#I have 2 that don’t change and the rest I rotate

[suit-of-cups]

Trying to decide which keyrings to have on my bag is the hardest part of getting ready

[lewdmommie]

One night stand

Summary: y/n is forced to do some after hours training with König

🎀Warning🎀: 18+NSFW, Oral sex, raw sex, breeding, rough sex, fluff, slight angst,praise/degradation kink, size kink etc…

ClingyKönigxreader💗

Part 2.

Part 3

Word count: 4.k

“That was good but you’re leaving yourself open.” A gloved hand takes hold of your wrist. He lifts both arms, protecting your face. Your eyes dart up catching a brief moment of eye contact before he quickly looks away. Green. His eyes were green, you hadn’t noticed till now. König was sweet but he made sure to keep his distance from people—the fact that you were this close to him at all was a shock. Sgt. Ghost didn’t take kindly to your recent mistake on the last mission. He doubled your workload and put you on probation, because most of the Barracks were close friends of yours, he assigned you the quietest person on the team. Now you and König spend three hours a day training after hours. While your peers train together, you're mopping floors and cleaning toilets. Ghost doesn’t let you train during work hours in case your colleagues distract you. This was a punishment and he made that clear. “I’m sorry you have to do this with me everyday. This is my punishment, you shouldn’t have to suffer on my behalf.” He shakes his head at your apology.

“I don’t mind…I know how Ghost gets.” He places both hands on your hips, rotating your body. The truth is he really didn’t mind, most days he looked forward to seeing you. “Keep your core strong.” He instructs. His fingers travel up the curves of your body as he repositions you. His large hands warm up your waist as ungodly thoughts intrude your mind. The mask made it impossible for you to read his emotions, any expression came from his eyes (which he often hides). The only change you could see was the way his breath hitched as his finger accidentally grazes your breast. He was always so respectful when touching you, the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. Once your body is angled correctly he lets go, taking a few steps back. It almost seemed like he was avoiding the closeness. “Now attack me and defend.” He orders. You lunge forward —jabbing left, right,left,right. He blocks every punch effortlessly, guarding his face. He dodges, dipping low and charging at you. His arms wrap around your thighs hoisting you up. Your fingers interlock beating down on his back, trying to break his iron grip. He stumbles, arms loosening just enough to break free. Your feet hit the ground, König grunts as your fist connects clean with his jaw. “Uhn that one actually hurt…good job.” He waves a hand of surrender while rubbing his cheek through the mask. You run over to help. “Are you alright I’m so sorry-“ his hand shoots out, snatching your arm, spinning you. His solid arm tightens around your neck trapping you in a chokehold. His breathing is shallow, body tensing as your ass presses against him. You reach up and caress his forearm. He hadn’t realized just how small you were compared to him till now, his body engulfed the entirety of your frame. He notes how perfectly you fit in his arms and how easy it’d be to break you. Your head rests just below his pecs, the smell of your hair product wafts up his mask, he inhales the sweet scent. His bicep flexes, tightening his grip, your eyes flutter and a quiet moan falls from your lips. You loved that light headed airy feeling of being choked.

“N-never let your guard down.” He let’s go, gently pushing you away, putting a giant gap between the two of you. “Even if you think someone is done, be prepared to attack…” he trails off getting distracted by how sexy you look after an intense workout. How fast your breathing is, how your hair is messy with sweat, how your lips part as you catch your breath. He wanted to be the one to work you out.

“Oh whatever you cheated .” You laugh squatting down as you catch your breath. König crouches, grabbing his flask from the ground. His large, veiny hands twist the top off in one swipe. Unconsciously, he lifts the bottom of his mask to drink, showing you a glimpse of the lower half of his face. His jaw tenses, a trickle of water spills down his chin as he swallows. His adams apple bobs with each gulp. You gawk at the scene in front of you, thinking it has to be a daydream.

“Water?” He holds the flask to you.

“S-sure.” You ease to a sitting position on your knees reaching for the bottle. You stare at the rim that just grazed his lips. Does this count as an indirect kiss? You think. He watches you place your lips in the exact spot he’d drank from, flushed with excitement. He wonders if your lips were as soft as he imagined they’d be. How they’d feel melding with his…how they’d feel wrapped around his dick. He doesn’t dwell on it too long, knowing that would never happen and that you didn’t see him that way.

“Have you eaten?” He asks, looking at you with big green eyes.

“Sergeant told the cafeteria to only feed me peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch, so I haven’t eaten anything of value.” Your stomach grumbles on que.

“You must have really gotten on his bad side huh?” He offers you a hand,helping you to your feet.

“Unfortunately.” You dust off your pants and begin collecting your belongings.

“Since we wrapped up a bit early, how about I take you somewhere you can get real food.” He offers, packing his duffle bag.

“You know how tight ghost keeps the kitchen locked up…” you say with an annoyed tone.

“Who said anything about the kitchen?” His voice sounds mischievous.

“You don’t mean-?” You shake your head, stuffing your hat and jacket in the bag.

“Come on, he’ll never know I’ve worked with him long enough to know his blind spots.” He tilts his head expressively.

“Fine but if we get caught, you ordered me to go.” You hike your bag onto your shoulder, walking past him. He smiles behind you.

~

“Puedo pedir dos margaritas?(may I have two margaritas) Sí…un bistec nacho y un burrito de pollo(one steak nacho and one chicken burrito)Eso es todo, gracias(that's all thank you).” He says expertly, the waiter nods thanking you before going to pin the order up.

“Wow I’ve been deployed here longer than you and my Spanish is still choppy.” You toy with some lime slices on the table to keep yourself busy. König watches you closely, an amused look in his eye.

“I can speak a few languages but I’m not good at them all.” He looks you up and down, the lights from the club area illuminates your skin. Your hair is pulled in a now messy bun. Cute strands stick out from your training session. He is especially drawn to your lips, the way you lick and nibble your bottom lip when you’re nervous. His eyes dart away when you feel his gaze lingering and look up.

“What other languages do you speak?” You stare out into the dance floor, watching the locals swing and jump to the music. They looked carefree and happy, it’d been so long since you’ve felt good or even had a good time. Ghost saw a lot of potential in you so he stayed on your ass 24/7. Tough love is what he liked to call it.

“German is my first language.” He reveals.

“German? That’s so cool , say something in German.” He chuckles at your excitement.

“Ich möchte dich über diesen Tisch beugen und dich dazu bringen, mich ganz zu nehmen (I want to bend you over this table and make you take all of me)” he leans forward, green eyes boring into you as he says this,making sure you can hear him over the music. You had no idea what he just said but it made your thighs clench under the table.

“W-what does that mean?”

“I’ll tell you one day.” He shrugs. You toss a lime, it smacks his vest with a small thud.

“I thought friends don’t keep things from eachother.” You tease. The server brings out two large glasses with salted rims, there was no way you could finish this entire thing. He places the margaritas on either side of the table along with straws. König tears open his straw taking a long pull from his drink.

“Whoa it’s strong.” The fruity syrup barely covered the 3 shots of liquor . You indulge, sucking a mouth full of the frozen drink. It tastes strongly of strawberry slushie and tequila, the salted rim balances all the flavors with a sour finish. The alcohol must have been hitting him pretty fast because all he could imagine is him being that straw. How good the inside of your mouth must taste and feel.

“You’re right…I see why everyone is having such a good time.” You joke, taking another sip. A hearty laugh rumbles in his chest, he loved the way you always spoke your mind. It’s one of the qualities that always got you in trouble with ghost. Nothing made him laugh more than watching you stress ghost out with your witty personality.

“I guess we’d better join the party.” He raises his glass for a toast before chugging half.

The server brings out hot plates of food, everything looked and smelled amazing. Your stomach growls at the sight of real food, the liquor (coupled with only eating sandwiches for a week) takes effect making you absolutely demolish your burrito. König shyly slips a few chips under his mask, he never ate around people since it usually required the mask to come off.

“This is soooo good.” You say having another bite.

“I love this place. I come here often.” He slides in another chip.

“I thought we weren’t allowed to leave base unauthorized or maybe that’s just me.” Ghost had a tendency of giving you extra rules for your troublesome rap sheet.

“We aren’t but if you don’t get caught, did it ever happen?” He laughs, taking the final sip of his drink.

“And they call me the troublemaker.” You say glancing at the dance floor again.

“Do you want to?” He asks.

“Want to what? Dance?…no I don’t uh I don’t dance.” You dismiss quickly.

“ I’ve seen you knock grown men out y/n, dancing can’t be much harder than that.”

“You know you’re much more social than usual.” You observe.

“Only when I’m with you.” He grabs your hand leading you to the crowd.

The music thumps with bass, shaking the ground beneath your feet. A sexy song plays through the huge speakers near the DJ station. People couple up, swaying their bodies to the beat. König slips an arm around your lower back pulling you close. You struggle to find the tempo, moving left to right awkwardly. He takes your hand, spinning you around. His eyes trace the line of your body before pulling you back into his chest. You giggle at how ridiculous you look compared to his smooth rhythm. Your foot slams down on his toe as you try to find the beat “I’m so sorry! I’m so bad at this maybe I should sit-“

“Let’s try this instead.” His knee forces your legs apart, giving him control of your movements. The feeling of his thigh pressed firmly against your heat makes your head spin.

“Follow my lead.” He commands.

His waist sways back and fourth, rocking your bodies in unison. You copy his actions, grinding your hips together, the grip on your waist tightens. The fabric of your pants rub creating friction between your legs, his cock reacts to the closeness, beating as if it was dancing along with them. finding the rhythm, your body starts to move on its own.

“Scheisse (Shit)” he groans as you turn around and twirl your ass on him. His head falls back as you start to swirl your hips down and back up slowly. His big hand slides over your stomach holding you as close as possible, his rock hard member strains through his thick camo pants. Your eyes close as you grind into him, his finger grazes the exposed skin peeking from under your shirt. He trails that same finger up your torso, between your breast and up your neck. His hand rests at the base of your throat keeping hold of you as your bodies whirl around the dance floor. He spins you back around to face him, for once he demands eye contact and you’re the one shying away. You stare at the floor, giant hands cup your face pulling you to meet his feverish gaze.

“Don’t look away from me.” König’s voice sounds different, More rugged. His shoulders hunch as he leans down to your height as he speaks. “Bitte komm mit mir nach Hause” he whispers in your ear.

“What’s that?”

“Please come home with me.” He breathes.

~

“How the hell did you convince Ghost to let you room by yourself ?” You ask, stepping past the threshold.

“ My social skills and big personality helped with that.” He jokes sarcastically. König wasn’t required to room with anyone thanks to his close connection to the sergeant, leaving the two of you completely alone in his quarters.

“Well I guess if you don’t talk much there isn’t much you could say to get in trouble.” You ponder.

“Yeah you should try it.” He chuckles at your shocked expression.

“Try what exactly?” You ask appalled , holding your chest dramatically.

“Not talking. That mouth of yours is dangerous.”

“Give me one example where I said something worth getting punished for.” Your arms cross.

“If I recall correctly you said and I quote ‘why would I listen to a dude named Simon?’ ” he says in a high pitch voice mimicking yours.

“First of all he wasn’t supposed to hear that, wrong place at the wrong time on his part and secondly Simon is a funny name, the jokes practically write themselves.” He pauses for a second before doubling over with laughter.

His keys clatter on the kitchen counter as he wipes his tears of laughter away. You set your bags near the couch and sway on your heels nervously, unsure whether to sit or stand. Strong hands settle on your shoulders working away the tension you’ve been holding for god knows how long. Your head rolls back into his touch, he kneads your muscles like dough relieving any and all stress. “That feels so good, König.” You groan, closing your eyes.

“Come with me.” He grasps your hand leading you down a hall , stopping at a closed door. He twists the knob revealing a very plain bedroom, a queen sized bed with black sheets, a desk, and stacks of paperwork are all that decorate the space. There are two extra doors, one leading to the closet and the other to the bathroom. You laugh at his clumsiness. He’s clearly tipsy as he staggers to the door.

He slips his gloves off and opens the cabinet below the sink, rummaging around and pulling things out onto the bathroom floor. Finally, he emerges with a pink topped bottle. “Baby oil” the label reads.

“Strip.” He says, unbuckling his bulletproof vest and laying it on the desk chair.

“S-strip?”

“Yes, so I can massage you. That is what you want isn’t it?” He removes his thick camouflage jacket revealing the snug black material of his undershirt.

His muscles bulge veiny and tight, stretching the fabric. It was true, you did want his hands all over you. Ever since you two started training together, you found yourself fantasizing about being split by that monster of a man. Your hands fumble with the buckle of your pants as you kick your boots off. He advances, towering a wapping 6'6”. You shift with anticipation, looking up at him with gleaming eyes. The tips of his fingers hook under the hem of your shirt, swiping it over your head. Your scrunchie is taken along with it, freeing your hair (for my fellow natural haired girlies let’s just say you have braids or a wig). If you’d known you’d be stripping for someone tonight, you would have picked sexier underwear. He’s silent as he takes in how perfect you look in your plain gray and white bra/pantie combo.

“Lay on the bed.” He instructs unscrewing the baby oil top.

You listen, climbing up into the comfy cotton sheets, using your arms as pillows. He’s flustered at how obedient you are, since that wasn’t a side of you he’d seen before. The military couldn’t break you…but he would. He stands at the side of the bed admiring every dip and curve of your figure. Flipping the bottle upside down, Slick cool oil slides down your back. His thumbs rub circles along your spine, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp. His long fingers slip under your bra strap, he huffs in frustration.

“In the way-“ he unclasps it skillfully. Your face is burning with embarrassment, there was no way you were laying in Königs bed half naked. A shiver runs down your leg as he slides down the elastic waist of your panties. He begins working and kneading your lower back, squeezing the plush skin of your ass. The crotch of your panties were soaked, leaving a huge wet spot on the gray fabric. He inhales, your arousal was palatable, his dick pulsates at the scent of your glistening womanhood. Your panties glide down over your ankles as he slides them off, tossing them into the corner.

“Flip over.” He grunts, tossing you around.

Your breast fall from the unclamped bra, hard nipples on full display. König doesn’t hesitate yanking and pulling you to the edge of the bed.

