#like we don't have enough shipping container builds

[sdmnpact]

Hey I heard u like writhing fan fics based of songs well I have a idea for George Clarke the song sports car by Tate McRae

Sports Car.

George Clarke x Reader fic, smut

♪ Now Playing: Sports Car by Tate McRae ♪

**This contains a bit of smut, so please read at your discretion. These parts will be labeled with asterisks(*) **

~~~

You and George were driving around trying to find something fun to do. It was a cold Friday night and you two were bored out of your minds. Going to a pub was the plan but you just know it was going to be rowdy and it made you lose interest in the idea. You looked over to George who was driving. He was concentrated on the road, so you stared at him taking in his features, his curly brown mullet covered by a baseball cap, his jacket which resembled that of a letterman, his bluish eyes as they scanned the road in front. No doubt that you thought he was handsome, but it was never like that.

Friends was all you were, neither of you had a partner so you mostly spent your free time together. Unbeknownst to you, he loved spending time with you. Everyone knew he didn't have a missus but they always suspected you based on the way he would talk about you. You didn't make many appearances in his videos but when you did, the comment section would go wild shipping you two together, begging for it to be a real relationship.

You wanted it as well but you knew it would just complicate things. You'd rather just spend time with him, like this, as friends.

"Bowling?" He questioned turning to look at you causing you to quickly look away. "Um, nah, not feeling very athletic tonight." You turned to look out the windows feeling the blood rush to your cheeks slightly embarrassed he had caught you staring. He continued driving aimlessly. He didn't mind it at all, just being here with you was enough to satisfy him. After a few more minutes he pulled over on an empty road as most people were either at home or at the pub. You looked up towards the blue tinted streetlight that illuminated the vehicle.

"So… what now?" you asked, your voice softer than usual. He glanced at you, a faint smile tugging at his lips, and you suddenly felt warmer despite the cold night. He unbuckled his seat belt , then leaned over to undo yours. "Why don't we just hang out here for a bit?" His warm breath hitting your face as he turned towards you, scooting as close as he could. "Okay..." You said with a slight laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Usually there was never an awkward moment between you two. The silence always felt easygoing or comforting, but right now, it felt different. It didn't feel like it was between two friends but instead two people, both with feelings for each other, feelings that needed to be released. A sort of tension was building up as he stared into your eyes, a sense of lust filling his. "Maybe it'd be more comfortable if we sat in the backseat?" He suggested as you just nodded your head. The two of you shifted towards the backseat, one seat with nothing separating you.

He sat close to you, both of you feeling comfortable enough to interlock your legs or grab each others arms. Your legs rested on top of his lap as he pulled you closer by your waist. In his mind, he was trying to warm you up in this already heated car. You didn't mind as you wrapped your arm around his waist under his jacket, feeling the warmth that was harboring underneath. Not a single word was spoken as you stared longingly into each others eyes.

You saw his gaze move towards your lips, you slightly tugged on his shirt as a way to let him know, it was fine. He leaned forward and planted his lips on yours. You felt you heart begin to flutter as you leaned into the kiss moving against his lips. His grip on your waist getting tighter as he pulled you closer. Your hands moving out from under his jacket moving towards his face, cupping his cheeks. You went from resting on him to fully straddling him.

**

The small space only pushing you two closer together. The heater on full blast and the grinding of your bodies together creating a sauna in there causing both of you to get very hot, very fast. He quickly pulled off his jacket, pulling yours off in the process. You were both hungry for more, he pulled off your shirt leaving you in only your bra and pants. He moved his kisses from your lips, down your neck making sure to plant gentle kisses down to your collarbone. You slightly moaned as he continued his way down, lowering a strap of your bra, kissing your shoulder, looking up at you for a second wanting to see the pleasure he was causing you. His hand reached for the back of your bra undoing the clips, one by one, he removed it leaving you fully revealed to him.

He kissed you again starting from your shoulders down to your breast making sure to give equal attention to both. You let out a louder moan as he caressed them. His tongue doing wonders on you. You desperately wanted him pulling on his pants as he looked up and grinned at you. You reached, unzipping and pulling them down revealing his member. You reached for it, stroking it gently, slowly increasing your pace with each moan that escaped his lips.

He grabbed your face, kissing you rougher than last time as you continued to please him. You enjoyed hearing his precious moans and loving the way you're making him feel. Shortly after, you felt him twitch as you let go of him making him unable to finish.

**

You smiled slyly as you grabbed your bra off the floor. He was breathing heavily, sweat droplets on his forehead as his front hairs were now drenched. He sat back, watching you put your clothes on, licking his lips. You wanted more of him but you wanted him to wait for it.

"Done already?" He said pulling his pants back up. You looked at him as he was grinning sheepishly. You rolled your eyes as he pulled you back towards him wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Wanna take this back to my place?"

~~~

A/n

I assumed based on the lyrics that it would be okay to write a bit of smut but if not, feel free to lmk and I'll write another one! Thank you so much for the suggestion!! I hope you enjoyed!!

[minminyoonjii]

What about minchan smut where they go out to a convenience store together to grab snacks for their movie night only to bump into someone and instantly fall head over heels with them and end up bringing them back to their house and railing them into oblivion turning them cock drunk and brain dead?

-🤍🦇 if I may

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

💜Rules and Guidelines

🕯Summary: Movie night snacks are always essential. Who knew bumping into a wall would lead to this?

💛AN

Definitely, 🤍🦇-nonnie hehe. First fic after a while, I hope it's good.

🌹CW

Cunnilingus|Oral Sex|Protection Used|Blowjob|Oral Fixation|Pussy Drunk! Lee Minho|Praise Kink|Wet & Messy|Dacryphilia|Needy! Reader|Slow to Rough Sex|Switch! Lee Minho|Spitroasting|Aftercare

💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.

🍄Wordcount: 2.3K

"Hyung, did you get everything?" Minho asked, hooking his chin over Chan's shoulder. "Looks about everything. Are you sure this is enough pudding?" he teased, running his fingers through Minho's hair. Minho tsk, nipping Chan's ear, "Very funny, hyung," he muttered. Chan chuckled, "If that's all, we should be good then," he said, walking ahead, facing Minho. A firm grunt escaped his lips when he bumped into something. 

You winced, thankful that the cans you held didn't fall on you. Chan's eyes widened, "Oh shit, sorry," he apologised, helping you up. You coughed up a laugh, "It's fine, but to my defence. I didn't expect a walking wall." you said, eyeing Chan's build. He chuckled, rubbing his neck sheepishly, "Yikes, sorry again," he said, picking up the things you dropped. Minho snorted at his boyfriend's blush-tinted cheeks. 

Chan gulped, taking a good look at you as he handed the cans. You smiled, oblivious to his blatant stare, "So, movie night snacks or just stock up?" you asked, gesturing to the handful of snacks. Minho blinks, hitting Chan's shoulder subtly, "Movie night, what about you? That's quite a number of canned fruits," he rambled, snapping out of his daze. Minho chuckled inwardly, "Don't you think it's rude to question a person's grocery choices, hyung?" he teased, rubbing Chan's ears. 

You giggled, "Well if he's being rude, then I'm ruder for bringing it up," you said, taking Minho aback. Minho's jaw dropped into a slight agape before he blinked out of it, "I didn't mean like that, I just-," he said, flustered by your comment. Chan chuckled, rubbing Minho's back, "Deep breaths, baby," he said, egging Minho on. Minho scoffed, biting his tongue before burying his face in the crook of Chan's neck. You cooed, "Aww, I'm sorry if I made you shy," you said, looking at Minho sympathetically.

"It's okay," Minho mumbled, peeking out briefly. Chan felt his heartthrob, "Since you have the drinks and we have the snacks, why don't you come to our place for a movie?" he suggested, letting his emotions take the lead. You freeze, "Huh?" you questioned, wondering if you heard wrong. Chan cleared his throat, "I meant what I said, would you like to hang out with us?" he asked, his fingers over Minho's firm arms wrapped around his waist.

You bit your lips, weighing the pros and cons until you decided 'Fuck it, they're hot,'. With a deep inhale, "I'm down," you agreed, smiling at them. Chan mimicked one back, "Great, our car is out front. If you don't mind we can ride it together," he prompted. You nodded your head, "Fine by me," you said, laying your purchases on the counter. Minho turned to face you, "My name's Minho," he said, waiting for yours in return. You chuckled, answering him, "And you?" you questioned, looking at Chan.

"Oh, I'm Chan. I didn't realise the late introduction," he said, carrying the items. You shrugged, "Me neither," you said, growing comfortable with their presence by the second.

"Nice place you got here," you said, setting the ingredients aside. Minho hummed, "It's very minimal," he said, pouring the snacks into containers. You nodded, "I bet your rooms showcase your personalities well," you said, mixing up the punch. Chan nodded, "Our shared bedroom has its spin, but if you really want to know our personalities I suggest a visit to our studio," he said, taking a sip of the punch you made. Puzzles connected in your head, 'They're a couple', you thought.

Minho stood far back behind you, instinctively eyeing the curve of your ass. He tried his hardest to look at something else but he wanted nothing more than to watch your bottom meet his palm. Chan was holding his composure slightly better than Minho, "What were the actual plans for your night?" he asked. You hummed, tasting the punch from the ladle, "Casual night in with shows to binge," you said, deeming the punch sweet enough. 

Chan nodded, feeling the drool pool below his tongue at the sight of your glossy lips, "Self-care is important," he said, bringing the things to a coffee table. You purse your lips, "Yup," you said, knowing damn well you were going to spend the night edging your aching cunt. A deep exhale escaped your lips as you tried to shake the idea away. Minho took a seat next to you, "What movie would you recommend to us?" he asked, subtly reaching his arm over your head. 

You hummed, "Well there was this show I wanted to start," you said, clicking it. Chan smiled, "Good choice, I think I heard it from somewhere," he said, getting comfortable as he took a seat. All was going well until you remembered why this show was infamous. You gripped the glass, staring ahead. Chan shifted, crossing his leg over the other to hide his growing semi. Minho took deep breaths through his nose, shutting his eyes every once in a while to distract himself from the sheer pornographic moans.

A weak whimper escaped your lips, body heated both from the alcohol and the initial neediness you had. Chan gulped, hearing your sweet whimper over the actor's grunts. Your thighs trembled, pleading for any form of pressure to subdue the craving in your abdomen. Minho grunted, turning down the show "Do you want our help?" he rasped, hair tousled from how much he was brushing it back to distract himself. 

You blinked, "Huh?" you questioned, voice barely above a whisper. Minho got on his knees, rubbing your calves, "Do you want us to help you, princess?" he whispered, careful to not make you uncomfortable. You gulped, embarrassment running through your veins at the thought of you being so utterly obvious, "Please?" you questioned, thoughts running through your mind. Chan stroked your hair, "Don't worry, we'll stop the moment you tell us to. Just give us the word and we'll back off," he reassured, patting your shoulder.

Minho nodded, "We just want to help you, sweet thing," he said, letting you rest your palm on the top of his head. You gulped, undeniably horny at the thought of two gorgeously looking men prioritising your consent. Chan hummed, "You can make the first move, little one," he said, tracing circles on your shoulder. You pressed your thighs close, "Kiss?" you asked, turning to face Chan. He chuckled, cupping your cheek, "Close your eyes for me," he instructed, pressing his lips against yours.

