#my little brain worm finally formed its thought into this

[feral-bunny31]

Ok ok ok ok so I’ve been reading a few fics/prompts of Danny Phantom having to declare war on the living (he’s ghost king ofc) and I’ve had an idea slowing forming in my head with each one I’ve read and it’s just how I’d envision that scene happening and I need to get it out so here goes (putting it below the cut bc idk how much I’m going to write) how it leads up to this, your choice if you see this and decide to write more/around it. Ok here goes:

They had 13 hours left of the 3 days King Phantom, High King of the Dead, Defeater of the Dark, Son of Time, The In-between, The Balance, The All Star, had given them. 13 hours. 13. The number of the dead, ironic really that that was the amount left.

He gave them 3 days to dismantle the Ghost Investigation Ward, to release their prisoners, his people. 13 hours left and they couldn’t get them to yield their ways. To give up and break up and release the dead they had tortured. King Phantom, no older than 18, gave them a warning and they were failing. War was coming and King Phantom warned them he and his infinite army of the lost souls of this plane and the in betweens were going to march.

It was his final choice to be made in his existence. His last option. His espoir perdu. He didn’t want to do this, he hated doing this but he had to and everyone saw it as his warning was broadcasted onto every possible screen in the United States.

2 hours. They had 2 hours left and they were giving up. Trying to get as many people to safety and shelter as they could. They needed to get the civilians to hide. Gods, there was only an hour left.

And as they watched the sky above Illinois- of all places- shatter and breaks like glass they saw the King emerge as the final seconds ended.

He was stone faced, no one behind him as he stood, floating in the shattered rift of the realms, the portal green. So so green. Swirling like hypnosis. Black armor draped over his body, a sword held tight, white knuckled at his side, a crown of burning ice drifting close to his head. His face was set, cold to those that see him that don’t know him. Expression hard except for the minute furrow of his brow, seen only by those that know him, that see who he is, white hair whipping softly around his face, casting shadows over his green eyes. Oh his eyes. They were the only thing able to show what was going through his mind. They held so much.

Years of experience, of pain, of loss, of suffering and sadness. Of struggling to be heard, to fight for his people and those of this earth. To keep the peace but save what he can in this destructive world. His eyes held so much words didn’t exist to tell what all they showed.

Calmly, slowly, deathly, his sword arm rose. Rose high above his head and fell. Fell until it was straight out, a signal that the war had begun.

Thousands of souls poured out of the portal, though they spared the citizens around not a single glance. They were vaguely human, some just skeletons, some races long since extinct. They only had eyes for the buildings that were beginning to scream. The voices of their prisoners rising until every single one of the Ghost Investigation Ward’s buildings rang with the rage and hurt and pain of those souls.

The army, still pouring from the crack between realms, only targeted those buildings. Flooding the United States searching for those buildings. Men in white suits poured out of the buildings. Raising weapons to the army and unloading everything they had, uncaring of the civilians they hit and the homes and jobs they destroyed, killed.

Then they noticed it, Phantom on the front lines, defending and protecting the civilians as he tore his way through the men in white, Agents they called themselves. Giant frozen Yetis came with him, tending to the wounded he had protected. They creates shelters and barriers of ice to take the wounded and heal them. Bandage them and cover the dead with soft sheets.

The army avoided and even blocked their enemies fire from hitting those shelters, from hitting the homes and jobs as best they could while still fighting. They were angry, rage filled that the Agent cared so little about civilians, all in the name of “getting rid of those ecto scum”

King Phantom and his army fought for 3 days, wiping out any Agent and their buildings that ever existed. Freed his people and made sure they returned safely to the realm of the dead, the Infinite Realms, before he and his army slowly worked on restoring the damaged buildings of the civilians. He gave the dead proper care, tending to the souls that had come back, sending them the portal after they said goodbye to their family.

And when all was said and done, he collapsed, beaten and bloody, into the arms of a god, a being that shifted ages, a clock shoved into his chest, was his chest, and sobbed. Sobbed for all the lives taken, even of the Agents. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want this death and destruction. He wanted peace, for his people and for the living. He was Balance! Why couldn’t he have brought balance peacefully? Why couldn’t he stop this from happening? He tried! Tried so hard to keep this from being a choice. He hated that he had to make this decision.

When everything was restored the best they could and wounded were healed and dead buried, King Phantom gathered his people, entered the rift between realms, and closed it. The one vision of the sky shattering like glass reversing and piecing itself back together, and the army of souls was gone.

Ok how’d I do? Thoughts? Comments? Concerns? Please let me know! I love the feedback

[superblysubpar]

series masterlist | chapter two

chapter summary: Steve brings his daughter to her first day of Kindergarten.

the song: My Girl by The Temptations

6,251 words | please see the masterlist for warnings! | my blog is 18+

Steve can’t be sure if the sigh that escapes his lips and clouds up in front of him is due to the anticipation of the inevitable sticky situation that’s about to occur or annoyance in himself for continuing to provide her the jam. He supposes it could just be a sigh of acceptance, finally coming to terms with the new and almost constant state of his hair lately. Most likely though, it’s just a content, tiny burst of affection.

Because that’s the overwhelming feeling that blooms in his chest when sticky, sweet strawberry smelling fingers land in his freshly styled hair. His eyes flit up from the green sparkly laces between his fingers to see her tiny lips forming her patented pout.

Hair a bit lighter than his, curls slightly in a mind of its own kind of way beneath little pig tails, bouncing just above shoulders that are tucked up to her ears as she tilts her head to look around his. Big, curious eyes that he claims are like her mom’s, but everyone is adamant are also a carbon copy of his too - just like her nose that scrunches all too familiarly, dotted with tiny freckles that seem to multiple every day.

Steve taps the side of Charlie’s ankle as he finishes the first bow, and she sticks her other foot out for him, yellow lights at the center of daisies flashing as she stomps it down on the gravel. He glances back up to find her eyes still trained on the playground behind him, the furrow between her eyebrows only growing deeper as her fingers tug in his hair - either for his full attention like it isn’t already on her, or the aforementioned jam predicament, he isn’t sure.

“Daddy?”

He finishes the second bow, and removes her hands from his hair gently, running his thumb over the back of her knuckles and he sighs again. She is so sticky.

Steve shakes his head at his own thoughts and releases her hands to search his pockets, the other chucks the side of his knuckle under her chin.

“Talk to me, Goose.”

Her pout disappears, a giggle slips past her lips just like always, but it’s not long lasting when a shriek comes from the playground behind him. Her voice lowers as she asks in a wobbly tone, “Who will do the underdogs?”

“Well, uh, I’m sure your teacher knows how to do them, cutie,” he reassures while his forehead wrinkles and he tries to determine if she’s looking for some reason not to go suddenly or if she’s just genuinely curious. She does take her swings seriously, so it’s not an out of the ordinary question.

Steve finds a napkin, and decides it’ll have to do for now, grimacing as the paper material hits his tongue.

“But what if she can’t, daddy?” Her voice whines as he continues his stand off with the sticky residue.

That’s it. He’s suing Smuckers.

He hums, squeezing her fingers that wiggle between his and the napkin doing absolutely shit all.

“Then we’ll just have to teach her, right? Everyone’s gotta know how to do the underdogs.”

Charlie huffs, but she shrugs her shoulders in some sort of agreement it seems. He wonders how someone so tiny can be full of such complicated emotions, curious thoughts, and brains that he absolutely can’t keep up with, yet still need her shoes tied and someone on jam removal duty most mornings.

Steve stares at her tiny hand in his palm, green sparkles on clear nails that make him swallow down something stuck in his throat, make his free hand run down his nose and swipe underneath it.

Don’t you dare cry, you fucking loser.

But he can’t help but feed the worm that’s been digging deeper and deeper inside of him for months: What if she’s not ready?

And he knows, he really knows, after all the long talks and preparation for this very moment, that it’s him who’s not ready, not her.

She’s so ready, and going to wow the socks off of every teacher with her brilliant and funny little brain and she is the greatest, most precious thing in the world and nothing bad is going to happen to her, dingus.

He recites it to himself over and over, verbatim what Robin told him as he tries to move on to her second hand. But as the gold heart shaped locket dangling from her neck hits his forehead, all he can think is, that starting today, the room full of people he trusts with her safety is expanding. And the problem with opening that door to the room is not Charlie exploring beyond the safe wall’s he’s built, it’s who can get in when he’s not there 24/7 to guard that door.

Visions of flashing Christmas lights, baseball bats meeting gray flesh, Russian guard’s hands and their beady eyes, potentially rabid bats and, you know, just the earth cracking in half and the world almost ending multiple times, while losing people he really cares about, threaten to overtake his mind and he huffs in then out, a quick and calming breath.

Steve wets the napkin with his tongue once more, but pieces of it stick to it this time and he sputters and blows a raspberry, and Charlie’s giggles soothe any worry that was climbing over him like writhing vines.

He let’s go of her hands and makes a bigger show of removing the wet clumps of cardboard tasting napkin from his tongue and coughs loudly. She laughs harder and his eyes widen and his mouth drops in a dramatic gasp.

“Are you laughing at your dad?” He jabs at her sides lightly, tickling and poking her while the napkin falls to the ground and she giggles harder. “Huh? That’s not very nice!”

Steve picks up Charlie, squeezing at her wiggling and gasping body as she laughs so loud he can’t even remember what he was so worried about. He blows a raspberry into her neck so she shrieks in a laughing protest, “Daddy! Too much…” she laughs and wiggles more, gasping around her words, “Too much happy!”

He’ll take the sticky fingers and messed up hair and cardboard taste in his mouth and worrying about another human more than he ever could about himself every day if it means he gets to hear that every once in awhile.

“Mr. Harrington?”

Steve spins at the sound of his name, slowing his tickling. As his body turns and he’s met with your smile, he nearly drops his kid.

You are so pretty.

His mouth goes dry, like the entire napkin is balled up inside of it. He’s sure his cheeks are turning pink from how warm he feels while staring at you. Your fingers wrapped around a bright yellow thermos tap at it while a clipboard rests wedged between your side and elbow. Your light gray tshirt is decorated with sparkly planets and the slogan “Kindergarten is out of this world!” and is tucked into a bright green skirt that he can sense Charlie eyeing appreciatively, though apprehensively from her new residence tucked into his neck.

He runs a palm down Charlie’s spine, reassuring her as you tilt your head and smile wider at her, your nose scrunching up when you do. It takes your kind eyes turning their gaze to him again for him to realize you’ve never met and you were asking if he was Mr. Harrington.

“H-hi. Yeah, I mean yes. I’m Mr. Harrington. I mean, I don’t, kids at school call me that, and I guess parents, but I mean that is my name. I’m Steve, Steve Harrington.”

He squeezes his eyes closed shut as if to erase that moment from existence forever. He can practically see Robin drawing a line on a whiteboard in the ‘You Suck’ column.

Your laugh drags his eyelids open, and it tugs at something inside of his chest that he thought disappeared a long time ago. Your hand extends and he bites his cheek, cursing all jelly and jam brands. He raises his hands up almost in surrender and Charlie clings to his neck harder, her face hidden in his shoulder as the back of her thighs balance in the crook of his elbow.

“I’m afraid we had a bit of a sticky jam situation this morning, so I don’t know if you want to proceed with a handshake.”

Proceed? With a handshake? Dude, you’re killing me here.

Your shoulders shrug, your voice all soft and smooth and a little sleepy as you joke, “They literally make us Kindergarten teachers take a class where they simply throw sticky substances at us, and if you flinch or grimace, you’ll never graduate. It’s all a part of the job.” Your hand clasps around his gently, but in a firm shake, as you introduce yourself, “I’m Miss Honey.”

He can’t help but notice the Miss not a Mrs.

Charlie perks up at your name, her forehead knocks his chin and he blinks rapidly from the sensation and her shout directly in his ear, “You’re my teacher!”

“I am?” You gasp, excited and smiling at her when you do and he thinks he might already be in love with you.

Charlie nods and then exclaims, “Daddy calls me honey!”

Steve fights a smile and his arm wrapped around her waist squeezes as he whispers, “How do we introduce ourselves?”

Charlie beams at him and slides down his front, foot pushing off of his thigh for leverage. She jumps to the ground forcefully, and almost trips and falls face first into the cement.

Steve’s already moving forward in anticipation of big crocodile tears, but stops himself when he sees you don’t move a muscle and simply watch her find her balance. He watches as you bite your lip in a way that tells him you’re hiding a smile as Charlie sticks her hand out towards you.

When you take it, she shakes it and takes a deep breath before slowly reciting, “My name is Charlotte Maxine Harrington. I live at six eight two Poppy Lane and my daddy’s phone number is seven six five four two…five-“

“Woah cutie,” he stops her, hands resting on her shoulders, and kisses the top of her head. “We don’t have to give her the whole speech, how about just the name?”

Crouched down to Charlie’s level now, you tilt your head at her, eyes widening as the tone of your voice turns to something syrupy sweet that he recognizes in the way he talks to her himself sometimes as you ask, “You memorized all of that Charlotte? That’s amazing! And there’s more? A whole speech?!”

She nods, eyes big and wide and voice excited as she hums, “Mhm. For policemans like Mr. Jim and firesmens like Uncle Eddie and teachers like Auntie Robin. Cause every-eveybody calls me Charlie, but if I’m scared and I need help they need my whole name and daddy’s phone number and if any food makes me itchy.”

Steve knows without a shadow of a doubt that not only are his cheeks pink, the tips of his ears are now too when you look up at him with raised eyebrows and something twinkling in your gaze. He clears his throat and focuses on his hand running through Charlie’s curls instead of you.

“Daddy’s gotta make sure his right hand gal’s got all the facts, right?” He kisses the top of her head again, inhaling her L’Oreal mangoes and strawberry and something distinctly his daughter that he is certain would be what the sun smells like if it could be bottled.

She tilts her head back, resting against his dark Levi’s so she can see him. Her grin is wide, showing off dimples she didn’t get from him as she nods again. “Right. Always be pepared.”

Steve brushes his thumb down her nose, and something stings behind his eyes again. He looks back over at you, slowly standing from your crouch with a fond gaze staring back at him. He swallows before his lips part, prepared to tell you that it’s all wrong. He’s not Steve Harrington, this is not Charlie Harrington, and no way is anyone starting Kindergarten today, but Charlie’s shriek never lets the words leave his mouth.

It’s like a bucket of ice cold water dumps over his head as he spins to watch Charlie race towards the parking lot, about to yell far too loud from fear, when she comes to halt right at the curb. Impatiently bouncing as her favorite person waves and runs towards her.

The familiar honey tinged red waves bounce as Robin scoops Charlie up in a hug that can only be comfortable for the two of them, all squeezing and no grace, kissing all over her face as she gushes and fawns over her like she literally didn’t see her last night.

“Hey babe! You look splendidly spectacular this morning! Did you do something different with your hair?”

“No!” Charlie giggles and spins once back on the ground, as if to show off her outfit. Which is pretty cute, if he does say so himself. Robin taps a finger to her chin. She holds up curls and circles Charlie, inspecting.

“Not the hair, not the hair…aha! Your nails! Green nail polish!”

Charlie shakes her head and puts her hands on her hips, and Steve relaxes as she tells her that Auntie Robin you painted them last night and how could she forget already, no it’s not that.

You’re watching him closely when he turns to look back at you, rubbing the back of his neck under your appraisal. Your smile all knowing as you reassure, “She’s gonna be fine, Mr. Harrington. Stopping to look both ways and being aware of cars is first week stuff, she’s a natural. And that speech? Time for you to relax.”

He knows he was never one for hiding how he felt from his facial features, but after having a kid and becoming a teacher, he’s had to learn to keep himself fairly composed. So he’s not sure if you can already read him that well or this is just the speech you give to all the parents. Nonetheless, he smiles back at you.

“I’ve never heard of that word before, what does it mean? Relax?”

Your laughter at his terrible joke makes something in his chest swell, almost as sweet of a sound as Charlie’s. He glances over to see Robin smacking her forehead and exclaiming that oh of course it’s the fabulous new green overalls.

“Also, call me Steve, please,” you smile politely and he knows you won’t, because he does the same thing to parents who tell him the same thing, “And I think it’s in that packet we had to fill out, but I’m a teacher over at the middle school, um, art, and so I’m only like ten minutes away if something happens, and she should be really good, she’s a great listener, but I know how she can be so please tell me. Seriously. And I know she didn’t do pre-school, but she’s so smart, she’s just struggling with her R’s and H’s sometimes, but I honestly think it’s because she talks so fast she just doesn’t care to slow down-“

Your fingers touch his wrist, catching it as he talks with his hands and he stops immediately, blinking at you with a held breath.

It’s like touching his skin shocks you and your fingers release from around his wrist quickly before you take a step back, shaking your head while biting your lip.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“No, it’s oka-“

“Dingus!” Wing woman extraordinare interrupts, “Why on earth did cutiepie here just tell me she did not get a picture in this fabulous first day of school outfit?”

He focus’ on the pair walking towards him hand in hand with a scowl he quickly hides, rolling his eyes at Robin when Charlie quips, “Yeah, dad!”

Steve rubs the side of his cheek, glaring at Robin as you make yourself busy with your clipboard. “Because, we were gonna be late after we were so focused on finding the green overalls, and the green hair ties, and the green shoelaces and the green-“

“Because green is the best,” Charlie interrupts while putting her hands on her hips as if it weren’t clear how exasperated she was with him from her tone.

