#this does make me wonder again what they're going to do for the fourth year anniversary

[quintessenceofdust88]

🎄🎄 The Christmas Book - A Tale in 4 parts: part 2 🎄🎄

(I should be writing the next chapter of Little Blobs and/or finishing Flaming Delights, but this was screaming at me to be written, so I'm guessing Flaming Delights will be a post-Christmas Hallmark movie, and this will be my Christmas gift to y'all.)

Part 1: [2025]

2030

It's five years before Buck and Tommy manage to get Christmas off together again, and the twins are absolutely thrilled about it. They're four years old now, able to understand what it's all about, and very excited about spending the holiday with both their Daddy and Papa.

Tomorrow they'll go over to grandpa Bobby for lunch, but tonight, on Christmas Eve, it's just the four of them. The twins are lying on the floor in their matching PJs (it's a green set covered in gingerbread men that Maddie bought them and it's ridiculously adorable), their bare feet swinging in the air as they make drawings on the Christmas Book.

Buck and Tommy already glued some pictures to their 2030 entry: Stella and Leonardo meeting Santa (Leo had been very wary but polite, calling him 'Mr. Santa' and very sweetly asking for a puppy that Tommy and Buck had agreed he wouldn't get, not for another few years, and he had settled for a plushie one instead; Stella had sat by Santa's side with no fear whatsoever, promptly asked for a Wonder Woman doll and asked how many reindeer would be taking the sled, cause she wanted to leave a carrot for each one); the four of them plus Eddie and Chris in the ice skating rink (Buck had wisely stayed behind under the guide of keeping Chris company, and had taken a lot of shit from Chris himself for it, but it was better than making a complete fool out of himself on the ice. Stella and Leo had been naturals at it, just like their Papa); the kids baking cookies with Jee, Kevin, Denny and Mara.

Now Stella and Leo are adding their own decorations around the photos while Buck and Tommy finish decorating the tree. Every year they promise themselves they'll finish before Christmas Eve, and every year they fail to do so, but Buck has faith that next year they'll manage it.

"Daddy, can I draw ice skates like the ones we used the other day?" Leo asks, his clear eyebrows frowned in concentration.

"Course you can, buddy" Buck encourages distractedly, taking a step back to check the tree.

Some ornaments are not quite where he likes them, because the kids had helped during the whole process, so most of the cuter ones (especially the mickey-shaped ones that the twins got when Bobby took them to Disneyland the Christmas before) are hanging on lower branches. But over the last four years he has learned to value the process over the results, especially when baking or crafting is involved.

"Daddy" Leo asks again, his soft cheek supported by his hand as he looks quizzically at the page. Stella is drawing the fourth out of eight carrots, one for each reindeer like she had promised Santa, and although some of them look less carrot-shaped than others, it's the thought that counts. "How do you draw an ice skate?"

"Um", Buck says, not quite sure what to tell his son, and desperately looks at Tommy. Out of the two of them, his husband is the one with drawing abilities; Buck can't even play Pictionary without people thinking his bird is a car or vice-versa.

"Tell you what, Leo-bear" Tommy says, sitting down on the floor between their twins, groaning as he does so. Buck smirks teasingly at him, mouthing 'old man', and he knows the only reason Tommy doesn't flip him off is because the kids are there, but he might pay for his comment once they're asleep (he hopes he'll pay for his comment once they're asleep). "Why don't Papa draw it and then you color it and add the shoelaces? Those are easier, you draw them like spaghetti"

"Oh, like we drew in the birthday card we sent Nonna?" Leo asks, and Tommy nods in confirmation, taking the crayon from his son's hand and hastily sketching a small ice skate.

"Papa, can you draw one for me too?! And can I color it with my glitter crayon?!" Stella asks excitedly once she sees what Tommy drew for her brother, and Leo gasps.

"I want to use glitter crayons too! Can we, Papa?!" He asks, and both of them turn their puppy eyes at Tommy, which of course means he's doomed.

"Yeah, they're in the playroom drawer. Do you need help getting it?" Tommy asks, and Buck, as always, marvels at how good he is at giving the children their autonomy.

It's something they're both very adamant about. Buck's read about a thousand books about Montessorian education and found out it wasn't actually about raising sad beige babies, but about not doing things for the kids that they can do on their own, fetching their toys being one of them.

"Nope, we got it! C'mon, Stellina!" Leo answers, jumping up and offering his hand to Stella, who eagerly follows her brother down the hallway and into their playroom.

Buck looks at them, these two little wonders of nature they've been raising and that become more and more their own people every day, and his heart feels full. And then he looks at his husband, dutifully drying ice skates for their kids to color, and his heart feels even fuller, if at all possible.

He rummages through the Christmas ornaments' box, mostly empty by this point, until he finds what he was looking for. A branch of dried mistletoe, kept there for the last five years and that it'll still serve its purpose, he's sure.

Buck kneels down besides Tommy, holding the mistletoe over his head, staring expectantly at him until his husband looks up from his doodle and rolls his eyes, though his smile betrays him.

"I think you're tricking me into a kiss, mr. Kinard" Tommy teases, but he's already holding Buck's cheeks with both his hands, pulling him in for a chaste kiss.

Buck melts into it, allowing his lips to linger onto Tommy's for just a while longer. They've been together for roughly five years, kissed at least once every day (which means at least 1.800 kisses, and wow. That's a lot of kissing), and Buck still feels giddy every time they put their lips together.

"Ewwww, Daddy and Papa are kissing!" Leo says, sticking out his tongue, the glitter crayon box held tightly in his small fist. Stella, however, is looking at them with pure awe in their eyes.

"Awww, I think it's cute, Leo! It's like at the end of stories, there's always kissing" She says, looking at the two of them expectantly. "Do it again, Daddy? Please?"

Tommy and Buck exchange a sheepish look, and Buck's sure his cheeks are as red as his husband's. But who is he to deny his romantic of a daughter?

"Since you asked so nicely, Stellina" He teases, and dives in for a chaste kiss that Tommy happily retributes. The background noise is Stella's cheering and Leo's exclaiming 'Grossss', and Buck thinks that if people could explode from happiness, he'd be at serious danger.

"Okay, can we pleaseeee put the star now?" Leo asks once they're apart, and Buck remember he had promised to put the star under the kids' watchful gaze.

"C'mon, mini-menaces, sit here on my lap so we can watch Daddy put the star, and then you can finish your drawing"

"And then it's bedtime" Buck finishes while he rummages the box to get their trusted star out. "Or else Santa won't bring any presents to this house"

@bidisasterevankinard @unhingedangstaddict @silversky9 @music-is-the-voice-of-the-soul 

The threat of no presents is enough to get the kids nodding, and they scamper to sit on Tommy's knees, eagerly watching Buck. This tree is not as tall as their last one, and he won't need the ladder to place the star on top of it. They know the twins would love to help, but their coordination is not that good yet, and both Buck and Tommy have answered enough calls of children hurt by Christmas trees falling on top of them to be properly paranoid. Maybe in a few years.

For now, they are happy to snuggle into their Papa's broad chest and look in awe as their tall strong Daddy places the star on top of the tree. As Buck does that, his eyes keeps drifting to his perfect little family, and he realizes that the three stars he needs are right there.

Tag list (lemme know if you want to be added or removed :) ) :

@asmugfirefighter

@typicalopposite @littlepaws9 @aplaceinme @rubydaiquiri @racerchix21 @dearqueend @laundryandtaxesworld

@buckleyskinards

[egophiliac]

En server is getting Glorious Masquerade and I am also hoping the be cool line is there—-we are also somehow getting the SSR Grim Platinum Jacket for Disneys 100th (which makes me hope they will add Grim to the alchemy lesson rotation because otherwise nobody will be able to unlock the groovy since there’s not stamp quests to get the little lollipop)

AH HECK I forgot Platinum Grim was also this month! dangit I need to reprioritize everything now. gotta save some keys for the boss in his snazzy little suit!

(I think pre-lab Grim you could just buy his candy for alchemy coins, and that's also what they're doing for Rollo, so that's probably what they'll do! someone correct me if I'm remembering wrong though)

[cvnntagious]

ও ⋮ fuckboy!matt headcanons ⸝⸝

all my fuckboy!matt blurbs, fics, and wips : here

fratboy!chris ver. here

⇢ SFW

❒ fuckboy!matt who, like his title entails, is a fuckboy. much unlike (fratboy!)chris, he's quick to entertain girls who throw themselves at him

❒ fuckboy!matt who 'isnt afraid of commitment'

" c'mon, y'think i'm scared of that shit? what's to be scared of? trust me, if i wanted to, i could keep 'er by m'side forever. "

" so... what? you wanna keep playing? "

" playin'? nah, m'jus havin' my fun. why settle down now? "

❒ fuckboy!matt who spends most of his time at the frat with chris

❒ fuckboy!matt who, despite his brother's constant begging, refuses to commit to chris' fraternity

❒ fuckboy!matt who mostly meets girls through chris, whether they're a client of chris' who happened to run into him, or chris sent them his way

❒ fuckboy!matt who is surprisingly top of his classes, taking homework and studying very seriously

❒ fuckboy!matt who does chris' homework

❒ fuckboy!matt who's dormmate is nick

❒ fuckboy!matt who doesn't deal, and actually happens to constantly be on chris' ass about being reckless

" gonna get fuckin' caught with that, " he said, snatching the little baggie from his brothers hand

" don't be a pussy matt, i got people feinin' for that shit—s'good money. "

" nothin' pussy about this, s'for your own good. you ain't heard twelve's out here really searchin' for this shit right now? i'm not bailing y'out, dickhead. "

❒ fuckboy!matt who only really has his brothers at the end of the day, so he allows himself to only care for them and no one else

❒ fuckboy!matt who noticed you in one of his classes on the very first day, but only got the guts to actually talk to you when chris told him to keep you occupied so he could head off with your friend

" we got hella booze, if y'drink, kid... I'll be taking her, and, um- " chris reached over to slap matt's chest as a gesture, " oh, perfect. this's my brother, matt. "

❒ fuckboy!matt who's an asshole and he knows it, not caring how his words or actions affect others (unless you're nick and chris, of course)

⇢ NSFW

❒ fuckboy!matt who was never one to go back for more until he met you

❒ fuckboy!matt who, though he'd never admit it, hasn't so much as touched another girl since he'd gotten you in his bed

" you're seeing other people? "

" na— well, would it be a problem if i were? y'think we're together or sum'n "

" i guess not... "

" s'what i thought. "

❒ fuckboy!matt who's sex drive is crazy, sometimes making you wonder if he ever gets tired

" one more time. just one more, c'mon, i know you can take it, " meanwhile you're spent beneath him, sopping wet and trembling as you struggle to form words from your fourth orgasm

❒ fuckboy!matt who could eat it till he's blue in the face, if you'd let him

❒ fuckboy!matt who always ends up taking control when you ride him

❒ fuckboy!matt who loves when you scratch him, overstimulating you til you can't do any thing but scratch at his biceps or back

❒ fuckboy!matt who refuses to do anything without a condom... until he's drunk and needy, hands wandering as he 'forgets' all about the rubbers sitting in the drawer of his nightstand

❒ fuckboy!matt who'll say things just to upset/piss you off, just so he can fuck all those harsh emotions away

" aww, hurt y'feelings? won't - do - it - again, sweets, promise. "

❒ fuckboy!matt who's always down for a quickie—any time, any place

❒ fuckboy!matt who has no problem trying new positions, but usually sticks to speed bump, missionary, or any version of cowgirl

❒ fuckboy!matt who isn't embarrassed about being loud, not caring who could be hearing him

" fuckkk, sweetheart, keep backin' that into me. "

" ah- shit, oh, y'gonna make me cum. mm-mhm, do that shit again. "

a/n : pretend this didn't take years to get out cs i said i was gonna make headcanons for all my au's ages ago and basically stopped at fratboy!chris...

-love, grandma cvnty ☆!

[yersina]

a linguist* plays chants of sennaar (pt 1)

*i studied linguistics for four years and concurrently did three years of sociolinguistics research, but i'm not currently employed in a linguistics-related field.

[pt 2] [pt 3] [pt 4] [pt 5]

thought i'd have some fun breaking down the languages in cos and stretch my rarely used linguistics muscles in the process! disclaimer: can't promise that i'll have any insights that a layperson wouldn't have, this is kinda just me thinking through the grammar of the language out loud haha.

this post covers the first language and will contain spoilers! it also assumes that you know what each of the symbols means already.

so the three glyphs from the devotee's language that you get introduced to right off the bat already tells me a lot: it's a pictographic logography (real life example: chinese characters), which is probably a good place to start for people who are new to language deciphering (also, none of these languages are spoken so an alphabet would be pointless lol). a logography is a writing system that represents whole words/concepts with a single character, as opposed to representing the sounds that the words make (like alphabets or syllabaries). i haven't completely finished the game yet (most of the way through the fourth language), but i'm p sure 1) all of the languages are logographies and 2) the devotee's language is the most true-to-life with its pictograms.

with these three words we can also begin to establish a pattern--verbs most likely have a line on the bottom, which holds true for the rest of the characters. i think the only exception to this rule is the character for "greeting", which is also used as the verb "salute" later in the game (an interesting choice (considering etymologies for greetings in irl languages), but it makes sense when your language is only 40 words lol). other patterns include the curved line for tools, the semi-open box for structures/locations, and the half-circle with the line for things relating to sight (which amusingly is also the overall game symbol for examining something). (not gonna include things like "man" and "music" and "plant" in this list cause they're defined in game.) i do think it's kind of fun that they introduced "i/me" and "you" before they introduced "man"—it validates that you'll find patterns haha.

(while writing the prev paragraph, it finally hit me that the symbol for "key" is open-tool. isn't that cool!)

i did notice at one point in the game that there was a devotee word that was cut off in one of the stone carvings that looked like it might have been the equivalent for "fortress"--it was the room radical with the two opposing arrows from the word for "warrior". although it's not validated by the game's automatic translation function, it does seem to be evidence that the language elements are fairly flexible and recombinable!

this language is SVO (subject verb object), like english, which again is a choice that makes sense in terms of easing people in. it uses reduplication with nouns to indicate plurality, which as far as i can tell is unique amongst the languages in this game. there's no tense markers, which is common to all the languages in this game (again, as far as i can tell without having encountered the last language yet). given how simple the languages in the game need to be, i'm not surprised that there aren't really auxiliary verbs or indications of infinitives either.

questions that still remain unanswered: - "dead/death", "seek", and "find" all have dots that don't show up in the other characters. not sure why that's the case. could be a representation of something metaphysical? - the character for "go/pass" has a "room" radical on the right side and something else on the left side. wonder if that was intentional

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I've been dreaming of the Spectator of Diamonds.

