#I prefer the idea of them using food-based swears

[desultory-novice]

With Dedede constantly trusting Meta Knight with dark artifacts, and Meta Knight constantly backing up Dedede's stupid ideas, I can now only imagine the Revenge of Meta Knight being a hilarious overescalation of Dedede's naptime or something like that. "King I swear if you don't wake up I WILL fly the Halberd over."

Fufufu... I toyed around with the escalation + trust idea, albeit with a slightly different reason - because I've always wanted to do something with their potential closeness.

(3 pages)

...And thus did King Dedede go back to bed and quietly try to pretend that Meta Knight's Revenge never happened.

[eldritcmor]

IDEA!! You know how in most legends and myths involving dragons there’s often a hoard the dragon is protecting? What if the 141 was the hoard of someone (or something) not entirely human. They masquerade as a human and fight alongside the 141 but they’re insanely protective of them and have dragon like abilities. Heat and smoke never seem to bother them. Sometimes the 141 can see the shimmer of scales out of the corner of their eye but when they turn to check it out all they see is their “human” teammate. Maybe they have reptile like tendencies and prefer to have meals alone because they’re “insecure” about their eating habits (they’re actually eating nonhuman food like raw meat or something). Idk, I just really like the idea of the 141 being oblivious to a monster in their midst. Also I really REALLY like dragons

Gaz looked up as the sharp screech of twisting metal met his ears. The guard at his door poked his head out to see what was happening only to jerk and slump, a rather large piece of rebar right between his eyes. Gaz did not want to meet whatever the fuck did that and so scooted the chair he was tied to as far back into the shadows as he could. He tried to keep his breathing even but as the steady clomp of boots on metal grew closer, he couldn't cut it. A hand curled around the door frame and for a second, Gaz would forever swear he saw gleaming copper claws. He blinked and suddenly you were in front of him. Kneeling low as you confidently cut through the rope around his ankles.

"Breathe Sergeant. I got you." Gaz practically melted at the familiar rumble of your voice. He let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding as you moved to the bindings on his chest. Then he was confused.

"It's good to see you lieutenant, but how did you get here?"

You hummed as you finished cutting through his bindings and hauled Gaz to his feet. While there wasn't really any major damage that you could see, you still didn't like finding him like this.

"I called in a favor from an old friend. For all intents and purposes, this was never sanctioned. Now before you go thinking too hard, the others did try to come as well. Unfortunately, they got placed under the equivalent of house arrest by Shepherd. Now come on, our ride is waiting."

Gaz rolled the information over in his mind as you led him through the little facility. Everywhere he looked was some form of evidence of a fight. It looked like something had absolutely ripped through their defences.

--

Ghost startled as he entered the little kitchen of their current base. It was incredibly late at night and he hadn't expected anyone to be awake. You were sitting on the counter, ripped open package of red meat in one hand and a piece of meat midway to your mouth. Ghost raised an eyebrow and you slowly lowered the little chunk back into the tray.

"is this why you never eat with us?" Your fellow lieutenant asked as he grabbed a mug from one of the cupboards. You have a little noncommittal shrug as you set aside your dinner. Ghost popped the mug into the microwave and pulled out a few teabags.

"No need to stop on my account, lieutenant." The microwave beeped and ghost retrieved his mug before plopping the teabags in and promptly exiting the kitchen.

--

Soap raised an eyebrow as you stripped off your jacket and bundled it into your pack. The team was visiting Farah and the desert heat was harsh on all of them. Even Price had taken refuge under the nearest shade cloth. You however just seemed to be perfectly fine in the heat. He thought the heat was finally getting to you. That is until you climbed up on huge flat rock, laid in direct sunlight and promptly fell asleep. You were fucking basking while the rest of the team was baking in the sun. Soap stomped over, sun be damned, and climbed right up beside you. He purposely blocked the sun as he kneeled next to you and raised his hand to slap down in the dead center of your back. That is until your hand shot out and easily caught his wrist. You two briefly wrestled for a minute or two before soap yelped as you scooped him up over your shoulder and carried his ass back over to the others. Farah laughed as you deposited Soap right at Price's feet. A simple no left your mouth in a sort of grumbling growl as you went back to your rock. Soap pouted in the shade but didn't move to try again, as Price handed him a canteen of water.

--

Price watched from the door as you wrestled against Ghost, with Soap and Gaz sitting on the side. You two were dirty fucking fighters. Anytime Ghost flipped you on your back, you'd yank him by his mask or shirt to the side. Anytime you'd flip him on his back, he'd take his nails down any piece of exposed flesh in order to get you to rear back and topple. Price thought it was like watching two feral ass badgers fighting. He decided to intervene when Ghost pinned you and his fingers were just a hair too close to your mouth. Your fangs were on display.

"That's enough boys!" He watched in amusement as You and Ghost scrambled to your feet. "Go clean up, all of you. We got a briefing in twenty. Except you, Drake. I need to talk to you." The rest of the squad exited the training room. Price could practically feel the gossip spinning in their heads.

Price turned to you once the team was down the hall and out of earshot. "We need to talk about that little trip you took."

You tilted your head to the side in confusion. "Little trip, sir?"

"The one you took while the rest of us were under house arrest. The one where you somehow returned with the single missing member of this task force."

You simply hummed, a noncommittal sound, as you tapped your wrist. Price shook his head at your silent question. "Ah my most recent leave. What's the issue?"

Price sighed. "Unfortunately, the higher up want to know how Gaz returned." Price grabbed your shoulder and pulleed you down to his height. "You were not involved in anyway, clear?"

You groaned as the grip on your shoulder tightened. "Loud and clear, sir."

"Good man, now get. I'm sure the others are wondering what kind of ass chewing you just got." Price watched as you walked out the room, defeat lining your shoulders. Good, no need to trouble anyone else with your little rescue mission. Price glanced down at his hand. He hadn't meant to grab you that hard but he had to get the point across. There was a red lined imprint of scales in the center of his palm.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Prisoner

Summary-> (Early season 3 based) Winter had been a long journey for all of your group, especially you and Daryl given that there was always a lack of privacy. You find it difficult to feel at home in the prison, but Daryl is always there for you when you need him, and you have the chance to relish in a night alone - or as lonesome as a cell can be (2.9k)

Warnings-> 18+ mdni, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, established relationship, mentions of arrest and imprisonment, swearing

daryl dixon // norman reedus works masterlist

It was an adjustment, that much was clear. After having been locked up in a prison for a few years, the last place you had wanted to be was in one, but here you and your group were, in a cell block after having cleared it out.

Your knee bounced as you sat upon the steps, gnawing upon lip, staring at the familiar grey walls that brought bad memories back into your mind. It wasn’t something you wanted to voice as a problem, you’d spent all winter out on the road, enduring the cold nights, you should have been grateful like everyone else was.

“Y’ okay?” Daryl asked as he took a seat beside you, brushing his shoulders with your own with a comforting manner, reading with no doubt that something was bothering you. Most of the day you preferred to be outside, killing the walkers that clawed at the fences, and you jumped at the chance to go out on a run for supplies just to get out of this pit of misery.

“I’m fine. Just need a distraction from all of this.” You gestured around you, sending him a small smile, feeling far too conscious to even think about falling asleep. “I know it should be good that we’ve found somewhere, and it is, don’t get me wrong, but-“

“I know.” He told you, nodding in understanding, before he put his large hand over your smaller one, clasping it in his grip and bringing it up to his lips. “Don’t have to like it, none of us do, but we woulda died if we hadn’t found this place. And that’s the last thing that I wan’ to happen to ya. I’m grateful for everything you did, ya know.”

“I know Dare.” You decided to look at him rather than the tin you were sat in, meeting his softened blue eyes. “Think if I saw Merle again I’d kick his ass for abandoning me on that night which cost me months in the normal world with you.” He grunted in agreement, smiling when remembering that you had found their camp, and you’d done just that to his older brother.

“Ya got out, that’s all that matters. Especially before all this and the world goin to shit.” The thought of you trapped in somewhere like this and most likely being turned into walker chow or one of them had his heart bursting at the seams. It was a vulgar thought, and the last thing that he ever wanted to happen to you. He wanted to protect you, and he should have done that before, but he was petrified, and you were too stubborn and claimed that you had to pay for your mistakes.

He’d come to see you a few times when you were locked away, he hated that a panel of glass separated the both of you, all he had wanted to do was run his fingers through your hair and tell you everything was going to be okay. But he couldn’t, so instead he counted the days and hours until your release, he had this whole idea of collecting you from that place and driving you far away.

But your release day had been the same day that the entire planet was engulfed with the spreading news of a disease that turned people into monsters, and Merle wouldn’t let him go to see if you had made your sanctioned escape. He had no idea whether you were still alive until he saw Shane carrying you into the camp, exhausted from the lack of both food and fluids and running god knows how many miles just to survive.

“Guess you’re right.” He always was, even if he was too selfless to admit it. “Do you maybe want to try sleeping in a cell? I know we’ve got this whole thing of liking the floor, but I guess it’s worth a try.” Daryl surprising agreed, pulling you to your feet after he had stood, the two of you walking to an empty cell, passing by the other members of your group that were either asleep or lying down in isolation.

It was a big step for you to enter a cell after the months you had been holed up in one by the law, but Daryl kept his hand on your elbow, reminding you that he was there. And always would be. And so unsurely, despite it being your idea, you stepped within the cell, it was devoid of any personality, just a bunk and the normal silver basin and toilet, which all reminded you that this wasn’t home. You hoped that one day you’d find somewhere that felt less suffocating, there had to be a place out there, beyond the chain fence, where it was safe to breathe without the risk of walkers eating you in your sleep.

As you entered the room, you were strangely comforted by the sound of Glenn’s snoring from the cell over, he was no doubt laying beside Maggie, then both lulling in the chance to rest. “It’s not so bad.” You muttered, kicking off your mud accented boots, as Daryl remained close to the door, blocking the view from anyone that could pass as you shrugged out of your jeans, and lifted your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your underwear. It was something that you hadn’t been able to do in prison without the harassment of officers or other people fulfilling their sentences.