Robin snorts from behind her and mirrors her pose before sticking her tongue out at him. “Yeah, dad!”

Your laughter reminds Charlie of your presence and she tugs Robin’s matching polished fingers with her own forward.

“Miss Honey, this is Auntie Robin. She lives at…um…oh yeah…four one three-“

“Woah kiddo!” Robin whispers and crouches down, looking around dramatically like a spy. “Does Miss Honey know the super secret password? ‘Cause, remember, only the friends who know the super secret password get to know where Aunt Robin lives.”

Charlie gasps like she’s just recalled this important fact and nods, face seriouos. Robin mimes zipping her lips, locking, then throws the invisible key over her shoulder. Charlie copies her, then promptly steps towards you and loudly whispers: “Pickles.”

Steve bites his cheek and Robin laughs, running a hand over her curls. “We’ll keep practicing the whole locking of lips thing, huh?”

“Kay,” Charlie shrugs before she tugs on Steve’s pant leg. “Daddy?”

“Yeah?” He watches her grip the side of jeans in her little fist and stare at the swings with that pout on her lips again.

“Can I swing?”

A lump in his throat forms when he looks up at you, you glance at your watch and nod with a smile.

“Sure, cutie.” He starts to take off her back pack straps and she’s already racing across the gravel and he calls out loudly, “Don’t forget to be nice to new friends! Take turns! Say please!”

“Tank you!” She shouts back over her shoulder.

Steve groans at it all, her racing away, her forgotten H. He watches her slow down as she reaches the swings and point to an empty one next to a boy already pumping his legs. He nods eagerly and Charlie talks animatedly with her hands as she climbs into the swing.

He lets all of his weight drop against Robin, Charlie’s backpack limp in his fingers when his temple knocks hers and he whispers, “I can’t fucking do this.”

Robin sniffles and his head whips up.

“Are you crying?”

She swats at his chest and avoids his gaze, “No. I have something in my eye. Both eyes. Like a branch or something. Just…” she holds out her hand and blinks blue eyes that have turned a little more shiny, “Give me your keys so I can go get the polaroid, ‘cause I know you brought it, you sentimental idiot.”

He drops the car keys into her palm and she quickly turns away from him before he can catch the tears slipping down her cheeks. When he turns back around you’re hiding a smile behind your thermos again.

Steve clears his throat and runs his thumb and forefinger down his nose, squinting at the playground.

“It’s okay to cry you know, most parents do.”

“I’m not,” he clarifies, words thick in his throat and a struggle to get out.

“Okay, I believe you,” yours easy and tinged with laughter.

“I’m not,” he begs, pleading with someone in the universe so the burn behind his eyes doesn’t fully form and fall.

You must hear it, and decide to give him an out, because you pull up your clipboard. “I actually did need to ask you a few questions, you were my last parent to snag before we all go inside. We never got your authorized pick up list? Just if you can’t ever pick up Charlie, who we’re allowed to send her home with? We tend to also use this as an emergency contact list if there was ever some reason we couldn’t get a hold of you.”

The word emergency makes his heart beat harder and he looks over at Charlie swinging to make sure he can still see her.

“Oh,” he nods, licking his lips as he thinks through it. “How many people can I put?”

“As many as you want,” you shrug before adjusting your coffee thermos in the crook of your elbow so you can write on the clipboard.

“Here,” he grabs the thermos, “Let me. I feel like if I let you spill coffee on that skirt, Charlie might actually never forgive me, as you heard, we’re in a green phase.”

He’s awarded that laugh of yours again before you whisper a quiet thank you. Your lashes kiss as you blink at him, pen poised on the paper. It’s when your eyebrows lift expectantly that he realizes you’re waiting for him to say something still.

“Oh! Um…honestly…” he looks at Charlie who’s smiling at Robin holding up the camera now and nods towards her. “Robin Buckley,” he lists her phone number before adding on, “She’s a teacher here, music, um, honestly she might be picking her up most days. I coach soccer here in the fall after school, so I should make it, but in the spring I’m over at the high school for baseball.”

“Okay great,” you smile as you finish writing her number and look up at him, “Anyone else?”

“I guess Eddie Munson?”

“The ‘firesmens’?” You ask as you write the name.

Steve laughs, fiddling with Charlie’s backpack in his hands, “Yeah, and I guess I should do Nancy too…”

He gives you both of their numbers along with Hopper and Joyce and he doesn’t even want to imagine what would be going on that you couldn’t get a hold of him, Robin, Eddie, or Nancy and had to resort to calling them. And what’s worse, if you couldn’t get a hold of them either.

“We almost never have to call even the second person on the list Mr. Harrington, she’s gonna be just fine.”

“Right,” he nods, but doesn’t really believe you.

“For relationship, Robin is Charlie’s Aunt is what I gathered?”

“Oh,” he laughs and rubs at his temple, “Um by blood? No. She’s just my best friend, but I mean, I guess, to Charlie, yeah. Closest person to having a real one I think.”

“Oh, okay, gotcha” you nod, glancing down at the list and writing.

Steve feels the need to clarify when you hover over Eddie and Nancy, and he isn’t sure why. “They’re married, shouldn’t have said that. And again, family friends I guess, but Charlie calls them Aunt and Uncle. And Jim and Joyce, do you know Hopper? The chief? Anyways, they’re just Mr. Jim and Mrs. Joyce, but they’re essentially her grandparents I guess? I don’t really know…”

Your face does that thing that he hates, the look like you wanna tell him you’re sorry, or you want to comfort him but don’t know how. And it’s not like he doesn’t appreciate where it comes from, he just hates anyone thinking he can’t handle it, can’t handle her, all by himself, or feeling sorry for him in any way. Because there’s nothing to be sorry for, not when he has her.

Your mouth parts, but before you can speak, thunder rumbles loudly overhead.

“Oh, shit,” Steve groans, looking up at the angry clouds. The clear morning sky slowly turning gray without him noticing and he looks over to see Charlie already running for Robin’s legs.

“Not a fan of thunderstorms?” You ask as you watch her and several other kiddos get scooped up by parents.

Steve shakes his head, lips turning down in a frown as Robin whispers in her ear and starts back towards him. “No, she really doesn’t. No matter what I say or do, nothing helps. I honestly don’t know where it came from, I don’t think it’s the loud noises of the thunder, we’ve never lost power…I feel so helpless. Or useless. Like I can’t fix it for her. ”

The smile you offer attempts to reassure, but Charlie’s eyes fill with tears and Robin rubs a hand down her back, looking over her head at Steve with worried eyes.

“Sorry, I gotta…” he apologizes but he’s already moving towards her and he hopes you understand.

Charlie’s sniffles grow louder as another rumble cracks overhead, burrowing her head into Robin’s sternum and kicking her shoes against her thighs so hard, the little daisies light up.

Robin grimaces at the rough kick, and Steve gives her a mouthed apology as he relieves her of her comforting duties. “Hey, calm down honey. I’m right here. It’s just the rain being a little loud, announcing it’s coming soon, remember?”

He watches you and Robin and some of the other teachers start to gently guide parents and kids inside, smiling and distracting from the incoming rain, and he starts to follow but Charlie wails in his ear as he gets further away from the car.

“Dad-dy, nooo,” she sobs, shaking her head, “I don’t wanna go.”

His eyes blur as he sets her down in the entryway, kids running past as parents give him kind smiles when they walk around them.

“What?!” He tries to sound excited, but he’s wavering, throat too tight and eyes burning, “Why don’t you wanna go now? You get to color, and meet new friends! You get to go play music with Robin!”

“But,” she hiccups around a big sob and his thumb catches a new fat tear trying to trail down her pink cheeks. “You-you leaving and and I don’t like the storm and-“

“I don’t have to leave yet! We get to go put your backpack away, and see your new classroom together. Can we do that? I was so excited to see where you get to sit and draw me pictures every day.”

He’s grasping at straws as she shakes her head no and tries to climb into his lap. And he doesn’t even care if he shouldn’t, he lets her. And he squeezes her and kisses the top of her head as he cradles her, walking deeper inside.

Steve whispers in her ear about how Miss Honey must be magic cause guess what? Char, your cubbie is green. How’d she know? And oh my gosh, no way, someone has a sleeping beauty lunchbox. All the while humming her favorite lullaby between the exciting things he hopes grab her attention. And soon she’s not crying anymore, wet lashes tickling his neck as she peeks at the things he’s pointing out. Soon she’s climbing off of his lap as he forces his voice to sound happy about her hanging up her power rangers backpack she just had to have, and holding his hand as she walks to the doorway of the classroom.

All the parents are gone, aside from a few taking last peeks at their kids drawing or playing and Charlie clings to his knee as he hesitates in the doorway himself.

You’re knelt on the ground pointing at some books with two kids when you spot them. He’s not sure what you say to them, but then you’re walking over to them and not even looking at Steve as you crouch in front of Charlie hiding behind his leg, your sole focus on her and making her feel better.

“Thank goodness you’re here, Charlie!” You tell her, thoroughly relieved, “I have the biggest hugest favor to ask you, will you help me?”

Charlie looks at you, and takes a step forward as she quietly asks, “Help?”

Your nod is so enthusiastic, and you reach out your hand for hers, waiting until she rests her fingers in yours to lace them together. “I heard you are your dad’s best helper, and I need help finding all of the green crayons, can you do that with me? There’s so many in this bin! We need them for a special project we’re going to do later.”

She’s about to nod, he knows she is, when lighting flashes outside, and despite the blinds being closed, she knows. Charlie flinches and starts to retreat but you sigh, and nod your head, smiling still. “I know, rain can be scary sometimes. Do you know what I like to do when it rains?”

Charlie shakes her head no, and you smile encouragingly at her as she gets closer and places both of her hands on your arm instead of holding your hand, squeezing close to your side. “I love to bake cookies. They make my house smell so good. What’s your favorite kind of cookie?”

“Um…” Charlie swipes at her cheek and looks around the room at kids playing and laughing. “Monstermashes.”

“Monstermashes? What are those? I’ve never heard of them, can you tell me what all goes in them while we find all the green crayons?”

She let’s you lead her to the table with the bin where two other kids coloring smile at her and say hi. She sits and you squeeze her shoulder as she tells you all about the cookies. It’s when you risk a glance at the door that Steve realizes he’s just standing there, crying.

Your smile is kind, but your head tilts ever so subtly, telling him to slip out while he can and he knows he should, but the fact that he doesn’t get to hug her goodbye or say have a great first day or I love you is ripping him apart and he squeezes his eyes closed.

He’s not sure how he makes it out to his car with how clouded his vision is, but he does. Thankfully he doesn’t have a sob leave his lips until the maroon door is slammed and his forehead presses to the leather wheel. He notices a little stack of polaroids under an orange post it that says “You sentimental idiot” on the passenger seat. He cries more when he sees the curled fingers around his. He cups his cheeks and slaps them, clearing his throat while muttering under his breath to get a grip.

And he does, eventually.

He goes to teacher workshop and sets up his own classroom and lesson plans and catches up with his co-workers. The thunder only lasts about a half hour, and then it’s just a normal rainy day, which he hopes you’ve managed alright with her. He only calls Robin once but that’s only because she yells at him that of course she’s fine, you think she’d let anything happen to that sweet angel? And he only grabs his keys to go early three times, but never makes it fully out to the car. He does have to take something from his little orange bottle when his breath isn’t quite right when lights flicker for no reason, but turns out it was just the custodian doing some checks. And then finally, it’s already time to go pick her up, and he’s not proud of this, but he speeds at least ten over the whole way there.

So maybe he’s a little early.

He’s slow to approach the classroom, and leans against the wall on the other side of the doorway, just out of sight. He hears your voice singing some sort of clean up song and the kids responding, he closes his eyes and tries to focus on if he can hear her. When the song is over, he opens his eyes to find you smiling at him from the doorway. Your shirt is stained, your hair messier than it was this morning. You’re clearly exhausted but absolutely overjoyed that this is your job as you call for anyone who’s favorite color is green to come grab their back pack. Charlie races towards the door with a few other kids and waves excitedly at him from her place in line.

When you tell them to grab their backpacks, she exits the room and leaps into his arms when he crouches down, expecting the hug. He squeezes her tightly, “Hey cutie, did you have a good day? I missed you so much!”

“So so so so good daddy, we played with cars and colored planets and Auntie Robin taught us a new song and and oh my gosh there’s too much happy to tell you.”

He gets a little choked up at that, a sob threatens to hiccup out of him that he tries to cover up with a laugh, kissing her cheek. “That’s so great! Go get your backpack, I think Miss Honey is waiting.”

“Oh!” She jumps out of his arms and skips to her cubbie, and brings it to you where you slip some papers into a folder, notably sparkly and green, into her backpack after you do the same with three other kids and three different colored folders. The others go sit down on a rug and you smile at him.

“Hi Mr. Harrington, Charlie had such a great first day! She was my awesome helper and she has some art projects to show you that I think you’re really gonna like. There’s also a note about what we did today for you in there, that also has some dates to keep in mind and it’ll always have announcements for things like snack rotations.”

Charlie tugs at his pant leg as Steve smiles at you, “Hold on, sweetie.” He runs a hand over her curls before turning back to you and lowering his voice, “Thank you. For this morning, but also, you know, the whole day.”

“It’s literally my job,” you joke, but you smile warmly at him, “But, you’re welcome. You just need to sign Charlie out and then you’re all set!”

You grab a binder from it’s place by the door and flip to the H’s, and hold it open for him. Typed up information about Charlie on top, and the dates of the month in a calendar for signatures, and at the bottom, the list of names. He gets a little emotional seeing: ‘Robin Buckley - Aunt’ and all the other relationships you’ve given instead of family friend.

Charlie tugs harder, this time on his belt loop and he laughs, picking her up. “Hey, I said hold on, what’s got ants in your pants, huh?”

She taps at his cheek, big eyes blinking at him as she whines, “Daddy, this is so impotant, I promise. No ants.”

“Okay,” he laughs, signing his name in the today’s box, “What’s up?”

“What are the crunchies?”

She asks it so seriously and he has no idea what she’s talking about, he looks to you for help.

You’re thanking the kids for the calm and listening bodies before you’re calling up kids who’s favorite animal is a penguin, so he looks at Charlie who’s waiting expectantly. “What are what?”

“The crunchies daddy. What are they? Miss Honey doesn’t know them.”

“Cutie, I don’t know what you’re talking about. What are crunchies?” He bends down with her to grab her backpack that’s still on the floor and he hears you laugh.

“Daddy the monstermashes,” Charlie whines, like he should know this.

“Oh,” he draws it out, “The M&M’s? The chocolate candy I put in?”

“No,” Charlie whines, and she turns to you with a pout. “Daddy doesn’t know too. It’s no use! Hopeless!”

He doesn’t know how or where she learns these phrases so quickly and how she uses them so correctly but he does know that he’s not alone in thinking it’s the cutest thing ever when you smile at her.

“Hold on, I bet we can figure it out together!” You tick off on your fingers as kids who love potato chips go to their cubbies and get their equally different folders and a second parent enters the hallway. He starts to wonder how many folders you bought to be prepared for all their different interests. Colors, animals, shapes, characters, sparkles and no sparkles. He wonders what else you did today.

“Let’s see, we have peanut butter…” Charlie nods and you gasp, “Is it crunchy peanut butter? Peanuts?”

She makes a face, much to his dismay they’re a creamy peanut butter household, so Steve shakes his head no and you tap your chin. “Okay, and it’s not the m&m’s or…” you smile at Steve, emphasizing the R’s in a way that tells him the very important letters were left out of the word, “Butterscotch.”

Charlie nods and the two of you are silent so he chimes in with, “Rice Krispies? The cereal?”

You smile and Charlie nods, “That’s it! Krispies!”

Crunchies, krispies, he has to give it to her, that’s pretty close. And from the way you react, he knows you knew all day, you just wanted to keep her distracted.

“I’m so glad we figured it out! I had such a great time learning with you today, Charlie, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Charlie nods and waves, shouting in his ear, “Bye Miss Honey!”

You wave back, smiling at the two as the next parent takes his place and you call up a boy named Matt.

Steve heads down the hallway, looping her backpack over his shoulder as he whispers, “Should we make Miss Honey some Monstermash cookies tonight? You can bring them tomorrow?”

Charlie shouts yes directly in his ear again and his hair gets trapped under her hand in her excitement and all he can do is sigh.

A content, tiny burst of affection, for sure.

[ghcstpyre]

PINKIE SWEAR.

*•.¸♡ ted "theodore" logan x f!reader

PART ONE. ted is still a virgin. you offer to change that.

contents: virgin!ted, afab!reader, a bit of fluff, angst if you squint, post-excellent adventure, pre-bogus journey, drug use (weed), fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), slight praise kink, unprotected p in v sex. MINORS BEGONE!

word count: 7.5k

a/n: after sitting in my drafts for 2 months, it's finally here! i'm so excited to get this one out of my brain and into writing and i really hope you enjoy reading it as much as i've enjoyed/am going to enjoy writing it! :)

taglist: @scarlettspectra

The thick smell of weed hung heavy in the air of Bill and Ted's apartment, its source pinched between your index and middle finger. You'd perched yourself atop the kitchen countertop in one of the few un-cluttered spaces, lazily toking from the joint in your hand.

