#i wanna learn how to collect seeds from more plants | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fiascox0xo · 1 day

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We were not supposed to do anything for the eclipse. I made alters for my feminine energy protection deities. I adorned the outside pentacle with sun flowers that were seed and other pretty flowers and plants creatures could eat<3 I keep the outside one free from inorganic litter & the one in my room cat safe.

I’m working on cleaning my issue with waste/litter sometimes it gets hard because idk how to dispose of things properly- I hate thinking of the landfills not being properly maintained. Humans are so wasteful. And I save things for art or make art from litter I pick up <3 I try to make a difference even just locally.like picking up trash while walking to the store or the dogs. Whatever you pick up, I try to get plastic & styrofoam out of the water/habitats of animals. Anything dangerous- please take precaution or contact professionals/local enforcement agencies or nature conservation groups. I do pick up glass or mowed over aluminum cans & even paraphernalia from drugs (I’m a recovering addict & know the dangers/risks(like hep c , hiv/aids , tetanus - overdosing ) & safest ways to pick up biohazard ☣️ products. Please use a bleach/laundry jug with this plastic if you can’t get a sharps container from your pharmacy/local syringe 💉 exchange. <3 I think of all the innocent animals, kids, humans…. Wearing flip flops or walking around in a confused state like dementia/drunk/diabetic issue/ mental health episode who could hurt themselves…. On any of the stuff- EVEN STRING OR WIRES. Fencing. Things you don’t think about….

I know I look nuts sometimes picking it up- or collecting seeds & nuts to feed the birds & squirrels & plant next year (especially native plants that are keystone /cornerstone species for many creatures (meaning more than a couple species of 🐝🦋) so it helps the delicate eco system- the web 🕷️ 🕸️ that we as humans are Part of - not the spider who made it…. So we’re here to help but are a part of it…. I know that made it more confusing but we aren’t “top of the food chain” and not meant to help keep the balance 💟☮️☯️⚛️❤️💛🖤🤍 we are supposed to listen to the people who lived on the land we stand on now (whatever area code you live in- see which Indigenous Communities lived there - because they lived off this land before & know nature is Meant & able to be lived WITH - not destroying her & depleting the resources. How can we stand by and let them kill the only planet we have - we borrow her from future generations- whether it’s your bloodline and dna in her he suture or not is irrelevant , we are not the most important creatures on Earth. We (USA especially) think as a “me” society (me, myself & I) instead of others cultures who think as “We” & it shows in the amount of garbage in their city’s, the way the build things, what energy they use, how they travel, and how they generally act character wise as a society. I am embarrassed to be laughed at as a country- because we’re like reality tv- a joke to everyone else while wondering what’s real and what’s not and why would anyone wanna live like that fr? Idk - I know not everyone’s the same that stereotyping and wrong - but our elected officials, laws voted on/passed, volunteer work , and literal TRASH EVERYWHERE speaks for itself. Everything here is single use plastic wrapped in plastic and more plastic - it gets thrown in the trash - not recycled and ends up in the landfill or ocean? 🌊 maybe your yard, or soil? Gets burned? In the air, or you think mowing it up is cool? Nope microplastics in out soil, water, animals we eat, food, even in our own bodies and blood. It’s gross and I’m unable to eat lots of processed food now. It’s like- I feel wasteful supporting companies who use so much waste - but also preservatives, chemicals, dyes, idk. It’s so phony - obv some is okay & in moderation- but when everything is fast, easy, cheap, sugar, salty, or whatever- it’s all just fake food: I feel like I’m eating junk for every meal.

I want to learn all the native plants for my region so I know what grows best in the is climate survived winter and tolerates drought . I want to know all the plants you should never eat too obv. But gorilla gardening - is the best. Urban gardening. Setting up community gardens or growing food randomly <3 especially wild native plants and fruits /veggies (roots)!

^_^ I don’t like taking all of anything - little bit here little bit there & the rest for nature to work its magic- feed creatures, grow plants next year, whatever<3 I like knowing my plant from this year will kinda be with me when they grow from seed again. ^_^ I’ve gotten better with plants even with adhd and forgetting to water

If you live in apartments or rent- Raised garden beds can be made yourself EASILY- CHEAP- even free depending on the materials you can get for free from around your neighborhood (apps like let go and fb market place always have stuff for free - like fence boards & other stuff you gotta haul away yourself like bricks or stone or dirt or wood. You can build one with PVC pipe or Use a tote . They have all kinds of ways to grow food & flower where you can bring them with you easily - but honestly just pull back grass and make a garden -<3 but I’ve seen an old kitchen sink like a restaurant or auto shop sink- be used as a planter ! You can be artsy and creative . CHAOS GARDENING IS FUN & worth it.

Do whatever makes you happy but I promise bird baths and seed helped me in. Early recovery- then planting flowers & stuff helped me even more grounding and shutting my racing thought off & helping me plan for a future even just a tomorrow- helped with my depression and suicidal ideation & hopelessness / feeling lost. Now that I have been healing my inner child & attempting to address the trauma I experienced throughout my life - layer by layer : & fix relationships . … gardening has been a constant. Helped me take care of another living thing. Water; light; soil, correct environment-like the right pot/container; & kindness- be gentle & give the plant TLC & positive energy. I promise they grow better.

It’s okay if you lost some plants. Once you figure out what plants work easiest for you, you’ll get confident. Start out with easy plants, or things you use & a couple cacti- forget about them lol don’t over water ! ^_^ but an aloe plant is nice if you burn yourself - or GET PET SAFE PLANTS IF YOU HAVE CATS OR DIGS OR HORSES

you can plant wild flower seeds for your eco region anyplace outside too. You won’t get in trouble & it can be a secret- go make your neighborhood prettier ^_^ <3

Alright well random rant over

💟☮️☯️

⚛️

Kitty

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headspace-hotel · 2 years

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How did you learn to recognize saplings? Is there a specific website you used for classifying plants?? I wanna learn!

Google, frustration, sadness, more Google, quite a bit of going through Wikipedia genus by genus and looking at photos...and I'm still not super good at it. The state of online resources for plant identification is wretched. Don't use apps that claim to automatically ID them using a photo, leaf shapes are one of the least reliable indicators.

A lot of my sapling-recognizing abilities were developed by seeing a Weird Plant grow in my yard, then recognizing it as a mini-version of a fully grown tree nearby. Or just going through random pictures on google and seeing one that looks familiar and saving it. I also went through a list of trees native to my area and tried to memorize what they looked like. But I mostly try to get an idea of the most likely possibilities and then look up individual species to see if they look like matches.

There are other signs—for instance, when you break the twig of a black walnut tree, it has a really distinctive and unmistakable smell that you'll know if you've been around them a lot.

A good way to narrow it down with seedlings is to think about how the seedling got there. Some trees' seeds are spread by birds eating their fruits and pooping out the seeds. Some are spread by wind. If it's growing underneath a fence that birds like to sit on, you might have a species that's spread by birds. If it's in a hollow in the ground where fallen leaves like to collect, but it's out in the open away from anything birds might perch on, it was probably blown there.

If you see a seedling you don't recognize, compare its appearance to nearby trees. If its not the same species as any trees close by, it must have traveled from farther away.

Sorry I can't be more helpful—there are just so few good internet resources out there.

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dancingazaleas · 3 years

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jean kirstein | primrose

i love him so much

y’all can’t see it but i am crying

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BEAUTIFUL HIMBO

note: this is unedited

warnings/notes: artist!jean, college au!, gardener!reader, cursing, jean’s in love, nsfw, smut, praise, fingering, soft sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, flower language.

jean wouldn’t say he was popular by any means.

everyone knew of him, but it’s not like they actively tried to befriend him or get to know him. he only really talked to the people in his friend group, and even then it was quite spread out. meaning, there were friend groups inside the friend group. jean doesn’t necessarily understand, but he’ll take what he can get.

jean mostly stayed alone on campus, none of his friends were artists. sasha was in a florist course—or something, jean never hears her speak about it—marco was majoring in nursing along with psychology, and connie was... well... connie? jean knew that connie had classes, but he didn’t even know what they were along with his major.

this meant that jean had no friends in his art classes. he wasn’t upset about it though, he always preferred to keep in his bubble. it only really got annoying whenever the professors would give them group projects.

jean’s sighing while he checks his phone, a text message from sasha that says she’s at the campus’s greenhouse finishing up an assignment. jean and sasha usually hang out until three together, waiting for connie and marco to get out of their own classes.

he grunts as he sets off to the greenhouse, not looking forward to the humidity that awaits him outside of the building. the professor made them work in the sprinkling rain?

jean pulls out an umbrella whenever he gets outside. shivering at the almost dramatic temperature drop whenever he steps outside. he trudges through the soggy grass, ignoring the squelching of his shoes and the water.

“where are you,” he asks whenever he steps inside of the greenhouse, closing his umbrella and inhaling the different smells.

the greenhouse is empty besides one person, sitting on their knees as they fill a hole with soil gently.

“huh? did you need something,” you ask as you pull your gaze away from the plant, eyebrows furrowed.

jean feels his face flush, “oh! i’m sorry... my friend said she was here but you’re the only one who’s here.”

you blink and stare, which makes jean sweat. you light up with realization, “you’re talking about sasha right? if so, she’s here still, just needed to use the bathroom in the next building over.”

he utters a thanks while you get back to your work, awkwardly loitering by the door as a way to wait for his friend.

“wh-what’s your name,” he stutters to you, cringing at how his voice echoes against the glass of the building.

“i’m (name) (last name). you?”

“j..jean kirstein. nice to meet you,” he nods with a gulp.

“not to be offensive, and even if i say that, it might be, but you don’t exactly look like a horticultural major. what are you majoring in,” you’ve not looked up from the plant you’re caring for.

“i’m an art major,” he spits out.

you pause your movements and look up to the window for a moment, relaxed smile on your face.

“funny,” you shrug and go back to your task, “i don’t think i’ve ever painted before.”

he relaxes his tense shoulders, shock written all over his pretty face, “you’ve never painted?!”

“nope.”

“what about when you were a kid?”

“no, my parents didn’t approve of messes along with anything that wasn’t proven to meet their standards,” your bottom lip juts out from concentration.

“i see,” he hums, but he really doesn’t. his mother’s always been so supportive of him and whatever he’s chose to do with his life, and still he treated her horribly when he was younger.

“what’s this project even about,” he asks, walking closer to observe your craft.

“sasha and i have to try and grow strawberries on their own... it may not seem too difficult, but strawberries are an absolute pain to maintain care for,” you sigh with disappointment, “but i’m not working on that for right now, i’m just planting for now.”

“what are you planting?” jean’s sure that you’re becoming annoyed with him and all of the questions he’s asking.

you smile a bit, “lilac.”

jean can’t see exactly how that makes you happy or flustered, but considering you’re the expert and he isn’t, he’s not gonna ask. he goes to open his mouth once more, but the greenhouse door creaking open interrupts him.

“sorry jean! there was this long line in the girl’s bathroom,” sasha blurts as she shuffles into the room and shakes the rain off of her shoes.

“it’s fine, don’t worry,” he holds up a hand snd shakes his head.

“oh! (name), you’re still here,” she asks whenever she steps closer.

“yea, just felt like gardening,” you place the pot down gently and look up to her from your place on the floor.

“what’re you plantin’?”

“lilac,” jean answers for her and is once again struck by confusion whenever sasha’s cheeks light up as a smile stretches across her face.

he looks back to you to find you glaring at sasha with a secret knowledge.

“what? what’s so weird about it,” he asks, looking between you two.

“nothing nothing, jeanie boy! c’mon, i want a burger,” she giggles as she waves her hand up and down, turning around to go out of the door.

“didn’t niccolo feed you earlier,” he scoffs, following behind.

“yeah! he made me lobster. anyways, bye (name)!” she grins as she opens the door after taking jean’s umbrella.

jean fusses over her lack of care as he snatches his umbrella back from her and puts it over the both of them. briefly, his mind wonders back to you.

————

next time jean sees you, you’re looking quite frustrated and upset as you shovel dirt into a an empty pot. sasha is, once again, going to the bathroom in the building over.

“are you alright,” he’s hesitant.

you jump up, not even noticing him once he’d walked in. you relax while you sigh, eyebrows bunching up in frustration.

“i’m okay,” it seems you’re telling yourself this more than you tell jean, “my parents are just being upsetting.”

jean gets a text from sasha, telling him that she’s going to go to the bathroom in the main building since the line was too long. he doesn’t care for some reason, instead taking a seat beside you on the ground.

“wanna talk about it,” he asks, his body warm next to your’s.

you sigh for the umpteenth time, “we’ve only met once and i’d feel as if i would be dumping this onto you.”

“i don’t mind. if you don’t want to speak about it, i won’t force you,” he shrugs.

“well,” you start with reluctance, “my family’s always been judgmental of how i should be allowed to spend my time. not only that, but careers, interests, and friends.”

“and i assume they’ve said something about your major,” he assumes, slightly sad as you nod.

“bingo. they don’t think it’s sophisticated enough for me, but i’m not too sophisticated myself. i’m barely an adult, i’ve just turned 19. why they won’t let me be a kid is beyond me,” you gently lay the seed into the soil of the pot.

“i’ve never had this issue, so i can’t say that i completely understand or that what i say will help. however, good parents shouldn’t treat their child like that. you’re your own person, they shouldn’t be trying to limit you and your experiences. it’s not fair to you,” he says, “you’re parents are ignorant.”

you stifle a laugh, “thank you, jean. i appreciate it, genuinely.”

his cheeks flush as he nods, telling you that it was just something a friend would do for another.

“what’s your instagram,” you ask, swiftly pulling your phone from your pocket and pulling up the app.

he tells you nervously, three dings emitting from his phone in his pocket. one follow, one like, and one message.

jean finds himself texting you at nine pm.

————

jean finds himself giddy a few months later. he’s talked to you nonstop ever since he’s gotten your instagram, easily falling for you as he learns more about you.

he’s teaching you how to paint today. or, not really teach, but just helping you get started.

he sits on his couch while he waits, opting to watch some k-drama that connie recommend to him. he tells you that you can just walk in since the door’s unlocked, but jean has a feeling you would’ve just walked in anyways.

he hugs you excitedly whenever you walk in, leading you over to one of the easel and canvases he’s set up for you. he looks at your outfit.

“you’re wearing that?” he asks, not really thinking before he speaks.

“yea...? gotta problem with it,” you’re immediately defensive, and it has jean bouncing back with realization.

“oh my god, i meant you’re wearing that to paint? you’re outfit looks good on you! it’s cute! n-not to say that you’re cute or anything! er—i don’t mean that you’re not cute!” jean flushes, “i am... going to stop talking..”

you giggle at him, “it’s okay jean, i know what you mean.”

“o-okay,” he relaxes, “do you need to borrow any clothes? i don’t want your shirt to get dirtied.”

“just a shirt, your pants wouldn’t fit me,” you ask while you untuck your loose white button up from your jeans.

he scurries off to find you a shirt, slapping himself on the forehead in embarrassment. he grabs you a light grey shirt with paint splotches scattered on it, which he’s once painted a mural in.

he turns his back to you whenever he gives you the shirt, instead focusing on the collection of painting supplies he’s set out on his work tray. he’s chosen acrylics for you, claiming that they’re the easiest to do if you’re a beginner. you have a feeling that he’s lying, especially since he’s an art major.

“are we painting anything specific,” you ask and sit down on the stool provided for you.

“actually, i was thinking of letting you choose. maybe some flowers or plants since they help you relax,” he contemplates aloud, hand pressed to his chin.

“let’s paint a sunflower,” you say reluctantly, “they should be easy enough to paint.”

he nods, starting put small spurts of paint onto his pallet. you mimic his actions, carefully stroking the canvas with your paintbrush.

“relax your shoulders,” he suggests, noticing just how stiff you are, “if you’re too stiff then the painting will be too. this is about relaxing.”

“i just don’t want to make any mistakes.”

“hey, like bob ross always says; there are no mistakes, just happy accidents,” jean gives a lazy smile as he continues to paint.

you laugh at him, finally relaxing your body and brushing the brush across the canvas. you both chat absentmindedly as you paint, finding comfort in one another’s voice and movements. you’re both playing 20 questions, if you can call a conversation that.

