#I want this guy to be stable and sturdy

[nabsthevulture]

Buying dog training books because I want to be as prepared as possible in case I can't find reliable dog training near me

[lilislegacy]

Jason’s got that “what a nice young man!” Smile.

percys got that “wasn’t that the kid on buzzfeed unsolved?” smile.

YES!! 100%. jason has that perfect sweet boy symmetrical smile, and percy has a cocky crooked bad boy grin. this is one of my favorite things to talk about. percy and jason are so similar yet so different. they are both sweet amazing guys, but percy is an untamed sarcastic troublemaker and jason is a calm disciplined rule-follower (mostly)

jason is the type of guy a girl sees that makes her smile a little and think “he looks like he’d make a sturdy and reliable husband… i want that ”

percy is the type of guy a girl sees that makes her gut twist and think “oooh he’d mess me and my life up real fast… i want him”

which is ironic, because percy is a very stable and loving partner and is so husband, whereas jason… well, jason had the potential to be like that, but his situation made it so that he couldn’t live up to his full boyfriend potential

they are SO much like each other while also being complete contrasts. i love it, and i love them both so much.

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

w.count: 1.7k - i am such a pile of mush for this guy

kaeya has always been the type to never admit what he wants. not to the people around him: his friends or family at the winery, not to the wind when he's by himself leaning on the sturdy stone bridge leading into the city, and especially not to himself. or maybe, it's not that he doesn't want to admit he wants something, but more so he firmly believes he deserves less than 'wanting'.

too many things had piled up since he was younger that his conscience had dulled and yearning for things was an action he couldn't bring himself to do. but there are things kaeya alberich wants- yearns for so deeply it makes him anxious.

a stable relationship with his brother. a break from the ever-pressuring uncertainty of his role in this life. a clean break from his homeland he hardly remembers and hardly cares about. hell, sometimes he even wanted to throw his whole surname away. kaeya alberich wants-

"kaeya!"

-you.

kaeya had finished up his tasks for the day and his head was so clouded that some fresh air would do him some good. he found himself leaning over the stone wall of the bridge connecting mondstadt to the wilds of the nation. one of his arms lay across the stone barrier with his hand dangling off the edge. his other propped up to hold his chin as he lazily zones out, shutting his mind off while the wind brushed his hair across his face, and neck, and chest.

then, your voice calling his name zoned him back in, brought him back into the here and now as you jogged up the slope of the bridge. he had to fully twist his body since the obstacle of his eyepatch kept him from giving you his fully brought back attention. his arm still rested on the stone of the bridge, and his back was fully straightened by the time you came to a stop in front of him with your hands on your hips. your lips were pursed, cheeks puffed like a fish. he had to contain his snickering- which he failed at by his twitching mouth you noticed.

"what's with the face, sweetcheeks?" opening your mouth in offense, you swat at his arm. he flinches away, not in fear or in pain but in jesting fun before laughing at your huffing. he could see puffs of smoke with each exhale of your nostrils in his imagination. finally letting go of the bridge, his arms come to rest on his own hips, mirroring you.

"kaeya!" the way you could say his name in all sorts of tones- it all rivals his favorite songs. this one... this one was definitely agitated.

"alright, alright." he relaxes his body and crosses his arms over his chest instead of mimicking you. "what's the urgency about?" kaeya watches you speak with body your body and mouth. he's not entirely focused on what you're saying- something you'll probably scold him for- but more so focused on your whole presence.

"kaeya," you hiss and he blinks before leaning his hip against the side of the sturdy stone. this tone was a warning- a light one. his eyebrows lift before he shuts his eye and nods like he is agreeing with whatever you had just said. "you didn't hear me, did you?" you accuse.

"mm," he tilts his head mockingly before he chuckles with a shake of his head. "not entirely."

"you're unbelievable."

"oh? complimenting me are you?"

with a huff, you take a half step closer to him and miss the quick intake of breath he does at the loss of proximity. reaching up, you shift through the thick, blue hair on the left side of his head and find his ear before pulling on it. jumping away from the wall he was leaning on, his knees instinctively bent- his hands coming up to hover over your grasp- to follow the downward direction his head was taking as you pull.

"owow-!"

"timmie came running into the city gate huffing and puffing that you coming out here and just standing in the middle of the bridge scared off his birds." you nag before releasing his ear. his hand comes up to rub the side of his head, palm cupping the small limb and his hair tangling between his knuckles in the process.

"i don't see how that's my fault," he whines. "those birds would fly away at the faintest gust of wind."

"i know that," you sigh before pinching the bridge of your nose. with your face hidden under your hand, kaeya couldn't see you well. you were still well within his bubble, but he didn't mind. leaning down, he tried to look under your hand to find your eyes again. when he's about what he guesses is eye level, your hand falls away from your face and you're smirking. "i just told timmie i'd scold you for it."

kaeya's stuck in bewilderment for a moment before he starts snickering, snickering that soon evolves into laughing that has him wrapping his arms across his gut. you stand in front of him proud at both your performance and the jolly laugh you pulled from the captain.

calming down, he witnesses you huffing in pride. your hands are on your hips again and although it's the same pose as your irritated expression from before, this version is so very different. you were like a coin of mora that had been flipped from heads to tails.

"oh!" your hands come up in front of you as one of your fists land softly into the palm of your other. "i did come to find you for something though."

"oh?" he mirrors. "curious minds want to know."

digging around in the small pouch you kept slung over your belt- a gift he got you a long time ago- you come to stand beside him. squeezing yourself between his right side and the bridge, your shoulder pushes just lightly into his arm and his body experiences a wave of warmth at the sensation. from your pouch, you provide his one good eye with two small cut-out cards.

"which one do you think klee would like more?" kaeya blinks his eye before looking at you.

"for klee?" his voice cracks lightly in confused and curiousity. "is there a reason... or?"

"no," you shake your head, "not really. getting her a little something from time to time isn't a crime though. kids need enrichment- plus it'll distract her from getting too bored for a while at least." you bring his attention back to the cards. one depicts a pryo and cryo slime stacked on top of one another. the other is a classic dodoco card. they had clearly been hand drawn and kaeaya wonders if you asked lisa for pointers. "now, help me choose."

kaeya crosses his arms again and leans in to get a better look.

"wouldn't it be a no brainer with dodoco in the running?"

"see, i thought that too. but like... isn't that too predictable?"

"sweetcheeks, she's 8."

"okay? and?"

kaeya sighs before taking the slime card from you and moving it up and away from your grasp.

"ah-! hey!"

"just go with that one. trust me, the fact you're thinking of her 'bestest friend' will absolutely thrill her." with an unoriginal sigh, you yield to his words. you gently place the winning card into your pouch again, careful not to wrinkle it. you offer your closest hand palm up towards him and kaeya just stares at it. when you don't feel anything put in your palm, you look at him expectantly.

"the other one, please."

"hmm," his arm moves to bring the card down behind his back. " no, i don't think so. i'll personally take this one as my payment."

"wha-?" your brow wrinkles at him as he pockets the slime card before you can start some sort of counter to get it back.

"my services can't always be free you know," he teases. "the unpicked option has to go to someone after all."

you let out a defeated sigh with a wave of your hand to signal he can have his way this time. flowers could've bloomed around his head at the glee of winning so easily and taking something you had made in the process.

your arm falls back to your side and suddenly your spine freezes your whole body when a weight pushes against your shoulder. twisting your neck, you feel kaeya's hair against your cheek before you see it. straightening up a little against his weight, his head wobbles where his forehead rests on your shoulder.

"kaeya?" that tone was sweet. sweet yet softly wondering what he was doing. hearing it so close to his ear sent a shiver down into his very core. his hand searches for your dangling one and he locks his pinkie with yours.

kaeya can't bring himself to hold your whole hand, but he can make himself lock your promise fingers together in this moment where it was just you and him. he lets a deep breath out of his body that feels like it came from the bottom of his feet all the way up his limbs. it was heavy.

kaeya's eye shuts softly when he feels your pinke link tighter against his a silent permission that what he's doing is okay- even if you don't understand fully. chances are you just think he's exhausted- and in a way, you're correct.

you were too sweet for your own good. god, you were so bad for his fractured conscience and heart.

kaeya has always been the type to never admit what he wants. but just this once, just with you, he can admit wholly to himself that kaeya alberich wants you so badly.

"mx. y/n!" little timmie on the bridge calls for you the next morning. "did you scold captain kaeya like you promised?" his little fists were balled in front of him like he was asking for some sort of secret information. you kneel and look playfully side to side as if looking for overlistening gossipers before waving him closer.

"just between you and me, captain kaeya was properly scolded by yours truly."

"good! he needs to be more careful!" you chuckle and while timmie runs off to feed his pigeons, you stand and feel kaeya's stare on your back before you see him, feel him grabbing onto your pinkie again and bringing your hand up into the air between you both.

"promise to take it easier on me next time, oh-harsh-scolder."

[cerastes]

Bro any time I think about Valkyria Chronicles I laugh my nipples off, the game is fundamentally flawed gameplaywise but, simultaneously, it's stupidly fun, which is the recipe for any club banger, it has a story that weaves flawlessly between "that's pretty poignant" and "this is some goofy goober shit", it's got the horrors of war but also this fucking pig piece of shit mascot, Hans,

It's an amalgam of white and black without any gray: It exists on extremes, and it never intersects, it's playing two parallel lines and coming to terms with the fact that you'll never see cohesion but that somehow enhances the end product in ways evidently no one intended. You have narrative comparisons with the persecution of jews and, at the same time, the game ends with the bad guy getting German Suplexed.

