#maybe i'll do this for other things as well?

[indexthejester]

01: meh I think. Getting better I suppose.

02: My friend, we say it when ending calls

03: far too much. Sometimes it hits me like a bullet to the chest. Feels like the metal ball in my brain pinballs into a bumper that gives negative points.

04: no definitely not <- she lied

05: single and looking for friends which may turn into queerplatonic relations. Not that I'm crossing my fingers.

06: slowly and calmly enough to analyze the way it feels to die, but not too peacefully that it's otherwise uninteresting.

07: Zaxby's chicken strips

08: tried a few. Not my thing. Except tennis, I liked that one. Not sure if snowboarding counts but I like that too.

09: Yes I do it sucks.

10: never had one, unless wrestling counts

11: I like many people. I love them too. I suppose I have a crush on people that I relate too, especially if I find them interesting. I want to know every part of them intimately. To drink it all in.

12: yes

13: I don't think so, I try not to. I don't think it's very useful for solving my or the world's problems, and it makes me feel pretty miserable in the process.

14: probably somewhat, I'm pretty lonely most of the time so yeah almost always. I work and live better when I'm with someone I like. Whether talking or just present in the same "space".

15: 2 family dogs, one day I'll move out and get a cat probably. Cats are great.

16: chill, minus the usual slight heartburn. Just got our of the shower and am lying in bed, getting messages from a new friend, living well.

17: no, very out of left field question

18: not really. I find them interesting though. They either look like insects or weirdly mammalian despite being neither. Weird that scorpions are more closely related.

19: nah there's nothing for me back there.

20: god I wish

21: talk to a friend and life planning

22: no, I mean I'm good with them and it's very fulfilling I just find it stressful. Right now I have so much I want to do I can't see myself adopting and settling down but maybe idk.

23: 2 for earrings

24: Math and English I suppose. Programming too if college counts

25: Maybe. Not at the moment. In recent past, it was fun to hang out at the lgbtq center in college. Sucks that I'm stuck at home now.

26: more social interaction. I may be anxious about how I reply or generally talk through textual messaging, but it makes me feel all comfy inside :3 also sleep because it is 2:36am for me rn.

27: idk

28: no

29: never had one

30: eye strain and heart burn and social anxiety.

31: I think so. I don't think it's for me to say, I try to love myself at least, though it's really hard.

32: magenta, or some other combo of purple and red. Hence the Melantha pfp. Also she's autistic.

33: yes, very much so

34: can't remember. The last one I remember was very sexual which is unusual for me.

35: cried on a call with a friend of mine I think. Just scared of the state the world's in.

36: I don't know, I don't know if I've had to

37: depends on the person I guess. Sometimes you can't do either. Just gotta learn to live with what happened.

38: So far absolutely not. But in the past 4 days I've had a lot of fun being alive. It is fun to make new friends and connect with people and have fun.

39: excluding my parents it hasn't happened

40: yes

51: chicken alphredo and chicken cordon bleu

52: I don't believe in fate, but I do believe in causality, to an extent.

53: brush my teeth I think. Maybe watch a youtube video or masterbate, though I usually do the latter as I'm falling asleep so I'm not sure if it counts.

54: I'm sure you could invent some crazy scenario where it is, but in general I think betraying your partner's trust is just about the worst thing you can do in a relationship.

55: I try not to be.

56: 0

57: when I am vulnerable and comfortable, I am filled to bursting with love for the world and everything in it. So if "true" means "pure unfiltered" then maybe yeah. Me x The Universe. Me x All My Friends.

58: bright but not too bright, grey skies, no visavle sun, chill in the air. Can move around without sweating buckets.

59: YYYYYYYEEEEEEEEESSSSSSS

60: very much so someday. Already planning it out.

61: never had it happen to me though it seems pretty boring standard. Call me your owner, handler, mad scientist, something interesting.

62: a loving community and the ability to freely create art

63: yeah obviously

64: yeah I'm too old for that it's weird

65: what are we role-playing now? I don't know, depends on the context. (Treating "sex" as "gender" for these questions btw.)

66: no, I don't. I wouldn't call any of my friends men.

67: My father but I honestly wonder if he's not a little trans

68: like a really deep conversation? Uhh definitely @thatweirdyellowrat. Haven't felt that much mental clarity after a conversation in a long time. I would not be as happy or geared to make new friends if not for that.

69: Fuck no.

70: I think so yeah, more than one actually. Which is saying something because I value my life a lot.

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[27spoons]

yapping yapping to you dudeeee. have you seen how nat treated mari's brat ass (and some of shauna's, too)? i was like: panties? where? *inserts that meme of an emoji with a dangling lingerie* like, the way her care and natural protective instincts kick in, even though others might give two fucks about her 😭😭 my baby, come here, i'll take care of youuuuu imagining a brat!reader making nat's days a living hell, but she can't possibly lash out, so she puts reader into a time-out (house arrest tf), or even brings them their portion of the food into their hut, ending up in nat "teaching reader" how to behave 😇 yuk, an innocent lesson

what if i said i wanted to be put in my place. what then. what if i said i need to piss nat off until she snaps at me, realises that i liked it, and then does it again?

nsfw blurb / smut / gn!afab!reader / porn w some plot / self-indulgent / not proofread we die like the cabin at the end of s2/ wc: 1260

natalie stands outside your shelter, the fresh scent of damp earth and cool spring air brushing past. the spring out here is deceptive—warmer than the cruel winter was but still bitter in the mornings and evenings. the soft hum of insects punctuate the silence that settles in the dim light of the evening.

inside, you restlessly lay on your makeshift bedroll, leg bouncing as you trace the light strips that filter through the gaps in your structure with your eyes. when she finally steps in—carrying a wooden bowl of stew—you glance up with a cocky grin that you already know nat will not like.

"well, well." you drawl, sitting up. "The Queen herself. To what do I owe the pleasure on this fine evening?"

nat doesn't bite. she places the bowl on the tree stump in front of you unceremoniously. "dinner," she says simply, straightening and crossing her arms.

"wow, room service?" you let out a low whistle, leaning back and lacing your fingers behind your head. "i gotta say, i'm kinda liking this whole 'house arrest' thing, you know? the perks are nice." a beat, "actually, is it too much to ask, or could i get some dessert?"

her jaw clenches, but she manages to keep her voice in check. "you seriously think this is funny?"

"i mean... yeah." you shrug. "let's be real, nat. you're supposed to be running this place or whatever, but here you are, babysitting me." you groan and sit back up, "doesn't really scream..." a beat as you feign thought, "fearsome leader, you know?"

nat's eyes narrow, and you swear you can feel the frustration radiating off of her. the distant sounds of the wilderness around you seems to grow at the sudden tension, filling the space between you two. "you really wanna test how far i'll go?"

your grin falters slightly, but you can't deny the subtle rush that builds inside of you at the way her voice lowers. "what are you gonna do? give me another stern talking-to?"

she steps closer, her worn combat boots crunching against the forest floor. she leans down just enough to meet your gaze, her voice shifting to that tone she knows gets you weak. “no. talking doesn’t seem to work with you.”

before you can fire back a retort, she's grabbing your jaw with her right hand and squeezing. "you aren't leaving this hut until i say so, and honestly?" her voice lowers further, "i don't think you deserve to leave after all this shit you've pulled, do you?"

you stare up at her, unsure if you're supposed to be feeling afraid, aroused, or both."uh…" you blink a few times, "wow, nat. you really got the whole… 'scary leader' thing down. i'm shaking in my boots."

a scoff leaves her lips, but she doesn't visibly react further to your sarcasm. "you can joke all you want, yeah? but we both know you'll listen to what i say. because if you don't…" her eyes flash down to your lips for a moment, "well, they don't last very long."

your stomach twists, but not because you're scared. well, maybe a little. but mostly? well, mostly you're just aroused.

and nat knows, if the way she smirks is any indication. "yeah. you know that, don't you?" her voice carries a teasing lilt that does unpleasant (but not unwelcome) things to your insides. "all you really want is to be put in your place." she grips your jaw a little tighter, "open your mouth more."

you do. your lips part on command, and you're rewarded with nat spitting into your mouth slowly. "close. don't swallow." you do as she asks, of course. there's no way she doesn't know you're ruining your underwear right about now. 

you swear you haven't taken a breath in a million years as she looks down at you, eyes sharp and calculating. "good. swallow." you comply, maintaining eye contact, then open your mouth to show her that you listen.

nat grins. "look at you. you can listen." 

she gives you a firm shove back onto your bedroll and follows you down. "but i think i still need to prove my point." 

one of her hands slides underneath the waistband to your pants without hesitation, and it takes everything in her to not make a sound of satisfaction at how wet you are already. "jesus. already?" she manages, the words almost coming out in a whine and breaking this facade of control. "you're fucking soaked."

"can't help it." you reply immediately, already feeling the fight in you leave the second she gets her hands on you, "it's you. you do this to me." you're already clenching around nothing, staring up at nat's form over your body with an expression of pure want. "please."

the girl almost scoffs at how quick you get to begging, considering it usually takes far longer to break you down. "damn. that was fast. you a little desperate?"

"fuck you—" you try and start, but your protests are quickly cut off with a sudden push of her forefinger into your cunt. "oh—"

"that's what i thought." she grins, starting to move her finger without giving you time to get used to the intrusion. "all talk and no game, yeah? not so big once someone actually starts taking charge."

your fingers dig into the soil around your bedroll, knowing better than to grab onto her right now. "that's not fair—"

another finger. "nothing is fucking fair." she bites, leaning down closer to your face, "we're trapped in the middle of goddamn nowhere, and you're talking to me about fair?" a harsh scoff leaves her lips as she begins pumping her fingers faster, "life isn't fucking fair."

you'd make a smart reply to that if you could, but it's sort of hard to do when her fingers are ruthlessly fucking in and out of you, your wetness soaking into the fabric of your underwear. "already so worked up." she tsks, "bet i could give you a third finger right now and you'd—" 

she does.

three fingers deep, fingers curling in and out of your pussy with a passion that only nat can possess, you groan and throw your head back. 

nat slaps her free hand over your mouth with a hiss, "jesus! do you want them to hear what's going on in here?" her fingers never cease in their actions as her gaze flicks to the entrance for a moment, watching to make sure no one is about to walk in on you two. "shit, i would never hear the end of this…" she murmurs before returning her gaze to you, hardening it slightly. "should have known you wouldn't be able to keep quiet." 

she grinds her palm against your clit with every crook of her fingers, and you can barely keep your eyes open at the harsh movements she fucks you with—pain and pleasure blurring together somewhere along the way. 

her breath ghosts over your ear as she leans down, and you can feel her smirk. "you're gonna come for me, and when you do, it's gonna happen again." you whine, and she chuckles lowly in response. "and again. until i fucking decide that you've finally understood how to listen to fucking orders."you stare up at her with wide eyes when she pulls her face back slightly, and nat's grin only widens further. "and we both know you have a hard time following orders." her fingers find that one spot, and you swear you see stars—"so i think it's gonna be a long night."

[essycogany]

Sonic And Amy Are A Unique Couple

This is a quick Sonamy rant /ramble session. With a few added clarifications too. Enjoy!

This couple is more unique than you’d think. It’s cool if anyone disagrees. I'm all for a polite debate and respect your opinion. But if you're willing to hear me out, I'll be willing to explain myself as clearly as possible. Great? Awesome! Let’s get started!

Amy doesn't want to change Sonic. I will scream this until I'm not able to speak any more that Amy loves Sonic for who he is. She always has but it wasn't until IDW that she expressed it out loud. Still one of my favorite moments between them.

Does that make their relationship unique? Not really. What makes their relationship unique is what Amy loves about Sonic is kind of the reason they're not a couple yet. Sonic is an ongoing force that can’t be stopped or changed. Of course, he’ll allow someone to join him on a race, but he still keeps going. Not to say Sonic won’t stop to smell the roses (pun not intended) but he’ll do it on his own time. Amy always likes to take advantage of those moments and best of all, Sonic doesn’t mind. Even during their old chases, he’d slow down for her. Says a lot about the connection they have but there’s more

Their chemistry is…something for lack of a better term. Their back and forth is so interesting to me. Sonic does like Amy back. Notable examples here but to put it shortly, Sonic doesn’t know what he’s doing when it comes to romance. Sometimes he’s not into it and other times he’s chill. Sometimes Amy is ecstatic and other times she's bashful. I'm looking at you Sonic X.

Every time Amy’s occupied, is when Sonic wants her the most. Amy on the other hand wants Sonic to enjoy his freedom. Neither of them stops to think about how maybe they can have it both ways.

I'll also mention romance isn’t about “being tied down.” That paints romance as if it’s some kind of chain being rapt around your neck or being forced to be with the person. That is not romance. It’s keeping someone hostage. Something Amy would not do. Every time she’d joke around about marrying him Sonic didn’t take it seriously. Heroes included.

Sonic’s line in Heros: “Amy, knock it off. There's no time to play!” Dude knows Amy was messing with him. She was written to be girly, childish, adventurous, and cartoony. No, it wasn’t always executed well. Hello, Sonic Freeriders Amy! But I think this scene summons it up the best.

Important thing to mention as well is Sonic is an outspoken and honest character who rarely lies. It’s either you get the truth or you get nothing. He’s not the type to spare people’s feelings either, so if he had a problem with Amy in the past, he’d tell her directly. I do think she'd also stop if he genuinely told her to. The last thing Amy would want is to tarnish their friendship because of her actions. This loyal girl is so sweet.

Not to mention this is a popular trope in Japan too. The trope was what their relationship was based on.

Back to my original point Sonic and Amy aren’t a traditional couple. That’s a good thing. If they became canon their relationship wouldn’t change if they got together, but also they don’t need labels either. Romance isn’t or shouldn’t be a burden on you. That’s not how love works and that’s not what Sonic believes Amy to be. If that’s the case he wouldn’t be friends with her. Whether you ship Sonic with Amy, someone else, or no one, there should be no doubt Sonic values her friendship.

I’ll also add that Amy is just as up for an adventure as Sonic is. It’s why she loves him so much. They’re a power couple and love going out to travel, so there’s no staying in one place for these two.

In Sonic Adventure 2 you can tell Amy’s intuition when it comes to Sonic. Close to the end, she saw him looking a bit down and noticed his mood shifting a bit. “What’s the matter, Sonic?” “Oh, it’s nothing.” She knows him so well. I don't know what connection they run on but it’s inspiring.