The stage is wrecked, the crowd is gone. But,,, the show, it must go on. He is both the actor and the audience.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

Cater settles into his seat. It’s cushy and comforting, the pillows almost cloud-like as he sinks down, becoming one with them.

The theater--empty, dark--is his domain, his castle. And he, the lone king atop of it all.

Click, click, click!

He looks up, finding that the stage lights have flared on. Glaring, hot. Four figures stand there in masks--yet he can see the echoes of himself in their verdant eyes, the orange hair cropping out from their false faces.

They are he, and he is they.

The set rolls in, setting the scene. They are wooden cutouts painted over and mounted in wheels or lowered on pulleys. Students in the wings operate them, hidden from the audience's view.

Here begins another story, a series of illusions to craft a beautiful lie.

"There's so much to do before the unbirthday party!" declares Cater the First, a crown upon his head. He waves an ornate staff over his followers, directing their activities. "Chop, chop! Let's hop to it, everyone! There's not a second to waste."

Cater the Second, in a hat and glasses, ferries a towering cake, as fake as the rest of the production. He knows the sponge is styrofoam and the frosting is plaster and paint. Still, he handles the dessert as though it is made of gold.

Cater the Third wrestles with a horde of plastic lawn flamingos and hedgehog plushies. Cater the Fourth, on a stepladder, stringing up a banner. The Third hurries past the Fourth, his foot catching on a foot of the ladder and nearly tripping him.

Righting himself, the Third hollers, "Hey, stay out of my way! Couldn't you have picked a better spot to do your work?"

To him, the Fourth coolly replies, "Not my fault you weren't watching where you were going."

"What was that?!"

"You heard me."

"Say that again to my face, I dare you!"

"I just did."

"Guys, guys! Relax," warns the Second, placing his cake down on a table. "The last thing we need is drama on an unbirthday."

"He's right," says the First. His brows draw together, not yet a full frown but coming close to it. "Drop it and get back to your tasks."

They scramble to each other, a flock reuniting and tending to their kin.

Cater has witnessed this scene many times over. The chaos, the mini-quarrels. From a safe distance, he watches, wearing the usual stitched smile.

Always a member of the audience, never the actor.

A longing ache fills his chest.

He wonders if now is a good time to clap, to interject. Make his presence known somehow.

Cater moves to speak, but doubt arrests him.

No—they don’t need me. They don’t want me there. They’re fine on their own. You’ll only make things worse.

The whispers start.

“Something’s off.”

“Something’s wrong.”

“Something’s missing.”

Cater surveys his surroundings.

The theater is empty, save for himself. It does not silence the voices coming from all corners, their murmur easily filling the room. It’s as though there is a full house, minus the bodies.

Just as hollow as he is.

“It’s fine!" he calls out to Nobody. "I’m sure the show will get better. They know what they're doing."

"It's incomplete," the whispers insist.

"We need you, Cater."

He gasps, his attention returning to the stage. The Caters are gone, their masks and propr lying abandoned upon it.

That sounds like...

"Trey."

Him, and the others. Their dorm leader and the duo of irksome first years are frozen mid-party prep. Trey strolls past them and to the edge of their pretend world,

He crouches down and grins. "What are you doing down there?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm spectating, silly."

"Spectating? That's an odd thing to do." Trey leans, offering his hand. "Come on. Heartslabyul isn't complete without you."

Cater stares. "But I… I like it here. It’s familiar.”

It’s safe.

Trey cocks his head. “But you also want to be up here, with the rest of us… don’t you?“

“You don’t get it. I—” Cater wavers. “I can’t, even if I want to. I just can’t, okay?”

Under the spotlights, they’ll see me for who I really am.

Trey watches him carefully. His golden eyes soften with understanding. "You're scared."

"Who said I was scared?" Cater attempts at a laugh. It doesn't come out quite right, petering out too quickly. "You're imagining things."

"I don't think so." He shakes his head. "This isn't you, Cater. You haven't been you for a long while now. I wish you'd be more genuine with us. With me."

"I am!"

Cater speaks louder than he means to. His exclamation hushes the others in the audience, silencing dissent.

For one long, horrible moment, he sees the sadness reaching Trey's face. The hope draining. Coldness overtakes Cater, and his mind goes to the worst places: his friend turning away, leaving.

His vision stings. He blinks, and the tears blur the world and the people in it, the stage and its actors.

His house of cards, collapsing.

It's over.

From the disparaging silence, a hushed voice rises.

"It's okay. You can be yourself," Trey says reassuringly. He's warm, like a blanket draped over his body. "Smile when you want to smile. Cry when you want to cry. Share it all with us. We'll embrace it."

A tear breaks free from Cater. The magic words, dispelling the dam holding his feelings back.

"Ah... Geez,” he mutters, wiping at his cheek. “Y-You're making me sentimental...!”

“I’d say that’s a pretty good start,” Trey chuckles. “… Hey, Cater. I think it’s about time. You’ll join us, right?”

“Hah. Of course…!”

That’s all I’ve ever wanted.

Cater rises and races to the stage. Slipping his hand in Trey's, he holds tight lets himself be hoisted up.

The ground is firm beneath his feet, the lights drying his tears. His heart drums with exhilaration—it feels so right. Like he belongs.

Up close, he should see the set falling apart. The wooden textures, the peeling paint. But it looks more real than ever, with foliage shifting in the wind and the aroma of roses perfuming the air. The stage, expanding.

Cater walks into the waiting wonderland.

"Found him!" Trey announces to the rest of the cast.

The scene resumes, the characters returning to motion.

"There you are, Cater!" Riddle cries out. "I certainly hope you weren't planning on offloading your responsibilities onto your underclassmen... again."

"Pfft!" Ace fails to contain a mocking laugh, his gaze sliding over to Deuce. "Yeah, cuz what kind of idiot would fall for something like that?"

"Sh-Shut up! You'd have wanted to help out your senpai too if you were there!!"

"No worries. I promise no more tricks this time. I'm... too tired for that."

"Cater?" Riddle takes a proper look at him, then narrows his eyes. "Have you been... crying?"

"Yeah. I think... I'll need a moment, Riddle-kun. Sorry, I'm going through a lot right now.”

It is his truth. The joy, and the levity it grants him, overwhelming.

He's finally among them.

Finally Somebody.

[jediwizard]

Hiiii I was wondering what your top 5 series are because I'm bored and I don't wanna do schoolwork so I'm gonna distract myself with screens

thanks for asking

my ultimate comfort show is friends. I've seen every episode a billion times, but it still makes me laugh and I still feel like I'm watching it for the first time. it's nostalgic and it just feels like home. I would like if there was more diversity tho..

i love how I met your mother (except for that awful ending). its so comforting and the show discusses real problems that young adults face like unemployment, divorce, infertility, losing a parent etc. characters go through real problems that real people face.

heartstopper obviously. again, I feel like I'm mentioning a lot of comfort shows rather than genuinly good shows but heartstopper is just.. so perfect. it is a bit cringe at times but teenagers are actually like that. everyone in that friend group is so loyal and kind and there's no drama and overall toxicness you'd find in most netflix shows like riverdale, elite etc. and I feel like this is one of the first shows I've seen with good queer representation. the paris squad remind me a lot of my friends and I, and we actually watched the show together. and we're gonna binge all of s3 and then talk about it (it's gotten to be a bit of a tradition)

id like to say that I love the owl house, even though I've never officially seen it. I've watched a lot of clips of it on YouTube and I know what happens and whenever I feel stressed or overwhelmed with school work, I'd watch like a 40 minute video of lumity. and I also relate to luz noceda on a personal level. I found out about this show only last year, when it was on it's final season and I was 16. I wish my 12 year old self watched it, because she would have LOVED the owl house and found comfort in this show. watching the owl house at 16 and 17 for the first time shocked me because I felt like my 11 and 12 year old self had come to life (and btw we even look really similar so there's that..). I just started watching Hilda and it's a lot like the owl house and Hilda reminds me of myself too, so idk. they're both really great shows

and lastly i'd probably have to go with stranger things. I love the gravity falls-dark suburban-fall vibe the first two seasons had. season three was really fun, but I didn't like the fourth that much. I also hate how it takes so long for each season to come out. again, I related to robin a lot and I love to play DND with some of my new friends. I started watching stranger things when I was around 11 with my old friends and I remember collaborating on pinterst boards and stuff, so that was fun. i'm going to watch the last season with them too.

ive seen a bunch of episodes of doctor who and some clips on YouTube and I love that. I need to properly sit down and watch Dr. who

superwholock in general is great, but I don't really feel like mentioning spn and Sherlock because of all the queerbating and homophobia surrounding the shows. (sherlock's amazing though)

i should also probably mention derry girls. this show is literally a love letter to the 90s. I guess anyone who grew up in a middle class housegold in the county could relate to this (my mom definitely does). like heartstopper, it's one of those shows that portray teenagers as they are. Heartstopper deals with mental health and self harming, while derry girls is a lot lighter. the characters are so quirky and loveable. and while I was born in 2007, it feels really nostalgic. and it has one of the best soundtracks I've seen in a show. (the best 90s indie like sixpence none the richer and the cranberries so yay)

i know you asked for five, but one day at a time is SUCH an amazing show too. it's about a latina family (grandma, mom, daughter and son) and it's so funny and really informative and just an overall fun family sitcom, but it doesn't shy away from dealing with important issues like racism, immigrant families, growing up in a three generational household, raising a teenager daughter who's a lesbian, being a military nurse and the trauma you have to deal with afterwards etc. elena is a lesbian and she's so nerdy and I just love her so much <333

lastly, probably gilmore girls. it becomes shit after about season 4 and you'll get annoyed by the characters but the first few seasons are really good. it's really cozy and I feel like all the shows that I've mentioned have a similar theme (cozy, autumnal type stuff) and this list wouldn't be complete without gilmore girls.

anyway, that's it. peace out

[not-a-space-alien]

K&J x MMSS 4: Valen & Jim Part 5

Part five of the fourth crossover with @whumpsday!

K&J masterlist

MMSS masterlist

K&J x MMSS crossover masterlist

To be added to the taglist, contact @whumpsday

Warnings for this chapter: Eating disorder talk

In this chapter:

It’s night when Jim wakes, and he's still cuddled up with Valen. The vampire looks so peaceful like this. Jim feels a pang in his heart when he remembers that Valen's going home tonight, all the way back to vampire territory.

He feels a little selfish for it– he has to admit, part of it is that he feels so much safer with Valen here to protect him. No vampire would snatch a human out of another vampire’s arms, not when there are easier humans to abduct. But also… Valen is kind, and pleasant to be with, and that’s something Jim’s been starved of for a long, long time.

Well, they can still keep in touch. Maybe Valen will visit.

As he feels Valen stirring, he murmurs, “How you feeling? Burns a little better?"

Valen stretches and rubs his eyes, delighted to find that when he blinks them open, he can see. The shapes are still a bit fuzzy though, and the room has a haze, so apparently he's only most of the way there. His skin feels almost completely better, though.

"I'm doing wonderful, Jim. I'll be better in no time." He rolls over. "Although I do think I still have a little ways to go remaining, unless you’ve suddenly developed a propensity for being a beige blob."

"Looks like I gotta keep taking care of you, then," he says with a smile and a nudge, getting out of bed. "Let me know whenever you get hungry. I felt like shit after not eating or drinking for 2 days, so I bet you'd feel the same. Don't want you to go through that. Just, uh, not the neck."

The last thing Jim wants is to be fed from, but he’d rather it be him than Liz. Besides, he’s used to it. He’s done it every night for years. It shouldn’t be a big deal.

"Oh, thank you," Valen says. Now he's trying not to think too hard about feeding. "I'm not hungry just yet. Maybe later. Thank you for thinking of it." Change the subject, don't think about it, you can wait and feed at home. "You'll probably be wanting to get medical care today, yes?"

"It's not super urgent. I'll call to make an appointment when it's day, since they're closed by now. Why?" Jim asks. "I know I gotta hand in that jar of ticks."

"Oh, yes." Valen is completely disoriented about when things will be open, and what time of day everyone is going to be active. "I just worry for you, that's all."

"You're sweet. I'm not going to the ER, I'll be fine." Jim shrugs. "Speaking of which, you need anything? A second round of burn cream?"

"I think I'm doing fine. Thank you. Just some more time. Depending on what time it is, I'm not sure if I'll be able to get all the way home before sunrise, and I'd prefer not to be out during the day." He thinks it's probably going to be a while before he works up the confidence again to go outside during the day. "So perhaps I'll stay the night and the day, and then leave at next sunset." 

"Sounds peachy." Jim hesitates. The fact that it's night and Kane might be looking for him makes him nervous, but Valen is here. Valen can protect him. Even if he does get taken back, Valen can probably find a way to bust him out again. The thought calms his jumpy nerves. "Um, do you wanna come downstairs while I get breakfast? I'm..." he starts mumbling, "I feel safer when you're there. But, but if you don't wanna, that's cool too, obviously."

Valen brightens. "Yes, that sounds lovely. Are Liz and Laken still home?" It's been a while since he's been among a group of people he was so desperately interested in getting to know better. He doesn't have any friends who know and accept the real him, and he knows some of these people are queer. He's desperate for genuine connection.

And of course Jim would feel safer with Valen around. Valen had been the only thing in the five years Jim was in vampire territory that had ever been able to ward off being hurt by his captors. It makes him feel warm and protective, and strangely loathe to leave Jim alone despite knowing he's probably perfectly safe now, across the border.

"I dunno. I just met Laken when you did, but Liz told me they're her hunting partner while I was eating yesterday." Jim groans. "I can't believe she's a hunter now. That's so unsafe. Fuck Kane for kidnapping me when he did.” His voice gets more timid, spooked by his own insult. “If he could have at least waited until Liz was more stable…"

"Yes, I do worry for her in that line of work." Valen also worries for himself, just a little. "But now that you're here, perhaps we can convince her to change careers."

