#which is an extremely aggravating way to edit

[transcarcinization]

does anyone know of a photo editor with gif support? gif playback while editing is preferred but i would take anything atp

[gardenvarietygay]

Book Review* - On Guerilla Gardening by Richard Reynolds

I don’t read many books, I prefer audiobooks, and I don’t read many nonfiction books in any format. I’m a person who prefers to listen to a fictional story or at least something narrative. However, my husband very sweetly got me this book for Christmas since he knows I’ve been curious about the topic.

The subtitle to this book is “a handbook for gardening without boundaries” but I think that the title alone, which suggests an academic treatise on the broad strokes of a subject ie “On Medieval Chivalric Codes of Honor” or “On Governance” is more fitting. (I believe the actual title Reynolds is referencing is the manual On Guerilla Warfare by Mao Zedong, make of that what you will.) The first 117 pages of this book are pure tedium. If someone needed to be convinced that planting flowers by roadsides was worthwhile, I think the author might talk them into it and back out by the end. Reynolds spends his time detailing real guerilla movements, chastising people for making gorilla/guerrilla gardening jokes, and explaining that flowers are prettier than concrete. I found it muddled, condescending and boring but when I looked up reviews of this book people seemed to think it was refreshing or something.

From page 121 onward, we have the practical advice. Actually, we have some very impractical advice surrounded by way more introduction than necessary. Even though Reynolds has spent 117 pages bashing you over the head with war metaphors, he still feels the need to include yet more war imagery before every bit of advice. I wasn’t offended by the WMD jokes or the frequent references to guns, it was certainly and odd choice but whatever, I was just annoyed that he kept this stupid gimmick up for all 247 pages. Sometimes jokes aren’t bad because they’re offensive, they’re simply not funny.

Writing style aside, the advice is pretty middling. The plants recommended are just based on the author’s personal experience growing plants on medians in London. Gardening is like politics, extremely local. I’m not begrudging the man his foxgloves and daffodils but they’re just not a good choice for an internationally-distributed book. He actually recommends planting invasive plants (as in plants that he knows are invasive in most places including the UK) so that they take over. He includes the barest of caveats about making sure you keep them in check, however the gordian knot of finding that balance will not be untied for us. Since specific gardening advice becomes useless before it even crosses a time zone, it strikes me that rather than spending 12 pages on plant recommendations, they should’ve simply cut this section or suggested broad categories for the international release.

We are told that seed bombs are the preferred method to scatter seeds and that some people put them in eggshells, some people mould them into guns (just like in war!!), some people put industrial binding agents into them, and some people use a device that somehow uses laughing gas. There are no recipes or real instructions, just anecdotes. There is no explanation of how laughing gas aids in seed spreading, that one might be a joke. On subjects such as water, tools, choosing locations, etc. the advice is very basic but solid enough.

To be frank, once I got into the anecdotes without advice section I started skimming and never stopped. There’s every possibility that on page 240 of this book he really turns things around and makes this mess into a manifesto but I don’t think that would save it for me.

This book left me generally unimpressed. The concept was cute until it was aggravating, the writing was such a repetitive slog that I ended up skimming over paragraphs, and the advice seemed either so specific that it couldn’t be generalized or so basic that it needn’t be printed and sold. The cover is cute, that’s a good thing because it will be staying closed on my bookshelf for a long time. I believe the first edition of this book came out in the early 2000s and it shows. Maybe if I read this book in 2008 I’d have been charmed but in 2024 I’m just annoyed and confused.

*Inspired by @plantyhamchuk’s gardening book reviews.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for assuming a fellow student used ChatGTP on one of our group projects?

i’m in my late 20s, and i decided to pursue a (post bachelor) degree where one of the required courses is also open to bachelor degree students. this is a class that is heavy on fieldwork, meaning we go into the field, and then go home and write a paper about it, and since this group is small enough, group reports are done with everyone collaborating, no sub groups. our first report was pretty much torpedoed by our professor, who took serious issue with how we didn’t call in ahead for some format changes, didn’t write the report in a way she liked, dismissed our photographs as unprofessional, and almost accused one of our members of committing plagiarism because for one section of the report, we were asked to do risk analysis. since we had never been taught an official way to do it, and the professor gave us an old report from a few years ago as a reference point, that member used it to base her own analysis and the professor went so ballistic, our member was almost in tears. so now you know that the professor is extremely sensitive about the topic of plagiarism. of which she considers chatgtp a part of.

now, the second time around i was in charge of managing the report, and i decided to make it absolutely perfect so we could minimize any friction with the professor. so, same as last time, the group distributed report sections amongst ourselves, and i would edit and coordinate so that the end result would be coherent and to our professor’s liking. and when it came time for me to start editing the document, i start with the introduction, which sounded very familiar in tone, and it read very nonsensically to me. almost like no one who was actually trying to convey an idea would write those sentences. when it dawned on me that possibly, the reason why the sentences sounded so nonsensical was because the writer could have used chatgtp, but that the tone and topics sounded straight up lifted from the introduction i wrote for our first group report, i was pretty damn mad, but i decided to take a diplomatic approach. 

i contacted another group member who had formerly been a students association leader and asked her to mediate for me: had this student used chatgtp lifting from my introduction? his response was that no, he hadn’t, but that he had “taken inspiration” from my introduction to write his. hearing this was very aggravating, especially since the mediator a. disagreed that it sounded AI generated and b. said maybe i should be flattered because i’m just a really good writer. this despite the fact that the introductions for the two reports did not have anything to do with one another. they had different objectives and different skills to practice, so even if he had just “taken inspiration” from my introduction, he had written a terrible introduction that could barely be understood, paying no attention to what he was supposed to be writing. so at that point i just took over that section in the rewrite because i felt like i couldn’t trust him to actually put in any work and contribute.

later on in the editing process, i also caught some suspicious sentences in another section, written by someone else, that sounded like someone had copy pasted from another source. i didn’t think of this as an intentional attempt at plagiarism, more like whoever wrote it had pasted some reference sentences to write his own things rewording the core idea and then citing the sources. but i still took the time to message the guy and tell him maybe he should be more careful in case our professor got on our case over it and started yelling plagiarism about it. and his answer was to be offended that i would even accuse him of such a thing, and that maybe i should be careful about levying such serious accusations at people.

this guy had never been cold to me in my life. i think the other two must have talked about my chatgtp suspicions in some other group chat and now i was the bad guy for having even briefly suspected that something had been up. i decided to just concentrate in doing my job and ignore whatever shit these people had started about me behind my back, and what do you know, we get our report back with perfect marks. no thank yous. no word about it in the group chat where we organized. this despite the fact that when we handed in our first report, much appreciation was given to the girl that helped organize the report hand-in. hell, about half an hour before i handed in the report the girl i asked to be our mediator sent a meme saying “leaving before i end up looking like an idiot” before leaving the group chat which was. an insane thing to have to face in response to my working my ass off to make the report work.

if it were just the guy that i had accused of using chatgtp who turned on me that were acting like an asshole, i could take it, maybe that the mediator, but it’s ridiculous that we turned things around completely from the first report and no one’s mentioned the report since i handed it in. did they all just suddenly decide to enforce the silent treatment? did i not approach it in the right way? i said at multiple points that i wasn’t interested in bringing this up to our professor because as i mentioned earlier, she can be kind of a pain to deal with, especially where alleged plagiarism is being discussed.

for context: the group member who wrote the suspicious introduction had never been a very involved student in the class, which could be a constant bummer considering it was a very group oriented fieldwork class. he had previously mentioned he had no idea what to put in the introduction. i still don’t think i would have given a single thought about his previous track record in class if this incident hadn’t happened.

What are these acronyms?

[itendtothinkalot]

stupid in love

Summary: why can the whole world see how in love you are with soobin but he can’t? 

Genre: Romance, angst, fluff, comedy, 

Characters: soobin x f!reader, friends!txt x reader, idol!reader, idol!txt

Words: 2,696

Completed (oneshot)

Note: i didnt proofread this 

You weren’t necessarily sure when your feelings for Soobin had been amplified but you knew it was just weeks after the two of you had met. You were the only female trainee in Big Hit at that point of time which made it difficult for you to find other female friends but you pulled through with the little you had.

You had debuted just a year before TXT did as a solo artist. You could say you did fairly well as an artist. Not to bust your own balls but your fanbase had been incredibly strong and supportive. You weren’t going to lie, you did have hopes to debut in a girl group, you were incredibly lonely at times but you did have the boys to lean on when you needed, afterall they were your friends in private and publicly. 

“I just ate! Thank you for asking!” You answered, as you scrolled through the copious amount of comments pouring in. 

Huening chuckled, “Wait! Did you see that comment?” 

You shook your head. Huening aggressively scrolled through the comments, finally landing on a comment that aggravated you.

‘When are you announcing your relationship with Soobin?’ You read in your head before shooting a glare at Kai, who knew of your one-sided crush.

The fans of TXT and yours had been fed with more than enough content from the both of you. Ever since you had announced your close friendship with TXT through multiple instagram stories, your friendship had blown up in several ways. From photoshoots to variety shows, the fans loved your friendship. You weren’t very surprised that there were pairings of you and the different members but you were extremely surprised to find out that Soobin and you weren’t the most popular pairing that people liked especially since fans had called you out for looking at Soobin with honey dripping from your eyes and well…they were right. 

“And the winner of today’s episode is the both of you!” The producer handed you and Soobin the prize.

You looked over to the taller male and grinned. He looked great that day. His dishevelled black hair, his collared blue shirt that you thought he looked great in, the tight jeans that accentuated his very rounded plum of an ass (not that you’d ever say that to him). You were completely aware that you WERE looking…no…staring at him with actual honey tears. Your eyes complete crescents as you stared at his lips, then to his nose then to his eyes in complete. utter. adoration.  

Oh fuck, you were still recording.

“AAAAAH!” Beomgyu screamed in agony, dragging you out from your train of thought. “THAT’S UNFAIR! FUCK!” He continued cursing. 

You made a mental note to check out the episode when it was posted. It was definitely getting censored. You continued laughing as you teased Beomgyu who had been working a little too hard to win the game the producers had prepared only to lose because you and Soobin had correctly guessed that he was the mafia. 

“Come on! You were so obvious!” You fought, taunting him further.

“OH REALLY? HOW?!” Beomgyu’s face reddened every minute he thought of how close he was to winning. His fists curled as he ran towards you – jokingly of course. The two of you had a love-hate relationship and the show thrived with the help of your relationship dynamics with Beomgyu. It was mainly the reason why you would’ve guessed there were many MANY many many edits of you and him on Tiktok. 

“I am literally disgusted.” You belched, as your eyes were glued onto the screen. A video of you and Beomgyu looking at each other while Chris Browns’ ‘Under the Influence’ played. “Why did you have to show me that?”

“I’m just saying…we would’ve made a good looking couple if it wasn’t for your ginormous crush on Soobin.” Beomgyu teased.

“Say it louder…I’m sure he didn’t hear you! I dare you, Choi Beomgyu.” Your hands rushed to cover his big fat mouth. 

“Relax, he’s still recording. You know it’s about time you told him you liked him. It’s been 4 years.” Beomgyu laughed.

As much as Beomgyu annoyed you, you knew he was right.

You were making coffee on the set of your variety show. You felt your eyes closing from the long hours of filming and definitely needed another cup of 3-in-1 coffee. It was 3am. You don’t think your assistant could find a 24/7 starbucks anywhere near the suburbs of Korea even if they tried. 

“Hey.” Soobin greeted, his hands fiddling with the lint in his pockets as he stood beside you, eyeing your every move. 

Using your teeth to open the packet of coffee, your eyes lazily looked up at him, giving him a slight nod before turning your head back to your styrofoam cup. 

“Someone’s sleepy.” He laughed. 

“Give me a break. I’ve been up since yesterday filming my album photoshoot and now I’m here playing the wildest version of duck duck goose with Beomgyu yelling every now and then. The only thing keeping me sane right now is that you’re here.” You blurted. 

“Well…that’s kind of why I’m talking to you.” Soobin reasoned.

“Huh?”

“You drink coffee to stay awake. I talk to you. You’re like my own shot of espresso.” 

As tired as you were, you could feel blood rushing to your cheeks. You turned away, hoping he wouldn’t catch your tomato coloured cheeks. 

“You’re an idiot.” You mumbled through your teeth, biting your cheeks to hide your smile.

“Gyu was right.” 

“What? What did he say?” 

“You show affection through aggression. Maybe that’s why I kind of thought you liked him.” Soobin said, before finding his way back on set.

After that conversation with Soobin, you sort of strayed away from him. Did he know you like him? Why was he being incredibly strategic and quiet about it? You didn’t wanna find out. Not till you were forced to.

“And you’re watching Buzzfeed’s balance game!” The 6 of you shouted harmoniously.

Beomgyu rummaged through the tub of questions, using his grubby hands to pull out a question. 

“Would you rather be able to travel to the future or go back to the past?” 

The 6 of you thought long and hard for the question, bickering back and forth to what your answers were. 

“The next question!” Kai said as he pulled another question from the jar. 

“Would you rather confess to someone you like or be confessed to?” 

Beomgyu and Kai’s eyes landed on you almost immediately. You rolled your eyes and nudged the both of them, hoping that the producers at Buzzfeed would cut that specific part out.

“I think my best friend should answer this question.” Beomgyu giggled as he passed the floor to you.

“I…um… I think I’d rather be curious of the persons’ feelings towards me rather than be flat out rejected. I don’t think I could ever handle being rejected especially from someone I truly like.” 

“Why are you so sure the person you’d like would reject you?” Yeonjun butted in. 

“I’m just saying…! This is hypothetical!” 

“But you do know you’re really pretty and funny, right?” Kai spoke. 

