloid, revealing (Y/N)'s and Bruce's relationship to the world. There were pictures from their date recently... Bastards...

" Why didn't you tell us you started dating again? " Kaylee asked him, all happy for him.

(Y/N) was numb as he gave the phone back. He took a deep breath and excused himself from the room. He took his phone out and called Bruce. He went to a closet and waited for Bruce picked up.

" Hey hun, I know, I read it too. My PR team and I are working on it. I'm sorry. " Bruce apologized, feeling awful.

He can take the heat of the press, but (Y/N) can't. He was never in the spotlight and Bruce liked it. He wasn't ashamed of his lover, he wanted to show him off, but on (Y/N)'s terms. Not in the press'.

" It's not your fault Bruce, I should have known that this day would have come. "

" No, don't say that, you and I should have gone public on your accord. I can always leave earlier from work and pick you up. Do you need me to pick me up? "

(Y/N) smiled at Bruce's proposition.

" Pick me up at 3:30 then, I am substituting today. "

" Will do. Did your coworkers say anything about... Us? "

" Only good things B. "

" Okay. Somebody tries to do something, call me. Okay? "

" Okay Bruce. I love you. " (Y/N) said, smiling like an idiot.

" I love you too hun. "

(Y/N) hanged up and went back to the faculty room. He took a deep breath before entering. Everyone looked at him and JJ looked sad, regretful even.

" JJ, it's not your fault. I'm not mad, just shocked that the news got out. "

JJ nodded.

" Is he treating you well? "Kaylee asked.

" He is. "

" Good. He better. "

(Y/N) smiled.

" And we are not judging you based on your sexuality. " Tamara, the principal said, taking a cup of coffee.

" Anyone tries to, come to us. " Kaylee added.

(Y/N) nodded, taking a cup of warm coffee from JJ.

" So... When did this start? " JJ asked.

" A year and a half ago. " (Y/N) answered, sitting at the desk in the center of the room.

Kaylee smiled and gave him a side hug.

" I am happy for you. If my work bestie is happy, then so am I. But I want to meet him. He needs to know that if he hurts you, we will come after him. " Kaylee said, a dark look going through her eyes.

" Okay, lets not go there. " (Y/N) said.

" If you say so. "

And true to his word, Bruce picked him up at 3:30 exactly. And with the press, who were there watching taking photos and trying to get their attention.

Bruce was leaning on the front of his car, ignoring the press, simply waiting for his boyfriend to come out.

And once he did, he lit up. He stood up, fixed his posture and when (Y/N) was close, he brought him into a hug. (Y/N) didn't mind at all, but they need talk about the press.

" I know, lets go home. " Bruce said, as if he read his mind, pulling away and opening the door for his boyfriend.

And once they were home, they could relax. Well, everyone expect (Y/N). He was stressed out now.

" Hun? Are you okay? " Bruce asked, gently taking him into his arms on the sofa.

" I'm just... Really stressed... And tired. " (Y/N) replied, leaning back into Bruce, tracing random patterns on his forearm.

" I know, I'm sorry. "

" Bruce, it's not your fault. It's theirs. They have no concept of privacy... Bastards. " (Y/N) muttered.

" Hey guys, I will be quick, you are trending on Twitter. Bruce for being with a man and (Y/N) for... " Dick trailed off, not knowing how to finish his sentence.

" For what Dick? " Bruce asked, anger and possessiveness clawing at his chest. He brought (Y/N) closer, nuzzling the crook of his neck.

" For his looks. People are saying that he is cute, hot, adorable... Nothing bad for now. "

Bruce hummed, a bit shocked, knowing how people are judgmental, so the positivity shocked him. Not the fact that (Y/N) is hot, adorable.

" Really? " (Y/N) asked, brows furrowing.

" Yes. Just wanted to let you know. They are saying that you two look adorable. " Dick said, leaving the room. He needs to finish his homework before patrol.

" Huh. " (Y/N) said, after a minute.

" A good huh, or... "

" A good one. "

Bruce sighed in relief. Okay. This is good.

" Would you like me to make a statement? " Bruce asked his lover, giving him a gentle kiss on the back of (Y/N)'s neck.

" Over what? "

" I don't know. Maybe post a picture of us or you, and write something. Or just write a Tweet, but that won't do any justice. "

" So Instagram? "

" I have a great picture of you. And you will be involved in writing it. I need an English major for this. "

" You got it Bruce. "

And they did just that. Bruce posted what he considered to be a beautiful photo of (Y/N), the one where he was laughing at something, on the sofa.

And in the caption:

' I have always said to the press, leave my loved ones out your headlines. That includes my children and now (Y/N). What the press did was beyond despicable, a complete invasion of privacy of someone who didn't want to be in the spotlight. And I am warning the paparazzies right now. Just like I said before, my kids and (Y/N) are off limits. I am not afraid to use force to protect the people I love. (Y/N), alongside my children are not to be followed around school. I will be dragging you and your companies to court if you do. And I'm not someone you want to get caught with in a legal battle. '

#bruce wayne x male reader #dc x male reader #dc comics #batman x male reader

[praazlwurm]

Giratina's Temple and the Celestica Ruins

aka Giratina/platinum clan theory is back (also sorry for using mspaint lmao)

So we all know about the Shrouded Ruins, yeah?

(This is the only spoiler warning for Pokemon Legends: Arceus you're gonna get)

Spooky. Ever-cloaked in mists and mystery, surrounded by black-stoned cairns like graves and home to the giant Odd Keystone that once (?) housed 108 souls. Very ghost-centric.

Well what if I told you it was a temple?

Greco-roman temples (and, problematic or otherwise the celestica are absolutely greco-roman coded) are constructed relatively uniformly, with an outer later of columns holding up the roof and an inner layer holding up an internal structure, providing additional support, ect.

We have a perfect in-game model to project from, too, in the Temple of Sinnoh (pre-explosion). You can see that some of the smaller columns are sometimes decorative - likely they held up torches or, in the case of the two nearest the 'altar,' offerings

So knowing that style and having the remaining structures we do see in-game, we can approximate a lay out of what the building may have looked like.

What makes this a temple, however, is more open to interpretation. My evidence to support that it is is actually the blue-tinged pedestals seen within the outline of the building - the place(s) of honor in any temple. Irl, the inner structure - the cella - was often fully-walled in, though sometimes this was constructed via wood and other materials that don't withstand time.

