#how to make hummingbird nectar

[doctormead]

DP x DC prompt: Beekeeper Danny

Ooookay, Danny has moved to Gotham for <insert reason here> and is faced with a problem. Yes, Gotham has higher levels of ambient ectoplasm than your average city, but it's nowhere near those of Amity Park who has a goddamn artificial hell mouth smack in the center of it. Also, the ectoplasm which IS there is contaminated with some nasty shit that makes Danny feel ill when he takes too much of it in. Having his friends back in Amity Park ship him flasks of pure ecto on the sly is difficult to say the least, so he starts thinking about ways to both concentrate and purify Gotham's ecto so he's not one shipment interruption from being in really bad shape.

He get's his solution from Sam. On his bi-weekly video call with her and Tucker, she gets to ranting about bee conservation. Tucker makes a joking comment about honey being basically bee vomit, and Sam tears into him saying "That is a gross oversimplification at best and outright bee-slander at worst!" This perks Danny's curiosity, so he looks up the biological process by which bees turn nectar into honey...and he's found his answer. Blob ghosts are basically the filter feeders of the Ghost Zone/Infinite Realms. If he can get a bunch of them to behave kinda like honey bees, his ecto supply should be assured.

It works...a bit too well...

Now Danny has a swarm of glowing green honey bees that are roughly the size of carpenter bees buzzing happily about him. Their queen is roughly the size of a large hummingbird. He heaves a weary sigh and starts looking up how to ACTUALLY keep bees and making skips out of ghost-friendly material for them to build their hive in on top of his apartment building.

But, won't Danny get complaints from his neighbors? Here's the kicker. Unless you are a 1) ghost, 2) halfa, 3) wearing specialized Fenton Ecto-Visual Goggles or 4) a mage, you cannot see, hear or feel the bees! They're buzzing around Gotham happily, slurping up the ecto to take back to the hive for processing. And they slurp it up from EVERYWHERE...including certain people.

Jason Todd is slightly confused but not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Over the last few months, the Pit Rage has been decreasing gradually. He doesn't think much about it until he shows up at the BatCave for an all hands meeting that has been called because John Constantine needed to brief them on something...only for Con-job to take one look at Red Hood and shout that he's "COVERED IN FUCKING BEES!!!"

[tauforged]

if we assume warframes have some amount of biological function rather than being meat suits, it would only stand that in the process of becoming protoframes, the hex would not only change appearance-wise but the way their bodies FUNCTION would change as well as their behavior. I don't have solid ideas for everyone YET, BUT i'll elaborate on what i have so far below...

we don't have a lot of solid info about how cyte-09's kit would work, but being that he's a sniper-centric frame, it makes sense that quincy would start to subconsciously adapt to that 'ambush predator' function, in terms of behavior and also metabolism.

instinctually he feels safest/most comfortable when he's somewhere High Up and Isolated. he likes a vantage point, not much else to it. randomly feeling compelled to climb on top of shit and Perch even outside of patrols while just hanging out because it just feels more secure

bradymetabolic -- his 'natural' state is objectively slowed down in comparison to a normal human being, his resting heartrate is slow his body temp tends to be lower and he can go considerably longer in between meals if he isn't actively making an effort to eat on a schedule. his body is rewiring itself to be best suited towards finding a vantage point and lying in wait, staying as still as possible and expending as little energy as he can until the moment is just right.

HOWEVER, the moment something triggers him to act fast (usually in combat situations although its technically a 'prey response') his metabolism will kick into overdrive and he strikes FAST. for the brief period where he's active, heart rate and body temp shoot up and he burns through however much energy he's been storing in the interim. once the adrenaline wears off, though, he's back to business as usual. if he's in a high-energy situation for an extended amount of time, though, he runs the risk of exhausting himself, hyperventilating, or overheating.

tends to blink less than it seems like he should and picks up a habit of unintentionally holding his breath. trigger finger twitches unintentionally when he's focused on something/someone in a way that kinda resembles how dart frogs will tap their toes while hunting or how the raptors in jurassic park click their claws on the ground. develops and exaggerated freeze response -- when something startles him when he isnt expecting it, he goes completely stock still in an attempt to 'blend in' and wait out the threat.

on the opposite end, amir adopts a fucking hummingbird metabolism. he runs hot and fast and needs to eat a lot more than you would expect because his body is CONSTANTLY. GOING. he's somewhere int he middle between regular human and obligate nectar-eater -- he processes sugars WAY faster/easier than normal and is pretty dependent on them for energy in the immediate moment, although he does still have the capacity to store longer-lasting energy for later rather than having to eat every thirty minutes lest he starve to death. the more active he is, the more demand is on him, though and he is VERY fucking active. he's built to be on the move 24/7 now, and gets really antsy when 'at rest' because even when wholly idle his body burns energy like a motherfucker and it makes him restless. constantly craving sweet things because his body is demanding sugar NOW or we are going to DIE (this is not true, he's mostly being dramatic, but he DOES feel adverse effects from lack of food or water much sooner than he normally would)

can take short rests that are basically like power naps where he sleeps "normal", but when he actually Sleep sleeps he goes into a torpor state to preserve his energy, slowing down and dropping his body temp and it takes him between 20min to an hour to actually Wake Up completely. does not like doing this but while his body is meant to be constantly moving, his brain still runs on a human schedule and he Needs to get actual sleep. he needs to hard reboot every couple days or else he starts fighting demons. you know how it is.

aside from inconvenient desires to eat raw meat/random animals (imagining excal as an obligate carnivore just feels right), arthur isn't too METABOLICALLY different from the average human, but behaviorally he is fighting for his life. in contrast to quincy preferring open, elevated spaces, arthur is compelled to seek out dark tight enclosed spaces and hole up like a sick animal looking for a place to die (he's fine, but the way he's always stressing out crosses some wires in his brain and makes him Feel like he's dying)

you can tell when arthur and quincy have been getting on eachothers nerves or arguing because they will Immediately retreat to their respective territories to Sulk (quincy starts climbing on top of the stage light scaffolding, arthur is in the security office trying to find a dignified way to crawl under a table). it's objectively really funny to witness. they both do this when theyre in bad moods but when theyre BOTH doing it the chance of it being coincidence is very very low

both arthur and eleanor are VERY catlike, not really in a cutesy fun 'uwu nya' way, but in a 'bites people and knocks shit over and gets random bursts of energy at ungodly hours and feels compelled to chase things that move like prey' way . eleanor leans into this and does not care, she is biting you as a show of affection and you WILL accept that. arthur hates it and suppresses it at all times. catboy instincts calling to him like the green goblin mask 24/7

in tandem with the 'aoi's teeth are more like a squid beak and are dark in color because they're reinforced with metal' hc ive discussed before, i feel like she might feel the urge to try and Consume metallics somehow to feed that process. or maybe her constant melting down and playing with metal is how she assimilates it. not sure yet

i have not many ideas regarding trinity or lettie yet because i almost never play trin and dont have a good handle on how her kit would translate to biological functions LMFAOO im so sorry girl i love you so much but im still chewing on this one. welcome to ideas!

aaand of course, the conversation that started it all:

and the grand finale: bullying arthur

[kiame-sama]

I can’t remember, but have you already covered the any allergies the different monsters species might have? It could be food allergies or seasonal.

I've only gone in depth about Caffeine and the monster men species, but I would be happy to expand upon some allergies the various monster species have due to species restrictions!

Caffeine Link:

Canine species have severe allergies to Chocolate, Caffeine, Grapes, Onions (of all kinds, including shallots as well), cherries, and overly salty foods.

Jack in particular despises the smell of onions and will even cover his sensitive nose so he doesn't have to smell them. Grapes (and raisins) make Jack start dry heaving and will even cause him to become extremely ill if he accidentally ingests one, same with cherries. Jack doesn't like overly salty things and has issues with salt-water as a result. The taste is unappealing and he doesn't like how thirsty salty things make him.

Ruggie does GREAT with caffeine despite how hard he will crash when he has caffeine. Ruggie is also able to consume almost anything without negative effects other than hair and horns. Grapes are not great for Gnolls, but they can still eat them if starving. Ruggie doesn't love the smell of onions and they somewhat upset his stomach, but he can still eat some if he needs to. He would rather not have to eat things he isn't overly fond of, but a starving Gnoll will eat whatever they can find.

Sebek loves caffeine but has a hard crash when he ingests it. It gives him zoomies and he will be hyped until the moment he crashes, to which he will sleep for an extended period of time. Unlike the other canine species, Sebek can withstand salt quiet well due to his Fae-Raiju heritage and doesn't have as extreme of an aversion to salts.

Harpies don't do well with caffeine, as it can make them enter a state of pure panic, though they can still somewhat ingest more caffeine than other species (like werewolves and centaurs). Onions and Garlic are not great for them, as they can cause anemia and even liver failure if ingested in large amounts. They also need to avoid certain fruit seeds, as they contain cyanide and can kill the Harpies in large amounts. Chocolate isn't great for them, nor is dairy or Alcohol, but they can still ingest them in small amounts.

Neige has a particular dislike for apples, having almost choked on one and now avoids apples as a rule of thumb due to his past experience.

Crowley LOVES alcohol, though it isn't great for Harpies. As a Fae Harpy, Crowley has a greater resistance to alcohol and it doesn't affect him as much as it would impact non-Fae Harpies.

Vil has a strong dislike for Fatty foods. He is more partial to sweet foods and nectar due to his Hummingbird heritage, but heavily fatty foods nearly choke Vil when he ingests them and he becomes rather bloated if he ingests too much.

Most feline species share allergens and have similar foods that they avoid when it comes to what they ingest, of course, they all have different levels of how much they can ingest based on age and size. Caffeine isn't great for them, but they can still ingest more than the canine species or Avian species. Onions (as well as leeks, chives, shallots, and garlic) are not great for the feline species and can lead to anemia due to the potential damage onions (and other onion-like plants) can cause on their red blood-cells. Citrus can cause intense gastrointestinal upset in feline species.

Che'nya LOVES caffeine and has built up quite a tolerance to it due to it being so prevalent in the Queendom of Roses. He will often eat coffee beans when he can find them.

Trein loves his tea and will continue to drink it even if the caffeine in it isn't great for him. He also has a fondness for onions, so he will occasionally eat them when he is craving them.

Leona won't eat any vegetables or fruit unless the Human asks him, and he isn't particularly interested in caffeine, so he leans far more into a carnivore only diet.

Jasper likes citrus despite the fact that it sometimes upsets his stomach. He knows his limits, but loves the sharp tang of citrus fruits.

Grim is immune to most ailments caused by food. He can ingest all foods most feline species cannot and can even ingest rocks and tree-bark to fill up his stomach. If he had a choice, he would rather a meat heavy diet that includes large amounts of fish.

Most of the Ungulate species (excepting Kelpies) are unable to eat large amounts of meat. It doesn't process well in their stomachs and can result in bloat as well as death if too much is consumed. They can eat meat in smaller amounts, but large amounts of meat does not do well for the ungulate species. Fruits with pits are also not great for the Ungulate species, as many of the pits in fruit contain toxins they cannot digest.

Alistair doesn't like heavy meats, more partial to lighter meats like chicken when he does choose to partake. He also is fond of white-fish because they are not too heavy on his stomach.

Riddle is partial to Caffeine in small doses, such as teas, but he does not like coffee as it is too strong for him. He also is more leaning towards white-fish and white-meats over red-meat.

Ace and Deuce can eat almost anything, but Garlic and Onions can cause gastrointestinal upset and can even result in illness. Ace is well known for eating EVERYTHING, so he has to visit Crewel quite often to have his stomach pumped because he ate something he wasn't supposed to. Deuce is better about avoiding foods that are bad for him, but he does love to consume eggs on the regular and will occasionally get Salmonella from eating raw eggs.

Silver does not like meats of any kind. He can eat meats, but he is far more on the scale of herbivore than others and will avoid eating meats if he can. He is more partial to fruits and veggies, even to tree-bark in a pinch. He will eat meat if offered by Malleus, The Human, or Lilia, but he is not overly fond of meats.

Vargas has a much more omnivorous diet compared to the other ungulates and will eat meats if offered. He has an extreme sensitivity to corn and will avoid it as it doesn't digest well in his stomach compared to other vegetables.

Nymphs vary in foods that they can and cannot consume. Most foods are safe for Nymphs to eat depending on their various elements. There is no one item that is considered deadly among all nymphs as the elements they are changes what is overly safe for them to consume.

Fire Nymphs are unable to consume anything too juicy or full of liquid. Grapes are the juiciest thing that a fire Nymph can consume. Too much liquid and the Fire Nymph risks harming their cores and potentially smothering their cores. Drier foods and salt cured foods are better for Flame Nymphs. Wood is also an acceptable food that they can consume as it is more fuel for their fires. Rollo is particularly fond of grapes.

Water Nymphs can consume things that are not too drying, so they tend to avoid dried or cured foods. Juicy foods such as watermelon, Oranges, and other liquid filled foods are best for water Nymphs. Cater in particular is a fresh-water Lake Nymph, so he doesn't do well with salts, but salt-water Nymphs are able to endure large amounts of salt in their diets and in their water.

Plant Nymphs are fairly capable of consuming most things, from rotting food, to plants that are heavy in cyanide, there is little that cannot be consumed by a plant nymph. Pure toxins and pesticides can cause damage to them which can impact what they can consume, but is not that large of a risk for them.

Air Nymphs are more partial to lighter foods, less meats and dense meals. There is not much an Air Nymph cannot consume, but they are often able to consume most foods around them. Kida in particular is more fond of plants such as mint, peppermint, and other herbs. He is not overly fond of meat.