Daryl said nothing as you stood still for a moment, closing your eyes, before you reached back, unclipping your bra, his eyes danced over the expanse of your back, every scar traced by his pupils and every mole a target that he planned to pelt with gentle kisses. You turned around to face him, like a vixen testing his limits, tilting your head as you padded along the floor towards him, your fingers brushing against his sleeve butchered flannel. “I want your shirt.”

There was no resistance on his part as he helped you unbutton each button on it, shrugging it off of his broad shoulders as he handed it to you, watching you slip it on. You inhaled his scent as you did only a couple of the buttons on it, before testing the mattress with your hand on the bottom bunk, before sliding upon it and closing your eyes. “Aren’t you going to join me?” He said nothing as he silently kicked off his own boots, tossing the knives he carried out from his pockets onto the floor, them deliciously clattering upon the cement, as he readied himself to lay beside you.

“It’s been a long time since we had a bed.” Daryl spoke in hushed volume, not counting the time on Herschel’s farm after he had been scathed by a bullet in the left side of his head, no thanks to Andrea. He shuffled as he tried to get comfortable, deciding on laying on his side and facing you, trapping you in his arms as his nose brushed against your own. “At least it’s better than that one you had in your shitty old trailer.” He smirked, watching as you tapped his shoulder with your screwed up fist, rolling your eyes when you remembered why it hadn’t been so comfortable.

“It was perfect, we broke it in. Not my fault that the springs couldn’t hold up.” He shook his head at your words, clearly that sale you had got it from had been a scam, but you had insisted that it was better than sleeping on the floor. Truth be told, Daryl didn’t care where he slept, as long as he had you securely beside him, he never wanted you to be taken away from him again, and he was insistent that he wouldn’t allow that to happen.

“I think you’re the one tha’ couldn’t hold up. Or be quiet.” He remarked, causing a scoff to pass from your lips, as you attempted to turn away from him but he wouldn’t allow you. Instead his grip on you got tighter, as he raised a brow at your actions. “But if yar blamin’ it on the damn mattress, we migh’ as well see if this one is any better.” It wasn’t very often that Daryl would smirk, but when he did, you practically melted in a puddle in front of him and forgot where you were, which in this instance, was a blessing. His hand trailed down your sternum that was exposed by your lousy buttoning of his shirt that you wore, descending dangerously lower, so that his fingertip hit the top band of your panties.

Your breath hitched, as your body became almost immobile, frozen from his more that welcomed touch. He teased you, running his hand hand back to your stomach only to trail it back down to where his destination had been. “Damn it Daryl, do something.” You hissed, careful to keep your voice down. “I swear to- oh.” His hand had slipped into your underwear, rubbing against the outside of your cunt, causing your hips to jut up into his touch. He always knew how to make you sufficiently aggravated, you’d have cursed out from the bubbling annoyance in your chest if you had no worries that anybody could hear the two of you.

With that he slipped a finger into your walls, it felt like it had been a long time since the two of you had an opportunity to be physical. All through winter, after losing the farm to the mass of endless walkers, you’d had sex once out in the woods, when you were supposed to be hunting, and because of your lack of action you felt touch starved. Even despite Daryl proceeding to hold your hand when the pair of you rarely walked at the back of the group, and sleeping side by side with him. It just hadn’t been enough, but for now these taunting walls allowed you some release, ironically enough.

“Yer so fuckin’ tight.” Daryl muttered, kissing up your stomach all the way up to your lips, ushering and drinking your whimpers that threatened to escape. “Woulda fucked ya more if I’d had the chance baby, now I’m really gonna have to stretch ya out before I can put my cock in ya.” You could only moan into his mouth, hands clasping around his wrist as you ground yourself down on his hand, you let out a squeal as he unexpectedly entered another finger, alarmed by the welcomed intrusion, however Daryl stopped all movements. He spoke quietly to himself, eyes dancing around with a scheming glimmer in his eyes, as an idea revelled in his mind.

He yanked a pillow out from beneath your head, causing you to pant as you clenched desperately around his fingers, trying to allure him into continuing. Daryl raised your hips, fingers still in you, as he placed the pillow beneath them, your mouth making an O shape as he hit a new angle inside of you. If you hadn’t been in a prison, knowing that it was your worst nightmare, he would have calmed your sounds by placing the pillow over your head, but he knew where the line was drawn and he was never one to cross it if he was aware of your discomfort. “Good girl.” He drawled out, deciding to fasten the pace of his fingers as a wet spot began to leak onto your panties, he swiped his tongue across his bottom lip as he watched you. You were close, and it had come faster than expected, given how many months it had been.

“More.” You pleaded, wanting his cock, no matter how much it hurt when he stretched you out, but instead you were given another finger, and Daryl grunted as he rutted into the bed. “Dare, need you.” You huffed, feeling empty when he removed his fingers. The time dragged as he unbuckled his belt and pulled off his jeans, and finally he clambered on top of you, his naked form teasing every nerve in your entire body. “If you need me so bad, why don’ ya ride me?” He whispered, rolling the both of you over so that you were atop of him. You leant down, your hair falling in a cascade around both of your faces as you pressed your lips against his, sliding your cunt over his cock.

He was frighteningly hard, it had been months since the both of you had gotten this far, and there were no interceptions that could stop you this time, or so you hoped. Your slick coated his length as you ground yourself on him to fulfil your own insatiable drive of hunger, his hands bruising your hips as he attempted to keep you still so he could slip inside of you from beneath your trembling form. His tip grazed your clit, sending you into a frenzy, you couldn’t wait a second longer you mindlessly decided, grasping his erect cock in your hand to hold it still, as you slid him inside of you. It was an ethereal feeling, the two of you relished in the sensation of being so close, and not just emotionally.

Daryl’s head reached up, pulling you down flush on top of him, as he spread an array of butterfly kisses over your collarbones and the middle of your throat. “I love ya girl, you drive me absolutely crazy, but yar my kinda crazy.” He stroked your hair lovingly out of your face, distracting you from how he raised both of the weights of the lower halves of your bodies up, and before you could respond with your own spoken words of love to him, he began to thrust up into you, making the world around you drown into nothing more than a distant memory. Your breathing was messy as it mixed with your partner’s, you sturdied one hand on the pillow beneath his head, the other long discarded to the floor, as your opposite braced itself on the wall, clawing at the impenetrable surface.

“Fuck Dare.” Tears were glazing your eyes as you felt each vein of his cock within your cunt, and you began to move with his own thrusts, finding a rhythm that suited the position that you were in. You were careful not to raise your head too high so that you didn’t hit it on the bottom of the bunk above you, Daryl’s right hand left your hip and rested forcefully on your ass, squeezing the flesh as he tried and failed to hold in his grunts. Surely by morning, there was no doubt that someone would make a commotion about hearing you through the screen-less doors, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, not after how long it had been since you had evoked such passion with the man below you.

Sweat began to bead upon his forehead, slicking the growing locks onto his face, as you brushed them away. A heavy creak rattled from the bed as Daryl once again turned you over, and pounded in you from above, without allowing his cock to slip out from your sweet and wet pussy. From the red tint that had appeared on his face, and how he frowned as though he was on a mission, it was clear that he was getting close, which wasn’t a surprise considering the amount of time that had passed since your bodies had moulded together in such a way. You grasped him by the back of the neck, pulling him down to entrap him in a fiery kiss, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as you approached your own high.

And there it was, the destination that you had been caving for, your own release. After all of those months that you had served as a resident in a prison, you’d missed his touch, and as soon as the two of you had reunited in Atlanta, you’d made the most of the time you could get together. Daryl’s thrusts began to get sloppy as he struggled to keep up his pace after feeling you clench around his cock and cum all over it, sending him into a delirium to chase his own high. He could feel his balls straining to be emptied, and when he was almost there, he pulled out, not wanting to further the risk anymore of getting you pregnant given the state of the world, and began thrusting himself in the apex of your thighs, until finally he allowed his seed to spill over your flesh.

He exhaled a deep sigh, leaning down to press a kiss against your sweaty hairline, before reaching down and grabbing your discarded shirt, wiping your upper legs clean. He wasted no more time to curl up next to you and bring you into his large arms, staring at your face, letting you know without words that you were the most important thing to him. He’d do anything for you and to keep you safe, nobody was going to separate the two of you again, he was stern on that. “Maybe this place isn’t so bad.” You muttered lovingly into his chest, brushing your nose against where his heart lay, and Daryl releases a small but real smile as he tugged the blanket out from tour forms, awkward as his manner was, and wrapped it around the two of you, so that you could drift off to sleep in his arms and pretend for a moment in your dreams that the world wasn’t as it was.

[ihavethedreamies]

Peach | Juicy Fruit | Jaemin

Na Jaemin - NCT Dream

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~2.5k

Pairing: Jaemin x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Established Relationship, Porn without Plot

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! & F! Receiving/Anal), Anal Play, Sex Toys (Butt Plug, Butterfly Vibrator), Deepthroating/Face-Fucking, Rough Sex, Squirting, Daddy Kink (he calls himself that once), Unprotected Sex (Don’t!!)

Summary: Jaemin isn't too happy his girlfriend doesn't like peaches…

Author's Note: This series was supposed to be of drabbles, at least this is the longest.

This is only vaguely based off of Smoothie…I say this because I got the idea for a fruit theme, but past that its unrelated.

-> Series Hub <-

🍉 Mark 🍉

🍇 Renjun 🍇

🍌 Jeno 🍌

🍒 Haechan 🍒

🍓 Chenle 🍓

🍍 Jisung 🍍

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"You really don't like peaches?" Your boyfriend looked at you, looked utterly dejected at this new information. You sighed, flapping the produce bag so it would open, holding it to him. He dumped the five peaches into the bag he had carefully cradled in his arms and then added two more for good measure. As you put the bag in the cart you shrugged.

"I will eat them sometimes. They just are…weird."

"Weird how?" Jaemin took the cart from your grasp so he could push it for you.