“GUYS! THIS IS HYPOTHETICAL! DON’T MAKE THIS SAD AND INTO SOMETHING IT’S NOT!” 

“We’re just saying… we love you!  And if you do get rejected, there’s always Beomgyu!” Kai chuckled. 

“Don’t make me throw up.”

“Wait, wait, wait but like what if the person likes you back?” Taehyun joined. 

“Are we really prolonging this terrible conversation?”

“But Taehyun’s right! What if the person likes you? Would you confess then?” This time it was Soobin who spoke.

“I mean I wouldn’t know if he did like me or not! Besides, I’d only confess if I was really really reaaally sure.” 

“Then what about you?” Yeonjun looked over to Soobin.

“I’m the same. I’d have to be sure she felt the same way as me to confess.”

What was the point of that horrid game? Did Beomgyu and Kai team up with the producers and coerced you into this stupid interview? God, everyone’s gonna know you’re in love with Soobin and everyone’s gonna know you’re probably getting rejected.

You cringed as you scrolled past tiktok to see the amount of edits that had come out from that stupid Buzzfeed video. Everyone was editing your comment and adding emotional Billie Eillish songs to it and you felt your fingers curl from pure cringe and agony. You loved your fans but God, they were making you look like you had already been rejected by Soobin. 

The only relief you got from Tiktok was that all your fans were too busy laughing at you rejecting Beomgyu to realise you had been staring at Soobin the entire time you had discussed the question.

“I don’t know how people are still shipping you and I together. I thought I made it clear you were gross.” You cried to Beomgyu who was still giggling at the tiktok edits of the both of you. 

“Don’t blame them! Everyone loves a good enemies to lovers trope!” Beomgyu shoved another tiktok to your face. “You know…I’m really surprised no one caught you going gaga over Soobin. Maybe it’s because I’m friends with you, I can sense the look of absolute desperation and pining on your face. Which to be fair, is like your only look when you’re with Soobin.”

“Do you have anything else to say to me besides the usual you look desperate for Soobin?” 

“No. Not really.”

Turns out, people did end up noticing the look you gave Soobin. Beomgyu was right. Your crush on Soobin was spiralling. It was about time the netizens found out about your crush. You weren’t being careful. You weren’t being quiet about it either. Your face said it all. 

Going on the internet a day after wasn’t that great either. Here you were on the forums looking at your shared fandom clowning you. 

PRETTY SURE SHE LIKES SOOBIN 

Guys…was i the only one that noticed how she was looking at soobin? Do you think somethings going on? Hahaha to be honest i found it quite cute! I like her and Beomgyu together but i think i may abandon ship and jump aboard this ship instead!!!!

1. [+164, -14] Honey couple finally being recognised ㅋㅋㅋ 

2. [+133, -10] Noooo! I want the enemy couple to be together!

3. [+103, -5] Everyone’s talking about how she’s looking at Soobin but why is no one talking about how Soobin is looking at her in this video? ㅋㅋㅋ [link]

Now that caught your attention. Your fingers hurriedly pressed the link the fan had posted and it had brought you to an edited video of the recent episode of your shared show that had been aired.

It was right after the both of you had won the round. You had forgotten to watch the episode though you had promised yourself to watch it. You got busy with your schedule and barely had time for yourself.

As Beomgyu was screaming, the fan had cropped the part of the video of only you and Soobin. Straight after being snapped out of your train of thought, you had focused solely on Beomgyu who had continued his neverending cursing. Soobin was there, eyes glued onto you. His lips stretched from ear to ear every single time you laughed or smiled or showed any sort of reaction. You didn’t realise that his eyes were stuck on you. It hadn’t moved for a solid 3 minutes and 34 seconds. 

Holy fuck. Does Soobin like me back?

You felt your fingers working its way to text Beomgyu this video. 

‘GYU…Is this proof?!??!!??!?!’ You typed out and hit send.

Not realising that you had posted it on your…main. Instagram. Stories. 

Your eyes widened at your horrifying mistake. Only a second had passed and you were sure 100 people had already seen it. All of a sudden your brain didn’t work. Your hands didn’t move fast enough and soon it was a 1000. Finally, the video got deleted but…to no avail. Thousands of fans had the luck of screen recording the video that you had posted with your actual caption. You were dead.

The next thing you knew your phone was blowing up.

Hueninggie: NOONA…PLEASE…STEP AWAY FROM YOUR PHONE.

Gyu: when i told you to update me i didnt mean on ig stories…omg ure so dumb but thanks for the shoutout lol

Yeonjun: LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOO

Taehyun: I literally thought you were smarter than all of us. I guess I’m the dumb one for believing that.

Soobin: ?

You shook your head. No…no…no…not Soobin. NOT SOOBIN. Anyone but him. 

“AHHH!” You squeaked, throwing your phone across the room. 

You had to film the new episode of your show in about an hour and here you were a coffee in one hand and your dignity falling out of your ass every second. You felt everyones’ eyes on you as you quietly made your way to the dressing room. 

“DON’T!” You yelled as you walked in and looked over to your stylists who had started giggling the moment you entered. “Please don’t…” 

After you were done with hair and make up, you had sent your stylists away to get you some coffee though you didn’t need any. You just needed time alone before the inevitability of your doom had begun (filming with the love of your life who doesn’t feel the same way and how the world knows you’re in love with him even though he’s not and your life is falling apart but ok whatever).

You had alerted the boys not to annoy you when you were in the dressing room. You did not want to see them or hear anything from them after the messages they had sent you but the knocks on your dressing room door was getting more infuriating. Stomping to the door, you opened it, scowling, “Gyu, I will castrate you like a cat if you don’t fuc- Soobin!” You panicked. Your eyes doubled in size as the last bit of your sanity left you.

“Hi.” The bags under his eyes were prominent. He still looked as handsome as ever but he did look incredibly lethargic. At that point, it had already been 3 days since you posted the instagram story and 2 days and 23 hours since you hadn’t replied to his punctuated message. “Did I do something wrong?” His voice breaking.

“What?” You immediately grabbed both his hands and pulled him to sit on the sofa. “What’s wrong?” Immediately, concern was the first thing that washed over you. Fuck how YOU were feeling over this, Soobin was way more important!

“I’ve been wracking my brain and I thought you liked me but you didn’t reply me or call me…is this a sick joke?”

“What?”

“When you posted that video I was sure you liked me. I got really excited about it and went to Gyu and he told me it was an accident and that I should really talk to you about it but I tried to and you ignored me for 3 days straight. Did I do something wrong?”

“Soo-”

“I was wrong in that interview. I was wrong when I said I agreed with you. I need to know. I need to know if you like me and I need you to reject me so I can move on.”

You could feel your soul levitating out of your body and looking back at you in the cheesiest way possible. Soobin liked you back? 

“I can’t reject you.” You drifted off.

“God…I know I said I like you but you can’t just be selfish and keep me fo-”

“Let me finish! I like you. I think I’ve liked you for about 4 years now.”

“Oh. That’s a really long time.” Soobin scratched the back of his head as he blinked his eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m basically a pro at one-sided crushes.” You chuckled awkwardly.

“I’m sorry.” Soobin reached out for your hands once more, resting his large palms above your hands, his fingers dangling out from the corners of your palms, his nails caressing your thighs. 

“For?” You chuckled, trying not to be hyper aware of his touch. 

“For taking so long to realise my feelings for you.”

[nametakensff]

Lovely Mess (D/isco E/lysium, M/M)

I wrote this really quickly but then had a week full of interruptions before being able to edit it - but anyway, here's 2.3k of H/arry and J/ean being gross 🥰