Genies are technically Magic Nymphs and they do not need to eat any foods to sustain themselves as they subsist off of residual magic other species let off. Kalim has a fondness for eating and drinking anything he can, as he simply enjoys the sensation and act of eating.

Most Merfolk have varying foods that they can consume, primarily piscivores and frequently eat other fish given where they live. Most can eat foods that can be found in the ocean and will prefer those foods over what can be found on land. Many merfolk have sensitivities towards red-meats but it also depends on the species as well. Caffeine isn't always great for them to consume, but they still enjoy the foods that they have.

Jade and Floyd are able to eat red-meats easier than many other Merfolk as they have adjusted to life on land well. Jade is overly fond of mushrooms which most Merfolk cannot stand, making him unusual among Merfolk like himself. Floyd is primarily a carnivore and will go out of his way to try different meats over vegetables or fruits that he finds.

Azul is a caffeine FIEND and will go out of his way to find caffeine to consume, be it teas or coffee. Azul is not overly fond of red-meats and is more partial to poultry than he is to the red-meats Floyd drags back to Octavinelle with him.

Driders cannot STAND peppermint, garlic, lavender, and citrus. The scents often drive them away and can cause gastrointestinal issues if consumed or put into their meals. Most Driders are carnivore and insectivores.

Rook will tolerate small doses of Lavender, Citrus, and Peppermint as Vil is partial to these smells, but in large amounts they will make him physically ill if he is around them. Garlic is akin to poison to Rook and he will do all he can to avoid garlic or garlicy foods that he is presented with. He will willingly consume garlic if it was put into a meal by the Human despite the fact it will make him violently ill. He will continue to eat this garlic infused food so long as it is the Human who offers it to him. He finds nothing more beautiful than consuming the food that was made for him even if it is heavily laced with poison. He is a simp first and foremost.

Bat Fae- and even regular Bat species- are not big into eating fatty meats, but otherwise do not have many foods that they cannot consume. Vampire Bats in particular just need to ensure that they consume blood from other species so they can obtain certain vitamins that their bodies cannot synthesize from the other foods they consume.

Lilia in particular is picky based on texture and less on the contents of their foods. Fluffy foods (like marshmallows) are detestable to Lilia, where he prefers more chewy foods over flaky or intensely squishy foods. Lilia is more fond of foods that are red in coloration as they remind him of blood. He is also very big into caffeine and alcohols as they soothe him and almost pacify him when he consumes them.

Dragons do not have any particular food sensitivities. Preference for foods is based off of the personal tastes of the Dragon themselves.

Malleus likes cold and sweet treats. Frozen fruits, frozen drinks, things of that nature. He is less partial to large meals as he rarely has anyone to actually share those meals with. This is- in part- why he adores what the Human cooks because it draws in others so he is able to have meals with a group instead of by himself like he is often relegated to doing.

Teumessian Foxes do not do well with caffeine, chocolate, or Grapes/raisins. Caffeine can easily overwork their hearts and make them collapse if they ingest too much. They also struggle to digest chocolate as their bodies cannot properly process chocolates. Most Teumessian Foxes are omnivores, leaning closer to carnivores.

Robin has a particular preference for lean meats; rabbit, poultry, fish. Robin will partake in caffeine if available, but he walks a fine line between consuming too much and consuming a safe amount.

Shinigami don't need to eat as much or as often as most of the other species. A lot of Shinigami don't really eat foods beyond the sparse and dry foods that can be found in Tartarus. The Shrouds are unique in that most of them have adjusted to a calorie heavy diet due to the abundant food that can be found in Twisted Wonderland. Naturally, most Shinigami do not have this privilege as they live almost exclusively in Tartarus.

Idia likes snacky food but rarely finishes any meals he has. He will pick at his food and eat what he is given, but he leans more towards liquids and fruit juices over heavy meals.

Ortho has a few more sensitivities than other Shinigami due to the many injuries he sustained while being mauled by his Feral ancestor. Smaller foods, steamed veggies, and lighter meats are better for Ortho as they don't bloat his stomach or put pressure against his damaged organs. He has an artificial lung, half of his small intestine is artificial, and his stomach is smaller due to losing a portion of it during the attack. He has more frequent meals than his brother, but they are lesser in size so his body can properly digest the foods he eats.

[ostdrossel]

As temperatures rise, more hummingbirds show up. Make sure your nectar and feeders are fresh & clean. 1 part white sugar and 4 parts water is all you need. I love how this female chose the Allura feeder, and how she prefers one side 😃 Stay cool and hydrated!

[lilacs-stars]

sweet like you

pairing: bridget x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is charming's sister) SUMMARY: you and your pink-haired best friend have your own ways of showing affection. but what will happen if you take things to the next level? GENRE: tooth-rotting fluff, friends to lovers, mutual pining CW: nothing really, reader is down bad, thoughts of loneliness and worries she's not good enough, mouth-watering descriptions of food WC: 7k

A/N: this one was heavily based off of the five love languages! I personally think that bridget shows love by gift giving and quality time (although I am willing to hear people out on this), and reader is words of affirmation and physical touch, with maybe a dash of acts of service. hope you guys enjoy, and thank you to the anon who requested this! please give me feedback and suggestions, I’d love to know your thoughts!

You fidget nervously, skittishly glancing up at the girl in front of you.

You were so afraid to do it, to maybe ruin what you two already have.

But if you don’t, you’ll be trapped in a life overshadowed by regret, yearning for a love that will forever linger in your heart like a forgotten memory just out of reach, a devotion that has taken root in you so deep you know it is impossible to abandon or ignore.

And with that thought, you gently lean in towards her soft, pink lips.

“So? How is it?”

The pink-haired girl in front of you stands with her arms hugged to her chest, hands curled in fists that sit right below her chin. She looks at you with an anticipation so potent it's practically overflowing, rocking back and forth in a way that makes you think she’ll combust at any second. Her kind eyes are stretched wide open, staring down your every move as she eagerly awaits your answer.

You take a bite into the freshly baked fruit tart in your hand, the perfectly golden crust and masterful arrangement of strawberries, blueberries, and kiwi slices on top making it look almost too good to eat.

As soon as the flavors make contact with your tongue, you practically melt away at the sweet, delicious taste that graces your tastebuds. The pastry base is like a crisp and delightfully buttery embrace that unifies all the elements, a shell that cradles the flavors with care. The fruits on top are delectable and juicy, the natural sweetness and burst of tang adding a refreshing balance to the sugary taste of the pastry, like little fireworks on your tongue.

Your favorite part, however, is the heavenly vanilla custard filling. It’s smooth and decadent, like diving into a saccharine river of vanilla that glides across your tongue. It’s as if the very essence of pure bliss itself was captured and transformed into a rich, sweet nectar. The cool, silky filling and fresh fruits are delightful in how they contrast the warm, flaky crust, all the ingredients coming together in a harmonious composition of textures and flavors.

Your eyes, which had fluttered closed in sheer ecstasy, open again to see a Bridget that is buzzing with excitement.

Your mouth, still stuffed and chewing, manages to mumble out, “It-it’s incredible," as you cover it with your spare hand—proper etiquette being second nature to you by now—trying to get out the partially coherent words.

Bridget still looks at you with a zealous sparkle in her eyes, expression unchanged and expectant, relentlessly teetering on the balls of her feet like a hummingbird rapidly flapping its wings as it hovers by a flower. Most people would have stopped at the compliment, but you, being a near-professional taste tester from the number of Bridget’s creations that you’ve tried since you met her, have a full evaluation prepared as you swallow.

“The crust is very buttery and just the right amount of crispiness, perfectly balancing out the smooth creaminess of the custard. The fruits add a bit of tartness and a fresh, juicy taste that evens out the sweetness of the rest of the pastry, that could be a bit overwhelming otherwise. As for aesthetics”—you shift around slightly from your position on the edge of her bed, the fluffy pink comforter beneath you practically swallowing you whole—“your placement is very well-done. I would recommend adding a glaze to the fruits, both to make them glossy and to enrich the taste.”

Bridget nods her head fervently, absorbing your every word like your suggestions are an indisputable truth. “I feel like the crust is a bit soggy, too,” she adds, face wrinkled in a frown as she stares at the dessert in your hand.

You look down at your half-bitten treat—its original, untouched beauty now destroyed—in a scrutinizing consideration. “Did you wait for the crust to cool down before adding the filling?” Bridget tilts her head upwards, eyes deep in thought as she looks to the ceiling. “Hmm, now that you mention it, I don’t think I did.”

"That must be the cause." You are certainly no baker yourself, but you’ve had lots of practice critiquing Bridget’s creations to the point where you are highly knowledgeable in the theory of baking. “Still, it is unbelievably delicious.” As if hearing those words for the first time, Bridget’s face lights up, her features all but radiating a brilliant glow as she beams. She clasps her hands together, crying, “Aww, thanks!”

You can’t help but laugh a little—Bridget’s limitless joy is truly contagious. At times like this, when you're staring up at her, gaze swirled with pure adoration and awe as if she's an angel that descended from the heavens in front of your eyes, you start to think just how lucky you are. For once in your life, the strings of fate finally pulled in your favor, crossing your paths with the girl clad in a bright pink dress facing you.

Fate is often cruel to you, like an unrelenting winter wind blowing in your face and biting at your skin, like nature laughing at you as you shiver in raw misery, coldness seeping deep into your bones. A cruel trickster that seems to follow you with malevolent intentions, a vicious smirk painted on its face as it sends every misfortune barreling your way.

You might have been born a royal, a princess that has an unfathomable number of gowns stacked in her closet and an equal number of suitors lined up for her hand. But you aren’t like your brother; you don’t approach groups of strangers and introduce yourself with a wink and an alluring demeanor. He is Prince Charming, after all, which causes you to often ruminate over how accurately your parents named him.

Instead of flashing a winsome smile to every guest at a ball, or every visitor invited to your house, and strike up a conversation with them, you often seek refuge in the quiet expanse of your own room. When required to make an appearance, you prefer to loiter around in the shadows or pass by unseen, like a ghost. This has made you quite the anomaly in the royal world; everyone always whispers behind covered hands and in hushed voices, spreading rumors and wildly speculating about why the princess of such a gregarious family never makes a presence of herself publicly.

And it’s the same at school. Bridget, like your brother, will approach absolutely anyone with a smile gracing her features and kind eyes crinkled in the corners, oftentimes with a home-baked treat in hand. She has countless friends, many random people she mentions or smiles at in the hallways that you’ve never even seen before. She’s never had to worry about finding a partner in class, never avoided eye contact in a crowd of people she didn’t know, never sat watching other people’s carefree conversations with the weight of being an outsider, always looking in through the glass of isolation keeping you from them. 

Which is why, to this day, in moments like these, you question whether fate has made a mistake of some sort—maybe jumbled up different karmic ties or gotten confused with names when it came time to draw people’s futures. Or, your biggest fear, is that this is all some elaborate plan, a puzzle piece in destiny’s plan to make your life as ill-fortuned as possible.

In times like this one, you peer up at Bridget and wonder, why in the world, out of her multitude of friends, did she decide to spend the most time with you? To dub you her “best friend”, if you will. 

Bridget had noticed your solitary manners a long time ago—like a magnet, she’s drawn to the people who are most in need of a friend, the most ostracized of the outcasts. And so, she had patiently sat with you every day, struck up a conversation even when you gave her the shortest answers possible that were still deemed polite, and attempted to make plans with you, although you always tried to cover up your outlandish excuses with gracious thank-yous. 

Over time, the girl with the bright eyes and unfaltering smile finally wore you down, until you began sitting next to her yourself, began looking forward to your idle conversations, and even sought to spend as much time with her as possible. In fact, you spend more time at her dorm than you do yours; neither of you have roommates, so the only time you go back to your room is to get into bed. Besides that, you spend every waking moment basking in Bridget’s cheery presence, so much so that half your belongings are scattered on her floor (your doing), or neatly tucked away in a drawer (her tidying up after you leave).

Your relationship grew to a point where you began to know Bridget well enough that you couldn't keep denying the way she seemed to know everyone, and on a rather personal basis as well. How she had a party or event she was invited to every weekend, or how she had an entire roster of people willing to help her at the smallest of notices anytime she needed a favor. Sure, she may not seem like the “popular” sort, which had definitely deceived you as well when you first met her, but she was definitely well-known and especially well-liked. 

So you found yourself many a night sitting on her bed—as you are now—looking at the stack of pretentious letters and notes, carefully placed in ostentatious envelopes with cloyingly ornate lettering, wondering what about you made Bridget seek you out. And that’s when you first thought of it. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t actually like you.

And once that thought popped in your mind, once it was planted and dug its roots in your brain, it grew rapidly, spreading uncontrollably like a weed that was left unchecked for a bit too long. Bridget probably only talked to you in the beginning just to be nice, the intrusive, unwanted voice hissed in your mind. She didn’t really like you. And now you keep on leeching onto her, and she’s way too nice to say she finds you annoying.

Fueled by your disbelief that anyone, especially someone with as many options as Bridget, would actively want to spend their time with you, you started to believe that Bridget was only entertaining you out of required courtesy. And so, you tried spending less time with her after that, building up your walls again and shutting her out; suddenly, you didn’t approach her in the hallways anymore, were always too busy “studying” to hang out in her room, and your long rants about various, trivial topics were reduced to simple, curt responses.

