#stellar fishing ground

[alldaynikki]

Daily Wishes for 01-27-2025

Today's daily wish for Silver Petals takes us back to the Astral Swan in the Abandoned District.

The fastest way to get to the Astral Swan is if you've already found the Stellar Fishing Ground Peak Warp Spire. Once you warp there, look towards the pond to the southeast, and you'll spot the large Astral Swan.

Take a picture of the Astral Swan in order to get your Silver Petals for the day.

While you're there, go ahead and groom the Astral Swan for an Astral Feather. You can get ONE A DAY, so make sure to come back daily to gather from the Astral Swan.

Below the peak is the Stellar Fishing Ground Pier where you can fish for Tulletail once a day, as well.

[nikovani]

Lensie and Pinny's Fairy Tales: Part 2

LOCATION: Stellar Fishing Ground

Ghost Flower by the Astral Swan

At the Stellar Fishing Ground lives a Piecey who loves the Astral Swan. Watching the Astral Swan glide by made his worries disappear. But as he gazed at the low-flying Astral Swan, he sensed its loneliness. To cheer it up, he consulted many sprites and read numerous books until he discovered that a young Wish Collector from Stoneville had once folded a giant flying paper crane that delighted the Astral Swan when it flew around it. Sadly, the Wish Collector never returned. The Piecey realized that the Astral Swan would soar when accompanied. He waited and waited but never saw the person or spirit the Astral Swan would recognize. He then grew old, maybe never to see the scene he longed for.

One day, a pink-haired stylist appeared, gently cleaning the Astral Swan's feathers. The Swan instantly took a liking to this Whimsey-filled human and invited her to fly together. Witnessing this marvel, the Piecey closed his eyes peacefully, his spirit becoming an unseen flower drifting into the sky. At last, he could forever soar alongside the Astral Swan, never lonely again.

[maximura]

So I wrote a maybe draft for a Gang AU with Ateez that I maybe will finish, if anyone is into that kind of thing. It has swearing and mentions of blood.

****

It’s a chilly Saturday night in downtown Seoul and Seonghwa can hear the muted throbbing bass from the club on the other side of the bathroom door. He can smell the sweat and smoke of too many people and feel the stickiness of spilled vodka underneath his boots. It’s disgusting but that’s why he’s here. 

The graying strip of fluorescent light above his head flickers as bugs fly head first into it. He muses over the fact that he feels the same. But he can’t go home yet, his watch tells him it’s only 11:45pm. Only three hours to go. 

The mirror is dirty, spotted with fingerprints and water and whatever else he doesn’t want to think about. Not that this was the time to contemplate hygiene. 

Seonghwa’s black Dior suit hides the blood stains but his white shirt doesn't. It takes five minutes of scrubbing to make himself presentable and not alarm other people into calling the cops because some guy is washing a bloody shirt in the bathroom of a dodgy club. But nobody asks. Maybe it’s just wine. Normal people like to think the best, it helps them sleep at night while the monsters are out running the city.

He’ll burn the shirt later. 

By the time he leaves here there will be countless amounts of DNA smeared all over this bathroom. It’ll be impossible to trace anything to anyone without implicating half the youths of Seoul. 

Seungcheol told him that once and he doesn’t forget it as he rinses off his knife in the sink. Stellar, it was called, carved in cursive across the dark wood handle and given to him after his first kill. 

With his blade and clothes as clean as he can get them, Seonghwa raises a wet hand to wipe a stray smear of blood from his cheek. He can't remember whose it is. Not that it really matters. 

He runs a hand through his hair, grimacing when it sits awkwardly for a moment before hurriedly raking the dark strands the other way. 

There’s a soft buzzing from his pocket, just three before it stops.

“You alone? Line clean?”

“Not yet.” Seonghwa replies, exiting the bathroom and making his way through the back of the club.

The person on the other end waits until the thumping bass fades away and Seonghwa steps through the door into the empty back alley. 

“You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Issue?”

"Kim's missing."

His weariness turns sharply sober and edgy. He stops breathing for a second, stomach falling to the ground without warning. 

God, he fucking hates surprises. 

There’s millions of Kims in South Korea but only one that means something. It’s the last thing he needs to hear. It’s a guarantee there will be no sleep in his future. 

“How? When?”

He almost doesn’t want to know.

"Not over the phone. Come in. Pick up the kids on the way, usual place.”

“Yeah…..alright, sure”. 

Seonghwa hangs up and strides to where his black AMG is parked next to a few bikes. He takes three deep shaky breaths, wills himself to dissociate from the feelings he’s stamped down into the ground and puts his ‘At Work’ mask back on. Revving up the growling engine, he pulls the AMG onto the highway towards Lily’s Diner, driving well above the legal limit but knowing the cops in the area have bigger fish to fry right now, he made sure of that. 

Predictably, the “Kids” are right where he thought they'd be. He can see their mouths moving from inside the Diner, an argument in full swing no doubt, and that’s even before he’s even pulled into the parking lot. Some things just never change. It’s almost nice, if he was someone who regularly indulged in the sentimental. 

The kids don’t see him so he calls the one more likely to answer. 

"Yeah?"

“I’m in the parking lot. There’s a call-in, we gotta go now.”

There’s a heavy pause on the other end. 

“How bad?”

“Worse.”

Yunho has always been quick to read people, even through the smallest twitches on their face or slightest shifts in their voice. It was a useful skill in the field but Seonghwa has never liked it being used on him. He’ll make an exception tonight if it means less bickering.

“Okay. We’ll be out.” 

They hang up and Seonghwa waits, digging around the glove box to locate some Skittles before remembering that he ate them already. 

Fuck this Long Night.

******

"So get this Seonghwa-"

“No names in the field.” He scowls. “Wait till we’re out of ear shot at least.” 

Mingi just never learns. Blessed with freakish energy and strength but cursed with recklessness and a voice that carries too loudly across any parking lot. 

“Paranoia getting to you again?” Mingi asks with a wide grin. “It’s midnight and the only dangerous people here is us."

Seonghwa regards him through the rear view mirror; sharp tense eyes meeting bright curious ones. He knows for a fact that Mingi’s job tonight was tough but looking at the blonde in the backseat now, with his hair being tousled by the night breeze, you’d mistake him for any other carefree kid on a night out.

Seonghwa is wrestled back into the present when he feels eyes boring into his face. While he’s been looking at Mingi, Yunho has been silently watching him, stealing whatever information he needs to arrive at whichever conclusion he chooses. 

It’s unnerving. 

“You two have any problems tonight?”

Work talk. Shop talk. It’s a safe topic. Seonghwa will keep it going as long as he needs to because he can feel all the questions on the tip of Yunho’s tongue. 

They both know Yunho feeds on information; possessed with a desire to know everything about everyone in every situation. He hadn’t always been like that, Seonghwa thinks regrettably. The twenty-three year old staring at him now is nothing like the scrawny insecure kid he met all those years ago on the street. 

They both also know that Seonghwa holds all the secrets and does not surrender them easily, if at all. There are some secrets that not even Seungcheol, their leader, knows. Secrets that will be buried with him when he dies. 

“No problems.” Yunho replies shortly. “It was fine.”

“No it wasn’t! I need new weapons!” Mingi protests, ignoring the silent battle of dominance playing out in front of him. 

“What’s wrong with your current lot?”

“Ugh, it jams every time it gets damp!” Mingi cries, throwing his hands in the air and nearly taking Yunho’s eyes out. “I’m going to ask Wonwoo for some new shit when we get back. He said I was his favourite and I’m going to capitalise."

Like a switch, Yunho’s stony face lights up with laughter. “What? You are definitely not his favourite. He was being sarcastic.”

Mingi pauses, hand on his chest like he’s wounded. “No, but he said it fully serious.”

Yunho rolls his eyes. “That’s just how he talks, Mingi. He tells us we’re all his favourites. That’s the joke because none of us are his favourite.”

Seonghwa snorts out a laugh. 

“So this whole time…” Mingi trails off, a look of betrayal flitting across his face. 

“Yeah, he finds you as annoying as the rest of us.” Yunho says with a chuckle, petting Mingi’s blonde hair fondly. “He hates everyone.”

“Everyone?”

“Well, almost everyone.”

There’s a beat of silence and Seonghwa lets go of some of the tension in his shoulders. It lasts approximately ten seconds before Mingi’s head suddenly pops up next to him. 

“Hey Seonghwa, I’m still your favourite though right?”

******

When they arrive at Headquarters Seonghwa punches in the new code and nods to Stanley, the security man pretending to be the Gardner, as they drive into the gated property. As far as he knows, there were no flowers that bloomed solely at night, but their neighbours were either stupid, apathetic or just as crooked as they were to ignore it all. 

Once inside, Seonghwa sends Mingi and Yunho to clean up but he makes his way up to the main office. 

“Well? You found him yet?”

Seungcheol is at his desk when Seonghwa bursts through the door, hissing a loud ‘fuck off!’ at the two guards who attempted to search him. 

Seungcheol allows it, nodding for the guards to stand down.

“Well?” Seonghwa asks again. “Do we have anything?”

“No.”

Seonghwa slumps heavily into one of the leather chairs in the room. 