You moaned into the kiss, feeling his plush full lips sync with yours. Chan groaned, slipping in his tongue, teasing the roof of your mouth with the tip. Minho grunted a whine, nipping at the fabric of your tights. "Shit, angel. You kiss so sweet," Chan chuckled, pulling back. Low heavy breaths huffed between you, and Chan couldn't help but lick your spit-glossed lip. You shivered a moan, lifting your hips for Minho to tug down your bottoms.

Minho wasted no time to mark your supple skin, nipping and sucking deep bruising bites. Chan cooed at his boyfriend's possessiveness, "Can't leave the kitten to his own devices for too long, princess. Why don't you tighten that grip of yours?" he prompted, kissing down your neck. Your cunt ached to be touched, soaking through those skimpy panties you wore on a whim. You tugged on Minho's roots, bringing his face closer to your warm pussy.

Chan removed his top, defined muscles on sight, "May I?" he asked, brushing his fingers up your top. You nodded, spreading your legs further for Minho to comfortably bury his face against your panties. Chan gripped your waist, pushing the fabric up to show your cute tummy, his thoughts spun at the idea of his cock bulging at that specific spot. "Fuck me," he mumbled, tugging the fabric past your head to admire your body. 

Minho worked his tongue the moment his face was inches from your clothed cunt. Drool pooled his mouth, soaking the panties you wore. He pushed the fabric aside only to wrap his lips around your throbbing clit. You bit back a squeal at the sudden zap of pleasure electrifying your abdomen. Minho moaned, hooking your thighs over his shoulders, "So fucking pretty," he grunted, licking down your slit. You whined, arching your back into his mouth "Ah! ah, ah," you moaned, breathlessly. 

Chan groped your chest, lips sucking around your sensitive nipples, "They're so hard, princess," he groaned, flicking his tongue. Tears pooled in your eyes, pleasure swimming in your head. Minho shifted lower, using his nose to press on your swollen clit as his tongue stretched out your hole. Your back arched at the intrusion, "There, please, please, please," you pleaded, clawing your nails into the sofa below. Minho huffed out a growl, adding his fingers with his tongue.

A silent scream escaped your lips as your orgasm broke over the edge. "Shit, shit, fuckk," you dragged, moaning. Minho licked your orgasm clean, sucking on the entrance of your cunt. Chan pulled off your chest, "I need to see that expression again, princess," he groaned, manhandling your body across the sofa. You moaned at his strength, arms wrapping around his firm thighs, "Chan," you whined, looking up.

Minho groaned at the aches in his knees, "Hyung,  the condom?" he slurred, shaking off the pussy drunk haze. Chan leaned back, grabbing a box, "Here, baby," he said, handing them to Minho. You furrowed your eyebrows, "Fuck, I forgot to ask if you both are clean," you grumbled, the underlying pleasure still clouding your mind. Chan chuckled, brushing your hair back, "We are. I'm guessing you are too?" he asked, kissing your forehead.

You nodded, "Got a test a few weeks back," you said, eyeing Chan's clothed bulge. Chan followed your line of sight, "Ask and you can have it, little one," he said, holding your jaw to face him. You bit back a whine, "Please, Chan. Let me suck your big cock, please," you begged, needing to feel the weight of his throbbing cock on your tongue. Minho moaned at the sight of your curved back, finally able to touch the mounds of your ass, "Sweetheart, this might just kill me," he grunted, slicking his wrapped cock against your folds.

Chan cooed, stripping off his boxers, "Such a sweet little girl," he praised, stroking his cock. You whimpered, slacking your jaw, sticking your tongue out. Minho spread your folds, lining the tip of his cock with your stretched hole, "Relax for me, darling," he whispered, pushing inch by inch into your cunt. You moaned, pressing your cheek against Chan's thigh, "Fuck," you hiccuped, crying at the burning white heat stretching your ribbed walls.

Minho grunted, leaning forward to pant against your shoulder, "She's so fucking tight, hyung," he chuckled, easing his length with gentle strokes for you to get used to. You mewled, urging Chan to shift closer so you could wrap your lips around his throbbing cockhead. Chan cooed, "Aww, don't cry, princess. My cock isn't going anywhere," he said condescendingly, tapping her bottom lip with his leaking slit. You whined, sucking on his sensitive cockhead, melting at the sheer taste of his precum hitting your taste buds.

Chan threw his head back, "That's it, gorgeous," he growled, thrusting his cock firmly. Minho groaned in tandem, dragging his hips to make languid thrusts. He smirked, hitting your ribbed gummy walls "Just look at her fall apart," he grunted, angling his thrusts just the way you needed it. You choked on a sob, bobbing your head to Chan's pace as he held your hair firm. Chan growled, "Uhm, she takes it so fucking well," he praised, feeling the bulge of his cock sliding in and out of your throat.

Your face slicked with tears and drool, broken moans muffled by Chan's girth filling your mouth. Minho slipped two fingers into his mouth, drenching them in spit before reaching down to rub figure eights’ on your sensitive clit. A muffled cry vibrated through your throat around Chan's cock. He groaned, feeling the air get knocked out of him as your throat convulsed around his cockhead. Your body quivered, teetering at the brink. You sniffled, peeking up at Chan's half-lidded eyes.

Minho noticed, quickening his pace when your warm pulsing walls tightened around his cock, "Is our sweet princess about to cum? Go on and cum for us," he grunted, gripping your waist to lay merciless pounding. Chan felt his knees buckled when you sank your nails into his thighs, "Fuck! Gonna, shit, cum," he growled, thrusting his whole length down your throat. You choked, sputtering around his orgasm, trying your hardest to swallow every last drop.

Chan hissed through his teeth, easing his cock out, "Good girl," he chuckled, pushing back his sweat-drenched hair. Minho nosed your neck, marking your skin, "Please, please, princess. Need to feel you clench around my cock," he rambled, grunting into your ear. You whimper, moans falling freely as your body gave out, abdomen tense when your orgasm broke "Fuck, fuck, ah," you mewled, clenching hard around Minho's girth. 

He choked on a groan, veins on his neck apparent, "Oh fuck," he keened, filling the condom to the brim. Chan chuckled, kissing you to ease down your high, "Such a perfect little girl," he hummed, pampering kisses all over your face. Minho lifted his head, kissing your cheek, "Took my cock perfectly, princess," he praised, shifting to pressing his lips against yours. You weakly mimicked his movement. Chan brushed your hair back, "I've got a warm bath prepared, do you want to wash up now or more kisses?" he asked.

You gave him a fucked out smile, "Kisses, please," you whispered, growing sleepy by the second. Minho grunted, slipping his cock from your warm walls, "Let me help you up, angel," he rasped, lifting you onto his lap. Chan smiled, standing in front of Minho with your back facing his chest, "More kisses, as granted," he whispered, leaning forward to kiss you until you're satisfied. 

[bambi-kinos]

A few more questions about our mysterious Paul, or more like his mind and his views. I know you get many asks and if you already answered this, just post a link (You might even be Paul j/k )but I do enjoy reading your thoughts) Ok so what do you think he means when he talks about John and their relationship was like. When he says things like he's so obviously straight because of all the girls he's had, John wasn't gay, or that if he was a girl maybe he could go out and do something about John being with Yoko, "in bed" etc. Or John. (Don't think he had lots of gay phobia too despite what "they" seem to think now. Or what George, Ringo or any one of his age would think about it. Obviously Paul and John too Don't seem too clear what they where. Still never really heard anyone else talk the way they do about partnership if there wasn't some love happening. Also did Liverpool men that time really lived that tough, not hugging each other. Wasn't it a bit known for a gay town? Or is that maybe later) sorry for spellings and grammar typing stuff my phone isn't used to. Lol Hope you understand my ask. Love your posts.

I'm given to understand that men from the Northern half of the UK are actually very affectionate with each other. Lots of back slapping and chuffing and affectionate punching and so forth. @scurator has talked about it a bit and is a better source than I could ever be. But the evidence points towards Northern men actually being very chummy and expressive with each other, especially Liverpool. Sailors are passionate by definition, of course the quintessential international sailors' town will be like that too. It is Paul's specific personality defects that have him saying bonkers shit like "we didn't show each other physical affection" while there are photographs of Paul and John pressing together, bumping shoulders, clapping each other on the back, etc. Which are all typical guy-things that men do to signal "I care about you, you're important to me" to each other. Paul would lose nothing by admitting this when the evidence is clear in front of our eyes. But Paul is Paul, so he can't.

When it comes to Liverpool being a "gay town" what that really means is that Liverpool is a port city with a high population of sailors. Houston Texas, where I grew up, is the exact same way. It's a hive of international traffic with thousands of dock workers and sailors running the joint. Sometimes I used to go down to the port to watch them load and unload shipping containers. There are look outs where you can sit with a pair of binoculars and just watch them go. Liverpool has the same set up with the same population of international sailors running around. It isn't necessarily a "gay town" so much as it is a horny as fuck town that is exploding with vibrant international populations all with different ideas about what is sexually permissible and what is not. Lots of sexual openness and promiscuity that is out of step with the rest of the country, vibrant LGBT+ population despite the curtain of conservatism that strangles the rest of the region, very intense artsy culture that lives cheek to jowl with a macho blue collar population...

Now am I talking about Liverpool or Houston? Lmao. Let me put it this way, sailors will fuck anything that stands still long enough and that culture of sexual adventurousness rubs off on the people who build their lives around the international port industry. Paul and John grew up with that too. And if you're thinking that might screw with your head a little when you grow up being filled with all sorts of malicious lies about sex and relationships...oh boy does it.

When it comes to Paul insisting on heterosexuality regarding him and John: IMO this is a manifestation of his greatest fear, that someone may catch on that he fell in love with another man. I don't think Paul was ever truly ashamed of it when push came to shove but that doesn't mean he wants people to know. It's private and Paul doesn't have a lot of privacy left.

Paul is also sharply aware of how dangerous it is to be gay. Paul knew about men being killed for homosexual activity, he was raised to despise it, he was raised to think there was no future in it, that only monsters and predators were homosexuals, all of that was browbeaten into him by Le Society and most likely his family. Remember that Brian Epstein would regularly get the shit kicked out of him if he propositioned the wrong man and sometimes even the right one. Paul wasn't encouraged to embrace Liverpool's seedy underbelly, that would be lunacy. As far as Paul's family knows he did the proper thing and got a girl pregnant out of wedlock (which must have been a big relief to them.) If he ever indicated that he had romantic feelings towards John then he would be lucky if the worst thing that happened to him was getting kicked out.

(That does not necessarily mean that was the reality of his situation. It's hard to know what Jim would do in that situation and I don't think he was blind. But that was what Paul and John were both raised to expect and that is the soup they boiled in while waiting for adulthood.)

And there are bigger things than just Paul and John's privacy and sexuality going on. There are trillions of dollars at stake when it comes to The Beatles.