“On your knees.” His voice is breathy and low.

your eyes stay on him as you shift onto your knees, hands holding your chest shyly. Gently he pulls them away, slipping the straps down and off your arms. Because of his height, you’re at perfect eye level with his throbbing erection. His breath hitches as your elegant fingers undo the zipper of his pants, his earthy green eyes flutter. His big hand cradles your cheek as he watches you work to release him from the shackles of those annoying pants. His cock burst free, slapping his lower stomach. Although you couldn’t see his face, the state of his arousal was evident. Veins root from base to tip, beating rhythmically along the upward curve of his sex. His tip is blushed and oozing with pre-cum, his breathing accelerates with need. You run your tongue up the length of his rock hard shaft, he grunts head lolling back. Your lips wrap around the tip, tongue swirling and teasing him before opening nice and wide.

“Scheiße (Fuck)” he pants, caressing your cheek pulling your warm wet mouth down on his cock. It was even better than he’s imagined, his hand sets the pace rocking your head back and forth. Tears prick your eyes as he begins moving faster, fucking your throat. Each thrust deeper than the last, his hand moves to the base of your neck feeling how deep you can swallow him.

“You look so fucking pretty sucking my cock.” He wipes a stray tear with his thumb.

You gag as he pushes further, your throat muscles contract around him before he pulls back.

“Oh naughty naughty girl. You almost made me cum.” He teases, lightly pushing you back onto the bed. The mattress creaks from his massive size as he climbs between your legs, peering down at you. Your hand reaches under the mask, he firmly grips your wrist forcing it to the bed.

“Ask nicely.” He orders.

“Can I touch you…please.” You beg.

He releases your hand, it finds the bottom of the mask, sliding underneath to find the stubble of a 5 o'clock shadow and soft lips. Your finger strokes his lower lip, it is plump and warm.suddenly, his mouth opens nipping and sucking the skin of your curious finger. “Ah what are you-“ you moan arching your back. Pushing your hand away once more, he leans down, capturing your parted lips. Your lips dance in perfect harmony, melting into one another. He moans into your mouth, his jaw tenses as your tongue pushes through savoring the flavor that is König. The head of his dick pokes at your slippery slit begging for entry, you can feel how hot he is all over causing your temperature to rise.

“Open up for me, I’m gonna give you everything I have.” He groans, plunging inside with a flick of his hips. Your hands claw at the smooth skin of his back as you stretch around him, his girth almost too much to handle. You cry out as he thrust deeper “Just alittle more baby, you’re taking me so well…s’good s’fucking good.” He pants filling you to the brim. He stays still for a moment letting you adjust to his large size, the pressure in your pussy nearly makes you cum right then and there.

“I feel you twitching around me princess, you can’t cum yet, I’m not done breaking you.” He pulls back before slamming back in, hitting the back of your cervix with each thrust. There is a delicious ache in your belly as he impales you, the curve of his dick reaches places you didn’t even know existed.

“Ah ah s’to big I-I can’t I can’t.” You cry biting the skin of his chest to hold back your screams.

“You’re gonna take what…I…give…you.” He pounds with each word. He sits up pushing your knees to your chest forcing even deeper inside your velvety walls. This position gives him access to your stiff wet bud. With two fingers he spreads your creamy folds watching his dick pump in and out of you. Every thrust his cock emerges more coated than the last.

“Your pussy is so fucking gorgeous , look at that needy little clit.” He flicks your bud, rutting into you with all his strength. His long fingers grab your throat, your tongue lols out as he chokes you. He alternates the pressure taking you up and gently bringing you back down. “That pretty mouth isn’t so dangerous now.” Your quivering walls clench around him threatening to overflow.

“P-please I’m gonna…ah!” He pulls out, gripping your waist as he throws you around, roughly raising your ass to him. Before you can register the change he splits you apart once again, slapping your plush ass, leaving hot hand prints on your skin. Those giant hands push and pull you back on his cock, using your pussy to make himself cum.

“You have such a cute tummy.” He reaches around pressing on your lower belly feeling how full it is with his cock.

“You would make such a pretty mommy.” He praises fucking you faster and harder. That throws you over the edge, your body convulses and clamps down icing his dick with your sweetness.

His teeth clench with an inhuman growl as his rod twitches and throbs before shooting your insides with his hot seed.

~

“Late again huh, rookie? That’s an extra week.” You jump, turning around. Ghost stands over you. It was true last night’s events made it impossible to wake up at 5 am with the other soldiers. You ended up sneaking out of Königs bed in the middle of the night, hoping you could sneak back into your barracks undetected. The mission was success. You slipped into your bed at 2 a.m before anyone could realize you were gone. Unfortunately, that means you overslept, waking up three hours late.

“I was…sick.” You lie scrubbing the bathroom tiles diligently.

“Sick? You were fine yesterday.” He says with a flat tone.

“Must have eaten something bad, all those peanut butter and jelly sandwiches must have taken a toll.” You grunt, rubbing your stomach.

“Next time you’re sick. You report it to me in advance.” He orders.

“How can I predict when I’m gonna be sick?-“

“Don’t question me.” He spins on his heels walking out the bathroom.

“Okay Simon.” You mock.

“What was that rookie?” He calls back.

“Nothing Sargeant!” You exclaim.

He walks away finally, leaving you with the smell of bleach and toilet water. Your arms ache from scrubbing. throwing the sponge in the bucket of cleaning solution, you sit back against the wall thinking about last night. All morning you avoided seeing König, ducking and dodging him in the halls. Every time you thought of him, your face burned with embarrassment, there is no way you could look him in the eye after that. For now your plan is to just lay low in hopes he was too drunk to remember anything. It was nothing. Just a drunken one night stand.

“There you are.” He charges forward looking down at you.

“H-here I am whats up König…do you need a copy of that report-“

“Why did you sneak out last night.” He interrupts.

“Psh me? Sneak out I didn’t sneak out. I just went for a walk…and ended up in my bed.” You reach into the bucket with gloved hands wringing the sponge out.

“Why couldn’t we sleep together?” He asks.

You fly to your feet in a panic “Shhh! What if someone hears you?”

“So what?” He tilts his head in confusion.

“Superior and subordinate relationships are strictly prohibited!” You whisper/yell.

“Right…hm, okay in here then.” He takes your hand leading you into the stall furthest from the door, The lock clicks behind you.

“Can’t this wait till after hours.” You say with an annoyed tone.

“I want an explanation.” His arm rests on the wall above your head.

“This. This is why I snuck off, to avoid whatever this is. Now I’m stuck in a bathroom stall talking about…feelings.” You hold your stomach making a pained face.

“This isn’t funny.” His voice is low.

“You’re right it isn’t but it is complicated .”

“Y/n? You in here?” A voice calls.

You mouth shit, covering what you assumed was his mouth through the mask.

“Yeah! I was just cleaning!” You call back.

“Who were you talking too?” She asks her foot steps advancing.

“No one! Here I come!” You let him go squinting your eyes.

“This isn’t over.” He whispers sharply, moving to the side.

“I can see that.” You grumble walking out the stall to greet your friend.

…to be continued?

[scarybabe]

Thank you so much for being open about your strong fat journey!! It looks amazing on you!!

Would you be open to sharing a sample week workout write up, or some other reference tips to create a routine? As a fellow gainer girl it would be great to have a reference that works for my body type, and I love your results!

Forgive me if you’ve already shared this, or stated that you don’t want to (if that’s the case just delete the ask)

You’re a wonderful voice in the community, thank you so much for doing all you do!!

Ahh thank you!! I do have a weightlifting coach, she makes my workout plans every day but I can share my nutrition plans + my usual mobility stretches - this makes a huge difference since I was starting from being a couch potato 💕

Nutrition- 3 meals with at least 30-40g of protein each meal and minimum 2,700 calories but more is good! I like the chocolate mutant mass protein powder and put unflavored collagen peptides in everything. At least 100oz of water every day

Mobility stretches (look these up) - 12 reps of Cat Cow, Superman Arm Sweeps. 10 reps of Dynamic Thread the Needle (on each side), Kneeling Hip CARS (each side), 90/90 Hip Shifts ** my mobility stretches change slightly depending on what area I’m working out

At the gym - 4 x 6-10 reps deadlift on smith machine, 3 x 6-12 dumbbell hammer curls, 3 x 8-12 dumbbell Romanian deadlifts (RDLs), 3 x 6-12 cable machine lat pulldown, 2 x 15 each side mini band standing glute hyperextension (one foot on a riser while the other leg extends), 2 x 20 hip abductions (usually there’s a machine for these)

If you’re new to lifting the first number is the number of sets - take a minute to rest between sets or even a bit longer if needed. Second number is the range of reps you do. When researching these I would look up the right tempo for eccentric/concentric muscle contractions because that can really maximize the efficacy. I usually do a practice set with as little weight as possible before the actual set of each new exercise to make sure my form is good, bad form can cause sprains, imbalances or soreness.

