#active fresh 300

[julietsf1]

Overtaking Your Expectations - Oscar Piastri x Reader

summary: your biggest mistake this weekend? underestimating Oscar Piastri. now, he’s making sure you know it (3k words)

content: fluff, introvert warming up, lando's friend x oscar

AN: china did not go easy on my heart lol *cries in ferrari* glad mclaren did well though I really like oscar so glad the team just lets him win when he is p1! hope you all have a lovely day darlings <3

.......................................................................

Race weekends have a rhythm. The steady hum of engines, the flurry of activity in the paddock, the undercurrent of competition that pulses through every conversation, every movement. You’ve been to a fair few of them by now—tagging along with Lando, watching from the sidelines, soaking it all in.

But this weekend? Shanghai feels bigger.

Maybe it’s the packed paddock, maybe it’s the humidity that clings to your skin like an overenthusiastic handshake, or maybe it’s just the sheer weight of the stakes, the speed, the inevitability of something dramatic happening.

You’re standing in the McLaren garage, taking it all in—the organized chaos of race preparations, the smell of fresh rubber, the sound of mechanics running through last-minute checks—when a voice cuts through the noise.

Calm. Dry. Just slightly amused.

“You don’t work here, do you?”

You turn your head.

Oscar Piastri is standing a few feet away, arms crossed, an easy but intent look in his eyes, like he’s trying to place you. He’s still in his McLaren team kit, hair slightly mussed like he’s just pulled off a helmet. He looks precisely as composed as someone who drives at 300 km/h for a living—annoyingly so.

Your lips twitch. “That depends. If I say yes, do I get paid?”

There’s a pause—not because he’s actually considering it, but because he’s amused that you even said it.

His mouth quirks. “Not sure. But you’d probably get a uniform.”

You pretend to think. “Tempting. I’d look good in papaya.”

Now, he actually smiles. Small, but real. A fraction of a second too long.

“Right. So, you must be Lando’s friend.”

You tilt your head. “What gave it away?”

“The way you’re standing here like you own the place, enough mischief in your eyes to make me wonder if I should be keeping an eye on the spare parts.”

You snort. “Wow. So observant.”

He shrugs. “It’s a skill.”

Before you can respond, there’s movement near the front of the garage—Lando’s voice filtering through the commotion as he chats with his engineers. You feel his presence before you see him, the energy in the garage shifting slightly as he approaches.

Oscar notices too, glancing toward the noise before looking back at you.

“Well,” he says, stepping slightly aside, like he’s about to say more but thinks better of it, “guess I’ll let you get back to… whatever it is you’re doing.”

And just like that, he’s gone—moving effortlessly back toward the garage setup, disappearing into the organized chaos.

And you, despite yourself, find your eyes lingering just a little longer than necessary.

…

You weave through the McLaren motorhome, trying your best to look like you know exactly where you’re going. The problem is—you don’t. At all.

Every hallway looks indistinguishably sleek and corporate, every door marked with something unhelpfully vague like “Operations” or “Strategy.” You briefly consider making a bold, confident turn into one of them, but there’s always the looming risk of accidentally wandering into a pre-race briefing and getting thrown out like a lost intern.

That’s how you find yourself here—somewhere in the depths of McLaren HQ, clutching your coffee like a lifeline, when a familiar voice cuts through the hum of paddock noise.

“You’re back.”

It’s not a question. It’s an observation, one that comes with the dry, knowing tone of someone who expected to see you eventually.

You glance up. Oscar Piastri.

He’s standing just a step away, hands tucked into the pockets of his McLaren-issued hoodie, his expression as effortlessly unreadable as ever—except for the telltale glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Was I not supposed to be?” you ask, arching a brow.

Oscar tilts his head slightly. “Just an observation.”

You hum, taking a slow sip of your coffee, partially to hide the fact that he’s somehow already gotten under your skin. “Should I be flattered you noticed?”

Oscar doesn’t answer immediately. He just watches you, like he’s weighing his options—play along or push back?

Then, finally, he smirks.

“Well, I do have to keep track of Lando’s distractions.”

You scoff, nearly choking on your coffee. “Wow. Bold of you to assume I’m a distraction.”

His lips twitch, eyes flicking down to your McLaren pass dangling from your lanyard. “Aren’t you?”

You roll your eyes, exhaling sharply. “Shut up.”

Oscar lets out a low chuckle, tilting his head slightly. “So… where exactly are you wandering off to?” His tone is casual, but there’s a flicker of amusement beneath it, like he already knows the answer.

You hesitate. “Nowhere in particular.”

His brows lift, clearly unconvinced. “Right. Just happened to end up here, directly in front of my driver’s room?”

You scoff. “That’s a stretch.”

Oscar hums, hands still casually tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. “Not that I’m complaining, obviously.”

You open your mouth to fire back a response, but instead, he takes a small step forward, nodding his head down the hall. “Come on.”

You blink. “What?”

His lips twitch again, barely hiding a smirk. “You were trying to find the break room, weren’t you?”

You pause. Okay, maybe you were.

Oscar takes your non-answer as confirmation, already turning slightly. “Figured. I’ll walk you.”

For some reason, you don’t argue.

You fall into step beside him, the two of you weaving through the sleek McLaren hallways, his pace unrushed, too at ease for someone who should probably be doing something more important.

A few team members pass, some sparing a curious glance, some not bothering at all—because to anyone else, it probably just looks like a normal conversation. But there’s something oddly settled about the way he walks beside you, like this isn’t the first time, like it’s just easy.

The lunchroom comes into view, and Oscar gestures toward an empty table near the back.

“Sit,” he says simply, sliding into the chair across from you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You narrow your eyes, but follow anyway. “What, you’re babysitting me now?”

Oscar shrugs, leaning back in his chair, expression perfectly neutral. “I don’t know. Maybe I just enjoy the company.”

And annoyingly, you don’t hate the way that sounds.

Before you can respond, a new voice drifts in from just over your shoulder.

“Oi, stop corrupting my guests.”

Lando.

You barely have time to turn before he’s already breezing past, casually throwing an arm over the back of your chair—not fully joining the conversation, but just present enough to remind Oscar exactly where your loyalties lie.

Oscar doesn’t seem remotely fazed. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says smoothly, though the glint of amusement in his eyes tells a different story.

Lando exhales dramatically, as if this is truly the greatest burden of his existence, shaking his head as he scrolls through his phone. “Good. Because I need her focused on manifesting my race win.”

At this, Oscar finally looks back at you. “Oh, is that what you’re doing?”

You shrug, sipping your coffee again. “Of course. I’m a supportive friend.”

“Right.” His lips curve just slightly. “And definitely not underestimating me in the process.”

You hold his gaze. “I don’t underestimate. I just bet smart. Only one number one driver in the team.”

There’s a small beat of silence, the words hanging just long enough to feel like a challenge.

Then, Oscar exhales a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Interesting take.”

Lando, half-listening, barely invested, lets out a small, distracted hum. "See? She knows what she's talking about." He then grins, teasing, "Just don't pull a 'Multi 21' on me please, Osc." He pats your shoulder and wanders off without another word—his attention clearly already pulled elsewhere.​

You watch him go before turning back to Oscar, who’s still standing there, his expression unreadable.

“What?” you ask.

He shakes his head slightly, as if highly amused by something he’s not saying out loud. “Nothing. Just wondering how confident you really are in that bet.”

You narrow your eyes. “Oh, I’m very confident.”

Oscar hums again, but it’s less a hum and more of a quiet, knowing sound. The kind that lingers.

“Guess we’ll find out.”

And when he finally moves to leave, he does so with an air of quiet certainty.

As if he already knows something you don’t.

��

Race day. The Shanghai International Circuit is buzzing with energy—mechanics darting between garages, engineers murmuring into radios, and cameras following drivers as they make their rounds. The entire paddock feels like it's holding its breath, the anticipation thick in the air.

You're perched in the McLaren hospitality lounge, scrolling through your phone, the last moments of calm before the chaos begins. Absentmindedly, you post a pic from the garage yesterday on your story, captioned:

"Let’s go, Lando! Bring it home"

The moment you hit send, a shadow falls over your table.

"Wow." The voice is dry, unimpressed, and far too familiar. "Brutal."

You glance up. Oscar.

He's standing there, arms crossed, expression perfectly neutral—except for the unmistakable glint of amusement in his eyes.

"Brutal?" you echo, arching a brow.

He nods toward your phone. "Publicly backing the wrong papaya boy. Tough to see."

You snort, locking your screen. "Oh, come on. Surely, you’re used to it by now."

Oscar exhales, tilting his head slightly like you've personally wounded him. "Wow. Just twisting the knife, are we?"

You grin, tilting your head right back at him. "I don't know. You seem like you can take it."

His lips quirk. "I can. But that doesn't mean I have to suffer in silence."

"Ah, so what you're saying is," you muse, tapping your fingers against the table, "you're here to guilt-trip me?"

Oscar sinks into the chair opposite you, completely uninvited, and shrugs with infuriating ease. "I just think it’s fascinating."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," he continues, eyes flickering with mock disappointment. "I mean, I get it. You’re Lando’s guest. You feel obligated. But deep down? I think you know you’re backing the wrong McLaren driver today."

You scoff, folding your arms. "That’s a bold assumption."

"What?" His grin is almost lazy now. "Just saying, if I were you, I’d want to be on the winning side."

You gasp, dramatically. "Wow. So not only do you expect me to abandon my loyalty to my dear friend, but now you're calling me a bandwagon fan?"

He lifts a brow. "Wouldn't be the first time people switched sides after a race."

You shake your head, trying not to laugh. "You are so smug right now."

"Confident," he corrects smoothly, with a little cheeky wink.

You lean in slightly, matching his challenge. "Alright then, Piastri. If you’re so sure, let’s make this interesting."

His smirk deepens. "Go on."

You pretend to think. "If Lando wins, you have to—" You pause, eyes flickering over him before smirking. "Actually, no. I’ll save that for later."

Oscar blinks, then tilts his head, clearly intrigued but trying not to let it show. "And if I win?"

Your grin widens. "I guess I’ll admit I backed the wrong papaya."

Oscar lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "That’s it? No real stakes?"

"You want me to grovel?"

He hums as if considering. "Wouldn’t say no."

You roll your eyes, pushing yourself up from your chair. "Go win your race first, then we’ll talk."

Oscar watches you for a beat, then stands, stretching slightly.

"Good," he murmurs, eyes flickering with something unreadable. "I'll see you after the race, then."

And just like that, he walks away, too at ease, too sure of himself.

The worst part?

You can’t tell if you want him to win or lose. Probably both.

…

The Shanghai podium celebrations are wild—McLaren crew drenched in champagne, cheers echoing through the paddock, orange confetti stuck to everything in sight. Oscar won. Lando finished P2. It’s a dream result for the team, and the energy is electric.

You’re lingering near the back of the garage, watching as Oscar strides in, helmet still in hand, damp curls sticking to his forehead, fireproofs half-zipped down. He looks buzzed, winded, like he’s still catching up to the fact that he just won a Grand Prix.

You weren’t planning to stare. Really, you weren’t. But something about the way he looks—sharp, effortless, quietly victorious—makes it annoyingly difficult not to.

He catches your eye immediately.

“Ah,” he says, grinning like he’s already won twice today. “My biggest doubter.”

You fold your arms, smirking. “Doubter? I prefer realist.”

Oscar scoffs, shaking his head. “Right. And what’s your realist take now?”

You pretend to consider, tapping your chin. “I guess I was wrong.”

He arches a brow. “Sorry, what was that?”

You narrow your eyes, mock-annoyed. “Don’t make me say it twice.”

“I just want to make sure I heard it correctly,” he says, stepping closer, the noise of the garage fading slightly around you. “Did you just admit you underestimated me?”

You exhale, dramatically. “Fine. You were fast today. Scary fast.”

Oscar tilts his head, his gaze flicking between yours, like he’s memorizing the moment. “I’ll take that.”

His voice is softer now. The teasing still lingers, but there’s something else beneath it.

And for the first time, you let yourself actually feel it.

The heat curling between you, the undercurrent of something that’s been there all weekend, just waiting for someone to name it.