Seungcheol regards him quietly and calmly. “I was going to wait till the others got here.”

“Oh fuck that, I deserve to know first.” Seonghwa spits out, knowing that, despite his own seniority, Seungcheol is still older and he’s dangerously close to stepping out of line here. 

“Hongjoong was contracted to take out Big Red tonight.”

Cold dread settles uncomfortably in Seonghwa’s stomach, with worry and anxiety gnawing at him until everything is replaced with anger. 

“He didn’t tell me that.”

“I told him not to.”

“So you sent him on a secret suicide mission by himself? Not even a team could take on Big Red right now. What the hell, Seungcheol?”

“We had intel things would be favourable.”

Seonghwa snorts derisively. “Well, him being missing doesn’t make it very fucking favourable does it?”

They’re both quiet for a moment. Seonghwa talks down his rage; not just at the fact that Hongjoong is missing but at the sheer amount of disastrous decisions being made without his knowledge.

“The intel was bad. Jongho took care of the source.”

“No shit it was bad.” Seonghwa scoffs, as if a mole dying was meant to make him feel better. “So you don’t know anything?”

Seungcheol leans forward in his chair. “There’s not much to go on: we think Red’s still on the run because nobody’s called it in yet. The entire building they were both in burnt to the ground. No survivors.”

“That’s nothing to go on.” Seonghwa mutters. “How do you even know there’s no survivors? Have you looked?”

Seungcheol’s poker face flashes with something akin to regret. It’s barely there but Seonghwa caught it. 

“What? What is it?”

“Well, it would seem that your little pal got himself some kind of fan who saw the whole thing. 

Seonghwa is dumbfounded, staring lamely at Seungcheol as he continues. 

“If he's meant to be so hard to find and kill, I don't even know how this kid managed to track him down and follow him in the first place.”

“Wait, how do you even know this? Where’s this kid now?”

“Wonwoo’s feeding him in the kitchen.”

“What? Are you serious?” Seonghwa laughs incredulously, “You brought a fucking unreliable witness back here? Are we in the witness protecting business now? Have you actually lost your mind?”

Seungcheol lets out rare weary sigh. "You want to see him?"

No, he didn't. He's had enough of kids and stupid decisions for one night. 

"Sure."

*****

The Kid looks maybe 18. It was hard to tell. Maybe the tears made him look younger but the soot and grime made him look older. 

Wonwoo nods a greeting as Seonghwa enters the kitchen and stands up to leave them alone. 

Seonghwa sits down at the table. 

"You ok, Kid?"

"Don't call me that!” 

The snap was unexpected and Seonghwa can't help but be amused. Just seen death, kidnapped by a gang and this kid still has the balls to talk back. 

“Okay, so you’re not a kid. Got it. You have a home to go to? Parents?"

The Kid shakes his head. It’s a movement and answer that trips a wire in Seonghwa’s mind. 

"Okay then. You gotta name?"

"He said no names in the field."

And Seonghwa wants to laugh at that. Typical Kim Hongjoong.

"We're not in the field now though."

“Well, I’m not stupid enough to tell you my name.” The Kid huffs defiantly, even through the dirt and tears. 

This kid. Seonghwa can see why Hongjoong might've been tempted to let him get close. 

"Okay. Different question. How did you know him?"

"I don't. I just followed him around."

"Yeah? And he let you? You know what he is right?"

"He's a killer. Just like you."

The Kid turns to look him in the eyes. They’re as sharp as the ones he’s seen in the mirror and suddenly the teenager looks both young and old at the same time. There’s a weariness, sadness, tiredness but above all, the steely silver light of determination. 

"He's not dead."

The statement punches Seonghwa right in his chest. "What?"

"I couldn't find a body. It means he's not dead."

A few years ago Seonghwa might've been more naive, might’ve been too optimistic or pessimistic based on emotions, but now, he only plays with fact and probability. And right now, those tell him that despite the whole building burning down and no gang wars erupting over Big Red’s territory: no body means no kill. Assassins survive for a reason. Especially Kim Hongjoong. 

"You looked?”

The Kid nods. "Until the cops and fire guys came"

"Did you tell this to anyone?"

"Only you."

"Why me? How do you know me?"

"He told me to find you. He told me to trust you....." The Kid pauses. Obviously debating whether to trust anyone at all. "He told me to look for the model guy with the most expensive suit. That's you isn't it?"

Seonghwa wants to laugh but his mind just reels from the information. This wasn’t just a random Kid. He clearly had some sort of relationship with Hongjoong, one that Seonghwa didn’t even know about. 

He pushes aside the feelings of betrayal and settles on processing the fact that this kid has spent enough time with Hongjoong to figure out what he might look like. It means Hongjoong has described him, in detail, to someone. Just in case something happened to him. 

This kid was the lifeline. And Seonghwa was the emergency contact.

Fucking Kim Hongjoong. 

The kid lets out a sheepish yawn and Seonghwa checks his watch: 2am. 

"You got anywhere to go? It's late."

He’s met with a non committal shrug. 

“You want me to drop you off somewhere?”

“I don’t know.”

“Someone out there is looking for you right?”

“No.”

Seonghwa just stares at him before taking in the worn out clothes, the Nike hoody that looks suspiciously like the one he got Hongjoong years ago, and the total lack of any real personal belongings near him. 

Seonghwa clears his throat uncomfortably. "Ah. Well. I'll talk to er, the others about where to...put...you."

He walks out of the room swiftly and finds Seungcheol in the main lounge room they used for most meetings. He must’ve had the strangest expression on his face because Seungcheol doesn’t even demand a status report right away. 

“What? What is it?”

“He…said he looked through the wreck of the building, after the fire was put out. He couldn't find a body. Any body. So maybe they're both alive.”

“Someone pulled them out.”

“I think so. It would explain why nobody’s claimed Hongjoong’s kill and Red’s minions aren't tearing themselves apart for a piece of the territory.”

He looks around room. The black couches in the corner now filled with the sleeping forms of the Yunho and Mingi. 

“You filled them in?”

Seungcheol nods, “Only what they needed to know: that Hongjoong’s missing.”

“Where’s Jongho?”

“He’s fine, just delayed by the ferry. Something about a storm over the ocean.”

Seonghwa nods. “The Kid. He’s a street kid. I don’t know who he belongs to, he says nobody but someone out there must be missing him. I'm not sure it was smart taking him here but he knows too much Seungcheol. He knows a whole fucking lot.”

Seungcheol rubs his temples. “That’s what I was afraid of. It’s part of the reason I took him here.”

“Part of?”

“Well, he also asked for you. By name."

They stare at each other incredulously, before simultaneously muttering, "Fucking Kim Hongjoong.” 

[kittenofdoomage]

Hot For Teacher

Summary: He never forgot the teacher that had the most impact on him.

Prompt: Dean Winchester, in class, crushing on the teacher

Pairing: Dean Winchester x older!female!teacher!reader

Word Count: 5643 words

Warnings: fluff, crushes, slight angst, some mentions of John’s stellar parenting (don’t @ me, I love him, but I can be character critical), smut (nothing underage), flashbacks, reader is approaching forty, some humor about sex in later life.

Ao3 Link

“I’m telling you, man, this isn’t our thing,” Sam dismissed, following Dean through the doors into the high school reception. His brother grunted, flashing his badge at the security guard, who directed him to the desk where a gentleman was quietly reading.

“And I’m telling you, it might be.” Dean retorted, fixing a professionally fake smile onto his face, leaning on the desk with one elbow. “Agents Townsend and Daltry, we’ve got an appointment?”

The man peered at him over his glasses, pursing his lips for a split second as he glanced at the identification Dean was holding. After a second or two, he looked down, checking the clipboard wedged underneath his arm, before he smiled back at them. “Principal Matthews is in her office, I’ll let her know you’re here.”

Dean nodded, turning to move a little further away out of earshot. “We got five kids, swearing they saw a monster.”

“Yeah, highschoolers, seniors in their final year, acting out an urban legend,” Sam replied. “We’ve got bigger fish to fry right now.”

“Yeah? Got any leads?” the older man challenged. “Because last I checked, we had bupkis to go on.”

Sam sighed, but the argument was cut short as a door opened, and a tall lady with grey hair looked at them. “Agents?”

The office they stepped into was large, decorated sparsely with modern furniture, and a large flag behind her desk read “Gellar Gators, Go, Go, Go!” with a cartoon alligator in a football helmet. As Principal Matthews took her seat, both men turned to face her, though Dean was still inspecting everything.

“I assume this is about the recent attacks,” she started, folding her hands in front of her on the desk. “I’m not sure what I can tell you that I haven’t already told the police. They took all our security camera footage and -”

“Nothing to be seen,” Dean interjected with a nod, pulling out a notepad and a pen. “We’re just following up, seeing if anyone remembered anything different. Maybe something they didn’t want to tell the police?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” the principal asked, obviously confused. “I know some of the other children were saying it was a monster, but we all know how children can be.”

“We’re just trying to make sure no one else gets hurt,” Dean continued, keeping his tone gentle. “You’re aware that there was another victim last night?”

“Danny Elderman, yes, I’ve been told,” she murmured, shaking her head sadly. “His mother said he would make a full recovery though.”

