#(who can in fact chuck wood)

[bonemeal12]

Hrrrggg essay has an EVIL limit at 800 words you can’t let me talk about the Comics Code and the Hays Code and queer representation and censorship in media and make me STOP TALKING I still have SO MUCH MORE TO TALK ABOUT PLEASEPLEASEPL

[ew-selfish-art]

Dpxdc AU: consultant groups can be used to outsource problems for companies so why not monarchies?

Danny is listening to the various eyeballs and ghosts chatter on about all the issues that he now has to oversee and advise and make so many freaking decisions on. It’s annoying that it all has to come down to his call because he was a dumb 14 year old who didn’t want his town to permanently live in the ghost zone.

Now 17, King of the Infinite, and a bit wiser to the world, Danny is doing his best to balance his teenage ambitions to not give a shit and his protective obsession to very much give a shit.

Sams parents are making her learn the family business and Tucker is trying to make this internship he’s got with a fancy tech company out of New Jersey into a career without college… so while they’re commiserating with Danny the idea comes up.

Earth has a shit ton of heroes. Like, ever since the Justice League *poofed* the GIW out of existence with the Meta human acts- more and more caped crusaders seemed to be coming out of the wood work. More villains too but still, more people who seemed wise to their abilities and morals. Danny has literally never taken an ethics class.

But rn, Eye-mothy and Eye-Bert are arguing over how Danny as King Phantom is supposed to tackle the problem of some fucking pool acting as a weird trade route with a cult and… ugh it’s just so boring but like also such a fucking problem. But… maybe it can be someone else’s issue.

Opening a portal, Danny escapes into space and gets to work finding the base of operations- Tucker had told him there was a new satellite after all and there’s no way it wasn’t connected to the hero orgs- and boom he flies into the Watchtower.

“Hey- are any of you guys willing to consult on some weird pools of ectoplasm in Pakistan? Green and glowing little lakes of bullshit and magic?” Danny asks into the meeting room of the JL regardless of their startled and alarmed exclamations.

“… I could consult on that.” A voice comes from the corner, and Danny recognizes him as one of the bat people. Or bird? The guy is in a lot of red and clearly wasn’t supposed to be in this meeting based on the way he’s propped in the corner. The room erupts in protest but Danny barely hears them through his excitement and focus on the dude.

“Great! I’ll have him back before the end of the day! Lets go Bird boy!” And with that, Danny grabbed the Bird, chucked them both through a portal back into his thrown room and begins to explain the way these eyeballs are totally trying to trap him into doing more work than he needs to do.

“What do I call you by the way? I’m Danny but you’ll probably hear them call me King Phantom.”

“I go by Red Robin, and honestly, I’ve been trying to get this shit taken care of for years.”

From there Tim becomes a regular consultant for King Phantom- the Bat Family is losing their minds with him constantly going to the land of the dead but also Constantine said not to piss off the king at all costs.

Danny is just thrilled that this dude has a shit ton of insight as well as business sense- like he could legit run the monarchy way better than him despite the fact that they’re the same age.

They end up working together for years, and even when there’s not an active issue at hand, Danny will meet up with the bird just to talk.

Sam and Tucker think they’re hilarious each time they ask if Danny’s proposed yet.

Tim has already planned their wedding but all of that information is in a folder more secured than the nuclear codes- Danny needs to ask him on a date first.

[the-music-maniac]

Not that I read mpreg all that often (not really my thing generally speaking) but I came across some "Sanji is pregnant" fics in the sanzo/zosan tag, and not nearly the same amount for Zoro. It got me thinking about the trope. I think the lack of Zoro fics here is a tragic oversight. I think we as a fandom are absolutely and tragically ignoring the potential comedy gold of Zoro being the one to be pregnant instead.

Because when people write Sanji, the general trend I'm seeing (upon scanning through some of the fics quickly) is that he's cautious about it. Conscientious, careful to make sure things are okay. Which - arguably I could see, Sanji is probably the more practical of the two (not by a whole lot but still)and he didn't have a good childhood. Sanji being pregnant is usually a fic about his heaps of parental issues, childhood trauma and angst - which is fun to read. It's good. It's amazing, even.

Zoro being pregnant is ONE HUNDRED PERCENT gonna be a COMEDY. We're talking about a man who once tried to fight Kuina holding like 20 bokkens. We're talking about a man who got stuck in wax and thought the reasonable solution was to cut off his legs.

The entire crew spends the next 9 months tearing their hair out, preventing Zoro from doing stupid shit (exhibit A: cutting off his own limbs). They spend the same amount of time trying to stop Luffy from gum-gum-grabbing Zoro and yeeting him anytime he needs to get them out of a sticky situation.

The crew (mostly Sanji) is on 24/7 prevent-zoro-from-drinking-alcohol duty (impossible). Chopper is constantly stressed in the later months cause no one puts it past Zoro to get lost somewhere, give birth out in the woods and come strolling back with a baby tucked under his arm. They have to start hiding Zoro's dumbbells.

Franky and Usopp design and build a nursery and spends the entire time suspiciously teary eyed. Sanji tries to pretend he's unaffected but spends an entire night creating a 9 month meal plan of all the nutrients Zoro and the baby are gonna need. Not even a day later, one of the crew finds him up at 2 am making a mountain of food because Zoro made the mistake of offhandedly mentioning he had particular pregnancy craving within earshot of Sanji. In the end Zoro has to sit on him to stop Sanji from running himself ragged.

Robin keeps spouting morbid childbirth facts and quotes from parental advice books in equal measure. Nami keeps going on shopping sprees for cute baby clothes and adding the cost of them to Zoro's debt. Brook keeps writing lullabies and trying to sing them to Zoro's stomach. Zoro 100% uses his pregnancy belly as an excuse to walk around without a shirt 24/7 without getting nagged.

Somehow word gets out that the famous pirate hunter Zoro is pregnant, and at the next big fight with the Marines, half the soldiers refuse to fight him and instead start telling him to sit down, take it easy, shouting advice at him etc. Etc. Zoro loses his shit a little bit and cuts their boat in half.

Mihawk, upon finding out, tells Zoro in no uncertain terms that that is his grandchild and he's expecting them to visit so he can meet the baby when they're born. Zoro vehemently denies that Mihawk is his father (he is). Zeff upon finding out, is almost as bad as Sanji when it comes to being a mother hen. Perona buys even more baby clothes for the baby. She buys one singular shirt for Zoro as a joke, and it coincidentally happens to be the exact same brand of "mama" crop top he was forced to wear in that one filler episode. Zoro tries to chuck it into the ocean (he fails).

I'm essentially saying it would be absolute chaos, and it would be the funniest thing I've ever read. 9 months of Marimo wrangling. Can you imagine the look on Zoro's face if one of the opponents he was fighting were to tell him that he's "glowing"?

PLEASE, I would actually wheeze myself to death. The best part is you can still have plenty of Sanji angst. He still has parental issues except now they're flavoured with "I'm not ready to be a father" and "I'm terrified I'm gonna become my biological sperm donor" and "please don't die because of childbirth complications, that happened to my mother(sort of, I know she died after but it kinda counts), and I can't handle that happening again to you". Lots of cute/tender moments of Zoro comforting and reassuring Sanji. We can even have Zoro angst. He probably views protecting his crew as the one and only job he's good for (not true but that's probably what he thinks). Not being able to fulfill that is probably not helping his self esteem, and that sense of uselessness warring with his need to protect the baby - but the contradictory thing here is that to protect the baby he HAS to sit back and let other people do that FOR him. That plus all the other restrictions, people treating him differently, but him at the same time refusing to view his own child as a weakness. Imagine the havoc that would wreak. Oh my god.

Y'all don't understand, I don't even read mpreg that often and yet this is literally my ideal fic HAHAAAAA

[duckprintspress]

Let’s Go Lesbians! 32 Books for Lesbian Visibility Day

TODAY! is Lesbian Visibility Day, the first day of Lesbian Visibility Week – April 26, 2024. We are, I’m sure you’re shocked to discover, celebrating with LOTS of lesbian books! 15 people contributed to making this list, all of us sharing our absolute faves, from graphic novels to epic novels, from memoirs to horror fiction, with explicit rep and implied. With this many awesome books to share, we’re prepared to guarantee that everyone who loves wlw lit can find something new to them on this amazing list!

Interesting Facts About Space by Emily Austin

The Essential Dykes to Watch Out For by Alison Bechdel

Belle of the Ball by Mari Costa

Kiss Number 8 by Colleen AF Venable & Ellen T. Crenshaw

She Wears the Midnight Crown Anthology

Delilah Green Doesn’t Care by Ashley Herring Blake

The Scapegracers & The Scratch Daughters by H.A. Clarke

Spinning by Tillie Walden

The Girl from the Sea by Molly Knox Ostertag

The Ruin of Angels by Max Gladstone

The Traitor Baru Cormorant by Seth Dickinson

The Red Scholar’s Wake by Aliette de Bodard

Siren Queen by Nghi Vo

She Gets the Girl by Rachael Lippincott & Alyson Derrick

Camp Damascus by Chuck Tingle

One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston

Those Who Wait by Haley Cass

Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

Legends & Lattes by Travis Baldree

Into the Bloodred Woods by Martha Brockenbrough

From Here by Luma Mufleh

Alice Isn’t Dead by Joseph Fink

Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic by Alison Bechdel

Are You My Mother? A Comic Drama by Alison Bechdel

A Memory Called Empire & A Desolation Called Peace by Arkady Martine

Female General, Eldest Princess by Please Don’t Laugh

Clear And Muddy Loss of Love by Please Don’t Laugh

This Is How You Lose the Time War by Max Gladstone & Amal El-Mohtar

Down Among the Sticks and Bones by Seanan McGuire

A Restless Truth by Freya Marske

The Princess and the Grilled Cheese Sandwich by Deya Muniz

Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead by Emily Austin

Can’t get enough books with lesbians? Yeah, us neither – this new list for 2024 is on top of THREE rec lists of titles featuring lesbians that we posted last year.

Lesbian Visibility Week Recs Part 1

Lesbian Visibility Week Recs Part 2

Duck Prints Press Short Stories with Lesbian Characters

You can also view this list (along with all our other wlw faves!) as a shelf on Goodreads!

See a book you want to buy? You can grab it through the Duck Prints Press Bookshop.org affiliate shop!

What are YOUR favorite reads with lesbian characters?

[yourdeepestfathoms]

The Lark and Hunting

Sometimes, hunting is a necessary evil.

It’s not fun, to be so close and connected to nature, and have to take a life from it to further your own.

But there’s a cycle.

And that cycle must not be broken.

Perrine does all the hunting.

Cole downright refuses to hunt animals. They’ll eat them, but they won’t kill anything.

Clémentine, bless their heart, tried. They really did.

But when they stared down the arrow at the tender face of a doe, the way she almost seemed to resign to her fate when she saw them standing there, they just couldn’t bring themself to shoot.

Perrine told them not to personify the animals. They know not of human emotion- not really. Thinking about their family won’t help you survive.

But they still couldn’t do it.

They broke down into tears, apologizing to both the unslain deer and to Perrine.

And they haven’t tried again since.

Kingsley simply isn’t allowed to touch a weapon.

So, it’s Perrine’s job.

Perrine hunts with a bow and arrow. Because guns aren’t whimsy.

The kids (read as: Perrine) own two bows- one that Perrine bought, and one that Perrine made herself.

There will be days where she’s gone from sunrise to sunset, just crouched somewhere in the woods, waiting.

Sometimes she’ll climb up into a tree and perch there. Other days she’ll sit in a bush for hours.

Hunting is tedious and long and boring, but it needs to be done if she wants everyone to be fed.

When you’re out there, you don’t really have anything but your thoughts. And it’s best to put any demons to rest before you go out.

Perrine has a lot of time to think.

Too much, in fact.

She wasn’t raised to engage in bloodsports. It’s unbecoming of her.

She’s a kid. She shouldn’t have to be doing this.

And yet, she is.

She gets used to it, over time.

Or so she tells herself.

But, man, did she cry the first time she ever killed her first animal.

It was a rabbit. A tiny little thing that wouldn’t even be enough to feed the whole group.

And she wept over it.

Even now, she feels bad for every animal she hunts. Despite what she said to Clémentine about not humanizing the animals. She’s a hypocrite who can’t take her own advice.

After every kill, she’ll kneel by the body and just give it a moment of silence, paying her respects.

Despite this, though, there’s something calming about hunting—when her thoughts aren’t as loud as a roar, of course.

She feels so close to nature when she’s out in the wilderness. It’s just her and the trees and the animals.

So it isn’t always so bad. And she doesn’t always hate it.

BUT ALSO.

It can be frustrating.

Waiting out there for hours, and then coming back empty-handed, either because she just didn’t find anything or because she messed up her chances somehow.

Because the slightest slip up can ruin everything for you.

Slightly shifting her weight and causing the grass beneath her to just barely crunch, sneezing, breathing out just a bit too loudly, and suddenly the animal she’s been stalking all day is gone.

Perrine has exploded into full screeches of rage and chucked her bow over this.

Kingsley, to the others, hearing Perrine’s howls of fury echo all the way to their house: it sounds like it’s going well!

Perrine mostly hunts foxes, birds, and small game such as rabbits and squirrels. Deer and wild boars are a little harder for her to take down.

Plus, deer are quite big, and she is a preteen. So it’s always difficult to get the deer back to the cottage. Because they’re hard to carry, and she doesn’t want to drag them because that’ll ruin their hide. She usually ends up carrying them on her back, though.

She once carried a boar over her shoulders because it’s the easiest way to transport animals, and she got fleas from it. She was so pissed.

