#good thing today's story is a short one
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Starseed Apples
“Here you go,” I said, putting down the last box. “Uncut fabric, plumbing supplies, and three cases with a fungus biohazard label. Do I even want to know what’s in those?” I cast a curious look at my fellow human as I handed over the signing pad. She was shorter and rounder than I was, dressed in a crisp uniform of a type I didn’t recognize. Big pockets everywhere.
She signed with a wry grin. “Those are dirt.”
“Dirt?” I repeated, looking around the admittedly spotless loading dock of this particular space station. “Dirt warrants a biohazard here?”
“Oh, you have no idea,” she said, handing the pad back. “Organic mulch that could contain anything from decomposed animals to fungus to poop? With uncountable amounts of bacterial life and potential germs? We’re lucky they only focused on the mold aspect!”
“Hm, good point,” I said.
Zhee, who was busy moving boxes off the hover sled, muttered something disparaging. I expected him to complain about how gross it all was, since he was always the first to point out when humans did something to offend his bug-alien sensibilities, but it sounded like he was griping about the strict station rules this time.
The human continued. “We have to keep a clean room between the greenhouse area and everything else. Even there, most things are in pots. We’ve got a great crop from Johnny Starseed right now!”
I’d heard that name before. “Oh, was he the one who sells little potted—”
“Apple trees, yeah,” she said. “Tiny and convenient, but they make an impressive number of apples as long as you feed ‘em quality dirt.” She bent down to pat a box.
Zhee finished freeing the sled. “Reasonable business plan,” he said, sounding almost complimentary.
“The guy named himself after Johnny Appleseed,” I told Zhee. “A human from centuries ago who got famous for traveling around and setting up apple orchards on Earth. Everybody likes a guy who brings food wherever he goes. And drink — I think some of those apples were supposed to be the cider variety.”
Zhee flicked his antennae. “Sounds like a very human thing to do,” he said drily.
“Have you tried the Starseed Reds?” the other human asked. “They’re very good.”
“No I haven’t, but I’d like to!” I said. “I’ve heard good things. I was kind of hoping to cross paths with him at some point. I wouldn’t mind a tiny apple tree in my quarters. Of course, the cat might get at it, and I’d probably have to find a grow lamp…”
She opened a boxy hip pocket, and pulled out the shiniest red apple I’d seen in a while. “Here you go.”
“Thank you!” I said, taking it eagerly. “That’s very generous!”
She waved it off. “Like I said, we’ve got a big crop. And I’ve got a different one that I’m saving for when I get off shift.” From another pocket, she produced a red apple with distinct orange stripes. “Which should be as soon as I get the supplies back to base.”
I laughed. “Is that the booze kind? I didn’t think those were real!”
“Oh yes,” she said with relish, putting it back in the pocket. “Starseed Cider Apples, no fermenting required!”
Zhee cocked his head, faceted eyes looking at both of us. “Poisonous apples?”
“Alcoholic apples,” I corrected, knowing full well that he considered that to be the same thing.
Zhee pushed the hover cart back toward the ship with a dramatic head tilt and antennae swirl. “Now that sounds like a human thing to do.”
“Well, you’re not wrong there,” I said with a smile. I thanked the other human and followed him, taking a bite of my non-alcoholic apple. It really was good.
~~~
The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come!
#hm new posting interface#not a fan#SURELY there's a way to do this without having to add in the paragraph breaks manually#good thing today's story is a short one#annnnnyways...#my writing#the Token Human#humans are weird#haso#hfy#eiad#humans are space orcs#writeblr#science fiction#short stories
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crumbs in your bed
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#bakuspecial#comic#horror#cw: child abuse#cw: body horror#ask to tag#hi! hello. this is basically just a goosebump story I think. or a scary stories to tell in the dark entry#that's kinda what I aim for? along with the good ol vibe of fuan no tane#and also the like. Thing in east asian art where they make the main character a generic white person and then#every other thing about the setting is deeply recogniseably common asian shit lmao#that's entertainment for me. this came about extremely haphazardly... its why the first two pages look nothing like#the rest of it fsdjfhdsjhf. I slammed those out at a cafe like two days ago#went into this one no plan outside of a general sense of direction#I dont think Ive ever actually designed a single character in any of the short horror comics I did. like either its me or#I made someone up as I went. genuinely didnt know what the character'd look like until I sketched em#and then I kept referencing previous panels to draw em. dont know if I recommend this method#mmmm on reread not super sure if the sound effect of the bed leaving the room is clear enough... oh well there are other comics#been writing a lot about food and places recently Ive found out. oh yeah dyou know whats funny#I watched a wayner highlight vid of the kingdom heart charity stream today (I do not know anything about kingdom heart) and realized#how much of kingdom heart (at least the first one) is about like. places.#which is like. good job baku great deep read there isn't kingdom heart literally behind a door. arent there doors all over the place.#isnt the biggest symbol from that game taht EVERYONE knows about the KEYblade. for locks on door#fskdjfhdj but yeah its just. very cool to me that that game really does have iconic recogniseable sites. like the scenes are all tied to#where they happen at. and the climactic battle happens in a black void around a door. its good#good story about leaving ur home after ur friends aren't there anymore and being changed so much by what you go through that#you can no longer call where you started at home anymore. I am being conned by the music#anyways. yeah I go sleep now. powered thru the last 4 pages of this so its done and out there. hope my bed will not do this#have a good night lads! be careful of bugs
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just wanted to thank everyone that's been encouraging me or offering some kind of support the last few times I talked about getting a cane... because I went and got one today and I didn't think it would make that much of a difference. I underestimated how much it would change for me.
