#he does this a lot. one time he brought his pet chicken in. one time he spent 15 minutes talking about how hats make people

[nightdncer]

“ how is this gonna help me ? ”

✦ pairing : hiromi higuruma x fem!reader

✦ warnings : smut, fem!reader, blowjob {character!r + reader!g}, teasing, pet names, cusses , minors + ageless blogs dni

✦ A/N : dw chat I won’t change the kink!tober schedule >_< ~ {mizu5 broke my heart, it’s mizuover.}

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦

you’ve been hiromi’s assistant for a while now. about two to three years now. and with him, he obviously gave you hard cases to help him with. not to mention, how attractive he was. you weren’t able to take your eyes off of him, sometimes him catching you staring at him.

you really thought he would care, but he didn’t seemed to mind. in fact, he actually seemed to enjoy it. maybe he does stare at you too in the same, small crush, like way without you noticing.

you weren’t oblivious, not one bit. but when it comes to him you were. people say you’re able to sense when someone’s watching you, but you could never with him. maybe he wasn’t? perhaps you were just being delusional.

to him though?

you weren’t.

you were absolutely correct.

he was taking quick glances at you each chances he would get, and watch you when your senses were at its lowest. he was just observant. he was quickly able to tell when your senses were low and when he was free from some people hovering over him and talking.

in fact, he did have a small crush on you like you do to him. you didn’t know, but he knew. he knew you did, he’s caught you so many times staring at him. he could tell you had a small crush on him. perhaps big? who knew.

but you should be ashamed of the position you’re in right now, under your bosses desk, giving hike the best head he’d ever had. not like he never had it, he had handjobs back in high schools, but never had a blowjob. yet, it felt so relaxing to him, like he’s getting a break from the outside world.

he couldn’t help but let out slight groans and very quiet moans. this guy groaned a lot. he barely ever moaned. I mean, you thought of it. something in your mind just brought up him groaning more than letting out pathetic little moans.

you looks up at him with big, puppy eyes, the most innocent eyes if you were in court and you were supposed to be guilty, the verdict would be absolutely the opposite with the way you’re looking up at him, acting like you’re not sucking him off.

how did you even get into this situation? sucking your boss off, you two weren’t even married, not even dating. yet.

you could see him scribbling stuff on the paper, his hand writing obviously being sloppy and like chicken scratches due to his hand shaking so much from the pleasure.

it was too much for this poor man to handle. it was surprising. he was as hard as a shell to break through to his soft spot. he never let his guard down, his lowest senses was still higher than mosts. yet, he felt comfortable with you enough to let his absolute lowest senses, him relaxing. you were actually able to get to his soft and submissive side.

too much for this man to handle, his eyes were glistening from the pleasure, tears of pleasure. he blinked to dry them, yet all it did was roll down his pink and puffy cheeks.

“fuck..” he mumbles, wiping off his face. you slid his length out of your mouth and giggle softly, “aw.. Mr. Lawyer Man so sub-” before you could even finish your sentence, he gabbed a chunk of your hair and forces your head back down to shut you up.

his cheeks were getting warmer, and the soft pink blush getting bigger due to you trying to tease him. he was a very tease-able guy, especially when he’s finally submissive and not the strict man he usually is.

this poor old man couldn’t help but to scribble on his paper. he wasn’t even writing, he was just scribbling. up, down, left, right, everywhere on a case file. once he let go of your hair, you pulled back.

“isn’t that the case file, hiro??” you softly say, using his nickname just to tease him.

he softly ruffled your hair, then letting out a long sigh. “I.. I don’t even care anymore.” he mumbled out. usually, he was quiet but also a loud guy to prove his point, yet his voice almost seemed muffled with you. maybe you really got into his softest side.

you roll your eyes teasingly, and went back to what you were doing.

“h- how is this gonna help me?..” he mumbled, putting a hand through his soft hair. you thought his hair was spiky at first, but it wasn’t. okay, maybe it slightly was. He did use gel, making his hair hard, yet it was also very soft.

he messingly putting away the papers, knowing of he continues scribbling he and you would get confused, with the messy writing and on the side the little scribbles.

you could tell he was near his limits, his legs twitching every now and then.

and just before you knew it, he did let out a load into your mouth. after all, he’s thirty-six. he’s had handjobs with some girls during a party he was obviously forced to go to. of course, the loads would just be there, untouched whatsoever.

and now, it’s in your mouth. you slurped and lick your tongue all around his tip.

“f- fuck, don’t, don’t..” he warned, yet with his soft whiny voice you didn’t stop until he grabbed your hair and tugged your head back. “never listen, do ya..?” he said, in a slight teasing tone.

you knew what you were getting into, knowing your soft side would be showing now.

[naamahdarling]

Hi. I’m feeling sad too, I think that tends to happen late at night. At least we can be sad together lol

Yeah it's just a 3:00 thing. Literally I call it the "three o'clocksies". One of the best mental health things I've ever done for myself is learning to look at the time, and if it's after 3:00 a.m., I just tell myself I will put those feelings away until the next day, and I can feel them then if I have to. It doesn't work every time, but it works about 70% of the time, which is a lot better than the maybe 15 or 20% of the time I managed to deal with it by just powering through. Big fan.

Learning to approach strong negative emotions not arising directly from a currently unfolding crisis as temporary, and strong positive emotions as gifts and memories that I will get to have later has been really helpful. "All things pass" can be barbed, because that means good stuff too will pass. But that's just the nature of things, and we have a lot more control over what memories and feelings we keep with us than we think we do.

That is part of why I try so hard to find goodness when badness is around me. Because it really does make bad things easier to bear. I don't mean like spinning bad things into good things, or saying that bad things happen for a reason, I just mean things like moments of common kindness between strangers (which are actually a thing we can create ourselves instead of waiting to have happen to us or to observe), or a beautiful sunset the day you break your ankle, or the very very small child in the corner at urgent care who won't stop talking very articulately and at great length about how much he fuckin' loves chicken nuggets, or the person who took one look at me and didn't charge me anything at the gas station the night we lost Raleigh, no questions asked.

These moments aren't actually insignificant. They're the fabric of our lives, and by observing them even in the bad moments, we prepare ourselves to see them the rest of the time, it makes things easier. It's like putting flowers in a hospital room inside your mind. I may feel like dying, but somebody brought a miniature goat named Tom Brady to PetSmart with them and I got to pet him.

I'm not full of shit here, I have really been through it this past year. It really is worth it to struggle to look and see ordinary life around you as full of small surprises and little kindnesses. It isn't about some kind of bullshit healing through positivity thing (I think "positivity" as it is pushed at us is toxic bullshit) it's not going to cure your mental illness or whatever, it isn't going to take you out of the terrible circumstances fucking you over, it isn't going to undo your trauma, it's just seeing all the small good things that are easy to overlook, and realizing that some days, seeing the small good things really can be enough. That isn't pathetic or bleak, that isn't trying to fill your belly with nothing but crumbs and telling yourself you're lucky, it's just an underlying kind of warmth that it would be really unfortunate to not look for and allow yourself to feel.

It's a way of inhabiting life deliberately, and not just suffering through it. And it's taking me years to develop, and no, I can't always hold on to it, it isn't something that you can be successful at 100% of the time. But man, things got a lot better for me when I started taking pictures of the sky almost every time I go outside, and admiring strangers' questionable fashion choices, and wondering about things like what kind of person would buy this puzzle featuring a John Deere tractor, and enjoying small brown birds having a dust bath next to the drive-thru at Sonic, or taking pictures of interesting graffiti, or noticing the single mirror-spangled drag queen platform high heel on the side of the road, all of that. Things got better for me when I started to really care that I got to see those things.

IDK this got long. But I think...it's all right to be sad, I think sometimes we just have to be even when we aren't sure why. And that can and should coexist with the rest of the world being out there and ready to be seen, even through tears.

[mezzy-1]

A Bunch of WHOLESOME Valorant Headcanons

Damn I shoulda posted these a week ago but here goes. Also thank you to @eviethelesbian for coming up with the prompt. Gotta give credit yknow.

Neon

Is always challenging people to race her or beat her in some way.  Competitive as hell but just likes the thrill of it

Misses her old home, but brought a lot of her mementos along and has a story behind every one of them in her room

She’s worried about her powers acting up, but Sage and Reyna helping her out has given her a little more confidence.  She’s grateful to both of them

Sleeps like a rock after a hard day, to the point where it's usually impossible to wake her and not get shocked in the process

Has big sister energy with most of the other young agents and lightly teases them if they lose to her.  Always lets people rechallenge her and may or may not let them win 

Complete menace to the fridge because of the calories she burns running so fast, but shares the food she preps.  

Gets excited when she meets dogs and will absolutely lose her mind if someone lets her pet their dog

Brimstone

Despite being the leader and ex-military he’s not really harsh on any of the younger agents

They still hate him for the PT he makes them do, especially because he knows how to bring out the best of them.  

