#pspsps if you have questions about them

[casualshrimp-but-undertale]

Meet Magical!Sans and Amila. My blorbos!!!

I am trying to go through everything I’ve made for this AU to finally write a comprehensible story for them. For the time being, let’s say they are joining the undertale multiverse hehe.

Magical Sans and Amila existed for 5 years now (probably more??), and so yeah happy to share them.

Magical and Amila belongs to me

[hoseoksluna]

BOOKWORMS | knj

pairing: boyfriend!namjoon x reader

genre: smut; fluff

word count: 4.4k

summary: namjoon thinks of you when he reads a smut scene in his book.

warnings: boyfriend namjoon!!!, kimi namijoon reading, mentions of sex (riding), oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, the importance of consent, teasing, raw sex, breeding kink <3, big dick namu!!, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, joonie's chain dangling in ur face, tummy bulge, creampie, bruising, hickeys, aftercare:(

note: it took blood, sweat and tears (hehe) to write this and i'm so happy it's finally here!! i loved writing about namjoon. he's my whole soul and the entirety of my heart and i have to write abt him again soon. please take your time reading this and enjoy urself! let me know what you think in the comments mwah (or tell me anonymously in my inbox) and as i always say please like and if u want to - reblog, but i won't pressure u baby. love love you!!

side note: if you want to jump straight to the smut, it's right under the asterisks &lt;;3

You revel, you truly do, in seeing your boyfriend in such a serene state of mind. 

Nose buried in a book, Namjoon pays no mind to the surroundings fleeting by him with each flutter of his eyelashes. It goes unnoticed by him, strangely so, how you tidy up the apartment you share. How you feed the two cats that chose you and him to be their human parents. How you fondle their soft ears. How you bend over the furniture to whisper ‘pspsps’ at them when they need a moment away from you just to see their round eyes look up at you stupidly. Namjoon usually observes these moments; this utmost natural behavior of yours. He draws strength from the homeliness of it all with each and every swell of his lungs. Needs it to survive. That is until he gets a hold of that one papery portal and sits comfortably on the couch, one ankle propped over the knee. Then, he ceases to exist in this world. 

You’re happy for him. Over time, you’ve come to find that you have a certain fondness for the way he remains stoic. Because you always know what kind of book he’s reading, a smile blossoms on its own over the line of your lips whenever your eye catches the sculpture-like look on his face. It’s like even if he let himself hold his breath, his consciousness would waver back to the earth and the wretched awareness that he’s here, among mortals and the unfair capitalist system aftermath, would stream in his bloodstream, poisoning his experience. It takes the leisure out of it and makes the bed for misery instead. He doesn’t like it. Hates it, in fact. It’s a necessity that he focuses, as he embarks on the journey, because he does it for you.

Namjoon confides in his feelings and his literature with you almost on a daily basis. On the same couch, with the same cats snoring faintly, their small bodies spilling over the perimeter of your tangled legs. Doesn’t matter if it’s his thigh or the curve of your hip. The animals always find a warm crook to doze in, eavesdropping in, with their curious little ears, on the conversations you’re having. Though you reckon they like the meat of his thigh the best. You do, too. Can’t really blame them. The same serenity that intimately knows the person of Namjoon perceives the person of you when he prompts you to rest your head on his lap while he brushes his book-kissed fingers through the silky waterfall of your hair. Thoroughly explains the intricacies of the plot he’s invested in to you. Describes the characters as if they’re real people he’s become acquainted with. They are real to you as you listen. As you ask additional questions and gaze up at his eyes just to catch that one body of a shooting star fiery hot in the glossiness of his eyes. As you wonder, openly, what will happen to them.

“I’ll tell you when they tell me.” He sunk the promise onto the smooth skin of your forehead with the pucker of his lips.

It’s how you discovered, in all seriousness, that the plaster of his stoicism breaks during these literary moments.

Various colors of emotion tug and twist his features, the bare kind. The unrestrained kind. You know it’s a relief for him when the dam bursts open, soaking you in the beauty of humanness one only finds in literature these days. You can’t help but fall in love with him all over again when his eyebrows furrow. When his orbs nearly burn a hole in the ceiling when he’s trying to think of the right word that will ultimately help him convey the unfolding of the storyline. When he gives up and weaves English into his sentences, relying on his hands to say what his overstimulated brain fails to do. 

He reads to pass knowledge to you. The serenity whispered it into the chambers of your heart, a puff of hot breath in winter’s cold. It soothingly rubbed his shoulders when Namjoon told you there used to be a time when he couldn’t stand the sight of his books lining up the walls of his apartment. Wanted to burn it down and watch as the evidence of his melancholy dies in front of him. Because that’s what most of his book collection consisted of back then. The innermost shadowy faces of his pain. Loneliness. Sadness. Despair from life, from it not being enough for him, from it not saving a spot there for him–not once throughout the course of his life. That’s why he reads different kinds of books now. Ones that do not reflect his survival before you.

The reader has to get wiser, ruffled by life in order to gain more, gain what they need from those once deeply loved pages. It’s what the serenity believes. It’s what you believe and hope for Namjoon. That one day, somehow by the healing of the love you give him, he will look back and pick a souvenir from that moonless country of pain. Put it up somewhere between the spines of his new cluttered collection. Look at it from time to time and sense that it’s telling him something. Something that will fill the stitched-up cracks in his heart with sunlight. Something that he will pass over to you. It’s your love language after all. Namjoon reads because you read. It’s his own personal healing thing. 

You two are just a pair of two bookworms. Unfit for the world outside. Fit for the land you two created. Whose soil you take care of together.

***

Dinner is almost ready by the time you feel his fingertips gripping your hips. You hum, acknowledging his presence. Glad for the homely heat that radiates off of his body and seeps into your bones as you stir the risotto you decided to make on the stove. Coldness had been embracing you all day while he read so you’re overjoyed that he ripped it away from you.

Namjoon places a kiss on your temple and you sigh in relief. You might be too dependent on him, but so is he. He wouldn’t be nuzzling his face in your hair, squeezing your waist, peppering kisses on your tender skin if he wasn’t. It’s the perfect balance. And it’s not that you’re not able to be away from each other. The principle of looking forward to one another is what makes it so sweet, so endurable for the pair of you. Of the coming back and coming into contact at the end of the day. It’s natural. Simple. Human.

“Missed me?” Namjoon husks into your ear. 

You smirk and turn off the stove, turning around to face him. “Terribly.”

His body is clad in a black T-shirt that fits his broad figure well and a pair of baggy sweats of the same color, having discarded the warm crewneck he was wearing earlier somewhere in the universe of his book. A long silver chain twinkles in the middle of his chest in the yellow light. You caress it with your fingers and leave your palm there, on the hardness of his pecs. 

“I finished the book,” he says and you blink up at him. You’re not surprised at all. “Couldn’t put it down.”

Sleepy wrinkles have left their mark on his face from the cozy position he laid in for too long on the couch. His short sunlit hair, grown healthily from his military service, is tousled in all directions and you smooth it down for him. How did God bless you with such a beautiful man is something you’ll wonder about for the rest of your life. 

“What happened to Theo in the end?” you ask, genuinely curious about whether one of the characters you’ve grown attached to is okay after all the shit the author put him through. 

Namjoon was reading a coming-of-age book about a boy named Theo. A panorama of his childhood and adolescent life, you’ve heard all about it. Namjoon cared a lot about this story, cared a lot about the protagonist’s emotions and reactions to the reappearing storms. What made him stick with it, despite the nearly triggering themes, is the fact that Theo never let go of his optimism no matter what. It was incredibly inspiring for Namjoon. Something new. Something that he never thought could be possible. You’re proud of him for daring to read a book so reminiscent of his past.

“You’re not gonna believe it,” Namjoon says, a blush creeping along his cheeks.

You raise one of your eyebrows in question. 

“Theo got laid,” Namjoon reveals, laughing softly. “I’m so happy for him.”

You gasp and burst into giggles. “What?”

“He got some!” 

Your laughter rises in volume. “He lost his virginity and that’s the end?”

“It was a big moment for him. A triumph of some kind. Like he shed his old skin and left that broken life behind. It was amazing.” Namjoon’s eyes glint with tiny shooting stars and you melt. He always finds poetic meanings in the varieties of the character arcs. You think you just fell in love with him all over again. 

“That’s really beautiful,” you admit. It reminds you of something. Of something quite personal. “My first time with you changed my life as well.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows curl in tenderness. Dragon eyes widen and round in fervent emotion. He squeezes his arms around you, enfolding you in a hug. Kisses you warmly. Strokes your hair down your back. Your own eyes pool with little tears with the intimate knowledge that you chose the right person to unfold your raw femininity with. No one, no man other than him could have created such a safe for that to happen.

“Tell you what,” Namjoon says a bit hoarsely. “I saw us in it.”

You hum, encouraging him to continue. Crave for more of his thoughts and confidential findings. Its fire spreading through your body, as each word of his registers in your brain, always makes you feel phenomenally alive. You’re not timid to avow that it’s your addiction. Shame doesn’t know you.

“Elena was on top and he was watching her. In awe of her,” he murmurs, caressing your cheek with the tip of his thumb. “Made me think of our last time. A life changing experience of mine as well.”

You welcome the fire and suspire with sudden desire, eyes lidding. Your heart begins to thump. Namjoon studies your reaction. 

“You remember well, don’t you?” He nudges his nose against yours. “I was in awe of you just the same.” 

It’s impossible not to remember. The memory consumes your mind every waking hour. Gets you needy in ways you haven’t felt before. Namjoon had you sat on his lap among the fluffiness of your innumerable pillows and plushies. Had you do all the work as he focused on the sleekness of your freshly moisturized calves, its coconut aroma interfused with the scent of sex and the euphony of your bounces, ragged breaths and broken moans making his head all fucked up. He was loud himself, more loud than you ever recalled him being. Reading your body at the mercy of the pleasure his hard length was giving you with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Not once did he take his eyes off of you, not once did he help you. Just gripped your calves. Your thighs. Your tits all in his face. Only when you came hard, out of your own delightful merit, did his eyes roll back. You left his hips glazed with the evidence of your well-deserved orgasm, a porcelain statue made glossy.