So when Paul is professing his heterosexuality, when he's saying John wasn't a homosexual, when Paul leans on his experiences with women in interviews, that is what he is thinking of when he does it. Regardless of whatever actually went down between him and John, he has to protect that image while still projecting authenticity. It doesn't matter if it's actually real because John and Paul learned no one wants the real John and Paul. But he can still use his experiences to color his stories and protect John and himself, as well as the legacy of The Beatles.

And it should end there. Yeah?

Of course it doesn't. Or we wouldn't be here. Paul said bonkers shit about being a woman who could have stepped in between John and Yoko. That he was jealous of her and didn't like having her around. That it was a deep relationship with a lot of heat. That they went through a divorce. And then he eventually caved and start talking about how there was a deeper love between him and John, something neither of them had the understanding or vocabulary to express.

Even in death John has the power to undo Paul completely and force him to be vulnerable. Paul gets going out of nowhere it seems like, starts ranting and has to actively fight himself to make himself shut up. Now that he's older he can't really do that anymore. And probably doesn't want to, hence he randomly inserts anecdotes about John into conversations that have nothing to do with him. John has that effect on everyone he meets, he can demand total honesty from people. Paul isn't immune to that. So Paul will talk more and more honestly about himself and John, that they loved each other. And even if all he owns up to is the platonic aspect of it...well, that's a big deal for Paul.

It's hard to say if things will stay this way. Paul often seems like he's on the verge of saying something, isn't he? In the most recent documentary about the first Ed Sullivan appearance, he underlined John and George being his brothers and that he loved them. But that wasn't what he was saying when Now and Then came out and that wasn't what he showed us when he released Eye of the Storm and printed photos of John undressed and preparing for bed while Paul took photos of him. (Probably while Paul was naked in a bathtub if the cloth fringe over his camera lens was any indication.) Do you remember the furor around Now and Then and how the entire rock journalism industry seemed to be holding its breath for something? There's a reason why @frodolives made that point about "they're gentrifying McLennon."

Yoko will die sooner than later. Sean recently sold the Dakota condo and probably moved her upstate to that farm she bought in 1979/1980 so she could be in care. The diaries Fred Seaman stole and fenced were only partially recovered and there's online chatter that Paul's allies are safeguarding the remaining diaries and other resources that Fred managed to smuggle out under Yoko's nose. Peter Doggett's book "Prisoner of Love," which contains the unifying theory about WHY John stayed in the Dakota for so long, was spiked after advanced readers' copies started going out.

Something has changed behind the scenes and we're feeling the faintest tremors of it. I'm sure that we're only just getting started with regards to revelations to come.

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

By fire and heart.

Pt.3

Daemma Targaryen. Second daughter of King Viserys and queen Aemma, you're the living portrait of your mother with the character of a true dragon, as a second daughter you don't have right to the throne but certainly, you will protect your sister's succession by heart. (You are one year younger than Rhaenyra.)

Warning: Credits of this images goes to whoever they belong to! Grammatical and spelling errors, maybe this won't be good enough but In my head the story was a good one.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Pt.4 here

It's curious how a war can make you change, years have passed and you're not a little young lady in those ridiculous dresses, you're not a girl running through the castle halls anymore, you remember the day you arrived at the step stones and the smell of dirt, ashes, blood and sea salt, was something that you would remember perfectly.

Daemon was furious, he almost dragged you back to your dragon to send you back home.

- WAR IS NOT A GAME, DAEMMA! THIS IS NOT A PLAYGROUND AND IT'S NOT A PLACE FOR A LADY.

- I'M NOT HERE BECAUSE OF THAT, I'M HERE TO HELP. YOU TOLD ME TO GET STRONGER TO SUPPORT MY FAMILY, YOU ARE MY FAMILY AND I'M HERE TO SUPPORT YOU.

His anger lasted for days, but eventually he understood why you were there, it wasn't only to help, it was because you wanted to be near him, after all, he was more like a father for you than your own dad, you also as a second child understood pretty early that you would have to build your own path.

He was a proud uncle, you were fierce and strong all those hours training and practicing helped you, you're not a scared deer, you're a dragon, pure fire runs inside you, a true Targaryen warrior.

«Careful! The dragons!!!»

All the mercenaries were screaming and running to escape from the flames of Caraxes and Whitefyre.

- WHERE ARE YOU DRAHAR, COME HERE AND CONFRONT ME!

- Don't be a coward, leave the Shadows you bastard!

Fire, death and destruction surrounded you and your uncle, meanwhile your father was living his best life with his new child.

You and Rhaenyra communicate frequently, you made her a promise and even if you are so far from home you still keep that promise, you would fly home if she called you.

Your little half baby brother, Aegon, catches all your father's attention. Your sister feels lonely, but tries to keep strong, a Targaryen never shows the sorrow that grows inside.

The news of the war arrives at your father's door frequently too, but he doesn't care, he refuses to talk about the crab feeder and refuses to send ships or any kind of help, the influence of the Hightower doesn't help much either.

«they started this war by themselves, they'll have to win it by themselves»

Rhaenyra is not in her best time, she constantly argues with your father, every letter is pretty much the same.

«Our father reminded me again about my responsibilities, as if I were an idiot, lucky you that escaped from here... My apologies Daemma, I know the circumstances for you are not any better than mine, keep yourself safe, sister, i still need you at my side.»

The rest of the letter was about what she heard about the war, how she put those old fat ladies in their place, her encounter with that wild boar, about what she saw in the forest... the white stag, and the worse comes when your sister mentions you about how you and her are now in age to marital arrangements, you couldn't contain your laugh when you read that part about the Lannister man and his proposal.

-We still can win this war by ourselves! We don't need the king's help.

- Oh trust me, Princess, we need help, soon enough we will not be capable of fighting, we're less and less.

- We do not need the king, Lord Vaemond. We'll find another way.

- If you don't ask for it, I will.

- if you do it, I personally will cut your throat.

- Enough, Daemma.

A hand squeezes your shoulder and makes you step back. Your uncle appears just in time before you and Vaemond started to yell at each other as you usually do, you're brave and smart but still you don't understand many things about war, you're learning, your refusal to ask your father's help is a clear proof of it, Daemon refuses to receive help because he already knows how to win, but, for unknown reason he still doesn't decide to give the final hit.

Meanwhile Vaemond Velaryon ran like a scared little mouse and asked for help, your father after years ignoring the pleas, finally accepted and sent a letter and a float.

Early in the morning, dragons fly over the stones and the beach, smoke and ashes, you, Laenor, Corlys, Vaemond and some other men are counting and planning what to do, there's no food or resources enough, you have to find a solution.

- We're weak and that triarchy knows it! Continue sending the dragons.

Corlys looks exhausted and anxious and exasperated, observing the map over and over, he feels hopeless.

- It is useless.

You're tired of flying around without reason, it is useless, Laenor knows it too.

- Indeed, father, the archer defend the skies while the rest protect their position, when the dragons attack they hide in those caves.

- We have to make them leave the caves...

- But they don't have reasons to leave the caves.

Vaemond complains and once again Laenor talks, he has a good plan, better than continuing flying and not obtaining nothing.

- Then let's find a reason. Someone needs to risk.

- Who? Who will be crazy enough to risk is own life?

«A dragon returns!»

- Daemon.

- Daemon is the reason why we're in this position.

- At least he's doing something, he's fighting while you only complain, Lord Vaemond.

Suddenly Corlys is in the middle of you and Vaemond.

- Enough. Listen Vaemond, I will not allow a revolt.

Daemon joins the small group, he's quiet, looks the opposite of all of you, he looks relaxed, annoyed but still with a calm mind, he's observing all the men around when a new group appears at the view, a messenger.

You instantly looked at Vaemond, you were ready to stab him over and over, you know what the message brings and obviously you know what your uncle will say.

Your uncle takes the piece of paper and reads it calmly, he's pissed, truly pissed. Just when you thought he would not react negatively, he takes his helmet and starts to hit the poor messenger over and over, Laenor and you contain him.

Moments later, your uncle takes a boat and goes to the beach, the plan would be executed. He would pretend to give up, distracting everybody so the rest of you will take advantage.

He walks through the beach with a fake white flag, the crab feeder finally leaves his cave, there's no dragons in the view, mercenaries approach your uncle, while archers point at him.

Suddenly, you appear behind him, fighting side to side, mercenaries appearing out of nowhere, rain of arrows falling over you, your legs are burning, your lungs need more air, but the adrenaline increases, Daemon falls in the sand, arrows hit him and mercenaries are on the way, it's just you and him, call it whatever you want, but the bond between you and your uncle is reason enough to make Daemon stands up, he will not let those men touch you, he knows you can defend yourself but at some point you will not have strength enough, that's why he stands up, he forgets about the pain and runs to protect your back.

Drahar thinks he already won, but once all the mercenaries are out, a wave of your soldiers are running to them, a river of flames puts you and Daemon safe, your dragon, whitefyre, lands and you quickly jump on it, all the arrows are on you, nobody has seen Laenor and his dragon until it's too late, you and Laenor eliminate the archers, while the rest is fighting at the beach.

You lost your uncle, you can't see him anymore, the anxiety is taking the best of you, where's he? What if...?

Coming out of the cave, Daemon appears there's blood covering him, he is dragging a head and a half body with him. Drahar's body, it's done, it's over.

[idiopath-fic-smile]

for @nudistcat, who gave to Friends of the National Center for Atmospheric research, and who expressed interest in something with space exploration, any fandom. oops, this got longer than 3 sentences but basically it's what little i know about star trek as an amis au, contain your surprise.

-

The Starship Patria was a small craft, with only the minimum mandated common areas; it shouldn't have been a shock to see Grantaire hanging around the bridge after his shift. In Security Officer Enjolras's defense, he didn't think anyone would have been prepared for the sight of his endlessly cynical, sarcastic, hard-drinking Communications Officer simply curled in a vacated chair with a mug of tea, surveying the stars.

It felt like a private moment, and Enjolras was willing to let it pass—he had been meaning to get an update from Captain Courfeyrac anyway—but his eyes met Grantaire's for just long enough that it would have been more awkward to walk away. Instead, he stepped closer.

"Hard to look away from, isn't it?" said Enjolras softly.

Grantaire laughed without joy. "Like a six-ship collision, maybe." Enjolras recoiled, and Grantaire added, "But ignore me, I know most of the Patria crew can't get enough of the sucking void."

"It's not a void." Enjolras tried to say it without bristling, but this struck close to home. "It's the opposite of a void."

"You'd be singing a different tune if you were out there without a suit," said Grantaire. "And none of that frontier shit if you please. Anyone who's been on the other end of a pioneering encounter knows it's only a happy story if you're the one doing the killing."

"It's possibility," said Enjolras, because snapping Then why are you here didn't feel conducive to building positive ship morale. "It's a chance to do better next time."

"With what?" Grantaire bit out. "Human nature is what it is. 'Second verse, same as the first, a little bit louder and a little bit—'"

Enjolras couldn't help it. "What's the point of anything, if that's true?"

"Ah," said Grantaire, raising his mug in a bitter toast, "now you're catching on."

"I have to believe we can change," said Enjolras, eyes tracing the makeshift constellations. "I have to believe if we try hard enough, push ourselves far enough towards empathy and wisdom and courage, we can surprise ourselves. Surprise each other. That's half of why we've ever reached out to the stars, isn't it? We want to discover what's out there, but at the same time, we hope to see ourselves in a new light."