Usually it's reminding them about not letting someone close to them down, but other times it’s about proving themself

A lot of personal records have been set thanks to Brimstone, but the aches and pains from intense exercise are the price of hard work

He is always there for agents when they have self doubt or regret.  A hand on their shoulder, giving them some time to themselves, or a quick story from his ‘younger days’ that manages to provide some guidance

Him and KAYO sometimes take a few extra minutes after a briefing to go over ‘potential strategies’ or ‘advanced tactics’ but everyone knows it's for them to talk about something pleasant before getting back to work.  

When agents return from a successful mission and are unharmed, the look on his face is of pure relief

Killjoy

A lot of her ideas come from something someone says or suggests, she’s always listening to people intently because of this

The chicken design on the turret was in reference to a chicken she kept after her school did one of those agriculture/biology programs.  She named it ‘Gelbie’ and the turret shares the name.

She may build her gadgets, but she prefers to have people weigh in on the colors (hence Raze helping her out a lot).  She lets people pick out some of the colors of things

She’s the tech support for a lot of people and likes using it as an excuse to get to know people.  Also has left notes for people who don’t understand tech as well, signed with little doodles 

Can and will outdrink other agents, and loves dragging people to go clubbing.  If whoever she brings isn’t the most social, she’ll keep close if they need it and encourage them to try dancing with someone

Huge nerd for everything and somehow part of every fandom.  Will definitely rewatch or replay things with fellow agents.  Enjoys talking about the nerdiest stuff with anyone 

While working for Kingdom, she’d hack the coffee machines and vending machines to spit out free drinks for her favorite coworkers.

Absolutely loves her jacket, and it was a gift from one of her friends back in Germany and she does her best to keep it in the best condition she can, despite the firefights

If an agent is a little shaken from the last fight, she’ll lay her jacket on them if they need it or if they’re sleeping.  She sees it as extending a bit of good luck.

Blushed a lot when Raze joined the VP and stayed up late to help her with any kind of work.  She’d make excuses for it too and try to avoid letting people see how red her face was.  It made it even more obvious

Deadlock

Didn’t realize how serious she seemed at first and used to scare some of the younger agents, much to the amusement of Viper.  Apologized a lot after she realized it

Has moments where she drops her formality and everyone kinda stops what they’re doing.  When she isn’t restraining herself to monotone or quiet it’s really noticeable

Nobody knew she could laugh at first but it came out once.  It’s one of those really loud and tearful ones that she can barely breathe through.  Borderline snorting laugh

On occasion she’ll tell people how they remind her of her ‘sisters’ 

Will sit in with the other agents while they watch dramas and whatever else, despite her obvious confusion.  

Is blunt, but tells people what they need to hear to get things done.  Never leaves any room for miscommunication or anxiety at all

Understanding and observant with the other agents, and is often able to bring an element of calm to tense situations

Kept the tags of her Staljaeger unit and has them in a locked box in her room, along with a group photo

Enjoys doing her weapon maintenance because she can sort of lose herself in the work, but doesn’t mind doing it with others

Wears a ton of sweaters, like absolutely lives in those ultra-comfortable ones that are constantly warm

Gekko (+ Wingman)

Wingman will grab people’s hands and try to lead them to things.  It’s always the fridge cause he isn’t tall enough to reach the handles

Wingy will bring things to his favorite people, and most of the time its things from Chamber’s room cause of how shiny they are

Neon loves that Wingman steals from Chamber and lets him into Chamber’s room for the hell of it

If asked to grab things by anyone other than Gekko, he brings the wrong item most of the time.  Cypher once asked for a soldering iron and Wingman brought back a minifridge that let cans and food everywhere

Dizzy passively floats in Gekko’s room like a helium balloon and is usually found on the ceiling.  All curled up and sleeping like a cat.

Thrash will follow a laser pointer around and yes there’s a video of it 

Gekko may not have a lot of battlefield experience but he’s always ready to charge in to save someone.  

He also gets along great with everyone by keeping things light and throwing compliments around.  Phoenix and him brighten up a room, and behave like brothers

Loves having dinner with the protocol, it feels like the dinners his familia would have 

Will attempt to do challenges from the internet with other agents.  Most of the duelists are usually game but getting Brimstone to try something makes his day

Discussed working with the protocol with his mom before leaving, and sends her little postcards from the places he’s visited.  The radivores sign them with paw prints

Will help people dye their hair no questions asked and knows all the places to get tattoos and dye in LA.  Loves showing his home to the agents.

Loves getting together with people and hitting up food trucks, doesn’t matter what kind of food either

Protocol Wide Headcanon

One time someone (Neon or Jett take ur pick) put a Jalapeno in someone’s (Harbor’s) food as a prank.  When he ate it no problem, that’s when some other agents chimed in saying that Jalapenos aren’t spicy.

This began a debate as to what is and isn’t considered spicy, and to test their theories more chiles, peppers, and habaneros were eaten.

This led to almost the entire protocol having a contest to see who could eat the spiciest food.  A lot of people were either trying to prove a point or show how tough they were

It got so heated that Brimstone stepped in, and decided to make a point as to who knows spicy food the best

He made a chili the next night that had people turning red, downing milk and chewing ice, and generally rolling around in pain

Undiluted spice hell

Brim said he used a family recipe and that nobody would ever be able to handle the chili his grandpa came up with

Viper had poured straight capsaicin into the chili the night before, she just wanted to stop the contest and since capsaicin is a neurotoxin she had a ton of it lying around

Brim still thinks it was his cooking

Now from time to time, small contests of spice tolerance break out over dinner but not enough to get the attention of the higher ups, fear of the chili haunts them

[astaldis]

May I proudly present -

My Witcher Monster MAYhem Masterlist:

Geraskier fic:

A Lesson in Prudence

"Jaskier, don't open the ...!" Geralt shouts, but it is already too late. The cast iron padlock still in his hands, Jaskier's eyes grow wide as the heavy wooden lid rises an inch by itself. Then, many tiny fingers sneak through the gap. The lid lifts several more inches into the air ...

Jaskier spends some time at Kaer Morhen. Being his usual curious self, of course, he gets into trouble and Geralt has to save his bard. (words: 854) (Jaskier Angst)

Prompts: Day 1 "Don't open the ...", Day 3 "Tiny monsters", "Pointy Teeth" and Day 7 "Isn't it cute?"

Kaer Morhen Witcher fic:

Die, Monster, Die

"Die, you mother-fucking monster! Will you finally die?" Lambert roars, yet the monster seems to have other plans. For the umpteenth time it reassembles its scattered fragments and attacks again. Damn!

While the "Girls" are not at home, the Witchers are attacked by a very strange monster, one they have never encountered, heard of or read of before. A monster that stubbornly refuses to die. (words: 1,623) (Lambert Whump, Friendship)

Prompt: Day 6 "Die, Monster, Die"

Cahir/Gallatin fic:

Yet Another Save

Finally spring has come and Gallatin is out hunting. Alone. Not a good idea in these times of contempt ... (words: 2,689) (Gallatin Whump, Friendship)

Prompt: Day 3 "Necrophage"

Hansa fics:

Smelly Goo Loves Company (or: Lucky that the bard brought plenty of soap)

While collecting firewood, Angoulême has an encounter with a creature that could easily have gone wrong. Fortunately, she is not alone. (words: 847) (Adventure, Friendship)

Prompts: Day 1 "Paralysed", Day 2 "Run!", Day 5 "Swamp Monster" 

Something In The Water:

It is spring and Milva wants to have a bath. Yet, something goes terribly wrong. Lucky that she has her Hanza, and especially one Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy. (words: 1,875) (Milva Whump, Friendship)

Prompts: Day 2 "Bulging Eyes", Day 3 "Necrophage", Day 5 "Fuck, there's another one" and Day 6 "Surrounded"

Not A Good Place To Stay The Night ...

Forced off the main road south by advancing Nilfgaardian troops, Geralt and his weird company find themselves inside a dark, eerie forest, and night is falling soon. (words: 5,530) (Cahir Whump, Friendship)

Warning: Better do not read if you are afraid of spiders!

Prompts: Day 1 "Paralysed", Day 2 "Vampire", Day 4 "Hairy Legs" & Picture prompt, Day 5 "Too Many Limbs", Day 7 "Creepy Crawlies", Alt. "Bat out of Hell"

What would you do if ...?

One day in the fairytale Duchy of Toussaint, while Anarietta and Fringilla have to attend the bachelorette party of a relative, all the members of Geralt's Hansa are spending a rare evening together in the kitchen of Beauclair Castle, playing games and having fun. Well, at least some of them are having fun. (words: 666) (crackfic)

Alt. prompt: "Flying Spaghetti Monster"

This Is Not A Chicken Egg!

On their travels through Riverdell, Jaskier finds a strange egg. It is just about to hatch, but what the hell is it? And what the fuck does it have to do with Emhyr var Emreis? (words: 1,356) (crackfic, Pikachu/Emhyr mentioned)

Prompts: Day 3 "Tiny Monsters" and Day 7 "Isn't it cute?"

