#and those are just the ones that travel with them

[captainkirkk]

I wish you would write a time travel au a la journey to the past with atla and the kids reckoning with a future not only where things are *good* but they're besties with fire lord zuko

Early Book 3 gaang accidentally pisses off a powerful spirit who retaliates by throwing them at the feet of the Fire Lord - just not the current Fire Lord. Maybe another spirit intervenes to save them. Maybe the spirit is just bad at using their immense power and overshot it. Maybe the spirit just thought it'd be funny. Either way, the gaang come face to face with Fire Lord Zuko sitting in his own bedroom, almost 30 years and still dressed in his sleep robes.

Safe to say it doesn't go well.

Katara freezes Zuko to his bedroom wall and they high tail it out of the Fire Palace. No one tries to fight them. The guards stationed at the palace walls see them coming and open the gates for them?? Sokka swears one of them wished him a good morning as they ran by?? And greeted him by name????

It takes them a while to figure out what's going on, and then even longer before they actually believe it. The townsfolk are happy and thriving in a way Aang remembers from before Sozin's reign. There's no whispers of war. No double-takes at their brightly coloured clothing. No guards chasing them down. And everywhere, on every street corner, they talk about Zuko.

Zuko eventually tracks them down, alone and unarmed. He's so different to the angry 16yo they remember. Older, and calmer, and kinder. And when the gaang refuses to return to the Fire Palace (because there's NO WAY they're going to fall for that trap, nuh uh, no way), Zuko decides to come with them. They try to argue- until he pulls out his heavy coin purse and offers to bank-roll their journey.

And that's how the teenage gaang ends up on roadtrip with the future Fire Lord.

The gaang are VERY distrustful and angry and occasionally aggressive. They're traumatised kids displayed over a decade in time (for Aang, it's the SECOND time he's been displayed in time, and it's bringing up a lot of trauma he never got a chance to deal with). Zuko draws on everything he's learnt from Uncle. He's patient and doesn't push. He lets them rage and doesn't raise to the bait when they throw Ozai or Azula in his face. And eventually, they come to open up and trust him - first Aang and Toph, then eventually Sokka and Katara. The gaang get to journey with an adult they can actually trust, who doesn't patronise them or expect them to be soldiers. Someone reliable.

Internally, Zuko is extremely freaked out by the baby versions of his friends, but he's doing his best not to let that show. He always knew they were too young for war, but having to stare at their little faces every day? God.

Also: Please picture the reactions of everyone else who encounters this ragtag group as they search for answers on how to send the baby!gaang home. Are those extremely stressed out kids okay?? Why is one of them cosplaying the Avatar? ........Is that the Fire Lord sitting with them????

[thedeadtalker]

-my grandfather was 8 when he and his family were rounded up on the Oregon coast, kept in a livestock pen for 3 very rainy days, then put into a cattle car to be carried out to the reservations in the east.

-my grandmother had two brothers and sister who were sent to mission school and never returned. They said they ran away. They lied.

-My mom remembers when Indians got enough citizenship to vote in Oregon. She describes her parents and their friends discussing if the should do it -vote -or if it was trick to register them.

-My friend took his grandmother out for her 100th birthday. He asked her what she thought were the most important things to happen during her lifetime. She told him: free wifi and the legal end of segregation.

-I remember those fucking nuns in mission school. I only went 1 year when the laws changed and we could go to other schools. We could live with our parents and ride a bus to school and back again and sleep that night in our own home. I remember that, you fuckers.

-I remember that my mom and two of her sisters gave birth in a hospital connected to the mission, and they didnt know for years that they'd gotten botched steralizations against their wishes and without their knowledge. I remember my parents desperatly trying to have more children. Theyd always wanted a bunch of kids. The house my dad built had many empty guestrooms. Eventually they sold it. I remember my mom having to have a hysterectomy 2 years ago because of all the health problems caused by the fucked up surgery. I remember sitting in a meeting and one of the nurses there having to put me through a fainting protocol because i got a text from my stepfather that during the hysterectomy they discovered one of mom's damned ovaries was just fucking gone. I wonder sometimes if some sick fuck retired doctor kept a genuine Indian ovary in a jar in his office. I wonder if his nazi kids and grandkids pull it out to show to guests as a conversation point. I think about how whites were paid piecework for Indian scalps amd seeing one dried out and leathery in an antique store in a small town in Idaho. There is evil in the Americas. The nazis were here long before they were ever in Europe.

- I remember my highschool history teacher showing us the number tattooed on his wrist. I remember him showing us all these recordings of ordinary German citizens talking about how they didn't see anything wrong happening. How there must have been some sort of perfecrly mundane reason for the endless smoke pouring from the ovens in the camp up in the hill. How it was all just politics. How they were reassured that all the people who were taken had just moved in the night, or were much happier wherever they'd gone to. "But you saw them all: the Jews, the other prisoners going into the camp. But you never saw them leave. Didn't you think that was odd?" "We just figured they'd moved from the camp in the night while we were sleeping." "Where?" "What do you mean?" "Where did you all think they went -in the middle of the night?" "Oh. We didn't know." "Didn't you wonder?" "Why would we?"

- I remember that same teacher explaining how the nazis had gotten a lot of their ideas from the US government's Native American policy. The death camps were modelled after our reservations. The dehumanizing and the stories of savages/gremlins that ate white babies and were less than human were based on the clever marketing campaign set up to not just enable the settler take over, but used to unite the fragmented people of newly forming colonial nation. He fucking showed us. There is publically available documentation of all of this.

-I remember getting put on the no fly list. I remember finding out about it because when we tried to buy tickets for the whole family to travel down to New Mexico for my granduncle's funeral the whole purchase was bounced. We were told why that might be the case so we tried seperate purchases for everyone. Me. It was me. Several years later my roommate's family friend -an old white guy with some pull, found out why. I was teaching K-3 and moonlighting as a computer programmer back then. And I'd printed some photos of holidays around the world to share with my students on the same computer I wrote code from. My own computer, in my own office, in my own home. He said it also didn't help that I wasn't white.

-I remember that fucker's first time in office: I remember seeing my coworker snatched from the elevator by ice agents and shoved into an unmarked van. He was a 3rd generation American.

-I remember having to warn the non-white, non-abled, non anything a nazi would want to gas you for residents of the dvsat shelter we worked with to not go out at night, not go out alone, not walk on these specific streets or go into these specific shops. I remember the time a native Hawaiian chick on my caseload didn't come back when expected and everyone was out of their mind with worry. She came back, tear-streaked and shaking, and told us about how she'd gotten lost (not in Hawaii any more, Dorothy) and ended up in one of the neighborhoods she was supposed to avoid, and being chased by some of the proud boys that patrolled our city streets in their ridiculous be-flagged pickups, and how some nearby restuarant diners had rushed her into the restuarant, and the staff there had hid her in the pantry, and all the diners lied and said they hadn't seen her. My teacher read Anne Frank to us in 6th grade. Do they still read that in schools?

-I think about that time I went into a DMV and the woman behind the counter told me to "sit over there," next to two men, and well away from the other patrons. Then a highway patrol officer came over and told us to go with him. In the parking lot he explained that he'd been called to take us to an immigration detention center. But instead he directed us to a "safe" DMV 40 miles away and walked away muttering about having had it up to here with those idiots in there. The two American Samoan men started laughing. Honestly, I didn't feel like laughing. I didn't feel like anything. I was thinking about the mission school and wondering if the detention center looked like it had.

-I've spent the last couple of weeks handing out flyers in different languages. I don't use an interpreter. I have no way of knowing if I can trust them. But somehow I manage to convey to the people I visit in field hand huts and steamy laundries that they are in a sanctuary state and what that means. That no one in our offices will turn them away or turn them in. At least I hope Im conveying that. Then I tell them, using paper language dictionaries if needed (librarians are superheros) how to get away, who to talk to, how to find the big dipper. I think a lot of my high school history teacher and those faded numbers on his wrist.

Oh I know they're coming for me first. Im your canary.

[odoraful]

𝑺𝑵𝑶𝑾𝑭𝑰𝑬𝑳𝑫 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑲 ᯓ 𝒁𝑨𝒀𝑵𝑬

the physician does not open his grand estate to visitors, however, he makes an exception for a special someone he’s known since childhood

⟡ content: reader is addressed as 'miss'; regency era inspired (certainly not historically accurate); reader and zayne are awkward yearners for each other; 3.5k wc

⟡ a/n: the mr darcy to zayne pipeline is very real to me !! did i watch pride and prejudice for the 234th time because of this? yes i did hehe i hope you enjoy mwah!

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Whilst many other gentleman in the country wished to show off their homes to display their refinement to the public, the solitary owner of Snowfield Park could not think of anything more undesirable. It was truly a shame, though. The estate had received its name from how picturesque it looked during the winters. Fresh snow fell in perfectly smooth blankets around the property, and dusted the foliage of trees as if intentionally painted on by an artist. When morning light emerged, and the snow began to melt away, the grand home would sparkle like sequins on a debutante’s dress.

Those who travelled past Snowfield Park could only admire it from a distance when heading to the next town over—rolling along on their carriages or leisurely walking by. What a waste it was, they all thought, to not allow visitation from guests and host lavish balls as often as one could. They all wondered whether the owner was even in his right mind.

He is a physician, that is the reason. He hardly has time to indulge in what he believes are frivolities.

A physician? How noble! He must be someone of great intelligence.

Indeed. I believe his name is Dr Zayne.

Quite the severe fellow I must admit. I remember during the last ball, the gentleman did nothing but loiter and offered a dance to no one.

Merely loitering? Goodness, has there truly been no one that has caught the man’s eye?

I wonder who is fortunate enough to be acquainted with him and be allowed visitation to such a place.

That was how many of the conversations that passed Snowfield Park went. Little did people know, other than the owner’s most immediate family, there was one other special person who the owner invited over.

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“Miss, you’re telling me you’re acquainted with the gentleman residing in Snowfield Park?” the driver of your carriage asked, speaking each word in disbelief.

You nodded. “Yes, I am.”

Your body also bobbed along with each trod of the horse. The carriage was open air, only able to seat two people, yourself and the driver. Much to your chagrin, your plain reply left the driver guffawing.

“You sure you’re not one of the many admirers trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive man?”

Glancing at the driver’s side profile, you could see him wiggle his brows. The driver was a young man, barely out of his teenage years, who had a penchant for dramatics.

“Certainly not!” you exclaimed, more defensive than your intended.

If the driver had not been so focused on the path ahead, he would have seen your cheeks turn pink.

“We have been good friends since childhood,” you asserted, “and just happened to drift apart when he went to university to study, that is all.”

The driver gave a sound of understanding, though, he still seemed unconvinced by your explanation.

It was completely true though. Your families lived in neighboring estates, and they endeavored to meet often when they found out they had children of similar ages. Many of your memories in youth had Zayne in them. Reading together in your grandmother’s study (Zayne reading aloud the narration, and you tasked with the dialogue for the characters), foraging for flowers and cataloguing them in your shared notebook, practicing your piano forte whilst Zayne completed anatomy sketches (with you often as the subject).

When he went to study medicine, you both sent letters to each other in those initial months. However, with your desire to seek your own passions (and your grandmother’s concerns over your entrance into society), and Zayne’s own pursuit of his career, the length of time between letters grew longer and longer.

Head swimming with memories, you stared off into the countryside. Tall trees that lined the dirt path segmented the bright afternoon sunlight as the carriage rolled past a long stretch of river. Far, far ahead, you saw a glimpse of Snowfield Park. No other details could be made out aside from that it was an impressive estate. You wondered if you could predict Zayne’s taste in design. Surely there would be a well maintained garden and a wide staircase leading to the front doors.

The driver could not ride fully into Snowfield Park as he had business in the next town he needed to attend to. You happily agreed to being dropped off a little ways before, just as the trees began to clear. The weather was pleasant, and it would take no longer than half an hour to walk. The driver pulled on the reins, causing the horses to slow to a stop. He hopped off first, moving to your side to assist you in getting down.

“Thank you,” you said as you smoothed out the skirt of your dress with your hands.

He gave an exaggerated bow. “You’re most welcome, miss. I hope Mr Zayne treats you well,” he winked, then hoisted himself back up onto the carriage.

Waving him goodbye, the carriage went on ahead to the next town over.

You were still quite a ways from the estate itself, left with a distance of grassy field to cross before it transformed into neatly sanded paths and a garden. Though, it was too small from where you were to make out any details. Thankfully, you enjoyed to walk.

As you set off, you checked the small purse dangling from your wrist. It contained your personal belongings, including the very thing that summoned you to Snowfield Park to begin with. A letter from Zayne lay neated folded inside.

Taking a deep breath, you began your journey on foot.

The closer you walked, and the more the house expanded in your view, the greater your heart twisted in your chest.

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Zayne’s home was even grander in real life than what you had imagined.

There was certainly a garden. One that stretched out well beyond the home’s facade, with neatly trimmed hedges, pristine white flowers and a three-tiered marble fountain. You walked through, gently reaching out to touch the petals of flowers. And there was certainly a staircase. Two to be exact, lined with railings carved from stone supported by miniature pillars. Both were built from the ground floor up to the first level, creating separate entryways from two different levels.

The estate was meticulously maintained and so peaceful. Only the wind and the trickle of water from the fountain could be heard. This type of serenity seemed fitting for Zayne.

You chose to walk up the stairs, heading toward the main entrance with ornate double doors. Your breath grew uneven with each step. It was inexplicable how rattled your nerves were at that very moment. What could possibly rouse your anxiety? You did not harbor any ill feelings towards Zayne. Quite the contrary, in fact. Back then, and even now, despite the length of time without contact, you were fond of him.

Rationalizing all this in your mind, you tried to bury your nervousness just as you reached the front doors. Grasping the knocker, you gave three firm knocks, hoping it sufficient enough to signal any occupants of Snowfield Park.

You readied yourself if Zayne himself would open the door for you. It was unlikely, but not entirely impossible. Typically, there would be servants that would initially greet guests. But, perhaps, the owner of the estate would alter convention for an old friend.

The door swung open and you subconsciously held your breath.

The person by the door seemed a bit older than you. She wore a simple dress with an apron tied around it, hair held back by a white bonnet. You exhaled. Conventions remain ever unchanging, you thought, putting on a shy smile.

“Uhm, good afternoon, my name is Y/N. I’m here to visit Mr Zayne.”

The lady looked you over up and down with her discerning eyes. Her brief inspection completed, her skeptical gaze gave way to a warm and inviting grin.

“Please come in! Mr Zayne has been expecting your arrival.”

You relaxed with relief, stepping in and getting a first look at Snowfield Park that many so desired to.

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Compared to your own abode with your family, the interior of this seemed to be fit for royalty.