It was evening in the middle of July and the colours of the sunset shone through the little window opposite you, bathing the messy kitchen in a gold and orange glow. You and Ted had forgotten to crack open a window before you lit up, but by the time either of you had realised you were both too baked to care and the damage had already been done.

Ted was sat on the sofa, his old acoustic guitar in his hands, fingers plucking away an unknown tune. Or maybe it was a tune you should know, but the fingers on the strings were too inexperienced for you to be able to tell what it was. His guitar playing skills had improved somewhat since the History Report fiasco, but not by a huge margin.

You thought that having a literal princess as a girlfriend to impress would help spur him on, and for a time it had done, but you'd noticed Ted becoming more withdrawn since his relationship with Elizabeth had ended. He 'd been pretty torn up over it at the time, but it had been over a month now since they ended things on friendly terms and you'd picked up on his change in demeanor.

It felt cruel, but you couldn't say you were too heartbroken for Ted when he broke the bad news to you. The thick, green worm of jealousy had wriggled its way under your skin and buried itself within your chest the moment Ted introduced Elizabeth to you as his girlfriend. It had been festering there ever since, making its nest within your heart.

Of course, it was your own fault for realising your feelings for Ted a little too late. Everyone always said 'better late than never', but you didn't think you could apply it to the crappy situation you found yourself in.

But now Ted was single again. It seemed the universe had decided to give you another chance.

Slowly, you tilted your head to the side, dragging your gaze away from the view of the sunset to look at the object of your affection. He'd gone from plucking the strings to strumming them listlessly, clearly a million miles away.

Your whole body thrummed with the buzz of your high, a faint ringing in your ears. You knew you were high as hell - it felt like your skull had been stuffed full of cotton wool and your eyes were heavy, sclera tinted red and lids droopy.

As heavy as your eyes felt, you managed to drag your gaze across Ted's form. His mop-like, dark brown hair had fallen into his face like it usually did, but the blazing glow of the sunset shining through the living-room window cast an orange halo around his head, making him look almost angelic. The usual chocolate hues of his eyes were glittering hazel as he sat with the guitar in his hands, basking in the warmth of the setting sun.

Your eyes followed the movements his large hands made on the strings and fretboard of the beat-up guitar. There were a few stickers littered around the front of its body, faded and torn with age, and scratch marks where someone had obviously tried to peel stickers off with little to no success.

For a brief moment, like you'd done so many times in the past, you imagined what it'd be like to have Ted's hands on your body, his fingertips rough and hardened from the strings of his guitars. That familiar and inevitable heat sparked in your core and you squeezed your thighs together against the slight pulsing between your legs.

"Hey," Your voice was mellow and slow as you tried to get Ted's attention. "You gonna help me smoke this or what?" You asked, holding the joint out in his direction.

Ted was promptly pulled away from his thoughts at the sound of your voice, hands ceasing their movements on the acoustic guitar as he looked over at you, and then at the smoke pinched between your fingers. A lopsided grin tugged at his lips. "Oh, yeah."

He set the guitar down next to him and pushed himself up from the dingy green sofa, the old springs within it groaning in protest at the sudden shift in weight. The soles of his white sneakers squeaked on the tiles of the kitchen as he eagerly stumbled his way from the living room, still feeling the effects of your last spliff.

His long fingers took the joint from your own and he settled opposite you, leaning up against the counter next to the sink, just in front of the fish bowl. He lifted it to his pink lips and took a nice, long drag, the cherry on the end burning as orange as the sunset. After a few beats of holding it in, Ted released the smoke in one long exhale, filling the space between you with a thick, pungent cloud.

The red basketball shorts Ted wore hung low on his hips, the waistband of his boxers poking out above them and concealing just below the bottom of his dark snail trail. You had to do your best to drag your eyes away from the mouth-watering view and instead focused your gaze on his chest. It wasn't any less tantalizing - his old San Dimas High School tank top was a little too small for him now and clung to his torso in all the right places, giving you a wonderful view of the slight muscle definition on his body and arms that he usually hid behind baggy t-shirts and jackets.

It wasn't until he'd said your name for a third time that you realised Ted was trying to get your attention. "You okay there dude?" He asked, genuine concern in his eyes, sclera just as bloodshot as yours and lids just as heavy.

You swallowed hard as you composed yourself, offering him a reassuring smile and hoping he hadn't caught you checking him out. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just really stoned."

Ted gave you an amused smirk in return, flashing you with a bright, toothy grin as he brought the joint to his lips once again. "Excellent."

You muffled a snort against your hand. The way Ted and Bill spoke was something you'd always found equal parts amusing and endearing. It was goofy, but somehow you felt it added to Ted's strange charm.

A soft padding could be heard below you as you lightly swung your legs back and forth, your heels knocking against the cupboard door as you watched Ted pull from the spliff. His features took on a somber edge and his eyes glazed over slightly, clearly miles away once again.

"Hey, Ted? Are you okay?" Your voice was soft, cautious almost, as you got his attention. "You've been kind of distant lately. I know breaking up with Elizabeth must've been tough but...do you wanna talk about it?"

He regarded you silently, pursing his lips a little with a slight furrow in his brow. Ted's gaze fell to his feet and he tapped the tips of his sneakers together. Eventually, he nodded. "...Yeah, " His voice was hoarse, almost like the word was a struggle for him to get out. "I think talking might do me some good."

It hurt seeing Ted so visibly deflated like this, but you were glad he was willing to finally open up about things - even if it did mean you had to listen to him pine over his ex. Still, more than anything you just wanted to be there for your friend, as a friend.

Ted offered you a grateful smile, the corners of his full lips quirking upwards beautifully. He reached out to pass you the joint and tingles ran up your arm as your fingers brushed his before taking the joint from him. He swallowed thickly, trying to figure out where and how to begin while he watched you fumble with the lighter, sparking the smoke up again and breathing new life into the cherry on the end.

"It's just...bogus, y'know?" He started, running a hand through his glossy hair. "Elizabeth was my first proper girlfriend - she, Bill, Joanna and I basically did everything together. Being with them was always a most excellent time."

You nodded along as he spoke, toking from the joint and turning your head away slightly to blow the smoke out, away from Ted's face. The green worm coiled around your heart squeezed.

"But now it's just the three of us and I'm a total third wheel all the time. Or - or it's the three of them, without me. Elizabeth said we're still friends but that she needs some time - which is perfectly okay, I mean, I'm not about to force things like a dickweed or something, but..." A long, frustrated sigh left his lips.

Ted already felt like a complete jackass for feeling this way about his friends, and even more so for complaining about them in the open like this. Friends weren't supposed to talk smack about each other behind their backs. He looked at you from beneath his long, dark lashes, almost like he was seeking your approval. He'd always had a nasty habit of second guessing himself - undoubtedly put there by his asshole of a father - but this was uncharted territory for him and he felt like a fish out of water.

Sensing his need for guidance, you tilted your head and offered him a sympathetic smile. "You miss your friends." You finished for him.

He nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders he didn't even realise was there beginning to ease. "Yeah, exactly." He looked up at you properly, meeting your gaze. "It's why I'm most grateful for you offering to hang out so often since Elizabeth and I split. It's been a totally lonely time, but seeing you has made it a bit easier."

Your chest tightened and your heart stuttered. Of course you'd wanted to be there for Ted as he dealt with his first breakup, but you couldn't deny that there were selfish motivations lurking beneath your good intentions. Guilt mingled with the fluttering of your heart.

"I'm always gonna be there for you during your hours of need, dude." You smiled.

Ted watched as you puffed from the joint again and blew out the thick cloud through your plush lips. The smoke rising from the glowing cherry swirled as it hung in the air, twisting around you lazily like a living thing, high off its own fumes and glowing in the light of the sunset. His chocolate brown gaze dropped to the KISS logo plastered over the chest of the t-shirt you wore - his t-shirt that you'd stolen some time ago now.

Elizabeth always told him it was strange that he let you wear his clothes sometimes, but he never thought anything of it. It was only now, however, that he noticed just how much he liked it when you did.

Is that weird? Ted thought to himself. Since when did she get so...bodacious?

He'd always thought you were pretty, but there was something different about you that he'd started to notice. Ted found his gaze lingering on you longer than it should, sometimes on places he definitely shouldn't be looking at. Especially now with the light of the sunset setting the colour of your hair ablaze, his t-shit hanging comfortably on your body, and your summer short-shorts clinging to your upper thighs.

His eyes dropped a little lower as the comfortable silence you found yourself in stretched on a bit longer. He noticed the way the flesh of your thighs spread out on the countertop, the bare skin below your shorts sticking to the marble in the summer heat. Ted swallowed thickly before looking you in the eye once again.

You noticed the way his eyes trailed over your body but decided not to comment, despite the way your heart hammered in your chest. "Plus, I guess this makes band practice difficult. That's gotta be frustrating."

"Yes! God, yeah, it is most vexing." Ted looked at you like you'd just put everything he'd been feeling over the last few months into words. If he'd known how liberating it would be to vent his frustrations, he would've come to you to talk sooner. You always had a knack for finding the words to describe how he felt. "How is Wyld Stallyns gonna be the most triumphant rock band in history if we can't even practice?"

A giggle slipped past your lips, glad that he seemed to have perked up a little. Wyld Stallyns were terrible, but you'd supported them unconditionally no matter how bad they sounded. "Just give it more time, Ted. I promise you she'll come round and you guys will be able to practice and hang out again just like you used to. You're doing really well, just have a little more patience."

The idea of Elizabeth and Ted spending time together again didn't exactly fill you with glee, but you doubted they'd get back together - at least, not immediately. You hoped.

His eyes dropped to your thighs again as you passed the joint back to him, the tip of his tongue poking out to wet his lips. "There's...kinda something else that's been bugging me, but I don't know if I should..." Ted trailed off, a light pink hue rising to his cheeks.

"Go on," You urged, nodding at him to continue. If there was more weighing on him, you wanted to coax it out of him.

He avoided your gaze, eyes sliding off to the right. "Okay...y'know how Bill and I explained that the princesses are...chaste?" You nodded and hummed in understanding. "Well, it took me eighteen years to finally get a girlfriend. Now I'm twenty-three, single and there are things that most guys have done by now that I still haven't experienced." The embarrassment was evident on his face; he couldn't meet your gaze at all.

You simply blinked at him, processing his words. Then, the penny dropped. "You're a virgin?" Your mouth was blurting the words before you could stop them.

Ted's cheeks flushed crimson and he let out a frustrated groan. Although he completely respected Elizabeth's boundaries and was more than happy to have waited until marriage to finally experience the intimacy he craved, he couldn't deny that it had been a ball-ache - metaphorically and in some cases, physically. Bill had cracked a joke about their right hands being their second girlfriends; at the time Ted had found it funny, but now it just depressed and frustrated the hell out of him.

"No-!" He raised his voice slightly in defense, almost offended by the 'V' word. He shook his head. "-I mean yes? I mean-" The hand that wasn't holding the spliff reached up to drag his palm over his face as he visibly deflated. "It just sucks, dude. I feel super lame." He let out another long sigh, defeated.

Ted brought the joint to his lips, taking one final, long drag before stubbing it out in one of the nearby dirty mugs in the sink. He looked back down at his shoes again, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his shorts.

"Teddy, hey," The nickname caught his attention, but he didn't have the courage to meet your gaze just yet. You unstuck your thighs from the kitchen counter and hopped down, stepping forward to close the distance between the two of you. When he still refused to acknowledge you, you brought your hands up to rest on the sides of his exposed biceps and squeezed gently. "Teddy, look at me."

He hesitated for a moment before lifting his head to look at you and your sweet smile.

"You're not lame. Like, at all." You reassured him, your thumbs rubbing slow, comforting circles on his skin. "In fact, I think it's totally chivalrous of you to have waited for Elizabeth."

Ted tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy. "...You think so?"

Cute. You thought.

"Of course!" You smiled brightly at him, having to tilt your head up to look him in the eye. "Not many guys would do that. Most would just get bored and dump their girlfriend after a few weeks so they could go and get some."

His face soured at the notion. "Heinous."

You giggled and his expression immediately brightened as the sweet sound filled the kitchen, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he dipped his head down and chuckled. That was one thing he always liked about you - your laugh. Especially when he was the reason for it.

You retracted your hands from his arms and he mourned the loss of contact, his skin tingling where your thumbs had been circling.

"Besides, there's nothing bad about it. Everyone experiences things at different paces. Like, you smoked weed before I did." Your words had a small grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Do what you wanna do at your own pace and don't care about what anyone else thinks. Just because you haven't had sex yet doesn't make you any less of a catch."

He lifted his head to look at you again. "Thanks, babe. I really do appreciate it."

The bright expression on his face was the sign you needed to know you'd made him feel better, at least for the time being. The two of you stood there for a few moments, dissolving into stoned giggling. Ted's cheeks were flushed and his eyes shimmered with mirth, the sight being enough to make you swoon internally.

With the orange glow behind him, Ted looked like a dream. A dream you wanted to be a part of.

Hold on a moment. Did Ted call you babe?

An idea popped into your baked mind, head still hazy from the joint you'd just smoked. You weren't really sure if it was a good idea, but you figured if it all blew up in your face you could just blame it on the weed. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin the friendship you had with Ted, especially since his others were currently rocky, but you were high and you wanted him.

"Hey..." You started, your heartbeat picking up the pace. "...If you're still worried about that kind of stuff, I could help out."

Ted's giggles died down and he cocked his head at you in confusion once again. "Huh? What d'you mean?"

Of course he had to pick now to be dense. "Well, y'know..." You tilted you head forward and looked up at him from beneath your lashes, hoping he'd get the message.

His brows raised in recognition and he formed an 'o' with his lips before breaking out into a grin. "Ooohh, you wanna be my wingman?"

You scrunched your face up. "What? No."

"Then whaddya mean?"

"You know what I mean!"

"Babe, I have no idea what you're saying."

"Do you wanna have sex with me?"

The smoke still swirling between you seemed to freeze in place, your words hanging heavy between the two of you. You could feel how hot your cheeks were and you could hear your pulse thumping in your ears, but you were determined to hold his startled gaze.

Ted simply blinked at you, completely dumbstruck, the gears in his head whirring as he tried to process what you'd just said. He was struggling to comprehend if he had actually heard you correctly or not.

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing on the soft flesh nervously and your eyes were trained on his every movement like a hawk. His silence didn't comfort you and although it only lasted for a few moments, to you it felt like an age before he finally responded.

"I...uh...huh?"

Anxiety simmered in your stomach, threatening to bubble over into frustration. You were already embarrassed enough as is and Ted's utter confusion didn't help your hammering heart.

You breathed in slowly, trying to calm your nerves. "Do you wanna hook up?" A small, shy smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "With me?"

Ted's heart thumped rapidly beneath his tank top and your eyes followed his Adam's apple as it bobbed up and down. His hands trembled slightly within his pockets - equal parts nerves and desire. Ted was usually one to articulate himself using large, goofy hand gestures, but right now he was glad his hands were tucked away so you couldn't see how much his hands shook.

"Are you - are you serious?" He asked, his deep voice cracking adorably.

A few strands of hair fell into your face as you nodded, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt. "Y-Yeah. I mean, we're both high, we're friends-" You swallowed thickly and wet your lips with the tip of your tongue. Ted's eyes followed the movement and you took a small step forward, "-You're cute...plus, it'll mean you'll have one less thing to worry about, right?"

His eyes flicked up to your eyes, down to your lips, then back to meet your gaze again. It didn't go unnoticed.

One of Ted's hands retracted from his pocket to reach out and gently brush away those fallen strands of hair from your face, tucking them behind your ear. You were sure then, if it could've done, your heart would've leapt right out of your chest and into his hand. Your breath hitched and your smile turned from shy to hopeful.

"I...yeah, I guess that makes sense." Heat rose to Ted's cheeks and his smile matched your own before faltering slightly. "But, won't it make things, like, totally weird between us?"

You shook your head. "Nah. I promise we'll still be friends afterwards." Lifting a hand, you wiggled your pinkie finger in front of him. "Pinkie Swear."

With a small, amused huff, Ted linked his little finger with yours and held it for a few beats before pulling you towards him using your pinkie. The hand that had remained inside his pocket moved to rest on the curve of your hip, his thumb rubbing your soft skin over the material of your top. Your own free hand came to tentatively rest on his chest.

Now that your hips were almost flush against his, and thanks to his loose-fitting shorts, you could feel his length pressed against your thigh. He was already a bit hard.

"Is that a yes?" Your voice was breathless as you asked, not expecting the sudden surge in confidence after his initial confusion and bashfulness.

Ted's voice was low and husky when he responded, his tone immediately causing heat to pool between your legs. He leaned in, plush pink lips only an inch away from yours.

"Hell yes."

Finally, Ted's lips captured yours in a kiss that, for you at least, felt like a long time coming. The nervous simmering in your tummy exploded in the form of happy fireworks as his lips moved slow and tender over your own, giddiness and lust threatening to take you over.

This was Ted's first time so you were determined to keep your own desires in check - to go at his pace.

