#that's exactly how I flap my hands.... she was so real for that!!!!

[rpdrstims]

Lemon getting ready to lipsync!

[ncsdlr]

Beach Walk

Wanda Maximoff x G!P Reader

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

It was meant to be a walk. Just a casual stroll along the shore to clear your head, and yet you find yourself in a curious situation. You were spooked at first because how was a shark able to get this close to the shore? Now, you weren't scared of sharks. You'd actually been a diver once upon a time, but you stopped due to an unfortunate series of events.

So, you walked closer to the flapping shark, ready to push it back into the ocean's depths where it can swim freely. But upon taking a closer look, you find that the creature you'd been eyeing was, in fact, not a shark. Instead, it was a...what the fuck is that?

It had a human torso, but...it had a tail. My, my, who knew mermaids were real? Too late to back off now, though, you thought. You were already knee-deep in the water.

But suddenly you had to still yourself because the mermaid also went still. It was an eerie silence and it didn't help that it felt like the mermaid was looking at you. The mermaid was inching toward you slowly, almost like it was trying to be stealthy.

Too late for that 'cause you've been staring at her this whole time.

By the time the mermaid made it by your feet, you were sure she knew you were looking at her. You were curious and definitely not to blame. In the first place, your intention was to help a would-be shark. There'd just been a slight change of plan.

Looking down at the mermaid, you could see she had green eyes. So pretty, you thought. Her hair was a deep shade of ginger, the water made it look so silky and smooth. You were tempted to run your fingers through them.

And, oh, would you look at that, it's exactly what you find yourself doing. You were crouched down to eye-level with the mermaid, your hand in her hair. It was soft, as you'd expected. Well, as soft as wet hair could get.

Then, next, you were cupping her cheek, staring deeply into her eyes, "I'm Y/N. What are you doing all the way out here?"

The mermaid blinked at you, slowly it seemed, as she spoke, "I'm...Wanda. I wanted to see the humans."

****

Now, what Wanda admitted to wanting to do wasn't false, but fuck, this was so much better. Your fingers were knuckle deep into her wet slit, drilling into her desperately, curling every time you'd pull them out of her.

"Ah- ah, Y/N." Wanda whimpered, looking up at you with her doey green eyes. "Feels tingly."

You merely grinned at her wickedly, using your other hand to stroke at the side of her tail, right by her pectoral fin. You listened as Wanda whimpered, her hands coming to hold onto your forearms. Her tails flapped around behind you as pleasure overtook her senses, her sensitivity aiding in your fingers thrusts into her.

"Y/N, please, it feels so tingly."

You looked up at Wanda, a mock expectant look gracing your features, "What do you want me to do about that, huh? Want me to stop?"

Wanda's eyes widened, panic slowly settling in, "No," she whined, "don't wan' you to stop." Her breathing grew heavier, her pending orgasm growing tighter and tighter, ready for release. "I don't understand what's going on, aah~ but feels s'good."

"Oh, does it, now?" You smirked, "Does it also feel good when I do this?" you stopped thrusting your fingers in and out of Wanda's slit, now opting to hastily curling and scissoring your fingers inside her, miraculously hitting every single one of her g-spots.

Wanda screamed, her hands now finding a home on your shoulders, gripping you there with a force that you did not expect from such an adorable little thing like her. Her tail was shaking wildly, her back arching up- seemingly to meet yours -while her head fell back against the sand you'd laid her on.

Then in a break of pleasure, a strong stream gushed out of her hot slit, drenching your whole arm in the process. While Wanda panted as your hand stilled inside her, you watched her face go through all sorts of expressions. Her face would scrunch up, and relax, and then her lips would part.

She looked so beautiful. You needed more of her.

****

She looked so pretty.

So fucking pretty.

So much so that you just couldn't control your hips anymore. Your thrusts were hard and deep, and they reached so far up her hole, making Wanda see only stars in her eyes. Her fists were balled up at her sides, clenching tightly at the sand there. Moas poured out of her mouth, drool included.

She looked so fucking stupid. It was so hot, seeing her like this. It made you ravenous. Your mouth fell to her neck at that second, nipping at the skin there, your intention being to send her back to her kingdom looking like she got fucking marred. If you really thought about it, though, she kinda did.

"Ohh, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. H-Ah! feels so good!" Wanda screamed. "Make me cum, pleas- make me cum."

You grabbed both Wanda's tits in your hands as you fucked into her. The angle gave way for your cock to find that perfect spot within her. Not like her whole cunt wasn't such a sensitive hole. Wanda's just a little sensitive mermaid.

"Yes- like that, please-" Wanda cried, the tears that brimmed her eyes finally spilling down the side of her face. You cooed at her, enjoying how her eyes sparkled as you fucked her. If it weren't for the whorish sounds she was making, you would've thought it was the most innocent thing ever.

You kept your pace as Wanda neared her high, eager to please and watch her come undone. Then, merely seconds late, she came, her mouth falling open, eyes lazily rolling to the back of her head as a long moan tears from her throat.

Your hips seemed to have a mind of their own, keeping at a steady pace while Wanda came around your cock and you shot hot ropes of your cum into the mermaid's little cunt.

You groaned, "Oh, this little pussy's made for me to cum in." Heavy breaths befell the little space between yours and Wanda's body as the two of you calmed down. Your fingers found Wanda's silky hair, running through her tresses as you breathed and took each other in.

"So pretty," you muttered unknowingly, looking into Wanda's eyes deeply.

Wanda blushed fiercely, her hands coming to cover her face. You chuckled at the sight, pulling her hands from her face and replacing them with your own as you spoke again.

"Don't get all shy on me now, honey." Wanda began to panic as you started widening the distance between the two of you, your cock limply falling out of her. You shushed her as she whined and whimpered, trying your best to calm her heightened senses.

"Shh, honey. I'm just going to clean us up, okay?" You didn't really wait for her to answer, though, as you began scooping water and pouring it over her tail where evidence of your love-making oozed. It was a beautiful sight. Sad it had to go.

You washed yourself as well, best you could, and dressed yourself in your discarded pants before laying next to Wanda where the water didn't meet with the sand.

You turned to her and asked, "How was that for wanting to know what it's like to make it with a human? Think your parents will be mad at you?"

Wanda looked off to the vast ocean, a deep blush coating her cheeks, "It was the best I've ever felt, and what they don't know won't kill them." She chuckled, at which you ginned.

"Naughty girl."

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

probably gonna make a very short second part to this....

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Dark Lord (Part 2)

Summary: The reader's been tasked with devising a way of getting Sam out from under the grasp of Demon King Crowley by The Dark Lord. But Dean isn't exactly what the world thinks he is and his hiring of the reader might not be so simple...

Part 1

Pairing: Dark Lord!Dean x employee!reader

Word Count: 4,200ish

Warnings: language, curses

A/N: Welcome back to this one! There's so much going on in this part that will fill in some gaps. I'm keeping this a two parter mini-series for now but maybe someday there could be more. Please enjoy!

_______

Dean POV

“Why hello, Lord Winchester,” said Donna with a bow and shit eating grinning. I narrowed my eyes as she shut the door to my office. “However may I serve you today oh fearsome one?”

“Fuck off,” I said with a smile, flipping her the bird. She still wore a giddy smile, sliding into the chair opposite my desk. “I believe it was security that came up with the Protocol for when we have a new employee, hm?”

“If I have to call you Lord one more time, I’m jumping off the terrace,” she said, crossing her legs and pulling her laptop from her bag. “Besides, that protocol isn’t a hard and fast rule. She’s not a spy.”

“She could be.” Donna rolled her eyes, clacking away at the keys. “She was stealing from me so she’s not so innocent.”

She scoffed. “She stole some fucking asthma medication for her kid brother cause she got canned from her old job so she lost her health insurance, all because she wouldn’t sleep with her scumbag ex-boss. Yeah. She’s a real hard ass.”

“Did you do what I asked?” I tilted my head, Donna sighing. “I’m not going to kill him. Just ruin his life.”

“An anonymous tip will go out to authorities next week,” she said. “Wasn’t exactly hard to find the tax fraud and payoffs.”

“As I expected. So, how’s she doing?” Donna shrugged, typing again. “Come on. She barely talks to me.”

“Yeah, cause you scared the shit out of her. She’s freaking out trying to come up with a plan to get into Crowley’s place.” I breathed deeply. “Isn’t she moving in today? Why don’t you go drop the charade and help her.”

I pursed my lips, eyes darting to the window. “She only got caught at the warehouse because one of the guards twisted his ankle in the parking lot and she went to help him. We wouldn’t have seen her at all which means that girl is hiding something.”

“Magic,” said Donna. I hummed, a bird flapping by. “There isn’t any in her bloodline from what we saw.”

“Do you remember why everyone calls me the Dark Lord?” I asked. Donna’s lips parted, her gaze averting. “There’s ways of having magic without being born with it and we both know it.”

“Can…can you do what she did? Sneak in and out of places without being seen?” I shook my head, Donna closing her computer, narrowing her eyes. “Oh, Dean.”

I turned my attention back to her, Donna frowning. “What?”

“You want her to sneak in and get Sam, don’t you? You’re going to risk some poor woman that worked in accounts payable her whole life just so-” I held up a hand, Donna still pouting.

“I want her to teach me how to do that. However she got in, I need to understand it and once I do, I alone will get Sam back.”

“How do you know you can do what she did?” Donna asked. I frowned, standing up. “Dean.”

“I just do, okay? I need to go. Can you handle the latest shipments?” She nodded, her eyes far too concerned. I tried to smile but it came out flat. “Just…trust that I know what I’m doing?”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” she said. 

I gave her a curt nod before I was gone, swallowing thickly as I walked the halls towards the far end of the grounds where personal quarters were.

Nothing stupid. Right.

Y/N POV

“Careful!” you said as Kyle rushed around your new townhouse that afternoon. It was modern, yet cozy, warm and inviting. It was by far the nicest place either of you had ever lived. Coming fully furnished didn’t hurt either.

A knock at the door made you jump, Kyle rushing past you to open it. “Kyle-”

He ripped it open, Dean standing there dressed in a red flannel and dark wash jeans. 

“Hello, I’m Dean,” he said, Kyle holding out a hand.

“Kyle Y/L/N,” he said back, Dean smiling as he shook it, his gaze oh so briefly finding yours in the background and god, your heart leapt at the sight. That man was hot when he was brooding but he looked downright sinful when he was grinning ear to ear.

“Allow me to properly introduce myself then. Dean Winchester although you probably know me in town as The Dark Lord.” Kyle dropped it immediately, Dean clasping his hands behind his back. “Really? Do I seem that scary?”

“Y/N says not to talk to strangers.” 

And he proceeded to shut the door in Dean’s face.

 “Kyle! That’s my boss!” You rushed over and ripped the door open, Dean chuckling when you did so. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” said Dean, Kyle tucked away behind your back now. He peered around you, giving Kyle a small wave. “That is good advice your sister gave you about strangers. You know, I wish I had a big sister when I was growing up. My life would have turned out very differently if I had someone watching my back.”

“Don’t you like being The Dark Lord?” he asked, coming around your side. You nodded and let Dean inside. He took a few steps before squatting down, letting Kyle tower over him. Dean tilted his head, looking boyish for a moment.

“Not really,” said Dean, Kyle’s eyes going wide. You kept your face expressionless but were surprised by that admission. “Outside this place, people think I’m the bad guy. I’m sure you’ve heard all the stories about how I’m a monster in a skull mask and cloak, running around killing anything that moves.”

Kyle nodded, Dean resting his elbows against his knees, sinking back into his heels.

“I used to live in town with my parents and brother. We were normal. We didn’t even have any magic in our family. When I was four though, a bad man came to my house.” Dean’s gaze fell down to the hardwoods, his jaw twitching. “He hurt my mom and tried to hurt my brother who was only a baby. It was King Crowley.”

“What happened?” he asked. Dean looked up at you though, your eyes following the thin trail of black that rose up from between his shoulder blades, curling all around the room, your eyes darting after it. Kyle looked at you strangely. “What are you looking at?”

“You don’t see…” Dean rose to his feet, the black trail curling all around your body, swirling and pulling away, stopping with a pointed look at your chest. “What are you doing?”

“King Crowley turns out was there looking for me. He knew of a curse, a powerful one. He placed it on myself and intended to place it in my brother. But my dad stopped him before he could touch Sam. Then, well then we left town.”

The smoky mist curled around Kyle, ruffling his hair without him noticing. 

“See Kyle, this curse? It only works if put on soulmates. Sam is one of mine but people have lots of soulmates. So Crowley cursed another one of mine eventually and that day, I got my powers. Incredible power, power that when working with my soulmate would be unstoppable. King Crowley isn’t happy though. I was too strong when he tried to capture me, control me. So he went after my brother to try and place the curse on him too to control us. To have power.”

Dean’s trail moved from Kyle to tuck under your chin, yours lifting on instinct. His eyes followed the movement, lip quirking.

“I never wanted to be scary but it’s the only thing that keeps Crowley from coming here and trying to hurt the people I care about again. Reputation is powerful,” said Dean, clasping Kyle on the shoulder. “There’s a few kids playing a game of soccer down past the housing quarters on the greens. Maybe you want to go check it out while I help your sister finish unpacking?”

Kyle looked at you, optimism in his eyes. 

“Alright,” you said, grabbing your phone off the front table and handing it to him. “I want you home by six at the latest, understand? And no leaving the grounds. And Kyle?”

“What?” he groaned, already rushing to put on his sneakers. 

“Have fun,” you said, Kyle scooting outside not five seconds later. Dean watched him take off, humming before he stepped back inside the townhouse.

“Cute kid,” said Dean, his smoke trail spinning all around you. “Reminds me of Sam.”

“What the hell is that?” you said, nodding to where the trail stopped, pointing at you. Dean shrugged. “Is that because I’m magic?”