“the most embarrassing thing... probably walking in on my friends having sex,” he briefly remembers his friend, bertholdt, on top of reiner, “it’s how they came out to me.”

you cackle, “oh my god!! they must’ve been mortified!!”

“they were, i felt so bad for walking in on them. now, it’s a funny joke since they’re both out to everyone,” he snickers, “now, where’s your favorite place on earth that you’ve been to?”

“a amusement park over in marley. snuck off with my first ever boyfriend there,” you stroke your brush once more, “or maybe the swimming pool in my parents house. anywhere that i can feel weightless.”

he hums in acknowledgment, “mine’s out in the forest probably. i like it quiet.”

“quiet is always nice. so, jean, have you ever had a girlfriend,” you laugh at jean’s face scrunch up from a childish question.

“yeah, i’ve had one. it went really well at first but it turns out that she likes girls. it hurt at first, cause i loved her, but i got over it. i’ve got no hard feelings against her, she can’t help liking girls. her and i are just really close friends now,” he has a fond smile on his face as he thinks of mikasa.

“i’m glad the two of you are still friends, and i’m sure that she appreciates your kindness to her,” you reciprocate a smile.

“me too. anyways, since you want to dive into my love life, let’s dive into your’s. have you ever been in love?”

you face heats up while you pause your movements, “y-yeah. not until recently though.”

jean’s eyes widen as his own cheeks flush a bright red, and for once he prays.

he prays that it’s him you’re in love with.

————

a month later and you still have the painting of a sunflower that jean did. it makes you embarrassed every time you look at it, even though jean didn’t know the meaning behind the flower.

you sit on the floor of the greenhouse, ignoring how the rain thumps gently on the glass roof. jean’s sitting beside you, leaning all of his weight on your body, which makes you laugh.

“you never told me what you’re planting,” he points out while adding more of his weight onto you.

you laugh while you shove him off of you, “i can’t with you on me like that.”

“well, now i’m not on you so,” he grins cockily, and you want to smack it off of him.

“okay, okay! i’m planting a primrose,” you say while you gently plant a seed into the soil.

“what’s the occasion?”

“what do you mean,” you raise a questioning eyebrow.

“my dad always got my mom those flowers on valentine’s day or for their anniversary. now, my mom puts them on his grave. it means ‘i can’t live without you’ or symbolizes young love,” he explains, “who’re they for?”

embarrassment hits you like truck. you were planting these for jean. whenever they were blooming, you were going to give them to him. thank god you didn’t.

you laugh nervously, “no one! i just felt like planting them! they’re pretty flowers.”

“whatever you say,” jean shrugs, heart tingling with pain.

whenever the flowers had bloomed, you stood at jean’s doorstep with the pot in your hands. your cheeks were hot as you stared at your feet, hoping to god that jean felt the same way towards you.

when jean opens his door, he doesn’t expect to see you holding the potted plant. you’d told him that it wasn’t for anyone and it wasn’t for him, so why’d you have it. did you want him to take care of it or something?

“for you,” you stumble over your words a bit while you thrust the pot against his chest.

it’s his turn to be embarrassed, these are for him! the flower is so pretty, full bloom and showing itself off towards the sun. jean hurries to place the pot on his living room coffee table, then he pounces.

his arms wrap around you and hold you close, his face is emitting a heat when he pulls away to look at you.

“me too,” you look at him confused, “i love you too.”

you feel like crying, for some reason this means the absolute world to you. you wrap your arms around his neck, not able to hold back the tears forming in your eyes.

“why didn’t you tell me sooner,” he laughs while squeezing you tight.

“i did,” your laughter is muffled until he pulls away.

“when?”

“since we met. granted, i didn’t expect to meet you that day. lilac means the start of a new love. and then i told you again when you painted the sunflower again. sunflowers mean pure love,” you wipe away tears as jean pulls you inside his house by your hand.

“i’m such an idiot,” he smacks a palm to his forehead, “that’s what you and sasha were laughing about when we met, wasn’t it?”

“yea,” you watch him lead you to his bedroom, somewhere that you’ve been to on many occasions.

he crawls into bed beside you, pulling you closer to him—if it were even possible. he’s littering your face with soft kisses that tickle your skin and make you giggle.

“what are you doing?!”

“i’ve been wanting to do this since i’ve met you, give me a break,” he mumbles against your skin, lips finally making contact with your’s.

the kiss is sweet like candy, and you almost can’t take it. you deepen the kiss without hesitation, surprising jean, who obviously reciprocates. you whimper against jean’s mouth whenever you grant him access to explore your own.

he pulls away, a shy look in his eyes that tells you exactly what he’s thinking.

“yes, jean. as long as you’re gentle,” you put a hand on top his cheek, stroking it gently.

he smiles before asking his next question shyly, “could we... do a different position? one that isn’t missionary.”

“jean, i’ve only had sex a few times. all were in missionary and were hookups. as long as it’s with you, i don’t mind what we do,” you reassure, scooting closer to him.

he’s surprised that his face doesn’t burst into flames, at this point.

“okay... could you... turn around,” your face twists into confusion, “you’ll find out.”

it sounds ominous, but since it’s jean, you don’t mind. you turn your back to him, shivering whenever his lips kiss at the nape of your neck. his chest presses against your back and he slips one of his arms under the arm against the bed.

his lips bite on your neck while his hands sliver their way up to your boobs. you sit up for a moment, pulling the loose shirt you were wearing off of your body. you shimmy your pants off while you’re at it, easily flopping back into jean’s arms.

god, he’s so close to fainting just from seeing you without clothes. especially when he realizes that you’re not wearing a bra.

his hands grope at your chest, rolling your nipples through his nimble fingers. you whimper shyly, hand coming up to grab at his own.

“cute,” he smiles whenever you look over your shoulder, the same hand drifting from your tit to the waistline of your panties.

his hand reaches inside your hand plain underwear as you willingly spread your legs open, something you’re secretly embarrassed about, but you decide to ignore it anyways. with hesitance, his fingertip comes in contact with your clit. you flinch at the contact and let out a gasp, once again squeezing at his hand.

“spread your legs wider for me, love,” he murmurs in your ear, nudging his wrist against your thigh.

you oblige silently, hooking your foot around the back of jean’s knee.

“good girl,” he smiles, two fingers gently pressing against your clit after he’s wet them with his spit.

you moan out whenever jean starts rubbing lazy circles into your clit and his other hand gropes at your tit. your hips buck forward on instinct, which has you biting your lip from embarrassment.

“can you try to keep your hips still for me,” he kisses at your earlobe, stubble scratching against your neck.

you nod to him, even if you both know that you won’t uphold that promise.

whenever his fingers move up a speed, so does the volume of your moans.

“jean,” you whimper, “i’m gonna cum.”

“it’s okay, you’ve been so good for me, my pretty girl. go ahead and cum,” he smiles against your skin, once again speeding up his tempo.

your nails are biting into his wrist as your hips start to buck almost uncontrollably. your head is thrown back while you open your mouth in a silent scream and your eyes roll back. jean slows his pace, helping you ride out your orgasm.

his smile stretches wider when he holds his fingers up to the light, admiring how the digits glistened in against the early morning sun peeking through the curtains. he also manages to take off your panties.

he puts the two fingers in your mouth once he’s done admiring them, cooing praises in your ear. a string of salvia is connect to his fingertips whenever he pulls them out of your mouth, making you whine in embarrassment. he chuckles and reaches his warm hand back down to your wet cunt.

you gasp at the coldness of your spit coming into contact with your heated entrance. his fingers enter you slowly and cautiously and it takes your breath away.

“you’re so tight,” still smiling, “when’s the last time you’ve gotten laid, pretty girl?”

“f-fuck... maybe like... six months ago,” you pant like a dog in heat.

“it’s good thing you’ve got me now, huh? gonna take care of you now.”

you’re squeezing your pretty eyes closed while you adjust to the feeling of two fingers inside of you. jean feels himself memorizes the look on your face in his brain whenever he gives a shallow thrust with his fingers. you wiggle your hips a bit, whining out for jean to give you more.

he does exactly that.

he starts to finger you slowly, eventually speeding up the speed as you get more and more used to the feeling. his fingers curl against your sweet spot that has you bucking your hips once again.

“there! there,” you buck again when he continues to brush over it.

angling his fingers just right, he starts to thrust and curl his fingers inside of you at the perfect speed.

“fuck! fuck! fuck!” you gasp whenever your toes start to curl.

“are you gonna cum again? it’s okay. go ahead and cum on my fingers, pretty girl,” he reassures while pecking at your neck lazily.

you come once again after a few seconds pass, legs shaking when jean doesn’t slow down his speed.

“can’t...! i can’t cum again,” you whimper while arching your back against jeans torso.

“i know you can,” he whispers, “gotta prepare you for my cock, remember?”

his filthy words make you mewl as you feel yourself already approaching another orgasm quickly. you scream whenever you orgasm again, hips jerking back and forth wildly as his other hand starts rubbing on your puffy little clit.

you’re crying from the intensity. you’re sure that if you’d be able to take all of this if you had fucked anyone these past six months.

instead of slowing down, jean actually speeds up his movements again. you know that you’re mascara might be smearing, you can’t remember if it’s waterproof, tear proof—what the fuck ever.

your legs convulse when jean manages to work you up to another mind blowing orgasm. but this time, you squirt all over jean’s hand and the insides of your plump thighs.

“there we go,” he praises, “that’s what i needed.”

he’s finally slowing his fingers down, and you wonder if they’re aching at the moment.

“thank you, thank you, thank you,” you babble as your nails scratch at his wrist.

“such a sweet girl, thanking me when i haven’t even trained you.”

your chest is heaving up and down while jean pulls his cock out of his pants, a moment’s rest.

you gulp whenever you see his dick. you didn’t believe sasha’s jokes whenever she said jean not only had a horse face but also a horse cock. how she knew, you didn’t ask, but either way she was right. you’d have to apologize to sasha for not heeding her warnings after this.

“don’t be scared, love. i’ll take care of you,” he comforts you while pulling your leg up a bit.

his fingers squeeze at the soft flesh that’s the back of your thigh, instructing you on how to insert himself in your tight little pussy.

after guiding jean’s cock in you, you sob out from just how much he fills you up already. you don’t take a pause, too eager to feel jean inside of you.

noticing this, jean hooks his arm around your thigh and grabs your hand. the angle has his hitting spots that he hadn’t before, pussy fluttering around his cock in effect.

“be patient,” he demands in a soft tone, his hand guiding your own, “i don’t want to hurt you.”

“don’t care, need you so bad,” you sniffle and wiggle your hips once more, ignoring the slight burn.

sighing, jean carefully thrusts the rest of his cock inside of you. you sob out in both pleasure and pain, hand now going back to scratching at his wrist.

“i told you, sweet girl,” you look at him from over your shoulder, “you gotta listen to me.”

“‘m sorry,” you whimper while jean kisses away a tear.

“t’s okay, now just wait until your comfortable,” he advises, unhooking his arm from your thigh and holding it with his hand.

it takes a minute or two, but jean is nothing but attentive during this. thumb stroking your thigh, lips kissing your neck and cheek, whispering quietly in your ear that you’re doing so well.

when you’re ready, he thrusts into you softly. he doesn’t want to hurt you, even when his dick hurts from not cumming. after seeing you’re alright with it, he thrusts more vigorously. with your skin slapping against one another’s tenderly and tits bouncing jean is groaning in your ear.

the hand not holding your thigh holds onto your boob, pinching your nipple and then rolling it in between his fingers again. the kisses he’s pressing against your shoulder feels so hot and sweet against your sweaty skin.

your whines and moans are so cute, begging for jean to cum at the same time you do and for him to come inside.

“you want my cum in you,” he pants, “anything you want since you’ve asked so nicely.”

he speeds his hips up just a bit, guttural groans coming from his throat as your pussy grips him like a vise.

“gonna cum, gonna cum,” you’re mewling almost makes jean black out.

“i’m right behind you, go ahead, love,” his eyebrows bunch together as he nears his orgasm.

after two more thrusts, the both of you are coming. jean’s groans are surprisingly starting to turn into soft moans, which is something you’ll try to get out of him another time.

after you both come down from your high, jean’s pulling his softening dick out of you. he lays on his backside, pulling your weak body on top of his chest with ease.

“love you,” he smiles and gives you a kiss.

“primrose love,” you smile goofily at him.

“primrose love.”

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #aot jean #snk jean #jean aot #jean kirschstein #jean kirstein x you #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein #jean smut #aot fluff #aot smut

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sleepfight · 3 years

Note

🌸 🏀 🐍 for barty boy and percy

MMKAY I'm just gonna do these for Bart for now because the questions are kinda long P:

🌸 What’s a sentence that would make your OC’s day better? One that would make them laugh? One that would make their day worse? Why? What words would you have to say to them to completely ruin their day?

Make his day better: "Wanna go check your trail cams?" Bart is easily overwhelmed and retreating to the woods is a surefire way to calm him down. But he doesn't like acknowledging meltdowns directly so by offering to go to check his cams, it gets him to the woods where he can do a familiar activity without him having to admit he's struggling.

Make him laugh: "I heard John ripped the ass of his pants trying to pick up a keg at the cookout." Literally anything that involves John Seed making a fool of himself will make Bart laugh like a hyena. Also fart jokes, unfortunately.

Make his day worse: "I think Zip is in your driveway." Zip and Bart have an extreme hatred of each other and fuck with each other constantly. If Zip is seen running off the property, the mailbox is probably full of live hornets.

Ruin his day: “What, you stupid or something?” Bart is too self-absorbed and disinterested in normal social mores to be insecure about many things. But his way of thinking has always been different from his peers and he’s received very little accommodation over his life with many authority figures dismissing him as unsalvageable. He is a voracious learner when it’s a topic he chooses for himself but he has almost no formal education so being called stupid completely dismisses how hard he’s worked to teach himself and brings up a lot of old pain from growing up neurodivergent. Calling him stupid is one of the only insults left that still effectively hurts his feelings.

(Continued under cut)

🏀 Does your OC have any skills that people wouldn’t expect them to have? Do they have a hobby or pastime that others would consider strange or weird? How did they learn this particular skill or pick up this hobby?

I'm gonna say that UFO hunting is a lifestyle, not a hobby, but an offshoot of his interest in cryptids is an interest in conservation and ecology. He isn’t formally involved with any particular group or organization but has taken it upon himself to maintain planting projects, brush clearing, litter collection, etc in the woods throughout Hope county. He is very concerned with keeping the forest protected and has earned a reputation as a Lorax wannabe from some folk and as an eco-terrorist from people like John Seed. He once chained himself to a backhoe to halt production in one of John’s developments because it would destroy a small pond used by ducks during nesting season.

This interest in nature evolved organically just with how much time he spent out in the woods to begin with, both for comfort and to snoop for jackalopes. He’s an excellent hiking partner if you don’t mind him being a chatterbox, he’s literally just a walking field-guide and will point out EVERYTHING. Need some mysterious animal poop identified? Brother, he’s got you covered.

He also disassembles old engines and makes scrap sculptures out of them! The trailer park residents hate him!!

🐍Is your OC a good liar? How easy is it for them to tell lies? What is the biggest lie they’ve ever told and did they ever get found out? On the other hand, what is the biggest lie someone has told your OC and did they believe them?

NOPE HE IS SO, SO, SOOOOOO BAD AT IT. Bart is extremely blunt and honest and genuinely doesn’t understand why other people aren’t. Lying doesn’t make sense to him because why wouldn’t you just say what you mean? What is the point of lying? What does it accomplish? Even little white lies that might spare someone’s feelings are hard for him to grasp, though he does try to choose his words more carefully after being told he’s a dick one too many times. People accuse Bart of lying all the time (which he HATES) but he always tells the truth, as he sees it.

The biggest lie he has ever told was while under heavy influence from bliss and it was telling Jason and Uri that he was happy to be chosen by Joseph. This was to manipulate them into joining Eden’s Gate and something he would regret for the rest of his life.

