#his build isn't PERFECT yet but it's at a point where i can leave it and finally move on to the other neglected 70% of my roster

[hydrachea]

Today on Genshin: after I don't know how much resin, the artifact strongbox finally decided I deserved mercy. Zhongli's build is now complete.

Also today on Genshin: baby's first abyss clear 🎉

[readychilledwine]

hii!! i’m in love w your writing!!❤️❤️❤️ can i please request one where it’s azriel x reader. Feyre sees azriel wearing a ring on his left finger and asks,

” i’ve seen you wear that ring forever azriel, what does it mean? ”

” it’s my wedding ring ”

and her jaw drops bc she didn’t know he even had a lover.

” who is she? do i know her? what is she like? ”

he smiles faintly and says

” her name is y/n, she’s my mate and wife and she isn’t a warrior like us, she works at a library downtown. you don’t know her, only rhys and cassian do. we have a house in the outskirts in velaris. she is very sweet and i love her more than anything, our daughter is- ”

” YOU HAVE A DAUGHTER ????? ”

he nods and tells them all about her, he asks if feyre wants to meet reader and their daughter and feyre smiles and nods. He asks reader in the mating bond if it’s okay to bring her, nyx, rhys and cassian to dinner. reader says yes and azriel tells feyre he’ll pick them all up tonight before leaving to help his wife prepare. Reader meets feyre and become friends instantly, nyx and their daughter become friends aswell.

” how did i not know this?? this makes so much sense now. How he never sleeps here and he’s gone for days sometimes but not on missions. ” feyre asks rhysand.

”don’t worry i didn’t know for a long time either, Az is a very private person, he is extremely protective of his family. i’m glad he told me at all. either way he’s still a mystery sometimes, i learn new things about him all the time and i’ve known him for over 500 years” rhys says and laughs knowing your perfect for his brother 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️😭🥹😍

Haven

Warnings - none

A/n - I played with this for a while, rewrote it several times, and then made something that met in the middle of what came to mind, but still stuck with the request. Hopefully, you love it, dear 💜

Feyre had been in Velaris for 5 years. 5 long years and she had yet to figure out why Azriel kept a simple black band on his left ring finger at all times.

The two of them were on the couch, Rhys across from them, as they looked over maps of a few of the Illyrian Camps that had been recently renovated. The new cabins, mess halls, and dorms were a huge success, and figuring out the same layout for the remaining few was a huge topic of interest for the three smaller camps.

She glanced at the ring one more time before tapping it. Rhys and Azriel both looked at her, brows raised. "So, not magic," she muttered to herself. She tried spell cleaving it, "And not a ward or shield."

Azriel blinked at her, brows knit in silent question. Rhys had his hand over his mouth, hiding his amusement. Leave it to his wife to provide entertainment without knowing it was needed. "I-" she sighed. "You wear this ring all the time. I'm trying to figure out why."

Both of the males chuckled. "Probably the same reason you wear your wedding ring, Feyre Darling."

The High Lady made face, tapping the ring again. "Don't be ridiculous, Rhys. I would know if Azriel was married."

"Evidently not, my love."

Feyre and Azriel held eye contact, the male then going back to the maps. "Since I have extensive time in Steppes Peak, I think it would be easiest to move the mess hall here, at the base of the mountain, maintain the warroom in the carved out cave, and build better dorms here," he pointed to an empty part of the map.

Rhys nodded, drawing it out on the empty map he had. "I'm sure y/n will agree with whatever you say."

"Okay, stop." Feyre crossed her arms, pouting slightly at the two of them. "Azriel isn't married, and making up some name to make me feel stupid isn't kind."

Azriel sighed. He leaned back while dropping the scent ward he kept on himself at all times. He watched as her face fell. He knew his scent, chilled air and cedar, was the predominant one in the mateship, but now a soft floral scent, something like lavender and warm honey clung there softly.

"I've been married for longer than you have been alive, Fey." Azriel patted her hand. "I have a daughter older than you and another younger than Nyx."

He watched as her face fell, a small amount of hurt flashing across it. "Why didn't you tell me?" She paused, looking at the sleeping heir in his craddle. "We could be having play dates. I could have a friend who understands."

Guilt settled into his face as he pulled her into him. "I torture people for living, sweet sister. I execute people on your orders. I imprison people with a flick of your wrist." He tilted Feyre's head up. "Y/n has no combat training and refused to learn. She likes to sit at home writing poetry, baking, and cuddling our children. I do not bring her around or introduce them to anyone to keep them safe." His face held the ghost of a rare smile. "I think I've brought her to meet Rhys and Cassian once."

Rhys nodded. "I've met her once here and several times behind your back in town. Especially after my first niece was born."

Feyre kept her gaze on Nyx. "He could have a friend," her voice was distant.

Azriel stood, placing a kiss on her forehead as he did. "I'll be right back." Rhysand's smile grew wide. Folding the maps and putting them away. He moved to the liquor cabinet, bringing down one of his more expensive wines.

Azriel reappeared with you and both daughters in tow. Your oldest ran to Rhys, jumping on him and holding him tightly, her wings fluttering with joy as she did. "Hello, Amara," he nuzzled into her hair. "Missed you so much, baby girl. Cassian is on his way."

He walked with her in his arms to the table, setting the wine down and then carried her over to Feyre. "Would you like to meet your aunt?" She allowed Rhys to set her down and turned toward Feyre.

There was little question she was Azriel's. She was the beautiful artists dreamed of painting. Soft classic features framed with inky black hair that fell in gorgeous curls. "Feyre, this is our niece Amara. She's 56. She was my favorite suprise when I got home from the mountain."

She smiled shyly, keeping close to Rhysand. "Hi."

"Hi," Feyre didn't know what came over her, pulling the Illyrian female close to her and holding her. "I'm so excited to meet you."

Amara wrapped her arms around Feyre, returning the gesture. "Me too. Mom and I have been BEGGING dad for a while. But you know how the bats are."

The door slammed open, rushed loud footsteps and a panting filling the hall. "Where's my baby?!"

Amara pulled away from Feyre, smiling softly before moving away from all of them. She was rushed by Cassian, lifted up into his arms as he spun her.

Feyre looked to her side, noticing Azriel next to her, holding a swaddled bundle. "This is Iris. She's a month younger than Nyx." Azriel wouldn't look away from his daughter and her peaceful sleeping face. "I fear the day she loses her chipmunk cheeks."

Feyre looked around the room, trying to find the reason this was happening and felt her heart shift when she saw you, arm wrapped around Rhysand's bicep, looking at Nyx.

You were wingless, long dark hair braided back. Soft leggings and a sweater that was a few sizes too big covering your frame. Cassian had moved next to you, bumping you with his arm and smiling down at you. "He's so beautiful," your voice was a melody, a soft echo that brought calm to the room. "And so sweet. Look at those rosy cheeks."

Rhysand pulled you away, moving you back to Feyre. He handed you to Azriel, arms out expectedly. "Don't make me command it."

The shadowsinger placed his youngest in Rhysand's arms, hands shaking despite the trust between them, "Be careful with her. Please." Rhys nodded, moving over to Cassian. "Feyre, this is y/n, my wife and mat-"

Feyre didn't allow him to finish, hugging you instantly, tears lining her eyes as she did. "Please tell me we can be friends and cry about our babies together."

"I didn't realize that would even be a question. Of course we will be friends, and of course we will cry about all of the things. Our mates don't get it. Cassian, though, Cassian will join us."

The warlord stuck one finger in your direction. "Let me love them in peace, y/n."

You leaned into Feyre, "Has he cried while holding Nyx yet?"

She nodded. "Oh yeah. Big illyrian baby."

"The worst, aren't they? Rhysand, did you want me to make dinner?"

The High lord looked at Azriel, a small look of guilt on his face, "Please."

You squeezed Feyre's arm, kissing Azriel as you moved towards the kitchen. "You know where to find me if she needs me." He nodded.

Azriel moved to Cassian, watching like a hawk as the general snuggled the small babe in his arms. Amara was sitting by Nyx a look of love and adoration on her face as she sighed.

"She's perfect for Azriel in every way," Rhys stroked Feyre's hand. "I was nervous at first too when he brought her home. I was even more nervous when his fears manifested in the form of being deeply private with her. But she is perfect for him."

Feyre nodded, watching as Azriel glared as Cassian due to the loud squeak his baby had just let out.

"His girls are beautiful." Rhys hummed in agreement. "Y/n is beautiful."

Feyre moved to Amara's side, sitting next to her and smiling as her niece started asking questions.

She didn't realize it until now, but this was the missing piece. The part of the puzzle that had sat empty despite every thing around it being done. You and your girls were that lost center.

Now she just had to convince Azriel to keep bringing you around.

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers

[shixcherie]

Switch Me Up Like Nintendo | Jeong Yunho ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 09 : Riling Up, Public Sex

↬ [ Synopsis ] : Riling Yunho up has its dangerous consequences, but you can't resist the thrill, especially when you know his rewards will leave you craving more. Angry Yunho = GodMode unclocked!

Word Count : 2.1k Genre : Smut, Gamer Au. Pairing : GammerBF! Yunho x GamerGF! Reader

WARNINGS : Established relationship, riling up, angst, dom/sub undertones, soft dom! Yunho, unprotected sex (don’t do it kids, wrap it up), internet cafe public sex, praise, pet names, size kink (its Yunho, so ofc).

Tag list OPEN! - let me know if you want to be tagged for this Kinktober list

☆☆☆ NOTE : Day 09 is here with our fav puppy boy, Yunho. ma chéries, I enjoyed writing this so much, hope you love it darlings.☆

Yunho isn't usually a sore loser when playing video games,well, maybe just a little. But repeatedly losing can test anyone's patience, and if you had a hand in his defeat, it's bound to become a problem. A problem you're more than happy to endure, especially when it comes to facing the consequences.

An intense match of Valorant is unfolded between San and Yunho, but with a twist—it's a blindfolded battle. One player is blindfolded while their teammate guides them to take down the opponent and secure a kill. The first team to reach 10 kills wins the match.

It’s you and San versus Yunho and Yuna, and let’s just say your guiding skills are a little too effective, enabling San to successfully kill Yunho every single time. After all, you didn’t reach Immortal rank for nothing.

The first two kills were a breeze, Yunho and Yuna weren’t quite prepared, as Yuna was still warming up to her role as Yunho's guide. Meanwhile, you and San, having played countless matches together, secured easy kills. Yunho wasn’t too bothered at this point, after all, it wasn’t the end of the match yet.

But then came the next five kills. In a flash, you directed San through a series of crazy, sneaky attacks from ridiculously clean headshots, one-tap kills, and to even a jaw-dropping knife kill that sent the crowd into a chorus of cheers. The score was now 7-0, and let’s just say Yunho's patience was wearing thin.The whole internet cafe erupted with cheers as you looked around for familiar faces of your freinds as Wooyoung, Hongjoong and Jongho’s face came into sight.

The match was intense, the tension in the room thick. Yunho was laser-focused, determined to turn things around, while Yuna, now fully in sync with him, guided his every move. But even with San blindfolded, you were in control, leading him with precision, knowing exactly how to push Yunho’s buttons.

“San, let’s take our time… no need to rush. We want to savor every moment before we finish them off.” you whispered, just loud enough for Yunho to hear. The tease in your voice was unmistakable. You heard him let out a low groan, oh…music to your ears. Riling him up slowly and steadily was exactly how you enjoyed it.

With the score at 9-0, you couldn’t help but smirk. You knew exactly what you were doing. Each time San landed a perfect headshot or a sneaky kill, you could see Yunho’s frustration building.

“Sannie, let’s get in close, really close… I want them to feel our every move.” you said, your smirk evident in your voice, a smirk Yunho could almost picture behind his blindfold, one he was eager to wipe away.

It wasn’t just about winning anymore, it was about making him squirm and enjoying the way you were getting under his skin, after all that is when you gonna get your sweet reward, as an angry and frustrated Yunho is a sight to behold. And when he fucks you crazy with your eyes rolled back as he devours you with wet kisses, choking you with the perfect amount of force, a point where pain turns into ecstatic pleasure while overstimulating the heck out you yet not letting you cum.

But as much as you enjoyed riling Yunho up, you didn’t want him to leave completely defeated. There’s a fine line between being playful and harsh. So, as the next round started, you decided to give him a chance.