“Alright, relax, mate,” Lando interrupts, draping an arm around your shoulders, half yanking you away from Oscar. “You’re acting like you won the championship, not one race.”

Oscar lets out a breathy laugh, running a hand through his damp curls. “Sorry. Forgot I’m supposed to act like I don’t care.”

Lando smirks. “That’s more like it.” Then, he squints at you. “But you—” he taps your arm, mock-accusing, “—I saw you talking to him way too much today. And he never talks to anyone.”

You roll your eyes. “Relax, Norris. You know you are my favorite McLaren driver.”

Oscar chuckles, shaking his head. "Still backing the wrong papaya, I see."

You shrug, grinning. "I stand by my choices."

He leans in slightly, voice dropping just enough to make it feel deliberate. "Mmm. Let’s see how long that lasts."

Lando groans, shaking his head. "You do realize I can see you two, right? Like, I’m standing right here. I hate this. I’m leaving."

You laugh as he walks off, shaking his head, disappearing into the crowd of McLaren personnel.

Oscar, still standing close, exhales through his nose, amused. “You know, for someone who’s so sure about her loyalties, you’re suspiciously invested in proving me wrong.”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “I am not invested.”

He lifts a brow, tilting his head slightly. “Aren’t you?”

You hold his gaze. “No.”

Oscar hums, studying you in that annoyingly patient way of his, like he’s waiting for you to break first.

And then—he steps in, just enough that you feel the space shift, just enough that your breath catches before you can stop it.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he murmurs, voice lower now, teasing but edged with something softer.

You blink. Heart in your throat. “You thrive off of this, don’t you? Making my life difficult.”

He grins, easy and unbothered. But he doesn’t step back.

“Maybe.” His gaze dips, just slightly, like he’s debating something. “You don’t seem to mind so much, though.”

Your stomach does a stupid, useless flip.

You could say something snarky. Something to break whatever is suddenly heavy in the air between you. But for some reason, you don’t.

In your attempt to break the tension, you roll your eyes, lightly shoving his arm. “Go celebrate, Piastri.”

His smirk lingers as he steps back—just slightly, just enough.

“Oh, I am.”

He turns to leave but hesitates—just long enough for you to notice, just long enough for it to feel intentional.

Then, with an almost lazy kind of ease, he glances over his shoulder. “You coming later?”

It’s not a demand. Not even a direct invitation. Just a question, wrapped in something that feels a little like a dare.

Your lips twitch. “Depends.”

Oscar tilts his head slightly. “On?”

You pretend to think, tapping a finger against your chin. “How generous you’re feeling after your win. Think you can handle buying me a drink?”

His smirk deepens—not cocky, not smug, just amused.

“Yeah,” he says simply, eyes flicking over you once before settling again. “I think I can handle that.”

Your grin widens. “Good.”

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

HOUSE CALLS.

Professor!Terrence x Aaliyah

Summary: Aaliyh has an elusive charm that can be alluring to some and frustrating to others. Professor Terry is compelled to have her. On one fateful evening at his college buddies bachelor party, he runs into Aaliyah. An interaction he hadn’t imagined would ever happen.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ CONTENT, based off of Players Club, Nasty Talk, Professor!Student.

Part One.

The combined elements of dark wood and a silver-painted metallic finish gave his desk an exquisite appearance within the lecture hall. The theater–like room was cloaked in silence and a gloomy ambiance from the constant downpour of rain. The occasional clearing of throats or shuffling of papers could be heard, but everyone clung on to his words as he leaned casually against his desk.

He was situated in front of the class, one hand reclined back to brace himself, while the other held a book within his grasp by its withering spine. He crossed his feet at the ankles, rounded, gold–rimmed specs hanging onto the bridge of his nose. His full lips moved in tandem with his educated words, blue–grey eyes flicking from the passage he was reading to the class of over thirty students before him.

“…Brain size in mammals is generally proportional to body size. Relative to body mass, humans have the largest brain. The chimpanzee brain has an approximate volume of 300 cm3; a gorilla’s is slightly larger. The human adult brain is more than three times larger, typically between 1,300 cm3 and 1,400 cm3. The brain is not only larger in humans than in apes but also much more complex. The cerebral cortex, where the higher cognitive functions are processed, is in humans proportionally much greater than the rest of the brain when compared with apes…”

He articulated his words fluently, deep baritone drawing you in like a breath of fresh air.

Aaliyah scribbled across her notepad with her iPad propped up in front of her, occasionally highlighting passages from the same book she’d downloaded. She had one too many books creating an almost mountainous pile within her bedroom. Thank goodness this was her last semester. She’d put off taking this combined Ethics and Psychology course, realizing she needed it to graduate.

The magnetic allure of her gaze blinked away from the Professor, the end of her red, ink pen situated between her heart–shaped lips. Her upturned eyes followed the movement of the Professor licking his thumb to turn a page. She crossed one shapely thigh over the other, the thick material of the navy blue sweats she wore cozy. Her small foot covered in old Vans bounced slightly, a habit she couldn’t control.

“…Humans live in groups that are socially organized, and so do other primates. But primate societies do not approach the complexity of human social organization. A distinctive human social trait is culture, which may be understood here as the set of non-strictly biological human activities and creations. Culture in this sense includes social and political institutions, ways of doing things, religious and ethical traditions, language, common sense and scientific knowledge, art and literature, technology, and in general all of the creations of the human mind. Culture “is a pool of technological and social innovations that people accumulate to help them live their lives…”

His patience, communication, and passion helped her pay attention, even though she couldn’t help but to fantasize and escape to a place where she could dream. It was the intuitive feeling within her. Beyond her squared, black frames, she found herself memorizing the shape of his elongated fingers cupping the book. The way he talked with his hands. So expressive. Voice so even toned and soft at times. She couldn’t be the only one captivated by her handsome Professor.

“I know it’s nearing time for us to leave,” He strolled lazily towards one of the large windows, “It’s really coming down out there. Well…why don’t we pick back up on Friday? Make sure you all submit your midterm papers. I’ve extended the due date…”

The class began to gather their things. Aaliyah didn’t make a fuss to leave just yet. From the Professor’s view, he peeked up at her from behind his desk, still sitting in her seat, chewing on her pouty, bottom lip with so much focus on her IPad. He didn’t bother her, taking that time to check his curriculum. Aaliyah’s silent presence didn’t bother him. So why bother her?

After thirty minutes, she stood, stretching her arms that were drowning in an oversized, graphic hoodie. Her silk pressed hair was styled in a low bun and medium–sized silver hoops decorated her ears. She threw her school bag over her shoulder and slipped from behind her desk, leaving the room. Before she reached the door, she turned back and caught the hypnotic eyes of her Professor. She gave him a silent wave and he returned the gesture with a small smile, watching her disappear from his eyes.

He couldn’t shake the twinge of sadness in her leaving.

——

As Friday rolled around, Aaliyah found herself running late for class. It was her own fault. She’d started a side hustle that earned her more money than what she’d gotten paid working remote for Verizon. It required a lot of her time, and she’d become so obsessed with it that her sleep schedule changed. Dressed in a pair of heather–gray leggings with a matching oversized, slouchy sweatshirt, Aaliyah opened the door to the lecture hall, quickly finding herself scurrying to her usual seat in the middle of the Professor’s speech.

“Excuse me…sorry…”

Aaliyah squeezed into her seat and hastily worked to fall in line, cursing herself internally. Her sleek hair framed her face as she buried herself into her work.

“Aaliyah?”

Her eyes held slight bags beneath them. They connected through her lenses at the Professor. She could feel eyes on her in other parts of the room as well.

“Is everything okay?” He questioned with concern.

“Yes, Professor Richmond. I had a late start today…”

“Okay…do you know where we are or do you need me to fill you in?”

A faint smile graced her shimmering lips.

“I know where we are. Thank you.”

Professor Richmond nodded his head slightly before turning his attention back to the whiteboard. Aaliyah swooped some of her long hair back from her face and behind her ear, reaching for her Stanley cup to quench her thirst.

In the middle of lecture, Aaliyah’s phone vibrated within the front pocket of her school bag. She groaned slightly, distracted by the noise while jotting down notes. After a while she couldn’t ignore it. Professor Terry caught sight of her reaching for her phone, and he took note of the stress lining her pretty face.

Meanwhile, Aaliyah’s eyes scanned two texts from a friend and former coworker of hers, asking if she was free to meet up after class. Aaliyah had an inclination of what it was about, but ultimately she agreed to meet up for lunch. After settling that distraction, she pulled herself back into her work, not aware of Professor Richmond’s eyes on her.

“Class dismissed. See you all on Wednesday…”

And as expected, Aaliyah held her spot. Professor Richmond had his back facing her while using an Expo eraser to clear the board. He wore a black sweater that molded into his sinewy upper body in all the right places. The black slacks he wore to match accentuated his ass and strapping thighs.

After recapping the marker, he gave Aaliyah a once–over. He studied her for another minute before placing his hands within the pockets of his slacks, making his way towards her. Aaliyah looked up at him, her posture straightening. He settled next to her, a soft smile on his face. Aaliyah waited for him to say something, an arched brow raised in question.

It just dawned on her that she’d never been this close to him.

Professor Richmond was thinking the same thing.

“How are your studies coming along?”

The deep vibrato of his voice was so smooth she found herself smirking. Aaliyah blinked away from his overwhelmingly handsome face, trying her best to focus on the text before her instead of the man that occupied her space with a fragrance so utterly charismatic with a blend of basil notes, bewitching lavender, and sandalwood accords.

“As well as it can to pass this class, Professor.” She responded.

The sound of her melodic voice, the way it lulled him into a trance. He couldn’t shake it. His long fingers drummed against the desk, the ability to control the urge to catch a more…invading whiff of her sweet perfume paining him. And was that…a tongue ring?

He had the biggest crush on Aaliyah.

“You sound put out. I hope that paper is coming along.”

Aaliyah cut her tantalizing eyes at him and those sinful lips parted to speak, “I’m finished. Mostly. Just need to do a bit of editing.”

“Good…good. Hey,” Professor Richmond leaned in closer, removing his glasses, “Can I ask you a question?”

Aaliyah focused on him with a steady gaze. Never wavering. She turned her curvy body in her chair to face him fully. Professor Richmond’s blue–gray eyes did a quick sweep of her frame.

“Depends on the question…then I’ll determine if it warrants a response…”

Sassy.

“Ha, okay,” Professor Richmond exhaled, “I would like to take you to lunch sometime. Away from campus…my treat.”

He pressed his large hand against his solid chest and tilted his head at her. Aaliyah blinked at him slowly.

“Today if you’re free…how does that sound?”

Aaliyah twisted her lips to fight a smile. It didn’t work however. That smile of hers broke through and it was beautiful. It was one of those smiles that captivated you. So sexy. Oh so sexy.

She was just…sexy.

“I can’t,” Aaliyah turned away, her hair sweeping her back, “I’m meeting a friend for lunch already…”

Professor Richmond’s thick brows flicked up and he groaned softly. He was hoping for a yes.

“Then…we can plan a lunch next week?” He persisted.

Aaliyah tucked her chin and giggled softly. It was a sight to behold. He wasn’t going to back down.

“Next week…hmm…maybe. I have a lot going on.”

Her dismissive tone didn’t stop him. Maybe it was because he was her Professor. She probably didn’t want to get caught up in that. Probably didn’t have time for that mess. A beautiful woman such as herself probably gets approached every damn day by men. What makes him any different?

“Whenever you’re free then,” Professor Richmond widened his thighs to appear more relaxed, “I hope I’m not being too forward…”

Aaliyah trailed her eyes from his thighs to his face. He caught that. He knew she found him attractive. He knew his potential. Felt her eyes on him plenty of times.

“I’m not looking for anything right now. I appreciate the gesture though,” Aaliyah turned those beautiful eyes away, “I’m sorry.”

Professor Richmond looked away from her, trying his best to hide his disappointment. He clenched his sculpted jaw, accepting defeat. A slight smile graced his lips as he stood, fixing the hem of his sweater.

Better luck next time. And there will be a next time.