Sam dragged his hand out of his pocket, gesticulating slightly. “All the attacks took place on school grounds, Principal Matthews.”

“And the police searched the whole place,” she defended. “I can assure you, Agents, we are taking this seriously. The students have all been instructed to report anything strange and there’s a curfew in effect.”

The brothers shared a look, realizing that this wasn’t going to get them anywhere. Dean cleared his throat, stepping a little closer. “We’re gonna stick around, speak to some of the students, if that’s okay.”

Principal Matthews nodded, gesturing to the door. “Of course, anything to help.”

Turning on his heel to head for the door, Dean’s gaze caught sight of a board, showcasing the faculty members with photographs and a brief description of their position. A single face jumped out at him, and for a moment, he was seventeen again. He froze, staring at it, before Sam’s fist jammed into his back and forced him to keep going.

Once outside, he stopped entirely, spinning around to face his brother. “Did you see her?” he asked, feeling a little breathless.

Sam’s face scrunched up. “Who?”

“On the faculty board. Miss. Y/L/N -” He laughed, shaking his head. “Outta all of the schools in the country -”

“Wait a minute,” Sam mumbled, remembering the name. “The math teacher from Luther High? That Miss. Y/L/N?”

“Yeah,” Dean replied excitedly. “Wonder if she remembers me?”

Sam snorted, rolling his eyes. “She’s probably married with kids by now, Dean, it’s been nearly twenty years. It might not even be her.”

“It was.”

“Fine, say it is. What are you gonna do? Go tell her you had a crush on her when you were a kid?”

Dean pulled a face, irritated by his brother’s attitude. “Not hurting anyone if I just say hi,” he muttered bitterly, “and I didn’t say you had to come with me.”

Sam seemed glad of that, at least, and decided to leave Dean to make an ass of himself alone. The gentleman at the desk was more than happy to provide the “agent” with the classroom he needed, and as Dean strolled down the corridor towards her class, his mind began to wander back to 1996, and his three months in Dawney, Montana.

It wasn’t that he hated school, he just didn’t see the point of it, not when there were more important things in the world, like hunting. His dad had left them in this crummy mountain town while he tracked something through the forest, and Dean didn’t know how long they were going to be there. Attending high school was at least a way to pass the time, and it kept social services off their backs, as well as providing a useful tool for keeping an eye on his troublesome younger brother.

Sam was happy to be starting school again. Summer had dragged, and they’d been at loggerheads in their small rented room, with little to do to occupy the time. Luther High School wasn’t a huge campus, and it had barely four hundred students, so Dean was relieved of the pressure of trying to make friends when he didn’t want to.

The first day back, and he’d already managed to irritate the science teacher and the coach. His third period was math, and when the teacher walked in, Dean wasn’t sure she was a teacher at all. She was young, maybe a few years older than him, and she looked nervous as hell as she addressed her only senior class of thirty.

“Okay, good afternoon, everyone,” she greeted, dropping her stacks of paper onto the desk. “Hope you’re not too bored of learning after the summer break already.”

A kid in the middle raised his hand, and she pointed at him, waiting for his question. “Are you really our teacher?” he snorted. “You don’t look much older than us.”

She chuckled, tugging her blouse back down where it had ridden up. “I am definitely your teacher. Well, I’m a student intern. I’ve got a degree, I’m just working towards certification now.” Picking up a piece of chalk, she turned to the board and wrote her name out in neat cursive before turning back. “I’m Miss. Y/L/N.”

Another hand went up but this kid didn’t wait for permission. “How old are you?”

Miss. Y/L/N smiled. “Now didn’t your mama tell you it’s rude to ask a lady her age?” she chided. “If you really need to know, I’m twenty-two. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll hate me as much as if I was fifty,” she joked, picking up a sheet. “Anyway, we’re here to learn math, so why don’t you open your books to page thirty-three and we’ll crack on with some calculus. You’re gonna have to bear with me - they told me I was teaching ninth and tenth, so I wasn’t exactly prepared.”

In any other situation, Dean was sure he would have gone out of his way to make this poor woman’s life hell. He wasn’t a model student, and never had any intention of being one, but for some reason, as he watched Miss. Y/L/N fluster over her notes, apologizing repeatedly for the slightest thing, he didn’t feel the urge to be his usual irritating self. Instead, he kept his head down - when he wasn’t looking at her - and worked quietly, though he was certain he was getting every answer wrong.

The class ended, and the other students rushed to get out and onto their last lesson of the day, but as Dean went for the door, Miss. Y/L/N stopped him. He froze when she called his name, suddenly panicked that she had caught him staring, but the gentle smile on her face didn’t scream “trouble”.

“Dean,” she said softly, “sorry, I didn’t want to pick on you in front of everyone.”

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked carefully, the ever present concern of social services in the back of his mind.

“No!” she insisted, laughing lightly. “I was told you were new here, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t have trouble following. These guys can pick up where they left off last year, but sometimes high schools don’t always follow the same plan, y’know?”

“Oh, uh,” he scratched his head nervously, “I’m fine, y’know. It’s math.”

A bright smile lit up her face, and his heart did a funny fluttering thing that left him slightly breathless. “That’s great,” she enthused. “If you have any problems, feel free to come to me, okay?”

He smiled back, struggling to contain the boyish crow that wanted to burst out of him at her attention. “Sure,” he replied through gritted teeth, “thanks.”

It didn’t feel like he could get out of there quick enough. His last period was a blur, passing by him as he sat at the back, unnoticed by the graying gentleman trying to teach them about ancient Europe. Miss. Y/L/N’s smile haunted his thoughts, and he couldn’t focus on anything, even when he met Sam at the school gate.

“Dean?”

His brother’s voice snapped him out of his stupor as they walked home. “What?” he mumbled, staring over at him cluelessly.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

“You weren’t paying attention to anything I just said.”

Another shrug. “Was it important?”

Sam scowled. “No, but -”

He groaned, picking up speed a little. “C’mon, man, I’m tired.”

There was a small hope that his newfound level of infatuation with the opposite sex was only a fleeting thing, but when Miss. Y/L/N walked into class the next day wearing tight fitting pants with a red blouse, he knew it wasn’t. He’d had plenty of experience with girls his age, and though she wasn’t much older, he wasn’t sure his experience would lend him any favors.

The worst part was wanting to please her. He actually paid attention, making an effort to understand the numbers instead of half-assing it like he’d done his entire life.

Confiding in Sam after school didn’t leave him with any more hope either.

“Dean, she’s a teacher.”

“She’s a student teacher.”

“I don’t think that matters much,” his brother denied. “Besides, aren’t we supposed to stay out of trouble? Social services aren’t gonna look the other way if you seduce a teacher.”

Dean grumbled unhappily. “I’m eighteen in a few months,” he complained.

“You really think we’ll be here then?” Sam asked, sadness in his voice. “We’ll be lucky if we’re still here for Halloween, Dean.”

“Guess I have to hope Dad comes to get us soon then,” he sighed.

John didn’t come back for them soon. He checked in every week, promising it wouldn’t be long, but weeks rolled into months, and Dean’s crush grew, developing into something his teenage heart wasn’t sure what to do with. Channeling his nervous energy into actually doing his work was landing him with good grades, and two months in, he brought home his first report card that didn’t include an “F”. Of course, only Sam was there to celebrate it, but he was a little proud of himself.

Two months into their tenure at Luther High, and one Wednesday after class, Miss. Y/L/N asked him to wait after class again. This period was the last of the day, so he didn’t rush, waiting until she’d cleared everyone out.

“I wanted to catch up,” she began, leaning against her desk and bracing her weight on her hands. “See how you were getting on.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets, giving her an awkward smile. “Good, I guess,” he mumbled, the same nerves from their last chat reaching up into his throat to strangle him. He coughed lightly, shrugging. “It’s nice here.”

“Hmm,” she agreed, glancing out of the window. “It is. Not somewhere I’d wanna live forever though. What about you?” He shrugged, and she smiled gently. “I’ve read your file, Dean. Are you an army kid or -”

“My dad travels for work,” he muttered, avoiding her gaze.

“Can I ask what he does?”

He tensed, keeping his mouth shut, retreating to the safe behavior of brick walling it. Despite that instinct, there was an urge, something inside him telling him that she wouldn’t laugh at him or call child services, and it was getting harder to ignore as she eyeballed him for an answer.

She stood straight, folding her arms across her chest. “You’re a smart kid, Dean. You’ve shown that in your grades, that even with all the disruption, you’ve got a brain in there. Have you… have you considered what happens after school?”

He shrugged again. “The family business.”

“What does that mean?”

His heart thudded in his chest. “My dad, he…” Don’t do it, his father’s voice instructed sternly in his head. It never ends well. He swallowed again, trying to turn his voice to steel, to put her off like he had so many others. “He’ll be coming to get us soon. You’re wasting your time.”

“I don’t think I am,” she replied, ignoring the warning in his voice. “I don’t consider trying to help anyone to be a waste of time. And I feel like you might need some help. Even just - even just to talk to someone. Without judgment.”

An unattractive snort escaped him. “They all say that, sweetheart,” he advised her, the cockiness seeping out of him, “but that disappears when they hear what I gotta say.”

“Try me.”