Pre-Martinaise, Pre-amnesia H/arry gets J/ean to indulge him in the archive rooms of the station. Things gets messy (literally)

~~~~~

Content:

M/M, H/arry has a sneezing fetish, J/ean gets off on indulging him, manually induced sneezes, mentions of hay fever, rapid sneezes, dry humping, prelude to anal sex, anal fingering, spray, sneezing on someone, LOTS of mess, graphic descriptions of mess, verbal teasing, dirty talk, praise kink, embarrassment/humiliation, nose blowing, handkerchiefs

CW: Mess (I mean it), complicated/toxic relationship, abusive language, mentions of alcohol abuse, H/arry is extremely pushy, J/ean should love himself a little bit more, rough sex, degrading language directed towards the fetish, H/arry spits on J/ean's asshole, they're both idiots who enable each other's worst behaviour even if they do care deeply for each other

NSFW - Minors DNI!

“Hhd’Tishh!! ‘TTtsch’uu! Kt’tssch’iew!! Ttsschh’uu!!”

Jean rocked forward helplessly, shivering as each sneeze seemed only to aggravate the tickle rather than alleviate it. Of course, said tickle could only truly be assuaged if the source of its insistence was removed. Given that the reason he was sneezing himself stupid was because of Harry’s greedy and merciless inducing, he didn’t have much faith that he’d find relief any time soon.

“Fuck, Jean! Bless you!”

And there it was. Jean’s face heated at the blessing Harry all but moaned, already pinkened by the supreme effort of releasing an endless stream of tickly little sneezes. Every time he pondered these affairs with a clear head not clouded by impending or recently completed orgasm – when he analysed the situation objectively, the way in which Harry would pester him and he would indulge - he often wondered why he gave in at all. But without fail, the second Harry would approach him, all heated eyes and wandering hands, Jean would cave. Harry might be the deviant with the obscure fetish, but then what did that make him? What was his excuse for all the many times he would get so worked up over the attention he’d end up cumming harder and faster than Harry?

Harry smiled at him, drunk with arousal and power (and yes, okay, the Irish coffee Jean had watched him fix himself this morning). Jean shouldn’t let him treat him like a plaything, not really, but at the very least with Harry, he cared – which was more than could be said about some of the other men (and women) he had permitted to fuck him. He may have a shitty way of showing it half the time, the selfish maniac, but he at least had the decency to express remorse when he did happen to hurt Jean. And it wasn’t as if Jean was an angel. He dished out plenty of hurt himself. It was the nature of their partnership, and of their friendship. Go hard or go home, no in-betweens. Which was probably another reason why Jean was pressed up against the uncomfortable shelves of the archive room, his superior officer’s muscular thigh wedged securely between his own whilst he clutched at him for support, spraying Harry with each and every sneeze that was tortured out of him.

Harry jiggled the little wire he used for such occasions against the wall of Jean’s irritated nostril, and Jean heard the shuddering sigh of anticipation the older man couldn’t hold back as he watched his nostrils twitch and flare. It barely took any motion at all now to push him over the edge. He inhaled, a short, desperate little exclamation of breath before he was sneezing again, all over Harry’s hand, his wrist, and catching his face and shirt.

“Hupt’Tschu! Hhk’TsschUu! Hpt’tshh!-Tschh-Tschtt!! Hht-! Hh’AHtt’Tschhieww!! Putain…”

Harry groaned appreciatively, rocking his hips with each ticklish release. His cock was rock solid as he pressed against the younger man, and just the sensation of that huge erection prodding into him made Jean whine. He wanted Harry to bend him over and fuck him five minutes ago, already. He snuffled reflexively, and that was enough to send him over the edge for another violent triple.

“IhKk’TschHh!! Hh’itshiew!! Hgk’TISHh’ieww!!”

To his utter embarrassment, that final sneeze had been an incredibly messy affair alongside the regular dousing of spray. There now hung two small trails of clear mess, dripping down over his moustache.

“Fuck,” He murmured, blushing violently and reaching up to hide the display, even though Harry would have seen it, could not have missed it, watching him sneeze as he was through unblinking, starstruck eyes.

Jean bristled with indignation as Harry suddenly gripped his wrist and pinned it to his side, halting his attempt to clean himself up. He tried with his other hand, the one that had been gripping Harry’s bicep, but it was no use. That he worked out obsessively and had the body to show for it meant nothing in the face of the older man’s years of hardwired athleticism, even now that he used his arms to lift bottles of beer to his lips more than anything else. He could only stare daggers back at Harry, hoping to cow him into submission. Perhaps this would have worked at a time when Harry’s entire being wasn’t concentrated in the girthy length of his cock. But it was, and so it didn’t.

“Let go of me, you fucking maniac!” Jean spat, angry at Harry for merely smirking back at him and angrier at himself for finding that it made him even hotter.

“Nope. Nuh-uh. Not until you promise you’ll leave yourself alone.”

Jean blinked at him.

“I’ve got fucking snot running down my face, you moron, and it’s your fault. I’ll still fucking sneeze for you, just let me wipe it away.”

Harry didn’t budge. Jean felt his heart race when he realised that Harry’s eyes, pupils blown wide with arousal, were lingering over the sight of mess that was ever so gradually creeping down his face and threatening to slip over his closed lips. He sniffled thickly, nostrils flaring with effort, hoping to pull some of it away, but it barely made a difference. Harry exhaled, and Jean felt his cock twitching against his hip.

“You can clean up in a minute. Just. Keep going like that? I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

Jean knew he would, knew that Harry genuinely enjoyed making him cum, for all his flaws. He didn’t even care if it was a matter of machismo for the older man – he just wanted to have a fucking orgasm, and indulging Harry without resistance was the fastest way of getting one. He sniffled again, wincing just a little at the dense sound of it, before shaking Harry’s hands away and resting his own on the older man’s shoulders.

“Fine.” He grumbled, ignoring Harry’s toothy grin and tilting his head back slightly, nostrils already fluttering in anticipation. “Just don’t come crying to me when I make a mess of your fucking uniform.”

“I never do!” Harry eagerly replied, wasting no time in reinserting that devilish inducing tool.

Every little prod urged the tickle onwards with the most delicious building of pressure. Jean had never disliked the sensation of sneezing, but the sheer quantity of sneezes he was prone to, particularly with his hay fever, had somewhat desensitised him to how pleasurable of a reflex it truly was. He both hated and thrilled in the way Harry was brushing off on him, transforming a banal bodily function into something undeniably hedonistic.

One final prod of the tool, so devious and teasing that it brought fresh tears to his eyes, and Jean was buckling forward with the subsequent release.

“Hut’Tschuu!-Tish’iew!-Hh’tsSCHhuu!! Tishh’ieww-Tschtt!! Huh-! Kishh’uu! Dzsh’ieww!! Hhk’Tisshhiew!!”

There was no way he could open his eyes as the sneezes overwhelmed him, barely giving him a chance to breathe. He could feel himself approaching a desperate state of light-headedness, but damn it all, it felt so fucking good to purge the tickle, and the shameless moans Harry was making just elevated the eroticism to euphoric heights. He gave in to each sneeze, letting them do with him as they would. His cock throbbed and twitched in the painfully tight constraints of his trousers.

“IhGKk’Tschu!! Hgk’Tscch!!-Tshh-‘Tschieww!! Hupt’Tschh! Igk’Tshieww!! Tschh! Tsh! Hh-!”

Harry had at least removed that cruel little wire, and Jean could feel the sneezes winding down, perhaps due to lack of oxygen more than anything else. His breath scissored in and out of him, chest jumping with effort as he built up to one final, cleansing explosion.

“hhHAGk’TshHhieww!! Ah…”

Fuck. He was trembling, at last able to blink his bleary eyes open. His face felt hot with effort, tears streaming down his face as his breathing gradually evened out again.

“Ohh, Vic. Jean. Good boy.”

Harry murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to his burning cheek. Those words, predictably, went straight to his solid cock and he blushed right up to the tips of his ears. He was so, so embarrassingly easy.

When Harry pulled back, Jean took the time to assess the damage. His fit had dislodged no small amount of clear mess, built up over hours of aggravating hay fever and Harry’s ruthless tickling. It had spattered over Harry’s chest, some glittering in the chest hair that peaked out through the unbuttoned upper section of his shirt, the rest leaving specks of damp discolouration as his sneezes saturated the fabric. He looked down to where their legs locked, and even as he did so another drop spilled from the pinkened rim of one nostril to join the damage there. As with Harry’s shirt, the material stretched across his thigh was darkened with slippery moisture. Jean noticed he had even managed to sneeze, or drip, onto the straining material across Harry’s crotch, which throbbed happily as he regarded it.

He didn’t need a mirror to visualise the mess he had made of himself; he could feel the result of his body-shaking fit dripping past his moustache and over his lips, down to his bearded chin. Judging by the damp sensation of his shirt clinging to his pectorals, he’d definitely drenched parts of his own chest as well.

The droplet that had recently escaped now gathered anew, hanging precariously in place. Harry had noticed, because how could he not, and he took the opportunity to tease Jean’s sensitive nostril, ever so delicately, tracing the flaring rim with one outstretched finger.

Jean gasped immediately, cringing at the intensity of the tickle, and sneezed all over Harry’s hand.

��AEgkK’TschIeww!! HHd’TtSChHhht!! Oh m’by god…”

He blinked and shivered, relishing in the trembling aftermath and unable to help the soft little whimper of pleasure that slipped through his lips, only partially open to allow himself to breathe. He snuffled, the sound of it crackling and obscenely congested.

Harry pulled his hand back, connected to Jean’s nostrils by one delicate, glistening strand before it stretched to its limit and fell away.

“Wow.” He smiled, sounding completely fucking enraptured, and held the hand up for Jean to see as he himself admired the prodigious results of that violent double. Jean blushed to see the skin glistening in the poorly lit room, slick and sticky. He was frightened for a second that Harry might actually lick himself clean, and even more frightened at the way his cock didn’t seem to wilt in the slightest, but thankfully Harry just wiped it off on the ruined material of his own shirt.

“Poor baby. So stuffy. You made such a lovely mess for me, Jean-Jean.”

He was saying the most ridiculous, unbelievable things in that gruff, rumbling voice of his, speaking more because he liked the sound of what he was saying over whether he thought Jean might actually enjoy it. Jean did enjoy it, though, and that fucking enraged him. He would always come back for more, no matter how strange or obscure the sex became, because he was a fucking fool and Harry could play him – just about anyone, really, but especially him – like a fucking fiddle.

“You’re a fucking pervert, Harry. A disgusting creep!”

He meant it, too, yet they both knew that this vitriol towards the particulars of Harry’s proclivities was a facade. In reality, Jean was angry because once again, Harry had pushed his boundaries and his buttons and he’d loved it anyway. His outburst only spurred Harry on, rubbing himself shamelessly on Jean’s hip.

“Yeahh, baby. I’m a downright tramp. But you fucking love it, Vic. I’m making you hard.”

Jean gasped as Harry’s baritone voice rumbled against him; he could feel it in his chest, the rasp of it echoing in his skull as Harry licked a line down the shell of his ear. The feeling of his facial hair rubbing against his cheek made him shudder. And he was right – he was so, so right. Jean was giddy with arousal, intoxicated with the utter filthiness of it all.

“Let me – let me clean myself up.” He managed, and Harry obeyed, giving Jean enough room to retrieve his handkerchief and indulge in a long, crackling blow. It was several such blows, in fact, and Jean squirmed as Harry refused to look away. He wondered if his body would soon become unable to distinguish between the twin burning flames of humiliation and intense arousal. He used the unsullied part of his handkerchief to clean his beard and moustache, hoping if he missed a spot Harry would let him know before the unavoidable walk of shame back to the bullpen.

“You okay?” Harry asked, voice far too fucking tender as he stroked at Jean’s cheek. He knew if he looked Harry in the eye his gaze would be equally as saccharine, and it made Jean want to scream, or melt. Maybe both.

“I’m fine. Fuck me, god dammit. Fuck me right now,” He snarled, bucking his hips against Harry and groaning as the older man immediately humped him back, pawing him all over.

“You gonna beg me for it?” Harry murmured against Jean’s lips, breathy with arousal.

“Fuck you.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“Neither the fuck are you, shitkid.”

“It’s okay,” Harry drawled, grinning at him before flipping Jean around and bending him over the small, nearby reading table. Jean moaned as Harry pulled his trousers and underwear down his thighs, shivering in anticipation. “I forgive you. I’ll fuck you anyway.”

Jean rested his forehead on his folded forearms and moaned again, heating at the sensation of Harry spreading his cheeks with his huge hands before spitting on his hole, happy in the knowledge that he had worked Harry up just enough to be railed as hard and as fast as he liked.  

“Feel free to sneeze again, if you need to.” He could hear the smirk in Harry’s voice, the popping cap of his portable lube bottle, and then the sensation of his coated fingers probing inside of him, stretching him open.

“Fuck you,” Jean gasped out, reaching between his legs as Harry lined up their hips, getting ready to enjoy the ride.

[roeroe-world]

no way in, no way out. (belly edition)

starring: queen pokoo as kai, nas as sincere

set in 1998.

warning(s): mention of marijuana and alcohol, detailed smut, adult situations, harsh language

Another late night. Another late night Kai would spend alone in the spacious home. In the arms of the young woman, an infant. Warm tears trailing along her light brown baby face, loud wails passing her tiny lips.

Her facial features resemble both her mother and father, crafted beautifully in the hands of God.

“Shh, it’s okay.” Kai tells the young child, rocking her gently. “Ugh, what’s the matter?” She’d fed the child, bathe her, changed her diaper, and the infant still isn’t satisfied. The young mother is growing increasingly frustrated.

“You hungry, baby? Is that what it is, yeah?” Attempting to get her to stop crying, Kai puts the bottle to her lips for her to drink. Instead, the infant turns her head away and continues to scream aloud.

The young woman’s head tosses backward in pure aggravation, on the verge of crying herself.

“Infinite, please.”

Seven months ago, Kai and Sincere’s lives had changed. They welcomed a child into this world. Adjustments were made due to the unplanned pregnancy.

But Sincere isn’t home as much as she needs him to be now that they were parents. He’s around but not enough. Especially for nights like these when Infinite is extremely fussy.

Kai caresses the head of the infant, running her natural nail beds through her small curls. She rocked the child into her arms, gently shushing her before repeatedly murmuring, “It’s okay, it’s okay,” For a slight second, her brown orbs glanced at the clock placed by the television of their living room.

12:42 AM.

With an eye roll, Kai looks away.

Unfortunately, there were many nights like this.

The sound of keys meets her eardrums. That familiar raspy voice semi-shouts, “Yo?” Which alerts the young woman. “Why my baby girl cryin’?”

Once he’s finally in her peripheral, their eyes connect as he turns the corner and enters their living room. The faint smell of marijuana and liquor enters her nostrils, watching the male toss his baggy leather jacket on the couch as well as his keys.

She’s entirely fed up.

Leaning in for a kiss, Kai turns her head as he takes their child out of her hold. His eyebrows shoot upward in an instant but focuses his attention on his daughter whom stopped fussing surprisingly. Infinite grew calm.

The young woman scoffs at the scene, hands falling to her hips, “Wow…”

The infant was giving her a hard time all day but all it took was her father to swoop in after being gone all day to take her from her arms.

“Aye, what you doing all that cryin’ for? Huh? Why you stressin’ mommy out?” He began to rock her, planting a kiss amongst her forehead.

“Now that you’re here, please get her to sleep. I’m going to bed.”

His brown orbs traveling up and down amongst the woman, reading her body language. “I got you.”