So thank you <33
#got a prescription from my GP last week and gathered my nerves together to get one today#thankfully we have a health care supply store only ten minutes away on foot#I'd planend on getting an anatomical one as prescribed by my GP and it was comfortable and id probably have chosen it too but#then the lady there told me to try the derby handle instead and honestly that was even better plus i can use it on both sides#its sleek and black for now because i can barely bear the thought of anyone seeing me using a cane in our small town in the first place#but once im comfortable..#anyway we went to a shop across the street afterwards because my besties mum needed to get some things and I didn't wanna go home by myself#and tbh i preferred the thought of going into our small city centre with somebody i trusted and felt comfortable around the first time aroun#long story short im super suprised by the difference it's making 😬 i mean ofc i didn't just get the cane on a fluke#but it was like 'well let's try it out it may help and people keep saying it's for stability and chronic pain too so why not'#yeah so apparently i did need it#i felt so much better#there were several instances where i noticed the cane kept me from stumbling or swaying or missing a step#it felt good#so thank you all
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truly part of why most things i show or whatever r sketchy doodles i did in one sitting is that it is always a race against the clock when im doing something before The Evil takes over and eats me. i get stressed about if i try to actually make something pretty bc i know i cant lol, and if i take too long [staring nervously at the google docs i keep opening and closing] on a fic it's harder to finish bc i start Thinking about it too much and if it's any good or if it's cringe or What Ever
#a battle against myself truly lol ..................#ive been making slow progress on the kalim/silver and jamil/azul story but. but.#im stuck and afraid lol#the heartslabyul thing i started writing a month ago i am like. at the end ? it's a short little simple thing but#ive frozen in like 'oh this is lame and bad and boring and cringe actually' and cant bring myself to finish#i have a cater/trey thing where i wrote up the idea/concept notes when the idea came to me#bc it's both a ship fic and also a character/relationship study#but then thats one where im extra afraid to write it bc it's likeohhh i want it to be good and handled well and i want my#point to come across and i dont want to fuck it up#grrr grrr grrr the downside of perception is thinking too much of. the perception of others JKLFDSJKFLJS#i want to be FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE#also i just have. personal issues. self love issues LOL but im not getting into that rn.#i also have had nasty allergies all week girl help it's raining pollen and my throats fucked up#i took a covid test today just in case and it was negative#and my partner hasnt gotten sick from kissing me so im more sure its allergies lol but OUGHGHGHGHH feels ick#ok anyway. fics and fanart or w/e. it all comes back to the root problem of I Have Low Self Esteem GOODBYE!!!!#🤧🤧🤧!!!!!!!!!!!
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Play for Today: One Bummer News Day (BBC, 1978)
"Ah, good morning to you. Peter Postgate of the Gazette, anything for us? No factory fires? No house fires? Well, what about your district agents? Not even a moggy up a tree? Wow, all right for some, isn't it. Yeah, and you."
#one bummer news day#play for today#1978#bbc#single play#classic tv#michael darlow#andy mcsmith#simon rouse#kenneth colley#madelaine newton#alan tilvern#gordon gostelow#william maxwell#gordon hammersley#lizzie mckenzie#diana sowman#sheila grant#matthew kelly#tom cotcher#phil mccall#a short but tightly written satirical piece on regional journalism‚ the only tv credit of McSmith (later a successful political journalist)#sort of an ensemble piece but Rouse's firebrand journo is undoubtedly the centre piece: the heart of the plot is in the final ten minutes#as his piece on urban poverty gets buried and he rounds angrily on the editorial staff in a seeming burst of journalistic integrity and#personal principle‚ only to fold under the pressure of his own professional ambition once he realises making a stand might cost him a good#story that's coming up. it's a hawkish‚ sharp script underneath all the jokes about non stories and the scrabbling for material on a slow#news day: what starts as a gentle jibing at the inherent ridiculousness of a room full of people attempting to spin relevant news out of#non starter copy ends with the unmistakable whiff of moral bankruptcy and a damning sense that there really is no such thing as a free#press‚ and even if there were‚ no certainty that there's any one to go to bat for it#a young Rouse is very good as the wheeling grandiose wouldbe star reporter but it's old hand Colley that steers this play through
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Cmon Cheshire Cat, you can think far more than that
-alz
I really can't I am using all of my brainpower on this fic rn
#I did a total of like 8 assignments today#wrote a short story for english class n stuff.#The short story has more words in it than the fic currently#which is Not Good#I think I need to like#maybe do a different scene?#or change this one somehow?#I need to fix whatever is stopping me from writing#that thing might just b the crippling mental illness but shhh#fuck it we ball
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bath + asparagus time
#I did some cleaning and my day’s gotten slightly better#long story short I’ve had a fucking weekend lmfao#last Thursday I had a complete breakdown on my way home prompted by like the smallest comment u could think of#nevertheless it made me sob violently#like picture florence pugh in midsommar but more hysterical#on Friday I had a good day!! but it was fuckin busy man and I didn’t get around to#half of the stuff I needed to#Saturday was also busy and on the way home from work my car started SMOKING!!!! from under the hood#nothing was on fire but it freaked me the fuck out and I couldn’t get it to the mechanic until today so I had to find rides everywhere#and that was stressful#I only got like 3 or 4 hours of sleep Saturday night bc I had a (fun!!!) thing that went really late and then had to get up at 5 for work#on Sunday#so Sunday afternoon I got home and napped from 2-6pm and then just went to bed at 8 so I STILL didn’t get any shit done#and then this morning I opened again and I spent my sh#ift w people who are even newer at my job than I am so I was like training them/doing everything they couldn’t do yet and it was just#a weird day and my boss was acting weird and I didn’t like it at all#and then this afternoon I take my car to the mechanic FINALLY and he says the radiator’s busted and leaking coolant everywhere and also#one of the tires is fucked so we have to get them all replaced#and that’s gonna be several hundred dollars which is fine it’s all fine but I’m fucking tired#and when I got home there were still dishes to do😭😭😭#I need someone to baby me and clean my house#gawd#valkyrie talks
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At what point it stops being a job and becomes exploitment?