Pikachu/Emhyr fics:

Electrical Attraction

Emhyr's sexuality is a very secret secret that not even Dijkstra has been able to uncover. Maybe it is better for the spy master's mental health that he hasn't. Caution: Mental health hazard. Uncover Emhyr's most secret secret at your own risk. (words: 100) (crackfic)

Prompt: Day 2 "My Beloved Monster"

A Weighty Decision

Ciri and Emhyr have to make a weighty decision that might forever change the fate of the Empire. For the better or worse? Who knows ... (words: 600) (crackfic)

Prompt: Day 7 (lyrics) "Cheerful, cheerful/Furry, happy monsters feeling glad"

Witcher Geralt fic:

A Pet For The Witcher

Geralt happens upon an old acquaintance of his who is doing something he does not like - at all. He does, however, like a lot what comes of this unexpected reunion.

Prompt: Day 4 "Were-"

[destiny-in-the-universe]

Any Fowlham or just Theresa headcanons? Very interesting to know :-)

HIII, so to start- thank you for the ask! I'm actually going to write this as a special treat because honestly these two are worming their way into my heart and without much further ado, here's your headcanons!

Theresa Fowler Headcanons

Apart from baton twirling, Theresa has a couple other hobbies: one was mentioned in a previous ask which is space/constellations! It felt fitting for her character; the second I want to say is one of the following (poetry, flowers, or music)

Theresa has siblings! I'm not sure who they'd be if I'm being honest- I want to say one of them could be one of the background characters from Norrisville High, but I feel Theresa is the youngest!

She loves animals- all of them. She has a few pets including chickens because I thought that would be cute. Theresa just seems the type of gal to live in a spacious environment and knows how to take care of herself

In honor of pride month, I have the following headcanons! I feel Theresa is bi (or she doesn't fully care about gender), but she used to have a minor crush on Debbie Kang! She used to get a little bit flustered around her

I found this one through another post and unfortunately I can't find it right now, but Theresa also has? had a crush on the Ninja! After he saved her, it was more akin to a puppy crush than anything else but she never could ignore the fluttery feeling it brought

Theresa hopes to one day either become a professional baton twirler! She has also considered working for the local observatory due to her love of space and the constellations

She loses herself in her daydreams sometimes

Theresa has such a kind soul but she also worries extremely easily- it's not completely in line with social anxiety

I feel if she had been given the mantle of the Ninja, she would have been exceptionally well with long-range attacks! This is just a vibe I get, but it makes a lot of sense when you think about it

She loves sweets! She's not a big fan of sour foods, but Theresa does enjoy baked goods and certain candies

I also feel she would've protected the Ninja's identity if it had ever come down to her figuring it out- this would've been an amazing episode to see because honestly, Theresa is a very kind girl

She is best friends with Debbie Kang and Heidi Weinerman! The trio are exceptionally close, but Theresa sometimes hangs out more with Debbie since Heidi is a bit busier (considering that Heidi is a little older-)

Now, time for the other part of this ask!

Fowlham Headcanons

Randy was the one who confessed. He would've gotten flustered to hell and back, and he is a mess when he first asked her to be his girlfriend

Theresa found him absolutely endearing- (what Randy didn't know, because he's just a tad oblivious, is that she'd been crushing on him for a while)

At the start of their relationship, Randy doesn't tell her anything about him being the Ninja. As much as he trusts her, he fears putting Theresa in danger (she ends up finding out anyway, sometime down the line)

They use constant pet names. Randy especially, but he manages to get flustered each and every time that Theresa uses pet names on him

They enjoy leisure strolls at the park, down the sidewalk. They're pretty domestic for a lot of things!

Randy finds himself doodling them in his notebooks, even without meaning to. He's the hopeless romantic sort, and he smiles softly to himself at the thought of her

Once Theresa finds out Randy's the Ninja, she does her best to tend to his injuries. She's not an expert by any means, but she tries as hard as she can

She has daydreamed about the life they could have! They're still young, but honestly they're pretty healthy together

Randy frets a lot when she gets too caught in his battles. He doesn't want to break up with her and fears Theresa could get mind-wiped if he isn't careful, but the Nomicon doesn't seem to mind

Let them be prom king and queen together! This would be so cute- I'd draw it if I could actually

Randy is absolutely terrified of her chickens, but he does visit her anyway which Theresa finds endearing. In turn, she keeps the chickens inside the coop when he comes over so he's more comfortable

I feel he was given some version of the shovel talk by Randy's brothers, but because he is a bit charismatic- they relent after a while!

Howard sometimes gets jealous because he's become the third wheel, and Randy does try to treat him when he's not swamped with dates and being the Ninja

Randy and Theresa definitely cuddle! On long days after he's had to deal with McFist or the Sorcerer (pre-season two finale), he kind of crashes at her house- curled up on her lap like a cat- and in exchange, when she wants to unwind they also cuddle!

Unfortunately, I've seem to run myself ragged with headcanons but I am always happy to write more! I hope you come to enjoy this however!

[wisegirlandseaweedbrainforever]

List of Tmnt fics I love (not writing the descriptions myself because that is where I chicken out every time):

You’re a pet shop employee and have two regulars that buy worms for their pet turtles way too frequently. That’s it, that’s the fic.

There wasn’t anything more precious than raising a child. But some people never were afforded the privilege of family. And some never think of those under their care as children in the first place. This is a small look at the Shredder raising his personal little monster.

Lost and alone in another reality, one turtle must try to find his way home. All while trying to forge a place amongst a family who lost one of their own under horrible circumstances and seemingly resents his very presence. No OC's. Set: 2k3 up until 'Good Genes'. 2k12 up until 'The Good, the Bad and Casey Jones'. 

Based on the 2012 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Mikey was captured by the kraang when he, his brothers, and Splinter were mutated. While splinter was taking the turtles to safety the krang got ahold of Mikey.

He shuts the hologram off before it has the chance to turn back around. He knows how it ends: it'll shrug and then smile sadly and then say goodbye. But this wasn't a goodbye. Not at all. If anything, it was a hello. - - - Or; they lost. the kraang led out a full scale invasion. casey jones is only one in a few left.

It is despair, for lack of a better word. It is desolate emptiness. It is numbness and static and nothing. - - - Or; Casey loved Splinter too

Michelangelo is killed by the Newtralizer. He comes back roughly twenty minutes later. What's he doing in between those two moments? Turns out, the astral plane has a familiar face for him to speak to before he goes home.

Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo wake up in a maze, a 'fun'house, a jungle, and a cage. They're surrounded by three other turtles— that aren't their brothers. Or at least not the brothers they know. Each group has a Leonardo, a Raphael, a Donatello and a Michelangelo, but none of them are from the same universe. Pitched together with counterparts of their brothers, the turtle teams have to figure out how to survive the tests their mysterious captors are putting them through. Easier said than done, for some groups. ('03 Mikey is realizing he is going to have to be the responsible one. Why does he have to be the responsible one?) With many questions, and not a lot of answers, four sets of mixed-up brothers set their sights on goals they can all agree on: figure out what's going on, stop it, and make whoever brought them here pay. And try not to strangle their brother's counterparts while they're at it.

(Warning unfinished amd only 5 chapters but still one of the best crossovers I have ever read)

Leo was never lonely. Sure he has his pops and his brothers and his best friend sister April, but he also has someone else he's known almost all his life. He's a mutant turtle too, and for some reason, only he can see him. It's alright, it's not like he wanted to share him anyways. AKA A rewrite of some of the episodes where 2012 Leo is connected to Rise Leo's soul and acts like a weird imaginary friend [Part of the Mama Leo Series.] [Really fucking need to stop making projects while I have a bunch of unfinished ones and school]

Leonardo may have beheaded Shredder, but that doesn’t mean he’s gone. In fact, his soul is still very much alive, just trapped in another dimension, and now he’s a different turtle’s problem. (Rise and 2012 crossover. Mostly the Leos, because there’s not enough of those two.)

[dragonmasterhiccup]

Melodía’s face softens as he begins to fall asleep. She stifles a small giggle as he starts to snore, finding him absolutely adorable. 

The girl looks at Toothless, gently scratching under his chin. “Thanks for keeping me company, Toothless. You’re such a sweet boy.” She nuzzles him. “You hungry? I saw Hiccup get you some fish earlier…” she heads over to where she had seen Hiccup pull out a fish for Toothless earlier that day at breakfast. The former mermaid holds one up proudly, bringing it to the dragon and giving him gentle pets.

Throughout the day, Melodía snuggled up to Toothless near the couch. She used the paper and charcoal she got from Hiccup’s room to do some sketching, drawing all the things she had seen. Chickens, “land clouds”, flowers, dragons, and of course, lots of sketches of Hiccup. It helped that he was just lying there, looking so… well, wonderful was an understatement. 

She drew lots of sketches of Toothless as well, having fun asking him to pose for her, giggling when he was being goofy. 

But the longer Hiccup slept, the more worried she became. He slept through the rest of the day, as well as into the night. Stoick had come home by then, and she had informed him of the situation. She didn’t know whether to be comforted or concerned at how nonchalant Stoick was about the whole thing.

The former mermaid continued to worry, staying by the couch the whole night, snuggling with Toothless. She hadn’t eaten dinner and refused to sleep, wanting to stay awake just in case Hiccup woke up in pain or needed something.