"Why are they fuzzy?" You were a bit ashamed to admit why you disliked them so much. The texture was just so odd, it was like velvet. And you hated velvet too, it was unnatural. You much preferred nectarines, of a similar vein but NOT fuzzy.

"But they are so sweet and juicy…" He stopped to send you a mischievous look, "like you." He booped your nose with his finger then continued on, leaving you staring after him in disgust.

"Why do I love you?" You mumbled, trudging after him.

"Because I'm sweet and juicy too." He replied way too casually. You rolled your eyes and you two continued to shop, eventually getting the canned food. You grabbed a couple of different things, and you watched him put a can of pre-cut peaches in.

"We're buying fresh ones." You took it back out so he would put it back.

"These aren't fuzzy, maybe you'll like these." Jaemin tipped the can back and forth in your face, putting it in the cart once again. They weren't expensive, so you just let it happen. In the candy isle, you looked for your favorite kind and he came over with some Japanese brand of chewy candies, and they were peach flavored.

"Seriously?"

"I will convince you to like something peach. Don't make me get the Crush soda!" He pointed at you, finger close but not touching your forehead. Sighing you dropped the issue, finishing shopping then going back home. You sat at the counter eating some chips as he put the rest of the groceries away, he wouldn't let you help. He said it was because you were too short to reach everything, but he really just liked spoiling you. When he was done, he brought over the bag of peaches, setting each one on the counter in a row, smallest to largest.

"What the hell are you doing?" You asked, not sure you wanted to know the answer. He didn't answer, taking the can of peaches, opening it, and placing seven of the slices on a paper plate. In front of each peach, he put one of the candies.

"What. Are. You. Doing?" You reiterated and he held up his hand, telling you to wait.

"If you eat a certain number of each one, I will do different things for you."

"Like what?"

"What do you think, baby girl?" He leaned on the counter, smirking and you shuffled in your seat under his intense gaze. Clearing your throat, you closed the chip bag and shoved them to the side.

"Alright. What are they?"

"One candy equals one minute of making out." He pointed at each one. Jaemin moved to the slices on the plate.

"One is I'll let you ride my thigh." You nodded for him to continue.

"Two, I'll get you off with my fingers. Three, your vibrator. Four I'll let you suck me off at the same time. Six, I'll cum in your mouth, and all seven I'll fuck your face." He listed off, recognizing the look on your face with each level. He knew you too well. You swallowed hard and he flashed a devilish grin.

"Okay, what about those." You nodded toward the full fruits. He held one up.

"If you only eat one of these, I'll have you sit on my face. If you do all the other ones, plus one of these…" He drifted off, trying to keep his face flat, but he was still smirking. Your eyes followed his hand as he put the fruit down and pulled a bottle out of his pocket you had no idea was there. He set it down, the fluid inside was a peachy color…

"I'll use this." Jaemin leaned back against the counter opposite the island as you looked at the bottle.

"Real original. Peach flavored butt lube…" You sighed, but your cunt clenched at the thought. You had been talking about experimenting…

"Okay, deal." You agreed, holding your hand out to shake and he grinned.

"You sure, baby?"

"We'll see." You shrugged, trying to stay nonchalant. You were a little nervous, the last time you had canned peaches, you gagged at the slimy texture. The candies weren't too worrying, the artificial flavor was probably quite different from real peaches. He took you hand and shook it, leaning back again, nodding for you to start. Unwrapping the first gummy, you slid it into your mouth, the sugar decorating the outside rough on your tongue as your teeth sank in. It really wasn't too bad, though you wouldn't go out of your way to buy any.

"One minute." You started, unwrapping the next gummy. After you had chewed and eaten all seven, Jaemin smirked, coming around the island, and pulling off the stool to him. As he brought you to and settled on the couch, he set a timer for seven minutes, cracking some joke about seven minutes in heaven, then hauled you down onto his lap. He groaned exaggeratedly as he pulled you down to seal your lips with his, tongue already snaking its way into your mouth. Your head swam as Jaemin kissed you, he really was too good at it. You felt a bit of saliva drip down your chin, he was rough and noisy. You both were sucking air in harshly through your noses since you couldn't use you mouths, but not wanting to cut short the seven minutes in any way. When his phone alarm went off, his hand buried in your air and forced you to pull back from the kiss. You were both panting, but you were way more than him, with that stupid cocky grin on his ridiculously attractive face. With ease, he stood, you still on his lap. This forced  you to wrap your legs and arms around him with a yipe and he went back to the kitchen, setting you on the island counter. He slid the plate over to you, grabbing a spare plastic fork and handing it over. This was more nerve wracking for you. You pondered if literally swallowing the slices whole would be less skeevy than chewing them since they got kind of rubbery in the can. Taking the first piece, you brought it to you lips, cringing at the taste of the syrup they put in the can to keep them the right texture. Sliding it in, the slippery texture made you gag slightly, so you just bit it in half, then swallowed both pieces. Thinking of it like a medication pill made it go down easier, since those weren't supposed to be appetizing.

"Thigh." He recited, stepping forward even further, standing between your legs where you sat on the counter. You swallowed again, making sure the pieces were done and then proceeded to do it again. The flavor wasn't too bad, but the texture was still unpleasant.

"Fingers." Another, swallowing both halves.

"Vibe."

"My cock." He placed his thumb over your lip, swiping a bit of the syrup away.

"My cum." You licked you lips that time, swallowing hard to get the rest of the sixth piece down. When you finally ate the last slice, he smiled deviously, running his index finger down your throat, as if following the fruit as you swallowed it. Before you could do anything yourself, he pulled away, dashing to the bedroom, coming back out with your butterfly vibrator. He came back over, pulling your butt to the edge, running his hand up your thigh and under your skirt. You shifted so he could flip it up, smiling at your pink panties. He pulled them to the side, your slick letting the silicone head of the small vibrator slide in easily. You shivered a bit as he got it all in and let your underwear settle back in place, the wings of the bottom of the toy cupping your whole cunt. He helped you off the counter, and you got on your knees in front of him. As you pulled his hard cock out of his sweat pants, you whined, lapping up the drop of precum beaded at his head. Jaemin smirked, holding the remote for you to see, then turning it on. Your breath hitched as he increased the intensity, you squatted further so the base of the toy hit the floor, allowing you to press it into your more. Opening your mouth wide, you sat like a good girl as he took his cock in his hand, leading it in. Listening to you breathe roughly through your nose, he kept going, filling your throat with his cock. Your eyes rolled back at the sensation, loving the feeling of your throat trying to accommodate but not gag. Jaemin just held his cock there, your nose pressed to his groin, your hips rutting against your toy. When he could tell you needed to breathe, he pulled his hips back enough to allow you respite, then started to thrust his hips. Every fifth thrust, he shoved his cock as deep as he could, his palm laying over your throat feeling it stretch with his girth. He groaned loudly, he always did.

"Fuck, baby girl~" Your eyes were watering, tears flowing over your cheeks, breaths harsh through your nose and he knew you were close like him. His thumb hit the button the remote again and at the new intensity, you hit your climax, your moan around his cock helping him finish as well. You nearly sobbed as hot, thick spurts of his cum went straight down your throat. It seemed to never end, and your vision blurred from lack of air. Jaemin noticed and pulled halfway out, a few small spurts of cum still leaving his cock, then pulled out completely so you could suck in oxygen. His cock was a mess of saliva and release. Panting from where you squatted on the floor, you watched him shut the toy off, sighing in relief, and he picked up the full peach that time.

"Undress and get on the bed." He ordered and you scrambled to do so, sliding the toy out and throwing it in the bathroom sink. You slid your clothes off and sat at the end of the bed like a good girl, he came in not even a minute later, only in his pants and holding the peeled and cut fruit on a plate in his hand. Setting it down next to you, he went to the nightstand and got the plug you had bought last week.

"Start." You hadn’t made good on the deal yet, but he knew you would. When you picked up the first piece, you were relieved it wasn't nearly as slimy or sticky as the canned stuff, but you were kind of full from the previous parts, as well as what you swallowed of Jaemin's release. You were feeling impatient, so you scarfed it down, shocking him a bit, but you were licking the last of the juice off your fingers when he came to stand in front of you. He had given you the smaller one luckily, so you didn't have much to eat.

"Roll over, get on your knees." He smacked your ass lightly and you crawled up the bed, doing so, face on the sheets, butt in the air. He grinned, your slick folds had dripped down over your pucker. He opened the cap of the bottle, you shivered when the slightly cold fluid hit your rim. You had expected the tip of his finger, or even the end of the plug, but you gasped when instead, his tongue ran around your back entrance. It was peach flavored not just scented.

"Fuck, 'Min." It was an odd sensation, but not totally unwelcome. He noted that the lube had a very artificial taste, he much preferred the real thing, but if it was you he eating instead, that was fine. After a few minutes, he pulled his face away, licking his lips, then picked up the plug.

The toy was pretty small, but he still slathered it in lube, as well as your rim. He watched the muscle flutter around the silicone, and you whined a bit.

"Breathe." He coached and slid the plug into your ass. Your breath hitched, then you sighed and relaxed once it was in.

"How's that, baby girl?" Jaemin stroked the skin of your ass cheek with his thumb, your cunt visibly fluttering.

"W-weird." You admitted, and he hummed.

"Jaemin~" You practically squealed when the head of his dick ran through your slick folds, but he was taking his take actually starting to press in.

"Please!" You wanted to cry, needing him and so he relented, sliding home. You let out a slight choking noise, the burn of his cock stretching you so fast and hard, along with the plug in your ass, was overwhelming. He was nice enough to let you adjust to the new sensation of having something in both wholes, but it always took a while for you to get used to his cock. From behind he reached the deepest part of your cunt, and your tight gummy walls gripped to every ridge and vein of him. There was no verbal warning for him starting, but you saw his hands rest on and grip the head board, prompting you to do the same with the sheets.