The solidity of her challenge gave him pause, and he finally met her gaze, holding it for a few seconds. Even though he was significantly taller, she made him feel small, like she was seeing through him, and he shuddered, letting the guard drop.

“I can’t,” he whispered. “You’ll call some social worker. I’ve been through this before, and I’m not putting Sammy through that again.”

Miss. Y/L/N frowned, dropping her hands to her sides. “Your brother is Sammy, right?” He nodded. “I’ve had him for a couple classes. He’s a smart kid,” she paused, smiling, “just like his brother.” 

Dean watched her warily, feeling like prey on its back, belly exposed and vulnerable.

“The bonus of being a student teacher,” she continued, slowly walking to the door and closing it, “is I’m very good at missing things.” The lock clicked as she slid it into place, and she turned back to him. “Safe space, Dean. Whatever you need to get off your chest, I promise I won’t say a word to anyone.”

He stared at her, too terrified to move for a second. It wasn’t like his father was going to break the habit of a lifetime and build a life here, so telling her might not have many consequences, but then again, it was ingrained into him not to tell anyone about the family business.

Miss. Y/L/N waited, patiently, moving herself away from the door and back to her desk, giving him the space, and the exit, if he needed it.

“Do you believe in ghosts?” he finally asked softly, unwilling to meet her gaze just yet.

She shrugged. “I don’t not believe in them,” she replied. “I’ve never seen one myself.”

“And if I told you they are real? Like really real, and my dad kinda hunts them.” He rushed it out, still unable to look at her for fear of her reaction. “Other things too,” he whispered. “I’ve… I’ve seen things that… that give me nightmares.”

Her silence felt judgmental but when he eventually managed to look her in the eye, she was only staring at him with compassion. “That sounds terrifying,” she said quietly. “I can’t imagine anyone would sleep well with that knowledge.”

“Which is why I shouldn’t be telling you anything,” he growled, frustrated with himself. “Rule number one, don’t tell anyone what we do. And I went and broke it because -”

The abrupt end of his outburst made her frown. “Because?” she prompted, and he grunted, running a hand through his short hair. “Because?” she asked again, stepping closer.

“Because I like you,” he murmured, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Because you don’t look at me like I’m some kind of freak.” He turned away, embarrassed and ashamed, and ready to throw the towel in on the whole school thing.

Her hand touched his shoulder and he jumped, alert green eyes meeting hers in surprise. “I’m flattered,” she whispered, smiling gently. “And you’re not a freak. You’re a kid with a hell of a weight on his shoulders.”

It would have been lying to say he didn’t appreciate the validation. “I’m eighteen in January,” he muttered.

“Still illegal,” she chuckled. “Position of authority and all that.”

“I can assure you, I have no respect for authority,” he tried, turning on the charm, but it only made her giggle. The laughter didn’t hurt him, which was surprising, but he already knew he had no shot at her, legal or not.

“I’m not gonna pretend the thought of things being real isn’t terrifying,” she said slowly. “Obviously, I can’t relate. But I was seventeen not so long ago, and I remember how scary just regular life can be. You’re Sam's primary caregiver, right?”

“Uh-huh. When my dad’s not around, and -” He shrugged, trailing off, leaving the implication that his father wasn’t around much in the air.

“That’s a lot of responsibility at a young age. And Sam’s such a good kid, you should be proud.”

“I am.”

Miss. Y/L/N smiled, placing her hand on his shoulder again. “You’re a good person, Dean Winchester. Whatever you decide to do with your life, just don’t forget that, and I’ve got faith you’ll be okay.”

Two weeks later, Luther High School was in the rearview, and they were moving on.

She was every bit as beautiful as he remembered her. Standing outside her classroom, staring at her through the square window in the door, he felt seventeen again. Of course she’d aged, so had he, but for a woman pushing forty, she looked great.

Her class seemed focused on everything she was saying, and she seemed to be in her element at the front of the room, running through a mathematical problem on the board. Dean stepped closer, and the movement made her gaze dart to the door, her whole body freezing as she saw his face. Her lips stopped moving, eyes wide; the bell rang, saving her from her class noticing her sudden distraction, and she quickly dismissed them.

He waited outside the door until the room was empty, then stepped in, closing the door behind him. Miss. Y/L/N - he noted her name on the board, internally crowing that she was not married - smiled, folding her arms across her chest as she watched him approach.

“Dean Winchester,” she breathed. “That smart kid I always wondered about.”

“Miss. Y/L/N,” he greeted. “Best teacher I ever had. Can’t believe you recognized me.”

Her smile widened. “How could I forget a face that handsome?” she chuckled. “And it’s Y/N, please, we’re both grown ups now.” She looked him up and down, not even bothering to conceal her appreciation. “Never thought I’d see you again.”

“You’re still teaching,” he commented, looking around.

“I am. What about you?”

“Family business,” he murmured hesitantly, unsure if she’d remember. “Guess I never found another path I liked enough.”

She hummed. “Are you happy though?” she asked curiously.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “for the most part. Yeah.” His awkwardness was showing like twenty years had never passed, and he smiled, shoving one hand into his pocket. “What about you? Husband, kids?”

“Hmmm,” she mused. “Two cats and a ridiculous amount of books about monsters,” she confessed after a second or two, and he blinked at her in confusion. “Guess I couldn’t quite drop the questions after what you told me. Only reading though, I don’t ever want to meet one in person.” Her face contorted in horror. “Oh, god, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? The attacks - is it a monster?”

He pulled a face. “Not sure yet. My brother and I are looking into it -”

“Wait, your brother, Sam?”

“Yeah.”

“You weren’t kidding about family business,” she muttered.

“I take it you didn’t see or hear anything?”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I don’t stay past dark, and I only teach the juniors now. You’d be better off talking to Mr. Harrison, several of his students were involved.” A knock at the door made them both turn, and Dean waved at Sam on the other side. “Is that Sam?” she asked, sounding a little shocked. “Wow. He got tall.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, he did.” He looked back at her, a smirk on his lips. “Listen, when we’ve dealt with this,” he began slowly, “I’d really like to buy you dinner. I don’t think I gotta worry about getting you in trouble now we’re both graying adults.”

Her laughter was music to his ears, and she turned to her desk, bending to scribble her number on a scrap of paper. Dean took the opportunity to admire her ass in the tight-fitting black pants, and his cock reacted at the thought of finally getting what his teenage fantasies had been made of.

She straightened and slipped the scrap of paper into his hand, closing his fingers around it. “I’m certain we can still find plenty of trouble to get into,” she purred, the sudden seduction making him flustered as Sam knocked on the door again.

“I bet we can,” he stuttered out, backing up towards the door. “I’ll call you, Miss….” He laughed nervously as he corrected himself. “Y/N.”

It hadn’t taken more than another few hours to figure out the case was vampires, and Mr. Harrison was actually the creature in question. He’d been turned on a wild weekend and had decided to attempt sustainable feeding, using his young students as walking blood bags. Unfortunately, the light snacks weren’t enough to keep him going, and it was only by the grace of Sam and Dean’s presence that the final victim wasn’t a casualty.

Dean was nervous to call her when they were finally done hunting the vamp down and when he finally dialed the number, he was half-expecting it to be fake. She answered after four rings, and he stumbled over his words as he asked her if she was still interested in dinner. Her answer was a resounding yes, and he let her take the lead on a place and time.

“You’re going on a date?” Sam asked, disbelief in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m going on a date,” Dean snapped, buttoning up his nicest shirt, one of his newer red plaid button downs. “One, I haven’t had sex in months, and two, she’s literally my teenage fantasy.” He paused, tossing his brother a dirty look. “Three, maybe you should consider getting laid.”

Sam sneered at him, then threw himself on the bed, switching the tv on. “I guess I’ll stay here then.”

“You do that,” Dean grinned, grabbing his jacket. “Don’t wait up.”

She was waiting for him in a little Italian place downtown, and it was all he could do not to grin like an idiot when he walked in and saw her. Her smile was bright as he sat down opposite her, both of them remaining silent as the server handed them each a menu.

“Hi,” she whispered, leaning in. “You look really good.”

Dean let his gaze drop, admiring the view of her cleavage in the little black dress she’d paired with leggings. “Hi yourself,” he murmured, smirking lightly. “That’s a very distracting dress.”

“Would you have preferred I wore a pantsuit?” she teased, giggling when his cheeks turned red. “This place is great, any of their pasta is amazing.”

“You eat here often?”

She nodded, smiling at him again. “It’s my favorite place.”

He didn’t know what it had been about her all those years ago, but she was the same now, coaxing him into an easy conversation. They talked about everything from her life to snippets of his, though she avoided asking about anything too intense, and he avoided sharing anything too disturbing. It was nice for once to just be a regular person, without the need to be incredibly guarded about his secrets.

Dinner moved onto dessert, and they kept talking, flirting with each other as the restaurant emptied around them. By the time their meal was finished, Dean had begun to envision what happened after, but when it came to propositioning it, he found himself unusually nervous.

She called for the check and insisted on paying, so he didn’t argue, sitting nervously as she thanked and tipped the server. When they disappeared again, leaving them alone, she turned her attention to him, smiling almost coyly.