Now, ENORMOUS shout-out to pokemaniacchris and the incredible Crimson Mirelands Archeological Survey Project for a really detailed, in-character breakdown of the ruins structures throughout the mirelands. I can only assume the 'surveyors' hadn't reached Mt. Coronet yet in their explorations.

Pedestals like these (at least superficially similar) are found beneath dozens of statues around Mt. Coronet, including beneath Giratina, Palkia and Dialga in the Sacred Plaza area. Now, I know I'm supposed to be claiming that this is a temple to Giratina, but if we work on the assumption that the four pedestals corollate with Giratina, Palkia, Dialga, and Arceus, a new conclusion can, perhaps, be drawn:

That whoever built this temple saw all four of them on the same 'level' of power or -- and this is my hc taking over -- if the statues were placed in a certain orientation (see below) that they saw Arceus and Giratina on equal footing, with Dialga and Palkia one rank below.

And there is, imo, more evidence to support this disruption of the 'creation trio' into two pairs on equal footing, found in the Celestica Ruins! So, among the structures there are two notable, circular buildings that the Greeks also utilized, called tholoi (plural). Irl, tholoi were a mix of secular-use and small-scale temples, and seeing as these two are small (maybe 10ft across inside?) I would maintain the claim that they're small temples.

And they align/mirror each other just as the statues of Palkia and Dialga do.

This part becomes pure conjecture, but I like to think the smaller structures in the ruins might be other small-scale temples for the various mythicals, honoring each much as the Greeks honored a pantheon.

Lastly, the CMASP describes the "Gapejaw Bog Complex" as being potentially an entire agora all its own and I can't agree more. Such evidence would support the idea of there being two groups of Celestica (Note: Not the Clans.)

I actually found myself wondering if the mirelands weren't always quite so swampy, and instead flooded at some point in the past with the depressions around Gapejaw - left by housing foundations - filled in with swamp water.

At the end of the day, I think there's a lot of evidence that the Celestica revered Giratina as well as Arceus, Dialga and Palkia - at least early on. Something happened to cause this schism, and the Old Verses/Plate inscriptions point to an outburst of rage from Giratina -- though, in "pick a god (and pray)" I actually argue it was mispercieved on the part of the Celestica and this misperception is what caused Arceus to despair and withdraw.

Open to discussion!! fellow nerds please interact!!

#pla #pokemon legends arceus #celestica #celestica people #pokemon lore #giratina #arceus #volo #i also think there's a correlation between the ancient hero story's bolts of rage and alphas/hisuian pokemon aggression #specifically my internal timeline is that the schism predates everything purely on the secular/human level #arceus then empowered the noble pokemons' ancestors and fought the hero and believed humans were worthy of his blessing until the celestica #blamed giratina for the rage lightning and shattered the statue and maybe even drove the gira sect out #this dismayed arceus and it withdrew leaving the rage to fade but still linger and make hisui inhospitable #the celestica left (of their own volition imo) to seek out arceus and other knowledge and the clans came after #the clans saw only two statues (palkia and dialga) and picked sides but still upheld the tradition honoring the nobles #i imagine cogita being direct celestica (immortal or otherwise) and volo being gira clan descended or otherwise descended from the diaspora #the celestica then went to sinjoh/johto and so on and so forth #long post #reference

[queenxxxsupreme]

Benevolent Creatures (Jaskier x siren!reader)

A/N: Hi babes!!! I will be posting a little something shortly to just explain a couple things but nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: nothing outside of canon for the Witcher Netflix

Word Count: 4.5k

“Where is Jaskier leading us, Geralt?” Cirilla asked quietly. Geralt looked over his shoulder to where she sat atop Roach.

“I don’t know.” He answered.

Just ahead of them was Jaskier. He strummed his lute as he walked down a narrow path of moss-covered stones.

Ciri’s eyes flickered to her right. Something scurried beneath the underbrush.

“How much longer until we get to wherever it is you’re taking us, Jaskier?” Geralt stepped over a tree root, then guided Roach by the reins over it.

“Not long at all.” The bard spoke over his shoulder. “We’re nearly there.”

“And where exactly is there?” Ciri raised her eyebrows. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

“You’ll see.”

Geralt didn't like how silent everything was. There were no crickets, no frogs, no birds. There was no sign of life anywhere in the swamp.

Roach huffed and whinnied, jerking her head back. Her ears flickered back and forth as if she too was trying to find some sort of sound.

“Shh, girl.” Geralt signed axii, calming her down.

“What’s wrong with her?” Ciri furrowed her brow.

The witcher looked to his Child Surprise, then returned his gaze ahead.

“She knows something isn’t right.” He pulled back a branch from a black willow tree that dangled in the path.

Just a few moments later, the walkway opened up to reveal a pool of water. A wooden bridge that seemed to be decaying crossed over the water and led the way to a small wooden structure on the other side of the pool.

The wooden structure— which appeared to be a home —sat up on wooden stilts four feet off the ground. The front porch wrapped entirely around the home. Green moss and vines of all sorts grew along the sides of the structure, appearing as though it was being engulfed in greenery.

“Jaskier!” Geralt hissed. “What are we doing here?”

“Relax, Geralt.”

As he climbed the stairs to the house, Jaskier straightened out his jerkin and tucked his hair behind his ears. But he decided that having his hair behind his ears wasn’t a good idea and made him appear as though he was trying too hard. So he shook his head out to give himself a bit of a roughened look.

Letting out a breath, Jaskier raised his hand to knock on the door. Before his hand even touched the door, it was pulled open.

You stood just inside your home, a soft smile on your lips.

Without so much as a second thought, the bard embraced you in a firm hug. His arms wrapped around your waist and then around your shoulders. He buried his nose in your hair, inhaling your intoxicatingly sweet scent.

You kissed his neck since that was all you could reach, your fingers grasping his jerkin.

Jaskier pulled away so that he could properly kiss you. His hand found your chin, tilting your head up.

You smiled against his lips. Your hands came up to hold onto either side of his face. The sound of his heart beating quickly filled your ears. It was a familiar sound you always longed to hear.

He pulled away first, blue eyes finding yours.

“You smell odd.” You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked up at him, brushing your thumb across his stubbly cheek.

You couldn’t quite place what he smelled like, but it wasn’t his usual scent. There was someone else laced with him, someone’s scent that made the hair on your neck stand on end.

“Well, I haven’t properly bathed in days— thanks to a series of unfortunate events.”

You opened your mouth to speak, ready to offer him a bath, but you heard movement to your right. You turned your head, eyes landing on the witcher and the child Jaskier had been traveling with.