“I’ll leave you to it then, Aaliyah…enjoy the rest of your day, beautiful.”

The way he called her beautiful…the bounce of her foot stilled.

“You do the same, Professor,” She replied, eyes never leaving her iPad, although a smirk graced her succulent lips.

He paused in his descend, turning to look at her over his shoulder. Her eyes connected with his again, dark brown meeting bluish–grey. The way her hip sat, jutted out from her thigh crossed over the other. She was doing things to his psyche. Her feet in flat, black sandals. Those pretty toes. That beautiful hair. It was all too consuming.

“I’m Terry by the way.”

He felt he needed her to know him on a first named basis. Aaliyah blinked at him with those curled lashes. She smiled again, smaller this time, but it still held a seductive quality.

“I know.” She responded impertinently.

He shook his head and released a soft chuckle. Sassy indeed.

Terry returned to his desk, gathering his things. He shut his laptop and the sound of Aaliyah walking down the steps towards the exit brought his attention back. Although she always wore loosely fitting tops and occasionally bottoms, the sway of her hips didn’t go unnoticed. No matter how hard she tried to cover it all up. He knew she was shielding a body beneath those layers.

Her dainty hand grasped the handle to the door. Aaliyah glanced over her shoulder at him one final time. Terry waited, hands finding its way into his pockets.

“I’ll see you Wednesday, Professor.”

A slow, half smirk crept up his face.

“Same as well, Miss Aaliyah. Enjoy your weekend.”

She waved goodbye with a flutter of her fingers in a flirty manner before leaving him alone to his thoughts.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that she was taunting him.

——

Aaliyah climbed the short, concrete steps leading her inside Elsie’s Plate and Pie. Home to legendary pies and authentic taste in Baton Rouge. It wasn’t far from her Shotgun House. She removed her shades, spotting her friend, Keisha, sitting near a window. Keisha is a tall, thick woman. Her hazel eyes ignited when she spotted Aaliyah, one hand with long, red acrylic nails waving her over. Aaliyah scooted past a crowded table, holding her arms out to accept a hug from her longtime friend.

They did the squeeze and sway motion, big smiles on their faces.

“Y’at?! Girl it’s been forever. Baby, you look fucking good. How’s school and shit?” Keisha questioned boisterously.

“It’s going, girl. Almost done. You?”

“Still doing my thing at Crazy Horse. We miss you there,” Keisha gave Aaliyah sad eyes and a pout.

“You know I miss ya’ll too,” Aaliyah grabbed her glass of water, opening a straw, “What you finna get?”

“I don’t know…”

They scanned the menu, both settling on crawfish queso as a starter when their waiter sauntered over.

“Brittany still sleeping with Mack?” Aaliyah asked while sipping from her straw.

“Girl…” Keisha rolled her eyes, “He still breaking that down. She ain’t hopping off that dick…”

“Ugh,” Aaliyah scrunched her face up in disgust, “Mack though? That’s why I had to go. How do you do it? That nigga irks me.”

Keisha laughed, “I have my ways. I do what I gotta do to survive.”

Their appetizer arrived. Aaliyah didn’t hesitate to dig in. She was starving. The turkey bacon, fried eggs, and croissant breakfast she had earlier didn’t stick to her stomach.

“Li–Li, I wanna know if you’d be down for this new thang I got goin’ on.”

And here it comes…

“Keisha…” Aaliyah rolled her eyes.

“You’ll love it. Trust me.”

“I want to, but then I’m like…Keisha a wild girl. Whatever it is, I know it ain’t simple.”

They both laughed.

“Let me fill you in, bitch!”

“Go ‘head,” Aaliyah cackled, “I’m waiting.”

“Awrite, so…We both know working at Crazy Horse ain’t shit. Half the money we earned went to Mack ass…”

“True…”

“So, I do this side gig. House calls.”

Aaliyah have a half shrug before crossing one leg over the other beneath the table, “Okay?”

“Andddd…I want you to join me.”

Before Aaliyah could respond, they placed their orders. Seafood pot pies.

“Keisha, I got this online content thing lined up and it’s hittin’ off. I made 350 dollars in one night,” Aaliyah scooped up the last bit of dip.

“What’s 350 to two grand?”

Aaliyah snorted, “Two grand? Serious?”

She sat up straighter in her seat. Aaliyah inclined her head towards Keisha for her to continue. That two grand sounded promising…

“Tell me what you do for these house calls.”

“It depends. It could be an all woman thang…a little toy party situation…most of the time it’s bachelor parties and believe it or not, men in uniform…”

“Men in uniform?” Aaliyah gawked at Keisha, “Like, military men?”

“Military men, policemen…tomorrow it’s firefighters. They pay good money for you to show up and perform. You don’t gotta go further than that unless you want to. That’s where the real bandz come from.”

Aaliyah let Keisha’s words sink in while she swirled the ice in her glass around with her straw. Aaliyah couldn’t deny that she missed dancing on the pole. It was exciting. Made her feel sexy. The best full body workout. She often craved the neon colors against her skin beneath the black lights. Her gravity-defying moves around the dance pole, sky-high heels and perfect hair, it was nothing short of magical.

Part acrobat, part athlete, part artist.

“I can see the wheels in your head turning…sounds good, huh?” Keisha asked with a knowing grin.

Aaliyah hummed, her eyes scanning Keisha’s face, “Almost too good…”

“Like I said, tomorrow night I have a gig at the fire house. I was bringing this other girl, she go by Diamond. She was cool…but I feel like me and you are a dynamic duo. Miss Dark Angel…”

Excitement tickled her nerves.

“So? You wanna go?”

“…I don’t know, Keisha…”

Aaliyah hung her head, deep in thought. She crossed her arms over her chest, breasts sitting up invitingly.

“Just…think it over tonight. Hit me up and let me know.”

Aaliyah dragged her tongue over her upper teeth. Keisha giggled at her, causing Aaliyah to snap out of her deep thoughts. She only had tonight to decide. Stripping was such a hard hustle for her. She had just found her niche. But, if what Keisha was saying is true, she could make the most money she’d ever made as an exotic dancer. Tempting…

Their food arrived and they fell into gossip, laughing about wild shit, falling into their usual routine. Aaliyah finished her entire pot pie while Keisha packed hers to go.

“We gotta do this more often, Li–Li,” Keisha slapped some money down, paying the tab, “You got your nose in ‘dem books! You’ve always been so smart…I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Keisha. We definitely have to link more. This last semester is kicking my ass. It’ll all pay off.”

“Seeing anybody?”

“Fuck no,” Aaliyah’s shoulders bounced with her laughter, “My professor did ask me on a lunch date today…”

“Oh?” Keisha’s eyes widened with interest, “Do tell.”

“Nothing to tell,” Aaliyah replied, “He’s very handsome. Sweet…I’m not tryna get tangled in that. I know how that can go…”

“I hear ya. Best to keep focused. Men come and go, girl. I ain’t got time either.”

They both stood, walking out together. Aaliyah had parked her Jeep behind Keisha’s all black Hellcat. They hugged again, giving each other a kiss on the cheek.

“Let me know!” Keisha shouted at Aaliyah’s retreating frame.

“I will!”

She waved goodbye, climbing into her Jeep and revving it up.

——

Aaliyah moved across her cramped kitchen with a swiftness, standing in her naked glory, body mimicking a glazed delight with how shiny and glistening her honey skin looked beneath the lights. She’d just finished filming some content, nothing too wild, just twerking and nasty talk.

“Don’t forget to tip, baby…”

“You gonna pay my tuition just to kiss me on this wet ass pussy, daddy?”

“I need some company, can’t stand looking edible alone…”

She used her same stage name. Liyah Allure. The Dark Angel. She used a video shot from a long angle, the white wall as her back drop. Lil Wayne–She Will instrumental playing in the background. Her sleek hair fell down her back and she would turn her head ever so slightly, giving teasing glances up and down while making that ass bounce and clap. She could move it with little no effort. Her hands glided over her sultry body, showing her viewers just how edible she is. And they wanted to take a bite.

Aaliyah racked up five hundred dollars. Friday’s were Freaky Friday. She showed more skin. You had to pay extra for a pussy shot. Aaliyah took pictures and videos for that as well. She spent a pretty penny on equipment. An elongated tripod held her camera in many angles. Her favorite shot was always from behind with her juicy thighs spread and shaking that big ass. Her wet, hairless pussy popped in the camera white those siren eyes looked back at it.

It was time for a bath. She wanted to spend the rest of her evening finishing up editing for her paper before submitting to Professor Richmond. Her Ethics and Psychology Professor. Aaliyah blew steam that wafted from her ceramic coffee mug as her slipper–clad feet shuffled towards her room. Placing the mug on her side table, she made her way towards her dresser and began wrapping her hair. She hated doing it, but she wanted a straighter look this time around so pin curling it wouldn’t work.

After securing her hair with three silk scarves to ensure she didn’t sweat it out, Aaliyah grabbed her mug and headed to her bathroom. She’d already prepared the bath with her bubble bath and essential oils. She loved using lavender and vanilla. There is a rack across her tub that she could place a book or even a drink on while enjoying her bath. The glow of the candles created a beautiful and relaxing environment.

Aaliyah listened to her Neo Soul playlist while reclining her head back and resting her eyes. She had her timer set for thirty minutes, making sure she didn’t fall asleep in her tub for longer than that like she’d done many times before. Her head went limp on its side, the tiredness of her body finally succumbing to sleep. As she slept, the eyes of her Professor appeared.

Intense. His gaze is intense.

It’s also attentive. By now, she was sure he’d memorized every subtle detail of her face. Images from earlier appeared. She took note of the way he leaned in towards her, like he wanted to smell her perfume. Juicy Rose, Black Cherry Liquor, Moss Accord. He wanted to be swept up in it. The tops of her breasts peeking through the soapy surface moved up and down with her sleeping breath.

For a while, Aaliyah caught on to the Professor checking her out. It wasn’t obvious to her at first, but she caught on to how he would position himself directly in front of his desk, exactly within her line of vision. If he focused forward, she would meet his gaze straight away. He made it a point to allow those striking eyes to linger on her for a beat longer. She’d walk out of that classroom on Wednesdays and Fridays knowing he was watching her. She’d caught him staring at her ass through the reflective glass of the lecture hall door.

She honestly hadn’t expected him to approach her. For a while, he’d just admired from afar. Most men do. The boldest a man ever got with Aaliyah was when she’d worked at Crazy Horse. Plenty of men there would ask her out. She’d even received flowers and gifts. At one point she had a stalker. Professor Richmond; Terry was different. She’d read many smutty stories about forbidden flings with a Professor. She’d save her fantasies for that.

Ding Ding Ding

Aaliyah’s eyes snapped open and with a long yawn she stopped the timer on her phone. She reached out for her mug and gulped down the warm tea. It should help put her to sleep. After bathing, she did all her necessary nightly routines before slipping on an oversized T-shirt that dangled from one shoulder. Aaliyah put on YouTube for background noise while opening her laptop to finish editing. Her eyes took note of the time.

11:30 pm.

She pushed her laptop forward and positioned herself onto her stomach, moving her hips from side to side and absentmindedly swinging her legs. Why couldn’t she shake the Professor from her mind?

Sent!

One assignment down, more to go.

Curiosity got the best of her. She started doing some digging. Aaliyah took to social media to find him. It wasn’t hard. She studied his LinkedIn.

PhD in Psychology. Fluent in French. Ex Marine.

From her place in class, he appeared shorter. Today however, when he walked up to her, he was massive. The same smirk he held in the picture she was currently staring at is the same he gave her before taking a seat.

Her body hummed with desire. This man is FIONE.

It wasn’t just the eyes. His entire face was just…

Aaliyah went down a rabbit hole of stalking. She found his Facebook and his Instagram both accounts were private, and she wasn’t about to follow him. That was a big no–no. This man could be hiding a wife. He could have kids. He could be crazy. All three of which she experienced with previous men. Aaliyah stopped herself before she could even go further.

But those lips…his voice…that body…

She wanted to see it…

Buzz Buzz

“Keisha…shit.”