"Fuck, princess!" He laughed in glee, not trying to be gentle in any sense, bullying his cock into your pussy as hard as he could, like he was rearranging your insides. Each thrust took your breath away, making you nearly hyperventilate. He was spewing the sweetest filth, praising you and your cute little cunt. How well you took his fat cock, and how much he loved fucking you stupid. You could barely babble in reply, tiny orgasms washing over you over and over.

"J-J-Jaemin-!" You dug your teeth into the pillow, the next wave coming was much stronger.

"Okay, baby girl, cum for daddy~" He chuckled as you whimpered, another hand thrust, and he was even taken away by your orgasm. Your cunt clenched even tighter around his cock than he thought possibly, spurts of slick spilling from your cunt, dripping and puddling onto the sheets. It was too much, too hot, that he made a few more shallow thrusts, then spilled inside you. You milked him dry, it felt like, and it made an even bigger mess. He sat inside you till he had nearly softened all the way, letting you calm down some and slowly pulling out. His finger circled the base of the plug, the end of it had a little emoji peach on it.

"You like peaches now, princess?”

-> Series Hub <-

Master-Master List

NCT Master List

[oopwoop]

Playing Minecraft W/ The SpiderVerse Kids

pairing(s): Miles Morales (e!1610!), Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabhakar, Gwen Stacy

warning(s): swearing! unedited.

i used this site to figure out/decide what type of player they’d be

i’ve been playing a lot of Minecraft recently and thought of what it’d be like to play with them so.. here you go!

Miles Morales (e!1610!)

He prefers Creative over Survival for sure, reasoning: he’s scared of the mobs and refuses to fight them

Plus in Creative it’s a lot easier for him to build stuff because he is definitely The Big Builder or The Decorator. He makes the most outrageous buildings but they look good

Has a whole world full of buildings and stuff. Like, complete towns filled with mansions

Playing with him is a lot of fun though! He’ll come up with build designs with you and you’d work together. If not, the two of you would totally mess around, building things just to blow them up with TNT or set it on fire

Miles is the one to put your beds next to each other. He thinks it’s cute, though he’ll do it without saying anything and if you mention it he becomes a stuttering mess and says he knows nothing and didn’t do it.

If you do end up playing Survival with him he will make you kill all the mobs, no doubt about it. He’ll make the base, probably trade with villagers, farm and kill the animals for food but not much else. He’s too afraid of dying

“Miles, did you put the beds next to each other? Because I know I didn’t.” You snicker teasingly, your character staring at the beds then at his character. You turn yourself to glance at him and notice his eyes are wide and he’s blushing.

“What..? What, me? Nooo.. That’s stupid why would I do that? Maybe you forgot that you did it because I didn’t.” He stumbled over his words, refusing eye contact. It was cute.

“Mhm, okay. Y’know, maybe I did forget. I think it’s a cute idea, though.” You smirked, kissing his cheek before turning back to the screen and continued playing.

Gwen Stacy

I think she’d play Survival and only Survival, claims Creative is for the weak

She goes all out in Minecraft, fighting mobs, getting achievements, going to the Nether, all of that. She’s not afraid

Definitely The Pro or The Achiever. Like I said, Gwen goes all out

She’d forcefully make you go with her, but she’d give you the right equipment needed and pointers on how to fight. If you genuinely don’t want to fight with her she’d have you farm and trade, pretty much do the smaller necessities for survival.

Has finished Minecraft several times, got all the achievements and everything on different worlds, never gets old for her

If you got her to play Creative she’d go on a rampage, killing everything for fun. Or she’d fly around trying to find different biomes

“C’monnn.. it’s not that bad!” Gwen would groan, trying to convince you to go to the Nether with her. “I’ve given all the armor and tools you need! Just try not to die.”

“Try not to die?? It’s the Nether, I’ll die no matter what! I’m not a pro like you. I’m not the one who’s finished this game multiple times.” You gave her an incredulous look, gaping at her words. It’s one thing to not die on the main world, that was usually easy, but the Nether? Yeah right, she’s insane.

“You’re overreacting.. Plus, if I’m a pro, wouldn’t that make you feel better that you’d be with me? Not by yourself.” She chuckled, arguing her point. You just scoffed and told her to go, following in after her.

Pavitr Prabhakar

I see him playing both Creative and Survival. Just really depends on his mood. Either way he’s having fun

He’d be The Zookeeper, collecting animals like Pokémon cards for real. Within the first 30 minutes of playing he already has a house full of cats and dogs, probably three parrots flying around him and is starting an animal farm. How? No idea, he just does

In Creative mode he’d spawn them all, naming all the animals with name tags one by one, even coloring the dog collars too

In Survival he’s taming every animal he sees, using a lead to bring the animal to a fenced in area. There’s one full of cows, pigs, horses, all the usual ones. But he even has them for pandas, camels, and turtles.

He’s also one to place his bed next to you, though unlike Miles, he’s not embarrassed by it, actually stating out loud he’s doing it. No shame at all.

When he’s not collecting animals, he’s following you around. He has no idea where you’re going or what you’re doing but he doesn’t care. He’s following and collecting every flower he sees, claiming he’s gonna make a bouquet for you.

“Hey, Pav? Where’s the- woah what the hell? How do you already have a whole army of pandas? Where’d you even get those from? We’re no where near a jungle..” You questioned, beyond surprise by the sight of around a dozen pandas in a fenced up area. It was even decorated to what a panda would need, looking like a small jungle.

“Hm? You say that likes it’s hard to find them! What’s so bad about it? I think they’re cute!” He smiled brightly, his character jumping around in the area full of pandas. “I have more than just pandas!”

“How?? We haven’t even played for more than an hour! When did you do all this?” While it was probably better not to question him, you needed to know how he did it, and seeing him more than happy to explain made it all the more better.

Hobie Brown (sorry it’s shorter than the rest)

He genuinely does not care if y’all play Creative or Survival, doesn’t matter to him, he’s gonna be a complete menace either way

He’s not any of the type of players listed in the site I used, he doesn’t believe in consistency. He can go from killing mobs to farming. His main goal is to fuck with you though

He never gets you killed in Survival but he will mess around. He’ll hit your character (without a sword or anything) when you’re fighting a mob and run away. It’s like playing with a child

I can see him setting a village on fire and saying something along the lines of “they’re capitalist pigs and deserve to die” or something

All in all, he’s not much of a fan of Minecraft but he’ll play it with you if you ask.

“Hobie, why is there a village on fire? What did you do?” You raised a brow at him, staring at the slight smirk on his face. It was a telltale sign he did it, but you knew it was him either way. There’s no way a village randomly caught on fire.

“What ya mean, luv? Oh, tha’. Yeah I did tha’. Bunch a capitalist pigs, I tell ya. Jus’ doin’ my job gettin rid of ‘em.” He chuckled while setting another village on fire. You didn’t wanna know how many he’d set on fire at this point.

“It’s a game, B. And I need to trade with them, they have good stuff sometimes.” You whined, huffing at him. You know he doesn’t care and will do it anyways.

“Find another one then, luv.”

All of them!

My god is it a nightmare.. first it starts out as an argument, trying to decide whether or not y’all are playing Survival or Creative. Mainly Gwen and Miles though, Pavitr and Hobie don’t care.

After about ten minutes of arguing they decided to ask you, so whatever one you prefer is what y’all played on. Either way one of them is whining.

If you picked Survival it leads to a pouty Miles, complaining how he’s gonna die a lot, and a smiley Gwen.

Within the first day Miles has already made a small base for you guys, Pav has gathered a few animals (he pouted when it was stated the cows and such would be used for food eventually, Gwen was mining for ores, and Hobie was.. being Hobie.

It was surprising to see how smooth everyone seemed to work together for a while, considering before y’all even started playing an argument broke out. Though if y’all could work well together while on mission, why couldn’t you in a game, yeah?

Give it an hour or so.. bickering over stupid stuff is bound to happen.

If you picked Creative, Gwen is whining how it’s for losers, which causes Miles to flip her off and thank you for picking it.

With Creative there’s a lot less arguing and bickering. Though there is much more chaos. Y’all are blowing up everything or settlor on fire for fun.

It started with you all just doing your own thing until randomly Hobie brings up the idea.

“I ‘ave an idea..” Hobie says out of the blue, causing everyone to pause. You all look at him with a face of confusion or hesitation. Whenever he had an idea, it was wild or something went wrong in some way.

“Great.. you have an idea.. does it have to do with the game or real life? Because I don’t feel like blowing up a building in your universe again..” Gwen scoffed, the others nodding in agreement.

“Yeah.. I agree with Gwen.. last time you had an idea we almost got killed..” You chuckled dryly, still traumatized from that.

“Damn, no faith in me at all, huh?” He rolled his eyes. “Yea, in the game.. Don’t worry, don’t plan on killin’ y’all. Woulda done so already if I wanted to.”

That caused another pause in the room, silence too loud. Thank god for Miles for breaking it. “Okayyy… what’s your plan?”

“Well, Gwendy got blowin’ up a buildin’ correc’. Though, I meant in the game. Why not have some fun an’ blow up some shit, or set it on fire, yea?” It was a smart idea, surprisingly. Everyone agreed, just with some terms, mainly Pav and Miles.

“Sounds fun! As long as my animals are safe and out of it, I’m in!” Pavitr stated, Miles nodding in agreement, but for his builds.

“Woah, a surprisingly good idea.. Let’s do it! Let’s blow some shit up!” You poked fun at Hobie, before smiling widely. It concerned the others at how widely you smiled but brushed it off. They agreed with the idea so they must be just as crazy then. With that, buildings were blown up, forests were burnt down. It was so chaotic to the point that the game started to lag and eventually crashed, causing you all to burst out in laughter. Well, it was fun while it lasted.

I apologize for not posting yesterday, but hopefully this makes up for it! It’s longer than my normal posts. I hope you enjoy!

Send requests! Love you!

