#i really wanted the shiny frog ; A ;

[myblacknightworld]

Going out on a leg and exposing myself here, but am I the only one who lowkey ships Sabine Wren and Din Djarin?

[adhdvane]

i hit ‘a’ when the “oh?” came up and then picked my phone up to respond to a text and when I turned back asdlkfjsdgs, Shiny and a Girl?! (and in the foreign dad’s moon ball instead of mom’s healball, was excited to see which ball the shiny i’d get end up in.) she was egg 203 so i still have 37 in the boxes i need to hatch...

[satowooo]

" YOU'RE THE ONE I WANT IN PAPER RINGS. . ."

I like shiny things but I'll marry you with paper rings ft. gojo satoru, geto suguru, choso kamo, nanami kento.

contents. fluff, fluff, fluff, not proofread.

౨ৎ GOJO SATORU

“Shush, don't look!”

Satoru had been focused on folding a piece of paper for the past 30 minutes now, ever since you two sat on a table and planned to make paper flowers for the students to celebrate the year end. You just asked him about what he's doing, only to be replied with a scolding and him turning his back on you to hide the piece of paper. You could hear his small grunts and complaints every single time he messed up and redid it all over again, noticing him folding it in a different way from a paper flower and it was even cut smaller. It was the first time you had seen him struggling over a matter as small as folding papers, when he wasn't even having a hard time on the paper flowers earlier though, and Satoru seems to not be fond of not getting everything his way on an easier path either.

Since when did making paper rings become so difficult anyway?

“Okay. You don't want me to help with whatever that is?”

“No. Just stay put.”

You bite your lip to stop a chuckle, noticing the way his shoulders slumped when you heard him accidentally tore the paper, so you obeyed and looked away. He turned around again, leaning on the table to get another paper, and got to work. His slender fingers carefully folding and twisting, his eyes solely focused on it, with his brows furrowed in determination and even a small pout for the thousand of times he messed up and probably on the verge of giving up, if not because he was making a paper ring because wanted to please you.

It took him another good 15 minutes to do it right, a little wrinkled on one side but the heart on the ring was perfect. He scooted over to your side, and you finally looked at him.

He took your hand, and slipped the paper ring on your ring finger, making you gasp as you finally see the blue material fit you perfectly. “I did my best, baby.”

“Satoru!”

“I know it's not much, and I mean, I can probably give you a more expensive one with diamonds and shiny crystals but I just thought this one would mean more and much more endearing and I tried to make it after watching a video that I saw using my memory and I just think–” He stopped, blinking as he realised how much he had rambled. Satoru sighed, gazing at your hand, lifting it up to press a kiss on your knuckle, right next to the ring. “Do you like it?”

“Of course, I do!”

“Then should we call a priest right now?"

౨ৎ GETO SUGURU

It was originally Mimiko and Nanako’s ideas. The two girls lay on their stomach right by the floor with their feet swaying in the air, their homeworks long forgotten on either side of them. There were tons of papers around them, in different colours and shapes when Suguru caught them slacking around in their bedroom.

“Papa! Make a paper ring for Mama!” Mimiko suggested, patting the space between them so Suguru could join in the fun.

“Are you done with your homeworks, sweethearts?” He chuckled, taking his spot, laying flat on the stomach with his feet also high in the air like some teenage girls.

“Of course!” Nanako, who was obviously lying for the way she blushed and can't look Suguru straight on the face, as she pressed something on the origami that she made which was shaped in a frog, and it jumped towards his side.

Suguru couldn't help but be amazed, but also wanting to tease his girls. “Really? Can I see?” He said as he reached for their notebooks.

Mimiko was quick to act, slapping her dad’s big hands away with her small ones so he would drop it, then thrashing a bunch of paper in front of him instead. “Mama would like paper rings!”

And that's exactly how he found himself making one. With the help of his daughters, they instructed him on what to do for a good 15 minutes. He'd get confused sometimes every time they talked at the same time, instructions unclear when they talk about different things. But he got the hang of it, and it was perfect, as expected from Suguru.

Now, he's sitting on the bed, with his back pressed on the headboard, as he got you straddling his lap as you two talked about your day, while the two girls had gone to sleep.

“The girls were very enthusiastic today.” He said, his thumb caressing small circles on your inner thigh as he gazed at you. “They taught me how to make origami, and something else…”

“Hmm? What is it?” You replied, eyes filled with curiosity as you waited for him to continue.

You watched as he pulled something out from the bedside cabinet, a red paper shaped in a small circle. You couldn't see much because his hands were covering it a bit, but when he took your hand and wore it on your finger, you realised what it was.

“I made it, but it took all our efforts.” He whispered, watching as you gaped at the paper ring. “They're not the best teachers though.”

“It's beautiful…”

Suguru didn't expect the next thing you did. As you clutched on his shirt and immediately crashed your lips together, your hands coming to the back of his neck and deepening the kiss. Your lips dancing in harmony to the rhythm of your heartbeats.

He pulled away, breathless as he cups your cheek. “I'd ask you to marry me right now, but we'll save that for some other time.” He chuckled, pulling you in for another kiss.

౨ৎ CHOSO KAMO

It was a sweet gesture. Your boyfriend prepared all the materials needed and even borrowed his brother Yuji’s ipad so you could watch tutorials on YouTube. Ever since he saw you scrolling on your Instagram reels about making paper stars, flowers, little animals, hearts, and all other cute things, he was determined to do the activity with you. And he wanted to make sure that you'll enjoy it as much as he would.

“Let's make this one!” You scrolled onto a video, showing him a tutorial on how to make a scrapbook, which he agreed to.

You two worked on it right away, both of you busy while you cut some papers and draw on it, while he folds some others into shapes that would look good on the scrapbook. Once in a while, he would try to steal kisses on your lips every time he finishes one.

After a few minutes, you got up to go upstairs and print some pictures that you'd add on the book, leaving Choso alone with folding a new set of papers. This time, he made a mini bouquet, which was unexpectedly quite easy. And then last, the paper ring.

When you got back, you placed the printed papers on the table as you two got to work again. But your eyes caught the mini bouquet resting beside the others, and your eyes glinted.

“Choso! That's so cute! How did you make that?” You scooted closer to him, taking the mini bouquet in your hands, the paper tiny in your hands. “Are you putting this on the book?”

Choso blushed, nuzzling his face on your neck. “It's actually for you.” He muttered, his breath fanning on your skin that made you shiver. “They're small and cute, I thought you'd like it.”

You smiled, cupping his cheek so he could look at you. “Really?”

“Mhm. And I have another one too.”

He showed you the pink paper ring, and your eyes widened in shock. He was about to put in on your ring finger when you turned around, snatching something from underneath the table.

“Cho! I made you one too!”

Was it fate? But nevertheless, it got Choso blushing and almost kicking his feet as butterflies filled his stomach. His palms covering his mouth to probably stop him from reacting exaggeratedly while you slipped the paper ring in his finger. It was even the same colour as the one he made, and he swears his heart was about to burst.

౨ৎ NANAMI KENTO

How many times did you and Nanami get married this year? Three. Three times in a row. The first time was in a shrine, doing the Japanese traditional way of weddings, a wedding held privately with only your families. Second was at the church, with both your families and friends this time, with you wearing a beautiful white wedding dress as your husband awaits in the altar, looking as dashing as ever. And this might be the third.

“Honey, marry me.” He muttered, his feet tapping on the floor impatiently, watching you type on your laptop for a school document.

“We're already married, Kento?” You asked, glancing back at him once before you're back to rapidly tapping on your keyboard. The noise filled the air, together with Nanami’s sighed.

“I know. But you seem married to your laptop for the past few hours, honey.”

Nanami is not one to complain about this type of thing, in fact, he's a very understanding man that he wouldn't mind if you're stuck doing paperworks all day, unless you wouldn't be sparing him a glance, giving him a kiss, or a hug during the said day, and that would make him open up his concerns a bit. How many hours had passed anyway? Four long hours of torture for him, that he had convinced himself enough that he was the clingy one in the relationship and not you.

“Are you asking for my undivided attention, Kento?” You laughed, finally tearing your gaze away from your laptop as you spun your swivel chair at him.

He pulled the chair from underneath so you're closer to him, his right knee between your thighs as he leaned down to press his lips against yours. “Indeed. And I don't think I can live another second of you not talking to me for another hour, not even a kiss since this morning.”

“I'm sorry,” you giggled, kissing him one more time to show that you were truly apologetic. “Were you lonely?”

“A bit.” He sighed, caressing your cheeks, then pulled away as he leaned back on his chair. “You do look adorable when you're focused, honey, which I'm always pleased to see. But I have to give you something.”

He slid his swivel chair backward a bit, grabbed something on a nearby table and went back to your spot right away. He took your hands, sliding a white paper ring right next to your wedding ring. “I don't think you noticed me making this while you were busy.”

“Kento, how..?” Your eyes smiled with you, a testament of your appreciation and affection towards the man you love. You knew Nanami Kento had always been perfect, but he's even more perfect now that he took his time to make this for you.

He laced your fingers together with his, his heart warming up to the sight of you appreciating his small efforts. Kento loves it when you're happy, and would do anything to keep it that way for as long as he can.

“A few videos.” He shrugged, pulling your chair closer to him again. “Now, will you marry me?”

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Heyy! Could I request Jason x Child of Nyx! Reader, i'd figure it'd be a cool thing since you know Zeus and Nyx don't really like each other that and then their children fall in love.

You don't have to do it, if you don't want to and ps. I love all of your works! <3

okay so these have been sitting in my inbox since eons ago, so I decided I was gonna set myself a minimum of 0.4k words because I figured people would rather read a lil bit of their request rather then non of it, but I just churned out 1.2k words of this and I know more then the gods do about nocturnal animals.

enjoy <3

he was raised by wolves - Jason G x child of Nyx reader/animal lover

»»————-　★　————-««

Jason dumped his teddy bear jacket on the back of the spinning chair, after he checked there were no hedgehogs eating plum offcuts on it. He’d made that mistake one too many times. There were a lot of miniscule holes in the sleeves of his jacket. 

The medical kit he was looking for was most likely in one of the crates stacked beneath the snake table. The table with the snake tanks on it, obviously. 

Your cabin was dark a lot of the time, when you weren’t there, courtesy of the kingdom of nocturnal animals lurking between books and in pillowcases, so Jason had to turn on a few of the antique lamps you’d found [on the side of the road, of course] so that other people could see.

He got to his knees, wincing at the crack he heard. 

He could also hear a faint hissing. He looked into one of the tanks, and waved at Benjamin. Benjamin was a northern desert night snake. Meaning he looked like if a leopard wearing a choker was turned into a slithery little serpent. Jason was glad you’d passed that pet leopard you used to have onto Pollux and Castor. It got fur all over his clothes.

Benjamin just stuck his tongue out at him, and Jason crawled underneath the desk, looking for the first aid kit every cabin was supposed to have.

There was a pretty high chance you had chucked it out to make room for that little collection of shrinking green frogs you had found in a river by the Hecate cabin, deep in the woods so that when they accidentally cursed bloodlines and the like, no one was in imminent danger. Lou Ellen owed her first born to three different beings, but that was irrelevant. 

He dug past a few boxes of sugar glider pellets, and found the first aid kit. 

“JASON GRACE, SON OF A BITCH, CHILD OF ROME, CONSUL OF DEMIGODS, PRAETOR OF THE FIRST LEGION!”

Jason sat straight up. A thud echoed through the low lit little cabin, and his head began to pound. He’d hit it on the bottom of the snake table. He sniffed, “I said that once.” 

He heard you trot over as he tried to extract himself, the back of his head throbbing painfully. 

“Babe, we talked about this,” you fussed, and yanked him out into the open with the force of someone who took chocolate out of coyotes mouths on the daily. “You gotta stop banging your head! You’re getting that chronic pain from it that Will told you about!”

Jason grumbled about nothing, and squinted as he looked around. Your face was just a blob. 

“You dropped your glasses babe, hear, lemme… wait, hold this,” you said, dumping your wrapped up hoodie into his arms, the one with the moon cycle phases on the back, and then crawling back underneath the snake table. “I’ve got em!”

He watched you slide them back onto his eyes, your hands actually very gentle compared to the yanking from before. He tried not to grin stupidly. The hoodie in his arms wriggled. Jason looked down, and a small spiky red face looked up at him with big shiny eyes.