Enjolras took a breath. He knew, from his years at Starfleet, that others sometimes found him intense. Intimidating.

Grantaire didn't look intimidated. He looked thoughtful. "Well," he said, "don't wait up for me to surprise you. I'm pretty much the same thing all the way down."

"You already have," said Enjolras, and when Grantaire blinked a second too long, "Is that tea?"

Grantaire laughed, this time with an echo of amusement. "Me and the replicator had a disagreement about what makes a hot toddy."

That felt like a good place to leave things. "Have a good night," said Enjolras, turning to go.

"You, too," said Grantaire. And then, so incongruous Enjolras nearly wondered if he'd imagined it, "I wish you pleasant surprises."

[pyschedtrickster]

TADC Ep 2 - Depression and the Meaning of Life

Well, I may or may not be a day late to release of the episode, but I've watched it three times so far and I have some thoughts. Let's get the gritty stuff outta the way.

First of all, The Amazing Digital Circus belongs to @gooseworx and therefore everything I say here is just my personal take on the episode. I could be wrong, talking out my ass, etc. But this episode really spoke to me, so good job Goose.

Secondly, spoilers <3

Third, I think I've written enough that people won't get jumpscared with spoilers. This is gonna be a long read, so bear with me. This post will contain ALL my thoughts on the episode, both meaningful and just silly things I liked.

BUBBLE

So anyone who knows me from Bunnydoll Burrow knows I love Bubble. They're my favorite so far and this episode only cemented that further. They're wonderful comedic relief and even if they don't have any character development (which I don't think they will), I will always love them.

Caine Cares Too Much

While watching this, I was immediately off-put by Caine's reactions, even beginning with him calling Zooble back. He sounds so... dire? I don't know if that was intended to mean something or if it was just to put emphasis on how much Caine cares about his creations. Caine is AI, so world-building is likely his ONLY goal, or his prompt if you will. It wouldn't surprise me if that was why he was so upset by everyone's reactions.

But I can't help but wonder if this will play into his character arc. We understand that Caine is ambiguous right now and there's no real explanation of what his intentions are in the Circus. Something about this just really set me off. It made me feel unsafe in a way as if staying behind would result in danger of some kind. Obviously, it couldn't be that bad, as Zooble did stay behind and turned out fine. Still, I can't shake the feeling that this is foreshadowing.

Zoobie

Hilarious. What a solid nickname, I've seen so many headcanons that Zooble would be a stoner in the real world. This only makes it better. They are now Zoobie in my mind.

Pomni's Child Comment

While I'm sure this was just a silly comment to be made, I kinda liked it. Just a little in-show reminder that through all of this, Pomni is a real, grown-ass woman stuck inside some digital Hell. The whole first episode, we see her wallowing and panicking, justifiably so. Finally, we get to see her grow more serious and stable.

Through the episode, we see more of her being a good character and becoming more at terms with her situation. I'll touch on this more soon.

Gangle

My girl CANNOT catch a break. Gangle is such a funny character and so, so sweet. She's level-headed in my opinion, even through her emotions. She seems to have a good grip on the shit happening around her but has a hard time communicating properly because she has a lot of feelings going on. Me too, honey, me too.

Even in the face of violence, danger, and overall shitfuckery, she doesn't shut down. Sure, she cries. But I've cried plenty of times while still holding the fort down. I think I just relate to her.

Lastly, I NEED to know what this means like I need oxygen.

Government Mandated Shipping

I dunno man, I just really liked this. I'm a shipper at heart. I've been writing fanfic since middle school. I saw pure fanfic material when I watched this scene.

Kinger and Raggs

This scene made me smile. It's a cute nod towards how Kinger is the longest-standing character and, according to some lost post of Goose's, Ragatha is the second. Plus, all of episodes one and two, we see her trying so hard to be a rock for Pomni. She tries to include everyone, keep everyone cheerful, and be a stable constant in a realm of chaos; Seeing Kinger recognize how far she's come and using that to bring her back to reason was just so refreshing. Ragatha deserves more appreciation like that: less about what she does for others, and more about what she's done for herself.

Jax's Disappointment

So we don't know much about Jax besides how Goose loves him and says he's an asshole who may or may not be irredeemable. When he started talking about violence and getting excited at the thought, I chalked it up to him being an ass. But it struck me just how much this mattered to Jax in this scene. I have questions, man. But I'm about to go on a wild tangent, so hear me out.

Jax is happy when being destructive. He gets immediately upset when things go well. And in the circus, we can assume that there have been a lot of traumatic, wild things that have occurred. I wonder if the chaos, the violence, is a comfort for Jax because of those traumatic experiences. As a person with trauma, I've learned that there's a funny cycle that I and other traumatized people experience.

We don't like the situations we're in, but when faced with normalcy, it's so much scarier than the damaging situation we come from. So, we run from 'normal' back into the suffocating arms of our traumatizing situations for comfort. Going back to the situation means more trauma, more trauma means a harder time finding peace in a safe, normal environment, which means more trauma... you get the picture.

So am I saying a fictional purple bunny is using violence in a digital realm to cope with the very real topic of trauma? Maybe. Yes. Yes, I am. This is how I cope.

Depression, Finding Your Place, and the Bigger Picture

Now you may be saying, "hey! You skipped over some major scenes to talk about silly stuff! What gives?"

Well, as the title of this post suggests, I had some heavier stuff to address in this episode and wanted to compile it all in one section. So that meant skipping over a scene to bunch it in with other ones. I'll break it down.

Depression

Let me begin with the fact that I have been diagnosed with depression for years now. I've been hospitalized for it and I've had family members struggle with it around me. This heavily influenced how I viewed this episode and specifically this scene.

Gummigoo had a perfectly reasonable reaction to seeing the perfect replica of him that is his model. Seeing something like that would shatter your world, and we see that happen to him immediately.

But when Gummigoo talked to Pomni and asked why anything matters, it gave me this really familiar feeling. Thoughts of being nothing, of feeling meaningless, the mere idea of being an obstacle--I've experienced all of these. I'm sure others have. Pomni was right when she said it's normal. Everyone has felt down from time to time.

But what Gummigoo is talking about really hit home with my depression. Thoughts like these, especially when they linger for long, change how you view the world. Everything is tinted blue and desaturated. You feel empty and eventually, so does the world around you. You feel like when the party is over and everyone leaves, you disappear--or you think you should, at least.

"Why are you trying to cheer me up? How does this benefit you at all?"

And it's so, so hard to accept help when feeling like this. Depression is a bitch in the way that it wants you to stay depressed. It feels like everyone around you wants you to feel better because it is a convenience for them. It almost feels transactional if you smile.

But Pomni says it so beautifully; "I guess I just don't want you to feel like you're nothing. I don't want anybody to feel like that."

The way she says it makes me feel like she knows the feeling too, and in reality, she says she does understand in a way how Gummigoo feels. But that? That made it real for me. I don't know why. This whole scene, the entrapment and loneliness despite not actually being alone, just embodied how I've felt for years. What amazing writing.

Finding Your Place

This scene was really the cherry on top of everything I just spoke about. We see that these two understand each other, at least as much as they can. They recognize all of this, it's ridiculous. They're hurtling through space into the unknown, hoping everything works out. They may feel empty, but they're not alone. They've got each other, for better or worse. Maybe they don't know where they belong in this liminal space, but they know where they stand in each other's minds.

And then we get this ending scene. God. Fuck.

I knew that there was obviously something to that dream Pomni had in the beginning, but somehow I didn't expect this to be the conclusion to it. I guess I was too distracted by everything else. So when I got to this shot, I got all warm and teary-eyed.

Pomni finally feels like she's got a pack, a place in this digital circus. When you don't feel mentally alone anymore, there seems to be a weight that's lifted off your shoulders. It doesn't cure the sadness, but at least you know that if you need to be picked up, someone will be there. Depression wants you to be alone, but it just lost that battle. The internet has said it best: A win is a win.

The Bigger Picture

We all know where the end of the road is. How we get there is the mystery. This thought can really make a person feel small, especially when depression comes in to tell you that you in fact are small, according to the chemicals in your brain. But the power of numbers and knowing your place in the world makes facing the unknown a little easier.

I'll be honest, the words are kinda lost on me at this point. Our demise is a really hard topic to broach. I've lost a lot of people, especially some major players in my life (shoutout to the Dead Dads club), and still, I don't understand it all. But the best way I can explain it is through my own experience and how I applied it to this episode.

I had for a long time gone through life trying to prepare and prepare. I played the role of the strong, unaffected individual after being hardened by trauma in childhood. I didn't want to be outwardly emotional, because if I was I would have to admit defeat.

It made me feel weak, especially when my depression would whisper nasty things to me about my self-worth. The bigger picture at that time didn't even exist in my mind. I lived to serve and die. It was no way to live.

Only recently, with time, a couple grippy sock vacays and therapy have I started to form my own, new big picture. At the center of this is my interactions with others. Family, friends, and strangers, all of them are affected by my actions. Even during the days when I feel worthless or alone, I remind myself that even the little things I do have a spiderweb effect. I have worth, more so than serving others or being some obstacle. I can simply walk down the street and perhaps I'll be the person who some kid looks at and hopes to look like when they're older. My existence is so much more than just a give-and-take situation with everyone around me.

It felt like Pomni found her purpose in the circus, and it was more than just playing along until the end. Rather, it was to befriend the people around her who have proved in one way or another way that they care. Abstraction wasn't in vain to them. Lives mattered, and therefore so did Pomni.

In a vast, digital world where chaos looms like a grey cloud, Pomni always mattered. She just had to realize how, and it was much more than being an obstacle or a pawn. And so do we, I think.

[betterbemeta]

I understand that everything about scale in The Transformers (any series, comic, movie, etc.) is bad.

I do. I really understand. I accept it. I have no choice to.

But it drives me insane.

A consistent sense of scale is what helps us understand objects in space. Including objects that are characters. We can understand how heavy they are, how tall they are, what spaces they can move through and which ones they can't, what their perspective is, and what a typical human perspective is of them.

This is actually the thing that makes the live action Transformers movies 'work'-- they aren't always consistent but because human characters and environments keep the same scale and establishing shots of most of the characters include that scale, all of the explosions and fights and "wow!" is relative to actual live-action human beings.

But when that isn't the case, the scale in transformers is often relative. Robots that are 'large' (Bulkhead, Lugnut & many other Decepticons, etc.) are scaled bigger than robots that are 'small' (cassettes/minicons, robots that are motorcycles, Bumblebee, etc.) and some robots that are 'important' are given a relative size that has to do with conflict that they face. The most obvious examples of that last one are Optimus Prime and Megatron, who are both often Large but may have different relative sizes as the key trait here is actually 'important'-- Optimus Prime is usually Large in relation to his team but never Large enough to win against Megatron without a Struggle to His Limits (or more heroic means like the power of teamwork etc.)

Relative scaling also applies to human characters who tend to be 'as small as giant robots make you feel.' Especially if they're a child. Which is... okay, but the whole point of Robots Being in Disguise is that they sampled a human environment with scale and are taking it with them. We SHOULD be able to assume their altmode, if it's an effective disguise, can also be a way to measure scale. But this isn't the case; TFA has a lot of weirdly sized buildings and almost all of TFP takes place in barren environments, or in Ships and Bases where the scale changes around surreptitiously.