She doesn’t hunt moose.

Of course, being out in the woods is dangerous for a kid her age.

She once encountered a bear in the woods. It was a black bear. She managed to scare it off by making herself as big as possible while shouting, but it was still a terrifying moment. She didn’t risk pissing it off by shooting at it.

She also once got attacked by a wild boar. In her opinion, those things are more dangerous than a bear. Meaner than one, too. That little bastard attacked her for no reason!

She got charged at by a buck in rut before.

Another time, she shot a deer, and it bolted straight at her. It plowed over her, and when she reached back to feel where she had been struck by its antlers, her hands came back bright red. She thought for sure she had been impaled and was bleeding out, and she started saying her final prayers, but luckily, it was just the blood from the deer. She did have MASSIVE bruising all over her back, though.

Perrine beefs with other hunters.

She hates people who hunt for sport. In her head, if they aren’t going to at least eat the animal, it’s senseless killing.

Her most prized game was this gorgeous ten-point buck. His rack literally had her awestruck- she had never seen antlers that big and beautiful before. (He was a pain in the ass to haul back to the cottage, but it was worth it, both for that skull and for the meat he gave to them).

She tries not to kill doe, just in case they have a baby somewhere.

Alongside hunting, Perrine also handles the grisly task of skinning and gutting.

And she sometimes resents the others for not swallowing their nausea and helping her, giving her a goddamn break from all this work, but there’s no point in complaining.

Gutting is…well, gruesome, to say the least.

It’s not only physically taxing, but emotionally taxing, too.

Something about digging your young, shaking hands into the hot viscera of something that was once living, something that you stole the life from, something that you killed, takes a tole on your mental wellbeing after a while.

But it needs to be done.

A necessary evil.

There’s a general rule to not bother Perrine when she’s gutting unless absolutely necessary.

Perrine strongly believes in using every part of an animal.

The meat is obviously eaten. If she doesn’t immediately cook it, she’ll preserve it by curing it for another day.

The guts are also eaten, especially during the winter when money is tight and food is even tighter, what with their garden being pretty much dead. The others are less than thrilled about having to eat liver and heart and brains, especially Kingsley, who will complain, and Perrine has simply stopped telling them that they’re eating guts. Where’s the harm in lying?

And then the guts that aren’t eaten get chucked into a bin and are used to attract flies, which then make maggots, which are then used for feed for their quails (because additional hc: the kids raise quail because i think it’s cute).

Sinew is used to make cordage, but the process is aggravating.

Fat is used for a variety of things, such as butter substitutes, candles, soap, and salve. Clémentine and Cole both enjoy making candles and soap together!

Bones are also used in a variety of ways!Sometimes Perrine will use them as decorations, carving them to make chimes or other little trinkets. Or they’ll be crafted into weapons. Or they’ll be used for food, though Perrine is the only one who actually likes the taste of bone marrow. Or, if she doesn’t want to do any of that, she’ll grind them down to make fertilizer. And, of course, she keeps the skulls for herself.

Antlers are used for weapons. Or Perrine just keeps them for decoration.

Fur is, of course, used for clothing and decoration. Fleshing can be tedious, but it’s worth it in the end. Perrine will keep her favorite hides for herself, just to display in her room. Sometimes she’ll sell the hides to make some extra money.

Once, some hides Perrine left out rotted because they got too damp outside, and she had a full mental breakdown over it. It had been a bad week to begin with, and that was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Overall, it’s a grisly job. Every part of it. Even the good.

But it’s necessary.

[sensei-venus]

i am more than happy to give you karate kid requests! i just thought you would rather write for the cobra kai characters, so i never sent anything in. with that, would you be down to write something young!daniel x female reader where the two of them sneak out of class to make out in the janitor's closet? a bit smutty but not too heavy, mostly just focused on the kissing? it's a concept i find so hot but there aren't any fics out there for it. 😫 let me know if you get this ask because i know tumblr likes to eat them sometimes. take care!

(Unedited) (Support the Writer🌺) (Young!Daniel being…Young!Daniel??,Kissing, Slight Make out, Slight Grouping, Kissing in a closet at school)

Reader narrowed as she looked across the crowded classroom. Eyes falling onto her boyfriend who sat only a row ahead of her. His head was down as he finished working on his class assignment. Daniel always had a thing for trying to finish every single piece of class work before the bell rang. Because he was to lazy to take it home and do it for homework.

She rolled her eyes out of love for the boy and briefly looked away. In that split second her eyes meet the teachers. The older women sat at the front of the class at her over populated desk. Folders and papers where scattered over the dark stained wood. A large stack of book sat on the very corner.

“Reader would you mind running these up to the front office for me? Someone requested them and seeing as we aren’t using them, they need to be returned.”

Reader nodded quickly and studs up from her seat. She walked down the aisle and row of desks and passed some of her peers, no one seemed to take notice. She picked up the stack of books and tried her best to balance them in her grasp. The large stack wobbled a bit in her hold making her jerk a little. For a moment she thought they would tip out of her hands and fall to the floor. Luckily they didn’t as a pair of strong hands held hers steady. She sighed out on relief as she regained her balance of the heavy books.

A few books where removed and she was finally able to see who the person was who helped her. It was Daniel, he grinned her way as he took some of the books.

“Daniel if you could help her to the office with those? They are quiet heavy.”

“Of course miss! Be right back.”

Daniel gave a cheeky smile to the women before leading the way out of the class room. Reader was slow to follow behind him. The books weighing her down a little. They walked side by side as they made their way to the office.

Daniel smirked at her saying “So did you really need help or did you just want to to rush in and save the day.” He wiggled his brows at her. Rolling her eyes she scoffed “Oh yeah because I needed mister save the day to come to my rescue for some text books falling.” She tried to play off the earlier events. He chuckled at her clearly embarrassed expression.

“If it wasn’t for the fact that I love you I would have kicked you in the kneecaps.”

“Baby it’s to late in the day for that kind of violence.”

“Oh lover boy it’s definitely not.”

The trip to the office was quick to say the very least. The front office lady was to busy trying to organize returned piles of text books to even notice them. The two teens just stuffed to each other before setting the books down on the counter and leaving.

The wall back to class was more interesting then the walk up.

Daniel slowly inched closer to her until their shoulders touched. One of his hands snacking around her waist. He was lucky no one was in the hall way because he definitely would have gotten the two of them put into after school detention. He pulled her close, chucking a little and sucked hid front teeth. His lips where right by her ear when he said “How about we make a little detour for a minute. So we can have a little fun~”

Reader wanted to laugh as he tried to pull wool over her eyes. She knew what he wanted pretty clearly.

“We are not doing that in school today-“

“Not that, though I would be down for it. I mean a little kiss, or should I say a little kissing. Plural~”

They looked around for a split second to make sure the hall was still clear before taking off toward the closest janitor closet. Luck for them it was unlocked. Daniel quickly pulled her in and shut the door behind them, he flicked on a old dim light over head. It only brightened the room a bit and put a show of her face as he looked at her. The room was cramped, barely holding them.

Reader grew a little excited as they both tried to stay quiet. Hoping no one would hear them in the closet and get them caught. She had to cover her mouth to stop the small giggle that bubbled out as Daniel looked back at the door for a split second before back to her. He smirks as his hands find her waist again, running up her hips and sides. He bends down a little and moves closer to her. His eyes lidded as he looks down at her.

Their lips meet gently, soft and sweet. Daniel’s lips are soft and warm against hers. Pillowy and sweet and make her melt inside from just their very touch. She wished that she could lie and say he was a bad kisser, but he wasn’t.

Daniel LaRusso was a great kisser. He knew every trick in the book to make her knees week. He used his tricks to silence her every time their lips meet. Playing her like he knew every single button to make she swoon. She feel for it every single time.

Her breath hitched as he felt up her sides and ghosted over her breasts. He smirked into the kiss and swollowed every tiny noice she made. Moans bubbled up from her chest and passsed her lips.

Her eyes fluttering when his tongue slid along her bottom lip asking for entry. She allowed him to part her lips. Their tongues shyly meeting and playing together. Reader gripped onto the boys shoulders as things got more intense. Her nails digging into his shirt as they slam into each other. It’s only a matter of time before they half way part only to go back in. Lips meeting once again.

They are so caught up in each other they they barely register the sound of loud voices out inside the hallway. They jerk back from each other for a moment. Panting out they hold on to each other, a think layer of spit connecting them before it silently snaps. Ending their connection. They both stare at the door intently. Eyes never leaving the light stained wood door.

“Johnny that’s sick man! How did you score that?”

“Shit up man, don’t ask don’t tell. Now come on so we can go smoke this weed. That asshat principle almost caught us the last time we tried to light one up in the bathroom. I want to get one in before pe.”

The sound of Dutch and Johnny slowly faded down the hallway. Only the sound of their shoes lingered in the air.

Daniel coughed lightly, still flustered from the idea of possibly getting caught. Reader zipped her lips tight as she looked up to him. Eyes big and round. Blinking a few times to put on a little charm.

“Man you really try and act all innocent like I didn’t just have my tongue in your mouth.”

“Humm but I think you like that about me don’t you??”

She giggled as the boy sweeper down and smashed his lips to hers.

Starting a sloppy make out session all over again.

[minstrel-in-the-gallery]

Why YOU should get into jethro Tull!!

You’ll never run out of things to listen to, with over 200 songs and 23 studio albums!

Each album has a slightly different genre to the last, you can go from blues to prog to folk to hard rock!

Every single member is so darn cute 😭 that’s like an added extra bonus

They’re pretty too 🥰

They have about 1,034,264 line up changes, so you never run out of new musicians to obsess over!

You gain a new friend (me!) and a close knit community on tumblr of regular Tull posters (again, me!)

No one else knows them, yet somehow they were one of the top ranking bands in the 70s. Flex on your family and friends with your cool knowledge! For example, did you know Jethro Tull is in fact not a the lead band member, but rather the name of the band? Cool stuff right 😎

1979 😐

They have amazing musicianship! They’re insanely talented, and absolutely blow your socks off in live performances. Give “Bursting out”, their live album from 1978 a listen, or chuck on a concert from YouTube!

Where should I start?

Well, that depends on you! Because each album is so different, it can be hard to choose. Here are a few helping notes to consider

The 70s were their peak era, any album from this time is gold! Songs from the wood, Heavy Horses and Stormwatch are known as the folk trio. Thick as a Brick and A Passion Play are proggy concept albums. Aqualung is super rocking, Minstrel is acoustic and This Was is blues. Venturing into the 80s and beyond may not be wise for the first time, unless you really like your synth.

Whose who? What’s all this I hear about lineups?

Jethro Tull went through a lot of personnel. Some names you might keep hearing are

Ian Anderson. He’s the main guy, and he’s on every album. Does the flute, singing and weird faces

Martin Barre. Guitarist for almost every album except the first! (And the last 2 but we don’t talk about that.) literal cutest person in the world. His middle name is Lancelot, for crying out loud

Barriemore Barlow. Drummer from ‘72-‘79, insanely talented, loves his short shorts and singlets (in red). Was favoured as a replacement for Bonham in Zeppelin.

John Evan. Piano player, half insane half beautiful mermaid person thing??? His fursona is a rabbit and has a habit of chucking stoves out the windows.

Basically, you can’t go wrong! Enjoy this train wreck of a band <3 (and if I don’t see any Tull dedicated blogs popping up in the next 24 hours I’m hitting someone over the head with my flute)

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

PLZ🙏🏼🙏🏼 can you please do more gravity falls AU with the YV boys🙏🏼🙏🏼

Fucking gnomes. It's always gnomes.

TW: Death threat (but like it's justified bc Boo almost got kidnapped), attempt at force marriage, attempt at kidnapping

Rip to Alphonse's car window

When Seth tried telling Sugarboo about the different entities, how they are all over the town. Alphonse at first called bullshit, not believing it since he hasn's seen any. However, the pinkette was about to start believing.

Jake, a man? Boo got to know during like the past month. Became friends and Boo was happy getting to know a younger adult, since it was a lot of old people in town. But there has been a lot of new movers here so Boo was happy to even meet Jake.

Alphonse was chill meeting him, not really caring just happy Boo had another friend. Seth, on the other hand was very suspicious of the man. How he moved his body weirdly, even telling Boo but they scolded him.

"Okay, Seth. He's not some entity he's just a regular man. Who's my friend so please don't just insult him." Sighing out, Boo was getting ready to meet Jake in the woods. He wanted to show them some flowers he found in the woods in a pretty clearing. He even showed them a picture, it was very beautiful and Boo was sure Seth took them there once.

"Sugar, please. I think he's something supernatural! I mean the way his body moves! Why does it look so weirdly robotic? Like something trying to look human?" Pleading Seth opened his journal, showing them the pictures. Pointing to a few he thought the 'man' Boo befriended might be.

"Seth, I even meet the guy. I think he's just awkward because he's in a old country town with no one he knows." Alphonse rolled his eyes as he gave Seth a unimpressed look. The brunette has been going on this for like a week now. Saying what tipped him off was Jake going to the wood and diapering quickly, like he vanished.

"Okay, I'm going to go meet my friend and if something happends I'll call you." Waving the southern man's worries, Boo walked away. Grabbing their car keys and going out the door, Seth groaned as he heard the front door close and the car start.

"I know I'm right...I have a feeling! Al please?" Trying to get the pink haired man to lskten, Seth grabbed his arm. Alphonse sighed and looked at him, then opened his mouth.