“Uh…” he said.

You stood up with a huff, “I knew it, you’ve got a concussion. Now you’re slurring your speech!”

“...No, I just wasn’t expecting a fox,” Jason managed to squeak out, staring at the little animal. It was pretty cute. It reminded him of a wolf, but not the wolves he knew, more of a spindly wolf dipped in ketchup. 

You paused, the first aid kit in your hands. “You weren’t? What did you think I was doing in the forest?” 

“I don’t know,” Jason said, standing back up and moving to the squishy blanketed bed behind the humongous crystal ball and stack of telescopes. There were also a few cat playgrounds to weave around, but he managed to sink into your pile of bat shaped teddies and pillows. “Fighting monsters, near death experiences, something regular?”

You rolled your eyes, and sat cross legged on the bed, reaching for his head with those gentle hands that made him understand how you could pick up the deadliest of spiders and feralist of wolverines without even a scratch. 

Jason wasn’t even nocturnal, but he did sink into your hold. 

Then you let go to crack the unfrozen ice pack and let the chemicals take over until it would make the tips of your fingers freezing. Jason knew to expect your cold hands under his shirt, trying to freeze him out. 

He was sort of used to it, though.  

He looked around your cabin while you savagely whacked the poor icepack against one of the many thick framed mirrors lining your walls. A few bats flapped out of their hiding places in the rafters and settled back down. A baby puma hissed from its place by the umbrella stand that was actually just full of swords. 

From the outside, your cabin looked like a tiny portion of a haunted mansion plonked between the Asteria cabin and the Hestia cabin, which was really just a cozy little room for anyone. Jason pet the soft head of the fox napping in his arms. On the inside, though, it was just old lamps and chew toys and even older mirrors. And a lot of poo bags. And record players. And Jason’s hoodies.

You were already wearing his teddy bear jacket, but he didn’t argue when you pressed the ice pack to his head.

“So, what were you really lookin for in there, babe?” you asked, taking back the fox. You held your hand out, and it disappeared into a shadow. 

“Bandages.”

On the other side of the room, out of a shadow, you grabbed a ziploc bag of raspberries. You pulled it back and began feeding the little fox, red staining your cold fingertips. 

“You know you can’t beat Beth, right?” you teased, looking up for a moment with those gorgeous eyes that made Jason’s head feel a little floaty. Or maybe it was just the injury. 

You smirked, “I mean, not that it’s totally not hot when you beat the shit out of people or anything.”

Yep. Definitely just the head injury. Totally.

Jason ate a slightly squashed raspberry. “I know, but I wanted to practise. I was gonna find Will. Can’t remember how to wrap my wrists.”

You passed over the fox, who wiggled out of the hoodie and curled around a fruit bat Squishmellow with a yawn, fangs stained with red that may or may not be berries or blood. 

Jason shuffled forwards on the bed, ice pack falling from his white blonde hair. “My turn?”

“I thought you were going to get the shit beaten out of you by Annabeth?” You said with a smirk. You had that shark tooth necklace on. Jason gave you a half hearted evil eye, and you opened your arms.

He flopped into the hug, pushing you both back onto the bed. A Tasmanian devil [how? You were in America!] and a grumpy looking white tailed deer and about seven different types of bush mice stared at you. 

Jason didn’t care. He snuggled into your hug, chin on your chest. Your fingers ran through his hair.  

He was your favorite feral animal. 

»»————-　★　————-««

[xmarchwarden-of-lothlorienx]

Two Halves of the Same Whole

Legolas x gn!elf!reader

Requested (Kinda): @legolastaint

Summary: “Ughhhh i NEED someone to write a legolas x reader fic where you just get to be feral little guys together. Please!!! I want running through the woods barefoot together, i want playing pretend!! I want catching bugs and frogs and the like and marvelling at their beauty!!! I want playing in a creek and catching fish and crawdads and shiny rocks!!! I want playing and making things out of all of our little found object collections!!! I want hanging out outside in the rain or during a thunderstorm!!! And i dont want it to be platonic!! I want this to be love!!!!!!!! I want this to be our affection for each other!!!!!!!”

Author’s Note: I hope I captured the vibe you wanted! As a feral little gremlin that grew up in the country, I’ve also wanted more fics like this :) It is a little short, but if you like it I can and will write more <3

The cold water of the creek was a direly needed refreshment. You had stripped off your boots, rolled up your pant legs, and were now wading in the shallow water. A splash from a few feet upstream told you that Legolas had decided to join you.

"Meleth nin, are you sure our friend won't mind us being late?"

"No, he will understand," you hummed. "Especially if we find a gift to bring him." The pair of you were on your way to visit a new friend, Willard, that resided in his own small corner of the Greenwood.

That is, you were on your way until you could no longer ignore the call of the creeks cooling waters. You intended to depart for Willard's home earlier, before the heat peaked for the day, but Legolas had been very particular when selecting wildflowers. He insisted the finishing touch for today's picnic be a marvelous bouquet that Willard could admire during the time before your next visit. After showing you the final product, you agreed with his vision, but now you needed a break from walking in the heavy heat of the afternoon.

"And what sort of gift would he like most," Legolas questioned.

"I think we will know when we find it." You scanned the creek bed for a glimmer of any long lost trinkets to gift your friend. The only thing to catch your eye was a school of small, shimmering fish coming to say hello in the water surrounding your legs. You softly laughed as they tickled and brushed against you.

"Do we have something that the little fish may enjoy," You called out to Legolas and gestured to your new acquaintances. A gentle smile, touched with affection at your care for even the smallest of creatures, spread across his face.

"I shall look, meleth nin." He returned to where he'd left the picnic basket on the shore, looking for something suitable to give the fish among what you packed. Legolas settled on some apples slices that he could further dice to a smaller size.

While bringing the bits of apple to you, something peeking out from the creeks sandy bottom caught his attention. He bent down and scooped it from the sand, gently swishing it around in the water to clean it off. The little treasure was a stone, more of a gem really, no bigger than a large coin, yet Legolas knew that this was it.

Legolas approached you, a grin plastered across his face as he presented the stone to you - its colorful and translucent surface resembling stained glass, smoothed and polished from the water. You let out a gasp, throwing your arms around him and nearly sending both of you tumbling into the water.

"It's perfect," you brushed a few stray strands of his hair away and pressed a kiss to his temple. "I know Willard will absolutely adore it."

-

You were walking side-by-side with Legolas, your hands intertwined while his free hand carried the picnic basket and yours carried the precious stone. The two of you were now approaching the large willow tree that marked Willard's dwelling.

You halted once you reached the tree, rapping the trunk with your knuckles a couple times, "Willard, we're here!" You shot a glance towards Legolas who had lowered and started to unpack the picnic basket. Kneeling down to a small gap where the tree's roots met the ground, you peaked inside, "Willard?" Your voice was met with a soft thud as Willard, the large toad that lived beneath the willow tree, hopped out of his abode to greet you.

"There he is," Legolas chimed in. "Perhaps we left him waiting too long and he laid down for his afternoon nap," he commented as he set plates and food down for the three of you.

"Maybe," You sighed, drawing your eyebrows together. "But I think our lateness will be forgiven once he sees his gift. Here," you placed the shiny stone several inches in front of Willard, who immediately hopped over to inspect it further.

"I think he loves it already, meleth nin," Legolas observed while passing you a flask of water to fill your cup with.

"I agree, I think you certainly have an eye for treasure, Legolas," a satisfied grace spread across your features.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips, "I think I most certainly do."

[yarmiko-art]

Watch out, kids, there's a man eating butterfly over there--!

Really wanted to make something like this with them for a while. I care for them so much. Wholeheartedly believe that those kids have a really deep bond

There's a lil tidbit down the post with me trying to do the character study on Gooey.

"I can't do it right," Gooey mutters quietly with clear sadness in their voice, looking at the crumpled wad of paper under their fingers. Whatever this thing was, it definitely wasn't a paper plane he worked so hard on for the ten minutes, sticking out his tongue with diligence.

The boy raises his head up, looking at a white speck among the green leaves. Kirby's planes flew easily and far without effort. One of them soared so high up that it got stuck in the crown of a tree, which stretched a huge pleasant shadow above them. A pretty orange butterfly perched itself on a white wing. Even it likes Kirby's plane better.

Kirby's paper frogs were better, too. They jumped on the grass as if they were alive - the boys just needed to lightly poke their flattened heads. Origami cranes gracefully positioned themselves in the shade with their wings spread out. Waiting for the wind to pick them up in the air. The doves were made of regular, even lines.

And Gooey couldn't even make a simple paper plane. Maybe the wings were too short to allow them to fly forward rather than fall, driven down by the force of the impact. Or maybe he was making too many bends on the sheet, constantly forgetting which corners to bend inwards. But it suppose to be so easy. Kirby made it look so easy.

Gooey looks at their hands in disappointment. Palm. Five splayed child fingers with a couple of scratches from carelessness. No different from a human one. Gooey grabs Kirby's wrist and puts his palm against his own, carefully comparing them. Frustrated eyes run from one hand to the other. Kirby doesn't mind. His free hand ruffles the blue dreadlocks on other's head in a soothing manner.

"Don't be upset. I didn't do it right the first time either."

Gooey unclenches the fingers, closing his eyes. He wouldn't be so upset about the first time. But this was the third one! Something was clearly wrong! He obviously did something wrong while morphing these hands—Huh?

The look of big dark eyes attracts something new. Kirby takes out a new sheet from the pile of paper pinned down by the picnic basket. He smoothes it out on the grass and lures Gooey closer.

"Fold it in half first," the boy draws an imaginary fold line across the sheet before Gooey hesitantly follows the instructions, "Neat! And now one more time. And then open it."

Fold the corners to the inside. Fold up the bottom. Corners again... Following Kirby's words was much easier than frantically trying to remember the next step in fear of ruining the sheet. Turn it on its side and in half again. Huh, Gooey doesn't remember such a step in the plane making. Although, maybe that's why they didn't couldn't do it right.

The sheet goes tightly under the fingers, bending unevenly. "It won't fly this time either," the boy tells himself, but completes the last instruction - pull the corners to the sides. He expects the paper to tear, but instead the origami in his hands opens up in--

"A boat?" Gooey blinks a little puzzled, and Kirby tugs at his elbow in the direction of the pond. The water was right next to them, splashing the knees, covered with herbal juice Two hands sink into the cool pool, allowing the boat to gently stand on the shiny surface. Gooey leans forward, hanging over the pond at a dangerous angle, about to fall into the water. But the boat is not sinking. Kirby takes a deep breath and blows - the light paper gives in, and moves forward, leaving a small ripple on the blue surface.

Gooey blinks again and their face breaks into a happy smile. It's strange, he can't remember what he was so upset about.

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices a reflection in the pond below him. Two little children - one in a white overalls, and the other in a blue robe. He raises his hand and the child from the pond waves back at him. Palm. Five children's fingers. Quite human.

[someidiot-withadhd]

So uhm…

Sanders Sides Fantasy AU!!!

Hehe..

Please I’ve spent four days on this

Explanations and extra details under the cut! And close ups of everyone!!

Well there everyone is!

So, for some basic info, this is kinda based off of D&D but I’m too lazy to give everyone classes and stats, so they just get races!

This is set in a world that Roman created in the imagination, and dragged everyone along with him. Maybe by accident, maybe on purpose.. maybe he was just missing the others.. it had been so long since they’ve all been together, so why not take them on an adventure!

Patton: A frogfolk! He’s already one of the shortest, and even shorter now! That’s doesn’t bother him though, if anything were to bother him, it would be the memory of his past experience being a frog… But no matter! If they’re stuck in the imagination until they finish their quest, he’ll just have to do what’s needed! (And he’ll collect every shiny thing he sees on the way, even if it puts him in danger!)

Logan: A faun. Not his first choice, but whatever makes the others happy. Thankfully, he got to keep his tie, and his book. That’ll help keep him focused in this unfamiliar world. And if only his fur would stay neat, no mater what he does it’s always unruly, it’s irritating.

Virgil: Mr. Panic at the everywhere finally has a form to match, maybe. A phantom? Well that fits. Although why is he neither an animal or human? Is it because he’s left the dark sides..? No.. he’s getting paranoid again.. and why does he have a knife?