“I’m not gonna pretend this is anything more than what it is,” she said suddenly, keeping her voice even and quiet. “One night between two adults, who they’ll probably never see again, right?”

He sighed with a tiny laugh, leaning his arm on the table. “I’m not the type to settle down,” he replied calmly. “And this life…”

“I get it,” she whispered, taking his hand. “I’m not looking for long haul. But I wouldn’t mind making a happy memory or two.” Her lips twitched into a smile. “Besides, I don’t wanna have gotten all dressed up for nothing.”

“I can assure you,” he replied firmly, “you did not.”

She grinned. “My place is about four blocks away.”

“My car’s outside.”

His inner seventeen year old, if such a thing existed, was jumping for joy as she led him out of the restaurant. She admired his car openly, prompting him to act out just a little, showing off his baby with pride before driving them back to her apartment. The aforementioned cats were meowing loudly when they entered, and he followed her into the kitchen, shedding his jacket as she fed the whining felines.

“Sorry,” she said breathlessly, returning to him once she’d washed her hands.

He smirked, bypassing conversation as he slid his fingers along her jaw and into her hair, pulling her into a passionate kiss that made her sigh when he pulled away a few seconds later. “Wow,” he murmured, staying close, noses tip to tip. “You know how many times I dreamed about doing that?”

“Did you ever dream about being in my bedroom?” she teased, twisting her finger in the collar of his shirt.

“Actually, most of the time, I was thinking about bending you over your desk,” he grinned, sliding his other hand over her hip. “I’m guessing you don’t have one in here?”

“No,” she giggled. “Will the bed do?”

“Lead the way.”

Her shoes were abandoned by the time they reached the bedroom door, with his shoes following just inside. Pants, shirt, and dress landed in another pile, and as they hit the bed, her leggings disappeared, his t-shirt following in rapid succession. His hands were everywhere he could put them, lips kissing every patch of skin revealed unless he was preoccupied by her mouth, and she whimpered when his fingers deftly unhooked and discarded her bra.

If only seventeen-year-old him had known this would happen one day.

Finally, he broke away to catch his breath, chuckling when he noticed her breathing heavily too. “If this had been ten years ago,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

“Tell me about it,” she agreed, reaching for the drawer beside her bed, opening it and pulling out a box of condoms. He happily took one but didn’t open it, flashing a grin at her. “What?” she asked.

“You’re rushing me,” he chided softly. “I have no intention of doing anything but savoring this moment.”

Any reply she had to that disappeared as his fingers slipped under the waistband of her panties, finding her already wet. Her moan drowned out his, and she clutched his shoulder as he eased a single finger into her, thrusting it back and forth to coax more wetness out of her.

“Oh, fuck,” she whined, arching a little, hips canting toward him in an effort to get more friction. “Oh, fuck, Dean -”

“You’re so wet,” he groaned, “can’t wait to have this pussy wrapped around me.” Her fingers tightened on his shoulder as he added a second, opening her up. “But I want you to cum first.”

It was pointless trying to quiet her own noises, giving up when biting her lip didn’t cut it. Dean worked her higher and higher, watching her facial expression crumble as she reached her peak, her cries turning silent when he twisted his hand and grazed his thumb against her clit.

“I really wanna eat you out,” he murmured, lowering his voice to a rumble, and she quickly nodded, giving him the permission he was seeking. Withdrawing his hand, he left her teetering on the precipice of an orgasm as he removed her panties and slotted himself between her thighs.

His tongue was warm against her sensitive sex and she cried out again as he explored her, figuring out what made her tremble. She was drowning in a haze of arousal, unable to think about anything beyond his mouth on her cunt, and when he sank two fingers into her again, she had to fight the urge to close her thighs against the pleasure.

Dean was in heaven, working her into a frenzy with his tongue and fingers. He’d had a lot of time to think about this particular fantasy, and having her here, wet and warm and inviting, writhing underneath him, he was certain he’d peaked. He knew he would be replaying this one on repeat forever.

“Deeean,” Y/N whimpered, fingers tugging on his short hair. “Fuck, I’m so close -”

He broke away, working his fingers into her harder as she spread herself open a little more. “Don’t worry,” he growled, “just let go, baby.”

Her cries echoed off the walls when he sucked her clit into his mouth, teasing the bud and crooking his fingers inside her to find that extra sweet spot. It didn’t take long; she wailed as her pussy clenched around him, her pleasure ringing in his ears, but he didn’t stop, working her through the climax until she went limp.

He couldn’t keep the filthy smirk off of his face as he got onto his knees and retrieved the condom from where he’d dropped it. “You doing okay there, Miss. Y/L/N.”

“Don’t,” she panted with a giggle. “You’ll make it awkward when people call me that.”

“Spoilsport,” he chuckled, opening the foil packet and tugging the condom free. “You still want this?”

She pushed herself up on shaking arms. “Uh-huh.”

A few seconds later and the condom was on. He stroked himself a few times before leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss, guiding the tip of his cock through her folds until she whimpered into his mouth. Her pussy was dripping, eagerly accepting every inch as he sank inside her, drawing back a couple of times when he met resistance, but not stopping until he was buried deep.

He had to stop then, feeling how hard his heart was racing. She caught his jaw with her hand, kissing him softly, lifting her right leg to press her knee against his side, allowing him to slip a tiny bit deeper. “Dreams do come true,” he murmured, brushing his nose against hers.

“You always were hot for teacher,” she joked, and he chuckled, kissing her hard again before starting to rock against her. He didn’t rush, enjoying every thrust, relishing the way her body drew him back in, keeping him close. She didn’t seem to mind that he wasn’t in a hurry, letting him push her into an easy orgasm. His hands wandered, toying with her tits when he was going slower, grabbing her hips when he got faster, a little more urgent.

“Want you to cum again,” he growled, holding her leg in place as he fucked into her, “Wanna feel it right around my dick.”

“Uh-huh,” she managed, clinging to his neck. “Wanna feel y-you too.”

He nodded then kissed her, focusing on nothing but how good she felt in his arms, underneath, around him. So soft and wet, warm, inviting, his literal dream come true. Even if this was only one night, he knew he’d never forget her.

“Fuck,” she gasped. “Dean -”

Her whole body quivered, thighs clenching around him as her pussy tightened, and he couldn’t hold it off, reacting with his own climax. His vision swam, and he couldn’t think beyond her warmth, her taste, her moans as she came for him. She clung to him until they were both done, collapsing with him onto the bed. Breathlessly, he kissed her one last time, withdrawing reluctantly to lay beside her.

“Holy shit,” she groaned, flinging an arm over her eyes. “I’m not gonna lie… the bar was low. You obliterated it.”

Dean chuckled, folding his hands behind his head, allowing the swell of pride in his chest. “That - that was awesome,” he agreed. “A dream come true. Literally.”

Y/N yawned, reaching over to place a hand against his chest. “I hope you’re not expecting a round two.”

He grinned. “Maybe in the morning.”

Thanks for reading! Please consider reblogging, maybe even leaving a comment? 😘

[oddygaul]

Gateway

Sure, Gateway is a science fiction book about humans exploring the vastness of space in the wake of a mysterious alien civilization. More than that, though, it’s a book about the psychological trauma inflicted upon those who embark on this sort of suicidal sci-fi adventure. It’s about how scary it is to make changes in one’s life or routine, and how easy it is to get caught up in cycles. It’s about a society that’s deeply uninterested in providing the support people need to deal with these problems. And the cool thing about Gateway is, these themes aren’t delivered only through metaphor, but through relatable, grounded, character-focused storytelling.

Mind you, Gateway certainly has its share of cool sci-fi shit. The premise is essentially that humans have found a big asteroid space station full of ancient alien spacecraft, and are enthusiastically using them to explore the universe despite not even knowing what most of the buttons do. Love that – we stan inscrutable alien artifacts left behind by millenia-dead precursor races here. This cavalier attitude towards scientific discovery feels incredibly human, too: it seems absolutely insane that people would sign up to travel in a reverse-engineered deathtrap they don’t know how to fly, and yet I know this would happen in a heartbeat if we discovered something similar.

The utter lack of human knowledge about the Heechee cloaks them in a fascinating aura of mystery, and Pohl understands the less-is-more approach. The protagonists don’t stumble upon some vast Heechee secret that grants us a profound insight into their culture; Gateway ends with us knowing as little about them as we did when we started. Whenever a Gateway neophyte asks their elders a question about the Heechee, their technology, or their ships, they get the same reply every time: “If you find out, tell us”.

— “There used to be a jokey kind of book they sold at the fairs when I was a kid. It was called Everything We Know About the Heechee. It had a hundred and twenty-eight pages, and they were all blank.” —

What sets Gateway apart, though, is not these cool conceits: it’s how grounded it is. Despite how amazing and singular the Gateway station is, the incredibly pedestrian way it’s been colonized and monetized makes it instantly believable. Soon after our protagonist arrives there, we are given in-depth accounting for exactly how much each person is charged to be there every day – and while the charge for lodging and meals is expected, the fact that it costs money just to breathe there due to the oxygen tax is a ruthless surprise. Its nature as a closed-system company town is taken even further by the fact that the only entertainment present is a corporation-owned casino – even if a prospector hits it big, the system is designed to keep the money from leaving the company.