A little later, during your pillow talk, he told you he’d found the idea of you using him while getting yourself off extremely hot. Made him more hard than he’d been in a while. Begged you to be even more selfish next time, adding an indistinct, ‘well, of course, if you want’ to the end of his sentence because he’s Namjoon.

“I do,” you breathe. “Touched myself to it this morning while you were still asleep.”

Namjoon groans. “God.” He kisses the side of your neck. Gets close to your ear. “You wanna do it again, hm? Wanna fuck me?” 

You might burst. His closeness, his heat, his need to ask for your consent turns you unstable. You’re choked up on your words, mind too fuzzy to say something. Turned on. Fucked up.

“You wanna show me how you touched yourself?” Namjoon continues, but you shake your head against the side of his face. 

You had touched yourself in the shower. Couldn’t say no to the impulse. Sharing that part of you for his eyes to see isn’t something you’re quite ready for. To you, it’s still something that’s yours. Something private. A courage you have yet to pluck up. You’re afraid to give him this last part of your femininity.

“Not today,” you whisper, planting a kiss on his neck. Feel him shiver. “I’m sorry. Do you mind?”

Withdrawing from your neck, Namjoon looks you dead in the eye, brows twisted in stern seriousness. “Don’t ever apologize for something like that again. Hear me when I say that.”

You squeeze his shoulder, the corners of your mouth lowering in a pout. Thankfulness grips your heart and suddenly it’s hard to breathe. 

“You know this is why we do this right?” he asks you. “Why I ask you these questions? I need to always know what you’re comfortable with so I don’t make a mistake.”

You nod. “Yes, Namjoon, I know and I’m so thankful.”

“Good. I’ll never push you to do anything you don’t want. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t.” 

“That’s my girl. 

You grab him by the back of his neck and engulf him in a hug. Luckiest girl in the world? That you are. The fact that you’re his is still something you can’t wrap your head around.

“We can stop. We don’t even have to do anything tonight—”

“No, Namjoon.” You withdraw. “Look.” Wrapping your hand around his wrist, you slip his hand beneath the confines of your panties. 

His breath shakes when he reaches your soaked folds. He traces your hole with his middle finger and your hips follow his movement, the pleasure so faint but so good that you flutter your eyes closed.

“Fuck, baby.” 

“Yeah, I need you. Need more,” you breathe out. “Can’t leave me like this, can you?”

Namjoon hums. “No, I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of this pussy.” 

He kisses you. Massages his tongue against yours. You buck your hips into his hand and Namjoon hears your body language. Takes his fingers up and rubs your swollen clit from side to side, quickening his pace as he swallows your moans down his throat. Gets angry at your tight leggings hindering him in giving you more, so he gets on his knees and swiftly pulls them down along with your underwear. 

“Sit on the counter.”

You comply right away. Namjoon takes your feet in his hands and gently removes your slippers, removing your garments fully so they don’t pool around your ankles. He needs your legs spread and he needs them spread wide for what he’s about to do to you. 

Torso long enough to reach you, he remains on his knees. Runs his hands up the back of your thighs to guide you into the position he wants you in. “Lock your arms around the back of your knees. Don’t let go.”

You do as he says, biting your lips in nervousness. Intertwine your hands together. Prepare yourself to die. 

Namjoon studies your dewy pussy, index and middle finger mimicking the letter V as he slides them up and down your folds, squeezing just right to hear you mewling. Your knees being so close together makes her look a lot more pillowy and you hear Namjoon breathe hard, absolutely hypnotized by the beauty of your flesh. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping down my hand.” He withdraws his fingers to show you how your slick trickles down the lines on his palm, changing the course of his life once and for all. 

Your clit throbs, breath matching his. “Please, Namjoon.”

He curses inaudibly. Brings his fingers back down to your folds, squeezes your lips and your clit together. Hisses at the sweet whimpery sounds spilling out of your mouth. Presses tighter so you whine needily for him. Takes you into his mouth when he accomplished what he wanted, tonguing your clit in slow agonizing circles that has you buckling your hips again. Puts his hands on your thighs to keep you down, flicking fast to absolutely abuse the fuck of you. Dragon eyes zeroing on yours, he gives you the hypnosis that your pussy did to him as he sucks on your bundle of nerves. You can’t even scream. Can’t breathe. The pleasure overwhelms you wholly and straps you down. There’s nothing you can do but take it. 

You come hard on his tongue. Namjoon laps it all up gladly. And when he’s finished, he stands up and slips those two digits that ruined you into your hole. Doesn’t move them. Lets you adjust instead.

“One more,” he mutters. “Please.”

You nod.

“Use your words or we’re stopping.”

You groan and close your eyes, your thighs visibly shaking in your iron grip from your orgasm. “Yes, Namjoon, one more. I’ll come for you.”

Namjoon places a wet kiss on your thigh to praise you, and to thank you as well. Begins to move his fingers promptly, but can’t seem to get enough of your skin. Proceeds to make it shiny with his liquid love, sucking it to bruise you. To remember this moment a little more fondly in the morning. 

Creating a trail up to the back of your knee, his digits pick up the speed. The pool of slick you left in his palm sloshes with each rapid thrust of his hand. He looks back at you and sees you lost in the pleasure, eyes lidded and unfocused. “Look at me.” 

You do, weakly.

“Just a little bit more and I’ll fuck you, all right?”

You’re about to nod, but decide against it. “Mhm, yes, Namjoon, fuck.” 

He smiles down at you. Your relief inches closer. “I’m so proud of you for speaking up today. For letting me know.” 

You could cry right now. Because of his fingers making you feel so good. Because of his kindness making you feel so safe. It all closes in on you and you whimper. 

Abruptly, Namjoon unravels your grip on your knees and kisses you, tongue slipping in. You come all over his hand, without meaning to, and he doesn’t stop. On the contrary, Namjoon fucks you harder. Takes all four of his fingers and strums your clit, prolonging your orgasm, swallowing down all of your moans. 

“Come on.”

Namjoon helps you down. If it weren’t for his arms holding you steady, you would’ve collapsed on the floor. Your legs shake, muscles taut and tense. 

“I got you.”

Sat on the floor with his joggers and boxers pulled beneath his crotch, he pulls you down on his lap. A wisp of precum adorns his tip and you wrap your hand around it, collecting it with your thumb. Watch him as you swirl your tongue around the digit before sucking on it, letting go with an obscene pop. Namjoon licks his lips, hands clasping your hips hard enough to bruise you. Twitches in your other hand.

“Don’t fucking do that to me, baby.” 

You laugh almost inaudibly, drunk on him. “Are you gonna come in me?” 

He replaces your hand, holding his length at the base for you to sink down. And you do, gasping softly at his thickness. Your dewiness helps it to be a smooth ride.

“Gonna pump you full. Leave you dripping,” he promises, voice restrained. “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll remember it for the rest of your life.” 

One thing about Namjoon, he’s a man of his word. 

Seated perfectly on him, he waits for you to adjust. Alleviates the tremble of your thighs with his palms, massaging the muscles. Takes off your shirt and flings it across the kitchen. Gropes your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You start to grind on him, throwing your head back. He latches onto your nipple and flicks the nub with his tongue. You lose your mind, leaking down his balls. 

“Ready?” he asks against the fullness of your breast. 

“Yeah, fuck me, Joon.” 

He thrusts into you once to watch you fall apart. Locks your arms behind your back. Grabs your forearms for his use.

“You forgot something.”

He thrusts again, harder this time.

“What?” you breathe out, meekly. 

“What word do you use when you want to ask for something?”

He watches you as you work it out in your brain. Fucks into you three more times, equally hard, to disrupt you. 

“Fuck, sorry. Please, Joon, please.”

He grinds, hips rotating in circles. 

“Uh-huh, that’s right. Now use it.” 

Namjoon envelops your tit in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your areola. Sucking. Keeping up the agonizing pace. Groaning when you clench down on him. 

“Please, hmph, fuck me.”

Your breast bounces back when he lets go, biting his lip. “Knew you could do it,” he coos. “Smart fucking girl.” 

He begins to fuck you properly. Thrusting up and down as he holds you steady, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As he takes control of your squirming, leaving his fingerprints on your forearms and waist. You’re breathless, whimpering, on the verge of sobbing. So turned on and needy for him that the emotions brim in you, threatening to spill over. 

“Aren’t you?” Namjoon continues. “Aren’t you a smart girl?” 

You nod, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “I’m a smart girl.” 

He spanks your ass to reward you and you arch your back. Tits all in his face. He’s mesmerized watching them bounce and nearly slap against each other, nubs hard and pointed. He licks them up, flicking them with his tongue. You round your shoulders a little in pleasure, his strong grip not letting you fold like your body wants. 

“That’s right. So smart and good for me. So fucking wet. Making me lose my mind.”

Namjoon kisses you. Inhales you. Withdraws only for a mere second before he’s back, tongue in, toying with you the way you like it. You feel your relief calling your name.

“Namjoon, I’m so fucking close. I’m so close. I’m gonna come,” you whine, forehead pressed against his, face twisted in ecstasy.

Namjoon stops out of the blue and slips out of you. You whine loudly, but before you know it, he carries you to the couch and lays you down on it. Takes off all of his clothes until only his silver chain remains, shining bright in the dim light. He spreads your legs, one limb over the backrest, the other around his thigh. Grips his length and tugs at it a few times, the feeling of your wetness making him slippery pulling moan after moan out of him. 

He enters you again and resumes his fast pace, holding your calf in his hand. “Smart girls come on the couch, not on the floor like whores. You got that?” 

You nod almost too eagerly, fucked out beyond measure. “Yes, Joon, please make me come. Please, come here.” 