But I think the funniest aspect of Valkyria Chronicles The First is that the main character is the farthest thing from a war hero they could possibly muster with the expertise of a stoic Japanese swordsmith from the mountains crafting a god-cleaving blade: Welkin.

This Scout From TF2 Put Through An Anime Filter looking mother fucker was chilling in his hometown talking about how much he wanted to be a teacher and showing people his really good sketches of animals because he's also a gifted artist, when suddenly, the Dudes attack, and his reaction to the Dudes attacking is "hang on, I recall my dad hiding his actual service tank in the shed in the back" so he goes and, yeah, his dad's tank from a previous war is just there, chilling, so he takes it for a joy ride while the town baker, Alicia, armed with a rifle and infinite action economy due to the afore mentioned flawed gameplay, sweeps the entire god damn platoon of heavily armed machine gun troops.

The entire game is Welkin using his love for nature and his baker love interest to inflict insane personnel and materiel damage to an entire empire: Welkin and Alicia will come across a heavily fortified bridge, and the dialogue will go something like

"Welkin! They will pulverize us with the heaviest machine guns known to man if we step one foot in that bridge! They practically developed wooden low-orbit bombardment stations! What's the plan!"

"Well... Look at that duck over there. It's flying from the east to the west, right? Well, YOU SEE, that duck is known as a Balkunese Socioduck, and those, during this season, migrate from west to east, and they only exhibit this irregular flight path if a Matrisgel Weasel family is molting by the juniper berry bushes, their favorite food. Matrisgel Weasels only ever molt if they are put under the exact amount of stress caused to them by the sound of distant tank threads on the road, and they are known to hide in sturdy, stable soil."

"Welkin, SIR, what the fuck does this all mean?"

"If we follow the smoldering shrieking of the molting weasels, we'll find a SECRET PATH that will, as always, let us ambush, flank, and surprise our foes! Alicia, you know what to do."

"Ogggeyyyyy"

and then, invariably, no matter the level, thanks to Welkin's impressive knowledge of fauna and flora, and Alicia's literally infinite action economy in a game that wasn't properly beta tested in-house during development, they combine their powers like a piss poor Captain Planet and kill the absolute shit out of an entire Empire's worth of dudes, and it's legitimately one of the most fun and charming games you'll ever touch if you remember to not take it too seriously. I fucking hate Hans but I love this game.

[saturnville]

I just got an idea for another part of the letter series: John writes to Amelia that he worries she’s not going to like this version of himself. He’s just filled with a lot of doubt and he understands if she wants to end things where it’s at. Amelia assures John that she’s with him now & forever.

a letter to you, major john egan

pairing: major john egan x amelia mae egan warning: implicit discussions about mental health content: in which john writes to amelia about his doubts. tag list: @neeville @turn-thy-paige @ihe4rtisa @ineedafictionalman @lovebyceleste @alliewassobonum an: I want all to know that in my mind, amelia and john stay together until they die and she changed her middle name to rose.

John Egan’s mind was under attack. Bullets of doubt and missiles of hopelessness infiltrated the barriers that were once sturdy and stable. Everything came crashing down like the walls of Jericho. 

Days felt longer as their time in Germany grew elongated. The nights dragged by and never seemed to end. The only thing that lulled him to sleep were the words of Amelia Mae on the now-wrinkled sheet of paper he kept in the pocket of his coat. It was the blood for his body; the only thing that kept him alive. 

He had no issue falling asleep most nights. All other nights, however, his heavy eyes stayed open and refused to close. So, he did what was unusual for him to do--write. He’d sulk off into a corner with one of the oil lamps, pull out a sheet of dingy paper, and write until his hand cramped and his tears signed his signature for him. 

My darlin’ Amelia Rose, 

I hear we’re gettin’ out of here soon. I surely hope that’s the cause; I don’t know how much longer I can deal with this. The Germans are intense; always on guard and ready to strike at any moment. One wrong move, or even just a wrong breath, lands a man dead. I’ve seen more bodies collapse just tryin’ to survive in the camp than I did in the air. 

Stuff like this changes a man, Rose. The guys are convinced I lost it ‘cause repeating old ball games is the only thing the keeps my mind off the horrors of being a damn prisoner. I haven’t eaten a real meal since the day I left you. I haven’t felt the warmth of my own bed and it makes me as cold as I feel at night. 

Rose, I don’t know what it’s gonna be like when I come home.

I’ve heard stories of when men make it home to their ladies; not all of them are good. He ends up chasing her away. I don’t want to chase you away, but I don’t want to hurt you either. This version of me is not the one you knew and I don’t know if you’ll love him like you did the other version of me.

I can’t think straight. I can’t sleep through the night. I’m just…here. 

And if you don’t want to be with me because of that, I understand. It would hurt, but I would get it. You’re a good woman, Rose and I don’t want to make you feel any sort of pain.

I’ve got to get back to my bunk before someone notices I’m missing, or even worse, the Germans find out I’m awake. 

I think about you always and miss you dearly. Write back soon. 

With all my love, 

Johnny

It took three weeks to receive something back from her. He thought he’d be used to it by now, the waiting game, that is. But at this point, anxiety was his portion and fed him well. The mind games began to get more complex as the voices of uncertainty spurred him on with tricks. What she divorced him? Left him high and dry because he wasn’t the same. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself. 

John huffed as he played with the corners of the most recent (three week old) letter he received. The other man were gathered around the child-like sized tables playing cards, talking, and joking. They were better at making the most of situations than he was. He was good at it for some time, but the repetition grew old, and the song he knew so well became unfamiliar. 

A familiar, “Mail, boys!” came ruggedly from the doorway. The men scattered like flies, sorting and sifting through the letters. John’s eyes lit up as he stood to his feet, gratefully taking the letter from the mailman’s hand. He sauntered off to a corner and slid down the wall. 

Her handwriting was just as pretty as it always had been. Major John Egan, written in the middle with a red pen. It was his favorite color because it reminded him of her cherry red lip stick that stained his skin whenever she wore it. John tore the top of the envelope and pulled the letter out. His heartrate increased. 

Dear John, 

I can’t help but say that it pains me to know that you think I’d leave you. Do you remember the vows we took? For better or for worse and in sickness and in health? If I didn’t believe I could stand by those words, I wouldn’t have said them. And, I knew I married a soldier. This comes with the territory. 

You’ve seen things I would deem unimaginable. You’ve heard things that would drive me mad. You’ve felt a pain that I couldn’t picture. Do you know how foolish I would be to think you’d come back the same way you left? 

When I married you, I married the versions of you that you and I have yet to see. 

I am here for you, John Egan. I’m not going anywhere. 

The light at the end of the tunnel isn’t clear to you right now, and that’s okay. We’ll work on it when you come home. We are a unit; we move together. So, we’ll get through it. Together. 

Get some rest, John. It’s not over for you--your story doesn’t end here. 

With everlasting love,  

Rose

He wasn’t aware of his tears until they smeared the lipstick stain on the lower corner. John brought the letter to his face, inhaling the scent of her perfume. So sweet. She’d wait for him. She wouldn’t, no she refused to leave him. 

How good it felt to be loved by her.

[pandafishao3]

TEASER Breeding/Lactation

YOU GUYS I went right ahead and did it, didn't I. I wrote an AU for my Milk Farm AU where Steve has Bucky as a private little cow hybrid in his own farm instead of a big factory and I am NOT SORRY. The full thing will be posted during Kinktober but for now, please enjoy a little teaser! I am seriously so excited to share this with you all, I cannot WAIT till Kinktober!

Steve yawned as he poured coffee into a cup and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. The mornings started early out on the farm. The sun had just started climbing over the treeline across the golden rye fields, and it made the rustic kitchen warm and cosy. The little cottage had been in his family for generations, but Steve really felt like he’d added his own personal touch to it by re-painting the kitchen a soft green and building a proper dining room table out of sturdy oak wood. The clunky ceramic cups and white, embroidered curtains all spoke of the work of his mother, grandmother and great-grandmother, however. Steve liked the reminder of them, especially now that he was left to manage the farm alone.

“Meow?”

The sound of his cat Alpine jumping on top of the counter and chirping as she trotted towards him made Steve smile. He reached out his hand and she immediately buffed her fluffy, white head against it in a friendly gesture.

“Hi Al. Where you’ve been? Out wreaking havoc in the stables?” he winked at her and she promptly sat down and started licking her paw like she’d never done anything wrong in her whole life. In her mind, she probably ran the whole farm.

Steve huffed out a warm laugh to himself and went back to his coffee. But when he reached into the fridge, he noticed that he was completely out of milk. Oh well. He was heading to the barn anyway – the only reason he was up with the rooster was so he could get the milking done. After pouring Alpine some wet food, Steve took his coffee cup and went outside.

The flannel shirt he was wearing over his worn, patched jeans would be too hot in a few hours, but for now it was just perfect. Steve fondly watched his chicken pick at the corn on the ground as he walked past, and made a mental note to himself to go check on the rhubarb after this. He would need to tinker with the tractor too, since it had been acting up lately and it almost time to bring in the very first harvest of the summer. The barley would be done in a week or so.