His pinkie finger released yours in favour of snaking his hand around your neck to cradle the back of your head as he towered over you, lips still connected to yours. Your own hand lingered in place for a second before joining the other on his broad chest, savoring the feeling of his excited heartbeat against your palms.

You pulled away from each other for a moment to catch your breath. Ted's pupils were blown wide with desire, his deep brown eyes looking like inky black pools. Combined with the crimson hue blooming across his cheeks, your best friend looked absolutely delicious.

Neither you nor Ted could believe this was actually happening.

"Whoa..." A big, toothy grin spread across his freshly kissed lips.

You didn't even get a chance to respond before Ted's mouth descended upon yours again, this time with a little more urgency. The hand that gripped your hip circled around your waist to hold you tightly against him while his other threaded his fingers through your hair. You practically melted into him, raising onto the balls of your feet to wrap your arms around his neck and push him back against the counter behind him.

The ache between your legs urged you on. You traced your tongue along Ted's bottom lip, desperate for more. He was more than happy to oblige, parting his lips for you and letting out a soft groan as your tongue slid against his.

You were sure that that little sound was enough to send you to heaven. Or at the very least, would be living in your head rent free for the next...well, forever.

The inside of your mouth tasted like weed, smoke and the chocolate you'd snacked on earlier when the munchies hit, and Ted briefly wondered if there was any part of you in that moment that he didn't find completely intoxicating. Every kiss, every touch, every swipe of your tongue had his cock throbbing inside his shorts, straining against the fabric and aching for attention.

Without even realising it, Ted began grinding his rigid length against your thigh, pulling a little gasp from your lips. The friction paired with your tongue in his mouth was almost enough to make his toes curl in his sneakers.

Ted could count on one hand the number of girls he'd kissed, but this was by far the best kiss he'd ever had.

Why hadn't he done this with you sooner?

Sensing his need, you slid the palms of your hands down his torso to the waistband of his boxers. His breath hitched in his throat and his dick twitched with anticipation as you smiled against his plush lips, your fingers dipping just below the elastic to toy with the waistband.

"Can I touch you?" You breathed against his mouth, desperate to feel the size of him in your hands, in your mouth, and buried deep inside you.

Ted's eyes fluttered open and he nodded, letting out a shaky breath. "Y-Yeah."

In one swift motion you pushed down his boxers and shorts, letting them pool around his ankles as you sunk down to your knees. His cock sprung free, long with a thick vein running up the underside and a lovely pink head, a bead of precum already forming at the tip.

He was absolutely gorgeous. If you weren't wet before, you were surely soaking through your panties by now.

You reached your hands up to run your fingers down his flat stomach, trailing them over his cute snail trail and through the dark thatch of curls sitting above where you wanted to be most. He watched you the whole time through heavily-lidded eyes, his bottom lip caught between his pearly white teeth.

The sight of you on your knees before him was the hottest thing he'd ever seen and you hadn't even touched him yet.

Ted's whole body jolted as you wrapped a hand around his shaft, your other hand resting on his thigh. You gave his cock a few slow, long strokes, looking up and drinking in the sight of him as he gripped onto the edge of the kitchen counter and gazed down at the most excellent view of you with his dick in your hand.

The whimpers that escaped him were all the encouragement you needed. Without warning you leaned in to lick a hot, wet stripe up the underside of his shaft and press a kiss to his wet tip. Ted practically keeled over, inhaling sharply.

"You okay?" You asked, concern swimming with the lust in your eyes as you pulled back a little.

Ted nodded, the corners of his lips quirking upwards in a small, sheepish smile. "Y-Yeah, I'm good. Just wasn't, uh, expecting that."

You squeezed his thighs affectionately. "Want me to carry on?"

"God yes."

Having the go-ahead, you leaned in again and took the head of his throbbing cock into your mouth.

"Oh fuck."

Ted managed to release the vice grip he had on the countertop to thread his fingers through the hair on the top of your pretty head as you began bobbing your head, the other hand still gripping onto the counter for dear life. You took a little more of him into your mouth with each motion, swirling your tongue around the swollen head when you pulled back.

"Fuck babe, that feels so good."

The salty taste of his precum on your tongue sent bolts of heat straight to your core, now hyper aware of the aching need between your legs. Unable to handle it anymore, your spread your thighs apart and slid one of your hands into your shorts to rub slow circles on your clit through the damp fabric of your panties.

It was taking all of Ted's willpower and restraint to not buck his hips forward into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. The sight of you touching yourself as you sucked his dick was almost too much for him to handle and he had to clap the hand that white-knuckled the counter over his mouth to muffle the loud moan that slipped out.

His moan was like music to your ears. You needed to hear more. Steeling yourself, you pulled your wet lips off his cock with a pop, inhaled deeply, and then took his entire length down your throat. You squeezed your eyes shut as the coarse curls of his dark pubes tickled your nose and you moaned around his girth as your fingers worked on your sensitive bud.

"Oh shit," Ted practically yelled, throwing his head back and letting out a long, low groan of pleasure. His fingers tightened in your hair and his toes curled in his shoes as he desperately fought against the urge to cum down your throat there and then.

He pulled on your hair, gentle enough to not hurt you, but hard enough to get you to drag your mouth from his dick.

"Fuck babe - I almost came." Ted panted, completely breathless as you gazed up at him, tears pricking at the corners of your glassy eyes and your lips were red, swollen and shiny with spit.

He unthreaded his fingers from your hair to help you up to your feet and immediately pull you in for another kiss, each press of his lips harder and hungrier than the last. His hands were quick to find your hips and you gasped against his mouth as he squeezed them tight and kicked his boxers and shorts from around his ankles.

Ted began pushing you backwards until your lower back hit the edge of the counter. His irises were completely engulfed by his inky black pupils and his large hands slid up underneath your t-shirt, savouring the feeling of your soft skin beneath his palms as they travelled up your waist to your ribs.

His burning desire was swallowing him whole and he was acting purely on impulse. Ted had been worried he'd fumble this with his lack of experience, but judging by the way you responded to his advances and touches, it seemed that just letting go was working in his favour.

Before you could say anything Ted's lips were on yours again, his kisses absolutely feverous and starting to make your head spin. Just as you pulled away to catch your breath, his hands cupped your breasts and squeezed gently. Your head lolled back and you pushed your chest forward into the sensation, seeking more attention. Ted was more than happy to oblige, kneading the soft flesh of your tits beneath your top with his large hands.

You twitched and let out a needy whine when one of Ted's thumbs grazed over your nipple, his mouth swallowing that sweet sound. He pulled his lips away from yours to repeat the motion again, this time circling both his thumbs over your hard, sensitive nubs. Wonder swam in his jet black eyes as he watched you arch your back into his touch and gasp, unconsciously canting your hips into his and gripping onto his broad shoulders.

Your fantasies could never have prepared you for the real thing. The pads of his fingertips were hard and rough from the hours upon hours he'd spent almost every day pouring over his beloved Gibson, and they felt heavenly on your soft skin as they trailed down from your breasts to your hips once again.

"Can I...?"

Ted's voice was hoarse as he mumbled against your lips, his fingers toying with the button of your denim shorts as he pulled back slightly to meet your heavy gaze. He knew he'd need guidance for what came next and he prayed to the gods of music (Oh great god of metal, Mr Osbourne, dude...please don't let me fuck this up!) that you would be willing to help him out without too much judgement.

If you were to laugh at him, he was sure he'd shrivel up and die on the spot.

You blinked up at him and smiled, giving him the go-ahead with a confident nod. Despite the way his hands trembled, Ted popped open the button on your shorts and shimmied them down over your hips and thighs, taking your panties with them.

Rather than letting you step out of the material, Ted lifted you up to place you back in the space on the kitchen counter you'd been sat in before. The bright, toothy grin on your face told him that that was definitely the right move. He had a feeling that all those evenings spent watching raunchy rom-coms with Bill, Joanna and Elizabeth were going to come in handy.

Ted paused, his shoulders tensing. Wait, no. He shouldn't be thinking about Elizabeth right now.

He was promptly pulled from his thoughts by your legs hooking around his hips and pulling him into the space between your parted thighs, your hands finding their way to his broad shoulders once again.

"You okay?" You asked, sensing his hesitation.

It was incredibly difficult to ignore the press of his erection against your inner thigh, but you wanted to make sure he was still okay with what was happening between you before you went any further.

He nodded, albeit stiffly, and the tips of his ears burned hot. "Y-Yeah, just...I, uh, might need some help with this part."

The sweet smile that you gave him had his heart doing flips within his ribcage. "That's cool," You said, your fingers twirling in the incredibly soft, dark hair at the base of his skull as your voice took on a lighter tone. "I happen to be intimately familiar with myself so I'm really gonna be the best teacher you'll get right now."

Your words drew an amused huff from Ted and the tension in his shoulders eased off. "Awesome. So, um, how do you like to be touched?"

It was such an innocent question but it made your pussy throb something fierce.

You took one of his hands into your own and brought his thumb to your lips. Ted's eyes zeroed in on your mouth and he inhaled sharply as you sucked on it. You coated the appendage with spit before guiding it down to your clit, his head dipping as he followed your movements.

"Here," You shuddered as his callused pad pressed against your little bundle of nerves. "Start with slow circles."

Ted did as he was told and began moving his thumb in slow, steady circles over your clit, mesmerized by the sight and sensation of your sensitive flesh beneath his touch. The soft sighs of satisfaction coming from you spurred him on and he picked up the pace. His other hand moved back underneath your top to gently pinch your nipple.

You gasped and spread your legs further, scooting to the edge of the counter and seeking more of that delicious friction.

"Want your fingers in me, Ted."

Uncertainty and lust swam in his eyes as they snapped back to yours, his cheeks flushed a wonderful shade of pink.

"Don't worry," You comforted. "I'll guide you."

Doing his best to steady the tremble in his hand, Ted dragged his middle finger over your slick folds to gently rub at your entrance. The corners of his plush lips quirked upwards - you were so wet. Not just wet, you were soaked.

"Whoa, babe. You're totally dripping wet right now." Ted grinned, flashing you with a bright, toothy smile filled with pride.

Giddiness bubbled in your chest, delight rushing throughout your body and you curled your toes. You matched his grin. "Duh; my hot best friend is about to fuck me. Of course I'm wet."

He blinked at you owlishly and his cock twitched against your inner thigh. "...You think I'm hot?"

You hesitated before nodding. "I...have done for a while-"

Your confession was cut off by a gasp as Ted slid his finger inside you without warning. The walls of your pussy instinctively squeezed his long digit as he slowly pumped it in and out of you experimentally, his eyes on your face the whole time to check for any signs of discomfort.

"That's it," You breathed. "Now add another finger."

Ted savoured your praise did as he was told, pulling his hand back to push both his middle and ring finger into you. You moaned softly this time and lifted your knees to give him better access and a better angle, the slight stretch filling you will a little more satisfaction.

You'd gotten so used to the feeling of your own touch you'd almost forgotten what it felt like with someone else. God, you missed this.

"Ah!" Pleasure shot through your nerves when his long digits brushed against that sweet spot deep inside you. "There, Teddy - curl your fingers right there."

He pushed his fingers into you to the knuckles and curled them as you said, his calloused fingertips rubbing against your g-spot and pulling more delightful sounds from your lips as he fingered you. Ted could feel the way your walls clenched around his digits and the wet sounds of your soaking cunt taking his fingers so easily had him so hard it almost hurt.

Judging by your reactions he was pretty damn sure he was making you feel good, but he wanted to hear you say it - no, he needed you to tell him.

"Is that good?"

The doe-eyed look on his face paired with his fingers working you like magic was enough to make you whimper. He may not have been able to play the guitar that well, but he was playing your pussy well enough to have you singing.

"Y-Yes," You nodded as your thighs began to tremble. "Feels so fuckin' good, Teddy."

Ted couldn't hold on any longer. Retracting his slick digits from you, he dipped down to press a quick, searing kiss to your lips and then rest his forehead against yours.

"Babe, I gotta fuck you now."

"Please," You panted, hooking your legs around his hips once more as he reached down to line himself up with your entrance.

Ted looked into your eyes as if waiting for permission to go past the point of no return. You nodded in confirmation, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as your whole body buzzed with anticipation.

Slowly, Ted pushed his throbbing length inside you, inching in bit by bit as the wet walls of your pussy accommodated his size. Your fingernails left little crescent moon marks on his smooth skin as you gripped onto his broad shoulders, closing your eyes and doing your best to relax as he inched further in.

The low, loud grown from Ted made the sensation of his cock stretching you out all the sweeter. Your hot breaths mingled as Ted bottomed out, his hips flush against the soft skin of your inner thighs and his hands moved to rest on your hips.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, holding each other and unmoving. You expected Ted to begin thrusting not long after pushing all the way in, but he was as still as a statue for long enough that it had you concerned.

"Teddy?" You opened your eyes to look at him. "You good?"

There was clear concentration on his flushed face, mixed with something akin to frustration. His dark brows were furrowed with a deep crease etched between them and his ears burned hot with embarrassment.

"Ted? Are-"

"I'll bust if I move." He blurted, voice cracking.

You had to bite back against a laugh, thoroughly amused by his choice of words. How was it possible for Ted to still be adorable during a moment like this?

Ted inhaled deeply, trying to steady the rapid thumping of his heart. "Just - just gimme a sec."

It was incredibly hard to not think about the fact that he was balls deep inside you. The thought alone was enough to have Ted teetering on the edge. Your pussy was warm and wet and tight and unlike anything he'd felt around his dick before. Quite frankly he was amazed he'd even lasted this long.

After what felt like an age, Ted let out a shuddering breath and pulled his hips back slowly before pushing into you again. You sighed, relief and pleasure flowing through your veins as he finally gave you that much needed friction your body craved so desperately.

His large hands gripped your hips tight as he thrusted in and out of you, keeping the pace slow and steady - mostly for his own sake - while his confidence gradually increased with each little pleasured sound that fell from your lips.

"Fuuuuck Ted, that's it," You praised him as he picked up the pace, the two of you becoming lost in your combined pleasure. "That's it, you're fucking me so good - Ah!"

Ted's hips suddenly snapped forwards, slamming the full length of his cock into you and filling your cunt to the brim. Your wet walls throbbed around him as the head hit that wonderful little spot inside you and your fingers gripped at the soft hair on the back of his head.

"Shit, sorry-"

Your mouth swallowed his apology in a hot, open mouthed kiss. Ted was quick to reciprocate, groaning as you nipped and sucked on his bottom lip.

"Do that again."

That was all he needed to hear. The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin bounced off the kitchen walls as Ted pumped his dick in and out of you, the sensitive skin glistening with your slick arousal. He did his best to angle his thrusts so that he was hitting that spot that had you clawing at his back and moaning his name, desperately wanting to make you feel good as he chased his own release.

"God babe - ngh - pussy's so fuckin' tight," One of his hands relinquished the vice grip it had on your hip to slide back under your t-shirt and grab your breast and squeeze. "Feels too good, fuckin' excellent, m'gonna - mmnh - gonna cum soon."

You reached a hand down between your spread legs to rub your swollen clit, aching for attention as that familiar heat began to coil in your abdomen, tighter and tighter as you neared your peak.

"Me too Ted, m'so close - so fucking close-"

The coil inside you snapped.

"Teddy!"

Your body shook and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your orgasm hit you, pleasure coursing through your veins in heavy waves. Ted's thrusts became sloppy while he fucked you through your climax, the feeling of your pussy clenching around him as you came on his cock being too much for him to handle.

"Shit babe, gonna cum-"

With a low, loud groan, Ted pulled out of you and gripped his throbbing length. After a few quick pumps of his fist, he spilled his cum over your skin, coating the soft swell of your lower tummy and the hem of your top in pearly white ropes.

The two of you stayed silent as you caught your breath, chests heaving. You let your legs drop and Ted placed his large hands on your thighs, steadying himself as his own legs threatened to give out from under him as he came down from his high.

Nervous bubbles began to simmer in your stomach as you watched Ted through lidded eyes. How would Ted feel about you now? Would this change things between you? And most importantly: Would he regret it?

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, a small smile tugged at the corners of Ted's kiss-swollen lips.

"Now that," He met your gaze. "was most excellent."

A bright smile broke out across your face and your heart did flips, giddiness shooting right down to the tips of your toes. "Agreed. You feel a bit better now?"

You watched Ted closely as he took a step back and bent down to shimmy his boxers and basketball shorts back up his long legs, before retrieving your own shorts and panties from the kitchen tiles and holding them out to you with a smile that shone with earnestness.

"Definitely."

[starr-matterr]

♡̵♥︎♡̵̵"All you wanna do...is see me turn into...a giant woman!" ♡̵♥︎♡̵̵

This is gonna be my first ever fanfic and its for hsr😭😭

Its probably gonna be ass but I need to get this out of my head actually.

No use of y/n. reader is called "You"

Only like 2 characters r mentioned by name you'll understand that later

I know little to nothing abt hsr so alot of this might just be brain worms.

Idea credit to @eternityofend they r so silly for this idea go follow them plz

You were a unique Aeon, however, thoroughly confusing all who had studied you. You weren't callous and cruel like other Aeons, in fact You took a great pride in putting your all into caring for your followers and all around you. You were utterly perfect in their eyes.

