#they pinch

[marlynnofmany]

Irrational Attachment

I directed the delivery guy to put the last high-tech crate next to the others in our very full cargo bay, and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. This was a big order. I noted the final count with a good old-fashioned Earth pencil.

The delivery guy, a fellow human much beefier than I was, smirked at the pencil and clipboard. “Really living in the space age, there,” he said. “Don’t you guys have tablets and scanners?”

“Oh sure,” I replied. “But one has a cracked screen and the other's got a faulty battery. You know how it is.”

His response was eclipsed by the arrival of the sparkly purple conglomeration of limbs that was my coworker Zhee. I was used to bug aliens by now, but I was amused to see the brawny human edge back a step.

Zhee didn’t notice. “What is ‘pack bonding’?” he demanded, clicking to a stop and looking at the two of us expectantly. “They were telling jokes that made little sense.” He waved a pincher arm over his shoulder. “Then it occurred to me that I have a pair of qualified humans here I can ask. Why do people joke about humans caring too much?”

The delivery guy straightened up, all bluster. “Oh, it’s a bunch of radiator wash, really. Lots of species are social. Really, we wouldn’t all have space ships out here if everybody couldn’t cooperate!”

“Well, sure,” I said. “But there’s a difference between cooperating and getting attached. Didn’t you have a teddy bear as a kid?”

“Yeah, as a kid,” he scoffed. “We’re talking about grownups here.”

“Grownups do it too,” I told him, barreling on as he started to object. “We give names and personalities to ships and cars and space probes. We put googly eyes on machinery, and keep pet rocks. We build people out of snow, lending them our own clothes, and we’re sad when they melt away. We have ancient history of granting a bear military rank, and recent history of doing the same to a cleaning droid. We care about things.”

He was still shaking his head and looking stubborn, so I pulled the pencil from my pocket. I held it in front of his face with an intense stare.

“I can tell you that this pencil’s name is Steven,” I said. “Then I can do this—” I snapped it in half. “—And I can watch a little bit of you die inside.”

His expression was that of a person shaken to his core. “What the f— Why would you do that??”

I looked down at the broken pencil. “You can’t tell me humans don’t care.”

Zhee clicked a pincher. “But it’s just a pencil.”

“It was,” I said. “Now it’s Steven.” I pulled a roll of tape from a different pocket. “And now I have to nurse him back to health and apologize.”

~~~

The ongoing backstory of the main character in this book. No pencils were (permanently) harmed in the creation of today's story. 

[faunandfloraas]

[abuglikecreature]

steve being victimised stimboard bc he gives me cuteness aggression

(Edit! i found more sillyness!)

[smalllittlekittyforu]

Just a slut

[artzee534]

screw it, give tails all the headpats

[ponypeople]

Love cat mini figurines 💖

[ahyuggg]

💓💓💓💓

[xi-vz]

Shen Yuan stared up at the man, disbelief clear on his face.

The man before him huffed a laugh, brown eyes becoming crescent shaped with amusement. He was a little taller than Shen Yuan, a little broader, with a sleeve tattoo covering his right arm to his wrist. His dark brown hair was softly curled, more wavy, and a little shaggy, falling to his shoulders. His face reminding Shen Yuan of Binghe. Not a lot, but just enough if he were to tilt his head and squint.

“You’re just a kid.” When the man finally spoke his voice was as smooth as velvet. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen.” Shen Yuan automatically responded as he gawked.

The man had round wire glasses, a piercing on the left side of his lower lip, both ears were pierced, and he had cheekbones that belonged on a magazine cover. He was a little older than Shen Yuan expected. Somewhere in his late-twenties compared to Shen Yuans late teens.

“Cucumber-Bro, come on, I’m not that different.” Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky offered a smile, showing off dimples underneath a days worth of scruff.

“How old are you?” Shen Yuan demanded, still blocking the doorway into the dorm.

“Thirty.”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” Shen Yuan asked aloud.

Seriously, this was the caffeine addicted crack-writer?!

When Shen Yuan had woken up back in his dorm room instead of in bed with his husband in the bamboo house, he immediately contacted Airplane—it was a gamble, but it paid off. The relief Shen Yuan felt when Airplane responded was like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He gave the other man his phone number and address, then waited an excruciating five days until the two could meet. (Because Shen Yuan lived in Beijing, but Airplane apparently lived in Chengdu, and last minute flights weren’t cheap.)

Shen Yuan knew that his friend would look different. Hell, Shen Yuan looked different! A little shorter, a little rounder, way younger. With pitch black eyes, short inky black hair, and an ear piercing. He was pretty rather than handsome, softer than Shen Qingqiu.

And it wasn’t that Shang Qinghua wasn’t handsome—he was! Like everyone else in PIDW. But Airplane?

“Can I come in?” Airplane asked while shoving his hands into his back pockets. He wasn’t dressed fashionably. His beat up backpack was slung carelessly over a shoulder, jeans were ripped due to wear and tear, his faded band shirt was due to too many washes, his sneakers were scuffed. And yet…

Shen Yuan dressed in the latest fashion. He tried his best to look good, he had standards for himself! He looked like a C-Pop star.

Airplane wasn’t even trying to be hot. (WHY WAS HE SO HOT?!)

It shook something inside of Shen Yuan. All of his past theories of Airplane being a troll flew out the window.

“Well?” Airplane looked like he wasn’t above shoving past his friend to get in.

Shen Yuan allowed his friend inside, still shook.

“Shang Qinghua.”

“What?”

“My name, bro.”

“Wait…you used your actual name for the character closest to Mobei!? Fucking Mary-Sue!”

“Ah, there we go, there’s the Peerless Cucumber I know. Although it’s weird to hear such vitriol from a face so cute.”

Shen Yuan felt the blood rush to his face and wished he had a fan in his hands to use as a weapon when Airplane chuckled.

“Come on, let’s try to figure out how to get back home,” Shang Qinghua said as he moseyed to the desk in the room.

Shen Yuan sighed as he closed and locked the door.

BONUS:

SY: I thought you said you were a broke university student who wrote to make sure food was on the table.

SQH: Yeah, dude. I’m working on my dissertation. Writing pays the bills.

SY: YOU’RE GETTING YOUR DOCTORATES?????

SQH: Yeah, in Topology.

SY: YOU’RE GETTING YOUR DOCTORATES IN MATHS?????

[tamatosss]

Little Stardew doodles ⭐️

Which ones are your favourite? Mine are Harvey, Sam, and Penny!!

I also have some extra Harvs and a Shane that didn’t make it into the final drawing. I still like these a lot :3

[wtfforged]

i like when hes squishy!

[pcktknife]

dawg.....what is that

[ihatepannacotta]

Posting this and disappearing for another month.

[pollyanna-nana]

So. It’s no secret that the dunmeshi manga gradually changed art style as it went on (thereby twinkifying a few characters…) but I like to think that, in Thistle’s case specifically, it was also a change in perception by the party. I mean…

Early in the story, when all they knew about him was that he was the creepy, all-powerful mad sorcerer? Probably were much more intimidated by him. Same with the reader. BUT….

By the end? Oh, he’s just a little jester twink who writes poetry and can be picked up and slung around like a bag of potatoes. No way they could take him seriously anymore. Literally this meme but in reverse

Little guyification…

[hansoeii]

I just met david tennant and got to give him my art

[ponypeople]

Love cat mini figurines 💗