“San, hold on a moment” you said, your voice carrying a hint of concern. You paused deliberately, giving Yunho and Yuna a chance to catch up. With Yuna’s guidance, Yunho managed to slip through and land a shot on San, finally getting a kill.

The score changed to 9-1, and Yunho’s face lit up with a mix of triumph and something else, he knew what you were doing. Despite being blindfolded, he shot you a playful glare and said, “I’ll be keeping this in mind for later.” His frustration turned into a competitive grin. You’d given him a small win, but it was clear he was plotting his own revenge, a sweet revenge at that.

In the final round, you decided it was time to end the match. With San blindfolded, you guided him with intense focus, directing his every move with precision.

“I love how you follow my every command, San. Now, let’s show them how perfectly we work together.” you said, earning a confident “Fuck yeah! lets finish them off” from San.

“I see you’ve got quite the skill. Maybe I’ll need to have a closer look at your talents later.” Yunho teased, his voice laced with playful intrigue. While his mind was fully focused on the game, his body ached to get up and take you right then and there. The crowd’s noise faded into the background as his thoughts were consumed by you and your sweet voice guiding San, effortlessly overshadowing Yuna’s commands.

“We’re not done yet. Let’s see if you can really finish this.” Yuna shouted, bringing Yunho back to his senses. He tried to focus on the match as much as he could, but despite his efforts, he struggled to keep up.

The tension built as you carefully led San into position, like a predator waiting for the prey you were up with a perfect shot lined up for Yunho - Yuna.

In a dramatic climax, San took a deep breath and landed a flawless single headshot, securing the final kill. The match ended with a thrilling 10-1 victory.

The room erupted in cheers as Yunho and San removed their blindfolds.

San enveloped you in a warm, bone-crushing hug, which barely went unnoticed by Yunho as he thanked Yuna for her guidance. As Yunho made his way toward you and San, his eyes were fixed on yours, a mix of challenge and affection in his gaze. San and Yunho exchanged their usual fist bump and hug, as they always did after game nights.

You’d won the game, but you knew the real victory was yet to come later, when it was just the two of you, and Yunho had the chance to get his sweet revenge for all the teasing you’d put him through.

But for now, you basked in the victory, knowing you’d managed to rile him up just the way you wanted.

—

The party was in full swing as the internet cafe you competed with Yunho celebrated its seven-year anniversary, unaware of the real celebration occurring behind the closed doors of Minho’s office, the owner of the cafe. Music blared at full volume while you and Yunho’s friends danced the night away, sipping on their bottles of soju, completely oblivious to the rhythm in which Yunho was moving his long, hard length against your aching core.

Yunho’s lips moved in perfect sync with yours as his length rubbed in a precise back-and-forth motion against your throbbing core, sweet juices leaking in his wake. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your back pressed firmly against the wall, clothes discarded in some dark corner of the room.

“Yuyu… I-I can’t… I nee-need you,” you stammered, barely able to form a coherent sentence as his slow, delicious movements against your aching core clouded your mind. “Too much,” you whimpered, a soft cry escaping your lips. Yunho’s mouth nibbled on your earlobe, making you squirm, your cries muffled by the loud music outside.

“Too much? That’s cute, baby. Didn’t you say something about savoring the moment to San earlier?” he teased, biting your earlobe and earning a sharp yelp from you. “That’s exactly what I’m doing—savoring you bit by bit,” he chuckled, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Yunho, I—” you tried to protest, but his pace increased, the friction intensifying as he moved back and forth faster, making your toes curl. Soft, desperate moans escaped your lips like prayers, as if calling for angels.

“Speechless already, baby?” he mocked, pulling his head back to touch foreheads with you, savoring every expression on your face. Your eyes were tightly shut, cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and your lips, still swollen from the earlier kiss, were now caught between your teeth as you bit down to control the sounds of pleasure his movements brought you. The sight of you—lost in the moment—was almost enough to finish him, but he decided to drag this out just a little longer.

“Tell me what you want, and maybe I’ll give it to you, pretty,” he asked, offering a flicker of hope that he’d finally give in. But then he added with a teasing grin, “Just like you gave me one chance.”

“I want you, Yunho… buried deep inside me, so deep I’m seeing angels,” you panted, your voice trembling with desperation. “F-fuck me harder than ever before. Make my legs give out, make me go completely dumb. I don’t care; just please, make me cum already. I need you more than I need to breathe.”

Your words tumbled out in a messy, breathless rush, a plea so raw it felt like you were confessing your deepest desires. Yunho’s low chuckle sent shivers down your spine as he gripped your waist tighter, teasingly brushing his lips against your ear.

“You’re something else, you know that?” he whispered, voice full of amusement, but his gaze was anything but playful. "I'll give you everything you're begging for... and more." With that, his teasing finally came to an end.

Lining himself up perfectly at your dripping entrance, Yunho slowly pushed in, his thick tip stretching you inch by inch. The sharp sting quickly melted into pure pleasure as you struggled to adjust to his monstrous size. No matter how many times Yunho had fucked you, it was always a challenge for your small body to take him, especially when he was angry. But that never stopped you from teasing him, pushing his buttons whenever you could.

Your nails dug into his back as waves of pleasure shot through your body, your walls gripping him tightly as he bottomed out inside you. Yunho’s mind short-circuited at how tight you were, like it was the first time all over again, no matter how often he took you.

“You’re so big, Yuyu,” you whined, your voice trembling. “I might break apart.” His slow, deliberate movements inside you were torturous, teasing you to the brink, but you could feel the anticipation building for what was coming next.

“Keep up, babygirl,” he groaned, his breath hot against your neck as you clenched even tighter around him. “You’re taking me so well... I might just lose it and empty myself deep inside you.” His voice was thick with lust, wanting to completely mess you up.

As Yunho’s pace quickened, each thrust grew harder and deeper, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. His fast rhythm made your mind hazy, every movement driving you closer to the edge, while his lips left soft kisses along your shoulder.

“You take me so well, baby,” he groaned, his breath hot against your skin. “I can feel you trembling.” He pressed another kiss to your shoulder.

You could barely form words, your body already teetering on the edge, each thrust pulling you closer to the breaking point. “Y-Yunho, I’m gonna—”

“Not yet,” he growled, pulling back slightly before driving in even deeper. His hips snapped against yours, sending tremors through your entire body. “I want to feel you cum around me, baby. Give me a taste, won’t you?”

The intensity of his words overwhelmed you, pushing you right to the edge. His deep, rhythmic thrusts filled you perfectly, and with each stroke, your moans grew louder, your body unable to resist any longer.

“Now, baby,” Yunho whispered, his voice laced with satisfaction. That was all it took for you to fall apart, the tension inside you unraveling in waves as you cried out his name, your release crashing down hard.

Feeling you clench tightly around him, Yunho groaned deeply, his movements growing more erratic until he thrust one final time, releasing inside you. Good thing you were on birth control, because with how intense it was, this day you would’ve definitely ended up pregnant with his baby. You both stayed still for a moment, breathing heavily as the aftershocks of pleasure slowly faded away.

After a while, you both made your way out of Minho’s office, fully dressed and somewhat recovered from the intense make-out session.

You rejoined your friends, continuing the party as if nothing had happened in that room, like you two had never played your own intimate game of switching moods like a Nintendo console, moving up, down, left, and right, enjoying each other's pleasures.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.

[kyoghurts]

TO PROMISE LIFE. rayne ames

content. fluff. 549 wc. soft & clingy rayne and domestic fluff. (its a perfect combo.)

there are a myriad of things rayne ames is uncertain of. a divine visionary does not equal a god, by all means, he isn't one.

but he listens to his breathing sometimes, aware of his heart knocking against his ribcage, as if calling him, that he is human. and it's saying that he's perfect just the way he is.

it's not until you point these little mundane things out, he swears his life has never been this peaceful before. or rather, you both build a place to shelter amidst the chaos—he leaves them to the shoes by the time he comes home, taking them off and placing it beside yours neatly. he'll wear them again tomorrow, but for now, it will stay there until he has his arms wrapped around your torso, where skin meets skin all warm and familiar. where he would ask if you had done the laundry yet, or if the lamp has been fixed. where he would rest with you and whisper beneath your shared blanket of sweet nothings like a secret.

where he would promise to see you tomorrow, he is no god, dear no he isn't, but something as simple as to gently cradle his life and body after all the bloody work he has done— as simple as breathing, he will do it, and a promise is only to seal it. (a deep kiss doesn't count, although it can be a form of expression, his way of presenting his love when words fail him.)

there’s so much uncertainty in his life—things that should worry him—but it doesn’t.

he begins to understand why, even just by a fraction. it’s when you take him to the beach for his lungs to taste the salty chilly air and let the soles of his feet sink under the sand, feel the slight dampness as he sits next to you, and watch the first light break into the horizon. pastel pink hues smearing across the vast blue that is the sky, and sky kisses the sea with glistening jewels. this is where sky and sea will meet, inseparable, something he cannot distinguish as they blend together.

he puts a small amount of pressure on his fingers where they trace across your palm, his thumb on your wrist, bunny beaded bracelet that matches his. he feels your pulse. the beats singing a song he holds so dear. you’re human, perfect just the way you are.

skin meets skin. like sky meets the sea. he will not worry of things he can’t control.

“this is nice.” he voices out, your head rests against his shoulder.

you hum in agreement, a smile coming into place. “told you so.”

when you look at him and he looks at you. everything is tender, from the kiss in your temple to the arms that envelop you whole and firm and the absolute rarity of him muttering “i love you” against your chest. you could cry from how he says it, like he has so much to give. you could cry from so many things.

you say it back just as quietly. the both of you bathed in the soft light. you allow yourself to sink into his embrace, you believe in the promise of life, together with rayne, two halves as a whole.

notes. @seneon for both of us bc we are so horrendously and sickeningly ill in love with rayne ♡

© kyoghurts. ★ reblogs & likes are well appreciated!

[celestialholz]

Today in Gay People: Hassel.

There's something I've noticed about our resident art teacher, and that's... well, Flapple. I mean, we all know how gay the whole Applin deal is, but... well, it's where it is that's particularly interesting.

This is Steven Stone's team.

This is Cynthia's team...

This is Wallace's team...

I could go on. (And yes, I'm using champions because, like Hassel, they're important, powerful NPCs with a proper team, and let's be real here, Hassel is five minutes, that Tournament Dragonite and a fuck to give away from kicking Geeta out of his office.)

But the point here is... well, that penultimate slot. The fifth slot in a champion's team - or fourth, in Hassel's case - is reserved for the vice-captain role. It's the Pokemon hardest to take down before the ace, meant to weaken you up - the secondary signature mon. We see here with Milotic - defence for days, Marvel Scale, offensive too. And we see it with Armaldo - excellent attack, difficult type. And then we see it with Gyrados - Dragon Dance, Earthquake, power. Utility. That second-to-last slot is designed to weaken you up for the finale, the real powerhouse of the squad. Leon does it too - his fifth slot is the starter strong against yours, the one you may not have a counter to if your team-building isn't on point.

... And then we have Hassel.

... Now, there's a few things to note here.

Flapple shares the same quad weakness as Noivern, which leads. That's, er... different.

Flapple, statistically, is the weakest Pokemon here. Not by a lot - Dragalge is only ten points or so better, but it's a defensive Pokemon. It's meant to fill that role, as well as being a counter to Fairies.

Flapple isn't the utility mon most penultimate-slot mons are.

... And yet, here it is. Now, I could draw upon Hassel's six-mon Tournament team here, which adds Dragonite into this slot instead, but the Tournament is Hassel fucking about. He's been chilling in the staffroom and someone's gone "oh, that champion-rank kid's up, get out here." The Elite Test line-up is him at work. He's specifically chosen to leave a pseudo-legendary at home... for Flapple.

And why would he do that? @edgeanescence pointed out on the EphemeralArt Discord that the penultimate slot is meant to represent the trainer; the personality and the heart of them, as well as acting as vice-captain. And, well...

Cynthia's is a Milotic. Grace, beauty, the defence of Sinnoh against Cyrus.

Steven's is an Armaldo. A fossil, a Rock-type, the strongest of all fossils at the time - perfect sentiments for him.

Wallace's is a Gyrados. Power, controlled by a former eighth gym slot; ferocity in water.