The biggest lie anyone has ever told him is his entire existence tbh. Gaslighting (ACTUAL gaslighting) is a huuuuuuuuuuge part of Bart’s story and there have been people tasked with manipulating him since he was a child. One of the most vile examples are doctors on Joseph’s payroll who convince Bart that he is psychotic and give him placebo pills to treat his hallucinations while EG continues to secretly expose him to bliss, triggering visions. It takes a very long time for Bart to recover his sense of self after the events with Joseph.

#I WILL TRY TO DO PERCY LATER #oc: bartholomew #ask game

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dykeninthdoctor · 4 years

Note

You asked for prompts, so maybe Rhodey/Tony with the Avengers meeting Rhodey for the first time and realizing how devoted Tony is to him? Like Tony has been doing that Trademark Stark thing but then the team sees him with Rhodey for the first time and realizes THIS is the real Tony.

thank you for the prompt!!! this was so much fun to write, i hope you enjoy!!

Tony Stark is an enigma.

He wears expressions like they’re masks, and wields words like they’re weapons, and takes people apart with one piercing glance.

He’s more than a man, he’s a paradox; he isn’t made of flesh and bone and blood, no, Tony Stark is made of gears and wires and lines of code that run the solutions to every possible problem before they happen.

It’s terrifying.

Natasha looks at him, and to her, he’s a mirror; Tony reflects what they all want to see. And mirrors are not glass. She can’t tell what’s real, can’t see through him at all, and she hates it. It makes her feel weak. She tries breaking the mirror, breaking Tony, but it doesn’t work. Even at his lowest point, sitting across from her and Fury in the diner, he reflects what she wants to see–a broken man. And yet, not a broken mirror.

Steve doesn’t know what to think of him; he is nothing like Howard, and yet he is everything like Howard. Steve sees Howard in the way Tony balances five conversations at once, the way Tony knows he’s the smartest person in the room and acts like it, the way he carries himself with his hands constantly in motion. It makes Steve ache for the time he left behind.

Bruce only sees an equal in him; their minds attract each other like magnets. But magnets can repel each other, can become polar opposites so very easily, and as Tony starts pushing, Bruce lets himself be repelled, because it’s easier than answering Tony’s questions that strike too close. Bruce doesn’t know how he does it, how he can find someone’s heart in minutes, especially because Tony acts like he doesn’t understand people at all. It’s fascinating, and confusing, and not a magnet Bruce wants to draw in.

Clint thinks it’s all a show; Tony acts like the people he grew up around, performers who used flashy tricks to distract the audience from their real movements. Tony is a magician, Clint realizes, after he reviews the footage of the days he missed, and sees things no one else caught, sees the bugs he plants and the seeds he sows, because Tony was too busy distracting them all with his words.

He’s a myriad of things, a collection of lies and half-truths, and the Avengers don’t know what to do with him.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do with you,” Tony hears, and he knows he’s covered in engine grease and that there’s probably some in his hair, but that’s not really the point. Then there’s arms wrapping around him, a chest pressing to his back, lips against his temple, the smell of jasmine lotion surrounding him, Rhodey slotting into place behind him.

It’s embarrassing how long it takes Tony’s brain to register the facts, and he turns around so quickly he gets whiplash.

“You’re home!”

“Clearly I’m less interesting than that engine that you’re working on.”

“I haven’t slept in two days,” Tony says, just to watch Rhodey get that crinkle in his brow. He kisses it. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, genius.” Rhodey’s lips trail across the exposed skin of his shoulder. “You’re wearing my sweatshirt.”

“When am I not wearing your sweatshirt, honey bear?”

“When I’m taking it off of you,” Rhodey says, punctuating it with a bite.

“Oh, yeah, fair point–“

Rhodey cuts him off with a kiss.

Steve walks in on them first, in the kitchen, where Tony’s sitting on the counter with his legs crossed under him, drowning in clothes that are too big for him and mismatched socks, wearing a smile that’s as blinding as the sun.

He feels like it’s a moment that needs to be captured in time, but only for the two men in front of him, a moment that he wasn’t meant to see.

Tony doesn’t look anything like Howard as he draws Jim Rhodes into a kiss.

Steve leaves, and if he draws the smile on Tony’s face and gives the picture to Jim later, that’s between them.

Natasha finds them during movie night, when Tony’s sleeping on top of Jim Rhodes, head pillowed on his chest and arms wrapped around his waist, bare feet hanging out at the end of the blanket that covers them both. The movie plays as background noise; even Natasha can see that Jim’s only got eyes for Tony.

When she comes closer to pull the blanket over Tony’s feet and Jim mouths a silent thanks to her, she sees Tony’s face, half-pressed into Jim’s neck.

He looks content. No mirror to reflect what she wants to see, only glass to show her what Jim Rhodes always sees.

Jim’s gaze shifts to meet hers.

“Wanna watch?” he asks softly, motioning towards the T.V. with a brush of his hand across Tony’s back.

The offer is surprising, but what’s more surprising is when she sits down, and Jim lets her put Tony’s feet in her lap to keep the blanket from slipping off of them again.

Neither of them watch the movie much, and Natasha realizes, as Tony starts to stir, and is greeted with a soft kiss from Jim, that the mirror doesn’t need breaking to show her the real Tony Stark.

Bruce comes across them in Tony’s workshop, where Tony’s lying on his stomach across a workbench, focused on a holographic blueprint of the War Machine armor, arms and legs dangling off the edge of the bench like he’s a little kid. Jim Rhodes’ fingers are loosely entwined with Tony’s from where he sits on stool, looking at the same hologram but in a smaller size.

Before Bruce can say anything, Tony rolls off the bench with no verbal warning; Jim catches him anyway.

They stand up together, and then suddenly they’re working together in a seamless dance of passing parts and trading kisses, the moon orbiting the earth, or the earth orbiting the sun, and Bruce thinks that maybe he does want to draw in the magnet that is Tony Stark.

Clint’s the last person in the Tower to see them, and when he does, they find him, rather than the other way around.

He’s sitting on the roof, because open air clears the clutter in his mind, and he hears the door open behind him.

They don’t even notice him, too wrapped up in each other, Tony tugging Jim outside, his quips and tricks and words turned soft, and they’re met with a smile that’s just as soft. None of it is a show, not for Jim Rhodes.

Clint clears his throat.

“You two should get a room.”

“Christ, birdbrain, warn a guy!” Tony yelps. His hand doesn’t leave Jim’s, and his face doesn’t change, and Clint thinks that maybe the curtains have closed for real, and the show is over for the Avengers, too.

Tony Stark is still an enigma.

But now, the Avengers understand him a bit better.

They understand that he belongs to Jim, and that Jim belongs to him, and that they are each other’s. They understand that if they don’t try to learn who Tony is, it won’t work, because the only person who can know him without any effort is Jim Rhodes. They understand that Tony will be what they want to see, that he will be abrasive and sharp, that he will be polarizing, that he will put on a show, unless he is with Jim Rhodes. They understand that Tony is not what they thought.

It’s still terrifying.

But it’s terrifying because Tony’s love is terrifying, all-encompassing, and they’ve only experienced a fragment of it.

It’s a miracle, they think, that Jim Rhodes hasn’t burned up yet.

Then again, Tony Stark protects his own.

#someone tell me to stop using the sun/icarus metphor like SERIOUSLY i need to stop #anyway uhhhhhhhh tony stark is human and he's only human with rhodey so....yeah....stan that #tony stark #james rhodey rhodes #iron man #war machine #rhodeytony #ironhusbands #ironhusbands drabble #tony stark drabble #aven.writing #aven.ask #?? ig bc i answered a prompt request #anon

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cherrysha · 4 years

Text

Lesson Learned

Okay so it’s canon that nobu is not not the sharpest. Motherfucker locked the door when two kids smashed thru a wall to break out. So I was sittin there like 🤔 what typa yandere would he be? Like if he didn’t want to use force what would he do instead? I think he’d stall trying to think it through until it was too late to be subtle.so i wrote abt it.

Summary: Nobu helps you through a breakup. Also the reader is very naive

Word Count: 2.8k

My requests are open atm

Warnings: Alcohol, drunk sex, unprotected sex, Vaginal fingering, yandere themes, dubcon/noncon

18+ Only

Taglist: @ramwrites @prettycutebunny @absolute-flaming-trash

Nobu meets you there, a small rundown looking bar on the outskirts of town. As he enters, he sees you sitting at the bar, a small smile on your face as you vacantly stare at the wooden countertop. That, along with the half empty glass in your hand, makes it clear that you’ve started without him.

“What are we celebrating?”

“Ahh, a waste of four months of my life! Rejoicing the end of a shit relationship.”

You’ve already managed to make a scene, much to his dismay. The bystanders around you seemingly more boisterous as you raise your shot in cheers.

“I’ll buy us a round for that!” The tall brunette next to you chuckles. Older, maybe in her late forties, and a little drunker than you were right now. As she hands you the drink, he can’t help but think of the ten different ways she could’ve spiked it with something, how trusting you were when you truly shouldn’t have been. Of course, he wouldn’t let that happen to you, but the thought alone is enough to irritate him.

He’d manufactured the breakup, of course. Planted a seed in your mind that the man was seeing someone else and carefully placed evidence when he knew he wouldn’t be caught. It was surprisingly easy. The cheap plastic lock on your window wasn’t all that sturdy; He’d told you to change it before he left but you’d just shrugged and told him that there wasn’t anything in your apartment worth stealing. So naive. Couldn’t really blame you for finding someone though. It seemed somewhere along the way he’d miscalculated. Thought maybe if given time you’d come to realize just how much he meant to you, how much you meant to each other. Obviously, his mistake was giving you a choice in the matter.

“You gunna drink Nobu?” You giggle, hands tugging and getting lost in the folds of his robe. Always so handsy when you drank; At least your affection was focused on him this time.

“Not tonight sweetheart” he smiles at the pronounced pout on your face, lip jutting out at him.

He wraps an arm around you to the other side of the stool and pushes you closer.

“Hey, if I’m drunk too then who’s gunna watch out for you? Can’t defend your honor if I can’t see straight right?”

His teasing and light poke of your nose makes you giggle again, burying your head in his side. Nobu had always felt safe, one of the few men who wouldn’t read your affection as flirtation. You could hug him the same way that you did with your girl friends and not have to worry about it being misconstrued.

It didn’t take as long as he thought it would for you to call him, if anything you’d messaged him maybe two hours after he planted the women’s clothing in your apartment. Sure, he didn’t expect you to go and get wasted, but he could work with this. So sweet, that’s what infatuated him in the first place. Trusting and affectionate and so, so gullible. Couldn’t tell when a man wanted you, when he wanted you.

As per your earlier request to “keep ‘em comin’” The bartender slides you another drink. Something fruity from the looks of it. He smiles as you play with the condensation on the side of the glass.

“Can I ask you something?”

You’re hesitant and he wonders if it’s because he may say no, or because of the answer you may get.

“Shoot.”

Your apprehension is almost palpable, but he ignores the little squirm of your body against his.

“D-D’you mind if I stay with you tonight? I mean I gave him a couple of days to move out and all and I -“

“It’s fine.” He tries to make his voice sound irritated, but follows it up with something sweet to discourage you from backtracking. “What are friends for, right? You can stay until he’s gone.” Offers you a kind smile to subdue any apprehension you felt.

When he left you’d found someone. Some bland looking man who had a desk job and promised you a plain life. As if that’s what you wanted.

He can’t help but smile as you take shot after shot, body swaying with the boom from the overhead speakers. It’s only when you get really loud that he decides it’s time to go.

“Y’don’t wanna dance Nobu?” You slur as he practically carries you out.

“No, baby I think it’s time we left” you start to whine but he hushes you, stopping in front of your car to dig through your purse for the keys.

“Hey Nobu?” You whisper, eyes blank and staring at the wet concrete.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

You don’t respond so he figures you’ve already forgotten the question and focuses on getting you in the vehicle and securing your belt. Head resting against the seat, you close your eyes, only speaking again when the car is pulling out of the lot.

“Nobu?”

He doesn’t respond. Focuses on the road as you work through whatever you had to say

“Nobu...I think maybe I wasn’t good enough.” his eyes flick to you as he gives you a sigh.

“Any man that thinks you’re not good enough is a fucking idiot.” He expected this. Made a list of answers to your self-hatred so he wouldn’t get angry in the moment. Such a stupid thought, he blames it on the alcohol to soothe the irritation in his chest.

“Why did you wear a dress anyway?” He questioned, sitting on the edge of his bed as you take your hair down.

“Cuz then I can take it off easy! Pants are too hard when you’re drunk.”

He’s seen your panty-clad ass multiple times tonight. Teasing him with every sloppy movement you made. Getting on the stool at the bar, getting off of it, getting in and out of the car. He got a good look at the pretty lace covering your womanhood. As you pull it over your head, he gets to see a little pink bow that rests at the top of the underwear this time.

So brash, in all the years he’d been by your side he’d never seen this much of you. He knew it was the drinks, but It’s almost like you wanted it.

“Nobu?”

He hesitates, taking in the way your body looks as you stretch your arms above your head, yawn falling from your open mouth.

“Yeah?”

“D’you have something I could sleep in?” You ask it like you know he’s willing to give you something. Like he doesn’t want to see your naked body in his bed, fucked out and delirious with pleasure.

“What if I don’t?” He tried to mask the lust on his face with indifference and watches as you cross your arms.

“Not even a shirt?” He shakes his head no.

Too tired to really care, and too wasted to have any modesty, you crawl into his bed with a huff.

“Fine! Be like that then!” So cute when you were mad, face scrunching up as if your reaction alone could sway him. To be fair, it usually did.

He’s deftly untying his robe when he speaks over his shoulder to you.

“I don’t want you throwing up on my stuff... lucky I’m not making you sleep on the couch.” He mutters loud enough for you to hear.

He expects you to get angrier, but his fingers halt when he hears your giggle.

“What’s so funny y/n?” He stands, taking his pants off before coming to sit next to your body sprawled across his bed. You acted as if you belonged. A breathing sculpture made for his eyes only and soft skin forged just for his hands to enjoy. In his bed. Giggling and almost naked.

“You wouldn’t ever ever make me sleep on the couch!”

“And why’s that?” He grunts

“Because I’m your best friend” And you say it with so much confidence it pulls a smile to his face.

“Ah, I guess you’re right there.”

After a few beats he lets his hair down and comes to join you, laying to rest next to your body as you begin to squirm with a frown.

“What’s wrong now?”

“My bra... I need a shirt... can’t take it off without a shirt.. cuz then -“

“Take it off y/n.” His tone is clipped and the way he’s staring at you, you read it as annoyed. He’s right, he’s your best friend. It’s only weird because you’re making it weird. The alcohol fuzzes any concept of propriety from your mind.

You sit up and try to unclasp it yourself but, in your state, the tiny hooks are a puzzle you can’t quite figure out. Just fucking asking for it, he thinks to himself as you allow him to unclip it for you. He takes the initiative to trail his fingers down your arms with the straps, watching goosebumps raise on your flesh.

“Thanks nobu” You smile, quickly covering yourself with the blanket before he has a chance to get a proper look.

It’s maddening. He’s painfully hard, has been painfully hard since you took the damn dress off. He takes a few moments to collect himself, propped up on the bed with an elbow, he pinches the bridge of his nose. Closes his eyes and breathes.

“D-Did I do something?” You whisper, face half hidden under the comforter as you stare up at him.

“No. It’s just -“ he pauses, thinks of something to say besides ‘you’re being a fucking tease and it’s taking everything in me to be patient with this’

“You know how many people could’ve taken advantage of you tonight?”

He looks for a response and finds you shaking your head ‘no’, blanket tucked around your chest as big watery eyes meet his.

“Fuck me” he groans.

Having enough, he pushes you flat on your back, arm coming to cup your face.

“Don’t cry. Just answer me.” He still sounds annoyed, so you obediently lay there and listen. What if you annoyed him so bad that he forced you to leave? It’s not like you could go home, or even get there in this state.

“What if someone touched you like this?” His hand keeps caressing the side of your face, thumb swiping down to your bottom lip every so often.

“Someone bigger than you... you couldn’t do anything, huh?”

“I could try to get away..” and it comes out as more of a question.

