#WHY ARE THERE SO MANY ANTS OUTSIDE

[fisheyes-are-tasty]

3-4 hour landscape study where I went outside (shocking!) to paint the area

bringing a picnic rug next time because there were SO MANY ANTS OH MY GOD THEY WENT ALL OVER MY BRUSHES TOO (do ants like linseed oil??? or oil paints????) I THINK THERE ARE ANT CORPSES IN MY LINSEED OIL AND MAYBE IN THE PAINTING TOO?

[mechawolfie]

bruhhh I usually ignore warnings for depictions of panic attacks bc I figured I wasnt vulnerable to them but I've just watched a video abt The Scene in puss in boots & ngl i am Feeling the Effects

[0bticeo]

lurk | feyd rautha

part four of five. (part 1.) (part 2.) (part 3.)

summary:

“i need you,” he rasps, etching a molten kiss on the dip of your collarbone. “need to get rid of his taste.”

his hand crawls up your thighs, the folds of your velvet dress gliding against your skin. you can still hear the soldiers outside, feel the low thrum of their clamour in your very bones. should you focus, you’ll perceive the baron’s suspensors sucking away at gravity, the servants’ roaming about, feet like neelde-ants on cold marble.

anyone could catch you.

“what are you waiting for, my lord na-baron?”

wc: 1.6k

tw: political machinations, reader being inches away from killing everyone in the damn place including feyd, kissing, biting, mentions of breeding, possessive & needy feyd, sub!feyd, oral (fem receiving), fingering, hallway sex.

you’re getting tired of dreams. 

there’s terrible, terrible purpose dripping from their edges. you see it all - snapshots of horror, fractals reflecting endless bodies dropping to the ground. sixty one billion people, dead. ten thousand worlds burning, the universe begging for respite under your brother’s crushing fist.

paul. little mouse, whom you’ve shielded all your life, whom you’ve sparred with, crysknife pressed against his throat, his shield a feeble protection against your blade. something shatters. blades. so many of them. your blade. jamis’ blade. feyd-rautha’s blade. 

your dream has you standing in what you know to be the emperor’s ship, shrouded in bene gesserit veils. two silhouettes stand against the bleeding sun of arrakis. 

the realisation embeds itself in your mind, marble-carved. fate is looking down upon you and tells you: one of them dies in the end.

when you wake up, there’s a scream dying on your tongue.

you don’t know where you are. you don’t know where you are, why your side is on fire, why you taste blood in your mouth.

slowly, you rise, heart beating furiously, breath laboured. i must not fear. your fingers dig your sheets. the infirmary. fear is the mind killer. you close your eyes, will yourself to breathe. fear is the little-death that brings total -

a hand settles over yours, bone pale fingers weaving with yours. warmth settles on your shoulder. you relax, ever so slightly, leaning into the touch, burying yourself in the crook of feyd-rautha’s neck. he’s all sharp edges, honed to deadly perfection. in the quiet midnight of geidi prime, he softens for you.

“what troubles you?”

you wonder if you should tell him. of the golden path, paved with blood, so much blood it clings to the soles of your feet, you see it rise, rise, eager to seize you-

a low mumble of your name.

“dreams are messages from the deep,” you whisper in the crook of his neck. 

his hold tightens over you, brings you closer to the warmth of him, thumb running over the smooth skin of your belly, over your unborn child growing there. from your position, you can feel it, the way his vocal cords vibrate. he’s purring, soothing you bit by bit.

you tilt your head, hand coming to cradle his face, knuckles brushing against his cheek.

“i should be plotting your death.”

a low chuckle, a flash of almost eagerness in his eyes.

“i don’t doubt you will.”

his hand wraps around your neck, resting on the soft skin of your throat, bringing you closer to him, shifting your bodies until you’re straddling him, arms wrapping around his neck. you could strangle him. you could use the voice. ask him to take the knife you know rests on the bedside and slit his own throat like the harkonnen beast he is. use it yourself.

but you’ve sealed your fate the moment you stepped on arrakis. so instead, you let the darkness swallow your confession.

“i don’t want you to die.”

“i won't,” he mumbles against your lips, words like an oath as he kisses you.

they say the beat of a butterfly wing can cause a tempest on the other side of the globe. you wonder what tempest will be borne out of the fury beating in your chest. here goes: morning comes. the spice rules it all, even the baron’s affairs, so he gathers his troops to make a planetary governor out of feyd-rautha. 

the glorious sun of geidi prime shines its lifeless light upon you all. 

the finest harkonnen soldiers, ruthless hounds barking their sovereign’s name in fervent adoration, thousands upon thousands of ants stretching as far as you can see. they corrupt it all the harkonnen, eating away at the horizon. waiting. 

you’re waiting, too, hands folded before you, lone silhouette clad in dark robes, veils like a mask before your face. bene gesserit, the court calls you. 

not quite.

by bearing feyd-rautha a child, you’ve gained a modicum of respite. the bene gesserit will spare you, the mother of their precious kwisatz haderach. they will keep your survival a secret and bury it behind inscrutable eyes.

plans within plans within plans. you’re a pawn in the baron’s meaty hands, he’s a pawn in yours, and the bene gesserit have been pulling the strings for ninety generations. 

your gaze flits to the scene before you. feyd-rautha harkonnen, clad in dark leathers, silver embroidery like pauldrons over his shoulders. the mass of his uncle hovers above him, a hovering beast eager for power. two meaty hands encompass his face - absolute disgust coils in your chest as you watch vladimir harkonnen kiss his nephew. he kisses back. a show of dominance.

the soldiers howl his name, earth trembling under the clamour. they salute, arms crossed over their heads, a living, breathing organism, synchronicity at its peak. 

arrakis has a new ruler. 

a hand clasps over your wrist, drags you away from the adoring masses, in the sweet darkness of the palace’s hallways. you’re pinned against the wall, and feyd-rautha looms before you, terrible hunger burning in his eyes. slowly, he lifts your veils, high enough to bare your mouth to him. 

“my lord-”

you’re cut off by his lips on yours, eager, desperate, savouring you like fine arrakean spice-wine. 

“i need you,” he rasps, etching a molten kiss on the dip of your collarbone. “need to get rid of his taste.”

his hand crawls up your thighs, the folds of your velvet dress gliding against your skin. you can still hear the soldiers outside, feel the low thrum of their clamour in your very bones. should you focus, you’ll perceive the baron’s suspensors sucking away at gravity, the servants’ roaming about, feet like neelde-ants on cold marble.

anyone could catch you.

“what are you waiting for, my lord na-baron?”

he nips at your ear, grin sharper than his blade as he sinks to his knees. slowly, intimately, a shadow curling at his mistress’ feet. he unravels you, nails raking up your thighs, liquid desire burning in their path. 

“eyes on me.”

your eyes snap open. oh, he’ll be the death of you, with the way his eyes freeze you in place, willing, begging for his touch. you shiver, a low, needy sound escaping you. 

he grins, a flash of black teeth against the liquid darkness of your robes. shadows will swallow you whole - he will swallow you whole. already is, with the way he trails kisses up your thighs, teeth sinking in the meat of it until blood drips on your skin. 

he’s lapping at it, hands wrapping around your leg, spreading you apart inch by precious inch until he fits the broad expanse of his shoulders in the space he’s carved for himself. he raises his head, leans his cheek against your thigh, nuzzling in its softness. there’s blood coating his lips, sweet like forbidden fruit, and an unquenchable fire in his eyes.

“exquisite,” he purrs, nail digging in the blossoming mark he’s left, until your hips seek his touch.

he puts his mouth to you. you bite your lip, hard, as you feel him tease you, tongue lapping at you like sweet pomegranate, skilled fingers coaxing pleas for more. the cold of his silver ring has you keening - you're melting against him.

it’s obscene, how the only sounds you can hear are the pleased moans of your lover, the squelching of your juices dripping down his face, his wrist. it’s too much, too fast - your nails dig into his nape, bringing him closer. fucker’s purring, hands digging in your hips. he’s making a feast out of you, and you’ve never seen prettier sight. 

feyd-rautha, kneeling at your feet, a pretty, pretty blush dusting his cheeks, his soft mouth on your cunt, ruining you as he denies himself sweet release.

“feyd-”

a jolt - he’s just nipped your clit, and you’re falling apart with his name on your tongue, burning, melting in the pits of desire. you grow boneless, faltering on unsteady legs. he pulls you to him before you can fall, kissing you, moulding his devouring mouth to yours. 

distantly, you register that he’s breathless, that he’s pressing you against him, that you can feel the dampness at the front of his pants.

his voice is a low, needy rasp.

“you taste divine, my dear.”

there’s a commotion. someone, somewhere, is calling. a servant. a feast is prepared. blasphemy - the baron is a beast, and he will not have his nephew leave without obscene amounts of food. good. it leaves room for you to plan - you’re running out of precious, precious time. there are too many variables for you to act alone, yet you are.

you’re sitting at feyd-rautha’s side at a banquet table. on you watch, a mockery of a bene gesserit, nails digging in your palm. there’s a knife before you, of course. the baron’s sitting at the head of the table, stuffing himself until he’s about to burst. 

repulsive.

you could do it now. put an end to the harkonnen, avenge your family. plunge that knife in the baron’s throat and watch him die like an animal. 

but revenge is best served cold. you remember princess irulan being seated in front of you. you remember the emperor at the head of the table. you remember his knife slicing through unknown poultry. a falcon. he’s doomed your family to death. 

the emperor is old. paranoid. anybody would’ve seen that the atreides were far too loyal to even consider rebelling against him, rising influence or not. someone convinced him otherwise. the truthsayer, reverend mother gaius helen moriam. 

you take a bite of your own meal and find it tasting like ash. the only dish you yearn for is revenge.

you want the baron dead. you want the emperor stripped of his power. you want to watch the split second of horrified realisation on the reverend mother's face. 

you want them to burn, and burn they will.

taglist: @kpopnstarwars @moonsoulk @alexandrainlove @saturnhas82moons @coureurs-de-bois9 @kamcrazy123 @beebeechaos @avidreader73 @yzuposts @jaiuneamesolitaiire

[thatonegayship]

Hey man me again, it’s nearly 3am and i was curious. What would theoretically happen if someone (say a human bully, or a lesser uninformed demon or smthn of the sort) were to put down and talk absolute shit about Dipper with the anticipation of Bill joining in and/or being impressed and agreeing cause here’s this super cool and sexy guy surely he also thinks Dipper’s a useless freak right? How would Bill take this kinda confrontation about his husband? Would his reaction vary depending on wether or not Dipper was there? (I lowkey think it would but I’m just a worm in a bait bucket uk) (also sorry this comes across like a fucking critical thinking question from a middle school textbook)

At best someone talking shit about Dipper gets a long lecture about all the reasons Dipper is way, way cooler than them! And some broken bones. That's Bill's husband, he picked a great partner, and he is not going to pretend otherwise for someone else's ego.

The rant's absent if Dipper's around, but frankly? It'd be better for the bully/demon if Dipper was around to hear someone dissing him to Bill. In that Bill would refrain from the most gruesome acts within his mortal's sight.

Though if they're smart, they'll notice the way Bill's looking at them, and take that brief amount of time to run.

[kaivenom]

May I request something heart break high related please?

Pool Pals

Summary: a normal afternoon with Ant ended up with you two breaking into the Hartley pool

Pairing: Anthony Vaughn x reader

Warnings: breaking into places, usual parties and alcohol, they are canonicaly 18th so it's not underage drinking.

A/N: Answering this person (the first request on this blog) i am really happy to do this and contribute to increase the little amount of fanfics that this fandom has. Of course i will write about them and i will write more from now on.

Masterlist

At first, you two were hanging out on his garage, doing dumb stuff and not caring, then he said "let's break into the school's pool" and you said yes. It was exciting, just the two of you breaking the chains of your high school and like that, you were right in front of the pool. Everything would be dark if it wasn't because of the lights that came from the low of the pool.

"Oh my, we forgot swimsuits," you said slapping your forehead.

"Why we need them?" he looked at you with a smile and stripped himself into his underwear.

He threw himself onto the pool and gave you a gently hand to get into the water, with that adorable smile. You were a little self concious about entering with your underwear but at the end you did, and took his hand into the cold water.

"Are you shivering?" he asked you laughing.

"No, of course not, idiot."

You splashed him jokingly and suddently you started a water war. It was very funny, like time wasn't passing at all, each moment your bodies getting closer with the excuse of making the other one wetter.

At some point he wrapped you around his arms trying to made you stop, but neither of you could stop laughing, but his face was closer every second he twisted you with his arms. That little fight made the noise outside go unnoticed.

"What we have here?" suddently the door slammed open and an incredible amount of people entered the pool room, that voice was from Spider, "Man, you weren't answering my calls, i though you were dead, but when i tracked your phone and saw where you were i couldn't resist."

Now your relaxed oasis was full of people, drinking, partying and making noise. You didn't have the courage to get outside of the water and Ant was dragged with Spider. Now you are alone.

You spotted Amerie, Darren and the rest of your group and tried to get their attention. Once they saw you, help was provided and you finally had a towel to cover you up and went outside the pool. The next couple of hours you were with them, trying to ignore the fact that Spider ruined a beautiful moment. You couldn't talk anymore to Ant but you noticed his gaze on you.

"The police is here!!!!!" that was the sound of chaos, everyone started running and screaming.