*******

The first rays of morning began to stream into the room, and Hiccup still hadn’t woken up. Stoick had long left, she had pretended to be asleep when he passed by so he wouldn’t suspect anything.

Melodía looks him over, making sure he doesn’t seem uncomfortable in any way. He seems fine… she sighs. Maybe he’ll wake up soon?

She decided to prepare for when he DOES wake up. The former mermaid stands, heading over to the kitchen. She grabs the eggs, and some leftover bread that they had, and got to work. 

Cooking by herself proved to be a tiny bit of a challenge. She had to pick out all the eggshells from her attempts of cracking them in the pan, and also managed to burn her hand as well. But overall, the meal actually ended up looking pretty good.

Her stomach grumbles as she remembers she hasn’t eaten anything for a while, but she shakes her head. Hiccup came first. She grabs a fish for Toothless, and brings the breakfast to the boys.

Hiccup was still asleep though. Melodía sighs, wiping her hands on her pants after handling the fish. She sits next to the couch, looking over his face. He seemed so peaceful. At least he wasn’t in pain.

She then smiles, being reminded of the first time she had ever gotten close to him. She didn’t know how, but the boy had somehow managed to get himself thrown into the water. He had been unconscious, and the mermaid had brought him to shore. That was the first time she had truly seen how beautiful he was. Melodía had sang to him softly, her own little way of admiring the human. But when he started to stir, she had been quick to dive back into the water.

But now… she was here with him again. The former mermaid gently reaches out and runs a hand through his mess of hair. It was just as soft as she remembered. Softly, she begins to sing to him, lovingly admiring every aspect of him.

One of the downsides of Gothi's tonic was it somehow always caused Hiccup to dream about a memory.

It was different each time. Some good, some bad. He had a lot of bad memories, more than he should, but then again, he's a Viking. It's an occupational hazard.

He dreamt this time of when he was testing out the newest version of his flight suit.

Everything started off well, but as he was in the air, one of the metal links had given out. It had a flaw, something Hiccup hadn't noticed, despite how thorough he was.

He plummeted into the ocean, the suit dragging him down. He struggled to get back to the surface, but used up too much air, and he lost consciousness.

He never knew how he made it to shore, since Toothless was completely dry when he came to, but what he never told anyone was the song he heard while he woke up.

The song was still in his head as his dream faded and he started to wake up.

Inhaling deeply, his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he realized that he could smell the aroma of breakfast, and he was on the couch...and while he had yet to open his eyes, he could still hear that same song from that day on the shore.

Eyes fluttering open, he looked at the source of the sound... and realized, as his vision cleared, it was Melodía who was singing.

"...it's you..." His voice was hoarse from lack of use, and the tonic was still wearing off, so he was a little groggy as well. "You're...you were the one, weren't you? That day...when, when I fell into the water, with my flight suit..."

[aiglesperch]

Go Out With a Fight

Fandom : Project Zomboid

Word count :

Summary : As the zombie population swells to its peak, Jean decides to go down with a final fight after a helicopter descends down Arizona.

Content warnings : Apocalypse, zombie, blood, burning inside a car, death

*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_

The days run by, the nights are spent with chill in one's spine and in a half-awake state as one awaits zombies to ambush at any given point. More people are turning day-by-day.

The morning news is getting worser and worser. Well, it'd be damn a surprise if they were still alive and breathing with the turmoil taking place in the USA.

And Jean?

Let's go back to Jean. What does he do when such a world-wide crisis takes place? He sits in his home and reads. He learns a lot about driving a vehicle and making emergency rations.

Wounds are no longer a problem for him provided he blindfolds himself when it bleeds. Well, what could a hemophobic do otherwise? The zombie crisis is a nightmare, indeed.

Hemophobic : Someone who has an abnormal and persistent fear of blood

He partakes in the duties of a ranger - chopping down branches, clearing out alternate routes for him to dash into when the shamblers come onward to the highway road, striking flint together to create a billowing fire.

His heart is steeled in resolve of surviving this horror. Him being an introvert would advantage him by a large margin.

At times, zombies do come. All sorts of them. Florists and hairdressers from the shopping strip, prison wardens from the bashed-open prison entrance, police all around the highway road, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters - all united in this perverse relationship fulfilled solely by a hunger for human flesh.

The books left behind by his beloved did prove useful enough to teach him jiu-jitsu, moreover his axe-wielding skills weren't rusty yet. He continued staying alive as the lone human wanderer for a few days.

When he was hungry, he raided the abandoned kitchens barring the zombies. Canned food was a luxury during these times. He had to store cooked meat and lentils in the ground, salt chicken, pickle the vegetables. It seems the world's gone back a few centuries behind with the death of electricity and water supply.

Then he did remember

It was the year 1982. Kentucky was a pleasant place to live in. Jean, born to a Québécois father and a Irish mother, was brought up in rural Rosewood. Being the child of mixed parents ensured that he was bullied frequently at his school.

He also did recall his parents' insults when he was rumoured to have kissed a boy, such was the thinking back then (and even now in 1993). Ah, the joy of having to hide bits-and-pieces of yourself until you are but a false image to please one's own loved ones. Such was life...

...Until it wasn't. He went to serve as a ranger. Wasn't a honourable job given the amount of people who'd purposefully dump waste on the shrubs and let their pets poop everywhere. Not to mention the children screaming, adults getting themselves in danger for a mere selfie.

He then met this man at a bar. Unlike the others, he didn't drink and rather chose to busy himself in strumming an ukelele.

It didn't take much for Jean to be interested in him, though it did take long for him to date and eventually marry him.

A thudding sound fills the air

It attracts the zombies from all around Arizona. Brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers - all formerly unrelated, now lumped into a single category called 'zombies' - shamble onward to find the source of this noise.

Jean peeps from the heavily covered window.

A helicopter.

And it's attracting everyone close-by, okay, zombies close-by.

This was bad news to Jean. Oh dear, he can already here a couple of hands banging on the doors and windows in desperation. The helicopter has the gall to lower to his location, shine the brightest light available on his house, and leave as if nothing happened.

Wait. If there was someone operating it, it would mean there still are humans!

Rescue, or was it?

Everything's going to be okay

The helicopter was fluttering over like a dragonfly

"YAAAAAAA"

Then the vehicle hit a few gasoline drums on the way. Sparks ensued and soon the whole vehicle was on fire. Jean bit his bottom lip as he steered clear of more obstacles that may disturb his movement. His lip was bleeding and fire is catching up to his seat quick.

Arizona's heat wasn't helping it. It spread its fiery tentacles into the backseat, the bonnet, etc.

"Everything's going to be okay" he whispered to himself repeatedly as flame licks the back of his seat.

"Everything's going to be okay, indeed" he whimpered. At least, the zombies won't get him now.

--- THE END ---

[turtlemagnum]

so, quick summation of today's thanksgiving:

family didn't mind me wearing my noise cancelling headphones! i could still hear em just fine because they're loud and i wasnt listening to music, so that's fine

my grandpa got mildly upset when it turned out the clearly already opened and drank out of 2 liter of mtn dew wasn't brought for anyone but me (the guy who drank out of it with his mouth), but he stopped caring when the guy who owns the house was like "dude, we've got mtn dew". i knew they'd have drinks of their own which was why i didn't bother to bring something for them (aside from me fully expecting for the mtn dew to be what keeps me sane), but i wasn't expecting them to also just straight up have mtn dew

i don't like turkey, it's one of two meats i've had that i actively dislike. but sadly, it's the one bird our shitty founders happened to eat, so it's some harebrained fucking tradition, but whatever. the thing is, parts of my family also insist on having fucking ham, which is literally the only other meat i dislike!!! i like pork, chicken, beef, all kindsa fuckin fish, but they just surgically fucking target the two meats that i dislike!!! my aunt noticed this, and we talked about it a bit and she said she might get some chicken next year for me, which was nice. still, the rolls were decent and dessert was pretty alright, so it's not like im starved or anything

maybe it's just that i'm soft spoken, but i definitely felt like i got talked over and unheard a lot. wasn't nice! still, i managed to make people laugh a couple of times, so that was nice!!!

my uncle had a spacex hoodie on. i didn't wanna ask but i was mildly disappointed in him, albeit not remotely surprised

my aunt and uncle (different ones than the other ones previously mentioned, these are the ones that i'm close enough to actually consider to be family) kept asking if i was coming over to christmas this year, for god knows what fucking reason because the only reason i didn't go last year was because they weren't hosting. no fuckin clue what was going on there

i made a crack at my grandma (which is fairly typical for the entire family, pretty much everybody present also made a crack at her (to be clear the entire family does this to one another, but my grandma is rancid and is the one that usually starts shit so to me it's moreso retaliatory but eh)), but my mom specifically calls me out for it for some fuckin reason (my aunt said that what i said was a good one, at least, made everyone laugh)

got to pet puppies and a kitty!!! the cat used my balls as a place to put his paws before jumping, so i experienced something adjacent to getting kicked in the balls by a cat, so that sucked! didn't hurt that bad though, cat was about as gentle as one kicking you in the balls could be. cat liked being pet under his chin, younger dog was fairly energetic and loving, old man dog was slow and relatively immobile but still affectionate. overall, good time with the animals!! had to take a benedryl when i got home, but i didn't take enough to meet the hat man so i should be fine

all in all, not as bad as i was expecting, the animals were nicer than the last time i came! decent thanksgiving, even if i wasn't able to truly commit to the sin of gluttony

[cannibalkissies]

Charlie Brown, Snoopy, Peppermint Patty, and Franklin for all three of ur fellas :o) -hamsterwife

THANK YOU !!!! I answered some already for Butch so I'll just omit those ^_^

-

-

-

Charlie Brown: How do you and your f/o comfort each other when you're down?