The room had gold framed portraits of various people and landscapes hung on its cream colored walls. Ornate gold decorations filled the bare spaces in between each painting, reminiscent of leaves which curved and stretched towards the ceiling. The sunlight pouring through the large windows made each metallic embellishment shine. Tables held bronze candelabras with unlit candles and vases with arrangements of different florals. Lounges and chairs with navy upholstery lined the edges of the room, ideal places to sit and idle. Beyond you and to your sides were open archways, where you saw a peek of the winding staircases that led deeper into the home.

You tried your best to not just stand there slack-jawed at the entrance and follow the servant further inside. Was this really the estate that Zayne owned? The same Zayne who picked carrots off his plate at dinnertime and spent his allowance at the candy store in town?

The servant let you catch up to her in center of the room. She leaned in close to whisper, even though you were the only people in this vast space.

“Miss, just between you and me, Mr Zayne has been quite restless these past few days.”

“Restless?” you frowned. “Whatever for?”

She nodded towards you. Her implication that you were the object of Zayne’s anxieties made you even more confused.

“You must be a very special person to rattle him like that. He’s been pacing around, inspecting and re-inspecting all the furnishings in every room, buying fresh linens for your guest quarters.”

She then chuckled. “Quite frankly, it’s refreshing to see such a side of him since he’s so often busy with his work.”

“Speaking of, that is what he is currently occupied with now. I’ll let him know that you’re here.”

The servant curtsied to you before rushing through one of the archways. The sound of her footsteps on tiled floors retreated.

There was nothing to do but wait, and so you did.

You took a turn around the room, admiring the paintings of unfamiliar people and unfamiliar landscapes. Did Zayne know who these individuals were? Had he travelled to different parts of this country? You were now uncertain if the man you would shortly reunite with would even be recognizable to you.

One minute of waiting turned into three, then ten, then fifteen. You could probably recite the arrangement of paintings in the room with how much studying you were doing to fill the time. Looking off ahead of you, the entryways were a silent invitation to explore. Surely the servant wouldn’t mind that you had wandered off a little bit. She certainly hadn’t said anything against doing so.

Your feet moved of their own accord into the entry way ahead of you, eager to see more of the interior of Snowfield Park.

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“Mr Zayne,” Yvonne called as she knocked on the door of the study.

Zayne was penning a letter containing care instructions to the family of one of his patients.

He continued to write as he called out, “You may come in.”

Entering the room, the excitement on Yvonne’s face at being able to announce your arrival was replaced with horror as she saw Zayne.

“Mr Zayne! Have you not changed into your finer clothes yet?”

Zayne glanced up from his writing with a furrow in his brow. He was wearing his night clothes, a simple loose fitting white shirt, pants, and a robe. His dark hair lightly tousled from a restless night of sleep.

“I have not. Y/N isn’t due to Snowfield Park until the afternoon.”

Yvonne gaped at him, her voice high with alarm. “It is the afternoon now, Mr Zayne. And she has arrived not just a moment ago.”

The quill almost fell from Zayne’s grasp at his own shock. It was terribly unlike him to forget the time. His plans of burying himself in his work to keep his mind busy from your arrival had backfired on him.

He immediately stood up. Folding the letter and placing it aside, he strode towards Yvonne.

“She’s here? The time must have escaped me.” He ran a hand through his hair, attempting to steady his composure.

The day that he had perfectly planned had already sidetracked. You were here in his house and he was hiding away in his study in his undergarments. Outfit aside, was there even enough time to ready himself mentally as well? This was the first in a long time that he would be seeing you face-to-face, he hadn’t even thought of what he should say to you.

“Well don’t just stand there all flustered!” Yvonne huffed, piercing through Zayne’s thoughts. “You need to get changed right this instant!”

She scrambled behind Zayne and pushed him out of the study.

“It’s improper to leave such a lovely young lady waiting for so long! Come on now, Mr Zayne!”

He followed Yvonne through the familiar halls of Snowfield Park to his rooms. She spoke her thoughts aloud, deciding on what shirt, waistcoat and cravat would look the most appealing. He agreed with her that navy and white would make a suitable combination, though, Zayne had greater worries aside from the coordination of his clothes.

Five years it had been.

Five years since he went away to study at university and begun working as a physician.

Five long years of being away from you.

Gradually, you two had begun to drift apart like the slow moving of continents over centuries. Starting with a delayed letter, leading to a delayed response. The lengthy time between correspondence began to feel too awkward, leaving words unsaid. Once you had shared all the same experiences together, and now, you had become a fond daydream for Zayne. An occupant of his thoughts whenever the nights got too long for him. How were you? What were you doing now? Were you taking care of your health? Thinking of you seemed to soothe him.

That was why when there was a listing for an estate in the same village you both grew up in, he hardly hesitated in his decision to purchase it. Internally, he also saw it as a sign. If this were to be the place were he settled down, he knew he needed to invite you to visit.

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Snowfield Park could have easily been mistaken for a museum if one were to end up in the room you were in now. Not only were there more paintings hung on the walls, much like the entry hall, but there were sculptures, antiques and other unique trinkets on display as well. All were neatly spread out, with brass plaques beneath to provide a description of the piece. Too fascinated by the space, you forgot how much waiting time passed since the servant left.

One piece in particular caught your eye.

A sculpted bust of a man sat atop a pedestal, raising it up to your eye level. With a straight bridged nose and stern brows, the face would leave many people with a rather cold impression. Shivers winding up their spine by the frigidity of the sculpted likeness. Not you, however. Warmth bloomed within your chest. Lips parted in amazement. Many of the features remained the same, though refined with age. It was a familiar and cherished image of a close companion.

Zayne. Your Zayne.

Before you could stop yourself, your hand reached out. Closer and closer. Just until the pads of your finger barely ghosted against the cheek of Zayne’s face.

Hearing a step behind you, you instantly retracted your hand. Snapped out of your stupor.

“Y/N.”

You never thought your name could be spoken so gently until that moment. The origin was a low and smooth voice, like a spoonful of honey one would dissolve in a cup of tea.

Turning around with wide eyes, a name fell from your lips.

“Zayne,” you breathed.

In the quietness of the room, even your faint utterance of his name echoed in the space.

Zayne could have took you for one of the art pieces in this space with how well you looked. An ivy green dress with a grey shawl draped over your arms. You had traded elegance for practicality, leaving your gowns for balls at home so you could walk more freely. Still, the breath hitched in his throat as he looked you over.

His posture straightened before he bowed. “I’m sorry for frightening you.”

When he lifted his head, you noted how he blinked away from your gaze towards the ground. A habit he had as a young boy that he kept even now. Seeing it comforted you, though you could not understand why.

“I did not mean to disturb. I should have made my appearance known to you sooner.”

An apology. Those were his first words upon your meeting. You knew he had always been like that. Ensuring his intentions were made clear and rectifying anything that he misinterpreted. Aside from his manner, it was his appearance that also made your stomach flutter.

Both his coat and vest were navy, though the latter item was patterned subtly with white stripes. Tied neatly around his collar was a white cravat which accentuated his strong jawline. What was most striking were his eyes. Green and amber, resembling a precious gemstone. You didn’t remember them being so entrancing.

You shook your head (both in response to his apology and to dispel your meddlesome thoughts), and curtsied.

“It’s alright, truly. I was already at the end of my viewing anyway.”

He moved closer to you, each step reverberating. Your heart thumped traitorously in your ears. You hoped he didn’t notice how you stiffened when he reached your side.

“You seemed engrossed,” he said, looking over at his own sculpture.

“W-were you perturbed by my staring?”

His eyes brimmed with earnest as he replied, “No, no, not at all. That is a galley’s purpose. These artworks are displayed to be looked at.”

He hesitated, thinking about his words before continuing. “Though, I would hope that a… prolonged viewing indicates your favor towards a certain piece.”

You grew hot. Had your admiration really been so obvious?

“This is really a lovely home, nicer than anything I’ve had the pleasure of visiting” you said, quickly changing the subject.

A small smile tugged at his lips. People would quickly change their opinions about his coldness if they were to see the expression on his face.

“My staff are to thank for their work in its upkeep,” he responded. “I’m glad it is to your liking.”

Neither of you spoke for a moment. Mere seconds that felt like eternity as you stood side by side, fiddling with the material of your respective clothing, as if they were the most attention grabbing thing in this very room. You played with the hem of your shawl whilst Zayne adjusted the wrists of his jacket.

“Was your journey here smooth?”

The question tumbled out of Zayne more hurried than he intended. Desperation tinged his words, almost pleading you to continue talking to him. He wanted to hear your voice. Wanted to hear you speak to him about anything, like you once could together.

“It was. I rode a carriage from town then walked,” you replied, brightly. “I went through the garden at the front on my way to the entrance, as well.”

“The jasmines are in bloom now, as are many of the other flowers. I can give you a more proper tour later on, if you’d like.”

“I would enjoy nothing more,” you chirped, unable to temper your excitement. “I remember jasmines were your favorite when you were younger.”

His gaze fell on you, voice wistful and sincere as he spoke. “They still are, very much so.”

Two images seemed to flicker before you. The boy you once knew, and the man standing before you now. Perhaps the two were never separate. There would always be traces of your youth together, no matter when or where you found each other. This realization entered your mind with tenderness, much like the words of a loving mother doting on her child.

Again, the conversation lulled.

The statues and paintings were stationery witnesses to the endearing awkwardness of this pair reunited. Neither of you had the courage to look at each other, lest you revealed the flush that spread across both your faces. With nothing but Snowfield Park and time to yourselves, there would be much catching up to do.

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[monstersflashlight]

A/N: Hi there! For those who don’t know, first part is here. (If that link doesn't work, try suscribing for free to Patreon and check this one) Enjoy! REPOSTED

Orc professor (part 2): late for class

Orc x chubby fem!reader || power dynamics, dom/sub undertones, exhibitionism (kinda), oral sex, size kink, age gap, degradation, praise kink

“If you want to show me your pussy, my cum better be leaking out of it. Do you understand?”

His words still echoed in your brain when you were getting dressed the next morning. You were already wet, and you fingered yourself to the memory of his dick in your pussy last evening. You were a bit sore, but the fact that you could still feel him made everything more intense, hotter… sexier. And it made everything so much better.

You decided to wear your pencil skirt this time, and blame it on your bad luck, but you spilled your coffee all over it. Cursing yourself, you changed as fast as possible, but not fast enough that you could get to class early as you knew you should.

By the time you arrived, he was writing something on the board. “Good morning, sir,” you enunciated very slowly, looking at him for directions as you saw the other few students entering behind you.

He turned around and stared at you with such intensity you felt your whole body react. You were almost panting, biting your lip not to groan out loud. “Good morning. You can sit down while I go to my office for a second.”

The other two students nodded and he passed you on his way to the door. He looked at you in such a way that you knew what you had to do without him having to say anything. You let your stuff on your usual seat and smiled at the girl who sat next to you, mumbling about going to get some coffee before class. She nodded with a smile and you had to stop yourself from running to his office.

You arrived just in time for him to pull you inside by the waist, pressing you against the door and kissing you senseless just like he did yesterday, his tusks feeling incredible against your jaw. His hands were traveling up and down your body, groping your ass and your thighs as he grunted against your lips.

“Fuck,” he whispered against your lips, pulling back and passing his hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture. “You were late. And I thought you regretted what happened yesterday. I was freaking out, little human. And then you walked out like nothing happened looking hot enough to eat and smelling like me… Good goddess. Do you know what you do to me?” He pressed his hips against your middle and you moaned at the feel of his huge hard on.

“I- I can feel it,” you stuttered, your voice quivering when his hands squeezed your ass, parting your cheeks and letting one of his fingers rub over your lace covered asshole.

“You have no idea. And now I can’t even fuck you properly. I can’t ruin you the way I want because you were late.” He punctuated each word with a squeeze and a roll of his hips. You panted, so horny you were about to burst and he didn’t even touch you. “Goddess, you smell so fucking good…” He whispered, burying his face on your neck and inhaling deeply.

“I’m sorry… I- I spilled coffee on my skirt and had to change and then I forgot a book and have to open the door again and…” Your rambling was interrupted by his lip covering yours again, swallowing your explanation as he grunted, his hands massaging your ass-cheeks once again.

“What do you have after my class?” He asked, his breathing labored, almost desperate.

“A couple more classes,” you told him, mentally checking if you could skip any of them. But you knew you couldn’t. You knew you shouldn’t. You were a damn good student… Even if you were fucking your way through one of your subjects.

“Shit.” He passed his hand through his hair again, messing it up and making you want to whimper. “Okay, okay. I have classes after lunch, but I’ll be here around four-ish. Does that work for you?” You nodded fervently. “Okay, I expect you to show me how sorry you really are for being late and depriving me from what I was promised.”

“I can… I can give you my panties now,” you offered, feeling the lace sticking to your pussy lips like a second skin because you were that wet.

“I don’t want them. I want you to be feeling how wet I made you all day. I want you to be uncomfortable and thinking about my cock deep inside your pussy until you are so horny you are desperate to come. Until you know how slutty you really are…” You moaned, his words igniting a fire inside of you that made your brain short-circuit. “Now, compose yourself, we have a very interesting class ahead. I’m sure you are dying to know about the survival strategies of cacti,” he said with a laugh, making you let out a choked giggle. You weren’t expecting him to joke. Shit, why did that make him hotter?

The class was boring, but you didn’t even care about it. You didn’t care about anything but the feel of your wet panties against your pussy and his words resonating inside your brain. He made a point of looking directly at you a couple times, going as far as to ask you something about what he was saying, just to huff in annoyance when you didn’t answer correctly. But he smirked in your direction and that was enough to send you spiraling into a thousand of new horny thoughts.

You left his class as fast as you could, trying very hard to look normal when you passed him, but his knowing smile only made your clit pulsate harder, your core clenching around nothing and making you want to beg him to take pity on you and fuck you right then and there. But you were stronger than that, so you left his class on your way to the next one.

You didn’t take a single note the rest of the day, your brain filled with possibilities and images of his hard dick. The feel of his lips against yours, and the ideas of how would feel against your lower lips… Your brain was running a mile per minute, and you couldn’t focus on anything that wasn’t the rub of the lace against your clit. It was exhilarating and maddening at the same time, and by the time four rolled around, you were on the edge and you had to run to his office in need of release.

You knocked rapidly, and when you opened and saw him there, shirt rolled over his big green forearms and glasses pushed down on his nose you almost came right there. Fuck, he was so fucking sexy it wasn’t fair at all.

“Come on in,” he said as soon as you closed the door behind yourself.

You tried to lock it, but he shook his head… Oh shit, that made you even wetter. The idea that you could get caught. That somebody could just walk in and know how much of a slut you were, that you were fucking your professor for a good grade…

You moaned and he chuckled. “Come here, little human, I almost hear your brain short-circuiting.” You walked to him, your steps measured so you wouldn’t fall. Your knees feel like jelly, and your pussy is so wet you are sure he can hear it from the desk. “So… Did you think about what you are going to do to redeem yourself from not meeting your end of our deal this morning?” You nod. “Go ahead, tell me.”

You’d been thinking about it all day. Your whole brain occupied by thoughts of his cock inside of you, against you, spilling in and over you… But there was one thought that surpassed all others. “I- I want to suck you off, sir.”