But Bridget persisted, always choosing you amidst a myriad of familiar faces beckoning her over. She still wanted to make plans with you, still left you treats outside your door to taste test. And so, with a hesitant uncertainty, only brought out by your crippling fear and burning shame at the possibility of even coming close to hurting Bridget’s feelings from your cold actions, you decided that she might actually want to be with you, of her own free will. 

That night, you had thanked her for being such a good friend to you. She replied as sweetly and modestly as ever (“Oh, it’s nothing! Don’t even mention it.”) When you brought up how you wouldn’t have any friends if not for her choosing to persistently break down your walls, as you are undeniably terrible at making friends, she had simply told you that your style of befriending people was to wait for them to approach you first, whilst her style was to approach them first.

She had pointed out, with a compassionate wrinkle in her brow, that with your way, at least you could be certain that whoever cared enough about you to initiate something and work towards befriending you probably had genuine intentions, which was a drawback of becoming friends with just anyone, like she did—you never who truly likes you, and who’s plotting to stab you in the back. You kept your mouth shut that night, but you really couldn’t help but think if that were true, then did that mean that the only person with genuine intentions towards you in the entire school was Bridget herself?

Fate, you decided, is certainly an interesting character.

“Maybe I should make another batch.” Bridget’s musings draw you back to the present, where she now stands with a bitten fruit tart in her hand and two unoccupied cavities in the tray she had baked them in. “I was thinking of handing these out to my History of World Magic class tomorrow, but they aren’t very good…” She frowns again as she looks down at her pastry, as if furrowing her brow and staring intensely at it can miraculously fix it, or at least give her some insight into discerning what to improve.

“Bridget.” You push up off the bed, taking a step towards her and placing a firm hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to make another batch. These ones are already great.”

Abruptly, you swoop in towards her opposite hand, stealing a bite from her already partially-eaten dessert. You chew with a smile on your face as you look at Bridget’s slightly startled expression, commenting, “See? This one is just as good as the other one.”

Bridget remains frozen for a moment, her forehead still puckered, before she relents into a soft grin. “Alright, then. If you say so. I guess they are alright.”

“That’s the spirit.” You let go of her shoulder, now leisurely strolling around the room, eyeing the various objects neatly placed on her furniture. Eyes scanning over each item, your hand subconsciously reaches out, fingertips languidly brushing along her possessions as if soaking up her essence. “About History, I’m so unprepared for that test we have coming up. Ugh, who even assigns that much work? Especially since Mr. Poirier already grades so harshly. Like, last test, he marked me down because I only gave three examples of goblin strikes in the past century out of the five he taught. I mean, you can’t mark someone down if you never said how many examples to give! He’s so unfai—”

Your voice cuts off as your eyes snag on a collection of objects on Bridget's desk that weren’t there before, an assortment of various tools and materials that when combined appear to belong to a crafting set: multicolored beads, tubes of sparkly glitter, delicate metal chains, a set of pliers, and a bright pink vial of glue.

“What are these?” you ask curiously, leaning in closer with a furrowed brow as you inspect the items on the desk, trying to make out what they are, or rather, what they are going to be made into.

“Ah! It’s nothing!” Bridget squeals, rushing over and throwing a spare blanket over the desk before you can take a closer look.

You spin around to face her, a frown etched into your features. “If it’s nothing, then why are you hiding it?”

“It’s not important!”

“You know you’re only making me want to know even more.”

“It’s really nothing! Just don’t think about it.”

You lift your hand, inching it closer to the draped cloth. “I’m thinking about it,” you tease, playfully moving your arm at a gradual, yet deliberate, pace towards the desk. “Still thinking about it. I’m getting closer, closer, closer…”

Just as your fingers are about to make contact with the blanket to pull it off, Bridget lurches forward, taking your troublesome hand in hers as she leads you away, towards the other side of the room with a nervous giggle.

“Come on!” you exclaim with a huff. “What’s so bad about what you’re doing that you don’t want to show me?”

“It’s not bad!” Bridget counters. “It’s just…look, you’ll find out what it is soon. Just give me some time, okay?”

“Hmm…” you hum, glancing upwards with faux consideration. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to wait that long.” A small, cheeky grin dances on your face as you try to conceal it with a feigned pout.

Bridget shoots you a look, a small smile finally spreading across her lips. “What were we talking about again? That’s right, History of World Magic. So, what were you saying?”

You notice the sudden—and rather forced—attempt to change the subject, but ultimately decide to brush it off. “Yeah, I was saying how Mr. Poirier is so unfair when it comes to grading! And his tests are always so hard. Like, seriously, he makes up test questions that he never even talked about during class. He just expects us to memorize the whole textbook or something.”

Bridget gives a small, rueful shrug. “Well, I guess he just wants us to learn the information well.” You shoot her a sharp look, one that screams, "Seriously? You’re defending him?"

“Hey, I have an idea!" Bridget exclaims, eyes lighting up again. "How about tomorrow, after school, we go to the library and study for the test? With both our minds put together, we’re a lot less likely to miss something. After all, two heads are better than one. You aren’t busy or anything, right?”

You shake your head no, although it does pass your mind how Bridget must already know that you never have any plans besides the ones she makes with you. “’Kay, study session tomorrow sounds good. Although we’re probably going to be there till midnight. I mean, seriously, who assigns one test on four different chapters?”

Just as you launch into yet another rant about your insensitive teacher whom you practically despise at this point, a deep, low horn sounds from somewhere out in the hallway, reverberating against the walls.

Both you and Bridget glance up at the clock on her wall, which is custom-made in the shape of a pink heart surrounded by a white rim, now with its glittery hands pointing at ten and twelve.

“How is it curfew already?” you groan, rolling your eyes. “Guess I have to head back to my room.” Many times, you’ve contemplated requesting to move in with Bridget, so you two can officially be roommates. After all, you practically are, with the way that people always knock on Bridget’s door first when asking for you (although that seldom happens, and the few rare times it has, it’s always been on a teacher’s behest). But every time you start to consider it, your mind plummets back into that dark place, the belief rooted deep into your consciousness whispering that you’d just burden Bridget with your inescapable presence and occupied space. 

“Aw, well, I’ll see you tomorrow in class! And at the library!” Bridget says as she walks you to the door, her constant smiling shining through once again.

You both bid each other goodnight, and as you walk the familiar solitary path back to your room, the absence of Bridget’s cheerful and bright energy is achingly present. It’s as if a piece of you was stripped away, torn from your very being and leaving you numb and hollow, merely a void of fleeting emotions just out of your grasp. Like the sun disappearing during an eclipse, leaving everyone shrouded in darkness as they await its return, you feel as though your very liveliness is missing from you. You glide down the hallways soundlessly like a ghost, your body nothing more than a shell of the exuberance brought out by the girl who’s constantly emanating pure, unbridled positivity.

Despite your feelings of emptiness, a soft ray of warmth settles onto your soul as memories of the evening, and every other moment you spent in Bridget’s company, replay in your mind. You still hear her melodious laugh, still see the bright sparkle in her eyes only displayed in someone who has not yet been dulled by the merciless, unsparing nature of the world.

Even though she’s not there, you still feel as though she is, carrying a piece of her deep in your heart while you reminisce over your memories, as you always do when you’re in the quiet loneliness of your own company. Even though she’s not there, your heart races at the mere thought of her: her gaze as she listens intently to what you have to say, the way her arms wrap around your torso and how her hair tickles your neck as she gives you a tight, enthusiastic hug.

Even though she’s not there, a shadow of her presence forever lingers in your heart and mind, leaving you yearning to bask in her warm glow again.

You step into the library the next day, after the final bell dismisses you from your last lesson. The library is one of your favorite places in the entire school—aside from Bridget’s room, of course. The peaceful retreat of the rows of dusty shelves and worn, rickety tables is unmatched. The tranquility of the gentle silence that always covers the area like a blanket, the smell of weathered books holding untold quantities of knowledge soothing you with the smallest whiff. Whenever you step across that threshold, it’s like being taken into a different dimension, one with fewer heavy burdens weighing down your shoulders and more blissful ease, a feeling one only reaches when in an untroubled state of mind.

No one looks at you as you walk in, not even sparing a single glance or the slightest movement that acknowledges your arrival. Not that that’s an unusual feeling for you.

You make your way down the aisles of books to your usual table, where you and Bridget always sit, standing in a secluded corner. The book bag slung over your shoulder is weighed down with all the books and notes stuffed into it, causing your arm to ache with strain. Grimacing as the hemp strap painfully digs into your shoulder, certainly leaving a mark that you’ll discover later, you mentally hurl a few obscenities at your teacher for his absurd teaching methods that make your bag so heavy.

However, as you move towards the table, you can see that there’s already some foreign object placed on top of it. A shocked, annoyed anger sizzles inside of you, vexation pumping through your veins at the thought of someone stealing your table. Sure, it doesn’t actually belong to you, and everyone has an equal right to choose any seat they desire, but it’s still your preferred spot and any other one would feel disconcerting and out of place.

As you near, now silently directing your colorful words towards the table thief, you begin to notice that no one else is around; nor do you see any materials on the table besides the peculiar item, which appears to be a small plastic container.

You approach the box, noticing that there’s a small, fuchsia-colored note stuck to the top as you get closer. Instantly, you recognize the handwriting, the half-cursive swirls and loops paired with the little hearts topping all the i’s instead of dots engraved into your brain.

“Dear Y/N,

I’m so so sooo sorry, but someone had an emergency and I had to go help them! I feel really bad for leaving you, and I promise I’ll make it up to you! 

For now, I made you some treats as an apology (and to help make studying a little more bearable). Sorry again! I hope you enjoy them! 

Love always,

Bridget

You smile at the little heart drawn next to her name, a staple of her signature. Opening the lid of the container, you see that sure enough, it’s stocked with plenty of macarons, a multitude of colors and flavors beckoning at you to try them.

You sigh as you grab a chair to sit in, the small wave of relief that washes over you soon overshadowed by the returning feeling of loneliness, rekindling inside of you like a greeting from an old friend you haven’t seen in a while. You reside in its arms with a comfort brought not by the warmth of a tender hug that soothes your pain and fills the hollow void residing in you, but instead by the ease of familiarity, the peace obtained when the outcome is a cruel one, yet one you foresaw. The security granted by basking in the solace of numbing arms wrapped around you, the feeling of being all alone and undesired, unwanted, something you’ve grown all too accustomed to.

Once again, you’re given a painful reminder of how popular Bridget is, how many other friends she has. How at the end of the day, you're simply an option, a choice she chooses to make. One that she can always change in the blink of an eye.

But you know that you can’t really be disappointed or feel so rejected because of this. After all, it's not like you can expect her to not have a life outside of you—ignoring the fact that you don’t really have a life outside of her. It would be selfish of you to want her to yourself all the time, right? 

Readjusting your chair closer to the table, you remind yourself that it’s nice enough of her to even remember your plans, much less take the time to stop by here and leave you a note explaining her absence, in addition to a sweet—both figuratively and literally—gift. She could have just forsaken you with no note, no warning. But then again, that’s simply not the type of person Bridget is. If she knew just how much her presence affects you, how she fills your days with a joy, a happiness so pure and unparalleled by everything and everyone else, you’re almost certain she’d never leave your side again.

To her, you’re just another friend, someone she enjoys seeing. To you, she’s your sun, the very being you revolve around and depend on to survive.

She truly is your everything.

The mouthwatering macarons eyeing you through the clear plastic invite you to take a bite, and you indulge yourself as you rip off the lid and relish in the soft crunch of the outer layers and the smooth flavors bursting within, reminding you of something akin to a dessert sandwich.

After munching on quite a few of them—you simply couldn’t help yourself, they were absolutely delicious—you begrudgingly heave your bag onto the table, pulling out the materials you so diligently packed.

You crack open your textbook to the first chapter, then your notebook to the first blank page. Ripping a sheet out from the spine, you place it down next to your notes. Every time you write something in your notebook, you copy it down on the empty page.

After all, you couldn’t let Bridget’s kindhearted nature get in the way of her good grades. Even if it did mean more grueling work on your part.

For her, you are willing to do anything. Just to see her beam at you again with those rosy lips, the sparkle in her eyes twinkling brightly at you. Reminding you that you’re the cause behind her happiness.

No matter the cost for you.

The sea of faces and bodies in front of you is slightly overwhelming, blurred flashes passing you as you struggle to find your way through the crowd. But then, your eyes snatch on a head of pink curls bouncing up and down animatedly, and instantly, you’re washed over with a wave of relief. Slipping through the cracks between the meandering crowd, you make your way over to the table Bridget is sitting at today in the Dining Hall.

“Hey,” you say gingerly, placing a hand on her shoulder to get her attention as you approach her from behind.

Bridget twists her head back, face visibly lighting up at the sight of you. “Y/N!” she exclaims, scooting over and excitedly patting the space next to her.

You take your seat, turning to face her. “Uh, so, about yesterday…” 

Your plan was to thank her for the macarons and the thoughtful note, but before you get the chance, her eyes widen at your words as her face erupts in a look of deep penitence. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Fay was trying a new spell and accidentally burned half her hair off…” Her face contorts to a look of serious shock and concern, probably reimagining the scene.

“I know that’s no excuse though! I felt so bad for bailing on you, that I stayed up all last night just to finish this…”

She turns around and bends over her seat, reaching into her bag on the floor. She grabs something, then twists back around to you, clutching the mysterious object tightly in her hand.

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands!” she instructs, vibrant with pulsating enthusiasm. A bit tentatively, you do as she says, putting your cupped palm out in front of you as you shut your eyes.