Janus: yes he may be the two-faced snake of the group, but that doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy! He’s trying to do better, honestly. And turning him into a Hydra seems kind of mean, don’t you think? No this wasn’t his doing, he never wanted to be here in the first place.. well, if he’s here he should probably make the best of it.

Roman: A dragon, just like his dreams! Of course, he never expected to be a dragon himself, but the tail and wings are really cool! And besides, why not make the best out of his forced family bonding time! It’s not like he’s scared to talk to them after they’ve drifted apart or anything! No, the great prince Roman is fearless!

Remus: oh, what do we have here? Roman and co. are in the imagination? Well why not turn this to my advantage! We’ll see how they’re doing in there, and maybe pull some strings, take this into my own hands, and twist this to my liking. And I better change to match, besides, it’ll be nice not being cold blooded for a while. This will be an amazing little adventure, won’t it, ————?

So, all the dark sides have animal traits right? Why not take this a step further, and make them full animals!

Woah, thanks for reading this far! I’m super excited about this, but still, it’s only a concept, and stuff could change!

[drinkpisser]

MY HESITANT ALIEN FIC, HOW IT CAME TO BE CHAPTER 1 IS FINALLY DONE!!

(I thinkk!)

thank you to anyone who has been waiting, I really hope you enjoy! :D 🫶 it's been great to make

PREVIOUS CHAPTER (the prologue) :

----------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER 1: THE BUREAU

Like he had mentioned, it was the average summer night, albeit slightly chilly. Gerard had not long settled into the summer camp similar to the other teens who had wandered the woods all day. Even so, he found it difficult to relate to them. His dyed black hair was short and shiny from the humidity of the car ride there, though the streaks of red gleamed nicely in the sun- his eyes were sunken, glued to a drawing pad or species of insect that he would clutch into his hands and inspect, and he found it detrimental to attempt mingling beyond his limited social battery level. He simply wasn't ready to engage in interaction with an unfamiliar face, and I'd say that's pretty understandable. He found it reasonable to head to his dorm early, briefly skittering past the other kids and finding comfort within the spring mattress of the bunkbed.

With a sigh, he pulls out a rented comic book he had stashed beneath his pillow. A classic Batman issue, to be precise. As his eyes fluttered from one panel to the other, they grew heavier and heavier- eventually, he had wandered into the land of dreams (with a cameo of laser beams and men in spandex) shockingly early, substituting his stuffed animal at home for a comic book.

Not too long later, murmurs and tiptaps of tired campgoers slid past Gerard's unconscious mind, leaving him in little less of a deep sleep. Goddamnit, he just couldn't get back to it after that. Tossing and turning, time passed slowly. Toss. Nevermind, turn. Toss again. Turn.

What's the use, he thought, before laying still in defeat. Unfortunately, a short while passes by, and Gerard's eyes are still straining shut, unrelaxed.

All of a sudden, a warm, unwarranted apricity fell upon his face. His eyes blink awake in confusion, squinting at the brightness of the mystery orb in the sky. Everyone is asleep. He sits up, with slight haste and panic- how is nobody concerned about this?

A polite whisper of "What the fuck is this?" leaves Gerard's mouth, what a strange prank to pull if it is one, he thought. Of course, like any other naive teenager would, he swiftly leaves the dorms to check it out.

Outside, it's extremely windy; Gerard wished he had brought his blanket with him- rather instead he retrieved a long, wooden stick he found rested against the doorframe (for self defense) like it'll do much against a giant mothership. His messy hair is now messier, the small fringe he once had brushing rapidly left to right in the breeze. As he cautiously strolled past the shelter of safety, he took a deep and dry swallow to build up the already dissolved courage within him. If you asked him, he'd say isn't scared at all, he's had traumatic nightmares worse than this. In other words, he'd be lying through his teeth. It's the middle of the night in a forest, the most intimidating concept ever for a young and vulnerable person. Every step impersonates a cracking eggshell, every blink or twitch of a muscle echoes like a gunshot. Crows flock in an alarmed state, frogs and rats huddle together under drip-tip leaves. Foxes flee in unison with the hedgehogs they were chasing.

Why on earth did he think this was a logical idea? It's a catastrophic idea- which means he's still going to go through with it. Determined, even with shakily numb legs. Thankfully, by now, the occurrence that woke him up is in full view so he can save himself the trouble. He ends up resting against a wooden fence, pausing, gazing in awe at what was above him.

Graphic gleams illuminate the dull night in all colours beyond imagination, sourced from an outstanding construction of metal balanced in the night sky. Almost akin to if they invented a portable northern lights kit that can be used anywhere, it spun slowly, as though it was scanning the strange organism that was staring upon it. The lights from the sides of the cockpit shut off without warning. Sliding doors beneath the ship clang open, sending small sparks flying into the stars.

Red.

It's all red. A red light, aimed directly at Gerard's exposed forehead. It warped the grass to a strange brunette, the buildings to a maroon and the fence he was leaning on to a crimson. An ambiguous voice within that colour told Gerard all he needed to know- run. Get the fuck out of there! The last thing he needed on any historical record of his was "kidnapped by a strange vehicle", and it's sure to be impossible to explain to his parents or the police, so he'd best act quickly!

That he did. Running as quick as his body could take him, wary of hazardous rocks and tree stumps that could screw him over. As predicted, the machine begun chasing. It didn't appear to be hostile- shooting or sending out traps that could catch him, it just.. chased. Gerard looks back, pathetically lunging the wooden stick at the fortified metal. The machine looks behind itself in confusion and unphased, leaving Gerard puzzled. Did it even know what was going on? Was it just playing copycat to toy with him?

Nonetheless, he continues to sprint more than he ever had planned to at this stay. Absolutely terrifying.

SPLASH!!

Brilliant, just great! He's gone and fell in a swampy puddle, grazing his knees on sharp ground. His hands sting, but he endures, forcing himself to ignore the hisses of agony as he gets back up. Limping like a champion, he struggles his way into a nearby porta potty. Not the most hygienic or convenient but this is a pretty rational situation to be complaining.

Once he was inside, he realised there isn't much at all he can do to improve his pain. He grabs the half used, thin toilet paper and wraps it around his wounds, begging his senses to blind him from the putrid smell of the enclosure he's settling in. Petrified of leaving, he crafts a makeshift blanket out of his comfort hoodie, placing his pins and badges to the side. Because he is wearing shorts, he resorts to a foetal position to successfully contain the warmth of the hoodie blanket, also creating a third useful tool of a gas mask with the hood itself. He looks ridiculous. He surely feels it. Yet exhaustion had hit him like a pile of bricks; he soon falls back to his state of slumber in here. In a summer camp bathroom. Wrong. It's worse than that, a porta potty with barely any space.  The interview from the prologue was right- you really couldn't make this shit up.

The next morning flows by perfectly. Birds sing a harmony, everyone is well rested. The ideal summers day, unless you're the nerd snoozing away in the trashy, unused camp toilet. The door is about to be unlocked by a relatively unhappy janitor who is definitely not paid enough for this... Dare I say, shit?

The door cracks open with a thud, hitting a filthy Gerard on the side.

"Oh, what, the door's jammed again?" The janitor complains before seeing the adolescent. His wrinkly eyes tweak, and he holds back several cuss words in surprise.

"Get up. Come on," he snaps, dragging Gerard out by the arm. Groaning, he shoves the cleaner away and composes himself.

"Look, I can explain- I was being chased by some spaceship! It was seriously a fuckin' mess. I'm covered in cuts from it- see?!" Gerard then shows him his battle scars from that mighty fall he took.

"Yeah, well, alcohol isn't allowed here. Being chased by aliens isn't a solid alibi either. Trust me, I tried it," The janitor snarls nonchalantly, sighing, "just get back to campus and clean up."

He shuts the porta potty door. Damn, he must be responsible for that tragic leftover shit-stench.

Gerard frowns. This, he did not consider. Going back to everyone- the people he'd barely even brushed past, without introducing himself the way he wanted. Now they're all going to know him for sure. Probably call him stupid names, humiliate him and such.

However, if it wasn't for who emerged next, he could have cried a river.

A chirpy, curious voice.

"Dude, I don't mean to embarrass you but did you get lost in the sewers?" the voice chuckles.

Letting out a small shriek, Gerard turns around.

An approachable looking young man stood before him, shuffling his feet with a sense of innate awkwardness. The boy was surprisingly tall for his age, and had the most wonderful curly locks of hair Gerard had ever seen. Somehow he knew by the shirt he was wearing that they'd hit it off straight away. Any sense of shame Gerard had dissipated, as the subject of music is one he exceeds in. Maybe this was his perfect chance to finally befriend somebody here!

"Holy shit," Gerard smiles, "The Smashing Pumpkins? I love their music, man."

"Ah, so we aren't gonna adress my question? Alright! Yeah, I listen to them a lot. I know a few songs on guitar too." He replies, impressed.

"My name is Ray. Weird circumstance, but you're pretty neat and... certainly interesting! Wanna be friends?"

Bingo, that was easy. Gerard almost exploded in excitement that his band tactic worked, but he resorted to a chilled nod and kick of a pebble.

"Yeah, sounds cool. Name's Gerard...

Uh, I would explain why I'm covered in mud and probably shit too but I don't wanna be accused of drinking by somebody I barely know again..." he mumbles.

"It's fine- I know a way we can get to the showers without passing anybody. Then I'm so down to hear all about this!" Ray chuckles ecstatically  before wandering off.

"I suppose i have no choice but to follow, or else my ass'll get kicked by that janitor." Reluctantly, Gerard trails behind his new buddy, sneaking past anything that looked like a person or member of staff (not to say they arent people or anything, they're just a hindrance at this certain moment in time).

"At least I can get a laugh outta this in a few years," he monologues to himself whilst hiding behind a tree.

Ray slowly turns, confused both as to whether he was being spoken to or not and the fact this douche is pretending to be a tree.

"Yeah.." He smiles, unable to conceal a short burst of laughter.

They continue on their miniature voyage, finally making it to the shower room unscathed. The two wave a slightly uncomfortable goodbye, and Ray takes a seat outside, twiddling his thumbs.

A short while later, Gerard walks out, thankfully no longer covered in mud. He smiles, greeting Ray once again.

"Thanks for waiting," he says, holding his clean hand out for a handshake. Ray, with the reassurance that there is no more mud, shakes it.

"No problem, you wanna head to camp? I'm pretty sure it's lunchtime."

"Sounds like a plan." Gerard adjusts the geeky pins on his hoodie, making his way to the benches.

At the benches, there sits a group of four. Gerard avoids direct contact with their faces at first, in the dire case that he's only there for a small punchline. Ray introduces them all, but the names don't stick. Nerves have struck Gerard's mind like a vigorous thunder, preventing him from paying his most full attention. Nodding does the trick, so he just went along with it. After sitting and shuffling, attention once again falls to Gerard through a demanding whisper in the ear.

"What happened to you, then?" Ray enquires.

"No judgement, alright? I can barely get my own head around it," Gee releases an intense sigh. It seemed to go quiet, or was it just his imagination?

"I was chased by strange figures in a giant ship looking thing. It was beautiful at first until I thought I was going to die. It seemed to be after me specifically, and I almost fell right into it's trap whilst everybody else was fast asleep."

Ray's expression dropped like an astounded cat. Maybe Gerard had forgotten to use his indoor voice due to the exterior surroundings of the forest, but the whole table had suddenly earwigged. Silence had truly struck this time. A brief calm before the storm, so to speak.

Laughter invades the air like poison in an airvent. The barricades of comfort were banished and giggles screeched like nails on a chalkboard. Shame for ever saying a single word ever dawned on Gerard with a pile of regret.

"This dude's nuts!" a preppy girl whines.

"Whatever he's on, I want it.." a curtain-banged boy adds.

"Why'd you bring this freak here?" some jerkwad adds.

"Hey now, come on- he's just got here! If it wasn't aliens, it was surely something." Ray defends, but it's futile.

Its settled. He's done for. Gerard's done for. He knows full well, ducking down in silence. Just like he had worried, it isn't working. He's alone at this place, and not in the preferred introverted way he'd wished.

He could die here alone.

He could die alone point blank.