He smirked, his tusks framing his plush lips in a way that made your clit tingle. “Is that so? But you have such a tiny human mouth, I don’t know if you’d be able to fit me…” He teased, making you blush. You gave him your panties everyday, and that’s what got you to blush, him teasing you… Incredible.

“I will. It will. It will fit, sir,” you stuttered. This orc made your brain so fuzzy you could barely process words correctly anymore. You could barely talk when he was close, especially now that you were moments away from sucking his dick down your throat.

“Prove it then, little slut.”

You dropped to your knees so fast you moaned when you hit the floor, the spark of pain focusing your brain for a second. But the second you touched his big-as-tree-trunks thighs, your brain disconnected again. Only heat and lust left behind. You pulled down his fly in a slow movement, staring up at him as he looked back at you with an indescribable look.

You took his dick out and gasped again. You already saw it, you had it inside of you, but it was nothing compared with the realization that you were about to fit that inside your mouth. Maybe he was right, and it wouldn’t fit.

His eyes were tender when he looked down at you. “Relax, you don’t have to take all of it, just whatever you are comfortable with. I like you submitting to me, but I don’t want to hurt you in any way. Do you understand?” You nodded, relief running down your body and making you even hornier.

“Okay,” you whispered.

And then you launched.

You pulled out your tongue and started mapping the veins of his huge shaft one after the other. His hands were gripping the arms of the chair with such force you could hear the leather breaking. You smiled against his dick and he grunted, one of his hands fisting your hair and urging you where he wanted you more. You complied, you wanted nothing more but to be a good girl for him, a good slutty human for him.

You took his head into your mouth, your lips so stretched it was almost uncomfortable, but you liked it. You loved the feel of his cock inside your mouth, it was exhilarating in a way you weren’t expecting. You weren’t one to like giving head in general, you preferred to go down on girls than guys, but definitely wasn’t your go to activity, but right there… You fucking loved it.

You rolled your tongue around the tip, teasing the underside where you knew he was especially sensitive. He moaned over you, his fist pulling at your hair and making you moan around him, which made him almost whimper and let out a series of curses that would make a pirate blush.

You kept going at it, you couldn’t get past a few centimeters, he was too wide for you to get him to the back of your throat, but by the glassy look in his eyes you understood it was enough. You were messy, your saliva getting everywhere as you bobbed your head up and down.

He was looking down at you reverently, and you couldn’t hold back a few more moans, who made him thrust up accidentally. You pulled back coughing, eyes teary and a few tears rolling down. He groaned at the sigh, and you felt your clit pulsating with your heartbeat. You were so close to coming, you wanted nothing more but to touch yourself. You threw your body to him again, but he stopped you with the hand tangled in your curls.

“I want to fuck your pretty face, would you let me, little slut? Would you let me use you like my personal fuck toy?” You whimpered, nodding against his thigh as he pulled your head back by the hair. “Such a good girl for me, already so needy and desperate. Look at you… You look so dirty like that. Remind me to take a pic so I can enjoy you later,” his words made you emit a guttural moan.

The idea of him taking pics of you like that, make up running and lips swollen… it made you feel hot. It made you feel so horny you could feel your juices dripping down to the floor under you, your panties so wet they couldn’t hold your gushing pussy anymore.

“You like that? You like me having pictures of how pretty you look all fucked up? Why do I even ask, of course you do, you are such a little slut for me. Now open up.” You obeyed and he directed his dick back against your welcoming mouth. “Tap my leg three times if it’s too much, okay?” You nodded again. “Words. How many times?”

“Three. I tap three times if it’s too much,” you repeat, breathless already.

“Good girl.”

And then he started a brutal pace. He used his hold on your hair to direct your movements, moving your head forward until you couldn’t take it further and then retreating. Repeating that process until something inside of you gave out and you felt him slip inside your throat. It was almost too much, you couldn’t breathe, but your eyes rolled back into your head at the sight of him in pleasure.

He pulled back to let you breathe, looking down at you with reverence. “You look so fucked out I want to ruin you. Would you let me ruin you, little human?” You nodded, unable to form words. “Such a good girl for me.” He pulled your head forward and started to fuck your mouth in earnest.

Your brain was fuzzy, your pussy so wet you could feel it dripping down, and your clit asking for attention. The weight of his cock against your tongue, his hand on your hair and his curses over you were driving you insane.

“Touch yourself for me, little human. Come around your tiny fingers. Show me how much you like sucking my orc cock,” his permission was enough, your hand traveling down your body and rubbing frantically against your clit, over the lace.

His pace became erratic, and your fingers rubbed so hard you were almost afraid to set your clit on fire. But it was so good, the combination of sensations so intense you were about to come.

“I’m about to come. Do you want it? Do you want to swallow my come or do you want it in your face, little slut?” You sucked harder, pushing your head further down, swallowing around him to indicate you wanted it. You wanted to swallow him whole.

That was all it took. He growled over you and pushed his dick as far as he could before you felt the first shot of his come in the back of your throat. He pulled back a little to avoid chocking you, the final spurs of his release filling your mouth to the brim, some of it dripping down your chin.

The second he opened his eyes and looked down at you, his dick still in your mouth, you were done. You flicked your clit one last time before you melted, pulling back and spilling the rest of his come over your boobs as you cried out your own release.

Your vision whited out, your ears ringing as you felt your body moving as he pulled you up onto his lap, his hands caressing your back as he whispered sweet nothings that your brain couldn’t process.

He took some tissues from the box on his desk and carefully cleaned your messy face. “You didn’t take the pic,” you told him.

“We didn’t talk about it beforehand. I wouldn’t risk stepping over your possible boundaries like that.” Your heart skipped a beat. “But don’t worry, we’ll have more opportunities if that’s something you’d enjoy…”

“We will?” You asked, a bit confused but a spark of hope blooming inside your chest.

“I’m not letting go of your sweet, sweet slutty pussy anytime soon,” he told you, kissing your forehead as his hand traveled down until it met your dripping panties. “I would like this panties now, thank you,” he whispered against your ear, you could sense his smirk on his tone, making you laugh so hard you snorted.

[bettystonewell]

SNICKERDOODLES & SPECIAL SAUCE

Part 2 - It Should’ve Gone Down by Now

Story Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: ‘Twas the night of fake Christmas and all through the halls, creatures were stirring, eventually on all fours… or …Mrs Butters isn’t just messing with Dean’s underwear drawer. She’s messing with your love lives, too. 18+ only

Word Count: 3.4K words (multiple POV)

Tags/Warnings: crack, friends to lovers, love potion, language, dubious consent, pining, eggnog, Mrs Butters is a terrible wingman, SMUT—————————————————————PART 1 || PART 3

Part 2: It Should’ve Gone Down By Now

Something else going on, huh? Well, you were right. There was definitely something else going on because Dean felt like shit. He’d dropped a load off twice, and still wasn’t faring much better. What with his insides rumbling and… squeaking, he could liken his stomach to a volcano or a geyser, ready to erupt.

It had to be that turkey. 

That bird was the most awesomest thing he’d ever eaten. Moist and meaty. And with those potatoes and the pumpkin and that cheese covered stuff on the side? Man. Who knew vegetables could be so delicious? He’d had two helpings of it, and… oh right. The dairy. 

Heh-heh. 

Eh. He’d slow down tomorrow. 

Mrs Butters had promised him apple pie, and he needed room for that if her cookies were anything to go by.

Or were they your cookies? 

Yeah, he still didn’t know what’d gone on there besides you having beef with Mrs Butters, and really? What else could be going on besides Christmas, monster radars and lactose causing him grief again? He could tie all of it back to Chuck, no doubt if you gave him a minute.

He sauntered back to his room, extra careful to not make a sound as he passed everyone else’s. The tips of his boots tip-toeing over the polished floors. But when those tips reached his door, he felt the first niggle of something being up other than his heels.

Pulses, tiny but strong, kinda like how it felt when he got his rocks off, strummed to the beat of his heart. It travelled from his queasy stomach to his now warm junk and had him looking down to find little Dean stirring.

Huh. 

Well, okay, nothing that unusual. Maybe for not seeing or thinking ‘bout anyone special, but it’d been a long day full of victories. The vamps, the nymph turned housemaid. A bit of sugar, even though forced and unexpected, was kinda nice. Stressful, but nice, and he figured he’d earned himself some time to rub one out.

Heh. Who was he kidding? He was wired, his gut issues weren’t about to let him sleep, and it was just another regular Tuesday night. He didn’t need an excuse to cook up his own batch of cookies.

Ever. 

So he shut his door, locking it behind him in case Mrs Butters let herself in again and went straight into getting everything he needed ready. Lube. Tissues, an old sock… okay, no on the sock... 

The even older wood nymph was a little too efficient, but no bother. He had plenty of tissues and a sink by the door. He’d make do with what he had. Just needed to pry open his favourite Miss January 1973 from his collector’s edition and he’d be in business. 

Thank god she hadn’t found that.

He ripped his clothes off, ‘cause who needed them anyway, and planted his ass with a wriggle, into the sweet memory foam on his bed. Comfort was key. Getting it hard, even more so, though, surprisingly (or maybe not), he was at full mast. Must’ve needed this more than he thought, and he shrugged and reached for the lube.

He squeezed out a decent dollop and wasted no time wrapping his hand around the base. Ho-ho, he really was in business. Slightly cool, but warming rapidly under his touch, his balls pulled tighter and his skin lit up. Seemed he really needed this. 

No, seriously. 

As he fisted himself, squeezing just the way he liked with a swipe over his head to boot, his slit was already leaking his own brand of special sauce. Warm and creamy.

Heh-heh. You and your stupid special sauce. His hand was on fucking fire, and you were… 

Shit. 

No. 

Why was he thinking of you when Miss January was right there in front of him? Yeah. He needed to dump whatever thought that was and bring his top head back to Miss January. 

Fuck. Miss January. 

His free hand spread the glossy pages further apart, and his eyes roamed over her body. She was lovely. A fine and upstanding citizen. With pretty titties he could rub it between, and a round ass he’d plough in and out of. Yeah. Bet she’d like that.

Bet you’d like it, too, and he grunted at the thought of touching. 

But, nope. Nuh-uh. He wasn’t going there, remember? He was looking at Miss January with her legs spread nice and wide for him. She had hair the same length as yours if he squinted just right and he squeezed his fingers tight. Dragging perfect pressure up the length of him and to the sensitive tip that twitched when he rubbed that reddened head.

Though wait. Fuck. If your drapes looked like hers, did that mean your carpets matched hers, too? Dean sped up his hand at that thought. And oh, oh, okay. He was doing this and picturing you? 

Apparently so. 

His hips were lifting off the mattress. His heels dug into the sheets and the plush foam beneath them to keep up momentum. He’d say he was going to hell for that, but he’d already been, and the pull in his stomach, hard to ignore. It was just… Too. Damn. Good.

What would you look like out on display like Miss January? he wondered. Would you let him touch you? Let him spread you open with his fingers?

“Oh shit.” The hand that’d held the mag open swept down to cup his sack and the base of his spine jolted. He was so close. His thumb on the other swiped over his slit, pulling out a large drop of more sauce that kept him wanting for more.

What would you taste like? Better than stupid cookies, no doubt. A little sour when you let him lap you up? Tangy if he spread your pussy open with his tongue and fucked you with it?

“C’mon, Deano,” you’d said under the mistletoe. “This sweet skin aint gonna kiss itself.”

No, it would not, and, yep. Oh, god. He was gonna… Yeah… He was gonna fucking burst. 

“Take it, baby,” he said, and his visual changed to you with your mouth wide open. A rim of eggnog ‘round your lips just to hit that sweet visual home. 

You’d take it alright. You’d take every last drop, as did his hand and stomach.

There was no time for tissues or socks. Warmth bubbled in his still queasy gut and his pelvis went rigid. His own freckled skin, taking it all as he moaned your name. 

That had to be a record time, but he didn’t fucking care up on cloud nine. His languid strokes drew more and more out of him until he was sure he was spent. Only little Dean didn’t go down as expected. Not even slight.

Nope. Dean even rested his wrist, but nothing was changing. There was no refractory period whatsoever. His dick, still straining in his hands, was hard, stiff and throbbing. And those pulses? Yeah, they still hadn’t stopped, either. No. His balls remained tight.

Of course, Dean saw it as a blessing. He still had it, and you… heh… you were kinda hot. 

He looked down at the mess and back at the mag, then back to his dick. May as well go again, right? Take his time, ‘cause he did deserve it. 

There was just one problem he hadn’t realised yet, and by the end of the night, less than a few hours really, you all would.

You see, you were also wired. And if you couldn’t get to sleep before, you certainly couldn’t get to sleep now. 

Not only was your head running through that peck and Dean’s last words to you over eggnog, but your stomach churned and the same, overthinking made it pound.

You and Dean? You and Dean? Fuck no, it’d never happen, but the pounding still didn’t let up. 

Your skin felt clammy, too. You’d say you had a fever, but touching the back of your hand to your forehead was no different from placing it anywhere else on your body. So, maybe you weren’t sick, but getting there? 

Had… had Mrs Butters given you food poisoning? The cookies? The ham? The cheese-covered cauliflower?

It was all plausible, and you were up outta bed again for the second time that night because lying there, tossing and turning, wasn’t helping. Neither had the eggnog.

Only difference was, last time you walked free and steady. This time you stumbled, tumbled and fell more than once. 

Through the halls, past Dean’s room, your hands fumbled over the tiles on the walls. It was a surprise no one woke up to the sound of your distress. The aches. The pangs. They were spreading all over, causing you to groan and gripe.

You’d say you were getting your period. Had it not been for it coming and going two weeks ago, though maybe it was ovulation cramps? That was a thing, right? 

Whatever it was, you needed aspirin. Or a hysterectomy, stat. But with only the former available to you, that’s what you sought, and you somehow found your way towards the infirmary. The smoke from a train still running in the war room, making you even more nauseous as you passed by it. 

Oh god. 

The pain.

You. Were. Going. To. Die.

But so was Dean a short while later, by Sam’s hands, no less, having been called out to, twice. God. Sam was not in the mood for his crap. 

No. His jaw tightened, but he held back the sigh that wanted to escape him as his brother’s voice thundered out his name once again. 

“Sammy!” 

What the hell had he done now? He sounded… pained? Panicked? The last time he’d called out like that, Kevin had been trying to communicate with them from beyond the veil, so Sam presumed it was urgent. At least it better be.

He turned back to his computer screen open on his bed and signed, “I’m sorry,” to Eileen’s confused face. “Can I call you back?” His hands added ‘jerk’ to the mix, and pointed to the door, knowing she’d get a kick out of it.

She giggled in that way that had her nose scrunching up, and Sam’s heart raced. All he could give her in return was an apologetic smile, and another, “Sorry.” This better be quick, he thought.

“No problem,” she said. “Don’t be long.” And with that, she waved and signed off.