These two don’t have a typical girl/boy relationship. I know some people say, “Well, why can't Sonic and Amy stay friends? Not every male and female relationship needs to be romantic.” You're 100% correct. Here are some examples.

The difference between other relationships is that Amy was created to be a Minnie to Sonic’s Mickey. Which is why these two are treated differently compared to others. Including in merch. There are more examples but I digress. The point is this specific pair is always going to have nuance even if they’re only friends. It doesn’t stop until Amy doesn’t love Sonic and even if it shouldn’t define her, it should still be a part of her. She might work without romance, but we already have other amazing female characters for that.

No one’s obligated to ship them because of this of course. Again, your opinion is still valid, and I will always stick to that point.

Last but not least is their friendship (or situationship) as a whole.

The funny thing is their friendship is what makes their romance the most compelling. The appeal to Sonic and Amy’s dynamic is how much platonic energy they have. Romance doesn’t always mean you need to be lovey-dovey. With Sonamy it’s their powerful friendship that makes the (somewhat not platonic) interactions memorable. You don’t have to choose romantic or platonic. It can be both. I wouldn't be a Sonamy fan if I didn't think their relationship was plain. I'm here because of how different they are.

And I love them to bits. Look at this panel and tell me it isn't running with situationship fuel.

Another fun detail is in recent years despite knowing Amy still loves him, Sonic hugs her back. Even the moments in Sonic X he carries her are moments he offers to. Even when it wasn't necessary.

Can’t forget about the recent asking Amy out to a dinner panel in IDW. He's never done that before. There's a familiarity between the two of them however you look at it. I LOVE them for it.

His moments of genuinely being excited to see her are not due to some development but because Sonic’s passion for Amy has noticeably increased. Why am I bringing these up? It’s because one thing that hasn’t been talked about when it comes to romance is actions. Sure, Sonic doesn't fully confess his feelings to her outwardly. But why do you have to be obvious and in people’s face when it comes to loving someone? In Japan, love is mostly shown through what you do more than what you say. That stuff can happen there but it doesn't always have to. The “Sharing an Umbrella, Amy,” line in Frontiers carries a lot more weight when you think about the implications.

Please read this post by @egalitarian-tomboy if you're interested in the implications of Sonamy in Frontiers.

The up-to-interpretation view of whatever they have together is the main reason I and so many people ship them. It’s not the fact that they are close, but the progression of their closeness. To make a long story short, the appeal of Sonamy is the fact that they don’t have to be traditionally romantic to be an interesting couple. Amy represents expressive love and Sonic represents emotional love.

Stay creative! 💜

[oneofstarkskids]

girl back home

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 1822 (new record?? 🤭)

genre: a lil bit of everything, but mostly fluff. you know.

warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR CAPTAIN AMERICA: BRAVE NEW WORLD ‼️

It was already February, and you were long overdue for some sunshine. The snow is always beautiful, especially with twinkling lights reflecting off of it. But those lights are gone now, and all you're left with is this chill to your bones.

You cling tightly to Bucky's arm, watching your steps carefully. "You okay?" He asks with a pink nose.

You can't speak without your jaw shaking violently, so you simply nod.

"I told ya' you should've brought gloves," he says with a know-it-all essence. The low temperatures must've been slowly freezing your brain cells because you didn't even make a snide remark.

The two of you finally reach your apartment building and make your way up to your floor. As soon as you're in the door, he takes your coat for you. "And you wanted ice cream," he snickers before hanging the coats and starting on a pot of coffee.

"I'll admit, I've had better ideas," you say before hurrying over to the messy pile of blankets on the couch, desperate for warmth.

After a few moments behind the counter, he walks over carrying your favorite mug. The one with the little yellow duck on it.

"Here ya' go, doll."

You give him a grateful peck on the cheek and grab the mug, careful not to burn yourself.

He moves to scooch in close to you, but his phone rings right on que. He sighs before pulling it out of his back pocket, "Hello?"

There's a pause and Bucky's face falls. "Not really a good time," he says with annoyance.

After a much longer pause, he nods as if the person on the other end can see him. "Alright, I'll be there."

He takes the phone away from his ear and hangs up. You give him that look.

"They're calling me into Washington. They want to have another meeting about the whole congress thing." Bucky trails off.

You nod, "Well, when do you leave?"

"Tonight."

The word hangs in the air for a moment as both of you contemplate the next move.

"And when are you supposed to be back?" You asked.

Bucky gave you an apologetic smile, "Valentine's Day."

You tried not to overreact. This was his job. It was important to him, and you wanted to be supportive. Besides, it wasn't like Valentine's Day was any more special than the other days when you got to spend your entire life with the man you loved.

"That's okay! We can work with that, we'll just celebrate later that night. Dinner, maybe?" You tried to be optimistic.

Bucky's demeanor changed, "You know, that's what I love about you?" He set his mug down on the coffee table and leaned over you.

"Oh, really?" You asked with the biggest grin.

"Mhm," he placed a soft kiss on your jawline.

You bit your lip to keep from grinning, "What else do you love about me?"

And Bucky did leave that night, with a dazed look and smirk on his lips. If that was how you said goodbye, he couldn't wait to see how you welcomed him back.

He kept in touch with you the entire time he was in Washington. Phone calls, FaceTime, endless texting. It was only for a couple days, but he never wanted to go a minute without hearing your voice.

But the plane ride there. It was hell. Not being able to see your eyes light up. Not being able to kiss those perfect lips. The guilt of leaving you behind began to weigh him down. Another fight he couldn't avoid.

The only moment he got a break from his self loathing was when he visited Sam. "Hey, buddy." The two patted each other on the backs.

"Got a knack for getting yourself in trouble don't you, Sam?" Bucky teased.

Sam raised an eyebrow, "If I recall, a lot of the trouble I've gotten into has been on your behalf."

Bucky laughed and nodded his head as if to say "touché".

"How's the girl," Sam asks, his smile reflecting his fondness for you.

Your beautiful boy just grins from ear to ear, "She's great. She's always great."

"Would you look at that," Sam says. "The man who never smiles just can't seem to stop."

Bucky shakes his head, still the flicker of a smile on his face, "She makes me...a better man."

Sam looks down at the ground. Grappling with his thoughts.

Bucky notices and turns to him.

"None of this," he gestures to Joaquin in the hospital bed, struggling to maintain stability, "is your fault."

"I don't know, Buck. I'm not cut out for this," Sam said. It wasn't something Bucky hadn't heard before. He knew his friend had always dealt with feeling unworthy of Steve's title.

"This shield was made for you, just as much as it was made for Steve. He wouldn't have given it to you if he didn't believe that himself," Bucky reassured him.

Sam let it sink in for a minute before cocking his head towards Bucky, "Damn. We're doing pep talks now?"

Bucky let out a laugh that was partially a scoff. He couldn't catch a break. "I meant it, Samuel. This was my last day here, and I had to make sure you knew that before I left."

Sam nodded, "Thank you, Bucky."

"I love you, Buddy." The blue eyed man said back.

"Now, I've got a plane to catch and a girl back home to surprise," He said with a skip to his step.

Sam watched him leave before muttering under his breath, "Damn soldier's gone soft."

The airport was packed with people. Long lines wrapped through the hallways. Bucky tried to push his way through. Tried to get an answer.

"What's going on?"

A stranger turned around, "They're delaying all the flights. Something about a security issue nearby."

Bucky found a group of people crowded around a television and squeezed in to get a better view. "President Ross reportedly transformed into what people are already calling 'Red Hulk' after massive White House meltdown." Footage flashed across the screen of what was indeed a cherry tomato colored Hulk surrounded by a burning white house.

The growl that erupted from the beast vibrated the speakers. Bucky's shoulders dropped in disappointment as he picked up the phone to call you.

You answered almost instantly, "Buck?" Your voice was weak with worry and it sounded like you were already expecting bad news.

"The flights are delayed, doll. Turn on the news," Bucky said.

"I've seen it," You replied softly.

"I don't know how long-" Bucky started but you cut him off. "Hey, don't worry about that. Just, get home safely. Please."

Bucky swallowed, "I will."

"I love you, James."

"I-" The line went dead. He quickly checked the phone to see what had happened. NO SERVICE.

Bucky was desperate to find a way back to you.

Meanwhile, Sam was getting his ass kicked by a giant blood clot. "Ross, listen to me. You know this place. You used to go here all the time with, Betty."

The creature that was once the president growled in his face.

"Alright, that didn't work."

Sam dove behind a car, narrowly avoiding another blow from the hell hulk. "You don't want to talk it out. Fine by me," Sam rolled away from the car just as the hulk smashed the gas tank.

The explosive vehicle flew towards the now Captain America, and with his improved vibranium wings from the Wakandan's he was able to slice the car in half.

His victory was short lived as the hulk grabbed him by the wing and ripped it off. Sam fell to his knees, feeling like he'd lost the war. At that moment, a spray of bullets bounced off of the angry monster's back. It turned around, focusing it's deep red eyes on the all too familiar Winter Soldier.

Sam was now an afterthought as the Red Hulk raced towards Bucky. The soldiers vibranium fist made a loud clank as it collided with the much larger one.

The high pitched whip of metal rang through the air and Sam's shield dug into the President's back. Bucky smiled like a proud father.

Together, Sam and Bucky were able to keep the hulk away from civilians and wear him out until backup arrived. But it was the memory of his daughter and the drive to be a better man that transformed his outer appearance as well.

Bucky was slouched against a police car as paramedics carried the President away. "What happened to the girl back home thing?" Sam walked over to him.

"Couldn't catch my flight. Besides, I figured you needed me more." Bucky said.

"Stop tryna butter me up," Sam shook his head. "I'll get you on a private jet, but you owe me."

Bucky extended his fist, starting off their handshake. "Take care, pal."

Sam finished it off, "Same time next week?"

You were curled up on the couch, exactly where Bucky had left you. It was Valentine's Day, and your husband was off to God knows where probably risking his life.

And the only thing you could do about it was sit here and wait. With a box of chocolates. And a few Ryan Gosling movies.

Then, you heard the rattling of a key in the door. It was so unexpected that you almost considered it had just been people that came to take you away.

Bucky pushed the door open, dropping his heavy duffel bags and extending his arms to you. You quickly jumped up, chocolates flying, and ran over to him.

The contrast between being out in the cold and now being in your warm embrace was a shock to Bucky's system.

He smelled like ash and sweat, but underneath that he smelled like him.

"I thought-" Your eyes involuntarily began to tear up.

He cupped your face in his hands and looked into your eyes with an intensity that made you blush, "I couldn't leave my best girl alone on Valentine's Day."

Your heart skipped a few beats and your face was permanently carved into a smile.

"Oh, almost forgot." He reaches into his pocket.

When he held out the palm of his hand, a silver chain with the letter B dangling from the end of it replaced the empty space.

"Bucky," you said, wiping away more tears to no avail. It was so much more than jewelry to you. It was proof that time after time, Bucky would find a way. That you were his priority and that would never change.

"It's beautiful."

He unclasped the necklace before gently turning you around to put it on you. "For the most beautiful girl," he said when he was done.

You turned around and kissed him, combing your hands through his hair. He looked into your eyes, feeling overwhelmed with joy.

"I've got something for you too," you smirked.

"You do?" He asked knowingly, kicking the door closed behind him.

"Mhm," you pulled him closer by his shirt. You were going to do more than just tell him how much you missed him.

[ailelie]

I'll have to consider a Google break-up. But this reminds me how I did just go through separation with Microsoft 365.

My very first step was listing out all the places where I use Microsoft and thinking through what my requirements were for replacing them. OneDrive, for the longest time, was my sticking point. This program has saved me twice now when I've had computer issues. I needed something that would keep copies of my files in the cloud, connect with multiple folders, sync instantly, and connect with my phone. I also wanted to pay no more than I was already paying for Microsoft 365. Finally, it had to be easy to use.

For the Office Suite, I just needed something that could open and edit my Microsoft files and have similar features. I rarely use Word/Excel/etc outside of work, though that may change if I do breakup with Google (I use Google Sheets for myriad things).

OneDrive

To replace the online drive and sync, I've switched to pCloud. It isn't free, though. It costs $50-60/year for 500GB (and about a $100 for 2T).

Steps for switching:

Make sure you have downloaded everything from OneDrive to your computer. Most of your files actually live in the cloud and you'll lose access to them when you uninstall OneDrive (note: they'll still be online).

Move all of your files into your User directory or somewhere else on your computer that isn't your OneDrive folder. (Learn from my mistakes...)

Uninstall OneDrive.

Go through your files and delete all of your OneDrive folders.

Download and install pCloud and follow their directions.

(Note: pCloud does have a OneDrive import feature, but I did not use that and I do not know how well it supports uninstalling OneDrive afterward.)

I also have pCloud on my phone now. I don't know if I just have rosy glasses on, but it feels nicer than the OneDrive app.

(Note: I do not rec NextCloud. I tried it and was met with nothing but pure frustration. Plus, for basic sync, I learned I had to download another program/extension, but then it was super unclear on how to install that extra bit and etc etc etc.)

ETA: OneDrive will still exist in some pretty critical default filepaths (e.g., your desktop folder). I followed this to fix it in my registry.

Office Suite

I've downloaded LibreOffice (free!)for this. If your Calc is an utter glacier when you open it, look up how to check the "Force Skia software rendering" box. That fixed the issue for me.

If you prefer ribbons over menus, there is a view option for that, too.

I am also currently trialing Typora, which costs $15 and is beautiful. It is a Markdown editor in which your Markdown is instantly rendered.

Other Microsoft Apps

I don't tend to use other Microsoft apps much outside of work. If I used a desktop email client, I'd probably go back to Thunderbird, which I used back in college.

As for OneNote, I'm not sure. Obsidian, which I use for my worldbook for my current story, is fantastic, but I've not tried to have different projects on it at once.

For teams, there's Slack and Discord. For the Sharepoint side of teams, maybe Box, Basecamp, or Confluence? I've not really looked into this because I don't use Teams in my non-work life and there is a 0% chance my workplace transitions away from Teams and Sharepoint anytime soon.

For Notepad, Notepad++ has always been one of the first programs I download to new computers. It is stellar.

For other apps, I'm already using alternatives (e.g., VLC Media Player, Firefox, WonderShare) or they aren't programs I even knew existed (e.g., Journal?, Family?). A few, though, just feel like system tools (e.g., Snipping Tool, Calculator).

Of course, there is the Linux of it all.

I have considered linux before. I have even tried linux (Ubuntu) before.