His hand travels down your throat to lightly grip your neck.

“What if they were faster?”

You whimper and it takes a moment for him to realize that it’s not from pain. He’s used to being a little too rough, so he checks his grip. You liked this. His hand around your throat, panting at it even though he didn’t apply enough pressure to leave you breathless.

“I - could scream”

“Ah…”

His hand pulls the blanket down, giving you a sharp stare when you try to cover yourself up again. With the object out of the way he can finally see them. Pert nipples and plump skin, they look like they’d be heavy in his hand and with a grunt he confirms his suspicions. he shifts his weight and frees up his other hand, you mewl as he cups both of them. Squeezing them softly he asks you “What if you couldn’t scream?”

Your mind is fried. Torn between being uncomfortable with your best friend softly palming your breasts, okay with it because he was only teaching you a lesson, and shamefully turned on at the warm pressure of his hands on you.

“I....I..” you squeal as his pinches your nipples, eyes narrowing as he rolls them between his fingers.

“Stop moving... I’m trying to teach you something here.”

Like a good girl, you try to still yourself. You look unsure, as if you don’t know what to do, how to feel. When his hand travels to play with the waistband of your panties you finally collect yourself enough to wrap a hand around his wrist.

“No... wait!” You’re wet, embarrassingly so, to the point you can feel it sticking your panties to you. If he went any lower... if he saw it..

“Let go” it comes out as a growl, actual anger making its way into his face. And you do, because he’s already mad at you and now you were just making it worse.

His hand cups you through the fabric, eyebrows raising at the wetness dampening the cloth there. Shame fills your face and you can’t stand to look at him. It’s not that you were trying to stop him. Seeing the look in your eyes he can tell you’re embarrassed by it. This was what you were trying to hide? He scoffs and pushes the scrap of fabric to the side. Wants to warm you up, play with your clit until you’re a mess underneath him, but once he feels just how wet you are, he abandons that plan. Instead he opts to shove two fingers as deep into your pussy as they can go. Moaning, your back arches as he starts to curl his digits up into that little slice of heaven inside you.

“What if someone got their fingers in you like I did? What if they weren’t your friend and you didn’t want it?” He’s growling lowly as he nuzzles against your neck, teeth nipping at the soft skin as he sucks bruises.

“Nobu!”

You try to wriggle away from his mouth ravaging you, moving down to your breast and grazing his teeth against your nipple.

“Nobu…Nobu...” his name becomes a mantra on your lips as you grab a fistful of his hair. A thumb roughly circles your clit and the pressure continues to build. A few more minutes, a few more curls of his fingers and you’re close... so close your muscles start to tighten, whimpers getting lost in the open air as they escape your throat.

Before you can, though, he pulls back. Pushes you onto your belly, hands pulling hips up until you’re in the position he wants. Gently rubs circles into the small of your back and before you can even understand what’s going on, his cock is filling you up from behind.

“Fuck” he grits out. You’re still mumbling his name strewn along with quiet little whimpers. “Someone could’ve fucked you like this” he bends down to your ear as his hips slam into yours.

“Taken you like a bitch in heat.”

His hand squeezes tight to your throat and it makes apologies fall from your mouth. So tight he loses himself in the feel of it. Slows his hips down until all he’s doing is grinding up into you. Closes his eyes as his teeth clamp around your shoulder. So much wasted time waiting when it only would’ve taken him one night and a few bottles. He rocks into you quick, loving the sharp cry of his name you let out, followed by apologies.

“Stop sayin you’re sorry” he grits out, feeling the way you tighten around him at the sound of his voice.

“Just tell me.... would you want someone else doin this you?”

You yelp as his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hip, not so subtly pushing you back and forth on his cock.

“No!” Your voice cracks when his hips make contact with yours again.

He smiles “But it’s okay because I’m your friend, right?”

You nod fervently, heat building up in your core at an alarming rate.

“Wanted my cock in you…” you keep nodding, incoherently agreeing to whatever he has to say as he pinches your nipple.

Such a good girl, so submissive already. His other hand pushes against the small of your back, deepening the arch until your face is smushed against the pillows.

He keeps hitting your cervix, the tip of his cock forcefully bumping into it with every movement. Already knows how sore you’re going to be tomorrow, but that’s what he wants. Wants your legs to feel like jelly, thighs sore and cunt aching from being filled so well. Wants to hear you beg as he tries to soothe the ache with his tongue.

The bed muffles the screams as you cum around him, arms shooting back to desperately shove him off. It’s no use, hands grab your arms and he uses them as leverage to fuck you through it. When he’s satisfied, he wraps one arm around your stomach as the other settles at the hollow of your throat. Fucks up into you as he peppers kisses to the side of your face.

“So good for me” And the praise makes a sweet little cry escape from you. So pretty, and all his. The realization makes his thrusts more urgent. A few more jerky movements and he stills himself deep inside, slightly lifting you off the bed as he forgets to be gentle. He doesn’t want to, but fuck if he can control himself, he cums inside with a shaky moan. He rests there for a beat, enjoying the warmth around him, before he pulls out.

Nobu sets you down, laughing softly as your legs give out underneath you. “You learn your lesson sweetheart?”

#nobunaga #nobunaga hxh #reader x nobunaga #yandere nobunaga

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im-the-king-of-the-ocean · 4 years

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I was going to save this until tomorrow morning, but then I remembered I have stuff to do in the morning and I’ll be traveling again, soooo gonna finally get this fic officially rolling tonight.

*Originally I was going to call this fic ‘The Romancing of Ruby Rose,’ but I didn’t really like how it just focused on Ruby when it’s a Bright Eyes OT3 fic, so I decided to make a last minute change.

*this fic is based off a set of three asks sent to me by @misstrashchan, the first being:

Oscar's learnt how to pick up on Ruby's emotions better than most in a short time. So he doesn't fail to notice how hard Ruby- and it appears Penny as well- are crushing on one another. He tries to encourage Ruby to ask Penny on a date, but for some reason, they keep bringing him along.

and now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for!

How to Grow a Romance in 3 Easy Steps

Step 1: Planting Rose Seeds in the Garden

I fell in love with her the moment I saw her silver eyes.

A shiver runs up Oscar’s spine. He stares at the last line of the story, as if the intensity of his gaze will make it change to something else entirely. His stomach twists uncomfortably into knots. Oscar can imagine, far too easily, what it feels like to fall in love with a silver-eyed person. The way one’s heart skips a beat. The rush of heady emotions.

He’d chosen to read this book of fairytales to forget about his problems for an hour or two (and maybe find a deeper understanding of Ozpin along the way, since it was Oz who collected the stories for the book once upon a time). Not to be reminded of his woes.

Oscar sighs. He closes the book with a light thump, tosses it to the side, lies on his back, and stares at the ceiling. When they were first getting settled, Jaune had given him the choice of top or bottom bunk in their Atlas dorm room. Oscar chose the top. It gave him a little more privacy, distance, from his teammates. Oscar likes Jaune, Nora, and Ren, they’ve become his friends, but they can be a bit much at times too.

There are times, like now, where Oscar enjoys being able to think without being asked what he’s thinking about. He’s not quite sure how that conversation would go, and he’s not eager to find out. There are far more important things they need to focus on than something as insignificant as a puppyish crush. He never even considered romance an option before leaving his aunt’s farm. He shouldn’t now.

Because, because it doesn’t matter how he feels about Ruby. Not in the slightest. Ruby doesn’t feel the same way about him. He doesn’t make her heart race. She doesn’t smile softly, tenderly at him. Not like she does at…

Oscar rolls over and groans into his pillow. It would be much easier to endure if it were literally anyone else who managed to gain Ruby’s affection. Literally. Anyone. Else. ANYONE.

Other than Penny Polendina.

Oscar hadn’t known her before, at Beacon, like everyone else had. After talking to them, he found out Jaune, Nora, and Ren hadn’t known Penny too well either back then. She’d been closer to Team RWBY, and especially Ruby. Oscar had wondered, after witnessing how Penny and Ruby just looked at each other, if there’d been something more between them back at Beacon. He’d asked. His three teammates looked between themselves and admitted they didn’t actually know.

Although JNPR and RWBY were close in their academy days, some things still didn’t leave their respective teams, Jaune explained. It wasn’t until after the Fall that they’d learned that Ruby had known Penny’s true nature for quite some time before the tragedy in the arena, for instance. They kept their own secrets too. Ren and Nora had revealed their past to Jaune, and their late teammate, Pyrrha, but not to RWBY.

(Pyrrha Nikos, for the record, remains an entirely separate topic Oscar isn’t sure how to think about. He knows none of his friends consider him her replacement on Team JNPR. Even though his name technically has a ‘P’ in it and Ironwood was more than willing to register him as the new fourth member of JNPR in Atlas’s databases, they’d instead insisted on calling themselves ORNJ. It causes some confusion since Jaune is still the team leader, but, for them, it works. Both to represent who they are now and keep the memory of who they were then in tact.)

Back to the point, if there were anyone (outside of Ruby), to choose to have a crush on, Oscar completely understands why Penny would be that choice. She’s like no one else he’s ever met, and not just because of the robot thing. Okay, yeah, the fact she can fly is pretty cool. But, more than that, she’s sweet. She’s one of the most kind-hearted souls he’s ever met.

Most importantly, Penny doesn’t see Oscar as just the boy who’d tagged along with her actual friends because their old headmaster had taken up residence in his head. She sees him as a potential new friend in his own right. She’s gone out of her way to make him feel welcome in Atlas. She didn’t really have to do that. Especially not when she’s so busy herself being Protector of an entire city.

It makes it impossible to dislike her. And really, it’s flat out unfair to dislike someone just because the person you happen to have a crush on has a crush on them anyway.

A part of Oscar wishes he did dislike Penny. That part of him is convinced that, if he were just to channel all his heartbreak over not being the one to catch Ruby’s eye into negative emotions for her, it would be easier to cope. Every other part of him knows it wouldn’t be. Not truly. Not in any way that counts.

Oscar’s scroll vibrates. He sighs to himself, but reaches over to pick it up to read whatever message has been sent to him.

Text from Ruby Rose:

Hey Oscar, later me and Penny are gonna to go to that arcade that you told me FNKI told you to check out, wanna come?

Oscar stares at the text as one minute passes by, then another, and a third after that. Yes, he’d told Ruby about the arcade. Team FNKI had told his team about it after one of their training bouts. It was apparently one of FNKI’s favorite places to unwind and destress. He’d told Ruby about it because he knew how much she enjoyed video games.

(He figured it could probably be a great place for some kind of first date between her and Penny, as well. At least, that’s where Oscar would have taken Ruby if he’d ever been able to ask her out.)

(Look, if Oscar is never going to get his chance to admit his true feelings, the least the two of them could do is just go out with each other already. Ruby and Penny really have no subtlety whatsoever in masking their emotions and he wants them, both of them, to be happy.)

Oscar had even encouraged Ruby that maybe Penny would enjoy going to to the arcade with her, as gentle nudge in the right direction, when he told her about it. She’d been receptive to the idea. Oscar had been happy to see Ruby so excited (sure he couldn’t be her, or Penny’s, happiness, but he could bring them together so they could be that for each other).

But now they want him to come with them. And third wheel their date.

Unless they don’t consider it a date? Which, okay sure, knowing them, they probably don’t. But still.

For the first time in his life, Oscar wishes he’d paid just the slightest bit more attention to his aunt’s gossip on the going-ons of the closest town to their farm. None of it was particularly interesting, but a lot of it did seem to revolve around who should be in a relationship with who. Maybe some random tidbit from back then may have now proven helpful in figuring out this current situation of his.

A quiet voice in Oscar’s mind (one that’s definitely his own and not Ozpin) reminds him its not his job to play matchmaker between his friends.

(Though, he does need to direct his restless crush emotions somewhere and ensuring Ruby and Penny’s future happiness seems a good a place as any.)

Oscar grumbles to himself. He’s about to type out a reply saying, no, he’ll be busy, he can’t come. Sure, he would like to, because he does enjoy spending time with them, but he’s not certain he should.

He gets another message before he can send his out.

Text from Penny Polendina:

Ruby said she already invited you to the arcade, but I just wanted to say I’d be excited if you come too! More friends = more fun!!!

Oscar knows he can still say ‘no’. He doesn’t have to go just because Penny has now asked him too. But she’s his friend, and he cares about her (a lot), and she gets so little time off to spend with friends, any friends, including him. If she and Ruby aren’t seeing this outing as a date anyway? Well, then he can just let that be something he figures out how to push them toward later.

After taking a deep breath, Oscar messages back asking after details, like when exactly in the day they were planning on going.

#rwby #bright eyes ot3 #oscar pine #ruby rose #penny polendina #whirls writing #how to grow a romance in 3 easy steps #is a mouthful of a title #but one i think fits better #also each chapter is titled after each of the ships that make up the ot3

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naturepointstheway · 3 years

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“Drawn to the Stars” (Outer Wilds)

Will you look at that, finally writing fanfiction for Outer Wilds! In this, a very young Hatchling, born not long ago, finds themselves drawn to the stars and meets a Hearthian who also has a great passion for the great universe beyond Timber Hearth. One day I might come back and refine it some more to put it on AO3 in the future.

From the first moment they could see the sky and grass and trees and not have it be a blur of colour as their eyes learned to see for the first time, the Hatchling was immediately drawn to the curious twinkling stars and the bright burning sun and the eclipsing, rotating, looming planets and the Attlerock. The first night they saw the stars in their glory for the first time in their very small life, they lay back on cool Hearthian grass and just stared skyward until their eyes drooped closed, losing the battle against encroaching sleep.

From the very first night their eyes could see the stars in each of their individual twinkling glories, the Hatchling (who had yet to be bestowed a name, unless they found one for themselves first), they played with the characters of the stars, finding all manners of shapes and objects among them. They pretended one was a little fish swimming close to its parent, and watched it grow until it became a bright constellation, one with several bright stars. Though, one night, they couldn’t help but notice one had dimmed and then went away forever for some reason. Maybe that star would come back, maybe it hid itself because it was shy. Could stars be shy?

Among those beautiful twinkling stars, they imagined an eye, round and bright yellow like their own. On the horizon, one late night, they connected a group of stars together so that it seemed to form the image of a scroll, spiraling in on itself like some strange, alien writing script. Another time, they sketched a space-faring ship among the stars, and dreamed of flying between and around and through every strange big round planet they could see. Maybe they might even be the first to land on one of those big round planets--imagine that! What wonders, what sights, what curiosities they might find!

Oh! How muched they burned with the dream that they could get up closer, so much closer to the stars and planets, that they might even be able to touch them with their own feet or hands! It was a little ache at first, tiny like a seed planted in their heart, but it was one that grew every day and night until they imagined they might be consumed entirely by that desire and wish to fly among the stars and worlds and moons waiting for them to discover and explore.

One night, though, after having sneaked out and walked well out of the village bounds to stare up at the stars again, they discovered an odd apparatus left alone in the vast plain of grass and sky. It was a cylindrical thing on a wooden stand, and it was staring up at the night sky too, as though just as drawn and awestruck by the universe as the Hatchling.

No one was around to stop them, so why not go find out what in the world it could be--was it some kind of tool? Did it belong to someone in their village? Why was it here all alone? Did nobody else want it? Well then, maybe the Hatchling could have it, if it was useful to them at all!

Letting their own insatiable curiosity lead the way, the Hatchling scurried to the object, examining it closely, running their fingers over the cool outside--it seemed to be made of some metal--and twiddling the knobs with their other hand, but they weren’t sure what effect the twisting and turning was supposed to have (as far as they could tell, nothing). When they grew bored of the knobs, they walked around to stick their little head into the larger opening, only their small ears sticking out of the rim. The world on the other side looked very small and blurry and upside-down. They wondered, what use could anyone get out of that?

Maybe...maybe they were supposed to look in the other end? Maybe that was right, and what they were doing was the wrong way!

With this thought in mind, the Hatchling pulled their head out of the large opening and turned around only to stumble as they saw someone else was already there. That “someone” was short and stubby, not much taller than the Hatchling themselves, their arms folded, ears high as they watched the Hatchling.