Many people ended up on the pool trying to escape and you almost did that if it weren't for Ant's hand catching you. You two started to run and the towel fell off, you couldn't care less at that moment. The escape went for a couple of miles, until you didn't hear the sirens of the police anymore and you were sure you were alone.

That's when you realized the absence of the towel and tried to cover your body. Ant was fast thinking for once and got out his shirt to put it directly on you.

"Thanks," you said nervously.

"Nah, don't worry, it looks better on you." both of you smiled.

His hand went to you face and carresed slowly your cheek, his lips met yours in a sweet kiss.

"I've been wanting to do this all afternoon."

"Yeah, me too, but Spider..."

"Don't talk about him right now, you want to take a walk and find a nice place to seat and finish our hang out finally?"

"I would like it very much, but maybe i should go by my house before because i don't have pants right now."

"Nah, you look very good like that, but i can give you mine if you want."

His hand interlaced with yours as you two started walking down the street and laugh at Ant's jokes.

[dawnisatotalqueen]

PROMISE

title: promise

character: steven hyde x reader

warnings: alcohol use, marijuana use, mentions of virginity, mentions of assault, cursing, semi frequent use of l/n (last name), zen masters (jackie x hyde) if u squint

summary: when you met the boys, you made a promise to never date any of them. though this gets harder and harder to follow as you all get older and more attractive.

disclaimer: i do not support danny masterson in any way, shape, or form. i just have an attachment to hyde </3

word count: 2972

part two

You were a maneater. At least, that’s what your friends said and you didn’t necessarily disagree. In your mere 17 years of life, you had accumulated nearly 30 boyfriends. In a town like Pointplace, there weren’t very many eligible bachelors, and it didn’t help that you swore off dating the hottest one.

Years prior, at the very beginning of middle school, when you had met Kelso, Foreman, and Hyde, you made a promise. You promised to yourself, and to them, that you would never date them. You enjoyed their company a lot, which is exactly why you didn’t want to risk dating any of them.

Naturally, as time progressed and Fez joined the group, he was included in the group of boys you wouldn’t date, though in all honesty, you probably never would have dated him regardless.

As you got older, you had started to ever so slightly regret your promise because as you got older, so did the boys, and oh boy, was one of them hot.

Hyde was gorgeous and exactly your type. But did you think Hyde was hot because he was your type, or did you think he was hot because he set the standard for your type? The world may never know.

To put those feelings aside, you upped the ante on your dating game. You were the most “desirable” out of your friend group except for maybe Donna or Jackie. You dated jocks, nerds, stoners, and basically any other clique in your high school.

That led you to now, walking into Eric Foreman’s basement, which is where you usually were, waiting for a guy to show up for a date.

You wore a pretty black dress and your signature green bomber jacket.

Donna was the first to look over, whistling with a grin. “Damn! You look great.”

Jackie looked over, gasping a little and pushing up off of Kelso to rush over to you. “That dress is gorgeous!! Much better than what you usually wear.” She looked over the dress.

You giggled at the backhanded compliment. It was something you were used to with Jackie, and you found it endearing. “Thanks! Got it just for the date. Definitely keeping it, though.”

Hyde raised a brow. “You don’t usually dress up for dates. Must really like the guy, huh?” You didn’t notice it then, but he shifted uncomfortably, his posture tensing.

“Damn it!! Stupid lucky guy, getting (L/N) to dress up all nice for him..” Kelso crossed his arms over his chest, pouting.

“At least we get to be blessed with the sight.” Fez sighed happily.

“I don’t know, I don’t really like him.” You shrugged. “He’s just takin’ me somewhere fancy, figured it was the least I could do.”

“Well, you look great. Hope you have fun.” Donna got up, patting you on the back.

“Thanks!! I’ll swing by after, yeah?”

“We’ll leave the door unlocked.” Eric commented, smiling.

“Great!” You heard a honk outside. “That’s my queue. Cya!” You grinned, heading out the door.

Hyde rolled his eyes, or, that’s what everyone assumed. It was a little hard to tell with the glasses. “Doesn’t even have the decency to knock, and she’s giving this guy a shot?” He scoffed.

“Someone sounds jeaaalouusss!!” Kelso snickered.

“I’m not jealous. I just think (L/N) could do better than some dude who can’t even knock on the door.”

“It’s okay if you’re jealous, Hyde! I mean, she’s going out with a popular jock. It makes sense you’d feel insecure.” Jackie returned to her spot next to Kelso.

“Why would I care?”

“It’s obvious you guys have a little back and forth thing.” Jackie giggled.

Donna hummed, leaning against the couch. “I figured you guys would’ve at least made out by now.”

Hyde scoffed. “Never gonna happen. She literally swore off ever dating me, Foreman, and Kelso.”

“Is that all that’s stopping you?” Eric raised a brow.

“No.” Hyde was almost too quick to answer. What he didn’t say was that he thought you were out of his league. He was a teenage dirtbag, and while you were their friend, you also were more of a social floater than anything. You dated jocks and the most popular guys in school. He’d be stupid to think you could ever be interested in dating him..

Right?

..

It had been a couple of hours since you left, and everyone had sort of faded out. Eric retreated upstairs to his room, heading to bed, and everyone else had returned to their respective houses.. Everyone except for Hyde, that is, as he had found himself recently staying in the Foreman’s basement after an incident with his Mom.

He lounged on the couch, taking a puff from a blunt that he had rolled when he heard the door open.

You stumbled in, reeking of cheap booze. More importantly, though, you had visibly been crying. Your mascara left streaks down your face, and your nose was red and puffy.

“What happened?” Hyde sat up straight, stiffening. Did that guy hurt you? He would kick his ass if he hurt you–

“That guy was a douche.” You huffed. “Got me drunk, then tried to get laid.” You wobbled over to the couch, sitting next to him. You held out your hand, and Hyde got the message, passing you the blunt.

“Did he hurt you?”

You shook your head. “Pushed him off.” You deeply inhaled the smoke before blowing it out, sighing. “Sucks. Used to it, but it sucks.”

“You’re used to it?” He stared at you, a little bewildered.

“Most guys get pissy when I won’t sleep with them.” You kicked off your heels, leaning back. “Don’t wanna lose my virginity to some guy I don’t even like.. Is that bad?” You looked at him, frowning.

“That’s not a bad thing.” He pushed a piece of your hair out of your face. “Plenty of people wanna save it for someone special. Like the whole til marriage shit.” He shrugged.

“Guess so..” You looked down before smiling, nudging him. “Why can’t every guy be as nice as you?”

He raised a brow. “You think I’m nice?”

“Yeahh!” You grinned, your slurring words the evidence of the alcohol still in your system. “In your own way. Liike, you may not act like it, but I think you care about everyone. At least a little. Like when you took Jackie to prom! Or now, you’re comforting me after a shitty date.”

“If you keep goin’ you’re gonna make my ego big.” He snickered.

You smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Shut upp.. Point iss, you’re super sweet in your own way, and that’s what mattersss..”

He wrapped his arm around you. “You flatter me too much.”

After you didn’t respond, he looked over and realized you had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He sighed a little, propping you up and then picking you up. He took you to his room, laying you down on his bed and tucking you in.

He sat down next to you, watching you for a second. You looked so completely and utterly peaceful. He let out a breath before standing up.

Was your promise all that was stopping him from pursuing you?

He stood still for a second before heading to the door and flipping off the light. “Night, doll.”

..

You were very confused when you woke up the next morning, and you were in Hyde’s bed. You were still in the same clothes from the night before, and there was no evidence that anyone else had been in bed with you, so you felt pretty confident that you didn’t sleep together.

You scooted off of the mattress, getting up and peeking your head out the door. You didn’t see anyone in the basement, so you figured it must’ve been earlier in the day. You walked around, spotting a blanket on the couch, and you figured Hyde must’ve slept on it. But, he was nowhere to be found.

You decided to head upstairs and hopefully wash your face, maybe even get a change of clothes that Laurie left behind.

When you opened the door to the basement, you hissed a little upon seeing that the Foreman family were all sitting around the table, eating breakfast like the classic sitcom family.

You turned around, trying to tiptoe down the hallway when the floor board underneath you squeaked. You hissed, turning around when you heard Kitty’s voice behind you. “Y/N? Is that you? This early in the morning?”

You turned around, smiling awkwardly. “Ah.. Yeah, sorry. I um– I let myself in.”

Kitty gasped a little, getting up from her chair. “Goodness! You look awful!”

You assumed she was referencing your tear smudged makeup. “Yyyeah.. Rough night.”

“Let me get you cleaned up.” She put a hand on your shoulder, ushering you through the hall.

That left the boys in the kitchen. Red looked at Hyde, raising a brow. “You slept on the couch last night.

Hyde paused. “Yup.” He shoved a bite of his food in his mouth.

“Did she stay over?” Red leaned back in his chair, eyeing the curly haired boy.

Eric whistled lowly. “Dang, Hyde. Maybe Jackie was right about you being jealous.”

Hyde rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t like that. She had a crappy date and passed out. I didn’t wanna wake her up just to make her leave.”

Red looked at him for a second before raising his brows. “Well, that was nice. But you two really need to stop letting random kids crash here.” He cringed.

..

Meanwhile, you were in the bathroom with Kitty. You washed your face, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were a little swollen, but it was nothing major. You sighed a little before Kitty spoke. “I’ll get some clothes from Laurie’s room for you to change into. I can wash your clothes for you.”

You smiled at her, nodding. “That’d be appreciated, thank you.” You took off your jacket, handing it to her.

She smiled at you, taking your jacket before freezing when she saw your wrists.

You hadn’t realized it, but the jackass that you went on a date with had left bruises on you when he was trying to get handsy.

“Did.. Someone..” Kitty trailed off.

“No! No, no. Nothing like that. I, uh, I pushed him off of me.” You reassured her.

She frowned. “Oh, dear.. That had to have been hard.”

You looked to the side, frowning a little. “...Yeah.”

She put a hand on your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Well, you’re safe now. And you’ll have clean clothes soon enough.” She smiled, heading out the door and getting you some clothes.

Laurie’s clothes were comfortable. Kitty got you a pretty simple tank top and some pajama pants, which you didn’t mind. She told you she’d let you know when your clothes were clean, so you made your way down to the basement. It had been about an hour since you had seen Hyde and Eric since you took a shower during that time.

The usual group had gathered in the basement during that time, watching something stupid on TV. You made your way down the stairs, running a hand through your hair.

You casually walked over, sitting on the arm of the couch, putting you next to Kelso and Jackie. Only then did everyone realize you were there.

“Hey (L/N)!” Donna grinned, raising a teasing eyebrow. “How was your hot date–” She paused when she saw your appearance. Slightly swollen eyes and bruised wrists were the first thing to stand out.

“Jeez! You look awful!” Jackie looked over at you, and you couldn’t help the giggle that came out. She sounded just like Kitty.

You hummed. “The date was shit, but it’s cool. Didn’t really like the guy anyway, and I got free food.” You shrugged it off.

Hyde watched you, his eyes drifting down your body before they landed on your wrists. He didn’t see that the night before. You really did have to fight off that douche-bag.

Donna got up from where she was next to Eric, going to the back of the couch and hugging you. “Aw.. I’m sorry, babe. You can do better anyway.”

“Like Hyde said yesterday, you could do way better than a guy who honks!” Fez hummed, nodding to himself.

You blinked, looking in Hyde’s direction, seeing him shrug. “It’s true.”

You could feel your cheeks heat up, and your eyes soften, but before you could dwell on the butterflies in your stomach, you heard a honk from outside. You all paused, and Eric looked in your direction. “Do you have another date?”

You shook your head, getting up off the couch. “Who could that be?” You went to the door, opening it and going up the outside stairs, spotting a familiar car. “..Oh god.”

The guy you had gone out with the day before got out of his car, spotting you. “(Y/N)-- Can we talk?”

You grimaced, crossing your arms. “Why?”

You could hear your friends gathering up behind you as you walked up the driveway.

“Listen, I get kind of weird when I’m drunk, I didn’t mean to be so pushy.” The boy frowned, looking down at you.

You grumbled, rolling your eyes. “And I suppose you didn’t mean to ditch me and make me walk home too then?”

“You had to walk here?” Before you knew it, Hyde was by your side, looking at you.

You looked at him, frowning a little before shrugging. “Yeah. It’s–”

“Please, just– just give me another chance.” The boy stepped closer to you, trying to grab your shoulders.

Hyde stepped between you, pushing the guy away by his chest. “I think you’ve done enough.”

“And who do you think you are?” The guy stood up straight, getting in Hyde’s face.

“I’m her friend. And I don’t appreciate how you treated her.”

“Well, frankly, I think it’s none of your business how I treat her.”

“It kind of is when she busts into my basement crying.”

“Don’t be dramatic. I was just trying to have some fun.” The guy rolled his eyes. “And the bitch was basically asking for it with that dress–”

Hyde punched him, and he held his bleeding nose. The guy growled, throwing a punch at Hyde, and before you knew it, they were fighting. You squeaked, reaching your hand out. “H– hey there’s no need to fight it’s fine–”

The guy elbowed you. Right in the eye.

You hissed, holding your face. “Fuck–”

Hyde looked between you and the guy for a split second before he nailed his knee into his stomach. “You’d seriously fucking hit a chick?! What is wrong with you?!”