But before that, he looked forward to spending the morning with his favourite pet.

“Good morning, my little moo. You up yet?” Steve smiled as he walked into the small barn. In the corner, his two goats and their babies looked up at him lazily and then went back to resting. The kids bleated and then ran out of their hatch to play outside, so Steve was in no hurry to take care of them. They pretty much took care of themselves, and he mostly used them for company and as lawnmowers.

But his little moo was a different story.

“Bucky? Where are you, honey?” he sing-songed as he walked further down the aisle. There, in his stall, his beautiful cow hybrid looked up from the mound of straw and blankets where he slept. His pretty little face instantly lit up in a bright smile and he mooed in that adorable way that only he could. “There you are! Are you still sleeping?” Steve teased him softly and leaned his elbows on the wooden door so he could watch Bucky struggle to get up.

Please let me know if you want any more of these teasers! Love you all <3

“Nooo, m’awake!” Bucky insisted with a cute pout and hurried to untangle himself so he could get to his owner. It wasn’t easy with his little hooves slipping on the floor and his tail getting caught up in the blanket, but he managed to get to his feet and tiptoe all the way to Steve. There, he immediately pushed up against the door and buffed his head against Steve’s chest, cooing happily all the time.

🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷

Credit for the header: Evangelitaa on Pinterest

[sol-consort]

Regarding the human kink thing when it comes to turians, some people actually do be nesting, omega-verse style. Imagine being a human assigned to a turian ship, and you just over here in your bunk, innocently arranging the pillows and stuffies, while these guys are just standing there, slack-jawed and harmonizing their subvocals lol

[updated post]

A/B/O is not for me, but I dig the concept of aliens being intrigued by plushies. They are weird when you think about it.

The weird part isn't the plushies–it makes sense for warm-blooded mammals who value skinship to enjoy cuddling soft things, hugs are fundamental for your health—No, The weird part is how the most popular plushies aren't human shaped.

You could argue dolls, but dolls aren't used as plushies. They're more hard and sturdy, something that can withstand being played with. they have joints and brushable hair. Dolls are puppets to tell a story with, a psychological form of play through creativity.

I want you for a moment to imagine an advanced civilisation of bears with me.

With metropolises and bustling economy, they haven't mastered space travel yet but they've been eyeing the planet closest to them, bringing back rocks from the moon, etc.

In one apartment complex, there lives a bear family. The furniture is more accommodating to their larger build, clothes are more of an accessory to them considering their luxurious fur coats keeping them warm.

It's nighttime, tomorrow's a Sunday and mom bear has to leave to work early, she's currently washing the dishes leftover from the wonderful dinner the family just had. Her wife, however, is putting their son to bed. it's his second week in elementary bear school! he's unhappy with his seating arrangement in class however, the teacher placed him too far from his best friend.

His mother promises to have a chat with the teacher about it when she drops him off tomorrow, the son bear is very delighted and roars happily. A big yawn escapes him as his eyelids get heavy.

In his arms, there lies a cotton friend. His most beloved treasure, the most precious inanimate object to his heart. His plushie!

He adores it. It makes him so happy. It helped make him feel safe when he first started sleeping alone after his moms got him his own bed.

Now, I need you to tell me what does the plushie look like?

For me, these are the options that instinctively came to my mind when attempting to imagine what sentient bear cubs living in a 21st century would gravitate towards in a plushie.

A) a teddybear, more fluffy, abstract, and cartoonish looking

B) a plushie in the shape of a honeyjar

C) a plushie in the shape of a fish–more specifically, salmon or trout

D) fuck idk man leave me alone

When compressed down to their core, in the most simplfied form, the choices are:

A) Identity

B) Food

C) Food

D) How did you get into my house?

-

With that long analogy out of the way, when you compare that limited selection to the actual things humans have already turned into plushies, it just doesn't make sense.

Food, yes we have plushies of food but also of animals we do not eat. rabbits, cats, dogs, dolphins, bugs. We have plushies of predetors even, things that once hunted us down, beings that still could very well kill us if we meet face to face, tigers, sharks, bears themselves even.

Animal cartoons are much more popular amongst kids. Fables about talking animals have been a stable genre ever since humans invented writing. Animal plushies are popular amongst adults too.

Plushies of inanimate objects, of plants, of fictional characters and fantasy creatures.

I'm willing to bet that humans already made plushies of verans since the first year they came into space, that they sold out on earth immediately. Hell, I'm sure there are plushies of reapers, of protheons and even of turians and other species.

Not even abstract ideas were spared from being into marketable plushies! isn't there a series designed to raise awareness for mental illness?

The whole meme of "turns your fav into a marketable plushie" spread so much because it is true. If there is one thing humans love, is making plushies of anything not human.

And that's the weird part to aliens, the big boy of human anomalies. "Why do they want to cuddle literally everything in this universe? and how come plushies of other humans is the last thing on that list"

You try to explain it to a salarian once but they just look at you in confusion. What do you mean you sleeping with plushes resembling your species is "weird"?? Don't you humans like hugging each other so much? Yet cuddling the soft imitation of a reaper each night isn't weird to you????

That's not even mentioning how the bear society analogy is flawed because we are biased by nature. We projected the bear society onto our human agriculture and based it upon our own popculture.

When in reality they would hold very different values, a different emotional range. They'd be as diverse as the other alien species in mass effect, sharing more resemblance to them than to humans.

We see someone sad, and we have this need to touch them, pat their shoulder, rub their back, hold their hands, and give a hug. Bears let their children walk on their own while we carry our young more, much like aquatic birds in more ways than we'd think.

A/B/O nesting isn't my cup of tea, but with turians, it's easier to digest. Yeah, they are birds. It would be literal nesting. That's kinda cute.

We like caves, it's also cute. Would turians prefer the top bunkbed? Anyway.

Birds usually throw clutter away from their nests, anything that's not a straw or building material is disposed off to make space for their eggs.

While we like the opposite, clutter fucking rocks! at least for humans.

We have a mattress, then a mattress cover, then a sheet.

Then we have pillows, stuffing, then pillow covers, decorative pillows.

After it, multiple blankets! a soft one, a heavy one, an airy one. Sometimes, blankets come with blanket covers.

Finally, the plushies arrive. Multiple of course, some for decorations, others well worn with cuddles. Sometimes a gaint big one to fully wrap all of our limbs around.

Sometimes our beds have crumbs from food we eat in it, othertimes it has a stray sock we took off while in bed and forgot.

Most of the time it has our phone in it, a pet joins us there, book we're reading, laundry we were supposed to fold but forgot, a bag, or several outfits as we get ready to go out.

That's a cave, much like bears leave the skeletal remains of their prey, we have crumbs from the cookie we suddenly craved at 3am.

Nests are neat and clutter-free, at least the bird ones, always getting cleaned from waste. Eggshells are thrown out as they hatch, baby birds waste are immediately disposed of.

Lizard nests aren't that different.

Because the equivalent to a nest foundation isn't the blankets, plushies, or pillows. it's the house foundation itself!

The concrete walls and the sturdy floorboards. The whole bedroom is already a well-built nest. The bed is just an extra cushion. The fluffy material and loose feathers birds leave at the very top, so the twigs don't scratch the fragile eggs.

So, in conclusion. Turians and Salarians would get VERY overwhelmed in a human bedroom, let alone a human bed with plushies, stuffies, and blankets.

They're like, "Are you expecting a baby???" When they notice what their brain consider is extra protective fluffing for eggs.

Turians even more because of their lack of skin nerves, hard plating, and all. Their outershell makes it hard to appreciate soft things, let alone hugging them, when they can barely feel it.

Salarains? They're softer, more squishy, and they might enjoy the way it feels against their skin. Most reptiles do, and they're the closest thing for reference.

They're warm-blooded, but they do originate from a fully tropical planet + they're amphibians and might have used to be semi-aquatic? Meaning that while they still produce their own bodyheat, it wouldn't be that much to begin with. Space is definitely much colder to them than to a human.

That's why hugging a human is so nice to them! They can leech off of your body heat as their very own sun–or at least a substitute for a heatlamp.

But plushies and blankets are a different story. With blankets, they might make them cold or freeze since they blocked whatever light or heatlamp the salarians must need for sleep when they're not wearing their temperature adjustment suits.

And if you sleep next to them under the blanket, your trapped body heat will cause the temperature to rise above what's comfortable for them and risk overheating them. Same with the fluffy sheets, pillows or plushies.

there's the risk of overheating them with your body as the blanket traps in the heat. it will happen slowly, but that just makes it more dangerous. A slow simmer of rising body temperature as they realise what a death trap a human bed actually is.

Plus, salarians only need one hour of sleep per cycle, it seems very excessive to them that you'd build a whole room and make the biggest piece of furniture in it solely for the purpose of sleep. All of those plushies just to hug to sleep?

Drell, who breathe through their skin, would view blankets as a total nightmare. Their clothes already need a lot of adjustment to accommodate their conditions, only certain material is airy enough to allow them to get a lungfull, and you want to suffocate them with cotton or polyester?

They know you only breathe through your nose, but it still...makes them feel uneasy. Seeing you covered completely in stuffies and thick blankets, only your head poking out. Much like what it would feel for us to see someone go to sleep underwater with a flimsy mask connected to an oxygen tank. Now, this is truly a death trap–the salarians were right.

