#either maintenance or IT for the camp

[lesbianstarlightglimmer]

Remembering the time I was essentially forced to go to a week long camp thing that was to like encourage girls to get into government? and so it’s allll girls and the main thing that came from it is me tumbling harder into being gay

[writers-potion]

Hi there! Do you have any tips on how to write a secret society? Whether it's a good or evil society?

Writing Sauce for Secret Societies

Secret (Hidden) vs. Secretive/Classified

An important distinction to make while writing exclusive societies is the extent to which they shirk the eyes of the public and/or government:

“Secret” or “Hidden” societies push their existence under the rug. No one but the members know of their activities at all. (e.g. Camp Half-Blood from the Percy Jackson series, the wizarding society of the Harry Potter series)

“Secretive” or “classified” societies exist publicly with a clear purpose. However, the specifics of their activities are only disclosed to his members. (e.g. the CIA, higher-ranked military organizations)

While secret societies are often illegal, rebellious, or anarchist, secretive societies are legal and institutional. 

Here are some other elements that I think a secret society requires. The specifics of how these are implemented will depend on the size of your society. 

The Origin Story 

What is the society’s motto? Who created it? Why do the members/the public need it? 

A goddess creates a secret society of demigods to protect them from monsters. 

A professor creates a secret society to teach illegal materials to his best students. 

A society of the undead striving for survival on Earth after the

Membership Requirements & Rules

How many newbies? How are they recruited? Any consequences if prospective members fail? Any initiation practices? Consequences for breaking the rules? 

Inheriting a particular bloodline: demigods, half-angels/demons, royal blood, etc. 

Becoming a supernatural creature: vampire, zombie, werewolf, etc. 

A rigorous interview/testing process (could be similar to a job interview)

Sending prospective members on a dangerous mission 

Existing members paying prospective members a visit in the middle of the night

Sending out dream messages and instructions for initiation constantly until potential members are obliged to come.

The Cover-Up Story 

How does your society keep itself hidden? How do they cover up for their mistakes if classified information leaks out? 

Killing any witnesses and outsiders. 

Exerting control over media/news/government organizations (either back-door or legally)

Using a magical cover: memory-redaction, mist/veil that manipulates appearances, etc. 

The power bestowed by the society upon their members are immediately withdrawn upon excommunication or if they break rules 

The cover-up story has to be stronger for larger, ancient secret societies to make it plausible that they’ve managed to survive hidden. Think of strong mechanisms that makes it the members’ own interests to keep the society protected, even though it may cost them their life. 

Funding and Maintenance

Where does the society get its money/weapons/materials from? 

Generational wealth that the members’ family possess. 

Secret governmental/university funding, obtained under someone else’s name

Having members who are placed in high-ranking position in companies, banks, the government, etc. 

Could be as simple as a trust fund/endowment fund run under a fake name (e.g paper company, a fake family name that is handed down from one society leader to another) 

Hope this helps!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! Also, join my Tumblr writing community for some more fun.

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

[apas-95]

Couldnt it be argued that the US is still a slave republic? Domestically, there is slave labor through the prison system, human and labor trafficking, and only a few decades ago, if at that, systems such as convict leasing, share cropping, and debt peonage. Internationally, there is also the fact that for conflict minerals, coffee, chocolate, and other commodities, a portion if not the majority of it is sourced from slave labor.

The use of slavery in and of itself doesn't constitute the slave-society stage of production. Slavery continues to exist under feudalism and capitalism, but not as the driving force of society as in the ancient slave republics. Politically, in the modern USA, it is the bourgeoisie that are in power; and economically, it is the exploitation of waged labour (much of it overseas) that is the basis of production.

Further, slaves in the US are owned either by the state, in state prisons, and leased to private companies; or owned by large companies directly in private prisons. The individual or smallholder ownership of slaves was done away with in the USA's previous civil war: carried out between the industrial haute-bourgeois of the developed north, and the agricultural petty gentry of the southern hinterland. Slaves in the US today are the exclusive property of the bourgeoisie, through their corporations or bourgeois state.

While large amounts of raw materials are sourced through slave labour, as are agricultural goods, slave labour in the broadest sense is not applicable to industrial production of the type required by modern capitalism - if for nothing else than reasons of profitability. The slave labourer is effectively themselves human capital, part of the machinery bought wholesale - while they still effectively carry out labour, they fundamentally do not produce surplus value in the same manner as a wage-worker; it is necessary for their food and other reproductive labour to be given to them without cost, in the same way one carries out maintenance on equipment - whereas a wage-worker is only purchased and employed as capital for the duration of the workday, and then is responsible for their own food, housing, and reproductive labour. The principal exception to the use of slave labour in industrial production (which already has an exceedingly high fixed-capital cost compared to agriculture) is in the historical case of fascism, where primitive accumulation and war industry led to conditions favourable to industrial slave labour, which was carried out en-masse by e.g. German industrial syndicates using concentration camp labourers.

While the earlier USA, as a settler nation, made heavy use of both slavery and primitive accumulation, this was necessarily a historically-contingent process, one carried out by the European empires precisely because the Americas had not been 'brought up to' the level of social contradiction they had. Slavery's profitability necessarily fell as the USA industrialised, and remains now only in certain key industries like agriculture and military production. Historically, again, the movement to make slavery a profitable general venture in the era of capitalism is the fascist movement, which attempts generally to replace the proletariat at large by mobilising the higher strata upwards, into petty-bourgeois smallholders (e.g. wehrbauern), converting the middle strata into slaves, and exterminating the lower strata - a movement that fundamentally requires both large swathes of cleared land as well as mass depopulation, due to the lower population density such an essentially backwards mode of production can support. Ultimately, it is a project doomed to failure, due to the impossibility of turning back history - but one the bourgeoisie are inevitably driven to attempt when capitalism starts nearing the end of its profitability.

In the USA, historically, the exploitation of indigenous nations and external colonies has provided a source of profit and primitive accumulation that has rendered a genuine fascist movement effectively unnecessary, despite the middle-class yearning for it, but these systems are themselves drying up, and the US, while not a slave republic, will soon start attempting to fashion itself into one by carving up its population.

I hope this has answered your question, thank you for writing in!

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Stay out of the woods

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

The greatest regret General Kemrak had was setting foot on the human world of Tenvus III.

At first things had gone well for his forces. Organized resistance was scarce as the planet was on the outer reaches of human controlled space which meant it had a fraction of a defense force a normal human world would have.  They were easily swept away in the opening phase of the invasion.

Clustered around the largest city on the planet, the humans held out for little under a day before Kemrak’s forces overran them and secured the capital. The official government of the planet surrendered and a token garrison force was left behind under the new military rule of Kemrak while the rest of the invasion fleet continued onward into human territory.

Though a temporary position until a civilian Geminite official could be brought in, Kemrak took the position seriously and began laying the foundation for Tenvus III’s introduction as the latest conquest to empire territory.

New habitation zones were cleared out, the space port was expanded to handle larger craft, and the capital was further reinforced into a true stronghold that would take months if not years to dislodge Geminite forces from. All made possible via the use of human labor for mere rations as compensation.

Things began taking a downhill turn when Kemrak began to spread his control to other communities. Given the planets lack of infrastructure, many smaller human communities existed deep within the dense forests and were only accessible either by air or by rugged and unreliable beat path roads.

None of these communities had strategic value so were ignored during initial stages, but now with preparing the world for annexation they too needed to be subdued. To that end Kemrak dispatched multiple squads via captured maps the general had planned to hear back from them by week’s end that they had achieved their goals.

A week came and went and to the general’s surprise no word came.

Radio transmissions were silent and not a single warrior returned from the dispatched squads to give an update. So the general dispatched more squads this time with the objective of finding the lost squads and subduing the human settlements.

Another week came and went and still silence.

The garrison forces were now becoming anxious at the disappearance of so many of their comrades. Unease crept into their hearts and the human captives were all too keen to see the sudden loss of heart of their conquerors.

Labor riots broke out, small scale sabotage acts increased by 17%, isolated groups of Geminite warriors were attacked and left crippled by human mobs. While control of the major planetary arteries was still within the general’s grasp, he was no fool to see that if left unchecked he would be facing a full-fledged uprising.

Seeking to quell the human’s newfound sense of defiance and calm the hearts of his men, the general took the majority of his forces to secure the nearest listed settlement while leaving behind a token force that was still capable of managing the humans.

Row upon row of armor vehicles and troop carries filed out of the capital city and made west towards what was known as “Hangman’s Gulch”; a remote town stead situated deep in the forests along a deep ravine that seemingly had no bottom.

With each passing hour General Kemrak noted how the roads began losing their maintenance and began degrading into nothing more than dirt path amongst the trees. By the four hour mark the trees had become so dense that the armored vehicles had been forced into the front to slowly continue plowing through the trees.

As the daylight began to dwindle the general lamented that he would not reach the settlement before nightfall and so ordered a halt to the advance. A small area was cleared out and a camp was established for the night. His last orders for the night before heading to his own tent were ensuring the sentries and patrols provided maximum coverage.

The next morning when the general awoke he was greeted by the sight of a human knife wedged into the pillow next to his head. He fell backwards as he pushed himself out of bed and called for his guards who came rushing into his tent.

He demanded to know how such a would-be assassin had bypassed the sentries and patrols. To his horror his guards informed him that during the night every patrol and sentry had gone missing. Their all clear signals had been set to repeat.

Kemrak ordered the entire camp awoken and place on high alert and for every inch to be search for any lurking intruders. His guards complied and exited the tent just as the beads of sweat began to run down the general’s face. He was under no illusion of the message his would be killers had given him. That despite everything he had, every ounce of power he wielded, they could kill him at any time.

Within the hour the entire camp was torn apart by the search parties as well as the surrounding area, but nothing could be found of the attackers. Of the missing sentries and patrols however, the search parties found the grizzly remains of pools of blood and blood trails going off deeper into the woods. The troops were once more becoming enthralled with fear and the general quickly got them moving to the settlement.

Another four hours of marching and Kemrak had finally reached the settlement. It was just as the map described, perched alongside a deep ravine with no visible bottom and comprising of two dozen small homes and stores.

Surrounding the town, Kemrak issued the command for his warriors to charge in and take any human they found captive for questioning. He sat in his command vehicle as the town was soon engulfed with Geminite warriors, yet not a single shot was fired. The general pondered this when his radio transmitter chimed and a report from the warriors came in.

The entire town was empty.

Not a single human, adult or child, was present.

Frustration mounted within the general as he realized he had been led on a wild goose chase. In a fit of rage he told his warriors to burn down the settlement and take whatever they wanted, and that tomorrow they would head back to the capital. His warriors cheered his name as they sacked and looted the settlement long into the night and danced around the fires of burning buildings in celebration.

Quietly, the general had also redoubled the sentries and pulled the patrols closer as the flames continued into the night. He would not be caught unaware again and sat inside his command vehicle with his command staff as the revelries slowly faded into the night.

When the general fell asleep he did not know; but as he roused himself he felt that he was still inside the command vehicle. As he rubbed his eyes to shrug off the morning drowsiness he felt something cold and pasty touch his eyelids.

Wiping away whatever the liquid was with his sleeve he looked down at his hand to see it was blood.

His hands were drenched in blood, but as he opened his mouth to cry out he took in the rest of his command vehicle and the cry shriveled in his throat.

All around him were the mutilated bodies of his command team. Some spread across the decking like rag dolls, while others still sat at their posts as if waiting for his next command as if the gashes in their throats were a minor inconvenience.

He scrambled with the release hatch and fell out of the vehicle with a loud thud drawing the attention of nearby guards. They rushed over to their general but froze in horror as they saw the contents of the command vehicle.

Orders for status reports from the sentries had to be beaten into the guards by Kemral as hey locked up in shock. The orders were relayed and answered in short fashion but not with a desired outcome.

Once again, all sentries and patrols had gone missing sometime in the night.

By now the rest of the force was waking up. Despite the best efforts of Kemrak’s officers the news of yet another enemy attack spread like wild fire dousing the confidence the previously nights sackings had ignited. Worse yet was the loud commotion coming from the front of their encampment that was drawing more and more warriors.

Kemrak stormed to the front of his camp to find a lone warrior shambling from the tree line back to them. They dragged a broken leg behind them as they stumbled closer but known of the watching warriors would go to help them. For the lone warrior was as terrifying as the nightmare they had seen in the command vehicle.

The warrior’s hands were gone; all that was left were two bloody stumps that had been singed closed. Clumps of their tattered uniform clung to their body and fluttered in the breeze to reveal the mauled and bloodied chest of the warrior. Chunks of skin had been peeled away to reveal raw muscle twitching with every movement.

Kemrak stood at the front of his warriors as the lone survivor finally came before them.