That being recognised, he grabs his satchel teary-eyed and rushes off. Being accused of lying when all you speak is truth crucially damages your self assurance, your fragile confidence, your efficacy as a living, breathing person. Usually it wouldn't phase Gerard at all, but salt had definitely been rubbed into those vunerable wounds. I mean, without a doubt it's a phenomenal story to tell to a stranger. Chased by aliens and all that junk. Yet what a laughing stock he'd become in his vacant mind, weeping his heart out behind the main office he fled and hid behind.

He wanted to go home, back to his younger brother and cluttered bedroom. Back to the dainty hallway filled with shelves of vintage dolls and trinkets. Back to his drawing desk and flickering lamp. Day one and he was already through with it all. He'd rather not get out at all than suffer another minute pretending he's enjoying himself in the cruel wilderness.

Without warning, the overwhelming stream of thoughts cut off with that same chirpy voice, however this time it approached gently.

"Thank god I found you, really. I didn't mean for all that to happen-" he's soon interrupted the blinded humiliation of Gerard's anger.

"Screw that! It was your plan all along to put me in the social shit. You just wanted me to look decent whilst you did it! They clearly ain't impressed by you on your own so the nearest idiot you found made the cut! I get it! Rub it in some more." He scrapes words through tears so warm that they're steaming, almost not completely aware of what he's spewing.

Ray's pleading face grows in distress; it's true that the people he'd lingered with weren't the most welcoming of friends. He'd just happened to have met them during a group activity and thought they we're right for him. He was never in their group, he was just with their group. In that moment, he was willing to sacrifice them all for someone he'd not long met after seeing an unusual spark in his eyes that they didn't posess.  Aware of the room that needed to be read, he sits a fair distance from Gerard, quiet.

A few minutes pass by consisting of Gee huddled up within himself and Ray staring with guilt.

Forcing out his voice once more, Ray apologises.

"I've needed that lecture for a while, really. They're full of shit. I honestly just wanted to help you out- I thought they'd find you cool just like I did, you like similar stuff to them-" Ray rambles and trips on his words, desperate for an understanding response.

Fortunately, Gerard had calmed enough to not verbally vomit every thought in his brain this time.

"... I know," he reassures, "I just didn't wanna mess this up, yknow. The reason why I was brought here by my parents was so I could experience more things and a big part of that was a need to be liked," loathing away at himself, Ray listens and "mhms" until he can barely restrain his words any longer...

"I believe you."

"What?" Gerard's head perks up in disbelief.

"We don't need them to either, if more than one person believes then it's credible. Something in space is out there and you we're lucky enough to discover it, Gerard!" Ray forms a contagious smile as he speaks, erupting excitement as he does.

"I suppose.." a glum smirk passes Gerard's face, quickly turning to a grin. "Alright."

The two stand together and hug it out, walking back from the secluded area at the same pace, yapping all the time away whilst skipping day classes.

The afternoon quickly fades to the evening, the sunset tainting the busy perimeter with a sense of euphoria. All throughout that time, Gerard couldn't help but participate in small ventures of the camp activites with slight eagerness, collecting logs and sticks for the bonfire at the highest speed he could maneuver. As the fire erupted, he watched the flames dance with fascination. Being a self proclaimed pyromaniac and all, it helped him relax.

Even with a time of turmoil ahead, a deep puzzle within him had been solved, a message he needed to hear ever since the trainwreck of last night slammed its breaks.

That somebody believed in him.

[ end of chapter 1 ! ]

[moonybug444]

toxic!boyfriend connie who does not care!! even starts shit in front of his lil siblings :((

sunny n martin call you sissy🥹🥹n they call connie bubba!! tw both reader nd connie are lowkey abusive | name-calling | really toxic | reader may or may not be a cheater kinda left it at that.

you’re holding sunny’s tiny hand and adding the finally touches to her hello kitty themed nails, listening to her babble on nd on about this ‘cute boy from school’ n how her ‘hairs getting longer by the day’ n how shes just so excited to go shopping with you again.

you don’t mind though, in fact you love it. you’re glad she can pour her little heart out to you every once in a while when you come over. i mean she needs it, she’s technically always around boys. connie’s always got his friends over, n little martin—if not following connie around everywhere like a little puppy he’s at her hip yapping her ear off abt monster trucks and how he can do 3 pushups in a row now and as proud of him as she is, that’s definitely not what she wants to talk about.

she’s got a sparkle in her eye when you give her a cheery, ‘all done, girlfriend!’ and kiss her button nose.

she really does love you so much. she hates how mean connie can be to you sometimes.

no matter how much you try and hide it, she sees right past you. always giving you love filled hug.

connie’s walking in his little sisters room a beat later, little martin right by his side with his wolf plushy in hand. chubby cheeks dusting pink when he sees you. he’s just too darn cute. connies looking down at you n sunny sitting crisscross apple sauce on her frog shaped carpet with little nail stickers n gems scattered around.

“there you are,” he runs his hand over his tanned face, “been tryna keep ‘er all to yourself huh, sunny?” sunny giggles loud at that, popping up cheerfully n stomping over to connie.

“look what sissy did to my nails bubba!” she waves them in his face, cheeks clubbing up even more when she sees him look down at the nails, going into weird big brother mode.

hes grabbing her under her armpits and twirling her in the hair screaming that now shes ‘of the hello kitty royal family’ shes smiling impossibly wider and laughs along with martin and you.

you love how connie’s siblings excepted you almost immediately. moving from first name basis to the occasional nickname and then the sissy title fairly quick.

love how sunny’s always the first one to greet you when you step in their cozy home dragging you along, trying to spend all her time with you.

love how martin is always so much of a ‘gentleman’ to you—connie says you’re his first crush. you cant help but smile at that. ‘he’s always blabbing about you,’ connie’s mocks his baby brothers high pitch voice. ‘when’s sissy comin over connie, i wanna show her my new toy.’ and ‘m’movin away…gonna live with sissy!’

that should be enough for connie. enough for him to stop the name calling around them and the random arguements. turn on his filter at least a little!! but nope doesn’t matter when or where, when connie springer has something to get off his chest.

he’s gonna get it off n not think twice abt it.

>_<

connies laughing. laughing at you. it’s not genuine at all, he’s just trying to tick you off but it sure is working. you feel your face burning with every cackle that leaves his pink lips. acrylic nails digging into the cute mini skirt you've got on out of embarrassment.

he’s been going at it for some time now. you were upset because in the middle of chilling in the living room on the couch with sunny n martin—ponyo replaying on the tv for the nth time, he snuck up behind you, watching you scroll on depop looking at some new bikinis for a second before swiping it right outta your hand.

thinking it was just connie being silly, you ask for it back with a pretty grin on your face and a faux pout on your shiny plump lips.

but why does he look so mean? whys he chastising you for wanting your phone back? whys he embarrassing you and implying that you're a cheater in-front of his baby siblings?

because connie was bored.

‘why ya want it back so bad?’ he’s taking the hand not holding your phone and rubbing over his shabby overgrown buzz, putting on a huge smile for you before making a show of dropping it meanly. ‘got shit to hide?’

of course you don’t! you’re a lot of things but a cheater is certainty not on of them. and you tell him that.

he doesn’t listen though. pushes you down by the shoulders harshly when you try to reach up for your device and tells you ‘and stay down.’ like your some kinda dog or somethin. that’s the stuff that brings tears to your eyes.

>_<

hes not laughing as much anymore now. just letting out little giggles and trying to catch his breath. “you’re a crybaby. over a fucking joke. seriously are you—”

you keep reminding yourself that sunny n martin are watching. that you’re already a sobbing mess and you don’t need to embarrass yourself further in front of them. but all that goes out the window when hearing connie’s boisterous laugh grow louder.

“s’not about that connie! hic you-you dont fucking respect me…!” it’s true he doesn’t. you can tell he’s not even really listening to you right now, scrolling through the insta messages on your phone.

“not a fuckin cheater huh? what’s up with all the boys in your phone then huh slut?” he’s ducking the marc jacobs bag you throw at him just barely. there’s more tears pooling at your lash line. “don’ call me names you stupid asshole!” you're stomping over to him to do..something! you don't know yet, just know you wanna hurt him.

it takes a while for you to calm. connie has to hold you down after you’ve thrown half the shit in his living room at him n delivered one harsh slap to his face and scratching him up a bit. he’s calling you all sorts of names in the process. ‘slut, dumb-bitch, whore’ names that had sunny covering her little brother’s ears. it doesn’t help.

little martin’s brows are furrowed when his little sister jumps at a loud crash—its connie pushing you into the freshly restocked dishwasher, he looks up at his big sister, a pout on her lips and her little fists clenched and tucked to her sides.

connie tells them not to call anyone bad words. and if they do they’re reserved only for bad people. so martins confused.

“s’wrong sunny, big sissy’s not bad.”

>_<

you’re in connie’s room now, sitting on his bed watching him watch you. you look down.

you’ve calmed down but your still crying. connie’s wiping at your face and cooing at you. you feel your nails tighten in your skirt. he still has your phone—satisfied with the mini insta check he did—he placed it in the band of his boxers for now, he’ll check it better later. right now he needs to pacify his baby.

“s’just n-n-not fair hic connie..you take- hic take mine whenever, but hic m’not even allowed yours..” you’re nervous more than you should be, slowly looking up at his handsome face preparing for the worst. he’s already looking down, pulling you further in his lap. making sure to press a few kisses to your forehead.

“dont you ever do some shit like that in front of my siblings again,” he’s huffs, completely disregarding what you said. you wince when he’s tightening his grip on your hips and snarling at you, getting real close to your face, “all because you wanna be a fucking drama queen, you ruin the whole fucking day.”

you’re mad at him, so mad you cant help but start crying. again. you’re telling him how you didnt ruin the whole day..but your brains tellin you otherwise. theres snot coming down your nose when you tell him sorry and how you’ll never make a fuss about it again.

youre getting up heading to sunny and martin who are sitting in the kitchen, waiting for you n connie to come out the room holding hands like always.

but it’s just you with dried tears and a soft pout on your face. you’re bending down in front of them and they’re immediately pulling you into a calming hug.

>_<

you’re sleeping soundly in connie’s bed, pretty french toes peaking out of the big dark blue comforter draped over you. connie took a shower with you after completing ponyo again with sunny and little martin. you felt sleepy so he took you to his room and kissed you goodnight, promising your phone would be next to you when you woke up.

>_<

connie’s in the kitchen fridge door wide open with nothing but his plaid blue pj pants, drinking some of that good flavored coffee creamer n scratching the toned abs on his tummy, fully expecting everyone to be sound asleep. so he’s confused when he hears tiny feet running up to him followed by painless stomping on his sock clad foot. he looks down. oh, his baby brother.

he’s angry. little fist bunching up around his wolf plushy. trying to look as intimidating as possible.

“connies mean!” hes got tears in his eyes just thinking about it, “made sissy cry, s’not like a gentleman at all,” he puffs out. says ‘gentleman’ like ‘ganndleman’ and connie cannot take him fucking serious.

“alright,” he says it with a huff. lifting his wounded baby brother right off the ground, nd on his hip watching him thrash around. trying his best to hurt connie. “quit it.”

it doesn’t take long for the big boy facade to drop when connie’s rubbing his back and turning on ‘ponyo’ yet again. s’really the only movie he’ll watch. they’re chilling on the couch while martins’ sucking his thumb staring up at connie. connie’s used to his baby brothers weird habits. like staring at him 24/7 and gravitating towards connie every time he’s working out.

plopping his butt down on his brothers back when he sees him get in a push-up position.

“bubba why’d ya call sissy all those mean names,” he’s popping his fingers out his mouth, “said s’only for-for mean people..sissy’s not mean. sissy’s nice.” connie’s ruffling his head.

“s’cuz bubbas’ dumb sometimes.” he’s taking a breath. choosing his words carefully. “y’know i make mistakes too. (name) forgives me though so—”

“papa says that you learn from mistakes—”

“i have learned marty—” connie feels his brows getting pulled up.

“why do ya keep doin em them silly!” martins giggling at his brother. he doesn’t know how it’s possible—making the same mistake not once or twice but more time than he can count and still not catching up.

and connie doesn’t either.