As long as you forgo the blanket and...allow them to fully strip down, they will give this whole human bed thing a try. Silk or satin sheets and pillow covers feel the best against their skin, smooth surfaces that seamlessly glide, air particles passing through it with little trouble.

Anything fluffy, feathery, or with fur will irritate their skin. It's like something brushing against your nose. They sacrifice a lot of comfort when it comes to indulging the human need to cuddle, but most drell rarely complain as they accommodate to your need, even if it meant you'd be slightly cutting off their air circulation.

Maybe their society is exceptionally polite? Maybe devotion and sacrifice for the ones you love are just ingrained in their biology? It would explain their endless royalty to the hanar despite how staying on that planet is literally killing them.

Oh yeah, owning a humidifier in your room will cause them a lot of pain and discomfort. Turn it off, or if you really want to woo a drell, get a dehumidifier.

Krogans would fucking love our beds tho. Might make fun of it at first, but they secretly also want a soft mattress and plushies to cuddle with.

Get close enough with a Krogan, and they'll start crashing in your room and taking naps on your own bed whenever the chance presents itself.

Don't the asari sleep in pods? I'm thinking of that sex scene in ME, she fucks you in a pod. That's something. At least...Liara gets used to human beds?

-

Anway! having established all of that definitely vital and necessary world building, I can finally talk smut about the turians! the original context of this request!

One look at a human's bed and their minds are definitely going south. First of all, human, you're in desperate need of a mate because your nest is a mess! Why do you have so many different fabrics? Aren't you worried you'll suffocate yourself with a plushie or too while sleeping?

Second of all...they didn't know humans were this soft. You mean, most humans sleep like this? In very comfortable beds? Even like...the army tough ones? Oh, that's why they get so excited for shore leave? so they can return to their actual comfortable nests–sorry yes "beds" and have some decent sleep?

huh.

And none of you are expecting children, correct? This is just how the average adult human goes to sleep?

Turians don't have the heart to tell you that they associate soft beds–ones like yours—to the human equivalent of a heart-shaped bed with rose petals scattered around, candles illuminating the room and a very deliberate lack of condoms.

They try not to...think about it whenever they come into the room. A bluish hue adorning their cheeks, trying to avoid eye-contact as they explain that uh...fuck, they accidentally glanced towards your bed and forgot what they came here to say.

I talked before how jarring it's to them that humans easily allow others on their bed, be it human or not. You just casually invite your friends to sit on it? The same sheets you sleep on each night? the one so heavy with your delicious scent they can practically smell it the second they stepped foot into this room?

And now you're telling them to take a seat, even handing them one of your plushies to keep in their lap. What's a friendly gesture and a show of trust is being very very badly misinterpreted by their brain chemistry, their biology going haywire at what they consider the declaration of "Get me pregnant" Whether you're actually capable of it or not.

-

Sidenote, the angara might be the only ones to share our bed preferences, not only that but show enthusiasm at the mention of plushies.

The only difference is that their society values plushies that resemble people more, angara like them. The dolls and plushie lineup are very intertwined.

Cuddling very intimately with someone isn't sexualised either, nor presented under a romantic light necessarily. Their society prides itself on love and affection; they're direct with expressing their emotions.

A single angara family can have many mothers and fathers, tens of sisters and brothers. Cuddling and sharing a bed is very normalised even far into adulthood.

They might be the ones giving humans the wrong idea by immediately inviting them back to cuddle on their bed after only the second meeting. Just because they decided they like you :) It's the equivalent of going out for coffee.

Protheoans, meanwhile, fall on the opposite spectrum. Javik doesn't have a bed, does he? He never asks for one either. They're a society of warriors, they value strength and abhor tenderness. Brutal honesty is their forte.

But...they also read each other's emotions through touch.

While beds are a foreign concept, plushies are not. Javik can sense the history of a room just by directly touching its floorboards. Plushies and other sentimental objects must be valued very greatly in their society, doesn't he hold onto the disk of memories from his time back before being frozen?

He understands why his own species came to value plushies, but why the hell does yours do it? You lack his abilities, all humans do.

You try to explain it to him, but it just sounds like you're describing vague and badly done emotion reading with extra steps.

He concludes that humans must hold traces of these abilities. It just translates into safety and the need to cuddle others. Also, it is clearly inferior to the protheon's advanced ability, so yeah.

Javik dislikes your bed but likes your plushies and actually welcomes cuddling. He remains stoic throughout it but you can feel him poking through your memories.

Same with your plushies, he asks that he may keep one as a relic. A piece of your soul, your history is encased in it like an artifact in amber.

Touching it almost feels exactly like travelling in time to meet your old self, getting to part the curtians of space itself and get a front row view on the person you used to be.

Plushies immortalise you to protheans, who would've thought.

-

I had so much fun with this an analysis it <333 I know it isn't exactly what you had in mind anon, I'm sorry, A/B/O is listed as a "no" in my requesting list. But the concept was so good I had to approach it in a different direction.

I hope you still enjoyed it!

[swordfright]

shape language + dsmp cast !

Over the past year or so I’ve been slowly (very slowly lmfao) teaching myself to draw, and part of that process has been learning how shapes dictate meaning and emotion, so just for funsies I decided to do a full analysis of the shapes I usually use when drawing the cast of DSMP. Full analysis under the cut~

From left to right, top to bottom:

c!Dream — Typically, triangles communicate action, dynamism, or danger, all of which are pretty fitting for this guy, so the overall impression of his shape is usually triangular. His design also tends to use a lot of rectangles, which (because they contain elongated vertical lines) communicate a solidity that is less stable than, say, a square.

c!George — My design for him is very circular. Circles are made up of curves, so they tend to communicate softness and safety, as well as inaction or passivity. Since he can sometimes be quite a passive character in comparison to others, I usually go with a circle-based design for him.

c!Sapnap — I see Sapnap as a very complex character with a lot of different sides, at times extremely impulsive and at other times quite stable. Because of this, the shape I like to use for him is the rhombus, a type of parallelogram. Think of it like a square that’s leaning to one side: it still communicates the solidity and dependability of a square, but the diagonal lines that make up the shape mitigate that impression by suggesting motion/tension.

c!Punz — The base shape for Punz is usually either a short rectangle or a square, communicating reliability, while the face shape tapers into a point to suggest dynamism. He’s tricksy but dependable.

c!Techno — This guy’s always made up of circles and squares! Sturdy, reliable, approachable, strong, friendly. An all-around (haha get it) great guy.

c!Philza — I see Phil as one of those characters who, despite being very affable, has got a lot going on under the surface, so I didn’t want to stick to simple shapes for him. The shape I usually go with is an oval, because it carries the safety and amiability that roundness lends, as well as the slight instability implied by the long vertical lines in an oval.

c!Sam — This guy’s mostly squares! Strong, dependable, solid, secure…but also deeply inflexible.

c!Quackity — Nearly every shape in this design is some kind of triangle because that’s how I see Q: unpredictable, sharp, active. Triangles effortlessly convey the volatility associated with his character arc.

c!Wilbur — Okay, this is a tough one. Wilbur is a super manic character. This bad boy can fit so many shapes in him! His design usually features a pointed nose (triangular), a square jaw (strength/conviction), and either a rectangular or oval-shaped head. Wilbur can do (and be) a lot of things at once, so I really wanted his shapes to get that point across.

c!Tommy — Since he and Tubbo are both some of the younger server members, I like to include circles in their designs since roundness conveys youth. Tommy’s face shape usually tapers into a more pointed chin because he’s so active and volatile, he needs some pointy bits to show it!

c!Ranboo — The predominant shape here is a LONG rectangle. When it comes to rectangles, the wider the base, the more stable the shape ends up looking. But if the rectangle is much taller than its width, it conveys instability or even anxiety. I want Ranboo to look like he could topple over at any moment.

c!Tubbo — Just like Tommy, Tubbo’s primary shape is circular to communicate youth. But since Tubbo is a somewhat less active character than Tommy (a statement that’s true of most characters TBH) his circles are wider, sort of more squashed, to represent a state of semi-stability.

I could go on about this for way longer but I’m gonna cap this post here. There are a ton of characters I haven’t covered obviously, so LMK if there’s anyone else in particular whose shapes you’d like to see me break down.

[tattedpetticoats]

I bought my dream boots today and I'm so unbelievably excited. I've been saving for like... four years... in the hopes that something like this would pop up and now they have.

See, I love demonias but the quality is shit, and I've never been able to justify spending like $200+ on some chunks of plastic that will wear out within a year. I'm willing to spend Real Money on footwear I like, but I want to know I'll be wearing it for at LEAST five years, with gentle wear and proper upkeep.

So here I am, in the market for some good goth clompers, something elegant, something bold, something fun, and above all something good quality that'll see me through years of wear...

And today I bought myself a pair of Fluevog Grand National boots and I'm ecstatic.

They have cloven hoofs! They have very adjustable lacing for those who are Chunky of Calf! They're all leather and the soles are re-soleable by any Shoe Guy (who is willing to be a bit adventurous)! They're sturdy and stable enough to see me through a night of dancing and prancing!