"Okay fine. If and that's a big IF, he is some entity you don't know which one. Explain that." Huffing out, the candy man then watched as Seth flipped through pages. Freezing on one and showing Alohonse quickly pointing at it

"He's a vampire!" Exclaiming, Seth then read out what he reasurched. "That would explain how pale he is! Also the bite marks om his neck? Along with he fact he loves eating bloody stakes!" Rambling Seth grabbed Alphonse's arm and rushed out the house.

"Ow! Seth- Don't drag me that hard!" Pleading, Alphonse then sighed. "Do you really think he's a vampire?" Questioning the brunette, who nodded grabbing the stakes and garlic he had in case of this.

"I'm sure of it now! Why else would he want Boo all alone?!" Frustrated Seth chucked the things into Al's car and grabbed the keys. Alphonse hurried to follow after him, getting into the passenger seat.

With Boo, they greeted Jake the man gave a big smile. The baker couldn't help but look at his teeth...They looked kinda sharp? Fuck was Seth right? Looking around they rubbed their hands.

"So, Jake, we gonna go to the flower clearing? It looked so pretty in the pictures you showed me!" Delfecting for their sake Boo put their hands into their big hoodie pocket. Clenching their phone to tell themselves if something happens they have a way out.

"No, I wanted to take you to this one tree! It's really pretty. Some of the locals told me it's the oldest one in the forest." Smiling Jake then grabbed their arm and guided them there. Boo nodded along as he started talking about the forest, the floral and fauna in it.

With the boys they hurried and got to the forest, Alphonse grabbed the stakes and Seth got the garlic. Both ran into the forest looking for Boo, then they heard their scream. Adrenaline rushed through them as they kicked into full gear to get to their baker.

"What the fuck?! WHAT ARE YOU?!" Screaming Boo stepped back as tiny men got out of the human clothing. They all looked at Boo, with different emrionins but the biggest one was love.

"Where gnomes and we've been looking for our Monarch. We all decided when we first saw you...you were perfect!" The leader spoke, coming forward from the group of gnomes. The others made a noise of agreement and Boo blinked at him.

"You WHAT?" Boo in disbelief shouted again. Words wouldn't comprehend how mad they were, the man they thought was their friend did this to them?! The gnome ignored their words and continue his talking.

"We also wanted to marry you! I, as leader of the gnomes nominate myself. Your Majesty, I would do anything to make you happy!" The small man kneeled as much as he could? Before Boo, who stepped back again giving a disgusted look.

"What?! You pretended to be my friend to trick me-" Growling out, Boo glared at the small group of men. But their angry words were interrupted by their boys finally appearing

"Boo, don't worry were here to-"

"Sugar, we'll kill the vampire-"

Both men paused seeing a group of gnomes, both blinking before turning to Boo. Who looked at the gnome leader and punt kicking him in the face.

"RUN!" Shouting Boo grabbed the boys arms and booked it to the car. Behind them the gnomes shouted in anger. The leader, after getting back from being punted, shouted out.

"FORMATIONS!" Comanding the gnomes all formed a big gnome. Alphonse, seeing this started cussing and Seth was opening his journal to try to see if something would help. Boo though grabbed a rock from the floor and chucked it at them.

"FUCK YOU!" Shrieking angrily, Boo then was yanked by Alphonse. All three could see the opening of the forest, but only one of the cars were there.

"Holy shit they took Boo's car?!" Shouting Alphonse was confused. Since they saw it like a minute ago when pulling up. The other two ignored this and looked a the forest, Seth holding the stake.

"Fuck why didn't I bring a long range weapon! Come on Seth you KNOW better!" Scolding himself, Seth heard rumbling and turned to Alphone. "AL OPEN THE CAR!"

"I'M TRYING?! FUCK I THINK THE DOORS JAMED?? WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT SLAMMING THE DOORS??" Shouting at the brunette, who cursed and went to the driver's side. Both men hitting the door, Boo hearing the rumbling getting closer looked to the ground and hissed.

"SORRY AL! ILL PAY FOR THE REPAIRS!" Grabbing a rock Boo smashed the driver's window. Unlocking the car and all three rushed to get in.

"SETH HOW THE FUCK DO WE DEFEAT THEM?" Asking as the punk swerved as the gnomes huge formation thing chucked big rocks on the road. Seth, flipped through the journal and groaned as he didn't figure out a way to defeat them.

"I don't know?! Maybe if we somehow take out the leader?" Questioning Seth let out a shout as a huge bolder appeared in front of them.

"HOLY SHIT-" Screaming Boo held onto the backseat the best they could. They've been getting thrown around back there during this car chase. Looking in the back car window, they shouted again. "THEIR THROWING ANOTHER!"

"FUCK HOLD ON!" Alphonse went faster and hit a hard right turn. Shooting down the main road to the town, Seth was cursing as he dropped the journal.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck??" Mumbling to himself, Boo behind him sighed as they got to the house. Getting out Alphonse tried running inside to get the gun, cursing himself for not keeping it in the car.

"ENOUGH." A booming voice was heard. All three froze seeing the huge figure of a gnome infront of them. Boo was covered by their boys are they glared at the gnomes.

"Fuck you! Ya ain't getting Boo!" Growling out Alphonse stood in front of all three of them. Seth was still going through he journal, getting more panicked not finding anything that could help.

But Boo sighed, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "I'll marry you." Whispering sadly, the leader blinked a them. Smiling he clapped as he slowly came down.

"Boo? No don't-" Pleading Al looked at Seth, who shook his head. They had no weapons and the gnomes had the upper hand. Boo moved around their boys and looked at the gnome leader.

"If I marry you, you leave them alone." Demanding, Boo looked down as the gnomes nodded and kneeled. Showing off a beautiful ring, lifting it up to them.

"Of course your Majesty! Anything you want as long as you marry all of us!" This detail was new, Boo cursed him out in their mind and nodded. The gnomes made happy noises as they cheered finally eating a Monarch.

"Fine. I guess a kiss seals the deal?" Questioning, this made the gnome leader flush and fix himself a bit.

"O-Of course!" Stuttering slightly, the leader sprits his mouth and pucker a his lips. Boo gave a disgusted look and crouched down. Hands behind their back, that's when the boys noticed what they were holding.

"SIKE BITCH!" Screaming, Boo turned the leaf blower on and sucked the leader into it. All the gnomes shouted as their leader was captured, breaking apart the huge gnome form.

Boo glared at them all as they tried to figure out what to do. Alphonse laughed as he joined them on their left, Seth following on the right.

"You really thought that would work? Please, my partner already has me. Along with Seth!" Smuggly saying, the pastel punk laughed as the gnomes cowered with fear.

"Seriously you tried to take a person by force that isn't okay. Like at all." Scolding Seth glared at them. Boo then shook the leaf blower, the screams of the leader could be heard.

"NOW, LISTEN UP." Shouting Boo growled at them all. "I'm not marrying ANY of you! Your gonna take your tiny asses BACK INTO THAT FOREST! And if you EVER come back I'm putting you in this leaf blower! And then KILLING YOU!" Adding on, Boo smirked as they all nodded at them.

Turning the leaf blower back on, the leader got shot out. Falling all tattered in front of his group, glaring at the trio.

"Fine! You'd be a horrible Monarch anyways!" Screaming defeated, the gnomes formed again and ran to the forest. The trio then sighed as they finally relaxed again.

"Jesus fuck. Seth, please remind me to listen to you whee you say someones an entity or supernatural." Whispering Alphonse leaned on Boo. Who patted his back and gave Seth a sorry look.

"I should have listened. I was just so haply to have a friend I didn't see the signs. I'm sorry Seth." Whispering the apology, Boo got a hug from the brunette.

"I'm just glad you didn't get take Boo. Now let's go inside and take a nap that was....too much for today." Suggesting, Seth got noises of agreement. All slowly got into the house before Alphonse said something.

"My car window....my poor baby...." Mumbling out sadly. Boo then perked up, giving him kisses and they spewed more apologies about that.

[endiness]

therica and myanna talking about the rest of the cast

“We have some fun facts,” MyAnna giggled. “Cassie Clare is a phenomenal singer and dancer,” Therica pitched in. “Behind the scenes, she would be teaching people dance steps and moves - which was great fun.” MyAnna followed up with: “The Aretuza lot are the most fun – but I may be biased. There's always great banter, and there's always great care shown between everyone.” Anna Shaffer has the “most incredible singing voice” according to the two, with MyAnna taking a moment to gush over her style as well. “She'll rock up to work and you'll just be like: ‘How do you look like that?’ These outfits that she just throws together, she just chucks the clothes on and she looks like something that's fallen out of Vogue.” Buring continues on to compliment Safiyya Inger, who plays Keira Metz, saying: “if you ever want anyone to teach you any lightsabre movements, you go to them.” According to Therica: “Mahesh (Jadu) is honestly like a man of like the earth and everything spiritual. He's got the most calming presence. I remember in season one he gave me this special piece of wood that is meant to cleanse your space and your aura. You have an ailment; you go to Mahesh basically.” Adding a few more comments before admitting there’s too many facts to share, MyAnna hurriedly commented: “And Lars Mikkelsen!! Behind the scenes he’ll walk around learning passages from Hamlet - he's that cool. Mimi (Ndiweni) has the best humour. Eamon Farren is sunshine. He's like born incarnate sunshine. I mean, we can go on.”

[dcangel]

hi hi! i saw that u were asking for reqs and prompt 29 rlly had me thinking… imagine you’ve been there for 2 years and are the only girl, and you don’t socialize much, you do your part and keep to yourself so no one knows much abt you. but when thomas shows up, he continues to bug you with questions/bother you including why ur the only girl there. there’s a lot of tension and one night he wonders off in the woods he finds you and one thing leads to another and it happens..!

AHH okay this is sending me to hell bc my mind is going feral just thinking about it and I literally am so excited to write this one. And thank you so much for requesting one <333 (this is my first time writing smut so bear with me)

Idk how to tag these correctly bc I’ve never posted anything but if I’m wrong just correct me: p in v, slight fingering, praising, degrading, dirty talk, mentions of edging, mentions of getting caught, choking kink, slight size kink, slight/moderate pain kink, oral sex!f receiving, a few uses of y/n, nicknames, 2nd person pov. Majorly unedited and not proofread (grammarly told me there were 149 errors but it’s 2:24 in the morning so grammarly can kindly fuck off. hopefully this is bearable to read.)

8238 words (what thee actual fuck)

29– Thomas

“Don’t muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I’m fucking you.”

The last few days were… something else. Like clockwork every month, another greenie arrived, but to you that just meant another person bugging the shit out of you until they got over it. What were you supposed to tell them? That you just felt like coming up into the maze and trapping yourself here for two years just because you were bored? Every single greenie, without fail, always pestered you like a small gnat swirling around your ear each day; “why are you the only girl? Why are you here? Is it hard being the only girl?” And of course the alarmingly obviously questions that crossed every new shank’s mind, but only few braved to ask.

You mostly managed to steer clear of the lewd obscenities, letting the few friends you made take care of it for you since it got to be an irritable subject for you very quickly. But, unfortunately, there were some that wanted to ask the girl herself. Some that didn’t even know your name, yet still approached you with a supercilious guise thinking that it would somehow win you over. Each time it made you wonder what they put in these new greenies before sending them up; they just kept getting worse and worse.

Majority of the gladers knew your name, but then again how could they not? Some knew it but just decided to call you whatever you wanted; as if you being a girl made you less human and more of an object. Those were the boys that could only dream of touching a girl, never mind even being able to hookup with one.

You were surprised by the amount of people that actually treated you as equal, even though it was the bare fucking minimum. Sometimes you found it ironic how Chuck—the youngest glader here—didn’t even think twice about your humanity status when half the so-called “men” in this place treated you like scut. The boy having stated many times that “you’re a human too, just like the rest of us. We each play our part and at the end of the day; work is work. It doesn’t matter how old you are or if you’re a guy or a girl.” You think one of the reasons you were such good friends with the boy was because he could easily relate to your struggles; him being the youngest glader and always treated like a baby who couldn’t comprehend the simplest things, and you being the only girl who’s treated like shit because apparently women can’t possibly be able to do the same things as men. You were both deeply misunderstood, and that served as a foundation for one of your closest relationships.

Of course the leader, Alby, had always said the same; you were to be treated as equal. He’d even brought up the fact that it was dispiriting that the matter was even a question at all. Some days were worse than others, only granting you the energy to will yourself out of the small hut Gally and few others helped you build, at the last possible second and skipping breakfast as you trudged your way over to the gardens, taking your place by Newt. From there, maybe you’d have an occasional conversation about the dirt that constantly flung into your eyes, automatically irritating both your sight and your mood, or maybe about how brutally the blazing sun treated your reddening shoulders and face.

But on those days—the bad ones—you kept silent, doing what you were told when you were told, taking part in the roles that made the glade work. Maybe you’d join the rest of the glade for supper, sitting with the very few people you called ‘friends’ but at the end of the table, hoping to avoid conversation that inevitably reeled you in. More often than not, bad days usually warranted you to take the meal to your hut after a quick ‘thanks’ to Frypan, then making the isolated trip to the comforting confines of your own space.

You tried keeping to yourself, afraid to get too close with anyone that wasn’t Chuck or Newt, but of course your name was brought up quite often. It never made sense, though; you rarely interacted with anyone, even the people you exchanged words with on occasion, not much was known about you. You even tried to avoid being seen as often as possible in hopes that your absence would somehow make the gladers forget about your existence.

Yet every month when a new greenie was sent up, terrified and questioning their entire existence, it also started a new uproar around your name. So with Thomas, it was no different. Well, almost no different.