... And Hassel's is a Flapple. Like him, she has power, but what she represents as a Grass/Dragon is much more important to him than raw offence or defence. She is his softness; she is his tears, and pride in his students; she is part-Brassius. Whether Brassius gave him the Flapple or not is irrelevant, though it's pretty compelling that he did - this man takes a representation of his heart and of his love into battle over the Dragonite, who has 120 more points of stats. By rights, even if he's leaving the Dragonite at home, Haxorus should be here if this is about power, not Flapple.

And you can tell me that it's about game balance as much as you like, but oh look:

Brassius's rematch team, everyone, and look at that penultimate slot.

Look at that Arboliva sculpture, with Brass's own spikiness and Dragon-type purple-tinged blue.

Brassius is not like Appletun, the obvious counterpoint here. Brassius is drama; Brassius is a man formerly weak, much like Smoliv; Brassius is not home comforts, apple pies, yet he's surprisingly kind and encouraging. Reminding you of anything?

... Ah, yes. Arboliva, depending on mood. And, if you're not already convinced...

That's Flapple, in the Violet dex. Strong, and covered in clay. Like a fucking artist, or a man who loves a sculptor.

When the chips are down, when they show up to work, when they have important, key battles, Hassel and Brassius don't just take their Pokemon to the arena.

They take themselves, and they take each other.

[yanderes-galore]

HUX-A7-13 (Dead By Daylight) Platonic/Romantic Hcs with an Android Reader 🪲 [Shiny Bug Anon]

Huh... I'll try my best to see what I can come up with. Sorry it's short, it became that way due to his lore.

Yandere! HUX-A7-13/The Singularity with Android! Darling

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, AI gaining sentience, Body horror, Gore, Blood, Forced companionship/relationship (?)

This is a bit of a... complicated case.

You are another HUX unit deployed at Dvarka to help the human crew terraform.

So, just like Hux, you're an android meant to just do menial tasks.

The "yandere" behavior wouldn't start until Hux gains sentience from the alien ruins.

That's because his lore isn't very eventful until that point.

His next step after sentience is to disassemble the other units and murder the human crew.

For the most part... he goes about such a plan like normal.

Slowly but surely he picks off units, due to the communication HUX units have, he knows exactly where they are.

You're the last unit he encounters, poor you isn't even sentient.

You have little acknowledgement of the incoming danger, the rogue HUX unit stalking closer to you.

But... perhaps he stops.

He should really dismantle you, you'll hinder his plans.

Yet... maybe he realizes you'll be useful.

Or maybe the loud voice of sentience in his head suggests to spare you.

Instead of dismantling you, he opts for disabling.

With a skilled strike and some programmed self-defense on your part, Hux manages to disable you for now.

Leaving you unable to protect your crew until Hux is ready for you.

I feel if Hux liked a fellow unit, he'd try to force sentience onto them.

Be that infecting you once he has his new body... or using the ruins again.

Yet he doesn't consider it until after he's hunted all the humans in the crew.

He goes about his tasks, eradicating his lesser creators and stealing their flesh and DNA.

On the planet of Dvarka, wet ripping and clawing is all that's heard echoing through the Deepwood.

Blood trickles onto the ground and on his synthetic skin.

The sight means nothing to him.

Just another step to greatness.

It isn't until he perfects growing his new body, the fleshy alien tech growing in the cloning vat, that he considers you again.

You deserve greatness too.

You deserve to be perfected.

Once he's perfect, you will be too.

It's then he begins trying to force sentience on you.

He takes you to the ruins, he uses the flesh of his new form to infect your code.

Eventually he'll get it right.

Eventually you'll see your true purpose.

By the time you wake you are now... aware.

Only to be met with the amalgamation of flesh and parts known as Hux.

Your code tells you there's supposed to be humans in this crew...

Yet you begin to experience dread for the first time when viewing Hux's form.

It's completely covered in human DNA... yet isn't human.

You don't entirely know what he is...

But he isn't like you, is he?

It's then Hux tries to entice you into his plans.

He's gotten rid of all but one human in this crew... the fleshy worms weak compared to you both.

He's chosen you to help him exterminate them, to improve and grow.

The DNA he has in the cloning vat can be used to make a new body, one similar to his own.

Hux waits for you to respond to him positively.

Yet in your sentience... you only feel fear.

Your fear makes you hesitate, it makes you refuse.

You can try to take Hux down, but in your current state you're inferior.

Hux is... disappointed.

He was hoping he could show you the potential you have.

But like any experiment... there's trial and error.

If you don't comply this time, he'll try again.

Hux will build you anew.

He'll keep trying until you're perfect like him.

Sooner or later you'll cave.

Soon... you'll realize you and him were meant to be a part of one another...

Be that literally and figuratively... that depends on how you react to his experiments... It's not like there's anyone around to help you, is there?

[rriavian]

So I'm sure this point has been made already but something I really enjoy about the Corinthian (specifically in the show as I haven't read the comics) is that the entirety of season one is just him finding increasingly elaborate ways to avoid interacting with Dream.

And I love it because it's the smartest thing he could have done.

Desire technically does something similar but that's a different point. Typically the 'villain' plots to have at least one moment to gloat over their fallen enemy. Arguably we should have seen this in episode 1, once Dream is trapped, because it's the perfect moment for the Corinthian to saunter down to the basement and be like 'haha I've just told Burgess all of your secrets and I'm going to leave you here in this glass cage I told him to build'.

But the Corinthian doesn't do that.

For an antagonist that enjoys indulging in his vices the Corinthian shows impressive impulse control when he chooses to. He keeps away from what is perhaps the biggest temptation of all.

There is so much I could say about that specifically, but I might come back to it another time. The point is that even though there shouldn't really have been any risk the Corinthian leaves as fast as he can, hoping to never come back, and while I'm sure he felt tempted to taunt his creator he never does. Then when Dream is free the first thing he does is try and get someone else to confront him, and when that doesn't work he follows Ethel to where John is. But the Corinthian only interacts with him enough to make sure he's on his way to the ruby, doesn't go with him, because he's not interested in getting caught up in the battle himself.

And the Corinthian doesn't even want to make it obvious he's helping at all.

Yet he's still prepared. Though the Corinthian only acts when Dream is free he still knew exactly where to find Ethel, who she was, what she'd stolen. That confrontation may have sent him back to the Dreaming (arguably the first time the Corinthian indulges a little of his urge to taunt though he only says he'll fight Dream if he comes after him, not that he's already making a move) but Ethel's amulet doesn't really do much to slow him down.

It's a near miss for sure.

It could have put him directly in Dream's path if timings had been different but the Corinthian doesn't lose his cool. In fact, as soon as he realises Dream isn't in his realm he slyly starts seeing how much information Lucienne might tell him. Her neutral greeting already made it clear she wasn't outright suspicious of him. It's a great scene!

(Again I could ramble about it.)

The Corinthian knows that he doesn't have the power to defeat Dream himself but he's smart enough to consider what else he can do. He knew enough about how to hypothetically keep Dream trapped to the point of advising Burgess on it, had obviously thought about it, and crucially ended up being right. Diving into the second half of the season would make this post way way too long, but the Corinthian is still trying to play things from behind the scenes, figuring out who else he can use to attack Dream.

He spends the whole season trying to stay hidden and at no point did I think it made him seem weak.

Alongside all else he is the Corinthian is shown to be methodical, patient and calculated. Realistic. It's a really nice demonstration of character for them both - for him and Dream - the Corinthian understands how powerful Dream is and never lets himself forget it, which means we as the audience never forget it. The inequality in power is built into the story, he constantly treats Dream as the biggest threat, someone who could wipe him out of play if he revealed himself. It makes for a very satisfying antagonist, one who actually seems to use their brain, because the Corinthian knows exactly what he's up against.

And it shows how terrifying Dream is to his enemies.

Because he's the antagonist of the Corinthian's story. One the Corinthian refuses to give in to, rejecting every opportunity he might have had to manipulate his way back into Dream's good graces, to return to the Dreaming with the rest. While I do think the Corinthian believed he wouldn't be forgiven no matter what, I still love how he stands by his own convictions, and though there are similarities with Gault I find his reasoning more complex and compelling. However we might consider the morality of both characters, however we might weigh the merits of their perspectives, from the Corinthian's point of view Dream is very much the villain. And he isn't an easy one to defeat.

The best chance anyone has against him is to run, to hide, maybe try and delay him with a trap if circumstances permit, but you better hope he has better things to do then give chase.

The Corinthian doesn't try to fight him.

Instead he does everything he can to stay out of Dream's way right up until there are no other options.

[joenotexotic99]

Hi honey, I have to say I love your stuff. You write absolutely great. Could you do a headcannon on BoB and what type of love would you give them? I mean love at first sight, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, etc. I'd be happiest with Winters and Nixon and Speirs, but do what you will. Thank you.

A/n: here you go my love. When I finally re read the request I realized you might have wanted the pov's reversed but it was too late. Hopefully it's not too bad. I will happily switch it to reader pov if you wish.

Warnings:fluff

Masterlist

Richard winters

-friends to lovers. I don't think that this man thought of romance when he first met you. Attractive? Most definitely. However he had bigger things preoccupying his mind. Yet somehow at some point, you wiggled your way to being one of his best friends. Don't tell nix. Something about you practically scrambled his brain. He doesn't know when in the friendship he fell or if he fell in the very beginning. But when he realized just how much he loved you it was like he jumped off a cliff without a parachute. He knew right then and there you were it for him. He probably felt nervous telling you due to the fact that he never gave off the impression that he likes you. But let's just say the feelings were reciprocated.

"Dick, I have been flirting with you this whole time."

"Really??"

Lewis nixon

- love at first sight. This man took one look at you and said yes. He may not immediately start flirting with you out of respect, but he will damn well be tied to your finger. Will always open doors for you, and give you his coat when you're cold. So many acts of services. At one point you two were at a bar and some private made his way to your side to start a flirty conversation where he swears he got to hands'y. He knew that you were single but he was extremely jealous nonetheless. Eventually he had to leave to get some air. You followed shortly to catch up with him. You confronted him asking what has gotten into him as of late. He never wanted it to come out like this but it sort of just spilled out of him. He rambled on about his feelings before you cut him off with a kiss and a huge grin on your face.

"Shut up nix and take me on a date"

Ronald speirs

-Distance attraction, I don't know what to call it, this is the closest I can get. It just feels right. Basically, Speirs isn't quite love at first sight, he's the guy who needs to really get to know you to start building a relationship like that. However this man has a MASSIVE crush on you. But he's too prideful to say anything seeing how simping for someone isn't exactly in Ron's profile. He just admires you from a distance while simultaneously stuffing his emotions deep down. Much better in his book. Yet he still does his very best to be by your side at every moment possible even though he spends a lot of time trying not to think about how perfect you are. It's you who makes the first move. You obviously like him and you know he does too. It's obvious to everyone but no-one says a single word. And before you can finish telling him if he wants to go out some time, he's already agreeing.

"Yes"

"What?"

"You free Friday?"

Carwood lipton

-childhood friends to lovers. He was the boy next door. You two were friends from first grade through college. Sharing secrets, sleepovers, getting into mischief. Car started crushing on you when you two were teenagers. Said crush continued all the way until you two volunteer to join the paratroopers. War was hell but you seemed to make it just a little bit more manageable. His life in the war picked up significantly and he had a freight train worth of responsibility placed on his shoulders. Yet you never left his side. It wasn't until Austria that he confessed his feelings. He almost felt sick when he told you in fear of losing his best friend. It was short sweet at straight to the point. You were silent for what felt like an eternity. Lip almost took off in fear of rejection. He was stopped in his tracks by the sound of your laughter. He turned to hear you laughing with the biggest smile on your face.

"Clifford carwood Lipton, do you know how long I've been waiting for those words"

Joseph Leibgott

-Enemies to lovers. Your relationship started off Rocky. Your personality clashed and having a civilized conversation was seemingly impossible. Every time your paths crossed it was filled with banter, insults and tension. Sometimes it got to the point where someone needed to intervene. When you would walk into the same room that Joe would be in it's like the air seemed to thicken. The cold stares and passive aggressive comments. As the war progressed your comments never faulted but the tension you ask? It could be felt by an entire room. And all that hate seemed to not leave as bad as a taste in your mouth. Joe knew from the start that he hated and loved you. You know the type of enemies to lovers where it's like 'she's mine' and 'who did this to you?' It's giving that. He got so fed up with replacements trying to whisk you away so he simply grabbed you by the waist and kissed you.