“Yeah…” She began with a light chuckle of irritation, heading for their bedroom. “okay.”

Shutting the door behind herself, Kai wastes no time to take a seat. Inhaling and exhaling deeply. Her gaze averts upward from her thick thighs to the mirror positioned beside their king sized bed, scanning her facial features before analyzing Infinite’s vomit stain amongst her shirt.

Motherhood hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park but nobody ever said it would be. In fact, some of her homegirls whom also has children warned her how much things were going to become different.

She couldn’t do the things she used to. Unlike Sincere.

Sincere is Sincere. He leaves as he pleases to go do god knows what with Tommy and his crew. Returns home when he feels like it, drunk or high— most of the time both like tonight. Though, she’s thankful that he actually comes home and safely.

“She’s sound asleep.” The male enters their bedroom, wasting no time to place his gun that was rested on his waistband amongst their dresser.

Sincere is a street dude, always has been before they’d even met. Kai accepted him for who he was but now that they have a child, multiple changes were to begin.

When he’s met with silence, he turns to face his lady of two years whom held an unreadable expression upon her facial features. “You good?”

“No. No, I’m not good, Sincere.” Her tone of voice remaining calm yet she’s highly upset and pissed off. “Some shit is becoming tiring and played out.”

Sighing heavily, the male’s head slightly falls to the side in exhaustion. “What you talkin’ bout, Kai?” Aware that she’s about to be on some bullshit. Despite him having a long day, he always made it his mission to return home every night and listen to whatever his woman had to say.

Even if it seems as if she’s bugging out or just talking to talk half the time.

“You running with Tommy ‘nem. Coming home all crazy hours of the night after doing god knows what which I’m sure isn’t as important as our daughter.”

No doubt, Tommy is a bad influence. Kai is very aware of that but Sincere is a grown man. It’s his choice to run with the people he chooses to.

“I need you here more. I can’t take care of Infinite by myself.” She continues.

“Kai, I’m doing the best I can. What I’m doing is putting food on the table and keeping a roof over our heads. I can’t take care of you and Infinite with no bread. You know that.”

“I’m not trying to hear it no more, aight?” He kisses his teeth in response before the young woman speaks yet again. “We got enough money saved up to do whatever. But this shit is not the answer.”

“Yo, shorty. I’m deep in this shit. I’m good at it. It’s putting money in my pocket—”

“Fuck the money.” Kai stands to her feet, sauntering towards the male. “None of this matters if you’re taken away from us.” Fear enters her tone.

Truthfully, she worried every time Sincere stepped foot out of the door. Concerned about his well being, concerned that one day he wouldn’t make it back in one piece as he promised.

Sincere’s face instantly softens.

“I understand Tommy is your boy but he doesn’t have what you have, a family. You got a child to live for. You can’t afford to be taken from us. Don’t you understand that?”

“You always think we gon’ get knocked or somethin’. We careful with our shit. Pigs can’t catch us even if they think they can.”

Scoffing, she crosses her arms, “That’s always what people believe before they get caught. Y’all ain’t fucking untouchable, Sincere. If Tommy goes down— trust, you’re going down with him.” Her voice raising an octave. “You wanna know what’s worse than getting locked up? Being killed.” Both of their brown orbs piercing into one another’s. “What you gonna do then?”

Silence clouds the couple for a moment. His pools of brown breaking their eye contact to analyze their family portrait that sat upon the nightstand. “Fuck…” He murmurs to himself. She’s right and he couldn’t argue with the truth.

“You know, I been thinking ‘bout doing somethin’ different— changing my life around. Actually doing something with my life but then… I think about where I come from. The shit I did. Who I am. I realized some shit ain’t realistic. Maybe I’m built for this shit. Maybe I’m cut out to just be a street nigga.”

“No. Don’t think of yourself that way. You did what you had to do, baby. But now, you can get out. We have more than enough money saved up. We could go legit. We have a way out.” The woman connects their hands, gaze upward toward her lover.

His forehead pressing against hers, “You think so?” Raspiness seeping from his Northern Dialect. Tone holding uncertainty.

“I know so.” She reassures him. “You ain’t gotta depend on Tommy to provide for us no more. Sincere, you are so smart. You can be any-fucking-thing you want to be if you just apply yourself. I know that you can do it ‘cause I believe in you even when you don’t believe in yourself.”

Sincere isn’t too sure about giving up his lifestyle especially when he’d practically been doing it his whole life. He loved the fast money. He loved the hustle. He loves the game.

He’s good at what he does. It’s putting food on the table, clothes on their backs including designer, a roof over their heads and so forth. They were able to afford the luxuries of these things because of his ‘profession’.

“I feel what you sayin’, shorty. I really do. But what I do is the only thing I’m really thriving in right now. What I’m gon’ do? Start over? It’s a little too late for that. We already got a seed to look after that gotta be provided for.”

Lifting her head, she takes his chin within her reach, their pools of brown connecting. “It is never too late to start over.”

“I need you. Infinite needs you. Fuck the material shit, forget the money— all that aside, she needs her father.” Kai’s hand returns to her side, not believing what she’s bound to say next. “It’s either us… or the game. You can’t have both.” Her gaze trailing behind his being, a framed picture of the couple which hung above their television in her peripheral.

A wide, bright smile sat upon her gorgeous canvas while staring into the lens of the camera. Meanwhile, Sincere’s face happened to be buried deep into the crook of her neck. His arms hugging the woman from behind given that she was seated amongst his lap.

Both of his hands upon her protruding belly, hers on top of his. She was eight months pregnant with Infinite and bound to pop any second.

Briefly, Kai thought back to that time. Remembering how excited they were for a child together, although she wasn’t planned.

“I got family down south. Me and Infinite can stay with them—”

“Aight, aight.” Inhaling and exhaling deeply, Sincere pulls his woman to his chest. “I’m not losing y’all.” Kai manages to fight her tears, shutting her eyes as she listens to his heartbeat. She grows comfortable in his arms, melting at his touch.

Sincere knows the risk of what he does. Although, he loves the game— he’s well aware that the game doesn’t love him back. He came to his senses. Eventually, it was time to change his lifestyle for the sake of his family.

Though, she’d given him a choice. It really wasn’t much of a choice because he would choose his family over anything every time. He refuses to lose them to something he doesn’t envision himself doing at fifty years old.

“I love you.” He leaves a trail of kisses starting at her forehead to her lips. “You love me?” Brown orbs piercing into hers.

“Yes, I love you so much.” She grins.

“Im’ma do whatever to make sure you and Infinite happy. Believe that, aight?”

Without another word, the woman sends him a nod. Gazing up at him lovingly as he takes the messy bun out of her head, her long thick locs falling to her sides before he wastes no time to massage her scalp.

“Mm.” She moans softly. “I needed that so much.”

“Yeah, I know.” He chuckles lightly, noticing the stain on her shirt. “What’s that?”

With a slight laugh, Kai replies, “Infinite spit up on me earlier. I didn’t exactly have much time to change. Your child was whooping my ass today.” Earning a head shake, Sincere helps her pull off the dirty shirt.

“I can tell when I came in. But daddy came and saved the day, right?” A smirk upon his lips.

“I guess so.” She fights her smile with a playful eye roll, top row of pearly whites digging into her bottom lip as Sincere began to plant sensual kisses amongst her chest.

Smoothly, he unsnaps her bra and tosses it across the room. It wouldn’t be long before he lifts the woman into his arms. A tight grip underneath her thick thighs while carrying her to the bed with ease.

Laying her upon her back, the young man climbs between her legs. His pools of brown flowing deeply into hers passionately, lovingly. “I love you.” He tells her truthfully and he means it.

“I love you more.” A heartwarming smile amongst her beautifully natural canvas. She loves him with every fiber of her being. She couldn’t fathom the thought of losing him to the streets so if it would take her leaving with their child for him to get his act straight, then so be it.

Soft hands caressing his face while staring upward at him, watching his every move from the moment he stripped her out of her panties and sweats.

There she lays, completely bare and unafraid. Ready for him to have her however he desires.

Sincere wastes no time to dive into her ocean, tongue driving into the places that left Kai’s mouth agape. Her head falls backward against the pillow, massaging his smooth waves.

He sucked, licked, kissed her wetness. Euphoria leaking into her veins as the stress instantaneously seeps out of her body. “Fuck…”

Sweet nectar drips into his mouth, humming low groans while his tongue practically made love to her paradise. Sincere loves the taste Kai possesses. Her reaction happens to be his favorite as well.

The young woman’s hips softly grinds against his canvas. A plethora of soft moans passing her soft, plump lips. Free dainty hand gripping her large breasts.

His gaze averts upward yet again after shutting his eyelids briefly, mesmerized by her natural beauty. “You so fuckin’ beautiful.” Leaning into Kai’s face, their lips connect into a passionate and hungry union. She’s met with the opportunity of tasting herself.

He strips out of every single article of clothing with the help of Kai. In an instant, Sincere wastes no time to lift his woman’s knees upon her shoulders and insert his hardened member inside of her warm walls.

They both sigh pleasurably at the feel of one another. His hips begin to jolt against hers, both hands gripping the back of both of her brown thighs. “Shit,” The male curses aloud as her tightness traps him, squeezing around his phallus ever so tightly.

Kai’s wetness curating a soundtrack within each deep thrust. Sincere grew lost into her body, literally.

His lips fall slightly agape, low bedroom eyes peering downward towards the moaning woman underneath his being. Kai’s eyelids closed in pure bliss, sensually dragging her natural nail beds down the smooth caramel skin of Sincere’s bare chest. Her hands pauses at his hips, garnering a loose yet tight grip while pumping hers back into his.

Brain slipping into a dazed state of lust and desperation, yearning for him to not stop. Yearning for him to give her more and more and more.

“Ah, fuck, fuck,” High-pitched tone of voice whimpers into the steamy atmosphere.

The pace of his hips began to increase much to her pleasure, consistently deepening into every inch of her hot soaking cavern. The more he pounds into her wanting crevice, the more he taps her spot. “Shit, Sincere!” She sinks onto cloud nine, beginning to experience orgasms at an instant yet exhausting rate. Her juices squirting out of her similar to a water fountain.

Their sheets were an absolute mess. The headboard banging against the wall violently. Neither of the two cared, too lost into one another.

“Oh—” The young woman falls silent, mouth hanging open due to the fact she couldn’t make anymore sudden sounds for a moment. The pleasure began to grow unbearable, so overwhelming. “Hm, yes..” Eyelashes batting upward at the sexual deviant on top of her sweaty body, humming aloud.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, mama.” His raspiness enters her eardrums, tongue dragging across his lips. His gaze watching her large breasts bounce alongside each stroke.

A fucked out expression amongst her canvas. Eyebrows furrowing together, moans pouring from her agape plump lips. “S-so good… I’m gonna cum, fuck,” Her reaction earns a loud groan.

“Fuck, Kai.”

The passion between the couple began to grow stronger, intensifying each second. Her soaking cavern left the couple more than aroused, given that they enjoyed the sounds. In fact, Sincere loves it.

In the heat of the moment, breathing heavily, he says, “Let’s have another baby, shorty.”

His low lust-filled pools of brown peering down into hers, watching her sexily licks her lips. By this time, Sincere pinned her hands above her head, staring deep into her beautiful doe brown eyes.

The moment Sincere set his eyes upon Kai for the very first time, he knew he had to make her his. That’s exactly what he did and amongst their short time together, he wanted to marry her and have a family after just months of the two being together.

Also, that’s what he did. To be honest, he had her on lock when they first met.

Years later, here they were, married and possessed a little family. Despite, Infinite only being seven months, he desired to grow their family.

His orgasm quickly approaching, waiting for the okay from his wife underneath his frame. He so desperately desired to put another one of his seeds inside of her, longing for another beautiful creation and version of them.

“Okay, baby…” She whispers, a weak yet sincere grin falling upon her lips.

The second the male receives her consent, he sends her a smirk before grabbing a hold of her right leg and tightening it around his waist. His thrusts becoming deeper, desperate yet passionate than before.

Their tongue’s swirling in one another’s mouths, sucking in one another’s breath. Heat surrounding their steamy bodies as Sincere made love to his woman, the lady of his life.

Kai began to fall deeper in love with her lover as if she wasn’t already in love before. She fell vulnerable in his arms. His dick would always tap that emotion that left tears cascading along her mahogany cheeks. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” She’s completely drunk off of his dick, loving the feeling of how much his thick girth stretched her out.

His length driving deeper slowly drives her up the wall, eventually sending her into overdrive. Her hands caresses his chest, moaning loudly as her mind goes blank— completely focused on how good she’s being fucked at the moment.

The sex was mind blowing, so mind blowing that she starts to cry out for the most high while in the midst of crying out Sincere’s name.

Their bodies start to shake in unison and suddenly their lips disconnect, Kai again shouts, “Sincere!” into the humid atmosphere, heart racing.

Both of their eyebrows furrowing together at the same time, his eyelids shutting tightly, “Ah, fuck…” Within seconds, he releases his seed inside of the woman. “Shit.” Grip amongst her neck tightening, making sure every single drop isn’t wasted.

The couple reached their climax, breathing heavily. Kai observes him closely, tongue dragging across her lips, before softly inquiring, “You really wanna have another baby… or?” She began, hands caressing the smooth caramel skin of his back. “were you just in the moment?” She wanted to make sure he was serious about his sudden decision.

“Yeah.” He removes himself from on top of the woman, lying beside her and placing an arm around her neck. “I think it’s ‘bout time we had another little one. Y’know?”

“Yeah.” The woman gaze averts upward in his direction lovingly, intertwining their fingers. After what they’d just did, she couldn’t speak much nor protest.

“You were right and I been doing a lot of thinking for a hot minute. I’m leaving the game, for good. It’s just gon’ be me, you, the kids from here on out. I got y’all to live for and to think about. Fuck all that other noise.”

Smiling gently, “I’m glad you came to your senses.” Time after time, Kai would try to talk sense into him. It’s a pleasure to see that the talks were actually paying off.

He plants a kiss upon her forehead before sighing in exhaustion yet satisfaction, head resting on the headboard, “Damn, you wore a nigga out.”

In response, Kai giggles similar to a schoolgirl before climbing onto his lap.

[droughtofapathy]

I'm too lazy to get my phone out and scroll through emojis, which I know you'll appreciate. "what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?" "share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on" "what's the fastest way to become your mutual?"

And because I know this is going to cause internal bleeding: "give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing"

Thank ya, love.

Oh thank god, I don't have to go scrolling back to find the post. Big fan of no-emoji asks.

"what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?" Essays. I'm lucky enough to have many beloved mutuals who will show up on the doorstep of my works with lengthy analysis, discussion, and favorite lines all ready to go. I'm a writer who wants to discuss the work in intimate detail, so these comments are like catnip to me.