[lint-beetle4]

Wukong was “watching” the immorality granting peaches and while he’s eating the orchard clean because who thought it was a good idea for him to have this job a pretty but frustrated supervisor in training ( macaque) catches him while doing a check up. Wukong easily convinces the over worked under appreciated monkey to join him in the peaches immortal peach wine and other peach treats he was supposed to protect. One thing leads to another and fueled buy the thrill of potentially getting caught and their long festering feelings for each other ( macaque previously avoided wukongs advancements despite feeling the same for his job but something finally made him snap) the little peach picnic quickly turns into a food play based act of passion where top Wukong finally gets to fuck some fun into the uptight traine showing him that someone finally appreciates what he can do for for them all while showering his unexperienced new partner in the praise and love he’s clearly been deprived of.

So sorry if you prefer shorter prompts

Testing Your Patience (ShadowPeach Fluff (?) and Smut)

(Anon, you have opened the box. Also I added a picture, because this request inspired me way too much. Smut is down below!)

The Six-Eared Macaque was a patient primate. Being in a somewhat regarded rank within Celestial Realm, the stone monkey was in charge of ensuring those underneath him behaved properly.

Yet this ape that they'd brought in?

What a joke.

The 'Great Sage Equal To Heaven'--such a stupid title-- had been tasked to watch over the immortal peach garden, a simple task for a simple monkey.

Normally, Macaque wouldn't think so lowly of a fellow stone monkey, but this case was different. Sun Wukong was just--irritating. He reeked of yang that seldom yielded yin. His smell was just bad in general, considering no one has ever seen the creature bathe before. Just before, that simian had tormented the celestial realm, granted himself and several other monkeys and demons immortality, and stolen from the dragon of the east.

Macaque wasn't paid enough for this--heck, he wasn't even paid.

No, the one trade-off the Six-Eared Macaque had was his position. Being a part of the celestial realm meant you were protected.

Macaque was an intelligent creature. His powers allowed him special leverage, granting him a supervisor position. After all, one wouldn't misbehave if six ears were listening, and one wouldn't dare to act out if their shadow had eyes. Macaque used this to his advantage, whipping newcomers into shape with impressive efficiency.

Yet, Macaque refused to do more than he was good for. He wasn't looking for a promotion. He was looking for stability, and his position allowed him to stay away from the books as well as continue to be guarded by the celestial realm. It was a good trade, if he said so himself.

Sun Wukong was the opposite. Clever yet so stupid, that ape wanted more. If he could, Macaque could swear that Wukong would be the jade emperor himself in his pursuit for power.

Coming into the celestial realm was clearly a ruse of some sort, a stepping stone in some elaborate, foolish scheme in the ginger monkey's endless journey. So far, the stone ape had been in charge of maintaining horses, but it seemed he was far above such a position. Thus, the sage would watch over the immortal peaches.

Macaque didn't believe it for a second. Wukong's actions had proven him to be untrustworthy.

Even then, Macaque had to admit that the stone monkey was strong, stronger than anything he's seen before. It was alluring how such a being could greet gods and the like as if they were friends, how such a simple creature tried to ascend the gates of the heavens simply to laze around all day, how someone who had been nothing but a devilish brute could smile so wonderfully.

Macaque couldn't help but be curious. It was a weakness of his.

Curiosity turned into something else--something deeper, passionate. Macaque couldn't bare the sight of Wukong afterwards, weak to his bright smile and rough embraces. To him, Wukong was the sun--powerful yet tender, friendly yet scalding. He was a walking contradiction toeing the line between a charming demi-god and blood-thirsty king.

Macaque wanted to blur that line further, to see Wukong for more than legends and subjects could speak of.

With a sigh, Macaque faded into the shadows, watching others do their work diligently. Yet, through Wukong's shadow, Macaque was met with a terrible sight.

"You dastardly thing!" Macaque jumped out of his shadows, feeling the claws of anger sink into his skin. "Those peaches are not for you to eat! How dare you steal from the garden with no regard!"

Wukong gazed at the primate, eyes uncaring yet hiding something within them. Macaque didn't care for it, walking up to the guilty simian with a hard glare.

"I hope you know that I'll have to inform the higher-ups about this." Macaque scoffed, feeling his skin prickle at the backlash he was about to receive. "I expected better from someone 'equal to heaven,' but it seems you're the same as the bumbling subjects you guide."

Wukong's eyes widened slightly, shock visible on his face for a mere moment before he stopped Macaque with a nervous grin. "Ah, come on! Don't be like that! Could you really blame me?"

"Don't try to deceive me, Wukong." Macaque snapped, shoving the ginger monkey away. "This is one of the stupidest decisions you could've made. Do you know how long it takes for those peaches to grow--how much is needed for the banquets the higher-ups hold? You've ruined everything!"

"Oh, puh-lease. They can deal without a few peaches." Wukong rolled his eyes, eying the increasingly stressed supervisor. "What's gotten you so worked up anyways? It's not like you're in charge of those things."

"What's gotten--What gotten me so worked up, is that I'm the one who has to take the fall for your mistakes." Macaque yelled furiously, his tail lashing wildly. "I'm supposed to train you to do your job, and the moment I look away, what happens?"

"Oh, only that the Great Sage Equal To Heaven decided the eat every peach in the garden."

Macaque paced around, hands tugging slightly at his hair. "The one job you had was to guard those peaches from thieves, yet you yourself have betrayed your position and endangered mine."

Wukong was silent, staring at Macaque with careful eyes before he lowered his head. With a soft voice, Wukong muttered, "It must be painful to not be seen as important."

"What did you say?" Macaque's head snapped back to Wukong. "Say that again. I dare--"

"It must be hard being looked down like that--having your position mean nothing the moment something unexpected happens."

Macaque gaped at the insolent beast, his expression shifting into a snarl. "You don't know anything about me or my position."

"Sure, I do." Wukong grinned. "You're the Six-Eared Macaque, famous for your near-omniscience and your remarkable shadow magic among other things. Yet, here you are, about to be punished for the mere misdoings of someone unrelated to you."

"It must be a pain-- to never be seen for your true talents." Wukong circled the primate, eyes hungrily gazing at the flustered stone monkey. "But, I see you. I've only heard of your abilities. Yet, I still feel the raw power coming from you."

Macaque swallowed, his mouth gaping as Wukong continued, wrapping his tail around the blushing Macaque.

"I've been interested in you since we've met." Wukong admitted, almost shyly. "I just didn't know how to approach you. You're so...Secretive."

Macaque's heart beat rapidly against his chest, jolting at Wukong's gentle hand on his arm.

"I want to show you just how grateful I am that you trained me." Wukong's voice was even, seriousness in his sultry undertones. "Will you let me treat you?"

"Treat me..?"

Wukong pulled out various wines and left over peaches from his pockets with a sly grin. "It would be mean if I ate everything without sharing, right? How about you relax a bit for once and enjoy what the celestial realm has to offer?"

Macaque hesitated, his eyes darting around the empty garden.

"No one has to know." Wukong assured. "It'll be our secret."

Macaque sighed, his shoulders slumping as he chuckled softly. "You win, Great Sage. Your mouth is as sly as you are. Give me the wine."

In Macaque's opinion, the wine was splendid, even if the monkey wasn't too fond of peaches. Heck, everything tasted better than he expected. Wukong laughed loudly, a bottle sloshing dangerous in his hands, and Macaque couldn't help but smile fondly at the stone monkey.

In the haze of alcohol and the taste of peaches on his tongue, Macaque leaned closer to Wukong, laying his head on the sage's shoulder.

"I wonder how the generals will react when they find out that we've eaten everything here." Macaque chuckled, clenching his hand slightly. "Oh, the trouble we'll be in."

"Who care about that?" Wukong cheered, wrapping an arm around Macaque excitingly. "Let's enjoy the present. Isn't this a great moment to relish in together?"

"It truly is," Macaque sighed, lifting his bottle to the sky with a slight grimace. "A wonderful way to celebrate our execution."

"There you go on again! Always a party pooper." Wukong slurred, leaning dangerously close to the darker monkey. "You need to learn to loosen up a little. Have some fun."

Wukong's hands gently pressed against Macaque's chest, slowly lowering the surprised simian to the ground. "We could topple this whole place together, so stop worrying about the future and focus on the present. The two of us? We're unstoppable."

Wukong's lips crashed into Macaque's, wine being exchanged tenderly. Macaque drank the sweet beverage, holding Wukong closer to deepen the passionate kiss. Wukong's hands slowly removed Macaque's clothes, as he was slowly undressed.

With sharp breaths and lust-driven eyes, the two monkeys lost themselves, tangled in an embrace and fondling hands. Macaque shuddered under Wukong's touch, his eyes averted slightly.

"Liu-Er, look at me." Wukong commanded with a slight smile. "Let me see those beautiful eyes."

"I'm not sure how to do this." Macaque swallowed as his tail twitched with nerved. "I've--I've never--"

"Then let me show you." Wukong pecked Macaque's lips, brief yet filled with love. "Just have fun with it."

Wukong's hands lowered to Macaque's hardening cock, squeezing it playfully as he watched Macaque twitch slightly under his touch. With a grin, Wukong laid a kiss to Macaque's chest, as he stroked the darker monkey's cock. Macaque shuddered once more, his hips bucking into Wukong's hand.

"See? Just like that." Wukong spoke softly, words only meant for the squirming monkey below him. "You look so beautiful like this."

"Wu--Wukong." Macaque moaned, his face flushing with the alcohol and Wukong's tender movements. "Please--Please, I need--"

"Don't worry," Wukong chuckled. "I'll make you feel all better, Liu-Er. Just trust me."

Macaque nodded, shivering as Wukong's hands left his dick.

"I need you to relax, alright?" Wukong whispered tenderly. "It'll hurt if you tense up."

"Just hurry up!" Macaque snapped, yelping as a finger entered his ass.

Wukong smirked, slowly stretching Macaque's virgin hole. As the second finger entered, Macaque's hips bucked up violent, a gasp escaping from him. Wukong smiled, stroking back a stray black hair.

"You're doing great."

Wukong kept hitting Macaque's prostrate, watching as Macaque slowly unfurled, his body moving and squirming with the new pleasure the simian was receiving.

"You're so pretty."