Namjoon leans towards you, propping his elbows by your head, cradling you. “I’m here. I’m gonna make you come.” 

From this angle, he fucks you more deeply than before, his tip reaching your cervix. You roll your eyes back, but bring them right back to his face when his chain taps you on the chin. You find it so hot that you grind your hips against his, meeting his thrusts, encouraging him to fuck you harder. The chain meets you in erratic staccatos and you scratch your nails down his bare back, the sword-like pendant hurting you in a way that you like. 

Namjoon notices. Slows down his movements. Pinches the chain from the back of his neck. Prompts you to lift your head and slides it over, letting it rest in the middle of your breasts. Then fucks you back into the couch.  

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips. “Gonna breed you. Hm. You want that, don’t you?”

The cord tightens in your lower belly. The bulge of where his tip is hitting you nudges him in his stomach and he looks down. Curses. 

“Look.” 

You follow his eyes and moan. “Namjoon, Namjoon, please come in me. I’m so close. Wanna feel you. Please.” 

He grunts, nodding his head. Licks his fingertips and presses them against your clit. Pleasures you in fast and swift jerks until you’re knocking your head back. Only when he grabs your jaw and kisses you does the cord snap, his lips being your ultimate undoing. 

Namjoon presses you down with his body, keeps you calm and collected. Kisses you all through it, your jaw, your neck, your cheeks. Then his thrusts turn sloppy and his cock twitches in you. He gives you one final hard thrusts and fills you up, groaning against your mouth.

You’re smoothing down the sting of your scratches on his back when he pulls out of you and his cum drips out of you. You wish you could see what he sees, hand on his mouth, careful to catch his drool. You push out more for him and he curses, fondling your pussy with his thumb before he pumps it back in. 

He comes back to you and kisses you. Fixes your hair. Caresses your cheek. Helps you stand on your feet as he leads you into the shower. Washes every inch of your body, heedful of the bruises he left on the back of your thigh. Lathers your hair in your favorite shampoo. Wraps you in a towel. Wanted to moisturize your body, but you told him off, knowing both of you would get horny again. You let him brush your hair, though, placing a comb in his hand. He’s gentle as he undoes the knots, then he blowdries your hair. 

And you do the same for him.

Once the pillow touches your cheeks, you’re both out like a light. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[freyito]

ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍʀ ᴡᴏʟꜰ

✭ pairing(s): gallagher x gn reader

✩ inspo: me and mr wolf by the real tuesday weld

★ summary: The Family is hosting a ball as more promotion for the Charmony Festival. At this ball, a certain Bloodhound Family member takes interest in you...

✧ a/n: pspsps did you know requests are open <3? (also totally not setting up a part 2 not at allll (guy who set up the most obvious intro to part 2))

✦ like my work? feel free to send a request !

🗒 cw: gn reader, anxious reader, mild penacony spoilers, just fluff-ish, he's a little eerie, proofread

✎ wc: 2.5k

The scene before you is incredibly lavish, light, and dreamy. It speaks of The Family’s power and bank, how quickly they are able to set up such a beautiful sight within the Dreamscape. It’s like a fantasy, something you’d only see in, well, dreams. Patrons from all sorts of colorful backgrounds flood the floor, some of them you believe you recognize. The chatter around you drowns out what would be ethereal music, guests piling in from two wide double doors. You look to your right, and you see Sunday, the head of the Oak Family all the way at the end of the venue, hands behind his back and observing the revelry. On the other side of the venue, you see Oti Alfalfa– which is very questionable in its own right. Perhaps the Alfalfa family paid for the venue, or… something. You couldn’t really make sense of it. With how crowded it was, you didn’t want to make sense of it.

With your head down, you make your way through the crowd, doing your best to make sure you don’t bump into anyone. After all, this was the first time you’ve seen anyone dressed up so fancy. And, some passing glances at you tell you that, for once, these people care about what they’re wearing in the Dreamscape. You avoid their gazes, making a beeline to the drinks. Or so you hope– this is a formal ball, after all. Would they really have a drink table like it’s some highschool prom? You get your answer when you reach the end of the hall, and there’s no table in sight. A pity, really. However, you do spot waiters walking around with platters of SoulGlad. It isn’t the best choice, but it’ll wet your throat.

Grabbing one of the delicate glasses after flagging a waiter down, you hunker down in a less populated corner. You watch as the tempo takes hold, dancers falling into line. You grow increasingly conscious that you are here alone, no partner to dance with. Not like you wanted to, right? Throwing yourself into a ball with no partner, not even a friend, it feels… embarrassing. And suddenly, you’re aware of why people's eyes have been on you. You lower your head once more, staring down into the glass of SoulGlad, furrowing your brows. You swirl the glass, watching as it fizzes and dies down, as the music around you dies down. What a shame, really… You had no idea what you were doing here, perhaps you just wanted to join in on the revelry? Enjoying yourself seems like a distant reality, despite that being the essence of the Dreamscape.

Reluctantly, you take a swig of the drink, letting it cool your throat. With a huff, you look back into the near empty glass, practically forgetting to even taste the drink. Whether you’re spurred on by self-hatred or a genuine interest, you make your way to the floor. Catching another waiter as you do so, you hand them to empty glass. It feels weird, being in such a posh environment. Yet, before you can reach the floor, a hand grabs your wrist. It sends a shiver down your spine, and suddenly your new-found confidence is shot. You turn around to reprimand whoever grabbed you, but you’re met with a Bloodhound Guard.

He looks at you with a stoic face, raising his eyebrow slightly when you shoot him a judgmental look. Just because he’s part of the Bloodhound Family doesn’t mean it’s okay for him to grab you so suddenly. And it seems he’s caught onto that, because he lets go of your arm.

“Ahem, sorry about that,” He starts, his tone cool and even, his voice slightly gravelly and deep. Yet, it doesn’t sound like he’s actually sorry, there is no apology in his tone. “You’re, uh, you’re kinda makin’ a warpath, here.”

You raise your eyebrow, and you have no idea how to respond. The words get stuck in your throat, and all you can do is look around. You’re on the edge of the floor, and the dancing hasn’t ceased. Everyone’s eyes are on each other, thank the Aeons.

At your baffled look, he relaxes and chuckles softly. “Sorry, just had to make sure you weren’t… going to cause trouble.”

A light blush dusts your cheeks, and you find yourself feeling embarrassed again. Only then do you take in the man’s disheveled appearance. Some stubble, hair left undone for such a fancy event, and a suit that was put together all too quickly, wrinkled and perhaps a little stained. His hazel eyes bore into yours, as if searching you for something, though he’s already established that you are no threat. Something about him, however, feels familiar. You swear, his name is on the tip of your tongue, you’ve seen this man… somewhere before.

“Apologies, didn’t mean to ruin your night…” He trails off, eyes tearing away to look you up and down. When his eyes meet yours once more, he extends a calloused hand towards you. His gaze softens and he smiles with a huff. “Care for a dance?”

“Ah…” Is the only thing you manage to choke out. You’re taken aback by the sudden invitation, slightly unnerved. It’s not that he himself is nerve wracking, but it’s the way he’s gone from gruff to gentlemanly. “Sure.”

Your response is dry, but you put your hand in his. Wordlessly, he leads you into the center of the floor, falling in step with all the dance partners around you. Despite his messy appearance, he dances elegantly. He matches the flow of the room easily, swaying, each step smooth. Now that you’re up close and personal, you take in the faint smell of tobacco and some generic cologne, and an undertone of something metallic. You do your best to forget about it, allowing yourself to get whisked away by the melody surrounding you two.

“Gallagher, by the way.” The man starts once more, answering the question, or lack thereof, you had asked yourself.

“What brings a Bloodhound to a, uh, ball?” You ask, attempting to strike up conversation. It only hits you now that you are dancing with a stranger, so closely and almost… intimately. Another feeling of unease crawls down your spine, and you can’t understand why.

Gallagher chuckles at your question, as if it’s preposterous to think that the Bloodhound Family do more than just act tough. “We’re allowed a little fun every once in a while,” He shrugs, pulling you ever so slightly closer. “It’s not a crime, right?”

The proximity makes you blush, acutely aware of just how rough and calloused his hands feel, your palms start to get sweaty. You do your best to ignore it, after all, this is a man you just met. “No, no, not at all…” You try to act and sound confident, ignoring the pit in your stomach. “Just… I didn’t expect it, that's all.”

Silence stretches between you two as you spin around the floor, like cogs in a machine. It only strikes you now how… mundane this event truly is. Sure, it is grand and lights up the night, but is there really a purpose? The unease and anxiety settles in your bones, and your pace falters, suddenly no longer able to follow Gallagher’s steps. He notices this, and slows down. But when you meet his eyes, his gaze isn’t concerned. He can see you piecing things together, and a smirk tugs at his lips.

“Got something on your mind?” His voice lowers, barely above the music that surrounds you two. It carries the tone of a challenge, but you don’t want to respond. Your throat is dry once more, and you keep your gaze away from him. He squeezes your hands and traps you within the waltz, every step caging you in.

“Just… nervous, sorry,” You deflect, trying to ignore the creeping unease that seeps into your veins. Perhaps this is all in your head, and you’re just letting the embarrassment, the anxiety, and the nerves get to your head. It’s not a far-off assumption, since you’ve stepped foot in the hall you’ve wanted nothing more than to run out. To wake up from the dream. “My bad.”

Gallagher lets up, loosening his grip on your hand and puts a little space between you two as you fall back into pace with the other dancers. His expression eases into something softer, something that doesn’t necessarily fit a man of his stature.

“You’re more than welcome to take a break,” He doesn’t apologize, brushing off the scene from the moment before. Yet, despite this invitation, he continues to dance, his own pace does not waver. “I won’t mind.”

You feel nauseous, yes, but when was the last time you’ve danced? When was the last time you’ve felt this elegant? You swallow your anxiety and shake your head, allowing yourself to really enjoy this waltz. “It’s okay.”