Most of what I use these days will work with Linux, with one major and rather important-to-me exception: Scrivener.

I am yet to find a single other application I like half as well as Scrivener.

Just in time for Valentine’s Day... 💔 

Ready to break up with Google?

So are we!

We’ve rounded up a bunch of privacy-centric alternatives for everything Google.

Check out the full list over on the blog!

- The Ellipsus Team xo

[evilminji]

Weird/Unusual Crossover time?

Weird/unusual crossover time! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ (oh shit~! She's back on her billshit!) (That's RIGHT! Nothing is sacred and NO ONE IS SAFE!)

ANYWAYS~

Danny Phantom. Cultivation Novels (my current obsession). A match made in hell? Or an exciting new adventure‽ Cause like... the Zone DOES go EVERYWHERE, right? Infinite means Infinite means "Literally Without End" Infinite.

As in, Forever.

You COULD, in fact, pick a direction and just... keep going. Forever. For always. Without end or limits. The Zone is not just "really, REALLY big and we need a word your mind could comprehend." Not "as big as a galaxy or the known universe". It is? On a scale that even GODS can not comprehend.

The place GODS go to die. A place they are BORN from. The great primordial soup where universe end and begin anew. Where the cracks are glued backed together, and the souls of the living flow in and out. Endless scraps of fabric, realities, atop a churning sea of green. Keeping everything even.

After all... you can't CREATE a soul. They got to come from SOMEWHERE. Where do you THINK they arrive from? When populations grow? Thin air‽

But... ah~, there in lays the rub, doesn't it? Would knowing the Zone? Knowing SOME of it's mysteries and machinations (for NO ONE, not even all the Ancients COMBINED, can ever claim to understand even a fraction of them all.) mean that Danny??? Was powerful in a Cultivation reality?

He's certainly a powerful GHOST.

But?? They FIGHT ghosts all the time. Wouldn't he be WEAKER and more in danger? As they try to hell the restless spirit move on? Not knowing he is balanced between life and death? They could very well kill him.

Which, given the moral standards of the Realm? Would NOT be viewed as a bad thing.

But! On the OTHER hand?

He is a ZONE ghost. Not a simple spirit. Far beyond what they are used to dealing with. Arguably? ASCENDANT. From a higher plane of existence. A lower one. Several steps to the side. He is, for all intents and purposes, shrimp colors to the human eye. The color blue to a blind man. An orb to the two dimensional.

CAN he even interact with the world's cultivation systems? Does it recognize him as a god? A dead man? Some sort of ascendant dead god?

Something... Not Right™

Yet still utterly natural? Clearly not meant to be here. Yet... not wicked. Granted, not, perhaps, benevolent. But...

Because what IS he? Is he a boy? A man? A corpse? Immortal, perhaps? Is this creature a demon? The resentful dead? They DONT KNOW! It... probably scares a lot of them. Makes some of them think he is a test. Probably makes OTHERS wanna fight (friend? Hey! New friend!).

And like? Why would Danny even BE there? He's already immortal. The swords are pretty cool... but he has Fenton tech.

So, WHY?

I propose?

His well know Anger Issues. His fear of becoming Dan. He's heard meditation is good for shit like that, right? Mindfulness and stuff. Sam recommended it. And? They were watching Fantasy Kung-fu 17, "bamboo monks of vengeance" (now with more slow motion aerial battles). So he was like? Hmmmm... those misty valleys and mountains shots DO looks relaxing... I could go camping...

Maybe find a mysterious old kung-fu monk? Is that what they are? Tucker. Tucker! What's the name of this genre again? Xanxia. Yeah. That! I'll do the whole "live, laugh, love. Hot girl, cultivation summer" thing! That'll fix my shit! This is a GREAT idea!

Thus? Danny. Terrorizing some poor Xanxia Cultivation world with his Zone Ghostiness. Pretending to be a human... very, VERY badly. Yes, hello Fellow Locals! It is him! Average Human Man! Take me to your *checks notes* Cultivation Sect! *smiles with far too many teeth*

#nailedit he's gonna get SUCH a good job at blending in! A thing that is both real and possible to achieve!

@babbling-babull @legitimatesatanspawn @mayfay @hdgnj @spidori @the-witchhunter @leftnotright @lolottes

[sunflower1experiment]

The Doctor, will See You

Risk

It was quiet, you were quiet, it made him uncomfortable when you would acknowledge him with a nod and then walk past. Tending to the children, was it the fact that you lost this child or maybe you had finally accepted your fate. Whatever the plan was it was also affecting the toys too, Leith was less strict and more patient but the knowledge that you weren't actively seeking any forms of social bond made him worry. "Can you talk to me?"

Stella begs while holding your hand, you chuckle sadly. "No, stop trying and just work. Please."

Work, silence, feed, care, work, silence.....feed...?

Doey's neck stretches across his cell and ate some of the fruit you placed down, "You're feeding us? Why?" This was Kevin talking, the children were weary. You simply shake your head, "I'm doing this to tell you to live, keep rebelling, you're all smart and I...I'm doing what I can before I accept everything."

The boys stare at you through Doey, "What do you mean? Your voice isn't gentle, so why?"

"Kevin, Matthew, Jack...Doey. I don't think Harley or Prototype are good. So, I want you to take care of the children if things get...tense, you don't have to do it if you don't want to. Every choice you make. Make sure to forgive yourself, okay? You're good kids." Doey flinches when you place one more food into his hand.

It was, colorful, like him a pretty fruit with colors and a variety of different tastes. "Peach..." He ate it curiously, relishing the different essences of sweetness.

Catnap was well difficult to speak with, you knew he held high expectations for Prototype and also didn't see you as anything other than a scientist, an adult. One that betrayed him, the food placed down was smacked away, "It's okay. You have every right to be angry."

He sneers at your words, just because you were "one of the good ones"

"You are no better, you are a scientist, you still stood beside him." Nodding at his words you sigh sadly.

"Maybe that was a signal, loving him and then getting attached to you all. That no matter how hard I try, I was more loyal to playtime than I was myself. I so badly wish to take your pain away. Sadly, the only thing I can do is this."

What did you mean!? Catnap watches you leave, Dogday stares in horror, "Catnap, did Prototype...." No, what did you mean!?

Were you leaving? No, you had a plan, something they wouldn't know about. Mommy places the fruits and vegetables aside when you returned. After everything, the truth, and now you and Harley were no more. What were you planning to do exactly? "Is there a reason you're so, quiet, planning in silence?"

"The plan is to give you all strength, and then, gather evidence." Mommy's eyes widen, she slinks over with a curious grin. "Evidence?"

"You are evidence, but the files are too." So that is why you were quiet and so obediently tame, of course this is merely as scary as any job with a corrupt background but to be on top and stay while hitting rock bottom. Yet here you are, giving food while ignoring Harley's calls.

Huggy leans in when your phone rings for the third time, you hold his cheek so he could remain still. His sharp teeth chew on the pears you feed him, sometimes he'd stand guard while you worked. Listening to the apologies or gentle words he wished to hear, when the experimentations happened. Did you even know of the pain? the anguish? The suffering everyone experienced at the hands of Harley, Eddie and Leith?

He could only smile while staring at you, your apologies meant something but in terms of actioner it would fall flat.

"tHe hOur oF jOy....yOu sHoUlD join..."

"I can't...I have to give the evidence to the public, you understand...I'm not sure what this hour will be but if you all plan to escape then I'll do everything I can to help."

Prototype envies your determined futility; him and Harley were alike that way. Harley loves your bleeding heart while Prototype's plan was meant to break you, turn you to hate humanity and maybe just maybe you could collaborate with him. Not out of love, or concern to commemorate you and him becoming allies, but because he needed eyes, ears, hands, and the ability to touch.

He then notes the ringing phone, that was once again in voicemail. Harley was growing more desperate.

Each one went straight to voicemail, or he'd find you in your office. Expecting coffee from you or a small smile of assurance, where did he go wrong? The day he truly went wrong was probably the last time you and him would share such warm embrace.

What happened? The files were placed down, evidence upon evidence and a video file to upload the truth to the world. Now all there is the door, but it was locked. Your body tenses, and in the back of your mind you prayed it wasn't what you thought it'd be. Whether you loved him or not, it was still...

It starts with a crash, a gunshot, yelling, what did Prototype do, words of who will cover this up fill your ears. How will he cover it up, then you ran in and knelt to Harley's side, holding him by the face.

Whether Harley wanted to or not, that was what made Leith, and you clash, he was usually bemused with your interaction with the toys.

Yet nothing bemused him more than seeing your teary-eyed face standing before him.

TW// Blood, gunshot, (Here we see his perspective of what happened. Meanwhile Leith gets his perception while the hour of joy is its own chapter), cursing, gore minors do not interact if you get weary at the mention of blood

Harley, Harley Sawyer, head scientist of the projects, facing betrayal, curiosity, discovery, love, failure, and isolation. Holding no sorts of humility and discipline as stated by Elliot, he struggles to reach the top of the ranks in playtime co. Striding to become better than those nobodies he called coworkers, the ones with bleeding hearts, soft like Elliot or not even capable to reach his intellect.

Many experiments, failure or not he knew he was the one carrying this company to success, then it was Quinn...

Quinn, he should've listened when he knew someone was opting to take this child in. Experiment 1166, aka Yarnaby. The obedience it displays....or he displays, was enough to make Sawyer "take" him in. That was his first mistake, "That boy Quinn, I really want to adopt him."

In one ear and out the other, this man was foolish. To even form a relationship with someone who held more humility, more humanity than him. How dare he ruin the concept of enamor for his partner to be or to not be.

He loved you, of course he did, that's why he kept you close. Someone needed to keep this family together, Harley, Quinn Yarnaby, you. His mind wanders to the baby, two months in...and to see your locked door the fetus, the man wanted to yell at the scientist for not saving it. It could be of potential: What a sick twisted thought to have about your own child!

Harley breaths as he scraps the paperwork on the prototype, "sOmethiNg thE mATTER? DoCtor?"

"No, you and I both know that....So anything else you wish to express?" It chuckles, then taps the metallic fingers on the table. "You both loved each other so dearly, and you simply had to turn that boy into a toy....Criminals, sick, dying...Right? Potential toys. Or better yet Some sedation."

"Don't you ever use that voice against me! Damn it!" Harley slams his hands on the table, he hated that voice, because it belonged to you. Except you were crying, hugging his frame while he couldn't bear to see you making that pathetic sound. Even when the doctor had the audacity to find some sick amusement at Yarnaby's sounds....you were different.

It absolutely annoys Harley's soul knowing Stella held some form of kinship to you, the flowers expressed so many words. So, he tried as well, first it was a Clematis Jackmanii, you were enthralled by such beauty. Next the Iris, you returned this exchange with a Rosemary, so he got bolder, and he was before your office with a Tuberose. Your wide eyes and slightly startled demeanor rub him the wrong way until you show him a beautiful pink poppy. He holds it, silent....

That flower was now wilted, he was heartbroken or maybe he needed to try again. So, he foolishly offers a poppy flower. Your demeanor is unchanging, and your silence spoke so many words to him, truly the indifference you held to the doctor hurt more than any form of hatred.

All these puzzles and shifts to try and win you over again he simply moves onto work like you but not the way he'd expect. The incident, he simply had Boxy Boo cover his tracks, and he'd leave while everyone else was already home. Until he saw you, your eyes were wide the crashing, gunshots, what happened!?

But he could only focus on you, he tries to speak, then stops when you walk forward. Harley practically drops everything to hold you but then his eyes widen. There was blood on the floor, sounds of shouting and Leith's angry yelling while guards start to seize you.

"Harley! What did you bastards do!? What was that!?" Your voice fades as the guards move you towards the hallways, "Harley!!!"

Harley's breathing shortens, too much blood loss...he felt it track over his lab coat. It reminded him of your warmth, your lips and tender touch.

"Start the procedure."

Then the doctor awoke, calling for you, it made Leith tense with anger, Dr. Bruno White clears his throat. "Procedure complete....how, are you feeling?"

"White!? Where, what happened...I...Something is wrong, what did you do!? Which one of you higher up backstabbing traitors..."

"I gave the order." Leith cuts Sawyer off from his angry tangent, he sighs. "After so many chances and even a failed attempt of us nearly getting exposed. You really know how to handle your screw ups."

"Enough with your idle talk, why would we even get exposed?" Sawyer snarls at him, his patience wearing thin.

"Your partner had evidence, upon evidence! Everything was recorded, everything! You simply couldn't just leave it alone..." Leith sighs, "Luckily we dealt with him as per needed.

"You have no idea what you all are doing, you all need mine and my dear's intellect!"

"That is the exact reason why you're here and not food for Boxy Boo." Leith retorts while he looks at Leith's now isolated form. "Here's how we'll do this, you will give the other scientists answers when they need them, and to perform procedures as directed."

"You'll die for this Pierre! When I get my hands on you. You're a DEAD MAN!"

Harley wouldn't accept this, not when you were trapped somewhere, being treated with the same pain. Leith Pierre maybe, a greedy bastard but...would he hurt you.

He had to know, it was as if the world was against him for the final time. How many months went by is what he'd ask but he knew time was only relative in the eyes of the beholder.

That's when he hears him again, "Open the door!" Leith's angry voice fills his ears, you take some steps back. Holding your chest, he watches through the camera tapping on the screen. Anything to get your attention, Stella's cries fill his head. Why was everyone do damn loud!?

"I failed, for the final time." Your voice begins, he assumed you were crying, and he desperately hopes it was true. Yet when no tears shed, he was angry. At himself, those fools, you!

He notices you grabbing the lever, to release everyone, everything, even him. But that meant you would die too, "No matter how much I try to look, I was no better…if they kill me, I hope I can ease their pain…I’m so sorry children."

You can't be serious!? This had to be prototype's doing! Why didn't he see the signs sooner, damn it, damn everything to hell it was his fault! He held the blame, Leith Pierre held the blame, Stella, all of these scientists. Innocent, guilty....

"I really did love him." Harley stops moping with self-loath when you say those words, "I just wanted him to see that those orphans, the children. They were smarter than people realize..."

You pull the lever; closing the gate that guards the workers in the higher grounds. "Prototype wanted us to die but, not everyone deserves it. I tried to convince him and Sawyer..."

The doctor watches your determined glare towards the others, "I'm doing this for the sake of the children and the innocent. I don't care if this seems like some moral power play, it isn't I'm no better."