The guy coughed, holding his stomach and backing up toward his car, hurrying in.

“Yeah, screw off!” Hyde called after him, looking over to you.

Donna and Jackie rushed over to you, Donna, holding your shoulders. “O– ow shit– How bad is it?” You moved your hand off of your eye.

Jackie hissed. “Yikes. That’s gonna bruise. But it’s okay!! I have some absolutely great makeup that’ll cover it up, no problem!”

You giggled a little through the pain. “Ah, I don’t think that’s my biggest concern–” You looked in Hyde’s direction. “Are you okay?”

..

You and Hyde were left alone in the basement as the others were grabbing some stuff to help with your current conditions. Donna and Eric were getting an ice pack, Jackie was getting her makeup, and Kelso and Fez… Well, they were doing something.

You held a warm washcloth, dabbing at the little cuts and bruises on Hyde’s face. It was one of the few times you had seen him without his glasses for such a long period of time.

Once you were done, you sighed, smiling at him. “Y’know, you don’t need to get into fights for me.”

Hyde leaned back. “What? For you? Nah, the guy just had a very punchable face.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Right, right, my bad.”

He straightened up a little, clearing his throat. “Well, uh, are you good? I mean, that guy said some pretty nasty things..”

You shrugged a little, looking down. “I’m all good. He’s not the first guy to react like that to me rejecting them. He is the first guy to give me a black eye though.”

At the mention of your black eye, Hyde leaned forward, pushing your hair out of your face and oh so carefully touching your cheek. “Does it hurt?”

You stared at him, your breath hitching. “A little.”

He seemed to take in the fact that the two of you were mere inches away. He swallowed, looking down at you. “(L/N).. I uh.. I didn’t like that you went out with that guy.”

“What?” You furrowed your brows. “Why? Because he was like– a douche?”

“I mean, yeah, but I think it was ‘cause I uh…” He licked his lips. “I might, uh..”

Before he could say what he had on his mind, Donna and Eric made their way down the stairs, and you and Hyde quickly scooted away from each other.

Donna handed you the ice pack, and you pressed it to your eye, hissing a little.

“Jackie will be back with her makeup pretty soon, but I’d suggest not putting it on at least until the swelling goes a little down.” Donna hummed.

“Yeah, she–” Eric had started to go on a ramble about something, but you weren’t paying attention. Your eyes were on Hyde, who had casually gone back to his chair, acting as if your moment didn’t happen.

Was he going to say he liked you? What would that mean for your relationship? You were attracted to him, you had to admit, but did you like him?

Should you break your promise? 

[yan-randomfandom]

Kid!Stanley Pines & Kid!GN!Reader

Poor Stanley,,, why is his backstory so sad? This is where MC saw Stan and decided to cheer him up.

🍦

The moon emerged from behind the clouds, casting its light on the entirety of New Jersey. It peculiarly chose to shine on the Pines twins who were standing outside their lawn.

Ford frowned at Stan's crumpled sign that hung over his neck. Extra Stan, for three dollars or better offer, seriously?

"Are you really sure you'll be okay? I could help you sneak in after midnight, you know."

Stan tutted dismissively, waggling his index finger. "Tsk, tsk, poindexter. It's almost like ya want me to get in more trouble. Forget about me! I'll be fine, I swear."

"Ugh, I just wish Dad hadn’t done this," the former muttered, draping a blanket over the latter's shoulders. Ford looked into his brother's eyes with worry. "But... I'm sure he doesn't mean it. Things are just—"

Stan turned away, brushing him off. "Yeah, yeah. We're poor and stressed and all that. Now, scram! Unless you wanna end up outside like me!"

"...Goodnight, Stanley," Ford sighed, reluctantly leaving him alone. A few more seconds and Stan listened to their front door get locked.

It's quiet now. Nothing but the hushed noise of crickets and wind. Stan sneezed, pulling his blanket closer to his body. He sat on the rough sidewalk; it was better than the ant-infested grass behind him.

Stupid dad, he thought as he lightly kicked the ground. Stupid school.

Stan couldn't stop the tears from pricking his eyes. This is so annoying. Can sleep just hurry up and take him already?

...

A small, but noticeable creak.

The boy whirled his head toward the next house in alarm, locking eyes with you. You stared back with wide eyes, one of your hands supporting your window.

As soon as he noticed you, however, you promptly retreated into the comfort of your dark room.

Stan scoffed, crossing his arms. Great. Now he had the crazy neighbor's kid judging him too.

Whatever. It should be fine. He only had to endure this for one more day.

His eyes closed, his head tilting to his shoulder as he drifted into dreamworld.

...

It's hot.

Stanley fluttered his eyes awake, only to shut them close again when the sunrays horribly blinded him. What a terrible way to wake up...

He felt his dry tongue and cursed under his breath. While rubbing his crusty, sweaty face, he paused at the sound of bells harmoniously ringing.

There's an ice cream truck that was parked many steps away from him. Turning his head, he saw it had just one customer— you. He accidentally made eye contact, then quickly flashed you a smile before looking away and using his blanket to wipe the sweat from his face.

Ugh. This is awkward.

And the heat is unbearable. He needed shade.

...

Footsteps.

As Stan glanced at the ground beside him, he watched as an elongated shadow slowly grow taller by his sitting figure.

He turned and blinked at the sight of you offering ice cream. Your shadow comforted his overheated body even for a moment.

"Hi," you said. "This is for you."

Stan's gaze flickered between you and the ice cream. It was his favorite flavor. "Huh?"

Your hold on the treat slightly loosened. "Oh. Do you not like this? I think I've seen you eat this somet—"

"If you insist, thanks!" the boy snorted, swiping the ice cream away from you. He felt nothing but utter relief when his tongue tasted the cold.

Quietly, you sat down beside him, sparing a small gap between you two. Weird. He kind of expected you to leave right after that. One thing's for sure though—Stan couldn't handle sitting in awkward silence.

"Y'know, ice cream for breakfast is an interesting choice," he remarked, leaning toward you with a curious look. "I feel like it'd be better for dinner. And I'm pretty sure that it's still really early."

You fidgeted with your ice cream cone. "Um. Yeah. It's around eight."

"Eight?!" Stan squeaked, his eyes bulging. He’d normally still be asleep at this hour. It was completely off his sleep schedule. Aside from school— but it's Sunday! "Why are you here, then?!"

A smile curved your lips. "You slept outside. I just wanted to keep you company."

"We're not even friends," he pointed out.

"I want to be," you murmured, looking away from him.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." You modestly took a bite of your cone. "I said I bought you."

"Huh?!"

"Your ice cream costed three dollars."

"It did?!"

...

...

...

Ford stared, astonished, at the sight of you and his twin sleeping next to each other. Your head rested on his shoulder, while Stan's head nestled on yours. Both of you breathed gently as you snoozed.

[easy-there-leftovers]

I See You, Darling (3)

[Astarion x reader] As I mentioned in a previous post, this came along surprisingly easier than the last one. The same can’t be said about the quality though maybe– sorry for that. :,DDD|Word count: 2.6k.| 

Content Warnings: Mentions of cooking, handling knives, blood, one sex joke (lol), the normal warnings that you’d associate with the game

Part 2 here!!

Next Part here!!

As an outsider to most of everyone’s problems, you find your place by helping in whatever way you can. Even if that may be at the expense of your own comfort, but at least it’s been fun so far.

Alternatively: Reader can't catch a break from anything, can they?

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Being resident camp caretaker was surprising, for lack of a better term. You were away from the stresses of technology, corporate assholes, and disappointing family with your choice to pursue unpractical careers. Instead living the “cottagecore lifestyle” of foraging for food and cooking with a cauldron that those from the digital world claimed to be the best. What they failed to mention were the incessant pests coming in to nibble through rucksacks if you were not careful, and the occasional swarms of ants or flies coming in to nip at your flesh.

The experience was a mixed bag, so it would seem. But the tired smiles that the group would give you when you greet them with a warm and filling meal was always a comfort that you would have.

And it would seem they needed it now more especially than ever.

Your band of misfits planned to venture out and defeat the goblins at their camp in order to aid the tieflings’ journey to Baulder’s Gate. Per your instruction, you convinced the more solipsistic members of the benefits of eradicating the sect. Namely, they wouldn’t hinder you as much in the future if they were taken care of. Hence your plan to slightly increase the amount of portions for supper tonight.

By twilight, you had a good broth steeping in your cauldron. The camp having returned just a few moments prior from an earlier excursion. You were making a pottage that the others have expressed their enjoyment for. A stew of sorts that you had made when you had quite the number of items that would have spoiled before consumption had you not done anything about it. A mixture of fruits and meat, stewed in a consomme of a pig’s head and various mushroom caps. 

This time around, you’ll be using fresher ingredients to hopefully lift their spirits.

As you’re chopping up fruits, you think about all that’s happened to you and possible explanations for why your character suddenly ceased to exist in order to make room for you.  What’s more is that no matter how many nights pass, you never end up waking from your dream. Which you fear is lasting longer than your usual ones.

Your working theory is that whatever force, be it magic or fate, tethering you to this world is also responsible for removing Tav. Astarion claimed that he couldn’t remember the finer details when you had confronted  him. And so you settled with that hypothesis. That like how a thread that unravels opens a seam in a garment, a new thread must be used to darn the cloth together again.

You laugh at the disgustingly poetic analogy you created in your head. You fear that you’re becoming more and more deranged as—

“My, aren’t you busy?” The intrusive voice causes the knife to slip out of your hand a bit, thankfully only cutting off a portion of your index finger’s nail. Your shoulders, that were raised in alarm, release their tension after feeling the sudden chill leave your body.

“Astarion,”  Exasperated, you put the knife down on the cutting board to catch your breath for a while. 

“I would greatly appreciate it if you stopped sneaking up on me when I’m doing something dangerous.”

The high-elf offers a mischievous smile in response. “Very sorry, pet. But it’s hardly my fault when you’ve barely been paying attention to me.” There’s regret in his words, but not in his tone.

Because while perhaps it’s an odd interest, he enjoys hearing the quickened pace of your heart. The pulse getting louder, as it stays that way for longer.

“I’d feel sorry for doing so if you were too, but you’re not.”

You laugh out, breath still shaky but steadying slowly, as you pick up your knife again.

 “I heard you’re part of the encampment that’s finishing off the goblins by midmorn.” Chopping the rest of the fruits, you feel his presence move from behind you to off to your side so you can see him from your peripherals.

“Hm? Yes. Although I would have preferred if we didn’t do this at all. It’s too much work, and the goblins could be entertaining! Killing useful spoils seems like an awful waste.” 

This must be the reason why he approached you, to persuade you to call off the hunt. And his unfading smile supports that thought. When you voice said thought, it earns you a playful scoff.

“Don’t you have anything else on your mind other than the parasite lounging in it?”

The mood is light as you say this, the banter welcomed by you both. 

And as you continue to converse, a few eyes begin to follow the two of you. They’ve never really seen Astarion interact with you for this long, at least not away from your private spaces. And even less without hushed voices. The interlocution is definitely a welcome spectacle to them. 

“On my honor, the only thing on my mind is depraved, carnal lust.” He says, proudly. Gesturing to himself with one hand, and the other held high like he was swearing an oath. 

Your closed mouth drops into frown, eyes wide, and your eyebrows skew upwards. A very undignified, but small, squeak coming from the back of your throat. You swore you heard someone groan in disappointment from far away too.

You know full well that the look of shock that you were sporting was by no means attractive, but the flagrant revelation, though not at all out of character, was shocking to have directed towards you. You’ve been trying to romance the elven vampire with your character, only to end up nowhere. Therefore you are completely unsure if the dialogue he was spewing was completely a figment of your imagination, or is, indeed, canon.

The elf in question has seen this expression of yours before. Quite often, too. And while he doesn’t think it a, “pleasant sight,” it is rather… charming to him. 

Whether it be on purpose or not, people have the tendency to be on guard around him, preserving any twitch and sound that could give them away to themselves. Not that much had ever evaded him before with his naturally cunning behavior. But this clearly unscripted response, with the blatant confusion swimming in your eyes, is a rather refreshing sight to see.

“I see–” you clear your throat to lower your voice back to its normal octave. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities to uh, bring those thoughts into fruition! Uh–,” You slide the rest of the cut fruits off of your cutting board and into the stew. 

“Is there anything else you wanted to tell me? Something I should know?” You turn to face him. He laughs at first, but then his brows furrow in question, as if he did have something to say and forgot about it or thinks it is no longer an appropriate time to ask. He shakes his head and says something along the lines of, “letting you do all the hard work” and returns to his tent.

But you are not left alone for long as another member of your little ragtag team joins you to ask about dinner. To which you ask them for which meat would be better to toss into it. 

—————————

After dinner, your little rapport concerning the plan and new findings with everyone is adjourned. Some thanked you before they left, and others simply walked away. From what you have learned from them, the Archdruid that was taken prisoner by the goblins was named, “Halsin.” He was a topic of interest as they said he might be able to aid you in your search for moonrise and understanding the Mindflayer worms.

Wyll had also approached you alone after dinner and offhandedly mentioned a dead boar being on the road. He had planned to return to camp with it if it could have been useful, but he had claimed that the animal had been unnervingly light. As if half of its weight was no longer there despite seemingly just keeling over for no reason.