Gallagher responds with a ‘hm’ and a nod, no words spoken. Finally, you watch your steps. He’s already set himself as the lead, and you had no qualms being the follow. You step backward. Pause. Then you step to the side. Pause. Then you bring your feet together. You continue this pattern, finally hearing the music above the tapping around you. It’s almost comforting in a way, being able to follow something that feels… luxurious. And Gallagher seems to be enjoying himself, as well. He isn’t pulling you closer, his hands hold you loosely, as if he’s suddenly afraid of scaring you. As if he hadn’t.

Slowly, you relax. The beat lulls you into a sense of calm, spinning around the floor as if it came naturally. You are no longer hyper aware of everyone else, feeling as if it’s just you and Gallagher. His heady scent feels the air between you two, the metallic tang you smelled earlier becoming a lot more potent. You do your best to ignore it, the music picking up intensity. He drops your right arm, raising his left hand up, and spinning you. It’s a light and airy feeling, something akin to a warm spring day. All worries wash away so easily under such a simple act.

A man you’ve barely known, that you’re sure you’ve seen a handful of times in Golden Hour and Blue Hour, treating you so delicately despite his gruff exterior. Perhaps it’s the exhaustion that follows such a nerve wracking experience, you can’t tell. For now, it doesn’t matter. You are enjoying yourself, dancing with a Bloodhound or not.

Just as the waltz feels like it’s reaching an end, Gallagher dips you down, his hand placed firmly against the small of your back. His eyes meet yours once more, a sly grin spreading across his face, giving you a proper view of his sharp canine teeth. It isn’t as strange as before, something you feel like you’ve grown used to in just a mere four minutes. But, in that moment, you realize the rough skin of his knuckles isn’t just from his hard line of work, but rather bruised skin. You run your thumb over his knuckles, and he only furrows his eyebrows.

At this, he brings you back up, and you two resume the steady waltz. Now, you want to ask him about it. You steal another glance at his hand, trying to see if you were right, but the dim lights within the ballroom black you from doing so. You can’t get hurt in the Dreamscape, you’re sure of it. So, it must’ve been somewhere in reality…

“Some hooligan was stirring up trouble, wouldn’t leave their room. Had to drag them out.” As if he read your mind, he responds quickly. It’s quite impressive with how in-tune he is with you and your mind.

“Ah,” You nod, trying to sound understanding. It checks out, that must’ve been why his suit was a little… sloppy. “Sounds like it sucked.”

“The Charmony Festival brings out all sorts of undesirables…” Gallagher affirms.

The conversation is dry, but you still feel a weird pull towards him. You simply cannot figure out what else to talk about, what to ask. Anything you fish out in your mind sounds like you’re on a date with him. Sure, the current situation feels like it isn’t far off from that conclusion, but he asked you for a dance, not a date.

And, unfortunately, the ball was coming to an end. It’s a shame, really. Time had slipped away from your mind, and you had enjoyed yourself. Even with such an unsure start, with such an enigmatic fellow, it was fun. The music slowly comes to a stop, as does the other dancers. You and Gallagher are left together in a sea of chatter, flats and shoes clacking as patrons walk off the floor, an awkward air falling over you two like a blanket.

You look at Gallagher, and he has a somber look on his face, watching everyone filter off the dance floor. He himself had a great time, too. Something you assumed may be rare for Bloodhounds. But, he snaps out of it quickly, returning your gaze with a near sheepish smile.

“Such a shame, isn’t it?” He chuckles, “Don’t remember the last time I’ve danced like that.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever danced.” You shake your head, sighing softly.

“Well, you were a perfect dance partner, if that counts for somethin’.” Gallagher starts to walk, following the stream of people.

You follow suit, blushing a little at the compliment. You try to find an organic flow for the conversation, but all you can stutter out is a ‘thanks’ and a small nod as if to affirm your own confidence. You want so badly to follow up with a question about him, to see if you can get a crack from his cool demeanor, but ultimately, you fall short when you two finally step out of the venue. With a brisk exhale, you feel lighter. You hadn’t realized how stuffy it felt within the ballroom until now.

“Well, it was fun,” Gallagher sighs, shrugging off his blazer casually. “I’d invite you for another dance, but, that’s not necessarily my thing.”

With your one chance at getting to know more, you trip over your own words and decide, why not? Why not shoot your shot, ask him out?

“I mean… uh, we could, get dinner, or something?” You sound so unsure, so flustered, blushing a little at your own question.

“Why not?” Gallagher shrugs, an easy smile plastered to his face. “Don’t think I ever got your name, either.”

You hastily tell him your name, bowing your head like you’re grateful to him for this opportunity. You’re more grateful to yourself, being able to ask a question like that. You two quickly exchange phone numbers, and suddenly it feels like there's a weight lifted off your shoulders.

He gives you a thoughtful look, scratching at his stubble. “How about a drink?”

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

I was thinking about the Voice, and how much people outside of the Bene Gesserit actually know about how it works, and how much Chani understands about what's happening to her while she's being controlled by Jessica, and now we have fic. (pspsps more Paul x Chani here if you like this.)

Just imagine this is one of the times they come back to the sietch, some time before Paul drinks the Water of Life.

"What is the Voice?" she asks, trying to keep her tone casual.

They're sitting in her yali, both of them with their battle kit spread out on the floor around them, cleaning and repairing and restocking what's needed after weeks in the desert.

Usul has his own rooms, in a branch of the sietch near his mother, but there are always...hangers-on lingering outside, waiting to catch a glimpse of the Mahdi. Those people have learned by now that she won't hesitate to draw a knife on them if they come around here.

His gaze flicks up when she asks the question. But he doesn't ask where she heard about it, or why she's curious now.

"It's a Bene Gesserit skill," he says, eyes focused on the rip in his stillsuit he is mending. "A way to control people. Make them do what you want."

"So your mother can do it?"

"Yeah. She's a master at it."

"Is that what...all this is?" She gestures vaguely around her, to the corridors where increasing numbers of people keep wanting to bow to him.

"No." He gives a rueful smile. "That's just good old-fashioned propaganda. The Voice doesn't work on large groups of people. It's individual. Everyone has a specific pitch that reaches them."

He seems to know a lot about it. "Can you do it?" she asks.

For a moment he doesn't answer. Then he says, "Yes. Sometimes."

"Let's see it, then."

"What?" He looks up sharply this time.

"Go on, I'm curious," she says, leaning back on her hands. "Voice me."

"No." He has that little half-smile on his face, the one he gets when he's nervous or embarrassed about something.

"Why not?" she asks, because now that he's refused so flatly she is curious. He is usually so eager to share, to teach and learn. She's not sure why this is different.

"You'll hate it," he says, and now she has to make him do it, because she'll decide that for herself, thank you very much.

She goes straight for the argument she knows will convince him. "If it's a weapon, I should know how it works. Right?"

After a minute he sighs and says, "Yeah. All right."

He sets his stillsuit and the patch kit aside. Sits with his hands on his knees for a long moment, watching her with an unreadable expression. She holds his gaze, because she's used to other people finding him a little uncanny by now, but he's always seemed like just a person to her.

The longer she watches him, though, the more it feels like there's a charge building in the air around them, like the crackling feeling on the wind that tells you a sandstorm is coming before you can see it.

"I'm going to tell you to stand up," he says, his voice quiet and even.

"Okay. Can I resist?"

He shrugs a shoulder. "You can try." He exhales a long breath and lets his eyes drift closed.

She's ready to be indignant about that, but then he opens his eyes and says, "Stand."

His voice is hardly louder than a quiet conversation, but it reaches into her like a physical force. Her muscles simply move without her input. She is on her feet before the thought of resistance occurs to her.

The jarring feeling of foreign control is gone as instantly as it arose. She stares down at him, and the surge of sick horror in her gut must show on her face, because he winces.

"I told you," he says. He shifts uncomfortably, pulling his knees up to his chest, turning his face away.

Her heart is pounding, adrenaline flooding her bloodstream, like her body knows something hostile has been done to it. She forces herself to take deep, calming breaths. There is no danger here, just Usul sitting on the floor looking miserable next to her.

She makes herself sit back down, landing heavily on the low step up to the bed platform behind them.

"Have you been able to do that this whole time?"

"Kind of." He's still not looking at her. "It doesn't always work for me. It takes years of study to learn to use it the way my mother can, at any time on anyone."

She shivers at the thought.

"It was easier with you because I know you." His voice is low and guilty. "I knew the right pitch."

"How?"

He shrugs. "I can't really explain it, I just knew."

She realizes now that his hesitance hadn't been secrecy or false modesty, but fear.

She gets up off the ledge and moves over to sit down next to him, her shoulder bumping against his.

He turns toward her suddenly. "You know I would never...for real--"

"I know," she says. He's still searching her face urgently for reassurance. "I know that," she says again.

His hair has fallen in his face. She tucks an errant curl behind his ear. "I know you would never hurt me," she says. Even though, for the first time, she's convinced that he could.

[starflungwaddledee]

>> start the adventure! << || [masterpost] ||

while starstruck makes her merry way to the @kirbyoctournament, why not keep her company with some questions?

for the next month, as propaganda for the tourney, dream land's favourite little anxious amnesiac will be taking asks directly!

couple of little notes, suggestions, and rules!

though this is hopefully obvious, i don't guarantee i'll get to every ask or interaction! i'll do the best i can, but if i don't make it to yours, it's nothing personal! where possible these will be answered "in character" from tourney!starstruck, though you can still ask me tournament related things too! this is my first time trying "in character" asks, but i want to make one thing really clear: please no text rp. makes me incredibly uncomfortable. for plot consistency, this is set during her Present Timeline, and she knows as much about her own backstory as the average reader. has no idea who This Guy is. she has similarly not yet encountered the star spears or any weapon like them. questions can come from ocs, especially if they're in the tournament! i may not draw your oc in the response though. i probably won't respond to any "how are you" generic type deals because those will get hard to answer pretty much immediately. i am hoping to find some fun personality combos to riff off, so if you have an interesting interaction idea for our ocs, feel free to share! starstruck is Technically Romancable and OCs who are at least 25+ are totally welcome to make an attempt to flirt with her (pspsps evil lesbians especially if you're out there come say hi. any and all wings havers also), but remember she is dense as a pile of bricks. also please no nsfw.