Which Is why they were so confused when it came up to researching you. Your kindness and passion towards all you deemed good was well documented but one thing was not. Your appearance. You seemed to only appear to your followers in dream-like states. To your dear acolytes, You were a complete mystery, those few who did happen to see you only recalling how utterly loved they felt. They could only vaguely describe what they believed was You with statments varying each time.

It stayed that way for a long time as the seasons passed and sightings of You dwindled. Everything seemed so bleak without You, the greenery seemed to dull, the once colorful skies seemed to darken, and it could be felt by everyone.

Especially those blessed by you, most importantly, the Trailblazer. The Trailblazer always had a unique connection to You, often hearing your velvety voice for fleeting moments or seeing visions of You in dreams.

They had grown accustomed to your presence, even if you weren't physically there. When they had come to the realization that you were pulling away from your loyal, devoted acolytes they didn't take it well.

What had they done to forsake you? Why were You abandoning your Trailblazer?!?

They had moped around for weeks, delivering offerings to your shrines spread about the planets You had forged by hand out of love for your creations.

Without your guidance they began to spiral. Getting a little too rough with enemies, not tending to their own injuries after battles, often staring off into space, they were losing it. They needed you.

It wasn't until they had finally reached their breaking point until they heard it. A giggle, that laugh that would make all their worries wash away. Their breath hitched in desperation before they the thought of you out of their mind. You couldn't be back could you?

Then they heard it again. They didn't know why but they started running. It was if their body knew where to go but their mind didn't. They didn't know why they were running, You had never appeared in physical form yet.

They ran in the direction of your voice before hastily stumbling upon You. My were You a sight for sore eyes. The Trailblazer paused as they took in every inch of You, committing every last bit of you to memory, just incase this really was psychosis. You were sat in what seemed to be some large plains as your acolytes swarmed You like small bees.

You let out a chuckle at how adorable they all looked and how much they had grown since you last saw them. They were still so small and so needy but you loved every bit of them. Your acolytes peppered You with questions, praise, and presents as You gretted them all.

Sometimes you'd even let them crawl into the palm of your hand so you could get a better look at them. The person in question currently receiving this treatment being none other than March 7th. As she stared at You with star-struck eyes You couldn't help but giggle.

You continued to play with your acolytes before seeing the Trailblazer. You beckon them over with a smile, one the Trailblazer hadnt seen in months now.

As they approached You gently set March down, as to not hurt her before turning to the Trailblazer. Sensing how tense they were You brush a gentle finger through their hair as if anything harsher could crush them. As you pet their hair they seem to melt into your touch, making you laugh at their content smile.

You weren't expecting this. You expected your acolytes to be intimidated, scared even. You were white large and you could decimate them in seconds. That didn't seem to phase them as they chattered amongst themselves about larger temples and bigger offerings.

They just had to find a fitting celebration for your return, lest you take their hesitation as ungratefulness and devoid them of your presence again.

The trailblazer seemed to be keeping you company as the others made preparations for a mighty celebration in your name. As you patted their head their breaths were shaky as they professed their unbreakable loyalty to You.

It spooked you a bit. You didn't know your dear trailblazer could be so passionate, as You had only really been around them when they needed truly needed support or answers.

You didn't stop them however, You believed they needed to get this off their chest to sooth themselves.

You turn your gaze away from the Trailblazer for a moment, still allowing them to nuzzle into your fingers as long as they avoided your sharp nails. Now that you had a physical form you should probably file them down. You didn't want to harm your acolytes did you?

Your gaze falls upon the small crowd starting to form as they stare up at You. You flash them a charming smile, melting their hearts and making their minds feel fuzzy as you do.

That doesn't stop them from glaring daggers at the Trailblazer however. Just what was so special about them that your other acolytes couldn't do?

Their little angry faces were adorable to You. You just couldn't stop yourself from 'Aww'-ing at them!

Their heart skips a beat as hear it. Did you belive they were..cute? they feel all of those sleepless nights filled with extensive research on your disappearance was worth it. You swear You heard someone in the crowd offer You their newborn.

'This will be eventful.' You think to yourself as cou continue tending to your acolytes. Your heart swelling with unbridled joy.

UH YEAH.

My first fanfic done yippiee yippiee

Can you tell i haven't got past the tutorial of hsr because my phone is ass or naw be honest☹☹☹

Might put out a part 2 if the brain worms become too much idk

Also please tell me if I did anything wrong or something is misspelled or misused just dont throw pebbles at me for it thx!!!

YALL I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THIS EARLIER IM GONNA RIP MY FACE OFF AUGHHG.

[ticklystuff]

Day 23: Video Games

a/n: ler!dan heng, lee!caelus from my own personal tickletober list!

———

It'd be so easy.

It wasn't like Dan Heng to involve himself, always preferring the sidelines, if anything, but seeing Caelus'.. well, immovable form sparked the little bit of mischief that he wasn't aware was inside of him. Caelus was like a well-sculpted statue, perfectly still, only his fingers moving against the controller and his eyes darting to and fro, completely enamored by the television screen projecting his current video game. His upper body leaned forward, tongue slightly peeking through his mouth, unbreakable in concentration, as if his very life depended on winning. The whole thing was silly to Dan Heng, but Caelus' reactions were always entertaining to watch, surprisingly.

"Caelus, stop!" his opponent cried out frustratedly, March's shrill voice ringing out in the room from where she was seated. Dan Heng's attention returned the screen to see Caelus' character chasing down March's, expertly executing fighting combos against the pink blob March picked to be Caelus' victim in the match. "No! Stop! Get away-! Ugh, Caelus!"

"I've already told you that Fox easily beats Jigglypuff," Caelus finally spoke after netting the kill, "but you might've been able to save yourself if you did a nair into a bair, and then followed up with rest."

"I have no idea what you're saying!"

"I'm just trying to help you!"

"I'm just trying to have fun!"

"Is losing fun to you?"

"Well, winning isn't everything, y'know?"

"No, no, it is."

And this is why Dan Heng avoided playing video games altogether, finding both to be absolute nuisances in their own ways, though seeing their personalities go to the extreme did provide some form of short-term amusement. He snorted as he watched Caelus claim another one of March's lives, hearing the frustrated screams from the other side of Caelus.

That little bit of mischief began to worm its way back into his brain, propelled by March's string of losses. It was difficult to not feel some sort of pity for the clear underdog in this scenario and Dan Heng was starting to believe that Caelus might secretly be a bit of a sadist. Though his face remained still and expressionless throughout the game, Dan Heng recognized the spark that grew in his eye every time March's character was knocked out by his own.

Perhaps March could use a bit of help, the archivist thought to himself, yet he wasn't sure if this sudden notion was fueled by March's never-ending slaughter or the need to act on previously mentioned mischief. The rationale part of him also told him that better to sit out and yet..

It'd be so easy..

And it was! His body seemingly moved on its own, out of character for how he usually composed himself, approaching Caelus' own in what felt like slow motion, though, with how the game preoccupied his attention, Dan Heng was sure he wouldn't have time to react to how his hands latched onto Caelus' sides anyway.

"H-Hey! EheHEHEhahaha!"

And what was surprising about the whole thing was that despite the fact he was being tickled, Caelus' eyes still remained glued to the screen, refusing to let up his growing victory over March. His body twisted and turned, avoiding Dan Heng's hands to the best of his ability, laughter pouring out all the while, yet his hands remained at the controller, perfectly executing each command. If anything, his resistance pushed Dan Heng even further, now digging into Caelus' underarms.

"Yes! Yes, I love you, Dan Heng!" March cried out, relishing in the aid, though, her gameplay failed to improve, despite the handicap.

"Mahaharch! This is c-cheheheating!"

"I didn't ask for help!"

It was only until Dan Heng finally knocked Caelus to the floor that he lost control, his controller knocked out of his hand, as Dan Heng kept up the tickle attack. Now with his hands free, it was difficult for Dan Heng to keep up the tickling, having to now contend with Caelus' own hands, but the laughter that filled the room, followed by March's eventual cheers from the inevitable kill, was more than worth it.

"You guhuhuys! NahaHAHAhat fahahair!" Caelus whined, as Dan Heng lightly tickled under the hem of his shirt, though, this was short-lived, once March secured the kill.

"I finally got a win!"

"Y-Yeah, but I'm still winning overall!" Caelus breathed, sitting up with a huff, grabbing the controller from the floor. "Maybe Dan Heng should give it a try? See how he likes the handicap?"

Dan Heng blinked as the controller was dropped into his lap, followed by a mischievous nudge from Caelus.

"Go on, Dan Heng," Caelus said, ill-intent behind his voice.

"Oh, there's no need for that," March said, ready for her new opponent. "I won't need a handicap to beat him!"

[floreatetona]

Have a Pirate Fairy fanfic bc I can't be fucked to clean my room. James x Zarina, suggestive.

James had always been a little too good at pretending he was happy. Par for the course, considering his history. Even now, as he ran a brush through his captain's hair, he was surely faking that same, happy grin on his face. The smile curled up so naturally, his big eyes gazed so softly, and his brow knitted, tenderly, just enough to show his... care... for his dear captain, Zarina. And it was care, technically. Although, perhaps, it is a word to be used delicately. The word felt dangerous, like a silk ribbon uncomfortably tight around his throat. No, while he admitted she was at least enchanting and beautiful, in truth, James found that he nearly hated her. This care was less a care of love and friendship, but more akin to the care of a hunter. The cautious tracing of fingers over the dirt tracks of prey, as his own fingers traced her freckles. The precise timing of breathing as to listen for movement, as he himself tried to still his own fluttering heart. The hungry, unblinking watching and waiting to strike, as he himself pondered his options. And, of course, that final pounce, that fatal sinking of teeth, the care of one eating and spilling as little as possible, as James himself finally hinted at his own hungry, deadly devotion.

"Captain? May I say... if it's not too bold..." he paused as he set down his brush, carefully forming his thoughts as he began braiding her almond hair. Zarina, frankly lost in the relaxing grooming, finally opened her eyes with a hum.

"What is it?" She yawned. Her hazel eyes fluttered as her brain shifted its focus. It proved difficult: this body ached, and his touch felt so safe and soothing and easy. As easy as drawing a blanket up to your chin in the cold. As easy as being at home. But when it did refocus, she noticed his face, his smile, had finally come back. That same sweet smile he always wore, but it carried something different lately. No doubt that was her fault; the past few days had been a lot to take in. Her discovery of the wishing dust, her sudden growth and humanity, the setbacks in the search for blue dust; this was the first real moment alone they'd had in almost a week. Only days ago, everything had been normal. She was still tiny, and they still talked every night... and she was still confused as to why he wouldn't just sleep here in the cabin as he always had before. He looked so shocked, almost angry that day. He hadn't acted sad or disappointed, but everything had been so tense. Perhaps tonight was a good time to ask... Him first, for now.

"James?" She cooed, catching herself fearing his unusual silence.

How just like her, how haughty a yawn, with that honey drowned voice she put on whenever she spoke to him in private. She treated him with such matter of fact tenderness, such infuriating distance most of the time. How he hated that. But he swallowed that hate, chasing it with a little of his pride and an actual nervous gulp, because he needed tonight to go smoothly. His plan had been the same from the beginning, ever since this prissy little pixie demanded that she be the captain of these hopeless sods. Gain her trust, let her do all the work and magic and research while he acted as the real voice of command, plant the seeds of mutiny, wait, tear her down the moment the blue dust works, and plunder the world below in an uncatchable ship. But after this week? No, after this long, long year? ....how dare she be anything but an obstacle in his way. How dare this little cunt worm her way into his head. ...Into is chest...

His brown eyes faked shyness and flicked away from hers. Only his fingers, hurrying to clasp off the braid, gave away a clue of his real agitation. Tonight, he needed to know how exactly he could alter his plans. Was all still as it was, or was it now smarter to remain at the right hand? Would the mutiny still hold water, and if not, how then would he get rid of her? He looked up again to speak, but Zarina, infuriatingly, cut him off.

"Really quick though, you're sleeping in here again tonight, right?"

"I-.... pardon?"

"You've been sleeping in a broom closet for like three days. That can't be comfortable! You always sleep in here."

No... no fucking way that she was actually asking such a thing. And so casually!

"W-well this new... body is ...much to adjust to. I'd imagine. I ... took the initiative and assessed that perhaps you needed to um..." The unseen silk ribbon tightened. "Take some time to get in touch with this... new you!" His smile grew crooked and embarrassed as his eyes lowered in secondhand shame. She always made him feel like a fool, but THIS was a new emotion altogether. Not knowing what to do with his hands, or any of himself, he clasped the back of her chair to lean slightly. A poor attempt at seeming nonchalant while panic bit him every time his knuckles brushed her speckled skin.

"You dont know the half of it. I was prepared for the crazy scale change but the dizziness? I don't think it's even really gone, haha." Zarina let herself relax again, not at all aware of the tension in the room. She picked up her cigar from the vanity and took a long drag, but her eyes caught him in the mirror. He allowed his face to rest into a more honest expression. Drops of fear, anguish, uncertainty, and irritated confusion bled from his thinned lips like an overfull bowl. What's his deal, she thought, her own fear rearing its head, does he ...does he not like that I'm human now? But Zarina was too comfortable to spiral in negative thoughts. And she trusted that, as always, hed be honest with her.

"But I can't help but notice that you act... different now. No sugar coating it, you hate this new size, dont you?" With a smile, she lifted the cigar as an offering. James blinked at it, nearly caught off guard before quietly taking the roll in his fingers. He could only stare at the lipstick stain rung around it for a moment, trying his best to ignore his tumultuous brain growling like a mad, starving stomach. Then, a sharp breath, like a tiger hearing a snap of twigs and hooves; a gnawing growing violent in his chest, an idea that had electrocuted his mind the moment he caught his fingers tracing the freckles of her shoulders. Tonight, perchance, he very well could taste the meal for which he starved. He finally let his smile fall.

"That couldn't be farther from the truth, captain." He took a drag of the Jamaican roll, lips pressed exactly along where shed left her lipstick like a first drink of precious water. Then he sighed, presenting it back to her with the respect of a waiter bringing out the wine. She took it back and gaffawed.

"Yeah? You're all depressed because you just adore the new look? Right. That makes sense." She took another drag through mocking teeth and turned around in her chair, watching him walk over to the window side of the bed. She had no idea that he'd mentally called her a bitch at the comment. She probably had no idea that his hands had started shaking.

"No it is the truth, captain." He sat down and shifted as to rest an elbow on a propped up knee. At once he played up his saccharine meekness, that gentlemanly bashfulness that would surely draw his hunt closer.

"I want things to be as they were... and I adore our friendship. But...." a nervous glance, a deep breath. "But it was easy to merely play my part when you were a fairy. I never had a chance to be yours, merely your lowly cabin boy. Even if I had a chance to be... to call you mine... our sheer difference would never had let things work." A heavy silence fell over the cabin, and he locked eyes with his now startled captain.

" But now... now there is no such difference. And what's worse, you... " he couldn't bear to look at her for such an embarrassing confession. James turned almost his whole body to the windows. "I'm only a man." He pleaded. "And you are more beautiful to me now than you ever were." He'd been taught by the best; a woman can be tricked into anything, with the trap of one's own vulnerability. But all the same, a terror gripped him. Bastard opportunist though he was, deep down, he really was quite shy. That's why he nearly jumped when he felt the mattress shift.

"Mine? Your- hum. So that's what this is all about." She'd put out the cigar and slid from the chair to the edge of the four posted queen. She nervously fiddled with the new braid in her hair and crossed her legs under her cotton shift. For a moment, the tension returned in full force before finally, the spell was broken.

"James-"

"I know, I know. I forget myself." He stood from the bed and began his duty straightening up the room. "But I can keep no secrets from my captain now, can I?" Whether this was part of his game or whether he had talked himself out of the idea was totally unclear even to him. Hungry as he was, he couldn't afford to drop his act, and he only now considered the possibility of rejection, a possibility that repulsed him.

"James -"

"As for um.. well if you want me to sleep in here I can, perhaps if I may have a pillow-"

"JAMES." A firm hand pounced and locked onto his arm, startling him more than her sudden bark. The pair locked eyes, hers fierce, his scared and hungry, and she forcefully pulled him closer. She was only as tall as his chest, and as she sat on the bed she was even shorter to him still. But in spirit, in authority, she towered over him. His anger flared again, but not as boldly or as bright as his anxiety...or his excitement. Her hand released his arm, only to slowly draw down and clasp his strong, trembling hand. No act could hide his hitching breath.

"James?"

"...y-Yes? ..Captain?"

"Why do you think of all the things I could have wished for..." her face shifted from sternness to a smug, sly smile. "I choose to wish for this?"

"...............................ah"

The statement peirced his brain like an arrow of lightning, or like a dinner bell. For a moment, he was too shocked to even act, but then, oh then, he was almost too ravenous to think. Almost. James closed his eyes and let out a deep and shaky sigh before falling gracefully to a kneel, so dizzy from her revaluation that he dared to rest his forehead on her knees. He couldn't stop the chuckles that bubbed up from within him. She wanted this (wanted HIM!!!) and he had her right where he fucking wanted her; the table was set for a feast. He hadn't let go of her hand, clasping it with both of his as to uphold what little of his coy act that he could in this state. And after he'd wrestled back control of himself, he finally looked up and swallowed, smiling ear to ear.

"Well, well..." his breath fell heavily like a lion dragging off its kill. "I suppose you don't have any... new orders for me?"