You take note of that in one of your many journals, including additional information about the Archdruid and their kind in general. The book appearing more and more like the game’s quest booklet, with the exception of a few crossouts and colored ink to emphasize each quest’s urgency and relevance to finding a cure. When you successfully rescue the druid of the grove, it seems you will have to move out quite soon after, so you fixed up your pack just a bit to make it easier later on.

You look around, everyone seems to be in their respective areas. Doing whatever it is they usually do  with the exception of Astarion. Though he has been known to either sneak off or hide away from time to time in his tent, so you think nothing of it.

You return to the communal chest, tallying up the remaining supplies and inspecting the wares. You sort the tradeable objects in one rucksack and appraise its worth. The chest also has pieces of gold, some that others have placed, and others you picked up and added. You prefer to let the others keep what they think is valuable to them, and only place what they want to share in the vessel. 

If the party’s gold ever runs out, you think that the rucksack is worth a few nights of food when you travel out again. Assured by this knowledge, you placed your writing materials back in, closed the chest, and turned in for the night.

Maybe this time, you’ll wake up. But you also don’t really want to. Not just yet. 

—————————————

As you slept, you wondered about the longevity of your knowledge of the media. You hadn’t finished the game, and although you’ve accomplished a fair bit of it, you worry about how you will face the events to come. One of the only reasons why you haven’t flinched so much at the terrors that occurred was because you had anticipated them. Braced yourself for the dangers ahead.

You fear what might happen when you no longer have that power at your disposal.

Perhaps it's the worry, perhaps it's the stiff, compact ground that you have yet to be accustomed to sleep on despite the bedroll, or perhaps it's the presence of something suddenly cool that stirs you awake. 

But what you did not expect was Astarion’s face hovering over yours to be the reason. Fangs bared, and ready to bite. Your eyes go wide and you let out a small gasp, hands moving up in a gesture akin to clawing at yourself. 

The elf realizes that you’re awake now and he curses. Moving away as you scramble upright just like you did all those nights ago. The look of genuine fear at the prospect of being bitten is apparent on your face, and he feels almost guilty to be greeted with it.

“Please, I wasn’t going to hurt you— I just needed, well, blood.” He says it in a panic. Worried that you might run off, losing his only sure chance, and possibly enraging the rest of the camp.

In this moment, you realized the error in your ways. Astarion had been hunting nearly every other night in the same area. And if you were progressing through the events like how the game did, he couldn’t have had the time nor energy to venture too far after feeding from most of the creatures in the vicinity.

‘The exsanguinated boar…’ You remember.

“You’ve been feeding on animals for the past few nights, haven’t you?”

“It seems like word got around then.” Although unknowingly, he’s referencing what Wyll delivered to you earlier in the night.

“I’m not some monster, I feed on boars, deer, kobolds– whatever I can get. I’m just too slow right now. And with the damned excursion,” He stops himself, complaining is only doing worse for his condition.

“It’s not enough. I feel so…weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better.” You’re conflicted. You had no problem offering yourself as your character for him to feed on, but even witnessing that through a disconnected screen was enough to make you feel uncomfortable imagining it. You care about him, want to give him what he deserves, but this…

What’s more is that you know what he’s saying is necessary, not at all overstating how dire his need to satiate his hunger is, making it all the more difficult.

He needs to convince you, if he wants to continue on, that is. Without the presence of the illithid, he resorts to more practical means of doing so. Similar to what he did to many.

Noticing the slight tremor of your hands, he takes the chance to slowly kneel down on your bedroll. Closing the distance between you. He takes your hand, now rougher from the work you do, and meets your shaken gaze with his dark eyes.

“Please. I only need a taste, I swear.” He had meant to tell you before dinner, had he not felt the eyes of the others on the two of you. This discovery is not lost on you. He needs you specifically. And you realize it's out of convenience because you’re an expendable resource. If you pass, the group can venture on, but he also still needs you alive for whatever reason. He can’t have the others finding out, not until they trust him. 

He needs you to trust him. And this is the only way you can help him in this moment.

With that, you strengthen your resolve. 

“I…I trust you, Astarion. But no more than what you need.” A dangerous bet, but you hope it would be worth it.

“Really? I–”

 “Can I trust you on that?” The shock on his face fades, and he agrees.

“Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?” You lay down, preparing yourself to faint during the process and allowing your blood to flow throughout your body. He observes the rapid movement of your eyes as he drapes himself above you. Your sight flitting from anywhere but him and then returning all the same. No doubt that you fear being at his mercy.

He feels almost sorry that you have to do this for him.

So he graces you with what mercy he can give.

The bite is quick. You would have felt the flesh of your neck parting for him, had he not done so. You feel tears prick at your eyes and start to feel the area from your neck and upwards go cold.

A momentary, sharp pain, that lulls to a chilling numbness in what seems like a matter of seconds.

You feel his body start to grow warmer at your expense and you feel satisfied knowing that you could help him.

When he doesn't stop, you start to worry.

Your breath catches in staccato beats, pulse quickening in tandem. You try to stop him, hands coming up to push or tug, but the heavy sensation that washes over you only permits them to find purchase on his form.

You try to speak, but it seems as if the common tongue does not reach him.

Your mind goes into overdrive, all of a sudden it doesn’t feel like a dream anymore and genuine fear courses through your veins.

You need him to stop, and you try to think of more efficient ways of doing so.

But your mind starts slowing as well. The pain has certainly faded, but the presence of the vampire at your throat reminds you in case you’ve forgotten.

As a last ditch effort, you try to use whatever might appeal to him, to break him out of the trance that he was in from finally replenishing himself. 

“Isalhal–” One of the few Elvish words you recalled.

The effort thankfully makes him pull back in shock, stopping him. Your eyes finally close, thankful for the reprieve you're finally granted. You hear a distant, “thank you,” and a more distant “shit” before rest takes over.

You worry about waking up tomorrow.

But for now, you’re thankful that Astarion will be able to fight well.

For himself and for everyone else’s sake.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Thank you to @rey26, @shyminnie07, @lynnloveshobi, @iggee-rose, @automnepoet, @tiannamortis, @aoirohi, @sarkara211, @jane-3043, @h3110-dar1in9, @h3ll0k1ttyl0ver333, @mimziethealien, @squichymochi, @sharabay, @furblrwurblr, @dork-of-the-universe, @thedevilssinner, @fuckalrighty, @queenofthespacesquids, @perseny, @goldenplutus, @h4nluv, @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer, and @auszimbo for asking to be tagged!!

[cripplecharacters]

is it offensive to call pwdwarfism "dwarfs"? ive heard a few people use it to refer to themselves, is it akin to reclaiming a slur? what are other words i can use if so?

Hello,

So, according to this post by @a-little-revolution, which is a video featuring a few people with dwarfism discussing the terminology the prefer, "dwarf" is an iffy term. It could be taken either way by people with dwarfism, some see it as an offensive term, others are completely fine with it, so it's probably best not to use if if you don't have dwarfism. If someone with dwarfism says it's fine for you to address them in that way, it's fine to refer to that particular person like that, but it's not a term they're all comfortable with

More acceptable terms include Little Person and person with dwarfism in an activism setting. But outside of that context, just refer to them by their names.

Mod Aaron

Hi lovely asker

So my thing is outside of medical circumstances and activism sorta talk, I don't see a need for the terms of dwarf, little person, and so on. If someone comes up to me and ask why I'm short (which has happened a multitude of times) I just say "I have a type of dwarfism". Most of the time people don't believe me especially because I have proportional dwarfism which is a less uncommon type of dwarfism that people don't take into account.

And the conversation of "well what do we call people that look like you" well you call us by our names. If you don't know our names just say "The shorter person, the small person" just normal descriptive terms.

If you're doing activist, or advocating, the general term that is used as a whole is Little Person/People or LP for short. If you're talking about another person, you're probably close enough to that person to know what terms they prefer. Midget is an absolute no, anytime and always. Dwarf—as Aaron said—is iffy with a lot of people. Dwarfism is another that some people like and some people don't. Little person is the most accepted one and even a lot of organizations have this as their names. Short Stature is one I'm honestly not sure about because people with proportionate types of dwarfism (Tuner syndrome, prader-willi syndrome, Noonan syndrome, and many more) are usually given the secondary diagnosis of Short Stature Syndrome. So weird medical stuff here in that not everyone is given that Short Stature Diagnosis it's very confusing and it depends on the doctor and even what type of Dwarfism/condition you have—but my point is some people hate using medical terms to describe themselves so just putting that out there.

Personally I like dwarfism, I don't mind dwarf, and I like the usual descriptive terms for Short. I actually don't like Little Person for myself, I don't like when people call me that, and again it's a personal preference. Even when I talk about myself I say "Short", "Tiny", "itty-bitty", "itsy-bitsy", I call my hands "pudgy" and myself "Stubby", "ant-sized", "The size of a speck of dust", "pocket-sized", my friends call me "Fun-sized" and "pocket-friend"; and even one of my very close friends calls me an "Elf" on occasion when I wear this pair of green socks that fit me comically big. I'm Mexican too so people call me "la nanita", "Chiquita", "poquito", and such.

My argument here is really that there's a lot of normal everyday terms to describe someone, we're not just medical words and definitions.

~ Mod Virus 🌸

[strawbqq]

HI THIS IS JUDY ON HER MAIN ACCOUNT I have to request for tecchou (and jouno too idk if you allow multiple characters 😭)

If you have ever read 'conversations with friends', it's about "tortured poets" meeting one another and bonding over it. But I was hoping for headcanons or a scene where the reader sorta "connects" with the hunting dogs over their line of work in this way? Like "I am you and you are me"

Maybe the reader is in the government but another org, idk take it however you want

If you haven't read the book/seen the show I sooooo recommend it btw it's so good 🥹

a/n: yesyes ty for requesting.ᐟ.ᐟfinally done after many many days of procrastination *ahem . I didn't read the book so im sorry if this isn't what u wanted 😭😭 enjoy.ᐟ.ᐟ

―⟡𝘽𝙎𝘿 𝙢𝙚𝙣 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙘 𝙝𝙘𝙨 + 𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙤

[Warnings: nothing.ᐟ✰] [Word count: 536 || 𝓮𝓷𝓳𝓸𝔂.ᐟ]🍓

°ᡣ𐭩ft. tecchou, jouno

sfw. hcs

𝕋𝕖𝕔𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕦

to cross paths with tecchou is a opportunity hard to come by even though u both work for the government

you first encountered each other during a joint mission

u don't really notice him until you see him eating beef w/ chocolate i see jouno yelling his head off in the corner

you're so professional and cool that tecchou is very intrigued by you 😔

tbh for u two to connect ur the one who's gonna have to initiate the convo

u see him in action during the mission and wow 🤩 olala

after the mission, u accidentally bump into tecchou in places u wouldn't expect (maybe he was always there, you just never noticed)

it's casual at first, just a quick 'oh, its you.ᐟ.ᐟ' but then a conversation starts, and u both realize yall have a lot in common

u both love nature walks/photography idk if this is accurate BUT BUT we did see him observing ants for 8 hours sooo

after a mission or a busy week u run into each other again in a park or near a scenic area

the casual setting gives u two a chance to interact outside of work, which naturally leads to a conversation.ᐟ.ᐟ

it's a relaxing, low-pressure environment for getting to know each other better\,,after a while u two are almost like friends rather than work associates.ᐟ.ᐟ

tecchou as a friend is so calming tbh

generally lets u do all the talking before saying something totally unrelated in the middle of a rant

altogether a very steady, reliable person

in the end u two are still divided by the invisible line that separates him, a hunting dog, from you, a regular government agent

but by now he's already lots closer to u than anyone else outside work, & he'll do his best to be a loyal & dependable friend 🥰

just like, never let him cook if u know u know

𝕁𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕠

you're sent to deliver important documents from your organization to the Hunting Dogs' HQ

it's a routine assignment, but when u arrive, alarms go off for some reason 😔

before u can explain yourself, jouno appears out of thin air using his ability and scares the shit out of you

well, he cant do no nothing bc he knows ur telling the truth

ngl, for u to feel connected to this guy, u must be one heck of a simp

u *might get on agreeable terms w/ him after a while, though, if you say you also hate tecchou

you're called back for multiple deliveries throughout the month

jouno, against all odds, actually remembers u.ᐟ.ᐟ wow

just talk to him and try not to be annoyed by his rants :)

challenge him (respectfully) he's gonna cheat

jouno as your friend tho???

100% blunt honesty, you're probably gonna get mad 9 times out of 10

probably knows u better than u know yourself after a while

absolutely doesn't let u get a word in, rants the whole time about tecchou or anything that annoyed him

u can never tell if he's joking or not

one of these days he's gonna go, 'why u smell like...blueberry and wet dog—'

yes please smack him for me

a/n: again im so sorry if this isn't what u wanted judy, im so proud that u requested 😭 BUT YAY FINALLY DONE HAHAHA (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ ty to everyone who read this, have a good day.ᐟ.ᐟ

𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾.ᐟ ʚ🍓ɞ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs + ʟɪᴋᴇs ʜɪɢʜʟʏ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ

o(≧▽≦)o

[ryuzakemo128]

Grim Reaper Part Three

Pairings: Poly 141 x female reader / female reader x her mental health

Content Warnings: Kidnapping, breaking and entering, mention of one-night stand, pregnancy from one night stand, possessive & obsessed Austrian man.