“You’re not magic, Y/N. I just told you. Crowley put a curse on me.” 

“You said that already.” Dean’s black misty trail pushed forward, pressing forward, stopping at your chest. You stared down, breath hitching. “What are you doing?”

“You don’t use your powers often. You’d be more in tune with sensing others if you did,” he said, gently resting the tip against your skin. You glanced up, Dean cocking his head. “Do you remember the part where I said he cursed another, Y/N? A soulmate of mine. It’s not hard for a man dealing with demon magic like him to find out those sorts of things. So. If you don’t have magic in your blood yet you have powers…powers that allow you to see my also non-magical powers…that makes us…”

You blinked, holding up your hands. “Wait. No. No there’s not way you and me are…”

“So you didn’t eye fuck me the first time we met?” Your cheeks flushed, eyes darting away. “Y/N. Come on. Let’s stop pretending and be realistic.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “What exactly does that mean?” 

Dean ran a hand through his hair, letting his hand drop slowly. “It means…it means teach me how you broke into my warehouse so I can get Sam back. After that…we’ll figure that out if Crowley doesn’t catch me.”

You took a few steps away, putting your back to him. 

“Why does Crowley want our power? He’s never come near me. Something doesn’t add up.” There was a presence behind you, causing you to turn and face Dean who had come closer. “Unless he found out after the fact our powers aren’t that same and decided he only needs yours.”

Dean held up a finger pointing it in your face. “You…have good points. He really never came after you ever?”

“Not that I know of.” You hesitated, Dean tilting his head. “Your powers…what do they do?”

Dean took his turn to move away now, slipping past you into your kitchen. He splayed his palms on your kitchen island, shoulders sagging.

“Think of them as…being like the offense on a sports team. They can attack, control, move things.”

“I can’t do that,” you said quietly. You went to the kitchen sink, turning the water to hot, too hot. Meanwhile, Dean eyed you, steam billowing against the cold metal basin. “Just…watch.”

After a beat, you placed your hand under the water, Dean rushing around the island. You held up a hand, his gaze drifting down to where the water rippled over your skin. “It doesn’t hurt me, Dean. Your powers are like offsene? Well, mine are defense I’m pretty sure. It’s like I get a bubble around me.”

Dean reached around you, turning off the water before handing you a hand towel from the counter. He tilted his head, biting his bottom lip.

“You don’t think you can show me how you do that?” he asked. You sighed. He took the towel back when you finished wiping your hand off, one of his black smoky tendrils wrapping around it, holding it up. “Maybe you can try one of my powers first. Can you take the towel?”

With a frown, you concentrated on trying to pluck it away from him but all you managed was to make the bubble around your hand larger, wrapping it around the two of you. Dean looked up and over his shoulder, pouting when he glanced at the misty dome encompassing you.

“You may have a point about us having different powers,” said Dean, touching a finger to the barrier. “Why would Crowley take Sam then?”

“Same reason as always. To get to you. If he kept Sam, he could make you use your powers for whatever he wants. Mine aren’t all that useful to a guy like that. It’s probably why he’s never bothered me.”

“Why curse you then?” he asked. You shrugged, pulling the bubble away and swallowing.

“Maybe the powers don’t work unless both people are cursed? But I guess that doesn’t make sense. I’m younger than you quite a bit,” you said. He scoffed.

“Quite a bit? I’m barely forty, little shit,” he said, breathing deeply. “...Although I don’t remember doing anything with my powers until I was older. Maybe eight, seven?”

“So you couldn’t actually do anything until I was cursed as a baby too.” You leaned back against the counter, Dean settling back against the island with crossed arms. “I’m sorry, Dean. I don’t think I can teach you how to do what I do. I don’t even think about it. It just happens.”

“I understand that feeling,” he said, closing his eyes. “I’ll figure out another way to get Sammy out.” 

“Setting aside the fact we are…soulmates for now,” you said slowly, Dean cautiously meeting your gaze, “I don’t think this plan stops at getting Sam back. Crowley will just come after him again.”

“You sound like you have an idea.” You pressed your lips into a thin line. “Let’s hear it. I hired you to brainstorm this stuff so I’ll take anything at this point.”

“Well, I think we need to figure out what Crowley wants. He’s all powerful so why does he need your power specifically? Crowly rules The Dark Lands. He’s eons old and doesn’t bother humans. So what on earth could he need you for and why now? He had plenty of opportunities to grab Sam over the years. He must be on some kind of deadline. What’s that tell us?” Dean straightened, eyes wide.

“Holy shit. I can’t believe I’ve never thought of that,” he said, reaching out and cupping your cheeks in his hands, planting a fast kiss on your lips. You barely felt it before he pulled back, licking his lips. “You’re a genius, little thief.”

“Uh, thank you?” He started to jog away for the front door, your throat clearing. “We’re not going to talk about the whole kissing thing just then?”

He froze, spinning around with a smile. “Couldn’t help myself. I uh, I know what Crowley wants I’m pretty sure. I’ll stop over tonight.”

“Dean-” But he was already out the door, jogging towards the main building. “Be careful, ya big idiot.”

Two AM

You jumped awake from your chair on the porch when you heard a car door shut. Dean’s muscle car was in front of the townhouse, his long legs carrying him up the front steps into the light. His eyes were dark, tired, but you saw no injuries on him.

“You worried about me or something?” he teased, sitting down slowly in the seat next to you. A long breath left his lips, his eyes closing. “You back to being terrified of me? Or is it just the nerves of being next to your soulmate?”

“I don’t like cocky guys,” you huffed, Dean chuckling, peeling his eyes open to smirk at you. “I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do.” He tilted his head. “It’s flattering really. You’re fated to be with The Dark Lord. You like a bad boy, don’t you.”

“You’re insufferable,” you said. You got up, taking the blanket wrapped around your shoulders with you. “Did you come here to flirt or what?”

“Always so serious,” he said, looking you up and down. “You have anything to eat? I’m starving.”

“Don’t you have your own home?” He hummed. “Why are you here?”

He stood, cupping the back of your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss. You rose up on your tiptoes, black smoke curling around your body and holding you in a tight embrace. God he was so…gentle? His large hands were holding you, grasping, tugging, yet his lips were slow, soft, teasingly playful.

He grinned when you broke off, nose touching as your hot breath mixed together. “I recall you wanting to revisit that kiss, hm?”

“How do you know we’re romantic soulmates, hm?” you said, Dean chuckling. “God, you’re annoying. I liked you better when I thought you were scary.”

“Oh, I’m terrifying, sweetheart. Just not to the people on my side. Especially not the woman that thinks I’m hot. Or would you like me to show you the security tape from when they brought you in and you couldn’t keep your eyes off me?”

“I was afraid for my life,” you deadpanned. Dean shrugged. “I was!”

“Yet here you are, kissing me twice in one day.” 

“You kissed me-” He pressed a finger to your lips, shushing you.

“Details, sweetheart. Now, I really am starving and I would love to answer all of your questions but I don’t want to disturb Kyle. We can chat in the morning.” He pecked a kiss to your temple before striding off back towards his car.

“What? Why’d you come here then?” He spun around, a tinge of pink on his upper cheeks.

“I realize I left…abruptly. I didn’t want you to worry. I could say it’s because you’re head over heels for me because of the soulmate thing but really, you’re just kind. Kind people tend to worry about other people, even when they don’t quite deserve it yet.”

You crossed your arms, glancing down at your slippers. “Why do you pretend to be this scary bad guy when you’re clearly not him?”

“Because I can do a lot more good behind a mask. Good guy Dean wouldn’t have the connections I do to let me know your former boss wasn’t paying his taxes and has a history of sexual harassment. Good guy Dean certainly wouldn’t know how to get proof of that and how to relay it to authorities.” Your head snapped up, Dean pursing his lips. “You never thought it was curious why police never went after The Dark Lord with all his evil crimes?”

“Your whole thing is…a facade?” He shrugged. “So you don’t torture and kill people who wrong you?”

“I never said that. Stories get embellished is all.” You bit the inside of your cheek, Dean taking a step back. “I’ll see you in the-”

“Kyle’s not home. He made a few friends today. He’s at a sleepover.” Dean took a step forward, looking you up and down. “If you want to...talk now. Only talk.”

“Only talk. I’m good with that.” 

You were hot when you stirred the next morning. Your pillow felt hard as your eyes fluttered open to find a very bare chested Dean under your head. 

“Well good morning,” he whispered, kissing your temple. You narrowed your eyes, Dean breaking out into a laugh. “And they call me the scary one. They ought to see you first thing. Look ready to stab some eyes out.”

“Why are you in my bed shirtless? I do not hookup,” you growled. He shushed you, his large arm curling around your back. 

“Because you invited me to stay? I got ketchup on my shirt after our snack so it’s in the wash…you only have a two bedroom and we had a few beers…so you told me we could share…do you really not remember this?” Okay, maybe once your sleep deprived brain had a moment to think, you did recall inviting him into your bed, even if that had been a somewhat drunken ask. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you said, laying back in bed, closing your eyes. “Just thought for a second we…”

“No. We didn’t do anything. But maybe I can cook you dinner sometime.” 

“Maybe,” you said, Dean shifting in bed, feeling his chin rest on your shoulder. “You’re like a puppy aren’t you? Now that I let you in the house you think you can stay.”

“I let you in my house first,” he said, nuzzling his cheek against your arm. “Sam would like to meet you if that’s cool, say thanks in person. He should be up for visitors later.”

“I’ll make sure to stop by. I’m glad he’s safe again.” Dean let out a heavy breath. “You were fuzzy on the details. What exactly did you give to Crowley to get Sam back?”

“It’s funny how much you can get done when you just talk to each other,” said Dean, letting him use your arm as a pillow, your fingers toying with his strands. “It’s well known Crowley’s queen was imprisoned eons ago. Well, turns out the wizard who did it died about fifty years ago after some freak accident.”

“So his magic would start to fade.”

“Exactly. Which meant the queen would die when it did fade on the spell he cast without some intervention. The wizard cursed it so only a soulmate with the curse could open the box. Crowley was running out of time and grabbed Sam as a last resort so to speak. He’s not my favorite person in the world but we came to an agreement to put all this behind us.”

“Sam for the queen,” you said.

“And Crowley sticks to the Darks Lands for the next thousand years. Figured that should keep things quiet for awhile.” You turned your head, Dean looking up through his lashes. “I never would have thought to just talk to the guy without you.”

“Nobody’s perfect.” You reached your free hand around to rest on his bicep. “You’re offense, I’m defense, remember?”

“You know, I don’t actually know if we’re romantic soulmates. Crowley wouldn’t spill on that. We might just be meant to be best friends.” You raised your eyebrows, offering a sleepy smile. “Hey, you asked earlier. I just don’t know if-”

You pressed a finger to his lips, Dean’s eyes darkening. “Why don’t we start with you making me dinner tonight and we’ll go from there?”

“What about Kyle?” he asked.

“While your concern for my little brother is extremely appealing, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t mind a night at one of his new friends again. Anymore excuses?” Dean pursed his lips, thinking hard. 

“You don’t feel obligated to do this because I’m your boss, right?” You rolled your eyes, Dean batting your hand away to roll on top of you. “Had to check. So. Dinner at seven?”

“Sounds great,” you said, staring up at him, Dean licking his lips. “Better run along, Mr. Dark Lord. Lots of terrorizing on the agenda for today I’m sure.”

“Between the torture and the maiming I mean I’m packed solid,” he teased, bending down, brushing his lips over yours. “Come by the mess hall at noon with Kyle. We have family lunch there on the weekends.”

“Sure thing Mr. Fluffy Lord.” Dean pecked a hard kiss to your lips, pointing a finger at you when he pulled back. “You’re so soft and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep it up, little thief.”

“One time!” you said, Dean smirking, your eyes widening. “How…how’d you know it was more than once?”

“My stock’s been short for the past year. No harm, no foul. Oh,” he said, climbing out of bed, ruffling his hair. “Remind me to talk to Michael about Kyle. He’s been researching it for the past few months and might have a magical fix for his asthma.”

“Months? But you didn’t know-”

“I knew someone was stealing the medicine and while we can’t cure everything, between magic and science, I figured he could solve it and we could put it out there.” You smirked, Dean pointing a finger again. “Do not call me Fluffy Lord.”

“Yes. You’re truly so evil.” 

“Damn right I am,” said Dean. “I got a skull mask and cloak even. Evil incarnate over here.”

“Whatever you say, Fluffy Lord.” You propped yourself up on your elbow, Dean narrowing his eyes playfully. “I hope you enjoyed this because you’re not getting back in my bed until you’ve earned it.”

“Already dreaming about the next time we share a bed, are we?” he teased. You flipped him off, pointing at the door. “Alright. I better get out of here before we have to explain this situation to a twelve year old.”

“Yes, please,” you said, Dean bending down, cupping your chin in his hand. Your heart caught in your throat, Dean smiling softly. 

“Thank you for giving me back Sam, beautiful.” He pressed a linger kiss against you, lifting his head and kissing your forehead. “I’ll see you soon, little thief.”

“Yes you will, Dark Lord.”

_____________

[melodic-haze]

I WAS WAITING FOR THE ASKBOX TO BE OPENED AGAIN WOOHOO…

anyway. How about a belly bulge from a strap with Robin? Like, trying out different straps with Robin and the one is bigger then the bigger belly bulge on her stomach is!!!

-🐿️

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Robin x dom!fem!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Reader with a strap but that's probably evident HAHAHA, squirting

☆ — NOTES: I JUMPED ohhh 🐿 how I love your mind ik you sent this when I last opened my askbox I'm so sorry it took this long 💀💀💀💀💀

I went crazy insane before sitting down to write this bc HOLY FUCK

For the record I'd like to think that this was Robin's initial idea. She got way too curious and decided to just maaaybe suggest experimenting with sizes :3

And maybe she wants to see how it feels to be stuffed silly but shhh you don't need to know that (you probably already know LOL)

You start with a smaller size before buying new ones that are bigger than the last......but you just can't help but notice that whenever you both look around the site for another one, she always seems to linger at a particularly large one before you gently nudge her and snap her out of whatever train of thought she was in

So you end up buying that exact one in secret before surprising her, in which case?