After he showed up, he wasn’t subtle with his intentions like most were—always asking anyone he could about anything that might make you more 3-dimensional in his eyes. So when he saw you talking to Chuck and ruffling the young boy’s hair, he used their already-forming bond to his advantage.

“Hey, Chuck, who was that?” He pretended to be oblivious as if he hadn’t been staring at you all day every day, the way your hair was always tied back in a single low braid, how the small strands that were too short slipped from the crossed-pattern and framed your face, how your sun-kissed nose scrunched whenever some minor inconvenience passed your way or the way your head tilted ever-so-slightly as a way to show your confusion.

He was well aware that this most certainly happened with every new arrival; the pestering questions, the intrusive thoughts, yet he was infatuated with wanting to know absolutely everything he could.

“Who? Her?” Chuck followed the older boy’s gaze, quickly losing interest once he saw where it led.

Thomas’s gaze, however, didn’t falter. He couldn’t decide what part of you to focus on. Maybe the way you effortlessly carried buckets and buckets of whatever the hell was needed for gardening, but it looked heavy enough to make him stare in awe. He was shameless. “Yes her. Who is she?”

“A person.” Chuck answered, being frustratingly vague.

Thomas finally pulled his brown eyes from you, landing them on the smaller boy beside him. “What’s her name?”

“Why does it matter?” The young boy was all too familiar with the questions of each newbie, most greenies coming to Chuck for the same thing each month that became almost a routine to give out as little information as possible to protect his friend.

Thomas sighed, mentally rolling his eyes. “Because I wanna’ know.” He answered bluntly.

“You wouldn’t care what that guy’s name is,” Chuck pointed to a builder named Dan. “So why do you care what her name is?”

The greenie squinted his eyes, jaw clenched in slight irritation, the veins on his neck becoming more prominent than before. “Because I just want to know?”

“Y/N, her name is Y/N. There.” Chuck’s bitter tone was definitely a eye-opener, the boy usually sweet and happy to make new friends.

“Thanks.” Thomas managed to get a small thumbs up in return as Chuck walked further away, obviously done with their conversation.

. . .

The next few days left Thomas’s curiosity at a higher peak, even worse than when he first got here—before he knew about the girl. Luckily Chuck had told you each time the greenie asked another question, and you couldn’t express how grateful you were for the young boy since he never answered them.

However, despite Chuck’s anguished attempts at telling Thomas to leave you alone, the greenie pursued his interests in getting to know you more, although it was nearly inevitable that this would happen.

On this particular day, though, he couldn’t seem to find you. Much to his dismay, you were in the Deadheads, sitting by the small brook that always seemed to flow despite the enclosed glade. It was night, the sun long gone although the heat never seemed to leave. You liked the Deadheads, specifically the brook. It was quiet, nothing but the sounds of water trickling over small rocks and folding in on itself, and maybe the occasional leaf falling to the forest floor. The peaceful sounds were a drastic difference to the clanking of shovels on rocks that seemed to peeve each gardener, or tools hammering wood that echoed across the entire open glade.

It was rare, but sometimes you’d accidentally fall asleep in the woods due to the calming nature, serving for an aching back and sore neck that shot pain thorough your whole body when you craned it the wrong way. It would’ve been one of those nights, except the sounds of leaves crunching and twigs snapping under someone’s foot brought you back from your half-asleep state. You sat up against the tree, your legs crossing as you looked around. The only people who knew you came out here were sure to be asleep by now, Chuck always falling asleep the second the second he laid down on his hammock, and Newt knowing you didn’t like to be bothered out here.

You thought back to when Ben had been stung and was chasing Thomas through the Deadheads, and you thought the same was about to happen to you. Grabbing a small stick by your side— that would probably snap if any pressure were applied— you stood up and looked around the dark forest. The plush foliage provided little to no light, which left your eyes desperately trying to adjust to the darkness as quickly as possible.

You held the stick out in front of you and slowly backed up, occasionally spinning around to check behind you, the stick swinging through the air like it was wielded by a maniac.

The lack of light confused your senses, and somehow you didn’t you didn’t hear the cracking and snapping of leave and twigs, or feet the heat behind you getting closer and closer until your back slammed into something that scared you so bad you almost yelped as you whipped around to threaten whoever it was with the flimsy stick that almost snapped when you turned. You were greeted with an unfamiliar face, one that wasn’t just another in the sixty something faces in the glade that you had yet to learn the name of. It was a new one.

“Shit— sorry.” He muttered quickly, large, outstretched hands already on your shoulders to steady you.

You back up slightly, hoping his grip would fall off, and it did. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The boy automatically took to fiddling with his fingers, a nervous habit you guessed. “I, uh… I was looking for you, actually. Chuck told me you might be out here.”

You squinted your eyes slightly, not believing him since Chuck knew better than to tell a random greenie where you’d most likely be during your free time. “Did he?”

The greenie struggled to come up with an excuse, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the ground.

“Or did you just watch me come out here earlier with the plans of following me, hoping I’d still be here after you were done with your job?” You added with a raised brow, a clear annoyed tone evident in your voice.

“Wel— No that’s not— I mean… well, you’re probably used to the newbies bothering you—”

“Damn right I am. And I don’t expect you to be any different, so unless you have anything important to say, then I’m just gonna leave.” You got straight to the point, not caring to sugarcoat or be nice to him since you’d tried that before with other greenies, and it usually didn’t turn out well. You dropped your stick and started to turn away from him when you heard his footsteps following you again, his voice following soon after.

“Well, no, but I just wanted to talk to you. I don’t know you v—”

“So let’s keep it that way, yeah?” You said, sounding as if you were talking to a child.

He clenched and unclenched his fist, a small habit of his. “Could you just stop cutting me off?”

“Why should I?” You said, brown raised in annoyance as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one leg.

“Because I fucking asked? It shouldn’t be that hard to be nice to someone.”

You scoffed, his attitude impressing you since it almost matched yours perfectly. You eyed him before opening your mouth to speak. “You’re right, it shouldn’t be. So why’re you making it so difficult then?” You asked, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, your head tilted coyly.

He let out a quick sigh, jaw clenching in irritation. “Because, all I did was try and talk to you and you’re being a bitch about it.”

Your head jerked back slightly, your eyebrows automatically raised with a taunting smile of disbelief creeping up. “You just can’t help it with the foul language can you?” You said with a laugh, one that seemed to get on his nerves even more. It was almost impressive how irritable he was. “Maybe you should try talking to directly instead of bugging my friends—especially Chuck— about me. Y’know, like a conversation or something? Maybe start off with a small introduction like your name or something a little less hostile.”

“Fine, I’m—”

“I know who you are.” It wasn’t intentional but you realized that you had cut him off again. But instead of apologizing, you almost wanted to see how pissed he could get before stomping off.

He was definitely contemplating it, almost losing interest since your attitude made him want to smash his head against a rock, but his pure stubbornness was what kept him standing there. “Again with the cutting me off! Is that all you ever do? ‘S that why you don’t have any friends.”

Being the only girl in a glade full of boys made this seem like nothing compared what else you’ve heard, so his little insults and slight temper tantrum did nothing. “Well you said you wanted to talk to me, and I’m assuming you wanted to get to know me more since all you ever do is bother Chuck.” You said with a shrug. “Come on, you can do better than that, I know you can.”

Something about your tone, the way it was taunting him, teasing him in a way that he couldn’t tell if he should hate you or want to slam you against a tree and— he shook his head, seemingly getting rid of whatever was going through his mind. “Why, you want me to insult you? Treat you like a piece of shit like everyone else does?”

You didn’t respond. Rather, you just stood there, not bothering to move as he subtly took a few slow steps toward you.

“Or maybe it’s something else?” He said, head tilting in a certain way that allowed the small streaks of moonlight peering through the spaces above that weren’t covered by trees to illuminate the beginnings of smug look on his freckled face.

Of course you knew what he looked like, he was a gardener the first few days so you had the displeasure of working near him, but something about him being up close and the way the shadowy brightness of the moon cast a perfect gleam allowed you to really notice his features. You had to admit, he wasn’t a bad looking guy; short brown hair, a perfect nose that could make anyone jealous, pale skin littered with moles and freckles that didn’t seem to be on just his face, golden-brown eyes that looked darker than in the daylight, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the tree coverage or some other reason…

“I bet it’s something else, isn’t it?” His voice was what snapped you from your thoughts, your eyes focusing back in on his darkening gaze.

“Huh?” You said, your eyes practically in slits at this point. You couldn’t tell if your question was actually a question, or if it was because you’d already forgotten what he asked before.

He took a step closer, yet he wasn’t actually that close. It was simply the darkness of the Deadheads and the way your other senses tried to account for your poor vision that made it seem like he was towering over you.

Or maybe he was.

“I said, are you just always a bitch like this, or do you do it because you like the way people respond. The way they get irritated and go off on you or treat you like shit all for you to complain about it afterwards.” You almost couldn’t believe his words. But what was less believable was the feeling that resonated in the pit of your stomach. One that had you thinking things you shouldn’t be.

“What? What the hell is wrong with you?” You spat out, trying to act offended.

His smirk grew, telling you that you reacted exactly how he expected. “You didn’t answer my question.” He took another step forward.

“I don’t have to.” You stepped back.

He noticed your slight step back, he also noticed the tree behind you—he same one you’d almost fallen asleep against earlier—getting closer each time. “I think it’s only fair that you do, so, go ahead. Answer it.”

Now, there were two ways you could’ve answered this. Which one did you choose? The one you knew would get the better reaction, of course. “Make me.”

One step later, you were already back up against the tree, seemingly nowhere to go (you could easily step to the side), and Thomas right in front of you, head tilted downwards to look at you because of the height difference. “I don’t think you really want me to. You’re just saying that.”

“Oh yeah? Try me.” You whispered lazily, a small gleam in your eyes as you looked up at him.

He brown ones bored into yours, an almost-mischievous glint behind them. He leaned down, his mouth inches from your ear, his hand against the tree on the other side of your head. “Maybe I will.”

You couldn’t help the way your knees felt weak, something about his voice; the raspiness embedded in his low, deep tone. “Maybe you should.” You breathed out, watching him pull back, his eyes flicking between your eyes and somewhere else.

His other hand slid around your waist, large palm being a source of heat as if the night air wasn’t already warm enough. It was torturous, the way his lips ghosted around your skin, every area he passed felt empty after the heat of his presence left, the way you felt his breath brush her face when he laughed at his own teasing actions.

His hand slid around to your lower back, pulling it forward in an arch as your upper back stayed against the tree. Thomas looked down at you, the very tip of his nose so close to yours that the heat radiating from him felt like he was actually touching you. You bit the inside of your cheek, never good with the whole ‘patience’ thing.

Thomas, on the other hand, could’ve dragged this out all night. But when he met your gaze, the look in your eye let the thought slip from his mind. It was when you whispered some words that didn’t quite stick in his brain against his lips, that’s what got to him. He bent down and connected your lips, the kiss wasn’t a slow, savoring-every-moment type of kiss. It was a hungry, sloppy, impatient kiss that made it seem like he was devouring you.

It was needy and heated, more teeth-clashing and tongue-tangling than anything. His lips were chapped and rough, but then again so we’re yours after two years in the glade.

His lips trailed down your cheek, then your jaw, then right under your jawline, nipping at the surprisingly soft skin. His lips followed your jawline until they were right under your ear, finding a sweet spot you didn’t even know you had.

You breathed out softly, biting the inside of your cheek as your head tilted backwards, hitting the bumpy bark of the tree. To your left was his outstretched arm that he used to hold himself up against a the tree, and to your right was his head, slightly buried in the crook of your neck as he peppered the spot with little nips as kisses. He freehand—the one that was on your lower back—slipped down to the curve of your ass, squeezing all around the plump skin.

“How’s this for getting to know you?” He breathed against your skin.

You bit your lip, just a little, but enough that his scrutinizing gaze caught it. “I think you, uh, you should get to know me just a little better, y’know?” You said, a small lump in the back of your throat that wouldn’t go down.

“Hmm, think I should, huh?” He teased.

“Mhm, yeah… y-you should.” You nodded, teeth gliding over your own bottom lip as you tugged his hair gently so he’d look up at you.

The heel of Thomas’s palm dug into your ass, prompting you to jump up a little. To jump right into his arms. Your thigh hitched up on his waist, his hand gliding from your ass to under your leg, finger tips reach the the inside of your thigh. Your other foot steady on the ground— well, would’ve been steady if you hadn’t stepped on a tree stump. Your footing faltered, twisting your ankle in the process and you pulled from the recently rekindled kiss to wince.

He chuckled and lifted up your other thigh, practically holding you up until you got the hint to wrap your legs around his waist. Your back was pressed into the tree, bare shoulders are partially-bare upper back collecting scratches and green moss smudges.

Thomas didn’t waste anymore time, the fingers of his free hand already sliding down your torso and half under the waistband of your jeans. He only stopped for a brief moment, looking up at you as you nodded back—maybe a little too eagerly.

He didn’t even bother to unbutton them or unzip them for the time being, his fingers twitching with the thought of touching you in mind. While he was just as impatient as you, he still managed to find the will in him to tease you. Two of his veiny fingers swipes over your panties, starting at the beginning of your wetness and dragging them all the way up to your cloth-covered clit. You couldn’t deny nor hide it anymore, you were soaked—rather, your panties were.

“Damn, this all for me? Guess you liked the idea of me proving you wrong, huh?” He taunted.

Your eyes bore into his like you wanted to say something snarky, but you literally could not lie. He felt it. He felt what he did to you. He knew the slight power he had over you—although you were sure he didn’t quite know just how much power he possessed.