Everything played out so slowly, the gates were vain as they transported Huggy to the upper floor. Killing everyone, Mommy long legs follow afterwards in the train station playground, death, blood, bodies. The sick sounds of someone's body being torn apart, it made Harley watch in awe how they practically turn this play to hell..

Because of him and those backstabbing scientists, what exactly did you do? Right, you never did them, you were the one who interrogated the children and toys.

Always being sweet, and caring for them, feeding those damned beasts. That was your downfall and biggest flaw, you had that bleeding heart...

"....Hello old friend." The prototype says in a mocking manner, "I see even after everything, your love for that scientist has not changed. So, will the doctor be seeing them?"

Harley chuckles bitterly at its words of mockery and amusement, those fools lost control god knows how much later after he was turned. Now this "Hour of Joy" happens, all of his work in shambles..

But you, his perfect experiment. You weren't in shambles, not yet that is, maybe if he made you into something like him the toys would be more accepting. Unlike that Thomas Clarke fellow, he could make you his perfect experiment, the perfect partner. Without that awful bleeding heart, he came to adore so much, you'd be safe from manipulation. From Prototype, he sighs once more as he finally clears his head, "Make sure my dear partner doesn't die.."

Your fate was sealed that day.

[billthedrake]

LINEAGE (PART TWO)

It was weird being in my doctor's office. Even weirder sitting out in the waiting room while my son Braden was getting the news confirmed. I wondered if the other people there had any idea or could read how much I was hiding my anticipation and excitement. Trying not to get my hopes up TOO much.

Too late for that, though. A week before, Braden had peed on the pregnancy test. I wasn't a water sports guy, and Brade wasn't a water sports guy, but it became our regular weekly ritual. Stepping into the master bathroom and then Braden pulling out his dick to pee on that stick.

It took several months to conceive. It was disappointing, at first. But Braden was the optimistic one. "You got strong swimmers, Dad, I know it. Let's just enjoy the act of making our first kid together."

So we did. Each time we fucked - and that's all we did now and would do now until conception - it was with a purpose. We had the idea of pregnancy in our heads. And we spoke them out loud. We talked about baby names while I slow pumped my raw dad cock in and out of my hot Marine son. We talked about the changes Braden's body would undergo once he got knocked up.

But the thing that drove me wildest, that drove Braden wildest, was the incest. Once either of started talking about how my son was also going to be my grandson, or how I was gonna give Braden a baby brother, how I was gonna fuck his little brother into existence inside of Brade... well, both of us would cum explosively.

Maybe those extra hard cums did the trick. The pregnancy test got a plus sign. It was wild to watch my son's soft cock grow instantly hard at the news. I certainly boned up.

"Bill?" came the doctor's voice as he popped out into the lobby. "Wanna come back?"

Dr. Fiedler was my general practitioner, and had been ever since he took over the practice from his father. He was still young, mid-30s. I had felt self conscious coming to him, but Braden insisted that he felt more comfortable with Fiedler than with some new doctor.

I tried to read the man's expression as he led me back, but he had a poker face. Until we got closer to the door and I saw a smile form on his lips. Hell, yes.

Brade was shirtless on the examining table, sitting up for all of his hunky perfection to see. God, if Fiedler touched my son in any way... get a grip on yourself, Bill, I told myself.

Braden's smile calmed my weird jealous streak. He didn't have a poker face, just pure joy. Already he was putting his T shirt back on, which I kind of regretted. We'd definitely have to fuck when we got home.

Fiedler motioned for me to sit in a chair while he pulled up his rolling desk chair.

"Well, Bill, I've told Braden the news, but he's for sure going to be a father."

"Yeah?" I replied with a beaming smile that I couldn't suppress. "That's incredible... I mean." Catching myself, though not in time.

Fiedler laughed. "It's OK, guys... I think it's beautiful." He looked back and forth between me and Brade. "Why do you think my dad retired early?"

"Shit!" Braden exclaimed with a laugh. "For real?"

Fiedler nodded. Doc was a handsome, cute fucker, I'll give him that. And the fact he'd bred an incest baby was wild to think about. "They've made some real advancements in fertility pills," the doctor said. "I'm sure Braden here doesn't need them."

"It took us a while to conceive," I admitted. Maybe I was concerned and wanted to make sure everything would be OK.

The doctor gave a quick nod. "Yeah, it takes longer with men." He looked over at my son. "Braden's all Y chromosomes, so if the sperm that reaches it is also Y, it won't take."

"So it's going to a boy?" Braden asked excitedly. No one could accuse him of being a dumb jock, though he was committed to researching pregnancy in a way he never got into studying in school.

"It's a boy," Fiedler assured us.

The doctor spent the next fifteen minutes filling us in on the next stages and then pulled out a pad. "Here's an obstetrician I can recommend," he said, writing down a name. "Dad and I used him, so he's sympathetic."

I took the paper. "Um, if you don't mind me asking, Doctor, how many kids have you...."

"Three," Dr. Fiedler answered. "And we're working on number four now." Somehow, the guy could say it in a way that was endearing as it was lewd. He turned to Braden. "Fatherhood's the best, Braden... and nothing like the first time."

***

There were phases. The excitement period over the news. Braden and I fucked at least twice a day. Trying to relive that moment of conception. Getting deeper into our sex talk. Choosing that baby name. I never thought I'd be one of those ego-centric guys who'd name his kid a junior. But once Braden went on about he really wanted our kid to have my name, I got real into the fuck, real into making out Brade, and real into the idea. Our first son was going to be Bill, Jr.

Then came a two month stretch of morning sickness. With Braden, it wasn't just the morning. He had it rough. I felt bad. I did my best to look out for him, even with my long hours. I got into the rhythm of bringing work home or tackling some on the weekends. It wasn't ideal, but it meant I could step up and do some of the basic household stuff. I'd gotten used to Brade taking care of all that.

In a strange way, it was like I was 18 and doing my share to help Susan out as we raised Braden. I could envision doing this once Bill Jr. was born. It would be even better, since my son was conceived with purpose, with love. Conceived with Braden.

Around the time the baby bump started showing, Braden felt better. Then the pregnancy hormones started kicking in. My son could get moody... sullen, angry, manic... but damn did he get horny. I'd wake up to him sucking me. Or he'd pounce on me when I got home, pulling me by my tie back to the bedroom. It was like our fucking honeymoon.

It got better. Once Braden started swelling, I got even more turned on. I was caught off guard by how much that growing belly and that overall pregnancy thickness would turn me on. I learned not to go rough when having sex, but that was better, too. Just pumping into my hot son while I watched that big round swell where my soon-to-be-born son was. Seeing that pregnancy gut sway lightly but tightly on his midsection. Where our son was.

And Brade's taut muscular chest grew rounder as he body prepared to make milk to feed the newborn when he arrived.

Bill Jr. was a big baby. 9 and a half pounds. I was over the moon, but it was the smile on Braden's face that thrilled me the most.

"We did it, Dad," Brade said as he held our infant son in his arm. He was still in a hospital gown, and even so he looked hot. Braden could look hot in just about anything, I decided. "Bill, Jr."

I saw our son squirm. "He's a feisty one," I said.

Braden laughed. "Was I, Dad?"

I shook my head. "Nah, you were a docile infant. Even as a toddler you were quiet. I don't think we're going to be so lucky."

"Probably not." Braden's eyes were on our son, taking in the miracle of a new life he'd brought into being. He looked up at me, then. "He's gonna be like you, I know it."

"We'll see."

***

I was proud of Braden. Nothing is like parenthood to make you grow up fast, but it was wild to see him step into responsibility. I wasn't able to take paternity leave since to the outside world, I was just helping my single-parent son out. That was the only tough part of this, the fact that Brade and I had to hide our relationship and the fact we'd made a son together.

The first couple of months were amazing but also tough. No sleep, changing diapers, the feeling of always being on shift. And my son and I weren't having sex. Brade wasn't ready, and my own libido was taking a hit. I jerked off in the shower from time to time for a quick release, but that was it.

Until one day I came home to see Brade shirtless on the couch, breastfeeding Bill Jr. It was just, I don't know, angelic, beautiful. Brade in his prime of youthful masculinity and parenthood. Feeding our son.

But there was the physical sight of Braden's body, too. The pregnancy weight was mostly gone but not entirely, and the fullness gave his ex-Marine muscle a beefiness.

"Hey Dad," he said softly as he looked up from Jr to me. "How was work?"

I shrugged and sat down across from him. "Work's work," I replied without wanting to go into the stress of my day. Brade didn't need me to unload that on him. "Nice to come home to this."

Braden laughed. His voice was deep now, a man's grown voice, and sexy as hell. "To what?"

I leaned back. I was chubbing up in my trousers. It was inappropriate sure, but my son was so hot and the neglected sex drive was coming back with a vengeance. "You. Feeding Junior." I paused. "Is that wrong to say?"

Braden got what I was thinking. He shook his head. "I didn't know you were a milk guy."

"Never was," I said, thinking back to when Susan was breastfeeding. "It's you, Brade, the fact you give me this gift."

His voice got soft, emotional. "Let me put Junior in his crib, OK?"

I nodded.

I was in a weird mood when I went to the bedroom to get out of my suit. I felt like I'd sullied something good and perfect about parenthood. Maybe my son would be freaked out. I'd hung my suit up in the walk in closet and had removed my tie when Braden entered the bedroom, still shirtless.

"Junior left some for you, Dad," he said in a quiet tone that I knew was lust. "We doing this?"

I felt my dick rock hard in my briefs. Braden could probably see that beneath my shirt tails. "It's probably wrong, isn't it?" I said.

Braden stepped up. "Inside this house, inside these walls, it's not fucked up, Dad," he said. Throwing back the words I'd told him more than once. My heart beat double time and my breath stopped as he grabbed my hand and guided up to his bare pec. Brade had let his chest hair grow in and there was soft fur all around the swollen nipple.

"You get sore tits?" I asked as my fingers played with the fleshy nib.

He nodded. "Yeah, a good sore though. Means our son has a healthy appetite."

"Oh Brade," I hissed as I leaned in for a kiss.

When you're in an ongoing relationship, particularly with your own son, you can't really rank the sexual milestones, but this definitely ranked up there in hotness. Me and Brade connecting for the first time since the birth of our son. I plunged my tongue into his mouth and felt his flutter back against mine. I could tell he was horned up now, and as I felt up his full pecs, his own mitt reached down to grip my boner.

Braden was the one with willpower to pull back. I could see the erection in his loose shorts.

"I don't think I'm up for fucking yet, Dad, but why don't I lie back and let you nurse me?"

I nodded dumbly. Not bothering to take my dress shirt off, I watched Braden strip and get on the bed while peeled down my underwear to free my hardon. Already I was leaking, dripping clear sap steadily off the tip.

My son's dick was hard, rock hard as he lay back on the pillow, legs slightly spread and his hand cupping his milk-full chest muscle. "Sorry to make you wait for sex," he said.

"Buddy... you should never feel pressured," I said. "But I won't lie, I've missed this."

I crawled on the bed, on top of Braden. Part of me was sad I couldn't be inside him, but even the feel of his nakedness and warmth beneath me was incredible, particularly as our cocks touched.

We kissed, and I did my best to go soft and slow before pulling back.

"You sure it's OK if I have a taste?" I asked Brade.

He nodded, with a grin. "More than OK. The idea is hot to me, too, Dad."

"Fuck," I hissed. This was kinky as hell. But as I kissed along my son's neck and down that hard upper chest, I got crazy excited. My lips traveled along the softer, fleshier part of his pec, dusted in his hair, before I found that swollen nipple.

I licked and sucked at it. I could taste the sweetness there, but milk wasn't really flowing out. That was Ok, I guess. Junior had probably tapped that teat dry.

I felt Brade's hand on my head, massaging my hair. Then I heard his deep, masculine voice. "Kind of munch a little, Dad. Gently, then suck on it at the same time."

Fuck, my son was coaching me on how to nurse at his tit. It took a second, but I coordinated the actions and was rewarded with the flow of his milk.

I moaned excitedly as I tasted Brade's breastmilk, swirling it around my tongue, then swallowing as more came out. I learned to coax more out. It tasted different than what I expected but both rich and watery at the same time.

I was going wild, but it turns out Brade was, too. I could hear the urgent excitement in his voice. "Fuck, Dad, this is so hot! Do my other tit."

The right one was more swollen and raw-looking but Braden didn't seem to mind as I latched my mouth on it and suckled hungrily.

His left hand cradled my head while his right went down to stroke off. I wondered if I could get him to cum like this, but I realized I wanted more. It had been too long since we'd had sex.

Relinquishing his teat, I gave it one last soft kiss then scooted down to taste my son's prick. He was leaking like crazy - like father, like son - and when Braden realized what I was doing he let go other than to feed his dick to me.

It took five bobs and my son was spurting into my mouth and throat, hard. He'd been majorly backed up.

"Dad!" he gasped as he gave it up. "Oh shit!" The aftershocks were intense for him, so I finally pulled off, gently lapping the dribbles which kept coming.

He still had a horniness in his voice. "Want me to suck you?" he asked as I rose up to look him in the eye.

I shook my head. "Can I feel a little more, buddy?"

That made him laugh. "Leave some for Junior," he said but twisted to reach over for the lube in our nightstand.

I took the bottle and squirted some on my prick, kneeling up to show it off for my son. Brade always loved seeing my dad cock and I loved showing it to him. Maybe before long it could be inside him again.

But that would have to wait. I tossed the bottle aside and leaned down. I still couldn't believe the miracle of life and the way Braden's body was producing milk like this. I licked around his tit and then placed my mouth square over it.

This time I had the knack down. I suckled and felt and tasted the milk in my mouth. I didn't want to overdo it, so I just went fot it. Storking furiously as my son breastfed me.

I came hard. As I rode out my orgasm I finally pulled off, resting my face against his meaty chest.

"Love ya, buddy."

"Love ya, too, Dad. So much."

I scooted up and met him in a kiss. I'm sure he was tasting his own milk. Braden was still hard and I hadn't gone soft myself. Maybe we'd go for a round two but just then we just enjoyed the closeness and connection.

"Dad...?" Braden finally said.

"Yeah, Sport?" I said, massaging his Marine-buzzcut hair. We'd talked about what life was going to be like now that he'd served out his enlistment contract, but the stay at home dad thing was more and more appealing to him. And I was getting very into the idea of supporting Braden that way.

"You know I think you're an incredible father, right?"

I leaned up. "I guess I could see where this is going," I said with a wry sadness. I knew that while I'd done my best raising Braden, I hadn't always been the best dad.