#witchy.txt#no bc i talked to my boss today telling her that this job aint for me and im not used to standing up for like 10 hours straight#i even mentioned i got a fever yesterday evening (which btw was definitely bc of stress)#and long story short she gave me like sixty (60) bucks. for 20 hours of work#like... i dont know what to feel. im glad she actually paid me but 3 euros per hour and in awful conditions? fuck off like holy shit#i was talking about this with a friend and she said that i dodged a bullet with that job and holy hell isnt she right#anyway maybe next time 🤷🏻#if theres one thing that i learned about myself with this experience is that i'm actually good at dealing with clients (if theyre nice)#so i could always try somewhere else. the job offerings are all the same in these parts so i'll find something else no problem#if they dont exploit their employees that is bc if thats the case im outta there
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"Prostitution is the world's oldest profession..." and "The "i" in lie" are great songs because they both talk about the same thing -- selling yourself out in the music industry-- from two different viewpoints
#essentially what i mean is that gabe is getting PAID to sell himself out by the very people that hate him for selling himself out#while patrick is cheating on the music he wants to make with the music that he knows will do well commercially#<- which btw is not what soul punk is. and honestly soul punk is the OPPOSITE of selling out#which i could make a whole post on but to sum it up soul punk is exactly what it sounds like. its full of soul and is a kind-off fuck you to#people who think pop music is easy to make/only needs a computer to do and not require an ACTUAL human to make the music itself#but in the i in lie patrick tells the story of a man cheating on his wife even though he KNOWS ITS WRONG AND FEELS GUILTY OVER IT#he knows selling himself out to the music industry is wrong. he doesnt like doing it and would much rather be making music he wants to make#but he keeps selling himself out because its the money and fame of it all. '...in the silent aftermath/butterflies subsiding but they can#never look back'#he keeps selling himself out to this industry because it feels good but only for a short while#and so he lies to fans and to himself that he wants this.#but for gabe he understands that the music industry is well an industry#and so to stay on the top you have do 'dirty' things#and that thing will be selling out#and he doesnt think its bad! he thinks its a revolution actually!#he thinks its the only way to 'humor the fools' who could be the people that consume the music (not the fans)#he literally states he doesnt care what people think of him for selling himself out and that the ones that are hating ARE THE ONES THAT ARE#PAYING FOR HIM TO SELL OUT#just. ugh. these two songs are doing something to me today
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i just started taking a strength training class at my gym in addition to my workout days since i'd like to try a powerlifting competition eventually. i'm killing it with the weights but please send thots and prayers to my core, she's going through it ehuehuehu
#iii. brb. ascending » ooc.#i made the mistake of doing barbell squats yesterday because today's class was almost exclusively leg and core based#the quads are screaming into the abyss with me#thank god i only have to do shoulders tomorrow i can drag myself to each machine lmao#i know that this will be so good for me in the long run but phew wed-fri i am gonna be one sore noodle lol#long story short. i am hereeeee for things. gonna make dinner but i'll be around
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my mullet is long enough in the back to tie it into a little pony tail 🥰
#not fandom related#personal log stardate#funny story ahead#i told my room mate that my hair is now long enough to tie it up and said that i unfortunately can't actually tie it up bc#i don't have a scrunchy. i used to have one (1) back from when i had an undercut and wore my hair in a bun but I've lost it#anyway then this week one of my coworkers was like wow your hair is long enough to make a pony tail and i laughed#and said I've noticed this as well and then i explained that i don't have a scrunchy#and they offered to get me one. and sure enough today they brought me a scrunchy#and funnily enough it looks exactly like the one i used to have#it's rather small/thin and dark blue. i think it's funny that i apparently gave off just the right vibe of how i am/what i like#that my coworker picked a scrunchy for me out of their collection that is just like one i used to have and used to like#also another coworker told me today that they rly like my haircut ✌#at the same time I'm also closed off enough that my coworkers think I'm doing well when i am in fact not#i guess I'm just good at hiding certain things/emotions etc#also. most importantly. when i tie up my hair i can cosplay kim bc from the front it looks like i have short hair in the back#and when i leave my hair unstyled i can cosplay harry bc i have a mullet. fuck yeah baby ❤
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So, to explain my little adventure I just got back from, it is necessary to set the scene by explaining a few things.
My dog is a Great Pyraneese. She weighs 90 Pounds. It is mostly muscle.
My neighbors a quarter mile down the road have chickens. They like to let them free range.
Now, this is not a problem at all, EXCEPT for the fact that whenever Tyr sees them something deep in her little livestock guardian breed brain goes "Oh, I am supposed to be Responsible for this Livestock." She will attempt to plonk her 90 pound furry ass down as far towards their yard as her leash will permit and want to sit there and simply stare at the chickens. She is not aggressive towards them, she simply wants to lie down and Keep An Eye On Things, the way a good livestock guardian dog is supposed to. It is the same reason she would love to fight the foxes that live under the falling down farmhouse down the street to the death and is very upset that I will not let her.
The PROBLEM is, well
3. My neighbors also have a miniature poodle. She is convinced, in every cell of her 15 pound body, that No Other Dogs Should Come Anywhere Near Her Fucking Yard. She has no concept that Tyr outweighs her by 75 pounds and is absolutely convinced that she could win this fight.
Normally if she's outside she is out in the fenced backyard and this isn't a problem. I also don't let Tyr wander into other yards, because it's rude to let your dog pee on the neighbor's grass unless they've said they're fine with it and also I live in Fuckass Nowhere. There's plenty of county owned grass on the roadside for Tyr to pee on. Still, even if I'm coaxing her along past the chickens, she will want to slow down and drift over to that side of the road to look at them.
TODAY, however, the mini poodle was NOT in the backyard. She was in the unfenced front yard, and as soon as we walked past she saw another dog not ON her yard, but heading TOWARDS her yard, and she hurled herself into battle with no thought for her own safety.
Now, Tyr is not aggressive towards other dogs. There is an exception to this, though, and it is 'unless an off leash dog comes running full speed in the general direction of one of Her People while snarling and barking'. If this happens, I suddenly have 90 pounds of Great Pyr ready for mortal combat on the end of the leash.
This brings us to item 4
4. I broke my left arm in April and while it is healing and good for light use now, 'Light Use' does not include 'restraining 90 pounds of furious livestock guardian dog convinced her person is about to be attacked by a reactive dog'
This means that I looped up the leash short and controlled her one armed. I did not think about this twice particularly. I know I can do it and just. Did it. I wouldn't walk her if I couldn't control her, after all. Once she figured out that no, the poodle was NOT going to attack me, she calmed down, but was still growling.
But I did this as a panicked neighbor dude came running out to try and get his dog, convinced that his kids were about to watch their beloved pet get turned into Great Pyr chow.