Reluctantly, you tenaciously nodded up at him, just a very slight head movement that you hoped he’d miss, but of course he didn’t. You were grateful he didn’t respond, with words anyway, but you could see see the glint in his eye that made you want to kick him, slap him, anything you could to get your point across. But he made you weak in the knees, figuratively and literally since one of his hands was under your ass holding you up, your legs raveled around his waist and connected at his lower back.

At first, when you felt his hand leave your ass, you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed by the loss of touch, or to expect your body to hit the ground. But it didn’t. He had you pinned against the tree, your legs already locked tightly around him, your arms slung around his neck.

His, now free, hand glides around to the front of your thigh, up your stomach (it would’ve gone under your shirt if he didn’t have other plans), over your tank top-covered breasts, fingers stopping momentarily to knead the dough-y flesh, and making their final stop around your throat just below your jaw—palm pressing against your airway loosely, pointer and thumb fingers settling below your ears on either side of your head.

The fingers caressing your sopping panties also became more active; drawing slow lines up and down.

“T-Thomas,” you stuttered, not because he hand was that tight, but simply because it was tight enough to warrant a gasp present in your words. “Don’t tease me.”

You were really in no position to be the one saying commands, but it was the sheer stubborn-confidence that impressed him enough to consider the choked out words. “As you wish.” He spoke, slipping two fingers past your panties, the material bunching to the side, and right into you without any warning. Well, to be fair he did give you a warning, just no time to process before you felt his long, slender fingers gliding against your walls.

“Fuck— Thomas.” You breathed out, your tone a little whiny. You were almost embarrassed at how easily you gave in, how easily you let him get you this way.

He gave your throat one last little squeeze and dropped his hand down to one of the straps on your tank top. He was considering sliding it under your shirt, but then he’d have to go through more trouble to get it off seeing as you were leaned against a tree. So, Thomas decided to take what he knew you’d give, and he tugged at the straps.

You knew your standards were low when consent made your heart swoon, feeling the nervous hot-and-cold sweats rack your body. But being the only girl in the glade, you were glad someone other than your friends was showing you respect…ish.

After seeing your nod, he slid the strap down and you pulled your arm back and through the thing fabric piece, the same was done on the other side. Thomas’s fingers were barely moving, too slow even for his teasing pace, but his brain had a little more focus on what he was trying to do with one hand.

A few seconds later, and you were gasping at the sudden coldness you felt against your pert nipples. It was an odd sensation, the glade was always hot yet when your bare chest was exposed, the air felt cool.

The chilled breeze caused the buds to instantly harden, making something of Thomas’s harden as well. “Shit, angel, no bra?”

You hadn’t worn a bra since today was one of those days— the ones with low energy, restless sleep barely giving you enough stamina to will yourself throughout the day. “No…” you admitted, almost shamefully.

Before you could even think, lips were wrapped around the sensitive buds, a tongue flat as it pressed over the top. You let out a noise somewhere between a whimper and a small moan, finger tangling in his hair automatically.

Thomas simply couldn’t leave your other side untreated, so he rolled your other nipple between his fingers while fucking you with the other hand. Every sound you made, whether it be a sigh, a moan, a whimper, a small whine of his name, each and every one of them seemed to be egging him on more. Like small pleas and begs for more of his touch.

And whether you knew it or not, that exactly what they were; your body whining, aching for anything he’d give you, grateful for the plainest stroke of his digits in your wet cunt, or the effortless drag of his smooth tongue across your pebbled nipple.

Somewhere between small praises and straight-up degradation, you manages you end up without any clothes and Thomas’s pretty face between your legs as you stand there against the tree; teeth clenched, thighs trembling, fingers scratching at his scalp leaving a stinging sensation in their wake. It felt good— the burn of your jagged nails against his already sensitive scalp, the sun un-ironically taking part in making sure it would hurt him.

The tree bark dug into your bare back as you simultaneously pushed yourself up on your tip-toes, squirming at the sensation of his tongue on your clit becoming too much, yet tugging his face further between your wobbly thighs with the grip you had on his brown hair.

Thomas decided he liked you best when you were like this; a sweaty, moaning, whimpering, indecisive mess for him— despite only speaking his first words to you less than an hour ago.

And quite frankly, you couldn’t care less. The only thing spurring you on, giving you the shamelessness needed to give yourself up like this was the undying need to cum. He had be fucking edging you this whole damn time, yet you couldn’t complain. Not while he was pleasuring you at least. Your protests came after you didn’t—after the way he’d suck on and swirl his tongue around your swollen bud, getting you right there, only to pull away as you were about to topple over the edge.

It might not have been verbal, but maybe you’d give his hair a particularly harsh yank, or dig your nails into his raw scalp with as much strength as you could muster. Unbeknownst to you, Thomas enjoyed it. He loved the way you whined and squirmed, body begging for a release even if your mouth was too stubborn to communicate it. He loved the pain you inflicted on him, the pricking sensation hurting so bad—yet not enough—that it felt good.

“Did I get you to change your mind yet, Angel?” Thomas spoke against your cunt, lips glistening with you juices, eyes dark as he looked up at you with a captivating stare that you fell prisoner to time and time again.

You bit down on your lip brutally, the discomfort not even phasing you anymore. You were sure your lips would be bruised and possibly bloodied in the morning for more than one reason. “Thomas… please,” There it was. The first real plead that spilled from your lips. Not the desperate whines or frustrated grunts you’d given him earlier, but an actual word that put your need on full display.

And it sounded better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“What’s wrong, princess? Am I not good enough for you?” He cooed, tone mocking your desire so damn condescendingly that if it were anyone else you’d send their skull flying against the maze walls.

But you couldn’t resist, he had you under his spell, wrapped around his finger. And you knew it. You both knew it. “Fuck me, make me cum… just do something for fucks sake!” Your voice held a guise of irritation and rage, but just behind that was the exact whininess that he was looking for.

“I think I like the sound of you begging for me. It’s pretty.” He whispered, whether to himself or you, you couldn’t find it in you to give a fuck anymore.

Thomas stood up, large hands sliding up the sides of your bare body, soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. A whimper slipped from your swollen lips, the feeling of his hands setting your body ablaze, leaving goosebumps only the chilly day’s managed to give you in their wake. You felt like you were sweating buckets, yet the warmth radiating off his wide hands (or maybe you were just small) left the rest of your figure feeling frigid.

His lips wet lips met yours, hand meeting your throat as you gasped lightly at the taste of yourself on his tongue as he poked and prodded at your own. You didn’t even have to think about how easily you let him in, you blatantly followed his command no matter what form in came in without a second thought.

Fingers feeling needy, you reached for his belt and he slotted his knee between your thighs, pinning you against the tree for the umpteenth time tonight. However, you didn’t hear a protest or receive a firm look coded with a not-so-hidden message, so you proceeded with your actions, fingers fumbling with the flimsy metal piece until you hear the telltale clanking sound of his belt slithering through the denim loops and clashing against the dirt floor.

His jeans dropped next, nothing to hold them up or keep them in their place as you unzipped them. His shirt had been discarded earlier, just before he got to his knees in front of you, so it was one less article of clothing in your way.

But that didn’t matter, the only one you care about was still on him. Dainty fingers lightly brushed over his bulge, your eyes dropping for just a second to catch a glimpse of his clothed size before you had to tilt your head back up due to the hand holding your throat. It was dark, but your eyes were well adjusted by now; well enough to see the tent his erection formed as you unintentionally teased him.

Your hands were impatient, your whole being was impatient, but you could at least do something about the need to have your hands around him. After practically grabbing his hard-on through his boxers, palming it roughly for just a second, you didn’t even wait to get your hands inside his boxers. Immediately, you tugged your hand up his length, his impressively long length. He groaned, cock already throbbing, twitching at the thought of being buried inside you.

The noise almost took you by surprise, and you were almost proud of yourself for being the cause. You brought your left knee up his thigh, situating it comfortably in the groove of his hip, and pushed down the remaining fabric. His free hand assisted you and helped slide the other end down until he kicked away the item that he’d be searching for in the darkness later.

Digits finding his hardness again as you continued to make out, your thumb carelessly swiped over his slit as you handled his tip, collecting the bead of precum that had you wetter than the brook you were settled by during previous hours. He felt the heat of your fingers disappear, only to return moments later with arousal that couldn’t’ e been just his.

You coated his shaft with your sticky mixture, eliciting a deep groan from the back of Thomas’s throat. Regardless of you having the last few touches that made gave other pleasure, he still wanted to remind you who was really in control.

His fingers tightened around the column of your throat, his body pressing you into the tree even more, hard enough for you to feel each ridge of wood jabbing into your back. You felt his knee pushing up against your cunt, your slick automatically coating his thigh as you couldn’t help but grind yourself against him. He smirked—you didn’t see—, your actions appearing needy, so much so, that they were almost pathetic.

“It’s hot as fuck knowing I made you this wet, that I got you to the point where you don’t give a fuck about how pathetic you seem, the only thought in your brain is the desire for pleasure. For me to fuck you, huh?” His words were spat with hot breath waving against your cheek, it was hard not to give in and accept his words.

“Please, Tommy… need you inside me,” until the words came out, you weren’t aware of how shameless they’d be, of how much you sounded exactly like he described. “‘nd I know you do too.” you added shortly after in an attempt to recollect some of your dignity. Didn’t work. He saw right through you.

But what did work what the whine you put on his name, the one that few called him, but only you could have him contemplating between fucking you like a normal person, or fucking you for so long and hard that neither of you could walk straight or have any cum left to give. Obviously there was only one choice in his eyes, but you couldn’t see it. You could only see blown pupils, so wide that just a sliver of brown, lust-tainted color rimmed the pitch-black darkness.

You resumed the position you were in earlier; legs squeezed tight around his waist as if your life depended on it, ankles locked in the back, heels digging into his spine a few inches above his tailbone. Your arms wrapped around the nape of his neck, while his hand was settled at the base of yours.

Striving to be a tease, Thomas watched your reactions while he rubbed his tip up and down your wetness, starting from your hole, up to the top of your clit, then back down. Something about the moves, so calculated, so precious, so damn taunting that it almost seemed like he was mocking you, it was all becoming too much. He had been edging you all night—well, enough to to feel like it was all night—that you knew he was nearing the end of his limits as well.

Impatient by nature, Thomas merely gave your throat a warning squeeze before he slipped his tip inside. He may have been ruthless with his teasing, yes, but he wasn’t heartless. He waited, kept his hips still against his own will until you nodded or squeezed his hair each time you wanted him to push in just a smidge further. He praised and affirmed you with words you didn’t even process since the only thing your mind could focus on was the contrast of pleasure with a little bit of sting. You wanted nothing more for him to be fully sheathed inside you, fucking your stupid—and so did he—, but you decided it best for you to take it slow. At first.

Once his hips were flush with yours, hard cock filling you in ways you didn’t even know existed, you adjusted your legs around his waist, shifting until the discomfort went away mostly. You didn’t even nod or give and indignation before you bucked your hips against his, causing a sigh to fall from his pink, kiss-bitten lips, while a light moan fell from yours. He took that as his sign you were ready, and he slowly pulled his hips from yours with a semi-gentle test thrust first before he saw you were okay, then he picked up his pace in a matter of seconds.

“Fuck, angel, you’re so tight.” He groaned against your neck, hot breath symbolizing a warning before his lips were all over the soft skin.

You whimpered, your hands automatically lacing in his hair and tugging at the roots, nails occasionally scratching at his scalp. You don’t know how long your hand stayed like that before realizing you needed something better to grasp, to hold on and cling to like your fate was dependent on it.

One are tucked under his, the other following suit, and soon both hands were clawing down his back, the feeling prompting Thomas to pound away harder. Teeth against your neck let you know that you’d have to wear your hair down for the next few days, and possibly skip meals at the homestead to avoid being seen as well. Even so, you didn’t care right now. You were to wrapped up in the way his fucked into you, mercilessly pounding away at you pussy, the wet squelching sounds coming from where the two of you were connected absolutely sinful.

You knew the gladers had gone to sleep however long ago, but you also knew that a few had a hard time sleeping. Thank god Chuck had knocked out before you came out here.

The threat of getting caught is what caused you to bury your face in his shoulder, head leaning against his outstretched arm that was holding the tree for support. You nips and suck at the skin of his collarbone right where it connects to his shoulder, albeit much weaker and definitely less effort put in than him, but it gives you something to do, along with practically gouging your uneven nails down his sweaty back, to keep your mind off the seething moans that threaten to rip from your throat.

After awhile of hearing you go silent and feeling the pressure of both your lips and fingers on his skin increase, Thomas grows annoyed with your lack of sound. You feel his hand leave your throat, but you don’t exactly process it, your brain overwhelmed with too many things to worry about the loss of touch, but you do feel where it ends up. Your head is abruptly yanked back, yet somehow as gently as possible although is still leaves a pained sensation. Thomas’s fingers were in between the weaves of your—now very loose and incredibly messy—braid, forcing you to look at him as he fucks you. He seemed to know exactly what you were thinking.

“Don't muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I'm fucking you.” Without a barrier to block your noises, you let out a moan at his words alone. And then everything comes crashing down. You give up on trying to quiet yourself, only having enough left in you to chase that feeling that leaves you whining incoherent words that maybe he understands, digging and clawing at any available surface you can get you dainty little fingers on (which is most likely his back or shoulder), and letting yourself go completely—letting him take care of you.

And boy does he know how to take care of you. For someone you’ve never spoken a word to until tonight, he knows how to fuck you right. He knows how to have you in his arms, body practically limp and a deadweight which only impales you more on his dick. And when he hears that you’ve given in to more than just his one request by letting your jaw fall slack, any moans or whimpers just free to waltz out, he leans in close to whisper in your ear, voice deep and slightly raspy; “Good girl.”