"Orders? No." Zarina smugly leaned back, a king on a throne, amused at the dinner layed before her, and those big brown eyes just begging for a taste. She giggled wryly and spread her legs apart. "But I do have a few ideas..."

And then they fuck. The end. Goodnight.

[phlurrii]

I cannot sleep and I am curious about your take on this random conundrum I am faced with that I was wondering your take on because I love how you are able to depict dynamic movement and action in your art and animations.

So, I absolutely LOVE it when the typically cutesy being that is Mew is depicted as a feral godly beast and I am so utterly in love with Meau’s truly powerful design. An absolute apex predator. However, my brain is hung up on a frustrating detail. If they weren’t floating everywhere all the time how would they like… prowl? Or chase down something. They’ve got these nubby little arms and these looooong legs.

Like. I’m trying SO hard to imagine something that could anatomically work because as eery as floating can be there’s something satisfying about feeling in the weight of a creature through its gait. But all I can picture with their body shape is…hopping. Just a murderous psychic kangaroo cat god bounding towards something but like…It’s kind of silly? I’m sure irl that would probably be absolutely terrifying to see a kangaroo bouncing at you with malicious intent but… it’s hard to picture it as an intimidating movement.

The slow predatory prowl or the fast thumps of heavy clawed paws of something huge and large sharp teeth that quadrupeds have is so a satisfying in a heart racing way. I WANT a Mew or Mew-ish creature to be able to have that vibe while connected to the earth that but then I look at those LONG footers and nub paws and I…I’m left feeling like it’s not possible.

Even for Meau like…their arm to leg ratio…I don’t think it’s possible to run on all 4s. Naruto-run sure. Absolutely. All the mews and twos can Naruto run and kangaroo-hop with them leggies…but none of them move with the “tiger on the hunt in the forest” vibes. I want to make something close to that but I keep making something too permanently quadrupedal in anatomy.

Sorry for the tired brain rambling I just my brain won’t let me sleep because of it’s “How would Meau run down their prey on foot” thoughts sending me in a spiral.

You see- you see, I have the same. Exact, brain worms. Constantly.

When I made the Ancient mew, I wanted something feral, a physical threat. That happens to be psychically able to obliterate you as a side treat. In my earliest comics, I tried so hard to demonstrate she was a power house, so much so her mega evolution is entirely just… that. A massive, wall of steel. Meau tore those scientists limb from limb, literally, with her jaw. Even in mew form, she bitch slapped a nidoking with her tail and kangaroo kicked a persian. She could’ve just shadowballed them, sure, but I want that weight. That feral energy, that sense of an unstoppable force, meeting an immovable object, except it’s just one cat and they are about to flatten you.

As her design has clearly evolved, I’ve tried to make alterations that fit this feeling, that vibe of apex predator no matter the size. She’s larger then average because she’s a threat, she’s more muscular because she’s a threat, her tail is thicker, packed with said muscle because she’s a threat, her front paws are meaty and girthy because She’s. A. Threat. Her entire mega evolution is just amping up that primal energy of raw, unadulterated strength. That’s why I made it, it was my first freaking thought after I designed her XD

I was actually caught between animating a younger Meau acting like a mew or an current Meau acting like a threat. I went with younger Meau cuz we don’t see a lot of her and she’s about to come up with Noe’s arc. So if you sent me this lovely and viciously relatable brain dump 3 days ago, I probably would’ve swayed to animate feral meau XD

But, to answer your question, yes. She can absolutely hunt you down on all fours and disembowel you with her jaw, she is that untamed, wild concentration that kills with a sleek efficiency fellow gods fear. And! At the end of our current arc we’ll finally get that secondary typing reveal I’ve had planned since April XD

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

(~700 words, pearlescentmoon, set during HC10. body horror and scoleciphobia warning as described above. not particularly serious.)

They twisted and climbed over each other, pulling themselves across the unforgiving wooden floors, their disparate minds driven by a unified will that still clung to its identity. The worms, hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of worms, stretching towards a goal that none of them could understand. But the consciousness that guided them knew its intention as it struggled to pull its new, fragmentary existence up the stairs and to the mirror.

It was only after it had pulled itself up to the mirror, the squirming and quivering mass of annelidic life pulling itself into a pillar, dragging itself up to match the mirror's height, that it realized the problem with its idea.

Oh, Pearl thought. I don't have eyes.

She knew the mirror was there, because the two thick columns of worms she'd come to think of as her arms within the last few minutes could feel it when she reached out. A smooth surface, much smoother than the wooden surroundings of the home she'd built. She knew it was polished to a reflective sheen. She also knew that she couldn't see herself in it. Worms, she came to realize, did not have eyes.

Do they have brains? she wondered. How am I thinking right now?

She could feel through each worm, a dizzying amount of sensation, and she used them to feel up and down the interior of her own form, searching for her brain, the seat of her consciousness. She didn't find it, though she wasn't sure she could recognize it if she did - would the worms, their soft and squishy bodies, be able to tell the difference between each other and the squishy flesh of her own brain? She doubted it.

But she paused when they brushed against something hard. Multiple somethings, each worm that inched past giving her more of a sense of the form of the tiny nuggets of something at the center of her new shape. Twenty-eight little prongs, loose, solid as pebbles.

Are those my teeth?

She willed the worms to shift their forms again. It was hard - none of them could understand the greater form she was envisioning, and so she had to build up the blueprint little by little in her head and urge each worm into the proper place. Slowly, very, very, slowly, she shifted so she had a roughly oval mass at the top of the pillar of grubs that formed her new body. A head, she'd call it. The worms, working together, managed to push each of her teeth up into her head, and held them staunchly in place, arranged in the way they were supposed to be.

It took quite a bit of practice, but eventually she worked it out. How to open up the right cavities within herself to push air out at the right rhythms, how to use the worms to shape that air as it emerged and move her teeth to complete the final steps.

"Thith ith.. quite... ihnconvenient," she managed.

She didn't have a tongue, which made the whole process much more difficult. Still, she preferred talking to herself out loud. It helped her think.

"I mean, I wath uppothed to meet with Joel again today," she said. "Itth not like I can... canthel on him. He'th juth the thort of guy to... mmake it a big... pr.. prod... production," she got out.

She noticed something else odd about her new body - she didn't have an accent anymore. Whatever muscle memory was responsible for that appeared not to carry over to her new form, which she supposed only made sense.

She'd have to practice that too. She was fond of her accent!

"Ah'll juth... um, go oher to hith bathe," she said. "I'm thtill in fine con... condition to argue with im," she said. "I'm alwayth ready to argue with im. I can work on getting my old body back after...aft...afterwardth," she resolved.

She reached out, unsteady, to grab her mailbag. Wouldn't do to leave home without it.

[star-going-supernova]

Got an idea and I'm interested in seeing what you do with a prompt like this.

FNAF SB is definitely future time, so the digital world implants are actually more common than just private Fazbear Tech. So Gregory already has his own chip (that he uses to play games on mostly) when he gets stuck in the Pizzaplex, and being the little gremlin he is, he hacked it to allow him access to V.A.N.N.I. network and all the shenanigans he can do with it without needing a full mask.

This is a sci-fi sort of AU where implants just exist and are pretty common, and they have a variety of uses, one of which includes using similar “short cuts” as seen through the mask in Ruin. 

The Tormenting of Moon

Moon growled and lunged for Gregory for the fifth time in as many minutes, but Gregory only laughed and, from Moon’s perspective, passed straight through a section of netting on the play structure. Safe on the other side, Gregory cried, “Too slow again!” 

He took off into the twisting halls of colorful plastic and foam, delighting in Moon’s howl of frustration. 

“How are you doing that?” Moon shouted with his raspy, glitchy voice. 

“It’s not my fault if you can’t figure it out!” 

To be fair to Moon, Gregory having an implant wouldn’t be anyone’s first thought. Legally speaking, a person had to be sixteen or older to have a permanent one surgically grafted to their brain stem. And the removable types for anyone younger or those who didn’t want an internal chip were usually in the form of glasses, masks, and visors—none of which Gregory had. 

So, to Gregory, Moon wasn’t an idiot for not catching on. But he was maybe a bit naive and unobservant. The scar on the back of Gregory’s neck wasn’t exactly subtle and neat and professionally done—rather, it was raised and jagged and far bigger than a real doctor would ever make for a chip placement. 

But hey, there was a black market for everything, even if you were only twelve years old. And implants were too handy for Gregory not to make use of.

Switching his perception back and forth between Standard and Network, Gregory wove through the play structure, always keeping well ahead of Moon’s grasping fingers. He’d always enjoyed a challenge, and this was pretty low-stakes for a chase. Like a slightly more intense game of tag. This wasn’t dangerous; it was fun. 

“Missed me, missed me!” he crowed, diving into the opening of a slide. He took the curves at high speed and shot out into the ball pit. Gregory quickly wormed his way to the bottom of the pit and did his best to slither along without making too much of a racket. With his implant, and the upgrades he helped himself to early on in the night, he tapped into the security cameras in the daycare. 

The night vision mode worked perfectly. He switched between views a few times before finding Moon. The animatronic was stalking back and forth along the edge of the ball pit, looking not unlike a cat who had lost its prey. He half expected Moon to dive headfirst into the pit like a fox into snow. 

Deeming himself far enough away from his pursuer, he carefully slinked up to the surface, only just barely poking out. The darkness provided helpful cover, and the obnoxious music masked the quiet rattling of plastic. 

He threw a ball as hard as he could, and a moment later, it clattered loudly on the other side of the pit. The shadow that was Moon ducked toward it, giving Gregory a chance to take up a more defensible position, tucked in a corner. 

And then, because he was an awful child, he carefully started tossing balls over the edge and into the rest of the daycare. They landed near silently on a padded mat and proceeded to roll down it to make quite a mess. Every now and then, he threw another decoy elsewhere in the pit to draw Moon’s attention, as he was currently swimming through the ball pit like a gangly shark. 

This went on for some time, and Gregory had to pause more and more often to smother his laughter into his shirt. 

Finally ready to reap the rewards of his troublemaking, Gregory boosted himself up onto the ledge and loudly declared, “Wow, what a mess!” 

Moon got as far as leaping to his feet in an explosion of plastic balls before he was rendered still and speechless, horrified by the disarray of his daycare. Over a hundred plastic balls lay scattered around the floor. 

His programming demanded he clean up. In his head, Sun wailed with the need to return order to their domain. Moon himself wanted nothing more than to wring the neck of the menace responsible. His head twitched and sparked. 

Cackling, Gregory climbed up a slide with little windows carved in the sides, and there he camped out to watch the animatronic have a mental break down. 

[alpydk]

Cabinet of Oddities (The Final Chapter)

Gale x Tav (OC F)

The final chapter. The defeat of the Netherbrain, the docks, the Chionthar. 2 epilogues. The first is the "canon" happy ending. The second is the one I prefer but decide for yourselves.

((I'm going to add a long blurb of thanks here. And some of my own unwanted backstory.

Nana was created for a DnD game back in 2021. A year when everything for me went to shit and I had a nervous breakdown. Her aversion to touch reflected my own insecurities with it, Thomas was the self-destructive tendencies which I clung to so desperately, her 5 years in the past was my 2021 as I lost myself to my mental health. Either way, this story was written as a reflection of all that happened and the friends that helped pull me out of it (despite all the struggles that came in that area).

But yeah, thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed the story. It's meant a lot, especially with this being the first fic I've ever written. So again, thank you, thank you, thank you.))

Ao3 Link

Nana fell onto the Netherbrain, her slight changeling form hitting the flesh beneath her. “Ooo squishy…”

“Tormentum!” Gale fired off a barrage of magic missiles at the mind flayer that loomed over her. “Nana, pull yourself together!” The battle so far had been intense, fighting their way through the High Hall, taking down cultists, ghouls and mindflayers and they’d had little time to recuperate before the final stages came. Now they bided their time as their own mindflayer ally opened the last portal giving them access to their foe. Gale ran to her, helping her from the ground where the enemy had shoved her.

“Thanks,” she said, wiping the ichor from her armour before leaning around him and firing an arrow past him into a tentacle that had suddenly emerged. “This is fun, right?” He could see how light her eyes were and the way her lips curved as she saw the arrow hit.

He looked at her in confusion but then a smile crept on his face. “Hardly the verbiage I would choose, my love.”

The portal erupted into view and the group sprinted for it ready to face the brain, the hardest part they had to overcome. Gale still thought of the orb, of that final choice he would have to make if things began to go badly for them. They continued to fight valiantly leaping between the plates that barely held in place around the brain. He could see the wear and tear of Astarion’s armour, the bruises on Shadowheart’s face, and again the choice presented itself to him. If this is what is needed, then so be it. 

“Pew pew!” Nana dived past him firing arrows at the brain, his thoughts interrupted. Does she even realise where we are right now? He felt his head throb as the Netherbrain attempted to dominate the tadpoles they carried within. “Tormentum!” Another collection fired in the direction of the brain. Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails. 

It was a spell from the Shadowheart that was the final nail in the coffin, causing the Netherbrain to cry out in agony. He heard its voice within his head pleading with them to surrender or work alongside it but the mindflayer accompanying them ordered them to kill it. Gale stood with the crystals, looking at the Netherbrain in front of him, knowing only one thing; He needed to get the crown. He commanded with authority for the Netherbrain to destroy all the tadpoles and itself, immediately feeling intense pain in his skull, the worm withering away to nothingness. 

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

Nana watched as Gale made the order, her cheeks flushing a little at the sight. Oh, he is nice when he’s in charge… She bit her lip and then grimaced before crumpling to the ground in pain. She clenched her eyes shut, hoping for it to end and as it did, she looked up seeing the crown shatter into pieces before falling out of sight.

She looked down into the water. Everything was quiet. Too quiet. No Thomas, no tadpole, just the ramblings of her own mind. Jam, cushions, Gale. Going to be a fun night. And then there was a new sensation, one she had never experienced before, falling a large distance. 

She felt the wind in her hair, savouring the moment before she hit the cold water beneath. A strange feeling overtook her as struggled to stay afloat, her arms growing weaker against the current, water entering her lungs. She could see the light above the surface but her mind kept drifting away from her, willing for sleep to take her. It was only as Astarion grabbed her pulling her upwards and the air entering her lungs again that she realised what had happened. She gasped for breath as she was pulled up onto the docks, coughing up mouthfuls of water. “I need to… learn how to swim.”

Astarion stood up next to her wringing out the water from his clothes. “Darling, you need to learn so much more before swimming.” 

She felt Gale’s hand on her back, rubbing gently, and looked up to him with a smile. “We made it…”

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

Gale walked along the docks indulging in the sensation of finally having his mind to himself again. He thought over the crown and where it was within the water, how he would find it and reforge it, and whether he was still willing to hand it over to Mystra as she had ordered of him. He looked over at Nana as she removed her soaked leather armour revealing her cotton shirt underneath, her pale skin moist with droplets of water. She shook her head, spattering Astarion, and Gale watched as he chastised her for it, her laughing at his temper. Is godhood worth losing all this?   

It was as her smile faded that his attention moved to what she had seen. Karlach stood on the edge of the docks, the flames of her skin licking higher. She’d spoken little of her affliction to him throughout their travels, but he knew what was happening as Shadowheart ran towards her with concern on her face. He watched, unable to hear the words they spoke to one another as Karlach burnt hotter and brighter than any of them had seen previously, his mind racing, looking for solutions. An ice blast, the water around us. All other options except the one he knew she was against. It was Wyll who shouted past him about Avernus, the reluctance showing on her face as she heard the words, but Shadowheart managed to convince her to see sense. 

They had no time to say goodbye to the trio before they fled through the portal, the heat of Karlach’s flames becoming too much for any of them to handle. Nana stood next to him, a tearful and shocked look on her face. 

Astarion came closer towards them both with a smirk. “Well, loves, I guess it’s just our merry- ow!” He flicked his wrist as if he had been bitten by an insect. Gale saw how his skin began to smoke, the delicate fingertips of his hands cracking into a soft blue. “What the - oh gods. Oh no.” The sunlight.

Nana's panic was clear to see as she watched how Astarion fled across the docks, his abilities being altered by the absence of the tadpole. “We have to go after him!” she called to Gale, before beginning to run.

Gale reached an arm out stopping her progress. “There’s little point. There’s nothing we can do for him.”

“Maybe not, but he’s our friend. We can’t just leave him alone out there,” she pleaded with him. In mere moments she had lost over half of the people who had ever come to care for her, leaving only him alone with her. “We have to find him. Please, Gale.”  

You’re right. The crown can wait. He gave a small nod and together they ran off in the direction they had seen Astarion flee.

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

It had been over one hundred years since Astarion had felt the sun last burn his skin, a cruel torture technique that Cazador had used a few times for entertainment. But over the last few weeks, he had forgotten the feeling of it, the sting and then the pain that followed. He ran to the shadows, glad for the layer of dust in the air that blocked the sun’s direct rays from burning him up instantly. He crawled into himself, the days of those small beams prickling at his skin flashing in his mind, and he closed his eyes, willing them away, trying to work out his route to the Underdark where he would have to continue on alone.