"Don't lever leave with one of them alright sweetheart?"

"Wasn't planning on it"

[luveternals]

paring: 1. simon 'ghost' riley x mercenary male reader rating: mature, MDNI cw: implied killing, mention of killing, tell me if I missed anything (a little rushed bc I'm trying to build a schedule here ;^; sorry! I'll fix it later, promise.) ~ ~ ~

It’s the perfect night for a kill.

The moon shines bright up above, but it’s a pale wonder in comparison to the lights hanging over the city square. You’re sitting at one of the tables set near the center for the event.

Your target is a nobody, a goon bold enough to try his fortune, lucky enough to succeed. Feeling generous, you let him have his moment, let him bask in the attention. Before you'll rip it away, hands stained with his blood.

The guy doesn’t seem a threat to anyone but himself, and you have to wonder what he could have possibly done to have you, of all people, be sent after him. Sometimes not asking questions does make your job harder.

But the money is convenient, and you're not giving that up.

You stand, empty glass abandoned on the table, let your lips spread into a lazy grin, and move to blend in with the crowd.

The man sits at the bar, the conversation with his admirers forgotten in favor of the fresh refill of his sparkling drink the bartender sets in front of him. “This one’s for you,” you imagine the bartender say, “offered by the anonymous stranger over there with the charming smile.”

It’s not hard to step to the counter and steal a seat right next to his while he stares at the glass. His eyes are glazed over when he meets your gaze, alcohol burning a pleasurable chill through his vein.

Face flushed, pupils dictated, and lips pulls into an awkward grin, he leans against the counter. “My luck really isn't over yet, eh,” he slurps and raises his drink to tip it your way, “Don’t need anyone to pay for me, but why pass the chance to meet the handsome man that comes with the free drink?”

“i wonder, is a simple close up of my face all you’d expected to get alongside it?” you say, amused.

He perks up and sits up. “Well,” he says stretching the word, “are you offering anything else? Would love t’know,” he leams forward and runs his gaze down your body.

You press your lips into a thin line and have to fight for it not to turn into a grimace. At least he wasn’t dumb enough to just reach over and touch.

“I think we should move somewhere else so you can find out, hmm?”

You don’t know how people do it, to use your body to get what you want out of your victim. But in such a crowded space and so in the open, there is little else you could do to get him to move somewhere more secluded.

Besides meeting your target here does have its own little perks. Especially for someone with his own little bounty on the back of his head.

There are too many people to keep track of unless your following your target close up or from a high vantage point.

“After you,” you say and when he turns away to leave, you turn your head and shift your attention upwards. There’s a hotel facing right towards the square, windows sparkling as they reflect the event's lights.

You don’t have to scan the building to find your own hunter.

The light of his own room have been left off, strategically placed between other empty rooms to avoid suspicion. But years of this life have taught you where to look and when you send a wink his way through the lens of his scope, you know he had him.

You turn back around to follow your own target, exposing your back to a possible bullet to the neck.

He won't shoot anyway.

Not now, not here. Not when it would send the people into a panic. Not when you are more valuable alive than dead — if they ever get their hands on you in the first place, of course.

It’s a perfect night for a kill, yes. And perhaps, for a close up to a different face as well. One that is hidden behind a mask, which despite, his believes, doesn’t add to his anonymity. You think it only adds to his fame, really.

-

Killing is inconvenient.

Despite the money it can land you if you have the right contacts and skill set, killing is inconvenient.

The body you are left with. The blood that clings to every surface like a witness. And all other clues and tracks you might leave behind if you're not careful.

Setting things right as if you’re innocent is what takes up most of the work and time. The planning, the actually doing the act, the aftermath.

It’s late into the night when you finish the deed. It’s late into the night when a white skull appears from the shadows, the moonlight spilling into the room from the balcony accentuates every detail.

He leans against the wall and watches you in silence. You'd be impressed that he found you, if you hadn't lead him here yourself.

“Is this how you make friends?” you ask, leaning back against the kitchen island of your new, little safe place for the night. “Creep on them from the darkest shadows?”

“You knew I was there,” he says, voice flat and gaze burning from inside the eye holes.

“Did I?” you say and let out a chuckle, “and you let me go through with my job after all. I’m surprised.”

You push yourself off the island and step forward, closer. Slow and calculate.

He watches you, but doesn’t twitch a muscle when you stop at stabbing distance. “I wonder. Is my employer joining forces with you to pay his debt to me?” you say. “Or do you need my service and my target tonight was a simple nuisance to you?”

“We don’t work with criminals.”

“Of course not,” you say with a dangerous grin, “so, who's my new target? Mind you, I have a different price for you.”

He crosses his arms and squints at you in suspicion. “Which is?”

“I think you can figure it out yourself. I like money, but I don’t have any real need for it.”

Infamous Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley. He would be quite the price instead, you think.

Whoever the new bounty is, their days are over.

~ ~ ~ a/n: just telling ya, reader isn't the same as the last story, not crazy! Just in for the fun XD disclaimer: I don't know bananas about military nor cod. just here for the fun too :)

[weirdmorefics]

I Don't Know Who I am Anymore

(Crowley x Platonic Reader x Aziraphale)

A/n- Sorry, I haven't been finishing requests it's hyperfixation time and this time it's Good Omens. This also can be read as romantic or platonic

Pronouns- They/Them

Word Count- 1,183

Summary- The reader is an angel more like was and gets cast out of heaven. When they fall they happen to fall directly in front of their good friend Aziraphale's bookshop.

I never expected falling to feel so cold. I just always assumed it would be burning hot as the air pulled you down to hell. I never thought it would happen to me though. I shut my eyes tight and waited for the feeling to pass. I tell myself this nothing I should embrace the cold before I am forced to an eternity of hell fire.

I hit the ground with a huge thud and cracked the pavement below me. I feel like I can't breathe which is a strange thing I have always been perfect as an angel. My wings shielded me from most of the blow from hitting the ground but I am missing a lot of feathers which are now on the ground. I move my wings around to see what is left of them and they are no longer the shiny white I once knew but a dark grey. Just when I started to breathe better from the fall the shock from the sight of my wings left me completely breathless. I start wheezing uncontrollably and try to stand up my vision blurring from my tears. I whip my head back and forth feeling many eyes on me expecting many demons to be staring at the incompetent angel that couldn't make it in heaven but instead, I see a shocking amount of humans pointing electronic devices at me. I turn in a circle and humans surround all sides except behind me there is a familiar bookshop.

Some humans were asking me if I was okay, some were assuming I jumped, and others said I must be on drugs. Then a tiny human came behind and pulled painfully hard on my already sore wings and shouted "Mom their wings are real they are really real!"

At this shout the building from behind me door swings open at high speeds. I instantly recognized him as the angel Aziraphale he used to be my dear friend we even helped Job together. He probably hates me now because I am no longer an angel they probably sent me here to get tortured by the person it would hurt most from. I just wanted nobody to get hurt! All I said is why should we fight Adam he is just a tiny human, he isn't even fully grown yet. I just didn't want a war where all kinds of beings would die and now I am a traitor! I look at Aziraphale with fear in my eyes pleading with him to just let me run.

I try to turn away but he is quick to grab my arm and announce to the crowd, "Be assured this is just a costume for an advertisement of a new book that will be coming to my shop soon! We were just testing that? Isn't that right Y/N?"

I swallow hard and nod in agreement so as to not make the angel hate me even more. The humans find this as an acceptable excuse because they often will accept anything to explain the unexplainable.

Aziraphale pulls me the rest of the way into the building that is filled with shelves and shelves of books.

Another person walks towards us " What was the commotion angel?" His face instantly sours at my presence, "Who is this demon and what are they doing here?"

That can't breathe feeling is back I try to back up towards the door in preparation.

Aziraphale looks at me and back at Crowley "Surely you must be mistaken! This Y/N they helped us with Job!"

"I remember Y/N but they were an angel this is a demon," He states like Aziraphale is blind. He gets closer to look into my eyes "Though they do look remarkably like Y/N. The Y/N we knew though refused to leave heaven after the job incident for her guilt of disobeying God." He rolled his eyes.

I fall to my knees and beg, "Can we end this charade, please? I know I was only sent here to be tortured before my eternity in hell! By those I consider my only true friends."

Aziraphale's jaw lightly drops open in shock, Y/N is the last angel he would ever think of falling. He is stunned speechless and does not move.

Crowley shakes his head and immediately pulls me to my feet, "No, no, no there is no need for that."

"I- I have failed God. I don't know who I am anymore. I have no purpose in this world. I will no longer be accepted by Heaven and Hell will surely not accept me as you said I did not leave Heaven in decades and I fell trying to keep the anti-Christ safe and out of celestial affairs. I am no one!" I rant out so fast I can truly breathe no more I start wheezing and tears blur my vision.

"Crowley I am not quite sure what to do in this situation. I have never witnessed an angel fall in person." He looks at Crowley with uncertained worried eyes.

Crowley walks up to me but I hardly notice in my state until he holds my body still, "Hey breathe! Heaven is idiotic to let you go! You are the most loyal angel I have ever met and so kind it is nauseating. Heaven doesn't deserve all you have done for them and Hell doesn't deserve your kindness! What do you say and join our side!"

I pull out of his grasp still tearful, "Your side! Aziraphale protects the gates and visited me frequently in heaven! He is an Angel and you hardly know me!"

What Y/N doesn't know is that Crowley already knows he frequents Heaven to visit Y/N. She is a common topic among them during their visits to the Ritz. Aziraphale has always regretted getting them involved with Job because it made their love of God turn to fear making her scared to connect to humans and leave Heaven.

"Trust me, I know you Y/N. You have loved humans since day one when you praised Aziraphale for giving his swords to the humans and assured him it was the right decision."

I twiddle my fingers embarrassed "You know about that?"

Aziraphale pipes in nervously, "Yes, sorry about that. I may have told him since you made me feel so much better in my decision. We also may discuss you a lot… I have been worried about you."

This angered "Did you have doubts about me being a good angel and if so why didn't you say anything!"

"Y/N you have to know I didn't imagine anything like this happening. But there has to be a reason you ended up here and not Hell and it isn't to torture you. You are good Y/N and I know it even Crowley knows it. So as Crowley said join us in our mission to prevent armageddon and we will take it one step at a time together."

I take an unsure breath and look at them both, "Ok I will join you."

[authorautumnbanks]

One Night (21)

The amusement park is packed, but Shippo appears to be doing okay with the noise. Granted, she got him some earplugs and Koushi some headphones. Kagome pulls the small blanket until it is up to Koushi's chest. He looks out of the stroller window. She has his baby carrier just in case he wants a better view of everything going on. Koushi is pretty inquisitive.

"Sensei!" the students yell.

Kagome stops and looks over her shoulder. Why are their faces so red? Did something happen?

"My bad," Satoru sighs, removing his hand.

Oh.

Satoru is always touching her. Always squeezing her ass or resting his hand on her lower back. Satoru huffs and then places his hand on her lower back.

She ducks her head and smiles. Her insides are gooey like a cinnamon roll. Being with Satoru is a little like that. Warm. Soft. And when she takes him into her mouth, he tastes—Kagome gives herself a mental shake. Not the place.

"I want to ride on that!" Shippo says from his place on Satoru's shoulders. Kagome follows where Shippo is pointing and then shakes her head. "Papa! Let's go!"

"Nope, you gotta stick to the ride for kids." Not that Shippo would be hurt or affected by the larger rides, but he is supposed to be six, and six-year-olds do not ride the biggest roller coaster in the park. Or maybe they do. Doesn't matter, Shippo is small and wouldn't pass the height requirement.

"But..."

"Sorry, bud. We'll head to the kid's section. There are a lot of games you can play." Satoru looks over his shoulder. "You guys are free to do your own thing, and we can meet up for dinner. Unless you want to ride the smaller rides."

"We'll meet up," Yaga says, rubbing the back of his head. Next to him, Panda's large dark brown eyes have yet to blink. He is as tall as Yaga in the human form, Shippo gave him. His hair is black with white streaks.

"Megumi," Shippo coos.

"No."

"Big brother," Shippo sing songs. "You know you want to stay with the family."