I finish my weightlifting with some cooldown stretches - today it’s 60 secof wide leg oblique stretching, 60 sec childs pose lat stretch, 60 sec prone cross over leg glute stretch

~~~~~

Monday - Friday I rotate through different muscle groups so I just shared my Monday routine (pull day!) and my coach tailors it to my personal goals as well. There’s a lot of good weightlifting programs online for free! I don’t do an ounce of cardio either, only strength training.

Thank you for your kind words, I hope this sparks interest in anyone else who may wanna try getting strong. I have a membership to a cheap 24/7 local gym because when I first started I was kinda shy to be watched as I figured out my form and all that 🤣 places like that are good for beginners

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

My "Batter" Half

A/N: Written for @tsukimefuku's foodies and goodies challenge. Coming out of a bit of a writing slump with everything going on atm, so I hope this doesn't disappoint.

Pairing: Nanami x Fem! Reader (Desi reader coded)

Rating: E, safe, fluffy, cute

Word Count: 897

Nanami sits on one of the barstools at your kitchen’s island watching you bustle around getting all the grains the recipe called for. 

“Sweetie, I only asked if it was possible sometime this week. You don’t have to make it for me right away.” 

You shush him, pushing your hair out of the way as you measure the Sona Masoori rice, flat rice, and fenugreek, throwing them all into a large baking bowl and hefting the bowl towards the sink, adding in enough water so that a thin layer covered all of it. You cover the bowl with saran wrap and place it away on the countertop. 

There was no question that you loved cooking for Nanami, but something in you glowed when he asked for South Indian food. There was a regular rotation in what the pair of you cooked but when he asked for masala dosa, you melted inside, all of your senses kicking into high gear to feed him what he craved. It was comfort food for you growing up, and it meant the world to you that he had grown to love it too. 

He knew the effort it took, an almost 2-day process just to make the batter, so he didn’t normally ask for it. The first step was done, letting the grains ferment overnight in water. You wash your hands and join him at the island. 

“It’s no trouble at all Kento. Anything for you.” You rest your head against his shoulder, a soft sigh emanating from him as he puts an arm around you. “Hopefully it’ll be all nice and soft tomorrow. Then I’ll run it through the grinder to make the batter and it’ll have to sit overnight in the oven, so don’t plan on baking anything tomorrow.”

He chuckles, the soft vibrations felt against your hair. “Roger that. But you still didn’t have to get started so immediately.”

“You rarely ask for anything. I couldn’t resist.” You press a kiss to his cheek. “Let’s go to bed.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The next day morning, you check the bowl, pleased to see all the components have fluffed up and taken in as much water as they could. You begin to set up the little grinder that would change the grains into batter, carefully placing the rod mechanism attached to two 5-pound stones into the apparatus. Once in place, you switch it on, and carefully begin adding the grain mixture in between the two stones, adding water to help it along and adjust the thickness. Once all the rice has been put into the contraption, you sit and wait, watching the batter form, checking it for smoothness and ensuring the grain wasn’t clustering into lumps. 

You salt the mixture well and then cover it again with saran wrap, then place it inside the oven, where the added humidity would help the batter thicken and rise, making for the fluffiest dosas. 

Kento wanders downstairs, ready for work in a crisp shirt and tie, eyes taking in the scene in the kitchen. “Someone was up early today,” he observes as you start disassembling the grinding machine. You give him a pleased smile and carefully set the heavy stones back into the box they belonged in. 

“Had to. The earlier I start the process, the quicker it’ll ferment. Who knows, maybe even by tonight if we get lucky.”

Nanami smiles tenderly and pulls you into a hug. “Whenever honey. I’m just glad you took the time to make it.”

You kiss him tenderly before he leaves for work.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day has finally arrived. You check the oven and almost giggle from the delight of seeing the fluffy batter resting in the large bowl. It was ready.

As Nanami slept in, a rare luxury he could only afford on weekends, you begin prepping the dosa filling, throwing the potatoes into a pressure cooker, while chopping onions into half-circles. Once the pressure cooker whistles 3 times, you take it off the flame, waiting for it to cool, before mashing the potatoes. Deftly, you heat the oil in a large wok, tossing in mustard seeds, green chilies, and black lentils for tempering. Once they start to sizzle, you throw a few curry leaves on top, the pleasant crackle bringing a smile to your lips.

The onions and potatoes are tossed into the wok and mixed with a pinch of turmeric, and some cilantro. A fragrant scent fills the kitchen as you set it aside and get ready to make the dosa. A ladle dipped into the fluffy batter, then spread thinly on a greased pan, going in concentric circles from the middle until it starts to heat up and harden, becoming crisp. You scoop some of the onion potato filling and place it in the center, allowing the dosa to harden a little longer before folding it in half and placing it on a plate. 

You’re about to start the second one when Nanami wanders into the kitchen, still in his pajamas. 

“My nose woke me up,” he says good-naturedly, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You sigh contentedly, laying down the batter for the next one as Nanami breaks off a piece of dosa and tucks into the filling. He chews and swallows, savoring the spice.

“Delicious,” he whispers, and your heart swells with joy, his appreciation the only thing you needed. 

Nanami masterlist | JJK Masterlist

Stars divider by @/ saradika. Support banner by @/ cafekitsune

@estarlias @daswanj @whatshernameis @byul9158 @mirrors-musings @Mangiswig

@that-goth-bisexual @connorsui @jadedjane @darkstarlight82 @soft--cherry @galactict3a @hunnie-lily

[septembersung]

@citadelofthestars You are in luck because I just overhauled our entire chore system for the new school year so this is all fresh on my mind.

Context: this was from the post about making chores fair for kids and not requiring more domestic labor of girls than boys or having sisters clean up after brothers but never vice versa.

The following sounds complicated but it’s not? It evolved organically based on what our house needs and fits into how I organize the rest of my life. And, ymmv based on kids’ ages, temperament, and varieties of neurodivergence. My kids are all under 11 and we homeschool and half of us are probably adhd, so we’re still learning skills and also in our space making messes a lot. I would also like to emphasize that I am so bad about chores. Hence the system. When we follow through… it’s amazing. And then we don’t and we start over again (distant screaming.)

We do chores 2-3 times a day on school weekdays (or… sometimes once… but that’s a rough day for cleanliness) and everybody helps at mealtimes. Everybody gives me an hour or a set number of chores on Saturday. We aim to have the house “Sunday ready” by dinnertime Saturday.

Morning chores: this is their chance to take care of their personal space: bed, desk, laundry tidy, that sort of thing. It’s part of general getting ready. After this, the big 3-4 kids help with animal chores (and gardens when applicable) except when they’ve fractured a bone like kid 4 currently has. In some seasons the big 3 will each have an easy first thing kitchen chore like “empty the dishwasher” but not usually during the first part of school year. Mornings are hard for us so we have to get into school routine fir a whole first.

Afternoon chores: By age and ability. Mostly, one-off jobs like change out laundry, put away your laundry, take out trash, entertain a little for 20 minutes so I can have free hands for a separate task, help make the afternoon snack, etc. (Our lives run in 20 minute increments it feels like. I have a timer for everything. It’s what keeps me on task.) I expect big kids (7+) to do 2-4 tasks in this time depending on what the tasks are and under 7s to do one or two things tops, with me. Laundry is a coveted job but the rule is you have to be able to read the label on the knob and reach the bottom of the washer. We’re always behind so I decide as we go what the next load is, and if it’s your basket you’ll be called to help me load even if you’re not big enough to do it independently. Everybody folds (except the 1yo. Because she thinks it’s a keepaway game.)

We have a basic laminated grid on the wall with a column for each kid and little chore stickers with Velcro buttons on the back. (Well, we will when I print and hang the updated version.) Stuff no one likes doing I assign in 2 month increments or more (for habit and technique building) like scrubbing the bathroom; things everyone wants to do, like dust mop, they trade off each week or so. My oldest is so possessive of his sweeping job it’s possible no one else will ever sweep that bit of floor again. But there’s so much else to sweep I’m not too worried tbh.

I try to reset the chart for changeable chores every weekend. In my new and improved version there’s a section for each chore time, and separate for meals, instead of one long column under your name, and you have two columns!, so you move your little chore sticker from “undone” to “done.” Also contemplating have a little sack of random chores to draw from, like a scrabble tile bag, because “contribute positively to the family” is our go to consequence for misbehavior.

Evening chores: This is when we “get in the zone”. Your zone is one specific area of the house you are responsible for. You can do it on your own as you like to stay on top of it or wait til during the fast zone tidy which comes right before or after dinner. And it is fast, like maximum 20 minutes and 10 is better. Big 3 kids rotate between dining room, living room, and main bathroom. Little kids share the playroom. Everybody helps in their own bedroom at the end for 5-10 minutes. I cycle through and help everybody as needed unless something urgent calls me.

Meal time jobs include: table, chairs, floor, dishes (load up or wash by hand.) We’re working up to include kitchen floor and counters as the big kids take on more responsibility for cooking. Again the big 3 kids rotate among the more skilled jobs, while the little 3 trade out what they help scrub and sweep and carry.

Saturdays the kids will do a more irregular job, like “clean out the van” (which is all hands on deck together) or a periodic job like “mop or vacuum your zone” or “scrub cabinets.” We mostly discuss these jobs each week depending on what seems most needed instead of having a specific thing on the chart. (In my improved version the Velcro buttons say “Saturday chore time” in the little Saturday section at the bottom.)

This is probably way more detail than you ever needed in your life, but here we are. Happy planning!

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Double, Double Boil and Trouble - Part 5

A/N: This is part 5 my fic for the @rare-clone-fic-exchange, which I wrote for @goblininawig. The story takes place in a shared continuity with Stars Beyond Number, Martyrs and Kings, and “Do It Again,” but it stands alone and can be read independently of those fics.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Boil x Reader (GN, has hair; reader practices tasseomancy/reads tea leaves) 

Rating: M (mature content intended for readers 18+; minors DNI)

Wordcount: 3.1K

Warnings and tags: mysticism; angst; fluff; mild critique of the Jedi Order (but no Jedi hate); fade-to-black sensuality; implied oral sex; ritualistic drug use; a description of being high on hallucinogens/psychedelics

Obligatory disclaimer: Please don’t use this as a how-to guide for or endorsement of drug use, because 1. it’s inaccurate to the real world, and 2. depending on your location, ThAt WOuld Be ILlEGal. This is a Wendy’s fanfic.

Summary: Boil is willing to do what it takes to get answers about Waxer.

Suggested Listening:

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

“You sure this won’t make me pop positive if I get tested?” Boil asked, eyeing the tin of tea warily.

“Completely. You have two rotations left of shore leave, and this will be out of your system in twenty-four hours.”

You spoke with certainty, and Boil felt some of his doubts ease. He picked up the tin and removed the lid, giving the tea a curious sniff. It didn’t smell like much; just faintly earthy and vegetal. 

“So how does it work?”

“You brew it and drink it, just like regular tea,” you replied. “After a few minutes, you start to feel the effects.”

“And what do the effects feel like?” He set the tea tin down and took a bite of his breakfast.

“Nothing much at first,” you replied. “But when it hits, you’ll know. Everything will look a little clearer and brighter. Food will taste a little better. Everyday things will start to seem really, really interesting. People will be prettier and funnier and smarter.”

“That just sounds like a couple shots of Cheedoan whiskey,” Boil observed.

“Oh, somebody’s fancy,” you teased. “I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty.”

He laughed and tossed his crumpled napkin at you, mostly for the fun of seeing you shudder and flick it away with a revolted expression. “The general bought a round for Ghost Company one time.”

“I hope he charged it to the Jedi Order,” you laughed. “Do Jedi get paid?”

“Search me,” he shrugged. “Clones don’t.”

You grimaced. “I know. Kriffing banthashit, is what that is.”

It didn’t change a thing, but Boil still felt a little better knowing you weren’t as complacent as the rest of the galaxy seemed to be about the clone troopers’ situation. 

“So what makes this tea any different from a decent buzz?” he asked.

“That would be the visual hallucinations,” you replied with a cheeky grin.

He eyed you curiously. “I take it you’ve done this before.”

“A few times,” you nodded. “It can be pretty fun. You haven’t lived until you’ve watched the Eye of Aldhani—you know what, never mind.”

He laughed. “What about the ritual part?”

“It’s a little different. The dosage is higher, so the effects are more intense.” You hesitated a moment before adding, “There’s another element to it as well.”

“What’s that?”

“Force sensitivity,” you replied bluntly. “You need to either be able to wield the Force yourself, or have a strong connection with someone who can.”

He nodded, recalling a detail you’d told him months ago. “And your grandmother taught you to wield it? Why didn’t she send you to the Jedi for training?”

“Our world isn’t part of the Republic,” you explained. “The Jedi order has no jurisdiction that far out in Wild Space, and to be frank, we prefer it that way. They mind their own business, and we mind our own.”

Boil pondered your response quietly, noticing the strained expression in your eyes, and he remembered that you tried to stay off the Jedi’s scopes. “You don’t have to tell me if you’d rather not talk about it.”

You gave him a grateful look and replied, “It’s all right. It’s not a secret or anything. It’s just…” You paused and took a deep breath before continuing. “We do things our own way. And when someone is born with the Sight—the Force—we train them in our own way, too. It doesn’t happen often, and there weren’t many elders with the Sight left by the time I was born. Gran took on my training, but I was only fifteen when she passed.”

Boil gazed steadily at you, feeling a deep sense of foreboding. “What happened?”

“I came to Coruscant, hoping the Jedi could help me. I scraped together everything I had in the galaxy to pay for the trip. But when I went to the temple, they said it was too dangerous to train someone who’d been ‘corrupted.’” The word came out harshly, as though it tasted bitter on your tongue. “They sent me away. Said I would be better off knowing nothing of the Force.”

Boil was horrified. “But you were just a kid!”

“Yeah,” you replied grimly. “I grew up pretty fast after that.”

He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t imagine most of the Jedi he’d met ever treating a child with such callousness, but he and his fellow clones knew better than anyone that the Jedi order contained all sorts of beings, ranging from those who were kind and wise like General Kenobi, all the way to monsters like that kriffing traitor, Pong Krell.

“I’m sorry,” he said at last, feeling the inadequacy of his words. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s all right,” you replied. “I’m older and wiser now, and I realize I probably wouldn’t have been the best fit in the Order. And I’ve picked up quite a bit of knowledge since then—especially since I met Tas. There are more paths to the Force than people think.”

The conversation had strayed into territory that was wholly unfamiliar to Boil, so he was relieved when your serious expression faded and the usual glint of humor returned to your eyes. “Lucky for you, I know what I’m doing.”