They Were Not Cheap (pretty close to the most expensive thing I've ever bought, actually) but I've been saving for a while and a Major Exciting Life Milestone happened today so I thought I'd celebrate a bit.

Anyway one day they'll be part of a draculaura cosplay.

[kunipuppy]

Leander x gn!reader

warnings: yandere behaviour, magical manipulation, manipulation, reader is tied to their bed it doesn’t go far though.

ermmm my first language isn’t english so im sorry if some of my sentences came off nonsensical :3

Ever since you came to Eridia you expect the unexpected. After everything and more than enough almost death’s you just don’t get surprised anymore. Though, you just had to jinx yourself…

Last night, after having enough of Vere’s teasing and being embarrassed beyond belief, you retreated to your room. Well, at least only Leander witnessed it, since Vere made a rare solo appearance at the Wet Wick just to mess with you. You thought you were in the clear, Leander is an understanding guy, he won’t tease you for it.

Your eyes flutter as you sense someone else beside you, and jolt awake. Gasping when something pulls on your wrists. You blink your sleepiness away, finally making out Leanders face. He’s giving you his usual, charming smile… it feels off. Everything feels off. You’re not panicking as hard because thank god you just passed out and forgot to unwrap your bandages, the harsh reminder of your curse feels even more suffocating than usual. 

When you finally tear your eyes away from awfully and unusually quiet Leander you notice the thing tugging at your wrist. Green glowing rope. Except it's not a rope, it’s Leander’s magic.

He basically cuffed you to your bed. Okay. Hm. Wait. What.

“Leander, what is going on?” 

You did your best to keep your voice stable, is he playing a prank on you or something? He’s got a shit sense of humor if that’s the reason he tied you to your bed.

His smile didn’t falter, “I noticed something about you last night.”

The voice that once soothed all of your worries away now made your blood run cold. This isn’t the Leander you knew, he must be an amazing actor. Right, that’s it.

“Leander, I don’t know if this is a joke or not but I really don’t like-”

“You’ve become so close with everyone else and drifted away from me, it hurts, you know. Feels like everything I’ve done for you was nothing to you.”

He cut you off with a glare that if looks could kill you would be dead where you sat. You shifted uncomfortably, have you been that distant? You went to Wet Wick every night, always made sure to talk to Leander if he was available. This feels…wrong.

“I’m sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?”

You swallowed thickly. Sure, you could fight him, but you know you would never come out alive if you were to fight to the death. He would wipe the floor with you, you knew that. So you went for… other means of survival. Plus if this was just you being neglectful you could make up for it.

He looked you up and down, his eyes making your skin burn.

“Lay down for me.”

“Leander wh-”

He sighed.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

You exhaled shakily and just did as you were told. That seemed to please him because a small smile appeared on his face, good, you’re gonna be fine. He won’t hurt you. He won’t.

He pressed his fingers on your forehead, before you could ask him what he did, you noticed it too late. Your voice isn't coming out. Fuck. What the fuck.

Noticing your distress, he planted a kiss on your cheek as he straddled your hips.

“They are way too close to you. I won’t do anything you don’t want-

He started to unwrap your bandages, you couldn’t move. He’s way too sturdy. Shit.

-so don’t be afraid and let me make sure they all know-

He took both of your hands and pressed his lips on them, suddenly your brain stopped panicking. It was okay, you wanted this anyway. Right? Your heart thrumming loudly and your insides feel like they’re on fire-

-that I’m the only one that can touch you like this. I’m the only one you can touch, I’m your only hope.”

He bent down and planted a kiss on your forehead.

[otomehoneyybearr]

Act 12

Episode 4: Strange Father and Child Part II

Working w/ Maybelle Lace

Note: As you read, you will see that some sentences highlighted in a different color, this is what they indicate.

Pink: Flashback

Blue: Characters are acting

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Aoshi: Excuse me.

Aoshi: Mr. Azumi, could you review my special leave application form?

Azumi: … Looks good. It must be tough being a member of a renowned theater company like the Hyakka Troupe.

Azumi: I’ll come watch a show someday, so keep up the good work with your rehearsals.

Aoshi: (It was accepted so easily… I guess that’s to be expected from the town of theater.)

Aoshi: Then I’ll be heading out now.

Homeroom Teacher: Ah, Shikagawa. It seems your older brother is waiting in front of the school gates.

Aoshi: Huh? My brother—

Homeroom Teacher: Come Look.

Aoshi: (No way...)

….

Kabuto: …

….

Aoshi: Wha— why is that guy…

Homeroom Teacher: He has an unusually captivating aura, so the students are causing a commotion.

Azumi: Come to think of it, Usui’s brother, also came to the school gates and created quite a ruckus too.

Homeroom Teacher: Oh yeah, I remember that ~

.....

Aoshi: Hey, what are you doing?! And seriously, please spare me from the whole “older brother” thing.

Kabuto: What a nice attitude you have there. I’ve got a cab waiting, so get in already.

Aoshi: Huh?

Kabuto: …

Aoshi: So, what do you want?

Kabuto: …

Aoshi: (You force me to come along with you, yet you don’t want to answer.)

Aoshi: Also, I’m not exactly free either, so where are we going?

Kabuto: To a regular quarterly event.

Aoshi: Is it like a shareholder meeting or something?

Kabuto: It’s a much more depressing event than that, but compared to when it happened every month, its not so bad now.

Aoshi: I’m not sure what that means, but please don’t just drag me along to this kind of stuff.

Kabuto: It’ll be fine. Today will be good opportunity for me.

Aoshi: … Haa.

Aoshi: (I have a bad feeling about this, but it’s pointless to say anything. And it’s not like this is the first time this star actor had taken me to who knows where.)

Amadate: …

Kabuto: …

Aoshi: (… Why is this happening?)

Amadate: … I see we have an unexpected guest today.

Aoshi: Sorry for the intrusion… what’s today’s meeting for?

Amadate: Once every three months, Kabuto and I have meetings like this to deepen our parent-child relationship and discuss the future of the Hyakka Troupe.

Aoshi: In that case, I don’t wish to intrude on such an important meeting, so I’ll take my lea—

Kabuto: Sit down and shut up, third-rate actor.

Aoshi: …

…..

Kabuto: Its hard to attract more people when all we do is classics. We should expand our repertoire.

Amadate: I don’t think the current system we have in place is sturdy enough to spread out so much.

Kabuto: I want to reform the system to in order to create a stable structure.

Amadate: How so?

Aoshi: (Amadate seems calm, but he’s exuding intense pressure. Its impressive how Kabuto can hold his own against him head-on.)

Kabuto: I want to reduce the employment of the production staff that aren’t worth the cost and establish a core team with people that I trust.

Amadate: …Its true that you, alone, are the core of this theater troupe, as the director and star actor.

Amadate: However, I am still the founder of this troupe and I preside over all personnel decisions.

Kabuto: I’m well aware of that. This is just me begging a request from my dear Papa.

Amadate: … If it’s a request my beloved son, then I suppose I can hear you out.

Amadate: First, make a list of the personnel you want and we’ll make a decision once we go over it.

Kabuto: …Tch... fine.

Aoshi: (This seems more like a probing of each other’s intentions rather than a bonding between parent and child…)

Amadate: Well, I have an early day tomorrow so I’ll excuse myself first.

Amadate: Dessert will be served soon, so you two can eat and then head home.

Aoshi: Ah, alright.

Amadate: However, this is the first time my son has brought someone along. He seems to like you a lot.

Kabuto: He’s just a third-rate actor. Just perfect for a supporting role.

Amadate: Aoshi, please support my son as a semi top actor.

Amadate: Right.

Aoshi: (I was thinking that they were a strange pair, but that last comment seemed fatherly.)

Amadate: Kabuto… Your scheme was clever but keep in moderation.

Kabuto: …Whatever.

            *Amadate leaves*

Aoshi: --What do you think you’re doing?

Kabuto: Hm? It’s a coup d'état.

Aoshi: A coup d'état? That’s…

Kabuto: And… A pure love for theater.

Aoshi: Huh?

Kabuto: Nothin’.

Kabuto: By the way, weren’t you were scouted by the old man?

Aoshi: Yeah. I was approached by Amadate at a local hospital, and since I wanted to leave my parents’ place, I came with him.

Kabuto: So, your indebted to him.

Aoshi: Well…

Kabuto: Whose side are you on, mine or the old man’s?

Aoshi: What?

Kabuto: If we’re ever in a conflict in the future, whose side would you be on?

Aoshi: Its hard to say for sure, until that time comes.

Aoshi: While it’s true that I’m able to do theater in Veludo Way because Amadate scouted me, I don’t have any personal attachments to him.

Aoshi: I’m not working hard for the sake of paying back a favor. When the time comes, I’ll choose the option that’s most beneficial to me.

Kabuto: Heh, alright then. I’ll have you carry out a part of my plan.

Aoshi: I respectfully decline.

Amadate’s Subordinate: Will you be going straight home?

Amadate: No, head to the office.

Amadate: Also… Keep an eye on kabuto for a bit.

Amadate’s Subordinate: Yes sir. Aside from that, there’s something else you may want to know…

Amadate’s Subordinate: Reni Kamikizaka is colluding with Syu Otomiya and the other members of the first generation’s Mankai Company to look into you, Sir.

Amadate: … Well, isn’t that too bad, Kamikizaka?