[starhvney]

pspspsps...... one day you should do.... travis fluff alphabet...

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mystreet travis x fem!reader

𝐂𝐖: none

𝐀/𝐍: pspsps...okay..pspsp

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, how does he show his affection?

if you ever get a video of him when you two are alone, he’s getting absolutely cooked alive in the group chat. he wants to act so suave and smooth, but he’s actually a huge baby. he wants to melt right into your arms and cuddle with you at all times. even if the two of you are out together he’s thinking about cuddling with you. 

𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘, what does he find the most beautiful about you?

…does it need to be said? he finds everything about you beautiful, but he can’t not appreciate your curves. he loves them, whether you’re extra curvy or pretty skinny, he’s obsessed. he’s the type to whistle when you wear something that compliments your figure, hyping you up and having you do a lil spin for him to show off the whole outfit.

𝐂𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒, how cuddly is he? how does he cuddle with you?

when is this handsy mf not trying to cuddle with you is the real question that we need to be addressing. when the two of you get home he immediately scoops you up and throws you on the couch or bed to be cuddled for at least one hour(mandatory). he usually has you lay on top of him and rubs your back or holds onto your waist. 

𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂, what is domestic life like with him?

he is a man who whips right into shape when living with you, upholding his side of the chores, keeping everything generally pretty neat, and not dumping all the housework on you. but, he’s still a man, and something about living with you and seeing you so domestic and casual with him makes him… feral. i’ll let you assume what you want from that information.

𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, how vulnerable with his emotions is he with you?

he’s not really afraid of talking about how he feels, even with friends. he doesn’t air out all of his issues and deepest insecurities with just anyone, but he’s generally an open book, especially with you. if he trusts you he has no problem expressing himself with you.

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘, does he want a family with you in the future?

yes, he loves kids! his dream in life was always to get married, start a family, and be a dad. it took him a lot of maturing, for sure. he isn’t ready for it just yet, but it’s still a dream of his for the future. he doesn’t want many kids, but his ideal number is two. he was an only child, and always wished he had a sibling, so two sounds like the perfect number in his mind.

𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐒, is he a gift giver? what kind of gifts does he give to you?

he’s super big on gift-giving! if he sees something he thinks you’ll like or just finds a fun little trinket then he brings it back to you. you had to start scolding him to stop spending so much money on you—not that it’s going to stop him.

𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐒, what is hugging him like?

he really likes to wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on top of you. he does this all the time, whether he’s hugging you normally it from behind. something about the way he tugs you to him almost feels possessive in a way, but you can’t place what about his hold makes you feel that way, so you haven’t brought it up yet.

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒, what is he insecure about in your relationship?

he’s more insecure about himself rather than your relationship. he overcompensates self-doubt with humor and faux confidence, but sometimes he really doesn’t understand why you chose him. the good thing is he doesn’t hide this aspect of himself from you, and he’ll bring it up when it’s a good time and he’s feeling particularly down. he also expects you to feel comfortable and trust him enough to do the same.

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘, how jealous does he get?

he can get pretty jealous, but he doesn’t handle it like you’d expect him to. he goes almost scarily quiet, jaw and fists clenching. if looks could kill whoever is flirting with you??? in front of him??? would be six feet under within seconds. if you bring it up this is one thing he doesn’t talk about with you, because he knows getting so angry about it isn’t a good thing, and he hates that he does. he usually just grips your waist super tight and keeps you close to him until he cools down.

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆, what is kissing him like?

he gives you a lot of kisses on the cheek and forehead, because if he’s kissing you on the lips it’s either all or nothing. he really just can’t control himself when he’s kissing you–he’s tried being casual about it but it always evolves into a makeout session right then and there.

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, who said “i love you” first?

he was internally hella nervous about it, but he somehow managed to smoothly insert it into a conversation without flinching or acting like he said anything out of the ordinary. but he was paying close attention to how you react. if you ignored it or didn’t hear it at first he’d be sad and pout about it, but if you noticed it and reacted positively he’d try to play it cool, but he’d be all smiley and giggly after.

𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐓, who gets shy or weak in the knees more?

while he is known for an annoyingly confident and flirtatious attitude, he’s still that shy and genuine boy deep down. he only really started acting the way he did because he was influenced by people he looked up to at a young age, including his dad and the friends he chose. all it takes from you is genuine care and love and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. he’s practically putty in your hands.

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄, does he use any pet names for you?

babe, baby, hun, honey, sweetie, sweetheart, love, the list goes on. if it’s a cute pet name that exists he’s using it on you. you started questioning if he even remembers your real name anymore because he hasn’t called you by it since you started dating.

𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐒, what are some issues you have in your relationship? how does he handle it?

old habits die hard, as they say, and for someone who made his whole personality to be flirtatious it’s a hard one to break. he most definitely never intentionally flirts with other girls, and he isn’t interested in them either. sometimes he just acts that way because he’s used to it. when he started dating you, and even before that when he realized he had serious feelings for you, you noticed he cut down on any kind of flirtyness with anyone.

𝐏𝐃𝐀, how does he express his love in public?

he’s really into handholding more than anything. let’s not lie to ourselves though, he’s handsy. you think you’re safe and all of a sudden he’s sneakily sliding his hand down to grab a whole handful of ass like you’re not in the middle of a crowd. he’s gotten used to getting a quick slap to the arm or chest and respects the warning if you’re serious about it.

𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, how do you spend your time together?

he’s a classic date lover. at least two times a week he likes to do something with you. restaurant dates, theatres, cafes, thrift shops, bookstores, picnics. he has a bucket list of date ideas in his phone notes that he wants to do with you.

𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆, what are his plans for the future?

you’re his end game, so he is dating you with the intention to eventually get married. sometimes he gets impatient thinking about it and has most definitely planned out the whole wedding in his head already, but he is also completely fine with taking things slow. 

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒, how open is he? does he keep anything from you?

he really doesn’t keep many secrets from you, if any at all. like his emotions, he’s pretty open with you about everything, so if there’s any secrets kept from you it’s probably because he didn’t even know it either. 

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, how long did it take for you two to get together?

it took however long you needed to like him back. he’s playing the long game. bro definitely had a crush on you for years. you two had a flirty and joking dynamic for the longest time and you thought it was a joke… until it wasn’t a joke anymore. 

𝐔𝐏𝐒𝐄𝐓, what makes him upset?

it’s expected, as someone who generally presents themselves as unserious, to not be taken seriously. he’s usually pretty okay with this most of the time, but he gets upset if you don’t take him seriously. it’s different for you. if the two of you are in a relationship, then he expects you to take him just as seriously as you expect him to. 

𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘, does he do anything to spice up your relationship?

he’s really into music and videogames and loves finding new things with you. he gets so excited if he finds a new multiplayer game that the both of you can play, or if an artist you both discovered together drops a new album. if it’s a new singleplayer game that you both really like, he’s fine with one of you watching the other play, too.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒, how good is he at communicating?

he’s really good at communicating and surprisingly really good at having mature adult discussions, too. he’s pretty serious about you, so while he can be a bit of a jokester he can get serious when the situation calls for it. 

𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀, something random 

this freaking goofball. somehow he always manages to have some sort of new corny pickup line or joke up his sleeve. he loves making you laugh, even if it’s at him, so anytime you’re upset or feeling down, he’s pulling out all the silliness from his pockets.

𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆, what are they like when you’re gone?

travis, at his core, is a drama queen. you bet he’s trapped your legs in a hug as he fake sobs before you even get a chance to leave him in the first place. once you are apart from him, he can manage on his own fine, but he likes to keep in touch with you either by text or a quick call throughout the day no matter how far away you are or for how long.

𝐙𝐙𝐙..., how do you two sleep? when you’re apart?

unless you’re a chronic cuddler, he is SO annoying. wraps each limb around yours and traps you in bed with him like you’re a fly in his spider web. you bet the sheets are getting all tangled and messed up by the morning, too. if you shove him off you get maybe five seconds max before he’s glued to you again. he gets genuinely mad if you push him away even though he’s dead asleep, too. he’ll be pouting and huffing and sometimes he’ll even say “no” in his sleep if you test him enough. he likes to make a big fuss and complain when you’re gone but the truth is he also sleeps like a baby even if you’re not there. he still likes to claim that the quality of sleep just isn’t the same without you.

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[tobys-walrus-crew]

Attention Pirates! Calling all hands on deck!

Next year in January it's gonna be 10 years since our favorite show set sail! Let's do something awesome!

We're making a fanbook and we want everyone to join! If you're interested, if you paint, draw, play, do cosplay, make ikebanas out of coffee grounds, chase sharks across the oceans or train walruses, join us! If you do none of those things, join us anyway! We welcome everyone who wants to express their love for Black Sails in a creative, visual way!

The brief rundown is up there ^^^ and the full version is in this pdf on our little google island:

If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask!

- The Walrus Crew

Pspsps... reblog it please, so it can reach as many people as it can!

[Image ID: information about the event written out on the backdrop of a seascape that looks like sunset. The text says: Fellow pirates and fans of Black Sails! On January 25th 2024 we will all be celebrating 10 years since our favorite show premiered. Because of this, we would like to invite you all to create a fanart book with us! "Know no shame!" We all remember Meditations and how the title page dedication from Thomas broke and empowered us... How about we create our own dedications to the show? The rules are simple: create a dedication page to Black Sails - paint, draw, write, or take a photo! Are you a cosplayer and want to participate? Amazing, pose! Do you sketch cartoonish characters? We love them! Are you a writer? Fabulous! Join us! Are you a fan and just want to say thank you, yes, please! It's your piece of paper! We will make the fanbook available in PDF form for the enjoyment of all! And maybe print it out for the creators of the show. The format is A4 (a page per participant), and the deadline is December 24t!. You can submit your works to 10bsfest@gmail.com If you have any questions, we'll be happy to answer them (or help you out in case of trouble). #BlackSals #10YearsBlackSails / End ID]

[moonsofmachinery]

Welcome!