He smiled, content to let you steer the topic back to the ritual. “So when you say we need a strong connection, how strong are we talkin’?”

“It requires a very high level of trust. We will have to lower our mental defenses enough to allow each other in. When I’ve done it in the past, it was with people I was very close to—people I had known for years.”

“So you don’t do this for every trooper you bewitch?” he asked.

You grinned. “Actually, yes. After tonight, I will have done this for every single trooper I’ve bewitched. One-hundred percent success rate. Hopefully.”

“So what happens if our connection isn’t strong enough?”

Your smile faltered slightly. “Nothing. We’ll have a hell of a trip, and tomorrow we can thank the Force that it wasn’t our money that got wasted on the tea.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” he said. “When should we do it?”

“We’ll need a few hours of uninterrupted privacy, so we’ll want to wait until I get off work tonight,” you replied. “It’ll be about half an hour before you start to feel the effects, and then we’ll begin the ceremony.”

“That sounds ominous,” he laughed. “Is there a blood sacrifice, or is that only on Centaxdays?”

“You know, I’m fresh out of sacrificial victims, so we’ll have to skip it this time.”

Your eyes sparkled, and he inhaled softly, stunned by how beautiful they were when you looked at him with that mischievous expression. Not that he would tell you that, obviously. What was he supposed to say?

You have the sweetest eyes in the galaxy.

I’ve never kissed anyone with such perfect lips.

The last two weeks have been the best of my life.

When I’m with you, I feel like everything is easier.

I don’t want to leave.

Please. He wasn’t a total sap.

“Cutting corners?” he asked instead, a hint of a taunt in his tone. “And here I thought I’d get special boyfriend privileges.”

He watched for your reaction out of the corner of his eye, and he didn’t miss the way you bit your lip to keep from smiling.

“Oh, you get boyfriend privileges,” you replied. “Door keycode, toothbrush, unlimited conservator access, your very own caf mug… And other things.”

He grinned, moving closer and sliding his hand around your waist, easing his fingers inside your ridiculous bathrobe to caress the bare skin of your hip.

“What other things?” he murmured in your ear, nipping the skin of your neck softly.

Kriff, you taste delicious.

“Ten percent discount on readings,” you replied.

“Ten percent?” he whispered, trailing kisses down your neck to your shoulder as he untied the sash of your robe and brushed his fingers lower on your body. “You can do better than that.”

“F—five percent,” you stammered in a gratifyingly breathy voice. “That’ll teach you not to haggle.”

“Mm,” he hummed as he worked his mouth down your torso, dropping slowly to his knees in front of you. “Maybe we could work out a barter system. I’m sure I could provide some services you might find appealing.”

Your only response was a broken whimper as he took you with his mouth, gripping your hips and then sliding his hands back to cup your ass and pull you against his face.

Maker, I could worship you forever. I don’t want to leave.

Boil would rather die than admit he was nervous. For kark’s sake, he faced off against entire divisions of battle droids on a daily basis; how intimidating could a cup of tea possibly be? Besides, you seemed perfectly comfortable as you brewed the tea and lit a stick of incense, and there was no way he’d let you see him blink. He was a soldier of the Republic, and he wasn’t afraid of anything.

Still, some of his definitely-not-nervousness must have shown on his face, because you gave his arm an encouraging little touch as you walked past him into the living area. He watched as you pulled all the throw pillows off the sofa and your bed and piled them on the floor to make a soft, chaotic nest, and then you dimmed the lights. Your flat had already taken on a strange, mystical air, and he hadn’t even tasted a sip of the tea yet.

He watched curiously as you placed colorful stones in all the windowsills and doorways of your flat.

“What are those for?” he asked.

“Just making sure the only spirits that show up are the ones we want,” you replied with a lopsided grin, but the look in your eyes made him think you were deadly serious. “Nothing to worry about.”

He blinked. So I guess that’s definitely something to worry about.

“I’m not gonna get haunted by this, am I?” he asked, aiming for a casual tone and not quite nailing it.

“Definitely not!” you replied, before adding under your breath, “... probably.”

“Probably?”

“I’m ninety percent sure,” you reassured him. “Eighty-three percent sure.”

“Are you kriffing with me, or are you serious?” he demanded.

You laughed. “I’m kriffing with you. You definitely, probably won’t get haunted, and even if you do, Tas has a banishing spell that’ll get rid of anything.”

“You know you’re not exactly inspiring confidence, right?”

Your only response was a playful smile that made him want to kiss you until you forgot your own name, so he did. He caught you by the hand and hauled you into his arms, threading his fingers through your hair as he kissed you again and again.

“Could you be serious for ten seconds?” he murmured between kisses. 

“No promises.” You flicked your tongue against the corner of his lips, and he nearly called off the entire operation and tossed you onto the bed on the spot.

With a rather impressive display of self control—if he did say so himself—he pulled away slightly and asked, “Are the walls of the Venator going to start weeping blood if I do this?”

“Oh, almost certainly not,” you replied. “Maybe just a droplet or two on the refresher mirrors…”

He stared into your eyes for a moment, then let out a reluctant laugh, dropping his forehead to rest against your shoulder. You wrapped your hand around the back of his head and pressed your lips against his temple.

“We don’t have to do any of this if you don’t want to,” you said quietly.

His arms tightened around you as he inhaled deeply, trying to memorize your exact scent. “No. I want to know. I need to know.”

You held him silently for a moment, and then you nodded. “If you’re sure, then everything is ready.”

“I’m sure,” he said, pulling back just far enough to look into your eyes. “Let’s do this.”

“Okay.” You held him tightly for another moment, then broke away to retrieve the two mugs of tea from the kitchen. You passed one to him, then tapped your own against it. “Bottoms up, Buttercup.”

Boil was expecting the concoction to taste awful: bitter and sinister, maybe with a hint of brimstone. In reality, it was actually pretty good. It was smooth, a little spicy, and sweetened with honey, and he drained the cup without complaint. He waited expectantly, but nothing happened.

“Now what?” he asked.

“Now we watch an episode of It’s Always Sunny on Abafar and wait for it to kick in,” you replied, glancing down into the mug to quickly scan the leaves the way he’d noticed you do every time you finished a cup of tea.

Whatever you saw must not have been too terrible, given that you didn’t immediately cancel the evening’s activities. He shrugged and moved to the sofa, pulling you down with him as you turned on the holoscreen. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the luxury of being able to watch whatever he wanted, any time he pleased. Not to mention that your sofa, shabby as it was, was quite possibly the most comfortable piece of furniture in the galaxy—particularly with your head resting on his shoulder and your body tucked in close to his own as he curled around you. 

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” you warned, nudging him with your elbow. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he lied.

The episode failed to hold his attention, and his mind and hands began to wander. He traced his fingertips over your shoulder and down your bare arm, around your wrist and back up again, enjoying the smooth warmth of your skin. He’d never touched shimmersilk in his life, but he would have bet a month of rations that your skin was softer. Eventually, he draped his arm around your waist and began to play with the hem of your shirt, tugging it up to expose your abdomen.

“Don’t even think about it,” you said, resting your hand over his. “There’s no way in hell I’m going there on your first trip.”

“Even if I want to?” he murmured, kissing the back of your neck.

“Nope. Besides, we’re not just doing this for fun, remember?” You rolled over to face him.

“Fine. Maybe next time.” He rested his forehead against yours, stroking your cheek softly as he gazed into your eyes. “Your pupils are huge.”

You snorted a laugh. “Seems like the tea is working. Shall we get started?”

He nodded. “What do we do?”

“I have bad news,” you said gravely. “We’re going to have to break the cuddle.”

“Not the cuddle!” he gasped in horror.

“I’m afraid so.”

He grumbled, but begrudgingly disentangled his limbs from yours. As he sat up, the room seemed to sway slightly, almost as if the entire building were floating in water. He didn’t want to alarm you, so he didn’t mention that the pattern on your wallpaper was definitely, absolutely, one-hundred percent coming to life. The designs gyrated and churned in a nauseating swirl, and he tore his eyes away from it, determined not to abort the mission for a reason as pitiful as tea-induced motion sickness.

He followed you silently to the nest of cushions you’d arranged on the floor, sitting opposite you with his legs crisscrossed. You scooted forward until your knees touched his, and you took his hands, holding them in a loose grip. He stroked his thumb over your palm, and the smile you gave him in return made him forget all about the wallpaper.

“Close your eyes,” you said softly, “and take a slow breath, all the way down to the bottom of your lungs.”

He did as you said, and as he exhaled gradually, he felt his stomach settle and the tension drain out of his shoulders. The pair of you repeated the exercise a few times, and then you asked him to focus on keeping his breath smooth and even. He was starting to feel incredibly relaxed and drowsy, and only his promise not to fall asleep kept him from drifting off.

“Think of somewhere you felt safe and happy,” you said in a low voice. “Picture it in your mind.”

Here. With you. 

“Do you see it?” you asked.

“Yes,” he whispered, envisioning your cozy, colorful little flat as clearly as though he had opened his eyes. 

He was alone in his mental version of the flat, and he took a moment to look around. It was tidier in his mind, with the nest of cushions all put back where they belonged, and no telltale pastry crumbs on the kitchen counter. But aside from that, it was the same, filled with signs of you—the eclectic jumble of teacups on your kitchen shelf; the colorful array of robes hanging on hooks on the wall; the vibrant collection of thrifted art hanging on the walls. It even smelled like your scent. The only thing missing was—

Knock knock.

He turned toward the door in his mind, and then he was standing in front of it without ever having moved his feet. He leaned in to look through the peephole—wait, your door has a holoscreen. The image in his mind warped, and suddenly the holoscreen appeared. You stood outside in the hallway, waiting.

“Will you let me in?” you asked quietly.

Your lips didn’t move in the vision of you he saw within his mind, and he realized you’d spoken the words aloud.

“Yes,” he replied, opening the door.

As you stepped inside, your gaze flicked around the flat, and your breath caught. Too late, Boil realized he’d revealed far more than he intended. He swallowed nervously, bracing himself for your mockery now that you had witnessed the true depth of his feelings for you. 

When you looked at him, though, there was no trace of ridicule in your eyes. You stepped closer and took his hand in yours, and as you did, he felt the soft pressure of a gentle, reassuring squeeze on his physical hands. To his relief, that was the only acknowledgment, though he had a feeling the two of you would be having a long conversation once the effects of the tea had worn off.

“Are you ready?” you asked, and somehow, he knew you’d asked the question directly to his mind.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he replied without speaking.

You smiled. “In that case, I’d like you to meet someone.”

Your gaze shifted to a point over his shoulder, and he turned slowly. A stranger stood behind him, ancient and wrinkled, with eyes that somehow seemed very familiar and very, very kind. A faint blue glow emanated from her, and though she seemed solid enough, Boil had the distinct feeling that if he were to open his eyes, he’d see nothing but you, sitting across from him in a nest of cushions.

“Is this the boy you told me about?” she asked, inspecting him closely.

“Yes,” you replied. “Gran, I’d like you to meet Boil.”

[groundrunner100]

Transformers Television Shows Ranked

(Top show being the best, bottom being worst)

Transformers: Animated

Generation 1, but in a more unique setting, in a good way. Great character designs, interesting backstories, & with great voice acting to boot, the show is lightning in a bottle. Animated Blackarachnia is highlight of the show PERIOD

•Favorite episodes: Total Meltdown, Nanosec, Along Came A Spider, Nature Calls, Black Friday, A Bridge Too Close Parts I & II, TransWarped Parts I, II, & III, Predacons Rising, Endgame Part II.

Best character designs: Blackarachnia, Warpath, Oil Slick, Blackout, Omega Supreme, & Lugnut.

Final Rating: A+.

Transformers: Prime

A BIG, promising show that was unfortunately smoke & mirrors. Having this show connected to the War For Cybertron video games was the biggest mistake Hasbro could make. The connectivity is ridiculously cookie-cutter, & the “stakes” in the show are one-sided. The death of Cliffjumper was nothing but a shocking one-off.

Regardless of this show’s empty promises, there’s plenty to like in this sucker: the character designs, the voice acting, the soundtrack, & you have a show that gives Beast Wars a run for its money.

•Favorite episodes: Masters & Students, Predatory, Sick Mind, Rock Bottom, Partners, T.M.I., Stronger/Faster, Crossfire, Out of The Past, New Recruit, Inside Job, Patch, Regeneration, Rebellion, Thirst, Evolution, & Deadlock.

Best character designs: Arcee, Knouk Out, Smokescreen 2.0, & Optimus Prime 2.0.

Final Rating: A-.

Transformers: Armada

The show that made me a Transformers fan, but dear lord, the conflict of interest behind-the-scenes (animation):

Looking back, I failed to realize just how different Transformers was back then compared to today. The show was unique, & that uniqueness carried through the rest of the Unicron Trilogy, regardless of quality. Suffice to say, I grew up in the right time. Also, the Decepticons had the best drip.

•Favorite Episodes: Past, Past II, Sacrifice, Regeneration, Mars, Crack, Crisis, Miracle, Cramp, & Mortal Combat.

Best character design: Tidal Wave, Starscream, Demolisher, & Megatron.

Final Rating: B+.

Transformers: Generation 1

The show that started it all. I was first introduced to G1 in 2004 at the age of 9 via toys, & was dumbfounded about it. I didn’t start watching the show until the 2010’s rolled around. I watched all 4 seasons of the show, & here’s my thoughts on it:

•Season 1: plenty of fun moments weighed down by rough animation. Favorite episode: Fire In The Sky.

•Season 2: BEST of the show, with new characters, & nice rotation of characters, old & new, to boot. Better animation than 1st season. Favorite episodes: The Autobot Run, Sea Change, The Girl Who Loved Powerglide, Cosmic Rust, & Starscream’s Brigade.

•Season 3: A baffling drop in quality in more ways than 1. Animation errors out the wazoo, an unappealing sound filter for Transformer voices, the Autobots being reduced to 5-6 characters, Galvatron being a batshit lunatic, & you have a recipe for a checked out audience. Favorite episodes (miraculously): Carnage In C-Minor, Webworld, The Ultimate Weapon, Grimlock’s New Brain, & Call of The Primitives.

•Season 4: For those complaining Hollywood has become lazy with TV production, & has reduced viewership to only a handful of episodes per season, BREAKING NEWS: Hasbro did it WAY before anybody else. For just 3 episodes, this should’ve just been part of the 3rd season. My biggest complaint is the coloring, it was just off. It’s like they put in a cool filter for the animation. Didn’t care for these final 3 episodes.

Overall, I don’t hate this show, it’s just there, y’know?

Best character designs: Astrotrain, Afterburner, Brawl, Warpath, Omega Supreme, Powerglide, & Chromedome.

Final Rating: B.

Beast Wars: Transformers

Round 2 of the Generation 1 continuity, & 1 that I enjoy at times, but overall don’t care for, mainly because I don’t care for beast modes:

•Season 1: Rough animation, but a good start to a show. My biggest gripe with the show is that there should have been more characters. Favorite episodes: Chain of Command, Power Surge, Gorilla Warfare, Dark Voyage, The Low Road.

•Season 2: An improvement in animation, but overall a forgettable season. Favorite episodes: Code of Hero, Transmutate.