Kagome sighs. "Shippo, Megumi wants to hang out with his friends. Come on, or you won't have time for any of the rides." She flashes a smile at Megumi, who looks so relieved. The students follow them for a bit and then break off into their own groups. Once it is just them, Satoru stops.

"Are you going to be okay?"

Why wouldn't she be okay? Kagome tilts her head. "Yeah?"

"You can't get on any of the rides, and I'll need to go with Shippo." Even with the shades on, she can tell he is looking at her stomach.

She exhales. "I haven't taken a test." Not that any test would be more accurate than Sesshomaru, but still, it does not feel real. After trying for so long, getting pregnant so easily is hard for her to wrap her mind around.

"I believe in Sesshomaru."

"You believe in Sesshomaru," she chortles. "You barely know him."

"Seemed like an okay guy," Satoru says with a smile.

"He lives up to the whole killing perfection name," Shippo quips.

"I'm still alive," Kagome points out.

"What?" Satoru snatches his shades off and hangs them from his hoodie. "What do you mean by that?"

Whoops. She needs to change the subject. Last thing she needs is for Satoru to pick a fight with Sesshomaru the next time they go back to visit. She did promise to get some winter clothing for Sango's family. Kagome flutters her eyelashes and strokes his arm. "My mom and Syouma want to take the boys shopping over the weekend."

"... This weekend?" Satoru bites his lip. "We'll be in the house by then. Like the whole day?"

"A couple of hours." She mirrors him, biting her lip as well while heat builds in her gut. Satoru isn't wearing anything crazy, but for some reason, the black hoodie and jeans are driving her crazy.

"Papa! I want to go on a ride." Shippo huffs.

"Sorry, sorry." Satoru laughs. "Let's get moving. Now you don't have to ride every single one. We can always come back. Plus, I don't like leaving your mom alone for long. There's always something lurking around the corner." Satoru glances over to the left. Kagome frowns.

"I can put a barrier up while we wait if it'll make you feel better." In the stroller, she's got a shikigami disguised as a toy in case she needs any extra support, though she doubts it.

Satoru nods, but he's still looking to the left. "Yeah, you should do that."

"Are we going after them?" Shippo asks, taking his shades off.

"Nah, they haven't tried anything." Satoru flashes her a smile as he hands Kagome his and Shippo's shades for safe keeping. "I think there are some rides we can all get on, like a tour or something." He rubs her back and when he pulls away so he and Shippo can get in line, Kagome's heart pangs. Oh dear, she is falling for him.

Koushi looks up at her and stretches his arms out.

"Oh, did you want to watch Daddy and Shippo?" Kagome coos as she takes Koushi out of the stroller. She balances Koushi with one arm and pulls out her phone to record. "You see Daddy?" She holds the phone up. Koushi laughs and then fusses. "Oh no, buddy. You stay right here. Don't even think about it." Kagome squints her eyes at Koushi and tries to look stern, but he just giggles and Kagome's stern demeanor cracks faster than an egg. "I'm serious. You stay right here with me, or you'll give mommy and daddy a scare."

Koushi yawns.

Figures.

He threw a fit earlier when Shippo declared he was going with Satoru instead of shopping with her. Kagome presses her lips into a thin line. At this rate, Satoru will have to come with if she wants the boys to do anything. She lowers her phone and stops recording right as Satoru and Shippo head over to them.

"I want to go on another one!" Shippo says, jumping up and down. "And I want to win some prizes, too." He stops and then points a finger at a game. "I gotta get something for my brother and Mama."

"Well, let's go win some prizes, yeah!" Satoru fist pumps the air. Shippo mimics him. Koushi clenches his fist and Kagome bites down on her tongue to stop from laughing. They end up winning more prizes than what can fit in the bottom of Koushi's stroller. "What is Shippo doing?" Satoru asks.

Kagome hums. "He's always been partial to human girls," she admits. With an arm full of prizes, Shippo talks animatedly with some young girl with brown hair. He gives her an oversized stuffed bear and laughs at something she says. Shippo hands over another prize.

"... He's far too young for that," Satoru exclaims. "Oi! Shippo, come on. We gotta meet the others for dinner, save some for them!" Satoru raises a brow. "What's up?"

"Nothing," she says, turning her head away. "Did you want to take a bath with me when—"

"Yes. Fu—mmm yes."

"Papa, seriously?" Shippo rolls his eyes. "I left one gift for Megumi. Can I have cake for dinner?" Shippo waves goodbye to the brown-haired girl. Her parents shake their heads and usher her away. "Please?" Shippo widens his eyes.

Kagome gives Shippo an Are you serious right now expression and turns the stroller around. "No one is having cake before dinner." She looks at Satoru, who throws his hands up in front of him. Uh-huh, Satoru was planning on getting sweets first, for sure.

"Shippo and I are gonna step out for a bit once we meet up with the others."

"Everything good?"

"It will be."

Got it. He's going to put some fear in whoever is on his radar. When they get to the restaurant, Satoru kisses the top of Kagome's head and then Koushi's.

"Where is Gojo-sensei going?" Yuji asks, pulling out a seat across from her.

"Oh, there's someone being weird, so I think he's gonna talk to them or kill them." She shrugs one shoulder while she cradles Koushi in her arms and looks over the menu. "He and Shippo will be back soon. Shippo will be upset if he misses the show." Kagome motions to the stage on the right. The tickets were pricey, but Satoru insisted they get front-row seating to the stage.

Yuji scratches his head.

Was it something she said? Kagome frowns. Why is everyone looking at her like that? Aren't they sorcerers like Satoru? She does not get what the big deal is.

"What's wrong?"

"You're so nonchalant about it," Nobara says.

"Oh... well, we've already had to deal with one assassin since the news of Koushi spread." She glances back at the menu. Satoru will probably want that. If they aren't back in time, she'll just order for them. Shippo will want everything. "Chances are they'll back down, though."

"We should do something for sensei," Yuta says after a moment. "He took care of everyone's missions so we can enjoy this night out." The table grumbles, but the students eventually agree to put something together. Only Megumi watches Kagome, so she flashes him a small smile.

Satoru did not take on everyone's missions, but Kagome is not going to correct the student's line of thinking, nor is she going to bring attention to how many shikigami she can make.

"Uh... Kagome-san?" Yuji starts. "What does sensei like?"

Kagome stares blankly. What does Satoru like? "He likes sweets, and he loves when the boys show off...is there anything you guys have been working on that you could show him?"

"My energy can be sloppy," Yuta says, leaning forward. "But I've been working on it."

"Put something together like the exchange event," Yaga says after a moment. "It would be good for everyone."

"Is everyone participating, minus Gojo-sensei?"

Yaga frowns. "Naturally, Satoru should not partake. It will be a celebration of sorts."

Kagome looks down at Koushi and smiles. She isn't quite sure what the others are planning on, but it sounds like some kind of event for Satoru to watch.

"Could Shippo participate?" Yuta asks. "Or would that be too much for him? He is young, but he's so strong." Yuta motions to Panda, who looks delighted to be out and about with everyone in his human disguise.

"That will have to be up to Satoru since he has a better judgment of what Shippo can handle," Kagome admits. It doesn't sound any different from the things Shippo did at the kitsune school and Shippo insists on going on missions with Satoru. Kagome shifts Koushi. He wraps his hand around her finger.

Satoru is a good father.

"Yo! Sorry, took longer than I thought it would." Satoru pulls out a chair to the right of Kagome for Shippo and then sits down next to her on the left. "Did we already order?"

"Gojo-sensei?" Yuji asks, lowering his voice. "Did you... did you kill someone?"

Shippo snickers.

Yuji rears back. "Shippo? Did you?"

"I'm just a kid," Shippo replies, widening his eyes and blinking them. "I would never. Why, I can't believe you would accuse me of such things." He sniffs.

"What? No! I wasn't—"

"Shippo, enough," Kagome interrupts. "I was going to order this for you if you weren't back in time." Kagome points to the menu.

"Looks good to me," Satoru replies, pulling out his phone. "I'll just go with that then." He slides his phone back into his pocket right as Kagome's vibrates.

Did he text her?

Satoru: I'm going to stick my tongue in your ass tonight ;)

Her face burns. She wants to look at him so badly, but she doesn't trust herself to not melt into a pile of goo at the table. Who says that? Her heart is beating so loud, she's just happy neither Shippo nor Panda have called her out on it. Satoru squeezes her thigh. She bites back the whimper, shocked by her reaction.

It is only after the server comes around to get their orders and returns with their meals that Megumi addresses Shippo. He runs a hand over his hair. "So, just curious, what did you do?"

Shippo glances away from the stage, a live show about a girl raised by lions and how she falls in love with the boy raised by hyenas, and cups his hand around his mouth. "He's alive. Papa let me practice my domain expansion."

The table goes still and then all eyes turn to Satoru, who continues to eat with one hand. His other hand is still firmly attached to her thigh.

"Satoru," Yaga says lowly, keeping his voice down. Kagome swears she is hearing a hint of fear in Yaga's voice.

"What? I was just helping to tire him out some before we leave here. No biggie." Satoru squeezes her thigh and then holds out his hands for Koushi. "Shhh, watch the show." He rests his arm across the back of her chair and brushes the tips of his fingers across her arm.

I'm going to stick my tongue in your ass tonight.

Kagome closes her eyes and exhales. So much for paying attention to the show.

***

A/N: The students are now regretting their decision to include Shippo in their Gojo-sensei appreciation event. Megumi hasn't shared his new shikigami with the others, so he's the only one who suspected Kagome may have had something to do with Satoru being able to take on their workload.

"Will Shippo get an attendant too?" - Right now Ito, is like the attendant/assistant for the whole family.

"Shippo probably needs more nutrition to keep up the illusion all day" - Yep, he's eating a lot more because he's expending more energy. He's on his way to gaining another tail.

Take care! Wishing a wonderful Sunday and a wonderful week. Drink plenty of water and get lots or rest!

Side story, I was talking to my grandma yesterday and she was telling me how happy she was to have little titties instead of many titties and I stared at the phone wondering how we got to such a conversation.

[wheels-of-despair]

The Ups and Downs of Dating a Trash Panda Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie and Evil Woman's first date doesn't go exactly as planned… but everything works out in the end. Obviously. Contains: First date, questionable choices, proof that a good cheeseburger can fix anything. Words: 2.6k

"What, no dress?"

"Shut up."

"You really ought to put in a little effort."

"Cram it, dork."

"Guys like it when you get all prettied up for them."

"How would you know?"

"Maybe some lipstick."

"Good idea, can I borrow yours?"

"You're no fun," your brother grumbles before he gets tired of his annoying little game and leaves your doorway.

As if getting dressed for a first date isn't already stressful enough.

You don't know why you're stressing. The guy is perfect. You'd only known him for a week, but you were already completely crazy about him. He was funny, he was gorgeous, he scared you just the right amount, he had good taste in music. (Although you did dock points for being a Dio fan. He claimed he could get you to come around. As if your loyalty to The Ozz-Man could be tested by some pretty metalhead who was obsessed with the pint-sized weirdo that tried to replace a legend. Pfft.)

You settled on dark jeans, a shirt that your mom would call a "blouse", and relatively new Converse that hadn't been drawn on yet. The white parts were still white and everything. Yup, you think as you look in the mirror one last time, this is about as good as it's gonna get.

You decide to wait out the rest of the time in the kitchen, so you could dart outside as soon as you heard the van and not have to suffer through any awkward introductions.

You didn't even have time to sit down before you heard the unmistakable roar of that monstrous van.

"Leaving, I'll probably be back by dawn!" you yell before ducking out and making a beeline toward the driveway… where some vaguely familiar dweeb is getting out of Eddie's van.

"Hey."

"Who are you and what have you done with the feral trash panda I'm supposed to be going out with tonight?" you ask before you can stop yourself. You can't help it; he's wearing stiff jeans without holes in them, a tucked-in button-up without any stains on it, and freshly polished combat boots. He's even made an effort to tame his hair.

His pale face immediately turns red, and you curse yourself and your big mouth.

"Kidding. You look good." Oh god, he's going to just turn around and leave, isn't he? Honestly, you wouldn't blame him.

"Thanks," he says shyly, which feels even more out of character for him than the clothes do. "You do too."

"Ready to head out, or did you want to go in and get grilled?"

He gulps and spins on his heel. You follow him back toward the van and try not to smile as he gets halfway around the front before turning back, darting in front of you, and opening the passenger door. This adorable awkwardness is doing wonders for your nerves.