Keisha: 👀👀

Fuck it. She already had her mind made up earlier. If she could leave that gig tomorrow night with two grand or more…she wasn’t going to pass up on that.

Aaliyah: I’m in 😈

Now, it was just a matter of figuring out what she was going to wear.

——

“Why is it so cold out here…”

Aaliyah followed closely behind Keisha inside of the Fire Station. She could hear the distant voices of the riled up men below. They entered a locker room, the lingering smell of smoke wafting from uniforms that hung from compartments burning her nose. Aaliyah cast wary eyes around her, making sure it was safe to take off her black, body con dress.

Keisha didn’t waste time stripping down to her very revealing monokini. The thin straps failed to hide her wide, brown areolas. That ass was rotund and sitting up like a shelf. You could sit a cup on that ass. Keisha wore her hair in two space buns with bangs. Her deep brown skin shimmered with gold–tinted body glow. The eight–inch heels on her feet made her six feet tall.

“They’re already in rare form and we ain’t even get started yet.” Keisha spoke with excitement.

“How many we expecting?” Aaliyah asked.

“About twenty. Why? You nervous?”

“No. I just want to know what I’m walking into.”

Aaliyah slipped out of her dress, the Wonder Woman two–piece she wore making her look edible. She wore gold six–inch pleasure heels to match. The low ambience of the locker room made the glitter on her skin stand out. She did a slow turn, Keisha nodding her head in approval.

“Looking real good. They’re gonna love you. Tip you off real good, bitch.”

“They better,” Aaliyah flashed Keisha a lustrous smile, “When do we go?”

Petey Pablo Freek–A–Leek started playing. The deep base of the southern banger from the early 00s vibrated the floors. Aaliyah locked eyes with Keisha.

“That’s our queue. You ready?”

Aaliyah flipped her hair over her shoulders and exhaled a shaky breath.

“Let’s do this shit.”

“Well already then…”

Keisha slipped past Aaliyah to lead the way, popping her on the ass for good measure. Something they did often back at Crazy Horse before working the floor and the pole. It was a way of saying, ‘break a leg’.

Aaliyah strutted towards a set of red spiral stairs. She allowed the music to flood her mind, putting her in the proper head space. She could do this. She’d done this many times before. A wolf whistle from a firefighter below gave her stomach a little flutter.

“Wooooweeeee!”

“Dayum! This what we got tonight, boys?!”

“Keisha!”

Keisha worked her way down the spiral staircase. She held a big smile on her face, teasing the men with a wink and a bounce of her big titties. They cheered and didn’t waste time throwing cash.

“Take your time wit’ it motherfucka’s we got all night!”

She looked up at Aaliyah and elevated a brow, her way of saying, Bitch! Let’s get to it!

Aaliyah shook off her nerves and descended the staircase, another massive uproar filling the room.

“Holy shit…”

“Fuck! She’s a baddie!”

“Look at that ass…”

“Hey, baby!”

Aaliyah scanned the room full of rowdy men pumped with testosterone and arousal. They each wore Baton Rouge Fire Emblems across their navy blue t-shirts. Black and white men. She could smell beer and liquor in the air with a hint of cigarette smoke. She noticed parked fire trucks and two gold poles. The poles they used to swing down during an emergency.

She worked her charm, flicking her jeweled tongue and biting her lip.

“Hi, boys…”

The seductive power she possessed put them all in a trance. The sound of heels against the concrete floor added to the desire. She moved around the men with confidence, eyeing them up and down while touching her body, focusing on her assets that earned her cash.

“Big fine woman…”

She looked up into the eyes of a carob–skinned man with a burly body. He looked like those men from the Jabari Tribe in Black Panther.

Aaliyah took advantage of that, arching her back and bouncing her ass on his crotch. Shouts and grunts filled the room.

“Damn…look at that pussy from the back…look at the way it’s sitting…”

“You like the way this pussy look, huh, baby?”

Aaliyah folded herself forward, trailing a finger over her covered pussy through her bikini bottom. A hefty chunk of cash smacked against her cheeks before raining down on her from above. She took it up a notch, grabbing her ankles and making that ass move from left to right.

Keisha was already on the pole, the straps to her monokini down and her titties bared for them all to see. Aaliyah felt a few bills being slipped into her blinki, and she looked back at the man that did it with low, wanton eyes.

“Gorgeous baby…what they call you?”

“Liyah Allure…”

“I want you.”

“You know to pay for what you want, right?”

Aaliyah flashed her titties before covering herself back up. That had them losing their damn minds. She slithered her way towards the second pole. It wasn’t exactly the pole she remembered, but it would do for this occasion. She did a back hook spin into a fireman spin. Some Three Six Mafia song started playing and Aaliyah went harder.

Green cascaded over her body while she popped ass and showed out. She locked eyes with Keisha, the exhilaration flowing between them like electricity.

Aerial Invert

Fan Kick

Drop Into A Split.

Aaliyah pulled out all her tricks and worked up a sweat. After doing her thing on the pole, she gave personal lap dances and even entertained face sitting on a timid firefighter while he was on his back. She crouched down over his face and started bouncing over him like she was riding a dick. She laughed and her eyes noticed a large wet spot in the front of his pants.

This man came on himself.

“I can smell her pussy! So good!” He shouted weakly.

Aaliyah missed the thrill.

They wouldn’t stop giving her money.

“Can I smell your perfume?”

*Tip*

“Show me those perfect, brown titties.”

*Tip*

“Put my face in it!”

*Tip*

They worked that room for two hours and then called it a night. After getting dressed, Aaliyah pinned up her sweated–out tresses and secured her bag. She’d just finished rubber banning the last of her money she’d split with Keisha. Keisha dropped her off, both of them cracking up and doubling over with laughter in her Hellcat.

“Bitch! That was so much damn fun!” Aaliyah said.

“I told you! This is where it’s at, girl. They loved you. I knew they would love you.”

“It felt so good being on the pole again.” Aaliyah smiled.

“Make sure you count that cash and let me know how much you made tonight. Until next time?”

Keisha wagged her brows at Aaliyah playfully. She giggled at her friend, opening her door to leave.

“When is next time?”

Keisha grinned.

“Next week. I got a bachelor party lined up. A fine ass groom. I got Diamond and Precious coming too. That’s gonna be wild…all black men…so you know…”

Keisha twirled a bottle of water in her lap to mimick a well–hung dick. Aaliyah threw her head back and laughed hard.

“Bitch! I’m not playing with you.” Aaliyah spoke between giggles.

“You down? We both know you want to…might as well say yes.”

“FUCK. YES. I’m in there. You picking me up?”

“Yeah I gotchu, Li–Li. Listen, we can’t be late for this, okay? You gotta be ready by eight. No later.”

“Okay. I’ll be in my best and ready to shake ass. I promise.”

Keisha pulled Aaliyah into a tight embrace and watched her enter her home before pulling off.

@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @uzumaki-rebellion @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @hotgrlcece @blackerthings @deja-r @helloncrocs @hearteyes-for-killmonger @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @blackpinup22 @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @madamzola @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter

[artofmaquenda]

Here’s my very first chestnut chocolate pie! 🍫🌰 It was so much fun to make and feels like the perfect autumn treat. 🍂 Just a heads up, it’s super rich! I’m still full the next day! 😆

I used this recipe: https://myfoodblog.nl/recipe/kastanjetaart-met-chocolade-lekkere-herfsttaart/

Here is the translated recipe:

Homemade Chestnut Puree:

Choosing Chestnuts: Go for fresh (sweet!) chestnuts, and make a small cut on the rounded side of each nut.

Roasting: Place the chestnuts on a baking sheet and roast them in the oven until the cuts open up (I personally cooked them for 10 minutes, but test it out for yourself to see if they are ready).

Peeling: Let the roasted chestnuts cool a bit and peel them while they are still warm.

Making the Puree: Put the peeled chestnuts in a food processor and pulse until you get a silky-smooth puree. Is it still grainy? Then add a very small amount of water. (I personally kept a lot of chunks in it because I like that).

Seasoning: Add a pinch of salt and a hint of vanilla extract to taste.

With this homemade chestnut puree, you’ll add an authentic autumn touch to your chocolate cake, making it not just a dessert but an experience. It's a fun autumn activity to go chestnut hunting together—just make sure you’ve got sweet chestnuts. Only those are safe to eat! Otherwise, you can also use store-bought chestnut puree. 😊

Ingredients

For the base:

50 grams of unsalted butter (or plant-based butter), melted 3 eggs 85 grams of granulated sugar 40 grams of (gluten-free) flour 40 grams of cocoa powder For the topping:

435 grams of chestnut puree (unsweetened) 2 eggs 1 tbsp cornstarch + 3 tbsp cold water 300 grams of chocolate (preferably milk chocolate) 600 ml heavy cream Supplies

Large springform pan lined with parchment paper Hand mixer or food processor Instructions

Prepare the base: Preheat the oven to 190°C (fan oven).

Beat the eggs and sugar until light and frothy. Add the cooled melted butter, then fold in the flour and cocoa powder. Pour the batter into the prepared springform pan and bake for about 10 minutes until set. Continue with the rest of the cake:

Whip the chestnut puree with the eggs and set aside. Pour half of the cream over the chocolate and melt it in a bain-marie. Whip the remaining cream until stiff. Mix the chestnut puree, cornstarch mixture, and melted chocolate, then fold in the whipped cream. Assemble and bake:

Spread the mixture over the chocolate cake base and bake for about 40-50 minutes until set. Allow the cake to cool completely, then chill in the fridge for at least 2 hours.

I personally added way more chestnut mash than is mentioned in the recipe, and I used the garnish from another recipe (didn't have everything at home but I used what I have):

Garnish ▢1 tsp cinnamon powder ▢1/2 tsp cloves ▢1 tsp ginger ▢1 tsp chili pepper ▢3 tbsp cocoa powder ▢1 tbsp powdered sugar ▢pinch of sea salt

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: fairy shrimp

It's week 2 of fresh-uary, the month where I only cover freshwater species for Wet Beast Wednesday. This week's entry is on fairy shrimp, who are neither fairies nor shrimp. Instead, they are members of a mostly freshwater group of crustaceans called Branchipods. These little invertebrates are masters at surviving inhospitable conditions and one group has become famous in both the novelty pet and fish food worlds. You may know them as brine shrimp.

(Image: a female fairy shrimp. It is a small invertebrate somewhat shrimp-like in appearance. It has a large head with a compound eye and two pairs of antennae. The body is long and slender and the front half ans multiple limbs with feathery structures attached to them. The second half ends in a forked tail. This one has a short, transparent egg sac attached to its body just behind the limbs. Small, spherical eggs are visible within. End ID)

Fairy shrimp are members of the family Anostraca, with about 300 known species, many of which are found in very isolated areas. Most species are tiny, maxing out at 6 to 25 mm long, but some species get larger. The largest species, Branchinecta gigas, can reach 170 mm (6.7 in). Being crustaceans, they have exoskeletons, but fairy shrimp exoskeletons are very thin and fragile. The fairy shrimp body plan is divided into three regions, the head, thorax, and abdomen. The head has two compound eyes on stalks, the mouth, and two pairs of antennae. The first pair is long, thin, and unsegmented while the second pair differs depending on sex. Females have a second pair similar to the first pair, while the males have a second pair modified into grasping appendages used to hold onto the female during mating. The thorax is divided into multiple (usually 13 but sometimes more) segments. All but the final two segments are identical and each have a pair of feather-like appendages called phyllopods that act both as swimming limbs and gills. The final two segments of the thorax are fused and have a pair of appendages used for mating. The abdomen consists of 6 segments that don't have appendages. The final segment is the telson, which has a pair of paddle-like structures used for rapid movement and the anus.