He had a contrite look on his face. Maybe a little hurt that he had to be saying this. "I just want you there in Junior's life, maybe in a way you weren't in mine."

"Oh buddy..." I said, heavy in emotion.

He cocked a grin to defuse the heaviness. "Maybe you just knew the hard-to-get approach worked on me."

I laughed, which made Braden laugh.

"I'll do my best, son," I said more seriously. "I want us on the same page when it comes to parenting."

"We will be, Dad," my son said in earnestness. "I know I'm going to learn from you."

****

It was a month before I was fucking Braden again. It was even off to the races with the pregnancy talk during sex. But I didn't need to check up on my son's birth control pills to know he was taking them religiously. I could trust him totally. We'd talked about how we wanted another son, maybe two more, but we wanted a break and time to enjoy raising Junior.

And for all the ups and downs between me and my son as a couple, and yeah the occasional fights, I knew we were of one mind with what we wanted for our family.

[thegamingcatmom]

@groovestrawberry Thank you so much for your words. They mean a lot. Especially because I'm prone to taking stuff way too seriously, so I really appreciate the reminder to just chill tf out. 😅❤️

Right so, onto your questions!

1) the last sentence you wrote

"It didn’t take long for your heart to pick up its frantic rhythm once more, terror seizing you anew at the horrible realization that, who…whatever was chasing you, it had been close enough for you to feel it."

Wrote that only yesterday. 💪

6) the word that appears the most in your current draft

(This is Chapter 4 btw.)

17) talk about your writing and editing process

Oh boy, what to say. Where to start.

I mean, I tend to take things a bit too seriously, as mentioned before. Which means I'll sometimes go over a sentence or paragraph until it no longer makes sense to me, lol. I know it's probably fine as is and ppl are gonna enjoy it anyway, so this is a habit of mine I'm working on. Also because, in my experience, whatever your brain comes up with after you first get your thoughts on paper, it most likely won't be as good as what you first came up with, so you end up going back to the OG anyway. 🤷🏻‍♀️

So ye, editing ain't fun, but it must be done because I'm really not happy with some of the stuff my old self has come up with. 🙃

As for the writing: This goes hand in hand with editing, actually. First things first though: Music. Most important. If I have a song I can vibe to and it fits the mood and all, then it's going rather smoothly. But, even then, I'm by no means a "fast" writer. Even when vibing, I'm still hyper focused on not making mistakes and especially using the correct tense (something I find surprisingly difficult when you're actually focused on it, lol). So, just like with editing, I'll read over a section a few hundred times before I proceed. I know some say it's more important to just get that first draft done and correct any mistakes after but, honestly? When a chapter is done, I wanna post it, not spend another few hours/days/weeks editing stuff. 🤷🏻‍♀️

So ye, writing and editing is more or less the same for me because it happens simultanously. Or it will, once I'm done with editing TBRH (The Bumpy Road Home) and things go back to "normal." 😅

What else to say...hm, I guess a few other "quirks" of mine when writing are:

Writing out a piece of dialogue and putting it somewhere on the page to use later because I just know that if I don't do that, whatever I come up with instead (because my ass forgot half of what I originally came up with) won't be as slapping. OG always wins and all. 😉

Pausing to take a breather because I get so immersed in the scene, I actually need a moment to process it. (I read somewhere that someone referred to it as "zoomies." This was more in the sense of reading a fic and coming across a section so damn good, you need a moment to process it. But, sometimes, this is very much the case for writers too. 🫠)

Looking up images, videos etc. of the ppl or things I'm writing about. For Chapter 4 of TBRH, the Denali house was my trusty companion. Just chilling in the background (aka: another tab), lol.

Starting on another scene even though I haven't finished the current one because I just need to know what happens next. (Yes, I'm aware I'm the writer.)

Well, that's all I can come up with for the moment. I'm sure there's more and maybe I'll post it at some point. ✌️

.

.

.

Thanks a lot for your questions and your lovely words! 💋

✍️ more fic writer asks!

reblog & your followers can send asks with the questions they’d like you to answer!

the last sentence you wrote

a character whose POV you’re currently exploring

how you feel about your current WIP

a story idea you haven’t written yet

first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP

the word that appears the most in your current draft (wordcounter.net can tell you)

your preferred writing fonts

if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

start to finish, how long did it take you to write the last fic you posted?

what is the longest amount of time you’ve let a draft rest before you finished it?

a WIP you’d like to finish someday

a trope you’re really into right now

a fandom you’re thinking about writing for

where do you get your inspiration?

favorite weather for writing

favorite place to write

talk about your writing and editing process

if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

in what year did you publish your first fic?

when did you publish your most recent fic?

do you ever worry about public reaction to what you’re writing? how do you get past that?

pick three keywords that describe your writing

how do you recharge when you’re not feeling creative?

besides writing, what are your other hobbies?

are you able to write with other people around?

your favorite part of the writing process

your least favorite part of the writing process

how easy is it for you to come up with titles?

share a fic you’re especially proud of

[chanranghaeys]

☀️ here, there, and everywhere

This journal belongs to: me. If found, please contact this number. (And please do not read it—unless you want to read the ramblings of a person who fails to deny their feelings for a certain someone.)

pairing: lee chan x gn!reader word count: 2.5k+ genre: fluff for (belated) happy chan day and carat day! rating: pg tags: college friends, they grew up, time skips between entries, mutual pining, happy (open) ending, stream of consciousness, excessive italics, please read the whole thing as if it were a private journal of sorts warnings: mentions of alcohol, death of a family member (brief mention, off the page)

a/n: this is a self-indulgent piece on my ultimate crush and the love of my (kpop) life, lee chan. i can’t keep denying you, so here we go. in an alternate universe, you would’ve been my best friend that i loved to hate and hated to love, until one of us finally gave in to our feelings and hoped for the best. happy birthday chan! you’ve given me nothing but color in my life ever since i became a carat. i wish you all the beautiful flower paths ahead ✨

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Dear Chan,

You must think me pathetic if you ever found one of these letters.

It sucks…this little crush I’ve discovered I have on you. And I am only saying this ONCE on the page. And to no one else. Because when you talk about a crush, it only grows, right?

So I'll just talk about it to myself.

I hate crushes because they are so unexplainable. They’re unexplainable feelings that latch on to you so hard and never let you go until you fumble and mess up and just make an utter fool of yourself.

I first found out I had a crush on you last month.

I had long admired you from afar through your dancing. You’re beautiful when you dance—in the zone, focused, bursting with energy. I’m genuinely jealous of how you can do the things you do with your body, how you tell such beautiful stories with every little move you make.

But it was that time during a production runthrough—the simultaneous evaluations—where you made that one mistake almost fatal to your team on that one sequence you spent weeks perfecting.

Yet there you were onstage, just laughing it off. So instead of your team being anxious or frustrated, they just laughed along with you.

It turned out to be the best performance of the night, your laughing played off as banter and camaraderie by the guest audiences.

That’s when I first felt the intense grip of this thing called feelings on my poor little heart.

Absolutely disgusting.

Anyway.

This “writing letters I'll never send to you” is all just for me to really process all these feelings I’ve discovered for you. No other reason aside from that. In my head, this is a form of acknowledgment so I can easily get over whatever this is.

So yeah. Feelings. A crush. On you—someone younger than me—of all people. I can’t believe it.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

We were crossing the street when you suddenly held my hand. You did that to pull me to the other side of the road farther from the direction of the car.

“Be careful,” you said.

I shouldn’t feel special. Maybe you do this with everyone else anyway.

I hate how I can’t help but feel just a teensy bit special. Indulge me on this.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I hate how you’re so stubborn. I hate how you’re so passionate. I hate how you’re such an amazing dancer. If I didn’t know better, I’d be so goddamn jealous of you.

Well, maybe I already am.

But above all that, I feel so in awe of you.

I hate how amazing you are in everything you do.

I hate how you’re actually inspiring me to be a better person. Little by little.

You’re inspiring me to be more diligent, to work harder, to believe in myself and my artistry way more than I ever thought I could—even through the infinite doubts.

Because that’s what you do to me.

“You can do it!” you said. “I’ll be right in the audience cheering for you, too. Because you’re my number one supporter, I’ll also be your number one supporter.”

I hate how you’re right. Why do you always have to be right?

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I don’t get it. I really don’t.

I don’t understand why you would do such things to me and for me.

It was such a simple and offhand remark.

“Is that a new necklace?” you asked.

“Nah,” I replied.

“It’s pretty. I don’t usually see you wearing that necklace. Where's the other one? The silver one with the daisy pendants?”

It was only because that one—my favorite one—broke and I didn’t have the time to have it fixed yet. Too busy with org scheds.

And you know what you said?

“Give it to me. I’ll have it fixed.”

What in the actual—

You didn’t have to do it, Chan.

Yet there I was, handing over my most prized possession...to you, my...friend.

You better give it back to me fixed, or else.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

We’re in the library pretending to study for this godforsaken exam. I’ve practically given up on it.

(lol just kidding I can’t do that)

So we’re on a break. You’re sitting right in front of me, writing something down in your own notebook. Good thing the tables are a bit wide. I really wish that you won’t be able to see your name plastered on top of this page.

I never pegged you for someone who writes. In my head, I will take this as my own influence over you after my constant stories of how journaling and writing is such a simple thing that can heal you so easily and thoroughly.

Maybe my influence, and Seungkwan’s as well. At least he’s a good influence.

It was so funny, even, how you made a huge show of showcasing your little black notebook. When you opened it, I saw that it was already bookmarked at the halfway point.

So you do write. You have been writing.

Stop making my crush on you grow. Stop.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

You were so drunk last night. I don’t think you’ll remember any of it today.

But I remember everything crystal clear.

You’ve had how many bottles of soju at that point. You slung your arm around me and leaned your head on my shoulder. Never mind how fast my heart was beating at that point. Whether from alcohol, or you know what, I will never know.

You told me, “You’re my best friend. You know that, right?”

Your best friend.

A friend.

A stake to the heart would’ve hurt less, in my opinion.

But then again, better a best friend than nothing at all.

I wish I was as drunk as you were last night. Maybe I could forget that one sentence and just carry on living as if this thing between us is nothing.

As if us holding hands the entire night last night under the guise of you “needing a steady hand to hold so you wouldn't fall because you were drunk as hell” is no indication of any thing.

Whatever this thing is.

Sincerely,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I promised not to write anymore—believe me I tried. We’re best friends, right?

Best friends meet up for breakfast before going separate ways for the day, right?

Best friends make sure to ask if you’re home at the end of every day, right?

Best friends have random snacks or your go-to pick-me-up drink delivered to you when they know you’re having a terrible day, right?

Best friends do that, right?

Even if they’re both in separate relationships already?

I’m so confused. I shouldn’t be, but I can’t make it make sense.

Maybe it’s just me and these lingering and unresolved feelings. I hate them.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

Thank you for meeting me as soon as I called. Thank you for holding me as my world fell apart. Thank you for comforting me even as my tears fell. Thank you for being reliable. Thank you for giving me my comfort ice cream. Thank you for helping me through this breakup even though I know you’re on the brink of your own.

Thank you for being a friend—my friend.

Thank you for always catching me whenever I fall.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I’m sorry about the breakup…or am I?

I’m not too sad about it, I’m sorry. I always knew they were a bit off for you. But I hope I’ve been the right kind of friend that you need right now.

Or however you need me. I'll be here for you, the same way you were for me. You know that right?

I know you held back a few tears when we were at the cafe earlier. You loved them, for sure. I know how far you go for love—that's how true your love is.

But you should've seen the look in your eyes. It tells me you’re not too too sad about it either.

Or maybe it’s just me.

Yeah, definitely just me.

Maybe it was more of me wanting to see the spark in your eyes again after you kept denying that it had been gone for so long.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

You should've seen your face earlier. It was so…

With all of your hip-hop and R&B playlists, I never pegged you to be one to appreciate any of the oldies.

“This is my favorite Beatles song,” I said.

You immediately stopped scrolling the phone hidden behind the book reading the book in your hand to listen to “Here, There, and Everywhere” playing from the cafe's tinny speakers, straining to make it out above the chatter of the establishment.

You said you'll pull up the lyrics to read, and as you did, the smile on your face grew ever so slowly with every word that your eyes traveled to. You started to slightly bob your head to the beat while mouthing some of the lyrics as the song continued on.

Okay, fine, I was watching you. You didn't notice anyway.

“It’s a great song,” you said. You looked up with this sense of meaning in your eyes. I feel like mine had a look of question marks in them.

Your fingers danced on your phone. I’m sure you added it to one of your playlists. Well, I hope.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

This is the last letter I’ll write. I promise.

It’s graduation tomorrow. If you give me nothing and nothing happens within the next month of tomorrow, I will stop this nonsense and maybe try to finally get over these feelings I seem to have for you.

Whatever it is.

I just…don’t think I can bring myself to do it first.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

This is so random but you just suddenly crossed my mind. And I remembered this notebook full of so-called "unsent letters to you."

I wonder how you are and if you're doing okay. I don't know why we grew apart after graduation. I just...I don't know. I can't even think about it without my head aching.

It does kind of feel like there's a hollow void in the shape of you somewhere in my body, particularly somewhere around my chest area.

(nope, I won't say it)

I hope you're doing alright.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I can’t believe you came. It's been five years since we saw each other, three since we last spoke, yet you came—the person I least expected to see in the wake.

I never thought there'd be another letter but how could I not write anything?

I didn’t realize how painful and heavy it was to lose my grandfather until you hugged me. You were the first one to see my tears. You were the only one brave enough to hold my broken pieces without caring if you'd get cut by my sharp edges.

How you were able to do it even after all these years will forever be a mystery to me.

Thank you for catching me before I further shattered myself.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I’m still reeling from recent events.

It was so nice to see you again last night, though. Thanks for dragging me out of my apartment. It’s been so long since we went out like that, just for some frozen yogurt, which naturally turned into a few drinks because after all, it’s still the two of us together.

But good lord help me, I’m still in a daze. How can I be normal when I just dropped the biggest truth bomb of my life thus far?

I told you, “Maybe I’ve always wondered what it would be like if we ever tried before.”

But you know what you said? You know what you frickin’ said?

“I wish you told me earlier. Why didn’t you?”

Well, why didn’t you??????

I swear I could’ve combusted on the spot if I could. I swear I just said that so I could finally let go of this weight from my chest.

But you know what you did?

You walked me home. You made sure I was safe.

And then you visited this morning with coffee and breakfast to nurse the drinks from last night.