"Yeah… Well, I'd assume Laken would go back to their own place? There's no way Liz bailed when I just got back, she's definitely home. Feel free to grab anything you like out of the closet if you want, lemme know if your eyes are still shot and you need help. I'm staying in pajamas."

Valen smiles. "I'll also stay in pajamas. Why not?" He gets up out of bed and pads forward, slowly and holding his hand out, exaggerating his inability to see. "I do think I'll take your hand to help get down the stairs, though."

"Of course, man. I've gotcha." He intertwines his arm with Valen's, helping him down the stairs.

"Hey!" Liz calls excitedly from where she is in the living room, ecstatic to have Jim home. "How'd you sleep? I can't believe you're really home!”

"Slept good," Jim confirms with a thumbs-up. "Me either."

“And hey, looking better, Valen."

Valen also gives a thumbs up. "Feeling a lot better! Thank you, ma’am!”

Liz laughs. "Noooo, don't make me a ma'am, I'm only twenty!"

"Valen's staying the night and day, his eyes are still shot," Jim explains.

She looks to where their arms are intertwined. "Uh huh. I see that. Well, you're welcome anytime, for as long as you want. You brought my brother home.”

That warms Valen’s heart. “Ah, thank you… So, so what's on the agenda for tonight?"

“Um, I dunno, didn't have any specific plans. Definitely not going out. I could make-"

"Have you actually learned to cook in the last 5 years?" Jim asks, eyebrows raised.

"...Kinda."

"I'll handle the making. I missed cooking for you." Jim baps her on the head and goes into the kitchen. He glances back nervously to make sure he can still see Valen, the nighttime putting him on-edge.

"Don't feel self-conscious about it, I don't know how to cook, either," Valen says with a laugh. "I'm not sure I know what to do with myself if we don't have something going on. I'm not good at being idle. And I can't read for a while, unfortunately. Are there any chores that require heavy lifting I can do for you while I'm here? It'd be most efficient, since it's easier for me."

"Yeah, you can help me clean up the other bedroom if you want?" Liz suggests. "It's got a queen. Just so you know."

Valen tries to hide his excitement. "Okay, sure! You'll have to give me directions." He leans into the kitchen. "Jim, I'm going upstairs to help Liz move things. Is that all right?"

"Um, y-yeah." Jim stammers, not entirely alright but not wanting to admit it. "I'll make something quick and bring it up."

Liz, oblivious, takes Valen's hand. "Back up we go, then!"

"O-okay," says Valen, unsure of if he should point out Jim's discomfort and stay downstairs. Since Jim seems to have already made a plan to come up, Valen just lets himself be pulled along.

He can see well enough to get up the stairs without much issue, but he still likes holding Liz's hand. He likes Liz. She's tough, and a woman, and she doesn't seem to care what men think of her. If he'd been presented with the two siblings without knowing anything about either of them, he probably would have actually gravitated towards Liz more than Jim. He wants Liz to like him, but she already seems to like him for bringing her brother back. This is good, he likes interpersonal relationships where the other party feels like they owe him instead of the other way around. Then he can graciously assure them not to worry about paying him back, instead of worrying himself.

They reach the bedroom. The bed is covered in stacks of boxes and other crap, as is a good portion of the rest of the room. Valen eyes the blobs that must be the boxes. He hefts one up. To his horror, he finds that his limbs feel just a bit weaker than they usually do. It's been well over 24 hours since he's fed at this point, and he's starting to get quite hungry. He hates the idea of leaving, though, almost as much as he hates the idea of feeding here in front of either of them. Just wait for a bit, you've gone much longer without eating than this before. Neither of them will notice, they won't think much of it. You're still plenty strong. "Where should I put this?" He wants to say ma'am, but Liz already expressed her negative feelings about that.

Liz also grabs a box off the bed, moving it to stack onto the boxes on the floor. "I figure we can just clear off the bed so it's usable. I gotta go through everything, probably with Jim, and decide what to keep. Then we can grab some sheets and a blanket."

"Easy enough!" He makes quick work of moving the boxes, almost feeling like he's obligated to use his massively superior strength to get done as much as he can. He can't very well go through the boxes for them though. He wonders what's in the boxes, but he politely declines from asking, figuring he can puzzle it out later indirectly from Jim and Liz talking to each other.

Jim comes up with two plates soon enough, handing one to Liz. "Here ya go, mushroom omelet. Oh, that reminds me, I wanted to ask." He turns to Valen. "Why were you collecting mushrooms in the middle of the day anyway? That's how he found me. I was mid-escape and he was like, foraging."

"Oh," he says, blushing fiercely. Why was this so embarrassing to talk about? Probably because everyone told him it was stupid, and he wasn't convinced it would work. "Well, I'm trained in the sciences, and I was collecting them to use in a pet project of mine. There don't seem to be many around, though. They may not thrive at the latitude I was searching."

"Well, if you ever wanna forage in human territory, give me a heads-up ahead of time and I'll make sure hunters in the area know you're chill." Liz says. "You're obviously not gonna take anyone. You did the opposite."

Valen's heart warms at Liz's offer. He has friends, he has friends who like who he really is and help him with things he actually wants to do. "Thank you."

"Ooh, science. What's the pet project?" Jim asks between bites. 

Valen turns to Jim. "Um, well it isn't very far along, but, but, this is a peculiar species of mushroom that produces a substance remarkably similar in structure to hemoglobin. I was thinking that if I could distill it down, I could use it to make an artificial blood substitute to use for feeding." 

"Dude. You have to keep working on that," Liz says, extremely interested. "If you can get something like that working, it could save lives."

"Kane would never go for mushroom blood. He's all about prestige." Jim rolls his eyes. "It sounds super cool, though."

"That's the one that took you?" Liz asks.

"Yeah. Should've heard him when he came knocking at Valen's place. Had a temper tantrum when Valen sent him packing. Oh hey, speaking of blood, you've gotta be hungry." Jim points out. He's not exactly stoked about being fed from, but… it's not Kane this time.

Valen would be gentle, he knows it.

Valen is about to start explaining about how the nobility wouldn't ever accept it, but that it could potentially reduce the impact of the large-scale horror of the blood farms, when the pivot into talking about him feeding sends his anxiety spiking. He hasn't struggled with disordered eating for a while, not since he'd gotten more in control of his own diet, but all the shame and guilt are resurfacing. He can't feed from either of them. They're his friends, he can't see them as food. What if he starts seeing them as food before people? What if he can't go back to blood packs? He doesn't trust himself, it could go wrong in so many ways, especially with Jim.

"That's all right," Valen says. "I'm not hungry." Unfortunately, it's pretty obvious he's lying with the way it comes out, and he cringes.

"Hey." Jim sets his plate down and goes to squeeze Valen's hand. "You fed me. I'm gonna feed you. You're not going hungry in my house. What's wrong?"

Valen bites his lip and shakes his head. "I can't, I-I've never fed directly from a human before. I can't put a name and face to my food."

Jim's spent so long being told he's food, not a person. Valen telling him he doesn't want to make him food because he's a person… he doesn’t know what to make of that. He feels warm inside. "I appreciate that. A lot. How about I get you a cup or bowl or something, 'kay?"

"I-I suppose that would be fine. Just, just maybe do it in a different room, if you don't mind?" He is really freaked out by the possibility of becoming a monster like Kane if he isn't careful. It was one thing to know some human somewhere out there got paid a nice sum to have their blood drawn, which was then made available to his demographic generally. It was entirely different to know someone was right here in front of him and was going to be bleeding and hurting for him specifically. 

He was already one of those people who had trouble accepting help, accepting someone else's flesh and blood is even worse...not to mention it makes him feel like he owes someone else, bodily, which he hates hates hates. He tries not to cry. He would almost rather just go hungry. But Jim had said it so kindly and understandingly.

Jim doesn't like the idea of being in a different room from Valen, but he guesses he'll have to get used to it soon, since Valen's going home tomorrow. He doesn't know how he'll cope being alone at night, without him. Vulnerable.

Valen's reluctance makes him feel safer, though. This isn't like with Kane, taking what he wants with no regard to how Jim feels. Valen treats him like a person. There's no pressure.

"Sure, yeah. Liz, can you supervise?" He definitely can't do this alone.

"Course."

They go downstairs. As Valen waits, the smell of blood wafts up: soon followed by the undeniable sound of crying.

So Jim has overestimated his ability to handle this, after all.

Valen also starts crying, but he's afraid to go downstairs to Jim. He probably doesn't want to be near a vampire like this, vulnerable and bleeding and scared. Valen hates himself so, so much. He wishes he could eat anything else. He wishes he were dead.

A little bit later, the humans come up with a mug of blood, both with bandages on their arms. Jim's still teary, but he relaxes a little when he sees Valen: unbeknownst to Valen, for whom faces are still fuzzy.

Jim hands him the mug. "Order up. Hey, you okay?" he asks, his own voice a little trembly.

Valen takes the mug miserably. He feels sick at the thought of drinking it, knowing how much distress it'd caused Jim to get it for him. "Thank you for doing that for me," he says hollowly. "I'm sorry it distressed you."

"It's mostly mine," Liz says, patting Jim on the back. "Took over when it got a little much. Don't worry about it."

"Yeah. Plus, it was my choice. Our choice. You didn't force me or anything. I just, I just got bad memories. And I got scared. I'm okay now. Don't beat yourself up about needing to eat," Jim adds.

Despite Jim's words, tears spill over in Valen's eyes. "How-how can I not?" he cries. "When my entire existence is predicated on making others suffer? No matter how hard I try, I'll never be anything other than a creature of blood. Someone will always have to bleed and be in pain as long as I'm alive."

"Hey, that's not true." Jim gives him a hug. "You saved me from having to bleed and be in pain for the rest of my life. You drink that ethical stuff from the shop. I doubt people who sell their blood are really suffering. I've donated blood and plasma before... everything, and it was a piece of cake. Plus, you're working on your mushrooms. You're a really good person, Valen. You're good."

Valen puts the mug on the end table nearby so he can hold Jim, but he's having a meltdown now, probably because he's hungry on top of all the stress. "I-I haven't always been this way, Jim, I drank the blood of blood farm victims for decades before this. I'm s-so ashamed that, that what it took for me to realize was-" He gives a wail and pulls away from Jim. "I married into the family that owns and operates the blood farms, Jim, and I did nothing for the longest time to try and stop it."

He folds in himself, arms above his head, crying so hard he can barely speak. "What does it matter that I saved one human when thousands of them are ground up by the cogs of my society every day? Nothing any of us can do can ever make up for the oceans of blood we've all spilled. I'm a monster, Jim. I deserve to die. We all deserve to die."

"Liz, give us a minute?" Jim says.

"Sure, yeah. But that stuff's not true, Valen." She leaves them.

Jim directs Valen to sit on the bed, arm around him. "It matters that you saved one human to me, okay? To be Kane's... you get treated like nothing. Less. Food, or a punching bag for him to take his shit out on. Without you, I'd either have died of dehydration out there, or I'd spend the rest of my life as his, with crushed ankles to boot. You took me away from all that. You let me be a person again. You didn't have to do that. You could've turned me in for cash, you could've kept me and made me yours, but you didn't. Sure, I’m only one human. But–but it's my entire life. You gave it back to me. Your husband's a piece of shit. You're not him, you're literally trying to divorce him. A lot of vampires are monsters–so are a lot of humans–but not you. Never you."

Valen hiccups, feeling so small next to Jim now. "I just did what any decent person would have done." He takes a moment to let what he just said sink in, then he sniffles and wipes his face. "Thank you, Jim. I'm, I'm sorry you tried to do something nice for me and just got a meltdown in return. Hearing you say all that does make me feel better. Can I..." He extends his hand towards the end table, just a little bit. "Can I maybe drink it now? I c-can't imagine being this hungry is helping my emotional stability at all."

Jim grabs the mug and hands it to him. "Knock yourself out. It's not your fault, I just... got spooked. I feel a little better now, though. It's better when I'm with you."

"I'm glad. I'm glad my being here makes things better, not worse." He sips the mug, trying not to make the connection to who the blood came out of.

[ratralsis]

In other news, I'm a little under halfway through my final writing class where I rewrite pretty much my entire novel from nothing. This is the fourth one of those.

It's the one I've been writing about for years. The one where the main guy marries an orc at the end, though in the last draft it isn't made super explicit that they're married. They just live together and have a kid. I guess he does call her his wife, though. That's pretty explicit.

I'm so tired of rewriting this thing, especially the opening chapters. But I'm about to do it again, because my tutor wants me to.

I'm also tired of being told over and over that I'm telling and not showing when I say things like "She felt horrible" or "He was happy about that" in the prose. Like, I'm sorry, man. I like putting names to my emotions in real life. Can I at least do it for the autistim-coded character who absolutely would stop and think about what he's feeling at any given moment because that's what I do when I start feeling overwhelmed by an emotion? I put a name on it? It's some cognitive behavioral therapy shit I learned years ago, or something like it, I did learn it years ago as part of therapy, at least.

I'm just tired in general.

I got a new furnace and AC. It cost me thousands of dollars. I had to get a loan. I'll be making payments on it for the next two years. That's part of home ownership, baby. It took several more days than it should have because someone from the city had to come check the work of the HVAC guys who installed it and he found a dang ol' gas leak in my basement, which, HEY, that's fucking terrifying. But it's fixed now. The guy came back today and verified it and everything.

It all sucks so bad.

If I keep automatically contributing to my 401k at my current rate, I might be able to afford to retire in my 60s, though, assuming I can keep working for that long. Assuming that the world is still inhabitable for me at that point. I honestly wonder sometimes, but who doesn't, these days, other than people already in their 60s or above?

I have no faith that my novel, when I finally publish it after half a dozen years or more of working on it, will sell even a hundred copies. It'd be cool if it does, and I'm going to work hard on it and hope that it does, but I don't think it will.

It doesn't even have a title and I've been working on it for four and a half years already. Christ.

Alright. That's all for now.

I have good days and bad days.

[clonerightsagenda]

me finishing Station 11: losing fluids at an alarming rate bc I was sobbing my eyes out me finishing Lockwood & Co: losing fluids at an alarming rate bc I caught my annual start of school year cold and am now sucking down Liquid IV with a deadpan expression while watching Lucy and Lockwood work-break up. again

Anyway episode 10

Tbh I feel like I am watching an AU angst fanfic where the writer fudged the characterization to do more pre-relationship arguments.