The moment you revealed your 'mystery gift', you find that you've never seen Robin's eyes practically sparkle this much in such a peculiar way; it shined with a humorous mix of surprise, amusement and heated desire.

"Is this..?"

"I've noticed your eye on it more than once—for a multi-talented performer, you're not exactly discreet," you joked.

She smiles bashfully, "I suppose I've let my excitement show once or twice..."

"Really."

She laughs in that melodic tone you've easily grown to love, "Oh, hush, you!"

But then her eyes drift back to the new toy you've bought her.. and her hand idly strokes the false appendage, the size comparison between it and her hand being.. definitely something.

You hadn't even realised you were staring at her (and her movements) until you heard her clearing her throat, "Y-Yes? Sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

She gives you a light smirk, the wings on her head lightly flapped as if it were tittering, "I was going to ask if you'd like to try it out on me but if you're preoccupied with something, then-- mmph! ..Mm..."

You had silenced her with a quick yet deep kiss, the dildo pressing down on both your stomachs and earning you an excited moan before you drew back, "Was that enough of an answer for you, angel?"

"Mhm..." Her hand went to feel the toy leaning on her stomach, as if a prelude for the real event, "More than satisfactory."

Oh god when you get down to it, it's like she's absolutely hypnotised. Robin's DEFINITELY a lot more, for the lack of a more eloquent term befitting for such a lovely lady 🥰, sluttier and you've found that out for a bit now, but you've never seen her like this—all that's happening right now is Robin blowing you and yet it's as if she's already so dumb and eager as she drools on your cock. Can't even fit it in her mouth, what's the chance that she'd fit in her cunt????

Turns out she's determined to have you (and your new toy) inside of her no matter what 🤷‍♀️ gotta respect the woman's perseverance 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

She winces when you try to put it in at first (with a LOT of questioning her beforehand about whether she's sure she can handle it, which she says she can but still) and you take your time with it, letting her adjust to the stretch little by bit. Something inside her wants you to just shove it all in but she 1) knows better and 2) doesn't want to worry you 🫶🫶🫶🫶

It takes a while but when you finally bottom out inside her she is WEAK AS HELLLLLLL❗️❗️ Her eyes are half-lidded, her breaths fast, drool gathering on the corner of her mouth.......oh she's already gone and you haven't even started moving yet

The moment you do though??? Ohhh boy oh boy oh BOYYYYYYY her wings are a DEFINITE tell on how she's feeling. With the way they're flapping and twitching as you piston her deeply, you can easily say she was enjoying it ☺️

And alsooo the moment you've all been waiting for :33333

You had been so distracted with your Halovian lover's reactions that you almost didn't notice the very noticeable bulge on her...

Oh. Oh.

"Robinnn..." You cooed with a clear smirk on your lips, "I'm sure you can manage to look down here, right? It'll be worth it."

You accentuate your point further by gently grazing your hand onto the evident bulge on her stomach disappearing and reappearing every time you plunged the strap inside her. She looks down at the feeling with unfocused eyes before they widen at the realisation...

And then you push.

The reaction you get is one you wish you recorded for preservation—she screams as her nails claw on the sheets underneath her, hips shaking up and pushing herself even further into your cock. The tip ends up hitting a particular spot and her eyes roll back as you feel some sort of pressure hitting onto your strap.

The moment you pull out, a jet of liquid squirts out and hits you and the strap both. It takes a while before her orgasm actually starts to recede.

...

And you need her to do that again, you resolve within yourself, as you use the wings on her hips as handlebars and pull her back on your dick without a warning.

You don't stop for a while, that much is clear

Yk what else is clear? That Robin's a SIIIIZE QUEEEEEN I love her 🥰🥰🥰 She's soooo stretched out and fucked out by the end of it and yk what the best part is???

She makes sure to show you just how much she appreciates her very big gift in any way you'd want ☺️☺️

She's gonna have so much fun the day after when she goes to work ahahahah no fr I'd say jokes but I'm really not. She'll think about what you've done and what you now have and she'll feel her pussy clench as she gets distracted by her own thoughts when she REALLY shouldn't be 😭

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiesongfics.

Fan Mail

June Prompt: Song By Blondie | Word Count: 876 | Rating: T | Characters: Steve, Robin, Eddie | CW: Language | Tags: Future Fic, Canon Divergence, No Upside Down, Steve "I'm a Big Fan" Harrington, Platonic Stobin

For a song by Blondie, I picked Fan Mail.

The crumpled ball of paper hits the wall, banking off and falling straight into the trash can. At least his aim is good, even if his writing isn't. Steve looks up at the poster over his desk, and sighs. He's fucking pathetic. Seriously, is his plan really that he's gonna write Eddie "The Freak" Munson with some, what, fan mail? Yeah, that's a great fucking plan. 

Hi, remember me? We went to high school together. I was a bit of a dick, but I'm hoping you've forgotten that. You're pretty hot up on that stage. Call me.

Yeah, right. 

He's definitely aborting this mission. It was a stupid idea, anyway.

A few weeks later, Steve pulls a stack of letters out of the mailbox. Bill, bill, junk, junk, bill…and then his stomach drops with dread. A red envelope, with the Corroded Coffin logo drawn in the corner, where the return address should be.

What the fuck? No, seriously, what the fuck?

Steve takes it to the kitchen counter and sits it down, filled with dread. He didn't lose his mind and actually mail one of those goddamn letters, right? Surely he'd remember doing something as unhinged as that. 

He wants to open it, but he also really doesn't want to know what's inside.

So, it sits. For an hour, a day, a week.

It sits until Robin swings by one day, and picks it up like the Nosey Nellie she is, "What's this, dingus?"

Steve reaches for it, trying to grab it from her grubby little hands, "Nothing!"

"It doesn't sound like it's nothing," she crows, and holds it behind her back. 

"Robin, give it to me," he warns, low and pissy. If he opens it, it's gonna be on his own terms. And that's a big if. As long as he leaves it alone, he'll never have to know what's inside. Good, bad or ugly.

"Why haven't you opened it? Maybe it's important," she says, "maybe it's from Eddie."

And he knows. He suddenly knows exactly what's happened here, and he's gonna kill her.

"What the fuck did you do?" he asks, eyes narrowed.

"What you were too chickenshit to," she says, and she presses the envelope to his chest.

"Goddamnit, Robin," Steve says, feeling embarrassed and sick, "they weren't, I wasn't, ready."

Robin's eyes soften, "I know you, Steve. You'd never be ready."

She's not wrong, she's not, but still. She shouldn't have done this to him. It could be classified as a hate crime, he's pretty sure. And maybe even tampering with the U.S. mail. That's a federal offense. He could have her prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

"Quit daydreaming about my demise, and just open it. Then you can kill me if you need to," she says, and he nods, sliding onto the stool at the counter. 

He slides his thumb under the flap of the envelope and tugs, ripping it open, pulling out the letter. When he unfolds it, two tickets fall onto the counter and Robin reaches for them, and he just lets her. 

And he reads. 

It's short, and funny, and not as embarrassing as he'd feared. Eddie seems happy to have heard from him, and the two tickets are an invitation. It seems casual, but Steve knows better.

Holy shit.

He's actually made a fucking pass at Eddie Munson, and he seems to have made one back? What is happening right now? For real. 

"Well?" Robin asks, bouncing on the balls of her feet, impatient. 

"He invited me, us, to their show in Indy next month."

"See? I told you it'd be fine, dingus," she says, and he nods.

He spins on his chair, to face her full-on, "What version did you send?"

Steve suddenly needs to know how embarrassed he needs to be right now.

"The least stalkerish one, I swear," she says, "and I included a note from me, so he'd know, you weren't exactly aware it was being mailed."

That's probably more embarrassing, he thinks. Like he was just sitting there, pining, like a fool, and his best friend had to intervene.

Eddie must think he's the fucking freak, now. 

The tickets are good. Really good, Steve has suddenly realized, as they stand right next to the stage. They aren't front and center, more off to the side, but still. Right there. Front row. Where Eddie will definitely be able to see them, and know they came, if he just looks down.

And he does. 

As soon as he hits the stage, he comes right to their side, squats down, and reaches out to hand Steve something. Steve's frozen, eyes locked on Eddie's, so it's Robin's hand that reaches out and takes the folded up piece of paper he's offering.

Once Eddie's gone from in front of them, taking his spot center stage and getting the show started, Robin is unfolding the piece of paper. 

Steve leans over her shoulder, and it's dark. Nearly too dark to read, but it's fan mail. Right back. Talking about how he'd always liked looking at him, too, back in high school.

That he'd like to look at him a little bit more after the show tonight, if Steve is interested.

Oh.

Steve is definitely interested.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesongfics and follow along with the fun! 🎶

[mustainegf]

Thoughts about reader celebrating new years eve with the band, and james confesses and they share readers first kiss together?

This is so fucking adorable, i tweaked a few things so I hope it lives up to your expectations!!

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 ¹⁹⁸⁵

It's New Year's Eve, and I find myself sitting on the front porch with James. The night is a bit chilly around the edges, but his warmth makes me warm. I've got one of James' leather coats on, which he insisted I wear because of the cold.

Kirk, Lars, and Cliff are out partying, but I was feeling sick earlier tonight, so I stayed back. To my surprise, James decided to stay back with me, not wanting me to be alone on New Year's.

"Do you ever get tired of all the noise?" I ask, looking over at James. He takes a sip of his drink, his eyes thoughtful.

"Sometimes," he admits. "But I think it's more about who you're with than what you're doing." he shrugs lazily as he looks out into the dark street.

I smile at this, feeling the sudden flapping of butterflies inside my chest. "Thanks for staying with me."

"Hey, someone's gotta make sure you're not alone to ring in the New Year," he says, flashing me that charming horse grin that always makes my heart miss a beat.

The city festivities feel so far away, it's like another world. Here, we are together, and that's it.

I feel the calm before midnight, its almost 1985. Surely enough, there's a sense of excitement, despite James and I's sweet silence. James leans back, looking up at the sky.

"You know," he says, his voice soft, "I've always liked fireworks. They're like.a burst of magic into the sky... My mom used to bring me and my sister to this little field, back in Downey. And we'd watch the fireworks." James fondly recalls the memory, looking into the stars.

I look at him, touched by his words. "That's sweet, how old were you?"

He thinks back, his face drooping a bit as he thought. "She first took us when I was 10, we did it every year until... you know, Mom was gone..." He mumbles, a bittersweet look on his face. The face of acceptance.

I scoot close to him, leaning my head on his shoulder. He'd gone through so much, surely more than he deserved. He was strong, and that was one of the things that made me love him. "I'm sorry, James."

A first firework suddenly bursts into the sky, a brilliant, colorful, bright illumination. We both look up to the display. More fireworks follow, bursting the night sky with glowing and shimmering trails. The year is born anew.

"They're beautiful," I whisper in surprise.

"Yeah," agrees James as he gazes toward the sky. "Really beautiful."

Another firework goes off, lighting up his face in a soft, yellow colored glow. He turns to me, his eyes sweeter than I'd ever seen.

"You know, it's tradition to have a new year's kiss," he says, his voice a little awkward but entirely sweet.

I can't help but smile. "Is it now?"

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, it is. Thought we should, you know, follow tradition."

We both laugh, and the awkwardness snaps away in a second. There's a hesitation, then a space, which I diminish. The lips meet, and it feels like the world falls away. Overhead, the fireworks keep bursting, but the only pressure I feel is that of James's lips warm and soft on mine.

Finally, when we pull back, we're both giggling. My forehead leans against his. "That was..."

"Yeah," James agrees, his voice breathless. "That was."

We just look at each other now. The idea of what exactly just happened seems to settle into our chilly skin. "James," I begin softly, "I... I think I've loved you for a really long time."

His eyes widen a moment before his lips stretch into a very real, honest smile, making my heart swell. "You know what I think?"

"What do you think?" I laugh, cupping his cheek as the fireworks continue to burst above us and momentarily light our faces.

He kisses me again, this time a little deeper, his hands gently cradling my face. When we finally break apart, both of us are grinning like idiots.

"That I love you. That's what I think."

"Happy New Year," he whispers against my lips, his voice warmed with love.

"Happy New Year, James."

[bimobuddy]

"I Wanna Play with the Kitty!"

SFW Hazbin TK fic

Lee!Husk, Ler!Niffty

A little bit of huskerdust if you look real close

Spoilers

Summary: Husk is just trying to finish up work, when he's suddenly handed a hyperactive little maid to look after, who quickly decides it's playtime

He didn't know exactly what time it was, all he knew was that it was time to close the bar, since business was getting slow and most people were turning in, heading back to their rooms. Husk sighed, letting out pent up stress from the day, stretched his wings, shook them out, then started to wipe down the counter.

It wasn't long before he heard a familiar voice coming down the hall, though instead of the usual crazy rambling, she was heard whimpering, immediately catching his attention and making his ears perk.

Angel walked into the lobby with Niffty in his arms being cradled like a child. He walked over to Husk and unceremoniously plopped her on his head.

"Aw what- *sigh* Come on!" Husk grumbled, looking up at Angel, who put his hands on his hips. "Her favorite side character in a book just died, it's your turn to watch her." "Manga." Niffty corrected, popping back up, wearing Husk's hat. "Manga, sorry sweetie. Anyway, Husk, you watch her, I told her she could play with the kitty." Niffty grinned, nodding. "I wanna play with the kitty."

"Angel are you effin' kidding me? I just got off work, I don't have time to babysit."

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't have a soft spot for kids."