Space robots don't have to be exactly the weight of whatever earth thing they transform into and sometimes that's totally impossible but who-is-more-massive is kind of important when your show has so many physical smackdowns. Relative mass can take us pretty far, but it can't take us all the way. Sir Isaac Newton IS the deadliest son of a bitch in space! Much more exciting confrontations can happen when we have a better understanding of what physics are possible even if we don't adhere to realism perfectly. Sort of like how drawing from life can make fantasy illustration more effective and imaginative.

And even outside of confrontation, if any characters want to interact with each other or their environment, we as an audience get SO much information based on their scale and sense of mass. Optimus Prime Has You In His Hand is more powerful if your mutual points of view are consistent. We can tell which robots can easily shake hands or hug, who can use a shipping container as a convenient thing to lean on vs a dumpster, how 'far away' stuff is for different characters, how much energy they have to use to cross a distance, and more.

Even Weird Stuff is better if we care a little bit more. In TFA, Blitzwing drops directly out of the sky if he transforms from a plane into a tank midair. We assume this is just because tanks can't fly, which IS funny. But what size of tank does he become? Is it a realistic size for a main battle tank in the modern day? Does he put on 52 tons when he changes from something the size of a F-15 Eagle to something more like an Abrams tank?? Instead of that being some kind of oversight or mass displacement thing what if we leaned into it and used this thinking to make even funnier jokes?

Many MANY mecha shows are very detailed about the specifications of their robots, which lines up with how people who are in to real life vehicles (and military technology...) obsess about the numbers. We don't need to go that far, but Vehicles and Technology are one of THE autistic things to care about and yes, I know, most of this material is 'for kids.' But who do you think is memorizing all of the Facts about Trains or Planes or Trucks out there? Why do kids care about vehicle robots, is it really just haha hot wheels vroom vroom or are some of them actually interested in what there is to like about real, non-imaginary giant metal constructs?

It drives me bonkers that the 'toy' aspect of Transformers where 'who cares, its toys' overtakes a lot of the things that help imagination play with toys in the media that's kind of the starter-imagination-play-scenario WITH the toys. Just a littttle bit more effort into consistency and leaning into showing it off would absolutely blow people's minds with what's now possible for action figures beyond vaguely bonking against each other.

[kirbybecomesastarwarrior]

Kni-Kni Lullaby Part 1

Had they all listened to Kirby... they would've figured it what it was... They will soon enough... (to be continued)

Kirby just wanted his lullaby from his papa~

Meta Knight has an incredible singing voice but is extremely shy about it (he doesn't think his voice is that good) and Kirby wants nothing less than his papa's singing voice.

(Lore/ backstory)

Dragato and Meta Knight were captured during the siege of N.M.E's Labe (which I will explain later because of spoilers), and Team Halberd had to go and save MK. The rescue was led by non-other Sir Arthur... needless to say, they all came in clutch.

To make a long story short, Jerca & Garlude were sent out to scout ahead for Meta Knight. They found him within an inch of his life... with him cradling the tiniest baby in his arms... they instantly knew, "We need to protect this baby..."

However, they're not out of the woods yet: while escaping, they spot none other than... SIR UTHER?! He was slinking around the containment unit where Kirby was... They knew something was up, so they hid away with Meta Knight's cape.

~Dialouge

Sir Uther: Keep quiet! I don't want anyone to know I'm here...

Uther's Subordinate: They're all in the outer building... Sir Uther, why didn't you inform Sir Arthur that you were coming-

Sir Uther: BECAUSE I DON'T NEED THAT USELESS BLOODY FOOL TO INTERFERE SAVE ANOTHER MISTAKE OF NATURE!...

Sir Uther: (Makes a horrific reveal-and intentions for Kirby)

And the trio finds out something... something they shouldn't have...Something awful. All three were frozen in horror... and at that moment, Kirby was clutching onto Meta Knight for dear life. As if he knew of Uther's dangerous intention. Swiftly, Sir Uther leaves in search of Kirby...

In response to this:

Jerca: AW, HELL NAW... NOT THIS BABY!

Garlude: Oh that MOTHERF*CKER...

MK: We go... we have to go now... we have to hide him..."

When the trio finally returns to the safety of their ship, Meta Knight reveals the newest little member of their family to the rest of the team, hiding away under his cape... (they all fell in love with Kirby instantly and swore to protect him)

That was 3 weeks ago~

Since then Meta Knight has been on recovery leave, and the higher-ups (Sir Uther) wanted to interview (integrate) him on his capture and what he had possibly found.

~

In MK's thoughts POV: (Nothing, just an astral baby that I plan to keep hidden from you & your filthy hands... You f*cking piece of- )

~

So while Meta Knight was at this B.S. interview, the crew thought wanted give MK a break tonight with Kirby, and everything was going great... that is until bedtime rolled around.

Putting Kirby to sleep was always a daunting task: he would cry non-stop and refused to sleep. Until Meta Knight would come in to soothe him... and whisk him away in private ... making him the only one able to put him to sleep.

Kirby always favored Meta Knight, so no one really questioned it... Jecra, however, was the only one starting to notice the pattern...

The crew managed to distract him (from the fact MK wasn't there) by playing with him and feeding him (they lost half the fridge), but when Kirby realized Meta Knight wasn't going to be the one to put him to bed... he lost it! He runs to find Meta Knight.

Kirby just wanted his lullaby from his papa~ He just has high standards for nap time and for good reason...

Meta Knight has an incredible singing voice but is extremely shy about it (he doesn't think his voice is that good) and Kirby wants nothing less than his papa's singing voice.

This is a good time to introduce two members of M.K's crew:

Sir Perry (Peridot Fleur De Lis) Non binary - They/ them

-The youngest & precious been of the group

-former thief/ indentured servant

-forced to join the GSA, family and sold them to pay off their debt

Sir Avery (Avery Lohengrin) Female - She/ her

-She is basically like Pearl from Steven Universe, but a more laid-back version

-peacekeeper/ mother hen of the team

-choose to join the GSA to run away from an arranged marriage

I have more on them later...

Garlude and Sir Gregory (another crew member I named) will be making an appearance in part 2, as well as a maskless Jecra (a little tease for now~)

There's also a reason why Meta Knight is so in-tuned with Kirby... I tried to hint at it while Meta Knight was holding Kirby... but that will be revealed later in the comic.

Look forward to it!

[theleastprofessionalchef]

Ah jeez, I started making this post end of May and saved it as a draft so I could come back with the recipe, and fully forgot to do that for uh. Yeah. A long time. I've since made a few more batches of successful mead, and have a couple more fermenting right now! I'll reblog with pics of them later.

Well! better late than never. Leaving what I'd written initially unchanged, so-

-

Two months apart - start and end - my first successful batch of mead! I've tried a handful of times over the years, but had an unfortunate habit of doing... SOMETHING wrong each time that resulted in lightly sweetened cleaning alcohol 😅

But finally, a success! Real mead! Sweet, but not too sweet, and boozy enough without being straight up moonshine

Recipe:

Roughly three pounds of honey

3? 4? Of those little mandarin oranges, quartered

1 packet ale yeast, I used this

Various whole mulling spices, I used a stick of cinnamon and a few cloves this time, but I've also tossed in cardamom pods and anise occasionally, maybe a couple peppercorns. Go wild

So much filtered/distilled water. So much. Like two gallons?

I'll be real folks, I used a cheap shitty online guide that I don't remember the link for, that said it was a good basic way to learn how to make garbage mead and that any brewer worth their salt would cringe at. It is also coincidentally the same guide I used years ago in the aforementioned cleaning alcohol incident; I haven't changed what I used or did, so I honestly don't know why that came out bad and this good. Shrugs! Yeast can't read.

Dissolve the honey in warm/hot water. Not boiling- you don't want to kill the yeast when you add it in. Think a nice, warm shower. Stir it well, add the oranges and spices, and mix in the yeast until also dissolved.

Load it all up into a large glass container like the one pictured. I ordered a carboy online for this, which is the 'proper' thing to use, but you can honestly get away with an old milk jug you've thoroughly cleaned and sanitized, if you again, don't care about it being the highest quality. Carboys come with the fermentation/filtration Thing on it to let gases out and nothing in (the little doohicky plugged into the top of the lid) but you can also get away with stretching the mouth of a balloon over where the lid would go and poke a teensy hole in it with a needle. The goal is to let the gases that build up during fermentation escape the container, but not to let outside air in.

Fill the container the rest of the way up with water, but leave a couple inches of space on top. This thang's gonna bubble like crazy once the yeast start feeding, and you don't want it to overflow and make a mess of your cupboard.

Put it in a dark, cool space, and wait a few days!

It'll bubble a lot those first days; DON'T mess with it. Leave her be. Let her have her hot girl summer. After a few days, maybe a week, it'll calm down a bit; now you can top off the water supply.

Fast forward uhhhh two months or so, and it's done! There's a more legit way to know for sure when it's done that involves watching the tiny bubbles that form near the top as part of the fermentation process, and figuring out when they'll stop, but I'm impatient and don't know jack and am here for a good time not a long time.

Enjoy mead! And maybe do some better research than I did if you want something fancy.

OH AND FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DO NOT STIR IT WHEN YOU GO TO DRINK THE FINISHED STUFF

You'll want to scoop the fruits and spices off the top and then siphon it off into another container, or do what we did and simply ladle it off the top (because on a ship of 10-13 sailors, 1 1/2-2 gallons of mead won't last longer than an off day), and NOT drink the detritus off the bottom. You can kinda see it in the picture above. It is not like unfiltered apple cider. That stuff tastes gnarly.

Do not shake the mead before drinking.

[spooky-switch]

Mama Bird || Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol. 3 Tickle Fic (Squealing Santa 2023)

Summary: The new baby raccoons have imprinted on Rocket and will not leave him alone; Quill couldn't be more amused.

Author's Notes: This is my Squealing Santa gift for @fanficsandfluff! I hope you enjoy it! It's such an honor to have been chosen to write for one of my biggest inspirations in this community!

"Oh, come on!" Rocket groaned, watching as the fluffy little creatures stumbled after him, letting out little cries for attention. "I know you guys wanna play, but I've got work to do! I can't hold ya' all the time!"

The smaller raccoons gave no indication of understanding (or caring about) what Rocket was saying, mewls growing louder at the sound of his rocket.

"I am Groot." Groot chuckled, grinning down his friend. Rocket gave a small scoff, shaking his head.

"I got LUCKY raisin' you so good with how you acted out. This is WAY different; look how many of them there are! And they're so...small!" Rocket retorted, letting out a soft sigh as the little creatures began to crawl up his legs, seeking the comforting warmth of his torso.

"You're the one who wanted to take them so badly." Quill chimed in, a gigantic grin of his own plastered to his face. "Besides, you're their mama bird, of course they'd wanna stick with you 24/7."

Rocket shot his captain a glare. "I ain't no mama bird! Besides, it's not like I could just leave them behind on that ship, could I?"

Quill shrugged. "True, but I DID offer to drop them off on earth once I had recovered, and you were the one who turned down the suggestion."