Is Joplin wearing one of the silver capes? Or just a silver net seal over her shoulders gesturing at the same idea?

George does all the fucking inventory and restocking??? Give this man a raise he's also cooking for all of them

Yknow considering ghosts can manifest right after a murder (see: that guy from the furnaces in the fourth book) bold of these adults to try to kill a bunch of kids after dark. Even if they win, for round 2 they wouldn't be able to see them coming.

"He always mentions adults. He didn't know it's young people who could see beyond the veil." Ok so if the skull isn't the child servant who helped him deal with ghosts, who on earth is he? I suppose if they aged everyone up 3 or so years he'd be like 20

me googling 'scrubber British slang': ah I learned a new slur. Tbh the way things were going with their Female Character TM shit I figured we would not get out of this without someone calling her a slut

Lockwood siccing a bunch of freshly released ghosts on people: I call this the Lucy Carlyle fastball special

I was wondering if they were going to imply Gale was the one who arranged his parents' accident, since he's Marissa's hired killer. Also after all the dramatic sword fights I admit I did snicker when he just pulled out a fucking gun. Why did no one do that sooner

After the whole thing about George being the overlooked third wheel they took away the bit where he cons everyone by faking his death because no one bothered to notice he'd lost his glasses lenses? Bro I'm so sorry you got upstaged by a fucking… laser beam for some reason

"Something's wrong, they're trapped" foreshadowing again although in the books he already knew that. Dude did you not phone home once in the last 50 years

Joplin exploded. I guess. Why not at this point

The second half of this show has gone wildly off the rails and I'm honestly not sure why they made any of these choices. Like they're not objectively bad or anything but what was wrong with the original sequence of events.

They left out the skull calling for his master and getting snubbed which I feel like was pretty significant but they left almost all his other stuff out too so. Rip again skull in a jar, they cut all your best lines, none of which sounded like anything a kid from the 1860s would say. He would've loved the Mercymorn speech

Oh thank god they at least kept Kipps' gifted kid burnout speech.

Dropping villain!Penelope way earlier I see

Listen if they're making everything darker and edgier I hope he really DOES have his sister's ghost locked in there

[fadelbison]

PLEASE write sandray as old endangered turtles trying and absolutely failing to get mating right to the consternation of 20 conservationists I'm begging you

you have to understand that not a single person in the actual fandom wants to read this but you are the reason the sun shines in the morning so here you go: Title: Logbook of a Conservationist Scorned Pairing: SandRay, TopMew, BostonNick Rating: G (R if you're a tortoise) Summary: What does two ancient tortoises, an Engineering Student and a murderous parrot have in common? Simply, they're all out to ruin Mew's life. Note: Their pronouns are what they are, they’re tortoises free of social dogma. Suffice to say, I am not a conservation biologist and I know nothing of tortoises or parrots.

---

Part 1: "Ray knows how to be alone. He's good at it. Alone, he doesn't have to think about love or wonder if he's worthy of it. Alone, he can live with the peace he's made with himself, away from all the flaws that would be reflected in another's eyes. In Sand's eyes, that only seem to hold contempt for him, seeing with shocking clarity the ways that he fumbles and the ways that he disappoints.

Ray has convinced himself that he likes the solitude of his enclosure, the bounty of mealtimes that he gets to keep for hims-"

Professor Yo sighs loudly, her hands going the bridge of her nose to indicate the start of a headache, "Mew, what the fuck."

"I don't think you can talk to me like that." Mew says, leaning back into the chair he's in, sulking.

"I don't think your committee will approve fucking tortoise fanfiction in lieu of a thesis." She bites back unimpressed. "There is only so many ways I can write Specimen 5675 and 5676 refused to move an inch from the corners of their mating enclosure"

Professor Yo sighs again, "And yet when auditors from the National Science Foundation will want records of your notebook that is the only thing they'll want to read."

"You don't know every auditor at the NSF" "Mew!"

"Fine. Fine. I'll write it up properly. I'll be sure to add how you live a life entirely devoid of joy or whimsy in the footnotes." Professor Yo ignores his jibe, "Good and the condition of 5676's sperm?" Mew rolls his eyes but doesn't argue, it's her job to ask after all, "sperm count above average, motility excellent, pH and morphology normal. Look they haven't so much as looked at each other in three weeks, not since The Incident. Sand's sperm is not the problem."

"And artificial insemination?"

"Ray doesn't take to injection. It's not an uncommon phenomenon in tortoises. Not only is this species critically endangered but we know too little about their mating practices even from closely related species. You need to let me take them out of their enclosure." Professor Yo nods as appeasingly as she can, “I understand your point but we have to prove that we have exhausted all insemination strategies to the department before they'll approve our liability waiver. Have we?” Mew tries his best not to roll his eyes, “I’ve injected him at various times of the day, tried differend food combos, simulating known tortoise mating rituals before too-

“Mew, have we or have we not exhausted all avenues of artificial insemination?” They stare each other down for a few long moments before Mew gives in, “Fine I’ll contact the engineering department.” He leave's the office as haughtily as he can.

~ From: mew32@xyz.edu To: engineering-PHD-list-serve@xyz.edu Subject: Looking for collaborators on tortoise prosthetics project

Dear all, I am Mew, a fourth year PhD candidate in the Biology Department and doing my thesis on the mating behaviors of local tortoises and reptiles. A chapter of my thesis is dedicated to achieving the successful mating of a critically endangered tortoise species housed within our department's Animal Husbandry program. One of our current strategies, is to make a prosthetic mating apparatus to help our tortoise Ray on his wonderful journey to motherhood. I am looking for a dedicated engineering student who can help me build this apparatus. We can pay a small consultation fee along with my eternal gratitude (paper authorship negotiable). Looking forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

Mew

~ From: ttanin5@xyz.edu  To: mew32@xyz.edu RE: Subject: Looking for collaborators on tortoise prosthetics project

Before I agree I want to make sure I’m getting this right. You want to make a tortoise dildo? Best,

T ~ A/N: I haven't forgotten about the muderous parrot

A/N2: As promised murderous parrot appears in Part 2

[yeowangies]

Can I request NSFW prompt #124 for Raditz where the reader keeps teasing him by switching into sexy costumes every hour and pretends to not know why he's turned on? The smut prompt list is on @rainysoot page if you need to find it.

PAIRING: Raditz/Reader RATING: Explicit CONTENTS: Explicit sexual content, light spanking, dom/sub undertones, rough sex. WORDCOUNT: 3255

Notes:

I had so much fun writing this because I would actually do this to whoever I'm dating, I'm that bitch (then again, who isn't).

These are the costumes I mention in the fic (some of these are not even costumes, they're straight up lingerie, but man I LOVE THEM): first, second, third, fourth.

“Bulma, what did you buy me? I only asked you for one outfit.”

“I know, but you were ranting so badly that I knew I had to do something.”

“So getting me FOUR outfits is your solution?!”

“Definitely!”

“And you even got me a bunny costume… I thought that was your thing…”

“Well yours is pink.”

“I can see that… And it’s velvet… Ok, I like it.”

“See, I don’t know why you’re complaining.”

“I’m not, it’s just… four costumes is too much, don’t you think?”

At least there’s variety. You have tried lingerie in the past, but sharing your experience with Bulma made you realize that Saiyan apparently do not care about that. The only thing Raditz kind of likes is a satin nightgown you wear sometimes, but it’s not that he likes it but more like you like it and he fucks you while you wear it. Surprisingly, it hasn't been ripped off yet. 

“Does Vegeta actually like any of those things?”

“Well, he did like my bunny costume.”

“Really?! Would have never guessed he was into that…”

“I know, right? He doesn’t like lace but he likes that? Saiyans are weird.”

“I wonder what Goku likes now…”

“I don’t think his mind goes that far.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Goku and Chichi have been married for years, and spent the first five years alone together, what do you think they did? Certainly not play card games.”

You hear the front door open, and quickly hang up.

“I gotta go.”

“Good luck!”

You kick the box with the costumes under the bed and head for the living room to greet Raditz. He looks tired and dirty, like he always does after he comes back from training, and you quickly urge him to shower, which he does, looking at you curiously as he goes into the bathroom. 

What you’re going to do may be a little mean, but you wonder if he would even realize that what you’re going to wear is meant to be sexy. Would he even care? You’re positive he’s going to notice by the third or fourth outfit change, if the first ones don’t work. You have to start with the least revealing one after all. But, in the best case scenario, Raditz will not only notice, but you might even rile him up. You grin mischievously, hoping that the latter happens quickly. 

The angel costume is cute. Barely seems like a costume, but more like a cute pastel pink dress, a little too short maybe but still, a cute dress. You feel silly putting on the halo and the wings. 

When Raditz walks into the kitchen after showering and putting on clean clothes, you’re already there, innocently making tea.

“What are you wearing?” You hear him ask behind you, and he does sound confused, and you smile as oblivious as you can, before turning around.

“Do you like it? It’s cute, right?” 

“I- I don’t know…” He frowns, looking at you up, down, then up again. “Do humans actually wear that to go outside?”

“Of course!” You lie.

“...Why is it so short?”

“Oh, yeah, I don’t think this is really my size.”

It is your size. And the purpose of the dress is for your ass to be seen if you were to bend over a little. But you aren’t going to say that.

“Do you like it?” You ask again.

Raditz shrugs, keeping his eyes fixed on you for a moment before going to sit at the table.

“It reminds me of that dress you wear to sleep sometimes.”

You pout at his apparent indifference, and quickly serve him his tea.

The wings are uncomfortable, you can’t wait to take them off, but you notice the little glances Raditz throws your way. He is interested, but he isn’t doing anything about it. Maybe you should inspire him more. 

As you go through the rest of the costumes in your room, you realize how raunchy the rest of them are. The last one in particular… it’s too much, and you’re going to be embarrassed to even put it on, but you still have two outfits to try on before that one. The maid costume is next, and it’s sexy while being wearable, even if almost completely see through. Looks more like actual lingerie than a costume.

You peek into the living room to see Raditz watching TV (it amuses you how easily he has grown to like watching series and movies). Breathing in deeply, you walk into the living room, casually striding towards the kitchen.

“What is that?!” You hear him sputter behind you, and you try to contain your smile as you turn around to face him.

“What?”

“That thing you’re wearing!”

“Oh, it’s a cute outfit, isn’t it?” You ask breezily.

Raditz narrows his eyes at you, and you notice the tip of his ears getting slightly red. You purse your lips so as not to blatantly laugh in his face.

“Are you fucking with me?”

“What? No? What are you talking about?”

“I doubt human women actually wear that to go out.”

“Um, well, you’re just not into what’s trendy right now…”

“I literally never see you wear shit like that.”

“I’m just trying to be a la modé, ok?”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I’ll take it off if you don’t like it.” You sigh, feigning offense. 

“...No, that’s fine.”

You can feel his eyes on you as you start preparing dinner, more specifically on your ass, the skirt left very little to the imagination after all, and you only had your panties underneath it. Raditz is staring, but why isn’t he doing anything? He was never this hard to break before. Except the times he was completely oblivious to your insinuations, that usually involved flirting with words on your part, not walking around in flimsy tiny clothes. Maybe he just isn’t that into the outfit, as cute and sexy as you thought it is.

Time for the heavy artillery then. The bunny outfit is next. 

Raditz is still staring intensely when you leave the kitchen to walk into the bedroom, and for a second you think he will actually follow you. But when he doesn’t after a minute, you quickly put on the pink velvet body, along with the ears and other accessories. 

When you go back into the kitchen again, he actually splutters the water he’s drinking at the same time he drops the fork he has in his hand, loudly clinking once it falls on the floor, spilling food, and making you frown.

“Hey, you’re gonna have to clean that now!”

“Why do you keep changing clothes?!” Raditz yells, clearly flustered. “And what the fuck is that?!”

“What?” You ask, playing ignorant. 

“That thing you’re wearing!” He squints from his seat, carefully taking you in. “You… actually look like some kind of rabbit?”

“It’s a bunny-”

“It’s so short! I can see so much of you!”

“It’s supposed to be like that.” You clear your throat and roll your eyes. “It’s, uh… nice, right?”

Raditz is eying you like he’s trying to determine whether you’re serious or playing some kind of joke on him, and you quickly look elsewhere so you don’t end up snickering in his face. You know for sure the outfits are having some kind of effect on him when you notice that he’s blushing hard. 

However, that’s all he does, stare and blush. 

Why is he not doing anything?

You’d be offended if it isn’t for the fact that you have sex practically every day. Besides he has that look in his eyes you know too well, he’s practically devouring you with an intense gaze that never leaves you as you walk around in the kitchen. 

You don’t know why he’s holding back, but if the last outfit doesn’t work, you’re going to be furious. 

Especially because it’s not even an outfit, it’s basically lingerie, and extremely raunchy at that. Probably on the verge of being vulgar. But then again, Bulma bought it so you didn’t expect anything less. It has to work. You can’t even play innocent while wearing it, it’s going to be painfully obvious you’re trying to provoke him when you put it on.

Trying not to blush and feel embarrassed about wearing something so revealing, you peek into the living room from the bedroom. Raditz is not there, and you hear water running from the bathroom sink, noticing the door open ajar. He’s probably brushing his teeth. As silently as possible, you walk into the living room, picking up the plates quickly to put them on the sink.  For a second, you consider getting on top of the dining table to pose or something, but you already feel a little silly while wearing the lingerie set, and it isn’t exactly the most comfortable either, so you desist. 

You freeze when you hear the bathroom door close, and turn around to see Raditz standing by the hall. His eyes widen as his gaze travels up and down your body several times, and you cannot help your own blush this time around. Neither of you speak, and you bite your lip, feeling a little more embarrassed the more he just keeps his eyes fixated on you without moving.

You jolt slightly when he walks towards you, and in the blink of an eye, you’re pressed against the table, cheek flush on the cool top with his hand on your back, keeping you in place, and you cannot help the loud yelp that leaves your lips.

“What are you doing?!” You ask him, flinching when he squeezes your ass.

“Don’t pretend to be so innocent.”

His hand on your ass squeezes your flesh again, and you gasp when he suddenly slaps you on your right cheek, not really hard, but it still surprises you. The next slap is on your left cheek, and you moan this time, bracing your hands on the edge of the table.

“Look at me.” Raditz says, the hand on your back traveling up to tangle his fingers in your hair, pulling your head back enough so you can turn your head. There’s a frustrated yet completely alluring grin on his face when you gaze at him. “You were trying to rile me up, weren’t you?” 