“They say…..” the warrior stuttered through bloody lips, “we’ll all die…..tonight….unless we give them…” The lone survivor pointed at Kemrak.  The warriors behind Kemrak murmured amongst themselves but a quick glare from the general silenced them.

“We do that…” the warrior continued as they spat out a thick glob of blood and took several deep gasps, “…and they let us go….and give us back….everyone…missing..”

With their message delivered, the warrior collapsed to the ground like a puppet’s whose strings had finally been cut.

As the medics finally went forward Kemrak’s eyes passed over his men. Where once was unshaken loyalty, now lay the tendrils of betrayal. He could not look a moment more at them and turned back to look at the surrounding woods and try to figure some way out of this nightmare.

It was at that moment he felt his hearts stop.

There was something moving amongst the trees.

[ginovasims]

THE SEASONS LEGACY

A mini legacy challenge that focuses on the four seasons. Each generation will have a different set of goals and requirements before the new heir takes over.

Rules:

Pick any three of the five traits offered for each generation, and one of the two aspirations. For an extra challenge, you can try and complete both aspirations.

This challenge contains a lot of gameplay from a variety of expansion, game, and stuff packs. Feel free to skip or adjust any rules if you are missing content.

If you do this challenge, please credit me (@ginovasims).

Vague guidelines/suggestions:

The heir can be any gender, they don’t have to be female. They can also be any sexuality. 

Children don’t have to be genetic, they can be adopted, and you can have science babies.

Mods and custom content can be used.

Use the hashtag #SeasonsLegacy on tweets, posts, and videos. Check out my video where I introduce the challenge in more detail: https://youtu.be/j0R4fVdiLfI

——————————————————————————————————

THE GENERATIONS

Generation 1 - Spring

Spring is the season for new life and new beginnings, so what better time to start a new family legacy?!

You make the most of the weather warming and enjoy spending time outside with animals. Fresh is best and you won’t settle for anything that’s not the best quality, in all aspects of life. Your true love is out there and you won’t stop looking until you find your perfect soulmate. 

Requirements:

Date around before finding your soulmate and settling down

Meet your soulmate at a park

Always keep your home in pristine condition

Raise chickens and/or a cow/llama

Befriend a rabbit and/or a flock of birds

Buy groceries from market stalls in Henford-on-Bagley

Win a competition at Finchwick Fair

Frequently have picnics in the park

Discover Sylvan Glade and/or Forgotten Hollow

Gain the hungry for love lifestyle 

Always have the simple living lot challenge

Celebrate Spring Festival and go all out with decorations and festivities

Complete the insect and/or decorative eggs collection

Reach the top level of any outdoor based career (e.g. gardener, conservationist, lifeguard etc.)

Master two of the three skills: fishing, herbalism and flower arranging

Complete either the Country Caretaker or the Serial Romantic aspiration

Colours: Pink and Green Traits: Neat, Romantic, Cheerful, Perfectionist, High Maintenance Aspirations: Country Caretaker or Serial Romantic

Generation 2 - Summer

Did someone say beach party?!

Growing up, you spent a lot of time outdoors with your family, and you loved every second of it. You’re both laid-back and the life of the party. The sea calls your name and you always make the absolute most of your summertime memories.

Requirements:

Throw weekly parties (at the beach if it’s good weather!)

Frequently have BBQs in the garden

Frequently go bowling with friends/family

Have a sun tan as often as you can 

Go camping at least twice as a young adult

Have a pool in your garden

Have swimming as a hobby

Meet your lover at the beach

Build sandcastles with your children

Gain the people person lifestyle 

Always have the volcanic activity lot challenge

Celebrate Summer Festival and go all out with decorations and festivities 

Complete the seashell and/or message in a bottle collection 

Reach the top level of any active career (e.g. actor, doctor, police etc.)

Master two of the three skills: dancing, mixology and bowling

Complete either the Beach Life or Party Animal aspiration

Colours: Yellow and Red Traits: Dance Machine, Party Animal, Loves the Outdoors, Child of the Ocean, Outgoing Aspirations: Beach Life or Party Animal

Generation 3 - Autumn/Fall

The spooky season is among us…

You’re more of a homebody than your parents and grandparents and prefer to spend time tucked up at home, reading a book by a warm fire. You’ve always been interested in the supernatural, believing them to be fictional your whole life, until discovering one day that there’s more out there than you could ever have imagined.

Requirements:

Turn into any occult 

Marry a different type of occult

Always own a black cat and encourage them to have kittens (with success) at least twice

Earn a distinguished degree

Join a university club/team

Throw a costume party every other week

Light fireworks at bonfire nights

Have a family club gathering at least once a week

Write children books and read them to your own children 

Gain the indoorsy lifestyle

Always have the spooky lot challenge

Celebrate Autumn/Fall Festival and go all out with decorations and festivities

Complete the space prints and/or postcards collection

Reach the top of any mental/academic career (e.g. education, secret agent, scientist etc.)

Master two of the three skills: medium, vampire lore and research & debate

Complete either the Spellcaster & Sorcery or Bestselling Author aspiration

Colours: Orange and Purple Traits: Bookworm, Insider, Overachiever, Creative, Cat Lover Aspirations: Spellcaster & Sorcery or Bestselling Author

Generation Four - Winter

Life is like your own winter wonderland! 

You grew up with your whole extended family around you and so this has become a very important part of how you are. Your family are everything and you want to treasure every moment and memory. Food is another big part of your life, and you relish in spending time in the kitchen with your loved ones.

Requirements:

Have a blended family (e.g. step children, adopted, etc.) 

Bake with your partner/children every weekend

Always gift your household members a present for the holidays

Play outside whenever it’s snowy - build snowpals, make snow angels, have snowball fights etc.

Go ice skating on every first date

Always have a caged pet for your family

Have perfect relationships with all of your children - spoil them!

Decorate your house with family pictures

Gain the junk food fiend lifestyle 

Always have the gremlins lot challenge

Celebrate Winter Festival and go all out with decorations and festivities

Complete the snow globe and/or simmies collection

Reach the top of any stay at home career (either freelance or always choose work from home option)

Master two of the three skills: knitting, baking and photography

Complete either the Mt. Komorebi Sightseer or Big Happy Family aspiration

Colours: Blue and White Traits: Gloomy, Family-Oriented, Foodie, Materialistic, Childish Aspirations: Mt. Komorebi Sightseer or Big Happy Family

[webslingingslasher]

It's Better On Top

i relate cause this was me a few months ago.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 5.3K

Warnings: small smut scene, overprotective brothers and a small spiral of panic

Summary: you've always wanted to sleep on the top bunk of a bunk bed, it was sacrier than you thought and you need your boyfriend to help you get down

There was a child-like wonder to Peter’s room. 

The wall’s were a muted tone, chosen by whichever maintenance man who hated the idea of color. To make up for the lack of personality he’s added his own. Posters from being a tween till now, you could make out the older ones by the wrinkles in the edges. Pictures from all ages bounced around the room, ones with May, Ned and you. You always liked to fawn over his childhood ones, he looked so small and loving. He’d gladly follow you in the back of the van to see your new puppy, a favorite is one where he’s perched on May’s shoulders so happy to be up high. 

Awards and certificates of his genius covered any empty spots, only small peeks of the bland wall poked through. He had trinkets all around, figurines and collectables. He kept his prized ones on a shelf where he dusted once a week, the others floated on shelves, windowsills, or his desk. And the legos, he had sets everywhere, he hated breaking them apart after. It wasn’t about maintaining a pretty thing, it was about appreciating his frustration, concentration, and pride. 

He can do hard things because they turn out beautiful in the end. 

You caught the loose pieces, tucked in a plastic tub under his bed. 

His bed. Your favorite part of his room, he had something you’ve always wanted before. You begged your parents for years but they never delivered, you never had friends with one either. They just looked so fun, a permanent sleepover. Something to open the room, more space to play. When you first came over to his house you stood in awe, he had one. It was too soon to ask, and you waited until the moment striked. 

Tonight was the night you would finally fulfill your childhood dreams and sleep on the top bunk of a bunk bed. 

“Question.” 

Peter looked up from his desk for a moment, his tongue poking at the corner of his mouth slunk back in. He answered your words with a raised eyebrow, he grunted looking at his suit sewing up the shoulder. 

“Can I sleep on the top bunk tonight?” 

His eyes flickered up to the top, then back to his suit. 

“Why do you wanna do that? I sleep on the bottom bunk, you know.” He tugged the thread tightly. 

You do know, you’ve never been on top though. It felt like a summer camp, as you imagine. You’ve never been to one, you wonder if Peter has. To sleep in the same room as Peter, arm lengths away, to have him softly snoring underneath you as you count the stress fractures on his ceiling sounded blissful. 

“I’ve never slept on a bunk bed.” 

Peter looks at you and grins, “You sleep on it with me.” 

You roll your eyes, “Yeah but I’ve never had the sleepover bunk bed experience.” 

He drops his hands for a moment, “You never told me that, we could’ve done that ages ago baby.” 

You perk up, “So tonight?” 

Peter smiles softly, “I don’t know the last time the sheets were washed, I’ll set it up for you and I promise next time you can.” 

You bounce up and down on his bed, you can’t help yourself. You’re just so excited, you leap up to cross the room to press kisses to his face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He laughed as he lightly pushed you off him, “If I had known it would make you this happy I would’ve had you up there a million times by now.” 

You squeeze at him before clasping your hands, “It’s gonna be so fun, Petey. It’ll be like summer camp!” 

He raised an eyebrow, “Does that make me your counselor?” 

You ran your index finger down his chest and lowered your voice, “Shit sexy, you could be my camp director.” 

He matched your energy, “I’ll direct your camp.” 

You tried to bite back a smile, right before you broke it he sucked a breath through his teeth. 

“That was bad.” 

“It was.” 

“Swing and a miss.” 

“If you’re on my mound you won’t be missing.” 

Peter fake gagged, “You’re just as bad as me, get away you’re radiating bad flirting vibes and it’s affecting me.” 

You gasp and smack his shoulder, “Take it back! I’m not a bad flirt!” 

He nods and puts on a dumb voice, “Okay.” 

You cross your arms and narrow your eyes, Peter takes in your movements and gasps.

“Don’t you dare.” 

“I will if you don’t take it back.” 

“It’s not my fault you’re radiating bad flirting vibes.” 

“That’s it, you have two seconds or the legislation is being enacted.” 

Peter holds his breath and winces, he’s not breaking. Neither are you. 

“I tried being reasonable, Parker. You’ve lost kissing privileges until you repent for your sins against hot, excellent flirter girlfriends.” 

He holds a fist in the air and cries out, “Noooooo!” 

“That doesn’t sound like an apology to me, me and my lonely lips are going back to your bed, where they will stay until I get a heartfelt apology.” 

Peter pulled at the thread on his needle with his teeth snapping it. He tossed his suit on his desk and pulled at your arm as you walked away from him, spinning you around he pulled you into his lap and kissed you repeatedly, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Each apology wrapped with a kiss. You giggled and kicked your feet and you pushed at his jaw but he insisted on kissing your jaw and neck. 

“Okay, okay! Sins repented!” 

“Did I do enough hail mary’s, my priest?” A wet kiss placed at your jawline. 

“What kind of roleplay is this?” Peter jumped slightly, May was leaning in the doorway. 

“I had to repent for my sins, May. I was just making sure I was in the clear.” 

“He said I had bad flirting vibes, May. The boy had to be punished.” 

May ran one index finger over the over in a ‘shame’ motion, “Shame.” 

Peter groaned, “I repented! The priest gives me the pass, go back to Jeopardy, May.” 

May raised her hands, “Alright, children of god. Dinner in an hour.” 

She turned slowly as she walked away, “No more sinning under my roof, Peter. You’re on thin ice as is.” 

He turned to whisper to you, “Did she just tell me I was going to hell?” 

You nodded quickly and matched his tone, “Yeah baby, she did.” 

Peter scoffed and looked at his suit with a sigh, “And just when a guy thinks he’s won enough good karma he’s tossed back in the hole.” 

“I bet it's lonely down there.” 

“And cold.” 

“I picture rain.” 

“Yeah, but it’s only on me so I can’t escape it.” 

“Like one of those cartoons with the clouds above their head?” 

“Exactly.” 

“Damn. Well, I’ll send a postcard from heaven.” 

“That is literally so toxic, get off of me.” 

You threw your head back laughing as Peter lightly pushed at your thighs.

—----------------------

You couldn’t help the wicked grin that crossed your face, Peter Parker was many things but number one on the list is best boyfriend ever. 

He had sent you a picture of the top bunk, it was taken from the ladder. A new set of sheets and your favorite throw blanket you kept on the couch was tucked in the corners of the bed. His childhood teddy bear was tucked in the railing against the wall, a small paper he wrote on was taped to the wall, you couldn’t read it over the phone. 