You feel a small, very solid object get placed in your hands (So not a new dessert to try, you think with only the slightest tinge of disappointment). But that all dissipates as soon as Bridget exclaims, “You can open them now!”

Your eyes flutter open, gaze pointed downwards towards your palms. Immediately, a tender surge of awe floods your heart, making its pace quicken as it beats rapidly. Your heart throbs with such a profound gratitude you worry it’s going to burst any second from how touched you feel.

You pick up the chain placed in your cupped hands, an elated smile breaking through as you take in the bracelet Bridget gave you. Decorated with numerous charms, you take the time to study all of them carefully, running your fingers over the meticulous hand-crafted details as you realize the significance of each one.

They’re not random designs chosen simply for aesthetic purposes; no, each one resembles something, either about you or your relationship with Bridget. A clear-cut gemstone of your favorite color placed next to a small depiction of your favorite animal both hang off the chain. Then there’s a metallic red apple symbolizing the one time you two went apple picking at an orchard; a little set of playing cards with the same design at the deck she used when she first taught you how to play; a small face of a gray kitten with white whiskers, resembling the one you two saved from an incredibly high and strangely twisted tree the first time you visited Wonderland. 

Nevertheless, the finest of them all is the pink, glittery heart that sits right in the middle. Embellished on its surface is a fancy cursive B next to your first initial, conjoined with a small plus sign. 

An everlasting symbol of your intimate bond.

Your mouth is fully agape, eyes round as saucers and eyebrows arched in a mix of nearly tangible astonishment and disbelief as you turn the bracelet around in your hands over and over, examining each charm with a sharp, precise eye. Bridget sits in quiet anticipation, holding her breath as she awaits any kind of reaction that can give her even a glimmer of an idea as to how you feel.

“Remember when you were asking me about the stuff on my desk the other day and I said I'd show you soon?” she asks, breaking the thick silence that has grown to be unbearable for her. “Well, I was working on this as a surprise for you. And, I mean, I felt so bad for leaving you yesterday that I wanted to give it to you today as a little apology.”

Your gaze finally breaks away from the bracelet, meeting Bridget’s jittery eyes. Before she can even process what’s happening, the next thing she knows you’ve lurched forward, arms wrapping so tightly around her body that she struggles to even breathe.

After she gets over the initial wave of shock, Bridget’s wide eyes melt into a compassionate smile, returning the embrace. You hug her firmly, getting lost in the moment and not letting go until you hear a little, “I can’t breathe,” paired with a soft tap on your back, drawing you out of your daze as you realize you’re practically smothering her.

“Oh! I-I’m sorry!” you exclaim, drawing back quickly and examining her figure with knitted brows, making sure she’s alright. “I just…I love it so much! It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever given me!”

Bridget gives a bubbly laugh, eyes matching her grin as she says, “Oh, it really was nothing. I mean, you’re a princess. I’m sure you’ve gotten much nicer things.”

Smiling, you don’t mention how even the most lavish of luxuries, the most exorbitant of material goods only the finest money can buy, all pale into nonexistence when compared to her gift. The thought, the care, the hours of painstaking work and dedicated moments spent carefully crafting, all for you, is simply unfathomable and impossible to match. You may be holding a small bracelet worth not even a tenth of the simplest of rings you normally get gifted by your family, but to you, it’s worth more than every mansion and diamond in the whole world.

You shake your head left and right, tears of joy brimming and threatening to spill as you lean into Bridget for yet another hug (this time making sure not to squeeze her quite so hard). You know that later, you’ll probably lie in bed and wince at your brashness in this moment, hands covering your flustered face as you toss and turn in embarrassment—but for right now, you’re too swept up in your emotions to care.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” you exclaim, pulling away once again to reach into your bag this time. Retrieving a stack of papers neatly stapled, with lines and lines of orderly notes written in meticulous handwriting, you hand them to Bridget. “I figured since you probably wouldn’t have the time to take notes for the test, I took them for you.”

This time, it’s Bridget’s turn to be flustered from your benevolent gesture. “You really didn’t have to!” she cries, a stunned expression painted on her face as she flips through the numerous pages of detailed notes. She peers back up to meet your gaze with a swirl of shock and delight, her gently creased eyes and the lines on her forehead displaying her inner thoughts. Bridget often wears her emotions on her sleeve, and from sharing countless hours with her, you’ve learned to interpret her facial expressions so well you can practically read her mind. And through her gaze, you can see how she’s in disbelief at the thought that, despite your hatred for the subject and assignment—which you made very well-known—you still spent twice the time you had to on it, just for her.

“Well, I guess we’re even now,” you casually add, saving Bridget from having to formulate a response—you can clearly tell she’s having difficulty putting her emotions into words.

She shakes her head ardently from side to side, her springy curls bouncing vibrantly. “No, we still lost the time we were supposed to spend together! And I did promise I’d make it up to you.”

Before you can open your mouth to tell her that she’d made it up plenty, her head swivels to the side. You follow her gaze to a wide window a few meters away, the bright rays of sun poking out through the clouds and casting golden stripes on the table in front of you. 

Her head snaps back towards you, the light in her eyes burning bright as she enthusiastically suggests, “I heard the weather is really nice this weekend! How about we go on a picnic?”

“A picnic?” you repeat inquisitively. You don’t know what you were expecting, but this certainly surprised you. 

“Yeah!” Bridget’s talking quickens, the glimmer in her eyes shining brighter as she continues while the vague idea solidifies in her mind. “It’ll be a lot more fun than another study session. I can make the food and you can bring the stuff! The fields just south of here are a popular spot. It’s going to be so much fun!” 

She squeals as she claps her hands together. You match her smile, her enthusiasm once again infecting you. “Picnic it is, then,” you reply, grinning as she beams at your approval. 

A subtle sigh slips past your lips, unnoticed by Bridget. The same way you always wish she didn’t miss how you look at her, pure adoration and devotion mirrored in your gaze, staring at her as if she created the skies and stars with her own two hands. Which she really did—at least in your universe. 

A soft breeze blows against your face, tenderly caressing your cheeks as leaves rustle overhead, whispering to the wind of secrets unheard. The sky is a clear, vibrant blue, all but a few clouds lazily drifting by. Sunshine filters through the branches, casting dappled patterns of light over the checkered blanket beneath you. Birds somewhere in the treetops chatter and sing their pleasing songs, weaving a tapestry of notes that paint the horizon with harmonious brushstrokes. The grass sways gently, mirroring the serene breathing of the landscape.

Everything is tranquil, from the fluttering of butterfly wings to the laughter that sounds from pink lips, like the most melodious of music to your ears. The conversation isn’t that important to you; trivial, inconsequential topics that you really couldn’t care less for. But what truly matters is the way her eyes fill with the purest of sparkles, the way she doubles over as she giggles, the breeze brushing her captivatingly gorgeous curls out of her face.

There’s nothing in the world you would trade for this moment, this sliver in time where you are completely at peace. Where not a single care or worry can reach you, not when the only thing on your mind is how much your heart swells with pure affection, how simply perfect the girl in front of you is.

After she manages to catch her breath from laughing, Bridget meets your gaze—one that is directed at her, but isn’t really looking at her. Your eyes are distant, the unwavering smile on your speaking volumes of emotions.

“Those sandwiches were really good, weren’t they?” she asks you, referring to the special-made lunch that you two had just finished.

You nod, still grinning at her with a persistent gaze. “They were great, Bridget. Nothing that you make could ever taste anything less than delicious.”

She blushes, swatting at your arm playfully. “Hey, that’s not true!”

You laugh, sitting up from how you were previously lying on your back. Catching Bridget’s hand in midair, you reply, “Well, it is, because I don’t lie.”

“Oh? Since when?” she asks, mirth dancing on her features.

“Since always.” You feign annoyance at her accusations, your smile still shining through.

“Ah! Speaking of food, I have something special for you.”

You hum in surprise, watching as Bridget reaches over to your woven picnic basket. She shuffles closer to you, to the point where her knees almost brush against your thigh, with how she’s sitting cross-legged and you with your legs outstretched whilst leaning on one arm.

Opening the lid, her hand disappears inside for a moment before reemerging with a singular cupcake, topped with a swirly pastel pink frosting and decorated with small sprinkles in shades of white and red. 

“This is a new recipe,” she explains, holding the treat out to you. “I made it with this super rare flower essence, shipped straight from Wonderland. Let’s just say I gave the batter a lick, and I think it’s my best creation yet.”

“You haven’t tried it yet?” you ask, moving to sit in a position similar to Bridget’s as you accept the dessert. 

“Nope! I wanted you to have the first bite.”

Your smile only grows wider, now stretching from ear to ear, an undeniable sense of glee emanating from you. You’d normally argue with her, telling her that she really didn’t need to do something like this. But from all those failed attempts you’ve only learned that Bridget never listens, always putting you first time and time again. So, this time, you simply take a bite, nearly melting away again as the flavors hit.

The frosting has a sugary, saccharine taste, the sprinkles adding a delightfully contrasting texture to the creamy richness of the pink swirl. The cake below it is soft and moist, as if eating a fluffy cloud. The vanilla flavor is smooth, an undercurrent that balances out the sweetness. There’s a slight twinge from a distinct flavor as well, something you’ve never tasted and can’t quite put your finger on. The same way that coffee elevates the taste of chocolate, this special ingredient brings out the sweetness of the vanilla, balancing out the sugar of the frosting. Every mouthful is incredibly light and absolutely delectable, making each moment it graces your taste buds feel like an indulgent bite of heaven.

“So? How is it?” Bridget asks as your eyes swiftly open. Her anticipation lingers in the air, along with your awaited response.

But you barely hear her words, too focused on how the color of the frosting perfectly matches her delicate, roseate lips. They’re so gentle, yet lush, almost forming the most endearing of pouts.

Eyes darting from her eyes, to her lips, back up to her wide, doe eyes again, you throw caution to the wind and spring forward. Your hands move in front of you, supporting your weight as you lean in.

Your lips make contact with her velvety ones, which are even smoother than you imagined. A stolen kiss, lasting but a moment, yet enwrapped by the tender caress of your mouth, the purest of affections seeping in as you hold her lips between yours, then draw back for the briefest pause.

Eyes locked with her wide, expressive ones as you linger a mere inch away from her face, you respond to her earlier question.

“Delicious and incredibly sweet. Just like you.”

end x

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[sorcerous-caress]

Faux Innocence | Halsin

[Smut, purity kink, slightly toxic Halsin, Durge reader, nb!reader]

Halsin has developed a false impression of who you are. Despite being a bhaalspawn, you were the picture of purity in his eyes and he let his urges to corrupt you take over.

If someone were to ask Halsin what true purity was, he'd merely point in your direction.

For how could anything else compare to you? How could the petals of a budding spring flower compete with you? Not even the sweet nectar of a honeysuckle rivals the sweetness of your innocence.

Is what he sincerely believed, constantly preached and defended with vigour against any conflicting view or opinion someone had of you.

He might have not gotten to know you much, but from what he has seen and through all the troubles you went through to help him and his grove, to help cure this land from its curse and save a child of nature, he has a solidified view about you.

A maniac? A murder? A bhaalspawn? Halsin will soon believe that the sun was blue rather than these blatant lies. You couldn't hurt a fly if you tried, you were the picture of a meek newborn deer in his eyes.

No matter how many times your companions attempted to tarnish his glass stained picture of you, it would never shatter.

Yet you accepted his advances, his proposition in broad daylight. Halsin was sure of one thing that day, and it's that you might have been even more naive than he thought you were, to allow a man you've barely known to bed you so easily.

It almost felt sinful of him to wait for you in the woods that night. His neglected cock throbbing and aching against his clothes, tip leaking pearly white droplets at the thought of your wide eyed stare and sweet smile when you finally arrived.

He was gentle, he really tried to be as gentle as he could. The most careful and delicate he has been in his entire lifetime, a stark contrast to his wild nature and usual intense sexual experiences.

Speaking slowly, softly. Allowing you space and asking you if you're sure multiple times in an almost condensing way. The man would coo at your endearing enthusiasm as he patted your head, amused by your innocence.

Your companions really don't know you at all huh? Spinning false tales of you allowing a priest of loviatar to whip and inflict pain on you so publicly, claiming you were flirting with the devil women after Wyll. They even had the audacity to imply that blood and gore turn you on!

These thoughts only make him chuckle, he has never heard anything so bizarre in his life before.

Halsin picks you up, you fit perfectly into his big arms. The urge to protect you, keep you in his embrace from this scary world that would devour you at the first sign of weakness. It's a miracle that someone as sweet and innocent as you managed to remain pure for so long.

As much as he wants to push you against the tree, he fears its bark might be too harsh for your delicate skin. He only wishes for your utmost comfort as he trails up your neck. Giving your forehead a tender peck before pressing his lips against yours, his tongue politely and wordlessly asking permission for your lips to part.

The kiss is slow, tender, and drives him crazy. He is using all of his self restraint, burying every depraved perverted instinct of his deep down being so careful not to tighten his grip around you.

You're like a fragile fledgling of a hummingbird that entrusted him with its delicate wings.

He asks permission before removing your clothes, swallowing down his saliva at the idea of finally seeing your naked body.

He interprets your casual nod as a sign of being embarrassed, what a timid shy thing you are. May Silvanus grant his soul mercy and give him strength for he is barely holding back. His cock painfully hard and left ignored for the sake of you.

The night is warm and calm, the perfect atmosphere to slowly strip you down. The moonlight illuminating your breathtaking figure as his large hands glide down your soft body.

You belong in a soft bed with featherly pillows, he thinks, covered in silk and veiled by white lace. Maybe even a nest of wool or cotton, as delicate and as precious as an egg, you deserved the same protection.