You could sense her Chaos, the powerful aura radiating off of the girl. But she wasn’t what concerned you.

The white haired witcher carried twin swords on his back. A part of you wondered if they were the same swords he had decades ago. The same swords he used to try to murder you with. The same ones that he used to kill your sister.

A scar on your forearm burned from the sight of the swords. Instinctively, you placed your hand over the scar.

You took a step away from Jaskier, brows drawing together.

“Julian, what is the meaning of this?”

Geralt’s nose scrunched as he realized who you were. Your voice was far too familiar to forget. His medallion trembled, causing him to place his hand over it. The wrinkle between his brow deepened with frustration.

Without any explanation to the girl, he reached an arm out to guide Ciri behind him.

The simple action made you even more tense and unsure of the situation. He was preparing to fight you.

A growl began to vibrate in your chest, animalistic and primal.

“What the fuck, Jaskier!” Geralt demanded, drawing a sword from his back.

As you growled once more, dagger-like claws grew from what had once been human nails on your hands.

The bard came to stand between you both, holding his hands out to either of you.

“No, no! There will be no fighting!”

“Witcher.” You spoke through your teeth.

“What is she?” Ciri asked quietly, her question directed to Geralt.

“Siren.” Geralt let out a breath. He didn’t want to let on that he was worried. Should you choose to do so, you could very easily incapacitate him and slaughter Ciri and Jaskier. “Jaskier, why the fuck have you brought us here?”

“We will be safe here for a little while, Geralt! At least until we can get some sort of plan figured out.”

Your eyes shot to the bard, unaware of his intentions. Never had he brought anyone to your home.

“Ciri will not be staying here.” Geralt told him, yellow eyes finding yours.

Your lip curled up into a snarl. Human teeth were replaced with what looked like dozens of sharp canines.

“Alright, darling.” Jaskier turned to face you, reaching out to place a hand on your arm. You turned and stormed into your home before he could put his hand on you.

“Don’t you dare touch me!”

Jaskier followed quickly behind you.

“Y/N, I don’t—,”

“You brought a witcher here to my home, Julian! And now I cannot stay here!” You spun around to face him. Your chest ached with betrayal.

“My love, my dear heart. Geralt isn’t here to cause you any harm.”

“You can’t see into his mind.” You shook your head, walking away from him once more. “He’s already made his decision and decided my fate.”

“He’s probably made that decision based on what he knows of other beings like you, but my heart, you aren’t like them.” Jaskier took your hand to stop you from moving away from him. “You are different. All you need to do is show him.”

You looked up at him, searching his blue eyes for a few moments.

Gods, you had missed those blue eyes so much.

“I won’t beg a man for my life, Julian.”

You pulled your hands out of his and turned to walk away again. This time, you only made it a few steps before he spoke.

“I’ve told you stories of Geralt before, my sweet. You’ve heard the ballads of our journeys. I am so, so sorry that I brought them here to your home.” His eyes fell down to his hands momentarily. “I wouldn’t have done it if I had any other choice, dear heart. That girl out there, she’s in danger and this is the only place that I know she is safe. And Geralt trusts me, he trusts my judgment enough to allow me to bring her here…. So I-I suppose all I am asking is that you just please, please my love, my heart, trust me as well.”

You looked past him to the front door that was left open. The witcher still stood at the bottom of the stairs that led to the porch.

Your stomach twisted with the idea of letting him into your home, into what was perhaps the only safe place you had left. After what had happened the last time you encountered the witcher, the mighty Butcher of Blaviken, you didn’t even want to be in the same providence as him.

“I do trust you, Julian.” You murmured.

Jaskier kissed your knuckles and then your lips, smiling at you.

“I owe you one.”

“You owe me more than that.” You raised your brows as he took a step away from you.

“Indeed I do.”

***

While Jaskier talked with Geralt and Ciri outside, you busied yourself with straightening a few things in your home.

There was a small stack of books that had grown on the kitchen table. You picked them up and crossed the room to the wall of bookshelves on the opposite side of the room.

“I didn’t think sirens were capable of appearing….” Ciri trailed off as she walked into your home. “Human.”

“They aren’t.” You placed the last book on the shelf. “Sirens are only capable of looking like sirens.”

“But you said she was a siren.” She looked over to Geralt.

“It’s…. complicated, Ciri.”

You crossed your arms, eyes set on Geralt.

“Because something is complicated, you refuse to explain it to her?”

The witcher gritted his teeth together.

“You are standing before what is perhaps the last Nixe on the Continent, Ciri.” Geralt held your gaze. “They were nearly hunted to extinction at the beginning of the century.”

“Why?”

“Because they are extremely dangerous. Far more than the sirens you’ve seen from Skellige.”

You tilted your chin up, trying your damnedest to remain calm and collected while the witcher spoke of the truth he knew.

“Every creature must hunt for their food.” You said. “A lion hunts for its food just the same as a fawn. Doesn’t mean the lion should be killed.”

“Your kind turned into a problem when you began slaughtering hundreds of humans purely for entertainment.”

The tension in the air was thick and uncomfortable as neither you nor the witcher backed down from the glaring contest.

Jaskier clapped his hands together, making you look in his direction.

“Alright! Geralt, let’s go outside.”

“Come on, Ciri—,”

“No, she stays here.” Jaskier pointed to Ciri.

Geralt’s eyes shot over to the bard.

“I am not leaving her here with—,”

“Yes, you are.” Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s arm. “If Y/N wanted to spill blood today, she would have done so already. You know that. Now, outside! Come on!”

You watched as Jaskier ushered Geralt out of your home and closed the door behind himself.

Ciri looked around your home for a couple moments before her green eyes flickered to you.

“How long have you known Jaskier?”

“A while.”

“Geralt said you were dangerous.” Ciri’s blue eyes looked you over. “You don’t look dangerous.”

You wore an off white dress that brushed the floor as you walked. There was a slit up one side of the skirt that came just above mid-thigh. Over the dress was a dark green underbust corset. You wore no shoes, finding the material irritating and the restriction caused by them unbearable. Brown leather bracelets encircled both of your wrists and ankles.

You twisted a ring on one of your fingers as you moved towards the kitchen table.

“Come have a seat, child.”

She sat down across from you, curious to hear what you had to say.

“My kind…. We are very similar to sirens found on the coasts. We both are only women, and we both can produce what you know of as a siren song. But only sirens can fly, and only nixes can shapeshift.”

“That’s how you are able to appear human? By shapeshifting?”