‘Guess who’s gonna have the best sleepover of their life.’ Was the text sent with it, you couldn’t help but send one back of your cheesy grin. ‘Did I ever mention how much I love you?’

‘Once or twice, it doesn't hurt to hear it again.’

‘I love my handsome, thoughtful boyfriend.’

He sent a questioning emoji, ‘You have another boyfriend?’

‘It’s amazing how you can be lovely and toxic at the same time.’

‘Like a fuckin mirror babe.’

You grunted at the phone with narrowed eyes. 

‘Be safe tonight, don’t die pls.’

‘I have a very important sleepover and my girlfriend is losing her bunk bed virginity, (twice) so I can’t die, the gods have spoken it into existence.’

‘Just for that comment, I lied. I wasn’t a virgin.’ 

‘Trust me, you were.’

You sent a grumpy face, ‘I’ll see you tonight, I love you.’ 

‘Love you too, baby.’

You could hardly count the minutes down until Peter got back from patrol and sent you the come over text, as silly as it was it felt like it was healing your inner childhood. Not to mention, unknown to you, Peter totally leaned into it and was committed to give you the best sleepover ever, snacks and drinks and take out and movies and everything you could want at a sleepover was carefully planned. 

Staring at your dresser you contemplated showing up in pajamas or bringing a bag, you figured you should bring some real clothes just in case but you were committed to wearing one of his shirts with some pajama shorts, ones he would say were delicious on you. They were too short for you to bravely wear them on the bus so you begged your brother to take you, it only cost you twenty bucks, he let you off easy. 

You knew he was busy swinging and you always hated the idea of sending him a text while he was possibly in the middle of kicking someone's ass and throwing him off, however, this was life or death.

‘Are we eating at yours or should I eat here?’

‘I planned on chinese, I should be home in an hour or two.’ 

"Sounds yummy, let me know when you’re on the way home, it only cost me a twenty to get a ride.’ 

‘Highway robbery, man up and strap some webshooters to those wrists.’ 

‘I’d die and you would be happy.’ 

‘Cash in on that life insurance.’ 

‘I knew you were with me for my money.’ 

‘And dat ass.’ 

‘I’m taking a shower.’ 

“Ooh, take a picture.’ 

—--------------------------------

You resorted to painting your toenails and watch a quick murder mystery video on youtube while you waited for Peter to call, the waiting was always the hardest part, you were selfish and wanted him when you wanted him, you just had to remind yourself it’s just like he has a normal job but with better flexibility. 

It didn’t make it easier, you still wanted Peter more than the city deserved Spider-Man. You would never tell him that. 

You steady your hand as you applied the second coat, you took the shower first and wouldn’t be able to wash away the color that went out of line. 

Your phone lit up with a picture of Peter, he was rubbing at his eye with a soft grin, caught before a yawn. It was the morning of a sleepover and you caught him before he made you breakfast and smothered you in kisses between May’s wandering eyes. 

“Hello lover.” You drawled out the words like you weren’t waiting for his call.

“Hey trouble.” His voice was as smooth as aged scotch on the rocks

You heard him breathe in quickly as the air wooshed by him, he was heading home you assume. 

“I’m gonna stop and get us dinner, head over in ten, okay baby?”

“Get me soup too, please!” 

“Got it. Wait, should I get your brother something?” 

“Are you trying to wine and dine my sibling?” You giggle into the phone.

“I’m trying to make him like me.” 

“Crab rangoons are a start.” 

“He’s gonna be my bitch in five years, just you wait.” 

“Playing the long game are you?” 

“You know, if you want to slip how good of a boyfriend I am for fulfilling your childhood dream on that car ride I wouldn’t object.” 

“Petey, honey. He doesn’t give a shit about my childhood dreams.” 

“Siblings are brutal. Thank god I’m an only child.” 

“I’ll get him to come inside, you can bro hug or whatever and give him his rangoons and he’s guaranteed gonna tell me you’re cool later in private.” 

“You’re the bestest, see you soon, trouble.” 

“Love youuuuu.” 

The second you hung up you nearly kicked the door in at your brother's room and told him he had five minutes before he had to tote you across town, per agreement.

Minutes later you were riding in silence as he blasted a new playlist, you would never admit it but you found some good songs from him. At a red light he rested his hand on his gear shift, picking at his bottom lip he tried subtle conversation. 

“Are you gonna need a ride home tomorrow or will the kid take care of it?” 

“If you don’t feel like picking me up then Peter, my boyfriend, will take me home.” Then follow up with, “Or maybe stay another night.” 

He shakes his head quickly, “I’ll pick you up, just text me when.” 

“He’s coming on the trip this year, you have to be nice. He’s nice, he’s good to me.” You say his name softly, he’s told you before that it’s just him fearing for your heartbreak, something Peter could cause and he would have to watch you heal from that. He knows how true heartbreak feels and he would never want you to feel that too, he thought he was dying. 

He accelerated at the green light. 

“I don’t hate the kid, I just don’t like him.” 

You sigh, “You can call him by his name, you won’t summon him I promise.” 

“He’s nice, I’ll throw you that bone.” 

“Just nice?” 

“He seems to treat you alright, rare to have a freakishly chivalrous guy this day in age.” 

“I’m telling Peter you said that, he’s so anxious about you hating him. He is so desperate for your approval it’s kinda sad.” 

“Don’t! Intimidation is the only thing I have over him.” 

You know he jokes about messing Peter up if he dares dump you but you know it’s all talk. 

“You really think Peter’s gonna dump me?” 

“Between the two of you? Yeah. You could never do it.” 

You snort, “He said the exact same about himself.” 

Your brother just hums and turns the music back up, there was no need to ask for directions, he’s been on this route hundreds of times in the past almost year. 

When he pulled to the curb you made a puppy dog face, “will you please come up? I have something you need to bring home and I don’t want to have to go up and down twice.” 

He pulled his eyebrows in, “You can’t bring it home tomorrow?” 

Shit. 

“No, mom needs it now. I forgot to ask Peter to bring it over earlier.” 

“What is it?” 

“C’mon, please! It’ll take five minutes.” 

He stared at you before groaning and throwing his seat belt off, ripping the key from the ignition. Without waiting on you he opened his door and started walking to the entrance making you scramble to escape the seat and power walking to catch up. 

You walked in on him mass spamming the elevator button as if it would make it come faster, “what floor is the kid on again?” 

“Peter.” you enunciated, “Lives on floor seven.” 

“Right.” 

He knocked, no, pounded on the door. Peter swung the door open fast, half worried you were desperate to get in but rather met with your brother's face. He quickly reset himself and smiled before opening the door for you to enter, Peter held out his hand for a shake with a nod of his name. 

Your brother shook his hand firmly, “Pecker.” 

“Peter!” you corrected, loudly. 

Peter waved it off, “close enough.” Then made his way to you leaning in for a quick kiss, “Hi, trouble.” You couldn’t help the smile. “Hi, handsome.” He gave you a squeezing hug and mumbled in your ear as he softly swayed you, “I missed you,” 

Your brother let out a gag, “alright what did you need me to bring home, this place reeks of Parker.”

“Ah! I got you these,” he hopped into the kitchen to grab the small take away box. “Crab rangoons.” Peter nodded at the container as he handed it out, your brother took it wearily, “I don’t normally accept bribes but this one slides, that’s-“ he made eye contact with you, “very nice of you.” 

You nodded your head and couldn’t help the growing grin, then he realized your game and gave a nod at Peter then turned to leave he pointed at you, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

“Oh you don’t have to, I can bring her home.”

Your brother looked over his shoulder at him, then repeated himself “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

When the door shut loudly Peter looked at you with an excited face, “that went well, right? He only referred to me as a penis once!” You smiled before grabbing at his shoulders moving him to the couch and straddling him, Peter rested his palms on your thighs lightly tapping them, his eyebrows raised waiting for you to talk. 

“He didn’t want me to tell you this but because I love you, and I’m starting to feel extreme pity for you-“ 

“Thanks, baby.” A squeeze. 

“-Welcome, he told me in the car that he thinks you’re nice and you treat me freakishly well, so in his words, “I don’t hate the kid, I just don’t like him.””

“At this rate he may even tolerate me by the time we go on vacation.” 

You squeeze his shoulders and place a chaste kiss to his mouth, “The rangoons just put you at not complaining if you come over for dinner level.” 

Peter threw his head back, “Let’s goooooo.” 

You let out a small sigh, he tried so hard. “It’s not personal Pete, he just doesn’t want you to hurt me and not that he would admit it, I think a part of him doesn’t want to like you because if we were to ever split he would miss you too.” 

He pulls a dumb face, “okay but has he considered we won’t break up, like ever?” 

You shrug, “Yeah, about that..” 

Peter rolls his eyes and flips you to pin you to the couch, “you stop it, woman. I am going to wine, dine and bed you before banishing you from mine tonight.” 

“Don’t wanna make the bed rock from up top?” 

“And have my head whack the ceiling a million times? No.” 

“I could be on top.” 

“And have you whack your head on the ceiling? Absolutely not.” 

“You’re such a gentleman, do you have any objections to making the couch rock?” 

Peter dropped his jaw and scoffed, he looked over your face looking for your bluff, you weren’t kidding. He supported himself with one hand as the other slipped under his— your shirt, “You know May uses this couch.” 

You nod as you wrap your legs around his waist pulling him in, “I know.” 

He groans when you grind against him, “It would be dirty of us, we shouldn’t.” 

You look in his eyes as he watches you pull up slightly pulling your shirt off, he glances at your chest before looking back at you. “We shouldn’t,” you agree with him as you shuffle your pajama shorts down your thighs, Peter lets out a room quieting gasp when you pull him from his pants. 

“Fuck you’re eager.” 

You lean up to place a kiss below his ear, “I’m just showing how much I missed you.” 

He let out another curse when you rolled your hips into his, “You’re dirty, so so dirty.” ————————-

Peter had woken you up from the couch around one in the morning, he had let you sleep through the last half of the movie you had started. And you were sleepy until he woke you up and started to push you towards his room and seeing his bedside lamp light up the room woke you up more. 

Rubbing at your eye you speak through a yawn, Peter still understands. 

“Course you can still sleep up top.” 

He pulls down his own sheet and shakes his own yawn, you start to climb up the ladder and notice the higher you got the shakier your knees became, then you slightly duck because you’re closer to the ceiling than you estimated. 

With a slight turn over your shoulder your tongue melts in your mouth, it’s higher up than what you thought. And sure, you’re not a kid and it’s just a bunk bed but it feels like all rational thinking went out the window, it was high up and you can’t help but think about the fall down. 

“Help?” 

Peter looked at you with a tilted head and his hands on his hips, he was about to ask ‘help with what?’ but rather used his detective skills and nodded his head. He crossed the room and followed you up the ladder, as he followed up you were able to comfortably sit on the top bunk. 

You crossed your legs with a small smile, like you didn’t just panic and ask for him to follow you up in case you somehow fell backwards. Peter’s eyebrows rise to ask if everything's okay, you open your arms for him to follow you down on the bed, you close him in with a tight hug. 

“I love you.” 

He laughs and places a kiss on your neck, “I love you too baby.” 

“Okay, I’m ready. Tuck me in and call it a night, dad.” 

Peter watched you shuffle under your blanket with a grunt at the title, he leaned over you to tuck in the sides so you were snuggled in. He pushed some hair out of your face and pressed a soft, longing kiss to your mouth. 

“Goodnight, trouble.” 

You bit your lip to suppress a grin, only a whisper left your mouth, “night.” 

Only lasting five minutes of silence in the dark room, which was your preference by the way, Peter didn’t mind if a light was on but you claimed you couldn’t sleep in the light. 

“It makes my eyelids see through, Peter.” 

“You’re so dramatic.”

You called out to Peter. 

“Pst, Peter.”

He has a stage whisper, “yeah?” 

“Have you ever been to summer camp?” 

He shuffles in bed, you think he’s pulling the blanket up. 

“I’m poor.” 

“I’ve never been either.”

“Notice you didn’t say you’re poor too?” 

“Money is a mindset, Peter.” 

“Sounds like you’re poor.” 

A sigh, “I am.” 

You hear him roll over, your own bed shakes with his jostle, you grip your sheets. Your slight edge sparked Peter’s senses. 

“You okay up there?” 

You wouldn’t object if he begged you to come sleep with him, but you were going to see out this childhood dream. 

“Yeah. I miss you.” 

He snorts, “Reach your hand down.” 

You follow his instructions and wiggle your arm through the side bars, his hand encases your own. For a moment everything settles and you almost ask for him to come join you, but you’re terrified of the bed shaking. 

“Couldn’t be further from you if I tried.” 

“Will you do this all night?” 