You’re just outside my room right now, sitting on my small couch, playing Beatles songs from the speakers. You’re waiting for me to finish whatever I’m doing here because you’re taking me out to see this movie I told you I wanted to watch. Why?

“We have to make up for lost time,” you said.

Chan, what are you doing? Just tell me so I know what I should do.

What do I do with you now?

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Happy Chan Day!

I hate you.

I wish you told me about your party earlier! I mean, even hours earlier, not like an hour or two right before.

Okay, I know it’s a spontaneous birthday party and all—I GET IT. But please tell your friends to at least invite your other friends beforehand? So we can also prep stuff for you, okay? I moved around so many schedules for this—for your party. How could I not?

So I hope you’ll forgive me for not preparing your gift yet. I was planning to get it in the coming days when my sched was relatively freer. Still, I’m really, truly sorry for not getting you a gift. I know you like getting gifts because you like giving them as well.

You know, it’s your birthday, yet you were the one who said something that was almost like a gift to me.

You said, “Don’t bother with the gift. As long as you’re here with me, I don’t really need anything else.”

Chan, I still hate you. I think.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I’ve come to the harrowing realization that I’m in love with you.

No scratch that. I love you. Throughout all these years, I’ve always loved you.

How’s that for a hit-me-with-a-firetruck realization?

Yours truly (I wish),

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

Do not laugh at me. Do not be condescending. Do not dismiss me—your best friend. Do not leave me hanging. Just…do not.

When I show you this, just don’t.

Just read it.

Yours truly,

Me

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Hey, you.

If only you knew how many pages I’ve written about you. Glad to know I’m not the only one doing so.

It started on that day we were in the library. I’d already written about so many things, but that was the first time I ever wrote about you. I’ve never stopped writing since.

And even in pages full of you writing about me, I still write about you.

You’ve always been here, there, and everywhere to me.

Yours, truly and only yours,

Chan

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

NOW PLAYING: seventeen's playlist - song # 2

“To lead a better life / I need my love to be here // … // will be there and everywhere / Here, there and everywhere”

[indycinders]

Love and Valentine's :: LADS Headcanons

I've been feeling icky today so I decided to make fluffy, SFW headcanons for each boy and how they'd spend Valentine's Day with you (❁´◡`❁)

Maybe it's just my feed LMAO but I don't see enough fluff, or stuff catered to aces. Sometimes domesticity is better than smut.

Xavier - "You rest, I'll be by your side. Always."

🟣Would create a little nest in either of your apartments. Blankets draped over furniture, tons of pillows and plushies inside, fairy lights strung around providing soft lighting. 🟣He'd have a pile of movies, older romance ones that neither of you have seen before, ready and waiting for your first pick 🟣Bought all your favorite snacks and beverages 🟣Holds you close and strokes your hair or your arm, whatever he can trail his fingers over in gentle comforting strokes. 🟣Mostly watches your reactions during the movies, seeing what makes you light up and what you find too cheesy. 🟣Both of you would probably fall asleep, tangled together in the warm little fort he provided.

Zayne - "... You were the one who protected me in my dream."

🔹He prefers it when it's just you two, so he'd make your favorite meal at his house. 🔹Candles, your favorite flowers in a vase if you don't like roses, soft music. 🔹No wine or alcohol because he wants both of you to enjoy each other without the added effects of alcohol. 🔹Active listener while you talk over dinner, his attention is 100% on you. 🔹Fine with cuddling on the couch after dinner, watching your favorite movie or show. Seems to get invested in the media as well, giving you two something to gossip about during breaks. 🔹Orders a delicious dessert for both of you to share, teasing you by smearing a bit of chocolate on the tip of your nose. 🔹Ending the night cuddling on the couch again, his arms around you as he softly reads from a poetry book, the prose saying everything he struggles to.

Rafayel - "Our bond has existed for years."

🩷Sushi date? Sushi date. 🩷Walking barefoot on a private beach at sunset, holding your hand and listening to you chatter about anything and everything. He's attentive and focused on you. 🩷Still playful of course, so he'll tease you once in a while. Probably get into a splash fight near the water's edge. Laughing and chasing each other in the sand. Lifting you up and spinning you around until you both fall dizzy and breathless on the sand. 🩷Laying on the sand and watching the stars in the sky come out, his fire and warmth keeping both of you from freezing. 🩷Back in his studio and dressed in warmer pajamas, silly romcoms playing in the background as you two do that couples painting each other activity. 🩷Giggling at each other's depiction of the other. He paints a flower on your shoulder and you paint a little heart on his cheek. 🩷When it's late, you both cuddle in his bed as he sings your favorite Lemurian lullaby.

Sylus - "Who could ever do anything to me except you?"

⭕If you're into the whole lavish wining and dining, he'd 100% do it for you. Flowers, dressing to impress, dancing, all of it. ⭕Otherwise, he'd prepare one of your favorite meals or order take out for a night in. ⭕Both of you on the floor on some comfy blankets in front of the fireplace. A nice little in home picnic, your favorite records playing in the background. ⭕Playing board games or card games, whichever you prefer. Enjoying each other's company. ⭕Dancing in your socks and comfy clothes around the living room, giggling every time he spins you or dips you. ⭕Hide and seek with Mephisto because of course. ⭕Carrying you up to the bedroom and whispering how sweet you were today. ⭕Holding you in his arms as you sleep, humming softly the way he knows relaxes you.

Caleb - "No matter what happens, I'll always be the first person you can share things with."

🟧100% already had everything prepared for when you came. 🟧All your favorite dishes made. 🟧Also bought your favorite candy/chocolate like he did every year before. 🟧Both of you wearing matching sweaters because you're adorably dorky like that. 🟧Recreating pictures from when you were younger. 🟧Nerf gun fight? Nerf gun fight. 🟧Will pull you into his lap as you cuddle on his bed and watch movies. Both of you wearing face masks because he does everything with you. 🟧Will give you a massage if you need it, otherwise happy to just cuddle and fall asleep with you in his arms.

I hope I did them justice! uwu I might do a HC thing for disabled/chronically ill peeps like myself as well. All the comfort (❁´◡`❁) Which date night would you prefer out of the above? :3

[incorrect-green-lantern-quotes]

In the early days of the Justice League, Black Canary and Superman often tried to get the team together for more casual purposes than fighting alien invasions. It took quite a bit of wrangling to get even a few of the world's finest together, since each was often busy with their own individual adventures, and were spread out across multiple time zones.

The opportunity to gather the whole team came in the form of a fight with Intergang that had been serious enough to require the full League's attention. After the cleanup, Dinah floated the idea of getting dinner and relaxing in the Mt. Justice lounge, a suggestion that the tired and hungry superheroes enthusiastically agreed to.

Whatever initial awkwardness that still existed between the members of the Justice League was finally dispelled by watching Clark thoroughly lose an impromptu pizza-eating contest (he underestimated a speedster's accelerated metabolism). Barry's face went as red as his suit as his colleagues cheered and a glowing green crown appeared above his head.

Waving away the hard-light construct, Barry asked, "Say Hal, how come you only make simple stuff like boxing gloves and baseball bats with your ring? Didn't you say it can make anything you imagine?"

"Oh that's easy- GL's a simple man, and his imagination struggles with anything more complex than his childhood toys!" Ollie said before Hal could answer, then ducked under the construct hand that swatted at where his head had been. "You're only proving my point!"

"It's not as easy as it looks." Hal protested as the other heroes burst into laughter. "Especially when in a life-or-death situation. In those moments, you fall back on the things you're most familiar with."

"Which in your case is sports equipment? I thought you were a test pilot, not a gym teacher!"

"Jets are complex machines, miracles of modern engineering! And I make lots of airplane constructs." Hal sputtered, then grinned. "But if you're so sure you can do better..."

He held out his hand, and the green ring on his middle finger slid off and hovered in the air between the heroes. "Be my guest."

For a moment, none of them moved. Then Ollie cracked his knuckles and plucked the ring out of the air, sliding it onto his finger. "I already wear the 'Green' better, maybe I'll take the 'Lantern' part too."

Hal said nothing, his grin growing even wider as Ollie thrust out his fist... and all that happened was the power ring glowing a little brighter.

"Having performance issues, darling?" Dinah giggled.

"Laugh it up." Ollie grunted, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. The ring's light grew brighter, and a shining arrow shot out from it, embedding itself in the wall before fizzling out. "Ha!"

"Well, you're certainly living up to your name." Barry laughed. "Mind if I try?"

"Be my guest." Hal shrugged.

Barry's attempt was immediately more dramatic, as crackles of emerald lightning flickered around the ring... but nothing more than that. He shook his head ruefully as he took it off. "Whew, feels like I ran a marathon. Is there any pizza left?"

Clark fared little better, only managing to form a holographic duplicate of his symbol over his chest and hold it for a few seconds before letting it dissipate. "This really is a lot harder than it seems."

Dinah on the other hand, opted to try a different power, rising several feet off the floor before abruptly falling with a yelp (fortunately everyone present was quite practiced at catching people). "I always wondered what it felt like to fly," she confessed. "But it's so much harder to maintain concentration when you're worried about falling."

The near-disaster left them all a little subdued, but that was quickly replaced by astonishment when Diana created a construct lasso that was the mirror green image of the one on her hip. She twirled it experimentally, then tossed the loop around Hal and pulled it tight, trapping his arms at his sides.

Even when Dinah had fallen, Hal's cocky smile had only slipped for a moment. Now however, he looked absolutely flabbergasted. Still, he managed to quip, "Is this lasso as good as the real thing?"

"Are you feeling particularly truthful?" Diana lifted an eyebrow. "Is imagination truly the only factor in wielding this ring?"

"Nope!" Hal spread his arms, snapping the construct lasso like it was yarn. "To the second question, specifically. The ring can do whatever you can imagine, but it takes willpower to maintain the constructs."

He snapped his fingers and the power ring flew off of Diana's hand and back to its owner. "And I just have more willpower than all of you."

This proclamation was met with veritable hail of bottle caps, pizza crusts, and paper plates from Barry, Ollie, and Dinah, who made their opinion very clear:

"That's a load of crap! You don't even have enough willpower to eat a bowl of chili without a gallon of milk!"

"Boooo!"

"Say that again while holding the real Lasso of Truth!"

"Ollie your chili is a freakin' war crime!" The debris bounced off of Hal's hastily constructed shield as he shouted back at his friends. He then turned to the only member of the Justice League who hadn't tried on the ring yet. "How 'bout you, Spooky? You wanna have a go?"

Bruce merely smirked. "No thanks. Green's not my color."

[bitletsanddrabbles]

The characters of the Gilded Age. How I do kinda depends on who's doing the rescuing.

If it's the Russells, I'm probably fine, unless George and Bertha disagree over how or why to rescue me and they both get involved. I mean, if George is trying to rescue me on his own and Bertha just stays out of it, I'll be fine. It's if they interfere with each other I'm in trouble.

If it's the van Rhijns I'm dead. I love them, but when it comes to getting things done, they're worthless. Unless maybe there's something in it for Oscar...then I might be okay...but I can't think of anything Agnes would get out of rescuing me, so she'd probably just grouse about his efforts and, if anything, get in the way.

If it's the Scotts....50/50 chances. It depends on how badly Arthur's pissed off the women folk today. Not that Dorothy and Peggy couldn't rescue me on their own, but if they're being distracted by being pissed at him, it might not go so well.

[isatartdump]

ALSO. Last post for today because I feel the nausea coming again . Now for sharing more ugly stuff

Trying to figure out colors/clothes for siffrin and loop in the mobian... Au? thing. Idk what to call it. I don't like the colors but everything else is kinda alright and I am a firm believer of never deleting the ugly stuff so!!!!!! Here we are. Do judge my colors! I need help.

Loop's looks... Alright- Maybe I should get on another color pallete but I can only go warm-cold with them. Not for how I feel but just to keep the entire star motif and me going that they're* either something like the sun or a dead star (I forgot how its called)

But siffrin is a lost cause in the color department. Maybe I should get onto more warmer colors for the clothes and keep the cold ones for his fur/skin? Idk! I'll let it simmer (is this a word? Feels like it is) in my brain a bit since I am 100% going back to bed after this kMDLKSM

Something something mobians usually don't wear clothes (up to what I know about sonic in general)- SPECIALLY on this amount but I still think Siffrin wouldn't feel as comfortable if they weren't more as covered. Also maybe- MAYBE! it will change but I like the idea of Siffrin being an albino. Well, albino fossa to be more specific, but albino nonetheless. There would be no way of knowing such a thing in ISAT but putting them in a more colorfull world gives me the chance to do that

Believe I've already shared the initial designs for King but I'd get his colors to be more cold so it fits how... Much of a sad figure he is in my brain. Maybe on a replay of the game I'd think better about the colors but I don't think I can read more- Anywayy..

Last thing!!! I've been thinking of Isabeau being a bear (Asian black bear, to be specific) but that feels both spot on and just... Lazy? I don't know. No other animal fits him well but! I want to make them all creatures that can come from the same place and consider the places they come from at the same time so I ammm giving myself a bit of a hard task here. Maybe. Not that much. We don't know exactly where Jouvente is- Bambouche (is this how it is written?) is said to be on the coast so Bonbon and Petronille is gonna be easier to pick an animal.......

[yaut-jaknowit]

Hello can I have an ask about reader who came from our world who is a big fan of predators who can read, write and speak their language and fight like them too gets teleported to yautja prime and I guess she was looking around for shelter and she found a clan so she entered their clan grounds hoping she doesn't get killed and she found a pyramid (from what I remember seeing in one of the movies) which turns out to be where the clan has its important meetings. And the elder clan leader let's call him Kar'dokh (if you don't mind) was having meeting with other nearby clans so reader accidently enters the meeting room filled with other clan leaders and their most trusted soldiers standing by their side and the silence was LOUD

Reader: .... 

Kar'dokh and the other clan leaders: .... 

*Kar'dokh gets up about to kill her*

*Reader speaks in yautja*: wait I mean no harm I swear!! 

And like all of the yautjas were flabbergasted to find this out and they were suspicious of her cause how does a human know so much about their people? (cause in the world no human ever went to yautja prime) so word got out and everyone wanted to see the human including people from other clans, so fast forward reader and kar'dokh got close -e ends up liking her try's courting her but she pretends to be oblivious to it

Kar'dokh: ooman

Reader: yes? 

Kar'dokh: why do you refuse to be my mate? Am I not a worthy enough male for you? I have you know I have strong seed to sire strong pups so why do you refuse me? 