•Season 3: Mildly the same as season 2, the major highlight being Blackarachnia. I don’t care for Megatron’s dragon form. His season 2 character design was perfect. Favorite episodes: Optimal Situation, Changing of The Guard, Feral Scream Parts 1 & 2, Crossing The Rubicon, & Other Victories.

Best character designs: Transmetal Megatron, Blackarachnia & Rattrap, Optimal Optimus Primal

Final Rating: B-.

Transformers: Cybertron

The final hoorah for the Unicron Trilogy, & what better way to do it than with the BEST intro that Transformers can ask for? Overall, in terms of animation, this show is just noise, but when you pay attention, it has its moments in terms of story, mainly Lori being a spectrum of emotions.

•Favorite Episode: Race.

Best character designs: Ransack, Thunderblast, Vector Prime, & Crumplezone.

Final Rating: C+

Transformers: Prime Wars

Upon retrospect, this show, which was touted as “Game of Thrones of Transformers”, was a prelude of how THAT show would end up. If you do your research, you’ll understand this show was flung in with the IDW Comics’ 1st Transformers line. You have to fucking do HOMEWORK to get the background of this show. But if you have an open mind, the show is something you’ll want to come back to for the memories. Good character designs, great voice acting, & engaging soundtrack. It’s BETTER than Transformers: The Last Knight. Also, DashieXP as Menasor? Mind Nuked. 🤯

•Favorite episodes: The Fall, The Duel, Homecoming, The Fight Begins, Volcanicus, & Saga’s End.

Best character designs: Computron, Volcanicus, Solus Prime, & Grimlock.

Final Rating: C.

Beast Machines: Transformers

Before Transformers: Robots In Disguise 2015, there was this shit stain. The 3rd, & final round of the Generation 1 continuity.

Awful character designs (Maximals only), horrendously one-sided conflict, & a rinse and repeat of “gO gReEn!” messaging bullshit. Cybertron is a planet made of METAL, not dirt! The only good things about this show are Megatron & the Vehicons, MAYBE even the soundtrack if you go through it the finest toothed comb imaginable. How anybody considers this show their favorite Transformers media is beyond me.

Also, those who said that the Bayformers designs are ugly have crap taste in design.

•Favorite episodes (surprisingly): Master of The House, End of The Line, Spark of Darkness, Endgame Parts I, II, & III.

Best character designs: Thrust, Tankor, & Obsidian.

Final Rating: C-.

Transformers: Cyberverse

The SpongeBob of Transformers, & NO, that’s not good in the slightest. I kept & open mind with the show, but as the 1st season went by, I slowly realized that this show just wasn’t for me, & season 2, which begins with a time skip from the season 1 finale, all but killed the show for me. Combine the ridiculously loose story connectivity with the questionable plot choices (Slipstream & the Seekers being killed off), and the batshit unrecognizable voice cast, & it’ll leave you scratching your head if this is a different show, cosplaying as Transformers. This show tries to be like Transformers: Animated, but it fails MISERABLY. The only thing this show’s got going for it is the character designs. Also, you don’t EVER hire a person from fucking TikTok to voice Optimus Prime.

To be fair, though, it was satisfying to see Megatron kill off Starscream without saying a word to him. That is the Transformers equivalent of “Once in a Blue Moon”.

Favorite episodes (miraculously): Shadowstriker, Bad Moon Rising, Trials, & The Other One.

Best character designs: Astrotrain, Trypticon, Grimlock, & Megatron X.

Final Rating: D+

Transformers: War For Cybertron (Netflix)

This show is brand recognition PERIOD

The plot, the tone, the action sequences, & worst of all, the voice acting. These are the reasons why this show is forgettable. But, by the powers that be, it’s strangely rewatchable in some areas, mainly the 2nd half of Siege. But ultimately, this is just Dollar Tree Generation 1, with Beast Wars & Aligned continuity story elements tacked on, & from a lack of story explanation, it doesn’t work. It’s just a poorly executed highlight reel of the Transformers franchise, & that’s it.

If there’s 1 thing, & I mean ONE thing about this show that’s good, it’s the soundtrack. “Ascension” is Steve Jablonsky levels of emotional Transformers music, but that’s the only nice thing I’m going to give it.

The moment that had me fuming was the deaths of Chromia, Red Alert, Jetfire, Scrapface, & the friendly Decepticons. THEY COULD’VE FUCKING TRANSFORMED TO ESCAPE THAT BLAST, & THEY’RE CHOOSING TO FUCKING RUN.

Lastly, was Netflix too fucking cheap to hire normal voice actors?

•Favorite episodes (Somehow): Siege: Episodes 5 & 6, Earthrise: Episodes 3-4, Kingdom: Episodes 4 & 6.

Best character designs: Ultra Magnus, Jetfire, Elita-1, Ironhide, & Starscream.

Final Rating: D.

Transformers: Energon

The redheaded stepchild of the Unicron Trilogy, if not the Transformers franchise. Easily forgettable, but the only thing going for it is the character designs.

•Favorite episode: Farewell Inferno.

Best character designs: Jetfire, Scorponok, Cyclonus, & Optimus Prime.

Final rating: D-.

Transformers: EarthSpark

I REFUSE to watch this show.

Hasbro & Paramount have decided to go balls to the wall with the political messaging in this show. Case & point: Non-Binary characters, I do not fucking accept that camel shit.

Best character designs: Swindle, Megatron, & Wheeljack.

Rating: F.

Transformers: Robots In Disguise (2015)

What happened to Hasbro behind-the-scenes? How did we go from Prime to THIS? This show is the final nail in the coffin for the Aligned Continuity, & there’s no excuse for this drop in quality. Yet, by some act of god, there are diamonds in the rough, mainly Thunderhoof, the Stunticons, Windblade & Optimus Prime’s character designs, but that’s all there is.

•Favorite episodes: Ghosts And Impostors, Cover Me, Portals, & Enemy of My Enemy.

Best character designs: Thunderhoof, Motormaster, Starscream, Saberhorn, Windblade, Shadow Raker, Fracture, & Optimus Prime 4.0

Final rating: F-.

I.👏 HAVE.👏 SPOKEN.👏

[hbyrde36]

for @penny00dreadful

Ch 1 <-

Chapter 2: Yellow Brick Road

WC: 4946 | Ch 2/4 | AO3 <-

They’d been walking for quite a while, nothing to see save for the fields of corn spread out on one side of them, wheat on the other, when they came upon a fork in the road. 

Steve stood in the middle of the intersection, peering as far as he could down one path, and then the other, but there was just no way of knowing where each of the winding roads led. He threw his hands up in frustration before settling them on his hips. “Great, just great. Now what do we do?”

“Convenient how no one thought to mention the road split off.” Eddie grumbled.

“Right or left?”

“Flip a coin?”

Steve shrugged, it was as good a way to decide as anything else. “Sure, why not.” 

Eddie stared at him expectantly. 

“What?” Steve asked.

“Well, I don’t have any money on me.”

“Then why did you suggest flipping a coin?!”

Eddie bristled, as if Steve were the one being ridiculous. “Because you’ve always got spare change on you!” 

“It’s those damn kids, always begging me for quarters for the arcade.”

“Did you ever think if you stopped carrying coins, the little shits would stop hitting you up for them?” 

Steve frowned. “That’s… hmpf.” Because no, he hadn’t, actually. He started to rummage through his front pockets—a feat, frankly, given how tight his pants were, and wondered how big a fit Dustin would pitch if he were to actually stop handing out free money like he was a goddamn ATM machine.

“Hey!” A voice called out. “Dingus one and Dingus two!” 

Steve startled—they hadn’t seen another soul for miles. 

He looked all around for the source of the sound and finally spotted something—a lone figure mounted to a pole just inside the split-rail fence, nestled between a few stalks of corn. One of its arms was propped up, pointing, the other resting at its side. He grabbed Eddie’s hand and rushed towards it, swinging his legs easily up and over the wood planks, glimmering heels and all, before helping the other boy do the same. 

As they got closer he could see that it was a girl made of straw and burlap—a scarecrow, his brain supplied offhandedly, though her face looked remarkably human and alive. 

She winked, and smiled down at them. 

Steve gasped, his eyes raking over the dusting of freckles painted over the girl’s cheeks and nose. “No—No way.” He shook his head, taking another step closer. Was every person in this place a version of someone from home? 

“Robin?” 

The Scarecrow frowned. “Never heard of her.” 

Steve deflated. “Right.”

“Is that the way we’re supposed to go? The way you’re pointing?” Eddie asked, getting right to business as if he were unfazed at this newest encounter. Which was fair. It was pretty tame compared to the horrors of the last alternate dimension they’d been trapped in. 

“That way’s okay.” She said with a small shrug, before dropping her left arm and raising her right—rotating it like a windmill in the process. “But that way’s pretty good too.”

“Very helpful.” Steve deadpanned.

“Of course,” she went on, ignoring him as she crossed one arm over the other—pointing in opposite directions at once. “People do go both ways.”

Eddie snickered, immediately clapping a hand over his own mouth to stifle his laughter. 

Steve felt a rush of heat as he broke out in a full body flush, cheeks flaming. Surely The Scarecrow hadn’t meant—

The thing was, Robin—the real one—had been talking to him a little bit recently about the possibility of going both ways, as it were. He’d been starting to suspect, for no reason in particular, that he might not be as entirely straight as he’d previously thought. 

Okay, fine.

There was a reason, and the culprit, cause, and source of his suspicion was standing right next to him, looking at him with those big brown eyes, sparkling with the last remnants of laughter, and smiling in that very particular way that showed his dimples to full effect. 

It made Steve feel wild, like a swarm of butterflies had taken flight in his stomach. 

He wondered if Eddie knew, if he should tell him, but he wasn’t sure he was ready for that.

It wasn’t the possibility of being bisexual that frightened him. More than a possibility, he supposed—clearly that ship had sailed—what with the way he practically salivated anytime Eddie raised his arms to stretch or reach for something up high, exposing that delicious little strip of tummy and—

Yeah… definitely not straight. 

And he knew the other boy was gay, Eddie and Robin had both come out to the rest of the group a few months ago, so, the possibility was there, but just because Eddie liked guys didn’t mean he liked Steve. 

All of that to say, his fear lay more in the worry of ruining their friendship if Eddie didn’t feel the same way about him.

“We’re looking for the Emerald City, do you know it?” Eddie was asking The Scarecrow when Steve tuned back into the conversation. 

“I can’t say that I do, no, but that’s not much of a surprise. I haven't got a brain, you see.”

“How can you talk without a brain?” Steve asked. 

“Seriously?” She quirked a brow. “Have you heard what comes out of most people's mouths? It’s not that hard.”

Well, she had him there.

“The thing is, my words come out faster than my thoughts sometimes, and I just wind up rambling on-and-on until I stop making any sense at all! No one understands me, and I just know if I had a brain it would solve all my problems. “She sighed wistfully, staring off into the middle distance for a moment before seeming to remember that they were there, and snapped back to attention. “What’s in the Emerald City anyhow?”

“A wizard, hopefully.” Eddie said. 

“We’re going to see if he can help us get back home to Hawkins.” Steve added.

“Hawkins, huh? That’s a funny name.” The Scarecrow mused. “Well, if he’s capable of interdimensional travel, surely he could handle one measly brain. I’ll even take a second hand one, I'm not picky! Can I come with you?”

Steve resisted the urge to point out that her figuring out all on her own that multiple dimensions even existed was proof enough that she did, in fact, have a brain. He didn’t mind the idea of her tagging along, even if she wasn’t Robin.

“It’s fine with me,” he said, looking to Eddie, who nodded his agreement. “We should warn you though, there's a witch after us.”

“I ain’t afraid of nothing except rabies and talking to girls, which is completely normal.” The Scarecrow paused, thinking it over. “And maybe a lighted match.”

With a little finagling they managed to get her down with minimal damage. Steve held her around the waist while Eddie loosened the nail in the back of the pole, and it would have been fine, but in the heels his center of gravity was a little off, not to mention the uneven ground, so when she was set loose and suddenly he was holding all her weight, it put him off balance, sending them both sprawling to the ground. 

She lost a little hay in the fall but quickly shoved it back in, rearranging it this way and that in the front of her top. Steve looked quickly away—it was like watching his sister adjust herself in her bra or something.  

“What? You don’t like boobies?” The Scarecrow asked, finally done fluffing herself up. 

“Not yours!” 

“Well that’s just rude,” she huffed, pushing herself to her feet. She vaulted the fence, and started slowly making her way down one side of the yellow brick road.

Steve glanced up to find Eddie already above him with a hand out ready to help, and he let the other boy tug him to his feet, his skin burning where their palms touched. But Eddie accidentally pulled just a bit too hard and they wound up chest-to-chest, while Steve struggled to find his footing.

“Thanks,” Steve said softly, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his gaze flicked down to Eddie’s mouth, heart beating like a jackhammer. 

“Anytime, Stevie,” Eddie whispered back, sounding just as breathless as Steve felt.

They were so close, it would take nothing at all to just lean in and—

“You dweebs comin’ or what?” The Scarecrow shouted from a few yards away.

They broke apart in surprise, sharing an awkward laugh, and hurried to catch up with their strange new friend.

“It’s Steve and Eddie, actually.”

“I’m starving.” Eddie griped for the dozenth time in the last half hour alone.

It wasn’t like Steve couldn’t sympathize, he was hungry too, but Oz didn’t exactly have a convenience store on every corner, and whining about it incessantly wasn’t helping anyone.

Even if he did find Eddie’s whining to be sort-of… cute.

God, he was in so deep.

Thankfully, as they walked, the scenery began to change and the fields that had been flanking them on either side for so long gave way to a grove of trees, and not just any trees– 

“Oh!” Steve tugged on the other boy’s shirt and pointed excitedly ahead. “Eddie, look, there's a bunch of apple trees.”

Eddie curled his upper lip in disgust.

“Were you, or were you not, just complaining about our lack of food?”

“Yeah, but I was hoping for a cheeseburger or something, not… fruit.”

“Don’t be a baby,” Steve rolled his eyes as he stepped off the path, heading towards the nearest tree, and reached up to pick one of the many shiny, red, and delicious looking apples. 

Before he could even register what was happening, the tree moved, a cluster of its branches wrapping around his wrist like a hand, squeezing tight. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” A deep voice croaked.

A voice that seemed to be coming from The Tree.

Had Steve not faced down a demogorgon, demodogs—plural—the Mind Flayer, an entire swarm of demobats, and fucking Vecna, before, he probably would have been terrified at the prospect of a talking goddamn tree, but when he got over the initial shock he was mostly just annoyed that he couldn’t get himself free. 

He wrenched and pulled but it was no use, until Eddie appeared at his side, taking hold of The Tree’s other arm—if you could call it an arm.

“Hey man, let go!” Eddie yelled at it. “You didn’t have to hurt him, we were just hungry!”

“How would you like to have someone come along and pick something off of you?!” The Tree barked.

Eddie snarled, bending back several of its smallest branches until the thing squealed in pain. It released Steve abruptly and he stumbled sideways, right into Eddie’s arms, and together they backed up to where The Scarecrow stood.    

“It’s alright, Steve. You don’t want any of those apples anyway.” She said, looking down her nose at the offending plant. Er, creature? 

Whatever.

“Are you hinting my apples aren't what they ought to be?!” The Tree grunted.

“That depends, are they supposed to have little green worms?”

“Get out of here or I’ll–” 

“You’ll what? Grow at me?” She taunted.

The Tree growled, struggling in place and waving its branches at her.

The Scarecrow stuck her tongue out, blowing a raspberry at it, and pulled the boys away by their collars. 

They were only a short distance away when she stopped on a dime, whirling back around to face the small orchard. “Get bent by a stiff breeze you weeping willow!”

“What are you doing?!” Steve hissed.

“Getting you some apples, duh,” She shot back. “Come on, catch!”

Steve turned, and sure enough The Tree, along with several of its brethren, were now hurling perfectly ripe apples straight at them. He caught as many as he could, cradling them in the front of his shirt until he couldn’t hold anymore, while The Scarecrow hid behind him. 