(Image: a male fairy shrimp, identifiable as such by the enlarged and leg-like second pair of antennae. End ID)

Fairy shrimp are graceful, but somewhat slow, swimmers who orient themselves belly-up and swim by moving their phyllopods in sequence. They primarily feed on algae, either by filter feeding or scraping it off of rocks and other submerged structures. Some of the larger species are predators of zooplankton and Branchinecta gigas is a hunter of smaller fairy shrimp. Fairy shrimp are found in inland water on all 7 continents. They specialize in seasonal pools and salt lakes. These harsh conditions make fairy shrimp experts as surviving where many other animals cannot. They have a high tolerance for salinity, heat, and low levels of oxygen, all of which help them survive in salt lakes and evaporating pools. A characteristic all fairy shrimp share is the ability for their eggs to enter a state called diapause. This is a form of cryptobiosis where the egg becomes a cyst that stops growth and metabolic activity. Their development effectively pauses until the proper conditions occur and biological activity resumes. Cysts can survive complete dessication, freezing, hypersaline conditions, UV radiation, and the vacuum of space and can remain in this condition for centuries. Diapause also helps the fairy shrimp spread, as their cysts can be carried to new habitat by the weather or other animals.

(Image: a giant fairy shrimp Branchinecta gigas held in somebody's hand to show off its size. It is longer than the person's finger and almost as thing in the thorax. End ID)

Fairy shrimp that live in seasonal pools live fast and die young. Their lifespans last a few months at most because they need to develop to maturity and reproduce before the pool dries up for the year. Most species of fairy shrimp have distinct sexes, but some species are exclusively female and reproduce through parthenogenesis. Males use their modified antennae to grab onto females and transfer sperm to her. The female will either carry her eggs on a sac attached to her abdomen or will maintain them internally. Eggs may be released to settle on the sediment or retained internally until the mother dies and sinks to the bottom. Some species will produce two types of eggs. Early season eggs are produced when water is still abundant in the pool. They will quickly hatch and mature to adulthood. Late season eggs are produced when the pool is drying up. They will settle to the sediment and become cysts, waiting for the next wet season to refill the pool before they hatch. Not all cysts will hatch each wet season, some will wait it out for later years. This ensures that a too-short wet season can't wipe out the whole population. Fairy shrimp living in salt lakes generally don't have to worry about their home drying out, but they maintain the ability to encyst their eggs in case the water gets too salty due to evaporation or too cold or hot. Fairy shrimp in salt lakes are vital to their environments because they regulate the population of phytoplankton and bacteria.

(Image: a close-up of somebody's hand holding some water and 9 red fairy shrimp. End ID)

Fairy shrimp are a major food source to many animals, especially birds. Their isolated or inhospitable habitats keep fairy shrimp safe from many predators, such as fish, but not from birds. Ducks and flamingos are some of the most prominent predators of fairy shrimp. Birds also help spread the shrimp, as the cysts can stick to their bodies or even pass through their digestive systems to be carried to other pools. Humans have also started using fairy shrimp as fish food in aquariums and aquaculture. There is now a multi-million dollar industry based around the Great Salt Lake in Utah and Mono Lake and San Fransisco Bay in California based around harvesting cysts and adult fairy shrimp for sale. The fairy shrimp used in aquaculture are almost all brine shrimp of the genus Artemia. Brine shrimp are also used as model organisms in science and as novelty pets under the brand name of sea monkeys. Brine shrimp cysts are easy to find in many pet and aquarium supply stores and will hatch quickly once exposed to water. Many wild fairy shrimp populations are threatened. Because of how isolated their pools can be, any damage to the pool can endanger the species. Pollution and habitat loss are threatening many species while human-caused movement of fairy shrimp cysts to new pools can lead to them harming native species.

(Image: a magazine advertisement for sea monkeys, featuring a long text listing dubious facts about the animals, an order form, and an illustration of a nuclear family of anthropomorphic sea monkets that look like fish people with three antennae. End ID)

[becoming-less-than]

✨🖤~Bimbo Chale….. ummm Trial Thingy~🖤✨

So like I’m bored and want to drive up the Umm amount you all like engage with my stuff and to like keep things fun and fresh. So like I think it’s time for a little Umm… ok like a thing to push me to like be more bimbo and bi based on how much y’all engage. Some ground rules:

1) don’t spam (… for now, I wanna like figure out a base level of how much y’all like see my stuff and might engage, so I can make these things totes better and like way more fun)

2) This will like be active and stuff until noon EST Friday any stuff after that won’t count.

3) This is for fun, don’t be a jerk it will totes get you a block.

4) I totes welcum other bimbos who aspire to less to join in on the fun if they want but do let tell folks where this started! 🖤

So let’s begin

- Every 5 notes is a time I’ll edge durin this week.

- Every 10 notes I’ll edge 2 times to straight porn

- Every 20 notes I’ll edge 4 times to the first gif sent by two… Umm not the same people

- Every 50 notes I’ll do 10 edges while suckin on a cock shaped toy

- Every 100 notes I’ll do a loop of BS files

- At 100 notes I’ll post another pic of myself with the toy in my mouth

- At 200 notes I’ll wear a plug for the rest of the challenge

- At 300 notes I’ll add bimbo speak to my spoken words during the day for the rest of the week.

- At 400 notes I’ll only edge to straight porn for the rest of the time

- At 500 notes I’ll do a week of denial when this is over

If we get to more than that I’ll add more mile… Umm… goals and stuff.

Let’s have fun!

[yuoimia]

DAY 1: FIRST FALL OF SNOW ❅⋆⍋

summary: activities you do in the snow

characters: albedo, childe, diluc, wriothesley.

notes: wc: 260-300 per character, roughly 1.1k total, gn! reader, fluff, mentions of reader being lost in the snow in childe’s, petnames, the madness begins.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ dreamy december event masterlist

albedo - how to build a snowman

All year round, Dragonspine is inundated with thick layers of gleaming snow.

Twinkling in weak sunlight, an ethereal sight both close-up and afar.

However, there was always something particularly striking about waking up to a fresh new coat of snow. Impeccably perfect, its raw beauty enthrals you each time. It was a privilege, you knew. Not just anyone could climb such an intimidating mountain, and the only reason you got to experience such phenomenons, the one who introduced you to this very mountain—was someone you’d never imagined to meet. Much less be more than acquaintances, a renowned genius, who currently stood completely blank in the suggestion of building snowmen.

"So, ah… I just add another pile on top?”

For the hundredth time this morning, you shake your head with an expression of amusement. “No,” you mutter, rolling the pile next to him into the shape of a sphere before placing it before him. “You need to make it into a ball shape, then place it on top. That will be its middle.” You point accordingly, an encouraging smile plastered on your face.

Albedo still doesn’t get it.

Instead, he watches silently as you enjoy yourself constructing a snowman. How interesting, creating little figures out of snow. He watches from afar as you unravel your own woollen scarf and wrap it around its uneven neck. He watches as you judge a variety of sticks to pick the most suitable to be its arms.

Albedo watches as you stand proudly beside it, a dazzling smile etching your face as he too, unravels his woollen scarf and gives it to you.

childe - snowball fights

You catch your breath behind a large cedar tree.

Was it a surprise? Surely not. Challenging Childe in any form of fight was the equivalence of battling in an arena, playful or not.

It also didn’t help that you were winning. For now, at least.

A strong gust of frosty wind brings a blizzard of newly formed snowflakes, collecting delicately on your hair and clothing. The fierce howls mask up any forms of sound, and the gradually falling snow covers up any traces of footprints.

Moreover, the temperature was severely dropping by the minute.

Perfect weather, you curse internally.

Your hands swiftly grab handfuls of the snow all around you, leaving a deep indentation in the shape of a ring all around you. Painfully obvious evidence that you were here, but at this point in time, you were more than ready to surrender. Between the choice of victory or frostbite, you’d willingly lose.

Cradling a dozen snowballs, your eyes are alert and searching as you attempt to outline any signs of a human. It’s hopeless; the wind is intensifying, swirling the frost like a snowglobe.

An anguished sigh escapes as you look down at the heavy layers of snow. Perhaps it was time to resort to something more desper-

Smack.

Something cold lands on the side of your face before falling to bits next to your feet. Another flies right past you.

You’re supposed to be mad; you’re supposed to shout and blame him for putting you in such a perilous and stupid situation, but you don’t.

As he catches you in an embrace, a contrast to everything you felt mere seconds ago, so frantic and tight, you realise how scared he was—scared enough to be rendered completely and irrevocably silent.

diluc - snow? my eyes are on you.

How long has it been?

How long have you been gazing, lost in your thoughts, through the window of your shared bedroom?

It’s quiet, but a comforting sort of quiet. The sort of quiet that you could appreciate for years and years and enjoy as if it were freshly discovered. Perhaps it was because of Diluc and the reserved and reclusive ambience he always carried. Whatever it was, you understood why he sought it so much.

Kaeya told you to expect snow tonight.

You love snow.

As soon as Diluc stepped one foot into the entrance of Dawn Winery, you had notified him most excitedly, “It’s going to snow tonight!”

You made sure not to mention that it was Kaeya who told you, though.

Being the gentleman he was, Diluc reciprocated your happiness most thoughtfully. Across the candlit dinner table, you swapped memories and dreams, all down until the last few tired murmurs sealed with a tender goodnight kiss planted on your forehead. A fond, “Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” as he drifted off to sleep.

Time steamed on; it must’ve been hours, according to the grandfather clock in the farthest corner of the bedroom, yet never once did your eyes stray from the window. You had long abandoned your previous sleeping position and now cozily huddled your legs, although still buried comfortably within the blankets.

Diluc seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

For a while, you observed in slight awe, the little rises in his chest as he inhaled, the serene expression decorating his face. It felt so intimate, so softly vulnerable—simply two people treasuring a moment in their lives so unknowingly—is what made it magnificent.

The first glimmers of snow lightly shimmered through the night sky as a familiarly snug hand pulled you beneath the covers.

wriothesley - ice skating

The many fountains in Fontaine had been frozen from the frigid weather, transforming the statues to behold graceful arches that glinted divinely in the feeble sunlight. Bound to be presented gloriously on the front page of the Steambird for the next three months or so.

Additionally, smaller bodies of water had completely transformed into ice, making it a perfect opportunity for extravagant winter activities. After all, Fontaine was never short of its flamboyance and charming flair when it came to anything of that sort.

That was the reason Wriothesley had spontaneously suggested going for a skate on the ice.

You had promptly declined at first, leaning over his desk, brushing the idea off with a brisk excuse of, “I can’t skate.”

Wriothesley had looked up from his stacks of documents, followed by a falsely exasperated roll of eyes, saying, “That’s what you said about dancing.”

"I'm not a very good dancer, you know that.”

“But I successfully taught you, didn’t I?" he confidently answered, standing from the overflowing desk.

You made a non-committal noise, shaking your head as Wriothesley chucked and wrapped an arm around you. “C’mon, let’s give it a try, all right, darling?”

This is precisely how you landed yourself in such a predicament.

The skates were easy enough to get on, but the process of skating, like you anticipated, was no easy skill.

Wriothesley, being the superb lover he is, let’s out a muffled snort as he watches you topple over for what could’ve only been the hundredth time that evening.

“Instead of laughing, you could actually help me like you promised, you know.”

With one last terribly hidden chortle, Wriothesley seizes your hands and gently guides your movements alongside his, careful and patient, as you both skate until the winter sunlight ebbs over the horizon.

[phagodyke]

RERAN IT AND ALL MY RESULTS ARE PERFECT NOW FUCK YEAAAAHHHHH

2hrs into a 3hr assay and I realise I fumbled an earlier step making up the substrate..... fml

[beemovieerotica]

goddd ok this article was such a breath of fresh air and I'm glad somebody put into words the issue I have with a lot of well-meaning trans activism on this site

people put so much effort here into trying to debunk any claims surrounding biological sex and athletics, and it is so fucking far from the point of trans rights to spend your energy arguing about an issue that measurably affects the 0.0001% of the population who make their living as professional athletes

and people are fundamentally not realizing how engaging in these arguments is directly affirming the division of sex as a multi-billion dollar system - down to the fears over high school girls losing out on scholarships ($$$) to go to college (the privilege and access of which we have restricted) - and instead of rightly criticizing the fact that education shouldn't be paywalled behind Being Good at Throwing Ball, or addressing the behemoth in the room that professional sports leagues are, at their core, something the public and corporations throw massive amounts of money at which of course creates incentives to regulate it in a way which reflects the dominant cultural powers, we're sitting here talking in circles sharing scientific papers about what hormones can or can't do to someone's body.

like...the solution to arguments about "biological advantages" isn't to deny that any differences exist, it's to ask why legislation that regulates the lives of over 300 million people should be centered around the profitability of a single career path

do you see it

[cutielights]

Warnings: injury mention, Leo being Leo.