What Astarion had not expected was to feel someone sit next to him as he sat alone behind the crates. He lifted his head and sat in confusion seeing Nana with him. After all they had been through, how he had treated her, and distrusted her so much. She still refused to abandon him like so many others had before. “He’s here, Gale,” she yelled out into the air.

Astarion didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want anyone to see him in this condition, with his face burnt by the sun, and his clothes tattered and torn. He buried his face in his knees again to shield himself from her view. As he spoke, his voice was quiet, more vulnerable than he would have liked, “Leave me alone.”

She said nothing but he didn’t feel her move. He heard Gale’s steps on the stone beside him and felt as he sat too. I don’t want their concern. He wanted to shout for them to leave again, he wanted his strength back, he wanted the sun, but they chose to never leave him. Even as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, they sat quietly with him waiting until he was ready to say goodbye on his own terms. 

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

“You’re going to be okay, right?” Nana’s lip quivered as she spoke the words on the shores of the Chionthar. 

Gale gave her a reassuring smile, placing his hands over hers. “I will be.” He spoke with confidence, despite the worries he held within. He was thankful for the tadpole’s absence making these little moments that much easier to handle. “I will find the crown and come back to you. Do not worry for me.”

“I’m going to wait right here. I’ll stay here until you’re back.” 

He could see the concern on her face, and he wished he could reassure her further. The letter he’d written lay in the journal he’d gifted her on the desk at the Elfsong Tavern, and he hoped she would never have to read it. Even if she did, he had spent hours with a quill in hand trying to provide the best words that could give her comfort if the worst were to happen. The kiss they shared felt too short, and Gale hoped it would not be their last. He boarded the boat to go out into the waters, letting his hands slip from hers. “Nana, know that I will always love you.”

He watched as she sat alone on the shore, her legs pulled up to her chest, and as she slowly disappeared from view he gave a quiet prayer to his goddess for her protection.

*****************************************

Epilogue

It was a sunny day outside of Waterdeep. A lone gravestone could be seen, purple flowers lined around the base. Not far from it sat Nana in her natural changeling form, her short white hair had grown out and the scuffed leather armour had been replaced with an elegant silk gown.  

 "So, it's been a year now since that day by the river. A lot's happened, as you know. I held a proper funeral for you here and I was able to say my goodbyes. I met up with Karlach and the gang again. They said Avernus has been good to them. They mentioned something about a refinery and that they’re hopefully sorting something permanent for Karlach’s machine. I’m hopeful for her. Astarion went back to the Underdark as well and has pretty much put himself in charge of all the vampires. He looks well, a lot more at ease with himself than he used to be.” 

She brushed her hair behind her ear. “And then there is me... Well, me and Gale are getting married. Yeah, I think he’s crazy too. I know you probably won’t be too happy about it, but then you were never really that happy about anything, were you? I wonder if you were always that way. Was there any way I could have really saved you?”

She sighed deeply looking at the tattered journal that sat beneath the stone. “I think that’s why I'm here today. I wanted to explain the choice I made a year ago. Why I didn't want to help you. I’d believed that I wasn’t enough, and when I met you, I thought that for maybe a moment you were the answer to everything. Too many times I questioned what you did and yet I allowed it, afraid of you leaving me. I was selfish and because of me, people got hurt, and people died. After meeting Gale, and everyone else, I realised that I am special in my own strange way and that being alone isn’t really what I want anymore. I guess what I’m saying is, I don’t need you anymore. I do hope though that you’re happy. You showed me a new world outside of my swamp, and maybe at some point, you did feel something for me other than the disgust you did a year ago.” She wiped away a stray tear and smiled. “Either way, I hope now that you’re gone, you’ve found some peace in death that you never had in life." 

A few feet away Gale approached, his hair still weaving around the collar of his robes, though now with a layer tied neatly back. "Nana, If I could give you longer I really would but my mother is quite the stickler for being punctual. We’ve also received a letter about a tree growing at the location we previously camped at in Rivington. They’d like for us to come and claim it before they cut it down." 

Nana looked at Gale and smiled before turning back to the gravestone. "Well, I guess this is it then…” She stood and placed a hand on the cold stone. “Goodbye, Thomas. I'll always remember our time together." She breathed deeply and approached Gale, sharing a brief kiss with him before settling her hand in his.

Together they left the resting place of Thomas, only the sound of birdsong left hanging in the air.

*************************************

Epilogue (Alternative)

The rains poured outside of Waterdeep. A lone gravestone could be seen, purple flowers lined around the base. Not far from it sat Gale his dark hair had grown out, greying more than it previously did and the scuffed purple robe had been replaced with leather armour.   

"So, it's been a year now since that day by the river. A lot's happened, as you know. I held a proper funeral for you here and I was able to say my goodbyes. I met up with Karlach and the group again. They said Avernus has been good to them. They mentioned something about a refinery and that they’re hopefully sorting something permanent for Karlach’s machine. I’m hopeful for her. Astarion went back to the Underdark as well and has pretty much put himself in charge of all the vampires. He looks well, a lot more at ease with himself than he used to be.” 

He brushed his hair back with his hand. “And then there is me... Well, I’m returning to my swamp. I stayed here for a while with Tara and your mother but they’re a bit much for me. I see the way they look at me, blaming me for what happened. I should have gone with you, I should have stopped you. I should have prayed harder to Mystra…”

Nana sat in his form holding her arms tightly around her body. She sighed deeply looking at the tattered journal that sat beneath the stone. “I think that’s why I'm here today. I wanted to say goodbye properly. I’d always believed that I wasn’t enough, and when I met you, I thought that for maybe a moment you were the answer to everything. I kept your form for comfort just like I did all those days past with Thomas and I know in some way you’re still with me but I know that I can’t keep doing this. I need to let you rest, I want to hold onto you, but I know it’s not what you want. Your letter brought me comfort and I keep it in the journal you bought for me. You never let me down, never. You were always worthy, always good enough and I just wish you knew that. I wish you were here so I could tell you every day how much I love you, how much I’ll always love you.” She wiped away a stray tear. “I’ll keep writing poetry for you." 

A few feet away Astarion approached, a large black umbrella held over him, blocking his suit from becoming soaked. "Darling, if I could give you longer I really would but they expect the rain to clear in the next few hours and I’d love to get back to the Underdark long before that happens."

Nana looked at him and waved an arm not wanting to be rushed before turning back to the gravestone. "Well, I guess this is it then…” She stood, reverting back to her natural form. “Goodbye, Gale. My moon and star." She breathed deeply and approached Astarion, giving him a small nod, thankful for the rain coming down upon them.

Together they left the resting place of Gale, only the sound of raindrops hitting the umbrella left hanging in the air.

[avocadoraisin]

alright goofy goobers this is, apparently, the week where i say "eeh fuck it lmao"

first of all, half of you have urls that are some variation of "slasher slut" so im looking straight at u here: once upon a time before tumblr ruined the fun, i ran a nsfw art blog. i thought id spiritually revive it in the form of a twitter, if you want to see more saucy things!

right over here!

keep in mind it wont be 100% my art. itll probably be... idk... mostly retweets. also personal thoughts. (more personal than usual, obviously) and THEN art from me, once in a while. im not sure yet!

Second,

my little possum art is doin decent numbers on twitter so i figured id finally just say i have a furry alt? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ if you were wondering why i was on a semi-hiatus for all of last year til the slasher brain worm got me, its just cuz i was making art over there. thats all! (since i know some ppl get Big Mad at cartoon animals, i keep it separate from my main art)

i have a tumblr, @whyscout (and twitter of the same name thats more active ^^)

thats about it! :)

[sillysadduck]

BRO. IVE BEEN WRITING A LITTLE BIT OF MY DHMIS AU IVE BEEN WORKING ON AND I WANTED TO SHARE IT WITH YOU

Chapter 1.

    While Lily was digging into the meal provided by her new "mother," she finally felt like she had a full family, it was complete.

    There no longer sat an empty space where her old mother once sat, but now a petrified, yellow..kid? Adult..? Creature?

    He got up in fear and backed to the door. But the door opened. The family, except for Lily  was to distracted by the food to realized an old, skinny, greasy man had walked in.

    He was balding, but still long strands of thin hairs hang in front of his large wrinkly forehead. He walked over, and unhinged his jaw like a snake.

     Lily grabbed Todneys shoulder and pulled, in panic she yelled "Run!" The man pounced, lunging onto the son first.

     Todney was in the living room, staring at the man as it ripped limb from limb off his brother.

     Lily threw the bucket full of chicken at the attacker.

It lunged toward her, but she moved back only for him to claw her face and leave a scratch from her nose, to her chin. It started to bleed, that was gonna scare.

      She grabbed a drum stick and hit his face. The man now, distracted by the food, grabbed it and started fiercely ripping its flesh off.

    Lily ran passed Todney and grabbed his sleeve pulling him. "Lily, I'm scared." Tears filled Todneys eyes as she pulled him into their bedroom.

     Lily shut the door and locked it "I'm sorry, Todney, I really thought I could find another parent," Lily too started to whimper.

     "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Lily started to push the bed away from the wall.

      "What are you doing?" Todney asked trying not to whimper. "There's a vent we can go through, help me push it over."

    Todney helped push until the vent was uncovered. Lily pulled onto the vent opening until it came off.

     Lily climbed in and started to crawl.      Todney felt a lump in his throat form as the pain of loss hit. He tried hard to keep quiet but couldn't help but let out a few whimpers.

    The blood from Lily's lip dripped onto the metal making a trail. "What if he follows your trail?" Todney asked. Lily looked down and thought Trail? She saw the blood drips and felt her lip. "We'll be far enough away." She hoped.

    There was a small light up a head, Lily could feel a small breeze from the end of the vent.

    They made it out.

Chaptor 2.

    Warren, our ugly worm friend. Tossed out into the streets after being pulled out of a brain. Kinda of weird being pulled out of a brain, didn't even think puppets had  brains. Anyways, Warren, ugly guy on the streets, he adjusted his backpack straps onto his shoulders properly. Does anybody like me? He thought to himself. The streets where nasty, but not as nasty as his greasy hair. The smell of something burning made it through his crusty nose. Someone had a fire going but who? He looked down the end of the street, smoke was filling the air from an alley way. "A fire?" Warren whispered to himself. Warren moved his slimy body towards the alley. There, he peeked around the corner to see two children roasting hotdogs over a tiny but mighty fire.

"Who are you?" Said the little boy? The little girl turned around. Warren was shocked to see her nose and lip swollen with an infected, yellow cut.

"Um, hi," Warren said. He awkwardly  walked over. "I'm Warren, have room for another?" The little girl looked at him. "Sure." She said. Maybe I can stay here for a bit. Warren thought. Warren sat next to the campfire as the kids roasted the hotdogs. The little boy looked at his book bag. He must have been staring at the small pin clipped to the side. "What thats?" He asked. Warren unclipped the pin and held it in his hand. "It's my badge for where I used to work." Warren explained. "What did you do?" He asked curiously. "I worked for the OK Stop company. I spread bullying awareness to others." "Oh," the boy said "that's, cool.." Warren clipped the pin back on " Yeah not most exciting job." Warren unzipped his bag and pulled out a box of band aids. "You look like you need one." Warren handed a band aid to the little girl. She look at it unsure to take it. "No thanks," she said "it'll heal soon." Warren put the band aids back in the bag. Rude. She could've taken it for later. Warren selfishly thought to himself. "Are you siblings?" He asked "twins." The girl answered. "I'm Todney," said the boy. "And that's Lily." Lily and Todney had been out there for about a week now after Roy killed their "family."

"There's a guy down the street looking for a new employee." Said Todney , being helpful or trying to get rid of him. "Oh, thanks." He said "what's the job application for?" He asked.  "Flowers, I think." Lily answered. A flower shop, Warren thought. Wasn't a cult leader working there once? There was a scrambling noise in one of the dumpsters. Raccoon with an un opened bag of marshmallows in its mouth poped open the lid. The Raccoon came over with a big smile. "Look what I found."

It said. Oh boy another teacher. He realized the... tumor? Sitting in his spot. "Who's this guy?" He asked the twins. "I'm Warren." He answered. "Your not bribing them for their food are you?" He asked sharply. That would have been smart before this guy got here. Warren thought. "Of course not, they're kids aren't they?"

The Raccoon studied Warren for a bit, Not buying it. Warren thought in a panic. "Hmpf," the Raccoon huffed. He came over on the other side of the campfire and sat. "Where did you get the hot dogs?" Asked the Raccoon. "We stole them." Todney giggled. Something I'm gonna have to do. Warren realized. "Did they catch you?" Warren asked. "Obviously not, I grabbed the bag while Todney asked a bunch of stupid questions." Answered Lily. They work together, I don't need anyone though. "That was a smart move." Said the Raccoon proudly.

I might add a few things and get rid of the Raccoon because I do plan on making him abandon lily and Todney, but that's not his personality that I gave him, so he may just not exist. I have like nobody to talk to about this so I came here lol

THIS IS SO COOL!! I died at "the tumor" lmao😭😭😭 AND WARREN BEING GREASY PFFFT STINKY ASS WORM

YOU SHOULD POST IT ON AO3 WHEN YOU'RE DONE <3

[risingsouls]

🦎 + This lil guy's a freebie. What's been burning on your mind lately, if anything?

🦎s For My Work Thoughts || Always Accepting!

[Me trying not to be political because with all the absolute garbage going on in my state and nationally and just the general bigotry and constantly getting fucked over by how our society works? I've got big angy for all that.

BUT. I'll go with some other brain rot. When I'm not sad or angry about the political climate in this turd of a country we've polished up and tried to call a diamond of the world, Nabooru has been HEAVY on the mind. Mostly because, spoiler if you're reading my fic, I'm finally sorta kinda working out how I want to at least introduce her status as a demigod. Or at least suggest shit ain't so simple with her heritage and power.

With a slight introduction out of the way (as in its written but I'm still working through the chapter so not official YET), I've had the biggest brain worm for just trying to figure out how I want to fully implement it, from deciding if it will be some kind of transformation or something else entirely like basically some other being or part of her taking control of her mind and actions and everything until SHE learns to control that if not a combo of both to how she figures out what's going on and has to contend with THAT crisis. I considered making it to where someone divine like maybe Supreme Kai or Kibito recognizing it in her when they come to Earth in a like divine recognizing divine moment, but I've also been toying with a different idea that actually reaches into the lore I made up for the Gerudo pantheon. Her dad is the sun god, who is also the god of prophecy as well. Even before I toyed with the idea of making her a demigod, I played around with ideas of her having dreams and strong intuitions about like the changes in Ganondorf and the potential consequences of his actions and plans for their people, so extending that here would actually make sense. Right now I have dream ideas and maybe learning about your heritage through a dream is cliche but EH. I'll also get to explore her mom a little more if I do it this way too so that's kind of neat.

Now what exactly will her form look like, let alone what are all the perks to having a divine papa? Not sure yet. Fire and heat and god ki (for all that's fucking worth with Super's minimal exploration of a cool concept lmao; basically rn it's just serving as a sort of "No one really knows how strong she REALLY is because you can't sense god ki the same way lol) is about all I got rn. Maybe I'll just go straight magical girl on her. Who knows!]

[thepitofjob]

Job 16: 6-14. "The Breadcrumbs."

"Proud but not arrogant" is the fruit of the actions of the student found in the Shule. Thoughts grown in the orchard of the Divine Estate produce juice that is used to produce wine. Thoughts grown on the Diabolic Estate core the fruits like worms and make them shitty.

The thought of owning a cored apple in between one's ears causing a gaunted brain should be terrifying. The Book of Job calls the cause of gaunt "a refrain of a pain".

The only way to escape a gaunted brain is through the cultivation of what is called the Bud in Hebrew, "the silent witness." The Bud is "a discourse between the eyebrows that takes place while sitting on the butt."

"Our noun may denote the back or buttocks of a man (Psalm 129:3) or of cherubim (Ezekiel 10:12). It may denote a hill (Ezekiel 16:24), or the elevation of an altar (Ezekiel 43:13). It may describe a quality of a shield, perhaps its rim or bulbous curvature (Job 15:26), something said, perhaps a build-up argumentation or boastful discourse (Job 13:12), the hairy "hills" or "rims" of the eye, which are most probably a person's eyebrows (Leviticus 14:9), and something pertaining to a wheel, probably the curved segments that form the rim of it (1 Kings 7:33)."

The following section explains from the eyebrows down to the kidneys and bladder how to witness the Words of Moses and become successful at arguing for their truth, called the piercing eye by the Rab.

Truth feeds the mind and cures it of worms. Truth shatters one's enemies, it ends the need for their pity. Jews are the most piteous race of persons in human history as they have been murdered and persecuted in very large numbers because of worms grown on the Diabolic Estate. But Ha Shem has finally been revealed and as He promised in the Torah, so now has the truth reality of the Jew. Now it should be easy to perform the Bud, the build up the hill of the enlightened Jewish Self:

6 “Yet if I speak, my pain is not relieved;     and if I refrain, it does not go away. 7 Surely, God, you have worn me out;     you have devastated my entire household. 8 You have shriveled me up—and it has become a witness;     my gauntness rises up and testifies against me. 9 God assails me and tears me in his anger     and gnashes his teeth at me;k     my opponent fastens on me his piercing eyes. 10 People open their mouths to jeer at me;     they strike my cheek in scorn     and unite together against me. 11 God has turned me over to the ungodly     and thrown me into the clutches of the wicked. 12 All was well with me, but he shattered me;     he seized me by the neck and crushed me. He has made me his target; 13     his archers surround me. Without pity, he pierces my kidneys     and spills my gall on the ground. 14 Again and again he bursts upon me;     he rushes at me like a warrior.