(X) When Howard notices Bill is having a hard time emotionally, he tells him he's there for him and then gives him space. Bill usually comes around and hangs next to him, striking up small conversation to distract himself from his issues.

When Bill notices Howard is upset, he tries to calm him down with a pet on his back, which prompts Howard to crumple into him. </3 Bill knows that it's going to happen every time and as they get closer it breaks his heart even harder than the last time. When he's all cried out, he and Bill have idle conversation about this and that to try and life his spirits.

(X) OUGHGHHTIGU!!! Stefano definitely observes Scott from afar before he goes over and tries to confront him with what's wrong. He talks it out with him and gives him soothing rubs on his shoulder and listens to him. It usually ends in a hug ;; <3

I feel like Scott is the same, but more attentive. Stefano just got out of a crappy relationship, so that would definitely make him hesitant to approach Scott, but Scott is more open because he's had the freedom to be his loving and caring self without judgement.

Snoopy: What kind of pet do you and your f/o have?

(X) BUBBA AND BUTCH HAVE A PET CHICKEN!!! OK!!!!!

ONE OF THESE!!!!!

(X) Oh Howard would so get them a pet rock. OR a pet lizard. One of those little ones that just hang out in your garden. Bill would initially be like "what the fuck are you doing?" when Howard makes the little lizard do a dance on a rock and then he goes on after a few weeks suggesting that he gets the thing a little doll hat.

(X) Oh oh oh, Stefano has a cat! He brought it from his old house into Scott's and they love him very much <333

Peppermint Patty: Is your f/o clingy? Your s/i?

(X) Howard is SO clingy. Bill loves how clingy he is, but he won't admit it. <3 :3

(X) Stefano is very clingy as well as Scott. They love each other so so much you'd have to surgically separate them.

Franklin: What kind of hobbies do you and your f/o enjoy together?

(X) For Bubba and Butch ? Crafts for sure! Also cooking. :))

(X) Howard does a lot of survival stuff so he gathers a lot of material. It's not really a hobby, but Bill likes to help him gather things. I guess you could qualify that as hiking or going on walks!

(X) Stefano and Scott love watching TV or movies together. As well as cooking. They also just like going grocery shopping. Spending time together in general I guess ^__^ Doesn't really matter what they're doing!

[ms-katonic-of-tamriel]

Someone on a Skyrim Discord recently described Inigo as 'an inactive mod that hadn't been updated in seven years' and my first response was total jubilation.

Thank the gods someone finally said it. They're absolutely right. The mod is unfinished, hasn't been updated in years, but people treat it as the be all and end all of follower mods. It truly isn't. I know Inigo brought a lot of joy to a lot of people's lives and the mod was excellent for 2015... but it's not aged well.

Turn away now if you don't want to read the specifics of what I find off putting about the mod.

8000 lines, including ones focusing on trivia like how much of a given item you have, or what day of the week it is, or the weather, but nothing whatsoever on any DLC content.

Inconsistent characterisation - he comes across as comforting best friend and occasional source of wisdom but his backstory isn't conducive to that at all. He's a recovering skooma addict and former bandit, that's the guys who waylay travellers and kill them for their stuff, and he killed the last two companions he had. He thinks you're the last one who's survived somehow. This should not make him a lovable bestie, this should give you the creeps. And yet we're supposed to believe he's worked through all this in weeks and healed. I'm all for a former bastard getting redeemed but the redemption seems to have happened offscreen which is unsatisfying.

Backstory infodumping - modern mods have the backstory revealed organically over time. Like how a person would do it. Not one conversation where thirty years worth of backstory gets dumped on you at once. And you have to sit through this in order to unlock the summon spell and personal quest. Which involves meeting the Most Annoying Man In Skyrim and you're not allowed to kill him. You are in fact expected to take it on trust that your mentally not well bestie is actually the saviour of the world from some unknown threat. No evidence of course beyond the vague psychic visions of the aforementioned Annoyance. You just have to take it on trust. And because no updates in years, you never get to find out what happens next.

And finally a lot of the backstory just feels more like a children's story than an actual adventure. Inigo falling into the clutches of an evil wizard who turns people into chickens and rabbits to act as spies. Mr Dragonfly. Inigo's adventures with his brother. Just could have been a lot better executed. You're infodumped on and told how to feel and if your feelings don't align with that, it's clearly your fault. And that's not good storytelling. How much better would Inigo have been if you'd come across the campsite where they killed Fergus and couldn’t save him but you could save Inigo? And then later adventures happen and you get to find Mr Dragonfly together. Have that adventure with Chicken wizard together. Langley's attempts to reach you just start happening without needing to unlock the tragic backstory. An opportunity missed.

As it is, the next generation of followers have clearly learned from all this. Remiel does better on the weird pet front and personal quest that lets you kill the annoyance. Redcap does better at lovable goofball who's ferociously loyal no matter what. Gore does better at the redemption arc and traumatic past bit. DLC commentary is treated as a valid item for the to do list, not something for the creator's moderators to all wonder why so many people want that. And the next gen followers all talk to each other!

Inigo could be that too... but it was never to be.

[angrenwen]

"

And the dragonet really wasn’t much work. It slept by the fire, and followed me around by day like one of my dogs. It mostly fed itself, after the first few days. A farm always has plenty of rats and mice, lizards and bugs of all descriptions, and the dragon was fast and clever. After a while I named her Diver, because her favourite trick was to dive down on her prey from above. I started thinking of her as ‘her’ even before that, though I wasn’t sure how you told with dragons. But most animals on a farm are female, and most animals will throw more females than males, overall. The odds seemed to lean towards female, so that’s what I called her.

The dogs got used to her quickly, and soon she was riding around on their backs when her little wings got tired. The cows and my few sheep probably thought she was a strange sort of bird, and the chickens just seemed to find her confusing. The geese, of course, tried to eat her. Geese are like that. Once they found out that she was wearing very tough scales and could whip around to bite even when they had a firm grip on her, they reluctantly left her alone.

Diver was nearly a month old the first time a hawk tried to take her. She’d grown a lot – she was nearly the size of a chicken, now, at least in length, though still no bigger around than a chicken’s egg. She was big enough now that she’d started venturing further away from me, and while no hawk would try to take something off a human’s shoulder – no smart one anyway – a fluttering thing at the other end of a field was another matter altogether.

I didn’t see the stoop – I was closing the gate behind the cows I’d moved into that field – but I heard Diver’s shriek of alarm and turned in time to see the puff of flame. When I got there, Diver was sitting next to the scorched remains of a hawk, looking puzzled. She opened and shut her mouth a few times, as if wondering what had just happened inside it, then she sneezed and shot a jet of flame over nearly a foot of grass. Fortunately it was an early spring morning, and between dew and damp the grass might have been wetter if it had been raining, but not by much. Then she looked up at me in bewilderment.

“Don’t do it inside the house,” I told her, and filled a couple of buckets to leave inside, just in case.

My farm is a remote one. Diver was two months old before anyone saw her but me and the father and son who acted as my farmhands. I couldn’t pay them much, but they were landless people and glad to find a farmer willing to let them build a snug cottage on my land, and pay coin for their work besides. They hoped I would leave them the farm, I think. I might have – I didn’t have any children, and they would take good care of the place. Anyway, they didn’t give me any trouble about Diver. They both said, and I agreed, that like any baby wild creature she would revert to wildness when she grew bigger. A fox cub or a young crow can be a pet for a season, but they go back to their own kind in the end.

One of my neighbours, a sheep-farmer named Pegg, was the first. He came, as he does every now and then, to buy a couple of fat geese for his wife to cook. She’s scared to death of geese, so they don’t keep them, but now and then they’ll buy a gander or two for roasting. “What is that?” he demanded, staring at Diver, who was sitting up on the back of one of the cows. I’d brought her in to treat a scratched teat, and she was tethered in the yard.

“A cow,” I said, unable to resist. I don’t talk to people often, so my sense of humour doesn’t get exercised as much as it would like.

“No, what’s that on top of it?” He sounded nervous.

“A baby dragon, I think. That stupid fat chicken who’s always broody, the one who’ll even hatch turkey eggs, must have found the egg somewhere. I thought it was a goose egg until it hatched.”

He went pale. “A dragon? What’s it still doing here? They’re wild from the egg, everyone knows that.”