On top of this successful worldbuilding, the human element is never overlooked or brushed aside. All the characters we meet react to the danger and stress of their situation in very realistic ways – and the danger is certainly immense. Out of 2355 total launches, only 841 ships have ever successfully returned – and not all of those with their crew intact. The working folk of Gateway station are called ‘prospectors’ for a reason: unlike in our reality, where space exploration is restricted to highly trained, multidisciplinary scientific specialists, Gateway has opened interstellar exploration up to the masses. While there’s a handful of characters with more in-depth astronomical knowledge, and the ‘new fish’ go through a few cursory educational courses, it’s pretty staggering how unprepared the folks sent out on these missions are, and the fatalities reflect that. Sure, if things go according to plan, anyone can ride out a months-long trip adrift in the stellar sea. But if anything goes wrong? If the equipment malfunctions, if they encounter unusual phenomena, if they’re forced to make judgment calls and do risk evaluation on an unknown alien planet? People die. Quickly.

Faced with such a daunting situation, different folks react in different ways. Some, like the Forehand family, know the score, and are willing to take any risk to better their lot in life. I know people like this. They’re the sort of people that will make changes in their lives fearlessly: moving to a new city, jumping to a new job the moment they’re unsatisfied, not letting complacency get in their way.

Some, like our protagonist Bob Broadhead, get stuck in a cycle of indecision, too afraid of the unknown to abandon the little shred of constancy they’ve found. Despite having left everything behind to travel to Gateway and become a prospector, the likelihood of imminent death is too much for Bob to bear once he’s face-to-face with it. It’s not only relatable, but refreshing, to be honest; sci-fi / adventure protagonists that are willing to leap into danger at a moment’s notice are a dime a dozen, but it’s shockingly rare to see life-or-death risk treated with the gravitas it deserves.

And as for the characters that do make it out? Every one of them comes back traumatized, in one way or another. Whether something happened to them personally, or they’ve got plain old survivor’s guilt from watching their companions become lost to the void, prospectors come back broken… and the only positive outcome they can hope for is to have found something worth enough to the company that they’ll be able to afford a comfortable life and the mental health care they now need.

Gateway is not about how we can change the world; it’s about how easily the world can change us.

— “I WILL massage your seven points if you will read Gibran to me. Nudity optional. 86-004.” —

Gateway was written in 1977, and at first, I thought it was just problematic the way lots of sci-fi from that era is: filled with heaps of the author’s antiquated views on women, gender issues, sexuality, and race. The thing is, contrasted with work by the likes of Arthur C. Clarke or Larry Niven, these takes genuinely strike me as a character choice, rather than the views of the author seeping through. 

Bob is a very flawed protagonist – the whole damn book is about him going to a psychiatrist, working through his trauma, and recognizing his own deficiencies as well as how and why they’ve hurt those around him. Especially given the strength and intentionality of Pohl’s prose, it doesn’t feel far-fetched that he’s using this casual racism and toxic masculinity to paint a picture of a particular sort of emotionally unavailable, non-introspective man.

And ultimately, what makes Bob Broadhead a compelling protagonist isn’t heroism, charisma, or a cool head in the face of danger. He’s a compelling protagonist precisely because he’s an indecisive, abusive schmuck that desperately needs therapy.

— “DO YOU have a sister, daughter, female friends back on earth? I’d like to correspond. Ultimate object matrimony. 86-032.” —

Explicit ending spoilers ahead.

The catastrophic mission that is the source of Bob’s biggest, lingering trauma is alluded to from the very beginning of Gateway, and is alluded to often enough that I became skeptical it would measure up to the expectations Pohl was setting. I was wrong, though – the situation Bob finds himself in is a nightmare scenario I’ll not soon forget. 

Essentially, his last expedition takes the crew vanishingly close to the event horizon of a black hole, with their only hope of escape being to jettison one half of the ship into the black hole to propel the rest back out. Bob gets stuck on the opposite side as everyone else, ready to die, but somehow, the plan goes backwards and Bob is pushed free of the event horizon alone, with the remaining crew sucked into the black hole, never to escape.

— “Obediently I reconstruct the situation in my mind. There I am, talking to Klara on the radio. Dane is shouting something in the lander. We’re all frightened out of our wits. Down underneath us the blue mist is opening up, and I see the dim skeletal star for the first time. [...] It stinks of vomit and perspiration. My body aches. I can remember it exactly, although I would be lying if I said I was letting myself feel it.” —

The fucked up thing about this is, this isn’t your run-of-the-mill survivor’s guilt. It’s not that he watched his whole crew die, while he goes on living – due to the relativistic nature of time in a black hole’s event horizon, they’re still alive. Even decades after the expedition, as Bob lives on day to day, and even when he’ll be on his deathbed, fading away… his entire crew will be essentially frozen in that single moment forever, trapped like flies in amber, watching him escape and thinking he doomed them all to save his own skin.

God damn.

[aeternaelia]

Infinity Nikki Screenshots [22/???]: Stellar Fishing Grounds

[distrxst]

you're not just expendable. you're obsolete. there's nothing waiting for you if you leave. so why bother trying with the mission?

there's that buzzing . it's like an irksome clicking , something poking and prodding at torn wires and then some . the voice , wracked with complaints and taunts , back again . the machine readies itself once more - for an eyefestation , for the sound of a turret whirring to life , but listens in for something wholly more unusual .

the program speaks , questions him with a newer tone , almost confused - confounded at why the machine would do something so tedious - something useless to help those who have plans to shut it right back down . it holds a bit of humanity , something severely lacking in every inch of this structure . like it pities the model for a truth it may not know . v1 knows it anyways . he's a war machine , his processing power is stellar . very little gets by him . he knows urbanshade has little use for a v-model after the crystal is attained . so , why indeed ?

it's an objective . a low hum erupts from the cooling fans that lay beneath his plates , rust builds at his joints , wings that dip uselessly towards the ground , scraping lines into concrete as he moves - it's all awful , yes , but he is alive . v1 is alive - living , breathing , a heart pumping as the core of his builds . a pulse that races as he narrowly escapes death , the feeling of simple life . it will all be taken away sooner or later . but now he gets to move , to feel , to fight , to fear , before he is put away .

v1 didn't enjoy sitting still .

shiny blue catches the peripheral of its vision , and v1 steps across the room to hurriedly collect it . the big fish likes these , even if it isn't fond of him specifically . he likes to collect . v1 likes to be alive . being able to do anything is fulfilling enough . he will take it . take any time to roam - to live in motion . to irritate , to die , and certainly to offer undeserved response to the daft program that seemed to be insistent on extending this objective .

[ purpose . ]

[takethistoyourstardust]

something not enough people notice in infinity nikki is that there’s an entire sector of faewish sprites who refuse to eat any more delicious wishing orbs than they have to in order to survive, because they see themselves as the descendants of those who were tricked by another god, The Loved One, who was able to take away the powers of The Wishing One. most of the faewish sprites back then were tricked because The Loved One’s desire for power made them think it was an earnest wish to love The Wishing One.

the stellar fishing grounds also mention The Loved One, specifically talking about a group of peaceful pieceys that should be forgiving to everyone, because “even The Wishing One forgave The Loved One”. it’s very easy to miss but extremely interesting lore.

[arquusaurosa]

Swimming in the Milky Way

Infinity Nikki Location: Stellar Fishing Grounds Trail // Abandoned District

[alldaynikki]

Daily Tip - Fishing Tulletail

Once every day in the Abandoned District, you can fish for Tulletail. This is the only chance you have daily to catch a 11kg fish needed for course #008 Behold, the Fish King! that you can find in your courses under Burst of Inspiration - 05 Stylists Who Don't Fish Aren't Stylists.

If you don't know where Tulletail is located, you can open your map and go to the Collections button in the bottom left corner of the screen. This option lets you track where the thing you're looking to collect is on the map so that you are able to track it. Once you've collected a certain amount of the collectable, you're able to get a precise location of where it is on the map, instead of just the area it's located in. This will make your collection process much easier.

Tulletail can be found on the same island that the Astral Swan is on. The Astral Swan is up on a cliff near the Stellar Fishing Ground Peak warp spire, while the Tulletail can be fished below from the pier. If you go south from the spire, you can jump down directly onto the pier after you're done collecting feathers from the Astral Swan.

I like to enjoy fishing here at night, because the water sparkles and glows blue, making it look beautiful. Enjoy your collecting and good luck!

[nikki-blogging]

Those pieceys in the stellar fishing ground have been trapped for 2 weeks now. But they have fish so they'll survive

[outpost51]

ROY G BIV tag

tagged by @void-botanist over here, ty ilysm bb <3

Rules: Search your your writing for the colours of the rainbow and post the excerpt.

low/no pressure tagging: @sparatus @thetrashbagswasteland @teamdilf @omniblades-and-stars @lag-train @commander-krios @vacantgodling

shoving the rest below a cut for dash courtesy, also violence

RED

from Stellar Parallax, Chapter 2: Red Fish, Blue Fish

You could die, you fool! “Better dead than whatever the fuck you want me to be,” Jane rasped. It screamed with a thousand voices. Her ears felt wet. Metallic salt seeped into her mouth. She was on the ground. Pieces of the beacon rained down around her. Rain poured into her mouth and nose, washing blood into her sinuses and making her choke until she retched. Faces blurred in and out of view, vaguely familiar ones and one she remembered for sure, stark white against the blood red sky. It looked wrong, though, and it took until ship engines howled overhead and unconsciousness had nearly taken her away to figure out why. Fear didn’t look right on the bogeyman.