Amadate’s subordinate: What would you like to do?

Amadate: Just let them swim free a little while longer.

Amadate’s subordinate: But they have some pretty troublesome members over there…

Amadate: When the time comes, I’ll do whatever it takes to crush them, even if I have to be a bit forceful.

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[penname-artist]

Too tired to do art in addition to this, but here's some more content for that My Little Pony styled Dusty and his universe:

He earned his cutie mark (the blue lightning bolt) via a competition he was a part of as a young colt at a town fairgrounds. It was sort of a cross-country competition, with a lot of extra elements in it (think like the big race of the Sisterhooves Social) and he earned it in the last leg of the race, running for all the stamina he had left in him and lunging the last several feet past the finish line. He came in third, but his efforts did grant him that visual mark of his destiny, to race and compete (though at the time, he didn't quite know to what extent that would go...)

He found work instead, plowing corn fields around Propwash Junction, much to his dismay. Though the old geezer who'd been plowing those fields the decades prior had been a family friend in need of another set of hooves and a strong, sturdy back to break under a yoke and plow. Dusty felt he at least owed him for selling him a place to live in town while he worked.

Part of what allowed him to get to compete in the qualifiers for the WatG rally (it might have another name by the time I get through world building but I'll save you the over-complications) is that he, along with the helpful hooves of Chug, Sparky, and Dottie, has a pair of canvas-and-wood 'wings' that he uses to fly. It's not the *most* stable or efficient way of flying, and it grants him no other favors (like needing parts adjusted or fixed, and not being able to land on clouds or do really anything small that pegasi could do without thinking about) but it does get the job done. Enough that he is cleared to compete!

I haven't set anything in stone yet for who will be what species, but I do have a few ideas bouncing around in me noggin. One of these is that I kinda wanna make Ripslinger a griffin just for funsies. Really taking a few pages outta Gilda's scenes in the show to slap on that egotistical green guy.

It's also kinda a given that most, if not all forklifts/tugs that exist in the WoC would translate into unicorns. Though I don't want to be *too* clear cut on who translates into who, I really just wanna let the character's behaviours shape what kind of species they'd end up being.

That being said, this also means a LOT of characters are still in the phase of figuring out what they are. I like the idea of making Blade and other Piston Peak members another string of weird species, but I haven't settled yet on anything, other than making Cabbie (and likely the Smokejumpers) species of dragons. But I DO have other specimens to toy with, like hippogriffs and kirins...

And on that note, I'm also not going to try to force myself to fit into a specific MLP universe timeline, either. The majority of the characters and world will be based on gen 4's universe, but it may not be entirely "exact" to it, or in the same time period as where the show occurs. It's mainly the Planes story, as told through the universal rules and concepts of gen 4 My Little Pony. Because fuck you, I am having a week of regression and I cannot be stopped.

[ottopilot-wrote-this]

Coven, Part II

Coven is a work of erotic fiction, intended for adults 18+, written by Ottopilot. Images were AI-generated by Ottopilot using Stable Diffusion 1.5. Content warnings: sexual content, mature language, mind control, corruption, occult, sadism

Previously: Part I, This is: Part II, Continued in: Part III, Part IV, Part V

Lily tossed her messenger bag on the sturdy but well-worn pine table, followed by her drip Clockwork Coffee, black, and had a seat. She pulled out her laptop and opened the clamshell.

Taking the coffee to her lips, Lily closed her eyes and took small, careful sips. Still too hot to take a big chug, she needed that strong acidic bite and intoxicating aroma to get the cobwebs out. Clockwork wasn't for everyone — too corporate for some, not foodie enough for others �� but Lily appreciated its consistency. The trademark dark roast offered a dependably predictable experience in a world that was anything but.

The senior journalism student took a deep breath, drawing the earthy smells of coffee and university library into her nostrils, and began by reviewing her notes from Sarah's debriefing.

"I took Dr. Bishop's class on polytheism and paganism my senior year, and she wrote my recommendation letter for grad school. She's my faculty advisor, and we've become very close friends."

Starting with Dr. Helen Bishop's university bio, nothing pegged her as Future Evil Sorceress, Lily thought, chewing on her pen. B.A. Stanford, M.A. Harvard, PhD Brown. Tenured faculty at Blackthorn College, vis a vis Dartmouth, Wesleyan, and Amherst. Expert in polytheism and witchcraft. Author of two books: The Many Faces of the Divine: Polytheism in a Monotheistic World and The Arcane and the Divine: Magic, Ritual, and Worship in Antiquity. Her headshot, a black-and-white photo of a middle-aged Southeast Asian woman with short hair and a friendly smile, was pleasant and benign.

Lily frowned, peering at the search engine results. Amazon.com link to her books. Link to a piece in Anthropology Quarterly. Glowing student reviews of her classes. Notices of past speaking engagements. A neglected Instagram account with photos of her travels and food. Her LinkedIn profile.

With a frustrated sigh, Lily removed her reading glasses and rubbed her temples. There's either something I'm missing, Lily thought, or Sarah's out of her freaking skull.

"Through word of mouth, we formed an unofficial witchcraft interest group. We performed positive spells for personal growth or things we wanted. For example, the professor regretted never having children, so we cast fertility spells for her." "Did they cast spells for things you wanted too?"

The door to the apartment closed as Jamie headed off to class, and Sarah Rodgers was alone. He seemed like a good guy, she thought, making it harder for her to despise him out of pure jealousy.

Lily had practically sprinted out the door this morning, while Sarah pretended to still be asleep on the couch. It was clear Lil was trying to avoid her. She was doing Sarah a favor, a huge one, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

It felt strange to wear Lily's clothes, especially the sweatshirt. This goddamn aquamarine, threadbare sweatshirt.

Sarah didn't think it was intentional. Lil could come off cold and impersonal, but she wasn't insensitive. No, Sarah thought, just because she had strong memories of this sweatshirt doesn't mean Lily gave it a second thought.

Sarah took the sweatshirt in both hands, bringing it up to her face, and inhaled deeply. It wasn't exactly the same. She guessed Lily switched detergents. But it still smelled like her, sweet like a summer peach.

She loved to wear it, Sarah reminisced. Anytime she caught a chill, she put it on, unzipped, over her clothes. The bright hue clashed with Sarah's goth-influenced, monochrome tastes. But Lily loved it.

And Sarah loved Lil. So she came to love it too.

Spring of her freshman year, Lily ordered some sexy lingerie online as a surprise. But Sarah was late, stopping to pick up Szechuan on the way back from class, and Lily got a little cold. When Sarah arrived, there was Lily, an absolute knockout in sheer and lace…and glasses, and that goofy sweatshirt.

They both had a good laugh, and they stayed in all night, making love and eating out of take-out boxes in bed. Sarah truly loved being dominated by Lily. She craved submitting to her, had trusted her with her safety. Even after Lily had marked her flesh, after Lily's fingers closed around her delicate neck, she would have let her do it again.

Sarah remembered Lily before she became guarded and closed-off, when she didn't take herself so seriously. They were so happy then. As she sat alone, wiping away tears with the sleeves of Lily's favorite sweatshirt, she wasn't sure she had been happy since.

If you thought magic could heal your broken heart, was it so illogical to try it?

"When Helen came back to school this fall, something had changed. She had changed."

Lily felt a chill. This damn library was always so drafty. You think with the cost of tuition, they could turn the heat up a bit. Guess it's bad for the centuries-old books.

She pondered this sentence. Assuming Sarah hadn't lost her mind, what happened to Dr. Bishop last summer that made her go off the rails?

Lily leaned back in the chair. Besides wanting to get out of the apartment, Lily liked to work in the library because of these firm, unrelenting chairs. It was harder to fall asleep if the chairs weren't comfortable.

She looked at her notes. Looked at the browser. Cycled through the open tabs. Amazon. LinkedIn. Instagram.

Wait.

Turns out the good doctor was fairly active on the Gram for a while. A photo with a graduating student. A batch of cookies she baked. Striking Italian architecture. A pasta dinner and a generous glass of wine. Tuscan vineyards. A necklace bought at a shop. That was the last photo, 4 months ago.

Lily looked at the necklace. An odd thing, made of iron, triangles overlapping with horns, inset with rubies. Not particularly pretty, though definitely old looking. A strange thing to turn up in a tourist-trap Italian antique shop.

Excited at the prospect of a lead, Lily selected an area around the necklace's charm and conducted a reverse image search. Lily was initially discouraged as very few results were returned - until one of them stood out from the others.

"Hell yes," Lily said to herself, leaping out of her chair. She hurried to a computer, looking for the library's copy of "The Arcane and the Divine: Magic, Ritual, and Worship in Antiquity" by Dr. Helen Bishop.

With the enthusiasm of a bloodhound on the trail of murderer, Lily scoured the aisles of books until she found it. Quickly she scanned the index, and found the entry about the demon Asmodeus.

Lily read the passage aloud to herself:

"In Abrahamic religions, Asmodeus is a demonic king associated with lust and revenge. He wielded a weapon, the Ruby Rod of Asmodeus. It is believed that, in tribute, worshippers of Asmodeus circa 100 A.D. created an amulet called the Eye of Asmodeus. Constructed of iron, the Eye of Asmodeus contains a large ruby surrounded by both a triangle and inverted triangle, forming a pentagon. The Eye also has bull horns on both sides. "The ruby in the Eye of Asmodeus is rumored to have been created by submerging the ruby in the spilled blood of innocents. It is suspected to give the wearer the ability to influence and control minds, at the cost of eroding sanity and morality of the user."