[sunshinerainbowpuppy1224]

stardew valley fave animal HCs ^0^

i've wanted to post this for a bit!!!!!! i thought of em all >:3 !! PLEASE NOTE NONE OF THIS IS CANON -- ALL OF THESE ARE HEADCANONS I THOUGHT UP !! ALL FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES TO LEARN AND KNOW MORE ANIMAL SPECIES THAT MIGHT BE GOING EXTINCT !!! GIANT NERD ALERT !! ` ------------------------------------------------------ Leah fox, specifically Red Fox (Cross Pelt; AKA Cross Fox) and Painted Dogs. Enjoys the Art side of their pelts and adores how they blend in. In her own words, "The art of Nature is within the Fur of the owner" (extra: hognose snake, chameleon) Abigail Mongolian wildcat, panther. Enjoys the cute side of cats as well as the hardcore style of them as well (hence the panther), totally has a panther tattoo somewhere (extra: Bombay cat, silver-pelted red-fox) Emily Aye-aye, monkeys. LOVES little baby monkeys, goes onto rants how she would make dresses for them like the ones on the internet. finds the Aye-aye to be misunderstood-- their cute yet creepy faces making her lil heart melt. no one understands why she likes them so much (extra: rainbow trout) Haley Tigers (White pelt). Firm believer of the "big cat bigger heart". Adores how gorgeous they are, how shiny the pelts look. Though a large lover of all tiger pelts, the black stripes against white fur struck her interest more (extra: leopard, painted dog) Maru Dolphin, Otters (River). really enjoys sea animals, but yet loves smart animals. She believes that they're misunderstood creatures, defending them with all her heart (extra: emperor penguin) Penny Giraffe, Bear (Kodiak breed). LOVES how beautiful they are, yet they keep to themselves. She isn't loud about her love of these animals but yet shares if mentioned (She's usually called a mama bear by the children of Pelican town) (extra: Harp seal) ------------------------------------------- Harvey Whale (Blue whale), Bernese mountain dog. When he was young he owned a Bernese Mountain dog-- Often talks about her when dogs are the topic. "She was the sweetest thing" he often states. Whales are his weird enjoyment, does A LOT of research on them & goes whale watching at the beach. Watched a film where they were flying overhead the main characters like airplanes!! loved them ever since (extra: Holland lop, African bush elephant, glass toad) Elliott (OTHER THEN LOBSTERS I SEE UR REPLIES FROM THE FUTURE) Amur Leopard, Vaquita . enjoys how gorgeous these animals are, the big doe eyes of these creatures giving him a little dopamine. Gets fairly upset once he learned the extinction of the Vaquita (extra: khaki Campbell duck ) Alex Ploughshare Tortoise, Golden retriever. Has had a little tortoise since he was young, he named him "Junior" but spelt it like "joonyer". Alex is very on that "Golden retriever boyfriend" trend and tries his best to be that

(extra: fried egg jellyfish, dik-dik) Shane (OTHER THEN CHICKENS) Hirola (Antelope) and Ant eater (southern tamandua). Finds them so weird, yet finds them so lonely. Finds himself looking into the eyes of Prey and relating so harshly. (extra: hereford cow, tamworth pig) Sebastian (OTHER THEN FROGS. GRRR) Ili Pika , deer ( Axis breed ). Adores cute little animals that own the biggest eyes, yet chose these little critters. Looks up pictures of them and cries (extra: slow loris , axolotl) Sam pangolin ( Philippine breed ) , Bush Dog . Found out about Pangolins through Pokemon, fell in love and looked into Pangolins more. Bush dogs are like little bear cubs to him-- yet has been attacked by one before. Does NOT care though finds them so cute

(extra: sugar glider, duck-billed platypus) ----------------------------------------------------------------- YAYYYYYAYAYAYYYY U GOT TO THE END YAYY

[kit-williams]

Hoof Care

Yes I was really thinking of Baldamort's voice for Drar (Watch his video on the Master of Executions and well you can probably figure out where I got Drar's voice from)

Husbandry tag list: @egrets-not-regrets @liar-anubiass-blog @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

thank you @squishyowl for the 40k themed dividers

It was that time of the month again where you'd get a call to go to them they paid you quiet a bit and of course you weren't the only person going... it was always a big big event. You head to the Iron Warrior's base near the city... most Chaos Space Marines' don't have bases but their loyalist counterparts do... though Iron Warriors are an exception not a norm. Though you weren't sure as the Iron Warriors didn't have too much friction with their "traitor" selves? You didn't understand nor really bother too.

The norm would be the fact that there is a Night Lord base being built somewhere given that there were now enough loyalist night lords demanding it. But you made sure your tools were sharp and everything was ready... you knew the only downside of the Iron Warriors was the fact that both loyalist and traitor elements kept pushing and vying for power within their own... faction?

As you backed your truck in and got out you could hear his crooning... he was old had that slightly withered lit to his voice as it croaked out of him as if he had ruined his vocal cords time and time again. "Missy so nice of you to join us." Drar the Warpcutter spoke and if you remembered he said he was the leader of a warband known as the Malefactors of Sin.

"Lord Drar... and hello Helios." You politely said as his Master of Executions followed. The big man behind him looked at you and you swallowed... you didn't get the feel good vibes everyone else got. Your eyes flicked to their weapons... to the skulls up their belt... and you had a feeling Drar enjoyed the fact you were afraid of them. "Where is Vasso..." You ask for the current "chapter master" and you watch Drar wave his hand.

"Busy. The child is going to work himself to death at this rate and I... took the liberty of playing host for him." He says with a grin, "But enough pleasantries... you're the final one to arrive." You flinch as his massive hand pushes against your back and you move into the hanger.

Chaos Space Marines of countless chapters and warbands were here all highly mutated. Heavy hooves clipped and clopped against the floor as centaurs made their way to the designated zone. You headed over to the other ferriers as Drar trilled his goodbye and Helios just gave a nod. You could see where other space marines were watching and learning how to take care of their mutated brothers and cousins as in the far corner you could see iron warriors guarding feral marines that took the offer for maintained care but do not want humans touching them. You could understand as it took you a long time to get over the wrongness of your clients.

At least they behaved better than horses, the massive hooves were clipped and trimmed even polished if they wanted too. The utterly massive Black Legionary stallion... Troc was his name, he would have been such a pretty black horse, brought his own shoes... shiny brass things. He liked his hooves painted a nice solid black.

You could hear Adamatar bellowing as the white minotaur had hurt one of his hooves and so trying to get him to behave enough to put a block on his hoof was feeling like an impossible task. You could spy long tails wagging as fur coats were being brushed... a canine centaur of a Night Lord was half asleep as he was getting his jet black fur coat groomed and nails trimmed on his paws. You trimmed the frog of Troc's hooves just shaping his hoof as he was currently gushing about his bonded... a little girl who had a habit of calling him "pony" or "horsey" when she got overly excited and also calling him "Truck".

The shiny iron horseshoes of a bulky draft of an Iron warrior caught your eye. They certainly liked to feel pretty.... you shiver as a heavily mutated space marine lumbers past... organized chaos of it all and you're getting paid enough that it makes you not have to worry about the slower times of the year.

You could see someone with their body leaning into a massive stomach maw just cleaning the teeth of the marine. You stop looking as you hammer in his shoe and work on cutting the nails and then applying the black hoof polish.... rinse and repeat.

Sure they cooperated more then an actual animal but it was still a lot of hard work. "Hey!" You snapped at someone's apprentice. "Don't just walk behind them!" You said pointing out the fact that they were just walking right behind the centaurs. Which if he was working with actual horses was bad practice.

"They won't kick." They countered back.

"Yeah but they still can't see you and when you work with an actual horse they will kick if you walk right behind you. Give them the same berth as you would an actual horse because if one of these boy's kicks you're going to die." You huff as you resume working on the hooves of the Iron Warrior as someone was working on his horns... it was sometimes easier to do multiple tasks on the same marine as they kept still.

Lunch was provided and it was nice... it felt normal to have that lull in working as you grabbed a coffee as you worked in shifts... went around inspecting other's techniques... watching how some of them were teaching their apprentices, in various fields, or how they were teaching the Astartes on how to take care of their own. Sometimes a feral marine would be brave and try to get taken care of by one of us "mortals" but you never volunteered you had plenty of Astartes asking for you to work on them personally.

But the day blurred on by till you were getting handed a stack of cash of a few thousand dollars with the hope that you would come back same time next month and as well as the cavate that if something changed they would inform you. Again you see Drar as you head back to your trunk and a cup of coffee, that looks so small in his hands, is given to you. "What's this for?"

"Job well done?" He croons.

"Ah yes the usual hush coffee so I don't tattle on Vasso of you playing chapter master huh?" You say ignoring the scowl on his face as you sip the coffee, "or... is it hush coffee to keep me from tattling again to Vasso because you enjoy scaring people?"

"Mouthy little mortal aren't you." He hisses as you cow slightly, far too tired to not be filled with dread as he moves far too smoothly for something so big. He spat to the side, "But something like that."

"And like usual I'm going to be the last one to leave because you like chatting." You say tiredly as you drink the hot brew that made you feel tired. You had enough for a hotel in the city for tonight though... beds were always available here at the fortress. "I have a feeling you're going to chat me up so long I might just have to spend the night."

Drar laughed, it was hardly a pleasant sounding thing... it was dark and ominous... it was downright an evil sounding thing that ended rolling in his chest till it quieted. "You look exhausted."

You just drank the coffee to prevent yourself from making a 'captain obvious' joke, "I might stay tonight or at least get a few hours of shut eye."

"Then let me play the good host once more." He crooned and you just locked your car after placing your tools inside... just a few hours of sleep then you'd make the drive home.

[uva124]

I’d love to see Magnifico singing a lyric of one of these villain songs:

Trust in Me- Kaa

Shiny- Tamatoa

Poor Unfortunate Souls- Ursula

Friends of The Other Side- Dr. Facilier

Just pick any of these and it fits him perfectly, I wanna be surprised with which one you’ll choose :D

Here you go!,I chose the song by Dc.Facillier because: 1-The Princess and the Frog is one of my favorite princess movies 2-MY GOD THE SONG IS GOOD, BOTH IN ENGLISH AND LATIN SPANISH 3-When I thought about a part of the lyrics I said to myself: THIS FITS PERFECTLY WITH CHAPTER 15 So I made a kind of comic??? (I'm not an expert at making comics, really) based on chapter 15 when Magnifico wants to make a deal with Aster

[callahanisms]

Impressions - Part 02

pairing: tashi duncan x bipoc! fem! reader

word count: 2.3k words

context: 2019. los angeles. tashi duncan has found her perfect actor after a vigorous round of auditions. but did the actor stumble upon the audition by chance? or was it premeditated?

no specific pronouns used. reader is able bodied and can speak. reader is about 25, while tashi is 31/32.

based on this post. check out part 01.

sorry for taking so long. grad school is really kicking my butt right now.

She doesn’t seem impressed.

The way she turns the pages of the stapled papers, her nails glimmering in the light. There’s a hint of glitter and they have a cream to pink ombre. They look really nice. And it was clear she had just gotten them done. The clear gloss made her lips look soft and shiny.

Your heart is pounding. You don’t know why. Tashi Duncan asked you for criticism of her work. Were you perhaps not harsh enough? It was hard to tell. The script was just…well, you wanted to keep reading. You had to read it a fourth time to actually start annotating and adding your notes. It was also hard to criticize her vision without any sort of visual. Film was a visual medium after all. It was hard to see what she meant when you were reading.

“Did you hold back?”

You pick up the glass of sangria and take a small sip. “Well…”

Tashi looks at you expectantly. “I thought you’d be harsher.”

“It’s hard to judge entirely. Because part of film critique is…to see the film…”

Her other hand plays with the fork, before stabbing a few leaves and tomatoes of her salad. “So…essentially, you can’t fully critique it without seeing the actual film.”

“A script is only part of it. I just think it’d be nice to have some sort of visual.” Your plate was already clean from your appetizer. It felt odd to be treated to a full course meal by Tashi. But she said you wouldn’t need to pay. Which was generous considering how expensive the restaurant was and being an adjunct didn’t pay as much as you wanted it to. Plus rent was due soon.

“That’s fair. I have a specific vision I want to achieve.” She closes the script and her finger runs over the colored tabs. She liked that the cover page had a key for the colors—by highlighter and by tab. “You seem well aware of that.”

“I’ve watched…most of your stuff. All your films. Majority of the television episodes you’ve directed. And I’ve watched a lot of behind the scenes interviews.” You feel your cheeks heat up. Honestly, you sounded like a bit of a fan.