“Yes.” You nodded, rubbing your arm absentmindedly. “Centuries ago, nixes existed just as any other creature. I suppose you could say we are dangerous, but humans are dangerous as well.”

“How are you dangerous?” Ciri tilted her head to the side a little.

“Just as sirens do, nixes hunt humans.”

The girl shifted in her spot, her eyes falling to the deer mandible on the table.

“Don’t worry, child.” You reached over to offer her a comforting hand, but at the last minute, you decided against it. You returned your hand to your lap. “Julian wouldn’t have allowed you here if I was like that.”

“Nixes…. What did Geralt mean when he said nixes kill for entertainment?”

You let out a soft breath.

“Nixes and humans are very similar, dear. Humans kill for pleasure too. They start wars, they slaughter their neighbors…. But my kind, we had a few slip ups where we went too far…. And there was no going back. For that very reason, we were hunted to near extinction.”

The front door opened and automatically, you stood up. It was only Jaskier, who offered you a gentle smile.

“Ah, sorry about that, ladies.”

“Where’s Geralt?” Ciri asked.

“He had to take Roach into town to be stabled.l since Y/N doesn’t have a stable she could stay in.”

“I have no need for a horse.” You reminded him. “They tend to have a strong dislike for my kind.”

You sat back down in your chair as Jaskier came to stand next to your chair.

“I apologize for his behavior, my sweet.” He placed a hand upon your arm and leaned down to kiss your head.

“There’s no reason for you to apologize for the ways of another man.”

“I hope Ciri isn’t giving you any hassle.”

The girl wrinkled her nose at Jaskier.

“None at all.” You smiled, shaking your head softly. “She’s just curious.”

***

Jaskier took Geralt away from the house in hopes that maybe you wouldn’t hear their conversation. But the witcher wasn’t keen on putting space between himself and the monster that had been left with his Child Surprise.

“I will not go any further, Jaskier.” Geralt spoke firmly, stopping his tracks just a few feet from the porch.

“Geralt, you—,”

“You led us straight to a fucking siren, Jaskier.”

“You don’t understand, Geralt! Ciri is safer here than she is anywhere else!”

“She’d be safer in a wyvern’s nest than here.”

“In all our years, Geralt, we’ve come across plenty of monsters that weren't actually monsters. Y/N is one of those–,”

“I promise you, Jaskier, she isn’t what you think.”

“But she is, Geralt!” A smile came to Jaskier’s face. “I’ve known her for seven years, and I swear to you she is one of the kindest, most gentle beings I have ever met. And-And I cannot have you holding such a harmful bias against someone I love!”

Geralt shook his head, rubbing his brow.

“You said the same thing about the blacksmith’s daughter in Caingorn last month.”

Jaskier shook his head and waved his hands dismissively.

“No, no, Geralt. Love isn’t black and white my friend! It’s shades of gray. Y/N— She is my one true love. The one my heart yearns for every bleeding second of the day. The one I long for when I am away. The one that causes a fire in my–,”

“Does she know your love isn’t black and white?”

“Yes! She does! And she is welcoming to my love.”

The witcher raised his brows. Jaskier let out a sigh, brushing his hair back.

“Geralt, please. She’s someone important to me. I love her and I trust her with my life. Yes, in the past she has hurt people…. But what matters is that she isn’t that anymore.”

Geralt shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes flickering to the house.

He wanted to trust Jaskier, but sometimes the bard’s judgment could be distracted by the presence of an attractive being.

“The first time I feel that Ciri’s life is in danger, we are leaving.”

“Thank you, Geralt!” Jaskier embraced him in a tight hug. “And I will speak with Y/N about her…. Hospitality. Though I’m sure showing up on her doorstep was quite the surprise. Y/N isn’t keen on strangers, but she is a sweetheart once you get to know her.”

The witcher grumbled, disagreeing with his friend.

***

With two satchels over his shoulders, Geralt made his way into the house. His eyes flickered around the room in search of Ciri. He spotted his Child Surprise sitting at the table with you and Jaskier.

Jaskier’s chair was pulled rather close to yours, his arm wrapped around yours and your fingers laced together.

For a split second, Geralt saw you smiling as you spoke to Ciri. But then your eyes flickered over to the White Wolf and in the same instant, the smile fell from your lips.

“It’s getting late.” He spoke, placing the bags down beside the table. “Jaskier mentioned a guest room where Ciri could rest.”

“Just down the hall.” You nodded once.

Ciri’s stomach growled with hunger. She smiled sheepishly, bringing her hand up to her stomach.

You and the witcher were the only two to hear thanks to your enhanced hearing.

“My apologies, child. I wasn’t aware I’d be having company.” You frowned, feeling a bit guilty that you didn’t have the proper food for her.

“In the morning, I will go into town and gather what supplies we will need.” Jaskier volunteered.

You stood to your feet and moved around your home, picking up a netted bag.

“Where are you going, Y/N?” Jaskier’s eyes followed you.

“I can’t have her going to bed with an empty stomach.” You gestured to her. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. For the meantime, start a fire in the hearth, please.”

As the front door closed behind you, Ciri looked at Geralt.

“I quite like her.”

He grunted and rolled his eyes.

“You shouldn’t be so quick to pass judgements.”

“Same could be said for you.”

Geralt turned his head to look at the bard, who moved away from the table to start a fire in the hearth.

***

After a small dinner consisting of fish cooked over the fire, you found yourself sitting alongside the young girl as she asked you questions.

“Are Nixes from a specific area?”

“We can inhabit any water source. Lakes, rivers, ponds, seas.”

“And swamps?”

You smiled a little, nodding your head.

“Yes, even swamps.”

“Where are you from?”

You looked over to her for a few moments, trying to think of a good answer.

“When you’ve lived as long as I have, child, you don’t keep track of something so trivial.”

She nodded her head and fell silent for a little while.

“I think it is a good time for bed.” Geralt stood to his feet.

“Y/N, have you got anything Ciri can change into?” Jaskier asked. “At least until her clothes can be washed tomorrow?”

“Yes, of course. But I do think she could use a bath before changing into clean clothes, don’t you think so, dear?”

“A bath would be lovely.” Ciri nodded her head enthusiastically. The poor girl was smudge with dirt and grime. Her greasy hair was pulled back into a braid and she smelled less than pleasant. A bath would be the perfect way to finish the night.  

“There’s a pool of water not too far away–,”

“It’s getting dark outside.” Geralt interjected, causing himself to be at the other end of your glare once more. “There are things outside that could harm Ciri.”