"Well, that sounds bad," Lily said.

"She was leading us down a dark path, but we were so seduced by the power we willingly followed."

Watching morning game shows, Sarah tried to think back on how she got here. She thought of the metaphor of a lobster being boiled alive, the temperature slowly rising while the clueless lobster succumbs to its fate. The corruption of the coven was innocuous, comforting and soothing until she realized it was almost a full boil.

When Helen came back to school, she had so many new spells and techniques to show them. They all saw the immediate results, and were drawn to the power Helen yielded. She made them feel special and chosen and worthy of this forbidden knowledge.

The spells began small, with unforeseen consequences. Amy wasn't feeling well, so Helen taught them how to alleviate her nausea. Michiko had a disgreement with a neighbor in her dorm, and Helen taught them to make the girl see the error of her ways. It wasn't initially clear Amy got better by stealing energy from healthy students, or that the neighbor was mentally manipulated. The group identity of the coven eroded the morality of its members, making them rationalize the means to justify the ends.

Sarah started to wonder if she and Laura had overreacted. Maybe it was all a misunderstanding. There might be punishment, but the coven would take them back, Sarah thought. And now, Sarah was reconnected with Lily. Lily had a curious mind and a thirst for knowledge. They could learn about the mysteries together… maybe, this could be a rebuilding point.

"Samhain, after dark tomorrow, is when the barrier between the physical and spiritual world is weakest. That's the origin of Halloween. But what if I told you it was real?"

Lily did not have "ask the school librarian about cursed grimoires in their collection" on her bingo card, but here she was.

A yawn escaped Lily's mouth as she looked over the musty tome. She wasn't even sure what she was looking for. Three years of high school Spanish was only marginally helpful for translating Latin. She was basically looking at pictures like a toddler reading the encyclopedia, trying to follow along.

"This has potential," she murmured, as she looked at a drawing of a person, laying on their back in the middle of a pentagram. "Samhain… luna… corpus… Ah, fuck this."

Lily pulled out her phone, opening up Google Translate. There's no way it can read this handwriting, she surmised, so she furiously typed the words into the text box.

Samhain cum plena luna occurrit, corpus daemonibus deditur; anima daemonium regis coronatur.

"Okay, Translate," Lily said, hitting the purple button on her phone. Within seconds, she read the resulting message.

At Samhain, when the full moon occurs, the body is given to the demons; the soul of the demon king is crowned.

"Oh shit," Lily exclaimed. Sarah was right, and in grave danger.

"One of the junior witches, a literature major named Laura Valencia, took me aside. She said she overheard Helen planning a ritual with another witch, and that she mentioned a sacrifice."

The Price is Right had ended, with a college student jumping up and down, hugging Drew Carey, before transitioning to the mid-day news. The anchor, a handsome well-coiffed man, spoke with a booming baritone.

"More reporting on our lead story from this morning: a fatal bus crash on Interstate 495 has traffic snarled up for miles around. It appears the culprit was poor visibility, as the driver lost control during last night's surprise storm.

"The driver and all passengers onboard were killed in this tragedy. The bus was a Greyhound bus destined for St. Louis."

Sarah covered her mouth in shock. No. No no no no no.

Laura's bus. Sarah put her on that bus to get her away from here last night, before going to Lily's.

She wasn't being paranoid. She was in danger too.

"Without Laura and I, there are only 11 witches in the coven. Samhain - Halloween - is tomorrow night. I don't think the ritual can take place without us, and I don't know what will happen when it doesn't."

In a panicked frenzy, Sarah tossed blankets and couch cushions, looking for her phone. She had to call Lil, to get out of here, before they found her. Where the fuck did she put it?

She heard her ringtone, from the bathroom. Of course, she needed to charge it last night. She started towards the bathroom to retrieve it, when a voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

"Hello, Sarah."

[megan0013]

week 1 - dystopia

Arcadia’s defense systems are some of the best in the country. The walls around the town are high and sturdy, their arsenal of weapons well-stocked and diverse thanks to a successful raid on Area 49-B, and, oh yeah, they have advanced technology only aliens have ever seen before. Because there are aliens in Arcadia. And a coven of very capable witches and wizards. And a legion of gnomes that have sworn absolute fealty to The Town Council after some incredibly difficult negotiations involving dream houses, nougat nummies, and a full-time hat maker.

And there’s the Trollhunter

His warnings are the reason the citizens of Arcadia were able to defend themselves after Gunmar’s hoards had taken the east coast and started making their way west from New Jersey. Without him, they never would have built the wall in time or stockpiled munitions and non-perishable food. They wouldn’t have known anything about weak spots in gumm-gumm armor and how to take advantage of them, or the typical battle strategies the troll army employed. And they certainly couldn’t have designed the vast, complex system of tunnels and traps that had been used to obliterate whole legions in one fell swoop.

Of course, that’s probably because he’d once been a very prominent tactician in the Skullcrusher’s army.

Not that many Arcadians know this about him. His wife and stepson do, obviously, and a handful of close family friends, but to everyone else he’s just Walter – the guy who loves puns and used to teach history at the high school before everything went to hell. They don’t know he’s one of those scummy changelings or that his armor isn’t the real reason he can switch forms. And why should they? Most people have only ever seen him become a troll when Daylight is in his hand. If they want to believe his stone skin is just a byproduct of being named the Trollhunter, then so be it.

The trolls in Trollmarket, though... Well, they know exactly what he is.

It was a tough sell at first, being accepted, but gaining Vendel’s approval and introducing his small family had gone a long way in earning their respect. Draal loudly declaring he’d only had Jim for a day and half but if anything happened to him he would kill everyone in the room and then himself hadn’t hurt, either.

The few who remained wary of him eventually left for what they thought were greener pastures, or quickly changed their tune in the aftermath of Gunmar’s escape from the Darklands.

And now, after three years of successfully leading trolls and humans alike, the Trollhunter’s judgement has been called into question by his own wife.

At least, that’s what it feels like to him.

“Stalklings aren’t pets, Barbara! They are killing machines.”

Barbara, however, doesn’t look the least bit impressed by her husband’s outburst as she continues strolling through the stable of what was once a petting zoo but is now home to a clutch of brand new stalkling pups and their mother. “Just because you’ve had a few unfortunate encounters with them, doesn’t mean they’re all bad. I mean, seriously. Look at that cute little face.”

The stalkling in question does not have a cute little face. Not at all. In fact, she’s got blood-red eyes and an ugly gray head and terrifyingly large teeth.

“It literally tried to eat you at the supermarket,” Walter says, watching incredulously as Barbara takes the great winged beast’s beak into her hands for a scratch. “You still have the scar on your leg from where it bit you.”

“We surprised her, that’s all. Persephone would never hurt me on purpose. Would you, my sweet girl?”

“Persephone? You named it?” Walter huffs out a sigh, fingers going to pinch the bridge of his nose in obvious frustration. “Darling, you can’t name them. Now we’ll never be rid of it.”

Barbara raises a brow. “That’s sorta the point, Walt.”

Persephone snorts in agreement.

“And, anyway,” his wife continues with a gentle peck to Persephone’s beak, “Jim wants a vespa or a puppy for his birthday, so…”

Walter blinks.

Barbara bats her eyelashes.

Walter frowns. “That’s not a vespa, nor is it a dog.”

“Oh, no, babe. Of course, not. But since all the scooters have been stripped for parts and I’m allergic to dog hair, I thought, well,” she grins and gestures to the five pups chirping away in the corner of the stall, “these little guys might be the perfect gift.”

The Trollhunter whimpers, knowing deep down in his heart that he’s already lost this particular battle and he's about to become the proud grandfather of not one, but five baby stalklings.

“Besides,” Barbara pats his cheek before pressing a kiss to it, “he can’t have Persephone. She’s my pet.”

[cowboymenace]

T-Shirt Salesman Makes Embarassing Return

At All In 2023, CM Punk would ruin his second chance run in a company willing to give him everything by starting a backstage scuffle. He seemed gone from wrestling in general, but his truest believers hoped and coped that he would show up in November 25 Survivor Series in Chicago. It was a funny prospect knowing that several company line towers like Seth Rollins and Booker T would have to swallow a bitter pill, Cody Rhodes's story will most likely not be finished this Wrestlemania, and some poor title holder will lose their belt to him. As funny as it may be, I still did not want it to happen.

Punk spent 9 years griping and complaining about his time in the WWE. He took potshots when he could, sometimes taking a moral stance when doing so. For example, he would tweet about how abhorrent it was for the WWE to work with Saudi Arabia.

The tweet is now deleted.

His signing with AEW was a massive shock, but it makes sense. AEW feels like something that was for wrestling fans by wrestling fans, and the guy who presented himself as the voice of the voiceless seemed like a good fit. His first few programs were rock solid affairs. Everything was going fine until one bad back n forth town hall battle.

Hangman Adam Page would make sneak references to CM Punk and Colt Cabana which would be something Punk would tuck into the back of his mind. Then you add his foot injury, his mood began to really sour. CM Punk would have one of my favorite title matches with Jon Moxley at All Out, I was reassured that he would be back and stable. Then all hell broke loose.