“And risk a frozen shoulder for you?” He shoots out, then adds, “Of course I would.” 

“Aw, you’re such a good friend!” 

His hand squeezes yours, “what kind of a friend?” 

You giggle, “the bestest!” 

“Wrong B word, dear.” 

You gasp, “ I don’t think you’re a bitch, Peter!”

He groans, “That’s it, fend for yourself. Goodnight, traitor.” 

Peter’s hand drops from yours and he turns towards the wall, you whine when he pulls away from you. “Fine then, goodnight, Parker.” 

You hear him mumble to himself and grin while you let sleep take over. 

——————————

Your phone said it was four twenty three in the morning. 

You wonder when Peter will wake up, if he would rise when the sun did or, more likely, sleep until you wake him up when you get too bored of entertaining yourself like you usually do. 

You have to pee, bad. 

You got as far as one step on the ladder then felt yourself slightly sway, you tried to find the next step but were too scared to extend your foot all the way to reach it. 

You tried looking back and cursed yourself for sleeping in the pitch black tonight, you were in limbo between sending it and hopping down and crawling back up and waving a white flag. 

Deciding you were a grown badass you forced yourself to take the next step and nearly slipped, Peter’s foot was resting right between the steps and his blanket made the step slick. You nearly fell backwards, in a rush you climbed back up and checked the time to see if you could wait it out. 

You were able to wait for ten minutes, then a cramp hit and all you can think about is the toilet ten steps away.

Calling quits you realize your only hope was Peter, and he was dead asleep judging by his snores. Nevertheless, you start to plead. 

“Peter?” A whisper. 

“Peter.” A little louder. 

He snores loudly at that one. 

“Peter!” A whisper shout. 

He’s not answering. 

He’s not answering, and he’s not awake, and you can’t get down, and you have to pee and you were the one that wanted this. 

You blink back tears, why do you want to cry? 

“Peter!” You spoke in a regular but quiet voice. 

He stays silent, you start to chant his name over and over, he doesn’t respond. 

On the fourth call your tears break through, you sigh heavily. Tears dripped down your chin into your hands, you called out one more time, begging. 

“Peter, please.” 

You sniffle, then let out a breath of fresh air. 

“Baby?” It’s raspy and spoken through a sharp inhale, he feels like cold water has been dumped on him. 

He stares at the slats above him like he has x-ray vision to see through them to you. 

“Peter! I can’t- I don’t know how- I have to-“ You start to breath heavy, your eyes flooding with panic and embarrassment, and you really fucking have to pee. 

Peter untangled himself to stand up, he pulled down a leg of his boxer briefs that had risen with his tossing and turning. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You gasp for air, you feel the bed shake when he pulls at the ladder to pull himself up. You wrap your hands around your head, “I wanna get down, I wanna get down!” 

You repeat the words over and over until you feel hands over your own, the bed dips where Peter has his knees on either side of you. He wraps you tight in his arms, “It’s okay, you’re okay. We can get you down, it’s okay.” You wind your arms around his, tucking yourself in your neck to start to cry. 

Peter’s heart hurts, you’re scared. 

“You’re safe. I’m here, okay?” 

He feels your warm breath wash over his chest, you try and calm yourself down, it’s not as scary when Peter has you surrounded. 

“I couldn’t get down and you wouldn’t wake up.” 

Peter frowns between your studders, he hates that you were calling out for him and he didn’t hear it. 

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m here now, okay? Wanna get down?” 

You nod into his neck, “I have to pee so bad.” 

Peter breathed through a smile and kissed the top of your head, “okay, let’s go pee.” He pulled himself away and started to go down the ladder, you watched him with wide eyes trying to memorize his steps so you could match. 

You looked up and noticed how close you were to the ceiling, your throat felt like it closed up. You could feel how shaky your knees were even looking at the space to go down, you figured you would wet the bed tonight. 

“I’m right here, trouble. I won’t let you fall, I promise.” 

You shake your head, “I can’t. I tried and I can’t.” 

Peter hums and looks around the room, he can’t carry you down. The physics wouldn’t allow him too, his only option was catching you. 

“Can you sit on the railing for me, baby?” 

You reached out a hand to wiggle it, it seemed sturdy. 

“Okay.” 

You white knuckled the banister when it creaked under your weight, “Peter, get me down, please get me down. I’m gonna freak out.” 

“I need you to trust me, sweetheart. Just drop.” 

You hold on tighter, your voice squeaks. “Drop?!” 

“I gotta catch you, I can’t carry you down, baby.” 

You look over to the window, the moon was lighting up one side of the room, you can barely make out his figure on the side of the bed. 

“Can you see me?” 

He lets out a small laugh, “Yes, baby, I can see you.” 

You buffer and hold up a hand, “How many fingers am I holding up?” The other hand has a vice grip to steady you.

“Four.” 

You whine, “I’m scared.” 

Peter’s heart hurts again. 

“I know you are, I promise I’ll catch you, okay?” 

“Okay.” You don’t sound very confident. 

“I’m gonna let go.” 

“I’m ready.” 

You loosen your grip then immediately double down. 

“Okay, I’m gonna drop now.” 

“Got it.” 

You stay there for another second. 

“Baby, you gotta let go.” 

“Be honest, will you be mad if I wet the bed?” 

“No, but how are you gonna get down after that?” 

You breathe in deeply, “I’m gonna actually do it, you promise you’ll catch me?” 

“I promise.” 

You loosen your hold to push off, “I’m about to let go.” 

“I’m right here.” 

You hold your breath and push off as hard as you could, your hair breezes and your body feels weightless for just a moment. Then you’re caught, hands wrap around your back and thighs, you feel yourself bounce in his hold then level out. 

“Caught you.” Peter’s voice is a whisper in your ear, you kick your legs to be let down. You immediately turn to wrap him in a hug, “thank you, I love you.” Then push him back to sprint to the bathroom. 

When you come back in he’s back in bed, his blanket open for you to join. You couldn’t help but feel like a little kid, but it was dark and high up and to be fair you couldn’t see where you were going. 

Sliding next to him his eyes open, “the first time I was on top bunk I was like, seven and I had a nightmare and I couldn’t get down and was screaming so loud May woke up and had to come rescue me.” 

“I didn’t realize I'd feel so trapped up there.” 

He hums, “It does feel like that, huh?”

“You were my hero tonight, you’re good at that. Maybe you should look into a job doing that.”

“I may have to look into it, I’m tired of being New York City’s Spider-Menace.” Then decides to add, “I’m sorry you were scared and needed me and I wasn’t waking up. You must’ve been petrified.” 

“I don’t think I’m ever gonna go up there again.” 

He laughs, “that’s okay.” 

You roll over to stick your face against his arm. “Sorry I woke you up.” 

“Your tears were coming through the slats, it was chinese water torture.” You open your mouth to bite at him, he grunts. “I’ll let you get away with that, you had a scary night.” 

“Remember earlier when we were talking about B words?” 

Peter hums, he’s falling back asleep. He never used to fall asleep so fast until he met you, having you tucked into his side always made him sleep soundly. 

“You’re the best boyfriend ever.” 

He opens his arm to pull you into him, “you make it easy.” 

[witchofthesouls]

Does Ratchet preen the winged members of the trio?

Or even in the birb Jack and Optimus. Does dadimus do wing care.

Ratchet needs specialized tools, but he knows and enjoys it, even if Miko and Raf squirm and flop in his lap. Jack is calmer and willing to sit still for long periods of time.

Miko and Jack attempt to do the same social activity on others. Jack has a far better grasp since he accounts for the sensitivity. Miko, on the other hand, digs in unnecessarily hard by mashing in her talons to scrape out. The little pink bird is only allowed to 'preen' the seams of Ratchet, Bulkhead, and Optimus now.

Funnily enough, Optimus knows how to properly preen. Not from his team or Megatronus' compatriots, but from a time before he was even Orion Pax. Life outside the city-states is brutal, but not a desolate one.

As a sparkling and mechling, he drifted into camps and resting sites. He learned how to preen a variety of wing spans, sensory panels, and extrasensory crests. There were a few mecha that expressed interest in taking him back because their tribes and clans would have welcomed new blood with clever little digits and swift pedes, but he always managed to get away.

As Orion Pax under Alpha Trion, he utilized his preening skills to barter with other sympathetic winged-colleagues in the Archives because it's a necessary maintenance that's needs another pair of hands to be properly done. Secretly, of course.

They wouldn't outright help Orion Pax as he's essentially blacklisted and socially shunned and ostracized by others -carefully done away from Alpha Trion's purview -as he's an outsider to their way of life with the caste system. But they could carefully give him certain information (i.e., where security is nonexistent, schedules for incoming data, supplies, or fundraisers, and places to get untampered goods) that can't be traced back to them. After all, Orion Pax is a clever mech, isn't he? There's a reason why he caught Alpha Trion's patronage. And besides, it's not too hard to string together those plans as information is either public knowledge or can be reasonably deduced, right?

It's funny because in the "magic and dimensional hopping au" where he and cyber!babybirb!Jack get thrown into the G1 verse TFP!Dadimus gets his own gaggle of wings as the Aerialbots begin to gravitate to the mech because he's a grounder that knows aspects of Seekerkin and flight-frame behavioral cues. Yes, you have talons. Yes, you use them to clean the finer seams of your flight systems.

Poor Dadimus is wondering if he should raise concerns over the newest batch of adults being very lost at their own personal care and how much he should interfere...

[theconquerorwormhoard]

I NEED TO REQUEST A TIMELORD! READER X 10TH DOCTOR!!!

I feel like there’s just not enough on the app.

could be just like cute adventures, two time lords chatting, idk you decide <3

(so sorry for the wait! This was super fun to write, thanks so much for the ask 👌)

A Madman In A Box

Rating: G

Pairing(s): 10th Doctor & Time Lord!Reader

Tags/TW: Time Lord reader, reader is gender neutral

The Doctor was unlike any Time Lord you'd ever met.

For one, he seemed to have no idea what he was doing at any given moment. He leapt headfirst into danger, and almost seemed to relish in leaving an impact. The two of you had travelled to hundreds of different star systems, and it seemed to be his mission to leave each place a little better off than when you'd arrived.

It was baffling, but as you spent more time travelling space and time in his antiquated Type 40 TARDIS, you began to realize that this lifestyle fit you more than a life on Gallifrey ever would.

Today, the Doctor was taking a bit of a break. Instead of scouting for a new adventure to insert himself into, he was camped out in the console room, lying on his back and taking apart... Something.

"What are you doing?" you asked, sitting in one of the jump seats. You tended to hover whenever the Doctor began... Tinkering - once he'd tried to correct the chameleon circuit and nearly ejected the entire console room into space.

He sat up, promptly knocking his head against the bottom of the console. "General maintenance," he muttered as he rubbed the forming knot on his forehead, "Have to make sure the old girl is in tip top shape."

You smothered a snort. "I think the 'old girl' was out of commission before either of us were even born," you said, and he answered you with a huff.

"It's not like they had the newest model just sitting empty in a museum," he said. The TARDIS gave an indignant hum and he patted the central column, saying, "Besides, she's the best machine I've ever operated."

You raised your eyebrows and nodded, crossing one leg over the other and reclining in your chair.

After a moment, you asked, "Why did you do it? I mean, you hardly passed your exams, whatever made you think to go off on your own?"

He paused. "I just hated being there. My first face had never liked being cooped up on that dust ball-"

"Your first face?" you interrupted, "I never heard that bit. You left before you had even regenerated, even once?"

He nodded, saying, "I don't know what it was back then, maybe I was going stir-crazy, maybe I saw the writing on the wall and decided to try and avoid it on my own, I don't know. But I left, and I'm better off for it."

A question arose in your mind and you quickly shoved it back down. The Time War was a topic that - the two of you had agreed - was best left alone, and you respected that. It was an open wound in the universe, and you'd never seen it more plainly than in your best friend.

"What do you have in mind for the next trip?" you asked, and his face lit up.

He stood up from the floor and tugged one of the view screens over to where you could see, flipping a switch and displaying a star chart. "So, you know the forest of Pitinia?"

"The bird sanctuary?"

"Yes. Well, in the next system over, the same people have built the biggest aquarium in the universe."

You sat up in your chair, a smile dancing across your face. "Have you got ginger beer somewhere?"

He met your gaze with a wide smile. "You read my mind."

[flippinpancakes64]

Going camping with the Cullens!

Going camping with the Cullens

Thank you for requesting!