"share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on" Stop giving a fuck. Do what you want and what you like and to hell with what others are doing or thinking. Having confidence in yourself is the easiest way to deal with problems. I have always been an extremely confident person, but as a kid I still had a lot of stress and anxiety, and though even at such a tender age, I was still doing what I wanted, I was also doing it with a lot more neurotic energy. I had panic attacks semi-frequently, but (and this is really bad advice from a professional mental health perspective because I'm realizing how trivializing it sounds) I got rid of all the stress and anxiety and neuroses by just...not having them. It sounds absurd, but I'm living the high life with none of the mental health issues so many of my friends have because I just decided to stop being anxious and stressed all the time, and more importantly, I'm so fucking sure of myself. This is not something most people are able to do. Proper treatment is important: I just... didn't need it. I looked at all those reasons I was stressed and upset and just said "who cares? So what? What's the worst that could happen and what am I actually going to do about it if it does? Nothing matters. I'm fantastic. So why am I wasting my time and energy being so worked up about everything?" And that's kind of just how I live my life. Nothing matters, things happen, life goes on. I know I'm a fucking delight. (And yeah, it's probably really aggravating to hear someone just say stop having anxiety, because it's not that simple. But it was for me.

So that's my advice: be confident. Be apathetic. I'm sure of what I think and what I do. Have trust in yourself. Just do whatever it is that you need or want to do.

"what's the fastest way to become your mutual?" Barrel into my DMs with lengthy rants/discussions at the ready. Talk to me about my writing or the theatre. I'm actually not great at fast-tracking mutuals. I know all of my current beloved mutuals can attest to the fact that it did take time for me to follow back. Just stick with me. I'll get there eventually if I like what's on your blog and I connect with you personally.

"give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing" Me talking to myself: Jesus fucking Christ, why won't you take some goddamn time to edit your work? Would it kill you to take a breather in between finishing the last sentence and putting it up on the archive with barely a cursory reread for typos (especially given how they keep slipping by anyway)? Why must you be so stubborn? It's not admitting incompetence by doing a second draft. Try it out sometime and see what happens. You might even like it.

(Unfortunately, I am cursed with a staggering amount of confidence--bordering on arrogance--and my first drafts are pretty damn fantastic. I never had to try very hard to get top marks for school essays, so I was stuck in this no-edit lifestyle from an early age and just never bothered to get out. It's working for me.)

[answrs]

Wrote this and 2 days later had to euthanize my favorite fish I’ve had since the beginning of lockdown for the beginnings of a terminal & painful condition. which is certainly a form of irony i do not appreciate or wish to tempt from the universe so I’m not gonna edit it any more than i already had done before that.

(this is Mystery Skulls, not pokemon, for the new followers, btw)

I think I'm having feelings about holding a companion past their time, fighting tooth and claw against the universe instead of letting them rest, how human it is to want every moment possible with a loved one, and how it's taking a step back and assessing what's truly best for them may be letting them go.

possibly exploring ghosts being warped funhouse reflections of a person?

Lewis very accidentally kills Arthur in a confrontation where he reveals himself. (possibly not-realizing-how-violently-he's-shaking-the-guy-he's-holding-while-screaming-at-him-for-answers accidentally aggravating past head trauma or something similar?) in the moment Artie's very tired and rather unhealthy mind is kinda "oh we found Lewis yay I completed my purpose I can rest now" and is peacefully-if-woozily dozing off as he passes into the After, when Vivi uses some heretofore unknown and extremely not very understood spirit magic to grab his departing soul and strangle it back onto the living plane.

((fuck it mystery is… idk. licking his wounded pride off in the desert somewhere for a year post-Shiromiri or whatever. maybe I'll edit him in later. or not.))

((they did not, in fact, edit him in later.))

Lewis skedaddles immediately seeing what horrible thing he's done, terror at himself, how could he have done that he just wanted to know W H Y and oh gods he's not safe to be around and he has to get a w a y

Arthur as a ghost is very much formed by those last calmer moments combined with a life of compartmentalizing and shoving issues to the back of his mind to avoid them. so he's actually a very chill, laid-back ghost who just wants to sleep, he's so tired, but-

similar to the one fic I did where viv necromances her way to keeping artie stable and unknowingly causing him to suffer but this time Vivi refuses to give Arthur's anchor to him, since because his spirit has no purpose remaining here he'd pass on and she Will Not Lose Her Friend She Will Not Tolerate Being Alone. Arthur repeatedly tells her that Lewis would happily stay with her, keep her company, but Shut Up! she didn't know this person before and she certainly wants absolutely nothing to do with him now!

not that she really enjoys being around this Arthur that's nothing like he Should be. why did he have to come back wrong!? she tries to hide it but he just gives her a sad, knowing look and goes back to trying to doze where he's floating at her shoulder.

it's a near daily occurrence, far past the end of her rope, that in frustration she yells back at his Wrong words or Wrong actions and gives an order- Shut up and take this seriously! Stop trying to sleep! -and watches the blue crackle of her power snap his mouth shut, straighten him at attention. she begs and pleads for forgiveness, she didn't mean it, he doesn't have to, it was a mistake - to be met with a drooped smile, a nod brushing away the concern. often Arthur mustering up the energy to try and cheer her up, suggest they go do something fun so she can de-stress.

his permanently distracted mind always wanders back to Lewis and it never really settles in (his spirit not holding a grudge for his death and because of that only really understanding Vivi's absolute hatred in an abstract sense), he suggests they find him again, the cycle restarts anew.

meanwhile Lewis, devastated and now constantly fighting his unfinished business to seeing his friends safe to stay away only sees Arthur's tethered spirit a few months later when his will breaks and he allows himself to watch from a distance.

but it's not a ghost is a ghost is a ghost and that's that. he sees nothing so sinister as shackles or chains. but a ghost that forms has always done so for a purpose, or regrets, or Anything that gives them a reason to not pass on, a tether they hold to the mortal plane. but the shade bobbing along at heel has nothing of its own. a blue string keeps him like a balloon, wrapped a thousand times around its holder's hands for fear of it slipping away in the wind.

concern overrides common sense, as is wont to do. he approaches and Vivi nearly manages to smite him on sight, only held back because she doesn't actually know how to properly do so. but after bats are (begrudgingly) put away and skulls are re-aquired from across the parking lot, it stings to see Arthur some of the most aware he's ever been as he greets the ghost.

she sees his murderer, he sees only an old friend. 

Vivi is (extremely understandably) both infuriated and devastated in turns. she wants less than nothing to do with this Monster, but the man she's spent so long night and day begging to come back to her is responding positively to its presence. she is truly in her worst lose-lose situation

Lewis keeps his distance as best he can in the time after, he sees the fine threads of connection weaving when he talks with the shadow, bringing it ever slowly back to them. but is it right, or merely cruel to do so? to convince a soul that should be at peace to turn itself back, bind it to existence just because they aren't ready to let go of their friend? is Arthur doing this for himself, or for them, or is he even aware enough of it to be doing it on purpose? he still says he's tired, that he just wants to sleep. they're together again, he's happy, seeming oblivious the two are steadfastly avoiding all but the most required interaction with the other. are they coercing him into ghostlihood by encouraging these ties he likely doesn't even notice are forming? tying him to a reality that doesn't exist?

((I don't know. I don't know if he stays and regains himself. I don't know if they let him go. I don't know what happens after except in all cases they must mourn what was lost, what will never be the same again.))

[thunderberryart]

Star's Rune Factory 3 Special 1st Playthrough, Part 1: First Impressions!

Welp, the day has finally come for fans of the Rune Factory series. Preorder copies of Rune Factory 3 Special are already arriving in people's mailboxes and it's not even the official release date yet. I was fortunate enough to be among those who got their copy a few days early and needless to say, I am extremely excited to finally play what is widely considered the best game in the series.

My copy was the Golden Memories Edition from XSEED's store that includes the Golden Wooly keychain. The keychain itself is extremely soft and adorable, and the other goodies included in the Golden Memories box are lovely as well. My favorite is the acrylic standee that features Micah, Frey, Lest, Alice, and Ares--while it's nothing particularly special as far as merch goes, the fact it features the protagonists of the Rune Factory games that have been released since the series was revived is, to me, pretty meaningful. Maybe one day we'll get a similar standee but with the protagonists of RF1/Frontier, RF2, and Tides of Destiny.

But we're not here to highlight what's included in the LE. We're here to talk about my first playthrough of RF3S, which at this point is only just getting started.

I've only played a few days in game so far and I have to say, while I don't dislike it, compared to RF4S and RF5, I am feeling VERY overwhelmed in the early game. A large part is muscle memory; I went into RF3S expecting it to play similarly to RF4S and while that is true in a lot of ways, there are enough differences in the UI that I occasionally find myself tripping up and hitting the wrong button when trying to equip a tool or weapon. There is also the matter of the controls themselves; Micah, at least to me, doesn't move as precisely as Frey/Lest or Alice/Ares, and so I find myself missing a lot when trying to water crops or till the fields. But from what I remember of my one playthrough of RF5, there was a somewhat similar problem with Alice/Ares during the farming segments, and those issues were ultimately fixed once I got around to upgrading the tools, so I imagine something similar might happen down the road with Micah.

I think another factor in what's making me feel overwhelmed is the cast. It's not that the cast is larger than Selphia's--from what I can tell, the population of Sharance about the same as before you rescue all of the Guardians during Act 1--but the personalities are definitely a lot louder and more prone to relying on one or two major character quirks. Collette is a glutton, Raven is a tsundere, Sofia and Sherman speak in opposites, etc. This is a double edged sword because if the quirk is something I can tolerate, than yeah, I'm all right with it. But if the quirk is something I personally find obnoxious, then I'm most likely not gonna be a fan of the character. Of the characters I've met so far, Shara, Sakuya, Carmen, Gaius, Blaise, Marjorie, Hazel, Evelyn, and Shino all have personalities that I genuinely like, but Marian, Karina, Pia, Sofia, Raven, and Sherman? All already getting on my nerves. (Especially Karina. She reminds me way too much of Bado and Elsje, and I didn't like those two either.)

But hey, it's really early in the game, and if RF4 taught me anything, it's never to judge a book by its cover. I mean believe it or not, I used to dislike Xiao Pai because I found her clumsy shtick annoying, but now she's probably my favorite of the bachelorettes. I wouldn't be surprised if the same thing ends up happening here with some of the characters who I currently find aggravating.

Beyond that, I mean... jeez, this game is pretty. RF3S clearly had a bigger budget compared to RF4S between the brand new character/monster models and the new intro. I'm still disappointed there's no female player option and/or datable bachelors, but prettied up or not, RF3S, like RF4S, is a port. I guess if there's anything I would have changed up, it's the portraits. Rune Factory has long suffered from a case of giving the majority of its characters massive baby faces even when they're supposed to be adults and I find it even more glaring here than in RF4S. Like c'mon guys, it's possible to give a character softer, youthful features without making them look like a literal child.

That's all for now! I'll come back with a new post once I've talked to the villagers more and dealt with the tanuki monster everyone keeps blabbering about...

[alabasterandpitch]

EDIT: Jesus this really got away from me, might try to rewrite/trim this down I've been thinking about this a lot lately, and I think it's definitely a key ingredient in the fucked up soup of emotions this game evoked in me. Obviously fucked up child-murder aside, I found I really related to Andrew in a lot of ways, to an extent that kind of shocked me a bit as I was playing the game. Which I think (hope?) was the point really.

I've read an unhealthy number of fan essays about this game lately, and I'm not going to try and write something up to that par of literary analysis right here. This is more to help me process shit.

One point I've seen noted in a few essays is the way the game uses juxtaposition to contrast over-the-top drama and extreme taboos like cannibalism and incest, against far more realistic and authentically crafted elements, like the codependence of the siblings' relationship, or the consequences of childhood trauma and emotional neglect.

I'm literally just starting down a giant rabbit-hole of life questioning and self examination vis-a-vis childhood trauma now, so when I first played through the game, I found myself going through all the familiar motions of minimizing and invalidating some of my own trauma: 'Oh shut up you never had it that bad' 'It really wasnt THAT big a deal' 'Your situation is totally different. Why would you feel that? Don't be dumb.'

Then this line hit me like a fuckin punch to the gut. (Recap: "Andrew was such an easy kid")

I heard this near-verbatim from my own mother when she finally apologized for years of emotional neglect growing up.

It never even entered my mind growing up, or in all the years since, to contemplate whether that could be considered traumatic

I was always 'the easy kid' growing up. I was always the quiet one, the bookish, sensitive kid who never asked for anything or made any fuss or anything really as far as my parents tell me. Pretty much all the way through high-school I was the easy-to-raise kid who did well in school with minimal supervision. I loved reading and science and generally learning about the world, and I was never all that concerned with conventional social norms.

All well and good so far, and my oddities such as they are didn't really cause me a whole lot of active issues in and of themselves. Enter the House of ADHD. Once my brother started to struggle a few years into school and was diagnosed ADHD (and my father subsequently realized he also had ADHD) things took a bit of a turn for the chaotic. Generally this usually involved a coin toss of what screaming-match there would be over dinner and homework that evening, but it was honestly it was anyone's guess what flavour of fucked I would come home to in a house full of ADHD dysregulation. It's worth noting my brother and father are 100% both the Impulsive-Hyperactive type, and it was always these impulsive, structure-resistant qualities that I found so aggravating and stress-inducing.

I've always been an emotionally sensitive person (possibly an ASD thing??) so I basically just soak up the emotional vibes of the household like a sponge, and years of coming home from shitty high school life every day to a whole other round of chaos-fuelled rage and screaming and undeserved lashing-out wreaked absolute havoc on my mental health in ways I'm still trying to unpack.

Even when I was a toddler, my parents would be yelling at my brother for something and I'D be the one to start crying for no reason. Honestly thinking back I think I felt a LOT more anxiety focused on my parents and general household conflict than my peers seemed to. It always amazed me how other people could just...not feel abject terror at the thought of your parents angry and yelling at you. It's only now occurring to me as I explore the possibility of ASD that these extreme emotional responses probably weren't normal to the extent that I felt.