Somehow, I didn’t like the way he looked at me, so I didn’t admit to feeding Diver and making a pet of her. “If you think any sensible dragon would go flying off up to the rocks when it’s getting fat on rats and mice around my barns, you’re stupider than that damned chicken. It’ll move on when it’s hunted me out.”

“Or start eating the chickens.”

“It won’t do that. It’s never bothered the chicks, or the goslings, or even the wild birds. It’ll eat beetles all day, but never birds.” I shrugged. “Who likes getting a mouthful of feathers? That muzzle isn’t like a beak, she can’t rip the skin off without choking herself on them.”

That seemed to reassure him, for some reason. “Well, that’s true. It’s like a wild kitten, I suppose.”

I nodded. The little spotted wild cats often lurked around a farm for the choice pickings, and learned fast not to bother the chickens and ducks when there was all the rats a cat could eat there in the granary. “I was thinking more like a fox cub. They’re clever enough not to run off until they’re big enough to fend for themselves.”

He was nodding, and it might have ended there if another hawk – they were unfortunately common around here – hadn’t chosen that exact moment to make a dive at one of my young pullets, scratching in the courtyard. They usually didn’t do it while I was standing there, but I was some distance away, and it must have thought it was safe.

It wasn’t. Diver had had several encounters with hawks and falcons by then, and she didn’t care for them at all. Even before I’d realized that the circling hawk had stooped, Diver hopped up off the cow’s back, screeching her disapproval, and spat a jet of flame. The hawk was already dead when it hit the ground. Diver’s flame had grown much stronger, and she had never forgotten the first time one of them tried to eat her. She seemed to have a personal grudge, and flamed them whenever they came near her. The cow and chickens didn’t even twitch. They’re all used to her now.

When I looked around, Pegg had taken to his heels.

Two days later, half the village showed up at my gate demanding that I get rid of the dragon. I told them to bugger off. On my farm, I told them, I could keep what animals I chose. Had I ever complained when other farmers raised orphaned creatures? Of course not. Even foxes, which might raid my chicken runs. The little dragon wasn’t hurting anything.

They came back, though. Again and again. The last time, my own neighbours carried pitchforks against me, and lit torches.

But that was in the autumn, and Diver was as long in the body as a horse and as wide around as a sheep. When she saw the torches and weapons, she leaped up from where she had been lying in the sun, and she roared in fury. She had never been hurt by a human, beyond being rapped on the nose when she tried to steal food, but somehow she knew that this time there was danger. She spat flame, high over their heads in clear warning, and they took to their heels. My farm-hands had been with them, and left with them.

I didn’t mind being alone. I’d always been a solitary soul. With Diver’s help, I managed the farm alone. She was clever – I already knew by then that she understood at least as many commands as the dogs did – and very strong.

Keeping her fed through winter wasn’t the easiest matter, but not the hardest, either. She ate little for her size, but her size was that of a winged horse, with seven feet of long tail besides. I snared rabbits for her, sometimes, and there were always deer in the forest. Between that, and the product of the farm, we ate well enough. It wasn’t easy to fit her into the house any more, but I’d moved out some of the furniture and made a space for her to curl up in at night. Sometimes, while her body lay beside the fire, her long neck snaked up to the loft where I slept and she rested her head on the bed beside me. The scales on her face were fine and smooth, like a snake’s skin, and when I stroked her face she sighed and nuzzled me affectionately.

It was towards the end of winter when I heard a voice shouting outside. I went out, surprised, to find a man on horseback, all shining chain mail and glittering breastplate. “What do you want?” I demanded, annoyed. Rich and important he might be, but a freeholder had rights even the wealthy were supposed to respect. On my own land, provided that I’d broken no laws, the king himself must respect my rights.

He looked startled. “I… was told that a dragon had taken this farm for its lair. Perhaps this is not the right – “ Diver galloped around the corner of the barn at that moment, snorting angrily, and he stopped talking so fast he might have bitten his tongue.

“Diver!” I snapped. “Sit! Stay!”

Diver pranced a bit, not wanting to, then sighed and slammed her large bottom down on the snow with an audible thump. Both the dogs, who’d been flanking her, did the same. The picture was ridiculous, and as annoyed as I was, I was chuckling when I turned back to the knight. “Yes, I have a dragon. No, she has not taken my farm. Yes, she is well trained and works my stock just as the dogs do. And if you take one step onto my land and threaten my stock, sir, then I will make a complaint at Moot, and you will have to pay me the value of every animal you have harmed.”

“But…” he pointed at Diver, “dragons cannot be tamed, and they cannot be stock!”

“She’s a working animal, and she has lived here and obeyed my commands for almost a year. And I assure you, I will place the value of the only tame dragon in the world very high.” I leaned in. He was young, and his armour was shiny because it hadn’t seen much use, I could tell. “Are you sure you can pay it?”

He huffed and puffed a little, but he left after that. The second and third did the same. The laws of restitution are ancient, far older than our current king’s lineage, one of the oldest laws we have. What is taken from the one who holds it must be paid for in kind or in coin. When it came to a sheep or a cow, well, that was easy. A child, less so. Replacing the only tame dragon in the world might strain a king’s purse, if the Moot saw it that way.

The fourth knight was different. He came riding a dark brown horse, almost black, and his trappings were black picked out in blue. He didn’t shout, but waited until I saw him. Then he slid off his horse, and knelt before me in the snow.

“What do you want?” I asked him.

“Take me into your service,” he said solemnly. His helm hid most of his face, but the chin and lips were those of a man in his prime, with only the faintest lines around the mouth.

I stared at him. “You want me to what?”

“You are the dragon-tamer. They say you are a sorcerer of great power. Let me be your right hand, and I will lead your armies.”

I looked around at the farm-yard, which smelled better than farm-yards usually do only because most of the shit was frozen solid, then at Diver, who looked back at me with as bewildered a look as I had. I swear she looked at him, then looked at me, and shrugged slightly. “I am a farmer, not a sorcerer. The dragon is trained as a herding dog. The only army I’ll ever lead is an angry flock of geese. Get up off your knees and bugger off.”

He rose, and watched me for a long moment. “Then let me buy the dragon of you. I will pay you a fortune in gold for so well-trained a creature.” Something in his voice had changed, and not for the better. He’d respected me before. He didn’t now.

“I don’t want or need a fortune in gold. I am a farmer, nothing more. Go away.”

He drew his sword, then. He was a foolish man. He looked at me and saw a stout woman in middle age, bundled in worn wool, holding only a shovel. Unarmed. Helpless.

I have done the work of two men on the farm since I was a girl. I am broad with muscle, not fat,  strong enough to make even a bull mind me, and I can move very fast when I have to. He was expecting me to try to block the sword with the shovel. Instead I swung low, hitting him in the side of the knee with a force that made bone crack and the man scream.

He only had time for one scream. Then Diver barrelled past me and roasted him inside his armour. Her fire was so hot that the armour blazed red-hot in an instant, and he was a charred and unmoving mass when he hit the snow. Well, he was from the chest up. Diver has figured out that the best way to kill prey is to flash-roast the head, which kills them in seconds but leaves the rest of the body intact and ready for butchering.

“No,” I said firmly, when she sniffed at the body. “Eating humans is a bad habit to get into.”

She snorted, as if in agreement, then wound her long neck around me possessively. “Silly girl,” I told her, rubbing behind her ear-holes affectionately. “Help me get him back on the horse.”

The dogs kept the horse in place while we hoisted the man over his saddle and tied him on. He had a dagger on his belt, and I used it to secure a message to his backside. “NOT A SORCERER. DRAGON NOT FOR SALE”

After that, nobody bothered us for a while.

When spring was turning into summer, three knights came together. One was the first one who’d come to me, but this time he was leading two more, who were dressed in finer garb and with a bit of gold leaf here and there on their armour. When I went out to shoo them off, Diver trotting behind me, they both took off their helmets and stared.

Diver was well worth looking at by then, with a barrel like the biggest cart-horse and a tail eight feet long. Her scales were pretty, glittery things, all the colours of ice, blues and greens and whites and silvers, and her round eyes were as blue as forget-me-nots. What really seemed to draw their attention, though, was my bitch-dog with a litter of puppies, all resting on Diver’s broad back, and the pair of chickens riding on her tail. They did that sometimes.

“I told you,” the youngest knight said, with a note of triumph in his voice. “It’s a perfectly tame dragon, AND it’s a working animal on a farm. There’d be more glory in fighting a bull in a field. Bulls are much fiercer.”

“Bulls won’t blow a blast of fire so hot that your melted brain and eyeballs will be dripping out of your skull before you hit the ground.” I leaned on the pitchfork I’d been using. “But she’s still my dragon, and this is my land, and I have rights.”

“Has she ever done that? Really?” One of the older men, now that his helm was off, looked more like a scholar than a knight, with a grizzled beard and a thoughtful sort of face.

“It’s how she hunts deer.” I shrugged, deliberately casual. “She did it to a knight once, when he attacked me with a sword, but if you don’t threaten her she won’t bother you.”