You smile mischievously, arching your back to better show off your curves to him.

“Oops, you got me.” You say flatly.

He chuckles darkly, letting go of your hair as both of his hands slide towards your waist, digging his fingers onto your skin before moving downwards again. He kneads your ass once more, and you jump slightly when you feel two of fingers running over the fabric covering your sex. As he presses them deeper, rubbing from bottom to top, you moan. 

“You’re already wet, and I haven’t done anything.” He teases you, and you huff.

Before you can retort, he moves the panties aside and slips two fingers inside you, making you gasp. He’s pumping them in and out of you with deliberate force, slowly yet hard, and you’re almost embarrassed listening to the wet sounds his moves produce; he was right, you’re wet and he really hasn’t done much. Your idea of riling him up by changing clothes has definitely affected you as well if you are already this turned on. 

Then again, Raditz had bent you over the table in the blink of an eye, and that’s always a turn-on. 

You squeak when he turns you over so you’re lying on your back, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. He has a feral look in his eyes, and a wolfish grin adorning his face, and you blush under the intensity of his expression, desire pooling in your abdomen. When he runs a heavy hand over your sternum and down your stomach, you’re not too far gone to know he wants to tear off your clothes.

“Hey, if you like this, do not rip it!” You warn him. 

Raditz looks at you like he’s considering it before nodding quickly. You sigh, relieved; you want to keep the set if it’s that powerful. He plays with the strings on your stomach before running his hand up your chest, pushing the bra up to free your breasts. You moan when he slides his fingers over one of your nipples, and whine when he pinches it. 

Leaning in, he takes a nipple into his mouth, licking it gently as his hand finds your entrance, easing two fingers in again. You pant, running your fingers through his hair, tugging at it when he grazes his teeth on your skin. Tightening your legs on his torso, you squirm under his ministrations; you’re more than ready to have him inside you already. But he seems to be enjoying himself, especially when you cry out as he sucks on your nipple, feeling the smirk on his lips against your skin.

“Stop teasing me…”

“Why? Weren’t you doing the same thing to me all day?”

“I- ah!” You gasp when he pumps his fingers faster. “Yeah, but-”

He’s chuckling again, sliding his lips up towards your neck, running his tongue over your jaw.

“I knew you were doing it on purpose.”

“Yeah, no shit.” You huff, exasperated.

You whine when Raditz pulls away from you altogether, clinging tightly to his shirt.

“Take off your clothes…”

He smiles smugly at you and surprisingly complies, muscles flexing when he takes off his tank top and tosses it on the floor. You’ve seen him naked plenty of times, but it still leaves your mouth hanging open every time you see him undressed. He leans down to kiss your stomach, licking around your belly button as he pulls his pants down just enough to free his cock. You wiggle impatiently, pressing your feet on his back to get him to hurry up and fuck you already.

“Impatient much?” Raditz pulls away and smirks down at you.

You glare at him as he untangles your legs easily off his waist to prop them on his shoulders, his tail wrapping around on one of your thighs. 

“I should really make you pay for teasing me so much.” He says, sliding a hand over one of your breasts and pinching your nipple, making you gasp. 

You look at him, worried; surely he wouldn’t keep teasing you, would he? He must be hard already and not in the mood to delay his own pleasure.

Luckily, you feel his erection gliding over your folds soon enough, and you cry out when he pushes in all the way in one swift move. 

“But you look too tempting to hold off much longer.” He groans, staring at you with pure lust in his eyes.

Raditz doesn’t give you a chance to say anything, pulling his cock almost all the way out before slamming back in hard, making you moan loudly when you feel him hit inside you just right. Setting a rough pace, he holds tightly onto your legs, digging his fingers in your skin as his hips snap against yours. Loud noises spill from your lips and you can’t help it, he’s fucking you hard and fast, making your body jolt with his every move.

Bracing your hands on his shoulders, you run your nails down his arms, almost desperately. That vicious pace he has set is already making your legs shiver, and his cock is so thick, it fills you up so good, your mind going blank with every thrust. One of his hands slides down your thigh, grabbing a handful of your ass and squeezing it harshly, making you clench around him in response. He groans, his pace faltering as his hips jerk forward, and you mewl, clinging to his biceps.

Raditz fucks you hard often, unless that’s not the mood any of you are in at the moment, and you love him for it, but it feels different this time. He’s rough, almost brutal, and you briefly wonder how powerful the lingerie set is if it triggers him this way, and how powerful you are while wearing it.

You’re aware he basically just started fucking you but the heat in your abdomen is tightening faster than you expect, every thrust of his hips against you pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Closing your eyes and throwing your head back, you clearly feel the table moving dangerously underneath you, hear it creaking loudly with Raditz’s every move, as well as the loud smack of skin slapping against skin, and his low grunts and groans every time his dick slips in and and out of you. It’s becoming too much too quickly.

A whimper escapes your lips when one of his hands strokes your breast, tweaking your nipple, before sliding down your abdomen. Your entire body jolts when he rubs your clit with his thumb, and you gasp, digging your nails on his arms. 

You try to warn him about your impending climax, but Raditz leans down and captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, swallowing down every one of your moans. Your legs are pressed against your chest, and you’re completely bent over and at his mercy while his fingers work you closer to your release. You’re breathless as his hips snap forward, pumping his cock into you hard, not letting up for one second, and you quickly wrap your arms around his neck, hands tugging at his hair to somehow let him know you’re going to come soon. 

“I know you’re close.” He groans against your lips with a shaky voice. “I want to feel you come.”

Raditz keeps his gaze fixed on your face when your orgasm washes over you, your body quivering underneath him. Pleasure pulses inside you, making your mind go blank. You clench around his dick, and he growls deep in his chest, hips snapping forward roughly. 

Shortly afterwards, he comes with a low groan, thrusting in deeply, hands holding tightly onto your legs. You whimper when his cock throbs inside you, filling you with cum, and your body shakes when he pumps into you, riding out his peak.

Your arms untangle themselves from his neck and fall limply on the table when Raditz kisses you, feeling almost completely drained to even return it. You kiss, lazy and sloppy, as he lets go of your legs, tail unraveling itself from your thigh. 

The afterglow only lasts a few seconds before he pulls away, slipping out of you. You get to blink idly at him a couple of times before you’re promptly turned around, once again with your cheek pressed flush against the table top.

“Wha-”

“I’m not nearly done with you.” Raditz sneers with a hand on your back, keeping you in place. “You teased me the entire day, you think you can get away with it?”

When you open your mouth to reply, a stuttered moan escapes you as he starts eagerly rubbing your clit. Your legs tense, overstimulated, and you grip the edge of the table tightly, afraid you might actually fall off of it at the abruptness of his touch. 

You don’t have it in you to protest much, voice almost gone from the first round, and you’re dreading how many times he’s actually capable of putting you through orgasm after orgasm; yet at the same time, you cannot wait to find out, and you already feel heat blooming in your lower abdomen once more by the time you feel his cock pushing inside you.

[novelmonger]

I played Death Stranding and I have...questions.

I considered posting about these things as they came up while playing, but figured that as soon as I started talking about it, Tumblr would start throwing spoilers in my face. So instead of having to tiptoe through that minefield, I've been saving it up until I beat the game and could talk about it freely.

Spoilers ahead, read at your own risk!

Why the heck are the cities all named "____ Knot City"? Why would they not use the names of old cities or even towns that used to be roughly in the same location?

Why does no one use ordinary surnames anymore? There's literally no reason for people not to use them a mere generation (if that) since the apocalypse.

WHAT THE HECK KIND OF NAME IS DIE-HARDMAN THAT IS THE STUPIDEST THING I'VE EVER HEARD

For that matter, why has so much changed in such a short time? The last president was still around in living memory, so the Death Stranding just happened a few decades ago at most. And I don't think this is set super far into the future - not like Horizon: Zero Dawn, for example, where it makes sense that no one remembers what life was like in 21st-century America, because it's set a thousand years in the future. Everyone over a certain age in Death Stranding can remember what it was like before, so why is everyone acting like they're unearthing some incredible archeological find when they discover that people used to...I don't know...play video games?

Carrying unborn babies around in a tank because their mothers are braindead and thus connected to the world of the dead and so the babies can detect the presence of the dead...may be one of the creepiest things I've ever done in a game before. And I can't decide if this is a pro-life thing or not, because there are soooooo many mixed messages of some characters insisting that BBs are just tools, and others who treat them like actual babies.... I mean, I saw Lou as a person from day one, and clearly, Sam came to the same conclusion since he named Lou...but I just wonder what the creators of the game were thinking when they implemented that.

Okay, I get that not everybody knows that BBs even exist, but of those who do...why are more people apparently not bothered by carrying around what is apparently a human child in a little tank??? Wouldn't it take an awful lot to convince people that the thing that looks and acts like a human child is in fact not a human being - when you can literally see everything they do, you can hear them crying, they are fully formed, so it's not like they're weird-looking little fetuses? Do I just have too high a view of humanity?!

WHO THE HECK DECIDED THAT THE OMINOUS GHOSTLY SPIRIT THINGS THAT CHASE YOU DOWN TO PULL YOU CLOSER TO DEATH SHOULD BE CALLED "BEACHED THINGS"??? WHY DID THEY GO WITH THE STUPIDEST-SOUNDING, LEAST INTIMIDATING NAME THEY COULD POSSIBLY THINK OF?! I was creeped out when they were just BTs, because that sounds kind of ominous, but as soon as I found out what that stands for, I burst out laughing. They'll never be truly intimidating again.

Why is there an online option at all in this game? Does anybody actually play with it turned on? I immediately went, "lol, nope" as soon as it was explained to me. If I wanted to play an MMO, I'd go play World of Warcraft (or whatever the kids are playing these days).

Why. On Earth. Are bodily fluids used to make grenades. Were they trying to make you feel like a monkey throwing feces around? Why is showering and using the freaking toilet an actual gameplay element? (What is this, The Sims?) Why is there a button you can press to pee on the ground while on the road? WHY DOES A HOLOGRAM OF A MUSHROOM APPEAR TO MARK THE PLACE YOU JUST WATERED THE GRASS???

Why is the tonal shift so severe when you're in a private room? Sam goes from being a stoic grumpypants who just kind of grunts at people, to making faces and breaking the fourth wall. Is this...supposed to be funny? Is what happens in private rooms outside of canon? No, that doesn't work, because there are quite a few plot-advancing cutscenes that happen in private rooms....

Why does Fragile chew so weirdly?

WHY ARE THERE ACTUAL LITERAL MONSTER ENERGY DRINKS IN THIS GAME AAAUUUUGH THE PRODUCT PLACEMENT IS SERIOUSLY MESSING WITH MY SUSPENSION OF DISBELIEF DX

Why on earth is there a random hologram of Aloy and a Watcher from Horizon: Zero Dawn? All it does is serve to yank me out of my suspension of disbelief and remind me of a game that does a much more convincing job with the post-apocalyptic future of North America.

Why bother with the whole repatriation thing? Did we really need an in-universe explanation for why you can come back to life if you get a game over? Like...it's not going to make anyone forget they're playing a game. And they didn't do a great job of establishing right away whether or not Sam retained his memories after that scripted repatriation at the beginning. Left me very confused for a long while. If they wanted him to survive his wife's voidout, he could have just...not been there when it happened, you know? (Upon reaching the end of the game, I understand a little better why they did it this way, but I still think it's a bit clunky.)

Why the heck is Conan O'Brien in this game? Like, I can sort of understand Guillermo del Toro, I guess, but....

What's the point of making the MULEs addicted to oxytocin or whatever, so far gone that they're compelled to steal people's packages for the high of it? That's...really stupid and unnecessary. Seriously, you could just have them be bandits. People who are hostile to Bridges to such an extent that they attack porters on sight, or who have broken away from others and created their own little communities, and they have no qualms about stealing packages from people, in case they might contain valuable resources.

Why does nobody in this world know how to use emojis? Were all the mail messages written by boomers?

Who on earth hired the actress who played the Chiral Artist, and why didn't they get someone to play that role who could actually act?

Why is it that all the significant NPCs in the game are so...unique? You've got Mama and her BT baby, not to mention that she doesn't decay after she dies and is somehow alive in Lockne's body. You've got Deadman, who is a literal Frankenstein's monster of corpses stitched together. You've got Heartman, who undergoes cardiac arrest and gets revived every 20 minutes.... I mean, none of the characters important to the story are just normal people dealing with the Death Stranding. They're all one of a kind. Which isn't bad, per se, but it sort of stretches my suspension of disbelief. It would be one thing if it was a deliberate gathering of exceptional minds or something, but it feels like they all just "happened" to be working for Bridges or something. Am I being too picky here?

Why is Higgs that creepy? I mean, I totally dig how hard Troy Baker leaned into the craziness of the role, all slick and sinister, wearing a chiralium mask shaped like a skull, blipping in and out instead of walking two paces just because he can...but why have him smear tar around and lick it off his thumb? Why have him lick Sam's face? It just seems...rather excessive to me <_<

Who on earth came up with having Sam compare himself and Amelie to Mario and Princess Peach? Or for that matter, who had the atrociously lame idea of "Mario and Princess Beach" being an actual line of dialogue we had to hear with our own eardrums? Because I think they need to be fired. Kojima-san, if that was your idea of 'humor' or something, please fire yourself. You're not allowed to string words together anymore.

So...wait. Is it supposed to be a surprise that Clifford Unger is Lou's father? I mean, if it was believable for Sam to not have figured it out a long time ago, that would be fine even if I was pretty sure - that's just dramatic irony. But, like...Sam has been seeing visions of Lou's memories pretty much every time he hooks them up. That's canonically backed up in-story. I find it really hard to believe that Sam wouldn't have pieced it together in all that time.

When Die-Hardman finally takes off his mask...there's nothing unusual about his face? I was expecting some kind of disfigurement from timefall or something, but he looks completely normal, and yet everyone starts muttering in shock?? Is the surprise supposed to be that he's actually completely normal???

WHY ARE THERE TWO CREDIT ROLLS?!?!?!?! (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻ This game take so long just to get through the ending....

Why is this game so fun and addictive despite being so wonky and weird? I loved it. Couldn't stop playing ^_^

Now that I've finished, I am so confused by the timeline and who Sam actually is, so I'm headed off to go research what the heck is up with this game @_@

[blnk338]

creative notes 3!!! (nsfw mentions)

Mentioned in Chapter 22: Violence Isn't Always the Answer. Sometimes It's Soup. I lightly hinted that Rigo is trans.