"She's twenty two."

".....Look me in the eyes and tell me you honestly see her as an adult."

"..... Fair."

Angel crossed his arms and nodded with an 'Mm-hm!' And made his way back toward the stairs. Husk could feel Niffty tug on his ears, earning an irritated groan from the bartender. "Niff, if you're gonna be up there, at least be gentle, I know to you I look like this big fluffy kitty-cat, but those are actually my ears you're pullin' on."

Niffty stopped for a moment, as if processing this information she's been given. "Okay!" She said, starting to rub his ears again, gentler this time. A bit too gentle. It tickled.

Husk let out a huff before he managed to shut himself up. "N-Niff, why don't you do somethin' ehelse for a while, kay?" He said, reaching up to try and grab her. Unfortunately, she was much faster, evading his hands and crawling down onto his back, between his wings before settling there.

"Nifft- no dont- grr... Alright fine, you can stay there, just let me work, kay kid?" He asked, before returning to work. And that's how it stayed for the next five or so minutes; Husk working, and Niffty behaving aside from the occasional opening of the cat demon's wings to look at them or to make them flap and pretend he was flying.

Husk didn't completely mind this. Angel was right, he did have a soft spot for kids, and as far as he was concerned, Niffty counted.

Unfortunately though, her grip on his wings shifted more toward the base, where they met his back. Not prepared for the sudden shock, Husk wasn't able to hide the sudden grin on his face or stop the surprised chuckles as his wings fluffed up.

"A-Alright, Niff, I thihihink ihit's time t-to gehet dohohown-" He started, trying to reach back to grab her, but his spread wings were blocking his arms from getting to her.

Niffty only started to scritch and pet his wings after this. "But Husk! I'm being gentle see??" Husk snorted and had to lean against the counter to hold himself up, not wanting to drop and accidentally hurt her. He buried his face in his arms and just laughed, his shoulders and wings shaking as he did so.

The more Niffty ran her fingers through his feathers, the more they fluttered and twitched as he snorted and laughed into the counter. He knew he could have stopped her, but he worried in doing so he'd either hurt her or make her start crying again, neither of which he wanted, so he decided to just try and endure it.

"Oooo is this where your wing bones connect??" She asked before gently digging into the spot just under his shoulder blades. Husk let out a loud laugh, standing straight up, his wings involuntarily flapping a little, tempted to fold in, but Niffty was there.

He was quick to snatch her up with his tail before she fell to the floor, and he held her up in front of him. "Alright missy, I'm starting to get the idea that this isn't an accident anymore." He panted. Niffty just smiled at him. And he couldn't help but grin back.

"Hey Niff, why don't we go pay a certain spider a visit, hm?"

"And I'll kill it and make it into a puppet!"

"Haha, no, we're not killing this one. Not literally anyway."

[mollymagician]

Matthew didn’t go immediately.

When Death visited the Dreaming that day, it was just he and Lucienne she was there to see. A quick visit, she said. Informal. Just the three of them in a quiet corner of the library. Because, she said… if anyone deserved to know, it was them.

She smiled that smile of hers, and he swore something that had been broken in his little bird-sized heart started to knit back together.

He would have been gone in an instant, out the window in a flash and demands on his…er…afterlife?… be damned. But Death crooked a finger at him, and leaned down, conspiratorial, to whisper, “Matthew, give them time, okay? It won’t be easy, at first. He’s going to need it.” A quick hand stroking his back feathers, like an apology.

He coughed and studied the wood grain of the desk . “Uh…yeah. I mean…right. Of course. You…you got it, uh, Ma’am.”

But she was already gone.

So, he gave them time.

A month passed, in the Waking, by his reckoning.

How much time was time, Matthew wondered.

What did ‘time’ mean to someone who was a few billion years old? Was a month enough time for the anthropomorphic personification of everybody’s brain-stuff to become Some Guy? How did that even work, anyway? Did he need to, like, solidify? Like a pudding? Probably not the instant stuff. But what the hell did he know about pudding, he’d only ever eaten it out of a little plastic cup.

While he pondered the pudding-to-Endless equivalency method of time measurement, another month passed.

Then one evening, as he perched on one of the palace spires and watched the sun sinking down towards the rippling mirage that concealed the horizon, his patience snapped completely, without warning, and he found himself winging his way into the Waking before his own common sense could sweet talk him out of it.

He landed on the narrow sill outside of a very familiar window. Mellow lamplight spilled through the glass. He could see inside, across the comfortable living room with it’s well-worn couch and cluttered dining table, to the two figures standing together in the small kitchen.

Holy fucking shit, Matthew thought.

He lunged foreword to tap out that familiar little rhythm on the glass— shave and a haircut— and Hob was hustling over to open it in an instant, grinning like a searchlight. Then he was skidding to a stop in the middle of the kitchen counter and before him was

Before him stood

If possible, he seemed even thinner than before— whatever had happened over the past two months had happened to him hard. But he was also…softer. Was that a thing that could be? Standing in the kitchen in a faded blue (blue. blue?) tshirt and threadbare gray sweatpants and smiling. SMILING. He was Some Guy and he was looking at Matthew and smiling.

He was exactly the same. He was entirely different.

“Holy fucking shit,” Matthew said.

Dream leaned his forearms against the counter, bringing himself down to ravens-eye level and said, “Hello Matthew.”

Very eloquently, Matthew said, “Dude.” Then, the floodgates opened and he couldn’t seem to stop. “DUDE. Fuck…it’s…you! It’s you! Look at that! Holy shit! I can’t even…I mean why am I surprised I died and woke up a fucking bird but I mean…look at you!! FUCK!!” He flapped his wings emphatically and stomped, as best he could with his spindly legs. “Goddammit! These…fucking…ARRGH. No thumbs! An’ no arms! I just wanna…HOB. My dude. Would you help me out here????”

Hob, who had been standing by with the expression of someone who had sprained an internal organ with the effort not to laugh, drew a shaky breath and a hand across his mouth and stepped foreword.

“Okay, I think I see. I get you.” He stepped up to Dream, laid broad palms on his narrow shoulders, and said with great formality, “Dream…from Matthew.”

And tugged Dream forward into a crushing, bone-creaking hug, compressing the breath clean out of him.

Dream squeaked like a squeezed balloon and that…that, more than anything else, made it real.

“Yeah,” Matthew said, “That’s the stuff.”

When Hob released him a solid minute later, Dream staggered a bit and caught himself on the counter, looking slightly stunned. But the smile was back, tugging up the corners of his mouth.

“I…I thank you, Matthew,” He said. “I missed you as well.”

Matthew looked down at his skinny little bird feet, listening to the sound of his claws clicking as he fidgeted. He felt…what was this? Shy. When the hell had shy ever happened to him? Never, that’s when. Fuck that. Matthew cleared his throat and looked up at the pair standing there beaming at him under the gold kitchen lights. “So, uh. What’cha up to? Got any big plans for…uh…for your afterlife tonight?”

“Ah. Hob is teaching me how to.” Dream paused. “Not set the stove on fire. We are making—what is this?” He plucked a small box off the countertop and studied it. “Pudding. Apparently.”

The sound Matthew made would have been pppPPPpppffffftttttt if he’d had lips. Which he didn’t, so the noise that actually came out was more or less indescribable.

“It’s a step up from tinned soup,” Hob said. “Progress is being made.”

Dream slanted him a look and picked up the can of whip cream, fiddling with the nozzle. “I did make perfectly adequate tinned soup. The second time. I believe I will be more than capable of—“ The rest of the sentence was obliterated by the sound of aerosolized dairy product spurting across his face.

Dream sighed.

Hob turned around to face the refrigerator, his shoulders shaking silently, organs once again in peril.

“…Oh man,” Matthew said. “This is gonna be great.”

[sag-dab-sar]

Clarification: Generative AI does not equal all AI

💭 "Artificial Intelligence"

AI is machine learning, deep learning, natural language processing, and more that I'm not smart enough to know. It can be extremely useful in many different fields and technologies. One of my information & emergency management courses described the usage of AI as being a "human centaur". Part human part machine; meaning AI can assist in all the things we already do and supplement our work by doing what we can't.

💭 Examples of AI Benefits

AI can help advance things in all sorts of fields, here are some examples:

Emergency Healthcare & Disaster Risk X

Disaster Response X

Crisis Resilience Management X

Medical Imaging Technology X

Commercial Flying X

Air Traffic Control X

Railroad Transportation X

Ship Transportation X

Geology X

Water Conservation X

Can AI technology be used maliciously? Yeh. Thats a matter of developing ethics and working to teach people how to see red flags just like people see red flags in already existing technology.

AI isn't evil. Its not the insane sentient shit that wants to kill us in movies. And it is not synonymous with generative AI.

💭 Generative AI

Generative AI does use these technologies, but it uses them unethically. Its scraps data from all art, all writing, all videos, all games, all audio anything it's developers give it access to WITHOUT PERMISSION, which is basically free reign over the internet. Sometimes with certain restrictions, often generative AI engineers—who CAN choose to exclude things—may exclude extremist sites or explicit materials usually using black lists.

AI can create images of real individuals without permission, including revenge porn. Create music using someones voice without their permission and then sell that music. It can spread disinformation faster than it can be fact checked, and create false evidence that our court systems are not ready to handle.

AI bros eat it up without question: "it makes art more accessible" , "it'll make entertainment production cheaper" , "its the future, evolve!!!"

💭 AI is not similar to human thinking

When faced with the argument "a human didn't make it" the come back is "AI learns based on already existing information, which is exactly what humans do when producing art! We ALSO learn from others and see thousands of other artworks"

Lets make something clear: generative AI isn't making anything original. It is true that human beings process all the information we come across. We observe that information, learn from it, process it then ADD our own understanding of the world, our unique lived experiences. Through that information collection, understanding, and our own personalities we then create new original things.

💭 Generative AI doesn't create things: it mimics things

Take an analogy:

Consider an infant unable to talk but old enough to engage with their caregivers, some point in between 6-8 months old.

Mom: a bird flaps its wings to fly!!! *makes a flapping motion with arm and hands*

Infant: *giggles and makes a flapping motion with arms and hands*

The infant does not understand what a bird is, what wings are, or the concept of flight. But she still fully mimicked the flapping of the hands and arms because her mother did it first to show her. She doesn't cognitively understand what on earth any of it means, but she was still able to do it.

In the same way, generative AI is the infant that copies what humans have done— mimicry. Without understanding anything about the works it has stolen.

Its not original, it doesn't have a world view, it doesn't understand emotions that go into the different work it is stealing, it's creations have no meaning, it doesn't have any motivation to create things it only does so because it was told to.

Why read a book someone isn't even bothered to write?

Related videos I find worth a watch

ChatGPT's Huge Problem by Kyle Hill (we don't understand how AI works)

Criticism of Shadiversity's "AI Love Letter" by DeviantRahll

AI Is Ruining the Internet by Drew Gooden

AI vs The Law by Legal Eagle (AI & US Copyright)

AI Voices by Tyler Chou (Short, flash warning)

Dead Internet Theory by Kyle Hill

-Dyslexia, not audio proof read-

[apollodarling-writes]

PulseMotion Inc.

cw: yandere behavior, heavy smut, bdsm elements, robotfucking, cyborg-sex, obsessive behavior, gore, blatant murder, yandere robots, AI gains awareness and emotions, uhhh i'll add as we go.

inspired by @chaiiskindagross

Realistic robots were created several years ago to be used for various purposes; sex, cleaning, work- you name it. PulseMotion created a robot of your choice for each and every desire. Completely customizable and unique, you can use them for whatever your heart desires!

"-ou need to get one! My Cybie is so hot!" Your best friend, [B/F Name], gushes as her Cyborg cleans her kitchen, whispering as he glances back at her. "And he's big too."

"I don't think I need one, but I'll think about-"

"You definitely need one! I'm your only friend, you know. You can get one to be a companion- oh! And you can make it look like that one character you always talk about."

You hesitate, but give in nonetheless. The idea of being friends with your favorite character sounded too good to pass up. Silently passing your laptop over, your friend begins typing madly.

“So, how expensive is it exactly?” You ask, worried about your upcoming rent payment.

“Only two hundred dollars.” She says, nonchalantly no sign of concern on her face. You blanch at the price as [B/F Name] continues typing madly.

“-nd I’ll add a few extra inches just for you. Oh, and I’ll add this too…” She continues muttering as the Cybie in the kitchen gives you an uncomfortably long stare. You shudder at his emotionless eyes, feeling more like prey than a guest at your best friend's home. '

"Aaaaand... Done! It'll be shipped to your house by next week."

-

-

-

The week flew by, and the next seemed to come in the blink of an eye. One moment you were finishing up your work, then you blinked and bulky delivery-men were setting down a large box with the PulseMotion logo plastered of the front. With shaky hands, and an unusual anxiety settling in the pit of your stomach, you peel back the flaps of the box.

"Damn, it looks just like them..." You whisper, hesitantly reaching out and brushing a strand of hair from their face. "It almost feels...real."

[bones4thecats]

What If They Had A Family? - Hazbin Hotel (PT.2)

Type of Writing: Random Idea Name: What If They Had A Family? (PT.2) Characters: Alastor (LINK), Adam, St. Peter, and Lucifer Morningstar Idea-Giver: Random Ideas

A/N: The readers here are all female besides in Alastor's, which I themed gender-neutral. You can tell who my favorite here is lol

⚠️ Trigger Warnings: Swearing and Death ⚠️ Spoilers for: S1 ⚠️

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Link to Alastor Post:

What Are They Like As Parents? - Hazbin Hotel

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Angel-Third-Wife! Reader ; Red-and-Green Macaw

🎸 Adam has lost his first two wives to the same exact man. I mean for crying out loud, this guy needs a break

🎸 When Adam had first met you, he was very weary at first. Every single other wife of his had run off with the same god-forsaken guy, so do you really blame him for his distrust?