“I can keep her safe, witcher.”

Geralt locked his jaw.

“Geralt.” Jaskier said his name as if to encourage him to let you take the young girl out.

“Fine. Ten minutes.”

You nodded once, a wordless agreement.

***

You sat on the edge of the pool of water. One foot was dipped into the water. You leaned back on your hands, your eyes flickering around the edge of the woods.

While the princess bathed, you sat guard.

Crickets, cicadas, and frogs made a beautiful and tranquil sound that resonated through the woods. Every now and then, something would splash as it broke into the water on the other side of the pool. Ciri would jump and turn in the direction of the noise. You would tell her that it was a bullfrog or a fish breaching the surface, and you may have lied a little bit to her whenever the noise came from an alligator. The animals had no interest in coming close to you, so the girl was safe.

“Y/N? Can I ask you something?” Ciri brushed her wet hair over one shoulder. You gave her a nod in reply. “Geralt is usually a very good judge of character…. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so hostile towards someone within the first few moments of meeting them.”

You turned your head to watch a black and white ringed snake slither along the top of the water and away from yourself and Ciri.

“This isn’t my first encounter with him.” Your eyes flickered back to her. “The Continent is unfortunately far too small for those of us unfazed by time.”

“I take it you don’t like each other.”

There was a long pause as you gazed at her, tempted to tell her all the gory details of the first time you ran into the infamous Butcher himself.

“He killed my sister.” Your voice fell to a quiet murmur.

“I…. I’m sorry for your loss.

You sat up, brushing the dirt off of your palms.

“She was the reason for her own demise in the end. Witchers rarely give my kind a second chance. The White Haired One saw us as more than just beasts. He gave my sister and myself a second chance. She could not control her urges.”

“Urges?”

You nodded lightly, reaching your hand out to skim the surface of the water.

“Every monster craves something. Most act on their hunger, slaughtering entire villages to satisfy their cravings. Some act on the pain that rests inside them. They destroy whatever they can get their hands on in an effort to get others to feel the same pain they do.”

“And what is it you do?” Ciri tilted her head to the side just a little.

“Survive.”

#jaskier x reader #jaskier x siren!reader #jaskier x siren #jaskier fic #jaskier #dandelion #dandelion the Witcher #the Witcher 3 #the Witcher netflix #Jaskier the witcher #julian alfred pankratz

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

Comgratulations!!! Thats a interesting celebration!!! I can not put my mind around what are you going to birth with this 😚🙀 (sorry if sound weird english is not my thing but your writing are beautiful creations so the metaphor is alright)

Can this jedi (or medic) reader travel with Crosshair (It's a shame it can't be the twins or Maker bless us, all force 99) with soulmate as luggage to either Naboo or Alderaan? 😖

Thank you for booking with Soaring's Tours. We're now ready to board your flight. Please mind the gap between the transport and the platform. We wish you a pleasant journey!

Through Your Eyes

In a galaxy consumed by war, you find solace away from the medbay and injured troopers by painting your dreams. But a chance encounter reveals those dreams are more than they seem...

Pairing: Crosshair x f!reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: brief reference to surgery, good ol' soulmates trope, breaking and entering, Cross can never give a straight answer, softness, romance, first kiss, lil' innuendo.

Your brush swooped across the canvas, and green paint dragged across its surface to form a tree. There was no reference holo, just the memory from last night’s dream in your mind.

Over the last year, your dreams have taken a turn. Once focused on your life, they’d now switched to landscapes - deserts, snowy mountains, swamps - they were endless. But they all had one thing in common. They were all from great heights, as if you were a bird soaring through the sky.

As a child, you found peace in painting, locking yourself away for days at a time. As you grew up and left for medical school, it helped ease your frazzled nerves after hectic days. And now, with the war raging across the galaxy and the Kaminoans relying on your expertise in trauma surgery, it was how you chased away the images of injured troopers.

As you dipped your brush into the pot of water on your desk, your gaze lingered on the small mark on your wrist - your soulmate mark. It had appeared five years ago - late by society’s standards, given that most received them before puberty. That was until a literal army of men had been revealed to the galaxy a year ago. The forums you’d frequented on the holonet had exploded, thousands of people connecting the dots that their soulmates were part of the GAR.

It was why you’d jumped at the opportunity to work for the Kaminoans when they’d been recruiting at the Grand Medical Facility. You figured it would be easier this way to find your soulmate. Some people on the forums had been able to find their soulmates through their bonds – picking up on their thoughts, sensing their feelings, or knowing they were nearby. Unfortunately, you had no idea what your connection with your soulmate was.

And you were no closer to figuring it out a year and a half into the war.

As you were about to dip your clean paintbrush into the soft brown on your palette, your datapad beeped urgently. Spurred into action, you abandoned your painting, snagging your scrubs. You dashed out of your quarters, the sterile corridor a blur as you sprinted towards the medbay. What was the emergency this time? Another trooper injured on the front lines, or perhaps an existing patient who’d turned critical?

You burst through the medbay doors, adrenaline coursing through your veins, only to be met with a scene that halted you in your tracks. A trooper lay motionless on a stretcher, surrounded by a flurry of activity as medics tended to his extensive injuries. The damage to one side of his face was the worst you’d ever seen, blood coating everything in the vicinity, and what you could see of his eye under the swelling wasn’t promising – all evidence of an explosion he’d been too close to.

Three other troopers hovered nearby, worry etched onto their faces, armour dirty and caked in blood. You didn’t even register that they looked nothing like the other clones, but you could feel a heavy gaze from their direction lingering on you.

Without hesitation, you joined the team of medics, your training kicking in as you assessed the trooper’s condition. The severity of his injuries was apparent, and you knew that every second counted. As you worked alongside the other medical personnel, your mind raced, trying to determine the best course of action to save this soldier’s life.

The medbay hummed with urgency, the air thick with tension as everyone focused on their tasks. As you worked tirelessly to stabilise the trooper, Lyndsy - a trainee medic on placement from Bespin - pressed a datapad into your hands. It was filled with notes from the team that’d intercepted the squad’s arrival, including details of the trooper.

CT-9903.

You bit your tongue. They hadn’t thought to get his name.

“Name?” You directed the question towards the three nearby troopers, gesturing to your injured patient.

“Wrecker, ma’am.” The shortest of the three spoke up, his face half-shaded by a tattoo. With a nod of thanks, you updated the information on the datapad.