Eddie, for his part, tried his best, but sports had never been his thing, and it showed. He wound up on hands and knees chasing after a few of the fruits that had rolled away in the soft grass. 

The other boy was only out of sight for a moment, but Steve’s heart still dropped when he called out from behind a tall shrub.  

Steve rounded the overgrowth in an instant, bracing for whatever new threat had come to find them. He was prepared for a lot of things, a pack of rabid bunnies perhaps, or a sentient rose bush, what he wasn’t prepared to see was a girl made out of tin, and not just any girl—Nancy.

“Nance?”

“I… don’t think that's her name.” The Scarecrow said, circling the other girl’s still form. “I’ve heard of these things. She’s a Tin Woodswoman!”

Steve stared. The girl was frozen like a statue with one arm held aloft wielding an ax, and though she couldn't blink or move her head, her pleading eyes were looking right at him, following him wherever he went. 

Suddenly, a sound much like a squeaky wheel came from between her unmoving lips.

“Was that… did you try to say something?” Steve asked. 

“Ooooooool ca,” The Tin Woman tried again. “oooooooooil–ca”

Steve snapped his fingers. “Oil can! She said oil can!” It didn’t take long to find the small container with its built-in dispenser stashed behind a nearby tree trunk. “Where should we oil her first?”

“You should probably get her consent before you start in on all that.” Eddie muttered.

“Eddie,” Steve glowered. “Be serious.”

“Not that I know much about these things, but maybe start with her mouth so she can talk?” The Scarecrow suggested. 

“Right.” Steve aimed the end of the spout, dispensing a small amount of the liquid to the corners of her mouth.

Within seconds the oil went to work and her lips loosened. “Oh thank goodness I can talk again. Can you oil my arms next, my elbows?” The Tin Woman said.

Steve worked quickly, lubricating all of her joints, but still her one arm was stuck up in the air. Seeing her struggle, Eddie grabbed it and yanked. The limb finally fell, axe and all, the sound of it like an old car door being forced open.

Eddie grimaced. “Oh shit! Sorry, did that hurt?” 

“No, it feels so much better, I’ve been holding that ax up for ages.” The Tin Woman assured him, taking a few tentative steps. She only creaked a little. 

“What happened to you?” Eddie asked.

“Misread the forecast. About a year ago I came out to cut a tree down when it started to rain. I rusted solid—mid-chop!”

Curious, Steve continued to examine her, wondering what enabled her to walk and talk. Not that it was any weirder than The Scarecrow, really. He knocked on her middle, the sound reverberating like a drum. 

“Wow! What an echo! How’d you pull that off?” The Scarecrow asked.

“It always sounds like that.” The Tin Woman shrugged. “I guess the tinsmith forgot to give me a heart.”

The Scarecrow gasped, “no heart?!”

“No heart,” The Tin Woman sighed, hanging her head. “It’s not that I mind not having one exactly, they are easily breakable from what I understand. It's just that, well, it makes me come off kinda cold, y'know?” 

Now, this wasn’t Nancy, Steve knew that, but damned if he hadn’t had the same thought about her once or twice after she’d so thoroughly crushed him, calling him and his love bullshit that night in the bathroom at Tina’s Halloween party—and the betrayal that had come after.

Heartless. 

He knew it wasn’t strictly true. Those were the thoughts of a boy who’d had his heart stomped on by the first girl he’d ever given it to. Nancy had the capacity to love, and fiercely. He’d seen it in the way she protected the people she cared about, willing to do anything to keep them safe—including him. She just didn’t love him in the romantic way. It had taken him a long time to accept that, to be okay with it and get over her, but as he looked into Eddie’s eyes over the top of The Tin Woman’s pointed funnel hat, he knew it’d all been for the best. 

Nancy had a heart, she just didn’t always know how to show it, and he was willing to bet this Tin Woman had one too.

“You should come with us!” The Scarecrow said.

The Tin Woman tilted her head. “Where are you going?”

“We’re going to see a wizard! Eddie—that’s the long haired one.” The scarecrow leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “And Steve here are trying to get home. I'm in the market for some brains, and I’m sure the wizard could manage a heart for you too!”

“Do you really believe he’ll get you home?” The Tin Woman asked, turning to Steve.

“I hope so, we’ve come such a long way already.” He said.

A shrill cackling laughter filled the air, and in a plume of red smoke The Wicked Witch appeared out of nowhere, atop the roof of a nearby log cabin.  

“Long? You call that long? Why, you’ve only just begun!” She sneered down at them, turning her attention on the two newest members of their little party. “And you two lovely ladies, helping them along are you?”

“Yeah, what of it?!” The Scarecrow taunted.

“Stay away from them, or I'll stuff a mattress with you!”

“And you—” The Witch paused, pointing the tip of her broom down at the Tin Woman. “I'll use you for a beehive.” 

“You wouldn’t dare.” The Tin Woman growled.

“Oh, the crumpled up wad of aluminum foil wants to play with fire, huh? Let’s see how your highly flammable friend fares against this—” The Wicked Witch raised her hand palm up, conjuring up a fist full of flame that she hurled at their feet.

The Scarecrow shrieked and threw herself to the side, even Steve and Eddie shrank back from the heat of it, but The Tin Woman, who had nothing to fear from a little unfriendly fire, quickly put it out, using her hat to smother the blaze. By the time it was done, The Wicked Witch was gone. 

“You weren’t kidding about a witch being after you!” The Scarecrow said. 

“About that,” Steve began, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think it would be best if Eddie and I traveled the rest of the way alone. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to either of you because of us.”

The Scarecrow narrowed her eyes. “Not a chance. I'll see you safely to the Wizard, whether I get a brain or not.”

“Me too!” The Tin Woman agreed.

-

Not long after their confrontation with The Wicked Witch, they continued on their journey down the yellow brick road, where their surroundings changed yet again. The scattered trees thickened into dense woods, dark where the canopy blocked out most of the sun, and the air was filled with the sinister sounds of unfamiliar wildlife. 

“I know I said I wasn’t afraid, but I don't like this forest. It’s dark and creepy.” The Scarecrow said.

Steve shrugged, bumping his shoulder against Eddie’s. “We've seen worse. Anything is better than a sky full of demobats, right?”

“What’s a demobat?” The Scarecrow asked.

“It’s like a regular bat,” Steve began. “Except… not at all? They’re bigger than you might think, with gray leathery flesh, and wings, and these long tails they like to choke you with. Their mouths are small but don’t let that fool you, they’re full of razor sharp teeth.”

Eddie glanced at him sideways, a crooked grin playing on his mouth and a light blush spreading across his face. “I dunno, Harrington. I’d pay good money to see you take a bite out of one of those little fuckers again.”

Steve grinned back, cheeks burning under Eddie’s attention. “That so, Munson?”

The Tin Woman gaped at them. “What is wrong with you two?” 

If possible, Steve’s face grew even hotter, but as luck would have it a series of bellowing roars sounded off in the distance, and their flirtation, if it was indeed that, was quickly forgotten.

“What was that?” The Scarecrow whisper-shouted.

“Lions?” Eddie guessed.

Deep growls filled the forest next.

The Tin Woman hung onto the Scarecrow’s arm. “And tigers.”

Steve strained to listen for what else might be out there, and heard a long huff and a distinct gnashing of teeth. “And bears.”

“That doesn’t seem right, all in the same woods?” Eddie murmured skeptically. “Lions, and tigers, and bears?”

“Oh shit.” Steve shouted as something came barreling out of the trees and onto the path, coming straight for them.

They all reared back, cowering away from the oncoming threat and The Tin Woman stumbled in the process, dropping her axe to the brick road with a clang.

Steve scrambled to pick up the fallen weapon, twirling it out of habit as he took up a spot in front of his people, stepping between them and the overgrown stuffed toy who for whatever reason seemed to mean them harm. In hindsight he should have known better than to expect Eddie to stay back with the others and let him handle it, for as much as the guy liked to call himself a runner and a coward, not once had he backed down from a fight when the safety of his friends was in question.

Now being a prime example. 

Armed with nothing more than Steve’s tied-together discarded sneakers, which he was swinging around wildly like every teen boy who saw The Karate Kid in theaters and decided to try their hand at nunchucks, Eddie joined Steve at his side, facing their foe head on. 

“Put ‘em up, put ‘em up!” The Lion sneered.

Steve was pretty sure he’d had footie pajamas that looked like this guy once. 

Mid swing, the laces on Steve’s sneakers came loose from their knot, and one of the shoes went flying out of Eddie’s hands, beaming the lion right in the forehead with a loud smack. 

The beast’s paws flew to his head, cradling it as he began to cry hysterically. “What’d you do that for, I didn’t bite him!”

Eddie furrowed his brow, looking from the pathetic sobbing creature to Steve and back again. “Were you… going to bite him?”

“...No?”

Steve scoffed.

The lion moved his giant mitts from his face, tilting it up into the light. “I-Is my nose bleeding?”

“It would serve you right if it was!” The Scarecrow scolded.

Now that Steve had a better look at the guy, he realized he’d seen The Lion’s eyes somewhere before. He peered closer, squinting into the oddly humanoid looking face when it clicked.

He looked back at Eddie and mouthed, ‘Jonathan.’

Eddie snorted.

“Hey, can’t you see he’s just scared?” The Tin Woman said, pushing them both gently aside. She gazed down at The Lion with a telling softness in her eyes, and took up the end of his tail, drying his tears with it. “There now, that’s better.”

He blinked up at her in awe. “I-I’m sorry.”

She patted his hand and smiled. “Now, do you want to tell us what that was all about?”

“Oh, I'm just a stupid coward is all.”

“I don’t know about that,” Steve cut in. “I mean, you did come after the four of us all by yourself.”

“Naw, that’s not being brave. I saw you coming and I got scared, like I always do, and decided to lash out first before you could do the same to me. If I was really brave I'd have just come out and said hello.”

“Well, no harm done I guess, but we should really get going.” Steve said.

“But we can’t just leave him here all alone.” The Tin Woman insisted. “What if we brought him along? Maybe The Wizard can help him too. Even if not, the world is much less terrifying when you’re not alone.”

Steve couldn’t help but look Eddie’s way at that, feeling the truth of her words in his soul. They’d been through so much together since their fraught beginnings at the boathouse—made countless trips into the Upside Down before it’d been destroyed, faced Vecna and his hoard of monsters, twice, and it’d all been that much easier to bear because they’d been together.

Eddie nodded as if he’d heard all of Steve’s innermost thoughts though he hadn’t said a thing out loud, and he knew they were on the same page.

“The more the merrier, I guess.”

-

Before long they reached the edge of the forest, which opened up into a sprawling meadow full of bright flowers in shades of red, pink, purple, and orange, growing right over the yellow brick road. That sight alone was enough to take Steve’s breath away, but it wasn't the only thing that caught his attention. Just on the other side of the vast ocean of blossoms was a cluster of tall brilliantly green buildings, a city, shining just like the emerald gemstones it was named for. 

“There’s The Emerald City!” Steve shouted, pointing towards the horizon excitedly. “Oh, look! Eddie, we’re almost there!”

But Eddie didn’t respond, he was squatting down at the edge of the growth, eyeing the colorful blooms with suspicion. 

“What is it?” Steve asked.

Eddie turned concerned eyes up at him. “Something doesn’t feel right about this, like maybe it’s some sort of trap?”

“How can flowers be a trap?”

“Well, for one thing they’re not just any flowers, they’re poppies.”

Steve crinkled his brow. “Okay…”

“Poppies? Y’know, the thing they use to make opium?”

“Oh!”

“What’s opium?” The Scarecrow asked.

“I don't think they have drugs here.” Steve said.

Eddie tilted his head thoughtfully, and shrugged. “That’s fair, no need to trip balls when you already have talking trees.”

“So what do you want to do?” Steve asked. 

“I don’t like it, but it doesn’t look like we have much choice. The only way to the Emerald City is through it, so.” Eddie shook his head, pushing himself back to his feet, and reached for Steve's hand. “I guess we’ll go as quickly as we can, and hope for the best.”

The unlikely quintet formed a chain of linked hands and ran together as a unit through the vibrant meadow. At first Steve thought Eddie had been wrong, that it was just an innocent field of wildflowers, but by the time they’d reached the top of the first small hill he was gasping for air, and his legs felt like they were pushing through molasses, unusual for someone who exercised regularly, jogging at least four times a week.

“Wait, wait.” Steve panted, leaning heavily into Eddie as he tried to regain his breath.

“Steve?” Eddie looked him up and down, worrying his bottom lip.  

“I can’t run anymore, I–I’m,” Steve cut himself off with a yawn. “I’m so sleepy.” He wobbled in place, knees going weak. The other boy caught him around the middle, lowering him gently to the ground.

“What’s wrong with him?” The Scarecrow asked.

“I don’t know.” Eddie said, studying his face as he hovered over him, eyes wild with panic.

“I have to rest for just a minute.” Steve babbled, knowing it sounded ridiculous. They were so close to their destination, he could practically see the individual windows on the buildings of the Emerald City, and suddenly he wanted to take a nap? Something wasn’t right, but he couldn't seem to fight it. 

The Lion yawned loudly. “Now that you mention it, catching a few winks doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” He swayed on his feet, kept upright only by The Tin Woman’s grip on him.

The next thing Steve knew, Eddie was gently prying his eyelids open, though he didn’t remember closing them. “Fuck, I knew something was off about these flowers. It’s that damn Wicked Witch, it has to be!”

Not that Steve was paying much attention to what he said, because god was Eddie pretty like this—his big brown eyes even larger and more beautiful up close, so dreamy, with his dark curls hanging down around him like a curtain. 

Eddie's lips parted in surprise as his hands still cradled Steve’s face. “What did you just say?”

Oh shit, in his tired stupor had he actually said some of that out loud?

“Eddie, I–” Steve managed to force out, but Eddie swayed above him, eyes rolling back in his head for a moment before he tipped sideways, falling gracelessly to the ground beside him. 

It was becoming harder and harder to keep his eyes open, and Steve knew it was only a matter of time before he succumbed to the magical sleep that was pulling him under. He turned his head and found Eddie looking at him too, doing the same long blinks, both of them fighting a losing battle. 

With his last bit of strength Steve reached out, and Eddie reached too, clasping their hands between their bodies, fingers entwining with practiced ease like they were made to fit together.

As Steve’s eyes slipped shut there was another thunk nearby, the distinct sound of a body hitting the ground, something he had unfortunately heard enough times to know, and could only assume The Lion must have been felled by the same thing that’d gotten them. 

The last thing he heard as his consciousness faded away, were the terrified shouts of The Scarecrow and The Tin Woman calling out for help.

Chapter 3

Thanks again to @pearynice and @hitlikehammers for all your help with this!

[saras-devotionals]

Quiet Time 3/19

What am I feeling today?

Tired but excited and grateful! Today is my last clinical rotation on the stroke unit and as much as I enjoyed it, I’m really looking forward to being able to rest and have my Tuesdays open!

Bible Plan: Spiritual Wilderness

In my younger years, it was hard for me to continue my devotions when I didn’t feel His presence for a while. It was discouraging, but I have learned a few things that have changed my perspective.

One thing I learned is that God promises to reward those who fervently seek Him, not who only find Him. We don’t seek God because He is lost. He is always near to us because His Spirit lives within us. We go to prayer not to find God but to be with Him. With that said, there are seasons in life where it seems and feels like His manifest presence is gone.