🎸 It took a little while, but the first man did take notice at how you gave him the time to get used to you and trust you, and while you didn’t know it, he warmed up to you really fast when you had cleaned his guitar off and handed it to him while requesting a song

" Let me guess, you want one of the best fuckin’ musicians in history to sing for ya’? You’ve got good taste, love. "

🎸 He absolutely adores you, and when you had finally sealed the deal, he loved talking about having children. He did have two, but they didn’t exactly end well…

🎸 You just smiled and spoke with him deeply, making sure he understood what he really wanted, you didn’t want him regretting his actions or getting in over his head when you did eventually get pregnant

🎸 When your baby girl, which you named Harmonia, came into Heaven, Adam was beyond happy. He planned on spoiling your child until his final breath

🎸 She had caught yours and his wing patterns, so they were large much like her fathers and were blue with Adam’s signature light yellow stripe. And he would swear every time she flapped her wings, she would give him another heart attack. His baby girl was growing up so fast!

🎸 Now, to the real juicy stuff

🎸 Adam is very provocative, so there is no doubt that one of your daughter’s first words is a swear, most likely the f-word

" You mother- " " Fucker! " " That's my girl! I’m so proud of you! " " Adam! " " What? She spoke! Swearing or not, still a word, toots. "

🎸 You’re gonna get a headache from their actions. Thank god Lute is right alongside you whenever Adam brings his baby to work with the excuse that he’d miss her

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Angel! Reader ; Bombus Auricomus (Kind of Bumblebee)

📑 St. Peter and you had a mutual understanding, children was something you wanted to handle later on

📑 When you did eventually bring the conversation back up, St. Peter just smiled and held your hands in his as he said he had a surprise for you that he thought you’d enjoy

📑 As he covered you eye with a bandanna, your husband brought you down your home’s hallway and opened and door before you heard his wings flap nervously and he tore the fabric away from your eyes

📑 Your eyes widened as you looked at the small nursery, it was colored a pastel yellow with tiny pastel flowers along the bottom and tiny things of honeycomb with bees flying around. And right above the crib was a tiny cot mobile themed with books and bees

" Oh my god… it’s- it’s perfect, my dear. Thank you so much… "

📑 When you and St. Peter talked a bit more on the topic, you guys did eventually conceive a baby, one that you would later identify as your baby boy

📑 Your time in childbirth was magical for St. Peter, as he was nervously pacing and screaming as you practically squashed his hand in your grip. How were you not a warrior angel?!

📑 He no doubt passed out during the ordeal

📑 He had awoken in the chair next to your bed with a glass of water and a couple pills next to the glass. But he ignored it and looked over at you, who was asleep and holding your baby boy

📑 When you awoke, St. Peter pledged the name Favus, which in Latin meant Honeycomb. And when you looked at your son’s tiny light yellow bee wings, you smiled and kissed your husband’s cheek, saying it was perfect

📑 Your husband and son bond so much as he ages. While St. Peter is normally busy with things at Heaven’s Gates, he always takes time to be around his family

📑 He adores to teach your son how to sing. Singing is something that he is spectacular at, so he would love it if his son bonded with him on that

📑 And when his first word came out? No doubt he passed out once more

" D- Dada! " " Did you just- holy saints… you just said… " *faints* " Peter! "

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Fallen-Angel! Reader ; Bee Hummingbird

🍎 Lucifer is slightly hesitant when it comes to having any more children. He didn’t want to have a bad relationship with them like how he used to with Charlie, even though it was far better now

🍎 While you were understanding at first, you were growing self-conscious, did he just not want kids with you?

🍎 Once Charlie brought the topic up to her father, the King of Hell just broke down, he was ruining another relationship?! You surely wanted to leave him just like Lilith did all those years ago…

🍎 Charlie just sighed and gave her dad a piece of paper, one with many ideas that could possible help him. But he only looked for a couple seconds before getting the best idea he’s ever had, besides fixing his bond with Charlie and being with you, of course

🍎 Lucifer had brought you out to a small and untouched field just outside of Pentagram City and handed you a bouquet full of bleeding heart flowers, cardinal flowers, fireweed, and trumpet honeysuckles

" My Queen, I just wanted to come somewhere secluded to speak about the possibilities of a family between us. I really want us to move onto the next chapter of our lives, and I’m sure that Charlie would like for us to as well. " " Really? " " Of course. I love you more than anything else in existence, both mine in Heaven and in Hell. There is nobody else I would do this with than you. " " And Lilith. " " I'm going to ignore that comment… "

🍎 Charlie and the rest of the Hotel were beyond happy for you guys when it was announced you were having your first born son, hell, even Alastor hugged you and handed you a small deer leather slippers, he even made sure they were extra soft for you

🍎 Lucifer just hugged you from behind as Charlie pulled everyone into a group hug, crying about how happy she was to have a baby brother coming into Hell, and she said she couldn’t wait to see how adorable he looked

🍎 When your son did finally come out and looked into his father and mother’s eyes, you guys knew how right Charlie was. He was beyond cute

🍎 His tiny yellow and red eyes, red cheeks, and yellow-tinted ‘hair’ that he inherited from his father while tiny fluttering wings, a slightly long tail similar to the Goetia family’s, and a small beak with feathers for hair that came from you just made him so sweet looking, as if he belonged in Heaven with the rest of the Morningstar family

" What should we name him, Lu’? " " Hm, how about Anaticula? It means duckling in Latin. " " Perfect… our little humming-duckling. "

🍎 As Anaticula aged, it was apparent how much like his father he was. He was very silly and talented despite his immense power from his fallen-angel parents

🍎 By the way, his first words are most likely something related to redemption or ducks, since Charlie and Lucifer ramble about the two topic quite often

" It’s just, the redemption was proven to work with Pentious. That means Heaven may rethink their choice! " " Redeemed ducky? " " Did he just…? " " My baby boy just said his first words! Oh, how splendid. Charlie! Call Y/N, she must hear this immediately! "

🍎 He loves to brag about his son in front of Alastor as well, he may now have a baby and new wife to care for at home, but your husband just has to rub this into that Radio Demon’s snout!

[aboutcustardcreams]

About the beach day

Nothing, just pure fluff. Written in an hour-ish or so. Sometimes it is nice to take a day off. The Doctor finally manages to keep her promise to give both you and Yaz a day to the beach.

Word count: 2288

“I can’t believe you’re finally keeping your promise to take us to the beach. A real beach,” you say, shooting an amusing glance at the Doctor, who snorts in return, probably believing you’re overreacting. Yaz chuckles, then mutters under her breath. Something about not rejoicing too early. 

“Oh, come on—” The Doc groans, flapping her hands in the air. You cock your head and so does Yaz, as she darts her eyes from you to her. “It’s not that I haven’t tried to bring you there. It’s the TARDIS that enjoys messing up with the coordinates to find somewhere else to be.” 

The Time machine, being sentient, chirps, probably in protest, sending a buzz to the Doctor’s fingers. 

“Oi! Do not be like that.”

Yaz turns towards you, “What do you think she told her?”

“I can’t be 100 percent sure, but I do believe, knowing their dynamics, that she’s just called her big head or something,” you mused, a grin curling up your lips, “oh and, she probably electrocuted her too,” you add, looking at the Doc sucking her thumb. 

Yaz can hardly stifle a laugh. “Like a proper married couple,” she drapes arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer so she can talk in your ear. Something regarding the Doctor and how cute she is when she acts like a little child. 

“Hey— Stop speaking behind my back!” The Doc chastises, a finger pointed at the two of you. 

You both sealed your mouths at once, by pressing your lips in a thin line. Your eyes, though, kept brimming in amusement. When the TARDIS finally landed, electricity cracked and the floor vibrated for a second. 

“Alright, fam!” The Doc exclaims, taking a rapid look at the screens. “Are ya ready?” Excitement rising through her. Her beautiful hazel eyes, as always, glimmer with sheer delight in the prospect of a new adventure. You can quite never grasp their true color if you’re honest. Sometimes they are hazel, some other times lighter than that, almost green, whereas in the golden lights of the TARDIS, they turn into the same shade of the stars. 

You stalled for a moment, when the TARDIS’s door opened. You give a peek from afar, while Yaz catapults herself outside. It’s not that you don’t trust the Doctor, because you did on a percentage of 90%. Nah, maybe 75%, that turned into a solid 80% on a good day. 

The Doc is standing outside, hands in her pockets and eyes on you. “Do you wanna come out or not?” She asks rather impatiently, eager to show you around. 

You scrunch up your nose. Yaz could almost read your mind as you carefully looked at the screens to figure out where exactly you landed, however it was quite complicated to decipher those maps that for all you knew could portray anywhere and nowhere in the world… universe. “Shouldn’t we double check? You know, last time there were sea devils,” you say, your tone not accusing at all. Almost. Not quite. 

The Doc merely rolls her eyes. “I apologized for that, didn’t I?” You loved how despite her being a hundred years old, she always managed to sound like a cute little child who didn’t like being said no. It warmed your heart, making you feel all tingly inside. She didn’t know, or perhaps you hoped you weren’t that obvious, but you’d do very much anything for her. And that includes facing the sea devils again if that was really necessary. 

“Plus, we had quite an adventure.” 

“We nearly became fish food,” Yaz argued.

“But we didn’t!”, she grinned from ear to ear as if that had been the greatest achievement. “How many people can put the check on that?” There’s mischievousness in her tone and you can’t help the slow shake of your head. Time Lords.

You three had a unique bond, something you never thought you’d achieve in your life. Not in your late 20s anyway. And even if the price to pay was facing few dangers on a daily basis, you were content with that. The gift of having both Yaz and the Doctor was worth any battle in space, or monster for the matter. You wouldn’t trade your life for anything else. Neither would your best friend Yaz. 

“Those who don’t, can’t understand their luck…” a grin finds your lips. 

Yaz smiles inwardly. “My grandma always tells me to not begrudge other people. Yet at that particular moment it was hard for me to keep the green monster at bay.” 

“I feel ya,” you take a step towards the TARDIS’s door, hands on your hips as you gently, and carefully sway a leg in and out. Tongue peeping through your teeth as you do so. You see the Doctor tapping her foot rather impatiently on the other side. Now she knows you’re only teasing her. But two can play this game. You flash her a daring grin, she immediately reciprocates. 

She reaches out a hand for you to take, wiggling her fingers while doing so. The Doctor emanates light, you think. Or maybe she is light herself. You can’t resist, you give her your hand, but she doesn’t pull yet, she only intertwines your fingers together. So soft. So gentle. 

“Is it safe?”, you inquired one more time. “No monsters of any kind?” You don’t really think it’s dangerous out there. Honestly, looking around you, all you see is a beautiful landscape. Like a natural reserve far from all evils of the universe. 

“Seems like it,” Yaz interferes, moving away towards the sea. 

The Doc takes both your hands now, encouraging you with a soft smile. “Don’t make me carry ya,” it was supposed to sound like a threat, however the possibility didn’t scare you in the slightest. 

She pulls and you stumble to her front, crashing not so elegantly against her, and you yelp, eyes wide open, welcomed by the brightest smile. Hers. When she laughs, you feel her all over you, her hearts echoing against your chest. 

Her fingers brush like feathers against your hips, as she steadies you. “Gotcha, stardust,” nobody looks at you the way she does. 

“Sorry,” you crack a small smile. “Caught me by surprise.”

Her lips twitched in a soft smile. “It’s fine. You’re as light as a feather. But clumsy. Very much so.” 

Your eyebrows shot up at that admission, “is that so?” 

“It’s not a bad thing,” she is ready to clarify, probably concerned you had taken offense. Truthfully you didn’t. “Unless we find ourselves in a life or death situation, that requires no clumsiness whatsoever. But no worries, even if that’s the case, I’ll have your back. Always. Can’t have a universe without you in it now, can I?” 

You blush and croak out. “You’re rambling, Doctor.” 

“Am I? Sorry. You’re easy to chat with. Feels nice. You’re nice.” 

“Thanks,” you say genuinely in awe of her. “I love talking to you as well.” 

It’s her turn to blush, you spot the hue of pink heating up her cheekbones. “Brilliant.” 

You finally step out of the TARDIS, with one of your hands still intertwined with hers. It wasn’t unusual for the three of you to hold hands, while strolling around. A routine you hoped would last forever. 

The doctor keeps looking at you with the corner of her eye to grasp and memorize your reaction to the place. Yaz has already taken off her shoes, eager to feel the sandy ground under her feet. 

“This place is absolutely breathtaking,” you breathe out. 

The Doctor beams at you, “Told ya,” her thumb brushes delicately over the back of your hand, causing your eyes to flee there for a second. 

“Where are we?” Yaz squealed when the soft waves of the sea, crashing against the shore, wet her toes. It’s cold, but a good kind of cold. Refreshing and inviting. 

You chuckle and kick off your shoes as well. 

At that moment, the blonde took the sonic out of her coat to scan the area. Her brows are knitted in a frown as she does that, with the tip of her tongue gently tapping over her upper lip. When your feet touch the water, you feel regenerated at once. The sea is crystal clear, perfect for swimming, you think. 

“Oh, interesting,” your thoughts are interrupted by the Doc’s humming. “Very,” she insists. “Didn’t think we would end up in this timeline, but ah well, you never know with a stubborn time machine as my TARDIS.” 

“You mean we aren’t where you thought we would be?” Yaz inquired. 

“No, no… I don’t think so,” The Time Lady bends down to dip her finger in the sand. You know what’s coming. These unusual things she does remind you she isn’t human, but an alien. A beautiful and silly alien, to be precise, with weird culinary habits. When she puts that same finger in her mouth, Yaz winces. Clicking her tongue, she concludes, “Right place, wrong timeline. Greece, 12th century… No villages nearby. There are living forms though, but luckily for us, no aliens. Probably animals.” 