Anyway, around high school I first started struggling (or consciously struggling anyway) with mental health, mostly just garden variety depression and anxiety, or so I thought at the time. It's a bit silly in retrospect, but it took another 10 or 15 years before I would start to seriously consider whether I was neurodivergent in some way as well. Despite the strong genetic links I never seriously considered the possibility that I might have ADHD as well, mostly on the basis of how I tended to see myself as the polar opposite of my disorganized, often-dysregulated father and brother.

Even as we've gotten older, my brother has pointed out numerous qualities that fit the bill for ADHD, but I'd never really given it any serious consideration until I started looking more closely at the Inattentive subtype, which is me to a tee. The fact that my family has dubbed me 'the absent minded professor' since about age 6 should probably have been more of a tip-off there. Speaking of the stereotypical 'little professor', I've also begun to seriously question the possibility of ASD as well, and the various AuDHD testimonies I've been reading have been making a ridiculous amount of sense to me vis a vis my own life experiences, and my relationship with my family's ADHD.

Like I mentioned, the impulsive, structure-resistent aspects of my family's Impulsive ADHD was always part of what aggravated me the most; my brain craved routine and structure and knowing what was going to happen. I operate on plans and schedules and it was tremendously aggravating and anxiety-inducing for me constantly having to revise and adjust my own mental plans to accommodate for whatever meltdown was occurring in the house that day. That structured, routine-oriented part of my brain is definitely part of what got me looking into ASD

Between the two of them, my father and brother's personalities are like a gaseous state of matter; they expand to consume any free space, attention and emotional bandwidth available in the room. After enough times being talked over, screamed down or lashed out at for trying to help and offer some insight, I eventually caught on that trying to mediate these conflicts and come to some compromise or happy meeting was a pointless endeavour. At some point I think I just kind of stopped trying to fight for any attention at all and just kept my head down and mouth shut during dinner. Most of the time I'd just hide away in my room with internet friends or out around the neighborhood if I was particularly fed up with it. Thinking back, it seems like most of life in our household back then revolved around managing my brother's ADHD as he made it through high school.

My mother took on the lion's share of the work here, being perhaps the only neurotypical one in the house. My father, despite being a teacher and quite intelligent, is also very set in his ways and not particularly interested in making any changes to manage his ADHD, having only discovered it late in life. Pair this with his tendency to butt heads with my brother, and that was a volatile mixture at the best of times, him trying to corral my brother into doing math homework? Instant disaster. So obviously, my mother stepped in there.

At this point I was pretty much left to my own devices 99% of the time. Of course I was still absolutely miserable and struggling with depression and anxiety at the time, but I didn't even know how to go about talking about that, much less have the confidence and self-assurance to bring it up to my parents. Keeping in mind also this is probably 15 years ago now in an isolated part of rural Canada. Awareness and discussion of mental health issues was far less prevalent then than it is today, and that absolutely affected my ability to broach these difficult topics as an angsty teenager who was already beginning to feel neglected.

Compared to the seemingly cataclysmic screaming-matches erupting every other night, none of my problems seemed important enough to bother with. Especially given that my family was already so preoccupied dealing with my brother's mental health issues. After a while of this, it sank in pretty quick and I internalized the idea that nobody was going to help me with those feelings and that as far as dealing with my emotional shit, I was basically on my own.

This has already gotten WAY longer than I ever intended it to be so I'm gonna cut it here. Gods help whatever poor soul chooses to read this mess. I started out meaning to make some relevant commentary on TCOAL from my own experiences, but I think accidentally did the reverse

I like to imagine Ms Graves "Andrew was such an easy kid" is like, specifically referring to little boy Andrew who was nonverbal, made absolutely zero noise, communicated nothing, and constantly forgot to eat, and instead just autistically stared at the wall, or tv, for hours at a time without moving

And Ms Graves was so uneducated and dumb at the time that she thought that's how kids were

[a-crepusculo]

Photo of Us (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x Dr. Marchia Bisognin (F!MC) Premise: It’s Marchia versus Technology, and she’s not winning. Rating / Category: General / Fluff Warning(s): None Word Count: 712 words

Prompts: 42. “How have you survived this long by yourself?” and 78. “I can’t get enough of you.” from 150 random writing prompts

A/N: As always, back from the 💀 y’all lol. I miss my babies and their shenanigans, so I hope this little shitpost fic and edit could make your day a little bit brighter! Special thanks to the anon that sent in prompt 42 and prompt 78 🥰

Loud, insistent thumping noise coming from his home office stopped Ethan in his tracks. He was certain that he had locked the doors to prevent Jenner—currently spending the night at their humble abode—from wreaking havoc and destroying every single piece of paper in his workroom.

Yet, somehow, the grand mahogany entryway had a slight gap.

Carefully stepping closer to the room, his long arm reached out to push the heavy doorway—mostly expecting the view of his overly-energetic dog chewing through his important documents. To Ethan’s surprise, however, there was no Jenner in sight.

Instead, he found a small figure standing beside his work table, clearly unaware that someone else has entered the small space. Wrapped in her white silk pajamas, the young blonde was violently smacking his Epson printer like there was no tomorrow.

“Why,” she huffed, followed by another thwack sound that bounced on the walls. “Won’t you work?!”

“Most likely because you keep slapping at it, my love.”

Her petite shoulders jumped at the stern, yet loving tone of his voice. Turning around to look at him, Marchia donned her sweetest smile on to her extremely blushed face—half embarrassed and half befuddled as to why she did not ask his help in the first place. In hindsight, it really does seem like the young blonde was trying to smash and ruin his expensive valuables.

“Technology hates me,” she sighed, running an aggravated hand through her messy hair. “I’ve been trying for half an hour, but the thing won’t let me print!”

“Here,” Ethan smiled, eyes shifting to the little black machine alongside his laptop. “Let me help you.”

Rough, familiar hands tinkered on portable computer; trying to analyze the problem that had arisen. His sharp brunette brows pulled together, signature stoic expression placed atop his countenance—utterly determined to figure out what went wrong.

And, as expected by the young doctor, he found the missing puzzle piece soon enough.

Rotating his muscular figure to meet her, his cerulean eyes looked down at Marchia. For a fleeting moment, she thought Ethan was simply glaring at her for her absolute stupidity and absurdity—which is well deserved, really. Then, she realized that he was not glaring; he’s fighting a laugh.

“How have you survived this long by yourself?” he quipped, a hearty smile easily broke across face.

“Honestly, no idea,” she shrugged, biting her lower lip as she ruminate over his remarks. “It’s a miracle that I’ve come this far.”

“A miracle indeed,” he agreed, letting out a small chuckle.

Taking her soft hands in his, Ethan pulled her body closer, lowering down his head to pepper her with thousands of kisses. With each and every kiss, all the air rushed out of his lungs—leaving him dazed and breathless, in the best ways possible.

He could never get enough of moments like these, how small it may be, as long as he was together with Marchia.

After another sip of her lips, he continued with, “You want to know why the printer doesn’t work?”

“Enlighten me, please.”

“It’s simply because...” he quickly grabbed the thin line behind her. “This.”

Upon closer inspection, it looks like one of the greatest doctors of her generation had forgot to actually plug the cable to the machinery. If this silly occurrence were to happen to anyone, certainly Marchia would be the right candidate for it.

Smiling sheepishly, she replied, “Could you please plug it in, then?”

“Your wish is my command, sayang.”

Connecting the wire between those two devices, Ethan slowly guided her to print her things, all while avoiding to repeat the same mistakes. As the printer whirred—indicating that she was successful this time around—he realized that did not know what she printed in the first place. 

“Ta-da!” she squealed, presenting him with the glossy photo paper.

“I wanted to put this up on my desk,” she spoke confidently. “So I could show it to everyone that comes into my office.”

“Hrm,” he raised his brows, arms slipping to her waist, roguish smirk spread wide. “A little bit possessive, are we?”

“What can I say?” she returned with her own playful grin. “I can’t get enough of you.”

I’ll be tagging in a separate post!

[thatwildnya]

the saga continues! more teeth problems with drake s/o~

drake s/o with period teeth

in light of me having to get my wisdom teeth removed, i have decided to make these

context: you’re a drake fae whose teeth fall out about every few months to make way for newer, healthier chompers. the drawback? it’s extremely painful and you become aggravated and grumpy.

Octavinelle Scarabia edition

tw: teeth, muzzling

Octavinelle

Azul

you were basically an honorary octavinelle member before so there are no problems when you’re given a spare room to keep an eye on you

he would have put you in his room but you broke his staff in half after stealing it to chew on

he keeps anything precious far away from you after that

one time while you were (trying to) relaxing in the lounge when a wild karen appeared in the booth next to yours and started to be annoying

you nearly ate him alive

thankfully Jade was there to block your chompers with a metal tray

it snapped in half and now no one dares to complain if you’re anywhere in the lounge

lets you chew on a tentacle while he does his own thing the tweels are envious

is glad he has eight of them and that they’ll grow back you have taken chunks out multiple times when you’re in a fit ouchy

Jade

oya you poor thing don’t worry daddy he will take care of you

he’s a busy man but somehow makes time to take care of you

he’s enchanting ice packs not to melt and wiping your face with cold cloths to numb your face

let’s you teeth on his muscles and makes that mistake of calling you a baby sharpening it’s teeth for a hunt (don’t ask)

this ended in one of his terrariums getting smashed

he was purposely provoking you so he’s not really mad at you, it was his fault

cuddles with you in ice cold baths in his merform (crowley is crying you are making the water bill skyrocket)

Floyd

his first thought is to fight you

and that’s exactly what he does

it’s all fun and games until you accidentally swallow a tooth and now you’re choking to death

memories of close calls from when he was younger and surviving in the ocean with his twin come flooding back and now he’s switched from relaxed to overprotective mode

you can’t go anywhere without him that’s what he has decided and you’ll have to deal with it this rule is not going to be changed

even if he’s moody he will go out and get you soft food or anything else you might need

he’s might act like a manchild but when it’s needed he is fully capable of stepping up to responsibilities

and yes he let’s your gnaw on dem beefy muscles he thinks it’s adorable

Bonus

all three get you some of those cleaning shrimps for you to use instead of a toothbrush since it can irritate your gums. they all have pictures of you half asleep with your mouth wide open as the shrimpys do their job. they also have no problem with muzzling you. you have chewed up something of theirs they value so you get the muzzle of shame.

Scarabia

Kalim

oh you sweet summer child do not worry sunshine child will do everything he can to make you as comfortable as possible

he’s buying anything that can help you get through this endeavor with as little discomfort as possible

which definitely makes up for this chatter box of a guy

sometimes you just want peace and quiet but he doesn’t always pick up on that

learns his lesson when you snap at his hand with a threatening growl

he was so sad after that he nearly cried thinking you hated him please explain you don’t he’ll understand

tries to keep the talking to a minimum after that but somethings starts to go on a tangent 

just growl and he’ll immediately shut up

Jamil

really hates that he can’t help out as much as he wants to, kalim is a hazard to himself and needs to be watched

he does take notice you are calmer when he’s nearby so he suggests you stay in his room whenever you feel yourself getting heated

then he comes back to his room covered in pillow stuffing and his bed and blankets ripped to shreds

you are no longer allowed to stay in his room alone without a muzzle.

if you’re okay with it he’ll use his unique magic to keep you from pawing at your face, i suggest you allow him it’ll put his mind at ease

at night you get to use his tummy as a pillow while he brushes your hair and massages your shoulders how sweet~

[veliseraptor]

Okay I'm new to this fandom and I'm a bit confused. Did Xue Yang and Meng Yao know each other? Did Meng Yao free him?👀Do xue yang know he has a parentage that dabbled in demonic cultivation?

congratulations, anon! you have hit the nail on the head of one of my perennial aggravations about cql-canon specific details, which is to say ‘what the hell is the deal supposed to be with meng yao and xue yang in qinghe?’

there is no real indication that they might have known each other except some meaningful side-eyes going on that don’t make a lot of sense in context other than, maybe, pre-flagging the idea that meng yao is ~problematic~ and ~untrustworthy~ I guess? (which, ask me how I feel about the idea that everything jin guangyao does forever is bad and sinister, regardless of timeline, effect, or motivation). but there’s no real, substantive indication (up until the empathy flashback in ep 41, I’ll get there) that they are familiar with each other, or that they actually do any collaborating at that point.

you could definitely headcanon them as knowing each other previously based on the fact that they both grew up in less than ideal circumstances, shall we say, but I don’t think there’s any evidence for it in-text other than aforementioned meaningful side-eyes. in fact, canonically we know where they both grew up locationwise and it wasn’t in the same place. but like, seriously.

(and holy shit this got long, I’ll spare you all with a read more. also: I have broken my usual ‘referring to jin guangyao as jin guangyao always’ rule for the sake of this post given that it is specifically about the era where he is going by meng yao, but it did feel really weird.)

speaking specifically with what we see in text (in episode 10), we see meng yao argue against executing xue yang, but only after wei wuxian has done so first. the next explicit link between them is when meng yao leaves the fight between wen zhuliu and nie mingjue saying that he’s going to go check on xue yang; following that, we’re told that xue yang has escaped and meng yao claims he saw the captain free him.

which is, considering the fact that he’s killing the captain at the time, a highly suspect statement to make.

there’s no reason for meng yao to be working with xue yang at this point! there’s just not! it doesn’t make sense for him even from a purely self-interested standpoint and, again, at this point in canon there’s no actual reason to believe that they have any prior familiarity.

(’but lise what about the flashback-’ yes I’ll get there.)

if you want my personal reading, which I think is compatible with the text as we see it, it goes like this:

1. xue yang quickly notices meng yao as a potentially interesting person. I don’t think it’s about seeing him as an ally or knowing him from anything beforehand - I think it’s about seeing him as interesting and kind of funny.

2. meng yao registers that there’s a distinct possibility of nie mingjue dying and/or the wen sect attacking the nie in force and decides to short-circuit that by just freeing xue yang himself, because he knows nie mingjue won’t do it but if xue yang’s gone then that (at least temporarily) solves their wen problem.

my evidence for this is based around the timing of when meng yao leaves to “check on” xue yang (mid-fight, specifically after wen zhuliu, inarguably a greater threat, takes over from wen chao), the fact that he looks definitely concerned when he does so, and the fact that, given where he is at this point, letting xue yang out otherwise makes no sense.

this does not strike me as the face of a person who is a-plottin some sinister business, and this isn’t a face he’s making at anyone, either; this is pure ‘ah fuck this ain’t good’ expression.

(yes, yes, I know, episode 41 flashback, I told you that we’d get there.)