“Are you quite done yet?”

The Hatchling’s excited grin faded in the face of their new companion’s less-than-pleased, and very huffy, tone of voice.

“Uh--sorry--yeah?”

“Hatchling, let it be known this is my property, and that means do not touch, you hear?”

Yes, this short Hearthian was clearly not happy for their company, let alone playing with whatever that was.

“I thought it belonged to no one.”

“Well, it does belong to someone--specifically, me--and it’s not a toy you can play with.”

“Then why did you leave it so anyone could play with it?”

The other Hearthian raised a finger to massage a temple.

“Just because it was left out here doesn’t mean finder’s keepers. And it’s called a telescope, and it’s a very delicate instrument!”

“What does a...telescope thing do? Why was it looking at the stars?”

The other Hearthian dropped their hand back to their side with a sigh.

“Because that’s what it’s for. What did you think?”

The Hatchling did not respond--every one of their thoughts captivated by this new knowledge: this telescope was for looking at the stars?! Then why couldn’t they see them? Why could they only see grass? Maybe....

“I think it’s broken, um...”

Another sigh, but much less annoyed-sounding now. “Chert. And it’s not broken--at least last time I left it before I found you here.”

“Um...I played with the knobs a little? And I can only see grass looking inside, not stars. And I wanna see the stars! Really bad! I want to see what they look like up close! And--and I want to see them so bad. And the planets. Can I? I mean, you don’t seem to like me much and that’s probably because I broke it--”

The Hearthian raised a hand to stop the Hatchling in their babbling tracks, the latter falling quiet--they had to stop to catch their breath anyway after so much talking at once.

“Calm down, Hatchling. One: you were looking in the wrong end, and that’s why you saw the grass and not the stars.”

Turned out the Hatchling’s guess was right after all.

“Okay! I was starting to think that too anyway.”

“Two: it’s not too much trouble to recalibrate everything. A damn nuisance after you played with them, but no matter. I have all night.”

“Oh. Did I ruin everything?”

“Yes, but it’s fixable. A fixable nuisance. And three: I don’t dislike you because you’re a child that saw something and thought it was a toy and wanted to play with it. Because that’s what children do.”

“Oh! Okay! So...can I look at the stars? I mean, can you show me how to look at the stars?”

“Use your eyes, you have four of them.”

The Hatchling rolled their eyes. “Yeah, duh, that’s what I do every night. But what about...” the Hatchling gestured at the telescope.

“I’m very busy tonight, but I can spare some time. A little time.”

“Oh! Now? Will you? Show me how?”

“Well, I might as well, since you’re obviously going to keep badgering me until I do, won’t you?”

“Yeah.”

The Hatchling may have been imagining things, but they were sure they saw the hint of a grin from Chert, the friendly expression softening their words.

“Let’s get started, then,” Chert crooked a finger at the Hatchling. “Get over here, Hatchling, let me show you the stars, once I re-calibrate my telescope.”

“Ooh!” the Hatchling bounded closer to Chert as the latter peeked into the telescope and fiddled with the knobs, turning them this way and that with much more care and finesse than the younger Hearthian had.

“Oh wow, you really are very short!” the Hatchling blurted as they stood next to Chert, barely able to wait to stare at the stars through the telescope.

Chert lifted their head and looked pointedly at the Hatchling. “And I would ask that you not remind me.”

“But--”

“No.”

How did adults do that, finish a conversation just like that with all of one word? Chert was already looking through the telescope again, giving a knob one final little tweak before looking back up at the Hatchling with a smile.

“Okay, it’s all set, but a warning first.”

“Um, yeah?”

“Don’t expect to see everything in full detail like you would our sun.”

“Why?”

“They’re very, very, very far away and even this powerful piece will have them show up no more than pinpoints of light. But. You can see some are double stars or even triple systems.”

“You mean like there’s more than one star?”

“You can see galaxies too if you know where to look.”

“Whoa! Uh, what’s a galaxy?”

“It’s a big collection of stars. If I can find one, I’ll show you what they look like. Or, there’s the observatory in the village. I think Hornfels has their image of a group of galaxies in there.”

“Really?”

“You can always go visit the observatory and ask them. They’re always at the observatory. I’m almost convinced they live there too. Give me another moment.”

After giving their telescope one last check, Chert moved aside and motioned for the Hatchling to take a look through it.

“Found a little beautiful collection of stars for you to look at. Take a peek!”

“Really?!”

The Hatchling’s excitement so great they were shaking from it, they sidled up to the telescope, leaning over to take a peek through the eyepiece, their eye wide and round as if to try to take in as much of the starlight waiting for them beyond as they possible could.

And...oh.

What a sight!

The Hatchling cried out in delight, awestruck beyond anything they could have imagined as five twinkling stars shining brilliant blue and orange and white, winked right back at the little Hearthian.

Whoa.

Time fell away like the ground beneath their feet as they stared into the heart of the star cluster, wanting to stay like this forever, just still as a tree undisturbed by a storm, and as quiet as the last faint light of sunset disappearing over the valley borders. Everything collapsed to nothing but this handful of stars floating in a lonely patch of sky.

I’m going there. I will.

The Hatchling, after what felt like forever, finally lifted their eye from the eyepiece and stared up, unblinking, at the splash of stars wheeling far over Timber Hearth. Some distant surprise hit them that Chert hadn’t said a word yet, and, wondering if they had left after all, looked to their side, only to find the other Hearthian was still standing nearby, a knowing smile and look in their eyes.

“Beautiful, huh?”

Yes seemed too small, too weak, too pathetic an answer, and so the Hatchling nodded instead, unable to find the words they wanted that would be poetic enough to even touch upon what seemed to them a transformative experience.

When words that seemed full enough to voice finally filled their thoughts, the Hatchling remarked:

“I’m going to go visit the stars. And the planets. And the moons. I’m going up.”

Chert patted the Hatchling’s arm, squeezing briefly, their voice gentle.

“I know you will, Hatchling. You will. I can tell.”

“Imagine all the stories I could bring back!” the Hatchling’s excitement sparked in them, warm and filling like a marshmallow toasted just right. “I want to bring back stories of adventures from other planets and maybe even the stars!”

“They’re very far to travel to, but yes, you want stories, you’re in luck.”

“What?”

“Other Hearthians have been up there too. Maybe not the stars, but certainly within our solar system.”

“Really?”

“I think I’m going to have to introduce you to Feldspar tomorrow, Hatchling. I can tell you, they have lots of stories to share.”

The Hatchling could hardly wait.

#Outer Wilds #fanfiction #and yes it's Chert they meet!#Chert's one of my favourite travellers #they need more love <3

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dearmrsawyer · 4 years

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well IT WAS A YEAR. it was also emotionally two weeks and five years? lol. its been a lot, but there were some real positives from this year that i wanna reflect on just because! they’re nice to think about!!

i’d love to know if any of you have any positive things from your year that you’d like to reflect on. accepting asks where we can celebrate your little wins too :)

in general i’m just quite proud of myself for how i’ve managed the library this year, given that its just me. its been hard feeling more disconnected from our students, and also trying to provide them with support that can reach across the void created by distance learning. it wasn’t 100% successful all the time! but it can’t be, and i never aimed for that. i just did everything that i felt i could reasonably do as a single individual, and i think i did my best! i spent a lot of this year driving out to post books to our students, or meeting them at convenient locations to do book swaps, and i’ve spent a lot of time coaching academics through online systems over zoom so that they could effectively teach their subjects, and i’ve spent a lot of nights and weekends prepping materials that needed to be made available to students ahead of class, because our academic staff weren’t able to finish them while i was still on the clock (i’m def not trying to @ our academics here! they’ve been delivering material late all year bc of how much extra work they’ve had to take on too! its just the roll on effect bc i’m the last link in the chain). i’ve felt a huge sense of camaraderie with many of my colleagues this year, and am grateful i had them to make this work year more manageable. but i know i’ve been doing a lot of hidden work and i think i did well :)

oh man i loved turning off my wake up alarm in march and never turning it on again!!!! I think i can count the number of times i’ve had to use my alarm on one hand, and they were mostly dr appointments. it feels so comfortable to wake up when my body decides, whether its 6am or after i should already be working LOL. there have definitely been ebbs and flows to how well i’ve slept throughout the year, sometimes i know exactly what’s affecting my sleep and sometimes i have no idea, but regardless, the absence of an impending alarm has been such a nice way to compensate for.. everything else lol

i started growing vegetables!!!!!! I spent a week in March digging out a patch of my yard, and then the next month or two growing seedlings, and i successfully grew snow peas, silverbeet, beetroot and lettuce :D i also added dill to my herb garden, and successfully propagated thyme and lemongrass! i did attempt a few other vegetables that didn’t pan out, mostly because snails kept eating my seedlings jkjdgkj but it was so exciting to successfully grow something that i could then EAT! and i’ve also been able to figure out which vegetables i consider more convenient to grow, for example buying leafy greens can be super inconvenient bc i find its often impossible to use them all before they go bad. they sell greens in such ridiculously large bunches! but growing them myself, i can go out and pick however many leaves i want, and the rest won’t go bad because they’re still on the plant! i also started to stagger how many seeds i wanted to grow which meant they weren’t all maturing at the same time, and i didn’t need to use them all at the same time.

Supernatural finished this year which was NOT a highlight 😭 but it was originally scheduled to finish in May, and i was given the gift of 6 whole extra months to live with this show as a work in progress. as much as i still wasn’t ready to say goodbye in November (would i have ever been ready), i was given so much unexpected extra time to appreciate being IN it while it was still going. i spent so much of this year reflecting on how big a part of my life this show has been, and how much its given me and shaped me. from the ages of 14 to 29 i was able to live with this show as a close friend, and i’ve never taken that for granted, but i am so thankful for the extra time i was given to reflect and appreciate it even more deeply. also supplementary highlight is how much that ending meant to me <3 the world can think whatever it wants but i was on that journey for 15 years, i was there for every episode, never falling behind or taking a break, and that ending honoured the story i watched, and i am very grateful that the pain of it ending was cushioned by the sense of peace and fulfilment that ending gave me.

i finally found hair products that WORK!!!!! i’ve had the same hair routine for like a decade (basically sans products) and i thought i should use this extended period of time where i exist unobserved to experiment. i’ve never really bought hair products for myself, i’ve always inherited them from my mum bc she always had a surplus of products she’s collected over the years. our hair couldn’t be more different so i’ve never experienced a product that was particularly effective LOL. i have v dry hair that’s naturally curly/wavy but extremely frizzy, and i have soo much of it!! so many hairs on my head! my mission was to find a way to let it dry naturally without all that frizz popping up, and without having to dry it in two big twists. the only products directed at curly hair that i’ve ever been aware of is mousse, which used to give people that crunchy look that i can’t staaaaaand but i’ve spent a few months buying quite a lot of products and testing them out one after another, and i’ve found a couple that i absolutely LOVE!! this is big for me bc i always structured my week around when i wash my hair (the day of and day after i’m unavailable lol). i’ll still have to structure my time around it somewhat bc it takes so so long to dry, but its going to be less of a drama if i have to do things when its not completely dry yet, and also i just feel like i’m finally getting to let my hair do its own thing without it stabbing me in the back 😂

i think that human connection has probably been more important this year than ever before, and i’ve often felt like maintaining connections requires energy i just haven’t had for a lot of this year. but i also feel like i have been very connected? i feel like i put in the work. my best friend and i shared a few phone calls this year even though neither of us have ever really been big on phone calls (neither of us have ever talked with people on the phone much in our lives lol). i’ve skyped with my Norwegian friend Ellen almost every month this year!! my friend Bel and i started exchanging sporadic voice messages again, which i’ve just loved. i’ve video chatted with Steph even though it was a scary new venture! and it was so amazing! i do feel like i’ve had less interaction with people on my dash this year, but i feel like working from home has changed the ebbs and flows of my energy throughout the day sooo much, and i just haven’t been online as much when other people are, but i’ve spent a lot of time connecting with people over whatsapp! when it comes to family, being around my grandparents was really really stressful for the first half of the year, but as the situation in Australia eased we relaxed enough that we were comfortable to spend time with them without our masks (plus we weren’t seeing anyone else lol). and i was able to make myself available to them more often while working from home, since i live only a minute away! we stopped having our big family lunches until September, and when we were finally able to get back together we enjoyed each other’s company so much. so while i haven’t been face to face with people on a daily basis, i don’t think i’m any less connected to the people that matter than i was a year ago.

#not thinking about next year yet! i'll probably do that in a few weeks towards the end of my holiday #tp

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balkanradfem · 4 years

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So I've talked before about my burning desire to go and build a separatist tribe of women in nature, preferably in forest next to a mountain or somewhere far out so that nobody would bother us. I've been keeping on building that dream in my head, but also in many practical ways, trying to prepare myself for it. This tribe would have to function out of capitalism, off grid, without the use of money or even electricity, unless one day I figure out how to produce some. So we use only technology that is not harmful to nature and produce everything we need to survive.

It sounds so surreal, but it's not a particularly wild idea, because humans have been doing this for millenia and lived, I presume, with way less of their population depressed and suicidal. It wasn't more than 80 years ago humans lived without electrity or modern commodities, my 85yo neighbour can still remember bathing in collected rainwater and washing the clothes in the river. (Don't worry, we wont have to wash the clothes in the river, I found a way.)

So what I'm proposing is in fact, far more reasonable, climate conscious and healthy than living in capitalism, only problem is: It's less convenient.

We're to assume it's convenience that brings us comfort and happiness, but I'm about to propose a counter-argument: It's not. It's boring and makes everything very impersonal and unsatisfactory. I can tell, but only because I've been shifting into that inconvenient, more-effort-put into survival kind of life. And, it's been a very fun, weird time.

So as you can see by my posts, I've been learning to grow food and to make meals from self-grown food only, and eating feels different. It's far from impersonal when you bring a handful of seeds into life, then harvest and store and eat that; you know where this food has been. You know the food's story and it's been interlaced with your own story to the point where it's no longer something you consume, you have memories with that food. It means something to you. And, it's way, WAY harder to throw it away. You do not waste what you build up from scratch.

I've also been venturing into other self-sustaining missions, like, cleaning products and preserving resources as you would in nature, figuring out hygiene without capitalism, and this is where my life got weird. If I wanna wash my hair, I go and make tea, then wash my hair in that. Funny snippet, lemon balm tea actually darkens your hair the more you use it, people in my life now legit think my hair is black, it's not! It's brown but the herb made it so dark nobody can tell. I've since found out there are also herbs that make your hair lighter, or even give it a blue-ish glow! That is way fun. Washing hair like this is a more effort than shampoo, but I feel different about it. Proud I did that, or just happy I never have to buy a shampoo maybe.

If I wanna do laundry I'll go and cut open some conkers, since I still have a bag of unprocessed ones and they work as a detergent. If I wanna clean something I use vinegar I infused with orange peel, it smells amazing. If I need to go to the bathroom I'll skip on toilet paper and use family cloth. Now what is that? I actually heard someone on youtube say that word and researched it and found out that before toilet paper, people used rectangular strips of white cloth, to clean themselves, and they were all washed so it was reusable and wasted no resources since you could cut any old cotton shirt into strips and use it. Now a lot of people react with 'ewww' but hear me out: you don't use it for number two unless you have a washing liquid to immediately throw it into (I don't), and, do you throw away any underwear that you've used just once? They get about as filthy as that and then you put them thru boil cycle in the washing machine, they take so little space inside it's forgettable, and you can use them forever. I actually only had to buy toilet paper once, this entire year. 10/10. Also, extremely comfy and soft to use. If anyone wondered.

I also cook my food in weird ways, mostly having it wrapped in towels instead on a stove top, I rarely heat any bathroom water and either use cold or I also discovered I love heating a pot of water and just spilling it over myself instead of showering, it feels so good! It's so gentle and pleasant, showers are agressive and mean in comparison, it's like they hate you and are trying to spray you away. Water gently spilling from a pot on your body loves you and wants you to be happy and experience pleasure and love.