Also I normally write on my computer and I wrote this all on my phone so sorry if the formatting is weird I tried my best💀

But at least I can use emojis

Edward:

He would really enjoy camping

He thinks it’s super romantic to share a tent, go on hikes, gaze up at the stars

I mean he’s already a pretty outdoorsy guy

They kind of all are

Of course if you’re a human he gives you all of the piggyback rides

He might get a little self conscious about his sparklyness

Just tell him you think he’s pretty ❤️

Anyway

His favorite parts would be hiking on the trails

Or on trails he makes himself

Alice:

I don’t see her being one to suggest going camping

But she won’t say no

Her idea of a fun date with you is playing dress up with all of her clothes

She has fun either way

I feel like she’d love birdwatching

Of course she doesn’t need binoculars

“Oh look there goes a blue-footed boobie!”

She’s also really good at making flower crowns

Jasper:

Camping reminds him of his days as a soldier in the west

It’s bittersweet for him

He misses his past in that sort of nostalgic way yk

So I think he’d like camping

And it would be fun for him to let loose a little

He 100% is staring at you while you sleep in the tent

Pulling an Edward move

His favorite part is just taking in the scenery

I feel like he’d have a lot of knowledge about the different plants

“You can eat that one… if you want to, of course”

Rosalie:

This wasn’t her first option

But you said you wanted to go so she went

I don’t think she’s high maintenance

But she doesn’t see the appeal of a tent

Even if she doesn’t need to sleep

But she goes anyway

Her favorite part ends up being cuddling by the fire

She lives vicariously through you and makes you roast like 20 marshmallows

And eat them of course

Emmett:

Yeah he loves it

He thrives out in nature

He loves all of it

The tent, the fire, the woods, the animals, the plants

He just has so much fun

You were hiking and said that you were tired and wanted to sit for a sec so he pushed over a tree to make you a spot to sit

Just because he could

Please take him out here more often

Esme:

Another one who loves it

Not that she’s trapped in the house or anything

But she doesn’t go to school

And she doesn’t work

So she loves leaving when she can

And she loves to fish

Her dad used to take her fishing and she loves it

But she catches them and throws them back

“We don’t need them anyway”

Carlisle:

It’s not his first choice

Yes he was the one who started the whole Cullen Camping thing when it’s sunny

But that’s mostly for the others

To blow off steam yk

But he’s been so well trained for so long

I mean he doesn’t even flinch at human blood

He doesn’t need to run around

That being said he will go with you though

His favorite part ends up being swimming in a lake

Every time you go camping he insists on camping near a lake

Vampire! Bella:

She’s not a fan

She wasn’t an outdoors person when she was human

She’s not an outdoors person now

Even though she doesn’t need it, she prefers a soft bed and AC

You might have to drag her out there

But she would end up having fun

Her favorite part would be stargazing

If you know anything about astrology or stars she is all ears

[dotster001]

After reading the accidentally called NRC staff member “dad”, imagine the unholy shock when Neige is asking to date mc/yuu

A/N:Gotcha! As with many requests, I went from 0 ideas to three million over night 😂 can never win. It's also very important to me that you know that I had to pause editing this to pet my cat 😍

This is literally the best possible outcome, in his mind. The only person who'd be worthy of you at NRC is Vil, but you can't date him, that's incest! (A poor lovesick Vil has tried to remind him time and again that you are not related, and Divus is neither of your dad. He got sent to his room for that) So Neige LeBlanch, a model, an actor, an RSA student, a man of culture….you could not have chosen better, puppy!

That said…he'll be keeping a close eye on Neige. If there's anything that needs retrained, Crewel will not hesitate to put that pup in his place! But he doubts that will be an issue���😒

Are you serious? This scrawny little prince boy is supposed to protect your fragile magic-less form? No fucking way!!!

Vargas training camp is back in session! He has to make sure that Neige is worthy! It'll only be you, him, and Neige, out in the middle of the forest. Either Niege will prove himself to be strong enough to protect you from overblots and evil mages, or you will see what a wimpy loser he is! Ah, he's really too clever, isn't he? 😁

No matter how many times you tell him you can take care of yourself, and that Neige is actually top of his class at RSA, and is well versed in combat skills from his time as an actor, Vargas is never gonna hear it. All he hears is "blah blah bleh blah". Truly, you picked the highest maintenance man to be your dad.

Neige is loaded! YOU'RE RICH!!!!

He's eagerly ceasing negotiations with the mysterious guardian of Malleus Draconia, and going on and on about how wonderful this is, and how he raised a perfect little chick! Meanwhile you and Neige are awkwardly sitting in the chairs on the other side of his desk wondering if you should still be listening to this…

He's another one you'll have to remind that he didn't raise you. You just kind of got swept up under his wing! Almost literally! Neige doesn't have to buy him gifts. Niege doesn't have to ask his permission to remove you from the nest, which, by the way, you were forced to live in! You don't have to tell him what you and Neige are going to do today!

Then again…every time you remind him of those things he starts sobbing. And Neige is too sweet, and completely falls for the crocodile tears…so really it's up to you how you handle this.

He is totally fine with you dating. 😊

As far as you will ever know, that is.

He is a man with means, who can afford a quick background check on Neige LeBlanch. It's not a personal thing, it's just he has spent so much time teaching the men at NRC, that he forgets there are non problematic men in existence. 

But once the background check comes back squeaky clean, he's 100% supportive! 

You: Do you want to stay for dinner?

Trein: Do you want to stay forever?

As I said in the post this was requested from, Sam is probably the chillest of the "dads". He is so chill about you dating Neige! So so chill!

He's chill about it…but his friends have seen a lot of bad people in their time.

Neige doesn't want to freak you out, but he definitely feels like something has been following him recently…his bodyguards don't see anything though, so it must be in his head. Ah well, no use worrying you over nothing.

....

Tag list- @shytastemakerthing @eccedentesiast-sapphic @leoll

[heychucklenuts]

after I saw a headcanon about the mercs as Uber drivers; how about the mercs (plus ms. Pauling) but they are Airbnb hosts?

Miss Pauling and the Mercs as Air BNB Hosts

Coming from someone with a very limited idea of what an Airbnb host does, had to research a bit. I get the gist of it but still.

The very idea of this is frightening to me but in the best ways possible. I also like to think if they were put into this situation, it was a Mann Co. ordinance to say the company isn't as bad as people think it is, so there's more people coming to Teufort, and also to make the Mann Brothers even more money. (If that is even possible.) I also like to consider this something where they either fully understand what they're supposed to be doing or they completely wing it, no real in-betweens.

Miss Pauling

Probably one of the more responsible ones in terms of being a host, making sure to greet people staying and give them a little tour of the place, and overall just ensure they have a pleasant experience. She's very keen on keeping up with property maintenance, and once the people staying leave she'll do her rounds of the place to make sure there's no damage, or that nobody left anything behind. Maintenance is usually taken care of by Engie, and general house decoration is done by herself, or by Heavy since he can reach up higher. Pictures are done by Sniper since he has the best ability to capture the spirit of a place, and she makes sure they get paid for their help. But of course, she still has a job to carry out for The Administrator, so sometimes she'll use the Airbnb to trap people who need to be "taken care of", so to speak. Any bodies are disposed of appropriately, and blood and other gorey materials are promptly cleaned up, staging the scene to make it seem like they just canceled their reservations. Though, belongings of the missing individuals sometimes end up in thrift stores or antique shops.

Scout

He treats his time as a host more as him being a host for MTV Cribs, he doesn't understand that hosting means he has to take on more of a professional role. So, to a lot of people, Jeremy the Host is more like a party house owner than anything. He stocks up, he lets people drink, party, and he even gets involved in it quite a bit, leading to him skateboarding into a ditch in the middle of Teufort. This leads to issues when the parties get to be a bit too much though, leading to him either having to kick people out, or end up having to spend a good chunk of the money he made on repairing holes in the wall, or trying to figure out how to install a new toilet because the one he had magically disappeared. He gets scolded constantly for allowing such reckless things to happen, but his only rebuttal is "Hey, I'm makin' us money, ain't I? So quit worryin'." If people come just to stay there and not party, he awkwardly tries to make small talk, or something. Again, not understanding that it's people using the space for there own purposes, not something where the host is having a sleepover. But, he's just trying to make sure everyone is comfortable, even if he is obnoxiously awkward about it. The weirdest thing he does is stock the fridge with Bonk! in all kinds of flavors, and he'll also have at least one bucket of chicken in there, nice and cold for the guests.

Soldier

Probably the lowest rated experience within all the mercs because of his insistence of patriotism and MREs. He truly makes you feel like you're in army boot camp, having rules such as waking up at 5am (he says 0500 hours of course), doing exercise, training, and having rations for meals. Actually, he doesn't make you feel like you're in army boot camp, he just runs the Airbnb as one. And it's weird, because if he advertises it as an Airbnb, he get's horrible reviews. But if he advertises it as "Sergeant Doe's Boot Camp", he gets a lot more positive feedback from random people who decide to go visit. It almost becomes like an attraction for Teufort, and instead of being a tourist trap and labeled thusly, it's more of something painfully fun for people to go participate in. Of course while people think it's just fun and games, Soldier thinks it's just real life, no nonsense stuff. It also gives him an opportunity to fulfill his desire to want to be in this position, even if he's tried to be this way with the mercs. (As in, he's tried to be the sergeant of or leader of the mercenaries, not really to any avail.) People also go there for the added on mini-raccoon sanctuary, and the chance to be able to have raccoons wandering around the house. (Even if the contracts disclose there's a 72% chance of getting infected with rabies, people still go, and still pet the raccoons.) Plus if you get through an entire stay with Soldier, he will reward you with something. (Sometimes it's a bottle of water from Teufort, sometimes it's a rocket.)

Pyro

To Pyro, this meant new friends, and potentially a sleepover. And with Pyrovision, we know what they saw isn't what the guests saw. The place is decorated like Pyroland, or at least similarly to it. Very cutesy, almost like it was meant to be a place for families to stay. What scares people off is when they start to bring up fire, and also just how much fire-related paraphernalia is left out in the open. Blowtorches, matches, lighters, you name it. To some this is scary, to others its cool. And this seems like some of the only activity you find within the place, outside of the random Spy head they accidentally leave around who starts to insult you. Their presence as a host is either regarded as very sweet or very frightening, with very few in-betweens. They've gotten scolded a few times over for nearly burning the place down, but to them it's just adding more fun things to the place. To them, what they're doing is okay, and there's nothing wrong with it. In their view everyone is happy. The only saving grace with this is perhaps Engineer being by their side a lot, helping with the place, and undoing any damage they do. And also trying to get stuff in for the people staying there, such as a TV and other things to occupy themselves, and food that isn't just sweets and candies.

Demoman

Another one of the more popular hosts, namely due to the luxurious living conditions, and the only payment necessary to stay being alcohol. Buy him a pack of beer? You stay there for free. If you don't, you can just fork over enough money to pay for some alcohol. Given his insurmountable wealth, he provides one of the best experiences, even if he's found drunkenly wandering the halls of the place. Regardless of that, it's furnished, it's fancy, and you even get fancy foods to eat in the fridge, again, no charge. So if anyone is flocking to an Airbnb, it's the one he's a host of. He isn't demanding or anything along those lines, and if you choose to, he can (drunkenly) tell you about his family's history, and how he got to where he is. His presence makes the stay a bit more comforting, as it starts to feel like you have a friend you can talk to at any time you want. There really aren't any downsides to him, he's fair, and you get a cozy place to stay. Well, okay there's a couple downsides. You may have to deal with Eyelander's crap, and depending on the time of year you may have to bare witness to Demoman's eye coming to try and kill him. But 99% of the year you're golden to not have to deal with that.

Heavy

Heavy would be a polite host, probably would make a surplus of Sandviches, and has print-outs of the recipe for people to take home with them. He's kind and is willing to show people around, and introduce them to some of the books he's providing, his only rules are to make sure to be quiet after a certain point of time so that it's not noisy. He does enforce the noise cut off when it gets close to midnight, and is pretty strict about it too. "You are to go to sleep, not be rambunctious." Though he doesn't care if you stay up late, he just says that so you aren't disturbing other people. Like Sniper, Engineer, and Demoman, he is considered to be one of the favorites among the mercs being forced to host. He's considered to be fair and sweet amongst the people who are hosted, and a lot of them will recommend him to people who are thinking of staying in Teufort. He also randomly leaves out books about mini-gun care, and will sometimes talk to people about Sasha, correcting them when they think Sasha is some sort of significant other to him. As in thinking she is either a lover or possibly a child of his, which he has to clarify she is a gun, but he does say she has has her own thoughts and feelings. More in a joking sense, but he still loves to tell people about her.