Desc: Leo x G/N reader, unspecified if human or mutant/yo’kai. Comfort, cuddles! Generally trying to feel better about the whole world ending thing. 2nd person.

A/N: Happy 300! :D 741 words

Feeling Apocalyptic

The sound of chatter accompanied by several pairs of heavy duty boots thumping by your closed door fills your ears as you slump into your sorry excuse for a bed, the mattress flipped over as the springs had started to pop. Goosebumps run up your arms, only mildly soothed by the blanket you pull around your shoulders as you lean your head back against the metal wall with a soft *thud*.

You glance at the digital clock, the dim light displaying 11:39 PM. You know you really should be asleep in this condition. The stitched gash on your side beginning to ache with every movement. Those painkillers must be wearing off.

As you close your eyes, your mind runs rampant with worries and criticisms about the apocalyptic state of the world. This bloodthirsty apocalypse event had its birthday yesterday, it’s one now, gee I bet its parents are so proud. Has it had its fun yet? People are dying by the day and supply runs are beginning to yield less and less, it’s not going to be long before we have to start charring rats on a skewer.

Sighing in frustration and throwing the thin covers off , you sit up and move to swing your legs back over the edge of the bed.

Or, you would if pain hadn’t shot up your spine, a burning sensation accompanying it and irritating the gash desperately trying to heal. This injury is still fresh, the stitches clearly visible when you lift up your shirt, some scabs preparing to form along the lower edge. There was no room left in the med bay. This injury is on the lighter side of things.

Carefully, you shift your weight to lay down on the bed, moving a pillow over your head to block out the noisy hallway. Closing your eyes, it doesn’t take long for your body to eagerly pull your consciousness down into the abyss, leaving you in a dreamless sleep.

The scent of diluted disinfectant fills your nose, cold fingers wrapping around your arm. Your body responds, eyes shooting open and arm jerking back as you lay eyes on the perpetrator.

Alas, no Kraang. Just Leo.

A tired grin graces your lips as he leans down for a small kiss, the rare, warm, embrace more than welcome in this environment.

Landing a peck on your lips, his eyes flick back up at you before he pulls away, sitting up. “Sleepy, Mi Vida?” He chuckles tiredly, deep shadows making themselves known in their bed under his eyes by the lamplight. “You should really be asleep.”

This man’s audacity. “You woke me up-“ Nevermind. “Kinda hard with a gaping gash on my side.” You cross your arms, wincing a little as the skin around said wound becomes pulled with the movement, eliciting a worried flash across Leonardo’s face before quickly regaining a playful persona.

“Oh but I could have sworn you were patched up by the best just this morning, Mi Vida, hm?” He smiles, a gentle hand tracing the irritated skin around it, cold skin soothing. “You look great for someone actively bleeding out.”

You roll your eyes at this quip, perhaps not finding it as amusing as he does. “You finished all your ‘Resistance Leader Duties’ in order to come and annoy me?” You ask, a sly smile creeping across the corners of your lips.

“No, I had some issues left,” he mumbles, leaning his forehead against yours before closing his eyes, “Raph made me stop, said he could handle it.” He pauses before tiredly chuckling once again. “It’s five AM, I hadn’t stopped. Neither had Dee, wrestled him into bed.”

Snorting at this, you grab a pillow, whacking it playfully against his head.

“Hey- what was that for?”

“You don’t know what a pillow’s for?” You tease, laughing with him. “It’s a pillow. You just said it’s five in the morning, read between the lines.”

Leo grumbles at this, shifting his position. “Fine.” He lays down with you before pulling you closer to his chest, resigning his leadership role for a few hours rest. He hums, the vibrations tickling you as he traces circles into your waist. It doesn’t take long for the movement to subtly slow, eventually coming to a full stop as sleep takes him. You look at his peaceful face before the corners of your mouth curl into a soft smile. Resting your head under his, you too, fall back asleep.

A/N: eepy. Me, it’s me, I’m eepy. May edit this even when it’s up idk, finished this at 5am

Tags: @chillingshadow @crow-the-fox @moonchhu @ghoul-with-a-gun

[number-one-castiel-apologist]

“The One Thing I Can Never Have”

It’s always sunset in this part of paradise, and Dean is sitting on his front porch, with a perfectly cold beer in his hand. A chorus of birds are singing in the trees. The air is crisp and fresh, and nothing has ever been more serene. Calm. Perfect. Or, it should be, but there’s one thing missing. The one thing that makes it all mean nothing. Him. 

He still hasn’t been able to find him. Sam’s seen him, Bobby’s seen him, even freakin’ Garth’s seen him. But he’s been avoiding Dean, staying away from every place in heaven that he frequents. And Dean’s got no idea why— why he would leave after what he said. 

He spent so long wishing that Castiel (a damn Angel of the lord) could be capable of loving him. Loving him back. He spent so long denying his own feelings, cause he thought they’d never have a chance together. And then Cas was confessing, and he was alone, on the floor, with his heart ripped out of his chest and a bloody handprint on his shoulder. And Dean didn't say anything. He couldn’t. He didn’t even know how to process it when those words passed over Cas’ lips.  Now, he had been in heaven for what would’ve been almost three months on earth, and Cas wouldn’t see him. He was actively avoiding him. That son of a bitch. 

Dean stares out at the horizon, with the sprawling golden fields and shining skies. He knows what he’s gotta do. So, he gets down on his knees next to the old oak bench on his front porch. He bows his head and clasps his hands together. He doesn’t even know if prayers will work here, ‘upstairs’— if Cas can hear him. But he can’t do.. this. He can’t spend eternity without his angel. 

“Cas. Castiel, I— uh, c’mon, man, please don’t do this. Don’t be a stranger. Don’t leave me. I…” Dean takes a breath. “I need you.” He looks up, fighting the tears filling his eyes. “I can’t let that goodbye be the end.” Of this. Of us. “Please.”

The familiar noise of rustling feathers fills the air. Dean feels the wind like a warm summer breeze against his spine. 

“Hello, Dean.” Cas’ voice is rough and unsure. 

Dean whirls around, startling to his feet. He can see the hesitance in Castiel’s eyes. The fear.  For a moment Dean doesn’t know how to start— what to say —even when he’s thought of this a thousand times. “..Cas.” He’s choked up. A smile comes to his face, his eyes begin to tear up even more. 

“Dean.” Cas repeats, shifting awkwardly. He fixes his gaze onto his shoes. 

Dean melts. “God you have no idea— Why? Why haven’t I seen you? You’ve been to see everyone else, but not me. Why?”

“I thought that it was what you would prefer. After what happened in the bunker. I-” Cas glances away, “-didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Dean’s heart breaks. Twelve freaking years, and Cas couldn’t see how much he wanted him. He never understood that he was all he’d wanted. More than anything. For a long time now. 

I didn’t know how to face you. “I wasn’t sure if you would want to see me again.”

“Of course I’d wanna see you again. Cas, you’re….” My friend. Everything to me. More. Dean isn’t usually at a loss for words, but right now he’s thinking of too many to get a single one out. 

“We could.. assume a pretense where this never happened.” pain is written all across Cas’ face. “I…” he takes the longest pause in the history of long pauses, “…could wipe your memory even, if you’d like for me to do that.”

The words hit Dean like a 300 pound UFC champion just socked him in the jaw. “Are you sayin’ you didn't mean it?” Dean wants to give him an out, a way to go back to before anything changed. (And half of him even believes that maybe, Cas has decided he doesn’t want him. After he‘d drank himself into oblivion and then died on a rusty nail. Really—it was suicide, if he’s being honest. ) He gives him a way out, because more than anything he just wants Cas back in his life. Or, well, afterlife. The point is, he can’t stand to be without him. Ever. 

“I..” Cas chokes up. He doesn’t know how to do this. How to let himself feel. But he doesn’t want to lose Dean, either. That would be his worst nightmare. “I tried to save you.” The tenderness in his voice can’t hide his anger or sadness. “You weren’t supposed to die so young.” His face is broken. His bright, blue eyes are shining with tears. 

“You sacrificed yourself. For me.” Dean has to stop himself from reaching out to dry Cas’ eyes. “But I couldn’t— I couldn’t live without you, man. And I didn’t know what to say, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Cas. Just please tell me you ain’t taking it back.” Dean looks at him with a pleading, unwavering gaze. 

Cas looks almost offended at the thought that he ever would. “No. I’m not. I meant what I said.” His heart skips a beat. His hands are fisted tightly at his sides. He’s afraid to reach out for Dean. He doesn’t know if he can have him yet. If he’ll ever have him. The one thing I can never have. 

“..Need to, um.. hear you say it.” The birds and the wind are all distant now. White noise, unimportant over the sound of Dean’s hammering heart. 

Cas furrows his brow, tilting his head to the side in confusion. “I already--“

Dean cuts him off. “I know, Cas.” His throat is tight and his lungs hurt. Hell, his whole chest does. The tension is killing him. 

“Dean…” He looks up at him, a thousand questions running through his head. 

Dean’s expression softens. “Please.” I need this. The same way I need you. 

Cas remembers the joy he felt. The desperation. The heartache. The empty swallowing him whole. He’s terrified to say it again. Terrified of this longing. But Dean is looking at him like he’s his whole world, and who is he to deny him this? “I do mean it.” His voice is barely a whisper, but still firm. Reassuring Dean. “I love you.”

Dean lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I love you too, Cas. And I need you.” You’ve always had me. I’ll tell you that, someday. He steps forward, into his angel’s arms. He hugs him, tight. His fists are balled up in the material of Cas’ trenchcoat. His face is buried in his collar. 

Cas smells like soap and the outdoors. He smells.. almost human. The tears are flowing from Dean’s eyes now. He shakes his head in disbelief as he breaks their embrace. Cas loves him. Him— the killer and the Micheal sword and the weapon. ‘Daddy’s blunt little instrument.’ Everything you’ve done, you’ve done for love. 

“I’m never letting you go.” Dean holds Cas’ face tenderly in his hands. “Never again. Do you hear me?”

“Yes.” Cas smiles softly at him. “I hear you.” All he can think of is how grateful he is that Dean even wants to see him again. And furthermore, Dean loves him back. Dean Winchester loves him. He lets the heaviness on his shoulders ease away. This is it. 

Dean wipes away the trails of his tears with trembling fingers. Finally. “God.. Cas,” Dean bites his lower lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. “--will you… can I—- ” The rays of sunlight are reflecting through his eyes, making them a beautiful, golden green. He inhales sharply, desperate. Hopeful. “Kiss me?”

Cas answers through pulling Dean in by his jacket, tilting his head upwards, and pressing his lips against Dean’s. 

Dean’s eyes flutter shut, and he kisses him back. He leans in, holding Cas tightly like he could be ripped away from him again at any moment. Cas is steady, where Dean is barely holding on by a thread now. One of his hands finds its way to Cas’ wrinkled tie to pull him closer. He cards his fingers through his hair with the other. It’s slightly longer than it was on earth, falling through his grip in loose, dark waves. 

When Jack brought him back from The Empty, Cas became different. Human. He lives and he breathes now. Dean can feel it— his breath, his pulse. He’s warm, and his heart is beating, and he’s here. Alive. Cas’ lips are chapped. His hair is tangled, and Dean thinks that he might finally be happy. Free. Just the way he always wanted. Dean takes a deep breath, and he melts into Castiel’s arms, smiling into their kiss. 

[the-traveling-poet]

We hit 300 followers?! Thanks y’all 🫶🏼🤎 In celebration, here’s another Soft!Levi drabble cause OOC Levi can be a fresh breath of air :)

An image popped into my head the other night about Levi being so (secretly) smitten with you that he’d do literally anything for you and to help you, including keeping you warm on winter-time expeditions, and I just lost it I hAd to write.

“Whose bright idea was this anyways? Venturing past the walls while the weather is in the negatives.”