“Theatre. Now.” You barked the order, stepping back to let the other medics release the brakes on the stretcher and hurriedly push Wrecker towards the operating room. A bacta bath could cure many things, but in the few moments you’d been focused on stabilising him, you’d concluded it would take far more than that for him to survive.

“I’ll do everything I can.” You assured Wrecker’s brothers quickly, wishing you had more time to explain what would happen next but knowing every second counted. With a determined focus, you led the medical team into the operating room. As the doors swung shut behind you, you blocked out the outside world, immersing yourself in the controlled chaos of the operating theatre.

Time seemed to blur as you worked, your hands moving with precision as you repaired the extensive damage inflicted upon Wrecker’s body. Each incision, each piece of shrapnel pried free, each suture, was a calculated effort to save his life, and you refused to let fatigue or doubt get in the way. The beeping of monitors and the hushed voices of your colleagues faded into the background.

Finally, you completed the last suture. As you stepped back from the operating table, your heart pounded in your chest, and you let out a deep breath, shoulders dropping with relief. You’d done all you could; now it was the Bacta’s turn. He’d likely have some prominent scars for the rest of his life, and his hearing would forever be affected, but you’d been able to replace his damaged eye with a cybernetic one and give him a blood transfusion. He’d pull through to fight another day.

Leaving the operating room, you peeled off your gloves, gown, and mask, your mind still buzzing with the intensity of the surgery as you deposited them into the biohazard chute.

“I’ll tell his squad.” Lyndsy offered, noting the tiredness in your body.

As Lyndsy’s words washed over you, a wave of gratitude swept over you. Her offer granted you some reprieve. With a nod of appreciation, you managed a faint smile before trudging back to your quarters, the tiredness starting to creep in.

Entering your cabin, you let out a long exhale, feeling the tension slowly ebb away as you sank onto the edge of your bed. The familiar surroundings offered a semblance of comfort amidst the chaos of war.

Scrubs off and buried under the comfort of your blankets, you found yourself drifting into a restless sleep. Gone were the beautiful landscapes you’d come to appreciate, replaced with images of Kamino, particularly the view from a large window. Even in sleep, your mind was working to place it, and judging by the perspective, you could pinpoint which structure it was from.

The barracks.

In the quiet corners of your mind, a realisation dawned. You hadn’t been having dreams of random landscapes; they were glimpses into someone else’s life, someone intimately connected to you. It explained the shift in your dreams, the sudden focus on places far removed from your reality. They were the places your soulmate had been seeing, the moments they had been living.

As you awakened to the soft light filtering through your window, the remnants of your dreams lingered in your mind. The realisation hit you like a ton of duracrete, settling heavily in your chest. Your soulmate was here on Kamino. The change in your dreams now made sense, and you couldn’t shake the excitement and apprehension coursing through you.

Before you could dwell too much on the revelation, there was a knock at your door. You blinked, momentarily disoriented, before pushing yourself off the bed and crossing the room to answer it. As the door slid open, you were met with the unexpected sight of Wrecker’s brothers standing in the corridor.

After brief introductions, Hunter spoke up. “We just wanted to swing by and thank you for what you did last night. Wrecker’s gonna pull through, and we owe that to you.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I was just doing my job. I’m glad I could help.” You answered, tucking yourself a little behind the door to hide the fact that you were still in sleepwear.

Crosshair’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, his sharp eyes taking in the details of your quarters. You shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, suddenly feeling self-conscious about the messiness of your living space.

“You paint.” Crosshair commented casually, his tone betraying none of the thoughts swirling in his mind as he looked over the landscapes you’d committed to canvas.

You reached up to play with the neckline of your sleep shirt, a nervous habit that had developed over the years. “Yeah. When inspiration strikes.”

Crosshair’s lips quirked up in a subtle smirk as he leaned against the doorframe, his eyes flicking to the painting on the easel beside you. “You been there?”

“No. I paint what I dream about.” You admitted, trying to keep your voice steady despite your gut’s strange flicker of anxiousness.

He nodded thoughtfully, his gaze lingering on you as if he were piecing together a puzzle. “Funny thing about dreams,” he mused, “sometimes they’re more than just figments of imagination.”

His words hung in the air, but before you could respond, Hunter cleared his throat, breaking the momentary tension. “Well, we should get going to the debriefing. Thanks again, doc.”

You nodded, thrown off-centre by Crosshair’s comment. “Of course. Take care, and I’ll check in on Wrecker later.”

As they turned to leave, Crosshair glanced at the painting you were currently working on before leaning toward you. “When you get around to painting it, the third tree from the right was missing the bottom five branches.” He murmured, a spark of amusement in his eyes. Then he followed his brothers down the corridor, leaving you mouth agape at the door.

For days, you couldn’t shake Crosshair’s comment from your mind. It added complexity to your interactions with him and his brothers, leaving you grappling with emotions you hadn’t anticipated.

Despite your best efforts to focus on your duties in the medbay, your thoughts kept drifting back to him. Every time you passed him in the corridors or caught his gaze across the mess hall, you felt a strange pull, as if invisible threads were tying you together.

It wasn’t just you, either. There were moments when you caught Crosshair watching you, his sharp eyes giving nothing away. It left you wondering what was happening beneath the surface and what thoughts were running through his mind as he looked at you.

Returning one evening to your quarters after another exhausting shift in the medbay, you found something amiss. The door to your cabin was slightly ajar, and a sliver of dim light spilt into the corridor. Your heart skipped a beat as a rush of adrenaline coursed through you. You cautiously pushed the door open, expecting the worst, only to be met with an unexpected sight.

Crosshair was inside your quarters, standing by the easel where your latest painting was. His attention was fixated on the canvas as if examining every brushstroke with precision. His presence in your private space sent a jolt of alarm through you, but you couldn’t deny the intrigue that accompanied it.

“Crosshair?” you ventured cautiously, stepping into the room with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. “What are you doing here?” you asked, unable to suppress the hint of accusation in your voice.

Crosshair turned to face you, his expression unreadable as he regarded you with those piercing eyes. “Admiring your work.” He replied casually, though there was a hint of something else in his voice.

You felt a surge of irritation at his nonchalant response. “It’s not polite to enter someone’s quarters without permission.” You retorted, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

He shrugged, unfazed by your admonishment. “Noted.” He commented, his gaze drifting back to the paintings. “Figured I’d see if you were around.”

You felt a flutter of excitement mixed with apprehension at his words. “Well, here I am.” You said, gesturing to the room around you. “Not much to see, I’m afraid.”

Crosshair’s smirk widened into a grin, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “I wouldn’t say that.” He replied cryptically, his gaze lingering on you in a way that sent a strange sense of heat curling through you.