Everything about this has been said, but this is still the craziest thing I've ever seen. A top star having an end all be all meltdown and completely killing Kayfabe. At this point, I thought he was done as he got suspended indefinitely. Months pass and suddenly a sign that CM Punk was coming back (again) but this time with his own show. To be honest, I think AEW should have a second show to give their large roster some time, and it has that vibe. You got guys like Andrade, House of Black, Bullet Club Gold, and Ricky Starks evolving themselves. Jokingly, it was the show for people who had too much beef with people on Dynamite, Thunder Rosa and CM Punk to be exact. Again, everything was going fine until nepotism hire Jack Perry provoked notoriously easy to provoke CM Punk.

Another backstage altercation occurs. CM Punk is fired. Young Bucks do a victory lap off air in front of a collision crowd (ratings for that show are in the dumps by the way, to give you an indication for some of the EVP's priorities). It seemed like CM Punk was gone for good.

Everyone scoffed at the idea of Punk going back to the WWE. Why should he return? The same company that hosted a video with weird zooming in on his ass to prove he didn't have a staph infection

The same company that sent him his termination papers on his wedding day. The same company that down played his value because he wasn't the guy they chose to be the main top star. It just tells everyone who believed that he has convictions that he is a massive mark for himself. What, suddenly the company that mistreated you is gonna give you top star treatment? The guy who you specifically mentioned as the primary actor who's goal was to make sure you don't succeed is in charge! CM Punk does not realize he is Charlie Brown, Triple H is Lucy, and the football is a main event at Wrestlemania.

I'm certain Punk will make good money during this run, it's a guarantee. The man who once said 20 million is enough now says otherwise. The only thing that isn't certain is how much will Punk tolerate? Will Punk keep his mouth shut as a trainer hands him a Zpak? Will Punk work the schedule he once bemoaned? How sturdy is his body that seems to be crumbling? He is in his 40s now, how much further does he have? He probably hasn't considered those questions, he's too preoccupied with how many T-shirts he is going to sell.

[nowandajenn]

Blue Christmas- chapter 7 (anger)

Pairing: Chris Evans/OC Kelly

Summary: After almost three years of marriage, everyone would tell you that Chris and his wife Kelly are the most stable, solid couple they know. But behind closed doors, things are tense as they keep trying for a baby, to no avail. When a secret threatens to shake their solid marriage to it’s core, will they be able to pick up the pieces?

Series warnings: angst (like a lot), mentions of infidelity, language, family drama, pregnancy, sexual situations.

Author’s Note: I do not consent to have my content, whether it be this story or anything else of my creation, posted by a third party on any other platform other than right here without my permission. This blog is 18+ and is not intended for minors. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Heed the warnings.

Christmas Day

One day I’ll wake up and I won’t want to immediately feel like I’m going to die. Today is not that day, apparently. 

When I blink my eyes open, the very first thing I see is Dodger’s furry face. He’s laying on the bed next to be with his head on my chest, staring intently at me like he’s been waiting for me to wake up. He does this constantly to Chris and I, and we always find it hilarious. 

“Hi, baby.” I whisper, my voice hoarse from all the crying and the whiskey last night. I’m in our bed and to my immense relief, I’m dressed in a pair of soft sweats and a T shirt, which I have no memory of putting on. 

After we got back here last night, I went straight to the liquor cabinet and poured us both a drink and put on A Muppet Christmas Carol and cried and bitched and ranted about how much of a bitch my mom was, and Chris just kept quiet and let me vent. At some point I remember almost falling asleep on the couch and Chris nudging me awake, and then....nothing. 

I glance over at the nightstand and see that Chris plugged my cell phone in for me to charge overnight and there’s Advil and a gatorade sitting there. I don’t know how much good Advil is going to do since it feels like there’s an elephant sitting on my head, but what the hell. 

After peeing and brushing my teeth and hair to at least appear somewhat human, I make my way to the kitchen and stop in my tracks. Lisa is standing at the stove making what looks and smells like french toast and bacon, and there’s coffee brewing. Chris is sitting at the dining room table (after the debauchery that occurred on top of it a week ago, I’m sincerely hoping that Chris went at it with a ton of Lysol) looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. 

My fight or flight urge kicks in and I’m two paces into going back into the bedroom when I feel something soft but sturdy hit me in the back. 

In a flash, Dodger is at my feet, devouring the croissant that Lisa threw at me. 

“Not so fast. Get in here.” Lisa says. The look on her face and the tone of her voice leaves no room for argument. I turn back around and walk into the kitchen, leaning in to give Lisa a hug. 

“I’m sorry. I should have called.” I say softly. 

“Yeah, you should have. But that’s not why I’m here.”

The food finishes a a few minutes later and I help her plate it up and bring it to the table. Once we’re all seated, Lisa looks from me to Chris. 

“So, who wants to tell me what the hell has been going on the past few weeks?”

“Mom-” Chris starts. 

“No, save it. Something big is going on, and you’ve been lying to me about it. And I know you’re lying because you suck at it. And Scott knows what’s going on because every time I ask him about it, he looks like he’s about to puke. Now here’s what I know: you guys apparently had a fight. Kelly’s been staying with her brother in the city. I can’t get either one of you to tell me anything, which is a HUGE red flag, because neither of you have ever been shy about coming to me about anything. Now what is going on?”

I lace my fingers together and rest my fists under my chin. 

I know this is going to kill Chris. And it’s going to kill Lisa. And it’s going to kill me to have to fucking hear the words come out of his mouth again. And there’s a good possibility that Lisa will kill Chris, or at the very least beat the piss out of him.There’s a whole lot of killing that’s going to happen. 

Chris looks at me with such a profound sadness in his eyes that it nearly breaks my heart. 

“Just tell her. Get it over with.” I say sadly. 

“The reason Kelly hasn’t been here is because......” I watch as his eyes shine with tears and his adams apple bobs up and down in his throat. I close my eyes and try and brace myself for the words that brought my world down a few weeks ago. “I slept with someone. I cheated on her.” Lisa’s jaw drops and she looks to Chris, who’s barely keeping it together and then to me, my jaw clenched tight and my eyes closed. 

Seconds pass without a sound. Then a minute. Then two. 

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

Her gaze swings to me and I can see her eyes brimming with tears. She reaches across the table and grabs my hand, squeezing it tightly. 

“I didn’t want anyone to find out until after the holidays. I didn’t want to ruin anyone’s Christmas.” I say softly. 

I watch Chris swallow thickly. 

“Honey-”

“No. You don’t get to talk right now. You were raised better than this. I raised you to be better than this. I’ve been proud of you you’re entire life, but right now.....right now I’m so disappointed in you I can barely stand it.”

I take my coffee and my plate up to my office on the second floor, not wanting to be there or listen as Lisa lays into Chris. As it is, I can still hear her yelling without hearing what’s being said. 

I knew everything was going to come out sooner or later. I just really wished that it would happen after the holidays. Between the disaster with my family last night, I guess it’s only fair that Chris has his turn. 

There’s a knock on the door as I’m finishing my coffee, and Lisa opens the door a bit, and I can tell that she’s been crying. 

“I don’t even know what to say.” she tells me softly as she takes a seat in the comfy armchair in the room. 

“I don’t know if there’s really anything TO say.” I whisper. 

“Honey, why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you talk to me? You didn’t have to go through this all by yourself.” 

I pull my feet up on my chair and wrap my arms around my knees and look up at her. 

“I could barely begin to process any of it myself. When he told me, I kind of just went on autopilot. I didn’t want to be alone; part of me was afraid of what would happen if I was alone. I knew that if I went to you or Shanna or Carly or any of our friends, it would all come out, and I wasn’t ready for that. I couldn’t stay here with him. So I fled to Connor’s. I kind of trashed the studio, then just shut down. That’s why Scott knows. Connor called him because I physically couldn’t get out of bed for four days. He came to check on me and laid with me for a few hours. I was ashamed. I AM ashamed.”

“Kelly, the only person here who should be ashamed is my son. He didn’t tell me any of the details, and honestly, I don’t want to know. I don’t know what the hell was going on in his head. I am so, so sorry about everything. I just....I can’t believe any of this.”

A thought pops into my head and I turn to her. 

“How did you know I was here?” I ask. 

“I didn’t. I had Scott start on dinner for today, and I came over, determined to get the truth out of Chris once and for all, no matter what. He told me you were here sleeping. He gave me the Cliffs Notes version of what happened at your parents’ last night.” 

I scoff and roll my eyes. “Yeah, it was one for the books. I just couldn’t be around any of them last night. I just wanted to be here, at home.”

“What about now? Where do you want to be now?” Lisa asks. 

“I don’t know. I’m so sorry for all of this happening on Christmas. I hate feeling like the holiday is ruined. I hate that you and Chris are fighting. I hate that Scott and Chris are fighting. I just wish we could have a nice Christmas and just pretend that everything is normal.” I tell her. 

She takes my hands in hers and rubs them, warming them up. 

“If that’s what you want, that’s what we can do. God knows I could wring Chris’ neck right now, but it’s Christmas. If you think you can handle it, and handle everyone, we can do it. I’ll hold everyone off on the questions for today. But you know eventually.....you and Chris are going to have to sit down and talk.”

“I know.”