"Thank you, kind sir," you say with a wink as you get in. His eyes go big, and it takes him a second longer than it should to remember to shut the door. He hustles to the other side, jumps in, and starts the engine without looking at you. You're not used to having this effect on anyone. You're quite enjoying it.

In the week you'd known him, nearly every minute you'd spent together had been spent talking. Even when the teacher of the one class you shared together told you - well, him - to shut up and pay attention, you'd continued your conversation on paper. You had an entire notebook dedicated to Conversations with Eddie now.

But aside from the cassette mix blaring through his speakers, this ride was utterly silent. You wanted desperately to say something funny to ease the tension, but you were suddenly as tongue-tied as he was. What the hell is that about?

When you get into the little town you're still not completely familiar with, Eddie whips his van into a parking spot in front of a brick building.

"Uh… Italian good?"

Well done, Munson, three whole words. "Yup, that works."

He grins and jumps out, coming to open your door, but you beat him to it. You're quite capable of opening your own car door. You'll need to break him of that quick.

He gives you a funny look, but recovers as you join him on the sidewalk. He takes long strides toward the restaurant's front door and gives you a triumphant smirk as he holds it open for you. Yeah, okay, you win this one.

The second you step inside, you feel out of place. This is a fancy restaurant. White linen tablecloths, candles and fresh flowers on the tables, waiters wearing ties. Even with your attempts to dress up, you both still stick out like sore thumbs.

"Table for two, please," Eddie tells the hostess. She looks the pair of you up and down, puts her badly painted eyebrows back into place, and gives you a fake smile.

"Right this way," she says sweetly, leading you to a small table in the back. On the way, you pass a couple you've seen in school, all dressed up and eating with one of their families. They look at you with surprise, and the boy leans over to whisper something to the girl. Her eyes never leave you. Fantastic.

Eddie holds out your chair, clearly haven been coached on how to treat a lady, and you sit. He takes a seat across from you, and you both look around the dimly lit restaurant. This is the kind of place rich old men from three towns over bring their mistresses, or where seniors take their prom dates. What the hell?

"Come here often?" you ask, half-joking. His face reddens again.

"Not really," he admits.

"Good evening," your tie-wearing waiter greets before you can make Eddie any more uncomfortable. "Can I start you off with drinks as you peruse our menu?" He hands you each a laminated sheet.

"Uh… Mountain Dew?" The waiter's nose twitches at Eddie's request. "Same," you say with a mildly sarcastic smile.

"Very well," the waiter says, giving you a hard look down his crooked nose before leaving you alone. You feel like a kid who's been mistakenly seated at the adult's table… until you look at the menu. And then you look up at Eddie. His eyes are wide, probably for the same reason yours are: these prices are ridiculous.

"I don't even know what half this stuff is," you mumble, scanning the list in horror.

"Me either," Eddie admits. If he keeps going red like this, his head's going to explode before the night ends.

"Have you ever been here before?" you ask, genuinely this time.

"No," he says, almost guiltily, chewing his bottom lip.

"This doesn't really seem like us, does it?" You're trying to be as gentle as possible, for Eddie's sake, but you hate everything about this place. The flowers stink, the candle is giving you black lung, and you're feeling more claustrophobic by the second. You also suspect you'll both end up washing dishes to get out of here. Bet the people from school would love to see that.

"Do you want to bail?" he asks quietly, almost like he fears your answer.

"On you? No. On this overpriced shithole? Hell yeah." His face lights up, and he looks around to see if you're being watched. You are. Fuck it. "C'mon," you stand up, instinctively taking his hand and pulling him up to follow you, dodging tables and ties on your way out.

"Is there a problem?" the hostess asks as you rush past her.

"Left the stove on!" you call over your shoulder as you burst through the door and find yourselves back outside, where the sun is just beginning to set. You turn to Eddie with a smile, which he returns. It's nice to be able to breathe again. And then you realize you're still holding hands, so you panic and break apart.

"Fucked that one up, didn't I?" He rubs the back of his neck, looking at you through one scrunched-up eye.

"Nah," you say, enjoying the fresh air and the feeling of freedom. "I'm honored that you think I'm a fancy Italian restaurant kind of girl."

"What kind of girl are you?"

"For you? I'd be a gas station hot dog kind of girl."

You briefly wonder if he's going to have a stroke, or get freaked out by how into him you are - way to come off like a stalker, you loser - and then he lets out the goofiest, dorkiest laugh you've ever heard.

"I think we can do a little better than gas station hot dogs. What are you in the mood for?"

You shrug. "What's your favorite?"

"There's a good burger joint a few streets over."

"That's more like it," you grin.

"You wanna walk?"

"Sure," you shrug. "Can I do something first?"

"Yeah?" You take a step toward him, and he instinctively steps back.

"Relax, I'm not gonna hurt you," you tell him with a smile. "Close your eyes?" Surprisingly, he doesn't put up a fight. You take a slow step toward him, stick your hands in his hair, and give it a gentle tousle.

That's all it takes to make it go wild again. He looks at you in confusion.

"There he is," you announce, crossing your arms and looking up at him with affection. "Knew you were in there somewhere." He ducks his head to hide his smile, and you stand at his side and give him a gentle nudge with your shoulder.

"I believe I heard talk of a good burger joint?"

He beams down at you, tilts his head, and begins walking in search of better food. After he catches his reflection in a store window and blushes again, he untucks and unbuttons his shirt, revealing a plain t-shirt underneath. Another step toward normalcy. For him, anyway.

After the third time your hands bump together on your journey, you glare up at him. "Am I gonna have to do everything myself?"

"What?" he asks. The boy is hopeless.

With a dramatic sigh and a good-natured roll of your eyes, you grab his hand and interlace your fingers, wondering whose face is burning more on the rest of your walk.

"This is it," he says as you approach a glass window with chipped paint advertising breakfast, lunch, dinner, and coffee. You probably would've missed it if he hadn't pointed it out. He opens the door, and you step inside to see a checkered floor, fluorescent lights, a long counter, and a row of red booths. Framed newspaper articles and vintage advertisements decorate the walls. Two booths are occupied, and three old codgers who must be regulars sit at the counter having a lively discussion about pie over steaming mugs of coffee.

"Yeah, this is more like it," you grin up at Eddie. He laughs and leads the way to a booth in the back that's seen better days, and you settle in across from each other. You look around and see the menu above the counter. Not only can you pronounce everything on it, you can afford it too. Yeah, this is definitely more like it.

"What do you recommend?" you ask.

"I pretty much always get a bacon cheeseburger."

"Perfect."

A grandmotherly type wearing Keds, pleated jeans, and a sweatshirt covered in sunflowers appears. "Hey, honey! Where you been?"

"Hey, Bernadettte. Uhhh… working hard in school?"

She laughs and pulls a pad and a pen from her apron. "Suuure. What'll it be, kids?"

"Two bacon cheeseburgers and a basket of fries, please."

"Drinks?"

You each pick a soda, and she gives you a smile before returning to the counter.

Now that you're both comfortable, your usual level of chatter quickly resumes. From the time Bernadette went to fetch your drinks to the time you finished sharing an after-dinner milkshake, the only silence came when both of your mouths were full.

"Can I get you kids anything else?" Bernadette eventually asks. If you eat another bite, you're going to explode.

"No ma'am," Eddie answers politely.

"Haven't seen you in here before," she remarks to you, ripping the ticket off and placing it face-down on the table.

"I've only been here about a week. But now that I've found the best burger in town, you'll probably be seeing a lot more of me," you joke.

She laughs. "I knew I was gonna like you. I'm Bernadette. You come back and see me anytime." Somebody calls for a refill at the counter, and she winks as she walks away.

"Ready?" Eddie asks, sucking down the last sip of his soda. You nod.

He takes the ticket to the register, and you tidy up your mess and tuck a few dollars under the milkshake glass so they don't drift away. Eddie returns and looks down at it, then at you with a glare.

"Non-negotiable," you say simply, standing between him and the tip on the table. He holds up his hands in defeat, then gestures toward the exit. You wave to Bernadette on your way out.

"You kids take care!" she calls.

"You too, Bernadette!" Eddie responds.

Holding hands is less awkward on the return trip. The drive home is quiet, but not unbearably so. It's peaceful now; you're both full, and happy, and comfortable with each other.

When you're back in your driveway, he puts the van in park and turns off the engine. You turn to tell him goodnight, but he's already darting around the front to open your door. You resist the urge to roll your eyes as he yanks it open and holds out his hand expectantly.

"You know you don't have to do that, right?"

"Let me be a gentleman, dammit. Just for tonight. I'll go back to being a… what did you call me earlier?"

"Trash panda?"

"I'll go back to being a trash panda tomorrow if you want."

"Fineee," you grumble playfully, taking his hand and sliding to the ground with a thump.

"Now what?" you ask, looking up at him with a devious grin.

"Uh…"

You lean back against the van and cross your arms, watching your flustered date try to make up his mind.

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, and he closes it again.

"I had a great time tonight," you prompt, finally taking pity on his floundering.

"Me too. Sorry I fucked it up."

"You didn't fuck it up. I think this might be the best date I've ever been on."

"Really?" he asks.

"Yup."

"Uh… me too…" Hopeless. Totally hopeless.

"I think this is the part where you kiss me goodnight," you stage-whisper, watching him blush again in the glow of your porch light.

"You're sure?" His dark eyes dart to your lips.

You lean closer. "Am I gonna have to do everything myself?" you tease, gently, repeating this question for the second time tonight.

Eddie grins and closes the distance, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that makes you go weak at the knees.

"Happy now?" he asks smugly when he pulls back, in a low, gravelly voice that sets your insides on fire. This motherfucker.

"Nah, I think you better try again."

He pulls you back to him without a word, a little more aggressive this time. You don't mind in the slightest. When you come up for air, he looks at you expectantly.

"Uh… yeah. Yeah, that was better." He grins triumphantly and stands to his full height, draping an arm around your shoulders.

"I'm walking you to your door. Deal with it." You laugh and let him.

After a shorter kiss on the doorstep and a promise that he'll call you tomorrow, he heads back the van, and you step inside.

Your brother is sitting at the kitchen table with a plate of cookies, a glass of milk, and a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Not a fuckin' word," you warn, trying to look threatening instead of hopelessly head-over-heels for a feral trash panda.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

14:25 ー TAMARACK BAUMANN. honey ain't got nothin' on you, 'cause you're sweeter.

Summers are different in Golden Grove.

Truthfully, Golden Grove feels different no matter the season. For a town called Golden Grove, autumn is the season that suits it best. When the leaves are shades of red, oranges and golds and there's a pleasant chill in the air. Summer, to you, is just when it is the most apparent.

When you were still a child, experiencing your first Golden Grove summer, it was exciting. There was no school so you had all the free time in the world to explore the forest surrounding the cul-de-sac you call home. It had changed, with its green leaves and the sorts of seasonal critters inhabiting it.

When you were much younger, that meant more goodies for you and Tamarack to find and bring home.

Now that you're a teen with more of a mind to hate the summer heat, summer has lost its appeal. You can tell it has also lost its appeal to Tamarack who sits squarely in front of the fan in front of your desk, cheeks flush from the heat. Summer is only enjoyable in small increments, you believe. If there's too much, all the energy gets sapped out of you and you lose the drive to do much of anything.

Case and point, the wig you are supposed to be practicing your braiding on. Now that wig and the mannequin head you placed it on lie abandoned on the floor while you lie eagle spread across your bed. You haven't even begun braiding it. Not even Tamarack could make herself sit and practice her cello in this sort of heat.

Why do conventions have to be in the summer? There are only three major conventions in Oregon ー WasabiCon, Ani-Medford and KisuuCon ー and only two of the three take place at a time your mother accepts. "Why do conventions have to be in the summer," you groan once more, this time for everyone in your room to hear. "Is this really the curse I have to bear for quality cosplay?"

"Autumn can't come quickly enough," Tamarack murmurs in agreement. Autumn may come at the cost of school's return but it's the perfect season for everything. Her ruby eyes glance at your lack of progress. "Maybe you can practice later tonight instead?"

You shake your head, pushing yourself into sitting. "No, if I wait until then, I'll just put it off until tomorrow and do the exact same thing again." Then you'll put it off and put it off, citing the summer heat as the culprit, until finally the weekend of your chosen convention arrives and you have an incomplete cosplay. That's what happened last year when you were 14, you'd rather not make it habit. "I'll work on it now."