“How did you know about the branches?” You steered the conversation in what you hoped was a safer direction, shutting the door behind you before you crossed over to him, glancing at the painting.

Crosshair tilted his head slightly, his gaze still fixed on the painting. “I’m familiar with that species of tree.” He lied.

You narrowed your eyes sceptically, not convinced by his explanation. “It was more than that.” You countered, gesturing towards the canvas. “You pointed out a specific detail you wouldn’t know unless you’d been there or inside my head.”

He chuckled softly, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Let’s just say I have an eye for detail.” He said cryptically, his tone teasing.

You couldn’t help but feel frustrated at his evasive response. “You’re not going to give me a straight answer, are you?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest once more as you regarded him with curiosity and exasperation.

Crosshair turned to face you fully, a smirk tugging at his lips, his gaze intense. “Where’s the fun in that?” He replied, his tone playful.

You refused to back down. Holding his gaze, your lips pressed into a thin line.

The silence hung heavy in the air, and anxiousness clawed at Crosshair. He’d thought he could play dumb. He should’ve known better. With a heavy sigh, he gestured to your painting on the easel. “Myrkr. The coordinates for that spot are 42.3814° N, 80.0889° E. I was there eight rotations ago. It’s where Wrecker had his accident,” he confessed.

“Bormus.” He stated, gesturing to one of your other paintings leaning against the wall. “51.5074° N, -0.1278° W.” He rattled off the coordinates before moving on to another painting, and another, and another…

You’d seen glimpses of his life.

“Does this mean...?” You began, the words catching in your throat as you searched for the right way to express the flood of emotions coursing through you.

Before you could finish your sentence, Crosshair took a step closer, closing the distance between you until barely a breath of space separated you. His gaze bore into yours with an intensity that stole your breath away, sending a jolt of electricity dancing along your skin. “I think it means we have a lot to talk about.” He murmured, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine.

A thousand thoughts and emotions swirled through your mind, but in that moment, you could only focus on the undeniable pull drawing you towards him.

Crosshair’s hand gently cupped your cheek, sending a shockwave of warmth through you. His gaze softened. “I’ve been dreaming too.” He admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to break the fragile spell that had enveloped the two of you.

Your breath caught in your throat at his confession. “What do you dream of?” You managed to ask, although you already knew the answer.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Crosshair’s lips, his thumb tracing a gentle path along your cheekbone. “Surgeries. Sterile medbays.” He answered. “While you get the landscapes I see, I get the shot regs and operations that you see.”

“Our link is sharing what we see.” You whispered, the realisation washing over you like a gentle wave. “Through our dreams.”

Crosshair nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “Seems that way.” He agreed, his voice soft with a tenderness you hadn’t expected from him. “I never imagined my soulmate would be a hot doctor.” He confessed, sliding an arm around your waist to hold you close, his fingers that had been against your cheek now pushing errant strands of your hair out of your face.

A soft laugh escaped your lips as warmth swept through you. One hand moved to rest against his chest. “And I never thought mine would be a handsome soldier.” You admitted, reaching up with your free hand to ghost your fingers across his sharp jawline, relishing the feeling of his closeness.

Lost in each other’s eyes, the world outside your quarters faded into insignificance. “What do we do now?” You asked quietly, entirely at a loss.

“I’d like to explore this further.” He confessed, his voice rough with emotion as his gaze dipped to your lips for a fraction of a second. “If you’re willing.”

You nodded, a smile playing across your face. “I’d like that.”

Pleased, Crosshair spared no time before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

The galaxy ceased to exist. His lips were warm against yours, firm and demanding. You responded eagerly, your fingers dragging through his silver hair as you deepened the kiss, your heart pounding.

Crosshair pulled back, and you found yourself breathless and dizzy, your senses reeling from the intensity of the moment as his hands snaked towards your ass. Holding his gaze, you gasped quietly as his slender fingers grabbed at the curvature of your rear.

A smirk crossed his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Not bad for a first kiss,” he remarked, his tone teasing, “but I think we can do better.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling despite the heat rising to your cheeks. “Yeah?” You challenged.

He leaned in closer, the scent of regulation soap and blaster cleaner filling your senses. His lips brushed the shell of your ear. “These hands don’t just make perfect shots.” He whispered.

With a playful swat to his chest, you chuckled, feeling a surge of excitement and a healthy dose of nervousness. “You better be prepared to back that up.”

Crosshair grinned as he pulled back, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Oh you can count on it.”

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[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to Chaos Creator's Chapter 262

TL;DR - Cale sneaks inside the room behind the glass wall. Freedom wind elemental relays to Cale the conversation between the dragon and the old mage. Cale gets angry upon seeing what was inside the black pit.

The Chapter Only three important stuff happened today. First off, that crazy wind elemental (WE) that always shouted "Liberation" was actually a highest level elemental, having been given the name of "Freedom" by the Wind Elemental King himself. Having a name indicated their rank, so it was no wonder why Freedom easily dragged the "strong" wind elemental of the elf guard. And Cale had the scent of the Wind Elemental King on him, probably from hanging out with Tasha, so Freedom quickly followed Cale.

Next was the dragon inside the pit. His name was Letao, a dragon who had not consumed the source of the world. He was in charge of providing the mana for the "executions" happening inside the pit. And Ryan was using Letao's daughter as a hostage to force him to cooperate.

Through Letao's conversation with an old mage, Cale found out that the "final execution" was set to a week later. And all the remaining beastkin in the castle would be used for this event. Ryan would be presiding this event, and even forced Letao to attend too, saying he should attend if he wanted to see his daughter.

Last important information was what was inside the pit. The black water was like a swamp, and inside it were stone statues- no, blackened corpses of beastkin. All of them had their hands stretched out as if trying to get out of the pit, and had expressions of fear and despair.

Cale, Freedom, and Fire AP were all furious upon seeing that scene. Cale instructed the three kids to not look, although On admitted that she saw a bit.

There was an altar at the center of the pit, and atop it was a pair of white gloves/gauntlets that was two-thirds blackened already. Cale identified it as the Howl of the Sunset, the divine item of the Blue Wolf. He also heard about Ryan's plan to summon Blue Wolf, eat it, and become a god, though it seemed like this was planned without the Dragon Lord's knowledge.

Ending Remarks Cale was really angry today. Even the kids could tell that he wanted to destroy everything. So next chapter, we might see a sea of fire and the return of the Purifier. I'm torn about Letao though. While I understand that he did everything because his daughter was used as a hostage, it doesn't change the fact that countless beastkin died because of his involvement.