He feels the way your fingernails grips his shoulders harder, possibly hard enough to draw blood, and the way your already-tight walls clench around him even more. Something in his mind clicks for him that doesn’t for you, probably because your too busy with the way he fills you up so damn well his tip kisses your cervix each time you come back down on him and he fucks back up.

“You like being called a good girl, huh? You like being told how good you feel around me, being praised for doing what I say like the good girl you are?” He knows what he’s doing at this point. But that was stop you from enjoying it nonetheless.

“F—yeah, fuck, I do.” You agree with what little sanity to have left, mustering a nod that almost spends every ounce of energy.

Your eyes have him in a trance; watery, pupils blown, looking up at him with the most innocent looking eyes he could ever think of. Except he knew you weren’t innocent.

“I bet no one else fucks you like this, huh, angel? No one else gives you princess treatment because they’re too busy trying to find a way to get in your panties to even think about treating you right. But a part of you likes it, don’t you?” You merely whined, words failing you as he smirked and kept going. “You like the fact that half the guys here probably jerk off to the thought of you when they’re alone, think of you as some little slut that everyone gets a turn with in their minds. The glade’s own whore, hmm?”

“F-Fuck, Thomas,” you whimper, the feeling his words give you turning into physical pleasure, not just for yourself, but for Thomas as well when he feels your warm walls squeezing around his shaft.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it; just whoring out and fucking every guy in this place? But your so damn innocent—too damn innocent, it’s why half the guys here can’t seem to get their mind off you.” He grunts between thrusts, as if his hips slamming into yours punctuates each word. “Don’t worry, after tonight I think enough people around here will have learned who got to fuck you. I’ll treat you right, princess.”

Both hands clenched at whatever they can, and Thomas feels the crescent-shaped nail marks already imbedding themselves in his shoulder and nose of his neck.

You were getting undeniably closer, and you were afraid that he might edge you again. Hell, you were afraid that you let him have that much power over you. In spite of your efforts, your own voice adding to the ringing in your ears as you bucked your hips downwards— if even possible with the force he had you pressed against the tree with. “Don’t stop… please, please don’t stop, Tommy.” You begged, pathetically desperate for him to finally let you release.

“Only if you keep making those pretty little sounds, angel.” And you did; effortlessly obeying his commands, when in reality it was inevitable that your sounds escaped at some point. You just didn’t hold back at all. At least you didn’t talk to very many people, otherwise they would’ve been suspicious of your barely-there voice if the hadn’t already heard you screaming the night before.

His thrusts became irregular, and at first you thought he was going to tell you that you didn’t do well enough for him, seize yet another orgasm from you like he had been doing all night. What you didn’t realize was that he was slowing down to edge himself, not wanting to cum to early or before you did.

Thomas decided you wouldn’t mind a few scratches on your back, maybe a few splinters, ‘cause it sure as hell looked like you wouldn’t give a damn right now, so he took his supporting hand off the tree and encased it around your throat, admiring the way his hand seemed to swallow you whole. His free hand fled to your clit, rubbing circles against the sensitive bud as you cried out his name. It was mindless, you hadn’t even realized it. That’s what made it so fucking hot.

Time and time again, you continued to impress him with how easily you could be controlled, completely fucked out to the point you only knew his name and the word ‘please’. “Atta girl. That’s right, let everyone know who’s fucking you like this.” You whimpered his name again, the word simply rolling off your tongue without a thought. He wasn’t even sure if you said it because you followed orders so well, or if it was really the only thing you could say.

“T-Thomas, shit—fuck, I’m g—” your sentence was left unfinished since you couldn’t breathe, your lungs on fire just like the rest of your skin. It could’ve been from the way Thomas’s hand was unconsciously restricting your airway a little too much, though, once he noticed he eased up. Either way, he got your message loud and clear. And he could feel his own release brewing in the pit of his stomach.

“Please… please don’t stop this time. I-I can’t take it anymore… need to cum.” You whined between shallow breaths before he could even speak.

His pace and force picked up to almost inhuman speeds, basically fucking you into the tree behind you. “I won’t, I promise.”

As if the words didn’t register, mindless pleas were pouring from you, “I have to—’m so close, Tommy, please.”

“I know, baby, I know. Me too, alright? So your gonna be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” It wasn’t until his thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves he was previously circling, did his words finally sink in.

Along with his gentle demand came your orgasm that you didn’t know had been so close the whole time. Your walls enveloped him so tight he was sure his dick would slip out, but it didn’t. It stayed inside your warm, velvety wetness, twitching but thrusting sloppily throughout your high as his neared.

You were seeing stars, and you were pretty sure they weren’t the ones in the night sky above you. Your nails dug so harshly into his chest and back that your fingers aches, and you could only imagine the number you’d done on him. The feeling was euphoric, sure you’d never come down from the drunken-high feeling. Your thighs shook, muscles spasming as your nerves felt like they were frying at the slight overstimulation he was giving you.

Feeling you cum around him, his cock twitched inside you, soon giving into the demands of your velvety warmth and wet squelching sounds. “Fuck, shit—such a good girl, angel… such a good fucking girl for me.” He moaned out, his voice the softest it’d been yet, but still somehow possessing the same roughness as before.

You felt a hot-warmth gush inside you, your face already buried deep in his shoulder again as you physically could not keep your head up. “Just for you.” You whimpered, enjoying the feeling of being completely filled to the brim, his hand coming off your throat to slide around the back of your neck in a somewhat-comforting hold. The feeling of being taken care of.

[seat-safety-switch]

Great civilizations made their houses out of the things they had lying around. Clay for bricks. Snow for igloos. Glass for nudist colonies. With all the microplastics floating throughout the ether, why can't I make a house out of Bondo®?

Bondo has a lot of benefits: for one, it's easy to sculpt. It provides some decent insulative qualities. Animals can't peck holes in it and live inside, unlike my friend Sylvester Raccoon, who it turns out is actually a kind of wood-pecking bird. You can paint over it in any colour you like. Tools are widely available to sculpt it And, unlike the cars we use it on, it won't rust. In fact, there's really no reason we shouldn't be using it for all of our homes. I'm sort of a futurist, in my rad kind of bluey-white polyester resin home.

Of course, there is the cost issue. Buying just a little can of the stuff will now set you back approximately the GDP of New Mexico (Old Mexico is still somewhat more profitable.) I didn't let this stop me, though, and I knew that the local auto body shop would chuck it into the dumpster out back only a few weeks after its expiry date had passed. I also knew that zapping said Bondo in the microwave for a few minutes would make it pliable again. Sure, doing so also totals the microwave, but that's why Best Buy has a return policy.

Ultimately, the only real downside to the whole thing is the smell. Even when top-coated with the finest Rustoleum Shitbox Gray that I could find at the hardware store, a really hot day will make it smell like I just repaired some rust. And that makes me feel guilty about not having used all this body filler on any number of my sad, hole-filled cars. They can wait until I'm living in them, I figure, which might be any day now, if Sylvester finds his way to shorting out the breaker panel again.

[alltheyearsblog]

Snack

Can also be read here on ao3

————

The flop Leonardo does on the couch is a glorious one.

It’s the kind where your full body weight just comes down and you feel every muscle just melt, and the air expels out of your lungs fully before taking in a fresh breath in the new found comfort.

It was an odd Friday night where absolutely nothing was waging for his attention. Earlier in the week there had been some chaotic patrols with the Purple Dragons, but in an effort to try to evade the turtles they had accidentally moved into a section of New York that the Mutanimals had just freshly relocated to. Slash was more than happy to take this off the brothers’ plate as it allowed them to get in some much needed exercise while learning the new terrain of their home base. Things had otherwise been quiet in their neck of the woods so it seemed as good a time as any to call an evening off from general patrol. Which of course meant that Raph and Casey went out anyway, just to find ways to fulfill their own agenda, while Mikey (and by extension everybody else) was excitedly starting cooking lessons with Murakami san. Donnie had invited April over, but they would be staying in, but had suggested maybe the three of them could crash together on the couch and watch reruns of whatever show.

Which quite honestly, sounded perfect to Leo.

Don’s lab doors slide open, and he hops down towards the tv area with laptop in hand . As he passes Leo, he grabs one of the many pillows and chucks it at his brother, toothy smile erupting when Leo makes a satisfactory ooof sound.

“Don’t get too comfy, April is going to be here in a minute.”

Leo grunts at his brother. “April lived here for close to three months, I will get as comfy as I please.”

The response makes Donnie roll his eyes. “Uh huh, but we’re supposed to spend time together. At least say hi before you pass out.”

Leo whips the pillow back toward Don, who bats it down with ease and a smile before settling his laptop down. “Alright, Leonardo, I’m going to the kitchen to grab snacks and drinks, want anything in particular?”

The Blue turtle smiles appreciatively “Thanks Dee. I think MIkey grabbed some bags of popcorn on his last snack run, and I’ll take whatever soda is in the fridge.”

“I’ll take one too if the offer is going around!” April’s voice floats in. The brothers look up and see her hopping over the turnstiles. She glides with grace over the pit and slides in the space next to Leo.

“Your wish is my command, Miss O’Neil.” Donnie does a little flourish and a bow before heading off to the kitchen. Leo reaches over to the pile of blankets on the end of the couch, tossing one to April and grabbing one for himself. He asks her how her day was and by the time Donnie returns with the tray laden with the goods, she’s deep in tell Leo about how insufferable fraternity rush week has been and she’s kind of glad Casey decided to do trade school.

“Either he would get wrapped up in the whole process, or he would be causing so much chaos for them. Probably the later.” April groans. Don places the drinks and a large bowl of popcorn on the table before turning and handing a smaller bowl to Leo.

“Probably the latter.” Leo agrees, accepting the bowl from his brother. Donnie, in his tendency to pay attention to every detail, had already placed a spoon in the bowl. Leo hums his appreciation as he uses the utensil to stir the kernels of fluff around before scooping a bite up.

“Uh, Leo?”

Leo, in a rare instance of getting to enjoy being a teenager, unceremoniously shoves a large spoonful of popcorn in his mouth. “Yussh, Aphil?”

“Are…” The red-head pauses for just a moment, a smirk just pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Are you eating popcorn with a spoon?”

Leo shoves another spoonful in just to make it clear that he is, in fact, doing just that.

“Don’t knock it until you try it April,” Donnie settles in the space on the other side of his brother, his own popcorn bowl with spoon at the ready. “It really is quite a genius technique.”

A giggle slips out from April. “But isn’t the whole point of popcorn that it's finger food?”

Leo swallows his current bite. “Yes, technically you are right. But I don’t like how greasy it makes my fingers feel. Or dusty in this case.” He holds up the bowl with the cheddar dusted kernels. “So, a spoon makes perfect sense.”

“Popcorn is a grain,” Donnie offers up, “So you can technically consider it a cereal.”

Leo snorts at that, and April levels Donnie a look.

“Mikey came up with that?”

“Mikey came up with that.” The brothers agree in tandem.

April rubs at her eyes. “Please don’t tell me he ate a bowl of it with milk.”

“Actually,” Donatello swallows, “It’s worse than that.”

“What could possibly be worse?”

Leo pulls a face. “He used queso.”

There is a quiet beat before April’s face twists in disgust. “I’m actually sorry I asked.” A long suffering sigh comes from their sister where she sits on the couch. “So, this has always been something you’ve done?”

Leo shrugs a little as he uses the spoon to push the fluffy, popped grain around. “I guess so? Mikey loves the stuff, and everytime we sit down to watch a show or a movie he absolutely insists on having it. But I would pass on it, which made Mikey pout and Raph give me grief for being so fastidious.” Leo waves the spoon at April. “So, I compromised.”

“Huh.” April responses. She adjusts her blanket and nestles down further. “Hey, whatever works to maintain the peace.” She lets out another little giggle before picking up the remote. “So, guys, what are we watching?”

It takes a bit of heated argument over their favorites, but in the end they settle on Crognard. The perfect kind of mindless tv to fill their evening, which turns out to be exactly what Leo needed. There isn’t a concern in the world, just snacks and family and dumb barbarians. The kind of night where his mind can be shut off but his spirit warmed with blessing.

And if the next time they have a rerun night that has April eating her popcorn with a spoon of her own accord, he won’t say anything about it.

[redheadspark]

Hi! Can I request "pulling them on their lap" with oliver wood please? Thank you! 💗

A/N - YAS! I do like this for Oliver! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Rogue

Summary - Who knew a rogue bludger would bring two should closer together.

Warnings - Just some fluff :)

“Oi, Fred!  Watch where you launch that thing!”

“That’s what your mum said last night when I was—Oof!”

“Next time I’ll aim for ya head!”

Fred cackled chucking the thrown towel back at him as Oliver was walking away from him, tossing the towel back in his duffle bag on the bench.  Since it was a bright Winter morning, some of the first snow of the year already melted though a new storm was due to come through in the Scottish Highlands that night. Since it would mean a frozen Quidditch field that would take a week to thaw out, or deep into springtime.  Oliver wanted to take advantage, even with it being the off-season for Quidditch and Gryffindor already won the Quidditch Cup for the year. 

After convincing his team that they would have a light practice, mostly to stay sharp on their brooms and to basically unwind after coming back from the holidays.  He was glad his team wasn’t giving him pushback when it came to a light trading session, in fact, they are game for it.  Mostly because it was a good excuse to get out of studying for the spring session that had just begun.