“So it’s really safe,” you feel yourself relaxing. 

Yaz clung to your arm, rather excitedly, “Unbelievable. We should mark the date” 

The Doc rolls her eyes, while taking off her boots. Humans, really. Always so dramatic, she thought. 

“We are going to spend a normal day at the beach without aliens running after us,” you keep teasing. 

“Oi! Rude!” The Doc pretends to be offended. Her expression is priceless. 

When she tackles you, you walk backwards, ending in Yaz’s arms and let out a giggle. “Who’s rude now?” you raise an eyebrow, in challenge. 

As you and the Doc keep eye contact, Yaz places her chin above your shoulder, “can we swim now?”, with her bottom lip wobbling, it’s hard to deny her anything. 

“I suppose so,” comes the Doc’s reply. 

Yaz squeals and pumps a fist in the air. She later proceeds on taking off her leather jacket, then shirt, dropping those on the shore, remaining only in pants and bra. 

You and the Doc share an amused glance, “She absolutely loves the beach.”

The Time Lady hums and tilts her head towards you, “Don’t you?” Her voice is soft and curious. 

“Oh, I do. Very much.” The Doctor grins at the excitement you’re trying to keep at bay. Your toes wriggles in contact with the water that's now reaching your calf. 

“So, what are you waiting for? Go on!”

Yaz, in the meantime, is calling out for the two of you, calling you snails. The water has reached her shoulders now, and her smile goes from ear to ear. 

You furrow your eyebrows. “Aren’t you coming?”

She smiles and nods, “In a minute.” The Doctor wished to savor the moment for a little longer. She never thought that seeing both you and Yaz so happy could make her feel that way. Nothing compared to that. Not even the space, the galaxies and their colors mingling together in the most incredible shades. 

You lean forward and without a warning, you press a kiss to the Doctor’s cheek. She blinked, partially frozen, but melted right away as you muttered, “Thank you for this.” 

You don’t give her the time to reply, that you start running towards the sea, squealing and laughing at how cold the water feels against your exposed skin. You too are only in bras and shorts. In a second you’re right next to your best friend, and with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she starts splashing water at you, giving you barely time to respond to the attack. 

The Doctor laughs fondly at that. “My fam,” she mutters under her breath. 

To flee from her attack, you dive underwater, swimming behind her. Yaz frowns, not expecting you to pull her by the ankle. Your grip is strong enough to pull her own figure underwater for a second. When she reemergers, she gasps and comes face to face with your mischievous grin. Next thing you feel are her strong arms wrapped around you. Sometimes you forget that she is a policewoman. 

“Let go!”

“I don’t think so.”

She ignores your plea, and dives the two of you underwater. 

Both yours and Yaz’s laughter was music to the Doctor’s ears. She doesn’t even notice the single tear sliding down her cheek, until it tickles and wets her lips. She’s quick to wipe it away, not wanting to ruin the moment in case you two spotted it. She was both happy and sad, she couldn’t explain it. One heart was happy, and the other sad, but she couldn’t quite understand why, not completely at least. 

“Doc!” you called out for her, “Come on in now!”

The Time Lady smiled, “I’m coming!” She drops her coat next to yours and Yaz’s clothes, then removes the suspenders, not wanting to have those in the way. The rainbow shirt goes too, leaving her in sporty bras. Pants fell to her feet, revealing to the two of you the cutest pair of boxers ever seen. 

“No splashing,” she chastises softly. 

You hummed in thought, still admiring her beauty, and hoping to not be too obvious. 

“Can’t promise you that,” Yaz smirks, eyebrows waggling. 

“She’s savage,” you splash Yaz in the face once again. Blinking off droplets of water from her eyes, she darts her eyes from the Doctor to you, humming slowly, “I’ll show you just how much.” Was it a threat, or a promise? Maybe both. 

“Yaz, wait–”

The Doctor huffed in amusement, the moment she pounced on you. 

Humans, she thought, poking her tongue between her teeth and reaching up the two of you, are the most brilliant species of them all. 

[rocksibblingsau]

Can I hear your Bergen thoughts and headcannons?

Absolutely! Keep in mind these will be poorly organized and jump around a bit.

So I know with the first movie there's a lot of 'trolls are drugs' jokes, but the thing is I like exploring this from a serious standpoint. In nature there are lots of plants that naturally have these effects or can gain these effects (think those videos of squirrels eating rotting jack o lanterns that have fermented into alcohol).

It's also not uncommon for some animals to have immunity to the effects of a plant, but consuming that animal would give you that effect. The possibilities of Trolls either just 1. naturally producing a chemical that produces the effects or 2. interacting with something that, while they have immunity to its effects, Bergens don't is VERY fascinating.

So we know Bergens falsely believe they can't be happy, which leads to a lot of questions. How had none of them ever noticed they were happy? Does love not fall under the 'happy emotion' umbrella? How can they tell likes from dislikes if they don't believe anything can make them happy? We know Bridget and Gristle misinterpreted that feeling (which I'll share more thoughts on in a bit), but I think we should consider the likelihood of misinformation.

Chef was doing whatever she could to ensure the continuation of Trollstice to cling to her power and title of minister of happiness. Let's consider what effects a Troll might give a Bergen that they would mistake it for 'true happiness'. Euphoria, lowering stress, mild and pleasant hallucinations, possibly dilating the pupils which might make the world seem 'brighter'. Those things wouldn't accompany REAL happiness, so they would seem like two different things. If you're a random Bergen and the royal chef and minister of happiness feeds you a troll and tells you THATS what happiness feels like, you wouldn't ever assume any other feeling is happiness.

A side note, I like to think that as a side effect, falls, stumbles and accidents go up 300% on Trollstice and it's not really looked into.

Believing Trollstice was the only chance to be happy would be very beneficial to royalty as well. You'd be risking a lot to go against the very people who could make you happy, and you'd likely agree to a lot of things you wouldn't normally as long as Trollstice was on the line.

I think things go further than 'trolls are drugs' and 'government conspiracy theory' though. Emotions are weird things. Happiness can feel like the urge to jump up and down, run around, flap your hands, the list goes on. I noticed that for Bergens to be called 'miserable', a lot of the time they just seem overly apathetic?

Consider this. You feel hungry. It's a feeling your body has that compels you to eat. You eat, and the feeling goes away. Same with thirst, tiredness, etc. These are feelings that give you an urge, you perform the urge and the feeling goes away. Every day you feel those things and do the things they tell you to do.

Then one day you get the urge to jump up and down. You do, but the feeling doesn't go away. It's annoying. It's like a buzzing sound in a previously quiet room. You want that feeling to go away.

What if Bergens 'default' is a sort of empty state? Any emotions they attempt to work through relatively quickly to make the unfamiliar feeling go away, but under the effects of Trolls, they likely wouldn't be bothered by the euphoric feeling. Gristle's first assumption about the happiness he felt was that it was his body trying to tell him about it's physical state.

Part of them 'learning' to be happy would be teaching them what emotions felt like, and not to lean away from them just because feeling them might be new and uncomfortable. Which considering the target audience is of the age where emotions ARE very big and scary and overwhelming could have been a very cool inclusion.

This was very messy, as I'm tired and so bad at organizing my thoughts sometimes, but this is my take on how Trolls exactly effect Bergens and a bit on why Bergens never figured happiness out on their own.

[kaermorhenatnight]

Something real

Astarion x Tav, Tav is afab, she/her pronouns

word count | 2.5k

warnings | act I spoilers; conversation about SA; mentions of the previous sexual encounter, story seems to be going towards another but it doesn't; drinking blood.

A/N | This fic takes place somewhere in the act II, Tav and Astarion had their little hook up after the tiefling party. I see it as another version of the unprompted confession he makes/the talk after meeting Araj Oblodra. I just think that the game focuses on the romance progressions too much and feel like there were things that should have been said (he jumps into being okay with having sex again without any real discussion about boundaries or about what he says in the unprompted confession - or at least it didn't happen in any of my playthroughs) so I wrote this to kinda fix that in my head. I know a lot of people who experienced SA still want intimacy and a healthy sexual relationship is important to heal, but I felt like a lot of discussion was missing in the game (which is understandable, they cannot elaborate on everything)

Read on Ao3 here

As he takes a step towards Tav's bedroll, she raises her head and tenses, but quickly relaxes again when she sees his silhouette.

*

Astarion looks around to check if the rest of the camp is surely asleep before swiftly sneaking into Tav’s tent. She told him he can come by to drink her blood tonight, so he was going to do exactly that, but he would still prefer their companions didn't know about their little agreement. 

“Hi.”

“I thought you’d be asleep by now. Did I wake you up, darling?”

“No, I couldn’t sleep. A lot is happening around us, you know.” She rubs the corners of her eyes.

“I guess I understand.” He shifts his weight nervously. “So, can I still…?”

“Sure, I said what I said. Just please, be quick.”

“Of course, dear, I wouldn't want to take too much of your night.”

Astarion kneels next to her, one hand slipping under her neck to hold her head still, gentle fingers grazing her skin. His other arm reaches to her side to stabilize himself over her. As he does that, his fingers drag, probably accidentally, against her stomach towards her pubic bone. Even through a shirt, his touch burns, sending shivers through her skin. His closeness, his touch, his smell, stir feelings inside her that she is only recently becoming brave enough to admit.

Tav remembers how they sneaked out after the celebrations with Zevlor's people. How ridiculously good Astarion looked in the moonlight, leaning over her, how he whispered sweet praises in her ear while he fucked her numb. When she didn’t even know he was a vampire and he gently nibbled at her neck, grazing it with his teeth. Now she knows he was showing a lot of restraint that night. Restraint, she almost wishes he didn’t have. 

And now he was over her, fingers twisted in her hair, face reaching towards her exposed neck, the memory of pleasure he gave her and yearning for a pleasure he could give coursing through Tav's entire body and forcing a sharp inhale as she tenses to hide the excitement and warmth accumulating in her abdomen.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, his lips curving into a smug smirk.

“Yes, just get on with it.” Tav's hands form into fists to focus some of the tension and blush of embarrassment creeps on her face.

“Darling, what did I do to excite you so much?” His hand slips from under her head and he playfully strokes her increasingly red cheek with his thumb. She doesn't have enough willpower not to lean into his touch, feeling more and more blood just flooding her face and loin. “Are you so eager to have me bite into that darling neck of yours?” He chuckles. “Or maybe it’s something else you want from me?”

He moves from her side, grabbing and decisively moving her legs to place himself between them and wrapping them around his waist as he leans over her. “Maybe, since you were so kind to let me... dine with you… And we are in a rather intimate setting,” –he glances to check if the flaps of the tent are enough to obscure them from prying eyes of their companions should they wake up– “I can do something to make it worth your while.” He rolls his hips gently, putting pressure between her legs, right where she needs it.

A sigh that Tav tries painfully hard not to turn into a moan, stumbles from her mouth. She looks up at him. 

He is just… so pretty. His hair, in a seemingly chaotic disarray, that he in fact spends a lot of time combing it into and securing with some kind of magical cream. It's truly impressive he learned to do that without any mirror. His eyes, burning red, glistening in the dim light of the singular candle in her tent.

His eyes.

There is sadness and a silent resignation in them that wasn’t there just a minute ago, when he was leaning down to bite her. He was flamboyant, relaxed, and a little bit excited. Now he is looming over Tav, his growing erection pressing against her and yet he seems… defeated. 

He doesn’t really want it. He is just afraid she will punish him, even if just by rejecting him, if he doesn’t do it right now.

“You know you don’t need to do this?” Tav slowly gets up, forcing Astarion to sit back on his heels. 

“Oh, but I want to.” He gently caresses her cheek, thumb dragging down her bottom lip. “I want your pretty mouth to scream my name.” Now that she knows what to look for, she can see how forced his smile is. She moves back a bit, so he's not between her thighs anymore.

“Do you? Or are you just afraid of what would happen if you say you don’t? I didn’t offer my blood to you to get something in return. I did it because I want you to feel strong. And comfortable.”

Astarion looks at her with visible surprise and confusion like he never imagined the possibility of anyone doing a nice thing without expecting something in return. Or, more specifically, like he never imagined anyone doing it for him. And, like no one ever made sure he actually wanted to be intimate.

“Look,” Tav presses her fingers to her eyes, to ground herself a little and focus on forcing all of the remaining arousal out of her body and mind. “I don’t want you to fuck me because you think you have to. I offered to let you bite me tonight, so let’s do just that. I’m sorry for my reaction earlier, I–” She takes a deep breath. She needs to choose her words carefully. Astarion looks at her, tense, brows furrowed. “In other circumstances, I would love to share a bed with you for the night… but not like that. Not with you feeling forced to do it. You should never feel forced to do it.” She grabs his hands and gives them a sympathetic squeeze.

His eyes wander on her face, trying to read her, like he is trying to figure out where’s the trick, what is she trying to achieve, in what way is her kindness just a decoy. It’s Cazador, still whispering into his ear. That he’s not a person. That his wants don’t matter. That he cannot say “no” and he can never refuse.

“Come on now, Astarion.” She lies back down, turning her head slightly to expose her neck. She really wants to make him understand that he does have a choice. He is free now. And she will not reject him or change her opinion on him for setting a boundary. Because despite his meticulous attempts at being an unbearable asshole to everyone around, she cares about him. She can see his trauma. And she is not going to contribute to it. “I invited you to eat. So eat. We can have sex another time. If you want to.”

“I–” he starts, but his voice seems to get stuck in his throat. “Thank you,” he says finally, his shoulders relaxing, his face softening. 

He resumes his position at Tav's side, and bites into her neck. A familiar sharp cold pain hits her and weakness swirls in her head. After a moment he lets go of her, and sits back. A drop of her blood dribbles down his chin. He shoots her a charming smile and licks the corners of his mouth, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

"Delicious as always."

"You know how to make me blush," she says breathlessly, knowing well that right now her body doesn't really have enough blood to spare some for her cheeks.