Oh and
5. I did this while wearing a Wonder Woman tshirt
So, long story short, his 4 year old daughter is convinced now that I actually AM Wonder Woman, because "She's Strong Like Wonder Woman!" and my neighbor learned that his poodle dug out from under the fence, how's everyone else's days going.
(All dogs unhurt)
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[ YOU SAY I’M STRONG (BUT YOU MAKE ME FEEL WEAK) — FT. KINICH ]
SYNOPSIS: kinich can’t quite put his finger on it, but he doesn’t like your new friend. you seem to put two and two together a little better than he does
WORD COUNT: 2.6k words — short n’ sweet like sabrina
INCLUDES: female reader ; mature 18+ content ; jealous/insecure kinich ; spoilers for his character stories ; references to his father’s abuse, gambling, and alcoholism and his mother’s departure ; unnecessary slander of a poor npc who did nothing wrong in canon lolll ; reader sits on his lap ; making out ; dry humping ; alludes to sex afterwards ; not proof read
Kinich knows he’s strong.
He’s gifted. Athleticism comes easily to him, he’s certainly skilled when it comes to wielding his vision, his claymore takes a good deal of talent to swing, and he’s never quite had trouble excelling in combat.
You say he’s strong, too—but not for the same reasons.
You’ve been through so much, you like to whisper.
You grew up so fast.
You’ve come so far.
For some reason, you like to measure strength differently. Kinich doesn’t always understand it—he doesn’t think he’s strong just for surviving the way you like to say. He thinks he’s resourceful, maybe. Perhaps even clever or quick-witted. Strong has never been something that’s come to mind when he thinks of the things he’s grown up around.
He was never strong enough to protect his mother. He couldn’t have saved his father if he’d tried. He never even stood up to the man when his father was alive—his only skill then was running.
Strength found him as he got older. When his weakness was tiresome and burdened him enough that he needed to find his way in this world, Kinich found strength.
He’s good at running. Picking up something as heavy as a great sword isn’t too hard for him. Learning how to dodge and throw a punch is easy enough. Dendro isn’t too complicated to master with enough practice.
Kinich is strong. He knows that, but today, he feels weak.
“Your eyes cross when you think too hard,” you murmur. He breaks from his thoughts at the sound of your voice, relaxing only slightly when that breathy giggle of yours tickles over the shell of his ear as you kiss his cheek and settle beside him. “Here, they’re fresh.”
Kinich likes quenepa berries. They’re easy to grow and rewarding to taste. They were his mother’s best crop, in fact. He lets his lips part as you push a few between his lips and grin.
“Thanks,” he mumbles.
Something is nagging in his mind still. Something that whispers one unsatisfactory word over and over and over in his head.
Weak. Weak. Weak. You’re weak. Incredibly weak. Pathetic and weak. You’ve always been weak.
You seem to notice it too— “You’re still thinking,” you point out gently.
Tell me about it, is what you mean. Talk to me.
“I’m not sure if it’s possible for someone to ever stop thinking,” he replies smartly. “Well…I guess unless that someone is you.”
“Hey,” you huff, snatching away your bowl from him as he reaches for a few more berries. He’s smug—the deftness of his fingers makes for an easy grab at a good handful before you can properly create distance between him and your bowl. “Take that back. Now!”
“It’s a bit empty up here sometimes, don’t you think?” He pokes at your forehead, chuckling at the curl of dissatisfaction on your lips.
“Well, it’s better than having someone like you think too hard. That’s a bit dangerous,” you grumble.
He laughs. Momentarily, the voices quiet. “My quick thinking has helped out a good once or twice,” he points out, popping a few more berries into his mouth.
Sweet. Juicy like he remembers. He hasn’t had berries quite like these since his mother’s departure.
“Alright,” you roll your eyes half-heartedly, “I get it. You don’t want to talk about it.” He’s silent at that—you’re right. He doesn’t want to talk about it. But perhaps more importantly, he doesn’t quite know how to. “You know you can tell me anything, though. Right?”
Kinich doesn’t know exactly when this started. He started with a good day. Exceptional, even. Somehow, it got lost along the way.
First, you woke him up with a kiss—(really, he was awake already, but sometimes he likes to pretend to be asleep so your lips do the honors of breaking him from his slumber. A minor inconvenience of laying perfectly still for the hefty reward of your lips). Later, he landed a commission with a decent profit of mora. It went by fast enough that he could swing back home to grab you for lunch.
And that’s when it starts to all go downhill.
“Of course I do,” he answers instantly.
“Then tell me,” you pout.
I don’t know how, he wants to say. Instead, he settles with: “You know him. The guy we ran into.”
It comes out a tad bit grumpy against his will. He doesn’t completely understand what it is that makes him feel so unsettled—Kinich knows that in a fight, that man is practically a house of cards if he is the wind. And he’s strong; he knows that as much as he knows you do, too.
He still can’t shake the feeling of being so weak.
“Oh,” you tilt your head, “yes, he moved from Toyac Springs! He’s very nice, I like to help him find his way around here sometimes.”
“He gave you a hug,” Kinich points out blandly.
“He did,” you nod slowly, “he’s friendly, you know?”
“Friendly.” He tests the word on his tongue. He doesn’t like how it tastes. Like a bitter, unripe quenepa berry that’s been harvested too early.
His father tended to do that. Impatient and unyielding to reason is how he remembers his father to be, snatching berries from the vines against his mother’s insistence before spitting them out with an angry grunt.
Absolutely worthless, he’d remember hearing an angry voice spit. You can’t even grow a few decent berries.
They’re just not ready yet, his mother’s voice would waver.
Weak, he remembers feeling. Unable to stand up to his father. Unable to take care of his mother.
Oddly, it’s how he feels with you right now.
“His name is Hakau,” you say carefully, “and we’re friendly sometimes. It’s nothing like that, though.”
“Like what?”
“Kinich,” you sigh, “is everything okay?”
Something in your voice tells him you know everything is definitely not okay. But you want to hear it from him. You want the words from his mouth directly.
He doesn’t know how to give that to you. He doesn’t even know half of what he’s feeling—just that there’s a heavyweight in his throat that tastes and feels like lead when he swallows.