Words: 2345

Masterlist - Prequel - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine

Supernatural AU - Poem

Credit for Dividers: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Note: Song inspired this part: Only You by The Platters

Summary:

Only you can make all this world seem right.

Only you can make the darkness bright.

Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do

And fill my heart with love for only you

‘If you think you are perfect because you have no disabilities, illness or family trauma. I will be there to knock you to back on your knees and crush you like the ant you are.’

‘Pathetic.’

‘Weak.’

‘More excuses from those who have a superiority complex.’

‘Turn away like you do when someone asks for help, when foster homes and orphanages do shady shit. Your word mean nothing to me.’

‘Leave. Me. Alone.’

They don’t know what your real name is. Your file is coated in so many layers of black ink it might as well be a black page. Even then, so much of who you are and what made who you have remained classified. Under lock and key. Away from unauthorized personnel. To be able to view your file they would need permission from your superiors as well as their boss.

You wore a nanofiber, reinforced body suit underneath your shirt and trousers. The black jacket draped over your shoulders, as you continued to glare from the sidelines. “I don’t care why you might want to have her. She’s not yours to have, she doesn’t belong to you, she isn’t yours to take. She is better off in our care than she is in yours. Don’t ask or request for this again.” Your superior, to say he was angry with them would be an understatement.

“It’s like they don’t understand how you function.” He groaned as he slammed the phone down. Cutting them off from making more incessant demands. You and he walked from his office to the mission briefing.

“Hopefully, they’ll find someone else to assist sir.” You told him.

He nodded in agreement, “Hopefully they do Reaper, hopefully they do.”

It felt like yesterday when that conversation occurred. You wanted to go back to that time. It was far simpler than the time of your life now. Things didn’t feel like they were constantly stacked against you for one reason or some other.

You were always told to love yourself. Yet you never learned how. You didn’t have a role model like the children you grew up with. You didn’t look up to your mother or your father, you saw them falling over themselves. Mentally, sometimes literally.

You wondered what it would like to have parents to pick you up from school. For your parents to put your report on the fridge to show off your good grades.

You reminded Soap, “I'm only helping you to make sure you don't fuck it up.”

The thick leather boots kept the cold snow from seeping to your limbs. You’ve been here before. Many times, before. The cold welcomed you back like a mother waiting for them at the front door after school.

You make took any work to have the excuse to avoid a confrontation from any of them. ‘Can’t confront someone if they’re not there, right?’ you mused with a slow smirk creeping across your face.

However, they weren’t keen on letting you slip away into the night, you were about to cut firewood as they huddled up in the main room. You didn’t mind the cold as much. It felt more welcoming to you than the warmth inside. Layering the wood, you cut up into the firewood holder inside. Picking it up from the wheelbarrow you found in the abandoned shed close by. You were about to make another trip outside. This time to gather sticks, leaves and anything to keep the fire going without resourcing to depleting their back-up firewood.

A firm hand grasping tightly on yours as you turned the doorknob, you were warm, weren’t you? You had more layers on than an onion, at least you felt like you had more layers on than people would have loved to assume. The reinforced bodysuit, the shirt, the trousers, the fur jacket over the top. Black leather with fur lined gloves to tie it all together.

Layers like an onion. Warm like a Siberian bear. The more dead wood from the snow-covered forest you gathered, seeing your mother everywhere still, you walked closer to her, or you attempted to. Yet no matter how close you got, the further away she was.

Was she a hallucination? A visual and audible hallucination? A product of her grief, lack of proper sleep, a lack of a proper send off when your parents passed at sixteen. Once you saw your mother, it was like something inside of you snapped. You didn’t realise you were chasing after her until you felt someone grab your wrist tightly.

You were slowly moving further away from the cabin, step by step, losing your mind in a haze of grief.

‘Have you come to apologise?’ you wondered. Moving faster to get closer to her. Hearing her humming through the forest. Echoing through the trees. Feeling like you were ten years old playing hide and seek with your mother in the park. Only for to disappear whenever you got too close to her.

You didn't hear them calling out to you to snap out of it. You were too caught up in the chase, the illusion of your mother's presence. The cold wind whipped around you, but you felt no chill. Your mind was racing, your heart pounding. You were desperate to find her, to talk to her, to understand.

‘I’m coming mother. Wait for me.’

‘Wait for me.’

‘Please mother.’

Those three thoughts repeating like clockwork, repeating like a broken record. A grandfather clock chiming, the sound of the reverse and slowed down. You never caught up. As soon as you closed your eyes and opened them again. The illusion of your mother vanished, replaced by the stark reality of the snow-covered forest.

As the illusion of your mother faded, you found yourself standing in the middle of the snow-covered forest, the sound of your own ragged breathing echoing in the quiet. You felt a cold shiver run down your spine, not from the frigid air, but from the realisation of what had just happened.

When you got back to the cabin, you hoped you were quiet enough to sneak to your corner and sleeping bag to go to sleep. Ghost spotting you asleep in the corner, arms crossed and frowning like you were still annoyed with someone.

Even in your sleep. You looked like you were tired of dealing with people. Though you were not as young as people assumed you were. You were treated like you didn’t know anything or that you didn’t know any better.

“I’m a thirty-year-old woman. I’ve been in the military for twelve years. Stop treating me like I don’t know anything.” You said to Price once. You were beyond angry at the time. “You have second guessed every decision I’ve made since this whole thing started. If you have an issue with how I did things you could have told me instead. For someone so keen on open communication. You haven’t been doing a lot of it.”

"I apologize, Reaper," he said, his voice sincere. "I've been under a lot of stress lately, and I've taken it out on you. I trust your judgment, and I'm sorry for doubting it."

“Try to do better. An apology without action is just as bad as no apology at all.” You reminded him. “And no, I’m not mad at you, a little disappointed, but not mad.”

Price raised an eyebrow at the second part of what you said, "You're not mad? That’s a first.”

“What can I say? I’m full of stardust and miracles.” You snorted sipping your coffee, wrapping your gloved fingers around the white coffee mug.

Price chuckled, "You're definitely something else, Reaper."

“I try. It’s hard work, and most of the time, a bow and arrow doesn’t always cut it.” You replied, taking another sip of your coffee.

His gaze falling on the compact bow on the table, next to your recurve bow, more like hunting bows. The military didn’t use them as far as knew. You have been using them to hunt for more food, Ghost said something about it while you were gone hunting.

Soap loved taking naps near you afterwards, which didn’t bother you nearly as much as they assumed. “We’re in a snowy area.” You stated. As if they should think about the cold rather than anything illicit.

His head resting on your shoulder, as you both were fast asleep, as Ghost walked inside from the blizzard outside. His breath fogging up in front of his face, closing the door behind him. Eyes drifting over to where you and Soap were huddled together on the couch in front of the fireplace.

Now the mission a distant memory. An echo inside their minds. News of your kidnapping drifted to them. A week after it had occurred. You were taken by someone while you were on mandatory leave. Price kicking himself mentally. How would he have known this would be the outcome of sending you back home?

“When was the last message she sent out?” Price asked Gaz, his frown deep and his impatience growing by the second.

Gaz checked the transcripts of the most recent messages she had sent them to the last one she had sent through before the recent one. Searching for a possible connection between the last two calls you made. The only thing standing out to them was the number. The number of your mother’s cell phone stood out to them as an anomaly.

The last two calls you made were to your mother’s cell phone. Odd. Suspicious even.

“Gaz, run a trace on the phone number, Soap, grab the co-ordinates after Gaz gives you and follow up on the location of where the phone call might have come from.” Price said to the two of them.

Alaska. Northern part of the forest called the Chugach National Forest.

"According to what I've seen. It is coming from a burner phone." Gaz told Price.

Soap is still gripping onto the shirt you gave him a year ago. "Take it." You said.

"Odd way to give a present Reaper." Soap smirked.

"Odd way to say, 'thank you' Soap." You countered with a smirk. You didn't know how to give people presents without making it awkward.

Yet Soap, he never seemed to mind. He always seemed to appreciate your awkward attempts at gift-giving. He cherished them. Although now his mind has is pictures of you in an oversized hoodie.

When your rank of Lieutenant Colonel was revealed to them. A picture of you at 18, dead pan expression and a tired look in your eyes giving look of a 'perpetually resting bitch face' according to Price. Which strangely enough fit you, well that, along with your personality of a stray feline with a penchant of an Irish goodbye.

The last recorded message to them, 'It's weird being back home. But doctors’ orders are final, and I don't think I would be able to look him in the eye if I didn't. Fear of failure is scary I'll say it. It's strange here. Too quiet. I think I got used to Price's snoring and Gaz's endless chatter. You have no idea how many times I was overstimulated, and your chatter was the perfect white noise I needed. Hard to have ADHD and depressive disorder with psychotic traits mixed in. But hey, it is what it is, and the rest is stardust, biscuits, naps and getting scared because you saw your own mask in the mirror at 3am. I'll say this once though I love you. I'll never say to your face because you'll have to pry the word from me like you'd have pry the mint chocolate ice cream from my cold dead fingers. But, yeah, I love you and I'll see you soon alright? And you too Ghost."

The last message you sent out. 'I think someone might be in my house. Not too keen on being someone's target. Ghost, being you're the responsible one out of the two of us. I sent you confirmation of where I lived with my parents. A starting point.' The background noise of creaking floorboards, as you whispered. An unmistakable Austrian accent, "Maus where are you?" In the background followed by heavy rain masking the footsteps.

You continued to whisper into the phone as the message was pretty long in duration. "Ghost, you were right, I admit it, you were right during that argument, and I was clearly wrong." You moved to the attic. Sneaking there while the intruder was downstairs. You continued to whisper, "I'm sorry I argued with you. I should've listened to you. I should've stayed with you. I should've..." Your voice trailed off as you fumbled with the attic hatch, trying to secure it. "I should've just stayed with you."

A sob escaped your lips as you realized your mistake. You had been so stubborn, so determined to prove your independence, that you had ignored the warning signs. Now, you were trapped, alone, and terrified.

You pulled out your phone and sent a final message to Ghost: "I was wrong. He found me. I'm in the attic."

"Mäuschen there you are." The male Austrian voice said in a chilling tone, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the attic hatch. The line went dead as he crushed the cell phone beneath his hefty foot. "You're pregnant Maus. I can't have you hurting OUR child."

You didn’t know what he was getting at, what did he mean by our child? Surely you remember what he means by that don’t you? Apparently, it seems to bother him. It bothers him that you don’t remember him. That’s fine Maus. He’ll make you remember him. One way or another, you will remember who he is.

Over his shoulder you go Maus.

Right to the den of inequity.

One of his own making.

Only you can make all this world seem right.

Only you can make the darkness bright.

Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do

And fill my heart with love for only you

Note: I'm trying to hint at him without revealing who he is too fast. I hope you enjoyed reading. See you when part 4 comes out.

German Meaning for:

Maus means mouse.

Mauschen means little mouse.

[shxxxbi]

EVERYTHING THAT WASN'T INCLUDED IN LOVE SEA THE SERIES 🌊

Episode 4 (Chapters: 12 - 14)

<-prev

Breaking a promise

Rak felt like shit here. He had called Mook to extend his stay but his secretary had refused sternly; so after Mut spent two nights pleading for him to stay, Rak tried to find an excuse to keep his promise. He considered telling his secretary that the manuscript wasn't finished, that he needed more time, even considered telling her all the boats had sunk and it was impossible for him to go back to the mainland. But in the end, he had no choice but to admit defeat. He felt terrible for breaking his promise to Mut, meanwhile the younger boy appeared almost unfazed. His face was "just the usual, totally normal one, with the usual smile and the same look. Not a hint of regret."

"If he didn't care, then why would I?"

So Rak picked up his phone and transfered Mut the money for "his services". Now more than ever, Tongrak was convinced that all that had happened between them was just sex. Mut sold his service and Rak had bought it. Nothing he hadn't already done before with other people...

...yet, Rak had "never felt this hollow"

How much would it cost for you to go to Bangkok with me?

That hollow feeling in Rak's chest kept expanding. Memories of the time spent together with Mut flashed through his mind until a sudden warmth urged him to move. Tongrak was confident in his decision, in asking Mut to go with him. However, he still insisted that what he was feeling was not love. That it was just personal pleasure. And if he could afford it, what was the problem?

"The guy sold his service anyway. Right?"

WHAT!!!??

She didn't like this man at all. That's what Mook kept telling herself when she saw the man her boss had brought back with him. He made her feel "as tiny as an ant". Mook had screamed so loud upon hearing what Rak had done, that the airport staff almost came over to ask what was wrong.

"Brought back, as in purchasing?! Are people buying and selling men now?!"

I don't trust you

Mook wanted to back down the moment she met eyes with Mut. She wasn't familiar with men at all, the only men she was close with were her family members and Rak. Mut intimidated her, with his big body and his dark and scary face, so much so it made her want to cry. But no one could be trusted this days, what if this man assaulted Rak? What if he stabbed her boss with a knife in his sleep?

"She had to protect Rak!"

Mut, on the other hand, found her amusing. She was so small, he could "probably blow her away with a puff". But he was never one to bully someone weaker, so he turned to Rak.

"What should i do? If I show respect, she won't back down. But if you tell me to handle her, this little lady won't stand a chance."