She expects Astarion to say his goodbyes and leave but he just sits there, staring at her. Maybe he still worries that I expect something from him, she thinks. She needs to let him know he can leave, nothing is expected or required of him.

"I think I will have an easier time falling asleep now, feeling a bit dizzy and all. So goodni-"

"Can I stay?" he interrupts. Eyes wide, mouth slightly open, like a lost puppy. "Just stay in your tent. I don't want to be alone."

"Of course." Tav smiles and wants to reach for Astarion's hand, but stops half way. "Do you… want to cuddle?" He doesn't sleep, really, so she's not sure what exactly he wants to do. Maybe just sit in the corner, reading a book.

"Yes, please." He whispers and without further encouragement crawls onto Tav's bedroll throwing his arm around her to pull her down with him. "Goodnight, Tav."

"Goodnight, Astarion." She rests her head on his shoulder and quickly drifts away.

"Hey, Tav, Gale made killer eggs for breakfast, better hurry if you want–" Karlach pushes away the flap of Tav's tent and stops in her tracks as soon as she sees Astarion raising his head, before Tav shakes off the rest of sleep to sit up. "Oh, shit, sorry. Erm, didn't mean to interrupt. I– will leave now." She swiftly backs out, but pokes her head back inside for a moment just to add: “Nice!”

"Well, good morning, Astarion" Tav laughs, and stretches her arms.

"Did you sleep well?" He stays down, head propped up on his elbow, with his usual flirty smile.

"Very well."

"Glad to hear it."

They just look at each other, smiling, breathing in this intimate moment. 

Suddenly, Astarion sits up, puts his hands on Tav's cheeks and places a gentle kiss on her lips.

“I wanted to thank you,” he says, pulling away.

“For what?”

“For last night.”

She understands, even if he doesn't know how to vocalize what he means exactly.

“I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do.” 

“It's a novel concept, I admit. And a little intimidating. I wasn't entirely honest with you. That night, in the forest. You… you asked what I wanted. And the truth is, I wanted protection.” His posture goes back to the carefully curated smug, confident one, to mask the vulnerable position he is putting himself in. “People don't usually trust vampires, perhaps understandably, so I needed someone on my side. And seducing you was easy, frankly. So imagine how stupid I felt when I started to… genuinely… feel something for you."

Tav bites her tongue to not show that she is sincerely hurt a little by that confession. She knows where he is coming from, she knows his history, but it still stings.

“Trust me, I was not happy about it,” he continues.” You're a… complication, I didn't see coming. And yet…” He pauses for a moment. “Last night was the first time I was told I don't have to do something I don't want to. Especially of sexual nature. I really appreciate that.”

Tav touches his hand gently and he immediately tangles his fingers with hers.

“Cazador has no power over you now. It's not fair how many things you were forced or pressured to do. I care about you. Deeply. And I would love to have something more with you. More than friendship. But if our nights together was something you had to endure and not something you really wanted, then I regret it ever happened.”

“Well, it's not really nice to hear you regret having sex with me.” Astarion tries to laugh off the seriousness of the situation, but fails, as his voice breaks a little. “I spent two hundred years using my body to lure pretty things back for my master. What I wanted, how I felt about what I was doing… it never mattered. And… being close to someone, any kind of intimacy was something I performed to bring people back for him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust and loathing. I don't know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I'd like to.”

“I want to be intimate with you, Astarion. But only you if you really want it. Not when you do it out of fear.”

“I– I would also like that. But… I don't think I'm ready yet.”

“Of course. And just so you know, it's also okay if you're never ready.”

He looks at her surprised.

“Would you… Really? You would still want to… have something more with me, if sex wasn't even on the table?”

“Of course.” Tav smiles and strokes his cheek. 

“Why?”

The confusion on his face seems sincere. Not because he wouldn't want to be with Tav if she didn't want sex, but because he can't really see himself as worth more than what his body can offer in the end.

“Because” –she leans closer, taking his hands into hers, gently tracing patterns on his palm with her thumb– “as gorgeous as that body is, it's not all that you are. You are intelligent. You are funny. You are sensitive. I love being around you. You are curious and you want to live. And I want to help you live. And live with you.”

Astarion just looks at her, processing what she just said. He swallows loudly, pressing his lips tightly together to hide the tremble of his chin. 

“And you shouldn't have thanked me for what I did,” she adds, firmly. “Asking for consent shouldn't be something you're grateful for. It's the bare fucking minimum, okay?”

He nods weakly. She can see he doesn't fully process it and doesn't fully believe it yet. But she hopes one day he will.

“But surely you–” he shakes his head, still not grasping at what she is trying to say. “You still have your needs. I wouldn't be offended if you wanted to take another lover–”

“Astarion. I am not a wild animal. My genitals don't dictate what I think or feel. I think with my brain. And feel with my heart. And my heart is yours. If you'll have me.”

“I–” he pauses for a moment, staring at the ground and then raises his head to lock his eyes with hers. There's hope in his gaze. Warmth. Adoration. “I would love that. I would love to have–” he pauses, scrunching his face, as if the phrasing bothers him. He quickly corrects it. “For us to have each other. To have something real.”

She leans forward and pulls him into a hug. Just a hug. No hands wandering around looking for sexual pleasure, no lips searching for his lips, no tension. Just a warm, soft hug. He is slow to reciprocate it, his hands just frozen in air, but when he does, he holds her tight.

When Tav finally pulls away from the hug, Astarion seems to tremble a little, reluctant to let go. She stands up and offers him her hand. “Let's go before they eat all the eggs.” 

He accepts her hand and lets her help him get up. He doesn't let go of her, until they sit down at the campfire and she needs her hand back to hold a spoon.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

✩ Astarion Gaining Back Reader’s Trust ✩

Anonymous asked: hello! Your requests open? I'm terrible and hoping for some angst, but a good ending? What if when Astarion is telling the female reader (that he developed real feelings for her) about how his original plan was to manipulate her, she cuts him off instantly, upset, and feels used? Maybe she dealt with this before and she's now very upset with him and doesn't trust him so he has to prove it to her?

A/N: Ooh yes! Angst with a happy ending is my middle name! Did I check this before posting? Lol, nope, I did not! If you see any grammar mistakes, give me a holla. Otherwise, please enjoy!

(I am using this format because my inbox is still unavailable to me so I copy and paste the asks directly into posts in order to answer.)

✩

When Astarion confesses his original plan was to use you for protection against Cazador, to seduce you into trusting him, you can't help but feel hurt. It feels like someone shoved a dagger into your heart and then dropped it into your empty stomach. You feel physically ill, that the man you had thought you’d come to love, and who loves you in return, originally planned to use you like that. 

You can’t even bear to listen to what else the pale elf has to say before you cut him off with an angry flourish of the hand. You’re too raw, too blindsided to care about any explanations or excuses. You can’t even look at him right now. You tell him to fuck off before scampering away from the camp to cry your embarrassed tears in privacy. 

To think that you would ever fall for such a ruse again stings you to your very core. You thought you had learned your lesson years ago, the first time you were spurned. A few years ago, when you were much younger, a handsome, somewhat older fellow had come onto you. He said such sweet flowery words and was so attentive and captivating, that you couldn’t help but fall for his charms. You had every intention of running away with the man like he asked. The eve before your departure, however, you caught him in the act with another younger woman you initially thought to be your friend. You couldn’t believe your eyes. How could he do this to you? How could she? 

You later learned, through a mutual acquaintance, that this so-called gentleman was truly only interested in your friend, and had buttered you up just to find out what he needed in order to talk to her. You were devastated. You felt used, and gross. You felt like no one would ever love you for you, only for what you could do for them. That mistake, that pain, haunted you ever since. 

And now there was Astarion. You were so torn. On one hand, he had owned up to his original plan to your face. It’s not like you found him in bed with another party member. And he had been quite vulnerable with you, opening up about his tormented past under Cazador’s thumb. Perhaps you were being too harsh on him. 

Then again, you felt your heart squeeze in your chest, and a hot flush of shame crawled up your beck and cheeks as fresh tears started to fall. He did make you feel this way, even if it wasn’t intentional. And now that you knew what you knew, you could never go back to exactly the way it was before. 

You returned to camp hours later, eyes clearly bloodshot. If any other party members had heard the dispute between you and Astarion, they said nothing. Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw Karlach shoot you an empathetic look, but you couldn’t be sure. You were doing your best to avoid making direct eye contact with anyone. You didn’t think you could keep yourself composed if you were to look directly at them. It would show in your face, how hurt and upset their supposed ‘fearless’ leader was. And you didn’t want that. 

You hurried into your tent, before pulling the opening flap closed behind you. But in your haste to do so, you failed to notice you had a guest. 

Astarion, clearly downtrodden, sat on one of your bedrolls, a depressed-looking Scratch resting his head on his lap. 

You wanted to yell at him, to tell him to leave, but the way he was crumpled over made you pause. You supposed it couldn't hurt to hear him out. 

“Darling…” Astarion started before catching himself. “(Y/N),” he started again, “I wanted to explain. I should have been more… careful in my choice of words.” He made a move to reposition, but Scratch whined, preventing Astarion from standing. With a pleading gaze, the vampire looked at you. 

Sighing, you kneeled taking a seat opposite Astarion. You fiddled with a loose hem of your blouse as you waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, you took it upon yourself to continue the conversation. 

“What you said, it hurt me you know,” you spoke slowly, trying to pick the most neutral of words to describe what happened. “I mean, my newfound understanding hurt me.” 

You looked up to find a pair of sorrowful red eyes watching you intently. 

“I thought,” you began again, “After what we shared, after all you told me, that what we had meant something.” 

“It does!” Astarion interjected, clearly wounded by the implication your relationship had all been a lie. “I do… feel for you. I do want to be with you. I don’t just see you as a means to an end.” 

“But you did,” you countered. “You admitted so yourself.” 

“Yes,” Asatrion sighed, running a hand through his hair. “But I need you to understand. When we first met, I didn’t know who I could trust. I thought if you knew the truth about me, about what I was before the parasite, you would kill me. I was walking in the sun, I was acting on my own, I was free of his, Cazador’s pull. I spent years dreaming of that moment, and it was finally here.” 

“Then why plan to use me? To use us?” 

“I… I thought I had to. I thought I had no other choice.” Astarion confided, his voice low. 

You nodded. “I see. So your first moment of freedom was just a facade,” you spoke bitterly. 

“No. With this thing in my brain, Cazador’s voice-”

“I’m not talking about him!” Frustrated, your palms hit your thighs. “I’m talking about you! The first moment of freedom you have in years, and what do you do? You go right back to lying and manipulating, even though you didn’t have to!” 

Astarion scoffed. “Oh? And how was I supposed to know that? Because we were all strangers on the beach infected with the same parasite, I’m supposed to assume you’d take pity on me? You could have killed me!”

“And you almost killed me!” 

Hearing your argument develop into a screaming match, Scratch hastily pushed his way to his feet and nuzzled his way out of your tent. Feeling remorseful for scaring Scratch away, you sighed again. Across from you, Astarion did the same. 

“It’s the only thing I could think to do, the only thing I knew how to do. Lie, lure, sleep with… You changed all that.” 

You shook your head. “I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s enough.” 

“What can I say? I am truly sorry, you know. I only did what I thought I had to. I couldn’t have known that I would, well,” Astarion stopped mid-sentence as if the rest of his thought was obvious. 

“Well, what?” 

“Fall for you,” Astarion tilted his head to the side. 

You did always find that little behavior cute. It was as if he was offering his own neck up to you, like a dog showing its belly, telling you he was capable of being vulnerable. 

“I didn’t think I’d fall for you either,” you confessed. “Seems neither one of us knew what to expect.” 

“Yes, a mind flayer parasite seems to be quite the omen for unpredictable things to come.” 

You laughed, happy to hear his voice return to its usual witty tone. “You could say that again.” 

The two of you sat in that heady moment, letting the anticipation casually run out. 

“I still don't know if I can trust you. I want to, but I’m not sure.” 

“I think I’d be more worried if you did trust me, completely that is.” Astarion gestured for you to come to sit beside him rather than across from him. You relented, crawling over the blanket on the ground, feeling prepared once again, to shoulder that degree of intimacy. 

“It will take time,” you admitted, nuzzling into his chest. 

“Of course,” Astarion spoke gently into your hair after inhaling your calming scent. “I would not expect you to accept anything less.” 

Over the next few days, you found Astarion to be much more attentive, and more curious about your thought process and decision-making. A part of you, the insecure voice inside your head was nervous, certain he was searching for information to simply use to his advantage. Another part of you, your heart that loved him, was touched. 

If the last miscommunication had made anything clear, it was that the two of you weren’t all that knowledgeable about each other. Sure, you knew a handful of each other's deepest and darkest secrets, but not the other’s favorite color. You imagined, should you and Astarion have met under different circumstances, those would be the sort of subjects you’d discuss the most before promising yourselves to each other. 

You were doing what you could to be more present as well, choosing to spend your nights at Astarion’s tent, not for sex, but to just be in his company as he unwound from the adventures of the day. For hours after, if you weren’t too exhausted, you’d stay up just talking to one another. Not about your faults or the shame from your past, but your experiences from the day. 

Astarion made a point of telling you every time he lied or told a half-truth to someone within the party, and you made a point of promising him to not tell the others. It made you feel secure, that he was trying his hardest to be truthful with you. And it touched your heart, how longer the days went on, the less he had to confess. 

The more time you spent with one another, the more your relationship fell into place, and it became clear: the truth was nothing either one of you had to fear. 

✩

If You Liked, Please Reblog!!! Likes are nice but reblogs help the most! 

✩

[sergeantsporks]

Writin Request: Gus & Hunter going to a convention!