“Everything is fine,” he mumbles. “I just haven’t ever seen him, that’s all. I was curious.”
“And…that’s it?”
“I suppose so.”
“I don’t…” you pause, biting your lip as you study him for a moment before shifting to crawl on his lap, straddling his hips before your hands cup his cheeks. “I don’t think you’re telling me everything.”
“I don’t know what to tell,” he finally admits.
“You don’t like Hakau?” You ask gently.
“He talks a bit much,” he shrugs. “And he laughs a lot.”
“He’s a bit energetic,” you agree, smiling a little at his confession. “I guess he’s not for everyone.”
“But he is for you?” He raises an eyebrow.
Your face softens as you lean in and press a small kiss to his nose as you whisper, “I think you’re for me. Does that count?”
“You’ve never mentioned him,” he adds, refusing to meet your eyes.
“He’s not really the most important development in my life,” you chuckle, “I only see him here and there.”
Kinich is strong. Physically, he knows that. When it comes to fighting a war and hunting a saurian, he’s adept. Beyond that, all he knows to do is stand on the side and watch people he loves exit his life. Because he’s never enough.
Weak. It’s what he feels when someone like Hakau is able to smile brightly and pull you into a hug right before his eyes. When was the last time he hugged you under witnessing eyes?
Never, he thinks. He touches you in the privacy of your home where no one is there to witness the fact that he loves you.
Weak. It’s what he realizes he is when your eyes are bright and excited to see a man whose expression mirrors the same show of joy. When was the last time his face expressed that much affection for you?
He can only assume there hasn’t been a moment—not when his cold expression and distant eyes have been something he’s heard about time and time again.
Kinich is too weak at building love. He doesn’t know how to be a son who’s enough to be better for, to give up gambling and a few sips of alcohol. He doesn’t know how to be a son who’s worth staying for, who’s the reason every obstacle is worth fighting through—even when it comes in the form of a drunken slap or a slurred yell.
He doesn’t know how to be a man worthy of your love, either. Not one who can come and greet you with something as simple as a hug. Not one who can display his affection on his face from nothing but a bright grin alone.
He’s too weak for that. His heart is a muscle he’s never strengthened. His limbs are too frail to support carrying your heart in his hands, too—he’s never been worthy of your affections.
At least, that’s what his mind has always told him. He knows you’d disagree, but that’s only because your eye is trained to see only the good. You don’t look at him to search for the reasons you shouldn’t stay.
Maybe Hakau could easily be a reason you should leave, though.
“He hugged you pretty tightly,” he grumbles one last time. It’s a bit petty—you’re sweet enough that you giggle and let it slide.
“I think I see the problem,” your grin widens, “I think you’re just a bit jealous, is that it?”
“Jealous of what? His awful haircut?” He rolls his eyes.
Yes, he thinks deep down. Yes, he’s jealous. He’s jealous of the way joy comes easy to Hakau and the way it seems to roll off of him in waves at the sight of you. How easy it must be for him to love you and love you strongly. Not some weak, sorry excuse of affection that Kinich offers you loosely gripped in his inadequate fist.
You’re kind, though. Patient and gentle as your hands cradle his cheeks and force him to meet your gaze.
“There are reasons for everything, you know,” you murmur.
“You’re saying there’s a reason his hair is so ridiculous?” He asks incredulously.
You laugh, airy and bright as you roll your eyes. “No, silly. There’s a reason why I love you and don’t love him.”
“Like what?” He asks, feigning a casual tone. Please tell me, he thinks desperately.
“Like when you pretend to sleep so I kiss you awake,” you tease, kissing his jaw.
He pauses. “How did you—”
“Or when you spend your earnings after a long commission to take me out to lunch.”
“Anyone could do that—”
“Or when you force Ajaw to fly me up a mountain because I’m too scared to climb.”
“Technically Ajaw does the work there—”
“Or when you share your pillow with me when I come hog it.”
He cracks a small smile at that, letting out a short laugh as he mumbles, “You do hog my pillow a lot.”
“I can’t list all the reasons I love you,” you whisper, kissing the corner of his mouth, “but I can’t come up with a single reason not to love you. I think that’s plenty.”
Kinich is strong. He’s able to support your weight when you lean into him more, settling most of your body onto his lap as you kiss him deeply. His fingers dig into your hips, guiding you closer as he groans into your mouth.
He loves you when you kiss him, and he loves you when he can feel your body nestled against his. It’s a strong, palpable feeling he can’t deny—and he’s starting to think you feel it from him when you smile into his lips as his hand cradles the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer.
“I could tell you a couple of great reasons you wouldn’t love that weird guy.”
“His name is—”
“He talks too much. He laughs annoying. And his hair is weird.”
You giggle, burying your head into neck as you huff, “Those are all shallow reasons.”
“Okay,” he hums thoughtfully, “He doesn’t know you like I do.”
His hips roll up, and your breath catches in your throat. There’s a noticeable, sizable bulge in his pants that you can feel press against your core. He grins when you falter over him, strong arms wrapping around you and keeping you in place as he presses his own kisses to your jaw while you shiver.
“If you know me so well,” you say petulantly, “You know I hate when you tease.”
“But I actually know you better than that,” he chuckles lowly, “I know you fall apart nicer when you’re pushed around a bit, don’t you?”
His lips are back on yours, mouth warm and hungry as his tongue invades your space. It’s a brief battle—he wins and explores the parts of you he already has memorized by heart. You whine against him, damp and aching between your legs as a familiar tension builds up.
Your hips roll over his clothed cock, your cunt dragging along the erection with enough pressure that both of you pause for a moment and shiver. It feels good—it’s not enough to qualify as what you need from him, but it’s never not good with Kinich. You feel the pressure of his hard-on rubbing against your clit, and your hips roll in sync to build the light tingles of pleasure as your mouths kiss each other in a sloppy, messy exchange.
“I hate your friend,” he declares breathlessly.
“Don’t be jealous,” you tease, giving your hips a languid thrust to press harder against his cock. He groans, head falling to your shoulder as his hands grab your hips and guide your to rub against him the way he wants.