Macaque whimpered as he came, ropes of cum sticking to his fur. Wukong slowly removed his fingers, hands stroking Macaque's hair as he writhed in the ecstasy of his first orgasm.

"There you are--" Wukong smiled, watching as Macaque slowly relaxed. "You did great. Do you want more?"

Macaque panted, nodding enthusiastically. "I'm not finished yet. We're not done until you cum too."

Wukong chuckled. "That sounds like a challenge. Are you sure you can handle me?"

"Try me, Great Sage." Macaque sat up, fire in his eyes as he lowered Wukong onto the ground. "I'll have you screaming my name."

"Brave words for a newbie."

"Bite me."

[stinkypeanutbutter]

BOOM!! Silly Ashden headcanons you plebs 😸😸✊‼️

- Ashlyn is mostly the instigator (or whatever) when it comes to any type of physical affection like hand holding, hugging, or cuddling. It makes her more comfortable if she were to start it rather then it be at random cause Aiden is clingy and touch starved (she’s also slightly touch starved but would she say anything about it? Nawh 😂😂)

They go on silly little dates like walking around the park at night, getting ice cream, watching movies, going to the aquarium (ashlyn likes aquariums because of the colorful fish and the soft bubbly noises they make swimming in the water) and sometimes go to a restaurant, but they usually take the food to go and eat it out at some parking lot or playground.

- Ashlyn prefers to be the big spoon when it comes to cuddling cause she doesn’t want to be like, encased or whatever. (Idk how to describe it but it gives her more free will) Works for Aiden cause he actually likes being a little spoon. They would switch between who’s cuddling who but it’s mostly that.

- Aiden runs on warm, Ashlyn runs on cold. It’s cause Aiden was always too tired to get up and get a blanket that his body succumbed to the cold and made their own way of being warm (I think that’s how it can work?? 🫠) and Ashlyn just gets cold no matter what, despite the warm temperatures she just deals with it. They sorta balance each out when it gets too cold or too warm, like when it’s winter time she’ll probably sit closer to him, even slightly touching his hand just cause of him being a radiator.

In some cases though, Aiden CAN have the hands of a yeti and scare everyone at random times by touching their neck or back (not an Ashden thing but figured i would add it cause I got the idea from someone in the disc. server) , most Tyler just to piss him off.

Ashlyn would do something super badaßß at one point, like beat up a couple bad guys and Aiden would probably say something stupid like “I think I’m in love” and everyone would look at him like “ 😦😦🥺🥺🤯🤯🤨🤨”

They go on double dates with Taylor and Ben ‼️

Aiden takes the time to take a bite of whatever Ashlyn is eating for no reason (Ashlyn is NOT happy 😡😡👊)

Probably would get really invested in a show together and binge it

Aiden vowed to beat her at that one dancing machine game they played at the arcade (has not won at all yet like a loser)

Aiden used to have a habit of not eating or skipping meals (it got better now) but every now and then would focus too hard on something and space out with it so Ashlyn would have to poke him or throw something at him to get him out of his senses and eat

Ashlyn let Aiden drink some of her coffee one time, did not go well (he spat it out cause it was gross)

Ashlyn likes true crime and would have it playing in the background when she does like ballet or homework

aiden goes to every performance Ashlyn has, or swears too and proudly cheers her on.

get ready for some sad ones now!! 👊😔😔👹👹

TW ‼️ : SH , dissociation , ED

Aiden’s scars would show up from time to time, a lot during bad times whether it was when they were having fun or chilling, they would appear. Ashlyn tries not to say anything or mention them because she’s worried about him, and whether she might provoke something on accident. If it gets too bad, she’ll probably call up on his therapist (if he’s willing to actually get one) and offer to clean up the fresh ones despite his denying. He’ll just stare at her as she does this, but always feels closer to her when he comes to terms someone is there to actually care for him

Ashlyn has night terrors quite often, mostly based on the visions of seeing her friends get hurt in the phantom realm and the little sounds that get stuck in her mind. Aiden isn’t always there to help, but will find ways too as by a text message or a gift. When he is there it’s much easier because she’s with her family, and someone she cares quite deeply about. He’ll be there to remind her that they are all okay, and it was all her imagination. .

hopefully.

Aiden dissociates from reality often. He didn’t have anyone to snap him out of his fantasies before with his family being gone so often, sometimes purposely leaving him alone in his room as some form of punishment for failing at something they considered important. He may forgot everyone for a short time, how everything feels around him, even himself if he falls too deep in his own thoughts alone. It’s what he does when he’s upset. With his new buds, it seems that has changed. It would take a while, but hearing their voice or feeling a little touch from them can buzz him back. With Ashlyn, it feels faster, like reality comes pouring back to him as soon as she says or asks anything. If his parents tried, it would take as long as 3-6 minutes. Funny how found family could act more caring then your actual ones. Ben excluded from them, he’s amazing and a great cousin to Aiden 😋😋👊👊

Ashlyn used to have a slight ED. It was started during ballet because of some crappy instructor who insisted on them being skinnier to fit the standards. It definitely affected her view points on herself and brought down her self esteem, trying to lose weight so she didn’t get kicked out of continuing dance. Her parents were able to introduce her to counseling eventually, and she slowly got better over time, even if the feeling never left. Her friends were able to help out in someway, and she appreciated it all. Aiden never had an ED, but did have a habit of skipping meals due to focusing to hard or not feeling it at the moment. Not the same thing, but he was able to make an effort if she ever felt like she shouldn’t eat too much by helping out with small portions, and encouraging her to finish what she can. It didn’t throw the feelings away, but it certainly helped her grow closer with everyone.

Okay idk if I got anything wrong or misled so sorry if I do but uhms later losers 😹😹😹‼️✌️✌️👊👊

[pluto-supremacy]

Can I add to the Hobie dating an autistic person ideas based on my experiences? I'm autistic, my girlfriend isn't but neither of us would be shocked if she was.

Hobie understands that he has to be ultra specific when asking or explaining something to you. He can't be vague about it and say something will take a while, he knows you prefer a specific time.

He finds your stimming cute as fuck, but he's learned quickly to step out the way when you do stim lest he wants to be in the line of fire and accidentally get hit.

Same applies with hands. You gesture a lot with your hands and it gets more animated and crazy when you're excited and you wave then about. The cutest shit ever, not so much when you're eating or prepping food and you have a knife in your hand. A gentle reminder that its okay to stim, but maybe not with a knife or something stabby or fragile in your hand is all that's needed.

Yes, you and Hobie are on the same page 99 percent of the time, but occasionally there'll be miscommunication and what he says and means will be different to what you thought it meant. This is based on me and my girlfriend a few weeks ago. I suggested we "chill out" in her room, hoping she gets the hint. We go to her room and literally chill out whilst watching Bluey. Many laughs and kisses after, it was adorable

Hobie Brown Drabble: cooking rambles with a gn!autistic!reader

➼ I absolutely love these additions to the headcanons! I also talk a lot with my hands and at work and when I’m cooking that includes gesturing with very sharp knives, so- yeah I’m forcing that on our beloved gn!reader. Enjoy this little Drabble based on some of your lovely additions!

➼ I swear I did try my best on the accent-

➼ Sorry that this took a bit longer than I promised! Work has been kicking my ass

➼ No beta we die like uncle Aaron

➼ No warnings! Just fluff here

GIF doesn't belong to me! All credits to the original owner

You treasured nights like these, nights when Hobie wasn’t needed back at Spider HQ. Or just decided not to go. Either way, you enjoyed just being able to lounge around in your shared flat together, bitch about coworkers, turn on a cheesy movie, or your favorite: cook together. Nothing beat a homemade meal in Hobie’s opinion, he just…wasn’t the best at cooking. Wasn’t terrible either, more middle of the road, so he usually stuck to stirring and prepping the vegetables.

Tonight’s menu was grilled cheeses and tomato soup, some nice comfort food. Hobie was buttering up the pan for the sandwiches while you were chopping up some onions, going on about your day. “So then I’m at the counter just trying to ring up her order. Something complicated because of course she just couldn’t have the drinks how they come, each has at least three modifications” you rambled on. You always talked with your hands, gesturing wildly that you sometimes hit people. This was no different.

Apart from the fact that this time you had a knife in your hands.

“Like she wanted no whip on this one, double whip on that one, sprinkles on the other other one” you listed off, tapping the tip of the blade against your fingers without a second thought. Hobie was of course listening, but he had his back turned. At least it was until his Spidey-sense went off. But what could be causing danger-?

Cue you still gesturing with the knife, none the wiser that Hobie, who was once by the stove, had webbed up onto the ceiling and was standing there like a bat. Your eyes had been trained down as you went on. “I was losing my mind! I wanted to scream!” You raised your hands in frustration, and when you lowered them, the knife was gone and in its place? A wooden spoon. “What-?”

“Sorry luv, but I can’t ‘ave you swingin’ that ‘round. Can’t ‘ford a trip to the hospi’al” Hobie said, still hanging upside down on the ceiling but now with your stolen knife in hand. “I fancy ya a bi’ too much to let you ‘urt yourself.”

You could only laugh, setting the spoon down as Hobie finally jumped off of the ceiling, spinning around to land on his feet. “I didn’t even realize I was doing it” you replied, holding your hand out to get the knife back. He shot you a mock skeptical look before handing it back over, now sitting on the counter. “‘S alright swee’heart. Now watch where you’re cu’ing. I wan’ you ta keep all your fingers” he hummed out lowly, watching you get back to work. He always loved watching you talk with your hands and when you would stim, sometimes he just needed to step in to keep everyone safe. Anything for his luv.

[lumienyx]

Could you write something about astarion getting to eat a dish with garlic in it for the first time since he became a vampire?

I assume that the tadpole would let him do that and think getting to experience food youre basically allergic to again is an experience.