I'm long overdue for a pinned post, but I'll keep this short...

Hi. I'm Moons of Machinery, but I go by Moons or Mac. He/Him, I'm vaguely a guy, this is my rainworld blog, and maybe sometimes other hyperfixations.

So, What can you do with my art?

I completely accept using my art as pfps or using it in edits As Long as Clear and Direct Credit is Given. No 'Credit to the artist' is not acceptable, list my username!!!!

I DO NOT accept the reposting or selling of my art. Full stop!

I will accept commissions in the future, but I'm still figuring out the details. I'll probably update this when I open my commissions or something.

Ok cool thats all I need to write here bye!!!!!!

pspsps my main ocs here are Chicken And Rice Burrito and Fuckface

Chicken And Rice Burrito (AKA 'Carb') has lore I list on his toyhouse Fuckface is pretty much loreless and is essentially my sona!

If you want to read more about my other ocs . uhhhhh toyhouse. Most of my ocs stories aren't quite fleshed out and are rather clips of what I find interesting or are slowly being strung together.

Java and Ombro are the only ones with their own true stories but Ombro isn't quite all drawn yet and Java's pretty simple. I also have my Planetorators (Planets + iterators. I like astrology!) and... Microsis (microbiology + iterators. I like immunology!!) I guess? But Microsis is reallyyyyy surface level. I do have a good bit for Planetorators though!

Anyways, all this rambling is to say that if you have questions about my characters I would be oh so charmed to answer them. Genuinely, I love yapping and I post about my characters quite a bit en mass. So, if you're curious, shoot me an ask! I'd be so happy to see it :]

[emchante]

OK so first I had a crazy obsession for the ghost!max written by Di but now you got me obsessed with the stalker!carlos like please I need more of it for my health please !!!!

(I never liked stalkers but for Carlos I can do an exception because come on just look at him 🤭🫠…)

ghost!max is like?? SO GOOD??? how could you NOT be obsessed with it… but i’m SO GLAD to have you hooked on stalker!carlos!! if you have any questions/thoughts/scenarios ect about him.. send them my way<3

@thef1diary pspsps ghost!max enjoyer!! 🫵

[thehypnone]

Christmas Ghouls 5/10

WC: 1095

Relationship: Dewdrop & Rain

Tags: Fluff, gift giving

Notes: For Kirst <3

Read under the cut or on AO3.

This year Rain and Dewdrop had a different plan for the Chrsistmas gift giving. There wouldn’t be any surprise presents. What they’d do was something they talked about and have been considering for months.

Dewdrop was Rain’s, and Rain was Dewdrop’s, in so many ways. They were connected, bonded on deepest possible levels, their souls and hearts tied together with Lucifer-forged chains. They have been wearing each other’s marks for ages, always eager to renew the old ones and add some more. But there was something that, even after all this time, still seemed like a big step for them, in case of their relationship.

It was a mix of human and ghoulish tradition—exchanging rings and melding them onto each other’s horns to wear forever.

They picked simple designs, not very ornate. They’d both be silver, Rain’s with pieces of carnelian stone (pspsps), and Dewdrop’s with azurite (look here). Simple, but carrying great meaning, sentiment and symbolism.

Both ghouls were extremely nervous, worried that the other would decide it was too much and quit at the very last moment. Of course, neither would even consider that, but their insecurities, doubts and fears were always there.

They decided to do it the night before their whole pack would have their annual Christmas dinner. They’d show up with the rings on like a surprise, having not told the rest about their plan.

“Gonna be all wifed up now,” Dewdrop said, turning Rain’s ring over in his hand. He was smiling, but his eyes betrayed the anxiety.

“It's you who's the wife in this relationship,” the water ghoul scoffed and winked from where he was sitting on his desk, legs kicking.

“Oh no,” his mate protested, “you're way more wife coded.”

“Wife coded?” Rain snorted, raising his eyebrows. He paused the fidgeting of his hands as Dewdrop came closer, stepping in between the other’s legs. “Where did you even get that from?”

“Twitter. And they agree over there.”

“With what?”

“You being wife coded.” He wrapped his arms around Rain’s waist loosely, looking up at him. “A bunch of people also want to get you pregnant.”

“WHAT!?” the water ghoul giggled, and if Dewdrop could tattoo the image of him laughing and smiling from up close on his brain, he would.

“Yeah.” Dewdrop shrugged. “Well, if anything you'd be the one getting me pregnant but let them have their fun, right?”

“Dew!? Oh god,” he brought a hand up to cover his eyes and shook his head. Dewdrop continued to giggle quietly, his shoulders shaking. “Wait, hold up, though. If I'm the wife then you're what, the husband? No, if I'm a wife you are, too.”

“Great, and now we're lesbians,” the fire ghoul deadpanned, but bursted into a full body laugh after not more than three seconds. Rain followed a heartbeat after and they ended up laughing like maniacs, Dewdrop falling forward with his head against his mate’s chest.

After a while they managed to calm down. The laugh made the earlier tension dissipate, and both ghouls silently thanked the other for being so… silly. They were just silly.

“Anyway,” Dewdrop was the one to break the silence. “Do we… do this?”

“Yeah,” Rain sighed. “Yeah, we do.”

The water ghoul picked up Dewdrop’s ring again, from where it was laying next to him on the desk. He looked it over, examining, one more time and lifted his hand, eyebrows furrowing in an unspoken question. His mate nodded with a reassuring smile painted on his face, and Rain—his hands were absolutely not shaking—dropped the ring over Dewdrop’s left horn. It slid down to around the half of its length and Rain smoothed a thumb over it, pressing down on it just a bit to make it settle securely.

“Pretty,” he mumbled.

Dewdrop lifted his own hand to touch it, grinning when his fingers met Rain’s. “Your turn, wifey.”

Rain couldn’t hide the deep blush that creeped up his cheeks at the word. Maybe he did like that. Just a bit.

The fire ghoul winked, noticing that, but his own face wasn’t any better—he was equally flushed. Dewdrop took the other ring and reached up to slide it down Rain’s horn, mirroring his mate’s earlier action of thumbing over it and nestling it down.

“Okay, uhm…” he cleared his throat, “you should at least check in the mirror if you like it before I make it… well, permanent.”

Rain chuckled, more than sure, but he knew him looking it over first would reassure his mate. Pressing a quick kiss to Dewdrop’s forehead, he hopped off the desk and padded over to the mirror on his wardrobe. The fire ghoul joined him, and both their smiles grew impossibly wider at the visual.

“They’re perfect,” Rain whispered, eyes shining with tears and affection for his little mate.

Silence fell for a few short moments, but then Dewdrop grunted, “Ugh.”

“What?”

“I just got an extremely sappy thought,” he giggled, making Rain scoff, but laugh too.

“You’re impossible.” He smacked his arm playfully.

“Oh, well. Do you wanna…” Dewdrop waved a hand over his horns, “you know? Before I chicken out.”

“No way I just heard you imply you might chicken out,” the water ghoul grabbed his heart dramatically. His mate just rolled his eyes. “The almighty Dewdrop?”

“Oh, shut up already,” he spat, but didn’t have time for further light-hearted insults when Rain suddenly dropped to his knees before him, making Dewdrop gasp.

“Do it, baby.” He took his hand and pressed his cold lips to it, before guiding it to his ringed horn. Dewdrop swallowed heavily, calling upon his infernal power.

The rings were made of silver, but the inside was lined with metal of a lower melting temperature. That way, when Dewdrop would heat it up, it’d melt just enough to fill the cracks in the ghoul horns’ rough texture and make it hold.

“Are you–” he wanted to ask for clarification one more time, but Rain didn’t let him.

“I love you, Dewdrop,” he told him, for the millionth time. Taking a deep breath, the fire ghoul closed his fist around his horn and just did it. Just like that, a few seconds and it was done.

“I love you, Rainy,” he mumbled, pulling his hand away to repeat the process on his own ring. “Merry Christmas.”

Before Rain even stood up, Dewdrop’s part was done, too. 

“Merry Christmas,” the water ghoul laughed, dragging his mate into a deep kiss. “What about we make it a real wedding night now, Droplet?”

“Take me to bed then,” he purred. “Wifey.”

[buthowboutno]

totally not late 15k hits post

hmm? what’s that? we hit 15k hits on ATWLP?? like, yesterday, right? mhmm? yes?

We’re just gonna totally gloss over how I’ve left y’all on a cliffhanger for the past two weeks but uhhh HERE’S SOME CONTENT PSPSPS I PROMISE THE NEXT CHAPTER IS COMING OUT AS SOON AS POSSIBLE (my gf was visiting, i was too busy fawning over her to type xoxo.)

I would just like to say again that my readers are so fucking insane and talented and you guys have really been SUCH a huge support for every step of the way. It only took like three chapters to gain 5k hits!!! That’s absolutely /wild/. 

So anyways, to the stinkies that have been here since the beginning and the ones that have joined us recently, i love y’all so so much and here’s to the second half of this truly monstrous fic.

Beneath the cut: Donnie’s POV from the end of Chapter 15.

QuarkedUp: not dogging on the newbies but she may or may not have caused us to have to redo our entire experiment

BootyShaker9000: You? Not being outright facetious to someone?

BootyShaker9000: Who are you and what have you done with the short nerd?

BootyShaker9000: Follow up question, will you keep them forever?

QuarkedUp: I hate you

Donnie snorted at your text as it popped up on the screen. He caught May smirking at him through the corner of his eye while he typed a response.

“What, am I not entertaining enough company?” she asked, taking a sip of her cocoa and keeping eye contact with Donnie over the rim of her mug. May had pointedly left the matching set alone for you and Donnie.