Little Trivia: Rak's house

Contrary to the show, Rak's house is on the 27th floor of a very luxurious condo complex in the heart of Bangkok. It has 3 bedrooms, with the main one featuring a large wall window that offered a wonderful view of the bustling streets below. As for the other two bedrooms, one is a guest bedroom and the other one a study crammed with books. As for the kitchen, it is entirely made of Italian marble and has, basically, never been used.

Bro, are you crazy?!

This phone call actually happens after Rak and Mook have already set off to work. Mook had been waiting outside the door to Rak's house as soon as the sun was up, too terrified to enter on her own and find the two men fucking in the living room, so she waited for Mut to let her in. After the secretary and her boss had left, Mut gets a call from Palm. The younger boy kept shouting and calling him crazy, but Mut knew very well what he was doing. Many people would describe him as very mature for his age, but Mut knew he still tended to act childish at times. Just like he had done now. Following a man to the mainland with no plan whatsoever, simply because he was unwilling to let him go. Mahasamut knew that their paths would most likely never cross again, this was the only opportunity he had to keep Tongrak close. And he would not let it go.

Little Trivia pt.2: Mahasamut's age

Mut's age is never explicitly confirmed in the novel, however thanks to Khom we can figure it out. In "Love Sand", the story of Khom and Connor meeting and falling in love takes place when Khom is 19 years old. Many characters of Love Sea appear as side characters, including Palm and Mut. Palm is described as a boy around 17 years old, while Mut is "a few years older than him and around Khom's age". Fast forward to Love Sea (that chronologically takes place a while after the events of Love Sand), Mut describes Khom as his "younger close friend and brother". Also, in the prologue of Love Sea, Tongrak tells us that Khom is a decade younger than him. Since Rak is about to turn 31 and the two boys are around the same age, with Mut being apparently slightly older, Mahasamut should be around 21-22 years old, making the age gap between Mutrak around 9 or 10 years!

DISCLAIMER🚨: I have not read Love Sand, all the infos I have written come from people I know that have read it. Therefore, I apologize if something is incorrect🙇🏽‍♀️

Can you read the report and understand it?

Fortunately for Mook, Mahasamut had decided to go to the hospital alone and not drag her along. Said report was currently being examined by Tongrak and poor Mook couldn't help but wonder why her boss was smiling like that. How could a report make him so happy? She didn't understand anything of what was written, she didn't know a thing about STDs. How could she, she had never even had sex with anyone. Her confusion faded when Mahasamut explained he was clean, only to be quickly replaced by embarrassment at his next words.

"Maybe next time we can skip the rubber. I promise I'll pull out"

Yet, nothing could prepare her for Rak's answer

"Who said you have to?"

Mut kept teasing Mook for a while after that, while Rak observed them in the distance

"They get along very well. This is nice. The room isn't quiet anymore."

What if I say I won't agree to it?

Mut read the contents of the contract: Tongrak would provide him sixty thousand bahts monthly as compensation and cover all of his living expenses, including housing, food and even education, if he wished to pursue it. However, Mut had obligations as well: not disturbing Rak during working hours, not doing anything Tongrak disliked and, most of all, their relationship would end immediately at the writer's discretion. There was no love, nor commitment included. Mahasamut had to supress a growl in his throat. He disliked what Rak was doing, disliked how he was treating their relationship as if there was nothing but sex between them, nothing but money. But he knew this was the only opportunity he had to get close to Tongrak and he couldn't let it slip away, even if he wouldn't have much time. So, all he could do was clench his fists and hide his thoughts with a perfectly fine smile.

So, you're saying you can love me, Khun Tongrak?

Being very fair-skinned, when all his blood rushed to his face, Rak easily turned a bright red that let everyone know he was blushing. And Mut's words had him blushing hard. Tongrak had experienced every kind of flirtation imaginable from both men and women, but just a few words from Mut were enough to leave him speechless. Had the younger boy not read the contract? Had he not realized there was no emotional attachment between them, only money? How could he be so brazen in asking for love? But, most of all, why the hell did Rak's heart skip a beat?!

Vivi was very impressed by the island boy. She knew there must have been something special between them if Rak had brought him home; just as she knew how much her friend deeply craved for someone's love, even if he refused to admit it.

"You can just call me Vi, no prefix needed. And if Rak ever dumps you, just come to Big Sis. I like you."

"That might be difficult," Mut declined, "I won't let myself get dumped so easily"

And Mahasamut had never been more serious. He wouldn't let Tongrak drift away from him.

"I didn't say you could come in" "But you didn't say I couldn't come in either"

Here Mut actually enters Rak's room and sits on his bed, while the older man is busy playing on his phone. Unable to ignore Mut's gaze any longer, Rak put his phone down and looked up at him.

"That's better. Didn't anyone tell you that when you talk, you should make eye contact with the person you're talking to?"

Finally they talk about the contract, about their conversation downstairs and about how Rak doesn't believe in love, and this all but puts a sad smile on Mut's face. So, the younger boy reaches out to hold Rak's hand and intertwine their fingers.

"I know you don't believe in love, but I never said that I don't [...], you can't stop me from loving you."

Tongrak was at a loss for words. Confusion was written all over his face. He had never dealt with a situation like this before. He had never met anyone who said they'd love him.

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻

THIS. THIS IS THE MOMENT I HAD BEEN WAITING FOR.

In the novel, this does NOT happen. Or, better said, it is not a kiss on the lips. It's a kiss on Rak's temple. Now, why am i putting so much emphasis on this, you might be asking. I think this is another masterpiece of improv by our ship captain Khun Thitipong. In the novel, there is A LOT of emphasis on the fact that Mut desperately wanted to kiss Rak's lips but, since he had just made a very important speech about pursuing Rak and making him change his mind about love, Mahasamut decided that he couldn't give in to his desire. He wanted the words he had just said to embed themselves in Rak's heart. To make Rak think about him, about them, as more than just what happens in bed, and that is something that would take time. So kissing his lips had to wait. Now, after making this such a big thing, I don't think Mame would just suddenly change her mind for the show. Therefore, if 1+1 is 2 and the shit-eating grin on Fort's face and Peat's eyes are anything to go by, I assume Thitiwhipped decided to take matters into his own hands. Also, it seems Peat hinted at this himself in the reaction video for episode 4: after watching the kiss scene, Peat himself asks Fort if the kiss was scripted or just his improvisation.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk 🫳🏽🎤

[i-heart-hxh]

Does killua know gon loves him?

Hi anon! This is such a simple question, but not a simple one to answer. I'll do my best, though!

So, I think the answer is both yes and no, in different ways.

Yes, in the sense that Gon has directly expressed his appreciation of and admiration towards Killua multiple times, said he enjoys being with him and wants to stay with him, and even called him his best friend at the end of Greed Island (really BEST friend, 最高の友達, saikou no tomodachi--I think the translation of "best friend in the whole world" gets the emphasis of this phrase across pretty well).

He said it "Has to be Killua," (キルアじゃなきゃダメなんだ, Killua ja nakya dame nanda) in the dodgeball match, which has implications both during the match and outside of it, that Killua is the only one he fully trusts and the only one who can be by his side for something this pivotal. This phrase has romantic implications, essentially the subtextual meaning is "Killua is the only one for me," hence why Killua reacts as strongly as he does to it. Notice how much he hides his face on this page.

So, I think it's silly to say Killua has no idea Gon cares about him deeply and values him. There are so many moments where Gon says things like this. It's partly why Killua loves Gon so much, because Gon isn't afraid to express that level of love and care and appreciation towards him, as uncomfortable as he acts about it. He's just unused to that receiving kind of praise and attention simply for being himself, rather than being praised for his abilities.

With Killua's views of himself, it's hard for him to fully accept Gon's affection and take it to heart, but luckily Gon is straightforward and doesn't hold back, and keeps repeatedly telling Killua how much he means to him. As the series goes, they form a strong mutual bond and relatively good understanding of each other.

The problem is that multiple things happen in Chimera Ant Arc to disrupt Killua's sense of where he belongs in Gon's life.

He "fails" by fleeing from Pitou with Gon and "leaving Kite to die." While Gon doesn't blame Killua for the decision he made and neither does Kite, Killua nonetheless certainly blames himself for this to a degree. (Remember the scene with Morel and Knov mocking him?) It doesn't help that Bisky tells him that because of his inability to face opponents he sees as stronger than him, he'll eventually leave Gon to die. Then he watches the awful ramifications of what Kite's death does to Gon, knowing he had a role in what happened.

Gon goes on the date with Palm, and Killua variously misinterprets this whole situation to mean that Gon has been on real dates with women previously (I do not think he had been on any dates in an actual romantic sense), Gon actually might have romantic feelings towards Palm, and that they're in some degree of a relationship even after Gon tells her they can't be together and Palm quietly dumps Gon in favor of Knov after the date. This sends Killua spiraling into his whole "Are we friends? Or are we teammates?" concerns, in conjunction with the next factor.

Gon's "I swear... I'll take on that bastard myself," about Pitou, and the later "This has nothing to do with you," line. Remember how much Gon relied on Killua in the dodgeball match, and how much that meant to Killua? Remember how Killua very nearly died and his last thoughts were apologizing that he wasn't more useful to Gon? Killua stakes his whole sense of self on being useful to Gon, so when Gon makes taking down Pitou a solo mission, Killua doesn't know what role he has at Gon's side any more.

I'm sure there are plenty more factors I'm leaving out, but these are the main issues that lead to the gulf that develops between them during the course of Chimera Ant Arc.

Ever after all of this, they're still friends, they're on reasonably good terms when they part even though it's complex and fraught, but there's just so much they're not saying to each other about how they really feel.

I think Killua still knows Gon cares about him with the way they leave off--they agree to stay in touch, say they'll meet again, Killua even teases Gon about the way he treated him a few times and sees that Gon feels awful when he brings it up. I'm sure Gon apologized to Killua when they first saw each other again after all of that, no matter how non-comprehensive that apology may have been.

But, I do think Killua sees his feelings towards Gon as deeper and of a different nature than how he assumes Gon feels towards him. He may even feel a degree of guilt about the extent and nature of his feelings, with an assumption that, as much as Gon cares about him, Gon doesn't reciprocate Killua's romantic feelings. It may be one of many puzzle pieces contributing to the separation.

I think Killua has strong beliefs about Gon not returning his feelings in a romantic sense, which is part of what leads to how much pain he goes through in Chimera Ant Arc and beyond. But these beliefs are less about what Gon does or doesn't do--because *I* believe Gon has romantic feelings for Killua, even though he likely doesn't recognize them as such yet, and obviously in CAA his relationship with Killua is not at the forefront of his mind--but more about how Killua sees himself and how he projects that self-perception on Gon.

The thing is, Killua hasn't directly expressed his feelings (even on a friendship level) towards Gon either. and even hides how much he does for Gon, so Gon also doesn't fully understand the weight and degree of Killua's feelings for him either. He sees what Killua does for him and I'm sure he knows that's a way Killua expresses friendship to him, but at the same time, the reasons or feelings or depth behind those actions remain unspoken, so how is Gon supposed to know fully where Killua is coming from?

As much as he may have some inklings of Killua's feelings from reading his body language and all the time they spent together, it's not something that has been confirmed or stated the way Gon has expressed his feelings. So, it makes sense that these two boys might assume the other doesn't love them back the same way they love each other, because their own self-esteem is so low and they don't see themselves as deserving of the kind of love they have for each other.

So, in response to your question, both yes and no, and "It's complicated," too.

[ceo-of-sloppy-women]

No grave can hold my body down; I'll crawl home to her

chapter 7

Read it on AO3

Chapter 8

Sevika drags you out of bed far earlier than you appreciate. Once she’s certain you’re not going to fall asleep standing up, Sevika thrusts breakfast in your hands and drags you outside in pursuit of a local coffee stand. She has made (slightly burnt) scrambled eggs and toast, which you eat on your way to her bees as the sun yawns awake on the horizon. Once at the coffee stand, she buys herself two coffees – why on Earth she needed two was beyond you – and buys you the beverage you pick out (at her insistence). She is not persuaded by your argument that she shouldn’t waste her money on you. After all three drinks were finished being made, Sevika kept walking, trying to avoid the hustle and bustle of the early morning crowd waking up for patrols and important jobs.

Unlike yourself, Sevika is wide awake, fully dressed and walking as if she’s been awake for hours. You trudge behind her, rubbing your eyes and yawning, doing your best to keep up with her as the two of you reach the town’s perimeter fence. The guards let you pass through after checking you were armed, and you stumble out into the open valley. After spending the last few days enclosed by reassuring metal walls, the endless expanse of nature is almost daunting. You stop for a moment, gazing out across the rolling hills that meld into mountains on all sides. Scattered throughout the valley are several farms and ranches – they take up far more land than is available in the settlement, and the open fields of the mountains allow them to expand as far as they’d like. You can see goats, cattle, sheep and pigs scattered throughout the fields, along with various crops, mainly corn, wheat, carrots and potatoes. Though, none have human dwellings on them – all members of Zaun sleep inside the fence, safe from the infected.

“Come on, this way,” Sevika grunts, taking your hand and steering you off to the left.

“It’s very pretty out here – I didn’t expect there to be so much,” you comment as you follow after her, slowly intertwining your fingers with hers. She doesn’t pull away, but she does hesitate for a moment before relaxing her hand.