“It was Commander Erwin’s, sir.”

“Well then he isn’t too bright, now is he.”

Eld shrugged his shoulders once his Captain turned his back, shooting a look over to Gunther with a silent plea for something to say for the man to feel less bitter.

Gunther only pursed his lips and shook his head, unable and unsure how to help the poor man console their grumpy Captain.

He’d never been one to complain about the weather, that much they knew for certain. He never made a comment if it were too hot or too cold outside. Rather, he’d just dress accordingly and scoff at Hange for whining and cursing at the sky.

But today…Today was different.

Sure, the weather was a bit nippy. The wind had yet to cease its constant flow across the fields, and occasionally a speck or two of snow would float down from the heavens. It wasn’t the worst weather they had traveled through, by far.

But Levi was irritable. And when he was irritable, his squad had learned to tiptoe around him for fear of a quick lashing from his tongue.

While Oulo echoed their Captain’s complaints to a very unimpressed Petra some feet away, Eld and Gunther wondered amongst themselves as to why this could be.

They were only scouting the perimeter for titan activity, so that they could relay this information back to the Commander for the upcoming expedition that was soon to be held. So what could have set the raven off about this mundane, ordinary task?

The answer flew before their eyes and landed on the ground with a soft crunch as the frost clinging to blades of grass were squashed under foot.

The squad’s fifth Cadet, Y/N, was quick to sheath the handles of their gear back into their holsters and wrap their arms around their shoulders. Exhaling a breath that fogged the air, they shuddered.

“N-nothing on the east side,” they reported quietly to Captain.

Levi was quick to turn to them, assessing the shivering state they were in. The furrow in his brow and the downward tilt of his lips didn’t go unnoticed by the second command and his friend, who snickered to one another in realization.

Y/N was freezing out here. Of course their socially awkward Captain would be pissed about having his lovely Cadet uncomfortable.

Though their snickers soon died in their throats when, instead of responding to Y/N’s report, he shook off his Survey Corps jacket and cape and draped them over their shoulders.

“We’ll be heading back to Headquarters in no time. Till then…Just…S-stay by me, alright? Cant have you catching a cold.”

His muttered statement and pink tinted cheeks were enough to halt even Oulo in his rambling, who turned to Petra in confusion.

“It’s not that cold-“ he muttered in confusion, to which Petra quickly shushed him as she watched on in glee.

“T-thanks,” Y/N whispered, taking a step closer to Levi and huddling into their additional clothing.

“Don’t mention it. I-I run hot anyways.”

taglist: @21aurora @deepzombieyouth @braunsbabe

[phantomrose96]

hi your short story is giving me absolute brainworms it’s DAMN good. I don’t have anything of real note to add so I’ll just ask: is there anything you really want to say about the story but haven’t yet (like trivia or whatnot)?

(938 Seconds Per Second)

Probably that I'd very nearly abandoned it!

The idea started from an article I was reading about time dilation - the gist of it being "okay but what's to stop you from accelerating infinitely? Up to and past the speed of light?" and the conclusion was kind of "you sort of can... from YOUR frame, from YOUR perception of time, potentially. but from a resting frame, you will appear to only ever approach the speed of light." So even if you could perceive yourself traveling 100 light years in a month... to every resting body, 100 years have passed.

So I was like cool! Fucked up potential! I really liked the concept of "you can notice your mistake after 5 minutes and already be 100 years too late to fix it."

I toyed with a few ideas and ended up gravitating towards "what if one shipmate intentionally leaves another shipmate behind... and by the time this is discovered days later, the left-behind shipmate is long dead." I also settled on "what if your shipmate sucked so bad that he causes you to snap and leave him behind"

So I started writing with that as the core idea. Main character Mendoza has the Worst Coworker in the World Universe, and he snaps and leaves Carson behind on a planet.

...But then I was a little lost. I was struggling with the substance. The "what makes this interesting" and the "what ties this all together." Sure I could just write Carson being an ass for 3,000 words and then... Mendoza leaves him behind the end?

I was even struggling with the first draft because part of me was like "what's even enjoyable about reading about a completely insufferable person...?" Even Mendoza himself is no peach. Maybe the whole concept was just unpalatable. I kinda just... ditched it where it was.

Then I came back to it this weekend and decided to kind of rethink it, fresh. And the absolute biggest difference between the early stumbling draft and what I ended up with was Sampson. He actually solved so much. (He existed in the early draft, but not importantly.) He introduced the character stakes and the tying thread to the story I was missing.

Now it wasn't just Carson annoying Mendoza. Once Sampson's tome enters the story, the stakes change. Mendoza is now in the middle of Carson actively destroying the thing Sampson is even alive for. Mendoza is now in a position of actively needing to make choices--he could intervene and try to save Sampson's tome. He could tattle. He could do anything--but he doesn't. Because "not letting Carson win" is the single most important thing. Mendoza doesn't need to be any kind of hero. He chooses not to be.

And now the reader is captive to this conflict, privy to everything Mendoza knows, and does not act on, as Sampson unravels in the background.

And now we have a thread that leads to Carson and Mendoza ending up on-planet together. Carson isn't out there for shits and giggles, he's out there because the plot point about Sampson's tome led to this. Now Carson knows about the cargo, and now he's offering Mendoza the chance to not just be passive witness, but be accomplice to Sampson's destruction.

And it's enticing. It's unimaginable wealth, and it's getting off the shitty ship, and it's never seeing Carson again. Mendoza has the chance to stick to his every-man-for-himself ideals and go along with Carson. And it's interesting to explore Carson's reasoning for why they deserve this! They're the ones who sacrificed 300 years for this journey! Don't they deserve this over some fucker who wasn't even born when this mission started?

And then it reaches one pivotal moment--Carson's gleeful declaration that Sampson will totally kill himself once he discovers what they've stolen. Because now there are consequences to this action. If Mendoza follows through with this, it's with the knowledge that he's gotten Sampson killed. (And maybe he shouldn't care. Maybe it doesn't matter. As he's asserted this whole time.)

Mendoza doesn't do it. He pulls up the ladder after Carson.

He doesn't let Carson win.

And then the ending... the ending where Sampson very much was witness to Mendoza following Carson out of the ship. If Sampson were every-man-for-himself, he could just comply and tell Major Kensington what he saw. Mendoza knew Carson was outside the ship. Mendoza came back. Carson didn't. The ship took off. Sampson knows this all.

But, Sampson has an idea of what, may, have happened. He knows he accidentally revealed too much to Carson. He knows Carson stole the tome which contains information about the cargo. Sampson, maybe, knows what decision Mendoza made.

So Sampson lies to Kensington. Sampson will swear on his life he never saw Mendoza that evening. No one will ever know.

And just!!! It was delightful to find the piece that ties the WHOLE story through. It's not just "your coworker sucks and you booted him to live out 40 years on a planet for your next 2 weeks". It's character-driven now. It's about choices and consequences and the fucked up implications that the time-dilation travel throws in.

[3600frames]

Would you also consider looking over beika tweets for any new insights or maybe things the translation looks over?

[edit: made an easier-to-read version of my edits here]

ok this started getting MUCH longer than i expected so i'll put everything but the first one under the cut.

[...]and then after a little while, he told me that he had debuted with a band[...]

When I first read this and checked the JP text it seemed right but I’d also been looking for as many JP reactions to the booklet as I could possibly find and not a single one brought up anything akin to that… so checking the specific phrasing in the JP again

しばらくしてバンドデビューしたからっていうんで

The literal information being communicated being “band debut-did”, ending with a quoting particle (って) and “to say” (いう). “って言う” being a way of directly quoting a statement... when written in using the 言 kanji. When spelled only in hiragana (っていう), it can gain an alternate meaning of quoting hearsay (explained here, using the more formal と form). So with this definition, it’d be more like

[...]and then some time later, I heard about how he’d debuted with a band[...]

There’s a part of me that wondered if it’s supposed to be ambiguous, but there’s the fact I haven’t seen a single native speaker read it like that, and how it seems you only use the 言 for something Actually Said, and the fuller tweet in context:

ハイカラ行くって言いだして行って、しばらくしてバンドデビューしたからっていうんで

言 IS used for the “I’m going to Inkopolis” statement, which makes that seem like a direct quote, contrasting with the “[the band debut]” being something only heard about...I think.

オマージュじゃんてよく言われるけど、あんたらの曲ならこれぐらいカッコよくできますけど？ていうかこっちのほうが300倍よくね？って言ってるだけで、オマージュとかそういうのじゃねーから

Well, people often say it's a homage to their song, but any of you guys would be able to make a song that's just as cool. I mean our song is this one 300 times better, right? Just wanted to make it clear that we're not trying to pay homage to it or anything like that.

→ I get a lot of people thinking it’s an homage, but just for the record, I was only trying to express, like “If it’s you lots’ “music” we’re talking about, then obviously we could make it SO much cooler, y’know. I mean like, our version is 300 times better, right?”. That’s all. It wasn’t meant as a damn homage.

Okay I assume the “あんたらの曲なら” is what got interpreted as “any of you guys would be able to[...]” but I absolutely think it’s “snidely referring to the original song in a way that implies it has much room for improvement”. Also wanted to emphasize the “じゃねーから” at the end.

今のハイカラはスカしすぎてると思う。ただ、ちょっと昔だけど、フロムボトムは面白いかな。

I think the Inkopolis scene is too pretentious, but Bottom Feeders are pretty cool even though it's been a while since I've listened to them.

→ I think the Inkopolis scene has become way too pretentious. However, I know they’re kinda old news now, but those Bottom Feeder guys are pretty cool.

The JP had the interesting specification of that “pretentious” comment being made about the Inkopolis of now (今のハイカラ). Also, the ちょっと(a bit) 昔 comment was very much directed at Bottom Feeders, which on the JP side was very much seen as an audacious way to refer to presumably still-active artists. (...and that immediately being followed with courting a collab with someone of Finn’s temperament, the response was mostly along the lines of “oh you’re gonna get your ass whooped for that.”)

C-sideで、きかせてやりたいんだよ。バンカラだろうがハイカラだろうが、このごちゃまぜの時代に鳴り響く、ほんとにピュアな音

I'd like to play songs for everyone. No matter if they're from the Splatlands or Inkopolis, I want to create really fresh tunes that make people feel at home in this era of chaos.

→I want to play along with the rest of C-Side so you all can hear it. This truly pure sound that'll reverberate throughout this era of chaos, no matter whether it's the Splatlands or Inkopolis.

pure sound(?).

Fun JP-specific quirks that may give insights:

1) The overall speech patterns are very informal/colloquial (even more so while drunk), except for the “Now or Never is a C-Side original” statement which suddenly ends with the formal sentence ender です/desu.

Now or NeverはC-Sideのオリジナルです。 

2) I said in an earlier post that Beika uses ore in kanji which is true but specifically during the drunk-tweeting they use it in hiragana for it instead (おれ同中だから)... which doesn’t seem intentional on their part on both a consistency level and hiragana-ore being this kinda paradoxical thing where softness of using hiragana clashes with the tougher image of ore. So what I think happened is that they drunkenly didn’t bother/forgot to hit the input that turns it into kanji. Very specific I know.

3) The word they use to collectively refer to Squid Squad is 連中(renchuu) which is a very fun word where the connotations drastically change depending on who you’re using it for (very derogatory here).

4) I get why this didn’t get TL’d because both the dialogue and song name being the same syllabary lessens the impact, but it’s very funny to be so smug about typing out the whole song name after not remembering (or pretending not to) their band name multiple times…

じゃなんで連中のSplattack（合ってる？笑をC-Sideでカバーしたの、

…while also forgetting to close the bracket.

So, you’re probably wondering why we covered that Splattack (did I get it in one? LMAO song of theirs.

(also you forgot the exclamation mark so no you didn’t)

5) Definitely a case of “this works more naturally in JP”:

Oh, their music? Well, I guess it's not as bad as it used to be.

The ? in the JP doesn’t explicitly end the sentence in the JP (あいつらの音？は前よりマシ) so it could also be read with the connotation of:

Oh, well, I guess their music(?) isn’t as bad as it used to be.