Sam stood up, taking his time. There’d been no gunshots or screaming from anyone else, so it wasn’t a life or death situation. Yet. Just needed investigating.

Of course, Dean couldn’t come to him. Never in a million years. It was always Sam making the middle ground like now. 

He traipsed the far-enough-distance down the hall to Dean’s room, where he found the door locked. Great. The least he could’ve done was open the damn door.

“Dean?” He knocked, not bothering with being quiet, though he was rather surprised the rest of you weren’t up now, too. How could you not hear his brother’s cries? Your door was only three down. He’d think you’d have been the first to arrive, and he took a step back to check. Yours was open? 

Weird.

“Sammy?” Dean finally said, followed by shuffling, ruffling, and footsteps that stopped shy of the crack below the doorframe. “That you?”

“Who else would it be?” he asked.

Silence sounded back. 

“Are you going to let me in or not?” He jiggled the handle, but a force from the other side made him stop.

“Okay, okay,” Dean said with a defeated tone and a huff, clicking the door open by only a crack. 

Having had enough of his antics, Sam pushed it aside and marched in. He scanned the room the second he had, finding Dean and his purple nightgown with ease. 

It was hard not to miss.

As was his one-eyed-snake, reddened and sticking out from under it. 

“Dude.” He… He… “Would you put that thing away?”

Thank Chuck, Dean listened to that instruction. It was bad enough seeing it before in the kitchen, not hard. This was… This was… “What the hell do you want me for?” And what was he supposed to tell Eileen? 

“It’s stuck.”

It… “What do you mean it’s stuck? Just beat it out and go to sleep.”

“You don’t think I tried that already?” Dean said. “I’ve jacked off three times, man.” He raised his fingers in the air. “It won’t go down.” 

“Okay. That-that-that is way too much information.” They were brothers, they knew the drill. Knew all about what happened behind closed doors, but you didn’t talk about it. Not a word… unless you were Dean, and you got yourself into something like this. Whatever this was.

“Did you take something?” Sam dared to ask.

“No!”

To which he glared, and Dean grinned.

“Well. Not this time.” 

And Sam drew his hand down over his nose and chin, trying to adjust. Why was he always the one cleaning up Dean’s mess? Even just thinking about it like that had him shuddering. 

He could see how Dean was upset, though. He had some empathy if he really hadn’t done or taken anything because three times and still being up would probably be painful. 

But, “What’re we gonna do?” Dean asked. His hands were now on his thighs in a weird-ass brace. At least the tent was outta sight. 

“We? Dean, this is your problem.”

Except it wasn’t only him.

No matter the position you sat or stood in on the infirmary floor, the ache between your legs would not yield. It weighed your whole body down like a heavy period might, only there was no blood. Just wet upon wet that’d soaked through your pyjama bottoms.

Mrs Butters’ housecoat was looking mighty fine right now.

The satin finish with dainty embroidered flowers would cover the stain on your ass, assuming you could even make it back to your room without toppling over again.

The aspirin hadn’t kicked in yet, and your legs were like jelly. The pain, excruciating.

Pins and needles had travelled the back of your calves, and up your thighs to settle in your core and your wet, wet heat. It continued to throb in time to the pounding in your head, and it wouldn’t die down.

You were hot, burning up really. You were buzzing, and you were horny. It just took a minute for you to figure out what your body had been trying to tell you. You’d even tried to assist by flicking the bean. 

But then Dean had gone and yelled out to Sam and you’d removed your fingers from your panties quick smart on the off chance one of them came upon you. 

It was agony. Pure agony. 

Just when you thought you’d get some sleep, this shit had all gone down.

You needed to get off, but you were also desperate for the guys to find you ‘cause something wasn’t right here. Dean’s timbre was doing things to you, and Chuck, a part of you, hoped it would be him that did the finding.

His thick fingers could work wonders. Other parts, more so. And after that kiss earlier, those lips of his were welcome on any piece of skin of yours, inside and out.

“Oh. shit.” More heat gushed out of you, if that were even possible, and your legs clenched together on instinct. It felt way too damn good, and you did it again. And again.

Your ass cheeks were working the aerobic commercial circuit. One squeeze, two. Clench, release. Tighten, relax. Hips gyrated too, and oh fuck. Just a little more.

Screw the guys. Your middle finger was pushing back under the elastic as you spread your legs and got comfortable on the tiled floor like some bitch in heat. 

Of course, that’s when Sam found you, and he wasn’t pleased. 

You weren’t either.

“Not you, too?” he said, and you just stared back. You should’ve been ashamed… but you weren’t.

First Dean and now you? What the hell was going on and would Sam catch it? Yeah, he didn’t want to explain this to Eilleen.

Something was definitely up, besides Dean’s hard on, and you were no better. Wriggling in his arms, squeezing your thighs together like that.

Nope. Nope. He wasn’t going there.

“Would you stop fidgeting? I’m going to drop you,” he said, gripping you tighter. Though why he’d picked you up was still questionable. You weren’t running away. Quite the opposite, actually, and he needed to be careful. There was no way he was going down that road. Least not with you.

But then you said, “It hurts Sam,” and he had to hold back asking where.

So, the walk back to Dean was awkward, but nothing he’d seen could prepare Sam for what lay ahead. 

Seeing his brother’s junk twice was one thing. 

Seeing him flogging it was another. 

And feeling you squirm and then moan in his arms at the sight? Yeah. That was a whole other level of whack, and Sam wanted to call it quits. Now.

Yes. Something was up all right, though you could no longer see the tent in Dean’s nightgown from where you sat.

The library chair was worse than the ground. At least you’d had some wiggle room there. With only so much space to twist your hips in search of friction and your hands and torso tied up, there wasn’t much going for you on the wooden seat.

You should’ve considered yourself lucky Sam had used a scarf on you, whereas Dean had gotten the rope treatment.

“Why am I tied up when Dean is as well?” you asked, staring at the man in question from across the table. The coil inside wound so tight, you were about fit to burst. 

He looked better than you remembered. Pure sex on a stick. Those lips were the perfect weapon to counter your needy cunt, and he was looking at you just as wanton.

Okay. Hold up. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” You were a woman who had needs, but this was beyond ridiculous. No one was this… horny.

“You’re looking mighty fine from over here, darlin’.” Dean winked, and it sent tingles to your bits.

No one but Dean, god dammit. 

You pressed your thighs together as if your life depended on it. Heaved your chest out like an old-timey harlequin and pushed your pelvis into the chair. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

Mm-hmm. Mrs Butters would not approve of this, but Dean sure did.

“Would you stop that!” 

“But it hurts, Sam.” You elongated his name as far as was possible. The whine you could produce when you wanted to, grating, even to you.

“Yeah, well… I got nothing,” he said, closing the fourth textbook he’d read so far, and scanning the shelves for another. “Something must’ve happened after I left ‘cause you’re the only ones affected. What did you do after Die Hard?”

You grinned at that. Dean did, too, though he had more of a smouldering smirk going on.

“It’s not a Christmas movie!” Sam said, but you both ignored him.

Your tongue swiped over your lower lip. Teeth grabbed it once it had to bite down. Hard. Dean’s jaw had tightened and his shoulders flinched, rippling the bone and muscle under his nightdress that spread taut across his chest. Tighter on account of his arms and the rope. Yes, Dean could rock just about anything. Would probably pick up, even at a bar wearing that thing, if he so dared. The purple brought out his eyes, and when yours met his, they widened as you remembered the last time you’d really looked at them.

“You know how you’re always going with your gut?” you’d said then, and, “Mrs Butters,” you said now.

The eggnog.

You knew it tasted funny, and as far as you were aware, only you and Dean had drunk it. But no. No, no. Maybe it was the mistletoe? You’d both kissed under that, too, and thank Chuck. Dean was also coming to your conclusion. 

His head tilted and his face grew pained as he went through the motions. “Dammit. Guess we can’t keep her now.” He pouted, and Sam’s face lit up in delight.

PART 1 || PART 3—————————————————————Thank you so much for reading!

Up next in Part 3 - 14/02

Your white knuckles and sweaty palms held on too tight to the arms of the chair. Damn. That Pink song knew a thing or two, even if the lyrics and your body had differing opinions.

You didn’t want Dean to blow you one last kiss, though. No. Oh no. You’d settle for blowing him, or better yet, him blowing his warm breath over you because everything was on fire. The depths of your panties, the worst. The stiff wood under your ass and your pyjama shorts weren’t doing nothing for you. Neither were your knees rubbing together.

“Would you quit it?” Dean growled, and the echo went straight there.

A shiver. A trickle. A shock? Whatever it was, your cooch clenched tight to trap it and you had to stifle the moan you almost couldn’t. —————————————————————DEAN TAGLIST:

@globetrotter28 @ambiguous-avery @arcannaa @zepskies

@reluctanthalfwayoptimism @supernotnatural2005 @jackles010378 @kaz-2y5-spn @applelovesposts

@jaydensluv @foxyjwls007

SNICKERDOODLES UPDATES:

@happyfxckinghorrors

If you'd like to be tagged, please lmk.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Adventure: The Subtle Art of Dragon Hunting

Art 1 Art 2 Art 3

After a lowland kingdom is ravaged by a dragon looking to expand its territory the party sets out on a quest worthy of the heroes of old... only to discover that the epic songs recounting the deeds of those old heroes chose to leave out just how much hiking would be involved in such an epic undertaking.

Tracing witness accounts and the path of destruction leads our would be dragonslayers to the Bronscall Mountains, a rugged wilderness of deep valleys and icy peaks, but the trail goes cold before they have any clue to where their quarry might be lairing. This is the sort of adventure where the party needs to take their time, and is best brought to life using an exploration system such as the one I've developed here, or hexcrawling if you'd prefer.

The idea is to have the party fully experiance the Bronscall mountains before facing the dragon: living off the land, learning its secrets, discovering resources they might use or potential ambush sites.

Zones of interest:

The Podrian Foodhills: Groves of flowers and tangled trees that seem intent on capturing any wayward traveller. The region also features a potential base camp for the party in the form of a ruined watchtower, sturdy and fortified, it may become their home away from home before too long.

Lake Whitedog: cold all year from glacial melt, the waters of this lake hold a long sunken secret, and provide great fishing. Perhaps while exploring the party can trace the mystery of the deserted mining village built nearby.

Bron's Stair: An increasingly challenging climb up the foothills of the mountains, home to many monsters and chilling wind. The area is also home to a crotchety old hunter who can teach them the finer points of surviving the cold as they ascend.

The Frigid Peaks: Windstorms, avalanches, occasional aerial attacks by the dragon as they near its territory. It's dangerous to stay more than a few hours in this region, but the beast's lair must be around here somewhere.

The Burning Rift: accessible only from the height of the peaks (or a hidden shortcut through the hotsprings lower down the mountain), these volcanic caverns are rife with volatile elementals and the threat of collapse, but may provide a means of sneaking up on the dragon without the risk of being attacked from the air.

[r0tt3nfever]

Jealousy jealousy! Ft choso!

Choso kamo x fem reader ♡

Warnings!: mdni. Nsfw. Fully smut little to no story. Mirror sex. Semi public. Slightly possessive behaviour. Not proof read. So on and so forth.

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“Mmm!” You cover your mouth with your hand, attempting to stifle a moan. You’re in the bathroom of the house party your at, loud music vibrates the floor you stand on. Choso has you bent over the basin, his lust filled eyes stare at you through the mirror from where he stands behind you. He fucks his fingers into you with one hand, the other wrapped in front of you rubbing fast circles on your clit. “Don’t do that pretty girl, gonna need you to let those noises out.” His voice is husky, barely holding back his desire. His two fingers scissor into your tight heat, curling just right.

The night had started out innocent, you and him dancing and drinking. He decided to go get himself another drink, and when he returned how did he find you? Being hit on by some asshole. After giving the man some words of advice and sending him on his way, Choso practically dragged you to the bathroom. Muttering under his breath as he did so, wasting no time to get you where you are now.

“Ah!…Cho…but someone will…hear…” you mumble between pants, face flushed as His fingers continue their brutal pace. “That’s the idea sweetheart. Need everyone…including you…to remember who makes you feel the best” Choso says, a small smirk plastered on his face as he watches you in the mirror. His fingers on your clit continue to rub sloppy circles. You lower your head, pressing your forehead against the cool tile as his fingers work their magic. “Awww baby no, I’m gonna need you to look up for me. need you to see how fucking pretty you look….atta girl…see look at you, so fucking gorgeous…you love my fingers don’t you baby?” His tone makes you moan, the sweetness in his voice, mixed with the savagery of his pace makes you see stars. His fingers curl and fuck into you harder, the arm wrapped around you squeezing you tighter as it rubs your clit. “Choooo, fuck i can’t…ughh…mmmnn” you whine and squirm, still watching yourself like he had instructed. Your walls clench around his fingers, heat travels down your spine and pools in your stomach as your release fast approaches.

“Baby I need you to tell me what you see in the mirror. Who’s making you squirm y/n?” His voice is almost whiney now, arousal fogs his features “you…Choso…fuck it’s you…” you whine back, on the brink of release. “That’s right sweet thing, your close aren’t you? Can feel you squeezing my fucking fingers. God I love you so much, my pretty girl. You’re gonna cum for me aren’t you?” His words make the heat in your stomach erupt, sending you over the edge “fuck! Chosooo…ahhugh..” you whine and squirm, eyes on your reflection and the man that stands behind it. His pace slows down as he eases you down from your high “you’re such a fucking good girl, so sweet n loud. I love you so much baby” he presses kisses to your back as he mumbles sweet praises. Carefully removing his fingers from you and bringing them to his lips “you taste so fucking good y/n…I love you so much…you’re all mine…so pretty”

“Love you too cho” you mumble, still coming down from your high. You hear him fiddling with his belt and wip your head around. “ you didn’t think we were done did you sweetheart?” He says with a smirk.

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If there’s any spelling mistakes no there’s not! Mdni you will be blocked. Feedback is welcome, negative or positive. I love Choso sm I cantttt!!

Hope you enjoyed! Have a great day 😻😻

[holdmytesseract]

Mother Knows Best

☆ The Baby Fever AU ☆

Loki x Y/N feat. Frigga

Summary: Loki is quite a bit uncertain and afraid of becoming a father - but luckily his mother is here to soothe his worries. After all, mother knows best, right?

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, sweet Loki and Frigga moments, Loki being a mama's boy and very protective, pregnancy things

Word Count: 1,5k

a/n: Finally some Baby Fever again, yaay! 🤗 To write this sweet, lil' story has been on my mind for a long time... I hope y'all enjoy it!

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

divider by the lovely @fictive-sl0th <3

"Darling?" Loki opened slowly the door of the meeting room in which you were going to give a lecture in about twenty minutes for a few SHIELD agents.

"Come in!" You called out to your husband; allowing him to enter the small room.

Loki found you currently connecting your laptop to the projector hanging on the ceiling. He smiled watching you work and decided to step closer.