Rigo and Reaper's relationship was deliberately written as if she were annoyed by him in the beginning; it's one of the first things she mentions about him. This was intentional because I wanted the readers to get to know Rigo on their own without blasting everyone with how wonderful he was-- I wanted to see if people would judge him differently if he were initially introduced as annoying. Much to my overjoy, everyone loved him.

Speaking of which, I was actually kind of afraid that people wouldn't like Rigo or Gallagher. I was nervous that I was going to get comments asking me to stop focusing on Rigo's silly antics or meeting Gallagher's son and wife. Luckily, I've found quite the opposite for both Gallagher and Rigo :)

RWYS was supposed to be set up where Reaper and Ghost hated each other for the first fourth of the story, friends for another fourth, then in love for the rest but then Ghost just had to get wood up the ass, and... well... they just bonded. Oops?

I've had a few conversations with a dear friend (not tagging just in case :)) about Ghost being demisexual, and I think it makes a lot of sense! Therefore canon in RWYS.

On top of that, I've had a lot of people approach me and ask if either Reaper or Ghost were written autistic in RWYS and, in all honesty, neither was intentional and I just wrote them how I felt was right, but I'm 100% alright if you think either or both are!

In Chapter 4: Feelin' Frosty?, Reaper was supposed to get hit and have Ghost freak out and take care of her, but I quickly realized that Reaper wouldn't have a title within the 141. That's why I had her go the medical route (also mentioned in Chapter 14: A Grave Situation).

Reaper actually liked medicine and enjoys helping people. The entire reason she asked Laswell for the information and educational pieces was so that she could better keep her teammates safe. This does conflict with her reasonings for dropping out of college, but again, this was intentional. Reaper was trapped in a box by her mom to do something that her mother wanted her to work in; nursing wasn't Reaper's choice. However, choosing a medical route for her MOS was her choice. Reaper took hold of something that used to be oppressive and turned it into something she owned as part of herself.

Seen in Chapter 14: A Grave Situation, Rigo gifts Reaper two cringy shirts. One about hot girls cumming and another about her massive penis. I know they're funny and a little corny, but that was also intentional. A. They're both in their thirties and they're allowed to be silly. B. I wanted to add a little bit of internet culture from a few years ago/in the early 2010's and 2000's because of what years they experienced their teens/early adulthood. So yeah, they might be a little "old" with some of their jokes, but they're still funny even if they're not joking about ten-hour-long compilations of metal rods being thrown into the ground.

[wisedawn13]

#xiantober Day 7: Bikerxian

Wei Ying is in his fourth and final year at Starfleet Academy. Soon enough he'll be graduated and assigned to some ship to go out into space. Which also means that this is his final year seeing all his friends nearly every day. He's gonna miss them.

Most of all, he's going to miss his best friend of them all, Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan is a half-Vulcan student at the academy and when Wei Ying first saw him, he knew he had to befriend him. Most people view Lan Zhan (and Vulcans) as boring and stuffy, but not Wei Ying.

He has so much fun when he's around Lan Zhan. Talking to him, teasing him, debating with him, making him show irritation towards him, you name it. He loves it all. Lan Zhan is his dearest friend and he worked hard to get Lan Zhan to view him the same way.

It took a while, they definitely had quite a rocky start, but Wei Ying likes to think that it was his intellect that finally showed Lan Zhan that he'd be wonderful friend material. (So, maybe he was showing off around the Vulcan a bit, can you judge him?)

Anyway, they finally grew closer and now, in their final year, Lan Zhan has even vocalized that Wei Ying is his best friend. Wei Ying is the happiest man in the world at that, but he knows what's coming and he's not looking forward to being separated from Lan Zhan.

Sure, they could end up assigned to the same starship, but there's no guarantee, not when they are just starting out.

He's going to make the best of this final year with Lan Zhan. There are so many things they've never gotten to do that he wants to do with Lan Zhan.

The problem is Lan Zhan, in his infinite logic, has always turned down some of the more... risky activities. Which, fair. But he wouldn't be Wei Ying if he gave up easily, now would he?

The thing he wants to do most is give Lan Zhan a ride on his motorcycle.

He's asked many times and been shot down every time because "It is dangerous, Wei Ying. Are you aware of the number of motorcycle-related injuries that occur every year?"

Blah blah blah.

Wei Ying has been riding for years and he's been perfectly fine!

Unfortunately, Lan Zhan's response when he points that out is to look at him with the tiniest hint of disapproval and say, "It only takes one accident, Wei Ying."

Ugh.

He hates how right Lan Zhan is. Stupid logic. The only way to win is to out-logic his logic.

This year, he is determined. More so than ever before due to the impending doom of quite possibly never getting to see Lan Zhan again. He's fully prepared to state his case.

With that in mind, Wei Ying marches off to Lan Zhan's room with purpose.

Lan Zhan answers the door quickly and Wei Ying smiles warmly as Lan Zhan's expression softens ever so slightly at the sight of him. Oh, how he adores his best friend.

"Heya, Lan Zhan!"

"Hello, Wei Ying," Lan Zhan replies. "Come in."

He does, plopping down on the couch.

"How are you, Wei Ying?" Lan Zhan asks as he closes the door and makes his way over to pour them both some tea.

"Good. Great now that I'm here with you," he says, grinning.

"Mn," Lan Zhan replies, pouring tea. His hair is hiding his pointed ears but Wei Ying knows they're pink.

His best friend is the cutest.

"You?"

Lan Zhan sets the teapot down and moves Wei Ying's cup over before picking his own up. "I am also great"—he takes a slow sip of tea—"now that you are here."

Wei Ying flushes. "Ah, you..."

Lan Zhan smiles. It's a small thing.

"To what do I owe the visit?"

"What? I need a reason to come and spend time with the most perfect man in the entire universe who just so happens to be my best friend?" Wei Ying squawks indignantly.

Lan Zhan raises a sharp eyebrow.

"Fine! You got me, I came to ask you something." He takes a steadying breath, mentally going over his talking points as he sets his cup down. "I really want to take you for a ride on my motorcycle. Now, before you say what you always say, hear me out!"

Lan Zhan stares silently.

Having the Vulcan's full attention is... a lot. But he can do this. He can.

"You always say that it is dangerous, and while that may be true, there are many things we can do to mitigate much of the risk. I have full outfits with padding for the both of us to wear."

He takes a breath. "I also promise that I will drive at the speed limit, I will obey all traffic laws, I will stay on paved roads, I drive with caution. And, before you tell me that it is still a risk, so is what we are going to school for! Traversing space has many risks!"

Wei Ying can tell he is talking too fast, but he can't stop now. So, he continues. "I mean you know just how many starships have gone down for one reason or another, or just acquired damage that resulted in losing crew. There's so many risks out there! More than on a motorcycle."

"So, yeah. That's all I had to say about that. Thank you for listening."

Wei Ying sits, tense, watching Lan Zhan's face closely.

"You did not ask a question?" Lan Zhan states.

"Huh?"

"At the start, you claimed you came to ask me something but nothing was ever actually asked."

Wei Ying blinks. "The question was /implied/ and you know it!"

The corners of Lan Zhan's mouth tick up in amusement. "Mn."

"Aish, you and your silly teasing!" Did Wei Ying mention he adores Lan Zhan? "So, what do you think, then? About my not-actually-a-question question?"

Lan Zhan takes another sip of his tea and Wei Ying feels like he's going to vibrate out of his skin if he's kept on edge any longer.

"Yes."

"What?"

"Yes. You may take me for a ride."

Wei Ying's eyes widen in shock. "Seriously?"

"Mn, you made many valid points."

He laughs. "Oh, I'm so happy right now! Thank you, you won't regret it!"

Lan Zhan nods. "I trust that I will not."

Wei Ying feels positively giddy. He gets off the couch and practically launches himself at Lan Zhan, hugging him tightly. Lan Zhan, long used to this, hugs back.

"You're really serious?" Wei Ying asks against Lan Zhan.

"I am. Your logic was sound. I am merely surprised it took you this long to make these points."

Wei Ying pulls back and gasps. "Were you /waiting/ for me to make a proper logical argument for this?"

Lan Zhan turns his head to the side but Wei Ying catches the way his lips curl into a smile.

"Betrayal! Betrayal by my best friend!"

Lan Zhan shrugs (SHRUGS!) and glances at him. "You are the one who failed to make such a simple logical case earlier. It is not my fault."

Wei Ying puffs out his cheeks as he pouts. "Cheeky bastard."

Lan Zhan looks at him, fond, and asks, "Would you like to go for a ride now?"

Immediately dropping the petulant act, Wei Ying abruptly stands. "Right now?" Lan Zhan nods. "Yes! Let's go!"

He grabs Lan Zhan's hand and pulls him out of his room. They quickly make it to Wei Ying's room and Wei Ying flits around grabbing everything he needs. "Here," he says, tossing Lan Zhan a white and blue leather outfit. "Put that on. I'll get changed in the washroom."

He all but runs into the washroom and puts on his own outfit. He's buzzing with excitement. Sure, he won't be going as fast as he would normally like, but Lan Zhan is coming! Finally! He doesn't think he's ever been this excited about something.

"You done out there?" he asks through the door once his own black and red outfit is donned.

"Yes."

Wei Ying opens the door and immediately gets the wind knocked out of him by the sight of Lan Zhan. He is a very attractive man in general but Wei Ying feels weak right now.

Lan Zhan wrapped in a leather motorcycle outfit. White gloves on those beautiful hands.

Wei Ying is suddenly having a bit of a crisis that he was not anticipating.

Lan Zhan bends over to tie his boot and Wei Ying is greeted with the sight of Lan Zhan's ass in tight leather.

He chokes.

So...

Perhaps he's having a lot of a crisis.

Lan Zhan rights himself and turns to look at Wei Ying. He's not too proud to admit he made a sound like a wounded animal. Maybe this was a bad idea, but he can't back out of it now. With that, he steels himself.

He grabs his helmet and keys, tossing the other helmet to Lan Zhan (who catches it with ease) and heads out the door. Lan Zhan follows closely as they make their way to Wei Ying's bike.

Wei Ying settles on it and looks to Lan Zhan. "Ready?"

"Mn."

"Alright. You get on behind me and put your feet there," he says pointing to the foot pegs. "Then you just uh... well, you hold onto me. It works best if you kind of lean into me and wrap your arms around me." He feels his face heating up as he talks.

Wei Ying clears his throat. "Then for turning, just lean along with me. If you need to stop at any point just tap me three times in a row and I'll pull over. Sound good?"

Lan Zhan looks over the bike before his eyes settle on Wei Ying. He nods.

"Right. Well, hop on then!"

Wei Ying is not freaking out about the fact that Lan Zhan will be hugging him from behind for an extended period of time. He is definitely not thinking about how he'll be between Lan Zhan's legs.

He is having regrets.

He is losing his mind.

Lan Zhan puts on the helmet.

The motorcycle shifts as Lan Zhan gets on behind Wei Ying. Wei Ying tenses as Lan Zhan situates himself, strong arms wrapping around him and a firm chest against his back. He takes a grounding breath. He can do this.

He exhales, forcing his body to relax.

"Ready?"

"Mn," Lan Zhan replies and he feels it against his back. Oh, he is weak.

Wei Ying puts his helmet on and starts the motorcycle. It roars to life between his legs and the familiar purring of the engine soothes him. He lifts the stand. "Hold on," he says before he starts to drive.

Lan Zhan's arms tighten around him as they start to move, but after a couple minutes of calmly and safely driving along the roads away from the academy he starts to relax against him and Wei Ying can feel Lan Zhan enjoying himself. It makes him smile.

They lean together around turns and Wei Ying wishes they could have more of this. More of them, together.

More touching.

He... wants.

It's kind of a horrible time to realize that you're actually deeply in love with your best friend but it is what it is.

Wei Ying drives on, thrumming with the realization that he's in love with and has been in love with Lan Zhan for quite some time. It's a strange thing to suddenly find out and yet it's not nearly as frightening as he would have thought it would be.

It feels right.

They make their way further out until he feels Lan Zhan tap him three times. He quickly pulls over and stops.

He flips the visor of his helmet up and turns to look at Lan Zhan. "What's wrong?"

Lan Zhan lifts his visor and shakes his head. "Nothing is wrong."

"Okay. Then why'd you ask me to pull over?"

Lan Zhan's gaze shifts around before he quietly admits. "You may go faster if you wish."

Wei Ying's eyes widen. "Are you serious right now?"

A nod.

"You're not worried I'll crash us?"

"I trust you."

Wei Ying stares.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath. Then, louder, "You really mean that? You're truly okay with me speeding?"

"Yes, Wei Ying."

A breathless sort of laugh bubbles out of him. "Okay." He smiles. "Yeah, okay. Hold on!"

They lower their visors and Lan Zhan does as told.

Wei Ying starts the engine and pulls out onto the road. There's a long, straight stretch not too far away and the road is not busy right now. He grins, giddy with glee and overflowing with love.

He increases the speed, following the curves of the road with ease.

Then, when they hit the straight stretch, he accelerates even further. They fly down the stretch before slowing into another turn at the end. Wei Ying pulls back on speed but still goes over the limit for the rest of the ride. He makes his way out of the city to a lookout cliff.

Once they arrive, he cuts the engine and removes his helmet. He whips around to look at Lan Zhan who is removing his helmet.

"How was that?" he asks in anticipation.

Lan Zhan considers that for a beat. "Thrilling. I can see why you so enjoy riding."

Wei Ying laughs.

"Then I'm glad I managed to finally logic you into coming for a ride with me." They stare at each other for a heated moment before Wei Ying gets overwhelmed and turns back around. "Have you ever been here before?"

"I have not."

"Hop off, you have to see the view."

Lan Zhan gets off the motorcycle and Wei Ying follows, putting the stand down and setting his helmet on the seat. Lan Zhan places his own there as well and follows as Wei Ying guides him toward the edge of the lookout. There's no one else here right now, it's just them.

He hears Lan Zhan gasp quietly when they reach the edge. The whole city where the academy is is visible from here, spanning out below them. The sun is setting, painting everything in a golden wash. Wei Ying stares at Lan Zhan, watching him look at the city.