Maybe it doesnt taste the way he remembers and doesnt compare to memory (based on my experience with milk based products)

Delectable Treats

A/N: honestly I just wanted to write this exact scene as is but then the idea uhhhhh well it got away from me XD not quite into crack territory (hopefully) but definitely there with a hefty dose of humor and fluff🥺 hope you enjoy✨

Rating: T | Pairing: Astarion/Male Tav | Words: 2,362

Tags: Humor, Fluff, Banter, Astarion Being Astarion, Astarion POV, Appropriate Use of Illithid Parasite Powers

Summary:

Astarion lets out the heaviest sigh he can manage, making it all kinds of dramatic; he has an audience after all. He turns to said audience, looking them straight in the eyes, and says, “Can you believe I’ve been relegated to this? By my own lover, no less.” He only gets a headshake and a slow blink in reply. “Have you nothing to say about my misfortune? At all?"

Or, after a violent altercation that leaves most of the crew dead or incapacitated, Astarion ends up cooking dinner for the newly healed and revivified. It goes as well as you… wouldn't expect, really.

Read on AO3 or under the cut ↓

Astarion lets out the heaviest sigh he can manage, making it all kinds of dramatic. He has an audience after all. He turns to said audience, looking them straight in the eyes, and says,

“Can you believe I’ve been relegated to this? By my own lover, no less.” He only gets a headshake and a slow blink in reply. “Have you nothing to say about my misfortune? At all? And this is after all the treats I’ve given you! Scratch? Tara?”

Scratch barks at him, circling around himself a few times as he wags his tail. Tara keeps staring at him with a calm, collected expression which Astarion can swear is almost sympathetic. She then allows a gentle, drawn-out meow.

“I mean, it’s like we’re just tools for them, aren’t we?” Astarion goes on, lifting the lid to check on his… experiment. Seems fine, for now at least. “You, Scratch, ever bound to chase that muddied pathetic excuse for a ball—remind me to buy a new one next time we’re out, by the way.”

He focuses once more on the spell he has active, heating the metal contraption further as the time is just about up.

“And you, Tara—are you forever fated to hunt down rare scrolls for Gale and be his comfort object?” Astarion goes on. “Well, I mean, that is what cats are—”

Tara cuts him off with a hiss.

“—I mean, tressyms are for, of course.” Tara’s hiss melds into a threatening growl, which Astarion completely ignores. “But me,” he sneers, “cooking? Beyond humiliating."

Scratch barks his agreement. Tara flaps her wings in another half-hearted threat, before sliding closer to Astarion, no doubt asking for apologetic pets.

With another painstaking sigh, Astarion relents, running his hands through her soft fur. Scratch soon joins, too, never one to miss out on affection offered freely, and so Astarion has to alternate between petting them both. As he bakes dinner. For everyone in camp but himself. 

Astarion supposes it's kind of his own fault for not keeping his mouth shut but he prefers to blame everyone else anyway. Shadowheart for casting her new 'blessing' of a protection spell on them before their party left. Clueless herself that the spell would deal damage to her for every wound the targets suffer, and so she just up and died spontaneously while staying back at camp. Lae’zel up next, killed by a far-too-lucky blast to the head. Gale drained dry of almost all life within him with a necrotic energy so strong that Tav's Counterspell did nothing against it. Karlach and Wyll both trapped by Hold Person and hit by a rock—luckily not quite killed, but very much incapacitated.

The Underdark truly was a place too dark and full to the brim with terrors.

Astarion and Tav managed to avoid most of the damage; Astarion by hiding and Tav with a Globe of Invulnerability that came into effect far too late to protect the others. And so, the both of them ended up dragging dead and disfigured bodies of their friends back to camp, where Halsin, a newly resurrected Shadowheart, and Tav tended to the wounded—and Withers to the dead. The quite gory sight made even Astarion uncomfortable, the spilled blood not inducing any hunger, just crippling anxiety for those he has come to call friends.

“I suppose dinner will have to wait,” Halsin says somewhat grimly, somewhat as a joke as he takes in the gravity of the situation.

“If it’s not anything difficult,” some doubtless evil force prompted Astarion to say, “I can take care of that.”

“Can you?” 

“Really?”

And suddenly, Astarion found himself directed to a meager stash of ingredients—because the bigger one is located in Gale’s pocket dimension for preserving any and all food, which they now cannot access with the wizard comatose. It’s how he finds himself here, now, opening the metal contraption serving as a poor substitute for an oven, kept hot continuously by a Heat Metal spell Tav modified to run past its one-minute time limit. Lying there on the makeshift cooking trays is perfectly cooked, aromatic garlic bread along with a few hefty pieces of beef lathered with the variety of vegetables Astarion had found in the stash. He’d thrown in the spices they had as well, and by the way the meat smelled, he’d added just the right concoction of those.

This is absolute insanity, Astarion decides. Though he can’t help but feel strangely satisfied with his efforts. He hopes, though he’s loath to admit it to himself, that Tav enjoys it, at least.

It all starts to seem even more like a fever dream as Astarion returns to the campfire to find all of his companions in an adequate state of healed or revivified. Some drinking water, some leaning hard on the booze. 

“My painkiller,” Wyll insists, holding tight to his wine bottle. 

“Give it back and eat first,” Shadowheart reprimands him, herself still looking more like a walking corpse than a living being. 

It’s then that Astarion cuts in with the announcement that dinner seems to be, by all means, ready.

There’s skepticism, at first. Gale scowls, unable to accept that they decided to ‘trust dinner to a vampire whose diet only consists of blood and self-glorification,’ rather than wait for his rather lengthy return from nigh-eternal sleep. Tav smiles as he cuts himself his share, but the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, the look in them a bit apprehensive. Karlach says, well, they’ve gotten through the sheer hell sprung up on them in the Underdark, they can survive food poisoning, right?

Astarion simply lounges with his head on Tav’s lap in their childish-looking circle around the fire, wishing he could drop dead a second time in his increasingly agonizing existence. Preferably right there on the spot.

Though when Tav runs his hands through Astarion’s hair, the touch soft, and warm, and perfect—Astarion thinks that maybe that’s payment enough for enduring all this slander.

“I’ll remind you,” he says, waving in Tav and Halsin’s direction, “that you explicitly asked for this.”

“Wait, listen!” Karlach’s eyes grow wide. “Holy hells, this is actually good!”

“What?” and that’s Gale, “I don’t believe it.”

“Hm. Neither did I, but by Vlaakith, it truly does taste… palatable.”

“Palatable? The bread is fucking delicious! Astarion, how did you manage it?”

“Is it a flavor illusion?”

“Did you steal it?”

“Did you hire one of your ghouls to do it?”

“No, ghouls wouldn’t know how to cook, Tav, stop acting the idiot. But maybe he has some imprisoned, tortured chef we’re unaware of?”

“Honestly, sweet Shadowheart.” Astarion lifts his hand to his chest in mock offense. “I would never stoop so low.”

“Then how?” Gale frowns, chewing slowly, so evidently confused as to why he isn’t disgusted by it.

Astarion only grins. “Trade secret.” Mentioning nothing of how he was himself quite concerned about the end result. He hasn’t cooked anything in hundreds of years—what felt like eternity, really. 

But there was a time—and the memory of that time is too precious and painful to be lost even to Cazador’s hold. A time when his mother fell ill of a magical ailment that required a most complex and lengthy treatment. When his father was ever so busy with magistrate business, begging his only son to support his mother in any way he could at home while he worked his way up, growing desperate as their family fortune dwindled. And so, Astarion had to learn to cook from scratch, opting for baking and boiling with just the right concoction of spices to make even laughably simple meals tasty nonetheless. Something his mother could stomach even during the most severe fevers and his father would eat cold as he returned from late nights at the office. Astarion barely remembers either of their faces, barely allows himself to utter their names in his mind, but these flashes of memory stay etched too deep into his brain to be forgotten.

“Well, I admit it,” Wyll says then, returning Astarion’s attention to the present. “I owe you an apology for the mistrust, Astarion. But I honestly thought this would taste like ashes in my mouth.”

“It would only taste like that to me,” Astarion says, “don’t you worry.”

“Oh!” Tav throws him a strange look. Astarion still can’t quite get used to the beauty of those eyes, especially as they reflect the firelight, blue and green reflecting the flame’s auburn hue. “I just wanted to offer you to try. I—I forgot, sorry.”

Astarion shrugs. “No need to apologize, darling,” he mutters, “it's my burden to bear.”

“But it’s literally melting in my mouth, it’s that good!” Karlach persists, quite loudly.

“I’d say it might just be because of the…” Shadowheart motions at the entirety of Karlach. “The heat, but I agree.”

And so commences another round of compliments Astarion can’t quite deny are lifting his mood.

Well. Seems like he’s valued after all. He sees Scratch and Tara watching him through half-lidded eyes as they doze by the fire. Envious, no doubt.

“Listen,” Tav says suddenly, putting away his plate, the food just half-finished.

Astarion asks, “Something wrong?” from where he’s still resting on Tav’s lap.

“Not at all.” Tav has that dangerous glint in his eyes, the same one he gets when he’s describing a new terrifying way he’s bent metamagic to do his (sometimes downright insane) bidding. “I was just thinking.”

“Quite dangerous for us all,” Astarion remarks, lifting himself up to sit facing his lover, “if you’re thinking of doing something… questionable again.”

“When have I ever made a so-called ‘questionable’ choice, love?”

“Oh! Remember that time you crushed me—and Gale by the way—with that bloody sun temple?”

“Anyway.” Tav averts his eyes. Astarion is glad to see he’s still embarrassed about that particular debacle. “What I was thinking is that… the tadpoles allow us to read each other's thoughts, yes? And use the other’s senses—I mean it worked when I showed you your face, right?”

Astarion’s already slow enough heart skips a drawn-out beat as he remembers. Connected to Tav’s mind, resonant with his soul, seeing through his eyes: a reflection Astarion has all but forgotten. Silver curls framing a face that seemed so new yet painfully familiar. Red eyes staring back at him—a prettier shade than the gory blood-red he’s always imagined.

“I remember,” he says, “how could I forget? You insist on showing it to me every day.”

Tav smiles. “Because it makes you happy.” And Astarion can’t help but smile in turn. It does.

Tav opens his mouth as if to say something, then thinks better of it. Chews on his lip, considering. Then finally asks, “Let me in?”