His way. He’s strong enough that you can’t fight against the pace he sets for you—not that you want to, anyway.
“I’m not jealous,” he grumbles in between moans, “I just don’t like the way he looks at you. He looks stupid.”
“I didn’t notice,” you say breathlessly, “I was too busy looking at you.”
“Aren’t you sweet?” He snorts.
You grind down against his cock once. Twice. The third time, he meets your movements, and both of you still, tense for a moment as the coil snaps and your walls flutter around nothing while his tip leaks with ropes of thick, warm cum that spoil his pants.
“F-fuck,” you whine, “Kinich.”
“So…so perfect,” he grunts, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss.
It’s needy—the way the both of you move desperately to feel the friction just a tiny bit longer to ride out the waves of your orgasms. You can feel the twitch of his cock through his pants as it dampens from the mess of cum, and he can feel the quiver of your cunt as he spams around nothing.
It’s not enough, but somehow it’s more than perfect, too. Because he’s him. Because it’s you.
“You’re supposed to fuck me properly when you’re feeling possessive,” you mumble against his chest.
He lets out an amused breath as he answers, “Yeah? Was that your plan all along?”
Kinich is strong. He flips you over easily, hovering over you as he nips at your pulse point. He can feel the erratic pace of it through the skin, earning a smug grin that his lips press into your neck.
You love him pretty strongly, he concludes—poor Hakau always stood the weakest chance.
Hakau is a random npc in the scions of the canopy im sorry for all this drama brother. You seem like a good guy I just needed someone to be the loser here for the sake of plot
#writing tag#kinich x reader#kinich x you#kinich smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact smut#genshin x reader#genshin smut#genshin x you
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NIGHT OUT ⟡ HYUNG LINE
PREC𝓲S 。。 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗒 𝖽𝗎𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍
형라인 /⠀ female reader ── fluff + non idol au 。。 something sweet >< i love dad hyung line !! . . . more
YOU STOOD IN THE MIRROR, adjusting your top as heeseung lounged on the bed behind you. his eyes never once left you, a small smile tugging onto his face.
“so pretty..” he murmurs from behind, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. “where are you going looking this good?” heeseung places his chin onto your shoulder.
“just out with some friends for an hour or two, nothing too crazy.” you smiled, leaning into his warm embrace.
“mhm..” heeseung hummed, pressing a soft kiss onto your sensitive neck. “not for me? i don’t wanna let you go looking this good.”
you laugh softly, turning around to face him. your hands meet his chest. “you’ll be fine with her right? she’s been extra fussy today.”
heeseung nods, giving you a soft get reassuring smile. “i’ve got it covered princess don’t worry. you go have fun.” he gives you your purse, sliding in an extra hundred dollars for your night.
you kiss him quickly, gathering your things to leave. “i won’t be out too long hee..”
“i’ll be waiting.” he called out after you, his voice dropping soft as you walked out the door.
YOU WERE FINISHING UP your makeup in front of the mirror when jake walked into the room, leaning against the doorframe with a grin.
“wow.. you look stunning tonight. what’s the occasion again?” he teased, crossing the room to stand behind you, getting a better view of your short dress.
“remember it’s yunjin’s birthday.. she invited me out for drinks.” you replied, finishing your final touches of your makeup.
“ah i see.. sure you aren’t looking all dolled up for me?” jake laughed, his arms wrapping around your waist.
you placed your makeup brush down to face him, laughing softly. “could be.. don’t get too used to it— you’re on daddy duties tonight.”
“i’ve got this..” he says confidently, with his usual confident voice. “but what if it’s a blowout..? jake looks at you nervously, known for running away anytime there was a blowout situation.
“you’re on your own.” you smile, giving him a quick kiss before you grab your purse. “make sure she’s not up late watching cartoons.. i know you and her like the dancing fruit a little too much.”
“don’t worry mamas, she’ll be asleep.. however, i’ll be awake waiting for you.” jake chuckled, sitting down as he watched you leave.
AS YOU SLIPPED INTO YOUR DRESS jay watched you from the doorway. “looking like you’re about to break some hearts tonight..” he teased, a playful smirk on his face as he sat on the bed.
you turned to him, rolling your eyes playfully. “just a small night out, nothing too serious.”
jay sat up from the bed, walking over to you and placing his hands on your hips. his eyes wandered all over your silky dress, admiring every angle and curve. “if so ‘small’ why do you look this good? i may not survive tonight without you.”
you laughed softly as you placed your golden watch onto your wrist. “ i’m sure you’ll survive tonight, it’s only a few hours without me.”
“survive, yeah, but i’ll miss you.” he says, pulling you closer. “you left me in charge of bedtime so wish me luck.”
“you got this, honey.” you give jay an encouraging smile. “she was a handful today but she’ll listen to her daddy.”
jay sighs dramatically, though there was a grin plastered across his face. “i’ll read her a story .. maybe sing her a song. think that’ll work?”
you looked at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement. “sing huh?.. it may work.”
you give jay a final kiss before leaving. “i’ll be back in a few hours.” you kiss his lips softly, his lips collecting some of your lipgloss. “i’ll be waiting.. don’t make me wait too long, honey.” jay chuckles lightly, scrolling through the television for a show to watch.
YOU WERE SLIPPING ON YOUR HEELS when sunghoon walked into the room, his hands tucked into his pockets as he leaned against the closed closet, watching you quietly.
“you look amazing.” sunghoon says, admiring every piece of your outfit from head to toe. “almost too amazing for a night out.”
you smirk, standing up to smooth out any wrinkles in your dress. “just a casual night..”
sunghoon walks over, his hands reaching for your hips, his fingers padding onto your delicate skin. “well if you’re trying to impress someone tonight, it’s working.”
you laughed, leaning into his touch slightly. “impressing you wasn’t on my plans tonight..but if it works then i’ll take it.”
sunghoon’s lips quirked into a smile, he then pressed a gentle kiss to your head. “i’m in charge of bedtime tonight huh?”
you nod your head. “yes, can you handle it?” sunghoon looks at you, more confident than he’s ever been. “i believe i can.. a few stories will instantly put her to sleep.”
you smile. “good, just don’t stay up too late okay? you heard him giggle quietly amongst himself “you better not stay out late either.”
you grab your purse and make sure you have all your belongings. “i’ll be back before you miss me.” you opened the front door, the cool night breeze hitting your body.