Lan Zhan glows in the light and Wei Ying wants to kiss him. Just as he's about to shake that thought from his mind and turn his attention away, Lan Zhan turns and meets his gaze.

"Lan Zhan," he whispers.

"Wei Ying. May I kiss you?"

"Yes," he wheezes.

And then they're kissing.

Wei Ying feels electric. Lan Zhan's lips press against his own in a way that feels like coming home. He can't believe they've never kissed before. Lan Zhan deepens the kiss and Wei Ying melts into it, wrapping his arms around Lan Zhan's neck while he grips Wei Ying's waist.

They kiss for what feels like a lifetime, suspended in the golden light of the setting sun. Warm and right.

Eventually, they pull away.

"Wow," Wei Ying whispers. "How long have you been wanting to kiss me?"

"Since we became friends," Lan Zhan replies simply.

"Hah... Me too."

"Mn?"

Wei Ying nods and rests his head on Lan Zhan's shoulder. "I just didn't realize exactly what I felt until recently. Very recently."

The sound of laughter startles Wei Ying. He pulls back and stares as Lan Zhan laughs with a bright smile on his face.

"Beautiful," he finds himself saying.

Lan Zhan kisses him.

They kiss there in the setting sun for a while, the city down below them. The ride back to the academy is smooth and they spend the night in Wei Ying's room.

Later on, after they graduate, they do end up assigned to the same starship. It's the start of a wonderful, beautiful journey for the pair of them. Together, they traverse the universe and find comfort in each other. Wei Ying has never been happier.

----------

Link to thread

[postsforposting]

logan couldn't have them thinking he wanted to be there. everything he says to start the fight with wade? yeah it's about wade, but it's also everything logan believes about himself. he instantly regrets it? nah i think he was wondering if he went too far, but it was because he just admitted what he wanted. and deadpool's all breathy "i'm gonna fight/fuck you now" because he recognized all that. fourth wall break, yeah? he can start out on third base and go straight to home, no narrative constraints for him. safety constraints sure, and that's why logan tied him down in the odyssey.

but he's there when it mattered the most, when it...doublemattered the most. when he didn't want to be left there, because he COULD help it.

the xmen asking logan for help, and deadpool kidnapping him and locking him out. massive reverse psychology. because logan couldn't have them thinking he wanted to be there, so wade promised him until he's 90 and....locked him out in the end. because no means yes and fighting is fucking. quite literally "show me you want it" and "beg for it". you know, like how the proposal was them fighting right up until they got hitched, where it turns out it was love all along. that was a comedy and so was this.

logan blowing his top off in the honda to ask wade out. logan blowing his top off...for wade....when it mattered.

if wade is marvel jesus, then introducing logan to blind al....is wade doing the parent introductions. who's jesus's parent? blind al is god. god is blind but love isn't: fuckup4fuckup. and god's a crackwhore.

doggypool is the spirit. wade entrusts his spirit to logan for safekeeping.

the suit's everything logan has left. all wade has left is the friends who remind him he's human. and that picture is left on the floor, burning, at the...climax. they're not all wade has left anymore, or even what's important anymore.

the xmen will take fucking anyone...like strippers.....and wade couldn't make it work with a stripper. BUT. logan couldn't either. vanessa represents death, and neither can make it work with her. the xmen are strippers, are death, are dead and gone. there was nothing to fix there. wade saved the world, rejecting death, for vanessa....he gave life to death. he rejected death and picked life. which is why she doesn't want him, but also why logan does. wade turned a suit of death into life for logan: a memorial became a fighting chance at life.

i'm sure there's even more horny than this though. logan came out of his closet of denial for wade. and what's more horny than With the grotesque? With a spirit that's 90% gspot? With grabbing an undying man--life--with both hands?

Logan is the anchor being because God refuses. Logan is literally Wade's anchor, his God. His God isn't blind and neither is love. The universe lasts a couple thousand years after the anchor being dies....because that's how long we've been waiting for Judgement Day...when god comes back.

Logan's world was already dead so there was nothing left to lose but his honor. Wade refused to let him have his honor. And Logan begged Wade to let him come. Through the chastity belt of a locked steel door, even.

Because Logan thought he didn't have anything left, only to be forcibly prevented from sacrificing himself because he was everything to Wade. And that's not nothing. He did it because Wade needed him.

He wasn't about to lose everything again.

Why the worst Wolverine? He takes anything without complaint. The Wolvie who doesn't want to live. Deadpool makes him start giving back, as good as he gets. To give a fuck again.

Started with Bye Bye Bye and ended with hello sailor. Making him lose control. In the opening scenes Wade literally took him apart and got off with 206 wolvie bones. You know, where Wade used Wolvie's rock hard bone head to blow minds in a tango for two.

You know why fighting is fucking for two immortals who can't die?

Because it's just a little death and then they'll feel better afterward. Like going into the ripper was ~~~just a little death.

A little death, which Wade couldn't have either until the gspot dog found him. After all, matter and antimatter don't play nicely with each other. But they do play. Because there's lots of stuff that happens off screen or in a flashback, like the crack and sweet Johnny's mouth and....

Things that make me lose my mind: Poolverine edition:

"Are you ready to be calm?"

"Not all of you was asleep."

Logan telling Wade that he'll never save the universe and it cuts to Wade looking like he'd been hit by a truck and the pan back to Logan instantly regretting it and getting even angrier than he was + Wade taking it all silently.

Wade using his thighs and leg to smash Logan's head into the side of the car.

Leg over Logan's shoulder as he penetrates Wade + Wade arching up and taking it like a good boy.

"I take it back, the Honda Odyssey fucks hard. Too bad you don't, needle dick." (ok, BRAT.)

"Oh we're just getting started, bub." (ok brat tamer.)

Logan smiling with Wade's blood dripping into his mouth. (freak...)

That shot of Wade bricked up in the back seat.

The entire Honda Odyssey scene alright. It's called sex when you're gay.

"You're the one that I want" Playing as they're trying to maul each other by the way.

D: "You smell something?" W: Yeah, you. A lot of you." Right before the DP variants appear. (why do you know what Wade smells like hm? that's gay.)

A song about blowjobs playing as they fight all the DP variants. "I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there???" and "I hear you call my name, and it feels like home" (gay.)

From "Did you just say you made an educated fucking wish?" to "Don't listen to him he's a liar." to "You didn't lie, you made an educated wish."

From "It's one of god's best jokes that you can't die" to breaking down the reinforced steel door to get to Wade.

Wade getting jealous when other people were ogling Logan shirtless and Logan actually listening to Wade and putting on a jacket.

"They called after me and I ignored them." To Wade calling Logan's name and taking a second before turning and going home with him.

The way Logan looks at Wade when he's being introduced to Blind Al. (I haven't seen him smile like this ever.)

[ali-anne-undertale-stoof]

Chapter 10 is now on AO3 and Tumblr! This time, Papyrus takes a journey through what he deems to be the worst place in the underground: Hotland!

Second Half

Chapter 10: Things Are Getting Heated

There's nothing like a quiet day on the couch with your best friend. Well, your brother, but he's also your best friend!

For the fourth time in a row, Papyrus closed and reopened the Undernet app, waiting for something, anything to change. And like the last three times, nothing happened. No new likes, no new followers. It was just the same. One might wonder what he was even doing it for.

Sans, on the other hand, was hastily scrolling through Alphys' Undernet account. He wouldn't call it stalking or anything. He was just looking through her posts to get to know her more. After all, it was only yesterday when they first met. Might as well do a bit of research about her before he saw her again.

Neither brother spoke, but they enjoyed each other's company nonetheless.

"hey, i have a gig at the resort tonight."

I SAID NEITHER BROTHER SPOKE.

"WAIT, WHAT?!"

"yeah, it's a comedy gig. i'm performing stand-up there."

Papyrus' eye sockets sparkled with ecstasy and pride for his brother.

"YOU???"

"yeah."

"SERIOUSLY??!!!??"

"seriously."

He couldn't help a huge grin. "OH MY GOD!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!" He opened his arms to hug Sans, but then sibling instinct suddenly kicked in. "A COMEDY GIG? WITH YOUR TERRIBLE JOKES?!"

"hey, they're not that..." Sans pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket and rips it apart. "tearable."

"SANS!!!"

"what? you're smiling."

"IT'S A PITY SMILE!!! THAT PUN WAS UNBEARABLE!!!"

"don'tcha mean punbearable?"

Papyrus flopped backwards dramatically and elicited a sound that was somewhere between a squawk and a dying cat.

"what was that?"

"MY SECOND DEATH."

Sans snickered under his breath. Good. At least he's happy, thought Papyrus, straightening his spine and cracking every single vertebrae as he does it.

"what are you, an old man?"

"I MIGHT AS WELL BE!!! I FEEL LIKE I AGED 160 YEARS!!!!"

There was that sound again. The sound of Sans' quiet yet hearty laughter. The type of laugh that makes one keel over and clutch their stomach... or ribcage in this case.

What was The Great Papyrus doing, smiling like that? He's supposed to be annoyed at his brother's bad jokes, no? Oh, well. At least now he's putting them to good use. Excitement welled up inside of Papyrus' ribs once more.

Sans wiped a tear from his eye sockets as his laughs finally quiet down. "say, are you gonna watch me tonight? maybe heckle me on stage?"

Papyrus scoffed and crossed his arms, turning away like he still had some semblance of dignity. "AS IF I WAS GOING TO MISS IT, BROTHER!!! AFTER ALL, DESPITE MY GENERAL DISDAIN AT YOUR JOKES, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM PROUD OF YOU." Just to prove that point, Papyrus pet Sans' head. Hands and skulls! They were made for each other!

The littler skeleton couldn't be more grateful. "heh, thanks. for coming, i mean. but, uh, i'm grateful for the pats too."

He's definitely going to need Papyrus' support. After all, this is a big gig! He's going to perform stand up in front of dozens of people... in a big, fancy restaurant... not a casual setting... so many rich people in one place... looking at him... staring at him... being in the spotlight... telling jokes... for ten minutes...

A bead of sweat formed on Sans' forehead. Does he really want to go through with this? He does need the money... Why is the room hot all of a sudden?

He's so so glad Papyrus is coming.

"UM, SANS? SANS??? HEY!!" Like any good brother, Papyrus proceeded to grab Sans' attention by shaking him like a maraca!

Well, that snapped him out of it. "huh? oh..."

"WHAT? YOU WERE SHAKING! SO, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HELPED YOU OUT WITH MORE SHAKING!"

"yup, fight shaking with shaking, heh."

A thought popped into Sans' mind.

"say, you know where the resort is, right?"

The unsure scoff from Papyrus told Sans everything he needed to know.

"it's in hotland. you know, just before the core?"

Now it was Papyrus' turn to freeze.

"HOTLAND? SERIOUSLY?"

"yeah. i'd guide you, but i have to leave early tonight. you sure you know where you're goin'?"

Papyrus sure did like to scoff. "OF COURSE I DO!!! I AM A MASTER OF DIRECTION!!! AND MY SURROUNDINGS, UNLIKE A CERTAIN BROTHER I KNOW!!! NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH... HEH."

"riiiiiight."

"YEAH!!! RIGHT!!!" Papyrus let silence fill the room for half a second. "BUT JUST IN CASE, IS IT POSSIBLE TO TAKE THE RIVER MAN THERE? RIVER LADY? RIVER PERSON?"

"as far as i know, the river only takes you to the entrance of hotland." Sans let himself sink into the couch cushions, flipping his phone like it's some kind of fidget toy. "if you go any further, you can reach the core, but at the same time, it'll just take you straight into lava."

A burst of rattling erupted from the taller skeleton's bones. And not just because of the vivid mental image of seeing himself drown in lava.

"WELL... I CAN HANDLE HOTLAND!!!"

"just like you can handle rice pudding."

"EWW, SANS!!! DON'T START!!! I SWEAR ON EVERYTHING GOOD, I WILL BE THERE FOR YOU!!!! EVEN IF I HAVE TO GO THROUGH THE LITERAL SIMULATION OF HELL TO DO IT!!! ACTUALLY, NO!!!!! I WON'T EVEN HESITATE!!! I'LL GO THROUGH THE SIMULATION OF HELL A BILLION TRILLION TIMES JUST TO BE THERE!!!! WAIT AND SEE!!!! WAIT!!! AND!!! SEE!!!"

"alright, alright, i believe ya!" Sans laughed. "thanks."

"DON'T MENTION IT!!"

The time has come. Papyrus' quest to watch his brother is underway! Thanks to the river person, Papyrus' journey was a breeze at first. Straight of of Snowdin, all the way across Waterfall, and finally, straight into Hotland.

This is it. THIS. IS. IT. He can do this. He can do this.

He can't do this.

Were the lights really that bright before? Was the heat really that much? Sure, skeletons are very resistant to temperatures, but despite not being able to feel the heat, bones get dehydrated in extreme temperatures. That's why Papyrus carried three large water bottles in his... nonexistent pocket??? The void??? Something like that.

He might as well just carry one around now. But when he pulled it out, the water quickly evaporated.

...

"YEAH... NO. I'M TAKING THE ELEVATOR. SCREW THIS."

Smart plan. Papyrus will just be there early. What? Giving up already? No way! He's just... taking a shortcut! Much like Sans does! Oh god, he's becoming Sans. Noooooo!

The good news was, fate was always there to make sure that Papyrus didn't become like Sans. The bad news was, it did it by making sure that the elevator was out of use, forcing Papyrus to go through Hotland anyway.

"OH, WELL, WOW!!!" Papyrus said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "WELL, I GUESS FATE HAS DECIDED FOR ME! I WON'T TAKE A LAZY SHORTCUT TODAY!"

With that, Papyrus marched back to where he was dropped off. Just before the river, however, he took a sharp turn to the left, which left him facing a large building known as the lab.

"WOWIE!!!!! A REAL LAB!!!!! SANS WOULD LOVE THIS!!!!"

His eye sockets excitedly scanned every inch of the building. Wait, why was the patch of ground in front of the entrance a slightly different shade of orange to the rest of the ground? Aww, no, now it's ruined!!! Papyrus can't unsee that!!!

Nonetheless, he marched inside.

The lab itself was vacant, as it had been for years. There were still remnants of the precious occupant lying around, though. Files on the only desk, collecting dust. Books sat on the bookshelves up above, all filled with history and science and numbers and other stuff Papyrus didn't have time for... But there were also puzzles, which Papyrus could get behind!