“Hey!  You forgot your jumper, Angelina!”  Oliver’s attention was caught with the sound of your voice, seem-jogging up to the field with your roommate’s jumper in hand and flushness in your cheeks thanks to the cold. Oliver’s heart quickened, seeing you smile at him as you approached him and gave an awkward wave.  It was no surprise to his team that he had a crush on you, from some time actually when you were introduced at an afterparty from a recent Gryffindor Victory a year ago.  Angelina was your close friend, though you were more of a bookworm and barely touched a broom yourself.  But you loved the sport all the same, a big fan and supporter of your House team, and would come to every game to root for your roommate.  

“Oh, hey Oliver!  Sorry for disrupting practice, Angeline forgot her jumper and I know she practices in this one,” You explained, showing the worn Gryffindor Quidditch sweater within your fingers.  Oliver just jumped, seeing you bundled up in layers to brave the cold but you looked simply lovely.  Especially with fresh snowflakes in your long thick hair that was already in beautiful braids.  

“No worries, thanks for bringin’ it for her.  I know she forgets sometimes,” He admitted, though he heard boots crunching in the light snow and grass over to the pair of you, you both seeing it was Angelina walking over to you with her own grin.

“I heard that!” She lightly scolded Oliver, though she took the jumper from your hands gently, “Thanks!  Let’s get some candy at Honeydukes after practice, I heard there’s a really good new candy that’s chocolate and it changes flavor when you eat it!  Oliver, wanna come?”

“Oh, I don’t wanna intrude with ya and—“ Oliver was about to say to Angelina, but you cut him off.

“I don’t think you’d be intruding,” you reasoned, though you were not trying to sound a bit too desperate in wanting him to come.  Not even Angelina knew you had a crush on the Quidditch Captain for some time, thinking of him as handsome and a great player of the game.  He was also quite funny, you find his sense of humor unique and comical apart from other humor you’ve heard in the past.  But there was something about Oliver that drew you to him, whether it was his drive or the spark he had within.  But you were intrigued with him.

“Yeah, come on Oliver.  You should live a little,” Angelina said in a snort as she threw on her practice jumper before skipping off with her broom in hand.  You were left alone with Oliver again, who was flushed a bit from your asking him to come with you and Angelina.

“It’s been a bit since I’ve been at Honeydukes,” Oliver admitted, seeing you grin widely with a bounce on your feet.

“Oh, you’ll love it!  They’re making fresh Pumpkin Pasties for the New Year, and the new chocolate they have is apparently delicious!  I tried it last week, and mine went from tasting like chocolate to peppermint!” You were explaining in excitement, Oliver hanging on your every word.  He would listen to you talk about Potions if you were going to, he simply loved hearing your voice and how you would describe all that you loved. He wished he had that enthusiasm apart from Quidditch.  

“Watch out!”  Both you and Oliver look at the same time, seeing a bludger flying in your direction at a fast rate.  Fred Weasley, the bat in hand, looked in agony as Angelina screamed out.  Your eyes went wide in horror and shock, frozen in your spot since the ball was so close to hitting you right in the head.  But Oliver was quicker, grabbing you by the elbows and yanking you towards him.  You both fell onto the bench, you perched on his lap and Oliver’s arms were around you as the bludger zipped past you both and slammed into the ground so hard it broke the grass.

“Merlin, Fred!  You trying to kill my roommate?!” Angelina roared as the rest of the team flew down to hoop off their brooms, yet neither you nor Oliver were thinking of them.  You both were staring at one another, Oliver’s arms around your waist and your hands clinging onto his practice robes as your eyes were wide on one another.  It almost felt like you two were in a bubble with one another and trying not to let it burst.  Oliver could breathe in the soft perfume you were wearing, and you could smell the leather on his practice pads along his arms and legs.  

“Ya…ya okay?” Oliver finally asked in a croak, you nodding your head rapidly as he finally had a soft smile on his lips.

“Fine…fine thank you, Oliver,” You sheepishly said to him.  Of course, the moment was cut short as Angelina bee-lined over to the pair of you as well as Fred, who looked so green in the face while Angelina helped you out of Oliver’s lap.  Inwardly, Oliver missed your warmth, how he could count the freckles along your nose, and the sweet perfume on your neck.

“You alright?” Angelina asked you, giving her a reassuring smile as you nodded.  She sighed, then whirling around to smack Fred in the arm, “Git!  Learn how to be a Beater for once!”

“I’m sorry!  Honestly!” Fred said to both yourself and Oliver, who was reluctantly getting up from the bench and trying to hide the blush on his cheeks, “This Bludger is daft I tell you!  I need to tell Hooch!”

It was safe to say that practice was cut short, which was fine by Oliver since he figured a trip together into Hogsmeade would be a good way to spend the rest of the day.  But he never forgot that moment with you in his arms, perched in his lap and looking at you as if he was some kind of hero for saving you from a nasty slam from a bludger.  

Both you and Oliver would laugh about it years after getting married right out of Hogwarts, then reciting the story to your son and daughter when they would ask.

The End.

February Prompt Session

Tagged - @a-lumos-in-the-nox

[discount-elysium]

Pale Static Exchange Gift

Happy Pale Static Exchange @nonsal! I wrote a fic for your requests. You can read it on ao3 here, or under the cut below, whichever you prefer! I hope you had a lovely holiday season, and that you enjoy your present!

FIC: (You are) the life I needed all along

PAIRING: Harry/Kim, Harry & Kim

Summary: Harry invites Kim to a nice dinner, and it does not, in fact, go spectacularly wrong.

YOUR APARTMENT’S SHOEBOX OF A KITCHEN - The room is warm, the dough under your hands is pleasantly sticky and forming well, the radio is softly playing, and you’re in the middle of making dinner for your favorite person.  Life, for the moment, is good.

SHIVERS [Medium: Success] - Outside of your window, the grey expanse of cloud hangs low and dismal over the rain-dampened street.  Few people brave this temporary lull in the downpour: a man rushing to meet his sister, a woman coming home early from work, two sticky-faced children sharing an adventure.

Revachol no more sleeps than her people do–but perhaps even she’s afforded a moment’s repose, in all this rain.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - And you, Harrier Du Bois, have a stew pot full of broth, several pounds of farmer’s-market-Lynne’s best chuck, onions, carrots, potatoes, and a fuckload of herbs cooking on the stove.  From the smell of this kitchen right now, you might as well be the best cook that ever lived.

YOU -

Fuck yeah I am!  I’m a superstar chef.  Gorący Kubek eat your heart out.

Admittedly I did once light my kitchen a little bit on fire.  But it was a very little bit!  Barely worth bringing up any more, really.

…I do okay.

YOU - For a moment, you put a little more force into kneading your bread dough than is probably strictly necessary.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Aw, who cares about the kitchen fire?  That was two months ago.  Might as well have happened to a different person.

HALF-LIGHT - There’s still scorch marks on the counter.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - And?  Nothing here’s unblemished, including Harry, but that’s not the point.  Can’t you feel the saliva pooling under your tongue, Harry?  Can’t you smell the air?

PERCEPTION (Smell) [Easy: Success] - It does smell very nice.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Thank you.

YOU - Of the various pastimes you tried your hand at post-Martinaise–and there were many–

ENCYCLOPEDIA - Knitting, journaling, bird-watching, cooking, drawing, wood-working, knitting again–

YOU - Cooking is the only one that seems to have really stuck.  It does you good, having something to keep your hands busy that produces tangible results.  It doesn’t hurt that recently, those results have been delicious.

And today, you’re finally going to do the thing you’ve wanted to do for months!

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Medium: Failure] - Sleep with Kim!

VOLITION - Khm.  Ah.  The other thing Harry’s wanted for months, Feel-good.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - No one appreciates genius in its time. :(

VOLITION - …

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Medium: Success] - …fine.  Feed Kim your food.

YOU - Homemade bread and stew may not be the fanciest fare, but they’re still good, and you’re confident that you can make them well.  Kim’s going to come over to dinner and eat something you’ve made him, and he’s going to enjoy himself.

LOGIC - This is going to go over better than the scarf did.

YOU - You pause, momentarily, in your kneading. 

EMPATHY - Hey, he said he liked the scarf!  

RHETORIC [Easy: Success] - No, he said it was ‘thoughtful.’

EMPATHY - Which is a way to say you like something!

LOGIC - If he liked it so much, why doesn’t he ever wear it?

PERCEPTION [Easy: Success] - It was a little…lumpy.

INLAND EMPIRE - Warm, soft white wool, cloud-like under your fingers.  You were in the craft store for a case and touched it in passing–you left without it.  That night you thought of aerostatic pilots with long white scarves to ward off the chill of interinsulary travel; you thought of Kim, blowing warm air over his cold fingers in alleyways and turning up the collar of his coat.  You went back to that little store a day later.

HAND EYE COORDINATION - I did my best!  Speaking of which–

YOU - Idly, your hands move.  The warm dough stretches, elastic under your hands.  You’ve oiled a bowl already; you put your dough into it for its first rise and cover it.

CONCEPTUALIZATION - Like the pupa in its chrysalis: warm, enclosed, waiting for change.

YOU - With your stew cooking and your bread rising, there’s not much else you need to do in the kitchen.  You putter out to your living room with the intention of tidying up, but it’s…honestly not that bad?

COMPOSURE - Khm.  Yeah.  That would be from the compulsive nervous cleaning you already did a few hours ago.  I can only hold this ship together so much, and luckily this time, the nervous energy was constructive!

LOGIC - Kim’s been to your apartment before, Harry.  He’s seen it worse than this.

YOU - The only other thing you were planning to do was pick out a post-meal board game.  You don’t have very many board games–they’re expensive–but you’ve started a little collection since Martinaise, and you’re hoping Kim will want to play one tonight.  You think you’ve narrowed it down to two options, Beyond the Pale–

ENCYCLOPEDIA - A two to four player semi-cooperative game about aerostatic pilots lost in the Pale, desperately trying to repair their aerostatic while fending off possibly-hallucinatory creatures from the Pale–but the pilots may have hidden motives…

YOU - And Tailor Made.

ENCYCLOPEDIA - A shorter, but very charming two to four player game about sewing custom blankets to attract various cats to sleep on them.

YOU - But maybe only giving Kim two options is too restrictive?  Maybe you should just pull your whole collection out and let him pick?

EMPATHY [Challenging: Success] - Harry.  Try taking a deep breath.

YOU - You take a deep breath.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - You can breathe deeper than that!  Put your diaphragm into it!

YOU - You take a second, deeper, manlier breath.  Then you take another, because real athletes always give 110%.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - Your hands stop shaking.

YOU - Oh.  

EMPATHY - Yes, oh.  

YOU - I was panicking, wasn’t I?

EMPATHY - Mmhm.  Want to make a guess about why, Harry?

YOU -

What is this, introspection?  Self-awareness?  I don’t like it.  Real men keep their mysterious emotions bottled up inside their chiseled and rugged chests until they, for unrelated reasons, abruptly die of bleeding ulcers or heart attacks.  (Opt out)

I can do this.  I can have a whole entire thought about my emotional state and I probably won’t even cry about it.  (Opt in).  

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Medium: Success] - In the halls of Precinct 41, Satellite Officer Jean Vicquemare is abruptly struck by the irrational feeling that he owes Patrol Officer Judit Minot 5 reál.  He shakes his head, and the baffling certainty passes.

YOU - In preparation for this terrifying new endeavor, you take a quick lap of your living room.  Then you close your eyes very tightly–

LOGIC - Is that really a necessary step?

EMPATHY - Shush.

YOU - And you confront the question.  Why are you worrying?

YOU - 

Because you want tonight to go well.

Because since minute one of your haphazard reentry into this world, it’s been a little bit about Kim, hasn’t it?  Not all about Kim–he would hate the thought of that–but a little.  His Kineema called you back to life.  When everything in the world was terrifying and nonsensical, he was a steady point against which you could orient yourself.  You rebuilt yourself painstakingly, and he didn’t help, exactly, but he gave you grace.  He was gentle with you when you stumbled.

And in the months since Martinaise, he’s continued to be your friend.  He’s not perfect, and neither are you.  There have been arguments, and doubts, and low points.  But when you need him to have your back, he has.  Every time.

And it’s not that you want to repay him, exactly, because you don’t owe him.  But tonight, you want him to feel warm, and well fed, and appreciated.  You want him to feel good with you.  Because of you.  

….because you love him.

YOU - You get the oddest feeling that there was a more honest choice you could have made–a thought there you turned back from fully confronting.  But that’s a silly thing to think about!  Haha.  Ha.  Phew.  Emotions sure are hard.  Good thing you won’t be looking directly at yours again any time soon.  

EMPATHY - …Harrier.

YOU - Anyway, that was a productive realization: you really want tonight to go well!  And you definitely know exactly what you can do to make that happen, and to not have to think any more deeply about this whole thing: make dessert!!

EMPATHY - …I give up.  I don’t get paid enough to manage this mess.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Amen, brother.

…

YOUR APARTMENT - By the time Kim knocks on your door that evening, you’ve got the stew ready in the nicest bowl you own, homemade bread waiting on a cutting board beside it, and a berry crumble ready to pop in the oven once dinner gets started.  Your slightly-lopsided kitchen table is as neatly set as your mismatched silverware allows for.  Your apartment is clean.  Your boardgame choices are set out.  You’re all set to woo–khm.  What an odd slip.  You’re ready to impress the hell out of Kim.

KIM KITSURAGI - Kim knocks on your door at 19:30 on the dot, precisely on time.  When you open the door–

REACTION SPEED [Easy: Success] - HE IS WEARING THE SCARF.