There’s a smile creeping up on Tashi’s face. “It’s surprisingly rare to find people that have watched your work and…understand your process.” She says. “It takes a certain amount of trust and popularity to be given full control.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve proven yourself already. Your last film was amazing. 5 stars on Letterboxd.” You hold your glass, tipping it towards the director.

Tashi picks up her cocktail and gently taps the glass against your own. “You and the other hundreds of thousands of people.”

“Where are we?”

Tashi puts the car in park and turns off the ignition with the touch of a button. There’s a click and the rapid retraction of her seatbelt. “My house.” The sound of the door opening is crisp. Or maybe it’s because the sangria made things sound sharper than they should.

It was actually smaller than you thought. But certainly a lot of space for a person living alone. “How many bedrooms?” You unbuckle your seat and climb out of the car. The air feels refreshing against the hot skin of your face. You could feel the vessels throbbing beneath from the body’s processing of the ingested alcohol. You make sure to close the door all the way and follow after her.

Her keys have a keychain attached to it: a Sonny Angel with a frog hat. And he’s wearing a green shirt and some jeans. “Three beds, one full bath, one half bath.” She says. “It’s expensive, but I can afford it. And one of the bedrooms is…well, you’ll see.” When she looks back at you, it’s teasing. The corner of her mouth is curled into one of her charming smirks. The kind that also became a popular meme to use online. “The other is a guest bedroom. Because you never know when someone’s going to stay the night.”

“So…does that mean your parents drop in often?”

“Yes.” The door clicks and she pushes the door open. “Hi~” Her voice is suddenly a pitch higher.

When you step into the house and close the door behind you, you see why. A gray tabby cat nuzzles up against Tashi’s leg, mewling. It suddenly jumps, trying to climb up her pants. You remove your shoes, setting them to the side so they aren't in the way of the door. And you make sure to lock the front door. “Who’s this?” You ask.

“I named her K.C.” Tashi gently pries the cat off of her pants and holds her.

“After your character on that spy sitcom?”

“Yes. Precisely.” Her nails scratch K.C.’s chin and there’s a purr in response. “She’s a little troublemaker. But she followed me home one day after I went out to eat. No one came to claim her, so now she’s my cat.”

You take a few steps closer to her and put your finger out. K.C. sniffs the offered finger and nuzzles her nose against it. “How old is she?”

“Around six months. She followed me home when she was only eight weeks old.” Tashi bends down to set the cat down. You follow the director into the kitchen, taking in the decorations after your eyes adjust to the sudden turning on of the soft lights. You’re not surprised to find plenty of movie posters on the wall, including one of Amélie and Tampopo. Which was smart. Putting the movie about food in the kitchen certainly made the hunger return.

Tashi quickly fills her bowl with some kibble, wet food, and a little bit of bone broth. She sets it down and K.C. immediately begins to eat. “Kittens. They always eat like they were never fed.” You joke.

“There was a time she literally ate my toast.” Tashi slowly plucks the rings off her fingers and washes her hands. They move so delicately. Covered in a thick layer of suds. Her scrubbing beneath her fingernails. The water washes away the soap and she turns off the faucet, drying her hands. The towel gets between her fingers. Her fingers. Her long fingers. She slides the rings back on. “She jumped up and just took my toast out of my fingers. And it had grape jelly on it—”

“Wait. You eat grape jelly?” You knew no one that actually liked grape jelly. Aside from your grandfather and younger brother.

Tashi rolls her eyes. “I prefer raspberry. But a friend got me an artisanal grape jelly when he visited the farmer’s market. Said it’d be good to try it. And it was good. I just prefer raspberry. The tartness balances better with the sugar.” She begins walking and when she looks back at you, you know what she’s saying.

Follow me.

Your feet carry you and you can faintly smell the lingering notes of her perfume. Tashi turns the hallway light on and then opens a door off to the side. She flicks the light switch on and the room is filled with a warm light. You stand in the door while she goes over to the desk and leans against it, arms crossed over her chest.

You’re taken in by the boxes in the corner, stacked. There’s an easel by the window. Multiple sheets of paper were taped onto the wall. There’s a board with more sheets of paper pinned to it. It definitely feels like an artist’s studio, a stark contrast to the reality of Tashi Duncan as a filmmaker.

“So you’re artsy?” You ask.

“You could say that.” She cocks her head to the side. “You can come in, you know.”

“Yeah…I’m afraid I might set this place on fire.” A nervous chuckle escapes you. It’s utterly gorgeous. And some of the pieces on the wall take your breath away. Gorgeous. Vibrant. Full of color and with gorgeous shading. There’s some photographs tapped around the room too. Mostly landscapes and settings. One collection is just a room at different angles.

“You won’t. Just come take a look. These are my storyboards.”

“...Huh!”

Your jaw practically dropped.

These were Tashi Duncan’s storyboards?

This was on a similar level to Ridley Scott. That was kind of mindblowing. “Y-Your storyboards?”

“I just have a really tedious process.” Tashi uncrosses her arms and rests them between her thighs. “It’s a little…frustrating. But it really helps get the images out of my head and onto something tangible. And if it doesn’t look like what I actually want it to, then I am still satisfied anyways because my vision was fulfilled.”

Your step is gentle and you walk over to the board first. This was clearly the storyboard with guidelines and vague shapes to indicate lighting and shadows. It was clear to see that Tashi’s strong suit was perspective. Your eyes slowly move to the big paper taped to the wall. A woman looking up. The light is shining down while the background is bathed in a dark blue light. Blood covers her mouth and drips down her chin and neck. The neckline of her dress is red, soaked from blood. And…

“She kind of looks like me.”

Tashi purses her lips. “Yeah.” She lets out a small laugh. “It just came to me in a dream.”

You look back at her, smiling. “It’s funny how dreams work, huh? The kind of people our subconscious recognizes and puts together. Which reminds me. I think you should maybe lean more into psychoanalysis for your movie. I know the idea of id, ego, and superego is overdone and may be boring…but I think there would be something interesting in presenting your three primary characters in that way. It never gets old. And honestly, psychoanalytical readings are never not trendy.”

“That’s actually an amazing suggestion.” Tashi licks her lips. You fail to notice her eyes trailing down your back.

“I’m happy you think so. I think a lot of film scholars would just go crazy over it.” You look at her. “Also, where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall to your right. It has a peacock on the door.”

“Got it. I’ll be back. I just had a lot of sangria.”

Tashi watches you leave. And she turns back to her desk, collecting the photos together and putting them in a neat pile. Pictures of you. Some of them were stills. Some your headshots. Others from your Instagram account. She opens the drawer and lifts up a manila folder and sketchbook, shoving the photos beneath. The drawer slams shut and she opens another drawer off the side, pulling out some more books.

She hears the sound of the toilet flushing and then the running water of the sink. You come back within three minutes, hands dried and rubbing lotion into your skin. “Where’d you get the lotion in the bathroom?”

“Costco.”

“Damn. That’s hot.”

You realize what you just said.

“I-I mean…it’s hot that you have a Costco membership!”

Tashi can’t help but laugh. “I would say the same to someone. Do you want something to drink? Some tea? Or maybe some water?”

“I think water would be good.”

“Be right back.” When Tashi leaves the room, her clothes brush against you. You feel the goosebumps forming over your arm. And there’s her perfume. It was addictive.

You decide to walk around the room, taking in the storyboards more. You don’t dare touch the boxes, despite the urge to look. There’s something else that satiates your curiosity: the books on the desk. You pick one up and carefully open it to a random page. It’s some sketches. You recognize one of the sketches as actor and producer Art Donaldson. You forgot that he was in Tashi’s second film, on top of producing it.

“Like them?”

You nearly jump, slamming the book closed. Tashi walks over and sets a mug of water on the desk. She hands you the other one and you take it. There are flowers on it. “Sorry. I was just looking—”

“It’s fine. You’re already in here. You might as well look.” Tashi shrugs.

“You’re like…amazing!”

“It took a lot of practice.” Tashi grabs the more run down book and flips it open. You purse your lips to stifle a laugh. “It’s okay, you know. We all start somewhere. Besides, Rian Johnson’s storyboards look the same. And this was my first time directing.”

Tashi Duncan’s directorial debut. Inside Audrey Horne.

“You’re right. I mean if it gets the job done…what’s the point in arguing?” You take a sip of the cold water. “So you practiced and now…you just do full on art pieces?”

“I like experimenting with color.” She shrugs. “And naturally if I am taking inspiration from Dario Argento and technicolor, then it’s best to figure out what colors mesh well.”

“So what do you use?”

“Pastels. I like my drawings to look smooth.”

“You do have a way with color.” Your eyes keep going back to the big drawing on the wall, of your lookalike staring up at something in both awe and horror. “I’m guessing that’s the scene of when I cannibalize my former castmate?”

“It is. I have a specific idea of what that shot would look like.” Tashi takes a sip, her brown eyes watching your body language. You’re at ease. You’re relaxed. You’re in the mood for chatter and to hear more, like the film nerd that you were. “So…do you have anything else you want to add?”

“I mean…your script is solid. And seeing what you intend to make just…it’s awesome to see what your vision is.”

Even though Tashi said she didn’t want a yes man, she still liked getting praise. It was necessary to know what she was doing right and how to keep it right. But hearing it from you was different. It was more special. So she decides to prompt you.

“Tell me what’s on your mind.”

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Hello!! I just recently found your blog and I have to say I'm in LOVE- I'm a sucker for platonic yanderes and have serious X-Men brainrot, I've had the idea stuck in my head and I wanted to share!

So platonic yan Brotherhood & X-Men with Hummingbird mutant tot reader?? Flying at max speed when not held and eats exclusively fruit, constantly giggling and being mischievous- Maybe they meet the brotherhood first?? Decide toad is their favorite cause he's also got an animal mutation(& cause I love him) then meets the X-Men and thinks there funny more than anything else

Loves harmless pranks and can be bribed with sugar cubes, but is an absolute nightmare if upset, hummingbirds can fly up to 60 miles when going up and dive anywhere from 20-45 mph, imagine the damage lil reader could do flying circles around everyone!

(sending this twice cause this washing machine setting of a website likes to eat my asks)

So cute!

The Brotherhood would love toddler hummingbird mutant Reader! That's their little buzzer, okay? No one messes with then and gets away with it!

Lance is sneaking them with him to places. If they're at the park, he'll race them. If they're getting food, he tries to get them fruit juice and apple slices. If they go to a museum, he'll show then any birds they want to see in the exhibits. He doesn't mind letting them tug him along, just as long as they stay within his sight.

Toad is sneaking Reader snacks all the time. They want juice? Okay, they have apple, grape, cranberry, orange, pineapple, what's their pick? They're tired? Never fear, Todd will happily carry them around! They want to play in the rain? Haha, yes! Those two get along pretty well, especially since they're both animal mutants. Reader gets him a little frog charm, and he loves it.

Fred let's Reader and Toad perch on his shoulders when they want to see better or are tired. He cooks pie, and saves the best berry ones for Reader. Reader plays with his mother sometimes, and he in turn pets their wings. He's a gentle giant with them, and is extremely careful. He reminds the others to be careful, too.

Pietro is getting Reader to race him all the time. To the park? Beat you there! To the zoo? See you in awhile crocodile! To the X-Men to prank them? Why, just say the word, little bird, and they're there! He enables their prankster side, even going with them to keep them from getting caught. He does however try to get a child leash for them, since Reader keeps flying off to look at flowers.

Wanda let's Reader follow her around. Reader offers her some flowers they picked, and now they have her as their guardian angel. Someone once picked on Reader for their wings, and suddenly they ran off screaming- Then Wanda showed up, and took Reader to get a slushie. If Reader wants to have little cute stuffed animals, they gonwith Wanda into places that have them, but also have Gothic or punkrock stuff, too. Wanda gets Reader a little cat plush, and Reader picks out a moth plush for Wanda.

Mystique keeps an eye on Reader, and tries to adopt them. Is it thwarted? Maybe? Or maybe it works. She follows Reader and the others in different forms, even comes by as a hummingbird herself, to cheer Reader up up they're feeling down. Suddenly there's a lot of fruit and juice and sugar around the house, and while the others are suspicious, Reader is just happy to have so many sweet treats at their disposal!