3. meng yao frees xue yang, probably hoping he can make it as bloodless as possible; xue yang, in xue yang fashion, makes it as bloody as possible; meng yao sees his chance to do something about the guy he has always hated and who has repeatedly undermined him, and who probably also caught him in the middle of an incriminating action that nie mingjue would absolutely not accept as justifiable.

4. xue yang bounces, leaving jin guangyao caught holding the sword and surrounded by several dead bodies.

and then they don’t see each other again until xue yang ends up at jinlintai at some unspecified point down the timeline.

regarding the episode 41 flashback (see? I promised!), the view we get of meng yao talking with an unspecified person heavily implied to be xue yang doesn’t make sense in some very critical ways that also align with the selective editing that nie mingjue’s memories seem to have done on incidents we previously saw from a (presumably) omniscient perspective. many people other than me (see here, here, and here for some examples) have written eloquently about the disparities between the scenes as we see them in earlier episodes compared to what we see in the flashback, and how that suggests at least some unreliability of nie mingjue’s memories despite their presentation, since they are visually coeval with the rest of canon, as equally reliable. 

(what would be different if the empathy flashbacks were in some way visually demarcated, I wonder? it’s a thought. I like that they’re not because unreliability of narrative/narrator is such a theme, but.)

ANYWAY, regarding the section where we see that conversation between the captain and meng yao, now with bonus mysterious feet (implied to be xue yang) - a few things stand out to me.

one: nie mingjue has no way of having seen this - no personal access to what he’s supposedly seeing in his own memory. this suggests the possibility, at least, that this is a fabricated assumption of a memory. (”I believe this happened, and this is how I would reconstruct it happening.”)

two: possibly more significantly: the scene as played here doesn’t fit with canon as we see it in episode 10 itself. the scene with the captain and meng yao, as we see it earlier, includes here several additional lines of dialogue. considering the other discrepancies within the empathy flashback with previously seen canon, episode ten’s version, by virtue of not taking place within a (flashback of a) flashback and within the pov of an extremely biased character, could be read as more reliable.

see also: the flashback with the captain seeing meng yao talking to someone (implied to be xue yang) is placed directly after nie mingjue accuses meng yao of plotting with xue yang - an accusation he doesn’t make in the scene as it originally plays in episode 10. this is another place where there are several lines of dialogue that weren’t present in the earlier version of the scene, inserted apparently seamlessly into the record.

taken together, with the above where it does not make sense to me that meng yao was ~plotting~ with xue yang prior to freeing him as a way of getting the wens off nie mingjue’s back, I’m inclined to think that moment in the episode 41 flashback is a nie mingjue-generated presumption of what must have happened, rather than a factual account of what did.

meng yao’s choices in episode 10 make much more sense - as someone who, if nothing else, is definitely interested in preserving his position as part of the nie sect, but who also values nie mingjue’s life at that point enough to take a sword to the chest for him - if you don’t take that at face value.

regarding the second part of your question about the xue yang/xue chonghai connection - cql seems to indicate that he has some awareness maybe, based on his conversation with wei wuxian in episode 37? at least, he has access to Lore involving the yin iron that others were unaware of

and had one piece in his possession apparently pre-canon.

but honestly that’s a bit of cql canon that I pretty much ignore completely and sometimes forget about, though there are certainly interesting things that can be done with it.

[laurentspup]

Friends... Is that what we are? (Lamen AU) Part 7.5

Masterlist

Author’s note: 

Hey it’s been so long since I updated this! It still takes a lot of me to think of dialogue and edit the messages, so this isn’t new content. It is, however, what really happened in part 7 (when Damen went to Laurent’s house and read him a book, and kissed his forehead). I always thought this was better in paragraphs than soc med format, so here it is. I actually drafted this before part 7 and I finished it now! 

I hope you all enjoy this new chapter and I promise I will be back with a new update soon. I just have to get used to driving (just passed my license a month ago), college (it’s my last year), and work (first year in person). 

Okay that was a lot, now onto this chapter full of sweetness and pining.

Part 7.5

It’s past midnight, but Laurent still has a big smile on his face since his call with Damen. It has been a few hours after Damen simply talked about his day, about his brother, about the yacht his parents bought because they had too much money and nothing more to spend it on, anything he could think of. Laurent was more than happy to sit there and listen to his voice. He liked the man too much to do anything else about it.

He is currently studying for his upcoming biology exam on Tuesday. It’s not too bad of an exam, but there are endless terms, endless body functions, and he hates that all he can do is memorize everything. It’s not learning but it does result in an A. His phone buzzes beside him, and welcoming any distraction, he picks it up to see a text from Damen. He’s downstairs.

Laurent runs to his window to check if it’s true. Damen, knowing exactly what Laurent does every time he surprises Laurent with a visit, is looking up at him, waving. Damen’s at Laurent’s door. He isn’t supposed to be home yet, back in this city, but here he is, glowing under the porch light, gorgeous in his hoodie, and everything Laurent ever wanted. He’s speaking but Laurent, shaking his head with a look of disbelief, can’t hear him. 

“Wait one sec.” He whispers with a gesture and turns around to go downstairs in a hurry. Before opening the door, he fixes his hair and assumes a relaxed position, as if his heart isn’t pounding miles a minute at the prospect of Damen outside his house, at midnight. As if this doesn’t happen almost everyday.

Once he’s face to face with Damen’s kind eyes, with the smile that can only be read as extremely happy to see him, his heart hammers harder in his chest.

“What are you doing here?” Laurent breathlessly asks him with wide eyes, confusion and excitement evident on his face, try as he might to mask it.

Damen is also breathless, though Laurent can’t think of any reason why.

“I missed you.”

It’s a punch to all the right places in Laurent’s heart. It’s something he can never say to Damen out loud, but he feels it all the same, right down to his bones. It’s something he didn’t know Damen had the nerve to say out loud to him. 

“I mean-” Damen begins and Laurent’s face twitches. Damen must have caught it because he stops. “I mean yeah. I missed you so I drove back since there’s nothing to do at my parent’s anymore. And I got you this.”

Laurent doesn’t see the Target plastic bag in Damen’s hand until he lifts it. 

“It’s from my mom. She insisted I give you a home-cooked meal since she knows you’re mostly alone nowadays. She doesn’t stop hinting at my dad that she wants to go on a European tour too, see Paris- what? Why are you smiling?”

Laurent doesn’t know he’s smiling. He tries to school his expression even though it’s too late.

“Nothing. You’re here. No- it’s just- I don’t know what I’m saying. Come in.” He quickly says the sentences after the other, making Damen laugh and his cheeks flush. “Shut up.”

“I wasn’t saying anything!” Damen enters behind him, shaking with happiness. 

Laurent leads him to the kitchen, so he can put the food in the fridge. It’s too late to eat right now and he has a few more chapters to read.

Damen gives him the plastic bag and sits on the stool by the island. He stares at Laurent as he unpacks the tupperwares, then puts it in the fridge. A comfortable silence surrounds them, but Laurent is too conscious of Damen’s stare. It’s as if he can hear the dangerous somersaults Laurent’s heart was doing. 

“You still studying tonight?” 

“Yeah. Bio’s kicking my ass.”

“I’ll stay up with you. Nik’s not home yet, anyway. He visited his parents too since he was there already.”

“You don’t have to stay up.”

“No, I want-”

“But you can stay.”

“Well, I’m staying up and you can’t stop me.” Damen is right in front of Laurent's face when he turns to face him. He steps back quickly. “Cool?”

“Do whatever you want.” Laurent replies, heart in his throat, rushing to leave the kitchen and get to his room before Damen sees his face turn dangerously red. 

**

Laurent’s head is bent, back to Damen, busy reading the last chapter for his exam. Nothing is entering his brain anymore, but he has to read all of these at least two times to store it in his brain until his test. He’s been yawning since the third paragraph, and he has a massive headache which began in the previous chapter. 

It has been two hours since Laurent started studying and let Damen just be in the background. He would hear Damen’s little laughs, gasps, or groans at whatever game he was playing on his phone. He feels Damen’s gaze on his back, conscious of him being conscious of his every move. It was a normal routine for them at three am, but somehow, today, it was more. 

Laurent yawns again. This chapter about the reproductive system is very intriguing, but exasperating. He would rather do it himself than read about it. If only the man currently on his bed knew how much he has been thinking about him and this. He sighs at the idea, then hears Damen shuffle on his bed.

“I think you need to take a break.”

“Be quiet. I’m studying.”

“Take a break, Laurent. You’ve been reading nonstop for two hours. I got so bored I started counting how much you’re yawning. It's thirty-seven by the way.”

“That’s weird. Stop staring at me while I’m studying.”

“But I like looking at you all concentrated.” 

Laurent ignores him. “Just shut up. I have five more pages to go.”

Damen stands up and takes Laurent’s book. He holds it up above his head. Laurent rolls his eyes but doesn’t stand up.

“Give it back to me right now.” He crosses his arms like a stubborn child.

“Nope. You can try to grab it though.” The real stubborn child says.

“Just because you’re half a foot taller than me, doesn’t mean I can’t reach it.”

“Bet.” 

“I’m not in the mood for your games, Damen.”

“I’m not playing. Take a break.”

“Dude, I wanna sleep too. Just let me finish.”

“Dude?” Damen says, offended. Laurent ignores his tone again. He stares at Damen with eyebrows raised, trying to be intimidating, knowing well that it won’t work on Damen. “Fine. If you go to bed I’ll give it back to you. Even if you look super sleepy.”

“I’m not sleepy.” Just as Laurent finishes the last word, he yawns. 

Damen raises his eyebrows at him. “Thirty-eight.”

“Ha ha. Give me back the book.”

“When you go to bed.”

“I’m not falling for that.”

Damen falls back on Laurent’s bed. Maybe if he offered something else, Laurent might say yes. Maybe Laurent is just tired. 

“You gotta get this book one way or another.” Damen shrugs. 

Laurent stubbornly stays on his chair, staring daggers at Damen. What the hell is his problem? He didn’t ask him to stay up with him, he told him not to!

Laurent watches Damen flip through the book, knowing he hates it because he’s going to lose his spot. Still, he notices how Damen's index finger remains on the page he’s reading. It’s sweet, but Damen still sucks for making him take a break.

“Ugh.” Annoyed, Laurent stands and goes beside his bed. “I’m here. Hand it back.” 

“I have an idea.” Damen answers, not looking at him.

“Damen.” Laurent says, getting more aggravated by the second.

“Look, your eyes are so tired right now.”

“You’re not looking at me, and I can’t see my own eyes.”

Damen ignores him. “Did you even sleep last night?”

Laurent flushes when he remembers the reason why he hasn't slept well at all yet. It’s because of this annoying, clueless brute lying on his bed and he doesn’t even know! All the hours he spends pining for him, yet this is all that ever happens to them. 

“See? You haven’t.” Damen answers, interpreting Laurent’s expression as guilt and embarrassment. “Lie down right now and close your eyes.”

“Stop telling me what to do. I have to finish studying.” 

Laurent can just take the book, but he knows Damen will pull him and force him to lie down. God, if only Damen is going to do that for other reasons, he’d have done it the moment Damen told him to go to bed.

“I’ll read it to you.” 

“You’re going to what?” Laurent asks, genuinely taken aback.

“I'm gonna read to you while you rest your eyes. Saves time. You rest while you still learn. It’s a win-win.” Damen looks at him and smiles expectantly.

“That’s stupid, Damen. It’s five pages long. And it won’t go into my brain.” Laurent is exasperated. He’s losing patience. Hell, he doesn’t even know why he’s still keeping up this conversation. He could kick out Damen anytime. This is his house.

“Yes it would. You take in everything you hear fast.” Laurent opens his mouth to spit a vicious remark but Damen talks first. “Just let me help you. Please.”

Laurent closes his eyes, trying so hard, even though he doesn’t know why, to keep calm. He equally hates and loves Damen for making him take a break and for offering to read five pages of the reproductive system. He grits his teeth because he’s going to say yes, and he’s going to hear Damen talk about sex and sex parts without knowing what it will do to Laurent.

“You’re so annoying.” Laurent sits on the bed. Damen scoots to give him space with a wide smile on his face. “Why can’t I say no to you?” 

“It’s because secretly you really like me.”

He wants to strangle Damen. He wishes he could shake him and look him in the eye and scream “YES I FUCKING DO. DO YOU LIKE ME BACK, ASSHOLE?” Fuck him. It’s true. It’s so true, but Laurent is never going to admit that… first.

“Just read. Annoying prick.” He mumbles and makes himself comfortable on the bed. He makes sure there’s at least a foot gap between him and the idiot beside him.

“You can come closer. I don't bite.” Damen says, staring at Laurent with that glint in his eye, patting the space next to him.

“So fucking bossy.” Laurent says angrily and still scoots over. He’ll get over feeling Damen’s warmth and not being in his arms instead. “If I sleep, you better wake me up or I'm killing you.” 

He huffs as his head hits the soft pillow and his eyes close. It feels good. He thinks he hasn’t closed his eyes to blink in the past hours. 

“Can’t kill me if you’re sleeping.” Damen answers with confidence, settling back on the bed. Laurent feels him move until their shoulders touch, despite the purposeful one inch gap that Laurent left so this won’t happen. Now, he’s really annoyed and conflicted. But he doesn’t move away.

“Give me back the book.” 

“Kidding!”

“Just start.”

“So fucking bossy.” Damen teases. 

Laurent opens his eyes, ready to smack Damen or kick him out or maybe kiss him too, but he opens the book and starts reading loudly. “The penis is part of the male reproductive system. See Damen’s for ref-”

“I’m pretty sure it doesn't say your-” Laurent cuts him off.

“Shh, I’m reading.”

“Read properly, then. And I’m on the top of that page, first paragraph.”

Damen hushes him again. Laurent rolls his eyes but stays quiet. When Damen begins once more, he reads what Laurent told him to. Laurent feels his heart leap at that, desperate to reach out to Damen, put his head on his shoulder and listen from there. But he keeps his hands to himself. 

As Damen reads about functions of the reproductive organs, Laurent soaks in his voice and his warmth. Maybe, this isn’t such a bad idea. He can actually focus better. His eyes don’t hurt as much now, and he can picture the words that Damen reads. His deep voice compels him to listen, and it tugs at his heartstrings at the same time. He can’t even fathom how amazing it is to have Damen read a Biology book to him. 

This can’t be just a friendly gesture, Laurent’s brain nags at him. But he quickly kicks all thoughts of more because he knows Damen. Damen has probably done this with all of his friends. He’s just a nice guy who brings Laurent food and makes him take a break and reads his book for him, and Laurent just happens to like him. There’s nothing more.

He listens to Damen flip to the next page, and shuts off the part of his brain that continues to pine for the man beside him. He’ll take this right now and he’ll think about the repercussions tomorrow. Right now, he’ll let himself feel the warmth and comfort of Damen. Right now, he’ll listen to Damen’s voice, soothing him like a lullaby.

**

Laurent opens his eyes. It’s not dark, his lights are left on, and there’s an unfamiliar warmth beside him, something he’s unaccustomed to when he wakes alone. His head is on a harder surface, not on a pillow but- 

He shifts his eyes to the left and sees Damen's clothed chest. The chest his head is resting on right now. The chest his head rested on while he slept. The chest that’s steadily falling and rising. 

He slept and somehow, he ended up on Damen’s chest. He asked to be woken up if he slept, but he should have never trusted Damen. 