KIM KITSURAGI - With his collar turned up, and the scarf tucked in around his neck, the lumpiness of it is less noticeable than it was in your memory.  He looks warm, and comfortable.  For no particular reason, your breath catches in your chest.

YOU - “You look nice!”

KIM KITSURAGI - Taken slightly aback, Kim blinks.

SUGGESTION [Medium: Failure] - Uh, shit.  Uh–try saying more?  That’ll fix this.

YOU - “In my scarf, I mean.  Or–your scarf.  Because I gave it to you, so it’s–it’s your scarf.”

PERCEPTION [Medium: Success] - Kim’s smiling, now.  It’s small, but it’s there.

YOU - “I should probably invite you inside.”

KIM KITSURAGI - “Yes, detective.  Unless you’re planning to serve dinner on your doorstep.”

YOU - You lead Kim inside, and offer to take his coat.  Kim shrugs out of his coat and scarf and watches with a faint air of confusion as you hang them up on coat hooks for him–something he could very easily do himself.  Out of the bright orange jacket which you sometimes privately think of as his armor, Kim always looks a little softer and smaller.  It’s a good look.

KIM KITSURAGI - When you pull out a chair at your kitchen table for him, Kim goes still, briefly.  His dark eyes search your face for something, and you’re not sure exactly what he sees.  “Detective,” he says.

RHETORIC - He sounds almost wary.

COMPOSURE [Medium: Failure] - Unable to bear the weight of his gaze, you wave vaguely towards his seat at the table.  “Go ahead.  Sit down, get started.  I’ll just–uh.  Pop in the crumble.”

YOU - If you take longer than you need to, strictly speaking, to find your oven mitts, open your oven, and set the dessert in–if you wait until you’re sure you’ve heard Kim’s weight settle into his chair, and the click of serving utensils–well.  Hopefully the other detective in the room isn’t going to call you on it!

KIM KITSURAGI - By the time you join him at the table, Kim has in fact started eating–he, like many other people who grew up in the years following the Antecentennial Revolution, doesn’t tend to leave food sitting long before tucking in.

INLAND EMPIRE - Memories of hungrier days linger long after they’re gone.  You’d know, Harry.

KIM KITSURAGI - He passes the cutting board towards you, an evenly-cut slice waiting for you there.  “It’s all very good.  Thank you.”

COMPOSURE [Challenging: Success] - The sting in your eyes comes as a surprise, but you blink, hard, and manage to push it back before you do something horribly embarrassing like cry over Kim complimenting your food.

KIM KITSURAGI - Kim settles a hand on your elbow, gently.

REACTION SPEED - Not fast enough for Kim not to notice, though.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Medium: Success] - Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi is an excellent detective.  From the moment you opened your door, he’s been gathering evidence: your uncommonly clean living room, the way you took his coat, the way you pulled out a chair for him.  Nothing you do goes unnoticed.  He’s coming close to a conclusion, now.  

EMPATHY - Are you actually willing to hear it?

YOU -

Distract him.  Open your mouth, say something outrageous, and draw his attention away.

[Volition: Challenging] - Look at Kim, and wait for what he has to say.

VOLITION [Challenging: Success] - You steel yourself.  It’s difficult to meet Kim’s eyes–those eyes that, for all their far-sightedness, see so much–but you bring yourself to do it.  You wait.

KIM KITSURAGI - “Detective.”  He pauses a moment, then, “Harry.  You know you don’t need to impress me.”

YOU - “Can’t I want to?” Suddenly the words are bubbling up at your lips, urgent.  “Don’t you deserve to be impressed, Kim?”

RHETORIC - You know that sounds like–

EMPATHY - Shut.  Up.

YOU - “I just want you to stay.  For good food, and for berry crumble, and for–to trounce me at board games, after.  I want you to have a good time with me.  Is that too much?”

PERCEPTION [Challenging: Success] - Kim lets out a very controlled breath.  He’s looking at you very steadily.

KIM KITSURAGI - “No, Harry.  That’s not too much.”  His hand tightens for a moment on your elbow, and then he lets go.  He takes the bowl from in front of you, and ladles stew into it, setting it back in front of you full.  “Eat, before it gets cold, hmm?”

YOU - The rational thing to do would be to do as Kim says, but instead you say, like a child in need of reassurance, “So you’re staying?”

KIM KITSURAGI - There’s something in the way he’s looking at you, now, that you cannot fully parse.  “Yes, I’ll stay.”  He looks away with a smile–an almost private little curve of his lips.  “We have plenty of time.”

[chalicepumasway]

Happy Birthday Cubfan135

Happy Birthday Cubfan135

Written by ChalicePumaSway

                The soft sound of barking and armadillos squeaking woke Cub on his birthday. Yesterday had been fun, he’d spent hours with his best friend who had run and completed his Labyrinth. The first to finish in fact. He sat up and stretched his arms back behind him and touched the pillow. He could see the sculk from his bedside window and it seemed to be happily pulsing away lit by the blue of the soul fires. He liked his birthday. Some people seemed to feel bad about them as they grew older but to him, he had leveled up. He swung his feet over the end of the bed and stretched as he stood. A ghost of a vex smile darted across his face and he turned to make the bed.

                He walked down the stairs and across to the barrel that provided torches. It was nearly empty so he pulled a stack of logs from the wood chest and chucked it into the machine. The hum of the redstone and the ozone smell it made was better than coffee. He popped open a water bottle and sipped it as he thought about how best to tackle his birthday to do list. He’d been planning all manner of fun for today. He heard his name called faintly and he looked out the windows toward the factory and followed the windows around to see if he could catch sight of someone.

                “CuuuuuuuuuuuuUUUUUUBBBBBB” A familiar voice called and then he heard a thwack on the side of his house. “ow.”

                “Goooooood morning Mr Goodtimes. I hope you are well. Would you care to join me for breakfast?”  Cub put some raw pork and eggs on a hopper that fed it into a smoker. He grabbed some wheat from the barrel and walked over to the crafter. A loaf of bread popped out and he ran it over the smoker until a window popped up in the corner of his vision. He took the toast from the window and set it down in an item frame on his table.

                Scar walked down from the second floor. He had apparently come in on the balcony, his elytra fluttering behind him, some flight rockets in one hand. His smirk, ever present, always delighted Cub first thing in the morning. “That smells good! Of course I would love to have a birthday breakfast with my bestie.”

                The two of them sat down to pork, eggs, and toast. In the distance Skizz’s scream could be heard from Tango’s factory, another zombie piglin had fallen to his doom. The soft sound of chewing was replaced soon by a Disney rant, Cub smiled to himself. Scar really couldn’t help it. He cleaned up Scar’s plate which was only 2/3 eaten, half an egg and some of the toast still left over. He walked out and tossed the half an egg to Big Mike and broke up the bits of toast and fed them to his chickens. The dog was delighted and so were the chickens. He turned back to see Scar standing in the doorway, jittery with excitement. He raised an eyebrow. “What are you so excited about?”

                “Today of course! It’s your birthday and I have the WHOLE thing planned out!” Scar pulled out a book and quill and flipped through a few pages. “Its gonna be the best, just you wait!”

                “Scar….I already have a whole list of things to do to celebrate my birthday.” Cub adjusted his glasses and sighed. He knew he wasn’t going to win this fight. Having a birthday the day after your best friend had both benefits and draw backs and he was always doing stuff Scar wanted to do on his birthday. They always had fun but this year he was hoping to do the things he wanted.

                “How about this, we do one thing from my list of stuff and then something from your list and back and forth until we finish both?” Scar gave his best charming smile and Cub chuckled.

                “That’s mighty big of you Scar, can I at least know what I am agreeing to before I say yes?” Cub started toward the fireworks factory. He had gone two months without checking his mail and had missed out on a few really good opportunities and had delayed a fun one so now he checked it more regularly.

                “Nope. But you can tell me what you have planned so I can tell you how much more fun everything I have planned is.” Scar danced around Cub as they walked together. His jittery energy made him bounce and float with the elytra.

                “Well, I fully upgraded my mace recently so I was gonna try it out on a few different mobs. A wither. A Dragon. A warden. An Elder Guardian. That last one is gonna be hard. I don’t think the mace will work well in water. The Cub Club hungers for more destruction.” Cub smiled to himself, he had gotten a fantastic kill on Etho recently even though he had intended it to be someone else….well at one point he missed Etho so it really did wash out. “I almost chained it on you and Etho and I was gonna see if I could get it to chain, how many mobs I could kill without touching the ground.”

                “Well that does sound fun Cub, you could do that any day. That doesn’t really feel birthday level special to me.’ Scar stopped halfway through the door to the factory and Cub walked passed, the redstone doors closed on Scar and he yelped. “Not again!”

                “I added a button in there just for you buddy, push it and the door will open again.” Cub had come to the conclusion that Scar proofing his base was just a natural evolution. Wouldn’t mean Scar would die less, would just mean it would be Scar’s fault and not the base’s fault or his. “And what exactly would be Birthday level fun to you? Yesterday you spent 5 hours in my Labyrinth .”

                “Almost 5.” Scar pulled himself out of the redstone after he pushed the button and stood next to Cub as he checked his mail. “Well that’s what inspired me to make plans today. Yesterday’s challenge was amazing. I wanted to go back and experience some of the other things you spent a lot of time on together.”

                “What do you mean by that?” Cub hadn’t gotten any new mail but there were a few pieces he really needed to do something about but hadn’t quite figured out when to fit them into his schedule.

                “Oh I dunno, a certain golf course. Maybe some Trident Enderpearl fun. Maybe some Total Chaos. Or we could even visit both Decked Outs.” Scar straightened his hat and started poking through the shulkers Cub had some of his mail in. “Oh you never used your sand or gravel voucher.”

                “Wait….you wanna hop into other seasons and play games together today?” The idea had merit. No…the idea WAS better than what he had planned. He knew Scar could really come up with some amazing stuff but he hadn’t ever done it on his birthday. Scar’s good ideas were a bit chaotic and rarely fit any particular schedule.

                “Not just me…a bunch of the hermits want to come with and play. Even some of the hermits who weren’t around when the games were made in the first place.” Scar had taken to jumping on the glass separating the upper section of the factory lobby and down into the water and then back onto the stairs. The parkour bug from yesterday hadn’t fully wore off yet.

                Cub blinked at Scar for a moment. Other hermits? Like who? Did it matter? He’d have fun no matter who showed up. “When would we start?”

                Scar turned to Cub and his grin widened a bit too much and his vex smile flashed across his face then flickered out back to his smirk. “That’s what I wanted to hear! Let’s GO!”

                The two left the factory and were joined by a rotating group of hermits. Skizz really wanted to try Decked Out the original as did Gem and Pearl. Joe wanted to play more golf. Tango wanted to play some Pot Shot, the first game in the current gaming district.  Etho was hoping for some Total Chaos. Impluse  wanted to do a few runs of Decked Out 2. Other hermits joined in on the fun as the day progressed. It was hard to keep track of everything. The group wandered off to their respective homes at the end of the day. Scar and Cub sat on the end of the Fireworks Factory roof and watched the moon overhead.

                “Did you have a good birthday buddy?” Scar asked, a more than a little bit of pride in his voice.

                “The best. You did a good job, Scar.” Cub smiled at Scar who beamed back at him. Cub thought that next year it would be hard to beat this birthday.

Happy Birthday Cubfan135. Whatever you get up to, may you have a good day celebrating.

[urlsaremeaningless]

collection of funny things people I know have said (part 2)

Feel free to change pronouns as needed <3 have fun! please reblog this if you enjoy it.

whats art without a little bit of OSHA violations

Ten-nessee implies the existence of nine-ssee

Mary-land must have been Mary-sea

While we're still here, whoop his ass too

their new companion Space Turtle, Hero from Space that they picked up after a drunken college party

That’s more of an ask than you think

We will let you fuck the monsters but I’m drawing the line at buildings

If you ignore all the ugly parts, it looks kinda nice

there was definitely gay love in there...somewhere

That’s like asking a beaver the size of his wood

I want to be in a hospital in Canada or France! Oui, oui, ow

Sir, do you know how fast your wheels were gyrating?

your honor, my client is in goblin mode

No mine isn’t a fun fact. It’s about animal abuse.

If an eel isnt just a snake fish then idk what is lol

..................where is the CORN STORE?!

thats like calling the tamborine the shakey wakey or the tuba the blowey blowey

I thought that said turn [name] into a mommy for a sec and I got real concerned for what was happening in this chiles tonight. Doesn’t mummy in retrospect sound less alarming now?

what THE FUCK is HALLOWS OF WEENS?!

He’s not giving the boobs their due diligence

I haven't seen any beer cans in a while and i'm getting concerned

It makes my nostrils feel lemony fresh

Wow, these people don’t know how milkshakes work…. Idk how we’re gonna get the boys to the yard

You’re like high fiving god right now

OSHA violations are like warcrimes for working people

I'm sorry, did you just say the dead baby has charisma?

cannibalism confirmed 13/10

Well, I could throw babies into an incinerator. That would be unforgettable, doesn't mean it's GOOD

[Person A] is the main character but okay [Person B] sure

shit!...i just killed someone

Oh shut the fuck up, no you're fucking not

...so like....is pluto a slave?

Corner cobbler corn cob, that’s where corner cobbler is on the corn cob-corn corner corn cobbler

If Charlie can be short for Charles, then Carly can be short for Carles

If shorten Charles to Chuck, then what can you shorten Carles to?

How do we Othello you?

look man, I'm just saying... who the fuck says 'yeah I want a bar of milky way,' like they're not gonna pick literally any other chocolate

The vibe I get is like you're a fancy butler by day but you have a rave later tonight