"Hey, babe!" Your beautiful Y/E/C eyes lit up when you met his gaze.

Those irises are shining even more now, Loki noticed; his mind immediately connecting it to the famous pregnancy glow. The mere thought caused his heart to skip a beat. Twelve weeks in and he still quite couldn't believe it.

"Hello, my love." The god reciprocated your radiating smile and passed by the huge table in order to get to you.

Greeting you with a lingering kiss, you welcomed him with open arms; crossing your hands behind his neck.

"And you, babe? Off to visit your parents?" Loki smiled; confirming your suggestion with a nod. "Well, rather my mother, since my father will most likely be busy as always - but indeed. I'm going to Asgard now. Is that alright, my love? Are you getting along... alone?" "Sure. I am almost done preparing and-" "That's not what I meant, Y/N," your husband interrupted you; slight worry reflecting on his face. One of his hands travelled to rest on the tiny baby bump, which became clearly visible mere two days ago. Concerned blue eyes looking from your face to the bump and back.

"Getting ready for your lecture?" He asked; hands landing on your hips; thumbs immediately starting to rub soft circles into your clothed skin.

You nodded and buried your hands in his raven locks. "Mhm. I hope the technology is working properly this time." You let out a small laugh. "Fingers crossed that it will work." Loki chuckled and leaned against the white, wooden table; pulling you softly with him, so that you came to stand between his spread legs.

"I hope it is showing you some mercy today." You nodded, "Would be favourable, yup." and paused for a moment to just admire the stunningly handsome man in front of you. His raven hair was wild and free; falling in gentle waves over his broad shoulders. Loki was wearing a traditional green, gold and black Asgardian tunic. You loved it when he wore the clothes of his home.

Your husband gave you a last look, before he vanished in the familiar rainbow light of the Bifrost.

"I know," You winked at him and stood on your tiptoes to press your lips against his for another kiss. "We're good, I promise. Please, go and visit your parents." "Are you really sure, my love?" You gave him a nod and smile. "To 100 per cent. You wanted to visit them since two months..." He swallowed - and you could see that a bit of guilt flashed in his eyes. "Yes, but... I-I couldn't leave you alone. You know I didn't want to. Not until you passed the first critical twelve weeks-" "Which I did today," you interrupted him; taking his free hand in yours and placing the other on top of his, which was still splayed over your stomach.

"Go, babe. I'm sure Frigga is dying to enfold her youngest son in her arms." Loki nodded; gave you a soft smile and a kiss. "I'll see you later. Call Heimdall if something is wrong. He can send me straight back." You smiled; squeezing his hand, before you let go. "Noted, babe. See you later - and please greet your parents from me." Loki walked to the open space at the back of the room, "Definitely, my love." and looked up to the ceiling. "Heimdall? Please take me home!"

"Thank you, Heimdall. I appreciate this very much." The man in golden armour gave Loki a small bow. "I informed the king and queen of your arrival. You are awaited." He gave him a nod in order to thank him and made his way towards the royal palace.

The first thing Loki did, when his feet touched Asgardian ground, was to straighten his tunic and run a hand through his long curls. He didn't want to look dishevelled when meeting his parents. He was a prince after all...

"Welcome home, my prince." Heimdall greeted Loki; giving him a nod. "Thank you, Heimdall. It's been quite a long time... Great to be back." "Indeed..." Heimdall started to smile. "But you had your reasons. Lady Y/N has probably already conveyed my greetings, but... Congratulations, again, my prince." Loki couldn't help but smile; grateful that he got along with the Gatekeeper so well by now - which certainly had not always been the case.

Once the younger prince of Asgard arrived at the gates of the palace, he already saw his mother waiting for him; a big smile displayed on her face. "Loki..." She welcomed her son with open arms. The god smiled; his heart sloshing over with love. "Mother."

Frigga immediately pulled him into a tight hug - and not letting go again. "Congratulations, my son - from the bottom of my very heart. I'm so, so proud of you. Of the wonderful man you became."

The god had a hard time to hold back his tears - but he couldn't. Neither could Frigga.

"I love you, mother."

"Thank you, mother," he choked out; hot, salty liquid dripping from his chin and soaking the fabric of Frigga's dress.

He felt how the queen started to shake her head, before she backed up a bit, in order to cup her son's cheeks. She wiped his tears away with her thumbs; staring into his matching blue eyes. The Allmother smiled; still seeing the little boy Loki once was standing in front of her.

"No, Loki... You don't have to thank me. You did this. You made all this on your own." The god smiled through his tears and pulled her into another hug.

Frigga buried a hand in his locks; squeezing his tall body. "I love you, too, son."

"How is Y/N doing?" Frigga continued to speak after a few steps. "Everything alright with her and the baby?" Loki nodded quickly. "Yes, yes. She and the baby are doing well." "That is reassuring to hear."

After the heartily reunion of mother and son, Frigga took her son on a little walk through the nature of Asgard.

"Where's father?" Loki asked, while strolling alongside Frigga down the forest path with her arm looped through his. "He's joining us later," Frigga answered and gave her son a little mischievous smile. "I allowed myself to take a selfish moment alone with you." He couldn't help but chuckle.

Another few steps passed in silence, until a small giggle slipped past the Allmother's lips. "I still can't believe that my littlest boy is going to become a father soon." Loki responded with a light-headed chuckle of his own. "Me neither, mother. It... It's still quite overwhelming from time to time. Especially now since Y/N is starting to show. I-"

Once again, he had to fight the tears.

He sighed; knowing that he wasn't able to hide anything from his mother. "I... I am excited, yes. But I am also so afraid. What if I am... A bad father? What if I can't be the person this child needs me to be? What if I fail, mother?" Frigga immediately stopped in her movements; causing Loki to stop, too. "Loki..." She took his hands. "You will not fail." "What makes you think that? Why are you so certain of this? Failing is in my nature, I-" The Allmother smiled; interrupting her child once more. "It's not. You did not fail your probation." Loki blinked. "You did not fail the beautiful relationship you have with your wife." "Y-Yes, but..." Frigga squeezed his hands. "No buts, son. You won't fail. You're going to be the best father. Your heart and the love you will feel for this small creature is going to guide you, believe me."

"I-I'm so incredibly happy." Frigga smiled. "And it shows, son. You have all the right to be happy. You deserve it and yet... I feel something overshadowing your happiness. What is it?"

The god's eyes widened at his mother's words. How in all the nine realms was she able to- "Motherly instinct, sweetheart. You'll know what I'm talking about as soon as you hold your very own child in your arms. Tell me." "M-Mother, I-" "Nuh.Uh," she interrupted him immediately again. "Loki, when are you finally going to understand that lying to me will never work? You may be able to trick all the others around you... But not me."

Loki’s features softened. "Truly?" "Yes. I know this is frightening and a big change, but... Don't let your fears overshadow your happiness. You've grown, sweetheart. You're stronger and wiser - and you have a wonderful lady by your side."

The god smiled; letting his mother's words sink in.

Loki nodded; letting go of Frigga and gestured towards the little path. "After you."

"Thank you. I really hope you're right." Frigga lifted a hand to cup his cheek. "I know I'll be right. I can feel it." Loki turned his head to place a soft kiss on her wrist.

The goddess smiled. "Let's head back to the palace, shall we? I bet your father is already awaiting us."

Tags: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @herdetectivetheorist @hisredheadedgoddess28 @chennqingg @princess-ofthe-pages @km-ffluv @brokenpoetliz @huntedmusicgardenn @lokiforever @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loz-3 @jaguarthecat @icytrickster17 @eleniblue @yourfriendlyslytherinhc @kimanne723 @lou12346789 @smolvenger @lokisrealpurpous @isaidoop @lokisgoodgirl @aagn360 @cakesandtom @alexakeyloveloki @glitchquake (Continuing in the comments)

[liminal-librarian]

Super agree.

The thing is, a lot of pseudoscience is very close to a correct scientific fact but interprets it wrong or extends a rule of thumb beyond what is supported by the evidence.

So be merciful, but firmly on the side of the truth.

Flat Earth: Issac Asimov has a beautiful essay on this one but I'll paraphrase: If most people look out their window, they see rolling hills somewhat hidden by vegetation and/or water. (Because those are the places on earth most conducive to human life, also selection bias). But if you do a little research, keep careful track, and compile reports from other travellers, you realize that maybe the hills average out. Now what? If you do that leg work, you arrive at an unintuitive result: On average the earth is flat. This lets you correctly predict things like: the mountains, no matter how high, come back down on the other side, the sea floor comes back up on the other side, etc.

But once you extend it far enough, you find this theory making claims that are inaccurate, and the farther you take it the more inaccurate it is.

When we say that we have a better theory now, we don't mean that the flat earth theory is false, we mean that we've adjusted it slightly to make it more accurate, 0.008983 degrees per km to be exact, to imagine Earth as a sphere. (And additional even smaller adjustments to more closely approximate the real shape of the earth, an oblate sphereoid.)

No one quibbles about 0.008983 degrees per km in normal everyday life. But we very much do need to take it into account when planning journies many km long, and more so the faster we travel, or the harder it is to steer, like aeroplanes and spaceships.

Homeopathy is similar: Take a look at any medicine in your cabinet. In almost all of them the active ingredient is below 2%! (And remember that that tiny amount will further be dissolved and diluted throughout your whole body, or at least your whole bloodstream.) Most active ingredients target an internal distribution in the in parts per million/billion. Some active ingredients are considered most effective/safest at parts per trillion.

Why is it like that? Some of it is safety, other parts are psychology and ease of use. You don't want to just take the two drops of a full dose! The active ingredient might taste impossibly bad, be caustic at that concentration, or any number of other things that might prevent you from swallowing the whole dose. (Or take 3 drops by accident, or drop one on the floor and poison the cat.) Or worse, it tastes like nothing and people won't believe you that it is medicine, or figure out how easy it might be to poison people with it.

If you find/isolate/invent a new pharmacological/active ingredient, you don't just need to know the required treatment dose, you also need to find the correct delivery buffer(s) to dilute it with to make it safe to take without rendering it inert or inaccessible.

If you flunked out of pharmacy school without the full picture of all of that, or got hold of your mother's textbooks while in middle school one afternoon while you were sufficiently bored, you could easily misinterpret a discussion about finding effective buffers and safe dilutions to keep the patient from rejecting the active ingredient and invent homoeopathy from first principles. Or you might understand it correctly but fail to pass on the true goals of dilution to the second generation of your practitioners.

That said, if your active ingredient's correct dilution is measured in parts per trillion, you should not be handling that without a hazmat suit. Just like big pharma. (Oh, it's just daisies? Daisies which are universally considered to be non-toxic to humans and horses? Nope, you are selling weirdly themed bottled water.)

Comparatively, I have great respect for (at least one brand of) essential oil distributors, they are very clear: The effective dose is X drops, and the minimum carrier oil dilution (for the average person to not develop an allergic sensitivity) is Y per drop. And they don't sell carrier oils (you can just grab them from your local grocery store), so there is no financial incentive to them to get the dilution numbers wrong.

I understand that vaccines are proven to work and are a great advancement in our medicine, and also that homeopathic remedies don't work, but don't they work on the same principal? Why does one work and the other doesnt?

They do not work on the same principle.

I can see how vaccines look like a "like treats like" situation, but in homeopathy "like treats like" is a kind of magical thinking.

Let's take an example from Chicken Pox, a virus for which there is an effective vaccine and for which there is a common homeopathic treatment.

Chicken pox infects people once, and it is extremely rare to get a second case because once you have had it, your body forms persistent antibodies against the varicella-zoster virus. When I was a kid, they didn't have a vaccine for this, so kids mostly got chicken pox once and it ran around whole schools and that was it. It's a virus that is fairly minor in children, though it can cause dangerously high fevers. Adults who get chicken pox typically get much sicker than children who get it, and it can lead to permanent harms like infertility in adults who get it. Because it can be so dangerous, we don't want people to risk getting it, so we vaccinate.

The way the vaccine works is that it takes a weakened form of the virus and introduces that into the body of a person with a healthy immune system. The immune system responds and the person who got the vaccine may get some minor symptoms, like a headache or a slight fever, but it will be nowhere near as severe as getting actual chicken pox would be. Because the immune system was exposed to the virus and responded, it now has antibodies against the virus that recognize the virus and respond immediately before it can start replicating in the body. If a person who has either previously had chicken pox or who has been vaccinated against it is exposed to the chicken pox virus, their body uses those antibodies to react to the virus and protect against a systemic infection.

Are you familiar with Star Trek? It's kind of like the Borg. You can't use the same attack pattern against the Borg multiple times because if you do, they'll recognize the pattern and will be able to defend against it. The virus is the attacker, and your immune system is the Borg. It knows what it's looking for and won't let anything get through its defenses.

Homeopathic remedies don't seek to prevent illness or provoke an immune response, they seek to cancel out something that is happening in the body.

For chicken pox, which produces itchy red bumps, homeopaths use Rhus Tox - a dilution of poison ivy, a plant that causes itchy red bumps if you encounter it in nature. The Rhus Tox didn't cause the chicken pox, it's not given to prevent the virus, it's from a plant that is completely unrelated to the virus that happens to produce some of the same symptoms as the virus when you touch it.

They don't even think that the Rhus Tox will provoke an immune response from your body like actually touching poison ivy would, they're attempting to use an unrelated compound (that is so diluted that it isn't even present in the preparation) in place of your immune system to attack the itchy red bumps.

So I'm going to go over this in a few brief points:

Vaccines are preventative ONLY, they are not a treatment for illness or symptoms of an illness

Vaccines work by introducing your immune system to a partial, weakened, or dead virus so that your immune system can form antibodies against that virus and prevent that virus from replicating in your body when it is later exposed to a whole/strong/live virus.

Different vaccines have different levels of effectiveness and produce different lengths of immunity; this is for a number of reasons, but if you get a measles shot as a kid you may only ever need one booster, while you need a flu shot every year and a tetanus shot every decade. All of them work the same way, though: they show your immune system what a virus looks like so that your immune system can kill the virus.

That is why immune compromised people sometimes can't be vaccinated, or why vaccines don't work as well for them or may need higher doses or more boosters. Because they don't have a healthy immune system, weakened viruses like the ones in the chickenpox virus might be too strong for their immune system to fight, and even if it doesn't get them sick, their bodies may not be able to produce enough effective antibodies to protect them from the virus in the future. That's part of why it's important for as many people to be vaccinated as possible; the more people who are vaccinated, the harder it is for viruses to spread, and vulnerable people like immune compromised people or babies too young for vaccination won't be exposed to deadly viruses.

Homeopathy, on the other hand, aims to treat symptoms of an illness that a person is already experiencing.

Homeopathic treatments do not aim to provoke an immune response, they aim to cancel out a symptom with a cure.

Dilution is a very important part of homeopathy, with homeopaths claiming that the more diluted a preparation is the stronger it is. This is simply incorrect; I don't know how to make a more logical explanation of that, it is just wrong that less of a substance causes more of a response.