“Need it all, have to support everyone somehow. You’d be surprised how many cows you need for milk. Especially when almost half the population runs off of coffee grown in a jerry-rigged greenhouse,” Sevika says, her head on a swivel for any infected.

“Is the milk… pasteurized?” you ask tentatively. Drinking raw milk had been resurging before the world ended, and you are well aware of the many reasons it should be pasteurized. Pasteurization is an important process that removes deadly bacteria from the milk as the udders are rather close to the cow’s waste excrement orifices. You were not about to survive the apocalypse only to die to bird flu (or worse).

“Yeah,” Sevika grunts. She doesn’t elaborate more for a beat, as if expecting you to be well versed in the subject already. As if she’s already grown so used to having you in Zaun that she doesn’t give a second thought to the fact you have only been here for a few days. After a beat, she coughs slightly and continues: “We found this, er, councillor for Piltover trapped in the wastes a few years back, and we were about to leave him there until Jayce and Mel intervened. Apparently, he knew a lot about food safety, so he’s become our official food health and safety inspector. He helped us set up pasteurization equipment, as well as various animal diets. You’d never guess it from looking at the guy – a skinny little blond thing that could be carried off by an ant.”

“Sevika, I know you are aware I can hear you,” someone huffs from up ahead. You startle, gaze jumping from Sevika to a young man in a wheelchair holding a clipboard as he scrutinizes a cow pasture. Next to him stands a broad man holding a rifle with an exasperated look on his face. You know him: Jayce, he was with Sevika’s group.

“So what? You going to write a false report about my honey and get the only sweetener in this town banned? I know you like your coffee too much for that,” Sevika huffs, rolling her eyes as she passes one of the coffee cups to him. The man grins and takes a hearty swig despite the coffee still being too hot for even you to drink. Oh. That’s why she needed two (you thought she was just going to drink them both).

“It seems my hands are tied,” he giggles, scrutinizing you for a moment with a furrowed brow. “And who is this young lady with you, Sevika? Finally managed to scavenge someone from the wastes willing to put up with your boar-like nature?”

“You damn well know I don’t go out there to –“

You cut Sevika off by introducing yourself, holding out your hand for him to shake it. You did not need her to cause a fight this early in the morning.

“Ah, so you’re the one Silco and Vander mentioned – a pleasure to meet you! My name is Salo; please let me know if you have any further questions about food safety. I would be more than willing to exchange notes,” Salo says, shaking your hand firmly before letting it go.

“I probably don’t know as much as you do, but I appreciate the offer. Thank you. Knowing the milk is pasteurized puts me at ease,” you say politely as Sevika grabs your wrist.

“Yeah, yeah, come on; we’ve got some bees to tend to. You can rub elbows with Salo later; he’s always around doing not much of anything,” Sevika grumbles, trying to pull you away.

“One second, I have a question!” you protest. Sevika relents with a frustrated sigh, putting her hand on her hip as she waits. You turn to Jayce, who has been quietly petting a curious cow. “Jayce, I believe Sevika mentioned you have a forge?”

“That’s right!” Jayce confirms, turning to face you with a carefully practiced professional smile. The cow butts her head against his shoulder in protest.

“I’ve got a few bottles from the wastes that aren’t doing me any good sitting around. Is there a good time to swing by and get those to you?” It’s not entirely a lie – you do have a few from your wandering days that could be in better hands. Mainly, you want to give him all the empty bottles cluttering Sevika’s kitchen.

“Any time between ten in the morning and eight at night works. Except on Mondays – the forge is closed as I have a patrol route then,” Jayce informs you, giving the cow a good scritch behind the ear.

“And we inspect the food on Mondays!” Salo interjects, hastily swallowing a mouthful of coffee to do so.

“That too,” Jayce assents.

“I’ll swing by the forge when I get a chance then. Thank you,” you chirp, finally allowing Sevika to guide you away.

She does so immediately, all but carrying you off as she trudges through the tall grass toward the bee colonies. They’re not too far away from where you’d stopped – just out of earshot from Jayce and Salo. Each little hutch is painted a different colour from the others, in a variety of different saturations and luminosities. If you had to guess, you might think Jinx had a hand in painting them (the little smiley faces are a dead giveaway).

You reach for the fence, and Sevika quickly snatches your hand away.

“Gear first! Do you want to get stung?” she barks, glaring at you.

“Geez, sorry,” you shy away, pulling your hand back sharply.

A look as if she’s been struck flashes across her face for a brief moment before she shies away, taking a step back. Your heart crumbles as she bows her head like a puppy that’s been kicked off the couch one too many times.

“Shit – sorry. It’s just…”

“Don’t worry about it, Sev’ –” You squeeze her shoulder gently to reassure her.

She offers you a fake smile to try and look tough, but you can see the hurt bleeding into it. “No, it’s not – you can’t just brush it off,” she huffs, carding a hand through her hair. “The world is shit enough as it is. You don’t deserve me barking at you on top of it all.”

“Sevika, it’s the apocalypse. I’d rather you stop me from doing something stupid or dangerous than clam up and let me, especially when we’re outside of Zaun. You’re keeping me safe – how can I be mad at that?”

“Sorry,” she apologizes again, her shoulders hunching forward. “I just don’t want to hurt you or drive you away. Vander always tells me I’m too hot-headed, so I’ve been trying to be nicer...”

“You’re not going to drive me away by being yourself. Or by looking out for me. Frankly, you’re stuck with me. You’ve given me free room, food, a comfortable bed, and a hot shower – plus, I don’t have to constantly worry about dying every day. I mean fuck, I can actually feel safe knowing that you’re around. I haven’t felt safe in a very long time,” you reassure her, leaning up to kiss her on the cheek as you finish. “Now, show me where the bee gear is.”

Sevika stares at you blankly for so long that you think you broke her. If human brains could fry, you’re dead certain smoke would be pouring out of her ears right now. When she finally realizes she’s just staring at you, she blinks back into reality, mumbles out something that sounds vaguely like “follow me,” and trudges off to a nearby shed. You follow after her politely, feeling just a tad bit powerful after having caused her brain to error hard enough to shut her up.

The shed is small, with barely enough space for her to step inside and get out two suits. You wait outside, taking the gear she thrusts into your hands and pulling it on carefully, not wanting to get the mud on your boots on the inside of the pants. Your patrol gear is set off to the side for later (with the exception of your pistol). Once both of you are fully dressed, you hold your breath to not snicker at how dorky the two of you look. The mesh netting is absolutely not working for Sevika! Luckily, Sevika doesn’t notice how dangerously close to giggling you are (or, if she does, she refrains from drawing attention to it). Instead, she trudges back over to the fence and holds it open for you. You slip into the small, carefully guarded area where bees are quietly buzzing, coming and going from human-made hives. Following them, you slowly approach the hives and stop a few feet back, observing them as closely as you do the crunch of grass approaching you.

Sevika places her hand on the small of your back. The warmth of her hand radiates against your body, even with all of your gear in the way. You lean into it, smiling softly as you watch the bees. A few of them fly over to investigate you, landing on your outstretched fingers and assessing the danger before flying off.

“These little ladies saved our asses when we ran out of sugar a few years back,” Sevika says, breaking the silence gently.

“Hard workers,” you hum, giggling as one lands on Sevika’s mesh netting. Right in front of her eyes. “Looks like they want to say hello – maybe it’s to demand more flowers, Sev’.”

Sevika chuckles, blowing gently so the bee takes off and flies away. Her fingers scrunch in a little against your back as you render her nervous. Tentatively, she turns to you and asks: “You keep, er, calling me that. Why?”

“It’s just a nickname… do you not like it?” you backpedal quickly, scanning her face for any sign of discontent.

“No! No, no, I like it. It’s well… no one’s given me a nickname before –“ she scratches the back of her neck awkwardly – “It feels odd.”

“Good odd or bad odd?” you probe, trying to squash your swelling heart at her earnest honesty.

“Good odd!” she says quickly, clamping her mouth shut just as fast. She coughs and straightens up a little. “Pretty lady like yourself can call me anything you wish. Only wanted to make sure you weren’t insulting me – Jinx likes to mock me with names when she’s in a bad headspace.”

Your heart swoons before you can stop it. Now is absolutely not the time – you just met the woman, you can’t possibly fall in love so fast! Yet, it feels as if she’s the missing part of your soul, and now that you’ve found her, your soul sobs for its final piece.

“Well, I can promise I’m not doing it to make fun of you, Sevika. I just like how your name feels on my tongue,” you assure her, gently blowing a bee off of her shoulder.

Sevika gulps imperceptively, glancing at the rising sun: “We should head back now. Grayson will want to assign us a patrol route, and we ought to find you a horse. You can’t ride on the back of Duchess for this one.”

“Okay, let me say goodbye to the bees first,” you chirp, turning to the bees before she can stop you. “Goodbye, ladies, keep up the good work! If we’re lucky, Sevika will let me come back and help with a harvest soon!”

Sevika mumbles something to herself far too quietly for you to hear. When you turn back around and catch a glimpse of her face, it’s bright red, and her eyes are sparkling as she watches you with an intensity that rivals the sun. Even through the mesh of the beekeeper’s hood.

“Ready now, sweet thing?”

“Yup! Let’s go see Grayson!”

The bee gear is stashed in the shed once more, and you collect your patrol gear, readjusting your backpack straps. Sevika is quiet the whole way back, steering you through the blissfully empty streets toward the horse stables. You revel in the feeling of her hand on your lower back, keeping you safe and close to her side. Your heart hammers in your chest at her quiet, gentle way of taking care of you despite her prickly and blunt demeanour. As if she softens just as much as you when the two of you are together. The stables come into view far faster when the streets aren’t busy – standing proud and tall amongst the old buildings. You can hear various horses and their riders heading out for the day or being led in to rest for the night. A loud yawn draws your attention to Vi as she heads back into town for the night with Caitlyn. Both of them look absolutely exhausted – as if they’ve been out on patrol all night. Vi is barely able to keep herself from passing out in the street, and Caitlyn is leaning heavily on her shoulder.

“Run into any trouble?” Sevika asks as they pass by.

“Nah, it’s all clear up north – for today, at least. Uneventful and peaceful. Saw a few deer, rabbit or two, lots of squirrels,” Vi shrugs, kissing Caitlyn on the forehead. “You two heading out?”

“About to – got to talk to Grayson first,” Sevika grunts, flicking her gaze to Caitlyn. “You should take her home, or your cupcake’s gonna wind up smudged with dirt.”

“And you should take yours out – get some dirt on her. Just try not to run into a horde like yesterday. Don’t need to spook her on her first patrol,” Vi says, bending down and scooping Caitlyn into her arms. She walks off, tossing a “Have fun!” over her shoulder.

“Wait – horde?” you squeak, glancing nervously at Sevika. You frantically scan her for any injuries you have yet to notice.

“Relax, we can handle a horde out here. They’re smaller and weaker – not a lot of people lived in these mountains during the old world,” Sevika grunts, continuing on to the stables. “Vi just wants to scare you so we don’t get caught off-guard today… we got a little too sloppy yesterday – the horde showed up in the middle of our chat. We didn’t realize until they were on top of us.”

“… that explains why you were so upset when you found me at Grayson’s shop,” you breathe, a sad smile warping your face into sympathy.

“What do you mean by that?” Sevika questions gruffly, hardening her gaze at you.

“You were all worked up by the horde – when I wasn’t there, you must have thought I was in danger due to the excess adrenaline built up in your system. You could have just told me, you know? The whole silent treatment fiasco was unnecessary,” you huff, knocking her shoulder with a light shove.

Sevika stumbles a bit and huffs, scuffing her boots in the mud. “How are you so damn perceptive? Just – fuck, yes, okay, I was worried!” She spins around, cupping your cheek with her hand, tilting your head up and forcing you to meet her gaze. “We live during the actual apocalypse! When you run off like that, of course, I’m going to worry. So, keep yourself safe on this patrol today, okay? If I say run, you run. No arguing.”

“Sev’, you have to trust me. I’ve survived this long; I can hold my own against the infected. I’m not stupid either; if it’s a cocked situation, I’ll run, but I’m not leaving you behind,” you argue, firmly holding her gaze. You try not to think about her hand on your face, nor the way you subconsciously lean into it.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good,” she grouses, conceding.

“It’s my worst quality,” you hum, lifting your hand to squeeze her wrist gently in reassurance. “Now, should we get a move on?”

Sevika grunts, dropping her hand. This time, she keeps walking to the stables and doesn’t stop until the two of you are through the door. Stalls run parallel to each other, comfortably housing many horses with fresh bedding, water and feed. Their tack hangs on nearby walls at the far end of the bar. Duchess snorts as Sevika steps inside, growing restless in her stall – eager to stretch her legs. Almost immediately, Grayson spots you and hurries over. You swoon a little at her outfit – a straining blue plaid shirt that’s rolled up to her elbows, covering an old grey t-shirt that peeks out under a few undone buttons. Blue jeans frame her figure, tucked into cowboy boots, with a pistol on her hip and a lasso, too. There’s a tan folder tucked under her arm.

“Good to see that your dutiful attitude is rubbing off on our newest, Sevika. I expected you to at least be a little delayed today on account of the new, warm bed,” Grayson says, pulling the folder out from under her arm. “I’m assigning you to the Western patrol route. It has been fairly quiet for the last few days, so expect trouble. Silco wants the area fully scouted and cleared out for a new construction project. Be mindful of the old weather station – we still haven’t found anyone to clear it out since its discovery last year.”