Reader likely finds the X-Men funny. These are their enemies? Well, they're just freebies! Friends who are enemies! And Reader leaves flowers I weird places, ties shoelaces together, and dyes the fountain and pool water bright pink. They don't really get too out of hand with their jokes, but they will leave juice boxes as an apology sometimes. And the X-Men allow it, because Reader is sweet and cute, and haven't tried to fight them, so they're good.

Reader would have pretty, shiny feathers. Jewel tones, bright areas, soft feathers, everything beautiful about a hummingbird, they have! Their wings are fast, letting them fly backwards and up and down and all around. Reader even has small claws, but they don't do much besides help them grip branches or flowers a bit better.

[canarydarity]

(mooooooooooore DL rancher angst. because what else am I good for </3 /j)

No matter how you looked at it, the knock was startlingly out of place; it was late, late enough that a truce-like state should have fallen over the players, late enough that no one would want to risk running into more mobs than they could handle; it was peaceful, they hadn’t accrued more than a single pair of red names so far, and he didn’t think they’d given Ren and Bigb a reason to come after them—at least, not more than anyone else had; it was also them, all season people had been coming and going from the ranch as they pleased, not an ounce of courtesy in sight. If someone really wanted to come in, they woulda just done it. 

So, all in all…a knock?

Tango was already up and halfway across the room by the time his brain had synthesized these as the reasons why. 

Behind him, Jimmy called a wobbly and worried “Tangooo?” 

“Just,” Tango threw a hand backward towards the bed in hopes of staving off Jimmy’s shadow until he figured out what was going on. “Stay there, for a second.” 

Like some cut-off had been reached, the second he was close enough to wrap his hand around the handle all haste had vanished—the feeling of urgency holding a negative association with his proximity to the door. He’d had the nerve to get up, to get himself there, but getting his hand to turn and push was an entirely different thing. 

The door not yet having been opened, the possibility of what was waiting for him on the other side yawned and stretched towards endless. In a way, not knowing but speculating was worse than just opening the damn thing and facing the one singular scenario that was, but that was why he struggled to do it. Schrodinger’s danger—this was stupid; Tango opened the door. 

No one was there. 

He blinked in the face of its emptiness for a moment. Of all the situations he had considered, absolutely zero of them included opening the door to nothing. The one definite thing a knock spoke to was the presence of someone—something. So, what, they risked the middle of the night in peace times to come to the ranch they all loved barging into anyway to ding-dong ditch? That seemed, like, a gazillion times more unlikely.  

Tango moved to shut the door, trying to shake off the adrenaline, the too-familiar feeling of someone else being a step ahead of him and bemused by it. He ducked to turn back to Jimmy, play the brave one, laugh it off in hopes Jimmy would follow, and then, he saw: just a glint in the corner of his eye, something small and shiny on the doorstep. 

A golden apple. 

Tango stared at it the way you’d stare at a car crash you hadn’t the chance to get out of the way of in time, the look a doctor had in their eye when they announced your prognosis was bad, abysmal, terminal. It was the brightest thing for yards—a glowing, unignorable fixed point; the kind of bright that in tree frogs usually indicated poisonous, the kind of glowy cartoonists made chemicals when they wanted you to know falling in would reduce you to bones. And it just sat there. 

“Tango,” behind him, the bed creaked. “What is it?” 

Urgency returned, and, with renewed purpose, Tango moved once more. Fear flooded his senses again—it hadn’t really gotten very far to begin with—but this time it was of a different breed, born from someplace else. He tried to both square himself in the doorway, block the view out, and regain nonchalance, affecting some sort of behavior that would convince Jimmy to just leave things be. “Nothing, don—”

But Jimmy was already behind him, and Tango wasn’t tall enough to obstruct his line of sight. 

“Oh.”

And it sort of felt like Tango had failed. Failed what he didn’t know but by the stone in his stomach he knew that he had. He tracked the feeling all the way down his throat and through his middle, getting hooked and snagging on his organs as it went, pulling them with it until he was completely out of alignment, rearranged all wrong; the moment where you opened a test booklet and realized you didn’t know a single answer. 

He shook his head, an aborted no becoming no more than a breath that passed his lips at just the right angle to whistle or whine. He bent down and picked up the apple, and, no sooner than he stood again, lobbed it down the hill towards the ravine in some effort to rectify even a modicum of his uselessness. The apple thunked hard into the dewy late-night grass, probably rolled somewhere out of the way; he didn’t know, he couldn't see it anymore—he’d have to grab it and dispose of it at some point, but he could do that in the morning. He had other things to attend to. 

Tango shut the door and turned to assess the damage. 

Jimmy’s arms were goosebumped where they were exposed—just his white undershirt left on to sleep in—and his head was tilted down, the top of it visible to Tango more than anything else, his hair not mused enough yet to be called bedhead though it was certainly a start. Tango took a step towards him, crowded him just a little, placed one of his hands on Jimmy’s waist, skin warmth bleeding through the thin cotton, and the other on the junction where his shoulder met his neck. Jimmy stayed looking down. 

Tango couldn’t think of a single fucking thing to say. 

After a few seconds, Jimmy sniffled, pulled up one of his hands and ran it across his nose, mushed it into his cheek. 

“Hey,” he ventured softly, in the absence of any other thought. Jimmy only glanced up slightly. “Let's…go back to bed, yeah?”

If it hadn’t already been clear that all chances of sleep had been banished by the panic of a late-night knock, it was by the way they both responded to that statement by sitting on the side of the bed rather than lying back down. A haze had fallen over the room, a trance-like state prompting them to move in the way they thought they should, in the way it seemed they were being directed; their actions pre-determined, someone else's hand on the joystick. Robotically, they maneuvered onto the bed side-by-side, silence still reigning, eye contact (from one party) still vehemently denied.  

And it just…wasn’t fair. The way there was no period of wondering between the discovery and the understanding, the way Tango didn’t see the apple and question why it was there, but rather knew, innately, what was being poked, prodded at. He hadn’t stopped to doubt, he hadn’t been confused, and maybe that’s what was the most upsetting—not the presence of the apple alone, but the way the person who left it was confident its message would be interpreted without fail. The way Tango was complicit by letting it.

It was the fact that he hadn’t opened the door to a trap or an ambush, but to a taunt; the apple not left behind as some sort of distraction, someone waiting to break in the back while they looked out the front, but as something else entirely, something completely unrelated to the game and its progression. There were no hidden motives, no ulterior plans—only the sadistic amusement that came with throwing a rock into a pond just to see the fish scatter. It didn’t put whoever did it ahead, it didn’t force them to fall any more behind. It just was, and it was cruel. 

Jimmy was still silently staring at the opposing wall, the both of them not even bothering to pretend they weren’t dwelling, and the more Tango sat in the discomfort that had fallen over the ranch, the more he thought, the angrier he got. He couldn’t just be here anymore and not do a single fucking thing about it. He leaned nearly entirely off the bed in his reach for his shoes, shoved his feet into them without precision or care about their security, and was up, diverting on his way towards the door to scrunch the fabric of his vest and pull it off the back of the chair it rested on, before turning on his heel and then he was off—

He was stopped with a hand gripping his forearm in its passing by, came to with Jimmy shouting “Tango!” for what he knew likely wasn’t the first time. 

Tango looked. Jimmy hadn’t gotten off the bed, but he’d leaned forward to latch onto Tango and stop his campaign, his eyebrows raised in misery, his lips downturned in upset. He wasn’t looking away, just around; his eyes landing on the wall behind where Tango was standing, on the door that had remained quiet since they’d shut it again, on Tango’s chest, or his hand around Tango’s arm. It was the closest Tango had gotten to eye contact in minutes. 

“What are you gonna walk around in the dark ‘til you find who put that there?”

Yes, if he had to—if that’s what it took. But before he could even begin to open his mouth, Jimmy pled, “Tango…” like he hadn’t really been asking, like he’d been hoping saying it would confirm Tango knew that idea was nonsense, not that Tango had been meaning to try regardless. It begged for common sense, it betrayed its wish to concede. 

Tango let out all the air he’d reserved for his returning argument as a heavy breath, almost a sigh, a huff. Its frustration was clear. He knew he wasn’t going to find them, he knew there was no conclusion to be had, he knew the joke had already hit and the moment had already ended. He knew that. But he also knew that complacency wasn’t the answer, and that Jimmy deserved to be fought for. 

He could’ve gone out anyway, walked around until the sun started coming up and all the mobs turned to ash—hell, he could’ve knocked on goddamn doors, inspired the same kind of fear in everyone else that a late night interruption in a game like this did them, and then demanded answers, no more Mr. nice guy. At least that way, he wouldn’t have had to lay back down, to have the conversation he hadn’t stopped thinking about since. 

But Jimmy said, “Can we just go back to bed? Please?” And knew it was a request that couldn’t be denied, knew the power in this interaction that being the victim afforded him, and knew how to play his cards to get Tango to fold. 

Tango took his shoes off, again, kicked them out of the way of the bed, gestured behind Jimmy with the hand that wasn’t being detained. Jimmy scooted backward on the bed, Tango’s forearm still in hand like the moment he let go Tango would dash immediately out the door, or dematerialize entirely, maybe; or even…run down the hill in search of something shimmering gold, and find himself unable to resist just one sweet bite. Tango followed him, nudged his shoulder until he complied and laid back down, allowing Tango to pull him closer as he did too. 

Jimmy still didn’t look at him. They were nearly eye to eye, only one pillow to share between them both, face to face in the dark; their foreheads leaning against one another, shifting away only to find each other again after any and all movement. 

Tango watched the sentence form on Jimmy's lips, watched his face rearrange throughout the composing of the question, the stringing of the words in a line, packaging them to be delivered. He swallowed as he awaited its transmission. 

“If it weren’t against the rules, would you…?”

And Tango said, “It is against the rules,” before that could get any further. The wrong answer. He knew immediately after he said it that it was, and he’d kick himself for it if he could any feasibly at all without getting Jimmy in the crossfire. He knew better than to give a non-answer, but he hadn’t been responding to the actual question, his first thought only stop—a futile hope he could head off Jimmy’s negative feedback loop by undermining it at its core. Another failure on his part. 

Jimmy closed his eyes, shook his head, “But if it weren’t—”

“No.” 

Tango placed one of his hands on Jimmy’s cheek, tilted his head back up towards his, but Jimmy’s eyes remained trained down. “No,” he repeated—he insisted. He didn’t need the eye contact to know Jimmy didn’t believe him. 

He leaned up and kissed Jimmy on the forehead, slid his hand from his cheek to the back of his neck and held him closer, but neither of them fell asleep for a while.

[ofnightshadeandthornyroses]

Don't Hide Pt 2

Paul x reader

"Look I just really don't know what to do with that, and what he said made it sound like he's a local or at least frequents the place." You sip your drink before flopping down on the bed, still clutching the phone and listening to you sister and her endless knowledge of the dating scene. "With what you said it sounds like he was interested in you. All those girls but still he stopped at you." A pause. "I mean he did say he hadn't seen you around so there's always that 'new shiny toy' factor, but!!" Your mind was racing. New shiny toy? I hadn't even thought about that! I was just to panicked that I actually flirted with someone somewhat successfully and they initiated it! "You could've caught his attention, you said he was pretty cute right?" Sounds of chips crunching on the other end interrupted your response of 'yeah' "So if you see him again, and if you want to, try and flirt with him again. See if he's interested. Anything else happen that wasn't on the carousel?" More crunching. Your finger was now curling and uncurling in the cord as you remember something at the end. "I guess? Maybe? After I left I looked back and he was with his friends but he was already looking at me but I might have done something before that, it's a little embarrassing..." "Go on!" The pleading demand coming out muffled through a mouth that was undoubtedly full of chips. "Before I told him not to hide, I kinda took his lollipop out of his mouth and after I sorta put it in mine in front of him?" The end of your retelling came out sounding more like a question and you could the sound of your sister inhaling and promptly choking on her chips. You didn't mean to kill her really. You grimace, "Sorry-" "Sorry? Why didn't you tell me this! Oh, you bold fucker! You definitely had to have hooked him a bit! If he doesn't come up to you he's fucking numb or shy from what you did. Please God or whomever the fuck let my sibling finally get someone or some action at least." "Oh my frog-" "No child you listen–" "I'm older tha-" "-you need to try to make a small a miniscule effort to talk to this guy. I'm talking at least eye contact, a smile, a wave, head tilt, whatever! Just something. Even a sign to him. You do this and it's a mile stone. You do this and you could do it again and build up to something more. Remember it's the anticipation of what hasn't happened that's scary." "So I do this and I can do anything? That's mighty cheesy" "I didn't say that. But you could build up to more. It certainly gets a little easier once you've done it. It was hard for me at first as well, but I had the advantage of semi-popularity and friends that would cheer me on and and we could laugh about it later. I know it's a little harder for you but remember you got yourself a personal cheerleader a phone call away." Laying on your side playing with the cord, a fond smile grew on your face. "Thanks sis, I really appreciate this. I probably would've been spiraling out of my head without you by now." "That's what I'm here for! I've got to go, but hey! You get ready and go out! FIND THAT MAN! Give a little smile and a wave, maybe a wink~." "Ughaagh!" "I love you, bye!" "Bye, love you." You put the phone back up and laid there for minute just looking at the wall not really seeing it, not even thinking. Then, your brain decided to start working on double time. If I do this would it actually go well? Would it go bad? He stayed looking yesterday. What does that even mean? Did you make a big mistake even looking at him? Did you do the stupidest thing in history by taking his candy? AND PUTTING IT IN YOUR MOUTH!? OH YOU DUMB FROGGER, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE! Maybe you should try? Maybe not, "no" or go "away" is NOT the worst he could say. Okay could it be that bad? He probably forgot about you, okay?