"You can't just drop them off on some strange planet they've never been to! They wouldn't have made it there, either!"

"Rocket, they CAME from earth, they would've been fine. Besides, it's not like I would have just dumped them in the woods somewhere. Earth has people specifically trained to take care of creatures like them until they are old enough to survive on their own." Quill replied, a teasing glimmer entering his eyes. "I think you just got attached to them and knew you'd miss them."

The older raccoon huffed. "Oh, shut up!" He looked down, watching as two or three of the little ones made it to his torso, immediately attempting to burrow under his clothing to gain better access to the soft, warm fur of his stomach. "Hey, watch it, will ya?" He grunted, half-heartedly attempting to nudge the little creatures away.

"I am Groot!" The tree-like alien snickered, shoulders shaking with barely contained mirth.

"S-Shut up! I ain't ticklish, I just don't want them crawlin' all over me like a bunch of little bugs!" Rocket snapped, though there was no malice behind his words, and a smile was already tugging at his lips as he continued trying to pry the little raccoons off of him.

"Aw, come on! We all know THAT'S a lie!" Quill smirked, uncrossing his arms and wiggling a few teasing fingers Rocket's direction. "You're ticklish as shit, dude!"

"I said shut up!"

Rocket squirmed, hopping from foot to foot as soft titters began to build up in his throat. He could feel the little creatures' paws scratching gently (yet infuriatingly ticklishly) at his torso, quickly driving the older raccoon up the wall.

"Shihihihihihihit! Knohohohohock it ohohohohohohoff!" The raccoon giggled; he ACTUALLY giggled! Quill let out a snort of laughter, shoulders shaking as he tried to contain his mirth.

"Oho my god, this is the cutest shit I've ever seen!"

"I am Groot!" Groot replied, nodding in head in agreement, causing Rocket's cheeks to heat up beneath his fur. The raccoon lurched forward, a wheezy cackle tumbling out as one of the little balls of fur found a particularly comfortable (and ticklish) spot on his stomach and nuzzled up to it.

"I'M GOHOHOHOHOHONNA KILL YOU BOHOHOHOHOTH! HELP MEHEHEHEHEHE!"

Quill raised a brow. "Now, why would I do that after you LITERALLY just threatened me? Nah, I think I'll just let the runts have their fun with you for a bit. You need to laugh more anyways." He retorted with a smirk, his sass only increasing Rocket's desire to wipe that smug grin off of his face the instant he managed to pull himself together. The raccoon was already plotting how to get his claws and tail on his leader's sensitive stomach and underarms; how to reduce the man to a shrieking mess.

Oho, yeah, Quill was a dead man.

[uboat53]

You know, there are times when Elon Musk's ignorance of a topic slides by because I don't know enough about the topic to contradict him, but there are definitely times when he says something so obviously stupid that it smacks me in the face.

On Twitter in the last day or so, he said the following: “Cybertruck is the worst possible choice for a car bomb, as its stainless steel armor will contain the blast better than any other commercial vehicle."

As an engineer, I've got to say, that's a wild claim. Let's pick it apart, shall we?

First of all, if you watched the video, what it did in this case was not containing the blast, it directed it. In other words, it was probably less dangerous to people walking along the sides of the vehicle, but it was probably way more dangerous to people behind the vehicle where the plating is much thinner and the explosion actually came out. Fortunately there was no one behind this particular vehicle when it exploded in Las Vegas but normally when you're just using a car there's other cars behind you or there's people in the parking lot or something. Now, we still don't know the cause of this particular explosion, but it's still possible that it was a design flaw that other cybertrucks would also have. I can tell you that I definitely feel a lot less safe driving behind a cybertruck than I did yesterday.

Secondly, when you talk about how the plating contains the explosion… think for a second about where it's being contained. We've already see how the "indestructible" nature of the cybertruck makes it a death trap when a shipping CEO's cybertruck became submerged in a pond and she drowned because no one could break her car open. The same thing is true here, you're "containing" the explosion to a place where the owners of the car are. In other words, your customers. You're containing an explosion where it will kill your customers. Again, we don't know whether this is a fault in the cybertruck itself, but Musk is now advertising that, if it is (and even if it isn't), it will definitely kill the people inside it! That does not make me want to get in one.

Thirdly, even if it was fully containing the blast, containing a blast isn't necessarily a good thing. Look, if you can prevent a blast from spreading out and injuring people, that's great, but if you can't… Every material eventually reaches it's breaking point and the more pressure builds up before that breaking point is reached, the more dangerous the resulting explosion will likely be. The same force of explosion released inside a sphere of plywood or inside of a stainless steel pressure cooker will cause very different amounts of damage if it's enough to shatter the stronger one. In the case of the plywood, you'll have the concussive effects of the blast, any incendiary effects, and you'll have plywood shrapnel being thrown out at high velocity, but in the case of the pressure cooker both the concussive and shrapnel effects will be even greater because the pressure built up even higher before being released. He's basically saying it's less deadly for light blasts and more deadly for heavy blasts.

So yeah, I've got enough education to know that Musk's reassurance/boasting isn't as reassuring as he seems to think it is. As always, he knows enough to sound knowledgeable to people who don't actually study what he's talking about, but as soon as he talks about something you do know about it becomes clear that he's not as smart as he likes to think he is.

[carionto]

A Proper Welcoming Party - P2

Part 1

As Big Thrasher's fleet emerges from hyperspace, they are all pleasantly surprised that: a) they all arrived roughly at the same time this time around; b) none of them are crashing into a planet or space station; c) they're not getting shot at immediately.

Glorious success!

Now the raid begins.

Quickly scanning the perimeter, Big Thrasher learns the orbital mining station around Mercury is, for starters, way bigger than they thought based on the intel they had, which was only a few months old. And there were three of them now. Okay, Humans build quite fast. Noted.

There was a number of heavily armed and armored large ships docked at each station, and signs of recent hyperjumps of similar magnitude, but no cargo ships. Weird. Are the Humans somehow transporting the processed materials using individually powered containers? Doesn't seem very efficient.

No matter. Big Thrasher has a fleet of a hundred ships, they can just pillage the stations themselves and load up with precious cargo. In fact, none of the Human ships or structures have shield! What fools, such easy pickings! As he was about to broadcast his demands and threats, he noticed the comms have been pinging for a while now. Oh, they want to surrender already? Good. This is going so much better than planned!

"Unidentified vessels, this is the Heart of Liquid Stone. Your sudden appearance in our space is disrupting scheduled flights. Move out of the indicated transport departure area and identify yourselves, please."

Something's off, but Big Thrasher can't quite put his finger on it. Oh well, they're listening, and they clearly don't know who they're dealing with. So, he shall speak with the full authority bestowed upon him by the raw confidence of someone who doesn't know he's about to learn a very valuable lesson!

A moment of silence after his proclamation. Indications of encrypted communication between the stations and the docked ships, and several scan pings going over his entire fleet. Then, a slightly bemused Human calls back:

"Uhh, you sure about that? From what we can see, you guys don't got enough, well, frankly everything, to do much of anything to Bertha's Bosom over there, let alone this station."

At this, one of the large unshielded military ships undocked from the station with uncanny speed and grace for a vessel it's size. If Big Thrasher was paying attention, he would have noticed that a single turning engine was more powerful than all the main engines on his flagship combined. But he didn't, because he was paying attention to the several massive cannons training their sights on his fleet.

Sure, they're big, and kinda scary, but, but, BUT - his ships have shields and theirs don't! Doesn't matter how big a gun you have, any weapons technology before the invention of shields becomes obsolete. This has proven to be true in every civilization. Energy weapons, now that's the real stuff. Drain the shields, then easily melt through the hull, everyone knows this.

So... why is it that they have all been firing at one spot on the hull of Bertha's Bosom for nearly a full minute now (without retaliation or evasive maneuvers, but they're too busy to notice such details), and it's not even red hot yet? You would need an astronomical amount of reinforced multi-layered plating with the highest grade heat dispensing alloys interwoven throughout the entire vessel to absorb a concentrated laser barrage like that. The sheer mass of such a ludicrous thing would then require stupendously powerful engines. AND to power THOSE would demand literally impossible levels of energy generation. Nothing is making any sense right now.

Then, there was a thud. Even though it's the vacuum of space, Big Thrasher felt it. He did not understand what it was.

He equally did not understand what the shiny particles were where one of his ships used to be. Or why they were streaking in a trajectory directly away from one of Bertha's.. cannons....

Oh.

Uhhh...

huh

Big Thrasher is having a thought (a truly rare occurrence, so let's give him some time)

...

..

.

RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY!!!

[ncoincidences]

all the fics I read this year, part II — drarry edition

Here's where you go for part I (jily). Drarry is my second top-ship of 2023! Personally, I am so awed by the drarry writers on here, their wonderful & unique fics out there, plus the many podfics! I hope to enjoy more podfics next year ❤️ For now I'm highly grateful to have read all these incredible fics which have comforted me during hard times ❤️🫂

Magic Man by @dracogotgame = dracogotgame - Draco is a Muggle Magic Performer, and Harry's sure he's using real magic, which he isn't allowed to do, and naturally sets up to investigate, but what follows is a fluffy romantic fic instead!

Tiny Dragons & Where to Find Them by @tasteofshapes  - Harry's tiny dragon is missing! It's with Draco 😳😏😍🥰

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them (or Draco Malfoy's Guide to Stop Dying and Start Living Instead)* by dustmouth, nerakrose asexual Harry! This fic was so amazing, the vibes were soft and p calm ❤️

Far From The Tree by aideomai - GOSH THIS FIC. goodness where do i start. It's like enemies with benefits except we know we're not going to end up together because your future kids accidentally time travelled here and at least i don't end up in azkaban in the future also there's an evil swordlady trying to kill us all AND MORE. this fic has a great concept, amazing execution and a PERFECT ending.

Nice Things by aideomai - every drarry fic list must contain an 8th year fic! This one also has some interhouse friendships and the vibe is quite cosy. This is the fic where all the 8th years are accomodated in a house called 'Gatehouse'. Kind of gives off a bit of a 2012 Avengers fic, iykwim.

The Star Splitter by @oflights - ahsvgdjsknbvghk this WIP is the bane of my existence the object if my desires etc etc. Latest update has left me hanging! It is heart-healing but angsty at the same time, and has lots of world building. Features 35 yo drarry, plus lots of time-travelling. I'm putting a lot of trust in that "happy ending" tag!

if the bees know by fanfairmod, oflights - everything about this fic screams fall amd spooky season. it is cosy, starts a bit sadly but ends on a beautiful note. also feat. cute harry & scorpius moments!

go to it laughing by oflights - v cute meet-cute!!

along each garden wall by oflights - veela Harry! Feat. A Draco who wants to whisk Harry off in his hot air balloon and a time-stopping ship. It's funny and a nice read overall.

the first in line by oflights - so many misunderstandings in this one oh my god!!!! overall it's a funny and comfort fic feat. Vet!Harry 🤩😍

Close Behind* by oflights - angsty angsty fic! Betrayal, death, lots of worldbuilding and a gripping plotline!