So I'm not trying to brag too much here but I haven't visited a grocery store in two months (figured out how to buy flour directly from the company lol) and maybe visited them 7 times this year altogether, isn't that kinda wild? And yes I'm giving myself a little star for good pandemic behaviour. I earned that. I just seem to not need stuff anymore unless they're oil and flour and maybe some salt and sugar. And it wasn't ... that hard. I mean okay, poverty and general anxiety are fueling my behaviour for sure, but it feels very much like... it's not that impossible to do without stuff, if you're crazy stubborn and don't have many alternatives.

I've also been prepairing for this life in a savage hermit hoarder type of matter; I've collected jars obsessively, stored every little produce net or bag that anyone brought to my place, I collect dumb promotional newspapers to start fires with in the future, and I can make baskets out of it, I stored every plastic cup or container ever because I can grow seedlings in those, I collected all seeds in any way available to me, I don't throw away any fabric anymore bc I can sew new things, any soft and spongy textured thing is stored to make seating space on future chairs and cushions, and I value every bit of knowledge coming my way only in regard to how it could help me survive.

I haven't figured out the medicinal side of this, or the social aspect, but at this point it feels very wrong for me to be in a city, renting out an apartment, and then living half like a little savage on the side and refusing to go to the store. I should be in my little cob house dammit, and cooking in my cauldron on top of a fire. I should be bathing in rainwater and have plants on every surface of my home. I should have soil available to grow all my food. And optimally have a big swing and a tree house and an obstacle course in the forest. I wanna drink water that I discovered in a spring or collected from rain and filtered with the coal I made. I wanna know how earthen floors feel under my bare feet.

So anyways, how many of you'd wanna join a tribe where we live in cob houses and tell stories around a fire and change our hair color with tea and presumably spill water over each other because hygiene is important? Also we never shave or care abt how our faces look and we shed the light onto downfall of capitalsm because I feel like, if we all (the population) just bought flour, oil sugar and salt, a lot of things would go down super fast.

#separatism #female separatism #prepairing for separatism #self sustaining life #eco friendly #sustainable living #anti capitalism

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weirdo-with-a-nametag · 3 years

Text

Brain is tv static with random frames interspersed

Think I'm like. Really stressed and jumping between topics to try and find something that helps / feels good

Topics:

Anyone know a good health tracking app for adhd people? I want one that like pops up when you open your phone, maybe? But is unobtrusive. Like maybe you just rate your mood or whatever when you open your phone, and it closes, and you go about your business. I just hate every app and paper method I've tried but really want to track some stuff

Pigeon. ? Pigeon as pet?

Service animals re: cats, pigeons, my cat specifically, and then also ESAs and also what to use as treats while training my cat (he's pretty happy to learn behaviors with praise and pets as reinforcement, but treats would make everything move much faster, but I haven't found something I want to give him so we've just been y'know. Chillin)

Service animals re: what tasks can my pet potentially do that would help me? I don't really know a lot about service animals and there is a Huge range. If anyone has suggestions, or places to read about it, I'd appreciate it! Mostly thinking they may help with anxiety, sensory, and mobility/fatigue related stuff. Not much of a need for medical alerts.

Bioactive enclosures for my snakes, need to research their biomes and make progress on designs and equipment specifications

Also. Hit a seriously hard patch and haven't been handling them much at all this month so that's not great

Casting stuff. Saw jewelry today made of metal casts of claws, skulls, etc, and they were really well done and made me want to do that

Some taxidermy / vulture culture stuff I won't get into right now

Puzzles????

How to organize my room

Need a shower

Need to organize bathroom

So Much Schoolwork

Uhhhhh trying, but not making much headway, to figure out how I want to do my music collection. Also really need to clean my records..

Make?

Food??? Ew.

Dental hygiene ://

Plampts. So many. Houseplants need maintenance, many need repotting. Keep taking in people's problem plants and like, they're doing better, largely, after being trimmed and watered and whatnot, but need repotting. Also need to trim some aquarium plants.

Also need to put water in tanks. And spray nepenthes.

Laundry.

Gotta pick up trash in my room. There's so much. Everywhere. Why.

Schoolwork. I'm so behind. So, so stuck. Kind of feel like I'm dying.

Going on a picnic tomorrow. Have to figure out what still needs doing for that, probably need to go to the store.

Leo needs water. I'm so....ugh, I'm trying so hard, but it feels impossible. I do my best to take good care of my pets, and I think they live pretty good lives most of the time, but sometimes I get like This and completely drop off the face of the earth and then like, wake up or whatever and two weeks have passed by and I have not cleaned a water bowl! That's a serious problem!!!! I do not know how to combat that, really, besides more reminders. Having someone around who is willing to like, help, when things are especially hard, would be great, but I don't live with my partner right now and do not feel like I can ask anyone here for that. But I can't put my animals at risk. I check on them every day, and if their bowls are dirty I do take them out and clean them, but sometimes (like now) i cannot get myself to do it without a pressure like a dirty bowl, or a feeding day. And like, it's really important that they have clean water. I'm talking to myself here but like, if anyone has advice. Please. With the tank redesigns and upgrades, the bowls will be more accessible, which will help because one of them is very heavy at the angle I have to pick it up, and another requires moving a lot of branches and is best to take out while the snake is out (this is Leo) which is fine because I love my boy, but adds time to the process, and makes it harder to start, you know? Maybe if I just got more bowls - I could take the bowl out and immediately replace it, fill the new one, and replace the decor and snake, and then clean the bowl as a separate task? That would be easier for my brain. Currently I have a Specific bowl I prefer to use for each tank, and then everything else is Just In Case, but I mean. Acquiring extras is something I want to do anyway, and it may help with several problems, so. Yeah. I'll try that. But also, any other ideas, guys?

Anxiety: can't stop picking at my face, skin, nails, cuticles, scalp, pretty much everywhere with callouses, also scratched a mole off my face, which is something I've been trying Not to do for a while, so that's...not great. Can't find my earmuffs, and also all of my headphones are painful? Ears are really sensitive lately.

Been playing a lot of Moth Game (flutter: starlight if you wanna be friends say hey I don't know how to do it but would enjoy talking about moths if nothing else. The game is just like, an idle ish collecting game with cutesy versions of different species, and very little actual information, but it's still fun, and if anyone else is on there and also Into Moths like I am, hiiiii) and like it's fun and cute but also greatly impacting my productivity, and raises my stress levels during events, which is most days, so the game has. Not been helping. But I can't stop because then I'll miss Exclusive Moths.

Anyway. Had baklava and two mugs of Thai tea today and the sugar has made me nauseous.

Trying to journal. Hurts to write. Also takes too long. Also my handwriting is very bad. But typing is..not as good

Want to draw. Thinking about drawing cats

Plants again! Want to make seed bombs, have seeds, have most of the other ingredients, just need to put em together, basically.

Really sad :(

Or am I?

Weird noise coming from dining room?

Birds. Spent half an hour at least on the deck tonight listening to a hundred different bird calls (literally) to identify one I was hearing, it was a pine siskin, which I checked early on but the recording was bad and I didn't realize which call was identified. Anyway, cool to put a name to a face, so to speak.

Need to practice for ASL

So much.....to do...

Only had like >3 hours of work this week which was not great because money, but also like I'm really feeling those 3 hours....

My cat is basically refusing to come into my room? Which is very strange and I'm worried something is Off but cannot figure out what. Also means less cuddles which means I'm sad.

It feels strange whenever people follow me, the attention is nice but I have no idea what content y'all are here for. So to everyone: hi, enjoy, hope my random personal posts aren't a surprise to anyone who followed for like. News reblogs and informational stuff.

Do I even have it in me to..be successful in school? Should I drop out of college? I'm struggling really hard and do not feel like I'm building on the skills I need to continue, so like. Uh.

My dad is being. Abrasive.

Mom and grandma are very angry lately

Housemate is also angry, about things i thought we were on good terms about, so I am stressed because like,, are we okay?

Can't find my eye mask :(

Yoga? Like...restorative yoga? Need to track down my PT stuff. And. Do it.

Need to put the stickers on my license plates....oops...

Still haven't found my antidepressants! Yay!

Do I want to store my stuff in open bins, or with lids? Which stuff needs spill protection and stacking capability and which stuff needs easy access?

How to earn money without..chaos

Gotta go to the pet store tomorrow. Have to compile my list of pet store items i need. Uhhhhhhhhhh

Also I have an essay due tomorrow that I've barely started. So. Wooooooo

Kt tape for supporting arches / inner ankles? I keep messing up my ankles, and part of it is walking wrong because I don't have the energy to engage the muscles in my feet/legs right to like, avoid injury, and part of it is I just need new shoes inserts. But i wear slippers a lot and they do not have arch support and it hurts. PT to help with this also but Where Is It

Family can't seem to get dish soap I can use, so I've just been having to avoid washing anything by hand, or being in the general kitchen area while anyone uses the stuff, which has led to more of my dishes sitting out, and more conflict over dishes. Lovely.

How hard is it for parents to learn they have to respect boundaries? Very hard, apparently. And you're supposed to just sort of remind people, and explain, over and over and over but like at this point my self worth is actually pretty good and the lifetime of proof that they do not want to listen? That's making me want to stop trying. Like, if you're not going to respect my boundaries I'm just not going to involve you in my life. I'm not talking to my dad right now because of this. Maybe I'll decide to lay things out to him, again and again and again again, maybe not. And I'm comfortable saying that's on him.

How to drink water

Am I dehydrated or are my hands just completely callous now. My fingertips have such hard skin. Why? It's uncomfortable. This is part of why I've been biting them.

Also testosterone. Been having a lot of trouble doing my shots, because anxiety and physical freakouts, but also not feeling super urgent about it. Which I'm realizing may be a sign i need to look at the effects so far and the possible effects of continuing, and see what they make me feel. It's possible I'm where I want to be as far as T, and don't really want to stay on it. A big thing for me is a deeper voice, so it seems time to take a look at whether I like my voice where it is or want to see if it'll drop any more. Etc etc

Miss my lil sisters

Saw a lot of cool rocks today. Huge (like hand sized) ammonite for $28. May go back and buy one because. Wow.

Want to plant food plants

Also my natives. Whole garden plot standing empty with a bunch of stuff waiting in nursery pots, needing to go in the ground. Because I can't get out of bed. Love that. Stuff is dying out there, I'm dying in here, there's a poetry to it and I do not want to romanticize suffering so I will say this: I brought a Bucket full of moss home a month ago and planted it and now go outside sometimes to drench my moss and it is very rewarding because the stuff is just so green. Incredible. When the rest of my plants are finally in the ground, that feeling will only intensify. But, for now, the moss is very nice.

Made a glow in the dark bead lizard from memory during therapy yesterday, and I love him. Also, still struggling with bringing up autism and psychosis topics with my therapist. Still very worried about. Things. Would like to get a new person? But sometimes she is helpful? And we have a routine. It's very hard to break the routine. Maybe I can set some time aside during the summer, to figure out what to do there.

Term ends in a couple weeks. The task of catching up, of passing, seems impossible. I really need to pass my courses. I'm on academic warning, because my GPA is lower than it should be, and if I can pass all of my classes this term I can get off academic warning but otherwise I'm not sure what will happen to my financial aid.

My phone is playing the same 50-100 songs on shuffle and I don't even particularly like most of them and it is very strange

Got my face wipes! Hooray, i can wash my face again

Been eating too much sugar in general. It's making my joints hurt more, and the nausea

Pet a dog the other day. I miss that. It would be really nice to have a dog in the house again. The exuberance, the cuddles, the tail wagging, the walks... I'd really like that. Maybe once I'm out in my room, tanks and catio built and everyone is situated, I'll look into getting a dog instead of a cat next. Was planning on holding off in case I'm not physically able to take them out on walks and such, but I've been pretty successful at doing this job, and I think that my main hurdle for walking really is motivation. Dog walking is a strong motivator for me. Best to start by fostering, or just do Wag, for a while though. I'm feeling overwhelmed with my current responsibilities, and here I am talking about getting a dog. Good job, me

How do you get wax off of somewhat water soluble rocks? My housemate broke my lava lamp on some of my rock collection and I am not sure how to get some of them clean without damage.

I am...pretty sure there are collared doves nesting over my room but it seems they're less common around here than I thought? But they are..pretty distinctive. Like if I'm wrong, what are those birds. Some very distinctly colored feral pigeons? Who are nesting here, in a tree, without their flock, and who happen to have pretty much the exact same pattern?

Probably should go to the dollar store and get some bins for organizing

Been wanting to keep a bin by the door and stock it with stim/fidget stuff people can just .have ..like extras of some of my favorites and other things i can get ahold of, to offer to my friends who haven't really had the chance to explore the world of stim toys

Hands are really just not doing great the last several weeks. Arthritis type pain cropping up more and more in all the little joints, making it hurt more to write, type, or just use them for whatever. Coordination isn't great because of that distraction, and because my hands/arms are slow to respond and kinda weak. Most people would say I'm not using them enough but I've been doing 15ish hours of manual labor per week, so maybe it's the other direction? More water would help. If only it wasn't so heavy.

I haven't taken a single shower since I started my job. Which was March 29th. That's not great.

Practiced parallel parking today. 10/10 still very bad at it.

Having anxiety that my friends think I'm lying about things, faking, and are watching me to see if I'll slip up. So that sucks. Can either talk about that directly or indirectly, or just shut up about those things until I can get my brain under control again. I'm not sure right now if the reassurance would work as a reality check or make me believe it more, right now, so might hold off on the talking bit for a little while.

Saw, smelled, picked a couple pretty roses. Good times

At this point I'm just trying to list all my thoughts so that maybe I'll be able to sleep and not worry I'll forget

My mom has put her spider plant on the deck, and it has maybe five living leaves. I have no idea how she killed such a well established spider plant, the last time I saw it it was so happy. Did she stick it in a corner and forget to water it? Whatever happened, it is now in the Plant ER, so hopefully I'll be able to...help get it on the up and up again

Leo is such a pretty noodle. He's so pretty. He's posing. Hi, baby boy.

Oh, he saw me moving around and decided to come say hi. Sorry little man, i did not mean to disturb you. Please resume lounging. I can't bring you out right now, I'm trying to sleep.

Also, terrariums. Water features. Need to ask. Someone. The one who was making that super cool garter snake enclosure and blogging the progress? With the lazy river and pool? About maintenance on that kind of setup. My milk snake really enjoys water, and I'd love to put a water feature in his tank. But I'm unclear on how to keep it clean, or honestly where to start. Don't want any huge falls or anything, though it actually may not make the humidity too high if I did maybe a small drip wall into the pool? That seems like something he would enjoy, and a good way to support different types of plants. But like, that's the thing, it's bioactive and I haven't done that before and no amount of research is ever enough.

Oh, Shogun has a dirt hat. How cute. I love when they do that

See, this is the thing. My snakes make me so happy. All three of them are actually hanging out where I can see them from my bed right now, and it's really nice. I want their lives to be the best possible, and I think I have the resources to do that. Which is so exciting. Now if only my brain and body would cooperate. It would hurt quite a lot to have to re-home any of them, but the most important thing is their health and quality of life, you know? If I can't get my act together somewhat, it may be that one or all of them would be better off with another keeper. I don't know. It's just, i talk about all these tank ideas and all this husbandry standards stuff but how much of it actually gets applied to my own animals whose lives are in my hands? How well am I caring for them, really?

Oh!!! My red thread! I thought that was gone forever.

Anyway, please do not worry. My snakes are healthy. I pay attention, and watch for signs of illness, and they're okay. There will always be places to improve, and the water is a big one, but most of the time i change their water out frequently, I'm just worried because of bad depression and fatigue times, you know? I'm working on making the most self sustaining systems i can, in part so that I am sure they'll be okay if I mess up sometimes. Just saying this because I hope you guys don't feel like you need to worry about the welfare of my pets. They're okay, i just always want better for them, is all.

Anyway, the sun is coming up and I should probably go to sleep. So uh, thanks for reading, if you read all of this randomness, and if anyone has thoughts or advice on anything in this post, i would welcome it! Good night!