Engineer

Definitely one of the favorite hosts. Sweet and kind man, makes the place he's in charge of look nice and cozy. Him and Sniper both would win for having the homiest places, and in Engie's case he's definitely have the vintage sense of style that has wood panel walls and such. It's cozy, and he tries to make sure all the spots in the house are cozy enough for the people staying, even going out of his way to maybe get some stuff to better suit people's comfort needs. He does regular maintenance, keeping up with the place every day on the dot. Any leaks, breaks, or cracks, they get fixed in minutes. Any complaints get answered, and he tries to assess the situation to the best of his abilities. And he tries to make small talk so long as the people he's hosting are cool with it, understanding some people wanna just be left alone. Funny enough he does keep in contact with some of the people he hosted after they leave, sometimes inviting them back for a little get together for free. Usually it's for a campfire or maybe a barbecue. He's definitely putting up the better front for the Mann Co. sponsored Airbnb's, and is one of the pillars ensuring the whole thing doesn't come crashing down.

Medic

The question is more why did anyone let this man be in charge of an Airbnb. To him this was the perfect opportunity to get free patients, which ends up making him the worst rated host. Reports of people waking up with multiple tongues, seeing in ultraviolet, and in some cases they wake feeling the need to breathe through water, rather than breathe pure oxygen. Countless instances of this have caused people to consider him frightening, and say that they never want to have him as a host or a doctor the rest of their lives. (To which he retorts, "Ha! As if you have control over that, Dummkopf!") He waits until people are asleep to be able to do these surgeries, and while sometimes they just happen in the bed, sometimes they are transported to his lab, especially if he needs special access to something, or if he needs a specific type of organ he doesn't carry on himself. The place is... not even fully normal, almost looking more like a doctor's office than anything. The rooms also aren't that appealing, looking more like medical rooms. Definitely not a fun place to stay, unless you're into that stuff, or you just really like medical horror. The only slightly nice thing is the flock of doves that randomly shows up... that is until you see Archimedes with blood on his feathers.

Sniper

He tries his best as a host. Tries to make the place look nice and homey, which he does a great job of. His aesthetic is one of rusticity and antiquated nature, so he'd probably make the Airbnb look a bit like his childhood home in Australia. As a host he's a bit quiet, not exactly keen on being around so many people (especially given his occupation), so he just gives the basic rules and says "make too big a mess and ya get to either clean it, or pay for it", which can be a bit threatening even if unintentional. He's one of the few mercs to make the place feel like a home, so it becomes very popular with older tourists, and people with kids, so it feels more like you're just staying at a grandparents house. He's not demanding, just wants you to respect the place and not break anything. (Especially since his mom's probably insisted on knitting a few tapestries for the place.) He himself is barely there, trying to focus on his normal day to day life without it somehow crashing with this weird attempt to not make Mann Co. look like a criminal organization. If he is there, it's usually for a little bit after people have gone to sleep/when he's waking up (so around 3am), and all he's really doing is making sure everything is in order, and maybe taking the time to do his laundry or take a shower. The people staying do know he does this, and he kinda brings it up beforehand. If they aren't comfy with it, he won't enter. But, he isn't there for long before he's back out the door, going to take on whatever jobs the day has.

Spy

Decadence behold this man as he is an Airbnb host. Quite similarly to Demoman he hosts in nothing more than luxury. More for himself, but, he provides it to others, albeit at a cost. See, this is his own abode, his own lounge. He does not want others to tamper with it, so he makes strict rules as to not go into certain areas. No going into the smoking room, the lounge, or a certain bedroom. Go in there, and you will either be kicked out or threatened. He does this for obvious reasons, he is a ladies man, after all, and he wouldn't want to end up disturbing the guests. ...Moreso he doesn't want them to disturb him. He doesn't even like having to be a host, finding it to be a waste of time. He tolerates it so that he may get paid, but that's about it. Despite being a man of mystery, he tends to loom throughout the place. He's wiped clean any proof of who he is as a person, but there's always a lingering fear he has forgotten something. A picture, a medical document, so on. That would be the end for him. Plus, he's particular about his things. So as much as he wants to try to trust anyone, he finds himself suspicious, and needing to make sure everything is in order by the end. If you decide to steal something of his, consider there to be a bounty on your head. His possessions are not cheap.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Hey so you know Aloy from horizon zero dawn? Headcanons for Astarion with a Tav with her pets???

Heyo sorry it took so long! I hope the pets are mostly accurate? If there are any inaccuracies it would be much appreciated should you point them out. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Astarion likes animals, despite how much he tries to prove otherwise, and the fact that your pets look like animals helps him get over the fact that they are basically machines

He is still a little wary of them, considering how huge they are but you don’t seem to mind their size so he trusts them as much as you trust them minus a little bit

He likes to load all his stuff on them on top of the camp supplies they are already carrying, his defence being “they are meant to carry our things aren’t they?”, totally not because he’s feeling lazy

When he gets tired and starts complaining about his feet aching, either Lae’zel or Karlach will throw him onto one of your pets to shut him up (one of the few reasons he tolerates the two)

Your pets are warmer than the usual type of pets the people of Faerun keep, but they are also harder and far less furry, something Astarion constantly weighs in his mind but when you give him a pout upon seeing him move towards Scratch instead of your pets, he relents and cuddles with you and your pets.

He helps you take care of them from time to time, despite all his grumbling (he does it for you, not that he’ll ever tell you that)

He quickly picks up on how to properly maintain them which speed up the process, leaving the both of you with more time to spend together relaxing (neither of you mind this)

Because of that, Astarion often uses the excuse of needing to maintain your pets to sneak off with you (the others don’t need to know the both of you are done maintaining long before you return to camp)

He will constantly deny it but the first time you offered to ride one of your pets with him, he was rather terrified (he got used to the movements after a while)

He loves watching you care for them, there’s something about the way you croon over them that makes his heart go warm

When the two of you perform maintainence, sometimes he just gets so lost watching you work that his hands stop moving but he doesn’t notice it until you point it out/shake him and he will brush it off with “just observing how you do it” or something along those lines

He doesn’t like getting dirty doing maintenence but will get slightly dirty just for you

He does get jealous if you spend too much time with them and not enough time with him, but he isn’t about to start a fight with a giant mechanical creature so he resorts to staring at you until you turn your attention to him

His favourite dates with you include just riding off on one of your pets together, feeling you pressing against him

He doesn’t care where the ride takes the two of you, he just wants to enjoy the wind in his hair and the feeling of you flush against his body (and also he likes the height, not that he’ll ever admit it)

Who rides in front depends on his mood, if he’s feeling sentimental or down, he rides behind and vice versa

If he rides behind, he wraps his waist around you tightly and clings onto you like he’s about to fall off at any moment

He also buries his face into your back so that he can feel as much of you as possible

If he rides in front, he likes it when you wrap your arms around his waist, it makes him feel depended upon because he’s the only thing preventing you from falling off

Even better if he can feel your breath against his ears (as long as you remain quiet his ears are sensitive)

Hearing your laughter as the wind whips through your hair is a beautiful melody to his ears, one that he always captures and saves in his memories

He uses your pets to deliver gifts to you from time to time and then pretends like he isn’t the gifter but your pets only ever listen to you or him…so narrowing down who the gifts came from isn’t hard…you do oblige his “ignorance” however, just to save him some face

Overall, while it may take some time for him to warm up to your pets, he tries his best because of how much you love them and finds his own reasons to love them

[thestrangerblog]

Hair care

Author's note: Here comes my first Percabeth fanfic, a fluffy little showverse story, because I haven't read the books yet. I think Annabeth needs a little pampering and Percy is there to do it.

I'm white, so forgive me if I got the hair care for black girls wrong, all I know about that is from Youtube Videos.

Hair Care

Percy had just taken a much needed shower after returning to camp from his quest to find the lightning bolt. He was on his way back to the Poseidon cabin when he ran into Annabeth who was on her way to the camp showers. Percy stopped in his tracks and couldn’t help but stare.

Annabeth had unbraided her hair which totally changed her appearance. Her hair was all over her head in a wild mess. To him it looked like a halo or a gigantic crown.

“Shut your mouth, seaweed-brain or you’ll start drooling when you’re awake, too.”

Only now did Percy realize that he had been staring open-mouthed at Annabeth. He took her advice and quickly shut his mouth, only to open it again a moment later to say something.

“You look... different.”

“I unbraided my hair so I can wash it,” Annabeth said with an eye-roll.

“I didn’t realize your hair looks like this naturally.”

Percy felt really dumb, but that wasn’t unusual in Annabeth’ company.

“What, messy and filthy?” she asked aggressively.

“No! No, that’s not... I swear I didn’t mean that!” Percy stuttered, slightly panicked. “There’s just... so much of it. It looks fluffy.”

“Fluffy?” Annabeth asked, raising an eyebrow. “What am I, a rabbit?”

But she sounded amused, not angry, so Percy assumed he hadn’t offended her.

Percy laughed. “No, you don’t give rabbit vibes. I think you’d be something more impressive. And smarter of course. An owl maybe, with being Athena’s daughter and all.”

“And you’d be a monkey. One of those tiny ones, maybe a lemur. Loud, annoying, silly, but somehow you not only get away with it, but people even bring you treats,” Annabeth said.

“I don’t know if this was an insult or a compliment.”

“A bit of both, I guess.”

Percy didn’t know what else to say, but also didn’t want to just go away. During the last week he and Annabeth had nearly always been together and he had a feeling that he would feel lonely without her in the big, empty Poseidon cabin.

“Speaking of treats. I still have some of the candies my mother gave me before I left for camp. She works at a candy shop and gets to take home free samples sometimes. Want to come over and share them with me after your shower? Maybe we could borrow a laptop from someone and watch a movie.”

Percy saw Annabeth visibly hesitating.

“I’d really like that, but it’ll take a while for me to be done in the showers and I’m pretty tired. I guess I would just fall asleep 5 minutes into the movie.”

Percy was surprised at that. He had only taken 10 minutes in the shower even though he needed to wash off a week’s dirt. He hadn’t thought Annabeth was the high maintenance type of girl who took forever in the bathroom. Considering that Percy had had enough near death experiences over the past week he decided not to voice his thoughts. But apparently that wasn’t necessary. Either his facial expression had given him away or Annabeth could read his mind.

The girl rolled her eyes. “My hair needs a lot more work to not look like a mess then yours, seaweed-brain. Getting the tangles out takes forever and needs more than just shampoo.”

“Oh.”

Should he have known that? Was it dumb or insensitive of him not to know that?

“I could help,” he offered spontaneously. “With the hair, not with the shower!” he quickly clarified, blushing.

After everything Annabeth had done for him he really wanted to give something back. And he was somehow fascinated with the way her hair looked unbraided and really wanted to know how it felt to touch it.

“You want to come with me into the girls restrooms?” she asked.

“No, you could just come to my cabin after your shower.”

“Do you have a sink in your cabin?” Annabeth asked.

Now it was Percy’s turn to give Annabeth an eye-roll, a deeply satisfying experience.

“I’m the son of Poseidon, wise-girl. I don’t need a sink, I can just get a bucket of water and make the water move like with a shower-head.”

“Really?” Annabeth asked, sounding impressed. She was impressed by him!

Percy shrugged. “I practiced a little when I was alone in the cabin and couldn’t sleep.”

“Okay, I’ll humor you and let you give me a demonstration. But no sea water. That will only make it worse.”

Percy got the bucket he had for his water experiments from his cabin and filled it with warm water in the boys shower. Annabeth arrived at his cabin only a few minutes later. She had changed her clothes, but her hair was dry, meaning she apparently hadn’t started with whatever washing routine she had.

“Okay, I have the water and I know how to use shampoo, but apart from that I’m pretty lost, so I’ll need a bit of help,” Percy admitted.

Annabeth nodded. She had lived in a cabin with siblings of both sexes and from different ethnicities for five years now (apparently her mother didn’t have a type), so she knew that hair care was much easier for white kids, especially for boys.

“Okay, so, my hair needs a lot of moisture. I actually start with a conditioner and a lot of water and then slowly detangle my hair, first with my fingers, then with a tangle teaser brush. Then I use shampoo, then conditioner again and in the end I put oil in my hair and leave it in.”

Percy nodded. “Doesn’t sound too difficult.

Annabeth laughed. “You won’t repeat that after you have started getting the tangles out.”

“Okay, I thought you could just sit in a chair, I stand behind you and put the water bucket next to us.”

“Sounds good to me,” Annabeth said.

Annabeth sat down and Percy stood behind the chair and let the water come out of the basket in a little fountain that went to Annabeth head and then back into the basket and up again in a circuit.

Annabeth looked impressed. “You really have practiced a lot.”

Percy shrugged. “Not really. It didn’t take long for me to get it right. Anything with water comes naturally to me. Would you like a blanket or something for your neck to be more comfortable?”

Annabeth looked surprised to be asked that, but nodded. “That would be nice, thank you.”