“i already miss you.” sunghoon mutters as he watches you leave, prepared for a night with his little girl.
💌 : posting this before i go to sleep >< goodnight !!
#🎐 ── 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑦 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙’𝑠 𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐷# ✦﹐ on queued 🪽#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen hyung line x reader#enhypen hyung line#hyung line#enhypen fluff#enhypen sfw#enha#enhypen x female reader#enha x female reader#enha x y/n#enha x you#enhypen heeseung#enhypen jake#enhypen jay#enhypen sunghoon#lee heeseung x reader#sim jake x reader#jay x reader#sunghoon x reader#lee heeseung x female reader#sim jaeyun x female reader#park jongseong x female reader#park sunghoon x female reader#lee heeseung#enhypen x y/n#jaeyun enhypen#park jongseong x reader
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── desperation. ( psh ) 📠
pair: boss!sunghoon ㅊ employee!f!reader | warnings: smut, secret relationship, age gap (sunghoon is 10 years older), semi-public s.x (?), hoon is a needy boi, coercion, quickies, dirty talk, piv, no lube, no protection (don’t be like them!) | words: 1.4k
imagine boss!sunghoon being so needy n desperate for you at all times, he just can’t seem to keep his hands off you.. just needs to cop a feel whenever he can bc he’s that obsessed w you ;( he’s also willing to skip important business meetings just so he can bring you into his office when no one’s around and have you bent over his desk— loving the way your curves hug the work uniform in all the right places..
this is my very first ever post on enhablr !
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
“please?” sunghoon’s desperation grew as time went on, nothing but lust clouding his judgement. he had you pushed up against his desk, caging his arms around the slope of your waist, hindering you from any retaliation, utterly defenseless in his hold.
“i promise i’ll be super quick..!” he pleads even more, pressing wet kisses all over your face, his pouty lips still lingering along the rim of your jaw afterwards. “just need you, so so sooo bad.”
sunghoon has been “negotiating” with you for the past ten-ish or so minutes, playing every trick in the book he possibly can in getting you to fold like a sunday lawn chair for him. what may have prompted all this you wonder ? well, he simply got hard at the sight of you and now you’re the one in ‘trouble’ because he can’t function while being bricked up at work. you two had an odd relationship to say the least… he was your boss, the man you reported to every day and pick up his morning coffee before he arrives at 8 AM sharp, but you also sleep with him sometimes?? (you thought it would be just a one off occurrence but sunghoon wanted it to be a more frequent, fwb type of deal..)
you were seriously hoping that he’d leave you alone today, you had a lot of work that needed to get done within a short timeframe and distractions weren’t going to do you any good, however, you couldn’t just say no to park sunghoon. there were dozens of other women who’d kill to be in your position, they already tried to seduce him one, two many times before— except you of course. you were like the golden employee who always followed orders, listened to directions the first time, and did everything the right way, he’s never really had to reprimand you and even on the rare chances you do mess up, he’d handle it with you in private; just like how he’s doing now.
hell, sunghoon makes it excruciatingly hard to resist him. especially when his breath inched beneath your ear, silky strands of jet black hair tickling your chin as he begs for your touch.
“i told you i was busy— hoon, s-stopp !” you helplessly whine, your mind kept telling you to refuse but your body was saying a completely different story. he knew exactly where to pull the pin, knew just how to make you give in to his not-so-safe-for-work desires.
“oh are we now ?, too busy for me ? what happened to wanting to get that new promotion, huh ?” he cocks his head to the side, turning arrogant all of a sudden now that he can use something as leverage over you. it’s a shame that he has to stoop to such low levels but he’s willing to try whatever method that’ll get him exactly what he wants.
as he whispers in further detail all the naughty things he wants to do to you, your legs were brought to a tight close, wanting nothing more than to relieve the ache you felt between your plush thighs; you feel dirty, disgusting for wanting your boss to fuck your brains out, it’s unprofessional, you shouldn’t be doing this— letting him have access to you whenever he wants almost felt dehumanizing.
though, you be lying if you said he didn't strike a bone in your body, maybe 3, or 4.. 10 at most. hell, maybe even all of them. some days you were able to keep your cool and act as though he had zero effect on you— however, he was just so unable to resist at times. you couldn’t help but be attracted to him; even if he was an asshole sometimes, you secretly liked it in a sick, twisted kind of way. if he was going to play this little game then you may as well play right along, plus you weren't gonna just walk around with soggy panties without getting something in return, right ? right.
“oh ? giving in already, guess you really do want it that bad, huh ?” he smirked childishly as you finally cave in, rubbing up against him, spreading and burying his knee between your thighs.
“shut up, do you wanna? or not ?” so over his annoying little antics, you gradually wiggled your hips against his toned, muscular thighs.
“it’s cute when you act all needy for me.” his hands caressed your waist, taking your leg to his hip, in effect your pencil skirt riding up your thigh.
you felt his clothed dick against your core as he pressed his body against you. sloppily taking your tongue against his.
you've always wondered how this man could get you so hot and sweaty all over a few words. then again, as long as you’re pleased; does it really matter ?
“fuck..” you spoke, hand grabbing at his tie, the melody of his luxury belt being unwrathed gave you a tsunami of chills. “quickly, i have a meeting in..” you checked you wrist, reading the analog watch that sat delicately along your veins. “15.” you heaved heavily, he tugged down your tights physically prepping himself with his hand.
“thats enough time to make me bust twice.” he chuckled. his length entered your puffy, dewy pussy.
“quick busser !” you laughed, knowing it'd strike a chord within whenever you tease him.
taking your ass in his hands before he paces himself. “you love when my dick coats your pussy in a thick coat. so, suck it.” he groaned, kissing onto your collarbone to keep himself quiet.
his office wasn't what people would call sound proof, but at a good distance from the door, nobody could be able to hear you. but keeping you quiet would deem to be the most difficult part.
sunghoon bear hugged you keeping you tight against him, he thought fucking you in your work attire, especially your tights, had to be the sexiest shit to dance on this earth. it's honestly why he's here. the way the thin black fabric wrapped around your thighs, he could just picture your sloppy pussy, wrapping around him. balls deep. and you took him so. so. so. well.