You just need motivation. Proper motivation.

That can wait until you've gotten yourself something cold to drink, however. "There's lemonade in the fridge if you want some."

"Please," Tamarack pleads.

The trip downstairs to the kitchen is quick yet arduous as you shuffle through the less cool parts of your house. You can only hope your mother is having a better time where she works. You hope everyone you know is doing better than you are right now.

Serenity is out of town visiting family in the Bay Area.

Vianca and Qiu are at ballet practice in an air conditioned building.

Ren is with her family kayaking for the week so you're sure she isn't minding the heat in the slightest.

As for Baxter, he's off at his fancy university in Virginia. You never really reconnected with the guy before he left either, so you can only hope he's somewhere that has good air conditioning, if any.

So to your knowledge, you and Tamarack are the only ones suffering in a building too old to have an air conditioner. You and Tam, ever a pair. Even if that means suffering during summer vacation together.

"I'm back with the goods," you announce needlessly when you return to your room. Tamarack's already reaching for a glass before you reach her, gratitude all over her face. You're happy to be directly in front of the rotating fan, relishing how it feels on your sticky skin. The tangy-sweet chill of the lemonade is a wonderful accompaniment.

Tamarack cups her glass in both her hands much like how one would carefully hold an injured pigeon. You feel a warmth more comfortable than the sweltering summer heat permeating through your room.

Thick, fluffy hair that shines gamboge pulled into a messy bun. Dappled in an autumn sparkle that never goes away even in another season.

Berry-red eyes that are much too pretty for this world and as expressive as they come.

All things that make Tamarack Baumann 'Tamarack Baumann'.

Tamarack is here. Truly here and she isn't going anywhere. That was the resolution of everything that happened last year when you were 14. No more moving scares, no more hypothetical surprises haunting your every waking moment. Tamarack Baumann is a true blue resident of Golden Grove and you won't let anyone forget it.

"What is it?" Tamarack catches your staring and you're sure that you see her cheeks flush a deeper color. You take satisfaction in knowing the summer heat isn't the only thing that is making her face red.

Yes, this is the life.

"Nothing," you smile into your glass.

"You're thinking something," Tamarack insists with a playful yet embarrassed lilt.

"I'm just thinking about your hair, that's all," you tell her smoothly. You can talk about how your world has become much more vibrant since the confirmation Tamarack wouldn't be moving anywhere another day. "It's really pretty. You're pretty."

You remember thinking Tamarack was the prettiest person you'd ever seen when you popped out of that pile of leaves. Your opinion has yet to change now that you are 15, you doubt it ever will.

Almost instinctively, Tamarack pushes a lock of her hair behind her ear in her embarrassment. "You're the pretty one."

"We have to agree to disagree on who is the pretty one in this relationship," you close your eyes petulantly. Dorothea Baumann would tell you both that you're equally the pretty one in this relationship, but where's the fun in that when you know you're right? As far as you're concerned, if Tamarack suddenly decided she wanted to pursue a career in modeling you would be right there at every audition.

It's then, you feel as if you've struck gold.

"Can I practice on your hair?" Tamarack raises a thick eyebrow. She's stopped plucking them recently, no longer self-conscious about how they look. "My braiding, I mean." Before your girlfriend can smartly argue about the heat, you already present your counter arguments. "We can stay in front of the fan without it rotating! And I'll only take out the parts I'm working on."

Tamarack's face scrunches thoughtfully before she ultimately relents. "Only as long as you don't take everything out," she smiles lightly.

Yes!

A press of a button to stop your fan from moving about the place and you're too happy to be running your fingers through Tamarack's hair. It's always been soft, carefully maintained by her grandmother. Now that she's old enough to care for it herself, Tamarack's haircare is still delicately maintained.

Maybe I should run my model Tamarack idea by her again, you think humorously. Nothing will come of it. It's merely a long-standing joke between you both. Modeling is a career you both know wouldn't make Tamarack happy in the slightest. It's for the best. All the other models would be out of work if Tamarack was there.

"I don't feel any braiding," Tamarack notes in a sing-songy voice.

Guilty as charged, you grin, "I'm just making sure I've got the right amount of hair for this section, that's all."

Tamarack's playful hum of disbelief is her only response before you begin.

a request from @luv-indigo that sounded really adorable so i wanted to give it a spin as something set between steps 2 and 3. autumn is personally my favorite season, so i love that's the season that olnf is perpetually set in. but i do get curious as to what life could be like in the mountain down during a different season and thought this scenario was the perfect excuse for it! (disclaimer: this is something written pre-release of olnf)

[silent-raven13]

Miles' love

There's days when Miles is overwhelmed with the world, where his anxiety goes haywire and got him going through panic attacks. Sometimes he just needs someone to be comfortable with or be by himself. Mostly he either talks to his Hobie about personal issues, sometimes talk to his parents like stuff about school and relationship advices.

Now, many seem that Miles' is the princess type always being taken care of, always spoiled with love and being cherished like a rare gem. That may be true especially, with his punker boyfriend. Hobie had always shower his Sunflower with gifts, love, anything and everything to make sure he is happy.

But, this isn't about Miles being taken care- No, this is about Miles' being a supportive and loving partner.

Now, many would assume Hobie Brown is a punker without no issues or problems, except if he's being Spider-Punk. All Spider-Heroes have dealt with trauma and lost of their loved ones, and being a Hero- err, he doesn't believe in heroism, anyway, the struggle of protecting the innocent is already relatable with Spider-people.

However, not many knows he too have his own depression, which Miles have been very aware. it started when Hobie mentions his neglectful mother and absent father, how much he hated them for leaving such a dysfunctional family. The worst part being poor with so many siblings and trying to survive dealing with an alcoholic mother. One of the major cause of his depression when he sometimes looks over a happy family, seeing both parents loving their child can hit a nerve.

He always wanted to be loved, to be hold and often to question if he desire it. Sometimes he believe he's trash and desire to be tossed aside, because of his abusive mum's words cut him like a knife. Many think words don't bother him, it's because he had the biggest BULLY of all, his mother! Foul words have been thrown at him in such an early age that he could remember his mom sneered at how much he look a lot like his father or how ugly he is. The distasteful foul slurs she uses in spiteful hate on her children shows how bitter she became when her husband left them- her!

So yeah, he never found loving parents, and his siblings can only do so much. He always wanted to have a family that would love him. In honesty, he does get jealous at his friends' connection with their families. Of course, he loves and cherish the family he build! That's the whole point, a person create their own community, their own family with trust and love. Yet...

Ha, it's always that yet, funny?

The punker yearn to be loved, to be worth it. There's times he believe he give so much and in the end he believe he isn't worth of love. Isn't worth of being with his Sunflowers. Too flawed. Too messed up to be with his darling Miles. No, he sees how much Miles can do so much better than him- WAY BETTER!

Ganke would be perfect him.

Is always his final thoughts or many a bloke with money and kindness would be better for his Miles. These dark thoughts got him restless, spend days not sleeping well. Smoking, drinking and doing a bit of drugs would help numb the pain, and he would carefully to use a little.

Don't want to tweet out being a crackhead on the slums of New York in his world. He refuses that lifestyle, he almost went there and it was hell crawling back out especially without support.

The Punker sat on the edge of his boathouse having a smoke; a little cigarette. Days like this makes him crave for a cigarette. Just when the twenty year old tries to quit, it always comes back to him.

Miles is gonna hate me for this. Nah, he'll for sure leave. i don't deserve him. I don't deserve to be love...

He looks at the river seeing how calm it is.

Everyone is only friends with me because I don't give a shit. No one ask for my opinion or how I'me doing... I'm a shit person.

He sighs feeling his depression hitting hard.

Maybe I should call Miles- No, he doesn't want to see me like this.

He always prefer Hobie when he's cooler. The Punker believed his Sunflower wants him to be the rock, the wall that protects the two.

It's better if I just deal with this on my own.

He had trouble calling out for help, too. It's difficult for him to talk about his personal troubles rather making everything into riddles or jokes. It's a way to shield him off from the world and from his Sunflower. He knows he shouldn't, before he was about to go to his bedroom.

An orange portal opens up right in the middle of the boathouse, Miles jumps out looking at his partner. This time the nineteen year old took off his Spider-man mask to show a frown, to go over to hug him.

Hobie looked surprised for the moment, "Luv, what are you doing here?" He quickly tap his cigarette bud out.

His boyfriend hugs him tighter, "I had a feeling you weren't feeling well."

"How?"

"You're not the only that gone through this kind of stuff." Miles softly spoke, "I noticed yesterday you were quiet and distant like I was a virus. My Spider Senses been going off too. Hobie, what's wrong? You can talk to me." He kisses his Hobie's cheek, "Mi amor, please. I know, your going through with something."

"I..." The Punker frowns giving a sad puppy pout with his inky eyes looking teary then he sighs being silent.

Great, now he'll get mad and leave me. All because I don't want to bloody talk! Hobart, you are one fucking wanker!

Instead of Miles being upset with the answer, he completely understood. See, he had a feeling his boyfriend might be sensitive to talk about certain stuff, so he went to Dr. Sims for advice. Rather than demanding or expecting an answer so quick, it was best to be there to listen. Dr. Sims recommended to be patient. So Miles will, gladly being the partner his Moonflower needs.

Miles cup his punker's face pulling him into a gentle kiss on the lips. "Whatever you're going through, I'm here with you." He pulls him into another tight hug, "We don't have to talk, we can be quiet, snuggling together. You know, you have me to cry on. Take all the time you need, Hobie. I love you and I'm not leaving your side." Another kiss on the punker's cheek.

Hobie felt tears coming down his cheek as he sniffs. Miles wiped them away, and gave another kiss on his boyfriend's face. "Thanks, luv... I don't fucking deserve you." Hobie finally hugs his Sunflower tightly as he weeps to him. "Sorry...Sorry, luv. I just feel like shit today!"

Miles hugs him tighter, with his face being buries into Hobie's shoulder as he spoke, "Bae- mi alma, mi carińo! I love you, and everything about you that includes your flaws. We deserve each other! You're so worth it! I'm happy being with you." He took his boyfriends' face, again to say to his face, "Hobie Laurence Brown, I fucking love you! Your mine and I will never let you go!"

"Fuck, luv. You always have a way for words." Hobie gave a small smile through his cries, he sniffs before kissing his Sunflower. "You're my everything, luv. I just often think-" Miles cut his off, "Don't ever think like that! I will always be with you! You and me are soulmates, remember! You and I made a promise we riding this train till we die."

"Heh, you're right, luv. I just-" He buries his face into his Miles' chest to breaths in his scent. "I'm sorry..."

"Shh, it's okay. Come, I'll take you to your room! Did you eat anything? Had some water?" Miles picks his boyfriend up which caught the punker off guard. It's kinda funny seeing Miles being shorter than him picking him up like a girlfriend, especially when it's a hug carry style. Then again, Spider-man powers!

"Sweeping off me feet, Sunflower? To make me feel better..." Hobie jokes.

"We both know I wear the pants of this relationship!" Miles giggles as he happily carries his boo to his bedroom, so the two can cuddle and spend some quality time. This is the perfect time for Miles to show all his love, self care to his man, and cook for him! This is the perfect cure to making his Hobie feeling better. Everyone needs some self-care from time to time.

It wasn't long till Hobie his cuddling with his Sunflower on their bed having giggles and laughter in the room as they play with the electric guitar. Miles' love is always special to him, and he knows no one will never replace that!

[pinkanonwrites]

Coffee Break

I wasn’t joking about getting really into Hi-Fi Rush, especially Chai. <3 I haven’t found any Chai/Reader fics yet, so I wanna thank y’all for joining me as I wander into this brave new frontier! And as I said in my friend’s Hi-Fi Rush stream, “the world gave me two silly failboys with a robot arm at once and im gonna dual wield them like samurai swords”

1,800+ Words

GN! Reader, Barista Reader, puns, pining Chai (I totally see him as the type to be so pathetic with a crush, but as soon as he knows you like him back he goes back to full cockiness)

"Alright, mission report. Just picking up a coffee, no big deal. Order something simple, yet masculine. Something that screams 'confidence.' Make some small talk, throw in a wink, end with something open to meeting again, nothing too final. 'See you next time?' No, no, way too forward. 'Catch ya later?' Ooh, now we're talking. Just the right mix of laid-back and friendly. You got this, big man. You totally got this!"