Homeopathy says "like treats like" and that may seem like using a vaccine with a weak virus to prevent infection from a strong virus, but their version of "like" is different - Rhus Tox (poison ivy) is supposed to be "like" chicken pox because both cause itching. Rhus tox is also supposed to treat PCOS, erectile dysfunction, uterine prolapse, sunken eyes, nausea, and backache. "Like" can have an extremely broad meaning in homeopathy, which should be cause for suspicion.

Here's a paper that compared the immune response of college students given homeopathic "vaccines" against a control group and against a group of students who were given standard medical vaccines. The control group and the homeopathic group both did not have an immune response in titer tests, while the vaccination group did have an immune response, demonstrating that they had protection from the vaccinated viruses. It's a pretty good demonstration both of how effective homeopathy is (not at all) as well as how to set up a fair and ethical study to look at the effectiveness of different kinds of treatments.

[starconstruction]

Equilibrium and The Beginning of the End

Yena x Male Reader(smut)

Part 3 of Hypothermia and The Cosmos

read part 1 and part 2 if you havent already :)

thanks for all the support on the previous two parts!

smut tags: ass eating (f receiving) , blowjob, riding, soft, throatpie, cum on body

WC: 4087

feel free to send me asks! i'll happily answer most of them!

not proofread

The abyss of the vast array of space was more comforting than the last time you two, you'd begun a voyage towards anywhere. She was the commander of the ship, sat in her chair, fiddling with controls on her complicated array. You were taking inventory again, the fight on those planets dwindled vital resources, food, water and fuel was no issue. The problem came with the lack of entertainment for the potentially endless expedition. You walked towards Yena, clanking metal as your hand coiled around her chest.

"How's it going Yenie" you teased, a silly nickname to break the thick emptiness of space.

A light slap came to your chest, her face scrunching in her soft features as she grimaced about the abhorrent nickname, "You are never calling me that again, understand?" she replied, her voice a mockery of seriousness as she pretended to be offended.

"It's going good Y/N! Can you believe it?! We are back on track, and your alive!" Her energy was contagious, a smile appearing on your face as she hopped around in her chair. Hitting a tiny dance as Yena celebrated your joined success, god she was truly perfect.

Her hands returned to the console, hitting buttons and pulling levers, colours lighting up as she performed tech magic. You felt a seed of pride bloom in your chest as you watched her movement, none of it made sense to an observer, only those who studied the books of the Technocrat from old earth. Something Yena referenced a lot, from what you could gather it was a legendary pilot who invented easier space travel before the world went dark with smog.

Yena finished her button mashing, kicking herself out of the chair. Approaching you, arms wrapping around your neck as she gave you a quick peck on the lips, pulling away as quickly as she arrived.

"Come onnnn! It's in autopilot, let's go cuddle!" she pleaded, dragging you by your arm as she pulled you towards your makeshift couch, the pillows from the company provided beds. Multiple blankets laid down on the ground. Covering up the cold metal of the ship floor. What really made the setpiece was the plushies Yena had in her box, seemingly endless as she stored more and more unauthorised items that came to light.

Yena pulled you down, your body made contact with the soft blankets. Pressing backwards into the pillows, Yena followed as she sat down next to you. You threw the thickest blanket you two found over each other, the soft cotton bounced the shared body heat around. You two were in relative bliss, Yena leaned into your body, head against your chest. Looking down as your arm draped over her shoulder. Her body naturally fit into yours as you two stayed connected like two puzzle pieces.

Yena was the first one to break the silence, adjusting to get more comfortable. "So, I was thinking, maybe I can figure where they went, yknow the other people?" she said.

"You think they're still alive?" You replied.

"I mean, if we landed with no engine chances are they landed with one." her hands rubbed circles on your leg absentmindedly as she pondered.

"You're probably right, we could have a look. Civilisation isn't going to rebuild with just two of us."

Yena gave a small nod from her position and you two sat there, bodies interlinked as you enjoyed each other's company. For the first time not against an arctic inferno, a planet that wanted everything dead. A memory that strengthened your bond together.

Hours passed sitting there, the expanse of space gave you two all the time in the world, you two were both burning up in the climate of your intimacy, neither of you two wanting to be the one to break the connection, but both of you wanting to get out of the scorching hug. You broke your connection, lifting Yena away as you stood up, going off to do whatever.

Yena fiddled with the strange terminal on the side of the ship, something you couldn't even read. Glyphs that Yena tapped and observed as a diagram of a ship came up. It was a life like model that wasn't entirely too dissimilar, fingers pressing into the screen, moving the model of the ship looking for something. You watched in awe as she did her magic, she was truly incredible and you couldn't stop repeating it.

"Ah hah!" she beamed, "I've got a lock on their location" tapping as an image of the planet appeared, how much strength was reliant on this engine? It looked similar to an image of a poster of old earth, dominantly green with trees cut through with a deep blue, creating swirls around the image. A potential home for you and Yena.

Your leg surged up in pain as you fell to the floor, propping yourself against the wall of the space craft, a expression of worry etched into Yena's face as she came down to sit next to you. Skin touching as her hands enveloped yours. "It's gonna take a few earth days to reach their orbit, I'll take care of you until then." she smiled brightly at you.

"Thank you, my love" you replied.

-

You woke up sometime later, unable to identify how long it's been by the lack of any sun, similar to your time on old earth. A strange noise filled the ship, the sound of metal tearing other metal apart and forging something new. Large sparks flew out through the air, Yena was working on something, clearly an active mind.

"What ya working on Yena?" you asked, limping as you approached her workstation.

"it's a rock smasher thing. Names still pending yknow?" she replied, picking up the framework of her creation, lifting it to the light. A large wooden handle was resting between her hands, thin scraps of metal residing around some stone from the mine you two found the engine stone.

" I see, needed something to do?"

"Yeah, we got a few days. I thought I'd make one so we can do whatever we need to build our new home."

"Good idea Yena. Let's hope all goes well"

-

Excess fuel burned as your ship dived down into the atmosphere of the hopeful planet, the darkness of space replaced by the brightness of the sky, a strange pastel green. This planet was much larger and lively than the previous, dark green leaves spotted over the wide green plains, this planet was so green.

A small ship could be seen as you two descended lower, the signs of life obvious as wooden buildings laid around it. Herds of cattle enjoying the grass as they roamed near the tiny village. You two lowered down beside it, a puff of smoke consuming the floor as you two landed.

The air was crisp and refreshing as you two landed, walking down onto the grass, weapons in your bags as you walked towards the settlement made by the other flight crew members. It was much larger up close, giant wooden walls propped up everywhere as a massive watchtower observed over the centre. You two approached the gate, shoddily made out of wood and metal scraps.

"Hey! Boss it's them! The other two! Yeah I'll let them in to talk" The gatekeeper said, screaming at the top of his lungs to the mysterious "boss".

The gate was opened and you two walked in, holding hands as you followed the guard, there was a faint glimmer of hope within your heart, could this be the start of civilisation?

The guard had stopped in front of a door, it had a sign that read "Commanders office", Yena squeezed your hand in worry. The guard walked off without saying a word. Gesturing for you to go in.

Your hand pushed open the door, giving way to the office, silent for the scratching of pencil, a familiar face was sat at the desk. The other pilot, the one that nearly cost you and Yena's life. Anger boiled inside as your hand clenched into a ball.

The pilot looked up, a sense of surprise filled his face. Pencil dropping against the desk as he sat backwards, smugness radiating from him.

"Oh. You made it, congratulations." Sarcasm dripped from his voice thickly like poison. You could feel Yena's anger pooling up by the way she gripped your hand. Before you could intercept she fling at him, jumping over his desk as she slammed him into the wall. A strong thud shaked the wall with tremendous force.

"You fucking asshole! We could have both died before you couldn't drive! Did you not learn or were you too busy to pay attention?!" Her arm pressed further into his neck, his fear evident as he struggled to breathe. Yena looked so hot when she was angry, but she couldn't kill him or else you'd both be fucked.

" Yena, lay off a bit honey. We won't be able to do anything if we both get killed." You said, keeping your voice soft. You could feel the tension lighten as she softened her impact.

"Get your fucking hands off me, you lived. No big deal, now. If you want to talk business, we can talk. If not, get off this planet before I get mad." He spat. You pulled Yena back into your arms.

He continued, "Good. You can listen, for the record we were playing spin the bottle. But if you want to help build the future. We could appreciate the help in getting more resources. Get out of my sight, bring back woods, metals whatever. Do it in the morning though, it's getting late. Don't want to run into revenants." God he spoke way too fucking much.

He kicked you out your office as you and Yena went back to the ship for tonight, hooking up your shower and sink to the local fresh water pond.

-

You and Yena were laying down on the makeshift couch again, the night sky coloured a strange pink as you two stared at it. No words have been shared in a few long minutes.

"I love you Yena" You let out accidentally.

"I know, honey you say it a lot." She replied, still staring at the sky.

"I know, I just think it is worth repeating, I love every inch of you Yena. I am so glad I met you."

"Every inch?"

"Every inch."

"In that case, theres something I want to try."

-

Yena was pressed up against the pillows of your "couch", clothes laid discarded to the side in a large pile. Legs spread open as she left herself open to your shared desires. Her arousal was irresistible, body open for your next move, one guided by her earlier confession of her interests. You rested just below her, body next to the inches she wanted you to prove you loved.

You reached your destination, locking eyes with hers as you took your first lick of her asshole, starting slow, teasing her as you breathed in her body wash. The same company provided scent from infi-soap. Mixed with her arousal, creating an intoxicating cocktail of scents you couldn't get enough of. Your licks remained slow and deliberate as you circled her asshole, becoming wet with your saliva as she let out delicate gasps.

"Hmmm fuck.. That's really good.." Yena let out, her voice breathy and empty.

You kept licking, getting more ambitious as your had moved up to her clit, rubbing softly, soft gasps turned into loud moans as they pierced your ears. A sweet chorus filling the room. Your mind was clouded with only thoughts of her as you devoured her awaiting asshole.

Minutes passed as you two enjoyed each other, your tongue grew tired as she grinded her cunt against the bridge of your nose, you could feel her closeness, legs tightening on your shoulders.

"Fuck! Y/N baby, I'm gonna cum fuck!" she screamed, her orgasm hit her like a fright train as her body stopped moving, your tongue kept moving while she came undone. Moans slowed down as the world came to a halt.

"Every inch Yena, I told you." You said cheekily.

"Y-Yeah. I think I've got that" she replied, struggling to get the words out.

You didn't bother to tell her about the agonising pain in your leg.

-

The first major expedition to find resources begun the next morning.

The brisk air wrapped around the trees, endless forests were in front of you. Strange yellow and black creatures flew between the large trees, landing on a small lilac flower. You limped behind Yena, she carried both axes while you held onto food, small scraps incase someone got hungry.

"Here, There's a good amount of wood and I don't see anything dangerous, let's get cutting" She said, an axe suddenly appeared in your hand.

The wood was difficult to cut, leverage was difficult as every swung nearly knocked you over due to the instability of your leg. Worry filled your body, if it came to it. Could you save the person you loved?

You looked over at Yena, already on her sixth tree as you hadn't even cut your first, her elegance was undeniable as each swing was optimised to cut wood down in as few strokes as possible. Leaving nothing but logs in her wake.

Your axe penetrated the surface of the wood, slicing it in half as it fell into the ground, another slice, dividing it again as your arms burned. The wood finally divided into pieces of usable material that could be reshaped, picking it up as you moved to the next one.

-

You and Yena finished cutting wood for the day, but you didn't go home yet. Pulling out the blanket from your food box Yena made out of spare materials on board the ship. Laying it down gently on the ground.

You two took some bread and cheese out the box, food generously given from one of the nice members of the settlement. Yena sat crosslegged, combining the food together as she took a bite, face beaming with joy as she ate non-bland food for the first time in weeks.

She brought the food to your mouth, pressing it against your lips as you opened, accepting Yena's offer, the crunch of the bland bread contrasting the salty cheese. It tasted divine, most likely because you shared it with Yena.

You two sat in each others company, like most of your time. Not a single day since this expedition had you removed from Yena, and you liked that.

Yena pouted slightly, "Are you not going to offer me food?" her voice whiney as she made pleading eyes. Your hands reached towards the food as she slapped them away.

"No, not that food... I want something a bit more.. Personal" Her hand went to your crotch, pressing it slightly as she looked into your eyes.

"God your insatiable" You chuckled as you gave her easier access. Kicking the basket out the way to not spoil the meal.

"You love me for it."

"I love you for everything."

She smiled as her hands started to undo your pants, unzipping them quickly as she tried to free you from your confines. Pulling them down and leaving them half way down your legs, her eyes locking with yours as she made out with your clothed tip, saliva wettening the fabric as she teased you. She moved up, her teeth grabbing the waistband of your underwear, pulling it down in one delicate motion as your rigid shaft went out to greet her. Tapping her nose slightly.

Her hand gripped your base, the sudden feeling caught a shocked gasp out of your throat. She licked at your tip rapidly, several short bursts of pleasure ruptured out of the spots she blessed with her holy tongue, contrasting the sinful actions she administered.

She went lower, performing longer more deep strokes of her tongue. Licking up and down as she pressed your dick firmly against her tongue, her mouth releasing delicate hums as she reveled in your pleasure. Her head game has improved tenfold from her first time by that campfire. Her spare hand going down to rub your balls, compartively like ice compared to the warmth of her mouth. Slowly rubbing in circles as it brought you further into heaven.

Your hips instinctively thrusted into Yena's mouth as her lips were penetrated by your length, sucking her cheeks in as her walls pressed into your cock. Her hands moved away, pressing against your back. Providing enough leeway to press her mouth to the hilt, a few soft gags cams out her mouth. Bobbing up and down as she dragged her mouth from the top to the bottom. Slamming violently against your crotch, tears cropping against her eyes as she gave you the best head of your life.

Your hands grasped at her hair, finding leverage in the silky strands, thrusting stronger as she braced your impact, you knew you weren't going to last any longer, holding her into your base as you shot ropes of semen down her throat. Giving her the meal she wanted.

Her face withdrew, spit connecting you two as she caught her breath. Smiling slightly as she stroked your sensitive length, trying to prevent it from softening. You let out painful gasps as she continued.

"Thanks for the meal" She smiled, before hastily removing the bottom half of her outfit, leaving her cunt fully exposed to nature, you immediately felt ready to go again. The song of nature was playing in your ears, sounds of birds and the wind all around you. It was beautiful, you never got to hear this before. Old earth had no birds when you arrived, all long since dead due to the lack of oxygen.

You were took back out of your thoughts as Yena hovered over you, pressing down impatiently as she took you inside her, her walls gripping on you tightly, you two let out a shared moan with the overpowering sensation, thrusting upwards. Meeting her halfway as you ignored the pleading from your leg.