Reader: what...? What do you...huh? Kar'dokh you are an alien I wouldn't even be able to give you children! 

Kar'dokh: my people's technology can fix that issue so be my mate

Reader: I... I can't 

Kar'dokh: and why not? 

Reader: because I'm human!!! 

Kar'dokh: not valuable reason. Try again

Reader: why do you even like me!?!? Kar'dokh: because I am attracted to you

Reader: *tip toe’s and manages to grab him by the shoulders* raise your standard!!!!

Kar'dokh: *slams hand into metal and puts a deep dent into it then proceed to grab her by the risk*

AND BOOM he pounces on her, corners her against the wall gets her to confess her feelings and they do the super Spicy boombayah doggie style😉

And she somehow got pregnant a few days later 

SORRY FOR IT BEING LONG!!!!! 

To Another Realm

Pairings: Kar'dokh (male yautja) x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 5271

Summary: After being transported to another realm where yautjas are real, you learn to survive. With the help of Kar'dokh. A clan leader of a strong tribe. If it wasn't for him, you would've been long dead your first day. Close proximity and his help made the two of you grow close. To the point there was no space between you two.

Author Note: IM SO SORRY ITS TAKEN ME FOREVER TO GET TO THIS. I've been so busy. Work just changed my 6-2 to a 10-6 and I'm now moving an hour away. So I'll be taking a small break as well for that for writing probably. Maybe... I don't know.

Also! I do have a patreon now: link There are three tiers. Those get the post earlier. Everything will still come out. I'm tweaking things as I go.

Masterlist

Ao3

Wind rushes passed you. The ground comes and meets your face with a dull thud. Blackness is all you see.

A throat-tearing gasp wracks your body. You sit up rapidly and start to violently cough, trying to figure out how to steady your breathing. It takes a moment to steady yourself enough to wipe away the tears from your face and gaze around. What you saw wasn’t what you were expecting.

Jungle. Tall, lumbering trees towered high above you. Heat and humidity smacked you in the face. The air was hard to breath. It felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen, like you had been shoved onto of a mountain without any time to acclimate. You struggled to your feet and glanced around. The area felt weird. It was as if your internal compass was thrown off completely.

Where were you?

Only thing you could feel besides the confusion was dread. A heavy thing to sit in the pit of your belly, weighing you down. You placed over your heart and took in deep, calming breathes. A difficult thing to do when it feels like you’re slowly suffocating. You pushed through the dread and began to move in a random direction. There had to be some sort of clue to as where you are… and how you got here. The last thing you say doesn’t correspond to waking up in a forest!

Due to the lack of air, you could only walk at a moderate pace. That already had you panting slightly. The terrain was rough and unsteady. Thick foliage, fall giant trees, wide creeks, and boulders made the trip all the more difficult. You had to push forward though and find some sort of clue. Sweat and humidity sticks to your skin like a sheet. Your clothes sticking to you uncomfortably. No matter how much you pulled the drenched clothing away from your skin.

Hours, or what felt like hours of traveling, later, you spotted something through the foliage. It rivaled the trees height. A structure! You immediately started to quickened your pace and race through the foliage, not caring if the branches tore at your clothing and skin. You panted heavily by the time you pushed past the lush bush. You stood there and dragged your gaze up, up, up until you find the top. It was a pyramid. A pyramid in the middle of the jungle. Was this somewhere that had Aztec or Mayan buildings? That’s all you could come up with.

It was in pristine state, as if you had been transported back in time. Like this was the day it was built. You can’t recall anything from anywhere that had something like this. With your heavy breathing, you had to stand there for at least ten minutes, under a tree, catching your breath. The sun was harsh. It felt like you were in a desert, in middle of the day. It nearly burned your skin by standing out in it for a short period of time. You glanced at the building after catching your breath once more. You wanted to go inside. Who knows what’s beyond its walls? Could be an earth shattering record?

With a deep breath you pushed onward and stepped into the blazing sun. Even the intensity felt off, the rays as well. Yet, you didn’t have an idea on what is happening. Besides this being a terrible dream. Stuck in a hot, humid jungle with no phone, no map, no clue where you were. A hopeless situation to be put into with your lonesome.

Large stairs that reached your knees slowed your ascend. Halfway up, you had to stop and take a moment. “This. Is. Bullshit,” you muttered to yourself then continued up the stairs. The material was textured and a deep ruby red with blocks of black. It was beautiful despite you sweating all over it. Does a dream really make you sweat this much?

By the time you had reached the top steps, you feel faint, ready to fall back down the stairs you just climbed. You stumbled your way into the entrance, thankful for the cover. The sun had done a number on your skin. The heat that radiated off of you could make water boil off of you. Your back touches a wall before you slide down to sit. Your legs were more than thankful for the rest. There had to be at least on-hundred steps. Minimum. It was worse since they were made for bigger people.

All because you wanted to see the inside. This better be worth it.

Once you felt stable, thirty minutes later, you weakly stood up. Your legs wobbled when you took a step. You continue on and follow your way inside. Only to realize it had a stairwell. You growled and glared at the damn thing. Then, you take the slow and approach of climbing down each step. It wasn’t much to complain about. Only about two flights until you reached the first floor. Now, it was time to explore.

There was something in the air that had you on alert. Either from the creepiness or from the fact you felt like you were crossing into forbidden territory. You tread quietly, peered around corners before doing down that hallway. The place felt like a maze, meant to drag you deeper and deeper into the depths. Until you from yourself all the way at the bottom level.

That; s when you realize that the only reason you’re able to see is from fire lamps. Lamps that have to be lit by someone. You stopped in your tracks and looked at the walls. In your blind stupor, you didn’t think to look at the walls. Walls that are decorated with stone carvings. Carving that made you think of the movie ‘AVP’. This is really a dream.

You walked up to the carving and gently ran a hand over the smooth stone. Beautiful work. Someone had poured their heart into the crafting a story into the stone. Your gaze drifts over the art work and followed the story down the hallway. All the way to a grand door at the end of the hallway. It was too carved with a mixture of stone, word, and some sort of ore. You stopped in front the door with your jaw dropped.

Curiosity got the best of you. Both of your hands were place on one of the doors.; With all of your weight and strength, you pushed open the door. Your head was ducked down as you struggled the entire time. Just enough until you could slip between the new crack. You stepped into the room and instantly freeze on the spot. That dreadful feeling only intensified… tenfold. You picked up your head and had to cut off a gasp.

Tens of eyes stared at you bright, fierce gazes that looked ready to tear into you. Your muscles locked in place as you stared out at the group. You recognized them. Yautjas. These were Yautjas. Twenty or so. All of them staring at you. Your heart pounding in your chest, trying to escape from the situation you’ve put yourself into.

At the end of the long, formal table, one grand looking Yautja stood up abruptly. Others following suit. The first on marched around everyone and advanced swiftly towards you. You stumble backwards and smacked into the closed door behind you.

Two long blades slid out and glinted off the low light from the fire lamps. Your eyes about bulged out of your head as you looked at the approaching Yautja. Seeing them in movies was far different than seeing on in person. Not that you ever thought you would see one like this. Your hands lifted up in a complacent manner, as if you were trying to call down an angered animal.

“Wait!” you screamed, using a language you never though to use. The Yautja stopped in his tracks his muscles tense. Everyone else pausing as well. “Don’t… don’t kill me.” The unused language was choppy on your tongue. You never thought you would ever use it. Not that you had anyone to use it with.

Surprise over took his anger in the moment. His eyes roamed from head to toe. “You spoke.” It was a statement rather than a question. The words takes a long few seconds to register in your brain. A bit of excitement flares to life inside of you at the knowledge you understand him.

Timidly, you nodded your head. “Yes. Did. Not well.” You did your best to communicate with him, hoping to keep yourself alive. The other Yautjas with him, hoping to keep yourself alive. The other Yautjas behind him glanced at each other, confusion evident in their eyes. Some looked angry. One stepped out from the group and tried to bypass the main Yautja standing less than ten feet from you. He sticks his arm out and stops the other one.

“No, Taural,” he growled but didn’t let his bright vibrant eyes off of you. You felt like a deer in headlights, just waiting for them to do something. For them to decide your fate. There was no running, no fleeing. You couldn’t outrun them, there was no chance of escape. You had to think smart.

The one he stopped snapped his head towards the larger male. “It’s a ooman, Kar'dokh! On Yautja Prime. It needs to be killed,” Taural spat at the brown Yautja. Your heart leapt into your throat. Kill you?! But-but, you’re not a threat, you have no weapons. They have no reason to kill you!

“No.” Such a firm statement that left nothing to be argued. “Return to your seats. Now.” A command that left everyone only to followed. They followed his order with little resistance. Some glanced back at you with murderous intent. Part of you was thankful for the mercy while the other was afraid what he might have in store for you.

Kar'dokh approached you once more with a stern look in his eyes. Instantly, like a cornered animal, your first thought was to throw a punch. But, you didn’t want to give a reason to kill you. Don’t be a threat. He stopped directly in front of you. A towering form that made you feel like you were going to shit yourself. Your heart raced and felt like it was going to leap directly into his hands.

He leaned down and got directly into your face. You tried to turn your head away but he grips your chin and forces your head back. “No threat. Can’t… kill me,” you continued in choppy Yautja. The fear that gripped your heart squeezed hard. All you could do was stand there, under his scrutiny. Your eyes pleading for your life to be spared. Because if your memory served you right, from all the knowledge about these guys, they shouldn’t be allowed to harm or kill you in any way. You aren’t a threat and hold no weapons.

“How do you know?” he growled out lowly and tightened his grip on your chin. You since. “How did you get here?” You could see the questions swirling in his eyes the longer you he stared at you. He was trying to figure out where and how you got here.

Longer you stood there pinned to the wall, you grew more lightheaded. Either from the anxiety that ran through you or the lack of oxygen was starting to get to you. Maybe it was the fear of death right in front of you. Or maybe it was a combination of all of that. Your breathes started to come out fast the longer you were pinned. Darkness began to crowd your vision.

“I-I’m gonna pa-pas out,” you alerted to him before everything went dark. You collapsed on the ground. Kar'dokh letting you dropped. The last thing you remember is being picked up.

By the next time you woke up, you felt a bit refresh. Your eyes blinked open to stare up at a patterned, carved ceiling. Carving like the ones you’ve seen on the pyramid walls. Your brows furrowed at the sight. What? You sat up and rubbed at your eyes. The scene didn’t change. You had just woke up. What in the world were you still in this dream? Fear started to fill your stomach. No… surely, this was a dream. Was this a dream?

Then, a door opening caught your attention. Your head snapped over towards the sound. Kar'dokh was walking into the room, head held high. He stopped besides the cot you had been placed on during your forced nap. Stunned, you peered up at him, heart thundering again. “What happened?” you asked, speaking in your normal language now. Then, you felt the blanket that had been laid on you, slip down. That’s when you realize the room you were in was a medical room. And it didn’t feel like you were suffocating anymore.

His nearness was frightening. To see him crowd into your space without any remorse for scaring you terribly. A grumbled came from the towering, brown giant. “Our planet’s atmosphere isn’t designed for oomans.” His voice! He spoke in Yautja but a monotone voice sounded in your ear. A translator.

It’s thought that they breathe nitrogen more than oxygen. They can survive in our atmosphere than us in theirs. “A regulator has been added to our respiratory system.” Kar'dokh leaned into closer into your space. Your natural reaction was to move away but he snatched your throat and tugged you back. “Now, that I know you won’t die before I get my answers: start talking.”

Worst of all, you don’t know the true answer to his questions. He didn’t look like he would accept ‘I don’t know’ as an answer either. You forced down the lump in your throat. “Uh, what was the questions again?” you asked in a small voice. As much as you wanted to shy away and hide, the grip he had on your chin was firm. There was no escape.

He scowled at you and tightened his hold on you for a moment. “How did you get here? Who brought you onto our planet?” The deepness and anger in his voice was laid thick over you. It rattled you deep to the bones. Fear gripped your heart. The more you looked at Kar'dokh, the more you noticed how decorated he was. Kar'dokh was covered with plenty of bones and scars. From your knowledge, he must be a well decorated hunter or possibly an elder… or a clan leader. That had your heart dropping to the floor, at his feet. You whimpered quietly and closed your eyes, trying not to faint again.

“Answer me!”

Your whole body jerked from him but he brought you back to his space. “I don’t know! I don’t know! I promise. I woke up in the middle of the jungle. I-I walked around and found this place. I don’t know how I got here. Honestly!” you had to plead to him. Hopefully, he’d see the honesty in your eyes, hear it in your voice. You cracked open an eye to read his face.

The gears in his brain were spinning. Kar'dokh growled then let go of your chin. With a yelp, you fell back and nearly fell off the cot if it wasn’t for him grabbing the collar of your shirt. He hauled you back up into a sitting position. Far too close. You could see the speckles in his eyes. Beautiful but deadly. This creature could easily hurt and kill you with a fraction of his strength. The only reason you are alive currently was you weren’t a threat nor an honorable kill. Those… others wanted to kill you with little remorse or pause. Was that honor rule not true? If that was the case, you were a walking corpse. Soon to be a skull on the wall. Nothing more than a trophy.

Kar'dokh eases off of your shirt until he knew you won’t fall backwards again. “Thanks,” you murmured and drifted your face down towards the cot again. Your hands were folded in your lap, nervously playing with each other. “I’m being honest. I promise. I don’t know how I got here. I don’t even know where I am. This isn’t earth, is it?” You gazed back up at him, eyes large and wide.

The two of you entered a short staring contest until he sighed and took a step back. “I believe you, ooman. I don’t smell another on you.” The brown Yautja leaned forward and sniffed you for a moment. “You do smell… strange.” Was that a good or bad thing? He stood back up and stared down at you from over his mandibles. “Do answer me this: how do you know that we can’t harm you?” Your breath got caught in your throat. Was it wise to release such information to him? Would he think you as insane?

But, the only way was to get through all of this is to be honest. From there, it would be up to Kar'dokh if you are to live. Putting your life in someone’s hands.

“Okay… you might not believe me though.” From there, you went into explaining what your world is like. Going deeply into about how Yautjas are a fake species, made up. All of them a fantasy that someone made up… until now. Kar'dokh took all of it. His stern face a wall of impassible features. Not even his eyes gave away a single emotion. By the end, you finally stopped and watched him closely.