Damen, annoying, clueless Damen, whose clothed chest is under his head right now. 

He wants to move away, badly, but also, he can't. Because he wants to be here too, badly. 

Physically, there were no obstacles stopping Laurent from moving away. Damen’s arms aren’t even enveloping him. Somehow, he slept without touching Laurent, probably because he knows Laurent doesn’t like to be touched without permission. God, why is Damen so?

For a few moments, he imagines this is real. That Damen is his to sleep on, to cuddle with. That if Damen wakes right now, he’ll kiss Laurent sleepily, a lazy smile spreading across his face. So he stays for a few seconds, tempted to move his arm on top of Damen's torso and snuggle closer. He wants this to be what they are. But it’s not.

Before Laurent could do anything that he can’t explain to Damen without spilling his heart open, he sighs and prepares to move away. He no longer wants to hurt and delude himself further. He doesn’t want to think of this as a mistake, but it is. Damen doesn’t feel the same way he does. Damen is his best friend and he should stay that way. 

He moves back a little, but Damen shifts. He abruptly stops moving for a second to not wake him, but Damen puts his arms on top of him and brings him closer. 

“Don’t go.” A sleepy voice whispers as a kiss is pressed on Laurent’s forehead.

Laurent freezes. He must still be dreaming. There’s no way in hell or heaven that Damen just kissed him on the forehead, asleep or not. He swallows, too afraid to look up and find out if Damen did this on purpose or in his dream. In this position, Laurent’s head is even closer to Damen’s clothed chest and he can hear his steady heartbeat, can see the rise and fall of his chest, and can determine Damen isn’t awake at all. 

Laurent is going crazy. That’s it. He needs to leave, right now, but he can't move anymore. What the fuck is Damen doing to him? What the fuck is he dreaming about? Why can’t he just tell Laurent now that he likes him too, that nothing is ever simply friendly between them?

Once more, he tries to leave the embrace but Damen hugs him tighter. 

“Don’t go.” Damen whispers again. “Laurent, I love you.”

Laurent cannot move, cannot breathe, cannot close his eyes. He’s sure now. He’s the one dreaming.  

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

Idk about you but that trope where a giant gets angry and accidentally scares a tiny and feels bad abt it afterwards makes me go absolutely feral,,

So, originally, I was planning for this scene to be in a future chapter of This Is Nothing Like The Disney Star Wars Trilogy, but I could never really think of a full story arc around it, even though I still really really really love this idea. In any case, if I happen to brainstorm a better plot and find a way to squeeze this in I might edit it into the main story, otherwise enjoy some classic Giant Catboi and Twink Solider fearplay >:3c

--

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was!?”

As expected, the little one did not respond to his rhetorical question, though his tone certainly helped snap it out of its previous stupor as it released its death grip on his shirt in favor of squirming as soon as the bedroom door slid shut behind him. His aggravation at the situation was clear as day even without the usual language and cultural barrier that impeded any sort of deeper relationship Edix tried to form with the human. Red ears were still folded back against his curls and his shoulders tense, the stiff posture traveling down to his hands were they gripped the earthling to his chest perhaps just a touch more tightly than usual, not that it prevented it from trying to push and wriggle itself out of his overprotective hold.

Fuck no, he wasn’t ready to let it go yet, not when flecks of blood were still smeared against his knuckles as a result of an impromptu rescue mission. The satisfying snap of cartilage under his fist after one good sucker punch to Talan’s smug face still echoed in his mind, blood gushing from the surely broken nose while the biologist stumbled backwards into the shelves. Edix wondered if he would be reprimanded for that by the directors later, or if Talan would be too proud to report the ass kicking, maybe even taking the lesson to heart to not fuck with his things in the future. And yes, that included trying to vivisect his sweet little pet.

How was I supposed to know the stray belonged to you? He had asked with sarcastic innocence, as if the human in question hadn’t been seen with Edix a thousand times before, and wasn’t drenched in his scent, and didn’t have his ID code printed on the back of its little suit, Maybe if you weren’t such a wuss and actually put it on a shorter leash-

Asshole. He was lucky Edix’s only goal at the moment was to get the little one off the table and back to the appropriate sector rather than rip Talan to shreds with his own tools. A taste of his own medicine, perhaps. Still, he admittedly did have a point about the human, what with how much it would run off and get lost and damn near killed. He simply couldn’t figure out what was so terrible about staying in his company that the little one would risk injury and mutilation in a foreign environment as opposed to the safety and comfort he so desperately tried to provide for it. They might have had a bit of a rocky start, sure, but stars above that was far in the past now. There’s nothing either of them can do to change the facts so why not accept things as they are and make some type of effort to be happy in this new life? By all accounts, Edix was a great owner!

And yet, the little one still fought him every step of the way. Even now, having just saved it from a fate of having its tiny organs sliced while it was wide awake, it made it known it did not want to be near him anymore. It might have been clinging to him the entire walk back to the bedroom, but it must have remembered it was supposed to be oblivious to the notion of genuine love and safety because now it started to stutter out little squeaks on top of struggling. Normally, Edix adored any and all of the sounds it made, especially when it was directly trying to talk to him which only served to give him the mental image of a pup mindlessly babbling before they managed their first few words. This time, however, it only worsened his irritation.

“Stop.” He ordered, which the human somewhat complied with, though it probably had more to do with his harsher tone and the fact that he was already lowering his hand towards the bed to set it down. As soon as it was free of his hold, it scrambled back, looking at him with those wide brown eyes that were full of so much fear it made him sick. Why did it have to be so afraid of him? What could he have possibly done that even now, almost a cycle later, it was still overtly wary of his intentions. All he ever did was care for it. Feed it, pet it, cuddle it, protect it, and still nothing was good enough!

With a tired sigh, he rubbed his hand down his face and resisted the urge to tug at his hair. “I just don’t understand,” he pleaded, begging some cosmic being out there to suddenly grant the little one the power to understand what he was saying, “what can I possibly do to prove to you that I’m not going to hurt you? I’m trying to keep you alive and it’s like...I don’t know, you resent me for that or something!”

The sweet thing looked more confused at his words than anything, but he could tell his body language and voice were making it uneasy. The human was used to soft words and purrs and slow movements, rarely any agitation in his being. After a beat of silence marked by an intense stare down, Edix gave up on hoping the earthling would miraculously explain itself and open up to sharing its thoughts on the matter. He reached for it and it instinctively back up, flinching when a growl rumbled in his throat in response.

“Stop running,” it was a fruitless endeavor, but like hell if he wouldn’t stop trying. That was how new pups learned how to understand a language anyways, wasn’t it? To repeat certain words over and over until they got the idea? Maybe that’s all he needed to do here, maybe by now it already knew the Venandi words for no, stop, be good, and so on. He reached for it again and it did the same thing as last time, always sure to stay just out of the most convenient reach. Not that it mattered how much it inched away seeing how it was trapped on the bed with Edix directly in front of it, but it was the principal of the matter.

And it was then that something inside him snapped. Something primal as a result of dealing with an unruly pup far too long for his nerves to handle at this moment. He wasn’t even aware of his actions, belatedly realizing how he pounced on the bed in a flash, the human scrambling to get away but only having enough time to turn around before being roughly pinned on its stomach against the mattress. His teeth were bared and pressed tightly against its back, fangs scraping against the layers of its clothes to no doubt bruise the tender flesh underneath, though thankfully they didn’t break the skin. A loud growl reverberated though its entire body, shaking it to its core.

“Enough.” He hissed against its back, keeping his teeth pressed into its skinny frame for a moment longer before pulling away. The second he did, his glare softened, all the anger he felt gone in an instant as soon as he saw the sight underneath him.

The poor thing was absolutely petrified.

It was probably the worst it’s ever been scared, arguably. Not even the first time they met, when it had so gracefully tumbled down that hill and landed face first in front of him, compared to the level of fear that radiated off it. A split-second thought had Edix wondering if he had legitimately scared it to death. Soon enough, though, he was able to pick up the minute tremors that shook through it, almost like an aftershock of the warning that it felt more than heard. It was pale, baby face devoid of color not unlike that time before when it had been sick with fever. But its eyes...those sweet little doe eyes he loved so much were wide and wet with a sheen of tears that refused to fall, locked in a blank stare straight ahead towards the wall and refusing to look at him.

A small, choked hiccup made its body twitch every couple of breaths, but it refused to open its mouth to allow any of these sniffles to turn into cries. Shit, it refused to move at all, too terrified of Edix’s threat display that if it did anything he didn’t like there would be dire consequences to pay. He supposed it worked exactly as intended, in that case. It was still, it was quiet, it was technically obeying him after he just forced it to behave via alternative punishment. That didn’t change the fact that he felt absolutely, terribly, extremely awful about what he just did.

It was just a pup, as he always said, regardless of what Ylva would tell him about human adolescence and such. It didn’t know any better, it had never been raised in these situations before and needed much longer than a measly cycle to unlearn all of its prey behaviors it needed to survive on its home planet. Besides, it wasn’t that it didn’t fully know that it was perfectly safe with Edix, it was smart enough to know he was at the very least the safest option when presented with any other Venandi. Edix had been upset, and it knew he was upset, so of course it would want to avoid a potentially hostile predator before-

--before it snatched the little one in its teeth.

Fuck, fuck, he was an idiot. Maybe he wasn’t as cut out for this as he thought, not like Ylva who was the very essence of motherhood. No. Now wasn’t the time for self doubts and pity, not when the human was in such a state. Slowly, hands cupped around its shaking form, mindful to make sure his fingers were in its view so it wouldn’t be any more startled when he lifted it up, not that he was completely sure it was actually seeing anything in front of it. The little one hardly reacted to the movement, laying limp when he pressed it against his chest and moved to sit up against the headboard of the bed in a similar fashion to what he had done the first night the poor thing was on the ship.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s okay,” he whispered to it, rubbing his thumb along the curve of its back just how it liked whenever it dozed, “you’re okay, we’re fine, it’s okay to cry. I’m sorry I scared you, I’m so sorry.”

Normally in these types of instances, he’d be purring and shushing the little sweetheart until he was able to get it down for a nap, but he had little confidence that any other types of chest vibrations would have its usual effect of making the human drowsy currently. When it finally started blinking again, the tears that had welled up ran freely down its cheeks, quickly biting down on its wobbling lip to prevent any sobs from escaping and get it in trouble for misbehaving. He softly clicked his tongue at it and cooed, anything to put it at ease with a softer demeanor. “I know, honey, I know. I won’t ever do that again, I promise."

Well, if nothing else, at least the little one’s apprehension of him wasn’t unfounded anymore, much to his dismay.

[dontcallmeroro]

Hi! I’m always curious about people’s Nick x Ziggy headcanons. Nick is obviously a piece of shit, but something about them (or the potential they had) is so intriguing to me. Do you have any headcanons? I love talking to people about this pairing since I write a lot for them.

omg yes absolutely, I had such high hopes for them after the second movie so part of me definitely still loves them together lol :'/

here are a couple I can think of on the spot:

ziggy is definitely English/history smart and nick is science/maths smart (he's good at everything let's be honest but that's his favourite) so they begin to tutor each other on their favourite topics - the shady side education system isn't exactly great so ziggy really needs it so she can get the hell outta shady side.

nick totally teaches ziggy to drive so she isn't dependent on him or forced to get the bus while he's off at college - she attempts to drive stick in his precious vintage car and promptly gets banned from driving any car other than her own after that.

nick loves everything about ziggy, her ferocity, her intelligence, the way she furrows her brow when she gets immersed in the newest Stephen King release, the way she bites her lip while pouring over math assignments while the slow beat of classic rock hums in the background... but his favourite thing is 100% her hair, if she ever feels the need to aggravate nick (which is usually 2x per week), she simply baits him by pretending to take scissors to her almost waist length hair and she's never seen him so determined to pry said scissors from her hands.

in the future nick and ziggy move far far away from their respective upbringings, first to a big city for college and to experience the true young adult experience. but after that they fall more towards a town a quick bus ride from the city, close to friends, away from family and prejudices, yet just as far away from college life, the antithesis of the picket fence trophy wife style life nick grew up with. ziggy works with children with trauma, possibly a play therapist or maybe even a family lawyer. nick teaches American literature at the closest university and has plenty of opportunities to write in his spare time. they get married young, not too young, it takes ziggy some time to even accept the idea of marriage and children, only with the help of years of therapy and self reflection does ziggy finally feel comfortable with such big commitments. nick proposes in college as more of a promise proposal, complete with a promise ring and a speech about wanting to spend forever with her and being totally okay with waiting for 50 years if that's when she's ready. ziggy proposes the second time, she's 24 and he's 25, she doesn't get down on one knee or give him a ring, instead she gives him a first edition copy of Carrie with her intimate annotations throughout, it's not the norm, it's very *them*. they marry in a tiny intimate gathering, only close friends, barely any family, an autumn wedding, beautiful leaves decorate the street, shining like ziggys hair as they catch the brief rays of sunshine. Down the line they have 2 daughters, Aurora and ophelia (rory n lia), aurora after nick loves of all things celestial (ziggy STARdust hmmm), and ophelia, despite the cliche, after ziggys secret love of Shakespeare and hamlet in particular. rory, despite her dad's love of astrology, is her mums mini me, complete with the flaming red wavy hair and witty commentary. her dad's eyes sit behind large circular glasses that neither ziggy or nick are quite sure the origin of, as neither wear glasses. she loves 70s music, films, sketching, reading, the colour yellow, and her cat dusty. lia has flowing dark hair that rivals her mums as it sits just under her waist, despite her namesake she is extremely perceptive, intelligent, and street smart, the least naive little girl ever seen. ziggy swears she sees a touch of Cindy in lia here and there, sometimes even thinking her sister is casually sat at the kitchen table when she's not yet had a few cups of coffee. at age 8 she lovingly, although a slightly bitter sweet act, names her puppy lucinda (cindy when she's not ripping up the newspaper), and the 2 are rarely seen without each other.

(I got nothing else sorry besties lol - also I'm English hence any colloquialisms or weird spellings, I also have zero energy to proof read this)