When he reached between your legs, his breath stopped for a second. Eyes drinking in your most intimate parts on display for him. How he longed to drink you up, swallow you like honey down his throat.

You deserve a hot wet mouth to grind into each night, both to wake you up in the early morning with his head between your legs, and to put you to sleep late at night with your thighs above his shoulders.

Before he realises it, his lips are already on you. Sucking and licking against your heat with the hunger of a dying man. You tasted like pure ambrosia and he was getting addicted.

Nothing could pull him away from you at that moment, no one could convince him to let go before you had your orgasm. How sweet your moans sounded as he drove his tongue further in, as he sucked and swallowed.

And when you held his hand, when you entangled your fingers with his instead of pulling on his hair, he almost came untouched. This simple innocent act of holding hands while he devoured you on his knees, while he shamelessly let his gluttony take charge, it drove him mad with lust.

That hand could never hold a knife or a dagger, he thought, there is no way these delicate fingers could handle a weapon. They were made to be held, to be kissed and to be pinned down.

The melody of your moans echoed through the night, getting louder as you approached release. Halsin felt a sense of pride when he saw the hints of tears at the corner of your eyes, what an intense experience his simple act must have been for someone as pure as you.

“Halsin…please” you breathlessly said, “I'm close, I'm…”

Your next words, asking his permission to cum, were his last straw.

For your orgasm never came. Halsin pulled his mouth away with a wet pop as his primal urges took over. Picking you up again and bending you against his chest, your legs over his shoulder as he kept you in the air.

“Please bear with me, I deeply apologise for this.” you felt something large prop your entrance, his eyes were glazed over.

He's an awful man, he thinks as he plunges his cock into your wet hole. He couldn't resist, he couldn't control himself, he couldn't not be greedy and selfish against your temptations.

The sudden intense change of position, the sudden insertion and the large cock pumping in and out of you with a trail of precum painting your walls, was more than enough to send you over the edge.

Your previous denied orgasm coming back twice as strong. Halsin kept fucking you through your release, pace never slowing down as you cried in pleasure and and your insides squeezed him fist tight.

Drool slipped from the corner of your lips, pleasure clouding your brain and making everything look hazy. Halsin lapped it up with the look of a hungry wolf about to devour its prey, kissing you again and pushing you down deeper onto his cock.

He wanted to ruin you, to steal your purity so it's his forever, to share his filthy fantasies with you until you're as much of a pervert as he is. To fuck each and every one of your holes, to fill you with his cum and bulge your stomach.

Apology after apology were whispered against your lips between each kiss, his brutal pace sending you into overwhelming sensitivity from your fresh orgasm. You could only hold on to his strong chest as you were used like a flashlight, fucked and made to cum so easily by the arch-druid.

The idea of keeping you on his cock forever stirs something dark inside him, to have you warming his cock each moment of the day. To stretch you out on it and bounce you slowly until you cum yourself to sleep, have you all pretty and ready on his lap to be fucked. He would protect you, he would treasure you and he would show you what's your true purpose.

Instead of having to worry about you each time you went out on these adventures, never taking him with you and coming back covered in blood courtesy to your careless companions no doubt. How could they let someone so meek and innocent even see the sight of blood?

You're crying his name, hugging him closer to you. Moving your hips as much as you can to match his pace. Even now you're indulging this selfish man's desires? Fucking yourself against him so he'd give you his cum faster? You really are a sweet thing aren't you. The most adorable person he has ever met.

He was never one to abuse his authority or power, but something tells him if you were a cute fresh druid in training in the grove, he would've made you his personal assistant since day one. Gave a million excuses and reasons on why it should be him to train you, to hold you and show you the proper positions to cast spells, to give you the permission to visit the arch-druid chambers any time.

But maybe even nature is too brutal for you. The sight of that bloodied brutalised squirrel just above the elevator still confuses him to this day, apparently animals can still be hostile whilst in a safe sanctuary like the grove. At least he fully assumed it was another animal that had taken its life.

And Halsin will make sure you never see that side of nature, only the most soft and cherry picked ascents. Have you tending to the flowers and caring for the baby bunnies. Maybe, feeding the kittens seems much more your style.

Your cries pull him out of his fantasy of what a different life with you could've been. There are tears going down your eyes from the intense pleasure and the most cute hiccups and pleads for him to please fill you with his cum, to please push his cock deeper in.

How could he ever say no? It would be criminal to deny you anything.

Halsin was already on edge for so long, it only takes a couple more kisses against your neck, a touch of your curious fingers against his pointy ears and he's spilling his seed inside you. Marking you with his cum and filling you the brim.

His cock pulses inside you as it empties itself, he keeps it plugging you and not allowing a single drop of his cum to escape.

Looking at your eyes, he wonders what you're thinking about in that pure mind of yours. Completely unaware to the depravity of gore inside, to your wandering thoughts about snapping his neck, to your dark urges for him to choke you with his large fists as he fucks you against the harshest tree.

No, instead he kisses your forehead. Smiling as sweat glistens on his skin, he keeps you on his lap.

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

How You Turn My Word; Chapter 2

The day continues, and this time you find yourself in an entire new world... a world called The Underground.

Character; Lilia Vanrouge

Content; Gender-neutral reader, more shenanigans, reader isn't happy

Content Warning; Intoxication (Lilia), swearing

Word Count; 2.7 K

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Don't put my work into AI; I'll make sure you end up in the Bog of Eternal Stench.

Lilia’s night was not going according to plan and he was mentally cursing himself over it.

Thing Lilia did not plan for #1; he got lost. To be fair though, many a thing had drastically changed since the last time he romped around the mortal realm. A few hundred years would do that though. Humans now seemed to live in tall metal boxes rather than the humble cottages of ages past. 

Thing Lilia did not plan for #2; a red flower deceiving him and containing something akin to liquor. So he was flying around lost while under the influence, which only worsened his situation. (Lilia did not know it, but the red flower was in fact a hummingbird feeder with sugar water which had been left out in the sun for too long and had fermented. Make sure to change your hummingbird feeder often on hot days so you don’t cause a nectar-loving friend to fly while wasted) 

Thing Lilia did not plan for #3; getting himself stuff in one of those tall metal boxes, and he was now stuck inside some cursed metal labyrinth. At least it was not iron or silver, as it did not burn, apparently, humans no longer fortified their abodes with those metals. Perhaps the times have changed for the better?

But Lilia finally escaped the infernal metal labyrinth, perhaps luck was finally on his side tonight after all! He bumped around a few corners. My my, what a small hovel. Perhaps things have not changed all that much from the last time I was here… But Lilia was rudely pulled from his thoughts when something swatted him clean out of the air. And the culprit? A rather rotund grey cat with large blue eyes, which was now carrying Lilia into its lair, most likely to play with him for a bit before deciding that it had had it’s fun and ultimately put him out of his misery.

His night went from a jolly and somewhat embarrassing tale he would regale about at the local tavern, to a bedtime story parents would tell their children about the dangers of going places that you really shouldn’t. Should he get out of this sticky situation Lilia would not live this incident down. 

The cat placed Lilia in a collection of socks and then sauntered off, calling out at the top of its lungs. Great, it's getting company for supper, and I’m the appetizer. How lovely. But Lilia knew he would have a better chance of getting out of this situation if he stayed calm and waited for an opportunity to escape. Even while tipsy, he could keep his cool.

And the feline was back and yanked Lilia out of the sock hole. Cracking open his one eye he saw that the cat did not come back with its hungry friends, but rather, a human. That was both good news and bad news. Good news; he most likely was not going to be eaten tonight! Yippee! Bad news; the last time he was in bat-form in a human’s abode, he was chased around with a torch, which he really did not want to go through again. So his best course of action was to play dead in this situation.

When the human left the room though, he took his chance and took flight once again, trying to find a way out. The cat was trying to catch him again, but Lilia knew of its tricks this time and dodged every swipe it sent his way.

But he was pulled out of his thoughts when the human screeched at the cat, “YOU CAUGHT A FUCKING BAT?!” 

Oh yeah, they did not sound happy, not at all, but it seemed to be directed more at their feline companion rather than him.

As he was busy flapping around, trying to find an escape but to no avail, he also heard the human whispering to him. “Don’t fly towards my head, bat. I’m just trying to get you back outside. You’re a nice bat, right? Nice bat, nice bat.”

Were he not preoccupied and in a better state of mind, Lilia would have been amused by this. Currently, though he was occupied with trying not to be eaten and finding a way out of this cursed place. He was not in a laughing mood. All Lilia wanted to do was get back home, pass out in his bed but he would also be happy with his sofa as well, and pretend that this was nothing more than a bad dream after a night spent tavern hopping. Dealing with a horrid hangover would be better than this… and he was most likely going to have one of those anyways. Tonight really wasn’t Lilia’s night, not at all.

Then the human grabbed the cat, and Lilia was finally left alone. The window was open, but he didn’t know that, as his mind was too preoccupied with you know, not dying, that he hadn’t noticed that the human had opened it for him. So where did Lilia go? Well, he went back into the metal labyrinth (air duct), and fumbled around until he tired himself out. It wasn’t the most ideal of spots to crash for the night, but it was better than going back and possibly being eaten, Lilia would rather avoid that. So this was going to be his bed for the night, a lonely quiet corner of the air duct system, where he could hopefully wake up sober tomorrow. But he yearned for his warm quilts that awaited for him back at home, back in Faerie, or as some call it, the Underground.

Lilia wasn’t even supposed to be in the mortal realm in the first place, but curiosity had won him over, and he even ignored the travel advisory that was in place. Some crow fae had travelled there about a century or so ago and had yet to return back, hence a travel advisory. But yet here he was in the mortal realm, tiny, drunk, and utterly lost. His bad decisions could be looked into further detail once he got some shut-eye. So he wrapped himself in his wings and passed out in the corner of the air vent. Hopefully, when he woke up he could turn this disastrous day around.

…

Upon waking up, Lilia groaned — or rather, in this case, squeaked — and stretched his wings out. So the wretched metal maze and last night's fiasco was not some liquor-hazed dream; how lovely. Utterly delightful.

At least the strange maze echoed sound quite well, so he knew what exits to avoid. Not that one, he could hear a dog barking, and the feline encounter was enough for him. No, not that one either, he could hear children screaming.

Finally, he came to an opening, there was some quiet chatter, but it was far enough away where Lilia felt comfortable enough to explore this potential escape route. 

Why does this look familiar? AM I BACK IN THE BUILDING?! Yes, yes he was. At least there was no sign of the ca–

“Mrp?” Speak of the devil.

The cat got out of its den and lept at Lilia, who dodged the attack, and the cat pushed some books off a desk. The cat was also screaming at him, and causing an all-around ruckus. Lilia managed to outmaneuver the feline, but soon a brand new human came into the scene.

The new human took one look at Lilia and backpedalled out of the room. But the human had just created another escape route for him, and Lilia flew, well, like a bat straight out of hell for it. Too bad the next room contained two more humans, including the one he had encountered from last night… maybe they would be nice again and spare him for trespassing on their small abode?

In the midst of the chaos, the human from last night knocked him out of the air with a broom. Okay, that hurt little Beastie. But that swing and the crash landing into a table caused Lilia to shift back into his human form, which also caused sparkles to happen. Did humans still think magic was evil? Well, he was about to find out.

Everyone remained silent, and after the sheer noise of the chaos, it was deafening, even the cat was quiet. And Lilia stared at the human that had knocked him out of the air, you. And you were staring straight back at him, looking utterly baffled. Well, this is awkward… I think I have overstayed my welcome… 

Lilia snapped his fingers, and he started to disappear into sparkles yet again, this time going home since he wasn’t able to use his magic when stuck in bat form. And it was happening without a pinch, but you seemed to trip on thin air and crash landed on his feet, disappearing with him; a stowaway coming to Faerie. 

… Well this is no good now, is it?

…

…

…

 When the green sparkles subsided, you found yourself sitting in some sort of bog, and the water had made it into your mouth by some twist of fate. While you were busy spitting the bog water out of your mouth, the stranger was standing by the bank, dry, without any sulfuric-tasting water in his mouth, and looking better for wear.

Pulling yourself out of the bog water — eugh, you smelled like eggs now, great — you pointed an accusatory finger at him, water dripping from the end. “Where,” you spat out some extra bog water from your mouth, “am I? And why does it reak of eggs?!” You would have looked and sounded more imposing, but you were sopping wet, covered in mud, and spitting out coughs trying to get the bad taste out of your mouth; which wasn’t really commanding any sort of respect.

The stranger, Lilia, snorted before letting out a cough, trying to hide his amusement very poorly. He waved his hand, green sparkles surrounded you and you were now dry, still covered in mud, but dry. “Faerie, although some call it the Underground.”

You opened your mouth, but he wagged his finger at you. “And before you blame me for bringing you here, you have no one to blame for this but yourself!” Despite the cheeriness, there was something cold and off putting in his eyes, like he was calculating something. But that moment passed, and the almost annoying cheerful facade came back in full. “As for the smell? That so happens to be The Bog of Eternal Stench!”

“Like eternal eternal?” You really didn’t need to smell like rotten eggs for the rest of your days.

The stranger just chuckled, “Fret not, Beastie, I decided to return the favour, since your feline friend decided not to eat me. But it is indeed ‘eternal eternal’ if you don’t have the means to get rid of it.”

Beastie? “Uh, okay.” not the most eloquent of things to say, but really, could anyone blame you? You just fell through some kind of portal, magic(?) was real, and oh yeah, so were fae/faeries or whatever the hell they called themselves. So ‘Uh, okay’ was perfectly fine in this situation.