The dog got up and jumped down from Diver’s back, using the dragon’s angled back leg to turn one long jump into two short ones. The puppies stayed where they were, by now quite accustomed to being left on Diver’s back when their mother had other things to do. One started to gnaw on one of the upstanding plates that guarded her spine, which Diver didn’t appear to notice at all.

“Remarkable,” the scholarly looking man said thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose you’d tell me how you did it?”

That surprised me, and I shrugged. “It’s no secret, plenty of the village people know. One of my chickens stole the egg and hatched it, and then I fed her before turning her loose. But she wouldn’t go, even when I carried her up into the hills, so I just kept feeding her. She picked up the first few commands from the dogs, and now she understands more of them than they do.”

“King Roderick, the grandfather of the current king,” the scholarly man said thoughtfully, “tried three times to tame dragons. Two he trapped young, like hawks, but they could not be tamed, and savaged or burned those who trapped them. The third came from an egg he hatched, but it too could not be tamed.”

“How did he hatch it?” I asked.

“I believe the egg was kept in a brass bowl until it hatched, for safety.”

“Maybe he should have tried pushing it under a chicken’s arse,” I said, shrugging. “Diver came out tame enough. Maybe he didn’t keep it warm enough. They’re warm-blooded, you know, not lizards. Her head is as good as a hot brick in the bed, in winter.”

“They’re left out on crags to hatch alone,” the scholarly man protested.

I shrugged. “They can survive hatching alone. So can a chicken egg, if you leave it somewhere warm and it’s far enough along. But you don’t get a healthy chick, or a good-tempered one. Maybe the ones you find are the ones that the mother lost, or the mother was killed by one of you knights. Maybe they scatter some of their eggs because knights raid their lairs, and they want some of the babies to survive. All I know is, all it took was a broody chicken to turn out a nice-natured dragon at least as smart as a pig, and any farmer can tell you they’re smarter than just about any other animal.”

“I thought horses were the most intelligent animals.” It was the other newcomer, the one who hadn’t spoken before.

“Hah. Horses are nervous idiots most of the time. No, pigs and dogs. Especially pigs.” I spread my hands. “That’s why I don’t keep them. They’re more trouble than they’re worth. The goats are bad enough.” Diver had moved closer to the gate now, and she extended her head on its long neck to put her nose over the gate. I patted her head gently. “If you take off those gauntlets, you can pat her nose. Just don’t go for a weapon or she’ll bite your arm off.”

The young one and the horse-lover backed away nervously. The scholarly one pulled off his gauntlet and touched the soft white muzzle. Diver sniffed his hand with interest and he smiled. “I don’t suppose you know where that chicken got the egg?”

“Until it hatched I thought she’d stolen it from one of the geese.” I shrugged again. “I have no idea where she found it, or how to find another one. All I know is, a broody chicken will sit on anything egg-shaped.”

“Really, anything?”

I snorted. “You can put them on an egg shaped rock and they’ll keep it warm.”

About two years later, I heard that the king had a tame dragon, and one or two of his knights as well. My neighbours started talking to me again after that. Apparently if the king can do something, it isn’t dark sorcery. My workers asked if they could come back, but I had a different helper by then, and wouldn’t have taken them back even if I hadn’t. They’d known Diver since she was small enough to sleep in my boot, and they’d come for her with pitchforks.

My new helper was a boy, a skinny runaway Diver had found in the forest the previous winter, half-frozen and three-quarters starved. He adored her, and slept against her side at night. Talas, he said his name was, and I took his word for it. He worked hard, and was good with animals. He was a good boy.

That spring, Talas came running into the house early in the morning when he should have been feeding the chickens, his eyes huge. “Come and see! Come and see!” He grabbed my arm and dragged me out to the chicken run. Under a certain fat brown chicken, the daughter or granddaughter of the fat brown chicken who had hatched Diver, a little red and copper head was peering out, blinking in confusion. The chicken looked just as confused as her mother had, years ago, and Diver had poked her head through the door and was sniffing with interest.

Well, I wasn’t getting caught that way twice. “You take her out from under the chicken,” I told Talas. “Feed her, and put her up on the window-ledge in the sun. If she wants to, she’ll stay with you.”

She did.

Still, I wish I knew where the chickens were getting those eggs. Two dragons is enough for even a good farm to support. I don’t know what I’ll do with the next one.

___

Note: Yes, I know that chickens ‘sitting’ on eggs are actually brooding them under their chest and stomach areas. For comedic purposes, however, the term IS ‘sitting’ and feathery chest just doesn’t sound as funny as feathery arse"

Just because one of your chicken eggs hatched a fire breathing dragon people think you’re evil. But you’re still just a regular farmer trying to make a living while dealing with an overprotective dragon, heroes that want to kill you and fanatics who want to worship you as the new Demon Lord.

[109moons]

This Thanksgiving, I have so much to be thankful for. I cannot help but think of my Dad around Thanksgiving, it was his favorite holiday and the last one we spent together before he passed away. The holidays lead to depression and a lot of self induced isolation in the years following him leaving this earth, but I refuse to do that this year. It is not what he would have wanted for me.

Someone told me in the years after he died how he would be ashamed of me for not following a traditional path, whatever that means. How he would be so disappointed and embarrassed at my mistakes, at what I struggled with. I spent a long time carrying those words and believing them, down to my core. I punished myself. I cried more than any person should probably cry. I realize now how deeply untrue that statement was — my Father would never feel any shame for my failures. My Dad would just be proud that I had the strength to stand back up, and that now, I have learned to ask for help and let people love me again. I am not letting those cruel words dictate how I feel about myself anymore. I am worth more than that.

This year, I am grateful for my family. That sentence does not begin to cover how I feel - but yes, to put it minimally, I am grateful for my family. I am grateful for the community that rallied beside me at my weakest point and helped take care of my fur pets, my at home family. I am grateful for my health - and most surprisingly, I am grateful that my health went to hell and a hand basket. Previous to this, I did not comprehend the strength it takes to rebuild after hitting the bottom like I did. I thought I knew pain, and knew trauma. I didn’t. This isn’t meant to be a pity party for me - I just simply was faced with the fact that I had to make the decision to either be miserable and sick leading up to me dying, that was a really real possibility before my transplant, or if I wanted to see the beauty in the everyday and remind myself every day that the pain would pass. That I was made of tougher stuff than any diagnostic test, than anything my liver or lungs could throw at me. I looked at a framed picture of my Dad, a lot. And I was stronger than anything that was thrown at me, and I attribute that strength to my family that helped keep me strong.

I am grateful for the chance to talk about my experience in the hospital. I am grateful to be a voice for those with liver disease, diagnosed or undiagnosed. I am extremely grateful for the platform to talk about sobriety in an approachable way. I am so proud of the people who have reached out to me about their path with sobriety. I am grateful for 87 days sober, and a lifetime to go. I am grateful for my Frankenstein scar and all of the staples (61, I counted) that pieced me back together. I am grateful for the people I love sitting next to me through the night while I talked to them in my sleep about soup or tried to argue that I wasn’t sleeping, for braiding my hair, for advocating for me when I couldn’t speak up for myself. I am not grateful for grey hospital chicken, but I am grateful for Cracker Barrel French toast. I am so grateful for every damn mistake I have made to lead me to where I am today. I am grateful I tasted death and that brought me a passion to be an advocate for those people like me.

Upon being admitted to the emergency room on September 14th, my oxygen saturation was only 54%. I needed an emergency thoracentesis to drain my right lung, immediately. When the needle went into my ribs and into my lung, I saw my Dad sitting in a chair across from me. He told me he was here, it was going to be okay, and to breathe. I am grateful for that, I am grateful I saw his blue pen stained shorts, with his shirt sleeves rolled up, a hanky hanging out of his pocket, and New Balance shoes. My life is forever changed from September 14th, but I have gained so much more than I possibly could ever lose.

Happy Thanksgiving Eve.

[faaun]

my (neuro)psych professor is fucking hilarious i love him sm

[looseratinthegarage]

Hi! I've been thinking about this for awhile but how would slashers survive an zombie apocalypse with or without a s/o?

Slashers in a zombie apocalypse

Omg I had sm fun writing this!!

Michael Rz

•Terrified. Undoubtedly. Terrified. But! Would do remarkably well! He’d dig a hole somewhere and call it home.

•he’s a big man so food is an issue. But he manages.

•would have constant adrenaline if he has a s/o. He wants to protect you and keep you safe. If you die, especially if it’s because of him, he’ll…. He’ll walk unarmed into a swarm of zombies and fight them with his bare hands. Once he is inevitably turned, his body will wreak havoc while his mind is finally put to rest.

Michael Og

•lil man would be fine. He’d pick a house to make a base in and board it up.

•if the zombies are drawn to noise he’ll be totally okay. Dude doesn’t speak and is so quiet walking around. There’s no way he’d gain their attention…. Unless his unbathed stench brought them…

•I think he’d kill a bunch of zombies…. and eat them. Therefore turning into one. Unlike someone else on this list, he wasn’t trying to fuck around, he just needed food and went nom nom.

Jason

•Now this one’s interesting! Are we talking about zombie Jason? Or living?