Percy rolled the blanket from his bed and put it at the back of the chair so Annabeth could lean back comfortably. He gently put his hands on her hair and guided it to get it soaked with water. It really was fluffy. When Annabeth’ hair was thoroughly wet which took surprisingly long Percy took the conditioner Annabeth had brought with her and gently started untangling Annabeth hair. She had been right, it really wasn’t that easy to detangle the thick strands, but Percy didn’t mind. He started at the neck and gently untangled Annabeth’ hair strand for strand. Then he carefully brushed her hair out. Then he put shampoo in his hands and gently lathered Annabeth’ hair with it. Now he could easily get through her locks with his fingers. He made sure that the shampoo got everywhere, gently massaging Annabeth scalp while foaming the shampoo. Annabeth had closed her eyes during the detangling and was now leaning back in the chair to give Percy better access. Her face didn’t have her usual cool and aloof expression, she looked emotional and to Percy’s surprise a tear escaped her. Annabeth had apparently noticed that, too and tensed. Percy, who had gotten good at fast reactions, let a bit of water run down Annabeth’ cheeks.

“Sorry,” Percy mumbled, making it look like an accident.

“It’s okay,” Annabeth said and relaxed again, now that she didn’t have to worry about controlling her reactions to the tender care anymore.

Now it was Percy who had to control himself when he realized how foreign tenderness must be to Annabeth. He took a deep breath to control his sudden anger at Annabeth’ family and concentrated on the task at hand. In this moment he swore to himself to give Annabeth as much affection as possible whenever he got a chance.

Percy washed away the shampoo with water before stopping his make-shift fountain and then put conditioner in Annabeth hair again, spreading it thoroughly. Then he applied the oil and rubbed Annabeth’ hair with the towel until it wasn’t dripping anymore.

Annabeth stood up and faced Percy, looking insecure and almost shy, what was so strange for her.

“Thank you, Percy.”

Percy smiled. “You’re welcome. If you want to, I can always do your hair when we are at camp. You can teach me how to braid, if you want.”

“You’d do that?” Annabeth asked, surprised,

Percy nodded and hoped that it didn’t look too eager. He really loved going through Annabeth hair with his fingers and he enjoyed being able to spend time alone with her.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

[itsohh]

Interupted Rest

A/N: Not much happens here ngl but this was just a scene really I had stuck in my head. (Aka I'm down bad for vampire!ghost feeding off his s/o.

Summary: After getting send out on a mission with Ghost, a change in events has his life in your hands at the possible cost of your own. Life is where the blood is and you have to decide on who needs it the most.

Word count: 2191

Warnings: Violence, self inflicted injury

Part 1 AO3 Masterlist

Normally you spent most of your time specifically looking after Kyle. He was, of course, the member who required the most amount of maintenance. Not because of his own fault but a lot of your time was spent just making sure he was paired correctly. The rest of them could quite easily handle themselves if shipments were late or they were forced to sustain themselves with less-than-ideal amounts of blood. Kyle was an unknown entity and no one wanted to find out how long it would take for him to snap. The battlefield wasn't the right place for a starving newborn. You did your job well when it came to looking after Gaz. You handled him well.

Yet, Laswell had you looking after Ghost. No one else was on any mission. This time she had you actually travel with him to base camp, you didn't know if he would want you with him out in the field and she hadn't told you about doing so. Either way, you would do what was needed of you. This led to you sitting across from him in the vehicle in silence. Perhaps a few months ago it would have been daunting or uncomfortable with the way he seemed to stare right through you but now you’ve grown rather used to it. Whatever intimidation and fear he had stirred inside you had long since died.

In all honesty, the long ride had you rather tired. A yawn escaped your lips while you covered your mouth with your hand.

"Rest up Agent." Ghost's voice cut through the monotone sound of the vehicle. "I'll wake you when we get near." With another yawn, you nodded at him and allowed your head to fall back against the seat. Your eyes gently closed and soon sleep consumed you.

-

The awakening you received was by no means gentle, it was loud, jarring, and the extreme movement jostled you awake. Sleep blinked from your eyes, you couldn't quite comprehend the crash as it happened but it soon registered upon you when you hung upside down. The seat belt kept you up for a moment and your eyes searched for everyone else in the vehicle. Your eyes went to Ghost who was utterly still across you. Could vampires get knocked out? Then your eyes went to the piece of shrapnel that had dug itself into the side of his neck. It was about a third of the way in. You hoped to the gods that he was still alive.

A glance at the front of the vehicle told you that the two men in the front certainly weren't alive. Blood coated the windshield on both sides while their heads were both lodged inside of it. Without hesitation, you unbuckled yourself and fell to the ground with a grunt. The crumbled glass didn't do any damage to you, protected by your jacket. You crawled over to Ghost in the mangled wreck where your hands went for the piece of shrapnel.

It was certainly lodged in there and you mentally prayed that it hadn’t done enough damage to kill him. The piece took a decent amount of strength but you managed to lodge it free. You flinched for a moment, expecting a spray of blood but nothing came. You didn't know if that was good or bad.

For a second you stared at it and then slowly but surely, the skin started to knit itself together just around the corners. A breath of relief left your mouth as you quickly unbuckled him. Ghost's large figure fell onto the ground in front of you and you started to pull him from the wreck. He was heavy- really heavy.

Perhaps it was because he was so muscular or so tall, perhaps vampires just weighed more but he was extremely heavy. Still, you managed to drag him out despite the protest in your arms. Just outside of the vehicle and you paused. Exhaustion consumed you and you wiped away the sweat from your head. When you went to grab him again, you noticed your hand was painted slightly with a thin line of blood. You swallowed and put your hand back up to your head to touch the wet spot.

No wonder why you felt so tired. Your hand fumbled around and found a bandage on your person which you used to wrap around your head. It wasn't an amazing job but it would certainly help. Your eyes went back to Ghost. He was still so frozen and the healing around the wound had stopped. Perhaps it was focusing on the deeper part of the wound? You hoped he had recently fed, the boys normally did before they went out but Ghost was always an unknown entity. You could feel yourself become rather drowsy which wasn't good when you heard voices in the distance.

Your hands went to try and grab Ghost but your arms refused to drag him anymore. Not in your current state. Unconsciousness was going to come for you and you only had a little amount of time to act. You knew that if they saw you alive they would kill you, whoever was approaching most likely caused the crash. It had to be an ambush.

So to your great displeasure, you reluctantly let go of Ghost. Slowly but surely you moved away from him into the bushes and trees. Not too far away you slumped down against the trunk of a tree and allowed foliage and a nearby bush to hide your location. Your head throbbed and you covered your mouth. If any of them were vampires, you would be dead the instant they heard your heartbeat but if they were human you had a chance.

Every second you stayed there felt like a lifetime. Eventually, the men approached the wreck and you listened as they mumbled to each other. You leaned over for just a second to see two stand over Ghost. The gunfire didn't make you flinch but a piece of you died as one fired a shot dead centre into Ghost's brain. Your head snapped back from the sight just enough time for your dizziness to overtake you and your vision to go black.

-

When you awoke the men were long gone. A surge of life left you feeling a bit more refreshed while the bandage had dried to your head. You got up from your hiding spot and scoured the area for any sign of life. You noticed whatever supplies that had fallen from the vehicle were gone, most likely taken by them.

The dirt in the air had long since settled down. It had been a while since they left. Thankfully they didn't bother to come looking for you, most likely they thought everyone died in the crash. They certainly made sure of it with the double tap to Ghost's head- or so they thought. You approached his body. Aside from the hole in his mask, he looked exactly the same. Laswell's words echoed in your mind. Complete unrepairable damage to the heart or removal of the head.

Surely he was still alive? Right?

“Dude lives probably hundreds of years then dies on my watch." You mumbled as you moved his head about, examining it. Beneath his head lay the bullet lodged into the ground. It had gone all the way through. "Laswell's gonna kill me."

You paused and sat back for a moment, your eyes roamed over his still body. There was only one way to jump-start his body, to heal. However, you had already lost a bit of blood from your head injury. Hopefully however long you were out for was enough to replenish yourself. Your hand wandered to your dagger and flexed your grip on the handle before you unsheathed it.

With a swallow, you dragged it across your left palm. The sting had you cringe but you bit down on the edge of your lip and continued. Your eyes went to Ghost. His mouth was covered. Of course it was, he wore that mask everywhere. The dagger was placed on the ground next to him and you curled the mask up just enough to expose his mouth. Aside from the light scars that decorated the bottom of his face, he looked fairly normal. They were quite hard to see as well. You could only see them due to how the sun hit them. With your wounded hand, you raised it above his mouth and clenched your fist closed and blood started to stream down into his mouth. The pain had you wince and your hand shook slightly and the bottom of your fist brushed against his lips. Slowly but surely you swore his lips part slightly more.

Then in a movement you couldn't possibly comprehend, his hand snatched out at your wrist and pulled your hand towards his face. Due to your surprise, your fist unballed and slapped against his mouth. Ghost's eyes were still closed but you felt the sharp deep pain of what felt like two thin needles piercing into your skin. His soft lips latched onto your skin and started to suck hard.

"Ghost." You whispered and you felt it, the pressure he pulled your life from your body. He was taking it, as much as he could and fast. It dawned upon you that he wasn't going to stop. You pulled on his grip but had little effect as his grip was locked tight.

"Ghost, stop. Fuck, stop." Your voice was desperate as your head started to rush. Dizziness mixed with lightheadedness washed over you as a wave and you could feel your body start to falter. "Simon please." You whimpered and suddenly his eyes flung open. Piercing sharp he sat up at an inhuman speed. The wound from his head had healed as well as the one in his neck.

Your wrist was pulled away from his lips and he seemed a little dazed. His eyes searched your surroundings and eventually settled on you with narrow eyes. "Well, at least Laswell won't skin me." You mumbled under your breath and he let go of your wrist like it burnt him.

"Thanks for stopping, big guy." You winced and his eyes went to your now closed fist again.

"I bit you."

"Uh-huh." You avoided his gaze and started to look for any more of your bandages. "Fuck, don't tell me I didn't bring more."

"What do you need?"

"Bandages to stop the bleeding."

"The holes from my bite are small enough to clot by itself." Your eyes rose to meet his. Did he think he bit you without warning? You opened your hand to reveal the slice that ran across.

"...You weren't healing." He didn't reply right away, just silently stared at your hand for a moment before he got a bandage from his pouch. Ghost took your hand with a gentleness that surprised you and started to wrap your wound.

"Your head. How bad is it?"

"I passed out from it earlier. I didn't have the strength to pull you away from the wreck more before they came."

"Who?"

"Russians." He pulled the bandage tight and secured it before he started to look at your head.

"This needs to be redressed."

"Are you a medic Lieutenant?"

"Know my way around the human body."

"Yeah, I bet you do." You hadn't meant for your words to sound so suggestive but he cocked a brow regardless. "Uh-"

Before you could apologise he started to unwrap your work. You winced at the feeling as it ripped away the dried blood and reopened the wound slightly.

"You lost a lot of blood. Shouldn't have been giving me any." He pulled the canteen from his hip and started to clean it. Water mixed with blood ran down your face and your eyes shut while he worked.

"Ha- do the words 'skinned alive' mean anything to you? It's what Laswell would do to me if I didn't come back with you."

"If I hadn't woken up I would have drained you."

"Yeah, that would have put a thorn in my weekend plans. Shit happens I guess though."

His eyes met yours. "I would have killed you."

"Yeah."

"Most people would be upset about that."

"I made my decision, gotta live with whatever consequences that happens. You didn't kill me, which is super cool." The fresh bandage was secured around your head and he pulled back and pulled his mask back down.

"You should learn some preservation skills."

"Wouldn't have taken this job if I had any." You thought he would scowl you again but he didn't. A light chuckle rumbled from his throat.

"Just as bad as Johnny is. Do you have any other wounds or do I need to strip you down?"

Your face grew hot at the thought and your eyes widened slightly. "As tempting as the thought is. I'm good. Maybe another time?" Despite your confident words, they came out more like a squeak and he seemed. But amused at your response.

"Another time then. Come on, the sun has almost finished setting. We need to set somewhere for you to sleep."

[smallnico]

Asks are back on the menus boys!

Hopefully I'm not repeating any of these but I think I might be, sorry. I'm on mobile and trying to memorize numbers which is something I'm not good at 5,6,13,26

asks are ALWAYS on the menu!! >:3 thank u for giving me an excuse to feast!!

and no, you're good! none of these are repeated. i also feel you on the memorizing numbers thing, i'm awful at it too, i literally need to repeat them aloud to myself on a constant loop so i don't forget them while i'm on mobile. :p

5. Describe their idle animations!

at camp, esper is usually either doing ballet drills to practice their form and flexibility, polishing their weapons, playing their lyre idly (doing the magic scanning thing i mentioned), or doing maintenance on their training dummy full of swords. sometimes you'll see them shielding their eyes from the sun like minthara does. if you're paying attention you can also catch them twitching or clenching their fist or rubbing their wrists -- that's the urge. you'll also hear them humming a little lullaby to themself, which is their main mindfulness tool when they're feeling agitated.

on the road, if you're standing still, esper will start stretching and loosening up so they're ready for a fight if one happens, or they'll be visibly listening to their surroundings and gathering information, especially if there are people around.