Mr. Sparkles — if he was going to call you Beastie, he deserved a dumb nickname — just gave you a smile, exposing the barest hint of his fangs; despite his small frame, he was still dangerous, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. It was as if he was assessing you, to see if you would be worth the trouble to help. You didn’t know if either option would be good by the way his magenta eyes twinkled with mischief.

He let out a huff and started walking away, and you followed. “I wouldn’t recommend following me, Beastie,” he hummed, and you tripped over a rock, vines keeping you to the moss. “The court would not take kindly to you.” 

You glared at him and tried ripping the vines off of your feet, but they didn’t budge. “And why should I listen to you?” 

Mr. Sparkles booped you on the nose, “Well, it would ensure that you made it out of here alive, which I believe you would find beneficial and all.” 

Obnoxious prick. But he did have a point, you would rather make it back home alive rather than fucking around and finding out (aka dying). “So what? Are you going to just leave me here? No welcome brochure? Thanks.” 

You were being sarcastic, since it was either sarcasm or having a full-on existential crisis, since hey, magic wasn’t real in your world! Dimension? Galaxy? Where the fuck was this place?! How the hell did you end up here?!

“Hmm good point…” he snapped his fingers and there was now a book sitting in your lap. “This should suffice, do be warned though, Beastie, I may call on you later to return the favour. For now though,” he started to turn into green sparkles, “toodaloo!~” And he turned into a bat, flying off into the sunset, leaving you alone at the edge of the swamp with the only things to your name being the clothes on your back and a book in your lap.

How to Survive the Underground; For Humans! … Did he just give you this world’s equivalent of a For Dummies book? What the fuck? Was this kind of sick joke to him?

…

…

Once some of your ire had subsided, you decided to sit down on a boulder and read a bit of the book while there was still some sunlight out, but it was dipping into the horizon fast.

How to Survive the Underground; For Humans! By Yelworc Erid Preface …… i - iv Chapter 1; Surviving Your First Night…… 1 - 10 Chapter 2; Edible Food for Humans …… 11 - 31 Chapter 3; The Basics of Fae Etiquette …… 32 - 35 3.1; Species Specifics …… 36 - 146 3.2; Government Specifics …… 147 - 169 Chapter 4; Help! I Have Been Indentured to a Fae! …… 170 - 200 Chapter 5; Adjusting to Fae Social Life …… 201 - 224 Chapter 6; Transmittable Illnesses & Diseases …… 225 - 261 Chapter 7; Fae Courting Practices …… 262 - 264 7.1; Species Specifications …… 265 - 366 7.2; Government Specifications …… 367 - 389 7.3; Accepting a Courting Proposal …… 390 - 393 7.4; Refusing a Courting Proposal …… 394 - 401 Chapter 8; How to Handle Fae Children …… 402 - 452 Chapter 9; How to Leave the Underground … 453 Chapter 10; Adjusting to Life in the Underground …… 454 - 482 Acknowledgments …… 483 - 485

Looking back up to the horizon, you quickly turned the pages to Chapter 1; Surviving Your First Night.

“If you are unable to find yourself some suitable shelter, one should find themselves safe by camping out in a rowan tree. These trees can easily be found by their vermillion clusters of berries. They keep away all native species of the Underground,” you read out loud, turning your attention to the trees nearby, searching for those berries. “Rowan tree, rowan tree–”

A loud screech coming from the undergrowth only pushed you further. 

Nope, I do not want to find out what THAT was! Nope! NoPe! NOPE! 

Finally, you found a tall enough tree and you hauled your ass up it like there was a fire below you, and you were up in the canopy, far enough up that nothing could reach you, but also high enough where you needed to be careful, since you didn’t want to meet an early death because you made a wrong move. But for now, you were safe.

“Nice try buddy,” you muttered to yourself, trying to get comfy. Wood wasn’t the comfiest thing in the world, but you weren’t really in the position to be complaining. “I am not on the menu.”

The screech came again, this time closer; yeah, you weren’t sleeping tonight. The sun was now beyond the horizon, and there was no moon, the only light coming from the stars above; it was very pretty, but you could see jack shit. This was going to be a long night… and not a fun one, since you could also see the glowing eyes of unknown creatures which were, quite frankly, freaky as fuck. So yeah, no sleep for you.

“This fucking sucks,” you grumbled, and a chittering from the bog seemed to mock you. “This really fucking sucks.”