•Zombie Jason is a fucking unit and would turn the most people. The only drawback is he kills extremely violently, he rips his victims apart, aka he makes a lot of crawlers or immobile zombinos.

•Living Jason I think would get very overwhelmed. He’d use his machete and or some sort of long ranged weapon that isn’t a gun.

•He’d do well for a long time, but Pamela would call to him from the other side, but only if he was alone or if y/n had been infected/died. He’d cradle his mom's head and possibly his s/o or a belonging of theirs and bury himself in the earth.

Hewitt Family

•Thomas goes into sheer panic. But less panic when he remembers how far from civilization they live.

•Thomas, Hoyt, and Monty if it’s before that even cut Thomas gave him will work together to make huge scrap metal and wood walls on the perimeter of their property.

•Luda Mae goes up into the attic to find scraps of cloth, old guns, and other helpful stuff. She’ll be handling the house and cooking as she normally does, while Thomas, Hoyt and again, maybe Monty, will patrol the perimeter.

•The tea lady moves into the Hewitt estate, and Henrietta brings her trailer into the encased property.

•they’re very stressed about how they’ll be able to provide food for everyone. They’ll turn one or more of the fields into crop land. Luda Mae, Thomas, Monty, and Henrietta will work the fields as well. Not Hoyt. Never Hoyt. I think he’s worried about breaking a nail.

•Long story short, I think they’ll do very well for themselves.

Sawyer Family (-choptop)

•Almost a complete disaster. Nubbins has a zombie chained up outside, he’s been calling it his gross dog. Drayton and Bubba tried to build a wall around the house, but couldn't do it by themselves. Bubbas panicking because they’ll have to eat his pet chicken. Drayton is taking his stress out on everyone. Grandpa is god knows where, no one’s remembered to check on him.

•Yeah they don’t make it.

Freddy

•he would either do amazing or instantly get turned, no in between.

•I think he’d bite a zombie- “how ya like that bitch” and then turn…. Like an idiot.

•Undead Freddy is far more nightmarish than living Freddy. Yuck!

•or on the other hand would kick some undead ass.

•his powers wouldn’t really help him? If my memory serves me well, the more people fear him, the more power he has. Zombies can’t feel fear, there’s only one thing they think about nom nom. Hence he’d have to use his claws or another weapon.

Yautja

•100% fine. Out of all of the boys, he’s good. Like- he’s going to be completely fine. Bruh doesn’t even live on this planet.

•He’ll make sure there’s not a scratch on his s/o, and gods forbid you get infected he can easily cure you with yautja technology.

•they can’t infect him, cus he’s, ya know, a fucking alien. So even if they do bite him, he’ll just be more pissed off then anything.

•He’s not worried about it, he can hop in his ship and just leave. Depending on your mate, he might let you bring family or close friends with you both. He’s not going to be happy about it. But he’ll allow it. Will also allow pets…..hesitantly….

[whumpy-wyrms]

just gonna infodump about these guys because they haven’t even existed for a full day yet but they’ve been rotating around in my brain like a rotisserie chicken (also i’ve decided to name them Aspen and Silas!!) 🐦‍⬛👻🦇🪦🐈‍⬛☠️

every time Aspen dies, he heals but he keeps the scars he got from however he died in his past lives. Aspen has died A LOT, so he has a lot of scars. his favorite color is green and he loves nature and plants and frogs and mushrooms. he definitely has one of those green dinosaur hoodies. he likes to read and write, and definitely plays some sort of instrument and loves to sing.

Aspen and Silas live in a very cold area, lots of snow and shit. it’s FREEZING all the time. morgues/mortuaries are COLD. Aspen’s favorite season is summer :( he loves life and loves seeing the sun and being outside in forests with the plants and animals but now he’s constantly surrounded by death and cold and blood and corpses, and he has to stay up all night and sleep during the day. he will never feel the warmth of the sun again. he hates it.

but it’s not all bad!! Aspen either had a pet black cat that he convinced Silas to bring back to him from wherever it was taken to after he died, OR he found a black cat around the cemetery and befriended it. either way he has a friend :) Silas doesn’t like cats at first but he warms up to it.

Silas is a crow guy. he likes crows. all those carcasses everywhere attracts crows and stuff and he can probably communicate with them somehow. he has a lot of crows living around the morgue and cemetery and he feeds them and stuff. they’re the only living thing he can sorta stand to be around 🐦‍⬛ (besides Aspen)

vampires can turn into bats in my lore so yeah :) Silas sleeps in a coffin but doesn’t let Aspen in his room so he doesn’t know that. Silas can hear and smell everything so imagine his surprise, waking up one night and realizing there’s someone alive in one of those corpse shelves, someone who was supposed to be dead. Silas can also use mind control, and he’s very good at it.

every time Aspen dies, he kinda slowly becomes one with death in a way. like a part of himself seeps through into the astral plane. he eventually starts to see ghosts. he starts to be able to interact with everyone who died there before him, in the cemetery and morgue. he talks to the spirits and they keep him company and comfort him, as they were all also fed from by Silas when they were first brought there too. after a while, Aspen doesn’t feel so alone anymore, but it’s still so cold. he does not tell Silas about this.

anyway i love these new blorbos and i hope u guys like them too :3 making new oc stories is very fun!!

WOAHHHH NEW OC STORY IDEA ALL A SUDDEN

okay so vampire guy works at a morgue and feeds from the dead bodies but it’s never Enough. it keeps him under control but he does needs fresh blood once in a while. anyway this human guy dies, was brought to the morgue, and the vampire guy drains him of all his blood (as he does to every corpse) but this human died recently and his blood was fresher and tastier than the others. vampire leaves the dead human in one of those corpse shelves for the night (vampire guy lives in the morgue somewhere) and the next morning BOOM. the human guy is awake and alive and healthy as if nothing happened. immortality moment!! woah

and the vampire guy is like SWEET!!! new infinite food source of fresh delicious human blood!! now he doesn’t have to feed from those gross corpses anymore or go hunting and risk being killed by pesky vampire hunters.

but vampire guy still has to work at the morgue. that’s his whole business. that’s his home and how he needs to make money to buy food for his new human bloodbag (guy can survive without food but his blood tastes better when he’s not starving).

and it’s strange for the vampire guy sometimes. he’s always spending time around dead humans and this is the first time he’s gotten close to an actual live human before. and even though he’s keeping him captive, he still likes making conversation sometimes. it gets lonely being an immortal vampire who’s hasn’t had a close relationship in decades, and who’s instinct it is to suck the blood out of every human he meets. and since immortal human guy is trapped there and has nothing to do, he might as well talk to him. he’s lonely too and now just found out he’s immortal. he doesn’t wanna be alone forever

but obviously he hates being fed from by a vampire and desperately wants to escape. vampire guy kills him a bunch of times just because he Can. sometimes he drains him of all his blood when he’s extra hungry, sometimes he just kills him for disobeying or trying to escape to teach him a lesson. sometimes he kills him for fun, for the thrill of the hunt. dying is PAINFUL as fuck to the human. he hates dying even though he always comes back fully healed.

sometimes the human wants more things to keep him occupied so he’s not bored all day trapped in the basement of a morgue (or maybe he’s kept locked in a corpse shelf during the day, extremely claustrophobic and dark, with no way out, trapped next to a bunch of human corpses. who knows). but the vampire doesn’t wanna waste his hard-earned cash on buying his human silly unnecessary things just because he’s bored.

so sometimes he lets the human help him work. vampire guy owns the morgue and has no other employees, and only works at night to avoid sunlight, so human wouldn’t be able to call for help anyway. human guy hates being around dead bodies but it gives him something to do and he technically gets paid for it in a way. now vampire guy gets things done twice as fast and has more money and free time too. he buys his human the stuff he wants, like books or puzzles, and they sometimes play games together.

human was a nobody. he probably died from some freak accident and was brought to the morgue by the hospital. he didn’t have a family or any loved ones that claimed his body or set up his funeral. nobody came looking for his body to bury or cremate because Nobody cared that he was gone. and that just makes things a whole lot sadder because even if he does somehow escape the vampire, where’s he gonna go? he’s legally dead. Everyone thinks he’s dead. he’s supposed to be dead. there wouldn’t be anywhere to go or anyone to go to because he obviously can’t tell people he’s immortal, that would just cause more questions, and surely being experimented on by scientists would be worse than whatever he’s going through right now, right?

so human guy has to accept his life now, as an immortal bloodbag for a vampire who works at a morgue. his life is filled with blood and death, but there’s nothing he can do about it. maybe vampire guy eventually gains sympathy for him, and starts to feel bad for his pathetic excuse of a life. maybe they eventually become friends. or maybe the human stabs a wooden stake through the vampire’s heart. who knows

anyway these guys have existed in my head for nearly an hour and they don’t even have names but i am going insane over this holy shit???? RAUHHHH i’ve gotta make picrews dude i gotta draw them. new blorbos. new brainrot. i prommy i’ll still get tllr chapter 13 out today or tomorrow but WOAHH look at these new little guys they’re so silly