6. How would the player go about meeting them in Act 1? What is their introduction?

you run into esper near the crash site, already covered in blood and standing over a body that they've clearly taken clothes off of. they flag you down and ask if you're another survivor from the ship. they're cagey with information, admit that they have something squirming behind their eye and that they don't remember anything from before the ship. you can do the usual introductions and invitations to tag along, to which they'll be pleasantly surprised and introduce themself as "... sper. esper. i think."

but of course, if you pass a passive perception check, you'll notice that the body you found them with is looking a lot more Lacerated than the others you've seen near the crash site, and you can examine it using medicine or investigation. you can figure out that this person didn't die in the crash, they Were Killed, and you can point this out somewhere before esper explains their situation. they'll be straightforward and say that yes, they think they killed this person, but they don't remember doing it -- and an insight check reveals that they're actually Not Lying. to which other party members or you can nominate the tadpole as an explanation or tell them you'll be keeping an eye on them, which they'll meet with a little bow and say thank you, before introducing themself properly.

13. What is your Tav’s main color palette? Why do they choose those colors?

mostly black, lmao. i stylize a bit in my art so it looks more purple, but 90% of what esper wears is black fabric or leather and grey metal (and cobra-toned and earth toned yuan-ti scale mail!). for this one i'll explain using some party banter i wrote:

Esper: Astarion, do you know a good way to get viscera out of clothes? Astarion: Good table manners certainly help. Esper: But half the fun of spilling blood and tearing into flesh is the reckless carnality of it, the warmth of it dripping down your neck, into your -- Esper: (coughs) Um. Sorry. Astarion: ... Congratulations, I'm speechless. Do go on, dear. Shadowheart: You're both so disgusting. Astarion: To answer your question from before, salt in cold water does wonders, if you can't use magic. Astarion: Dare I ask what you've been doing instead? Esper: Wearing dark colours. Astarion: Mhm... that would explain the smell.

... all this to say, esper likes dark colours because they hide bloodstains better. very practical. they also feel silly and self-conscious in brighter colours. they don't like drawing too much undue attention to themself, and since they already stand out so much visually, they don't like to double down on that.

26. Give us one of your Tav’s secrets!

oh, where to start? apart from the obvious -- murder urges, bhaalist history, etc., all that is a pretty big secret. but i want to share some bonus esper trivia instead, so here you go, have many secrets:

esper is claustrophobic, especially when they're by themself. they don't know why, but it's because they spent a portion of their childhood locked in a dungeon alone except for people who occasionally came in to try and kill them. the brain forgets, but the body remembers.

they're also afraid of mirrors. they don't like looking at their own reflection outside of themself, it makes them feel dissociative, and they swear they can see Someone Else staring back through their eyes.

esper really relaxes if someone they trust is grooming them -- brushing their hair, cleaning their nails, that kind of thing. they really like having their hair tugged in a specific spot as an extension of this, because they used to have long hair they needed someone else to braid and maintain for them.

they have pointy teeth but they also have naturally tough and pointed nails. they start clipping them short after alfira.

they're fully nose-blind to the smell of death and gore. they do not notice it.

esper can literally hear lies and emotions. one of the things they were trained to do from childhood was tune into the passive magic in the world around them to listen for and interpret the "ripples" caused by people going about their business. they can also use this skill to hone in on where people are directing their attentions. this is the main tool they use to tailor their people-pleasing approach, but they also use it to be nosy. it's how they navigate the world without memories or morals or empathy.

they can also use this ability to manipulate people's emotions or redirect their attentions using very subtle magic, it just takes a bit of practice for them to remember how.

esper is missing some organs and bits of organs after their necromancer adventure. kressa took a kidney and a big chunk out of their liver in particular, since they're totally fucked from a lifetime of drinking poison (drow move), and now esper is a lightweight who gets sick from a small amount of alcohol or poison, and their constitution is kind of a hit or a miss lmao.

they're also missing some ribs for the same reason -- kressa took those as a souvenir. part of why i almost always draw esper wearing a corset or brace around their waist is because they're trying to compensate for an imbalance they feel in their muscle memory and to take some of the structural support strain off of their abs.

(yes, they've tried it. they didn't like it.)

[arecaceae175]

Ill At Ease

LOZ AU Gift Exchange fic for @thenmichael based on his Links Meet AU @chained-spirits!!! :D

Summary: Reaper, Champion, and Picori fight a battle. Reaper tries to help Picori with his injury even though Picori does not want to accept his help. Warnings: monster battle, mild injury, remembering pain. None of it is too graphic. 1.5k, action and hurt/comfort.

Also, I made a little discord emoji art of Champion as a tbh emoji since Champion is autistic hehe.

Fic and art both under the cut :D

Picori froze so suddenly that Reaper nearly ran into him. Reaper had to skid to a stop, and he held an arm out behind him to keep Champion from running into him. He should have known not to bother, though. Champion liked to keep his distance. 

Picori’s ears twitched, both angling forwards. Reaper glanced at the ground to make sure he wouldn’t step on anything loud as he moved next to Picori. 

“What is it?” Reaper whispered.

Picori’s hand moved to his sword. “I hear something. Something big.”

Reaper reached over his shoulder and unhooked his shield. He glanced at Champion, but he was looking off into the forest.

Reaper clicked his tongue to get Champion’s attention then mouthed, “Monsters ahead.”

Champion nodded and drew his sword. Reaper couldn’t hold back a cringe at the weapon’s quality. It looked like it had never seen a day of maintenance. Knowing Champion, he probably pulled it from a monster camp.

Crack.

Reaper whipped around. The sound of the branch breaking echoed in the forest, close enough that Reaper and Champion could hear now. More cracks and rustles followed; it was a horde of monsters. 

“Weapons ready,” Reaper said quietly.

Picori pulled his boomerang out of his bag and drew his sword. Reaper drew his, readied his shield, and stepped in front of Picori. He heard Picori huff in disdain, but as always, he ignored it. Leaves rustled just out of sight, and birds screeched as they flocked into the air. Reaper twisted his sword, crouching easily into his battle stance. 

Monsters poured out of the forest, screeching a battle cry. Picori’s arm twitched like he wanted to cover his ears, but there was no time. Reaper matched their battle cry with a yell of his own and he swung his sword in an attack. The first bokoblin fell easily, nearly sliced in half. It was the smallest of the bunch, shoved onto the front lines as a distraction, Reaper theorized. 

The dozen monsters were a mixture of bokoblins and moblins, wielding weapons from pristine swords to wooden clubs. In the back of the pack, an enormous moblin held a wooden shield and a spear taller than Reaper. On either side of him, Champion and Picori were already pitted against two bokoblins each. As much as he wanted to keep half an eye on them both, he forced his gaze to narrow on the moblin charging him. Reaper snarled, and dove into the fray. 

The moblin swung its sword at Reaper, aimed for his throat. The movement was sloppy but strong, and Reaper’s arm vibrated with the force of blocking the sword. He dug his heels into the ground and he pushed the sword away with his shield. The moblin recoiled, knocked off balance, and Reaper lunged forward. He bashed the moblin with his shield then unleashed a flurry of powerful sword strikes. The moblin collapsed at his feet, dead before it hit the ground.

A bokoblin screeched. Instinct took over and Reaper rolled to the side as its club hit the ground where he had been standing. Reaper used his momentum to land on his feet and slash at the bokoblin’s back. It fell forward, then Reaper leapt and landed with his sword in its chest. It sputtered, then faded to dust. 

A sharp pain engulfed Reaper’s arm as he was knocked to the ground. A moblin snarled above him, rearing back to smash its club on his head. Reaper flipped up to his feet and raised his sword, but his muscles screamed in pain. He quickly dropped his shield and tossed his sword to his right hand in time to spin attack the moblin. As he finished the spin he jumped away and scooped up his shield with his left hand, ignoring the throbbing pain in his arm. 

Seemingly out of nowhere, Champion leapt onto the back of the moblin and stabbed it in the neck. He left the sword in as he flipped away and grabbed a discarded club as he landed, then rushed away to finish off the last of the bokoblins. 

Reaper spared a moment to scan the battle. Champion was fighting the remaining bokoblin, and Picori was darting between two moblins, never slowing long enough for either to land a hit. He threw his boomerang to stun one while he slashed the other, then stabbed the first as he picked up his boomerang. He had them covered. Reaper tore his gaze away.

The largest moblin screamed, spit flying from its mouth as it charged him. Reaper quickly analyzed; it was too tall to jump over, so he couldn’t do the Helm Splitter, and its shield would block most of his other attacks. He tightened his grip on his shield and baited the moblin, waiting for it to strike with its spear. It eventually thrust forward, and Reaper quickly rolled to the side and slashed its back. 

He screeched and arched forward, but quickly recovered and swung around, shield up. Reaper was patient, and waited for the perfect moment to strike each time. It took so many attacks that Reaper lost count by the time the moblin finally collapsed into a heap in the dirt. 

Reaper’s chest heaved, the battle adrenaline fading as he looked across the forest and found it blissfully empty of monsters. He sheathed his sword and rehooked his shield, then his gaze went immediately to his companions. 

Champion was surveying the forest, sword and pot lid shield still held in a white-knuckled grip. It was a new sword, taken off of one of the enemies, but in no better condition. He glanced at Reaper, then Picori, then hastily signed, “Scout for others,” and vaulted into the forest. 

“Champion, wait!” Reaper lifted an arm towards him in reflex, but gasped in pain and let his arm fall back to his side. He didn’t know if Champion meant he was scouting for more monsters, or going to check on the others. Either way, Reaper was going to have to have another talk with him about going off on his own. That was not how their group should function. 

Somewhere behind him, there was a sharp intake of breath. Reaper whipped around, uninjured arm darting to the hilt of his sword. Picori was crouched on the ground, sword and boomerang discarded haphazardly on the ground. He was hesitantly poking his thigh, where a long gash was slowly leaking beads of blood. 

Reaper was by his side in a second. “Picori! Are you okay? What happened?”

Picori flinched away and landed on his hip with one hand thrown out for balance. “Stop screaming!” He snapped. 

Reaper bit back his automatic response of I wasn’t screaming and took a deep breath. “Sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

Reaper felt the urge to roll his eyes. He should’ve known better than to ask the kid that, really. Undeterred, he slung his back around to his front–ignoring the twinge of pain in his arm–and dug for a potion, bandages, and the special bottle of alcohol he kept for disinfecting wounds. 

He shuddered, remembering the feverish haze and the searing, burning pain as he had stumbled through the forest with an infected wound on his arm, back in the days of his first adventure. He remembered Midna guiding him and blindly following her instruction, then waking up in a bed in Kakariko three days later, with Colin’s teary eyes staring down at him. His cheeks burned with shame. That was not a time he liked to remember, and he wasn’t willing to repeat it. 

Reaper shook his head and brought himself back to the present, forcefully steering his thoughts away from Midna. Picori was here, right in front of him, and needed his help. He put the bottle of alcohol next to the bandages, and the potion just out of Picori’s reach. 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Reaper asked.

“No.”  

“Good,” Reaper said. He uncorked the bottle of alcohol. Picori’s ears twitched and turned around and saw the bottle, then scowled and crossed his arms. 

“We need to disinfect the wound,” Reaper explained. 

“I don’t need your advice. Or your help!” 

Reaper sighed, but kept his frown off his face. Picori was so small, huddled up on the dirt. He was such a capable fighter, but he was still a kid. He shouldn’t have to be a fighter, he shouldn’t have to be sitting on the ground in pain, he should be home and safe. 

“Let me help you. Please. It’ll make me feel better.”

Picori’s ears wiggled as he glanced at Reaper out of the corner of his eye. His frown was clearly visible on his face, but after a moment of silence he reluctantly nodded. Reaper’s face broke into a smile and he felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. 

“Fine,” Picori said. 

“Thank you,” Reaper mutters. 

“But I’m not drinking that whole potion. I saw you get hit in the arm.”

“Wha–” Reaper sputtered, then huffed a laugh. “Okay, okay, that’s fair. Brace, this’ll sting.”

Picori curled one arm around himself, the other gripping a small tuft of grass by his side. 

The kid needed a distraction. Reaper smirked. “Nice to know you care, under all that snark.”

Picori’s head whipped around, wide eyes boring into him. “What? No! I just… You’re… Rrg!”

Reaper chuckled as Picori tried to come up with a defense, but nothing could hide the pink tinge on the tips of his ears.