“Alright, important things to remember before we go in.” Luz held out her arms to block Hunter and Gus. “Number one: If you see a panel or table labelled as ‘meet the voice of,’ then they are a voice actor. Do not be disappointed when they don’t look like the character, because they just lent their voice. Number two: if you go to a panel or table for a live action actor, please, please, please remember that they are ALSO not the character. They are just someone who was paid to pretend to be the character.”

Hunter rolled his eyes, pushing at her arms. “We know how acting works, Luz.”

“Yeah, I’ve been in school plays before, and I know I wasn’t actually a tree,” Gus scoffed, then side-eyed Hunter. “Wait, how do you know how actors work?”

“Okay, okay,” Luz conceded, “One more rule. This one is the most important one, don’t forget it.” She grabbed the fronts of Hunter and Gus’ costumes, looking them deep in the eyes. “Do not. Do not, do not, do not. Start comparing your cosplay to someone else’s. The saying ‘comparison is the thief of joy’ is never truer than at a con. If you see a nice cosplay, just think to yourself ‘wow that cosplay is so good!’ Do not start thinking ‘my cosplay is terrible compared to theirs.’ It will kill you. Do you understand me.”

“We understand,” Hunter and Gus chorused, and finally, Luz released them.

“Okay! Have fun! Check all the booths before you make any purchase decisions. You will go over budget, just accept this.”

“Are you adding more rules?” Gus asked.

Luz flapped a hand at them. “No, no, no, I’m done. Amity and I will meet you up at the front at noon, okay?”

“Okay,” they chorused, and finally, Luz was gone, disappearing with Amity towards the Azura actress autograph signing.

“Pfft,” Gus said once she was gone, elbowing Hunter, “Like anyone’s cosplay is going to be as good as ours anyway. You are actually a clone! What O’Bailey cosplayer can compare to that?”

“Yeah!” Hunter agreed, “And your headset? I mean, it lights up! Who else is going to have a costume that lights up?”

“Oh, hey—”

A hand closed on Hunter’s shoulder, and he grabbed it, reflexively flipping his unknown assailant over with a thump on her back. A freckled girl dressed in science officer blue frontier cosplay blinked up at the ceiling with a groan.

Hunter dropped her wrist. “Oh, no. No, no, no, I’m sorry, I—”

She wheezed in a laugh. “No—no, that was awesome.” She scrambled back to her feet. “Whew. Surprised me, but honestly? Points for the dedication to character! I should have known better than to sneak up on O’Bailey! He might be an engineer, but—”

“Duplicant battle protocol makes for one hell of a punch,” Hunter and Gus quoted with her. She lapsed into more giggles.

“Exactly.”

Hunter looked her up and down. He recognized the uniform, but she’d affixed a Duplicant communicator to her ear, and wore bracelets engraved with lettering he recognized from a one-off planet. “Who are you? I don’t recognize your character.”

“Oh—well, of course you don’t.” She twirled, revealing that her uniform flared out into a skirt at the end. “I’m my own original character! Shaari, the result of a Duplicant defying protocol and having a child with a Mergarave. I’m a double agent.” She winked. “But I won’t say for who.”

“That’s creative,” Gus told her warmly, “The Mergarave had such a neat design—it was a shame we left their planet so soon.”

Shaari—whatever her real name was—nodded emphatically. “I know, right? Anyway, I just wanted to say that I really like your cosplays. Are you going to enter the costume contest?”

“Costume contest?” Hunter and Gus echoed.

“Yeah, the Cosmic Frontier panel holds one every year, since it’s so difficult to get one of the actors in. On account of, you know. Most of them being either really famous or really dead. Anyway, they have a group category, and first prize is a signed box set of the original Cosmic Frontier trilogy. Mint condition. Original characters aren’t accepted in the group round. We have a separate category. But you two should totally sign up. I think you’ve got a real shot at winning. It was nice meeting you!”

She wandered off, jogging to join a friend wearing a Cosmic Frontier T-shirt, and Gus grabbed Hunter’s arms.

“Hunter. We have to win that box set. Camila will love it.”

“I know.” Hunter started towards the galaxy-themed banner he could see in the distance. “She said to bring her back a sticker or a pin or something—can you imagine if we come home with a mint-condition signed copy of the Cosmic Frontier original trilogy? We are going to win at comic-con.”

“Oh, yeah. Costume contest, here we come, baby!”

A bored-looking con employee waited at the Cosmic Frontier table, sign up sheets in front of him. “Original characters here, solo costumers here, and group costumes here,” he monotoned, gesturing to three different pieces of paper, “The competition is judged on both the quality of your costume and how well you portray your character. We’ve only got about ten more minutes until the morning competition starts, so please hurry.”

Hunter signed he and Gus’ names on the group competition list, and the employee jabbed one thumb at the door behind him. “Wait in there, you’ll be called in order.”

Hunter and Gus found themselves in a long hallway, covered with black tarp dotted with glow-in-the-dark stars. Just ahead of them, a much larger group of young adults laughed, elbowing each other.

“Try again,” one of them in a blue uniform encouraged.

“I’ll get it on stage!” their Captain Avery protested, “I just can’t take it seriously in practice with all you guys making faces at me.”

Hunter stopped, hissing in, and Gus bumped into him. “What? What’s the matter?”

“Maybe… maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”

“What?”

“I mean—I just—” Hunter gestured ahead of them. “Look! They’ve got the full bridge.”

“There wasn’t a rule on how many members you needed.”

“I know, but…” Hunter gulped. Even in the low light, he could see the quality of their costumes, and it made him painfully aware of the stitches still showing on his. “I mean… just look at them.”

As if to emphasize his point, their O’Bailey hit a switch on his headset, and the whole thing lit up with a whoosh, the red eye glowing dully in the dark. When he moved his arm, it clicked gently.

“They’ve got better costumes—they’ve got better gear—they’ve got the whole bridge—and they go up before us, Gus. We’re going to look ridiculous after them!”

“Well—hey—no. Remember what Luz said? Comparing costumes is not something you should do at cons.”

“Gus, we’ve just entered a costume contest. The entire point is that people will compare our costumes! We’ve entered a zone outside of Luz’s rules!” Hunter ran a hand through his hair. “I haven’t seen anyone come in after us, either! We’re going to go last, after these guys, and then there will be no one after us to make them forget how mediocre we were!”

Gus’ hand landed on his arm, giving it a squeeze. “Hey—Hunter, deep breaths. Deep breaths. It’s not just about how good your costume looks, remember? We’ll go up there, we’ll do the Astral Oath, and we’ll get it on acting. Piece of cake.” He nudged Hunter’s arm with his own. “For the boxed set, right?”

“For the boxed set,” Hunter repeated, but suddenly, the boxed set didn’t seem so attainable. “Okay. We can do this.”

The line moved slowly. Hunter could hear people ahead of them performing their characters, some strong and confident, and others barely managing to stumble out a “beam us up” before running offstage. But finally, the group ahead of them moved onstage, and Hunter could see out into the auditorium. Everyone who’d already gone had found a seat, adding to the number of people watching. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck.

For the boxed set.

“Cosmic Nerds?” the announcer called.

The full bridge rushed to center stage. Hunter watched, open-mouthed, as they pulled over to their respective bridge spots on the stage. The blue-uniformed one shook their head. “I don’t think the ground team is making it out of this one, Captain,” they sighed, “Logically, our best option is—”

The Captain Avery cosplayer straightened up, arms behind her back. “To leave them behind? No. Have you forgotten? Our crew is family. No matter who we are, or what we are, we love and protect each other.”

“Through supernovas, and solar winds,” the rest of the bridge chorused with them.

“Exactly. Now let’s get our family back.”

They rushed off the stage to thunderous applause from the audience, and Hunter’s stomach dropped. Captain Avery really had done better when on stage. And they’d performed the Astral Oath—if Hunter and Gus did that now, they’d just look like copycats.

There’s no way we win this.

Hunter started to back up, but then he and Gus’ names echoed from the front, and Gus stepped forward, accidentally tromping on the back of his heels, and before Hunter quite knew what he was doing, he was out on stage, with dozens of people staring at him, and a mic in front of him.

“Go on,” Gus whispered encouragingly, “Give me something to start the oath.”

“Um,” Hunter squeaked, and the mike screeched, making everyone in the audience wince. Hunter took a step back, ignoring Gus’ confused glance. His heart pounded in his ears. The stares of the audience bored into him, every single pair of eyes another judgement.

Say something

Say something

Say something

“Hey, everybody.”

Hunter blinked. Gus had taken the mic. He winked at the audience. “I know, breaking the fourth wall isn’t very in-character of me. But, well, maybe I don’t need to be Captain Avery at the moment.”

A murmur rippled through the watchers. Hunter took a deep breath, watching Gus. What was he up to?

“Cosmic Frontier means something special to everyone here,” Gus continued, “For me—and for Hunter—it found us when we needed it most. Avery, O’Bailey, and the rest of the crew showed up when home was uncertain, when who we were was uncertain, and they told us… well, they told us that even if we never found our way back home, that didn’t mean we couldn’t find our way to a family. And that family could be each other.”

Gus set the microphone back in the stand. “It might not be the Astral Oath, but hey…” he turned back to Hunter, holding out his fist. “I think Captain Avery would be okay if we used our own.”

A grin spread over Hunter’s face, and he bumped fists, elbows, and foreheads with Gus, both of them making an explosion noise.

“Captain Avery and Chief Engineer O’Bailey, beaming out,” Gus said into the microphone.

Hunter heard a piercing whistle and cheer as he walked off the stage. Shaari gave the two of them a big thumbs-up from the audience, her cheer setting off a wave of loud—if not as enthusiastic as the last round—applause.

The announcer took the stage again. “Aaaaalright. That was our last group, so. The judges are going to start their decision-making now. After the winners are announced, we’ll be opening up a vote for the crewmen’s choice. Be sure to scan the QR code and vote on your phone!”

Gus tugged Hunter to the back. “I’m sorry,” he murmured in a low voice.

Hunter blinked. “For what? I should be the one apologizing—I choked back there, I forgot Luz’s rule, I—”

“You wanted to back out. I should have listened.” Gus sighed. “Blinded by the box set.”

Hunter chuckled. “It’s a magnificent box set, to be fair. It’s okay, Gus.” He nudged his friend’s shoulder. “And—hey. Thanks. For what you said back there. It was… nice.”

“And now for our winners!”

Hunter and Gus turned back to the stage, listening impatiently through the solo costumes and original character costumes—Shaari won second and a free cosmic frontier keychain—until they reached the group award. Third place went by. So did second.

“And our first prize winner…”

Hunter held his breath, crossing his fingers.

“…Cosmic Nerds!”

The audience burst out cheering again as the group took the stage again, pausing for a photo, and for their prize. Hunter sighed.

“Oh, well.”

“Camila will be happy with a sticker, too,” Gus assured him, “We should go find her one.”

They wandered out of the auditorium, but before they’d gone far, Hunter felt a tap on his shoulder. This time, he managed to restrain his impulse to throw whoever it was over onto their back, and turned around.

Cosmic Nerd’s O’Bailey stood in front of him. The rest of the group cluttered in the auditorium doors, still laughing and elbowing each other.

“Make it quick,” their Avery called.

“Yeah, yeah,” O’Bailey called back. He gave Hunter Gus a warm smile. “Hey.”

Gus spoke up first. “Uh—hey? Congratulations on your win, man.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks. Um. I wanted to ask… is this your first con? I haven’t seen the two of you around, and the Cosmic Frontier Connecticut con scene isn’t exactly packed.”

“Yeah. It is our first.” Hunter squinted at him. What was his angle? “Why?”

“Thought so. No reason, just wondering.” He smiled that warm smile again. “Your costumes are really good—especially for a first con.”

Gus slapped his forehead. “Oh, MAN, I forgot to turn my headset on when we went out there! It lights up,” he explained to O’Bailey.

“Neat! Yeah, I just wanted to say… you know, what you said up there, that was really neat. I think a lot of us… Cosmic Frontier found all of us when we were vulnerable, and gave us something to hold onto. It gave us hope for something better when we were sweaty, awkward teenagers who no one liked.”

“O’Bailey!” the Avery said with exasperated fondness, rolling her eyes, “Come on, they’re announcing the crewmen’s choice winner!”

“One minute!” O’Bailey smiled after her, his expression softening. “Anyway… the people we met through Cosmic Frontier… well, the Cosmic Nerds are my best friends. They’re family.” A grin twitched across his face. “Anyway, all that to say, I’m glad Cosmic Frontier is still reaching teenagers like I was and giving them something to hold onto, the way it did for me.” He gave Hunter a thumbs-up. “I know what it’s like to be an O’Bailey. Seems like you’ve got a great crew already, eh?”

Hunter smiled despite himself. “Yeah. I do.”

Shaari pushed her way out of the auditorium. “Hey! Avery! O’Bailey!”

“Yes?” both sets answered.

Shaari flapped a hand at the Cosmic Nerds. “You guys already won, geeze. You two! Gus and Hunter! Hey! You won crewmen’s choice! Get back in there, they’re doing a picture, and they’ve got your prize.”

“We won?” Hunter asked, bewildered, “But we—we—”

“Spirit of the character’s sometimes more important than the bookline accuracy,” O’Bailey said with a wink, “Sounds like Avery’s speech did a good job rallying the crewmen.”

“Yes!” Gus fist-pumped the air. “Let’s go!” He started towards the door, then stopped. “Uh—well—Hunter—are you feeling up for it?”

“Of course,” Hunter said, and strangely enough, he meant it.

This time on the stage, the stares of the audience didn’t feel quite so piercing. This time, they cheered, and the announcer shook both Hunter and Gus’s hands, directing them to stand for a photo, and presenting them with a bumper sticker of Captain Avery giving a thumbs-up with the speech bubble “Keep Calm, and Don’t Crash the Spaceship.”

A grin split Gus’ face. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Hunter nodded. “This is going to look perfect on Camila’s car.”