…

…

…

…

Tags; @busycloudy, @eynnwwyjth, @identity-theft-101, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @lucid-stories, @ryker-writes, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

~~~~~~~

Author's Note; This chapter is shorter, but it felt natural to end the chapter like this. This chapter, and the previous one, were both rewrites of an old WIP, so from here on out I don't have to rewrite! YIPPEE!!! Rewriting takes me forever, so we shall see what I come up with next.

If you liked this, do check out my masterlist for more content!

[liamket]

Fae!Hyrule without magic concept

ok so. i have a first draft of this (or at least an idea) and made a design that may or may not stay for the au cuz i like it but there are things that i still have to figure out

some rambling:

Hyrule is part Fae, and the only reason that he didn't get deadly ill for not having any magic left is because of his hylian blood, making his body able to survive without a source of magic. For a normal fae no magic = dead, but for him it only means a weaker body.

His magic kept both of his forms and allowed him to change between them, without this he will take his original appereance, this being the hybrid of a fairy and a hylian. The differences are mostly clear, some of them are that he's really short, even with his mother being a great fairy the nature of fairies is being small creatures, also that his father wasn't that tall either. His wings are smaller too, not being able to keep him up for long and only being useful to slow down a fall.

When he transformed into a fairy his magic was the thing that made his clothes smaller, without this his clothes stay in their original size. His boots were too big so Wind gave him his spare boots, these at least fitting him mostly well.

I have like. a whole thing with fae beings and idk how to explain it well here. but one thing about fae society is that they don't age like hylians do. They age when they do whatever their nature is, for example: a healing fairy has the nature to cure wounds right? They grow when they use their magic and practice with it, if they don't do it, they will stay like young or child around the rest of fairies. Hyrule because his hylian blood he grows like any hylian, but his fae part still stops him from completely pass from the state of a pre-teen, mostly because he didn't completely followed his nature even if he thought he did. For hylians he would be already an older teen, but for fae society he's still very young. With his magic gone, this nature will be even more difficult to fullfil, even if it is one that doesn't have magic too involved.

Sugar will be his best option to eat for now on. Think about it like how hummingbirds need nectar to refill their energy, without magic most of Hyrule's energy will come from sugary things or else his body will be too tired to move for all the extra effort that it isn't used to do without the help of his magic.

He has sharp teeth because i like drawing sharp teeths and because, somehow fairies need to defend themselves right? If they can't directly attack, at least bite in the eye or ear, i dont know.

[muletia]

based on the garden ask, how would Optimus feel about Venus Flytaps? They’re sorta technically living plants, and carnivorous. I think he would find those interesting (and keep away flies and other pest that may annoy or be bad for his garden). Also; I imagine Optimus would love that when he and his love (us) move to a nice farmhouse where Optimus can have as many plants as he wants, he constantly gifts them fruits or dried flowers sp they can enioy them too! I have a big passion for flowers and birds too, so I like to imagine that Optimus would like the beautiful species, especially larger trees like Willows and maybe even Flowering trees (like the one native and my states flower, Dogwood). Also, I like to imagine he likes watching even the smallest species (like hummingbirds!), especially those who frequent him more often since hummingbirds would most likely love his garden with all the flora and nectar they can feast on. Oppi eventually hangs up a few bird feeds and hummingbird feeders so more of his little friends can visit more often.

The existence of Venus flytraps and sundews makes his processor do a backflip. Up until now, he was convinced that photosynthesis was the only way plants could get the energy they needed to survive. And now he finds out that carnivorous plants exist??? Earth is so incredible and fascinating. He thinks he already knows a lot about this organic planet, yet it keeps surprising him with new and interesting discoveries. This only motivates him to study Earth even more and find new plant species to add to his collection.

YES, Opti would absolutely share the fruits and vegetables he grows with you and ask if you like them. Depending on your favorite fruits, those would be the ones he’d grow the most, experimenting with different varieties to see which one tastes best to you <3

He would definitely grow a ton of flowering and nectar-producing plants, both for his bees and for the simple satisfaction of watching butterflies and hummingbirds. There would be so many that even while sitting inside, you’d still be able to hear the buzzing of insects. Your garden literally turns into a miniature wildlife sanctuary, and Opti just keeps bringing in new plant species for his tiny friends <3

[fyrefrostanimus]

I love birds. You probably know this from me being hyperspecific about the species of birds my Voice designs are based on.

My passion alongside that is just researching those birds for fun and god does that give me opportunities for involving bird biology in my post-game AU.

Starting with Paranoid, since I have the most to say about him. He's based on a barn owl. In owls, the right ear opening is angled up while their left is angled down. It's important for tracking where a sound is coming from since owls are predators: if a sound hits the left ear first, it came from below and vice versa. Paranoid probably figured this out on his own and recommended it as advice, before being completely shocked that no one else's ears work like that. The facial disc's (the rounded heart shape you see on a barn owl) shape can also be changed to assist with hearing, although that's seen with other owl species more. So he can make his face look slightly different as well and it probably unsettled everyone to a small degree. And, wrapping up the owl rambling, owls can fly silently. Pretty sure everyone knows that. But their specialized feathers mean they're lacking the oil coating other birds have, hence the famous "wet owl" look. The group goes out when it's not raining, it starts raining on the way back and by the end of the trek home Paranoid is just barely recognizable.

Moving on, Cold is based on a wandering albatross. While nothing is proven yet, there's studies that do suggest that wandering albatrosses can sleep during flight. If that ends up being true I can imagine that freaking everyone out somewhat: Cold was not lying when he said he doesn't actually care where he sleeps.

Contrarian is a hummingbird. The specific species doesn't matter much, but a calliope hummingbird is what I eventually decided on. His wings are too small to allow him to fly (the ratio is off for him in particular), but he can move them fast enough in the same figure 8 manner that they make an audible buzz. And while I'm not about to make the stakes quite as high for him, hummingbirds need to be constantly on the move for nectar or they will die due to how much energy they expend. So rather than sleeping, they go into torpor (similar to hibernation) during the night. This would mean two things for Contrarian: 1. he is a sugar gremlin and you should keep your candy stash out of his sights, and 2. with torpor for hummingbirds lowering oxygen consumption by 99% and heart rate by 90% on top of body temperature being lowered, there is a good chance that everyone thought he was dead when they ended up checking on him in the middle of the night.

Finally, the loggerhead shrike. The basis for my Hunted design, and my personal favorite bird. It looks like a songbird. It IS a songbird. But these things are absolutely vicious with how they store their food. They'll catch a bug, or a lizard, or a mouse, or another bird, and they impale it on a thorn or piece of barbed wire. Loggerhead shrikes can carry prey as large as themselves (that they also usually killed by themselves) and know to wait to eat certain insects for the toxins to break down. Plus the upper part of their beak has "tomial teeth" thought to assist in paralyzing vertebrate prey.

Now imagine being pitted against Hunted with all this.

[ask-postcrash-curly]

Hello again, dear! Kind Words.

Just a follow-up... since last, I keep finding myself thinking about what kinds of birds you all would be! (Sigh. I even thought of one for Jimmy, yes. That man.) I know, quite silly, isn't it? I suppose I just couldn't help myself. If you don't mind me musing to you for a bit...?

[ https://open.spotify.com/track/219YZeCWcs99zpB1pKoQy7?si=8S-dJn9FRNmvsBJw5P_-9g ]

Curly: Blue Jay. I am sure you are familiar with these. Blue jays are recognizable for their iconic blue-and-black plumage, and they are quite popular among bird lovers! They are known for their intelligence, boldness, and loyalty to their tightly-knit flocks. A blue jay may represent good fortune, and chances for new opportunities within our lives.

Jimmy: Mockingbird. Unassuming little bastards - oh, excuse me - with loud and noisy calls. Don't be fooled by their humble appearance, though; they are known to be highly aggressive and territorial over their nests. I have heard they may represent a need for self-reflection and change. I frequently spot them bullying the blue jays in my neighborhood... and the squirrels. And the crows. And the neighbor's cat. Seems quite fitting to me.

Anya: Pigeon. Ah, the noble pigeon. Unassuming to most, and shamefully discredited for their helpfulness. They once played an important role alongside people as message carriers, but were eventually phased out and abandoned to city streets. Due to their domestication, though, they are now quite docile and tolerant of humans. I hear they can make for fantastic and loyal companions. They are common symbols of peace, hope, and freedom.

Daisuke: Hummingbird. Yes, everyone's favorite flashy, hyperactive backyard pollinators. They are just too cute to dislike, aren't they? They are known for their love of flowers' sweet nectar, as well as their speed and curious personalities. They symbolize unabashed joy, courage, and strength, and remind us to enjoy life's pleasures as they come.

Swansea: Trumpeter Swan. I am sure this one was obvious... the trumpeter swan is the largest swan species in North America. They are quite the loudmouths, with their signature "trumpeting" calls... and, like all swans, are known to be rather fierce and aggressive, especially regarding their young. Swans typically symbolize grace, beauty, and love... though, uh, I'm not sure how much of that is applicable to Swansea. You know him better than I. But they can also be symbols of wisdom and inner-strength, too.

And... that's everyone! What do you think, blue jay? I'll admit I may be a bit biased in my selection - especially yours, but I just couldn't put another bird to your name! Who couldn't be happier seeing a blue jay among the feeders, yes? They are just so charming.

Oh, gosh, I do apologize if all of that was terribly boring, though. It seems I certainly know how to chatter your ear off one way or the other. Feel free to stop me next time, yeah? (Whoops! I did it again.)

Ever watching the birds, darling! Cheers! 🐦

Hello again!

Hah, really? Course I don't mind. Please do.

(This sounds much nicer than the effects by the lounge's window screen...)

Awww. I can't agree with you that this sounds like me. I mean, c'mon, boldness? Good fortune? Please. Still, I'm flattered. Heheh.

Pfft. Can't much argue there. I thought cats were supposed to chase birds, not the other way 'round?

Pigeon, huh? This I have to hear. Mm, yeah, sounds like her... Peace, hope, and freedom. I like that.

Hah! That sure fits him. Always flitting about making some sort of noise (before the crash, anyways) and bouncing off the walls. Here's hoping he gets back there again. Hummingbirds are resilient, yeah?

Of course, of course. He really leans into the swan thing, you know. Even his keys are swan-themed! A fierce, aggressive loudmouth? That's Swansea all right. And— Hah! Hey, he's loving in his own special Swansea way.

I think you've got my crew pretty much down. Definitely biased when it comes to me, but I'm not complaining.

Nope, not boring at all! I told you over and over how much I appreciate your talks, yeah? It's more of a comfort for me than I can tell you. Please continue! (Hah. Yep.)

Cheers! (Psst. You did it again!)

[angel-of-the-moons]

Smut Request for Marc…

Marc Spector doesn’t want you to leave the flat, and convinces you to stay by “special” means.

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Convincing Argument

Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, Smut, Oral (Fem receiving), hair pulling, fingering Marc being clingy

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

He was being unusually clingy today. He would get like this sometimes, when Steven or Jake would leave him alone in control of the body.

Normally when he got like this, he'd lay across your lap, or if you were laying on your belly scrolling through your phone, he would lay across your back, his hands clasped over his belly as he napped. Sometimes he would simply wrap himself around you like you were a beloved teddy bear.

Other times... He would simply shadow you.

You could tell poor Marc didn't like to be alone, especially not when he was left to his own devices when Steven and Jake would melt away into their headspace.

But right now, you needed to go to the store to restock the groceries, and take a trip to the bank to pull out money to cover your share of the electric. And Marc... well.

He was hanging off of you, arms wrapped around your midsection from behind, locking you in a tight embrace you couldn't escape from.

"I need to go. If you want dinner tonight, Marc Spector, you will let me go." You huff, rolling your eyes at his theatrics.

"Please, baby." He groaned, exasperated as he kissed your neck.

"You're being a drama queen. If you don't want me to go, you can come with..." You offer.

"No."

Of course. Stubborn shit.

"Marc..."

"I don't want to be around other people right now, I want to be with you." He mumbled against your neck again.

"Why don't you spend time with Steven or Jake? Shoot some trivia or something?" You sigh.

"They won't answer. They said it was an "alone" day."

You pouted, brows furrowing. "So your solution is to be a human koala bear?"

"If it gets you to stay with me, yes." He says, 100% unashamed.

"Marc..."

"C'mon, babe. Hey, how about I try to convince you?"

Your turn around and crossed your arms as he lets you free, your eyebrow quirked high in skepticism.

"Plead your case..." You say, your tone dripping with irritation.

Marc grinned and crashed his lips into yours, pinning you to the front door of your flat as he delved his tongue past your lips, running along your teeth and your tongue before parting, almost too soon for your liking.

You frown at him, a cute little scrunch in your nose as you do. "Okay that might have worked, but I'm still mad."

Marc smirked and dropped to his knees in front of you, almost making you wince at how fast he went down, cringing at how his knees must be hurting thanks to the hardwood floors.

You gasped when his hands flicked your button open and unzipped the fly to your jeans, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops and curling his fingers through the waistband of your panties, yanking both articles of clothing down your thighs, placing a wet kiss to your mound, his nose tickling the short-trimmed hairs there.

You squeaked when he moved again, a man on a mission; slipping his head between your thighs, your knees now over his shoulders, still linked together by your pants and panties that couldn't have been pulled down past your boots.

You bit back a low whine when his tongue wasted no further time in curling around your clit, rolling it around as you sucked in a shaky breath, looking down at him as he used his thumb to pull back the hood of your clit just to greedily suck the little nub into his mouth.

Carefully balancing you on his shoulders, his fingers tease your hole as his tongue and thumb pushed and pulled, coaxing out some sweet nectar from the flower that is you.

Like a greedy little hummingbird so desperately trying to drink from a flower in a garden, Marc was on his knees, tongue lashing at your cunt with determined fervor as he used the pads of his fingers to spread your slick over your labia, making sure you were nice and wet.

"Oh fuck..." You whimpered, your thighs squeezing around his head as he continued to use his thumb to roll the hood of your clit back as he rutted his nose against it, his tongue joining his fingers in an attempt to spread some wetness over your core.

Marc, once he deemed your poor, puffy cunt slick enough, slipped his thick fingers inside, quickly rolling, scissoring and curling them in a way that was bringing your orgasm on fast, pressing up into your walls in tune with every stroke of his tongue on your sensitive little nub.

"Oh my gh--Marc!" You mewl loudly, your fingers shooting down to grip at his hair and tug, earning a deep and heavy groan from him, sending vibrations straight through to your clit.

He curled and thrust his fingers deeper, more feverishly as he felt your walls flutter and tighten around his fingers.

When he pushed up from inside, it added extra stimulation to your clit from within, and you simply couldn't take the sinfully fast coaxing Marc was doing to you. It was as if he knew your body better than even you did.

When you cum, you tug his hair again as you soak his mouth and chin, head thumping back against the door as you cry out his name in ecstasy.

He gave you a few teasing licks, each flick of his tongue sending bolts of lightning spreading through your body as he disentangled from you, carefully putting you back on your feet as he wiped his face clean, a nice, smug grin on his face as he looked up at you.

"Convincing enough?" He purred.

You tugged him to his feet by his hair, and hissed.

"You. Me. Bed. Now."

Ah, well, you could always order out for dinner and go to the bank tomorrow...

[would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend]

Beautifly, Mudkip, Grovyle and Lucario please 👌

Beautiflies may be adorable, but they would not make the best pets. This may catch you off guard (I know it did for me), but I suppose it just goes to show that you shouldn’t judge a pokémon by their looks alone.

As far as size goes, beautiflies are on the larger size when we’re talking about airborne pets. A pet that needs space to fly about, especially one that’s over three feet tall, is going to have needs that not every owner will be able to handle. Look at those tiny legs: beautiflies aren’t exactly the most nimble on their feet, so providing them with some open air to stretch their wings would be a must.

That being said, like with many pollinators we’ve covered thus far, you must be careful not to let your pet wander too far and get lost. Beautiflies don’t tend to stay in one place, traveling from place to place on the spring breeze in search of fresh flowers (Ruby, Sapphire). While, as I mentioned earlier, you would need to provide your beautifly space to fly around, you would need to keep an eye on them in the spring months, lest they fly off in search of sweet nectar. This would make keeping a beautifly rather difficult for a lot of owners. If you have a garden (or something like a hummingbird feeder) yourself, you may be able to incentivize your beautifly to stay nearby, but I’m not sure how long that would last. I mean, this is a pretty large pokémon: how many flowers-worth of nectar would you need to satisfy them?

Interestingly, the pokédex indicates that beautiflies are actually omnivorous, which may explain what they eat in the fall and winter months, where less blooming flowers are available. The needle-like appendage on their mouth is used to such nectar out of plants (HeartGold/SoulSilver), but that’s not all: beautiflies have been observed attacking prey by stabbing them with this appendage, before using it to drain their body fluid (Diamond). It’s hard to say if a beautifly would try to attack humans for this purpose, but it’s certainly possible. Perhaps this sort of attack would be non-lethal on humans, sort of like a real-world vampire bat. It would be… unfortunate… no matter what.

Even if a beautifly doesn’t choose to try and drink your fluids, they may attack you out of pure aggression. Unfortunately, beautiflies do not have a good temperament to be a pet. The pokédex describes this species as “ferocious”, “aggressive”, and “savage” (Emerald, FireRed/LeafGreen, Pearl). They are known to attack if disturbed in any way while seeking food (Black/White) or unexpectedly, whenever they are angered (Emerald). As far as the threat this species poses goes, you certainly wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of a beautifly attack. They can use their needle-like mouth to attack with moves like Giga Drain, Leech Life, Bug Bite, and even Poison Sting. Considering the size of their jabbing mouth, an attack would be painful at the very least.