The Values in Gematria are:

v. 6-7: Surely God, you have worn me out. The Number is 11602, יאס‎ב, yasev, "what are you going to create with all of your effort?"

v. 8-9: My opponent has piercing eyes. The mirror image is called one's opponent until the attainment to Ha Shem. He must be eradicated using the lessons found in the Shule. Some people think this means they can't masturbate or they have to check with God or the Bible on every last little thing but that is not correct. The opponent is the ego, the sneaky part of the mind, the one that tests the world. The world as the verses say will test us back and that is not desirable.

The Number is 9082, טאֶפֶסח‎ב, tapeshahb, "stretch out". "To test beyond the limites of one's obstinate mind, to exit confining spaces." In the same way the mind wants more space to grow into, which means one must give up on silly superstitions, so do ones persecutors cause the world to become stretched thin.

"The verb τεινω (teino) means to stretch tight (of reins, of a sheet, of a bow, of tendons), or in general, to exert a force to something so as to stretch it to its limit. It derives from the same Proto-Indo-European root "ten-" that also yielded the Latin verb teneo, to reach for, to hold, to grasp, from which English gets words like tenet, tenor and tenure.

In the classics our verb τεινω (teino) is likewise used in the sense of to strain or exert oneself (in order to reach something), to strain an issue or dispute, to run off at full speed, and so on. It may be used in the sense of to aim at (to stretch a bow and thus aim an arrows toward some target), to lay out in one's full length, to stretch or hold out, to stretch or reach for, to lengthen (of time). Our verb does not occur independently in the New Testament, only as part of the following compounds:

Together with the intensifying prefix α- (a-), meaning very much: the verb ατενιζω (atenizo) , meaning to look intently, to stare (comparable to our English word attention, from the Latin equivalents). In the classics as well as in the New Testament, this word is applied mostly to staring eyes, and on occasion to an otherwise probing (or obstinate) mind. This verb is used 14 times; see full concordance.

Together with the preposition εκ (ek), meaning out: the verb εκτεινω (ekteino), meaning to stretch out. In the New Testament this verb is nearly exclusively used to describe the stretching out of one's hand(s), but certain usages suggest that more is implied. In Acts 26:1, for instance, the stretching out of Paul's hand is equated with him speaking for himself. Note that the word χειρ (cheir), hand, also denotes one's personal power, and whatever is in one's hand(s) is in one's power. In Acts 27:30, this same verb is used to describe the casting off of a ship's anchors. This verb is used 16 times, see full concordance, and from it in turn derive:

The noun εκτενεια (ektenia), which literally describes the act (or instance) of reaching or stretching out, but which is used to describe zeal or enthusiasm (Acts 26:7 only).

The adjective εκτενης (ektenes), literally meaning stretched out, but used to describe the warm bond between friends who reach out to each other, with zeal and eagerness (Acts 12:5 and 1 Peter 4:8 only). From this adjective in turn come:

The adverbially used comparative of the previous, namely εκτενεστερον (ektenesteron), meaning more zealously (Luke 22:44 only).

The adverb εκτενως (ektenos), meaning intently, zealously (1 Peter 1:22 only).

Together with the preposition επι (epi), meaning on or upon: the verb επεκτεινω (epekteino), meaning to reach onto or toward (Philippians 3:13 only).

Together with the preposition υπερ (huper), meaning over or beyond: the verb υπερεκτεινω (uperekteino), meaning to overstretch, to overdo (2 Corinthians 10:14 only).

Together with the preposition παρα (para), meaning near or nearby: the verb παρατεινω (parateino), meaning to stretch beside, along or nearly onto (Acts 20:7 only). In the classics this verb may mean to prolong or protract, which is how it appears to be used in the New Testament.

Together with the preposition προ (pro), meaning before, in front of: the verb προτεινω (proteino), meaning to stretch out before (Acts 22:25 only). In this case, the "stretching" relates to the tight thongs, and the "before" relates to the beating that was to follow and for which Paul was bound.

The adjective στενος (stenos) means narrow (hence English words like stenosis and stenography) or confined. In the Greek classics, this word is used largely the same as "narrow" is in English, with "the narrows" describing sea straights (the straights of Gibraltar, the Hellespont), and "narrow minds" referring to folks of petty mental means. This word was also used to describe a "narrow spot", either literally or figuratively, in the sense of being driven in a corner, or being stuck in a difficult place where one can barely move or escape from.

It's formally unclear where this word comes from, but here at Abarim Publications we surmise it's one of a small list of words that were amended with a leading sigma (see our article on σειρα, seira, for a discussion of this phenomenon), and hence is the counterpart of our verb τεινω (teino), to stretch (see above). In the classics, our adjective στενος (stenos) also occurs as the variant στεινος (steinos).

Our adjective occurs in Matthew 7:13, 7:14 and Luke 13:24 only, and only to describe the narrow (i.e. difficult to get to and through), gate onto life, as opposite the broad (i.e. easy to get to and through) one that leads to destruction. In modern evangelical climates it's not always emphasized, but if the going seems easy, the chances are excellent we're not really going anywhere. Not all difficulty leads to life, of course, but life is a difficult trait to get right, and the gospel of bliss and fun might be the worst good news anyone has ever received.

From our adjective derive:

The verb στεναζω (stenazo), meaning to groan or sigh deeply, to vocally demonstrate that one is in a tight spot or trying to figure out something very difficult. This verb does not describe a state of defeat and placid sorrow, but the roar of flexed muscles, bent backs and a hell-or-high-water kind of can-do attitude. In James 5:9 the author warns to not loudly wail when carrying a brother's failings, as this would make everybody feel bad, but simply carry what we can, knowing that those who carry our failings are quiet not because our failings are light but because they are dignified about them. This mighty verb is used 6 times; see full concordance, and from it in turn come:

Together with the preposition ανα (ana), meaning on, upon or again: the verb αναστεναζω (anastenazo), meaning to groan out loud, or several loud groans in a row. This verb is an amplified version of the previous (Mark 8:12 only).

The noun στεναγμος (stenagmos), meaning a groan or groaning (Acts 7:34 and Romans 8:26 only). In Acts, the author quotes Exodus 2:24, but Paul in his letter to the Romans speaks of "un-talkable groanings", which doesn't so much emphasize the non-verbal nature of the Holy Spirit's groaning, but rather that the Holy Spirit's most arduous efforts can't be joined or spread out over a broader conversation.

Together with the preposition συν (sun), meaning together or with: the verb συστεναζω (sustenazo), meaning to groan together or jointly groan (to be engaged in a communal effort that has everybody groaning together). This important verb occurs in Romans 8:22 only, where it describes the collective groaning of creation, not out of defeat but out of the unshakable conviction that it is bringing forth something very much worth the effort. If we are correct and our parent verb indeed comes from the PIE root "ten-", then our verb συστεναζω (sustenazo) is very closely related to the English verb to sustain.

Together with the noun χωρα (chora), "region of cultural distinction": the verb στενοχωρεω (stenochoreo), to narrow one's space (2 Corinthians 4:8 and 6:12 only). From this word in turn comes:

The noun στενοχωρια (stenochoria), which is commonly translated with distress or persecution but literally describes a narrowing of breathing space (in a cultural or intellectual sense).

v. 10-11: God has thrown me into the clutches of the wicked. Clutches are not handbags without straps, they are what we long for. What one wants one will draw too one. No one longs to be ritually pure however. But the sage says it is the job of the Shule to teach us how to long for the proper experience of one's own man:

"To covet (this is the famous one, used in "you shall not covet"), אוה ('wh II), to desire, wish or covet, פער (pa'ar), to desire or lust — and since our verb כסף (kasap) occurs a mere few times, it evidently expresses a specific and rather reserved sensation. In Arabic this verb means to be colorless, obscure or even to eclipsed (of a heavenly body) or to be depressed in appearance. In Aramaic (and subsequently modern Hebrew) it means to become pale or deteriorate, and is often used in the sense of to put to shame or frighten. Its five Biblical contexts are:

You will call and I will answer you; you will long for the creature your hands have made (Job 14:15).

He is like a lion that is eager to tear (Psalm 17:12).

Now you have gone off because you longed to return to your father's house (Genesis 31:30).

My soul longed and even yearned (כלה, kaleh) for the courts of YHWH (Psalm 84:2).

Gather yourselves together, yes, gather, O nation without shame/desire (Zephaniah 2:1).

v. 12-13: But his archers targeted me. They spilled my kidneys and my gall. Gall is bitterness. It can only be cured by its antidote called merara, the Myrrh, the Balsam of God, "the oil of the wedding night."

Telling one strength and sweetness are both types of bitterness associated with the Myrrh does not even scratch the surface of the meaning of the above. Complete withdrawal of the mind from the clutches for the purposes of conserving time, money, energy, emotions, and one's visions until the right time is the reason we study the Torah in the Shule.

The Number is 11169, ט‎יאאו‎ ‎, tiao, "the Theo."

Theo is thineself. It comprises all the theories and their accomplishments that reveal Ha Shem, specifically "definitions of God that we are sure about."

The etymology suggests the God and the Torah are like instructions for putting together prefab furniture that arrives in a box:

"The primary purpose of knowing things — knowing when to sow, when to harvest, how to track prey, how to battle threats, how to respond to a complex international social market — was to create security and thus increase people's chances of survival (see our article on the word πιστις, pistis, meaning "faith" or rather "that which one is sure about", for more on this). And all details of all knowledge added up to the unified quest for the basic operating principle of the universe."

If one finds oneself unable to do this, Ha Shem has yet to be achieved.

v. 14: Again he bursts upon me like a warrior.

=The proper aim or purpose one has longed for has been achieved. It is accompanied by a report, and then the warrior goes and takes what he knows is right for him and also right for the world:

"The root רעה (ra'a III) does not occur in the Bible, but in Aramaic — רעא (ra'a') — it means to take pleasure in or desire, and yields nouns that mean thought, opinion and disposition. Some scholars propose that this root and its derivatives are in fact a specialized group of words coming from root רעה (ra'a I). Also note that two of three derivations of this root are also produced by the previous root:

The masculine noun רע (rea'), meaning aim or purpose (Psalm 139:1).

The feminine noun רעות (re'ut), meaning longing or striving (Ecclesiastes 1:14).

The masculine noun רעיון (ra'yon), meaning longing (Ecclesiastes 1:17).

The verb רוע (rua') describes the production of a sudden burst of sound brought about by humans, namely an aggressive war cry (Joshua 6:10, 1 Samuel 17:52, Isaiah 42:13), a defensive alarm cry (Judges 7:21), a cry out of distress (Isaiah 15:4, Micah 4:9), a signal to start marching (Numbers 10:7), a triumphant shout (Jeremiah 50:15), a shout in applause (1 Samuel 10:24), or religious zeal (1 Samuel 4:5), or joy (Psalm 65:13). This verb is a bit of a chameleon; it appears formed as הריעו (Judges 15:14), הרעו (1 Samuel 17:20), יריע (Isaiah 42:13), תרועה (Joshua 6:5) and תרועת (Ezra 3:13).

The derivatives of this verb are:

The noun רע (rea'), meaning a shouting (Exodus 32:17, Job 36:33, Micah 4:9 only, but each of these occurrences is dubious and may rather be due to any of the above).

The feminine noun תרועה (teru'a), meaning alarm or war cry (Joshua 6:5, Amos 1:14), marching signal (Numbers 10:5, 2 Chronicles 13:12), shout for joy (1 Samuel 4:5, Ezra 3:13, Job 8:21)."

The Number is 2988, ךטףח, "picked up pat," "a morsel of bread."

The creation of the individual Jewish Self and the Nation are a process made up of bread crumbs. This is very deluded world. It is being run by criminals and dipshitz. The human race has no idea what it is doing or why in spite of every advantage. The purposes named by the Torah and Tanakh are the ones that will save it. But they are not accepted ubiquitously and are not taught to but a few.

[aviculor]

Re-visiting the "Knowledge armor evolutions" idea because I had a brain blast about Armadimon/Digmon.

MetallifeKuwagamon is gold with purple markings, which gives it a reasonably strong visual connection to Digmon. And then RhinoKabuterimon as the ultimate works so well I'm astonished neither I nor KarnEX thought of it. It's big and bulky, it has a shell, it's down on all its legs, it's gold and purple (more of a Gamecube indigo and that becomes the dominant color, but you get the idea), and it has fin-like protrusions where ears would be. On paper, it's basically the platonic ideal of what an Armadimon evo should be. I'm actually happier with this than I am with any idea I've had for its natural evolution path.

I already discussed my line for Wormmon/Searchmon. Climbmon and Shivamon have perfect synergy with them, you could parse a narrative about searching for enlightenment, and Shivamon has a little worm buddy. I actually really love this one. In fact, this line feels completely organic as a Wormmon evolution line.

I could have given the Funbeemon evos to V-mon/Honeybeemon, but I decided Dinobeemon actually does work the best because of the whole "V-mon wearing an exoskeleton" commonality. And then GranKuwagamon is a no-brainer since it's the default evolution of Dinobeemon. When you think about it, this line is canon compliant since Dinobeemon and GranKuwagamon legitimately are V-mon evolutions...Just in the same way Paildramon and Imperialdramon are Wormmon evolutions. GrandisKuwagamon Honey Mode also exists, but that feels a little bit cheap since it's literally a digixross using Honeybeemon. It's also not in the builder.

Hawkmon/Flybeemon is where I start to moan about the lack of options again. BanchoStingmon is red and black, and you could give it some poetic meaning that Yolei's partner would evolve into the final form of Ken's partner. I could have put Jewelbeemon as the perfect level to bridge the gap, but being green is literally the opposite of being red. Vespamon does a good enough job in that slot, it's got robotic armor with black stripes. Hawkmon talks and acts like a samurai while Vespamon is an elite knight. idk

Patamon/Mothmon...we really do need more insect digimon that aren't bees or rhinoceros beetles or stag beetles. I'm defaulting to KarnEX's idea of Cannonbeemon simply because of the gun abdomen. And then TigerVespamon essentially just because it was still available.

Tailmon/Butterflamon gets Eosmon, also KarnEX's idea, because Morphomon's natural evolutions were never revealed. We could have had a full line of butterfly fairy digimon that could have been used here, but alas. Queenbeemon also works as the ultimate stage, but I like Eosmon Ultimate because it's at least butterfly-themed and its actual body is gold so there actually is a good amount of visual cohesion. It's also very goddess-like which ties it to Angewomon and Ophanimon.

[ccstiles]

Omg this actually goes along with my latest brain worms ^_^

Also this turned out longer than I thought- anyways

*AHEM*

The setting is on an alien ship, think Star Trek but with no humans. Why? Because a lot of alien species think that humans are an abomination to whatever being created the universe.

Like, what do you mean they have a super corrosive acid in their stomach??? You have to be shitting me Vekktar.

Well, as I said, no humans allowed on the ship. The problem? It's one of the most popular and most dangerous ships in the universe, carrying very important people and information in it daily.

So you, the listener (a human) was tasked to infiltrate the ship, get blueprints of it and it's software, as well as a general idea as to the specific types of info and people it carries.

You'd think that it would be hard disguising yourself as another alien race, but thankfully, most aliens think humans are dumb. They also have no idea just how realistic human special effects makeup is.

So now, thanks to hours and hours of training in special effects, a little bit of interplanitarian black market shopping for a new identity, you finally board the ship under a disguise as one of the more peaceful alien species (so that if they find out a human tried to sneak onto a ship disguised as them, they won't instantly declare war on humans).

The mission goes well! You're able to communicate and create bonds with other shipmates since they see you as an equal. You try your best to not form friendships that are too close (as you do not want them finding out your true identity) but you just can't help yourself. After all, one of a human's greatest weaknesses is their friendliness.

You meet a particularly nice alien (the speaker) and become quite close along your journey around galaxies. You two spend lots of time together, playing games, goofing off, and generally having an absolute blast.

It isn't until the very end of your mission, when you've gotten all the information you need, that your new alien best friend finds out.

It wasn't a grand ordeal when your friend found out. You were turning in for the night, doing your nightly routine of taking off the heaps of makeup you put on every morning before you head to bed for a good night sleep. This was routine to you at this point, and that's where you slipped up.

You forgot to lock the door.

So halfway through removing all the gunk on your face, you hear the door to your quarters open.

"yo! Where are you?" They called out, "I have something to show you!"

You tried to quickly run and shut the door to the bathroom, but you were too late. Standing face to face with your best friend, their eyes widened in shock.

"wha- a human?" Their voice turned cruel as they drew their weapon at their hip, "how the hell did you get in here."

You quickly explained yourself, your friend recognizing you from your voice.

"wait you... You're a human??" They were confused, slowly putting the pieces together in their brain.

They then questioned you, asking about your mission, its purpose, and other things.

(I can't think of any more at the moment, but yey :])

VAs/Writers! Writing prompt time;

You just released an audio or script with the title "Your Friend Discovers You Are Secretly a Human"

What's the story, what's the characters, and how do you interpret it?