ORANGE

from Stellar Parallax, Chapter 9: Unshackled

Jane had been hospitalized for two weeks following the Skyllian Shitshow — less for the gunshot wound and more for ‘being a danger to herself and others’. The food had been unremarkable at best; allegedly, psych ward ate better than regular hospital patients for morale reasons, and all she could think at the time was how much it would suck to be bedridden and eat worse food than the shit they shoved at her through the door hatch. The worst had been tomato bisque, viscous and orange and somehow tasting of nothing but black pepper and whatever pills they’d ground up and mixed in.

YELLOW

from Stellar Parallax, Chapter 7: H(a)unt

Nihlus stepped between Jane and the stairs, but before she could chew him out for blocking her shot, his body rippled, organic flesh burning to ash and floating away. The thing that looked back at her had too many eyes and too-sharp teeth and the tree beneath the endless glass ocean shattered the surface with spires. The spires stretched up, up, up to the ceiling, like children begging for a parent’s love. But the great black ships were just things made of metal and wires and hate. They weren’t capable of love. Some monstrous creature painted up with white and blue kissed her brow with the muzzle of a Vindicator. Its fingers looked like the spires still growing towards the stars, and its mouth was peeled back in a permanent grin. Jane’s lip curled up to match. She would show these things she had teeth, too. That hers weren’t an empty threat. That she had used them before and would use them again. Behind the shadowy figures presiding over her trial for crimes against the Old Machines, a yellow-striped geth uncloaked. Its big yellow eye stayed trained on her Firestorm like it was the biggest threat in the room. She’d just killed a man with a plastic fork. She didn’t need a gun to be dangerous.

GREEN

from Stellar Parallax, Chapter 4: Unfortunate Things

Jane didn’t have clothes of her own since they had to evacuate so quickly, so he’d gladly given up one of his PT shirts and a pair of sleep shorts once Williams and Dr. Chakwas got her cracked out of her armor. She practically drowned in them, but they did the job, even if they made her look so incredibly small. She’d always been on the shorter end, and all the muscle she put on over the years still didn’t bulk out her scrawny frame much more, but she was so… larger than life, it was easy to forget how physically unimposing she looked out of armor and not armed to the teeth. And with teeth, too. Unfortunate things happen in battle, John. Ruthless. That’s what they’d called her after Torfan. If he believed nothing else, he knew that descriptor was true, especially after their final test in N-school. Especially after she’d gunned down a retreating man. Her eyes had looked so hollow afterwards; he’d expected anger, something hot and hissing, coiled up like a viper ready to strike, but there was no life in that deep green lake. That looked personal, Commander. It was. He couldn’t reconcile that person with the small, fragile thing lying so concerningly still under so many blankets – they’d had a hard time getting her body temperature stable, Dr. Chakwas said. They had to sedate her, too, and it had taken Nihlus to restrain her long enough to get the IV catheter in. What had that thing done to her?

BLUE

from Stellar Parallax, Chapter 12: Dig (unpublished)

The seagrass had been lost to the river for a long time, but the river couldn’t take that memory from her, of a scrawny boy with minnow-grey plates and eyes like tidepools. “Really?” Garrus drawled. “I give you the last of my lunch, and this is the thanks I— ack!” Jane shook the tingle from her knuckles and pushed off his keel, then offered him the same hand. “Stabbed a salarian with your fork, too,” she snorted. “So that’s two I owe you. You look good.” Her mouth curled up. “Even without the tinfoil hat.” Garrus rubbed the sore spot from his throat as he stood. “Think I liked you in the hospital gown better,” he groused. A blue flush had already darkened his throat. “You’re still a bad liar, Garrus Vakarian.” Jane socked his bicep and turned back to their shore party.

INDIGO

from Blinding Neon, Shades of Grey, Chapter 1: Hello World

It’s dark when she enters, save for a floor lamp in the corner. One of the show droids, the rabbit, lurks beside the chair that’s turned away from her, a hulking indigo mass that looks far fucking bigger than it does on stage. Someone has traded its stage look for a far more muted suit, finely tailored pinstripes emphasizing every inhuman bend and curve and making it appear taller, endless, looming.

VIOLET

i know i used pink shhhshhh from The Unlikely Adventures of Bitchface and Go F*ck Yourself, Chapter 6: Playing With Fire

Taking another breath, Dillon pushed all thoughts of Zadimus being an asshole out of her mind. He was right, not that she’d admit it out loud. The line of energy glowed a dull violet as it stretched on and on, deep underground, as far as she could sense. She flexed her fingers towards her feet, then closed them, trying to feel the hum solidifying in her hands as she guided it upward. The less she strained, the easier it got to pull, and the higher it rose, the stronger the buzz became until finally she felt it right beneath her feet, tingling her arches where she balanced on it like a tightrope.

[hmshermitcraft]

For the weekly theme!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Etho was one of the dragons of the Hermitcraft server who have decided to live in houses made of blocks, spending more time in their human forms rather than as dragons, and learning from those who were born fully human

It wasn't a matter of belief or anything, really! One day Etho was flying by, and his eyes were drawn to shiny red items scattered all over the ground, near a human building. Ohhhhh, those would look FABULOUS in his horde, he just HAD TO sweep in and take a few!!!

However, before he managed to figure out how to fish those blocks out from the contraption that held them, a shout was heard from the house. A very tall and lanky human, with a fluffy moustache, almost tripped over his elegant shoes as he rushed outside. He wasn't about to let someone take apart his redstone machine, even if that someone was a dragon 10 times his size

Thankfully, Etho was a very calm dragon, so it was easy for Mumbo to explain why taking the redstone was a bad idea. Etho flew away, holding a few ethically sourced blocks from Mumbo's storage in his paws, but the thought of the shiny red dust that made machines work would not leave his mind, no matter what he did

This is how Etho found himself living amongst humans. He slowly but surely made friends with people other than Mumbo, untill he was well known and liked by everyone, and "he could call himself one of the Hermits" (the last part was Xisuma's words). It didn't take long at all for him to master redstone, he had a real knack for it and very shortly he was considered one of the best redstoners around

There were a couple other dragons living as part of the Hermitcraft too, so Etho was very content with his life. Talking and working alongside Tango, Impulse, Ren, Mumbo, and other people, sometimes going on flights with the mischevious feather dragon siblings Pearl and Grian, or just hanging around with his new friends, listening to Scar trying to swindle another item for his horde from someone, and being swatted upside down the head by Cleo, a stunning copper dragon

One day, when he was pouring over another solo project of his, a shadow covered his working area. Before he even managed to look up, a huge weight slammed into him, and had him pinned to the ground. It's good that dragons were particularly resilient, even in their human form, or else he'd be an Etho pancake

Once he managed to scramble from underneath the thing that fell on him, it turned out that it wasn't a thing at all, it was another dragon who crash-landed right outside Etho's base. No, crash-landed was not the right word, the dragon definitely just... fell out of the sky, passed out due to the many injuries he had all over his body

Etho panicked, quickly messaging other Hermits about the situation, asking them to come and help him. The dragon might be a stranger, but those injuries were so severe... he might just not make it...

Thankfully, because of the collaboration of Cub (who despite all his grumbling, did a stellar job with knitting torn flesh together), and the redstoners of the server (including a very worried Etho), the strange dragon was brought back to full health, and there was a custom made set of redstone-powered prosthetics (complete with a mechanism that allowed them to adapt to both a dragon and a human body) waiting for him, when he wakes up

It did take a while for the dragon to wake up. Etho... was very very worried about the stranger. It sure was weird for him, to be this invested in someone's fate, but he couldn't help but to feel drawn towards the other dragon. He spent a lot of time waiting by the den the other dragon occupied, hoping to catch the moment he woke up. And well, when the stranger's condition was stable, and there was no imminent threat hanging over everyone, Etho couldn't help but to notice just how deep the green of the other's scales was, how the magnificent goat horns curled on the sides of his head, how powerful were his wings... oh dear, did he just manage to develop a crush on the other dragon??? While that one was unconscious as well??? Oh no....

Eventually, the strange dragon woke up. Etho was not there to see it, but he rushed over as soon as he heard the news. The dragon, slightly disoriented still, introduced himself as Doc. He explained how he ended up right outside Etho's base (running away from dragon hunters, that one made everyone wince. It was rare for a place to be as accepting as Hermitcraft...) and in turn, he was filled in on where he is and what is happening around him

Doc took it all in stride. And he started recovering very quickly as well. Getting used to his prosthetics, and shifiting forms with them, was a bit of a challenge, but everything settled down soon enough

And just as it was with Etho, the Hermits welcomed Doc with open arms. He quickly proved to be wonderful person, and he made a home for himself on the server. Yet again, Xisuma extended an invitation to a dragon, and Doc accepted, becoming a Hermit. The server was a safe place for him, and now no dragon hunters could get him; his new friends would rip them to shreds in his defence. It was... a good feeling

All this time, Etho stared at Doc from the distance, trying to find a reason to go talk to Doc. Besides "oh hey, you kinda squashed me when you fainted mid air, wanna be friends?' he couldn't think of another reason, and that was incredibly weird, so he kept his distance

But!!! Soon enough it turned out that Doc also knew how redstone worked, and he was damn good at it. He was invited into the inner redstone circle of the server, and soon enough Etho was seeing him every day, even talking to him for hours on end!!! It... sure did nothing to stop his crush from developing... nuh-uh. He often found himself drowning in thoughts about how wonderful it would be to have a mate like Doc...