Byzantine by oflights - alexa play jealousy, jealousy by olivia

What dreams may come by @lastontheboat  - i LOVE the unique concept this fic is based on! Amnesiac Harry has his memory regained by Healer Draco, but in the process they must have sex! The smut was incredible.

Assumptions by  @indigo-scarf - asexual draco with hurt and comfort that patches you back together!

Tomorrow by space_wingding - Harry and Draco are older, Harry's dying, Draco's a biographer, and this is how the fic starts. In the process of writing, they fall in love as they discover more about each other ❤️

It Was All Just a Game (Rewrite) by write_me227 - holy shit is this a ride. This is angsty, adorable, angsty, romantic, etc and has all the rockiness of a teenage relationship accompanied by lies and dark lords and wartimes. it had me totally under its powerful grip.

hear me (with your whole body) by @teacup-tai - this was an interesting fic, focussing on the intricacies of drarry, how miscommunication and not enough talking planted misconceptions in their minds about their relationship

[Podfic] GOODNIGHT FROM YOUR FUTURE HUSBAND by GallaPlacidia by greenmegsnoham, PhenomenalAsterisk - truly phenomenal podfic, so many fun moments and laughter! this was my first podfic, both the fic and the reading were great, i loved consuming fic in this form ❤️

*[Asterisk marks a fic i haven't completely read.]

[diy-fire-water-pups]

Hey Zuma, I'd be interested to know how deep you can go with your submarine so that nothing happens to you because of the pressure! Rocky, your garage seems a bit small to me. Could it be that you have underground storage areas like in the headquarters? We all know you so well that you would never throw everything in a pile. An organized storage area would be enough (you can see how organized your tools are). Hey Marshall, don't you want to store your stuffed animals in a room at headquarters? Soon you won't fit in your hut anymore!

I can go down something around 900ft with my regular submarine without pressing consequences, heh! And the bigger sub we keep in the aircraft carrier ship can go down around 1600ft but I never needed to go that deep so far. I rarely go anywhere near those 900ft either, the waters around Adventure Bay aren't so deep.

Oh well... I mean, keeping tools and equipment organized is indeed one of the main rules to keep a Garage in good working conditions, after all I need to know where my tools are so I won't waste time looking for them when I need it! As for the other stuff, well... Most of it is actually stockpiled in boxes, crates and that large container base outside just to the left of the building. It's kinda impossible to organize it all, given just how many different kinds of parts and materials I got. I try to keep rusty stuff away from cleaner and newer stuff, at least...? If that counts??

Yeah, we just finished cleaning an old storage room for that! We're now figuring out where each plushie and toy will stay, it won't be only for mine, but for Rocky's and Zuma's toys too.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Look After You

could you do a peter parker hurt/comfort fic where he hides an injury? i really liked family web and i’ve been missing your peter parker fics. no worries if it’s a no <3 ��� anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: passing out from blood loss, hiding an injury

Pairings: gen

Word Count: 3470

"Spider-Man? Status."

Peter grits his teeth and puts a hand to his comm. He doesn't have to—Karen would transmit whatever he said anyway, but the movement does momentarily distract him from the gaping hole in his side, so he's got that going for him.

"I'm okay. I'm, uh, I'm at the corner of the collapsed building. Is everything okay?"

"We're still clearing away the stragglers. Can you keep lookout from there?"

"Uh—" he glances around. There's a toppled semi that would give him a high enough vantage point without straining his injury too much. "I think so. How, uh, how many are left?"

"Only a few. Stay sharp, kid."

"Aye aye, Captain." He hears a snort of laughter from Mr. Stark and a less-subtle dig at the fossil from Ms. Romanoff as he clambers shakily to the top of the wrecked shipping container. For better or for worse, the impact from one of the projectiles warped the metal so that there's almost a curve for him to lean against. The good news is the sharp part is not where he could sit and rest.

The bad news is that it faces the opposite way of where he's supposed to keep watch.

"Spider-Man? Anything?"

"Uh—negative, negative, Falcon, I don't—I don't see any of them."

"You sound winded. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, just—" he hisses through his teeth as a bit of shrapnel digs itself further into his side— "tired out."

"You should go on more runs with Steve, that'll get your endurance up," comes Sergeant Barnes's voice along with a screech of metal.

"You say like you don't run laps around him on purpose sometimes."

"He's actually pretty decent when it comes to pace matching," Ms. Romanoff says, and there's the distant sound of her firing at something, "unlike someone."

"I resent that implication." Mr. Barton muffles a grunt. "Just because I don't do all the aerial silk stuff with you anymore—"

"I'm sorry, back up: Barton did aerial silks? And this is the first time I'm finding out about this?"

"What can I say, Tony, you can take the kid out of the circus…"

"And I thought we shared things with each other." There's the telltale whine of the repulsor. "You taught the kid any of your tricks?"

"You think I can teach that kid anything he won't figure out on his own?" The whizz of arrows. They're all fighting. They're all doing things. They're all being useful. Peter's just sitting here. By himself. Not even doing the one thing he's supposed to be. "I'd be surprised if I came down and he already knew exactly what to do."

"We should put that to the test, huh, Baby Spider?"

Baby Spider. That's him. He should respond to that. Moving is hard. Why was he trying to move?

The world starts to get fuzzy. His eyes are closing—no, the world's just getting darker. And thinner. And flatter. And his head hurts. Why does his head hurt? He didn't get hit in the head. There's something wet on his side. And his hand. And the chair. Why is the chair so bumpy? He doesn't like bumpy chairs. He should've sat on a nicer chair. Maybe he should go do that. It's better to sit on a nice not-bumpy chair that isn't wet than a bumpy wet chair.

He blinks again. He's really blinking slowly. He could've sworn the world was upright a second ago. What happened to the flat black thing that was erasing his view? Maybe that was something from his suit. Mr. Stark did say he put a lot of stuff into it, so maybe it was something he just hadn't discovered yet. It wasn't like he could go into it now, he was…he was…what was he doing?

Chair. Right. He'd been sitting on a bumpy wet chair. He didn't like sitting on wet things. That just made his skin feel all itchy. Itchy and prickly and not fun. His whole side feels wet now, did he lie down on the wet chair? But that doesn't make sense. If he lay down on the wet thing, then the side under him should be wet, not the side facing up. But the side facing up feels wet. So does his arm. So does his hand. His mouth feels like it's filling with something. Is he drinking? He's wearing a mask.

He coughs. Something metallic splatters over the inside of his mask. His breathing feels thick. There's something stuck in his teeth. There's something in his mouth still. He tries to breathe. It's hard. It tastes wrong. Breathing shouldn't taste like anything, it should just be breathing. But breathing tastes bad. That's bad. He should say something. He's supposed to tell them when he thinks something's wrong.

But they're busy right now. They're fighting.

What're they fighting?

What's he supposed to do now?

Why is moving hard?

There's something crackling in his ear. He tries to reach up and paw at it. Something makes it really, really hard to move his arm. So he doesn't. He turns his head slightly like that'll make the thing crackle louder. He blinks. Was he blinking? Were his eyes closed? It's dark. It's really dark. Maybe it's night time. Maybe this is all a bad dream. Is it bad? What makes it bad? He's in pain, but that's not new. Maybe this dream is just about being in pain. He's had those before. They aren't any fun. Sometimes he gets them when he's just in the tower, because then when he's there it feels weird.

He knows it's not supposed to feel weird. He's supposed to talk to them when he feels weird, not have them be the cause of him feeling weird. But the nightmares—bad dreams, dreams, the things he has when he's not in his head properly, they all tell him that they don't have anything to worry about because he's Peter, and he's supposed to be fine, and so he doesn't tell them when he feels weird because that's not helpful.

Helpful…helpful…he was supposed to do something. He's supposed to be doing something right now.

What was it again?

There are teeth in his throat and a claw piercing his ribs by the time he manages to scrape together enough brain cells to manage the word lookout.

***

"No, you got my Baby Spider hurt, you go away."

"He was my Baby Spider first, now let me—"

"No! You've done all the necessary things to make sure he's not dying, he has been transferred to the bed to sleep and heal, which means that it's time for me to tell you off for not taking care of our Baby Spider."

"Exactly, our Baby Spider! Let me see him, he's gonna wake up all confused—"

"And I will tell him what's going on. Now shoo. You know the rules, out, out, out!"

"…you'll tell me if anything's—"

"If anything is wrong, yes, yes, of course I will, now get out."

Peter's swimming through a haze of voices. There's something cottony in his mouth. Everything hurts. Does it hurt? It hurts but like it's on the other side of a glass wall, like he can see the hurt and feel the glass moving from the impact of it but it's just not quite getting to him.

"Hey, hey, Baby Spider, shh, it's alright. You're safe now, do not worry, Aunt Spider is right here."

The soft rolling words flood his ears just as the pain shatters through the glass. A high-pitched whine reaches his ears and he only realizes it's him when the voice shushes him again with all the tenderness to make him cry.

"Shh, shh, Baby Spider, you're okay. Don't cry, don't cry—they have you on the good pain medication for a reason, you're going to be alright. And if you're not, I'll go out there and kick all of their asses for letting you get hurt so badly."

Something soft and warm touches his head. It moves over his cheek again and again, before something else touches his forehead. It feels softer and…wetter? That's bad. He doesn't like wet things. Wet things are bad right now.

"Open your eyes, Baby Spider, come on, look at me."

Oh. That's why it's so dark. His eyes are closed. He blinks and immediately whimpers in pain. It's too bright. Bright is bad. He wants to go back.

"Shit—okay, there, lights are off now, come on, that's it, look at me, Baby Spider. Let me see you."

Peter cracks his eyes open, blinking muzzily up at the blur in front of him. After a few seconds the blur wobbles and something wet drips down the side of his face. He doesn't like that, but he does like the soft thing that brushes his cheek afterwards.

"There you are," the soft voice says again as a face begins to emerge out of the blurry darkness, "there's my Baby Spider. You scared everyone pretty badly."

"Y-Yelena?"

Yelena pouts. "Not Aunt Spider?"

"Aunt Spider?" His voice cracks and suddenly he's a baby again, crying when he wakes up from a nightmare and he doesn't know what to do except hide away forever. "A-aunt Spider, I'm—I don't—"

"Shh, shh, it's okay." She pets his cheeks and hair, leaning closer so he can see her better. "It's okay, Baby Spider, you're going to be okay. Are you scared, is that it?"

"What's—what happened?"

Yelena's expression darkens. "You were out on a mission. There were these gross little crawly things that got loose from some lab and they were attacking people. You got hurt by one of them when a building collapsed and then didn't tell anyone."

The wetness…the blood…he must've bled out on top of the truck. Bits and pieces come back to him; the scrabbling yelps and gross weird not-flesh leaving chunks of viscera on the sidewalk.

"One of them got to you. It messed you up pretty badly. For a while, we weren't sure if you were going to make it." She places her hand very gently on the side that hurts a little less, the sensation dulled even further through the thick swaddle of bandages. "You got hurt really bad, Baby Spider."

"I'm sorry."

"No, no, no, you don't apologize for being hurt, that's not your fault. You apologize for not telling people that you're hurt so they can look after you."

He doesn't have the blood to spare for shame to rush to his face, but he feels it burn all the same. He's never been very good at getting scolded, not even when he's at his best. In some ways, he's happy it's happening now, when he's already in pain and crying in a hospital bed—can he count on looking pathetic and regretful enough to escape the worst of it?