She leaned forward, clothed breasts in front of your face as Yena kept bouncing, there were no words for her beauty, no words for the shared passion you two engaged in. You greedily pulled off her shirt, Yena providing assistance as you threw it over her head. Taking her bra off revealing her boobs. Something you've indulged in countless times, each time a spectacle as you took one into your mouth. Holding her close as you sucked intensely, moans launching out her mouth as she kept bouncing. Keeping the same pace for several minutes, feeling like hours as you enjoyed the pleasure.

Your hands ran down to her ass, providing firm squeezes as you played with her flesh. Alternating minor slaps between her cheeks, every inch of her was perfect.

"Ugh, oh my god! Y/N, I'm cumming!" Her pussy gripped on you even tighter than before, squeezing you roughly as she came undone.

You felt the familiar pressure creeping all you, shuddering as you pulled her off. Frantically stroking your shaft up and down as you dribbled semen all over her midriff, some splashing on her breasts. You two smiled as you admired the specs of white on her body.

"God, Yena you are incredible.. I love you" You said.

"I know I know, goofball. Let's get home so we can clean up." She replied, putting her clothes on, ignoring the semen that pressed onto her shirt. Picking up her things and you two walked home.

-

Weeks passed as you two provided contributions to the growing society, providing materials that made new buildings, everyone now had their own personal home. Including you and Yena, you two chose to live in the same one. The house was cozy, constructed out of the wood you two had gathered, taking the parts out the ship that was viable to slot into your new home. The main improvement was the bed, significantly bigger than the ones the company had provided, Yena had done her usual decorative work on it, putting the plushies she had earlier on the sides.

The village felt full of life, everyone got along with you two except the boss. Who seemed to still resent you. But you two were happy.

You two completed several resource hunts, but you were always warned to never go out at night. You two were already inseperatable, only tightening together more by the time you spent.

-

You and Yena were sleeping, the day long over as you two rested in each others arms. "AHHHHH! FUCK THERE'S A LOT OF THEM! GET BACK" The loud sounds of screams tore you from sleep, shaking Yena frantically out of dreamland, looking at you in confusion as she rubbed her eyes.

The screams grew louder, "Yena, we've gotta get out there!" you two jumped into action, limping to your desk as you grabbed your knife. Yena right behind you with her axe, desperately opening the door as the sights petrified you.

Light fixtures knocked over as strange beasts approached the village, they were a deep brown, covered in horrific amounts of fur. Large in stature as they towered over you, large sharp nails dug out from their hands. They slowly charged the heart of the village, ready to wreck destruction in their path.

You looked at the gate, undamaged but open. Shit.. "Yena! The gates open, they'll keep coming if we don't get it closed!" You yelled. She nodded as you two started to rush towards it. Another scream rippled out from the other side of the village "HELP! WE CAN'T HOLD THEM OFF!" You two stood at a crossroads, they couldn't die. "Yena, listen to me! Help them! I'll get the gate! Go!" You commanded, she ran off in their direction.

A storm broke out overhead, loud tears of thunder as rain dropped down overhead, drenching the dirt floor, saturating it in water creating a thick mud. Every step stuck to you as you desperately pushed forward to the gate. Approaching the large structure, monsters came into frame out the woods. It was now or never, grabbing onto the handle. Struggling against the wet floor as you pulled it towards the right.

You were nearly done, just a bit closer..

A large hand appeared in the small crevice left in the gate, grabbing onto your arm as it cut through your clothes. The surge of water even colder as it landed against your skin. You pulled out your knife, struggling against the grip of the monster, you panicked. Jabbing against the vein of the monster as you tried to get away. It roared in pain as your knife went further in, dark maroon poured out the wound as you stabbed again, and again, it resisted against your actions.

One final jab and the monster's arm withdrew out the gate. Slamming the gate against the wall as you let out a sigh of relief, grabbing a small plank of wood to trap the handle. Slashes of claws banged out through the gate, it'd hold, it would have to hold.

"HELP!!!! SHIT!" It was Yena, your heart dropped as you turned. Her neck was being held by one of the disgusting monsters, desperately struggling against it's grasp. You ran towards her, knife at the draw. The burning singe of pain in your leg knocked you into the ground, coating your clothes in a thick sludge of mud as you couldn't move. Yena was in danger and you couldn't do anything.

"Get off her!" You looked up, the boss dived a knife into the monsters knee, a large wail came from its throat as it threw Yena into a wall. A large crash rolling out as she fell unconscious, tears pickled at your eyes as you tried to hold it together.

The monster jabbed it's claws into the head of the pilot as his knife slit the monsters throat. Falling down together in a pile of death. The village went quiet, only the sounds of rain filled the air. The beasts by the gates no longer present as their roars disappeared.

You got up, entire body covered in mud as you frantically got to Yena. Her body slumped over against the wooden wall, you picked her up. "SECURE THE VILLAGE, IM GOING WITH YENA!" Carrying her over your shoulder. Bringing her home. The rage of the night now over.

Please be okay.

Yena.

----

A/N - part 4? Hope you enjoyed!

[ponett]

So, I know a lot of fans rn seem to be thinking the Sonic movies will just keep going on forever like the mcu, but realistically how many more projects do you think there's actually likely to be in the Sonic movie universe and how many characters do you think actually have a likelihood of showing up?

Yeah, it's incredibly easy to find fan posters that assume we'll get a dozen movies until literally every character from Mighty and Ray to Infinite is included, but I don't really think that's gonna happen. I know Paramount certainly wants to keep going indefinitely, but I have to assume that everything is riding on how well 4 does.

If Carrey doesn't come back that'll probably hurt the movie's appeal to general audiences, and as I've said many times it's going to be extremely hard to top the hype of Shadow. So I can totally see a future where Sonic 4 is greeted with "oh, they made another one of those?", it doesn't do that great, and that's it for the live action movies. Maybe somewhere in there they also do a Shadow streaming miniseries. If audiences really are receptive to Amy and Metal Sonic and whatever else is in that movie (Silver? since it seems to be a time travel movie?), then maybe they make one or two more movies after that. But unless they REALLY do gangbusters, I don't see them going forever.

Anyway, as for characters I think have a possibility of showing up, my list is: the other variants of Metal/Mecha Sonic, Silver, Blaze, Rouge, Omega, Team Chaotix, and Big. Silver and Blaze are super popular among fans and have flashy powers that would look cool in a movie, so they're probably inevitable if the series keeps going. The writers have literally wanted to include Rouge in all three movies, so they'll probably figure her out eventually. Maybe Eggman Nega if they have to replace Carrey and they're feeling spicy, since he'd go with Silver and/or Blaze. Maybe Black Doom, if they decide to go all in on Shadow's lore, since that meteorite he came to Earth on sure did have a Black Arms vibe. I wouldn't have expected this a few years ago, but after Shadow Generations, who knows? I don't see them using Mephiles or Infinite or whoever. That's getting too deep into the weeds. I feel like they'd be more likely to just use random GUN agents as villains, like in the Knuckles show. And I doubt they'll ever touch the comic cast.

As much as we love the extended Sonic cast, there are only so many characters left who could really get butts in seats, and eventually the novelty of these movies is going to wear off. Though I do hope that after the live action movies run out of steam, Paramount will want to do an animated one. You know, like they should've done from the start.

[moonlight-alexia]

Kyra has been off lately, so Steph and the others arange for tiny to surprise her. (When tiny is at lyon, like in your blurb.)

going through my asks and just got a bit of motivation to write this little blurb :)

reunited - kyra cooney-cross x catley!reader

With yours and Kyra's schedules combined with being in two different countries, the last month there had been an inevitable distance between the two of you. Neither of you meant for it to happen, it was just hard to navigate and work out a long distance relationship initially.

You'd gone from playing together, seeing each other all the time, to only being able to facetime when you were both free and half the time it ended up being at night where you or Kyra would fall asleep so quickly.

Kyra understood, but it didn't make any of it easier. Especially when you got injured. It wasn't anything serious or long-term but it was enough to put you out of the team for the next few weeks. But it also meant you'd miss the next international camp.

Kyra saw it happen before you'd even had the chance to tell her yourself. Not being able to be there and to help you made it worse for her. It wasn't your fault you got injured or that Kyra felt this way, she couldn't help it.

Kyra's change in mood was very noticeable. She'd gone from being her goofy, silly and annoying self to quiet and sulking whenever she had the chance.

'Is Kyra okay?' You asked Steph, you decided to call her since Kyra hadn't answered you in a few days.

'Well she's alive and going to training,' Steph trailed off a little, unsure of how to answer. She didn't want to worry her sister but she didn't want to lie to her either.

'But is she okay?' Your voice came through more firmly.

Steph hesitated, you hadn't taken everything when you moved to Lyon most of your room at her place was untouched, staring through the wall like she could see into your room.

She knew Kyra was there, she had been every day this past week. With a sigh your older sister told you everything, you already had a feeling but she confirmed it.

'Long time no see. Lyon's already roughing you up,' Leah nudged your shoulder gently once you'd made your way through the airport. Not easy since you were back on crutches trying your best not to be knocked over by the people rushing around the airport.

'Bet you're happy 'bout this, means arsenal won't lose by as much as now in the first leg,' You joked around, Leah took your backpack from you making it a bit easy to get around.

'You watch it, I'll leave you here,' You knew Leah was all talk and wouldn't actually, but you still played along.

'And then have to face my sister after you abandoned her poor helpless little sister,' Giving Leah a pout and a faux helpless look, one that she just rolled her eyes to and kept on walking.

You had a few days off and got the okay to be able to travel back to England to surprise Kyra. You did get a half hearted message yesterday from her, you were a little bit nervous.

What if Kyra didn't actually want to see you. Steph and Leah both put those worries to rest, reassuring you that your visit would be good for Kyra. Good for the both of you.

'Ellie and Daan said they'd take care of you, now look at you,' Steph gave you a tight hug, you didn't realise how much you'd missed your older sister.

'They are Stephy, can't blame them for this,' You laughed, 'In my room?' Steph nodded her head and you made your way towards your room. It was weird to be back here, felt like no time had passed but it had been months since you called Steph's apartment your home.

'Hey Ky,' You whispered, opening the door to your room. Kyra's eyes widened and she looked up at you. Rubbing her eyes, making sure you were actually in front of her and not just a hallucination.

Her eyes softened when she noticed the crutches and immediately went to you. Kyra’s arms wrapping around you tightly, you struggling to get your arms free of the crutches to hug her back. 

You both stayed like that for a while. Enjoying being in each other's embrace, Kyra’s arms that you desperately missed, ‘I missed you,’ You whispered against Kyra’s neck.

‘I missed you too,’ Eventually you both pulled away from each other enough to be able to make your way to your bed. The one Kyra had been living in when she wasn’t at training. One of your hoodies on a pillow, you smiled slightly but didn’t comment on it knowing Kyra would get slightly embarrassed over it.

Kyra laid with her back against the headboard, you were laying between her legs, your head against her chest. Making sure you were keeping your injured leg in a way that wouldn’t hurt it further. Your hand was tangled with Kyra’s, gently rubbing and playing with her fingers.

‘I know it’s hard but you can’t shut me out. Please don’t do that Ky,’ You pressed yourself closer to Kyra, afraid she might disappear from you if you had any distance between you both.

‘I promise I’ll do better,’ Kyra whispered against the top of your head, pressing her lips against your forehead, ‘I’m glad you’re here with me right now,’

[iseriads-nonesense]

This sparked a thought. And here is the result:

For nearly three thousand years, the great dragon Vaelzryth had hollowed out the mountain known as Hearthpeak, carving vast tunnels, sweeping caverns, and spiraling chambers meant to be his lair. He had once been young, wild, and reckless, soaring down from his mountain perch to demand tribute from those below—threatening flame and claw, demanding riches, taking what he desired.

But even a dragon can grow wiser with age. As centuries passed, he realized that merchants and blacksmiths, travelers and nobles, all had something he could use: gold. Not just coin, but gilded artifacts, ingots, crowns, and statues. Gold was power, and if power could be bartered instead of stolen, why waste the effort of terrorizing those who could be convinced to bring it willingly?

So Vaelzryth changed. He struck deals, exchanged protection for wealth, carried merchants to distant lands on his back in exchange for their fortunes. His claws, once used for rending flesh, became the means by which he inscribed trade agreements, and his fire, once used to raze villages, was instead offered as a forge’s heat for the greatest of smiths.

Over time, his hoard grew. And grew. And grew.

He never stopped digging his home deeper, hollowing out every chamber, carving out halls meant to hold more, and more, and more. First, he filled his great vault. Then his personal den. Then the tunnels leading to them. He lost count of the ingots that piled atop each other like dunes, the coins that ran like rivers through the halls. The wealth he had once sought to possess now possessed him, swallowing every inch of the mountain.

And then, one day, Vaelzryth left to stretch his wings, to take in the skies as he often did, and when he returned, he realized something terrible.

He could not get back inside.

The entrance, once a towering gateway into the heart of his domain, had been buried under the weight of his own greed. He landed before it, golden eyes narrowing as he swept a claw against the vast mound blocking his way. Coins spilled, an avalanche of wealth tumbling down, but it was useless—there was no clearing a way through.

He tried another entrance—one he had carved high upon the slopes, a narrow shaft leading into the deepest chambers of his hoard. But when he reached it, he found it just as impassable, choked with the same golden flood.

A growl rumbled in his throat, and for the first time in centuries, he felt a twinge of something foreign. What now?

He paced. He muttered. He thought. And as he sat there, perched atop a mountain that was now a fortress of nothing but gold, he realized the absurdity of it all.

I have spent three thousand years amassing this hoard, he mused, and now I cannot even enjoy it.

For days, he brooded upon the summit, glaring at the sky, snapping at the wind. He refused to admit it was a problem—he was a dragon, and dragons did not have problems. Dragons were problems. And yet here he sat, locked out of his own hoard by his own hand, with no solution in sight.

Then, a thought.

A wild, impossible, utterly mad thought.

If his wealth had trapped him, then perhaps it was time he let some of it go.

At first, the idea repulsed him. Give up his gold? The very thought was sacrilegious. But then, what good was it if he could never reach it again? Slowly, reluctantly, he began to devise a plan.

He sent word to the merchants he had once traded with, to the kings and lords who still whispered his name in awe and fear. He offered a gift—not a demand, not a deal, but an outright boon. Chests of treasure, artifacts lost to time, statues of pure gold—all to be taken from the endless hoard that now imprisoned him.

In exchange, all he asked was for the hands of craftsmen. Dwarves, humans, elves—those skilled in stone and steel, in architecture and artifice. He called upon those who had once feared him and those who had once revered him, and for the first time, he did not ask for gold in return.

The response was immediate.

They came in droves, some hesitant, some bold, some awed by the sheer impossibility of what they saw. They carved new pathways, tunneled new halls, reshaped the mountain into something livable rather than just a vault of greed.

And in doing so, they built something else—something new.

A city.

Not of man, nor elf, nor dwarf, but something entirely unique—a place where all who had aided in the great reshaping could find a home, a stronghold that was part dragon’s lair, part golden metropolis.

And at the heart of it all, Vaelzryth remained—not a king, not a tyrant, but something more.