Meanwhile Doc himself was also enamoured with the other redstone dragon. He was trying to figure out how to maybe... change their solo redstone-meetings into dates... He was pretty positive that Etho might like him too, as whenever the conversation shifted from strictly work-realted into something more private, the other man's cheeks turned as red as the redstone he so often had sprinkled on his clothes

But Doc has spent so much time alone and on the run, he didn't know what to do! He was not used to interacting with others... How would he even ask Etho to be his mate... oh no...

Alas, they were pretty damn obvious with their feelings, despite thinking themselves very stealthy. At this point, their friends stopped being amused at the duo circling each other, and instead became annoyed. How long can they keep this up!? Ugh, this is too much. The Hermits hatched the "Get Two Idiotic Dragons Together" plan, and once Hermits have a plan, it just MUST succeed

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

(Ahh... it's not quite as good as I was hoping it'd be, but I dunno what to change here... sigh...

Anyways, I might submit more things, so can I please be the 🌠 anon?)

They don't want to push the two so much that it forces them apart, but it's getting a little silly. The pair are clearly close! They think they just need some encouragement to take that final step.

They go for the obvious first. Bdubs and Beef try to nudge both of them into at least admitting they're interested in each other! Which... Etho is a terrible liar and spends several minutes going "Doc? Nooo, absolutely not! Why would I- no!" And Doc waves it off but doesn't specifically say no. But neither of them say yes, either!

So, it seems like they're going to have to go to plan B.

Plan B involves a spontaneous 'redstone problem' that somehow both Doc and Etho got called on to fix! They joke about it at first, before getting into the work, trying to figure out what's gone wrong with the contraption. It takes longer than it probably should (Bdubs' redstone is perfect, okay), but then a piece of paper spits from a dispenser reading 'just go on a date already'.

Doc and Etho both try and brush past it, joking, until they realise... A date wouldn't be terrible, would it? If it goes wrong, they can just leave it there and go back to being friends (and pack, as well.)

Eventually they admit how long they've been crushing on each other. But that takes until at least the fourth date.

[tjemegames]

HSR: e0s1 Feixiao Warps

My video footage was super glitchy and partially corrupted so we’re doing this the old fashioned way 🫠

Starting off on a high with a 50/50 win after 80 pulls. I was lowkey fishing for Moze (yes, you may call me a hypocrite) so this was a pleasant outcome. I told myself that I would only fish until I hit the first 5* this time around, netting a grand total of 2 Moze copies in the process. Not how I would've liked for that to go but I got Feixiao out of it; this was a relatively huge win for my FUA roster, a loss to Himeko would've been better for my account but we don't question wins around here. Since I was feeling pretty good about my odds, I decided to stop fishing and pull for sig instead of trying for Robin.

Went a bit downhill with a 75/25 loss after another 80 pulls. This is the hardest pity I've ever had to go to on the light cone banner... It was not a good time and my friends (who were with me, in person, live reacting to my pulls) were wincing through my frantic clicking and mutterings of "it's fine. aha, it's fine... please? eh, i'm gonna go bankrupt." They then got to watch me sink two-thirds of my starlight into buying more pulls before the tragic final 10 pull of the day and subsequent reaction of "no, NOOO! gePAAAARRRD!! WHY? i hate this game..."

I'm now on the ground, my guarantee took 8 days of grinding and 67 more pulls to come through. I spent the final third of my starlight, did the 2.5 continuation, scrounged around collecting treasure/completing the Penacony mini-games that I hadn’t done yet, forced myself to finish Swarm Disaster, and achievement hunted to make this happen. Was it worth it? I don't know. The answer is probably yes; I'm already sharing Cruising in the Stellar Sea between multiple units, I don't have Baptism of Pure Thought or Worrisome, Blissful, and using swordplay on her (even though it's a fine f2p option) doesn't appeal to me, so this was the way to go... Still hurts though.

Here's what 227 warps got me:

2 x Asta (already e6)

1 x Day One of My New Life (s6)

1 x Luka (e6)

2 x Moze (new, e1)

1 x Trend of the Universal Market (s6)

6 x Swordplay (s12)

5 x Resolution Shines as Pearls of Sweat (s6)

1 x Feixiao (new, 79 pity)

6 x The Birth of the Self (s13)

1 x Natasha (already e6)

1 x Qingque (e5)

1 x Moment of Victory (new, 71 pity)

1 x Arlan (already e6)

1 x Tingyun (already e6)

1 x I Venture Forth to Hunt, (new, 67 pity)

Total = twenty-eight 4*s & three 5*s

These were, hands down, the WORST warps I’ve done so far. She took everything from me… No savings or stralight left to even attempt to fish for another copy of Moze. I hate to say it, but I might actually be forced to skip anyone who comes out within the next 4-6 months. It’s not like I need to pull anyone, I’ve got enough units to clear endgame with, but being completely broke at the conclusion of a continuance is terrible timing. Sincerely hoping that they won’t rerun the light cones I’ve been waiting for before I’ve had the chance to replenish my savings.

That’s all for this one. Good luck to anyone who is pulling on the lesbian kryptonite banners! May your luck be much better than mine was.

I’m gonna go sulk and work on my Feixiao now 🫡

[onceuponalegendbg]

Thoughts During Nimona

Why not, you know. I have seen a few things on this site, so I know the general themes of the movie, so I thought I’d go ahead and check it  out.

Let’s do this.

Cool storybook intro.

I’ve seen it already but man this animation really is gorgeous.

Aww that’s sweet. Ballister and Goldenboy (I know that’s not his name) are cute.

Oh whoa! Queen just got shot! Who switched the sword?! I have a guess considering what I’ve seen.

Hi Nimona.

Oh, really messed up his arm.

“Are you disappointed that I’m not a murderer?” “I mean, a little.” I love them.

God the lighting in this movie!!

That entire escape sequence was stellar.

“Common” children, huh.

“Ah. A ‘don’t be alarmed’ alarm. Effective.”

Yeah I knew there had to be cameras.

I also knew this backstory was bogus. Lol Love it.

“Oh, no. Let me see if I can pass this problem onto someone else.”

Yep, Director switched the swords.

“This could damage people’s faith in the Institute.” No, duh.” “Look, the Institute isn’t the problem, the Director is.” .....Uh.... Bal I’m sorry man but... I’m with Nimona on this one.

Wow, Ambrosius having a bit of an internal freak out.

“Says the miscreant whispering in his ear,” says the Director as she whispers in Ambrosius’s ear.

“You changed the way you see me.” I’m on the verge of tears.

“We have a monster in our kingdom.” Yeah, we’re looking at her.

I knew it was Nimona when they started flopping all over the place. Lol This dynamic is cute though man.

“Metal.”

Something tells me that it’s possible that they’ll spin it that it was Nimona disguised as the Director.... We’ll see.

I FREAKIN KNEW IT!!!!! AND NOW IT’S MAKING THEM DOUBT THEIR OWN NEIGHBORS!!!!! FRICK ME!!!!

Ugh! NO I KNEW IT HAD TO HAPPEN BUT I DON’T WANT THEM TO FIGHT!

Now for actual backstory. The birds, the fish, the deer.... and the well.

The way she starts out as smaller animals just trying to swat and block the attacks coming at her before going to a horse or a bear because it’s the only way she might either defend or scare them off... and she’s still not even actually attacking them....

Gloreth....

Dude that “monster” design is dope.... Poor Nimona though.

“High five!” “Bro...”

Willing to fire on your own citizens. Wish I could be surprised.

Ambrosius really having his “Are we the baddies?” moment.

“I’m sorry. I see you, Nimona. And you’re not alone.” Whoo boy... I knew this movie was gonna get tears out of me.

Still gonna fire the big laser! I mean, I’m not really surprised but dang lady....

I haven’t mentioned it yet but the score is really good in this movie.

Yay! She’s alive! But.... man, I need so much more....

Wow, that was such a good movie. I had such a good time. Got emotional a couple times. I remember ND really tried to get this off the ground a couple years back so I’m glad they finally got the chance. So so good.

[catgirltoofies]

perhaps i should make a spreadsheet of all the items enemies can drop in ni no kuni 2, because literally zero online resources have any kind of information like that.

the material lists largely scrape from the game - unfortunately this means a very limited amount of information, because the game only considers where you can pick up an item off the ground. i have 7 wee urchins and the game's telling me they're acquired only in ??? and ???. i know they dropped from stellar jellies. online resource tells me you can get wee urchins from makronos, dampshoe cave, the fish markets, and the fish shop in hydropolis.