Probably not. It's only Yelena here. He's going to get dressed down by everybody else later, they're most likely waiting until he's not in the bed as a favor to him but really he just wants them to get it over with now. Lick his wounds all at the same time, and all that.

"—by Spider, Baby Spider, shh, shh, hey, stay with me, look at me, come on."

"S-sorry," he wheezes out, "'m sorry, I know I did it wrong, I can—"

"Hey. Hey. None of that, you don't do that right now." The hands hold his face firmly. "You look at me, okay? That's all you do right now, you look at me."

"Yelena? I mean—Aunt Spider?"

"Yes, that's right. I'm right here, okay? I'm not leaving." Thumbs move across his cheeks���his wet cheeks—he's still crying, that's not good. "Shh, hey, it's okay. We'll worry about all that later, hm? Right now you just—"

"No!"

Yelena stops and blinks. Confusion flickers across her face. "'No' what?"

"We—we can do it now," he manages, "I know—I know I messed up, you can tell me it now, I can—I can take it, it's better that way—"

"I'm not going to yell at you while you're in a hospital bed, Peter—" Peter, not Baby Spider, he's making this worse— "you need to rest."

"No, 'm good, I'm good." He bites his lip hard and tries to take a deep breath, raising his chin. "I messed up, I'm sorry."

Something complicated works its way into Yelena's expression. The hands on his face don't soften, but the next pass of her thumb is less practical, more affectionate. "What's going on, Baby Spider? You look so scared. I'm not going to hurt you."

"No, I know, I know that."

"Then why do you look like I'm about to?"

He swallows heavily. His mouth still tastes like blood. "I-I just meant that it makes sense that—well, I'm awake now, so we can—so…"

She looks at him expectantly when he doesn't finish. He swallows again.

"I don't want to inconvenience everybody else," he decides on finally, "so if they're waiting to talk to me, then they can…they can do it now and then they don't have to worry about it anymore."

"And what is it that you think they'll say?"

"…you know, what I did wrong and what not to do next time."

"And once they've told you this, they'll leave you alone?"

"Y-yeah? I mean, I think so."

"And—what? Just let you be in pain by yourself?"

He frowns. "What?"

"You are severely injured, emotionally unstable, and quite possibly the most vulnerable I've ever seen you, and you think this is the right time to be, what, reprimanded and left alone?"

This is a trap, his body screams, this is a trap, this is a trap, this is a trap.

He doesn't say anything. Yelena looks at him hard for another few moments before she's pulling away. He bites his lip to stifle a whimper at the loss of contact and choke down the wave of dread that courses through him. She's probably going to get the others. This is good.

This is good, he tries to convince himself, get it over with now, heal all at the same time without the dread of it coming later, this is good, this is—

He's so scared. He's really scared and he's going to cry and that's not going to make it any better because he has to at least seem like he's worthy of being here.

"Drink."

—what?

"Drink," Yelena repeats, holding a straw to his mouth, "you need water."

He opens trembling lips and lets her feed the straw into his mouth. The few sips of water he's able to take rinse the worst of the blood from his tongue. She doesn't look at him as she watches the level of fluid in the cup go down, pulling away when he's had almost half. It comes to rest on the side table with a clunk. She folds her hands in her lap and stares at him.

"I do not abandon people to suffer in silence. I will not leave you to endure your pain on your own," she says firmly, "that is not the kind of person I want to be anymore."

"…okay?"

"You think they will be angry at you? You think they will yell at you?" He nods. "Then I will sit here with you while it happens, and afterwards, when you are still hurting, I will be here with you."

"Aunt Spider—"

"If it makes any difference, I don't think they're going to yell at you, but if you are scared of it, then I will stay with you." She puts her hand over his. "You want them to come and do it now, right, so that you won't worry about it happening later?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I will let them know they can come see you." She reaches for her phone and types something. A moment later, she puts it away again. "They are on their way."

"Thank you."

"Mm."

The dread billows and pulses in his chest and throat. He still doesn't have blood to spare for his face, but he can gnaw on his tongue. There are footsteps and shadows outside. He suddenly squeezes Yelena's hand hard and she squeezes back.

The door opens—

"Oh, Peter—"

"Shit, kid—"

"Pete—"

"All of you move, that's my Baby Spider." Ms. Romanoff shoves her way to the front of the group and glares at Yelena, before her face softens and she's reaching out to cup his face. "Hey, Baby Spider, you doing okay?"

He manages a nod, still holding the dread in his mouth like a frog.

"You need more painkillers?" He shakes his head. She taps him lightly under the chin. "What's this face for, then?"

His eyes look to Mr. Stark, who immediately turns to the nearby screen and starts scanning it. "Readouts look good, vitals are stable. You're due for another round of meds in…about fifteen minutes."

He looks over the edge of his glasses at Peter.

"You need more now."

"N-no, Mr. Stark."

"Mr. Stark," he huffs, looking away, "you're killing me here, kid."

"Wh-what was I supposed to say?"

"Peter," Captain Rogers says with his voice all soft and low from the foot of the bed, and when he turns to look he sees that really gentle expression he sees aimed at Mr. Stark when he's not sleeping or Sergeant Barnes when they're talking about something, "we're worried about you."

"I'm sorry, Cap—Captain."

Captain Rogers comes closer, stepping around Yelena—he squeezes her hand again and she squeezes back—and sitting near his head. He reaches out and brushes some hair back from his face. "What's going on in your head right now?"

"I—I—"

Out of desperation, he makes eye contact with Yelena. She sighs. "He believes you are all angry with him and would prefer if he were to be reprimanded now, so that when you leave he can be in pain by himself and heal from it without having to worry about more pain later."

…more explicit than he would've gone with, but true.

"Oh, kid," he hears Captain Rogers murmur—and that can't be right, but there are still fingers carding gently through his hair, "we were never going to yell at you. We're not mad at you, sweetheart, we were scared, that's all. You got hurt on our watch, Peter, that's what we're worried about—we just want to make sure you're okay."

"Barton and Barnes didn't come up 'cause they didn't want to see you so hurt," Mr. Stark says, "'cause they're still pissed at themselves for letting it happen. Wilson's off with Aunt May getting your stuff so you can stay here for the next few weeks."

"B-but—"

He cuts himself off with a truly pitiful sound when Ms. Romanoff leans in and kisses his forehead. He distantly registers the sound of winces and muffled curses but he's too busy not being able to think.

"I will never be mad at you for being scared, Baby Spider," she whispers, "and I won't leave you in pain. You're my Baby Spider, Peter."

"You're not—you're not mad?"

"No, Peter."

"You won't yell at me?"

"We won't yell at you," Captain Rogers murmurs, ruffling his hair, "you're safe, sweetheart."

"And we're not just gonna let you be in pain." Mr. Stark presses a button and Peter's body sags in relief as something floods his system. "We don't leave people behind."

"See, Baby Spider?" Yelena squeezes his hand again. "You're not going to be abandoned to pain here. If you're hurt, you tell us, and then we take care of you."

"That's right."

…well, now he feels like an idiot for assuming and making them feel bad that he assumed. And now he's definitely going to start crying because he doesn't know what to do now and crying sounds like a good idea.

"Shh," he hears a gentle voice murmur as a warm hand rests lightly on his injured stomach, "shh, sweetheart, it's okay, let it out."

"Move over, sit down. There, that's better. We're not leaving, kid, you're gonna be okay. FRIDAY, can you—?"

"Already on it, boss."

Another kiss—at least he thinks that's what it is. "Shh, Baby Spider, we're right here. You're safe."

Everything hurts. Everything hurts and that's…that's okay. Because there's a warm hand in his hair and a gentle voice in his ear. There's a kiss on his forehead and a whisper against his temple. There's a shadow on the bed and a watchful eye on the machines keeping him stable. There's a hand in his and a promise filling the room.

You will not be abandoned to pain. We will take care of you.

[feindrush]

WELCOME TO FEINDRUUSH

In this blog you get to follow along with the creation character designs and story of FeindRuush I hope to get a following who gets to be a fan of this story! if you follow me you get to technically say you be a day one!! I'm SlothArt and that's what I use to copyright my art so yea!

First things first let's start off with this

What's FeindRuush?

FiendRuush is a story via my creation. It takes place in a world similar to ours but different in many ways. This universe holds 2 realms inside of its posoto realm (this story version of heaven) and the void realm (this world version of hell), both containing magic. Soon, these 2 realms somehow cracked and leaked magic out. Because of this many people gained that magic to use either positive or negative magic depending on the type of person you are some could use both but that's rare These people who could use this magic are called

THE ENCHANTED ONES

These people gained many different types of abilities across the board some could use telekinesis some could control fire others could cause an explosion of whatever they touched

But all wasent good as because of this crack of the 2 realms demons and angles split out causing wars and such making many areas unsafe to live some demons find there way into community's to eat humans to become more powerful by absorbing there soul but not all is lost when demons come people call "DEMON DEALERS" these guys kill demons for money using magic they gained ussaly or its demons who kill other demons for money not all demons are bad in this world some were able to live in..well not harmony with humans but they tolerate each other the demons who are bad are the ones who are crave power deeply or such it's unknown how these demons are less..killy unlike other demons theory's say that it might be because these demons are connected to angels but who knows??? >W>

CHARACTERS

DISCLAIMER: all these characters are ever changing and can change in design and will expand in the future

The characters we have are:

Ichress(goggles kid) age: 21

Spidra: the centipede made scientists age: 45

Abyss: Con man demon and the person who adopted ichress age: 46

Shrimpy: pistol shrimp guard age: 28

Flego: ichress best friend and fire demon frog age: 23

Lucifer: main/major villain age: idk lol

Iris: Accountant/past powerful demon who was turned into a little guy age: a few million year old

Ambro: the deer and medic of the group and angel age: 200 years old

(more coming)

WHAT INSPIRED THIS STORY!?!?

A few big inspirations for this story is many animes a few obvious but some are not some like Jujutsu Kaisen, Mob psycho 100,Dandadan but also stuff like Greek and Norse mythology story's and a lot of old cryptids!!

WHATS YOUR PLAN WITH THIS BLOG?

To put it simply I Wana build a community big enough to enjoy my story I have more story in the world but this is the first blog I make got a story I'm trying to attract as many fans as I can to enjoy what I make!

WHO IS THIS STORY FOR:

This story is for people who enjoy stuff like Jujutsu Kaisen,Dandadan,mob psycho 100 and basically people who like action but with drama and comedy sprinkled in!!

ARE YOU OK WITH SHIP,FANART AND HEADCANNONS AND OC X CANNON??

OMG YES I AAAM I would love to see who you guys ship these characters with as long as you all don't hurt each other it's all fine! Enjoy my story I don't mind if you ship a OC with them or if you make fanart and headcannons! Enjoy what you Wana do aslong as you don't hurt others!

The only thing you can't ship is Ichress and abyss because abyss is Ichress "brother"

JUST NO NSFW!!!!

DISCLAIMER: 🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨 THIS STORY IS NOT MADE FOR KIDS UNDER 14 this story has blood talks about very very heavy topics has smoking and alcohol drinking