Donnie had appreciated that with words he couldn’t begin to form yet.

“I fear there’s no way to answer this without getting on someone’s bad side,” Donnie said.

May snorted, setting her mug down and reaching for the tupperware Donnie had brought over. Mikey had made more lavender sugar cookies that he insisted that Donnie take over to you that night, nevermind the fact that you were coming over later tomorrow.

Donnie might have… left out that detail when Mikey had asked him.

“Ah, well, don’t let me get in between you and your partner,” May teased. She bit into a cookie and hummed appreciatively.

Donnie’s cheeks felt warm as he began typing again. He would never get used to May calling you his partner. Between her and Splinter, Donnie’s mind had been rife with intrusive thoughts about you.

Thoughts about grabbing your hand with his when you placed it on his knee, about sticking his face in his hoodies when you finally returned them.

Thoughts about…

Nope! Lock it down, Donatello.

BootyShaker9000: You do not.

BootyShaker9000: Would you like me to make you something to drink?

QuarkedUp: oh yes pl

BootyShaker9000: Have we reached the point in society where we just aren’t finishing words anymore?

BootyShaker9000: May and I just finished off the last of the hot cocoa, but I can make you a green tea?

Donnie got up from his beanbag and walked over to the little area where the kettle was set up, flicking it on and searching through the little drawers for the tea you liked.

“I’m so glad the two of you use the mugs I bought,” May said as Donnie pulled out the matching pair to his mug. Donnie gave May a soft smile before turning back around to retrieve the honey.

“We use them every time I come over. I think their excessive abuse of caffeine is the last thing keeping your roomie tethered to reality, if I’m being honest,” Donnie said. Not that he, admittedly, was much better. You had forced him to start limiting his Redbull intake to just two cans a day if you couldn’t have your third or fourth cup of coffee.

‘Turnabout’s fair play,’ as you had told him.

‘I’m an engineered weapon of war,’ Donnie said back, ‘I can handle a little caffeine.’

How rude of you to care about his well-being.

May cackled, reaching into the tupperware for another cookie, “That’s what they get for being an engineer. Us art majors just go insane in the poetic way.”

Donnie huffed a laugh through his nose, “How very Plath of you.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” May said. Donnie walked back over to retrieve his mug and took a long sip while he opened up his chat with you.

No new messages.

Weird.

BootyShaker9000: Sweetums?

“Has your roommate texted you in the last five minutes?” Donnie asked, setting his mug back down and tapping at his tech gauntlet to check your location.

“You’re… really overprotective, aren’t you?” May asked, but pulled out her phone all the same. With a few swipes she looked back up at Donnie, “Nothing since this morning.”

“Some might say I’m paranoid within reason,” Donnie said, focusing his full attention to his tech gauntlet. He tapped on your icon showing your location and pulled up your health stats. Heart rate slightly elevated, but nothing else too concerning, “My concern is backed up with years of empirical data and, for lack of better words, gut feeling.”

“I can refer you to some resources on campus for your anxiety, you know,” May said. She looked concerned, but Donnie just waved her off.

“Still not a student, but thank you.”

Donnie’s gauntlet started beeping obnoxiously, startling both of them. Donnie’s heart stopped when he saw the familiar notification on the screen.

“Something happened,” Donnie said, engaging his jetpack and taking off immediately through the open window. He didn’t wait a second to give May any explanation. How could he? How could he waste any second that should be spent making sure that you were okay?

He hovered above your last known location, finding nothing but the faint scent of your body wash and acetone that you had undoubtedly spilled earlier in your lab. Donnie dropped down to the ground and tried to trace where your smell was coming from. His eyes locked on his your hoodie that was folded neatly and placed on the edge of the sidewalk.

Donnie practically fell to his knees as he grabbed it. Your phone fell out of the front pocket as he did so with a note taped to the screen. Donnie’s hands shook as he picked it up off of the ground, thumbing the piece of paper open so he could read the messy scrawl.

Othello Von Ryan,

For old time’s sake, I’ll be frank. We have your partner and you have significant funds. There doesn’t need to be any hassle tonight, just so long as you follow every instruction.

Load $20,000 worth of Bitcoin onto a USB and go to the address sent to your phone. Bring no one. Leave your weapons behind. If you try anything, we will not hesitate to cut our losses and move on.

Consider our graciousness for your years of theft to be a gift for the happy couple.

–Purple Dragons

Donnie felt a eerie calm wash over him. It was like he had retreated into the back of his own skull, only merciless logic and cold fury guiding his next actions.

He pocketed your phone and rose from the ground with the hoodie in hand. He ran his thumb over the soft fabric, his mind completely focused while he pressed call on his phone.

“Leo? I’m going to need you to listen very carefully.”

[staycalmandhugaclone]

This blog is NSFW, strictly +18yrs. I dive headfirst into trauma and gore and angst, so please consider this carefully and pay attention to warnings before reading any of my works.

Thus far, I write for Star Wars pretty exclusively, particularly The Bad Batch. I'm only just beginning to actually write things with the intent of sharing them, but requests and comments are always welcome, and all my love to rebloggers!

If there is a trigger warning that you are concerned about but want to enjoy the story, please please please reach out! In many instances I can alter snip-its or tone things down, or at least highlight the sections in question so you can avoid them (I could do a vague summary for continuity).

Doc's Misadventures - Inspired by the prompts of Febuwhump2023, a female medic referred to as 'Doc' deals with the initial challenge of finding her place among the reluctant members of the Bad Batch. Wrought with unending struggles and both mental and physical disaster, a mutual tolerance slowly develops into acceptance and respect, and maybe something more...

OMG THERE BE FANART?! - I will absolutely add each and every bit of Doc fanart yall make to this little list, and I will love and treasure them and and you until I die!

Asks - Have a special request? Lemme know and I'll try to write you up something special to add to this lovely collection (a collection of 1 so far, but that will hopefully grow) - pspsps: my clone adoration is not limited to tbb! I'm happy to write with the others, too!

400 Follower Celebration Asks - Your OCs with various clones in various situations!

Spicy Stuff - 18+ nsfw independent fics with the boys from The Bad Batch. Minors: DNI. Everyone else: enjoy.

My Shame - WIPs that I just couldn't find the gumption to finish...

My Bingo Card - This is really for my personal reference, but can still be used to inspire Asks/Requests!

Unhinged Asks! - Collection of random asks that I've answered, both spicy and not

Prompt Lists - Choose a prompt, some characters, and whatever details yuh like, and slap that all in an Ask. We'll see what happens

I Ranted and Don't Know Where Else to Stash It - Might add more rants/ random headcanons later, maybe? This one's about the reoccurring theme of characters not allowing themselves to admit their mistakes so they double down instead

Click here or message me if you'd like to be added to a taglist!

[reverieafk]

Why not Paimon headcanons

(FYI! I'll be using he/him for Traveller here, since I choose him as the mc, and imo it fits better, if you don't agree with this, I respect that! ^^)

So right off the bat, Paimon isn't human. I mean duh, I think we all knew that, but I think she might be some fallen archon, a seelie or mayybbeee one of the moon sisters. I'm leaning towards the Seelie theory, since she's the 'best travel guide in Teyvet!' and likes treasure....Hmmm

I feel like the Traveller knows this. He just doesn't question it. My fav trope is adventurer/traveller who has one goal and the child he found along the way. Paimon's just Paimon to him, just his best friend who's also his child Like ''Yeah this is my best friend, Paimon, no she's not human, moving on-''

She's like 6 or 7 maybe. she's still in her 'Learning about the world' stage of childhood, I think.

Also! I think Paimon doesn't walk just because traveller complains about it a lot. She's a guide after all, why should she walk? Although, she does state that floating makes her tried, so I hc that's why she eats a lot.

Lots of nervous tics. The canon one I can see are messing around with her hands, but Paimon just gives off nail biter vibes when she gets upset or stressed out.

Also fight me on this, Traveller and Paimon give each other little nicknames. Traveller calls her 'Pai' sometimes in those little quiet moments they have, Paimon ONLY ever calls Traveller by his real name if they're both alone.

Touch starved Travvler......ohmygoddddd.....Paimon 100% braids his hair in the mornings, she holds his hand when they go into a domain, he gives her little hugs and head pats sometimes. Also. Take not how in the 'Road not taken' short, they shared a bed in the inn (?) they were staying at. I know Traveller was awake but...Cuddles. Please just. Them cuddling. Paimon comforting Traveller as he wakes up from a nightmare about his sister, Traveller playing with Paimon's hair when she cries and asks if he'll ever leave her because archons, she doesn't wanna be alone again don't leave her please-

Also, Traveller always gives Paimon more food. It makes her insanely happy.

Paimon's hair is so....fluffy....just poofy and floofy. Travler randomly plays with it when he gets bored

Paimon's weapon would be a calayast or a polearm. In some beta art for the game she had a staff soooo...star themed attacks....make her playable....please...

Cannot be away from Traveller for more then two seconds or she panics (Abandonment issues Paimon speak to meeeeee)

If anyone! has Paimon hcs! or wants to hear more of mine! Tell! me! please! Inbox always open pspsps

[seeyouonsaturn]

pspsps more Prowl yapping 👉👈

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them? (give me more than one song if you wanna >:3c)

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

23. Favorite picture of this character?

24. What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

26. What's something the character has done you can't get over? Be it something funny, bad, good, serious, whatever?

ask game

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them? (give me more than one song if you wanna >:3c)

You know I wanna. I would've done so either way. My character songs are my LIFE.

First one that comes to mind is Lose You Now - Lindsey Stirling. That's just. That's our song. It's my comfort song. I came across it pretty recently during my TFA rewatch and it hit me so hard, it just felt right. Like, yeah, that's it. That's us. It's perfect. I listen to it on a constant loop and it almost feels like he's holding me. We're intertwined. He's always been a part of me, and always will be.