#mine #long post #snakes #pets #food m #uhhhhhhhhhhhh whatever else needs tagging

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vampylovesaliens · 3 years

Text

Pariah - p3

-vagabonds

T’chendris-hlau watched, narrowing her pale eyes against the dawning sunlight as she watched the Phantom disappear among the patchy red-tinged clouds. The lingering fume of the ships’ thermal exhaust stung her tongue as she flitted it out briefly to taste the air, making her grumble and shake her head, turning away to go jogging off to where her mother stood, M’tendris’ silhouette statuesque against the brightening horizon as she lingered in meditation. The young Yautja stood silently in her mother’s shadow, waiting to be addressed so as to avoid startling her out of her concentration, though it was a struggle as always. She had questions and childrens’ questions were not easily tempered with patience.

Finally, after what felt like an hour but which really only took a couple more minutes, M’tendris opened her eyes and looked down at her daughter, the child idly tugging at her silvery tresses, not yet long enough to brush her shoulders but getting close. “You are anxious.” She observed mildly, leaning down in order to reach with a hand to gently caress the child’s smooth forehead.

“Why can’t we go with taka?” T’chendris-hlau muttered, hugging against her mother’s leg. “Where does he go?”

“Ah.” M’tendris’ mandibles flexed, a faintly amused but gentle clattering sound in her throat. “He has...work to do. Hunts to go on. It provides us the money we need for our supplies here.”

“Why don’t you go on Hunts with him, tama? You’re mighty!” She looked up, grinning endearingly up at her mother while squeezing against her muscular leg. M’tendris laughed, leaning down to scoop the child up easily and carrying her back toward the hut that sat nearby, quaint and simple, but enough to house them on this small, unassuming world where Yautja were known, but left in peace and given their space, especially when it was just one little family staking a claim to a small and unassuming stretch of land. “I am mighty, my child. But your father and I, we hunt differently. When you are a bit bigger and stronger, you will hunt with me.”

“I wanna hunt nooowww.” T’chendris-hlau complained, and M’tendris rattled at her chidingly. “Don’t whine, child. Hunting is important, whether it be for ritual, for money, or for food. Don’t forget that; it’s not to be taken lightly.”

“Why?” T’chendris-hlau blinked, eyes wide as she regarded her mother’s words with all the intent concentration her young mind could muster, hungry for every lesson she was given whether it was her father teaching her to harness her abilities or her mother teaching her the more ‘normal’ aspects of Yautja life.

M’tendris set the child down on top of a supply crate so she could sit at eye level with the towering adult, rumbling steadily as she gently brushed her claws over her daughter’s short tresses to sort them out smoothly. “Because the Hunt is the core of our people. It is the backbone to who we are, what Paya and the Ancient Ones bred us for. We live by the Hunter’s Code, and we die by it as well.” She leaned forward, gently touching her brow to T’chendris-hlau’s to reassure her as the child fidgeted nervously with that last part.

“Even taka?” She mumbled faintly, blinking again as she met her mother’s eyes, the ghostly-pale green tint of her irises reflecting in the deep fiery orange of her mother’s.

M’tendris chuffed in amusement, her mandibles tapping affectionately against her daughter’s as she leaned back again. “He would argue that he doesn’t. But that is only because he follows the Code differently than most. If you asked him, he would say that Paya and the Ancients have turned their gazes away from him. But he is a silly old man now, my little one.” She chuckled, though as T’chendris-hlau cautiously reached her consciousness out to test the edges of her mother’s mind, she felt a pang of sadness behind her light tone. But she could not investigate further before M’tendris waved a claw dismissively, changing the subject. “You might be able to hunt with me this morning, actually. We will go for the small game, just enough to make our breakfast fresh.”

T’chendris-hlau whooped eagerly as she climbed down, jogging after her mother as she headed for the hut to collect her knife, the ornately-engraved and wickedly jagged edge one that T’chendris-hlau spent a lot of time admiring, though she knew she was never to touch it. “Can I have a knife, tama?”

“Not yet, little one. But soon. You have lessons yet to learn before you can have your own.” M’tendris attached the knife in its sheath to her belt, then waved T’chendris along as they headed away from the little homestead into the fields surrounding them, the meadows beyond filled with thick tufts of grass, the tops beaded with hearty seed pods that made a nice snack, T’chendris-hlau had discovered while playing. Their quarry she knew already; slinky little creatures covered in silky hide, with big digging claws and teeth for grinding down tough roots. They were numerous in these hills, but elusive and shy. T’chendris-hlau often made a game of chasing them, or lying in wait outside their burrows in the hopes of catching one by surprise. They weren’t large, but they were meaty and delicious, a good target for a young Yautja just learning to hunt. So far though she had not been successful.

“Come, look.” M’tendris beckoned her over as she knelt by a tuft of grass. “Someday you may use the tools we have, but the key to becoming a true Hunter is knowing how to hunt even without them. For these creatures, we will make snares.” She cut free a few long strands of fresh grass, pliable but tough, and then picked up some naturally fallen pieces from the ground around them, dried out and stiff. “Sometimes all you need is in one plant.” M’tendris grinned, before carefully demonstrating how to delicately loop the grasses together and how to deftly shred thin fibers from the blades to form a tensile wire of sorts.

After a couple of sloppy attempts to copy, T’chendris-hlau soon had a suitable loop of her own. The two of them crept across the meadow to find the burrows, where she copied her mother carefully in setting the ‘stakes’ down with the loop in place, a fibrous tripwire in place. And to top it off, some of the luscious seed pods from the tops of the grass were scattered as bait. They were a favorite of the burrowing critters, but they seldom got them. Perhaps they didn’t know where they came from, and so never thought to chew the grasses down, instead forced to wait until the pods fell and hope that they weren’t dried husks that had lost their flavor by that time. Then the Yautja hurried away, settling in the shelter of the grassy clumps again to watch the burrows intently. M’tendris raised a claw to her mouth as she looked to her daughter, reminding her to stay quiet. It wasn’t really needed; T’chendris-hlau could barely contain her excitement but she knew well enough that even as casual and simple a Hunt as this was, it still was her first. She would finally be the one to bring the prey home.

Patience was something that her mother and father alike had deeply impressed upon her, but just as it was for any child it was not easy, especially in such an exciting situation. But then she saw movement, curious snufflings at the mouth of the burrows, and then in quick succession a pair of alarmed squeals. M’tendris rose, but she couldn’t even beckon to T’chendris-hlau before the child was dashing across the meadow to see her catch. In each of the three snars a critter writhed, squeaking and wheezing. Two had been caught around the neck and forelimbs, their hindpaws scrabbling desperately. The third had only gotten its hind leg caught, but it was clear that in the panic it had already broken its own leg badly, twisted oddly as it tried to escape. T’chendris-hlau balked a bit, suddenly intimidated, but M’tendris crouched at her side and gave her a gentle nudge. “Don’t falter. When the Hunt begins, you must not let your prey suffer.”

“What do I--” T’chendris-hlau started to ask, before she saw her mother had already moved to the first two creatures, deftly grabbing them and twisting, a short squeak accompanying the snap of their necks before they went limp. The third, the one whose hind leg was the only part caught, continued to squeal and writhe in the dirt while M’tendris looked to her daughter. “Finish what you started, child. This is how the Code works. We are not afraid to kill; the Code teaches us to do it well, and right.”

T’chendris-hlau swallowed nervously, nodding. It was the uncertainty of inexperience which held her back, not a fear of finishing the deed. Seeing the critter suffer was pitiable, that much she understood. She had trapped it, and now it was her duty to end it. She stepped over, fumbling briefly to catch the wriggly creature in one hand to hold it still--a task slightly harder for her smaller claws compared to her mother’s--before taking hold with the other and imitating M’tendris’ movement. She felt the dull pop-crack under her grip, the critter squealing sharply before it went limp save for the restless twitching of its paws. M’tendris purred her approval, able to hold her pair in one hand alone while she reached out with the other to stroke her daughter’s short tress. “Good job, my little one.”

T’chendris-hlau exhaled shakily, the thrill of it finally sinking in as she stood, collecting the leftover snare material as she saw her mother do. They left the seed pods as a compensation of sorts to the other critters living there, a promise that those burrow entries did not always bring death, and they took their fresh kills back to the homestead for processing.

Skinning and gutting the critters was not as thrilling as the actual catching and killing. M’tendris laughed as her daughter squirmed, claws bloodied from a botched attempt to cleanly slice the pelt open that had ended with the critter’s guts spilling into her lap. But finally, the meat had been stripped away and was cooking, filling the hut with the delicious smell, and T’chendris-hlau watched in awe as her mother carefully processed the last critters’ skull. She had stripped it clean, and after dousing it with a chemical that peeled whatever bits of sinew and meat still held on away, she handed it to the child with a proud rumble. “There. Your first trophy. You can show your taka when he returns tonight.”

T’chendris-hlau took the skull reverently, admiring the smooth bone and running a claw along the curve of it. Her first trophy; not much of a prey but it was still more than the child had ever earned for herself before. Even when she and her mother settled in to eat their meal she held the skull in one hand, never letting it go. It was her constant companion through the day, until finally as the sun sank the glow of the Phantom’s engines came into view above, the ship coming to land just outside the camp. And by the time her father was descending the ramp with a heavy crate of new supplies hoisted over his shoulder, she was already dashing out to meet him and show off her prize.

When she settled into her bed that night, the pride radiating from her father’s mind into her own was still warming her throughout. Her trophy was perched on the little shelf above her hammock, and she purred to herself happily as she regarded it in the dark, until her eyes could stay open no longer.

#my writing #pariah #T'chendris-hlau #Frost #yautja #predator #alien #scifi #fanfic

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yergink · 4 years

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Bravery and a Bowline Ch. 2

Heavier on the fluff this time around! Also a bit longer than last chapter at 4.6k words.

First Chapter

Next Chapter

Crossposted to Ao3

Summary: Walter learns a bit about the other people on the island. Meanwhile, the kids decide to amuse themselves the best way kids know how.

They’re out gathering charcoal one day and Walter has a particular thought on his mind.

By now, his stay on this island the others call “the Constant” has reached a whopping ten days, and in that time, he’s been doing his best to be of help around camp.

For instance, he’d been helping Webber tend to the farms. Walter didn’t mind the dirt and muck staining his clothes, and he’d gone on a field trip to a farm for school once, during which he’d been paying a lot of attention, so he was sure he could help. They’d packed seeds into the ground with manure and mud, and to Walter’s surprise, the crops grew alarmingly quickly. Webber seemed to enjoy the company as well, chatting away about the things he liked as they worked. Walter’s found out they both have a similar penchant for bugs.

He’d been helping Wendy as well, and her biggest chore was tending to the rabbit traps spread amidst the plains. She showed him how to weave them and how to set them above the rabbits’ dens. That was where his help had ended, though. Walter tried to help her collect the traps at the end of the day, but he’d ended up feeling so bad for the rabbits that he’d ended up letting one go and Wendy said she’d handle it after that.

Still, Walter wants to be as helpful as he can, which is why he’d volunteered to help Willow gather fuel without realizing what exactly that would entail until. And then, he was standing in front of a forest ablaze, eyes wide as he watched Willow clap excitedly until the burn died down. When he’d piped up about fire safety, she’d just waved him off and reassured that this was a “controlled burn.” Walter didn’t think that was true, but he bit back his objections.

Now, amidst the scorched trees, he watches Willow heft her axe over her shoulder and asks, “You said there were other people on the island, right?” She pauses, adjusting her angle.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. There are. What about it?”

She swings the blade at the trunk of a freshly charred tree, and it crumbles under the force. Walter gets about, kneeling to gather the fallen pieces of charcoal and packing them away in his backpack. Woby, well-fed and in her large form, lies on her back in the sunlight just outside the forest.

Walter fidgets, rubbing his soot-stained fingers together. “Can I meet them?”

Willow snorts. She’s leaned down now, helping gather the pieces as well, and she stuffs the last charred branch away and straightens up. “When they decide to show up to our base, then sure. I’m not supposed to let any of the kids wander around.” She approaches the next tree, and before she can even regain the grip on her axe, Walter zips around it, clasping his hands together and putting on his best pout. His mom always told him he could convince the moon to fall with that face.

He’s not certain it’s going to be enough, but it does give Willow pause. “Stop using little kid powers on me, it isn’t gonna work.”

Walter pouts further, blinking a few times to make it really dramatic. His eyes water a little bit.

Willow makes a show of not looking at him, but after she cracks down the tree and sees him still waiting expectantly, her resolve seems to falter. She sighs. “Listen, I can’t really take a break to give you a whole tour of everyone’s camps, but I can tell you about the rest of them at least.”

“That works!” Walter chirps.

Her axe fells another tree. “So, I’ve mentioned Wilson before, right? He’s like, a scientist or whatever, which is just a codeword for ‘huge nerd’ if you ask me.”

Walter personally finds science rather enjoyable, so he just gives a small hum at that. “What kind of science?”

She makes a vague hand gesture. “He’s never really specific about it, to be honest. But he’s sort of a doctor. Or, he used to be, I think. Before we got here. And he used to be really stuck-up about it, too, thinking he was all smarter than the rest of us.”

“But not anymore?”

“I mean…” she trails off. “I think it was mostly just him being defensive. When it comes down to it, he’s really sweet, even if he is an idiot sometimes.” She turns, moving towards the next blackened trunk, but not before Walter catches the half-smile on her face, a look that seems uncharacteristically soft for Willow. She clears her throat. “Anyway. Ms. Wickerbottom also stays at the eastern camp with the kids. She can be a bit strict, but she’s pretty nice. She’s kind of like everyone’s grandma. You’ll probably get along with her pretty well, spouting off facts the way you do.”

They keep gathering, circling the edge of the forest line. In between felling trees, Willow’s counting off people on her fingers. “There’s Winona. She’s real spunky, and smart to boot. And there’s Mr. Wolfgang who comes off really intimidating, but he’s a sweetheart under all that muscle. He gives the best piggyback rides. And there’s Wigfrid--she can be a bit intense, but she isn't too bad. And--”

“Hey, Willow?” Walter interrupts. He feels like he’s back home trying to memorize plant names, and he wishes he had a notepad. “Maybe I’ll remember them better if I actually meet them.”

She laughs. “Sure.”

The sky grays out a bit by the time they finish hacking down trees and collecting the charcoal. The sight of incoming rain makes Willow anxious, and she gestures for them to begin the trek back to camp. The two of them walk side by side, Woby shuffling along quietly behind them. Walter shifts his hands up the backpack straps while they walk, getting a better hold on the heavy load. Despite intending to shelve the topic of the other people on the island, he can’t quite stop thinking about it.

Cautiously, he asks, “So, how many people are here in total?”

Willow hums in thought. “I think with you we’re up to a whole seventeen.”

Seventeen people. It’s a bit difficult for Walter to comprehend. Not the number itself, mind you, but that so many people would have been lost here and had yet to find a way home. It’s worrying, although Walter doesn’t want to linger on it for too long. If he’s honest, the biggest concern he has is that this is going to make him get sick of camping.

...He just hopes his mom isn’t worrying too much.

After they return to camp and unpack the charcoal into the boxes by the fire, he notices Willow keep glancing fretfully at the clouded sky, and she juts her thumb towards the tent, saying that she’s going to take a nap before nightfall.

Walter nods, of course, fully intending to stay in camp as well, although as afternoon sets in and the promise of rain is still unfulfilled, he finds himself growing bored. He sits by the smoldering ashes of the firepit, tossing a stick across the length of camp for a now-small Woby to fetch, although it looks like even she is getting tired of doing so.

She drops the stick at his feet and whines, headbutting his arm when Walter reaches to throw it again. He lets the stick fall and scratches behind her ears. “You’re bored too, aren’t you,” he mumbles, and Woby barks in agreement. She darts away from him abruptly, pointing her nose towards the gate and running back and forth between it and where Walter is sitting.

He perks up a bit. “You wanna go on a walk?”

She barks. Walter stands, glancing back towards the tent, listening to Willow’s snores gently emanating from it, and then to the sky, weighing the risks. Then, he carefully unlatches the gate and slips out without looking back.

Together, he and Woby meander through the plains a bit. The air here doesn’t smell like the air back home; it’s got a sense of danger on it, not to mention the heavy smell of monster blood that Walter hasn’t entirely grown accustomed to. Still, there is still the thrill of taking it all in. Nature is nature, and Walter has learned to appreciate that. He even has a badge for it.