During these seasons you must understand that God is building up your faith since Jesus is the author and perfecter of your faith. Without faith, it is impossible to please God, and this faith gets stronger as your feelings get weaker. You are forced to rely only on God’s Word, not on your feelings or experiences. In seasons of your spiritual wilderness, only faith can help you come closer to God. If you live by your feelings, you will feel distant from God. When you go to God’s throne in spite of your negative feelings, you are building your faith.

I find it encouraging that He is not a rewarder of those who feel or experience Him but of those who do their best to seek Him.

King David was called “a man after His own heart”. God didn’t say that David had His heart; he was simply after it. David was in constant pursuit of God. In reading the Psalms that he wrote, we see his heart’s journey into the presence of God. At times he would complain that he didn’t feel God, yet he was still seeking after Him. God likes that. He wants us to pursue Him, even when we don’t feel like it.

In fact, not only does God love that we pursue Him, but He also rewards us. This truth has been the source of my encouragement. I don’t submit to my feelings, but I let my faith grow by going to God no matter what’s happening in my life.

There’s so much to get from this and I thought it was incredible! First off, seeking Him over finding Him. You can find God once because He’s not far from any one of us, but seeking Him is a daily thing. You have to consistently go after Him day after day, acknowledging Him when you feel like it is not biblically sound.

Additionally with the seeking, relying on His word instead of your feelings. The heart is deceitful and your feelings are not always accurate. We can sometimes let ourselves be controlled by our feelings and let them direct how we operate but that can lead us down the wrong path. God’s word will always be right and ready for you, so read it, use it, apply it, keep it in your heart!

1 Samuel 13:13-14 NIV

““You have done a foolish thing,” Samuel said. “You have not kept the command the Lord your God gave you; if you had, he would have established your kingdom over Israel for all time. But now your kingdom will not endure; the Lord has sought out a man after his own heart and appointed him ruler of his people, because you have not kept the Lord’s command.””

For reference, this is Samuel rebuking Saul and the one who talks about in regard to who the Lord has sought out is David. Even though David struggled a lot, He always sought after God, seeking Him daily and I really want to imitate that as best I can.

Hebrews 11:6 NIV

“And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.”

I mean this is very self explanatory and emphasizes the importance of our faith and seeking after God every single day.

Hebrews 12:1-2 NIV

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”

“Let us run with perseverance” -> I want to place some emphasis on this. We can get tired and weary in our walk with God, especially when we’re in the spiritual wilderness where even our own emotions can be attacking our faith. But God wants us to persevere, we need to have our hearts set on the goal of it all, to be reunited with God after death! Also, Jesus is meant to guide us in this! He’s the perfected of our faith! Without him, we’d have no chance in having a relationship with God and it’s important to remember and be grateful for what he did for us on the cross.

[raccoonfallsharder]

blackmail material (almost-smut for your monday ♡)

part three is so close to being done and i’m actually really happy with it. just had to shake off my commitment to my original concept/opening (will recycle that later or share as-is here).

⭑ read parts 1 & 2 (18+ only & mind the ao3 tags)

⭑ part 3 will be posted on monday, october 23

see behind the cut for a little taste though because mondays are rough and you deserve something nice.

“I wish everyone was nice to you,” you tell him frankly.

Rocket makes a scoffing noise, and then goes quiet. When he speaks again, his voice is measured. Careful. “Quill’s been getting on my last frickin’ nerve this past cycle.”

Since the Night of the Vibrator, you think. Your brow creases. “At least nobody else has said anything. Or have they? To you?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think they know. But Quill - he’s been giving me dirty looks for rotations now.”

You scowl. “I want dirty looks,” you say. “He’s been giving me these wounded-puppy stares and lecturing me.”

He snickers. “I was thinkin’.”

“Oh no,” you say lightly, and you can practically hear him roll his eyes. When he doesn’t go on, you prompt him with another little bump to his shoulder. “What were you thinking?”

You hear him make a sound with his tongue on his teeth, like he’s almost regretting saying anything at all. But then he speaks: a study in forced casualness. The words grind softly against the night-cold air, leaving little bits of gravel and frost-chips in their wake.

“Might as well do something to deserve ‘em.”

You grow still. It’s not so much a freezing - it’s just that the movement evaporates off your skin and everything inside you goes very quiet, like the wind dropped out of a blossoming branch. Slowly - carefully - you turn to face him. Your eyes strain through the darkness, searching, trying to find something in his face that you can read in the shadows. A moth floats between you and the passing light sweeps over him. His face is all carelessness - on the surface. You think, if you could see him more clearly, you’d be able to tell how much of it is a sham.

You hear him swallow, and yeah, that confirms it. Your heart aches a little for his uncertainty. You tuck your knees in and roll onto your hip. His face snaps toward you. This close, you can see him a little more clearly: soft and shadowed, but features visible. Eyes wide. You wait for a heartbeat - a pulse - then continue your path: slowly slinging one leg up and over his lap, giving him time to change his mind or shove you away. But he doesn’t, and you carefully rest your wrists on his shoulders: twisting one hand sideways so you can card through the fur on the back of his neck, and flexing the other one downward so you can slip your fingertips delicately under the collar of his jumpsuit. You avoid the metal buttons and bolts on his back, just stroking the top of his shoulderblade delicately. Your weight is balanced on your knees and shins, and from this angle, he’s eye-level with your breasts, their shape muffled by the soft folds of your loose sweatshirt.

His hands come up instinctively. You feel them fumble at your waist - then grip the folds of your sweatshirt at your hips, like he’s not sure what to do with them. Not for any lack of appetite or direction, you think. No - it feels like he’s still uncertain what he’s allowed to do.

If Rocket could see inside your pretty head, he’d be able to tell you that you’re right. Not that he would tell you that. But of course you’re right, he’d think. You’ve made it your silly mission to know him so well, to understand as many little pieces as he’s given you, and even more he’d never meant to drop along the way. And no matter how blind you are in the moment, Rocket can see you perfectly well. He knows exactly where he wants his hands: digging his fingers deep into the plush curve of your ass, getting his palms full of you and squeezing ‘til you whine. He’d already filed his claws two rotations ago, just in case he got fuckin’ lucky enough to get his hands on you again. A pipe dream, he’d thought at the time - but here he frickin’ is, grateful he’d done it anyway.

And now you’ve got your pretty tits in his face, just a layer of fabric away - maybe one of those pathetic little bras underneath, like it could protect you from his teeth if he wanted to get at ‘em. He can hear your heartbeat: a little throbbing thud drumming against your breastbone, picking up speed.

You tilt into him, pressing your soft mouth to the crown of his head, then curl at your waist and dip your face so you can drop another kiss at the corner of his mouth. He shudders. You reach into that glowing space above your solar plexus, and draw up all your courage like a shimmery champagne-silver filament of light. You spool it into the base of your throat and then thread it into your words, your voice.

“Okay,” you tell him. “Let’s do something to deserve them.” You fight to keep your breath steady, but it’s already shivering and silvered, soft as moth wings. You try to mask it with a wink. “All the dirty looks and woeful lectures.”

@evolvingchaoswitch ♡ @wren-phoenix ♡ @pretty-chips ♡ @suicidalshitstick

[he-goes-down]

A Guide to playing GnR Mermaids - shit post

(Explaining why we do this so some of you dont look at me weirdly:

My friend and I haven’t seen eachother in years, and before I went away I was also obsessed with gnr and we did this, so it’s really just bringing back nostalgia)

- in the pool(ofc) - 2 people edition

- my storyline change it however you please

Preparation:

- figure out your love interests

- 2 each

- you will be playing each-others love interests

- the member left is the clinically insane one that will make plot points ( will be in-love with both of you to make things interesting)

- aswell as make a phrase that they never stop saying

-( we chose Axl for this one and not sharing our secret phrase 🤫)

- figure out how you’re going to style your hair to show different characters

(if you dont got hair improvise)

-( for this, an example we did:

Axl: use hair as mustache

Slash: flip hair up underwater so you look like George Washington

Duff: hair up at the back, like using a claw clip.

Izzy: hair down to the side like a braid

Steven: hair fully to the side like an emo style )

- next choose your colour tails obv

- next chose your powers, including the guys

-( For this we did:

Axl: Fire

Slash: Nature

Duff: Air

Izzy: Darkness

Steven: Light ) (we actually forgot we did this part)

- lastly choose your spawning point, is it a specific oceanic place in real life, or just a simple lagoon, ect.

-( we chose Cape Town)

Chapters will now be very specific to our story line

Chapter 1:

- You spawn in

- Go to a bar/ club ect.

- make up an excuse to separate

- Whoever’s love interest is Slash, the other person has to now be in character.

- Slash comes to flirt with said person

- add details, like why he’s here, and that he’s in a band ect.

- he gives you his (shellphone) number

- friend comes back, chat about it

- other friend goes to do something

- clinically insane character comes along - say the most outrageous shit - doesnt matter how much you retaliate he keeps coming back

- tries to get your number (you can choose if you give it to him or force him to give to your so you never text him.)

- he leaves somehow

- friend comes back, talk about outrageous man, ect

- just keep rotating through meeting characters and setting up dates for when to meet up.

(- clinically insane bitch likes both of you so have fun with that as you will)

- when the insane one is in scene, maybe ask and point to one of your love interests asking for their numbers and he makes an excuse to why you shouldn’t do that

-(example:

Friend - “ That blonde one over there is in your band, can I have his number?”

Insane - “ uhh he’s actually gonna die tonight cus he got this infectious disease so don’t go near him.”) (sumthing to that extent)

- i don’t remember the rest just have fun and do whatever

- make the insane guy get arrested for funzies (optional)

Chapter 2:

- next day

- find out insane one has escaped jail ( optional ) (ALL ARRESTS ARE OPTIONAL THIS WAS SPECIFIC TO US)

- bump into different characters, all love interests asking to meet at the same time. At their crib

- (example: my interests were Izzy and Duff

- Izzy: “okay 3pm my place”

-*later*

- Duff: “Ive been looking for you, heres chocolate and flowers, wanna come to my place at 3?”

-someone: “thank you, but Izzy already asked me”

- izzy and duff live together

- “nah izzy wont mind.” )

- Insane one shows up running from the police

- him ready looking like he finna kill whoever gave the chocolates, flowers /ect.

- says sum deranged stuff

- (example:

“Insane: “you haven’t texted me yet *looks at you with my crazy eyes*

Someone: “uhh, my dog ate my phone but the cover with my credit card is still intact”

Insane: “oh okay, because I have you as my pfp.”

Someone: “huh?!

Insane: “Yeah it’s your perfect hair, no split end in sight.”

*later*

Someone: “oh my lord he has me as his pfp”

The other one: “ARENT THOSE YOUR BEDSHEETS IN THE BACKROUND???”

*later*

Insane: -to the other person- “I got your toe hairs as my wallpaper bbg” )

- add in more interactions

- we also added the crazy guy getting chased by the police and trying to take shelter in one of yours houses

- do your scheduled timings

- (example: - 3pm rolls around - my story

Someone: *knocks on door*

Duff: “Come in”

Someone: “Thank you, where’s Izzy?”

Duff: “Uh…in his room.”

Someone: “Oh okay”

- then pick a movie or something, (we chose Hamilton)

- do a house tour, his room has photos of you in but you didn’t see

Someone: “Izzy is supposed to be here, should we not go get him”

Duff: -makes excuses but you get him to take you to the room-

Duff: * unlocks door* * gets yelled at by Izzy* *Izzy drags him inside and runs out of his room locking the door*

Izzy: “Don’t worry about him, he’s like a baby, he needs a nap every few seconds”

- watch some of the movie

- make some moves

- ( we did that Izzy asked them to be his bae but you dont have to do that)

-( also they apparently fucked for 10 hours CUS MY FRIEND SAID *10 hours later* after they went to a room)

Someone: *opens the door for Duff*

Duff: *traumatised at the noises he’s heard*

- we made Duff Izzy and them a throuple

- but Izzy said to think about it and say the next morning. )

- after your adventures go home to your friend

- run into the house and start boarding the windows and doors with wooden planks because the insane one was chasing after you.

- call your baes to look after you cus the police can’t do their job

- he does get arrested tho (again)

*next day*

- insane one in prison calling one of you

- you thinking its your bae and saying some coupley stuff or whatever but make sure it’s directed at one of your interests

- * screaming, bombs, and destruction on the other line*

- “ HE ESCAPED AGAIN”

Chapter 3:

- to be continued

- do whatever 🫶

Chapter 3 and 4 are in my notes im just a bit to lazy to write it

Chapter 5 and up are not gonna be out for like maybe 2 years cus I wont see my friend again for that long

Don’t look at me like im crazy we laughed ever single second

This isn’t meant to be taken seriously its just some innocent fun

[television-bodies]

hello please tell me 1. Your top 5 underrated les mis fics and 2. Your favourite les mis fic writers

thank you so much for this because thinking about it really did get me through the rest of my journey last night. i have continued to think about it this morning and could continue even more! my answer to this is ever-changing (especially because i get myself into a spiral of What Classes Something As Underrated…) But for now!:

i literally just reread a grindr love story yesterday afternoon and i had forgotten how much i love it. genuinely hilarious. laughed out loud at multiple points

on a very different note: into the light is sad. i highly recommend it

if i could write you a song to make you fall in love (i would already have you up under my arm) is a recent favourite! glorious exr, and i love grantaire & eponine friendship always

i don’t know how many people other than myself are still into montparnasse/jehan these days but oh, we’re so disarming, darling is TOP TIER. such gorgeously smooth dialogue, i could cry about it. i rotate it in my brain

the season underwater has more interactions than the rest of these but it should have all the interactions in the world so i’m counting it and putting it on the list. this fic changed me as a person. not even a montparnasse/jehan fic but you can blame it for getting me into them, if you like. i think about it all the time and cannot recommend it highly enough

favourite writers is also something i could think about forever and my answer would probably change every time you ask me. but again i must answer… currently very much enjoying the work of tamquams and this anonymous author! dannyPURO is an all time fave, i love serinesaccade…. and like everybody else in this corner of the internet i owe my life to ark

thank you very much once again! i love to talk about things i love. there were so many i could have included on this list that i haven’t, maybe i’ll have to do a full rec list someday. <3 fics <3

[obsessedwithtoomanythings]

The Terrifying Ordeal of Falling in Love with Leon Kennedy

CHAPTER 8

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Reader (female reader)