Next up, Saturn - Sleeping At Last. THE Prowlbird song and one of my favorite songs in general (the band is so so so good). I named my blog after this song. It's their ship song <3<3<3

Then we also have the songs from 13 year old me's playlist that I more than likely found through Prowl AMVs back in the day. I didn't speak English very well back then, but these songs have just always had the Prowl Association in my mind and nothing will ever separate them again.

Learn To Be Still - The Eagles

Illusion - VNV Nation

River Flows In You - Yiruma

Considering I mostly listened to the most edgy teen music because teenage me was Not Okay, getting into these types of songs because of Prowl was a Change. They meant so much to me. They still do. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I cannot overstate the lasting impact this motorcycle has had on my life.

I have many MANY more songs for him because I've been on this insanity trip for a long while (the Prowl playlist currently has 111 songs in it), but a lot of them have more personal connections that people that don't know me wouldn't even understand. But I could go on. By Primus I could go on.

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

Bird (jkjk) well i mean I'm not really kidding but also that's my oc I made specifically for him so that's kind of the whole point lmao

I haven't really thought a lot about this much, but Jazz is obviously way up there. I love that they are friends in every universe (you know I ship them anywhere else). They should've had more time together to just hang out and explore Earth instead of constantly being busy with all the fighting and whatnot.

Prowl is introduced as this loner who works by himself and only wound up with the team by chance, and then Jazz shows up and they not only know each other, but they're friends. It's great. I need to know how they became friends in the first place (obviously they met through Yoketron but I still want the story). Jazz is just that friend shaped, not even past Prowl stood a chance.

23. Favorite picture of this character?

You expect me to pick just one? Every moment he ever appears is my favorite picture of him. You could hand me a screenshot of literally any Prowl scene ever and I'd be like "yup that's my favorite" and it would be the truth. I saw a man so beautiful I started crying??

I'm fond of this one though. The lighting is gorgeous. You can just feel his aura in that image.

Honorable mentions, (i need him so bad)

24. What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

This question stumped me so bad, wdym I'm in other fandoms? There is only transformers on my singular brain cell. (And DC, I remember DC, but I can't think of a character there that can hold a candle to Prowl, even though my love for Superman is definitely based on the same vibes). Nobody could ever compare to him. He's also not typically the type of character I'm interested in – everyone knows I'm a villain enjoyer, possibly with a side of dilf, heavy on the trauma. Prowl is unique to me. He's special.

One I can think of is my DC oc Nyim, who's very Prowl coded, even though it was fully unintentional. I did not (or barely) think about Transformers for 13 years. Nyim was created at a time when Prowl was not at all on the mind. But he clearly influences all I do regardless. ❤️

26. What's something the character has done you can't get over? Be it something funny, bad, good, serious, whatever?

Ok technically it's every scene he's ever in. But the first one that came to mind was definitely this one, I will never get over it.

It feels so out of character. He gets one small upgrade and immediately loses his mind Prowl what is wrong with you. I need to know what was going on inside his processor. Why did he think the fake static would work. Why did he do that he's not even good at it. Why did he make a fart noise. Baby did you even try. He was off his shits the entire episode. I love him so much.

[teamcuriosity]

Announcement: Team Curiosity's Annual Book Fair and Science Conference will commence on the 15th!

When: July 15-16th

Where: Veilstone City, Sinnoh, in the Veilstone Convention Center

Hello everyone,

It is my pleasure to announce the annual Team Curiosity Book Fair and Science Conference is still on! We were worried about putting out any announcements considering recent events, but we're now confident enough to announce the event in earnest.

The event will be open to all ages and levels of knowledge. The book fair is a pay-as-you-can event. The books are all free to take, as we believe that money shouldn't be a barrier to information, but if you do wish to pay for them, we will have a tip jar set up. Though we can source the books on our own, we are also accepting donations. The books provided can be directed towards any age range, and can be fiction or nonfiction. If you would like to donate any books, contact us, and we'll make arrangements.

The science conference will be mainly targeted towards those with professional knowledge on different subjects, though all are free to attend. Scientists, tradesmen, academics, anyone with a professional level of knowledge in a specific field or topic. Experts in both science and humanities-based fields are welcome to apply as educators and hold presentations and workshops for the general audience. Contact our admin team if you want to schedule something!

Speaking of our admin team, all admins will be present and willing to answer any questions you may have about the team or their specialties. We realize that pokemon trainers are likely to challenge us as we have yet to fully shake the "team" stigma, but we do request that you not challenge Dr. Alston or my husband Theo. They take no pleasure in battling, and it's simply rude to pester someone for a battle if they don't want to participate.

It'll take place in the Veilstone Convention Center. If you're unfamiliar with where the building is, it's where the Team Galactic Headquarters used to be at the northeast corner of town.

We can't wait to see you all there,

—Professor Marianne Hazel

((pspsps hello rare OOC stuff down here

This is an open low-stakes event with some behind the scenes planning involved. If you want to get involved in the planning, I have a Discord here that's like 95% set up.

Otherwise, your OC can still attend and interact, but don't do anything that would severely alter the events put in place. No blowing up the convention center, no bringing Reshiram to the book fair, leave the Entei egg at home, refrain from hospitalizing Ryan even if he is a dick, if it's anything above "general mischief and funny" then at least ask me first

Beyond that, have fun with it! This is just going to be a very chill and casual event, and I don't really bite, so feel free to just chill out and use the fair as a backdrop for your own personal low-stakes plots.

See y'all on the 15th!))

[artificial-sleep]

Denki and Hitoshi that share an apartment and try to collect all of the stray cats nearby.

They have a system down pat: putting fresh food and water out for them every evening and trying to sweetly lure them in with "pspsps"s and light pats to slowly gain their trust.

They've been trying overtime recently to catch a particularly skiddish orange tabby. But Hitoshi  hasn't even managed to get close enough to pet it yet. But he sees its cute lil eyes from behind a bush or beneath a car and continues his relentless pursuit nonetheless.

"Did you see Pumpkin this morning?" Denki asks that night as they both settle in after their shifts. Hitoshi laughs.

"Really? You're going to the name the orange cat we found in October Pumpkin? How very original of you, baby," he teases, and Denki pouts.

"Shut up. I think it's cute!" he whines, crossing his arms in mock distress.

"Yeah, saw him lingering around the dumpster. Went under the fence before I could get close enough. I had to skip my run so I wouldn't be late," he says with a sigh. Denki looks sympathetic.

"It's starting to get colder out," Hitoshi says quietly, and Denki nods in understanding.

"It's okay, Tosh. We'll get him," he reassures with a small smile.

They continue setting food out each night and find it gone by morning, so at least they can hope Pumpkin has been fed.

But still no luck in luring her inside, bathing her, making sure she isn't sick, and is well-watered, fed, and nurtured.

After a few weeks, the entire community is in on the hunt. Hitoshi had a reputation for being the apartment complex's "crazy cat lady" even before Denki moved in and became his accomplice. Everyone sends strays his way and asks him questions about their cats and kittens since he probably has the answer. He's always eager to help.

But no one has been able to catch Pumpkin.

Days of this turn into weeks, and Hitoshi starts to lose hope.

But then one night, Hitoshi getting home a little later than usual having been tied up with a particularly challenging villian with a quirk that gave his opponents something like hives when making contact, something changes.

Hitoshi is sore, itchy all over, and tired, but that doesn't stop him from sweeping the parameter with the hope of finding Pumpkin. The cat is nowhere to be seen.

He sighs, feeling defeated as he makes it up to his doorstep.

He is taken aback when Denki squeals as the door opens, startling Hitoshi a bit, but Denki hardly notices, coursing with excitement.

"Tosh! You're home! Guess what?! I have the most amazing surprise!!" he beams, and Hitoshi can't help but smile. "You're not gonna believe it."

Hitoshi is about to say something like, 'Aww baby... What? You didn't have to do anything special" when he hears a very distinct "meow" that has him tilting his head and squinting his eyes, trying to listen closer.

That doesn't sound like any of his cats. "Who was that?" he asks Denki, confused, looking around him to see what new friend Denki had brought home.

And as soon as he sees it, Denki nearly bounces off of his feet, shaking with enthusiasm as he exclaims, "IT'S PUMPKIN! TOSHI, I GOT PUMPKIN!!" Hitoshi's mouth drops in surprise, and for a moment, he can't speak until the sweet cat meows again and an automatic "aw" falls from his lips as he drops to his knees and extends his hand to the cat.

"She's still a little stand-offish, but..." 

"She?" Hitoshi asks, looking up at Denki with watery eyes like he's just seen their daughter for the first time. Pumpkin very hesitantly bumps the tip of her nose against the ends of Hitoshi’s fingers, smelling and getting a feel for if she wants to get any closer.

And then she does, nestling her head under his hand, and Hitoshi nearly sobs. She's so darn sweet.

"Yeah, she's a girl! And she's wild for wet food. I laid some out this morning, the real fishy smelling one since Princess doesn't like that kind, and I thought maybe we could just get rid if it, and within the hour, I caught her on the porch."

Hitoshi is just beaming with joy.

Denki and Hitoshi spend the night playing with their cats, sprawled out on the floor together, watching Princess and Bonbon, their two domestic, in-door cats, swatting at toys and showing Pumpkin the ropes as she watches hesitantly.

Within a few days, Pumpkin is happily adapted, and they allow her to go in and out freely as they do most of their foster kitties once they're sure she's clean, but Pumpkin prefers to stay inside, close to her new family.

She even gets along with Princess and Bonbon and she stays plenty warm all winter long under the pumpkin-print throw blanket Denki insisted on buying for her. Oh, and she of course gets ALL the pets and tuna-flavored wet food her heart contends.

- E N D -

Bonus: Just imagine when it gets really cold out and Hitoshi lets ALL of the feral strays come in, and it's just him and Denki in a one bedroom apartment holed up with like 12 cats. 🤣 I LOVE them ugh (also Denki is responsible for naming all of their cats)

~meow~