“Got it,” Sevika grunts, taking the paper from her. You can see some old photocopy on the back – this is scrap paper. “Only need one thing before we can head out: a horse for our newest lady here.”

Grayson regards you for a moment with a furrowed brow. You squirm under her gaze, puffing out your chest and standing taller in order to look presentable – not quite sure what she’s assessing. After a tense moment, Grayson nods her head in satisfaction. “If you will humour an old woman, I have the perfect horse in mind.”

“By all means, lead the way,” you giggle nervously.

Grayson leads you through the stables and toward the back. You fold your hands behind your back, glancing in at every horse. Most of them are unbothered by your presence – a few of them snort at you or stick their heads out to see what you’re up to. Grayson stops at the third stall from the end, planting her hands on her hips and grinning at her own genius.

“This here is a morgan. She has refused to take a rider for the past few weeks – ever since Violet cleared her for one. Ever since she was a filly, she has been gentle, kind and intelligent. Show her no fear, and we’ll get our answer,” Grayson instructs you, gesturing for you to approach the stall.

Sevika leans on a post nearby, watching you with idle interest.

You take a deep breath and step forward, approaching the stall. Almost instantly, the head of a grey, speckled morgan whips out of the stall and stares you down. You freeze in place, willing yourself not to show her fear as you hold up your hand. She scrutinizes it for a long moment – until you’re worried if you should be afraid of her – and then butts her head against your palm. You laugh nervously, scratching her snout and raking your fingers through her white mane. She huffs and nuzzles your arm, searching for any treats. Behind you, Grayson chuckles heartily and pats your shoulder.

“Good girl – see? No reason to be afraid of these gentle giants. And every reason to trust my instincts,” she jokes, pulling a treat out of her satchel and giving the morgan a beet. “She doesn’t have a name yet, so that will be up to you – we let our riders choose their horse’s name as it builds a stronger bond. But she does come with tack. I’ll help you get her ready while Sevika handles Duchess – you two can learn to trust each other out on the trails.”

“Thank you, this is very generous,” you say, still scratching your horse’s face gently.

“It’s my job. I cannot send you out ill-prepared and on foot. Besides, everyone gets a horse around here; you never know when you will need one. Vander has a habit of sending people out on salvage patrols on a whim,” Grayson reassures you, giving you a few horse treats for later. “Now, let’s get you tacked up.”

[odditycircus-2002]

A moment between Mother and Daughter

Random Scenario that came to mind based on those asks with Scorpion marrying a reader insert who is Quan-chi’s daughter, and then had a daughter with. And this clip:

*D/N: Daughter’s Name

Since you gave birth to your daughter, Hanzo wanted to keep her safe. So safe in fact, that your husband has explicitly banned D/N from leaving the walls of the compound, going so far as to instruct every guard he keeps stationed around the walls the same thing. This was not an issue when D/N was still a baby since the compound may as well have been the entire world as far as she knew. Yet, as she grew older, D/N became more aware of a world outside of her home and, like all children, found the idea of something they can’t have irresistible. But Hanzo denied his daughter's initial request to travel outside the compound, not wanting to risk his only living child's safety.

Similarly, you are wary of outside forces harming your daughter and want to keep her safe just as much as Hanzo does. However, you didn’t wish D/N to feel trapped within the compound’s walls and ignorant of the outside world. While you didn't like to go behind your husband's back, when D/N was five, and Hanzo felt more comfortable being gone for extended periods, you took it upon yourself to be your daughter's guide to the world outside.

Firstly, you swore your daughter to secrecy for this little trip, saying it'll be something just between you both. You then convinced the more sympathetic guards to let you and D/N slip past you, assuring them that you would travel quickly and are prepared for your small excursion. When you and D/N took your first steps outside the compound, your daughter was understandably cautious in stepping foot in new territory. That caution is thrown to the wind as D/N adjusts to the new sights and sensations, likely to run off if you weren't holding her hand the whole time.

Being her mother's daughter, D/N had a lot of questions about everything she saw, her curiosity boundless. Unlike Quan-chi, you didn't discourage these inquiries and did your best to answer everything your daughter had to ask. You explained to her how the bees collect nectar to make honey, why the small animals stored food, the mountains you lived on, the village far off in the distance, and why the Shirai Ryu had to stay hidden. You and D/N stumble across her father's namesake at some point, even pointing out as much. The scorpion was engaged in a life-and-death battle with a colony of ants determined to protect their home.

After briefly watching the scorpion fighting against the seemingly endless waves of ants, your daughter asked,

"Mama? Why is the scorpion fighting when there are more ants than it?"

You kneeled beside your daughter as you watched one of the many battles in nature.

"The scorpion you see is much like your father. They are both strong and swift, true. But do you know why the scorpion is feared?"

When D/N shakes her head, you give a patient smile.

"It's will."

The scorpion gives one final mighty swipe against the anthill, finally giving it the opening it needs to escape. You then place a gentle hand on D/N's back as the rest of the ant colony gives chase.

"Life is cruel, D/N. It cares not for where you hail from nor creed. Yet, that doesn't mean you have to be vicious as well. It's willpower that makes your life your own."

You use a bit of your magic to move some rocks to block half of the ant colony from further pursuing the scorpion. You then turn to face your daughter.

"Promise me, that you'll remember that cruelty is not always the answer."

D/N nods earnestly.

"I promise, mama."

You brush back a strand of your daughter's hair before standing up straight. You then glance towards the sun to see it dipping down, causing the shadows to lengthen.

"We better be heading home, we don't want your father to wander where we are. And remember,"

"Not to tell him where we've been."

D/N dutifully finishes. You nod, satisfied, before you take D/N's hand in yours and begin your trek home. You both then make your way back to the compound. Midway through your walk, you stop mid-step as your sensitive ears pick up the sound of leaves shuffling and light steps. Noticing your hesitation, D/N speaks up, her voice groggy, as she rests in your arms, exhausted from walking all day.

"Are we there yet, mama?"

"Not yet; I just wanted to stop and appreciate those orchids, as they've bloomed a bit too early. Can you see them?"

D/N scans the forest in front of her, spotting none of the flowers you spoke of.

"Where?"

"They're there, just keep looking."

You kept your tone light and nonchalant as you finally saw what you'd been hearing. Blending into the treeline is a mountain lion crouched against the ground, its haunches tense and its amber eyes fixated on you both. You frown deeply at the large feline, meeting its gaze unflinchingly as you tighten your hold on D/N ever so slightly, reminding you how tiny she is.

With a flash of hellfire from four eyes, a show of fangs, and a screech so high-pitched that D/N wouldn't be able to pick it up, the mountain lion immediately turned tail and scrambled off into its territory. The sound catches D/N's attention, who couldn't find any of the orchids you mentioned seeing.

"What was that, mama?"

"Just a wild animal passing through; we best be going as not to disturb them. It's their home, after all."

D/N accepted the answer, and you two could return to the compound without further incident. You replied when your husband later embraced you and asked how your day was.

"Nothing much happened."

Playlist while writing this:

"More Than Anything" from Hazbin Hotel

"You Will Be Okay" by Sam Haft

"Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" ver by Dead Space

[sillygoblinantics]

Back to my regularly scheduled Lily tearing

*ahem*

“Jock Imoen”

My good mutual @agramuglia covered everything up to Gen 8 in his multi-stream and comprehensive compilation/analysis of Lily orchards over six hour cognitive hazardous brain vomit barely digested review of the main line games of the Pokémon franchise.

And of course, she got many things wrong, so when ant stopped after gen 8 I took it upon myself to finish it for ant and my arceus did I suffer for lilys pokesins.

And let’s get this out of the way:

No she didn’t play arceus because she couldn’t handle the amount of control changes and lore that went into that beautiful (imo) game.

No she didn’t play the dlcs. And frankly I’m glad she didn’t because we all know she’d make the sibling story of Kieran and Carmine weird (and perverted) but she’d misinterpret the entire arc he goes through in all three dlcs)

So how fucking wrong did Lily get with scarlet and violet?

Everything

Points to get out of the way before my reason of pain:

She continues to imply that pennie is a stalker, saying she’s the worst person who shouldn’t be redeemed and that team star terrible. Yes the bullied outsiders who formed a group to stand up to the bullies and later try to breakup only to meet up and assure Pennie that they love her and remind her that they’ll be friends even if the team splits up. In the dlc they’re even working to better themselves for Pennie trying to surprise her even. And yes Lily PROJECTS SO MUCH ONTO PENNIE!

Misgenders grusha (the beautiful snowboarder champ now depressed and detached gym leader who you learn more about the intropersonal conflict of in the dlc!)

No she doesn’t take the classes (doesn’t understand there’s more to the game or)

… continuing from the previous point: SHE DOESNT KNOW ABOUT THE RUINOUS POKÉMON NEVER MENTIONS THEM ONCE

She leaves out the fact Nemona teaches the players about terastalization before you even get to the academy!

She disrespects the entire story line and arc of our boy Arven nor does she fucking cry over the mabostiff arc

Never explains how she got ceruledge. At all

Complains and uses spiderverse as a way to talk about crunch time (LILY I SWEAR TO FUCKING MEW IF TALK ABOUT THE INDUSTRY ANY MORE I WILL REVOKE YOUR INTERNET ACCESS)

She brings up kingdom hearts

11. Never addresses the music or even gen one references

12. (Yes that’s a loss joke)

Now that we got those out of the way, allow me to rant:

OUT OF THE PAST 9 GENS, THE CAST OF FRIENDS IN SCARLET AND VIOLET HAVE THE MOST DEPTH AND PERSONALITY! THEY HAVE SO MANY SIDES THAT UNFOLD AS YOU FOLLOW(KEY WORD BEING FOLLOW) THEIR STORYLINES!

Lily you continue to prove your mental decline and intolerance to human traits and habits and devolve into a fucking ameba! Nemona from the start is not a jock. She is a himbo, she is the current/new student council president of the academy, she’s the champion and she is an only child of absent parents in a big *empty* home, her parents are running around who knows where and she most definitely has undiagnosed adhd or add, she has trouble with socializing because of her confident and pure genuine enthusiasm. She had trouble catching her own pokemon and even throwing which is why she wears that glove so she mostly rents out pokemon from the academy. When your character moves in she’s hoping to not just have a friend, but someone to rival her in battle, because she’s beat the league and everyone is afraid in some way of her because of how forward and high energy she is. The REASON SHE’S SO “CLINGY” IS BECAUSE FOR THE FIRST TIME SHE HAS SOMEONE WHO ISNT AFRAID OF HER REQUEST TO BATTLE! She’s mindful and has had to realize that which is sad if you’re a kid who is as high energy and has trouble waiting to speak. (A bit personal on my end but thats the read) NEMONA IS NOT YOUR JOCK SISTER GIRLFRIEND YOU INEPT PERVERTED CANADIAN FUCKWAD!

LILY LEAVE MY MASTER CHEF SON AND HIS PUBBI DOG ALONE BEFORE I GET THE SANDAL AND BEAT YOUR PASTY WHITER THAN MILK ASS UNTIL YOU SUBMIT AND APOLOGIZE! Arven, is a boy who lives in the shadow of his absent parents who were renowned scientists, he wasn’t given the attention he needed at some point when they got busy with research but after having to leave area zero due to a grievous injury/trauma his truly only family member received he was cooped up in the lighthouse he once lived in with his parents. Arven holds so much resentment to his parents because he (validly) feels abandoned by them as they pushed him aside. Hell, he even shows a grudge and envy to our player when he learns his parent is talking to us in secret! The most painful thing we learn by the end is, arven’s mom and dad… died… they had been dead for quite some time and sadly only synthetic programmed copies of them survived but then they have to leave… arven’s story is him learning that he isnt in his parent’s shadow and realizing he doesn’t have to be alone. The friends made are his family- oh before i forget- THERE IS MORE LORE IN THE FUCKING CLASSES! THE HOME EC TEACHER WORRIES ABOUT ARVEN AND HAS A STORY LINE WITH HIM IF YOU TOOK THE TIME TO STUDY! Arven is a sad grumpy puppy, leave him alone you cynical mustache twirling puppy stomping carbon copy villain stereotype!

LEAVE MY VEE-VEE LOVING INTROVERT ALONE YOU NTH ROOM BROWSING TROGLODYTE! Penny out of the two others has present parents, her dad, who is revealed to be peonie in the dlc, is just loves and cares about her but pennie is going through that phase where “ugh my parents are so annoying with how much they care” type personality. Kids like that exist. Penny is also a vastly intellectually gifted kid, she’s able to do so much with computers and coding and hell she used technology to make friends. She and team star are adorable. They were all bullied and penny thinking quickly hatched a plan to gather them together but when things got out of hand she panicked and thought to run from it. When you meet she takes note of how you respond to her “peril” and thinks of a way to get your help. She thinks that her friends hate her or dont hold her in high regard until you defeat each of them and get the full story. Hell I’ll grab a clip i saved! But she learns to come out of her shell during the main plot and that staying in her head she’ll shut the world and truth out. She’s also such a fucking mood!

Also lily, you hate her because she’s better than you are you eternal hermit!

As you can see I adore this game and while I have my qualms with it I still love it and the story because that’s what I care about and appreciate in this and previous games and with what I wanted said out of the way: that’s