Series Warnings: Minor injuries, Leon teases reader a lot, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Drinking, Drinking followed by driving, DO NOT DO THAT THIS IS FICTION, Anxiety, Leon S. Kennedy has PTSD, Leon has an anxiety attack, Anxiety Attacks, Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Nightmares, Leon S. Kennedy has Nightmares, Cuddling & Snuggling, Probably incorrect medical talk, Strangulation in one tiny little scene, Reader's brother was a cop who was KIA, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Grief/Mourning, Christmas Fluff, Mistletoe, Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, Arguing, Love Confessions, Looking for Alaska is mentioned, Inconvenient Love Confessions, Penis In Vagina Sex, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Leon loves eating Pussy change my mind, Shower Makeout, romantic smut, Desperate Leon S. Kennedy, They are both desperate for each other tbh, They say I love you as they come, Scar Kissing, Enthusiastic Consent, Always pee after sex, UTI PREVENTION, POV First Person, No use of Y/N

Words: 950

Masterlist

July 2004

It’s a quarter after one

I’m all alone and I need you now

Said I wouldn’t call but I lost all control and I need you now

And I don’t know how I can do without

I just need you now

-Need You Now, Lady A

My bedroom door opening is what pulls me from sleep. The hallway light is on, shining through the crack in the door, and I squint in the harsh yellow lighting. A figure stands there, dark against the glow, and I feel my heart race for a minute as they quickly shut the hallway light off, door still cracked open.

“Leon?” A muttered ‘shit’ under his breath. I can see his shoulders rise with a huff of frustration.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he says apologetically, face scowling his disappointment once my eyes have adjusted. A quick glance at the clock on my nightstand. 2:28am.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, sitting up on my side, resting on my forearm that’s pressed under my pillow.

“Nothing.” He needs to get better at lying to me. “I’ll let you go back to-”

“You know, for a secret agent, you’re kind of shit at lying.” Leon pauses, hand clasping the doorknob, half of his frame out the doorway when he finally looks back. His eyes are swirling with fear, and in the darkness, I can almost make out a tear track down one of his cheeks before he rubs a hand across his face.

“I had a nightmare. I was just…” He trails off.

“Just what?”

“Just nothing. Forget it.” He’s closing off.

“Leon?” I attempt to get his attention, and I can tell from the irritated way he turns that this will be the last time he acknowledges me about this issue. Picking my words carefully, trying to think of the best way to convince him to share what’s on his mind.

“What, Nurse Nosy?” I scoot back toward the other side of my bed, still facing him before pulling the covers back. A silent invitation. Baby blues scanning. Weighing his options. I pat the spot I vacated. Then he’s moving. Door closing as he steps back into the room and walks toward the bed before climbing in. He lays his head down on the pillow, still indented from my head, pulling the covers over himself before finally glancing at me, still sitting up, looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky. I flop back down onto my back dramatically and I feel a puff of air against my hair and ear as he chuckles.

“You don’t have to talk about it.” I’m looking at him now, focused on his breaths that tickle my nose as I rotate onto my side. “But just know, I’m always here.” His hand reaches forward, finding my waist to tug my small frame into his covered broad chest, his chin delicately resting against the top of my head. He needs comfort right now. My arm seems so small against his muscles, palm pressed to his shoulder blade in a hug. The silence of the room is only broken by the whirring of my fan in the corner, acting as a source of white noise. His warmth along with his heartbeat against my cheek is almost enough to lull me back into the hands of sleep. Then he speaks.

“You were there.” I’m not tired anymore.

“Sorry?”

“In Raccoon City. You were there in my nightmare.” He pauses, taking in a breath, his heart stuttering inside his chest. “You were hurt, and I tried so hard to fix it, but…” I run my hand in comforting circles across his shoulder blade as he pauses, taking a breath. “You turned. And I had to…” Oh.

He came in here to make sure I was still alive.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, Superman.”

“Superman?” He questions the nickname, and I can hear the smile that adorns his lips.

“Yeah. You’re basically Superman.” Words mumbled into his chest, his arm underneath my head bending to run fingers through the strands that have fallen free from the messy bun at the top of my head.

“I couldn’t save Marvin. Or…” He stops. Silence. I pull back enough to finally look into the man’s blue eyes that are brimming with tears, and I can see the exertion he’s using to contain them.

“Leon,” I begin. “You can’t save everyone.”

Then the dam breaks. Face pressing into my chest, arms squeezing around my waist; I can feel the wet spot in the middle of my shirt grow, his silent sobs causing his body to tremble as I hold him, fingers threading through his hair until the shaking slows, then stops. I take a glance down at him, moving his soft blonde locks away from his face to take him in. Red cheeks, tear streams, heaving breaths.

“Do you wanna sleep like this?” I whisper, and he shakes his head no before sitting up to quickly remove his shirt, laying back down before gesturing to me to turn around. I question it for a split second, following anyways before he tugs me backwards. Hips pressed to my ass, chest against my back, one arm underneath my pillow, the other slung over my hips. The skin that makes contact with his on my back licks with a fiery heat, tank top having ridden up enough to expose the patch of skin right above my panty line. His warm breath brushes against my neck and goosebumps rise along my skin before he presses a tender kiss to the skin below my hairline. I swear, my heart leaps from my chest as a shiver rolls down my spine.

“You cold?” He asks and I aggressively nod yes, trying to hide the true nature of the electricity that just zapped across every nerve ending I have. Leon tugs the blanket up a bit higher before settling again. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Leon.”

Leon: @house-of-kolchek @bonnibuckets @athanasia-day @muffimtv Everything: @chaosandbubbles @kassiekolchek22 @akiramoon8088

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 703: The third years' gaze

Pag 1

1: In the same place as back then, in the same car.....

And also.... with the same feelings!!

Pag 2

1: There's already an 8 minutes gap

2: He has no chance if he doesn't increase his rotation of another 10 turns, sho

3: Raise your cadence of another 30 turns!!

4: Yessir!!

8: I wonder why I can't keep my eyes off Onoda now

Pag 3

1: Finally, the beginner Onoda....

He caught up to Naruko too!!

Hahaha

Onoda-kun is amazing.... he.... he passed five people...!!

2: This race got interesting...

3: People

4: Can grow surprisingly fast

5: I learned it from Naruko-kun earlier

6: Onoda stood up!!

Pag 4

3: Princeeess!!

4: Waaaaaaaagh!!

5: Waaaaaaaaaa

Amazing, sho!! It's a dream, sho!!

Hahahaha

6: Ohhhhh

7: That was a good race

Rest now, retire

Pag 7

4: Kakaka “that day two years ago”?

If Kinjou-san and the other third years were feeling like this while watching our race?

5: Yeah

6: In this car

Same as us!!

7: And looking at the same cours.... huh!!

Pag 8

1: Like our hearts are dancing now while watching the first years' desperate battle before our eyes

Kinaka!!

We got closer!!

Tch

2: That Captain Shades, and the old man, and Makishima-san, were worrying and rejoicing while watching us run? That what you're sayin?

Pag 9

1: Definitely!!

6: Yeah, they were extremely excited

Pag 10

1: That's right!! Kanzaki, you were riding the van that time!!

Well, yes

Ya!! That means Touji-san was driving the car, too!!

2: Ohhhh

3: His expression didn't change, but Kinjou was smiling

Onoda.... he said he couldn't keep his eyes off you

4: Huh!? Eyes!?

Really? Aaahhh...!!

5: Tadokoro screamed “amazing” so loud at your “sprint climbing”, Naruko

Kakaka, seriously!? Of course he did!! But the old man never said a word about it!! Why!! I guess he was shy!!

Pag 11

1: Imaizumi.... Kinjou kept saying until the end that you would be the one to take Minegayama's peak in the first years' race

2: Yeah

3: Kakaka but you lost to Onoda-kun

Shut up, you lost to me at the finish line

Ugh-!

4: Makishima-san....

6: He said that it would be impossible for Onoda-kun to catch up with Imaizumi-kun and Naruko-kun

Pag 12

2: But when Onoda-kun caught up, and Naruko-kun pushed his back and he ran up the mountain

3: And then he won against Imaizumi-kun at the peak

6: Goooo Onodaaa!!

Pag 13

1: He cheered for Onoda-kun the loudest

Pag 14

3: No no no, that's... Makishima-san did!?

Ahhh... really?

Waaaa I'm so thankful.... me!?

Kakaka

Yeah

The other side of that day's race, no, that's-

4: Oh.... oh.....

Kanzaki-san, are you exaggerating to encourage me?

5: Nah

It's just as Miki said

6: Don't be so incredulous, Onoda-kun

Ahhh...!!

Don't be shy

I'm.... I'm shy....

7: That race was so exciting

But they didn't talk about me....

But I was racing, too....

Pag 15

1: Three people are chasing Kinaka!!

2: They're filling the gap!! Now it's 2 or 3 metres!!

3: Will they be able to catch him!? Will they finally... pass him!?

Just a little more

4: Yeah

They're goal is to surpass Kinaka, that's why they joined the club

In terms of distance,they're already close

5: But....

Pag 16

1: Yeah

2: In road racing, you fight with the opponent right before your eyes

Only a bit more!!

3: But also

4: With the topography

7: You also have to fight with the “road”

Pag 17

1: From here on, Minegayama's slope becomes much harder

Pag 18

1: It's the steep slope!!

Pag 19

1: Wha- wait- Kei-chan, what's this

It suddenly became harder

A wall!?

2: This is bad, Kyou-chan

The slope it's steeper

Let's switch to a lower gear!!

3: There's no such thing in basket!!

4: Dammit, we only needed a bit more!! Wait, dammit!!

Kinaka is getting away!!

5: Alright, let's switch to a lower gear!!

Pag 20

2: Minegayama's nickname is Kabezaka*.... in this kind of road, where the slope changes, the difference in experience comes out

Before the the steep slope, Kinaka kept climbing by turning his legs and using inertia, and after that he stepped hard onthe pedals

(*NdT.: a word play with the words “kabe”=wall, and saka= slope)

3: The gap is widening!!

Ngh

It was incredible how they caught up, but those three might drop out here....!!

8: No.....!!

9: Yeah

Pag 21

1: Between those two, who are having an hard time

2: One person is coming out!!

4: To climb up the slope!!

Pag 22

2: It's Rokudai-kun!!

Teeeeeh!!

[snicker-snacc]

I’m starting a new thread due to the length of the last one, but thank you for tagging me @fromtheoatfield!! Seeing this when I woke up was like injecting pure serotonin in my brain <3 

anyway here’s the rest of the thread i got tagged in, jic anyone is nosy

https://at.tumblr.com/fromtheoatfield/oh-and-this-hi-thank-you-for-tagging-me-i/6a059b0k5w9n

1. Three ships: oh god oh no I’m about to out my last like 3 hyperfixations in one go because I have a habit of discarding the fandom but keeping my favorite ships in my heart. ANYWAY we have:

Royai (Roy x Riza) from Fullmetal Alchemist

Klance (Keith x Lance) from Voltron: Legendary Defender 

Davekat (Dave x Karkat) from Homestuck (please don’t crucify me on the spot, they’re just too cute I can’t help it)

2. First ship ever: heuuuuughhdsfksd it was probably from warriors, so probably Sandstorm and Firestar because I’ve just had a soft spot for enemies to lovers for my entire life ig

3. Currently listening to: I’m just gonna throw out the songs that have the heaviest rotation for me rn: 

Raise the Dead by Insane3lik3 & Colordrive 

Kill the Noise by Me Not You

Shockwave by Marshmello

Separate Ways (cover) by Daughtry & Lzzy Hale 

Love From the Other Side (Fall Out Boy) 

(hey fromtheoatfield, wanna make a note real quick that IDKHBTFM is a dope band and I appreciate that you also like them)

4. Last move watched: Guys I don’t watch movies. Not because I hate them but because I never get around to it. I think the last one I saw was Wakanda Forever in theaters with some friends. 

5. Currently reading: HAHAHAH my list of paused books is a mile long lmaoooo but I have to read “Emily Wilde’s Encyclopedia of Faeries” as a bookclub book with my coworkers and I’m reading “How to Murder Your Employer” in the breakroom, which comes out in February I believe! 

6. Currently watching: I am SLOWLY, at the speed of molasses, getting through Made In Abyss Season 2, Jojo Part 4 and the og Trigun, all of which are fantastic and I wish I had more time to watch

7. Currently consuming: My morning coffee <3 the lifeblood of my life and my reason for existing 

8. Currently Craving: I just got ramen last night so I’m only craving the usual --  pasta, breakfast potatoes, and mac n cheese. 

Thank you again for the tag!! <3 I’m tagging @howwnowbrowncoww @the-new-universe-change @lessrthanthree @thegoatsba (if you’re still online lmao) @raekuu and anyone else who wants to who’s tag I might be forgetting. Go nuts! 

[watmels]

Shiratorizawa’s Spy (Reflection)

I made the first panels of my comic Shiratorizawa’s Spy in January 2022 on a whim, based on doodle requests from my Instagram Story. I didn’t think it would turn into a big project that would take over a year, but I’m glad it did! To finally wrap this all up, I wanted to organize my thoughts about my experience making the series.

🌞 Highlights ━━━━

Shiratorizawa’s Spy-noff + Shiratorizawa’s Spy-noff 2

It was incredible to see art and writing that others created based on the series. I was especially wowed at how several writers were able to capture what I wanted to convey. To see it written out... it’s unreal!

Comic style

I’m really thankful that I drew/colored the initial panels roughly, because this style let me work quickly. If it was full color / rendered... I probably would have burnt out.

Crowd-sourcing ideas

Many plot points and even the character Goshiki Toshiki came from my followers 🙌🏻

Reading comments

This was sooo motivating. Knowing that I made people laugh, or that people felt conflicted because of Oikawa... It made me happy that my work could touch people like that! 🥺

🌚 Lowlights ━━━━

Lack of Seijoh bonding

I totally understand how readers would feel that Oikawa should have stayed at Shiratorizawa in the end, because most of the comic illustrated his relationships there... I should have drawn more interactions between Oikawa and the Seijoh team to build a stronger sense of belonging. I really wish I had introduced Matsukawa and Hanamaki in the beginning. And I probably could have expanded on the Seijoh captain, but I was reluctant to make decisions about that guy...

Losing track of the timeline

I had a bit of a meltdown when I realized InterHigh was quickly approaching in the storyline.

Discovering again that Oikawa has an Android phone in canon

I forgot about this and gave him an iPhone. When I found out again, I was unwilling to change it midway... I don’t stress about this that much though haha

📝 Lessons about making comics ━━━━

Plan ahead

It’s fun to make spontaneous filler episodes, but it’s important to remember the timeline! After my meltdown, I carefully planned the rest of the story. I’m glad I had an outline of each part towards the end.

Comic boxes

I initially drew a new box for each panel. Later, I changed to duplicating & rotating the same box for most panels. This saved a lot of time.

Procreate stuff

My process for making the comic was to duplicate a previous file, keep a few things (series title, some boxes, my signature) and create the new part.

I wish I knew earlier to TURN OFF THE PROCESS RECORDING! As time went on, my files loaded so slowly... eventually I realized it’s because every file was bigger than the last, with ever-increasing video info 💀 thankfully you can purge the time-lapse recordings.

Text

I came to this conclusion before SS, but still wanted to mention it. I much prefer typing text over handwriting it when creating a comic. It saves time, it’s easier to edit, and it’s more legible for readers!

And... that’s it! Shiratorizawa’s Spy is my magnum opus...

✈️ Now some personal updates ━━━━

This year I’ve been making some life changes and want to make even bigger ones. So it works out well that I was able to end Shiratorizawa’s Spy at this time. Next week, I’ll be moving into a friend’s apartment for a few months.

After that, I really hope to move internationally to South Korea for... an unknown amount of time. I am thinking about quitting my job. I’m grateful for my opportunities and experiences thus far, but I feel lost as an adult... I don’t know what I want to do except that I want to try living in another country. I had an amazing vacation in Korea last year, so I think I’ll start there. I’m really anxious because I don’t speak the language though.

I have so much to learn about personal finance, fitness, beauty, growing as a person, etc. I still want to draw and post occasionally, because art is my first love and passion 💖  but not sure about the frequency.

👋🏻 Anyway ━━━━

Was reading Shiratorizawa’s Spy fun? Like, about as fun as buying a coffee from a shop or seeing a movie in a theatre? If so, I would really appreciate a tip on Ko-Fi. How else could a comic artist make money — maybe mostly drawing through Patreon...? 🤔

Thank you for following me through all this. I hope it was interesting!