All things considered, a beautifly would not be the best pet for many owners. They’re large, high-maintenance, and aggressive. Luckily, if you’re a big fan of this species, coaxing wild beautiflies to visit you from time to time isn’t that hard, so long as you live in a region where wild ones live. In the spring, leave a flower near an open window: you’re sure to have a beautifly visit you in no time (Ruby). Just…uh…don’t bother them.

[kiame-sama]

I have a question about the hae boys including Robin. What are their favorite foods.

Warnings: HAE Monster-men fav foods under cut, occasional mature themes throughout, the foodies of the group make themselves known,

Anything the Human makes ESPECIALLY ice-cream. If the Human didn't make it or he didn't hunt it, he doesn't want it. He will BEGRUDGINGLY eat the 'food' Lilia 'makes' because he loves Lilia as his father. When it comes to the ice-cream the Human can create, he will purr and flutter his wings getting even one little taste of the sweet treat. The cold soothes his own internal fire and cools down his body when he is heated, so he adores the sweet and cold treat.

Everything. Sebek is a bottomless pit of a crocodile-dog and he will inhale any food left near him. He has a voracious appetite and tastes to match. Sebek will be even more excited to eat if it is something that Malleus or the Human has created.

Silver actually likes nuts and berries more than the others. He will happily feast on anything the Human makes including nuts and berries, particularly fond of nut bread and fruit tarts.

Blood. Lilia is a Vampire Bat and needs blood for his diet to be considered balanced. He is mostly fond of the Human's blood but will settle for Sebek or Silver's blood if he has no choice. He also adores any red drink (tomato juice, red wine, strawberry juice, pomegranate juice). If it is red/orange-red, Lilia wants it.

Meat. Epel LOVES meat. Plants- especially trees- are voracious when it comes to meats and even bones. Bury something under a tree, and the tree will devour it and crack open bones to get to the marrow. Epel is a Cloud Apple Tree Nymph, he adores meats and will happily consume any meat left out for him.

Rook loves wild-game. If he can hunt it, he will happily bring it to the Human to cook it for him. From boar, to bears, to deer, Rook wants to hunt and enjoy the fruits of his labor. He is a Golden Huntsman and loves the thrill of the chase, getting to sink his teeth into his prey is just an added bonus to him. He will either dine on a fresh kill or request the Human cooks something with it. The Human won't even have to clean or cut the kill, just prepare the meat Rook gives them. He can eat domestic meats (cows, chickens, sheep, ect) but he prefers the gaminess of wild caught prey.

Smoothies. Ever since the Human introduced Vil to smoothies, he has been obsessed with them. He is half Peacock harpy, half Hummingbird Harpy, and the Hummingbird side of him is aggressive about nectar/sweet sugar water. The combination of fruits with sugar water makes Vil obsessed with the easy to drink smoothies that the Human has introduced to him. He is tempted to pay Idia for a blender for his own use, but would like the Human to teach him how to use them.

He likes traditional 'Human food', so basically anything that is cooked. He grew up with the Granddaddy of all Human protectors and Hades knows how to cook with the best of them. Anything the Human can create using his inventions will be happily consumed by the Shinigami.

Ortho is young and has a more delicate diet due to his injuries. Nothing too spicy and nothing too fatty is ideal for little Ortho. He has a particular fondness for sweets and steamed veggies.

Jade is partial to mushrooms. Before he met the Human, he would eat them uncooked and also force the mushrooms into Floyd's mouth to make his twin try them as well. Jade ADORES mycelia and various fungus. Once he encountered the Human, whatever the human makes using mushrooms has his heart. The first time he got to sample the soup the Human made almost made him cry out in bliss from how much he enjoyed it.

Floyd likes Octopus. Cooked, raw, doesn't matter. He is hoping- not so subtly- that Azul severs his tentacles to give to the Human to cook. He will weep in joy is the Human ever makes Takoyaki.

Fried Chicken. Azul nearly squealed and orgasmed when he finally got a hold of the fried chicken the Human made that one day. He could live the rest of his life eating it and he would never be bored. Anything fried has his attention, but fried chicken has his heart.

Spicy food. Jamil can't taste spice very well due to being a Naga, so he loads the food he makes with spices until he can taste it, which makes it almost impossible to eat for anyone excepting Kalim, other Naga, and Harpies. He loves loading up what he cooks with spice so he can sample and flavor the spicy foods as he wishes. Most other species can't handle the level of pure capsaicin he puts into what he cooks.

Kalim just likes to eat. He doesn't need to actually eat as he subsists off of the residual magic others let off in daily life, so he eats simply for the pleasure of eating. He is more fond of toothsome textures as opposed to soft mushy textures, but he is happy to eat anything at least once.

Donuts. Though Ruggie is a foodie and a bottomless pit who will eat anything that isn't actively rotting, he has a soft spot for the donuts the Human made for him. With icing or without, he doesn't care, he just loves a good and soft yeasty donut to sink his teeth into.

Meats. His preference is any kinds of meats the Human cooks (bacon especially), but he will just as happily eat raw meats of any kind. Leona is an obligate carnivore, so meat is important to him.

Jack likes fruits, surprisingly. He is more partial to the subtler fruits such as apples and pears over the citrus of other fruits. He does not like grapes and will start hacking if given a grape. Jack will easily put down an entire table of fruits if allowed to feast.

Ace likes leafy veggies more than other foods, from kale to lettuce, ace is happy to pack down whatever he can get his mouth on. He is not particularly picky when it comes to foods, and will attempt to eat things presented to him. He does not like eating bugs.

Deuce is partial to eggs. Raw eggs, egg shells, eggs the Human cooks, anything that includes eggs in them. He prefers bird eggs, but will settle for Lizard eggs or fish eggs if available.

Cater likes anything savory, especially if it has a bit of salt in it. If it is sweet, he isn't too fond of it, but will still eat it begrudgingly. He is more partial to meats given their inherently savory flavors, enjoying oysters, fish, critters that get too close to the water, whatever he can fit in his mouth when it comes to savory foods. He is particularly fond of the soups and broths the Human cooks up.

Bakery goods. Trey comes from a family of artisans who practice the sought out arts of baking. Though it is a dying form of art- as is most culinary practices thanks to the extinction of Humans- he has learned how to bake from his parents. He is more partial to sweets he can create and whole grain nut-breads.

Riddle is absolutely whipped for sweet bakery goods. Tarts, pies, sweet-breads, cake, all of the above is his favorite. He especially likes when they are warm and fluffy.

Neige likes seeds and nuts, similar to regular Mourning Doves. He is more fond of those already shelled nuts so he doesn't have to take time to crack them open, but roasted nuts will have him singing and posturing happily.

Che'nya likes warm foods, specifically warm meat. Be it raw or cooked, Che'nya likes the savory flavors. If it is cold, he doesn't want it. Warm breads that Trey makes, warm prey that he just killed, warm soups that the Human has made, he is a happy and purring Bakeneko. He also has a particular fondness for alcohols thanks to the warming sensation of alcohol and his Kitsune heritage.

Jasper is another obligate carnivore who enjoys meats. Jasper in particular enjoys eating reptiles. His particular interest is venomous snakes, as they are a high reward item to him and he likes the toughness of the meat itself. Beyond meats, Jasper is very fond of fruits like Durian and cactus pears.

Robin LOVES to eat rabbit meat. Either a rabbit he caught himself or a rabbit he has stolen from the larger predatorial species. He often steals meats from the Night Raven students, as he is an opportunistic feeder and will take anything he can grab if there is a chance he could have a quick snack and get away with it. Because it is so difficult to catch Robin in the act of thievery, he usually gets away with whatever he can take from others. Rabbit is his favorite though and he will go out of his way to catch rabbits to dine on.

Alistair likes to eat fruit tarts, mainly blueberry or strawberry tarts. He has a near insatiable sweet-tooth and will snack on sweet treats late at night if left to his own devices. As he is a royal, he has a castle full of artisans who are masters of their dying culinary crafts, so he has a more refined palette when it comes to baked goods. He especially likes grapes.

Kida is more fond of herbs such as lavender or mint. He doesn't need to eat as much as others given his status as an Air Nymph, but he is partial to the herbs that he can find growing around Sage island. He can eat if he feels so inclined, and he will be thrilled if these foods include mint, spearmint, and other such herbs. Kida also has a fondness for alcohol as he is Fae and has an extremely high tolerance for alcohol.

Rollo likes cheeses and grapes. Though he often avoids anything too liquid in composition due to being a Fire Nymph, he LOVES grapes and the cheeses that the artisans of Fleur city create. Given Noble Bell College is located in Fleur City, he has great access to these highly valued goods as the city itself is known as a hub for cheese and wine makers, being the primary exporter of such goods to the rest of the Shaftlands. Rollo has a particular fondness for red grapes over white, purple, black, or amber grapes. He thinks the red ones are sweeter and have a proper amount of tart to them that make their flavor profile more appealing to nibble on.

Anything and everything. He adores the food the Human cooks, but he grew up eating whatever he could get his paws on, rocks included. As a Hellcat he can digest things others typically can't, such as rocks, tree bark, and bones. He prefers whatever the Human cooks over anything else and will happily accept any food given to him by the Human.

Human foods. Anything Humans created is his favorite. He learned from his own sect of Humans how to cook and how to season things the way they did, so he keeps that art alive in his own day to day meals. He doesn't need to eat very much as he is technically not a living being, but he does adore the foods Humans crated before their untimely end.

Clay is an omnivore and an opportunistic feeder. Due to being a bounty hunter, Clay has very little time to stop and enjoy a meal, so most of what he eats is while he is traveling or whatever he can scrounge up. From insects, to birds, to small mammals, to fruits, to veggies, to nuts and seeds, anything he can eat will be consumed. He doesn't have a favorite food as he has never really taken the time to figure out what he prefers. In his mind he eats to live, not lives to eat. Where he does enjoy food- especially the foods that Hades and the Human cook up- but he has never taken the time to figure out what he prefers. He can't afford to be picky when hunting Poachers and Ferals in hostile environments. He'll even eat flowers.

[colacaridi]

based on your post about Simius diets;

They need sugar right? Idk why but my brain decided to click that they kind of work akin to that of humming birds! Just scavenging for any sweet stuff to keep em going!

Makes me wonder how fast the BPM of the Simius's hearts are!

yeah they definetely have a very quick metabolism, as their heartbeat is very fast. They eat several times a day and night to keep going. Going even a bit too long without food can be very dangerous! It is fortunately not as dire as hummingbirds tho Like them, tho, they like nectar. They will climb onto flowers and gather the stuff. That makes them occasional pollinators!

[docholligay]

Choose Your Own Adventure-- March 2024

Hello and thank you all for choosing to read this yet again! I am pleased to keep doing something. I am working on reminding mysaelf that the point of this exercise is to have something, and it is done in the sorta-kinda structure of a CYOA novel because I need permission for it to be bad, and we're all just having fun. I keep going!

Challenges abound, in this life. They are capricious and quick as lighting, they are as slow and earned as dark patches of mold. But the challenge itself is not so much the measure of this life, as how it is met. Some houses can be built grasping to a cliff, or piled firmly into a bog, if the builder is daring and willing. 

Lena Oxton was a daring and willing builder of her own life, and relished the challenge of an impossible feat. The corner of her mouth went up in appreciation of life’s little gifts of difficulty as she stood back for a moment and surveyed the house. 

“Nothing to be done but get inside, right? Not burglary, as I’m not planning on taking nothing,’ She reassured the house, ‘it’s only so cold and wet, right? Just going to get warm, and put Fareeha and that Tenoh girl into separate corners. Act of charity, that is.” 

She barely felt the rain, however heavy. The excitement of the game was too much, as her eyes flitted, hummingbird-like, over the little pots of nectar that were each possible entrance to the building. 

There would be no getting into the large glass doors at the ground floor, not without breaking something, and Fareeha would take a more or less dim view of that, as might whatever posh person owned this house, or worse, the national trust. That would be what Fareeha called, an incident, and she did try to avoid incidents. Lena liked to avoid paperwork, so on that score they could agree. 

But there was a trellis, running alongside those bright white columns, up to the flat roof topping that colonnade. Whether the roses were supporting the trellis or the other way around, it was hard to tell, however, and Lena suddenly found herself wondering if she should have had the whole pie set in front of her at the pub. And the mash. And the three ales. 

Well, no, the three ales were necessary, because the Tenoh girl had sat in a bloody Wetherspoons and ordered chicken katsu, had picked the place because there was chicken katsu, despite Lena telling her chicken bloody katsu was a bit less than local to the area and there might be better ways of exorcising the homesickness she did not have, and then been bold enough to act surprised when it hadn’t been straight out of Tokyo. So another ale it was, for Lena Oxton, and Fareeha could look at her as crossways as she liked. 

But the ales were had, and she needed to get into the window, so regrets and second thoughts would only be extra weight, and she dropped them to the damp grass. She took off her jacket and carefully set it under the small bit of roof over the doors. As if a bit more water damage could possibly make the jacket, with its crinkled edges, and stray threads, and a patch job with a dark stain around the edges of it, look any worse.

Lena gave a broad smile to no one and nothing in particular as she bent back into a deep stretch, her hands over her head. It would be easy, if the trellis held. That window up above was almost certainly not locked, so it was only a matter of careful wriggling. Nothing this old was built quite tight. It was one of the more charming bits of England, Lena thought, that the outside was always a bit in, if something had been there long enough. Like it had become part of the country itself, and couldn’t be properly separated. 

She lifted onto the trellis, and began her climb, her fingerless gloves only protecting her slightly from the thorns of the rose that climbed alongside her. She gave a small, rare thanks for being built the way she was--her feet slipped easily into the holes of the trellis, and she began to pick speed. 

Until the trellis seemed to realize that she was there, and its voice croaked, an old and blueblooded madam affronted by the gall of a dockworker’s granddaughter to presume she was welcome. Lena barely had a moment before the trellis slipped away from the rest of the house like an evening fur, but a moment was all she needed to jump to the edge of the roof and pull herself, inelegant and flat on her stomach, to the safety of the flat space. 

She was soaking wet, but she still took a moment to roll on her back and laugh. There were warm clothes in the van, she’d change as soon as she got back. The window was all that she could have hoped for and more, rotting at the very edges of the painted wood. Lena took a tiny penknife out of her pocket and slipped it into the edge of the sill at the bottom, hoping it was stalwart enough for the job. The rain had swelled the old wood, and it stuck firmly. She leaned on it a little more heavily, but to no avail. 

Lena rocked back on her heels and tried to think. She pushed up on the sill, strong as she could. She pressed and pressed, and then--a chuck of old wood came flying off the sill, onto the ground, but the window remained shut. 

“Oh, come on!” Lena implored the house, and leaned against the window glass. “Please just let me in. It’s bloody freezing, and no one else is making use of you, and--I promise I’m very respectful. Trellis aside. Also the window frame. In general, I suppose.” 

There was a strange ripple, that ran through Lena, a sort of deep thrumming that she felt rather than heard, and she stepped back from the window. Just to the left, a french window simply popped open. Just an inch. Barely enough to be seen. But Lena watched the house let her in. 

As she walked toward the window, in the back of her mind, she could hear her father’s voice, from far away. She couldn’t hear what he was saying as she climbed inside. 

__

Challenges abound, in this life.

Fareeha closed her eyes and took a breath. People often remarked that it must be so hard, being a military commander. Giving directives on the field. It was nothing to her. It is easy to give orders, when the only consideration is the wisdom of the order itself. When people follow instructions, it is easy to give them. The matter is closed. 

Command is easy, and management is hard. Sitting in a van in the rain, attempting to mollify the feelings of an overly-sensitive potential donor while putting up with needling of little her friend, was taking Fareeha to the end of her tether. She should have offered to go on ahead, and left Lena with the problem. She was better with people. She understood how to be charming, more easily. 

When she felt inclined to, which was sometimes the trouble with Lena. She did not feel thus inclined, on the subject of the Kaioh family representatives. 

So it was on her, to make connections for Overwatch, and so Fareeha turned to Doc, who was still sitting quietly in the corner, foot thumping on the bottom of the van. 

“Help me with something.” 

Doc nodded. “Can’t hurt.” 

Fareeha rolled her eyes, but flung open the van door and zipped her collar back up to its full height. Mina and Haruka were huddled under the umbrella, looking out at the dark fields, the possibility of a small town at the edge of them. The United Kingdom was so small, and yet they had managed to get so far from anything. It seemed to defy sense, but it had happened, and therefore it must be perfectly explicable. There were plenty of places such things could happen, even here. 

She cleared her throat, and Haruka and Mina both turned to look at her. 

“I--apologize. I am from Egypt, and, so, the cold and wet irritates me. I become difficult. So I have been told.” 

The corner of Mina’s mouth raised, but she said nothing. Fareeha walked toward them, letting her eyes rest on the dark road, and the bright white of the cigarette butt lying atop it. She bent down and picked it up, looking first to it, and then to Haruka. 

“You have forgotten your litter.” She swallowed. “ An easy mistake, of course. I will handle it.” 

She pocketed the cigarette butt and let her eyes drift along the edge of the darkness. Standing in front of the two of them, their eyes on her, expectantly, she realized that while she had resolved to allow Haruka to help her with something, she had utterly failed to figure out what the thing she could help with might be. 

Foolish. She was constantly chiding Lena over her impulsivity. She did whatever came to her mind first, and never thought a day, a month, a year past it. But at least her impulse came with it a certain quality of genius, while Fareeha had no gift for improvisation. She was a careful strategist.But here she was, barelling forward without the benefit of planning, and now the very people she needed to impress were staring at her with expectation as she stammered. 

“I was--I wonder.” Fareeha turned toward them, “If, the van being broken, we should wait for Lena, or follow to the house with her. I was hoping, Haruka, that you could help me decide. Which is wiser. I have not done many country drives, in places like this. I was told you like to drive in the country, back home.” 

It was smarter to stay, of course, even allowing for the fact that Lena was just as likely drinking a few pints and watching some football highlight reel right now. But Haruka would know the same, and could imagine herself an important part of the larger workings Overwatch. 

Fareeha wrested the words from her own mouth like a bone from a starving dog. 

“I need your help.”

Challenges abound, in this life.

What should Haruka say?

results! The spooky details will be posted down here as they are used in future chapters, so don't worry about not seeing them right now. I've got them!