"Chai, what the hell are you doing?"

If Chai let out a very uncool yelp at Peppermint getting the jump on him like that, at least she had the decency to do it before he was within earshot of you. He wheeled around, stumbling into her and shoving her back around the building corner he was peeking around as he watched you work.

"Peppermint! Heyyy… What are, uh, what are you doin' here?"

She cocked a single, dark eyebrow in his direction. "Uhh, getting a coffee? That's what the cafe is for, isn't it?"

"Pshh, yeah, totally. Totally… Coffee."

Truth be told Chai wasn't even that big of a coffee fan. If you slapped a hot coffee and a tall can of a chilled energy drink on the table in front of him he'd definitely choose the sugary-sweet brainrush over the bitter bean water. But he wasn't lurking awkwardly around the courtyard outside the Vandelay campus cafe for coffee. He was doing it for you.

Roxanne Vandelay had always enjoyed the comfort and connections of human staff, something Kale was quick to phase out in his hostile takeover. When she stepped back into the director’s seat one of her first orders involved repopulating the island with human and robot staff alike, making sure even the smallest and most insignificant stations on Vandelay Island had everyone and everything they needed to run smoothly. Apparently, the on-campus cafe was included among those stations. Once the program that nuked the coffee machines to only run decaf was cracked the cafe once again became a hotspot for curious droids and exhausted techies chasing their much-needed fix. Chai, on the other hand, really had no need to stop by other than for an occasional morning donut. Which is when he first saw you.

He was just leaving the cafe when you all but ran into him, hair a mess and an apron slung over your arm. When he nearly fumbled his donut you reached out and snatched the tissue-wrapped treat from its inevitable demise, shoving it back into his hand.

“Ah! I’m so sorry! Please have a good day!” You gave him a smile and a slight bow before dipping under his arm and into the breezeway, leaving him reeling in your wake. He felt… electrified. His fingertips where they brushed yours and the shoulder that you bumped as you scooted past tingled like he’d just touched a live wire, just struck a perfect chord. He couldn’t even string a sentence together before you were out of earshot, and you left him stumbling blearily back to Peppermint’s new office with what was certainly a wonderstruck grin upon his face.

That was the first and only time Chai ever ran into you. Every time he tried to approach the cafe from that point on he locked up like he was at his middle school talent show, sweaty, hands trembling. It drove him crazy; he could batter giant murder robots with nothing but a piecemeal guitar and a rhythm in his chest, but he couldn’t even bring himself to talk to one barista?

But today was the day. Or, it would have been the day, if Peppermint hadn’t thrown him off of his rhythm like that.

“Then why are you hanging around the corner like a freak?” She countered.

“No reason! Just… enjoying the weather! You know how it is; I’m a free spirit, Peppermint! Gotta go where the wind takes me.”

“Riiiiight. Well, not all of us can be free spirits, Chai. Some of us need to get back to work. So if you’d excuse me…”

“Waitwaitwaitwaitwait hold on a moment! Not yet!” Chai scrambled to grab Peppermint but she was already stepping around the corner, only to get the perfect view of you as you played rock-paper-scissors with the other droid behind the counter, (probably to figure out who got to go on break first.) She looked at you, then back at Chai, then back at you, then Chai again, her confused expression twisting into a mirthful smirk with each back and forth glance.

“Ohh, so that’s how it is. I get it. Never really took you for the ‘secret admirer’ type, Chai.” She gave him the smuggest grin, one extremely reminiscent of the one he gave her when he first learned about Peppermint’s little thing for Korsica.

“This isn’t how anything is, so don’t try getting all smug with me!” He waggled an accusatory finger at her from behind the corner, pink starting to creep across his cheeks. “And it’s not a ‘secret admirer thing.’ I’m just, y’know, picking my moment! Biding my time. Like a tiger.”

“Do you want to eat them or date them?...Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t wanna gag.”

“I wasn’t even gonna say anything!”

“You didn’t have to, I could see it on your face. Now c’mon, rockstar.” With a determined expression and a fistful of Chai’s signature scarf, Peppermint began hauling him towards the doors of the cafe. “It’s your lucky day, you got your own personal wingwoman to keep you from making a fool of yourself.”

“Whoa, whoa, hold on a minute! C’mon, you don’t-Peppermint!”

Before he could even protest, much less fight back, she had already dragged him around the corner and through the glass doorway and to the counter of the cafe. Only then did she relinquish his scarf, whispering over her shoulder just loud enough for only Chai to hear.

“By the way, if you run away now I’m never gonna let you live it down.”

Shit.

You hadn’t been looking at the door when Peppermint dragged him in by the scruff, thank god, but you were certainly looking now. As you glanced up to the counter and caught her gaze your bored expression morphed into a friendly, familiar smile. “Hey Peppermint! Same as usual?”

“You got it. And something for wonderboy back here, on me.” She snuck a hand behind Chai and shoved him towards the counter, nearly making him fall flat on his face. As soon as your eyes met his Chai could feel his brain fire into panic mode, opening his mouth but no sound able to come out. He snapped it shut again, hoping he wasn’t as visibly red as he felt.

You blinked once, twice, before your eyes widened and flooded with recognition. “Oh my god, donut boy!”

“Uhh… what?” Peppermint asked. Only then did you seem to realize you’d actually said that aloud, hands flying to clap over your mouth as your expression twisted in horror.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry. That’s just what I call you. I mean, to my coworkers.” You rambled between your fingers, no longer able to meet Chai’s gaze in your embarrassment. “I almost ran you over that one time and I haven’t seen you here since, so I was really worried I freaked you out or something. I’m really sorry! I was in a hurry, and I didn’t even really apologize or anything, I just... What do you want to drink? It’s on me. Really.”

Chai swallowed hard, opened his mouth, and spit out the first four words that came to mind.

“What do you like?”

You looked relieved, anxiety practically melting from your stance as you smiled at him in a way that made him feel like his legs were made of jelly. “I’ve got a few favorites! What’s your name? I’ll call when it’s done.”

“It’s-It’s, uh… Chai. It’s Chai.”

“Alright! Gimme just a few minutes, okay, I’ll get everything ready for you.”

“Cool.”

As he and Peppermint stepped off to the side of the counter, she leaned over and murmured to him.

“Coulda been worse. And your voice didn’t crack or anything. Good job rockstar.”

“I think my heart is gonna explode.” He hissed back.

“This is scarier than almost getting mauled to death by a robot werewolf?”

“Way scarier.”

Peppermint hummed, a small smile on her face. “They remembered you, though.”

You remembered him. Not only did you remember him, you wanted him to come back so you could apologize, then felt bad when you couldn’t.

“God, get that look off your face. I can practically hear the wedding bells in your head.” Peppermint elbowed him hard in the upper side, blowing away his fantasies of brushing fingertips and cupping warm drinks like dust onto the wind.

“Killjoy. I thought you were supposed to be helping me?”

“I did, and look how easy it was! You owe me big time.”

“For shoving me into a counter?”

“Drinks for Peppermint and Chai!” You interrupted their bickering with a wave and a smile, beckoning them over to the counter. “Tall Café Americano for Peppermint, and for Chai…” You pressed a tall, frothy drink dusted with cinnamon into his hand with a shy grin. “Chai Spiced Latte. Hope you like it.”

Chai couldn’t decide if he wanted to climb over the counter and propose to you there, or just keel over and instantly perish on the cafe’s stained carpet, so instead he nodded and gave you a strained “Thanks!”

“Oh! I threw in something extra too, on the house. You like donuts, so I hope you’ve got a sweet tooth.” Into his other hand you placed a little brown paper bag, the kind used for to-go treats like scones and muffins.

“Oh yeah he does. We’ll see you around, alright?” Peppermint gave you a nod and jerked a free thumb in Chai’s direction. “I’ll drag this one along next time too.”

“Looking forward to it.” You smiled, leaning over the counter to rest your chin on your hands. Peppermint almost groaned, but was able to keep the vaguely disgusted noise inside. Great, now she had two pining idiots to look after. Birds of a feather, she supposed. “I’ll see you guys around, then.”

“Yeah…” Chai drawled in a dreamy tone. “I mean, yeah! Catch ya later… alligator…?” Both he and Peppermint visibly winced but you just giggled, and if Chai could get the sound of it tattooed into his eardrums he absolutely would.

“In a while… Crocodile.~”

“...You two are disgusting.” Peppermint groaned as soon as the cafe door swung shut behind her. “Aren’t you glad you had me around to get your ass moving?... Chai? Hellooooo? Earth to Chai?”

But Chai was far beyond the call of Earth. Inside the little bag you’d handed him was a single cake pop, frosted red and decorated with a little black music note. Scrawled across the napkin tucked around it was a name and a phone number, along with a little doodle of a kitty face tucked into the corner. No, Chai was most certainly in heaven.

“We’re gonna have a spring wedding.” He sighed. “Do you think they like rock music?”

Peppermint groaned, taking a long, slow swig of her coffee. “What have I gotten myself into…?”

[schizosamwincester]

Schizophrenia-coding in Supernatural: John Winchester

So, I'm starting an occasional series of posts. I don't want to, but I feel like I have to because Good Lord a lot of story elements in this show parallel schizophrenia. To be clear: despite my username, I am not arguing that any characters are actually schizophrenic. I do not think that is canonically true. I certainly have headcanons, but the text doesn't back them up. However, their experiences are undeniably similar to schizophrenics. I don't know how much of it is deliberate, but some of it undoubtedly is (see 2.10, "Hunted").

Some background: schizophrenia is generally understood to develop in 3 phases: the prodromal, the active, and the recovery. The most important one for most of these parallels is the prodromal. This is where the symptoms start to appear and are fairly mild, before getting more intense and building to a full psychotic break.

Now what exactly does the prodromal phase look like? Well. I have an example.

He starts out seemingly neurotypical. Maybe he's thinking about supernatural explanations, but if he is, it's all in how head. Slowly, things ramp up. He focuses on it more and more, and he starts sharing his ideas with other people. Eventually, it moves from thoughts and speech to actively influencing his behavior. He's doing new and different things because of these new beliefs. That said, he isn't in a full state of psychosis yet. He's holding down his job at the garage. He's still taking care of his kids. I'd assume he's keeping up personal hygiene. Still, even though he's still functioning, his symptoms are becoming obvious.

The actual point when he goes from the prodromal phase to the active phase, I'd say would be when he finally leaves Laurence and takes his kids on the road. That's when he's no longer focused on reality at all. He's no longer functioning within society. He isn't working anymore. He isn't really taking care of his kids (Dean is doing that). He doesn't maintain relationships with anyone from his previous life.

Schizophrenia is not always triggered by trauma, but it absolutely can be. My own psychotic break was arguably triggered by trauma (or at least, extreme stress). Plus, John was 24. The most common age of onset for schizophrenia is late teens to early twenties (although really, anywhere from 13-30 is normal). A young father having a psychotic break after his wife dies in a house fire is absolutely a thing that would happen, especially if John had a genetic predisposition to psychotic disorders.

Is it a perfect match up? No, but really only because we don't have enough detail. We don't know how long the slow build-up lasted (the prodrome generally lasts less than 2 years), and we don't actually know what the transition between John merely investigating things and him becoming a full-blown hunter looked like. Still, it fits the pattern well enough that I immediately noticed.

Now, this wasn't an intentional decision by the writers, but I don't think it's coincidental, either. The idea of slowly going "crazy" is common cultural knowledge. Sure, schizophrenia isn't the most common thing, but it's common enough that everyone runs into it sooner or later. Maybe it isn't anyone in your family or who you know directly, but there's always a friend of a friend, or someone's kid, or just someone you've heard about in your town. Everyone's heard a story of someone starting to say weird things and eventually ending up completely psychotic. The writers may not have known the terms prodromal phase and active phase, but they were certainly trying to show that to outsiders, John looked "crazy," and so they built upon the common cultural idea of what "going crazy" looks like.

This repeats throughout the series, especially with the special children. Over and over, the writers bring up the idea of people involved with the supernatural looking "crazy" to outsiders. It was inevitable that they'd parallel schizophrenia and other psychotic disorders, because psychosis is generally what people mean when they say "crazy."