Whatever That Means. Also the TL of it is good I just wanted to mention the “compliment” used is マシ, which has the implication of the less bad out of two undesirable options lol.

[infinity-lunacy]

Infinity Nikki: Diamond Activities

There have been a couple of posts over on r/InfinityNikki during the last two banners about how/where to get more diamonds for pulls. Figured it would be helpful to pull it all together in a quick tip post and a link to the Pear-fect Guides Diamond Guide!

Some helpful players have already done the wizardry (aka math) for you and created a Pulls Calculator!

Daily: Completing Daily Wishes nets you 90 diamonds a day (3 pulls every 4 days).

Biweekly: The Mira Crown Pinnacle Styling Contest resets every 2 weeks. Getting at least 21/24 stars = 800 diamonds! Very easy to complete once you have a 4-star or 5-star outfit in every style (Sweet/Sexy/Elegant/Cool/Fresh) glowed up (resets after every maintenance period) [Glow-Up Optimizer].

Monthly: The Mira Crown rewards shop and Tranquility Droplet exchange offer 3 crystals each every month (resets on the 1st day of the month).

Chests: There are chests stored all around the Wishfield and Fireworks Isle maps! They do not replenish, but you can track your progress using the official Miraland World Map (Click on [World Map (Closed Beta)] at the top of the webpage to access it.).

Minigames: You get 10 diamonds for every first clear + 30 diamonds for first perfect clear for every minigame on the map! The map adds checkmarks next to the flag icon for games you have already perfect cleared.

1.4 Revelry Season Event Diamonds:

Nonstop Revelry: Log in for 7 days before April 8th, 2025 to claim 10 Revelation Crystals.

There are 3 levels of the dancing minigame - Wishing Dance Moment - faewish, human, and special guest. (25 diamonds for clear, 45 diamonds for perfect clear, 210 diamonds for all 3 stages).

There are 7 levels of the platforming minigame - Illusion Zone - that unlock daily. (Play after completing the [Shine! Party King!] quest for 80 diamonds per level, total 560 diamonds for all 7 levels).

Mira Crown will reset on April 8 + Alison's Travel Shop will arrive and you'll be able to exchange for 5 Revelation Crystals.

Diamonds that are tucked away in menus & quests:

Check your Courses to see if there are any achievable ones you haven't gotten yet.

Outfits: Each completed 3-star sketch outfit sets - from Styling Faction battles and sketch chests - provides 10 diamonds in the compendium.

After you complete the Well of Fortune dungeon, there are additional broken lampposts scattered around Florawish. Repair for 30 diamonds each (does not refresh, find by running around Florawish with your ability set to Electrician).

You can exchange dews of inspirations for diamonds and other rewards with Kilo the Dragon for up to 36 levels.

On the Fireworks Isles, you can exchange whim balloons and dews for diamonds with Vita on Fireworks Isle. As of 1.4, the official map also tracks chests, dews, and whim balloons on the Fireworks Isles!

The Firework Isles also have an optional quest to unseal the cavern doors in every cave for a room full of chests and lore!

If you haven't talked to Ciceto - the box game npc in Florawish - he has additional diamonds for completing the sets when you talk to him. Click all of his conversation options to make sure you get all of them.

As of 1.4, Eureka color sets (head + hands + feet) give 30 diamonds each in the Compendium! Navigate to Outfit compendium > Exploration Season > Radiant whim > Eureka collection.

Getting your lore and creature compendium to 100% might push you over to the next compendium level (30 diamonds per level).

The above are all f2p (free to play) tips, but if you are willing to pay to play a little:

The $5 monthly pass provides 90 diamonds a day (2700 total) + 300 stellarites. Very good bang for your buck for pulls and if you are tempted to buy any of the cheaper store outfits!!

The $10 battle pass Distant Anthem - Mira Journey upgrade - total rewards are: 1360 diamonds, 10 energy crystals (800 total vital energy), 4 Revelations crystals, 960k bling, 3.3K shiny bubbles, 3.3K threads of purity, 1.3K shining particles, AND a unique momo cloak. (It gives you rewards for whatever Mira Journey level you are currently on, so personally I don't buy unless I hit level 50.)

I've never bought Miracle Epic, but it's an additional $10 for 980 Stellarite, 10 energy crystals (800 total vital energy), and a unique avatar frame.

Tip: Don't bother exchanging stellarite directly for revelation (pink) crystals. The exchange is awful and not worth your money. Save stellarite for store outfits and items instead!

The pull packs in the store can be a good deal. If you purchase on PC using Epic, the Epic store has cashback rewards that will usually amount to $1-3 which is enough to purchase the cheapest packs.

[horsegamergirl]

The Equestrian Festival!

The most prestigious festival of the year has returned!

It Begins!

The Equestrian Festival is all about glitz, glamour, and prestigious competitions. Whether this is your first visit to the festival, or you’ve attended every year, you’re more than welcome to take part in all the activities! Visit the festival sites in Moorland and Jorvik Stables to begin exploring it all. Tan is standing by the Moorland site, ready to kick you off on a little tour!

Updates to Jorvik Stables!

We can’t have one of the main spots of the festival looking too outdated now, can we? That’s why the Jorvik Stables has been given a fresh visual update! New textures and some updated greenery will help the festival feel all the bit as fancy as it is. The Jorvik Stables Championship has also gotten some love! The championship is now a part of JERC - the Jorvik Elite Racing Committee - and has not only gotten a stylish new starting area, but also a lot of fun, new visuals along the race track. Try it out, and see how quick you can be!

Champion Ranks!

To celebrate our beloved championships during the festival, we are also welcoming another season of Champion Ranks! Enter championships, earn points based on your results, and collect the ultra stylish ribbons in this Equestrian Festival-themed season. The champion ranks are active until May 7th.

Impress the Baroness!

As per her yearly tradition, the Baroness is looking for the absolute best of the best of all equestrians out there. This year is no exception, but it is going to be tougher than ever! You will truly have to show your skills over the next four weeks if you want to be rewarded… Speak to Godfrey at the Jorvik Stables Arena to get started. Good luck, and may the best equestrian win! 

Treasure Hunt!

Get your exploration gear on! Lily Bones is waiting for you at Jorvik Stables, and together with Stephanie and Petunia she has planned for a fun adventure - it is time for a spring treasure hunt! Speak to them to get started, and keep your eyes peeled for shiny treasures… As the festival progresses, the treasure hunt will expand!

New Stable Customizations!

Feeling inspired by the regal styles of the festival? The Stable Customization catalogue has just been updated, and is now filled with baroque styles, packed with gorgeous details and lovely greenery. There is also a brand new category under the Moorland Theme - Stall Floor! Now you can pick and choose what type of floor and bedding your horses should sleep on. You can find the catalogue in the window to the vanity room in your home stable. Enjoy!

Two Token Sets!

Looking for something new to wear? You can find two new sets in the Token Goods store in the festival areas! Use your spring tokens to trade in for the items of two lovely sets. One is inspired by Silverglade's vineyard, the Grapevine Chic set, and it will bring you an air of equestrian legacy wherever you go! Or maybe you’re more interested in springing to life with the youthful Buttercup set? It is a nod to the first sign of sunny days returning!

Horse Retirements!

It’s time to say goodbye to our next set of old friends! On the Wednesday update on May 21st, the Gen 2 Hanoverian and the Gen 2 Welsh Pony will leave Jorvik for greener pastures! After this date they will be removed from the game and not be sold again, but any horses purchased before then will remain safely in your stables!

They are both sold at Marleys Vintage Barn. The Hanoverian is sold for 300 Star Coins, and the Welsh Pony is sold for 200 Star Coins

Coming NEXT WEEK!

The festivities continue!

[the-blind-assassin-12]

WIP whatever day it is

After a long and depressing drought I am finally making some progress with my writing again (those 300 word valentine's day drabbles shook the rust off!) so I can finally share some snippets!

Over the last *checks notes* 3.5 weeks *gulp, sorry!* I was tagged in wip posts by @sp00kymulderr @grogusmum and @maggiemayhemnj but had nothing at all to share, but I'm fixing that now! Thanks for the tags friends!

Going with one long snippet from Dagger - my very late entry in @jolapeno's Dearuary event that I am aiming to finish next:

It was true that you had become a jewel in CMI’s crown in regards to closing piracy cases and making sure that mining protocols for safety, productivity and loss prevention were being carried out. But there were still some who remembered  how you came to work at the bureau in the first place. There were still some who called you a poacher, a pirate, a backstabber. There were some who cherished any chance they got to remind you - or anyone who would listen - that you only had your job because you had been caught violating mining law on Bahkroma Green, and that you were hired as part of a dated program that sought to get inside the minds of the criminals they were tracking down. Of the twenty agents hired through that program, you were the only one who hadn’t returned to illegal activities, the only one who hadn’t somehow used your position to feed information to anyone on the outside. And some at the bureau said it was only a matter of time before you did the same. 

Which was why this report specifically could not wait for your arrival on Yonto. You didn’t want anyone catching wind that it involved Aurelac, the very gems you had once been guilty of stealing, and then hear that you had waited to file the report. That would look fishy. 

You cast another downwards glance at the bag of gems balanced on your leg as you set the laptop on the shuttle tray table. How did these… You licked your lips as blueish light streaked across the windows of the craft. How did these get here? 

Like any prospector, you’d know your first pull anywhere. You were looking at the fuck-nugget gems that you had scored over a decade ago, back when you were running with a pirate crew out in the Fringe. But I left these with Ezra. So how… 

Your computer finished booting up and you shook your head to clear your thoughts. Doesn’t matter right now. First, you needed to keep up appearances, which meant filing the report. But you needed to do it in a way that framed the incident as harmless so that it didn’t attract more attention from other agents. 

And to buy myself time to get to the bottom of this. 

Cracking your fingers, you opened a fresh report document, and then began typing. 

Field Report #0473 Sector: Lau  Planet/Moon: Lau Prime  CMI Respondent: Insp. Fagan  PB Registration #xxxx-7593 Date: 02/04/3096 Priority Level: Low 

Reason: Unauthorized raw materials (Aurelac pearls, grade C and lower) found at Central Mining owned site in Cobalt Bay. 

Observations: Glossoil miners contacted CMI when they came across four mid-sized, low quality Aurelac pearls that they claim appeared to be “left there on purpose”. I was escorted by the site manager to the pump station where they were found. It should be noted that the site manager and shift workers complied fully with the investigation.

There were indeed four pearls on the ground near the pump controls, however their placement did not seem intentional but random. The pearls were all extremely clouded, though smooth. Initial scans showed no prints on the gems or on any surface nearby. 

No damage was done to CM property or assets, and nothing has been reported as missing or stolen. 

Security footage of the area showed no trespassers. Black and white footage was clear, though did appear to glitch for <1 second, but no change in light, shadow or clarity was detected. 

Analysis: Based on my own observations, accounts given by crew that found the pearls, security footage and quality of the gems (black market/unregistered provenance) it is likely that the pearls were dropped by a crew member unknowingly. Given their low value, it is not, in this inspector’s opinion, a case that warrants further investigation at this time. 

Suggested Action: Continue to monitor security footage. Weekly check-in video calls with Cobalt Bay Refinery manager for three months. If three months pass without incident, discontinue check-in protocol. 

Additional Comments: None at this time. 

You read your write-up once more. It seemed innocuous and bland enough, but not too sparse. It would be sufficient for your boss, anyway, and that was really all that mattered. 

It would also be the first time that you had ever intentionally lied on a report. 

You knew without a doubt that the gems had been left at the Cobalt Bay facility on purpose, and you knew that purpose was to get your attention, not CMI’s. You knew the glitch in the security footage was cause for concern, or at the very least, further investigation. And you knew that these specific gems - worthless as they were - resurfacing meant that the only scenario in which you would abuse your station like your rivals at the bureau said you would was playing out. 

Ezra’s alive. 

Your heart slammed at your ribs. 

And I have to find him before they do.

-- --

I'm having fun with this one! It's going to be told through a combination of chat messages, field reports, letters (and possibly more!) and standard narration. The Prospect universe is always going to be one of my favorite sandboxes to play in, and I'm fully letting myself get carried away here.