“ugh, yesyesyes..” your ragged breathing swam through his ears, giving him an ounce more of stamina. “shit !” your clit throbbed at his lower abdomens slight back to back friction, you grind up onto him, to feel more of that reminiscing release edging you.
he nibbled at your lips before taking them against his. “shut the fuck up. you dont— hell..wanna get caught do you ?” he swatted your thigh, thrusting himself at a slower, but rougher notion.
“fe—feel so good, nggh.. hoon..” you whispered, biting at his ear.
your forehead glistened with sweat, the buttons of your shirt leaving your perky breasts opposed and exposed. you threw your head back at the pulsating between the two of you, you could feel him. throbbing, and hardening inside of you, and it turned you way the fuck on. just as your pussy throbbed against his hard.
“c'mon mama.. you wanna drench your boss’s cock? huh ?.. wanna make it all gooey with your cum ?” he pushed you closer and closer with his words, as if him ramming into you wasn't enough.
“yes.. wan' make it gooey, baby !” you whispered under your breath. throwing your head back, leaving your boobs to bounce under the escaping light of his blinds.
“then cum, be a good girl..” sunghoon’s breath quickened, he was near the edge himself, if not on it.
the two of you, moaning into each other's lusty mouths, aching for more. your groans becoming quickened and hoarse as the burning knot in your stomach leaves you in discomfort. until a strong stroke came to pop that growing bubble inside you, releasing you of all your numbness. you came onto his thickness.
sunghoon, lost it at the feel of you tightening around him, lays you down onto the desk, pushing down on your stomach. he could feel himself through passing through your entrance. just thinking about it, left him blissful.
“fuck, fuck ! 's fuckin' right, squeeze me baby..” he finally broke, leaving all his pellent inside of you, slowly pumping himself a few more times before sliding out. his figure, breathing heavily, leaning onto your heaving chest.
you could hear him chuckling after awhile of comfortable silence. “looks like you're gonna be late for your meeting miss. y/n.”
“you so owe me.” you glare up at him as if this was all his fault.
“i do ?” he kissed your tummy.
“yeah, you do actually.”
“and what may that be?” he raises his brow, pushing up his thin framed glasses.
“a real date.”
“can i take you back to my place after ?” he kissed your tummy through your shirt once more.
“deal.” you grinned, catching your breath.
you were a dirty mess. a mess that sunghoon, had absolutely no problem with cleaning up.
#enhypen smut#sunghoon smut#sunghoon scenarios#enhypen scenarios#enhypen drabbles#sunghoon drabbles#sunghoon x reader#enhypen x reader
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🪓 — Canon Facts About Ticci Toby
all of these are directly stated by kastoway himself in deviantart posts/comments, instagram stories, or tobys canon story
I. Toby has a split eyebrow from the car crash
II. He only attended grade school for a short time when we was 12 before being homeschooled due to bullying
III. Kastoway describes Toby's eye colour as "dark brown/black"
IV. Kastoway created Toby as a fan character when he was 12 just for fun. He never expected him to get the attention that he did
V. Toby was stated to be 19 in 2013, which means Toby was born on April 28th, 1994. Today he'll be turning 30 years old
VI. In Toby's age chart, he is shown to be in a straitjacket at 30 years old, and described to "not have much time left on his plate", "any bit of sanity in him is probably gone", and "lives out the rest of his days in a mental asylum and/or gets put down"
VII. He has little to no memory of his life before becoming a proxy
VIII. When he was a toddler, he'd carry around a cow stuffie and put bandaids all over it
IX. Toby was killed by Clockwork, who was possessed by Zalgo, sometime between ages 19-25 (presumably 20-22). Kastoway had vague plans for Toby to "miraculously survive" and live up until around 30 years old, with no contact to the others
X. Toby chews his hands to the point of eating his own flesh, which is why he wears gloves
XI. He is born and raised in Denver, Colorado, USA. He has German ancestry
XII. His theme song is noted to be "I'm Not Alright" by Shinedown
XIII. His personality is described to be, "volatile, friendly at times, sarcastic at times, natural born trouble-maker, mostly up-beat"
XIV. In an older, outdated reference sheet, his friends are listed as "Jeff The Killer, BEN, BOB, Smile Dog, Slenderman, Splendorman, Mr. Widemouth, Ragface, Eyeless Jack", and his rivals are listed as "The Rake, Masky, Enderman, Zalgo"
XV. His mask is a mouth guard, like the one Hannibal Lecter wears
XVI. He is canonically shipped with Clockwork
XVII. Toby has "big ass eyebrows" (Kastoways words himself)
XVIII. Toby doesn't hate Masky, he just acts like an annoying little brother around him because he's jealous that Slender favours him. He's chill around Hoodie, but they don't talk much
XIX. Kastoway was inspired by Marble Hornets to create Ticci Toby
XX. Toby's tics are described as to "uncontrollably crack his neck, twitch around, bend over backwards"
XXI. In his updated appearance (the sketch made by Kastoway in 2014 with the cheek gash), he's described to be in his early 20s. He also said he was thinking of having the cheek gash be caused by the fire, but said that Toby eating through his own cheek was "a really good idea"
XXII. Toby was originally going to be a cannibal before Kastoway put the idea on the back burner, though he says "he'll eat some of the things he kills kind of like Eyeless Jack"
XXIII. He had CIPA, Tourettes, Schizophrenia and PTSD after the car crash
XXIV. His older sisters name is Lyra, his mothers name is Connie, and his father is canonically unnamed (though he's typically called Frank by the fandom, this is not stated by Kastoway)
XXV. He was originally going to be 5'4....... But ended up being made 5'6 (lucky bastard)
Thats all I can think of right now... Happy Birthday Toby
#tombtalk#creepypasta#creepypasta fandom#ticci toby#creepypasta headcanon#ticci toby headcanons#toby rogers#creepypasta ticci toby#ticci toby creepypasta#ticcitoby#ticci toby facts
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