#tcf spoilers #trash of the count's family

[louloulemons-posts]

Sand and Suncream

Eddie Munson X Reader

Summary : Reader, Eddie and their friends have a beach day.

Word count : 1.1k

Warnings : FLUFF, not proofread, petnames, reader calls him Teddy, swears, hating on summer lmao, play fighting, the sea

A/N : this is for all of my fellow summer sufferers, who can’t wait for the cold to come back! Also i’ve head cannoned eddie as a november baby, he gives off big scorpio vibes!

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

It had reached the cooler part of summer, the early autumn breeze blowing in. The trees were turning from green to brown, but there was still a beautiful warmth.

You and Eddie weren’t people who loved the warm, if anything you suffered through it. Eddies thick locks making his head melt and your want for winter making you almost miserable.

Of course your friends thought you were crazy. Just to get them off your backs you had decided to go to the beach with them. It wasn’t too hot, and there were some clouds to save you from the scorching sun.

“Why did we agree to this again?” Eddie asked, clad in a black tank top and shorts.

“I was going to say it’s because we love our friends, but honestly I don’t know at this point.”

Eddie pulled into the parking lot by the beach, next to Steve. Robin waved wildly, also wearing shorts, but a blue crop top on her upper half. “You made it!” she smiled, hugging you as you walked over.

“Of course we did, we were scared you’d kill us if not,” Eddie explained.

“Come on Munson, it’s just the beach,” an eye roll from Harrington.

“It’s just the beach,” he mocked Steve’s voice, “I’m a November baby.”

“Come on! I wanna go in the sea, come with me?” Robin asked you.

Nodding, you grabbed your beach bag, setting it down once you’d found the perfect place. Sliding off your own shorts, you spoke to Robin, “Have you got suncream on?”

“Mhm. Forced Dingus over there to put some on too.”

“What is it with boys and suncream?” you asked. “Honestly!”

“We’re right here you know?” Steve spoke, hands on hips. “Yeah, suncream is gross, makes you all sticky and yuck,” Eddie shivered.

You kissed his cheek, “I’d rather you be sticky and yuck than be burned and get skin cancer. Now let me get your hair out of your face.”

Pulling a hair tie off your wrist you knelt behind Eddie, pulling all of his curls into a loose bun, that sat just above his neck. “Thank you,” he said, pecking your nose.

“That’s enough Lovebirds, let’s go in the sea!” Robin grabbed you hand and dragged you down to the water. She sprinted ahead, falling in and soaking herself, because of course she did.

“Oh my god, it’s so cold,” she whined, you could only laugh at her. Making your way in slowly so you could get used to the temperature, you sighed.

It was so nice, compared to the hot sand, the icy water was beautiful. Robin swamp deeper into the water, you following behind happily, hoping to cool off some more

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You’d decided to have lunch on the beach, having packed come sandwiches, fruit and other little things that you could pick on. Oh and of course, Uncle Wayne’s famous Sweet tea.

Leaning your head on Eddie, you sipped your drink humming in delight. “I really need Wayne to give me the recipe. I just want it all the time!” you exclaimed.

“If anyone could persuade him on giving it up, it’d be you,” Eddie kissed the top of your head, picking up a sandwich.

“We all need more suncream on in a minute,” Robin spoke. The two boys groaned. “Don’t be babies,” you said to them.

Once lunch was finished, you had to tackle Eddie. Sat on his lower back with his chest on the floor, you smeared suncream everywhere.

He’d taken off his vest and you had explained, people like him and Steve who had loads of freckles and beauty marks caught the sun more. Eddie more so, as his arms, chest and torso were littered in tattoos. “Let me look after you, you little shit!”

When you and Eddie first started dating you noticed the freckles that appeared on him when he’d been in the sun, and his rich chocolate curls, lightened, golden streaks throughout.

“Roll over,” you said, lifting yourself off him. In all honestly he could have easily got you off of him, but he did love you caring for him. Melted his heart.

“Face now,” you spoke and he whined, “Teddy come on, sooner I put it on the sooner it’ll dry.”

“Fine,” he pouted. You leaned down to kiss it away.

Steve and Robin weren’t being as sweet, the girl grabbing him by the legs and forcing him to have the cream on. She almost scalped him at one point.

“Close your eyes Teds,” you said softly, rubbing the cream into his face and neck gently. “All done pretty boy. Now can you help me?”

“Sure Sweetheart.” She took the bottle from your hands and started to rub it in to your shoulder and neck, whilst you did your legs and arms. “Want me to do your face?”

“Mm, please.” He was just as careful as you, never wanting to hurt you. Covering your face in a layer of the cream he smiled, kissing you. “All done.”

“Come in the water with me? It’s nice and cool.” You offered your hand to him, which he took without hesitation. The pair of you wandering down to the water leaving a squabbling Steve and Robin on the towels.

With linked fingers you and Eddie entered the ocean, he sighed in relief. “Okay you were right, this is nice.”

“Did you, Edward Munson, say I was right?” you teased. “I take it back.”

“Too late, you’ve inflated my ego now.”

“Didn’t know it could go up anymore.”

“Rude!” you splashed at him.

“Oh you’re in for it now.” He sent water flying your way, making you squeal at the cold. He grabbed for you, “No no! Teddy please!” you begged.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he lifted you up. “Please!” He laughed at that, placing you down gently, keeping his arms around you. Back to his chest, the waves hit lightly against your tummy.

Resting his head on your shoulder, Eddie kissed your neck. Humming in contentment. “This is nice.”

“It is isn’t it?”

“Mhm, still can’t wait for Halloween though.”

“Me neither, and then theres your birthday!”

“Oh god.”

“It’ll be fun! We don’t have to do anything extravagant, we’ll do whatever you want?”

“What if we went away for a few days, just me and you?”

“Like a holiday?” he hummed a yes. “If that’s what you want. It’ll be nice to steal you away for a few days.”

“Want me all to yourself?” he cocked a brow. “Oh you know it babe,” leaning back you kissed the underside of his jaw.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Teddy.”

That’s when you knew, maybe summer days weren’t all that bad.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N : i have realised i haven’t made many summer-y fics and i saw this fanart by @yamonotto (on twitter) and another by @chloerchain and knew i needed to write something!

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #joe quinn #joe quinn imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine #joesph quinn #joesph quinn imagine #fluff #imagine #oneshot #summer #louloulemons