During your whole talk, he had grabbed a chair. Kar'dokh stood up and uncrossed his arms. “All you’ve said is… unrealistic, though you arriving on Yautja Prime is also next to unrealistic. Oomans aren’t allowed on Yautja Prime but… you are  a special case now. If what you say is true then you must be kept alive.” That made a cold drop drip down your spine. What could that mean?

From that day, you were under lock and key by Kar'dokh or in a medical-like room. They would run tests on you yet they couldn’t come up with anything logical for your situation. In the meantime, you got to learn more than ever about them. Probably the first and only humans to step foot on Yautja Prime. Alive. It took time to get Kar'dokh to open up but your excitement about learning their culture and language inevitably softened him up enough. That’s when you learned more about him. Plenty for a well decorated warrior and clan leader to talk about.

Two years after you first dropped down onto their planet, the scientists were still scratching their heads. They haven’t figured out how you’ve made it here. They were able to find out you weren’t from their universe. Something about your cells were different. That’s as far as they’ve gotten about your situation.

On a different hand, you’ve gotten further with Kar'dokh to the point he allows you free roam of his home and the clan he leads. There was a strict no harming or killing on you. He had his name and symbol burned into your skin to ensure everyone knew you were off limits. Everyone kept a wide berth when it came to you. Rarely did anyone talk or looked at you. Something you used to your advantage. For the most part. Until you wanted to learn about their culture more.

Back in the comfort of Kar'dokh’s home, you were studying the language. A soft, thin, knitted blanket laid over your legs while you were curled on the couch in the living room. The language… was different. But Kar'dokh was more than helpful when it came to speaking and writing. Listening, that’s a whole different story. That’s all on you. Your brain is completely scrambled trying to understand the different clicks and trills they make.

With a groan, you flopped back against the back of the couch and tilted your head back, eyes closed. A familiar presences hovered over you, blocking out the light. You cracked open an eye then softly smiled at him with no teeth showing. “Hello, Kar'dokh. Come here to gloat about my struggles?” you teased him.

The brown Yautja placed his hands on the top of the couch and leaned over you. His long, dark tresses curtained around his head. “What are you struggling with?” he asked you, features soft and calm. You continued to gaze up at him. “I told you I’m here to help you.” He has changed since the first day you met him. You’ve cracked past his hard exterior to see how soft and kind he could be. You sat up and brought up the sheet of paper you were on. Kar'dokh grabbed it and looked at it closely.

Kar'dokh snorted then used a sharp nail to flick off the translator right behind your ear. Then, he began to speak in Yautja. “What it is saying is…” he spoke the word but it didn’t register in your brain. The confusion etched in your features stated you didn’t understand it. At all. Kar'dokh repeat it a few times. “Now, you try it.” The course of two years has greatly improved your Yautja speech and understanding. There are moment when you struggle… but Kar'dokh is there to catch you before you fall.

At first, the word choppily fell from your lips. Kar'dokh was patient in helping you get the word. The different facial structures definitely made it all the harder. Yet, Kar'dokh was patient with you the entire time. Even if it took all day for you to finally get it.

Once you finally got it, Kar'dokh purred and grinned at you. He combed his fingers carefully through your hair. “You did so well. I’m proud of you,” he praised to you.

In the pit of your stomach, butterflies erupted to life. Your eyes softly shut as you enjoyed the comfort his presence and touch offered. “Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without you,” you muttered softly in Yautja. The words were starting to fall from your lips with ease. His nails raked across your scalp. You sunk further into the couch with a deep groan.

A chuckle comes from the brown Yautja. You feel his presence grow closer, his heat washing over you like a blanket of comfort. One of your eyes barely cracks open to see his bright yellow one staring directly at you. You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face.

Without thinking, you leaned up and pecked him on one of his mandibles.

The whole world froze. Your heart dropped to your stomach. Internally, you were cursing at yourself. You flinched and tried to slip off the couch to put some distance between the two of you. When a hand snatched the back of you neck, lifted you over the couch, and dropped you right in front of Kar'dokh. Your shoulders scrunched up, eyes not daring to look him in the eye.

Rough finger pads gripped your chin and forced you to look directly at him. A lump began to grow in your throat the longer you stared at him.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I just-I don’t know. It just happened. I do have feelings. I don’t know if you did. And I probably just ruined what friendship we had. Now you’ll probably hate me. Please, don’t. I don’t know what I wo-“ a tongue was shoved into your mouth and promptly shut you up. Your eyes fluttered shut.

An arm snaked around your waist and tugged you close to a feverish body. Your own arms wrapped around a sturdy neck. Kar'dokh guided you towards the nearest wall and trapped you between him and it. You are forced to pull back and pant for breath. The back of your head resting against the wall.

“That’s one way to make me shut up,” you teased him and leaned up on your tippy toes to place a kiss to his lower mandible. “I’m not complaining though.” Kar'dokh growled lowly in the back of his throat and dove back into another kiss. You immediately responded in haste, hands roaming over his shoulders and felt up his powerful body.

As your hands dipped lower, Kar'dokh pressed himself harder against you. One of his legs pressed between your legs and forced them open. You gasped into the kiss but he doesn’t let you pull away this time. A rough textured hand palms at your hip for a moment before dipping under the hem of your shirt. The difference in temperature has your hair standing on edge. He continues to grope at your newly exposed skin.

For a moment, he moves back a fraction to give you a moment to take a breath. His large, brown forehead was pressed to your own. Piercing yellow eyes stare directly into yours. The hand under your shirts drifts up and skims under the swell of your unbound breasts. You gasped and arched your back, pressing yourself more into his touch. His eyes flared with fire, mandibles twitching wider.

There’s a long second passed before he rips your shirt off of your body and frees your torso. Kar'dokh’s gaze was immediately admiring the new skin he exposes. Both of his hands palm at the supple, soft skin of your breasts. Large thumbs toys over your nipples and draws them into peaks. You whined and curled your hands into fists. One snagging a dark tress of his. He purred deeply and pressed his mouth to yours again in a fierce fight for the top. Kar'dokh easily overtakes you.

You tugged on his tress. His dark nails dig into your ribcage then he pinched and twisted one of your nipples. A gasp tore at your throat and forced you to pull away from him. Your hips rutted down on the thigh between them.

“Kar, no more teasing. Please, I can’t take it anymore,” you begged him, breathless. His irises darkened.

With the open invitation, Kar'dokh simply rips off your pants and under in one move. A yelp escapes from your throat but he ignores it. The brown Yautja bumps his knee further up and grinds against your exposed slit. Heat flushed to your cheeks at the feeling of a dripping mess making its way to his thigh.

Drool drips down his jaw. Kar'dokh grips your hips and easily lifts you off of the ground, keeping you pinned to the wall. Instinctively, your legs attempted to wrap around his waist but he was larger than you. He uses his hips to hold you up as he undoes his loincloth and tosses it to the side. Your gaze is drawn downwards.

Hot and heavy. Kar'dokh’s alien cock is nestled between your thighs, resting on your stomach. The tip reaches your belly button easily. Oh shit. You felt yourself clench around nothing at the sight.

One last look in your eyes, he draws his hips back. The tapered, neon green tip was pressed to your entrance. Then, with a swift thrust, he lodges himself as deep as possible, only able to get about halfway in. Your back arches off of the wall as a wail falls from your lips. The sheer size of him makes it hard for your walls to even clench around him.

Kar'dokh uses a hand to ensnare your throat and forced you to look at him. “I know you can take more.” Another draw and thrust of his hips makes the rest of him fit snuggly inside of you. The feeling of him overwhelmed you. It felt like he was touching every nerve inside of you. Maybe he was.

A deep groan falls from his alien mouth. His eyes fluttering, on the verge of shutting at the exquisite feeling of you wrapped snuggly around him. “That’s it. I knew you could take it, little one. Mm, you’re so tight,” he muttered under his breath. Kar'dokh refocused on the task on hand.

The pace at first was sloppy, unsteady until he found the perfect beat. Loud slaps echoing throughout the living room. Your hand was still wrapped around his tress firmly, using it as a lifeline. Your jaw dropped as each thrust forced the air out of your lungs.

“Yes, yes. Perfect. Been wanting to do this-ugh, for so long. Make you my mate. Gonne breed you. Have my pups,” he rambled amidst the brutal fucking he provided. His claw dug into your hips and held you in place.

You couldn’t the snort that left you as you tried to stay sane. “T-that’s n-ah, no possible, Kar.” From what you know of, it shouldn’t be. No matter how potent their seed is. Or the fact the tip of his shaft was slamming against you cervix with each rut into you.

Black nails dug deeper into your flesh, threatening to break the barrier. “Doesn’t matter. Our technology will fix that,” he growled back and doubled his efforts. Your reply was cut off with a high pitched whine. The brutalness was wrecking to your smaller frame. There wasn’t a chance you would be able to walk tomorrow.

He leaned further into your space and buried his face into the crook of your neck. His long, pink tongue slithered over your salty flesh, tasting you. Blood pool around the nails that finally pierced the flesh of your hips.

“You’re mine. My mate!” Your pants grew whiny. You had no choice but to hold on as the first wave of your orgasm started to wash over you. Your eyes crossed as the pleasure became overwhelming.

Fangs bite down into the crook of your neck, scaring as his mate. With a deep, resonating snarl, Kar'dokh hips go flush with yours. You mewled at the feeling of his throbbing cock taking up every available space inside of you then some more. Spurts of cum began to fill your insides.

None of it was able to spill out and be of waste. Something was lodged just shy of your entrance, plugging you up. You squirmed in his hold and tried to figure it out what it was. Then, the light bulb went off.

A knot. Kar'dokh had knotted you. The thought sent a shiver down your spine. He really was doing everything he can to make you pregnant. He unlatched his teeth from your shoulder and licked at the dribbling blood.

At first, you smiled. That turned into a smirk and soon enough, you were laughing softly, soaking in the dopamine in your system. Kar'dokh’s licking stopped. The brown Yautja pulls away to look you in the eye, confused on your laughter.

“I don’t know how this will work. You won’t be able to get me pregnant,” you explained to him again, trying to get the point across. “Why do you even like me? I’m a human.”

One hand detaches the claws in your hip to grip at your chin. “It’s because I am attracted to you. Ooman or not, you are attractable both physically and mentally.” Oh… that’s really sweet of him. Your cheeks flushed with heat again. You couldn’t even duck your head off to the side.

“Then, you need to raise your standards, Kar. Or you just need to get out more often.” Kar'dokh responded with a snort and returned to nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He doesn’t entertain your words. Instead, he holds you in his arms, waiting for his knot to deflate.

So he could do it all over again.

Sure enough, a human can get pregnant by a Yautja.

[cloversnstrawberries]

oc intro post ! ! young!serial killer grandpa & time traveler reader

masterlist | requests open !

warnings; Mentions of violence, murder, serial killings, Everett's superiority/god complex, misanthropy (hatred of the human race), manipulation, possessive behavior, mental instability, and there might be more that i forgot :( if i missed a major one, please let me know and i'll add it !!!

additional notes; i read "garden of the dead flowers" a while back (in which i totally did the daily pass thing. yeah. totally!), and i thought it had a lot of potential for a platonic yan,, i didn't like the ending much for other reasons, but i'm fixing it here. with my oc. as god intended, of course. of course, if you're familiar with the webcomic at all, this isn't really that similar; except for the very core basis ^^ this is the option that won the second poll :D

! ! introduction blurb & moodboard below the cut ! !

Everett has met a lot of people before, that's just how it is, being the son of a wealthy businessman and a socialite. He's met a lot of strange people as well, eccentric people that makes Everett need a double-take.

But none quite so strange as you, who simply... showed up in the back garden one day. You were disoriented, wearing odd clothes as you patted around your pockets for... something. A handkerchief, maybe?

Either way, you'd be an easy kill. He'd never seen you around before, perhaps a runaway then. Nobody would miss you, in that case. And If they did, then they'd have a difficult time tracing you all the way to Everett's backyard.

But something made that train of thought stop before it even fully departed. Something about you made him hesitate, and subsequently approach and offer you help. To pull you up, dazed as you were, and help you into the sitting room.

You continued to be quite out of it, and when he returned, tea in hand-- you took it without question. You hadn't said a word, not to him or otherwise. All you did was look around, face pinched like you trying to figure something out.

By the end of it, Everett isn't quite sure what made him take such a liking to you. When you opened up, you tripped over your words-- you sounded funny, regardless of that. Saying words and phrases he's never heard, but he didn't pay much mind to that.

Regardless of your little verbal stumbles, you ended up telling him that you 'don't know how you got here', which he assumed you meant the town in general, or maybe just his backyard specifically.

The first conversation he genuinely held with you, you would always give these nonsensical answers that provided no more knowledge than before. When he asked "Where are you from?" You'd respond with "Not here.", or how you got here-- you'd always pause, and try to think it over before finally settling on "...I don't know."

Amnestic, maybe? That's what he could make of it, anyways. Other than your dazed behavior, you showed no real signs of a concussion. He set you up in a guest room-- and he doesn't know what makes him do it. Even as you wake up the next morning, no longer so confused--

Usually, he wouldn't really like people like you. Those who treat him so casually, those who treat everybody like that; like they were everybody's pal. It irked Everett to no end before,

So why is it different when you do it? With your strange words, strange habits, and even stranger way of dress-- what's got him so interested in you?

What sets you apart of his usual fare--? He could go and argue that he helped you recover so he could add you to his roster of victims, because he's not one for kicking someone when their down...

But he couldn't even fool himself with that lie. Really, he doesn't know why or how you managed to worm your way into his good graces so quickly-- enough where he let you stay in his home for the time being.

He could be harboring a runaway, either from a family or maybe even if the law. That could put him in risk, if cops come looking for you-- find his home, found evidence of what he does in and around it.

Again, it's just something about you... It makes it impossible to even think of driving a knife straight through your heart. What would be easy for him with everyone else, was like fighting an uphill battle when it came to you.

Either way, he's not letting you go now. Not after week of getting to know you-- after getting you new clothes to help fit in, getting his parents to make the school take you as a student. Just so you didn't have to sit and rot in that big house all day, of course.

He won't let you outside the grounds. Maybe because he doesn't want his new friend taken, the only person that's been entirely immune to his constant need to hurt others-- either by yourself, or anyone who's looking for you.

But he doesn't tell you that. He says he just wants to make sure you're healthy and not about to keel over from an untreated brain injury and whatnot.

Everett has grown quite fond of you, even if you're a little strange.

Maybe it's because you're so strange, that you're exempt from his usually unforgiving drive to prey on others, and rip them limb from limb like they were bugs under a microscope.