A guardian.

A patron.

A dragon who had learned, after three thousand years, that wealth was not meant to be hoarded—it was meant to be used.

Aliens would be weirded out by fiction or fantasy

So I KNOW this one has been done, but it bears repeating cuz the idea of it is HILARIOUS.

We wanna write/draw a fictional world, we just sit there starring at screens or a blank sheet of paper for HOURS vividly hallucinating intricate and complex universes that have never happened before and usually couldn’t happen in reality, with laws of physics that follow no known law in our existence. Imagine a species that’d didn’t really get it, say they’re more practical and less inclined to whimsy, a real no nonsense type of aliens.

Alien: human what are you doing?

Human: I’m thinking

Alien: about what?

Human: how a dragon could hoard so much gold it fills a mountain

Alien: …is that a normal occurrence on your world?

Human: what? No, I’m writing short stories for November. It’s a fictional creature, they don’t exist on earth. Think those big reptilian things on Trigor 7 and you’d be close tho, except they have wings and breath fire

Alien: that is inherently worse, I would not like to think about that at all ever again. Why would you want to inflict such a terrible idea on another sentient entity?

Human: I mean…mostly for fun

Alien: …deathworlders *shakes head and sighs*

[starcharmed]

— CALLING CARDS

summary : receive and accept things that come to you as if they are nothing.

cw : mentioned stalking, fem reader, open ending? just brain and word rot | wc : 1.4k+ | extra : thank you @akutasoda for reading first & your sweet words <3

The man with the briefcase appeared outside of your shop more times than you would be happy with calling it off as simple timing. 

His “visit” schedule was odd. 

He would peek within your shop’s windows, browsing mindlessly before disappearing.. The process repeated until he left completely for the night. Always between six and nine post meridian. It wasn’t exactly something odd to do, a lot of people are prone to windowshop. However, stopping numerous times within a day repetitively was worrying.

Your curiosity seemed to peek during the next week of his visits. Rarely stopping by, you assumed he was either a businessman traveling to and fro or an office worker whom stopping by for ideas of his own pertaining to flowers. At least those were the ones you concluded to, as they made the most logical sense.

The coworker you had the…pleasure of working with mentioned him on the side. Claiming that you should report him if you saw him again. He told ‘horror’ stories about how he slapped people at subway stations and smiled like those Kit-Cat Klocks. You digressed, not caring anymore if he was going on to avoid the worry about the mysterious man harming you and instead continue to criticize his person.

Your coworker scoffed, calling for his lunch break (five minutes earlier than usual, mind you) and left you. The bell stationed at the top of the shop’s entrance door screamed in alarm as he left. You’d think the building was on fire. The bell sung a gentle, quieter chime as you lifted your head, waiting to see if it was your coworker coming back in to apologize for the aggressiveness of his departure.

You were mistaken. 

There stood the mysterious man with a smile on his face, a briefcase in hand as he stepped forward to the counter, “Good evening, miss.” Even his voice was appealing. You greeted him the same as you watched his eyes dart around, scrutinizing the flowers on exhibit.

Looking closer, your coworker seemed to not be exaggerating when he spoke about his smile.

“Are you looking for anything specific?” His eyes returned back to you, one of his eyebrows raising slightly before settling back in place, “Since it’s spring, we have a more diverse section available. I’d be happy to help.” You’re sure he knew it was, in fact, your job to help; but, it still didn’t hurt ot say it aloud. 

His smile seemed to widen, “Do you have a favorite flower that’s present?”

Blinking at the personal question, you didn’t have to look around to answer, “Peony.They’re lovely to watch bloom if you buy a bouquet with younger ones.” You had cared for the peonies present to your fullest, wanting them to be the stars of your shop. 

A nod in return. “Then I’ll have two bouquets of those.”

His gaze felt searing  as you worked to get two bouquets fixed for him. It was as if he studying every one of your mannerisms, it unnerved you. But you were being stared at by one of the most attractive men you’ve ever laid eyes on, so who were you to complain. Once you finished, he paid with some of the freshest bills you’ve ever touched in life before nodding and leaving. You ran your fingers over them, relishing in the feel of them.

He watched you do so through the window with a saccharine smile forming on his lips. 

You didn’t have time to pick up any food, closing up later thanks to a slouchy costumer who took ten minutes giving out an order to pick up the next day. The spring air still seemed to have a chill, and you contemplated using those fresh bills to buy a new coat for next winter. You delicately closed the door to your apartment complex behind you as the receptionist beconned you to come closer, crouching down just a bit so she could grab something.

“A lovely young man left these”, she seemed giddy as she stood up fully, her wrinkles that came with age creasing lovely as she held out the gift in her arms to you, “Addressed to you, fully by name. He even gave a description that made my skin flush.”

The chill that dissipated when you enjoyed the building began to creep up your spine again. Playing tunes against the ridges of it. Those were the flowers, the bouquets, you had fixed Mister Mystery Man. 

“They’re…lovely.” “Ah, I know right! You’re a lucky girl.” She seemed to read your shock in positive note, folding her hands once you took the bouquet in your hands, “Take care of them now, miss. This gift seemed one made of affection. Best not let it rot out.” With a curt nod you gave your best smile, turning and shakily reaching into your bag to grasp your keys. What the hell? How did he know your name, nonetheless know where you lived? Surely your coworker didn’t say every piece of information he knew about you to mystery man. Besides, your coworker didn’t seem to be found of Mystery Man, either. 

Resiting the urge to chunk the flowers into the bin the second you stepped into your apartment room, the remembrance of how they were, in a sense, your babies seemed to make the situation a bit more morbid. But did you really want to throw out a gift from Mystery Man?

No.

Not because you were scared of the wrath of…whoever he was, but because they were also free flowers. You weren’t one to turn those down, really. Grabbing a vase from one of the cabinets, you went to fill it with water before your phone buzzed in your bag.

Oh great, another annoyance you needed right now. 

Huffing you reached within the cavern that was the interior of your bag, pulling out your phone. ‘Unknown Number’. Pursing your lips, you tried to recall anyone you didn’t have saved. Your coworker? Well yeah you didn’t want to be associated with him more than work relations. No one else rung in your mind, but you felt obliged to answer it. Best not make someone else irritated, you could take your own frustration out on your pillow instead of not answering a random’s number.

“Hello?”

“Did you get the gift I dropped off?”

You were going to collapse. It was him. Mysterious Man, the stupid bitch. You could practically hear the smugness floating off of his voice. Your grip on your phone tightened, “What do you want?”

“Do you always talk to people who give you things like this? If so, you have horrible manners.” Says the guy who gathered information on you without consent, “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I think you know I did”, he hummed. It sounded akin to how a satisfied cat purrs, and it made you even more frustrated that you noticed that about him, “Now answer my question.”

Almost expecting to go back-and-forth, he didn’t waste any time responding, “I just wanted to check up on you. A lady such as yourself walking to your apartment alone? Dangerous conditions.” Was there anyway you could reach your hand in your phone and punch him as shown in those 1950’s, 1960’s American cartoons?

“I’m fine, thank you very much.” Gritting your teeth, you cursed the world for putting his presence in your life.

“You’re welcome.”

This guy. 

“Goodnight-”

“Please don’t do that.” You paused, thumb hovering over the end call button, he almost sounded desperate, “I promise I just want to talk to you.”

With a heavy sigh you brought the phone back to your ear, “You could’ve just asked, in the shop. I would’ve given you my number. And you wouldn’t have had to do some secret spy agent shit to get it.” He laughed softly the sound ringing in your ears. It sounded hoarse, as if it hadn’t been used in a genuine way for a while.

“You’re entertaining.”

Talking as if you were some circus animal, such a charmer. 

“I’ll be stopping by tomorrow, just so you know.”

“At the shop or my apartment?” You glanced out your apartment’s window, squinting your eyes at the figure standing near the corner of the block. Are you serious…

“You’ll see.” With a beep he ended the call as soon as you were directly in front of the window. The figure was clearer. You were right in your suspicion, it was Mystery Man. Waving at you with a smile, you unlocked your window. Opening it and your mouth to speak, you didn’t get a chance before a car passed from one side of the road to another. 

And just like that, he was gone again. 

[strfall]

that 2000s rom com you’d seen a million times was on blast in the background, one you could quote word for word. but you had no idea what was going on now, not when your mind was otherwise wholly occupied by every inch of your skin that was touching her’s. you’ve had a few glasses of wine.. or maybe a couple bottles between the two of you. but the truly intoxicating thing was the subtle smell of her perfume and the way her legs tangled with yours as she held your fingers in place, swiping a sparkling blue polish over your nails.

“there,” she gave a curt nod, satisfied with her work as she pulls away from her focus on your hand, sealing the bottle of polish and setting it aside. her voice breaks through the trance she had you in and you tear your gaze from her cute, focused expression to admire the color on your nails.

“oooh, so pretty,” you coo absently and when she untangles herself from you to pour herself another glass of wine, it’s almost painful. of course she didn’t have far to go, not in your shoebox of a new york studio apartment. but any farther than pressed directly against your skin and it almost felt like all those miles were between you again.

you and tashi had been best friends in high school. absolutely inseparable. even when she would travel far and wide to be a nationally beloved tennis star. but then college rolled around and took you to opposite sides of the country; her to sunny california and stanford, and you to chase your dreams in the big apple. but everything felt right again whenever she had time to come and visit you.

“you know… patrick texted me again the other day,” she hums, plopping down in front of you again on that fuzzy rug, full wine glass in hand.

you couldn’t contain the eye roll at the mention of her scumbag of an ex boyfriend. “you didn’t respond, right?” you ask, raising your eyebrows at her as she (thankfully) leans into your space again.

“fuck no,” she answers with a scoff. “i’m sick of men. i think i should just give them up all together,”

you can’t help but chuckle at that. if only. “yeah, boys suck…”

“have you ever been with a girl?” she asks suddenly over her glass, her back straightening as her gaze examines you carefully.

it nearly makes you choke, your eyes widening comically. “uh– no…” it wasn’t a lie, but you can’t say you haven’t dreamt of it. of being with one girl in particular.

“would you ever want to try it?” her eyes are sparkling in that way when she has some kind of idea and she’s shifting to sit up on her knees.

your heart was hammering in your ears, unsure if what you were seeing was even real anymore. was this another one of those dreams? were you going to wake up beside her with her arms wound around you and feel like an absolute perv again, having just had some fucked up dream about sleeping with your best friend?

“i mean, yeah, i– i think i would, sure,” you stammer a bit, trying to fight off the heat rising to your cheeks.

“so…” tashi’s leaning forward on her hands, her face only inches from yours now. an inch away from more than just friends. “can… i kiss you?”

your eyes are big and stunned but you can’t tear them away from the deep expanse of her dark irises, begging you to say yes. and that yes is the only thing on your mind right now. yes, yes, god, yes. but all you can do is give a little nod, your breath caught in your throat.

and then her lips are gently pressed to yours and it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. she’s so soft and sweet and you have to keep yourself from moaning against her at the simplest touch.

then her lips start moving against yours and you’re absolutely a goner. you melt into the kiss, scooting a bit closer to her to rest your hand on her thigh, her hand coming up to cup your cheek as she deepens the kiss.

her lips taste like that cheap red wine from the bodega down the street and it’s beginning to feel even more intoxicating than from out of the bottle. especially when her tongue licks into your mouth, her body pushing forward to be even closer to you.

“tashi…” you gasp, breaking away just slightly as your head starts to spin with sheer need. “touch me.”

and she happily obliges.

[bakahimesama]

The Allmother: An Entirely too Long Analysis

In the whole demo, we only get one completely missable set of dialogue on this potential deity.

But that is more than enough information for me to start speculating. The two important parts to break down here are her supposed connection to the hearth and thus fire, and her title of Allmother.

A hearth is the part of a house where fires are made and kept (a fireplace is the modern day equivalent). Traditionally, before the advent of stoves and furnaces, this fire was used both for heating the house and cooking meals. It was considered one of the most important parts of the home, and so by extension, the spirits and deities that lived in the hearth and controlled the hearth fire were the most important beings to the household and its survival.

Hestia, Greek goddess of the hearth, was given the first offering of every domestic sacrifice, and at feasts she was granted the first and last sip of wine.

Gabija is the Lithuanian spirit of fire, who was offered bread and salt to feed her. If you did something to disrespect the hearth, like spitting or peeing in it, she was known to burn the house down. Later she would become known as the hearth goddess Matka Gabia.

The Ainu people worship Kamuy-huci, who lived in the hearth and controlled the gateway between humans and the divine. Deceased souls would reside in the hearth alongside her, and so keeping it clean was vital to ensuring those souls could eventually reincarnate properly.

Jowangshin is the hearth goddess of Korean shamanism, and relayed to the heavens the going-ons and behaviors of each household's inhabitants. She is described as vengeful towards those who do not respect their hearths, and actively works against such individuals.

The pattern between all of these deities is clear. The hearth is controlled by a woman who is deserving of the utmost respect. And it is pointless to think on the hearth without tying it to the element it is tasked with controlling and maintaining, fire. Hestia is sometimes described as a living flame, Gabija is originally a fire spirit, in some myths Kamuy-huci is born from a fire producing drill, Jowangshin is the goddess of fire alongside the hearth. To say that a hearth goddess is also a fire goddess is no great stretch of the imagination.

But why does the Allmother's connection with fire matter? Because we're all rather familiar with a certain being who is constantly being associated with fire, flames, and especially warmth:

Right from the beginning, before we even know what he looks like.

In non canon events.

In teasers for the game.

And of course, in the demo itself.

Kuras is a furnace, and we're not allowed to forget it. And wouldn't it just make sense, that the angels of a hearth goddess are themselves related to fire? Kuras is an angel, which means he responds to a higher being, why not this one? What that means for his route, I can only image.

Back to the original text, the traveler is praying that the Allmother will be forgiving of sins, implying that part of her domain includes the right to judge lives and morality. She is also believed to guide lives "unto her hearth," likely at the time of death considering the context of when the pray is being uttered. Which leads me to believe that she is responsible for helping souls pass on peacefully, but only if she deems them worthy of her fire. Since in many cultures a "good" death is a very important end goal to pursue, staying in her favor would be considered paramount to those who believe in her.

Moving on to her title, the name suggests that she is either the deity of a monotheistic religion and thus naturally all encompassing, or a major deity in a polytheistic pantheon. Either way, there are only so many interpretations one can dissect from a title that implies an all encompassing claim of maternal jurisdiction.

If nothing else, I suspect she is considered a mother to her angels. Whether or not Kuras will even bring her up is debatable, since I could just be seeing connections that aren't really there. But as an angel I'm sure he'll at least drop the name of the being he's serving penance for.

Maybe she won't be mentioned ever again. Maybe she'll be an integral part of Kuras' route. Maybe she'll be a passing mention that isn't nearly as important as such a name suggests. Regardless this break down has helped me better understand Kuras' themes, and has made me even more excited to play his route.