But the prospect of maybe having a someone made your heart feel like a ton of moths decided that it was their new home. You had always seen those couples on campus, one leaning on cars or walls wile the other leaned over them, making the other flustered or both laughing. Just thinking about maybe having a chance at that, having someone to fluster you or the other way around. Holding someone's hands because you could, holding them because you could, holding their face because–well.

This gave you a sense of anxious determination. With a hint of spite. You could never have something like that before, even when you tried. People were cruel, they hurt you, bones and shiny things couldn't hurt you. Maybe you would go, and maybe you would, if you saw him, smile and wave. This wasn't the campus or highschool, hell it's definitely not home. If you need to ignore him, you could. Why not? —•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•— So, you're here, and have been for about an hour before the sun finally started going down. This wouldn't be an issue at all except you've had an eye out for that pretty hurricane of blonde hair from the night before, and the anticipation of seeing them again slowly frying your nerves.

You stroll along some small stores, the chains on your boots and hip clinking as you walk. Eyes catching a shop advertising they sell 'Assortments for the damned', immediately interested you walk closer and open the glass door covered with a thick curtain.

Immediately you can see small weapons, jewelry, and crystals on a display case. Walking around there's discovered to be books on witchcraft, Satanism, the supernatural, apothecary, rituals, and beginners manuals. In the back left corner there's a display of sex toys and lingerie which is out numbered by the amount of fetish wear and toys for those obviously into more hard-core stuff that's right by it. There a section of actually weapons; swords, axes, hatchets, maces, flails, etc. Many intricately made or decorated with stones. Along side it was gardening supplies along with gas masks. Sections of fabric took up half a wall along with dried plants, pastes, and animal parts.

It felt like a play ground honestly. Maybe you would need to work on more crafts to sell, because you just might end up broke before you have to go back. But was it really your fault? You hadn't seen most of this stuff anywhere else and it was like putting live prey with a starving animal and asking it to wait a while more– cruel, tempting, and plain fucking stupid.

By the time you made it up to the front desk someone came stumbling out from behind a beaded curtain behind it. "Oh- Hi! Sorry it took a bit. Looking for anything in particular? Find anything you like?" Their short curly hair looked as if it's been through a storm and silver bangles clink on their hands. You find a name tag on their long apron which reads 'Andy–they/them'.

"I practically love everything here, I just might go broke if I can't find clients." They chuckle and push their glasses up their nose looking thoughtful. "Well it's great to hear you're enjoying the shop and as well as the clientele part, depending on what you sell we might be able to help with that. My boss tends to house and sell many locals wears for them here, only taking a small amount, on agreement of course, for the pay of the worker who helped sell it. I can give you a card if you'd like?"

You were struck dumb for a second almost refusing to believe your luck. This store, this store, could possibly house your crafts and you might actually be able to one–extend your stay and continue to hide from your parents and two–by something shiny when you wanted. You were baffled not stupid, also you were quiet and they were still looking at you. "Um, yes, oh frog. I definitely would like one, thank you!" Were you getting to loud, maybe a tad, but they giggled and put their finger up as they crouched down behind the counter.

"Give me just a moment. We don't keep my boss's cards up top for the taking so they tend to get pushed around." You left them to it and looked around the front counter, smaller concelable weapons made to look like other objects and just straight up decorated to look as pretty as they are painful make up a good amount of the displays. Andy popped back up holding a card like it was a prize ribbon as you were checking out what looked to be modified brass nuckles with jagged ends in shapes of animals, one even a Christmas tree.

"Here's her card, it has her number and mailing address, but please do call to set something up first. Oh, do you like those? We just got a new shipment in this morning! If you give me just a minute I can go get them right now!" They scurried through the curtain and back in less than a minute and set a medium box on the counter. After taking out a box cutter, they opened it and started taking out thin foam layers separating the metal peices and laying them out.

"Now these ones are our self defense keychains, they have holes for you to slip your fingers in similar to regular brass knuckles but with a nice sharp, cute twist." You scanned over the items feeling like a little kid all over again. Honestly, you didn't know what to do when she disappeared behind the curtain in search of the shipment, so in a mixed state of confusion and curious, you stated put. Oh are you glad you did. There were so many, moths, presents, birds, cats, hats. One that really caught your eye was the teeth. That not even the right word, right one would be fangs. The finger holes were in the gums and part of the other teeth in between the the sharpened teeth. There were blood marks on them as well, leading to believe what ever they're supposed to belong to fed on something with fresh blood. You had to have it. "Oh now this is extremely beautiful!" You said holding it up. "It is, and it definitely fits your little bat necklace. It's cute." The bat necklace in reference was the one from the night before. "We have other hidden weapons here too if you like to see." A very quick nod. "We have these necklaces over here that look like little hearts with daggers in them, which," Andy takes hold of one and pulls the blade out."They are. Then for wrists we have bands with daggers in intricate sheaths. They could look like decorations until you actual pull them out." Shiny, sharp, and pretty!  Your mind was probably breaking a sound barrier somewhere with how high pitched that came out in your own In the end you walked out with the fang keychain, a pair of arm bands, AND the necklace. Gosh you're asucker for shiny and sharp. You can't even blame Andy for your lack of self control, they were a great help and, really, were just doing their job. You fidget with the card in your hand a bit before finaly putting it in your bag. Passing by a food stand you see a container of bright candy in clear wrapping, lollipops, your brains supplies oh not so very helpfully. Did you decide you were gonna try? Yes, yes you did. Does that mean you're actually going to try and think about him the whole time when he already keeps constantly popping up and you have to constantly keep replaying the stunt you pulled. No, no you're not. And does this mean that because he keeps popping up in your head and making you feel more anxious and stupid by the second that in the end you might end up making a fool, tucking tail, and hauling ass? Uhhh- You were staring. The attendant was speaking. You hadn't even revised you had stopped. "I-I'm sorry, can you repeat that?" "I said," she looks exasperated already "Are you wanting one?" She had a pulled smile, the one you give customers when you want to add something else but you shouldn't. Just by her tone and expression you felt like you could hear the unsaid, "Or are you just going to block up the counter?" Feeling a bit embarrassed now you went went to say"No, sorry" but what came out was "Um, sorry, yes m-ma'am, cherry please. Thank you." This happened most times you were caught off guard, starring at something on a stand or store because you're either just in you're own mind or a memory. The embarrassment catches and usually ends with you buying whatever it was or doing a weird scurry of shame away.

Cherry wasn't even your favorite. Usually not even your top three choices, but you knew why you picked it. After your feet finally started moving again your brain, what was left of the flaming hot mush it had become, registered the flavor of the candy as cherry. It made sense really. You remember going over the memories before having the time to be properly mortified and remembering the way the sticky red residue you could see on his lips when you looked, shiny, pretty.

His teeth had a red sheen to it from the candy, even a little dribble of red dyed saliva could be seen at the corner of his mouth. Pretty. Shiny. He looked good with red. Reminds you of a glam rocker too. Oh frog.

You open the candy, plop it in then lean against a wall a couple feet into an alley to hopefully have a mental freak out in peace and not look like a total freak in public from going so far into your head. Glam rockers are shiny, and he's hot, and this is not helping. Seriously the intrusive thought of him in shiny red eyeshadow, hair all blown out, in shiny outfits with cut out and/or mesh, had you on your knees.

Like, actually, in the alley crouched down, head in your crossed arms, unable to stop the thoughts of a man who already had dressed like a hot punk, like a hot glam rocker, and now the thoughts are transforming saying 'hey you know, he'd look fucking hot if he was in a metal band'. The thought has you sinking lower on the ground, butt now firmly planted with your knees up so you can still successfully fold your arms on told and mock bury yourself a thoughts of glitter and tight outfits are joined by tight shiny leather, belts, spikes, and chains. The blown out hair stayed.

You stayed there for a while, tasting cherry and thinking, not relising that the very last light of sunset had finally passed, tuning out the foot traffic of the boardwalk, ignoring the way your butt and become numb and how your body tugged.

You tuned out this as well as the melodic sound of chains, boots, and rubbing leather. You didn't hear someone come into the alley or when they first said 'hey, sugar'.

Your brain only slightly registered the sound of chains hitting the ground. It completely registered the touch to your knee that your fairy skirt had had left bare, shocking your head up and into the chin of the unknown man who stumbled back from his crouch and landed on his rear.

You both groan, as you hold the top of your head and him his chin. "Damn sugar, didn't mean to scare you like that."

You look up finally noticing that this man isn't unknown at all, it's the man from before. Blown out blonde hair and blue eyes that were subjects of fantasies just moments before were in front of you, looking at you. You look down, not now, why now? "I'm sorry I didn't mean to hit you, didn't scare just, startled."

Trying to look everywhere but his face wasn't working. Today he was in his jacket from before and a band shirt, cut off and cut up, the jagged 'M' and 'A' being the only tell it used to say Matellica. The mesh shirt underneath it was pull tight by his position he was still in, legs spread and bent in criminally tight ripped jeans with chains and a fucking bondage belt.

Seriously why me, why you, why now!?  He's holding himself up with one hand behind him and the other rubbing at his chin though seeming distracted –and what is that look? Oh frog I've been staring-ogling! He saw that! Saw me! Of course he saw you you're faces are maybe three feet away maximum. But does that mean he was looking at me? Well you just hit his chin dingus. But why is he here? Um, He lives here? Maybe? I don't know? But why is he here, with me.

"Hey sweetness, you alive?"  You were staring, still. And he had that lazy smug grin on his face. Oh FROG. "Yeah, I'm alive." You say with absolute genius. Though in your defense you were also using about 90% of your brain power to be alive.

Flirting, interaction, crushes in general were never your strong suit. You always get flustered so easily, by the moment or your own thoughts. And being flustered leads to being embarrassed which leads to you fleeing or just silently standing there, awkwardly.

"Well that's great news sweetheart, hadn't been able to tell until you spoke up, those cute eyes of your staring my way. Would've thought you were a statue." He grins that grin and starts pushing himself more up.

What he says hits uou "sweetheart" "cute" "staring". You were staring. Oh f r o g. That feeling hits again, the one of embarrassment, your cheeks burning. "Im sorry, very sorry for your chin and staring." You start to turn the corner. Fleeing. You were fleeing.

Or was until you felt a hand tugged in your sleeve. You turn back and the he is with big blue eyes pand a slight confused look"No need to be sorry babe, where you going?" You look up at him "Away?" Not quite sure what's happening yourself. He pulls your sleeve, as well as you closer. "Well why that? Why don't we walk around see where to night takes us?" You didn't want to, not because of him, but you. Being by him made you anxious, his pretty face made you fidget nervously.

What if I mess it up, and he thinks I'm weird or disgusting? What if something goes wrong, there's so many people here? What if it goes great? Where do I go from there? Your sister voice filter through you brain. You won't know unless you try, something she's always saying, take a chance make a risk. If you never want to see him again you won't have to, live a little.

You get yourself together and look up at his waiting expression, "Yeah, I'd like too"

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