This place was amazing! But... there was also this inherent emptiness to it. Looking at this place, Papyrus could almost see visions of what once was. Flickers of something... someone... that was lost to what seemed like time and space itself.

As he passed the desk, Papyrus could almost remember a moment. A tall skeleton and a little skeleton, the former lovingly teaching the latter everything he knew about physics, some of which were of the quantum kind.

He knew the little skeleton well. But the big skeleton... Something felt off about him. What happened to him? Where is he now?

Well, there was no time to dwell on it. Papyrus had a performance to watch!

Warning: Puzzles are in beta right now. Some may still be activated. If any of them are activated, please speak with King Dreemurr, and he will get it all sorted out.

That's what the big red sign outside of the lab said. Papyrus wondered if conveyor belts counted as puzzles. They weren't very creative puzzles. But this is HOTLAND! The most technologically-advanced part of the underground! Surely there's got to be SOME creativity here!

"MY MY!!! IT SEEMS THAT THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS TRIALS TO COMPLETE!! NO MATTER!!! I AM THE MASTER OF PUZZLES!!!! I KNOW PUZZLE HISTORY FRONT TO BACK!!!"

Oh, yeah, because NOTHING says "cool" like a skeleton standing on the conveyor belts, bragging to himself.

"I GRADUATED TOP OF MY CLASS IN PUZZLE-OLOGY!!! YES, PUZZLE-OLOGY!!! IT'S A COMPLETELY REAL THING AND DEFINITELY NOT MADE UP!!!! I DEFINITELY GRADUATED FROM SCHOOL!!! I DID THE THING WHERE YOU GET THE SCROLL AND CAP AND YOU THROW THE CAP IN THE AIR WITH ALL YOUR FRIENDS!!! FRIENDS I DEFINITELY HAVE!!!!"

This wasn't sad at all.

Nonetheless, Papyrus couldn't wait to see the puzzles. Despite his animosity for Hotland's intense heat, he's sure the puzzles will... Oh.

"WAIT, WHERE ARE THE PUZZLES? THIS IS JUST A BUNCH OF AIR VENTS!!!! WHERE'S THE PASSION?!?! THE CULTURE?!?! THE SOPHISTICATION?!?!" Papyrus vented to himself. Calmly. "GAHH!!! THE THINGS I HAVE TO DO FOR THE SAKE OF BROTHERDOM. HOOD!!! BROTHERHOOD."

Heaving a heavy sigh, Papyrus reluctantly stepped onto the air vent, then had the reasonable fear response anyone would have if they had to step on those things while there's an ocean of magma just underneath them.

"AAAAAAGGGHGJGJJGJFHF?!?!!!!"

Luckily, Papyrus did NOT fall into an ocean of magma. Instead, he faceplanted on the next platform, his scarf doing a great job at covering his shame.

If one listened closely, they could hear a disgruntled skeleton groaning into the strange mixture of rocks and dry dirt he just splatted on.

"I'M SO GLAD I DON'T LIVE IN HOTLAND."

"WELL, THIS IS QUITE THE PREDICAMENT!"

Papyrus tapped his (presumably "chiselled") chin in thought, trying to bypass this inconveniently locked door. He knew there was an air vent back there, but he didn't feel like risking his life by letting it launch him over a pit of magma. That's just not responsible. None of these puzzles were responsible!

So with that option out of the way... The next step would obviously require some responsible property damage!

"ALRIGHT, DOOR!" The skeleton took a battle stance, summoning his regular bone attacks as if he was ready for a fight. Which, in a way, he was. He even summoned a giant bone the size of a wizard staff, like the ones you see in fantasy movies. Except this staff was just a giant magic bone as opposed to a cool stick with gems all over it. "LET'S SEE IF YOU CAN MATCH MY MAGICAL PROWESS!!!! BONE ATTACKS!!!! CHARGE!!!!"

With that battle cry, the self-proclaimed warrior threw everything he had at the giant, reinforced stone door. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to budge.

Papyrus huffed and puffed, but he didn't give up. He started making wild gestures and posed dramatically, while the door stood tall and strong. "I SEE... A WORTHY OPPONENT. WELL, YOU PICKED THE WRONG BATTLE, DOOR!!! I ASSUME YOUR NAME IS... DORY!!! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE NEVER BEEN DEFEATED IN DOOR BATTLING, DORY!!! AND I NEVER WILL!!! HERE COMES MY MEGA ATTACK!!!! NYEEEEHHHHHH!!!!!!!"

With an even fiercer battle cry, Papyrus took his bone baton and swung it at the door!

The bone snapped in half. And one half flew into the lava.

"CURSES!!!!" Frustrated, the inconvenienced skeleton decided to try and kick the door instead. He's pretty sure he heard one of his phalanges crack as he did so.

He cried again, but this time it wasn't a battle cry. It was the cry of a very hurt skeleton, clutching his foot and lying on the floor, as if it was the most painful injury he has ever had in his life. It was not.

"OWWWWWW!!!! OWOWOWOWOWOWWWWW..." After the big baby was done bawling his inexplicable googly eyes out, he got on one knee and put a fist to his chest, facing away from the door and shedding a single tear. "YOU... DEFEATED ME... DORY..."

...

And of course he snapped back not even a moment later.

"WELL, TIME TO TRY OUT THAT PUZZLE NOW!" He marched towards the air vent like he DIDN'T just attempt destruction of public property.

...Yeah. No. Papyrus wasn't going to trust an air vent. If you have to get somewhere, you have to do it yourself! And luckily, the sly skeleton had a trick up his sleeve!

He took a big leap across the gap, almost as if he just took flight.

"HUH. WONDER WHY I DIDN'T DO THAT BEFORE." Papyrus pondered as he purposefully approached the lever puzzle on the other side. Sitting next to it is what appeared to be a very miserable Vulkin, sat on the ground beside in the troubled fetal position.

"OH!!! HELLO, LITTLE GUY!!! AREN'T YOU GOING TO COMPLETE THE PUZZLE?"

"No..." The childlike Vulkin whimpered. "I don't knows how."

"WELL, THAT'S A SHAME..." After a moment of thought, Papyrus perked up a kind smile towards the Vulkin. "WELL, LUCKY FOR YOU, YOU'RE IN THE PRESENCE OF A PUZZLE MASTER!!! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM AN EXPERT AT PUZZLES, AND I WILL BE MORE THAN HAPPY TO TEACH YOU THE ROPES!!!!"

"Reallys?"

"WHY, OF COURSE!!!" Like the heroic figure he is, Papyrus posed and let his scarf flap in the... wind? "IT'S LIKE TEACHING A MAN TO FISH!!!! IF YOU TEACH A FISH TO MAN... NO, MAN TO FISH FOR A DAY... WAIT... THAT'S NOT HOW THE- WELL MY POINT STILL STANDS!!! COME ON, LET'S FIGURE THIS PUZZLE OUT TOGETHER!"

He held his hand out. "I BELIEVE IN YOU!"

After a moment's hesitation, Vulkin took his hand with a grateful smile. Side by side, the duo tried every lever combination, until they finally heard a clicking sound!

The sound of Dora's ultimate defeat!

"AHA!!! YOU SEE?! NO DOOR STANDS IN THE WAY OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS!! NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!!!"

"Wows! I can't believe you dids it! Vulkin must thank you!"

"OH, PLEASE, DON'T MENTION IT TOO MUCH!" Papyrus puts a hand to his chest, "humble" as ever. "I COULDN'T HAVE DONE IT ALONE, AFTER ALL!" He knew he totally could have, but he wanted to make Vulkin feel special. After all, part of being a good teacher is applying positive reinforcement to students who have done a good job.

"Still! You taught me so much! In return, Vulkin will supply you with health!"

"HEALTH?"

What happened next was quite a turn. The tiny volcano monster, excited as ever, start spawning in bullets that definitely, absolutely, did not look GREEN!

Papyrus' eyes bulge out of his eye sockets. He doesn't have time to spar!

"OH, WOWIE... UM, SORRY, VULKIN, BUT I CANNOT KEEP MY BROTHER WAITING!!! I'LL SPAR WITH YOU ANOTHER TIME!!!!"

"Waits!"

It was too late. Papyrus was already booking it through Dory. He didn't even have time to brag about how he faked the door out and ensured his own victory!

Luckily, the bullets could only go so far before they disintegrated completely.

Further along the path, Papyrus found that it's blocked by a myriad of lasers. The lasers were only two colours.

The blue lasers were consistently sliding up and down the path. It was almost mesmerising to Papyrus, really. He knew what blue lasers meant. He vaguely remembered Sans teaching him what blue attacks do back when they started developing their own magic in Fourth Year.

Blue stop signs. When you see a stop sign, you stop, so imagine blue stop signs.

Sans always had the strangest analogies.

Although, those still orange lasers are new to Papyrus. What were they even for?

"HMM... HOW ODD. IT APPEARS THAT A NEW CHALLENGER HAS APPEARED. HMM..."

...

"I'M GOING TO EAT IT!!!!"

Papyrus quickly learned that lasers aren't edible, just like how lamps aren't edible!

617/680 HP

He attempted to eat all of the orange lasers with the exact same result.

Luckily, Papyrus eventually caught onto the orange lasers' real function of only hitting those that stay still!

609/680 HP

Eventually.

"THANK GOD I DON'T LIVE IN HOTLAND!"

He really wished that Vulkin actually knew how green bullets work.

"STUPID LASERS, STUPID DORY, STUPID LAB VISION THING, STUPID STUPID STU- WAIT... DOTH MY EYES DECEIVE ME?! WELL, YES, BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE ANY EYES, BUT OH MY GOD!!!!!"

The elated skeleton proceeded to put his hands on his goofy face and wipe his feet all over the rocky dirt, for the sole reason that there is an elevator! Finally, he can skip everything and go straight to the comedy show!

"HECK NYEH! HECK NYEH! HECK NYEH! HECK NYEH! HECK NYEH!" Papyrus chanted as he stepped inside the elevator and pressed the button that would take him to the third floor. Now, all he had to do was wait and wipe his boots on the metal ground some more.

"ELE-VATE! EVE-VATE! EVE-VATE!"

The elevator began elevating.

"EVE-VATE!!! EVE-FATE FASTER!!!"

Clang! Click! Rumble! The elevator shook just under Papyrus' feet. Startled, the skeleton gripped onto the handrails as hard as he can, half-collapsed against the wall.

"WHAT THE- HEY!!! IS THE ELEVATOR SICK OR SOMETHING? DO YOU NEED A COUGH DROP?"

Silence. The elevator door opened.

"OH. UM... WELL, I HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER SOON!" Stepping out of the elevator, Papyrus turned the corner, expecting a glowing resort. Instead, all he found even more ridiculous puzzles.

"GODDAMMIT!!!!!" The unlucky skeleton stomped on the ground in disbelief, before turning back to the elevator, only to spot yet another inconveniently placed sign.

Our sincerest apologies, but the elevator can only move between two floors right now. We will make sure it's up and running very soon!

One might wonder how a skeleton's eye sockets can twitch. The answer was magic.

"I HATE HOTLAND!!!!!" The frustrated monster kicked up the pebbles in the sand and dirt, only to somehow get some caught in his eye socket. "AAAAAAAAAA-"

The entirety of the second floor was a mess. They made mazes out of AIR VENTS, for goodness sake! AIR VENTS!

"THE BEST PUZZLES ALWAYS HAVE SOME SORT OF... UGH, FIRE INVOLVED!" Papyrus ranted once again, opting out of using the air vents and just jumping all over the mazes. It's definitely more efficient than actually doing them, despite being a puzzle enthusiast himself. "OR SPIKES!!! THE BEST PUZZLES ALWAYS HAVE SPIKES!!! THEY'RE MEANT TO... ARGH, TRAIN YOUR MIND!!! TO TEST YOUR SKILLS!!! HECK, EVEN SOME PHYSICAL PROWESS... NGNGNGH!!! IS ALWAYS INVOLVED IN SOME CAPACITY!!!! THEY ARE PROFICIENT!!! AND VERY CHILD-FRIENDLY!!!! CHILDREN, GRR, LOVE SPIKES!!!! AND FLAMES!!!! I LOVED SPIKES AND FLAMES!!!! I STILL DO!!!!"

Another grunt and he officially leapt over the vent maze. Thank goodness!

...Wait, this was the wrong way.

"AAARRRGGHH, THE ENTIRETY OF HOTLAND IS A MAZE!!!!"

With an overdramatic stomp (that made dust fly into his mouth, gross), Papyrus turned back and decided to just take the conveyor.

The conveyor propelled Papyrus towards an air vent.

"WHAT?!"

The air vent propelled Papyrus back to the conveyor.

"THE?!"

The conveyor propelled Papyrus back to the air vent.

"HEY!!!'

The air vent propelled Papyrus back to the conveyor.

"STOP!!!"

The conveyor propelled Papyrus back to-

"WHO DESIGNED THIS?!?!"

The air vent propelled Papyrus back to-

"I'M SO GLAD I DON'T LIVE IN HOTLAND!!!!!"

Finally! A clear area!

Oddly exhausted for such a hyperactive skeleton, Papyrus took the opportunity to sit on the pavement and try to enjoy the view to the best of his ability, while rocking back and forth.

Back... forth... back... forth...

The action soothed Papyrus, along with the act of rubbing his hands together like a reptilian monster in Snowdin that's trying to stay warm. Never in a million years would Papyrus admit it, but he really needed a break.

Will this make him late for Sans' performance? Maybe not. He still had plenty of time, after all. Besides, Papyrus knew deep down that he will feel terrible if he missed Sans' performance. However, he also knew that if anyone will understand why he's hypothetically late, it's Sans. It doesn't make Papyrus feel any better, though.

The CORE could be seen from where Papyrus was sitting. It's practically in front of his face, albeit at a distance. He doesn't know why, but something about it just feels... familiar to him. It's the same thing as the lab. That weird... deja-vu feeling. That feeling where something, or someone, was missing.

No matter what Papyrus tried, however, his memory always failed him. It's like something was trying to keep him from remembering anything. His childhood was blurry at best. He vaguely remembered... green grass... and trees... and Sans.

What is with Hotland and triggering this kind of feeling? Papyrus scowled at the ground and tried to shake it off. After all, he has a brother to get to.

No more time for dilly-dally! The Great Papyrus cannot be late!