The tall straw-like grass begins to give way into forest, and he’s wandered back into the midst of the deciduous trees, where he first met Wendy. As autumn has gone on, more and more of the trees have gone bare, and with the clouded sky the forest has a much eerier atmosphere than usual. Woby sniffs out mushrooms for him to pick, particularly the spongy green ones that tend to sprout in the evening.

He’s just crouched down behind a few bushes to dig up another one when he pauses, the sound of voices brushing by on the wind.

There are several. One of them is high, an echoey sort of trill that he recognizes as Wendy immediately. There’s also that haunting wispy sort of noise that Wendy’s sister Abigail always makes. She doesn’t speak with words the way Wendy does, and Wendy’s the only one who can understand her, but she’s a good translator. Walter thinks he and Abigail have become pretty good friends, even if he was a bit creeped out by her at first.

Then, he hears a third voice, one that’s unfamiliar. Woby starts growling, a low, threatening rumble that doesn’t sound right coming from her small body. Walter shushes her, going still to try and hear what was going on.

The unfamiliar voice is talking. It’s a deep, smooth cadence, and it makes Walter think of that old ragtime tune that had played on the radio that brought him here.

“--struck with a bout of insomnia and was coming by for some assistance,” the voice says.

“Out of nowhere?” Wendy asks.

“I believe it has to do with that ridiculous robot screeching up a storm every night just over the river.”

Walter pushes aside the lower branches of the bush to get a better view. He sees Wendy, standing by a nearby pond with an older looking man in a sharp suit. Immediately, he’s a bit suspicious. The man is tall, and he all but towers over Wendy, leaning slightly down towards her as they talk. Walter feels Woby, still rumbling with a quiet growl beside him as he looks on.

He watches Wendy shake her head. “I’m afraid Ms. Wickerbottom is currently absent from camp. Both she and Mr. Higgsbury embarked to the underground nearly a fortnight ago. Only Ms. Willow is there right now.”

The man scoffs. “They left you in the care of the firestarter? I wouldn’t trust that woman to look after a goldfish, much less a child.”

“To be fair, uncle, it would be extremely difficult to burn a goldfish.”

Walter looks to Woby, who cocks her head in what seems like an equal amount of confusion. “Uncle” ?

The two conversing fall into a lull of silence. The man clears his throat.

“...And you’re sure you won’t reconsider staying at my camp?” he asks. There’s a hesitation behind his words, an uncertainty that marrs his otherwise smooth, charismatic tone, roughening it around the edges.

“I do not feel comfortable leaving the camp at this time,” Wendy says after a moment’s thought. “And, in fairness, I believe Ms. Willow to be a good caretaker. You needn’t worry.”

The man coughs. “Right.” He glances backwards. “I’ll be on my way, then.”

A peal of thunder rumbles across the sky, and Wendy murmurs, “May you stay well,” as the man leaves. She watches him leave with that odd sort of stillness of hers, like a statue in the forest. A few leaves fall, sticking in her hair, though she does not move until the man has entirely vanished from view. It’s only then that Walter makes a move.

“Wendy!” he calls, shaking himself out of the bushes. “Who was that?”

Wendy pauses, glancing to Abigail, then back at him. “You were eavesdropping,” she frowns.

“Kinda,” Walter admits. “So who was that?”

With some trepidation, she says, “That was our”--she indicates to herself and Abigail with a nod--”Uncle Maxwell. He camps by the rock fields.”

Woby barks, and Walter looks down to see that she’s glaring in the direction the man left, her hackles raised and tail angled in alert. He frowns. “Woby stop, that’s not nice.”

Usually, a command like that would be enough to calm her, but she growls again, low and threatening, pawing at the ground like she’s about to run off after him.

“Woby, what’s wrong with you?” Walter exclaims, swooping to pick her up before she has a chance to take off. The dog squirms in his arms, and he struggles to keep his hold on her, her back paws digging into his stomach as he tries to get her to still.

“She probably senses Their presence in him” Wendy suggests, her head tilted sideways as she watches him grapple.

He rests a hand on Woby’s head, scratching in the space between the bumps of her horns as her growls begin to taper off. “What do you mean?”

One of her hands reaches for the flower clipped in her hair--a nervous habit. “I forgot that you don’t know.” Upon seeing her sister hesitate, Abigail floats closer, whispering in that airy, incomprehensible tone. It seems to help, because even as Wendy looks away, she keeps talking.

“My uncle was the one who brought many of us here,” she explains. “And even while he has lost his crown of shadows, there are many who have continued to forego forgiveness.”

“Oh,” Walter says. He doesn’t know how to respond.

“Not all of us were condemned by his hand,” she says hurriedly. “You, for example. But my uncle has a hard time finding good favor with others. His time as king has tainted him with a terrible arrogance.”

“He did seem kind of rude. Uh, no offense.”

“None taken.”

They keep walking. It’s awkward. Walter breaks the silence. “So, do you talk to him a lot?”

Wendy hums. “As often as I must. Despite everything, he is still family. And he has been earnestly attempting to better himself, which I believe we all appreciate.”

Abigail makes a sound like steam rising off a lake, and Wendy nods in agreement. “Abigail makes a good point. We know that he cares about us.”

It’s an offhand comment, but it sends a pang of jealousy through him. Wistfully and without thinking, Walter says, “It seems kind of nice. To have family with you.” It’s a more emotionally revealing statement than he wanted to make, and he’s a bit alarmed with himself for having said something like that. Wendy seems to take it in stride though, making a sort of sympathetic sound.

“It is difficult,” she says, “to be forced to face a cruel world without a caring presence beside you.” Walter gets the feeling she isn’t talking about Maxwell anymore. Abigail murmurs sadly, hovering over Wendy’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” he agrees. Quickly glancing around to verify that they’re alone, he puts a hand over his mouth and steps closer to her. “Don’t tell anyone, but… I think I’m getting a bit homesick.”

Solemnly, Wendy nods. “I shan’t speak a word of it to anyone.”

According to the strange thermometer set up in the camp, winter is approaching, and Walter is sure starting to feel it. The forest has started going bare, the coating of leaves along the ground growing denser by the day. There’s a chill pervading the air, one that sends him shivering on early morning fishing trips and late-night firefly hunting. He, along with the other members of the camp, huddle closer to the fire at night.

Wendy’s been making hats from the silk and fur they have, decorating them with different patterns and toppers. She’s steady with a needle, and Walter watches her thread the fabrics together in awe as they sit together.

“Who’s that one for?” he points at the completed hat she has sitting atop the spool of silk beside her.

“It’s for Webber.” She lifts it into the air, showing off the ear flaps. “So his extra legs don’t get cold.”

“It’s pretty.” The hat has been colored orange and red with boiled eggshells and berry juice. It’s an impressive feat of craftsmanship, and he wonders if Wendy will teach him how to sew like that, too.

She turns it over. “Thank you. But I think I made it a bit too big.”

“Let me try,” Walter says, reaching for it. The hat is soft, and he takes a moment to admire the texture before going to put it on. Before he gets a chance, however, Wendy interrupts.

“That’s backwards.”

Walter stops, looking at the hat. “It is?” He turns it over. The other side looks exactly the same. “It’s kind of hard to tell,” he admits.

Wendy shrugs. An idea suddenly dawns on him.

“You know,” he starts, and Wendy must hear the mischief in his tone because she immediately frowns at him. “It would be kinda funny if he wore it backwards.”

Unconvinced, Wendy asks, “Would it?”

“Yeah! My older cousins once convinced me that you can wear a skirt like a shirt, and they thought it was pretty funny, so I guess it must be funny to wear clothes wrong.”

“Maybe.” She still sounds dubious.

Walter stands up, gesturing for Webber to join them. “Here, give it to him,” he whispers to Wendy, shoving the hat back into her hands as Webber approaches.

“What is it?” the boy asks, glancing back and forth from Walter to Wendy. His smaller eyes don’t quite synchronize with the movements of his larger ones, and Walter finds himself momentarily distracted by this. Luckily, Wendy takes charge, standing as well. She holds the hat out to him.

“Here. Try this on,” she says.

“Oh, you finished our hat!” Webber exclaims. He grins as he takes it, taking a moment just as Walter did to marvel at the softness, before placing it over his head. Wendy’s initial assessment that the hat was too big was immediately obvious, and coupled with having put it on the wrong way, the hat leaves Webber with just a bit of his furry head showing. The front lip falls all the way down past where his nose would be, and his mouth is just barely visible underneath, open in alarm.

“It covers our eyes!” Webber says loudly, as if to make up for his lack of sight.

Walter giggles, trying vainly to stifle it with a hand, and Wendy shushes him. “It’s the intended design, Webber. And you have to wear it because I made it for you.”

They both know Webber will be too polite to object to that. His mouth abruptly shuts, hiding his fangs, and Walter thinks he sees the boy swallow, as if steeling his nerves. His stance straightens, like he’s fully committing to spending the entire winter blinded. “We will wear it then!” he declares, turning and almost immediately running headfirst into the camp’s outer stone wall. With a startled cry, he backs up, and Walter just barely manages to grab hold of his shoulder before he trips and falls backwards.

“Thank you,” Webber says as he regains his balance. “This hat is scary!”

Wendy laughs. It escapes her like a puff of smoke, a small, flightless thing that could be mistaken as nothing more than a breath come too fast. But Walter can tell what it is, and he looks to her in surprise for a moment before a grin spreads across his face.

He thinks Webber can tell what it is too, because Walter sees him lift the hem of the hat, and even though he’s not very good at discerning spider expressions, to him, Webber looks incredibly pleased.

“That was amusing,” Wendy says after they’ve gotten the hat off Webber and tucked away in Wendy’s bag for further tailoring. “I will admit that despite your naivety, you have good ideas, Walter.”

It’s a bit of a backhanded compliment, but Walter doesn’t take it personally. “Thanks. You’re a lot better at holding it together when it comes to pranks, though.”

She nods. “That is true. Does that mean you would be opposed to orchestrating a second one?”

He grins. “Not at all.”

They get Webber to help with their next one. Willow’s used to him spending nights by the spider dens along the forest, so it’s not suspicious if he doesn’t show up by nightfall.

Woby whines, shaking her shaggy head as Webber gets close, and Walter does his best to hold onto her collar and keep her from bucking him away and scampering off. “It’s okay girl, he’s nice, trust me,” Walter soothes, petting her big floppy ears as Webber struggles to mount her.

He gets it eventually, holding on tight to the fur on the back of Woby’s neck, and Walter takes her head between his hands and speaks very sternly. “Be nice to Webber, and listen to him, okay? We’re doing a prank on Willow, and you’ve gotta be good for it.” Woby woofs, which doesn’t really sound like agreement, but she seems to quickly give in, licking his face affectionately when Walter pouts at her. He grins. “There’s a good girl.”

He rejoins Wendy by the outer camp wall, where she’d been watching.

“It is impressive how well you have tamed such a great beast,” she says.

He shrugs. “Woby’s not much of a beast. She’s scared of butterflies.”

“I see.”

Nightfall finds both of them back in camp with Willow, watching as she rummages through the fridge for something to put together into a half-decent meal. Wendy looks over to him and gives him a nudge, indicating that they should start.

“I have a story!” Walter announces loudly, planting himself cross-legged by the fire. That does enough to gather attention. Willow likes to pretend she isn’t all that interested in his stories, but oftentimes she’s the one sitting most on edge, her chin resting on her hands as she listens with wide eyes and held breath for him to finish.

Now is no exception. She lingers at the crockpot for a moment while Wendy joins him by the fire, although sky quickly abandons the meatballs she’d been preparing in favor of listening to the story. Walter clears his throat, glancing out beyond the walls. There’s a small gleam of light out there, a torch, where Webber and Woby are waiting for their cue.

“So there’s this monster out in the woods,” he begins, putting his hands up. He’d practiced for this one, no messing up or scrambling his words. It has to be good. He takes a breath to steady himself.

“They say it’s huge, almost three meters tall, with long shaggy fur that drags behind it, getting all dirty with mud and leaves, and long scary claws. The people who see it say it looks like a piece of the forest itself.” He thinks that was pretty good, but Willow doesn’t look impressed yet. He goes off script, amping it up. “A-And it’s super venomous too, with acid breath and big sharp teeth!” He claws his hands in front of his face, imitating fangs. “It goes around hunting people who wander too far into the woods. Sometimes, people’ll see lights shining through the trees without knowing that they’re just the monster’s shiny eyes.”

The fire pops, sparks flying as if to emphasize his words. Willow seems pretty enraptured now, head tilted slightly as her eyes flick between the flames and Walter’s gestures.

“What else?” Wendy prompts, just as they’d planned.

For the briefest moment, the script slips from his mind, and Walter stumbles. “Huh? Oh, yeah, so--” he clears his throat again. “It uh…”

“They say…” Wendy whispers.

“Right! They say it roams out there, stalking unsuspecting campers...” he turns and finds that speck of light with his eyes again, raising his voice for the final line. “...Waiting for a chance to strike!”

With a resonant howl, Woby leaps over the southern wall of the camp. Webber, with his hands wrapped around her neck, holds on for dear life. She doesn’t quite nail the landing, scrambling to slow down on the dirt and slamming sideways into the alchemy engine, nearly knocking it over.

Walter giddily looks to see Willow's expression, but quickly finds himself pushed backwards, scraping his knees in the dirt, with Wendy toppled over and looking equally confused beside him. He winces, assessing the rough scratches of grit on his skin. Once he’s confirmed he’s not bleeding, he glances forward.

There is a towering dark shape before him, backlit by the glow of the fire, and it takes him a moment to realize it’s Willow, her spear readied and sharp in her grasp. She’d shoved them behind her almost immediately, widening her stance and placing herself firmly between them and Woby.

Walter uprights himself, reaching out hesitantly for her sleeve. “Willow--”

Her head snaps down to him, and he flinches backwards. There’s nothing but ferocity and aggression in her eyes, although it slowly fades as she takes note of Woby skittering away from her spearpoint nervously, and Webber sliding clumsily off her back, landing with an ‘oof’.

After another few moments of taking in the scene, her stance drops. “Okay,” she says finally, sinking her spearpoint into the dirt and turning to glower at each of the children in turn. “I don’t know what you all were thinking, but that was really dumb. Like, actually really dumb.”

“It was my idea,” Wendy pipes up, brushing dirt off her skirt as she stands up. “I asked Walter--”

“No, you just said you wanted to do a prank,” he argues. It doesn’t feel fair for her to try and take blame. He faces Willow, hands folded behind his back. “It was my idea.”

“...We just thought it would be fun, Ms. Willow,” Webber says sheepishly, wringing his hands as he edges forward.

“Yeah? Well I could’ve stabbed you. Bet that would’ve been real fun,” she snaps.

Webber’s eyes start welling. Seeing this, Water steps forward. “I asked him to do it. It’s my fault.”

Her sharp gaze turns to him and Walter stiffens, looking down and feeling very much in trouble. Still, he can’t let his friends take the heat for him. He’s got honor, after all.

“I know you don’t know yet, but things bursting into our camp and attacking us isn’t really something we can joke about,” Willow lectures, her tone like an edge of broken glass. “Putting one of you in the position of some monster? That’s really, really dumb.”

Walter keeps examining his shoes, his hands tightening around each other behind his back. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

Something in Willow seems to soften at that. She sighs, patting him on the shoulder. “Just. Don’t pull that sh-- stuff again.” She grimaces. “I have a headache. See you in the morning.” With that, she disappears into the tent.

Webber still looks on the verge of tears, and Walter murmurs an apology to him as well. Through it all, Wendy still looks nothing more than apathetic. She glances to the tent, then nods, as if to herself.

“To be fair,” she says. “Conceptually, it was very amusing.”

Walter sniffs, brightening at that. “Yeah?”

The tiniest of smiles graces her lips. “Yeah.”

#don't starve #dont starve #dont starve together #dst #dst walter #ds wendy #ds willow #dst fic #dont starve fic #my writing #reblogs and comments appreciated!#marine blogs #finally another chapter done!#ended up being longer than expected even w me scrapping an entire other scene

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