Astarion frowns at the proposition, still unsure of what Tav has on his mind. But he’s long gotten over the initial distrust he harbored. There really is no going back, Astarion supposes, now that he’s shown his cards and revealed just how much he cherishes Tav, relishes his closeness. How thankful he is for Tav's painfully earnest sympathy regarding Astarion’s past interfering with the present. His patience is another precious gift, as Astarion grows used to the simplest touches once more, just now comfortable with all kinds of intimacy that don’t quite lead further, thoroughly enjoying the chastest of kisses.

And so, “All right,” Astarion says. Closes his eyes and opens his mind to Tav’s.

It feels familiar, a rush of warmth that makes him shudder. A foreign presence in his thoughts that’s welcomed, because it comes with peace and no hint of deception.

“Open your eyes,” Tav prompts, then. Astarion does—only to see Tav offering him a piece of the garlic bread from his plate.

“I can’t—”

“Just try it.”

Frowning, quite confused, Astarion still accepts the piece. Takes a tiny bite and—

“Oh.” His eyes grow wide. “Hells. What the?..”

“It worked?” And Tav is smiling at him, that childlike joy illuminating his face as it so often does. “I supposed that the senses we share through the connection aren't just limited to sight. It could be taste as well. How is it?”

“Erm,” Astarion himself is quite speechless, too focused on the taste buds that are finally working the way they’re supposed to. The bread is sweet-tinged with a slightly salty base, so soft it melts on his tongue, buttery but not overly so. “It’s. Well. Uh. I can taste it. ”

“You can.”

“It’s… strange. Such a… unique flavor. I don’t even have a memory to compare it to,” Astarion muses, treating himself to another bite. "It's quite like I'm trying it for the first time." He mirrors Tav’s smile unconsciously, feeling a giddy kind of happiness bubbling in his chest. He can’t quite tell whose it is. Maybe it stems from them both. “But actually—it’s delectable, if I say so myself.”

“See what I mean?” Gale grumbles from someplace too far off to bother Astarion’s reverie. “Thrives on self-glorification.”

“Thank you, my love.” Astarion leans in for a gentle kiss. Draws it out, moving his lips softly against Tav’s, melding their thoughts so that what forms is one unified feeling of contentment. Happiness. Love—the most delightful gift Astarion’s been given. “Still, you make my life all the better,” Astarion whispers as he draws away. “You treat me so kindly and yet ask for no favors in return. I’m feeling increasingly guilty about it, truth be told.”

“Don’t.” Tav shakes his head. “You don’t owe me anything. Your happiness is a reward precious enough.”

“And how do I make you happy?” Astarion demands. “Right now, this very moment?”

Tav sneaks a glance at the others, who are all doing a rather piss poor job of ignoring Tav and Astarion’s little moment of closeness.

“Let’s get away,” Tav suggests, voice barely above a whisper. “Enjoy dinner in private. If I get a few more of those kisses out of you—I might just be the luckiest person alive.”

“Darling.” Astarion grins at the idea, though Tav must already feel his excitement through their connection. “Nothing would please me more.”

~~~

thank you for the read💙 I'd love to hear your thoughts if you enjoyed it!🥺

tag list (lmk if you'd like to be added!):

@spacebarbarianweird, @satanicspinosaurus, @tallymonster, @tragedybunny

[martianbugsbunny]

To Convince You That I Love You (A Kalluzeb Fic): Chapter 3

*sheepishly* okay so I just forgot to post this chapter, the whole thing is a prisoner of the Notes folder but it's done except for proofreading/polishing. I'm very glad somebody happened to like one of the previous chapters today because otherwise I may never have remembered! Anyway, here's the next installment, read on and enjoy!

Zeb continued to pace once they were back at base. Kallus went into surgery immediately, what else was Zeb supposed to do? Hera had to give the mission report to the rest of Yavin’s leading council, and Sabine had gone to the mess hall to get food, but Ezra and Kanan joined Zeb in his waiting.

He knew he should feel grateful that he wasn’t alone...instead, he was annoyed that they were able to sit on the floor and meditate while Kallus, for all they knew, was dying.

He was very tempted to kick the kid as he passed by.

After a while, even pacing wasn’t enough. “He’s driving me crazy,” he started. Kanan opened his eyes and leaned forwards a bit. Ezra tried to keep his meditation pose, but his head turned towards the sound of Zeb’s voice.

“It wasn’t like this before, was it?” Zeb didn’t wait for an answer. “He used to be sensible—well, as sensible as Kallus gets. A couple months ago something changed.”

“Maybe he’s taking his emotions onto the field,” Kanan suggested. Kallus didn’t usually; his ISB training was enough to keep him from letting his feelings get in the way.

Besides, what could possibly have happened that not one of the Spectres was aware of? Surely one of them would have noticed if Kallus was being targeted by one of the many Rebels who loathed ex-Imperials.

“Maybe he has something to protect he didn’t have before.” Sabine offered her opinion as she entered, arms full of food. She kicked Ezra (lucky girl) to get his attention and handed him a bowl of stew. However irritating Yavin’s humid weather was, there were a lot of substantial plants to make food with, and swamp creatures for those who didn’t mind a tougher cut of meat.

Ezra only inspected his stew for a moment, to make sure there were no visible scales, before digging in. Zeb felt torn between wanting to eat until he couldn’t breathe and having no appetite at all. What was with him? He wasn’t like this most of the time.

Sabine shoved a mug of cold juice into his hands. “Has he been seeing anyone?” she asked.

Zeb felt the cold from the drink spike up through his hands, into his arms, heading directly to his chest. Suddenly he didn’t care about eating, one way or the other—he wanted to throw things, to swear, to dig his claws into a thick tree. Of course that was it. The most ridiculous, preposterous, insane thing in the galaxy and he believed it instantly: he loved Kallus.

The idea of Kallus loving someone else, loving someone else so much he drove himself to the brink of death to protect them, was painful. Only unrequited love hurt that much.

Zeb finally stopped pacing. A different kind of dread had settled into him, and he deeply wished it hadn’t. He preferred worrying about Kallus’s life to worrying about his heart.

When the medic came and told them that Kallus was going to survive, Zeb couldn’t help going in to see for himself, his relief that Kallus was alright the only thing stronger than the new grief overtaking him. He felt an ache of longing for just an hour ago, when his protectiveness of Kallus hadn't felt like an intrusion into a part of Kallus's life where he wasn't welcome; where somebody else filled the role Zeb only now realized he wanted with his entire being to fill himself.

As he watched Kallus sleep the unnaturally deep sleep of the injured and drugged, Zeb could only stand helplessly by as his desire to safeguard Kallus wrestled with the sinking feeling that he was utterly out of place.

[themimsyborogove]

idk if ur still taking requests/ideas or not, but if so, do you think you could write a little something about Magnus taking in a young warlock and teaching them magic, like how Ragnor did all those years ago with him?

I’m sorry this took so long, anon. I hope you’re still around✨

——

Crickets chirped loudly from their hiding places, and a breeze blew across the crowded alley holding the Kyoto Shadow Market, raining bright fall leaves onto the stalls. Magnus generally preferred to come to Kyoto in spring time, when it was the cherry blossoms shedding their petals like a warm pink blizzard, but fall certainly had its charms as well.

He stopped to examine a stall selling fruit and flowers gathered from the parts of Faerie more easily accessed from gateways in Japan, and harder to find in New York. He was contemplating the flowers, trying to determine which he might need for potions in the near future, when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.

Magnus grabbed the hand before it could reach out and snatch one of the fruits. “I wouldn’t do that,” he murmured, soft enough that only the would-be-thief could hear. “Stolen faerie food isn’t safe to eat.”

“Let go of me, asshole!” the girl he had grabbed said in the kind of stilted English that had likely never been used outside of a classroom full of kids giggling over swear words they had learned to fluster the teacher. She was wearing a school uniform track suit with a huge scarf wound around her neck.

Magnus steered the girl away from the faerie stall before she could draw more attention to herself.

“Is this your first time in a Shadow Market,” he asked, switching to Japanese.

The girl looked relieved and stopped trying to struggle out of his grip. “I didn’t know where to go. I saw lights I had never seen before, and I followed them here.” Her free hand reached up to touch the scarf around her neck, bulkier than the material should have been, and Magnus had an inkling of what the answers to the rest of his questions were going to be.

They had broken out of the thickest part of the crowd, and Magnus spotted a stall selling noodles, the stools around the bar-like table shielded by a half curtain.

The girl watched him warily as he ordered two bowls of noodles and gestured for her to sit down. “I don’t have any money,” she said.

“I know,” Magnus replied. “It’s obvious that you’ve never tried to steal anything before. If you’d had money, you would have used it. Sit down, you must be hungry.”

The girl sat and looked between her bowl of noodles, topped with a thin slice of fried tofu, and the fox-like faerie who had served them to her. “Kitsune udon,” she muttered under her breath, with the air of someone still astonished to find out how much of their folklore was based on truth. “I never thought about why it was called that.”

“Do you have a name?” Magnus asked. She might not yet, depending on how long it had been since she found out what she was. Magnus hadn’t for a long time in the gap between the normal child he thought he had been and the person he had found himself to be.

“Aoi,” the girl mumbled, swallowing a mouthful of soup. She ate slowly, Magnus noticed, taking a long time between one bite of food and the next. He also noticed that she hadn’t removed her scarf, despite the warmth of the noodle stall.

“I’m going to make a guess, and I want you to tell me how close I am,” Magnus said. “Something about you changed suddenly, and frightened you so badly, you ran away. Kyoto is filled with foxfire lights, which you were suddenly able to see. You followed them here and found yourself surrounded by all manor of things you thought only existed in stories.”

Aoi nodded, something about the movement awkward and uncoordinated. “I turned into a monster,” she whispered.

“Not a monster,” Magnus said gently. “A warlock, a magic user, like I am. Warlocks bear marks showing what they are,” he gestured at his own cat eyes, “but sometimes the marks and the ability to use magic don’t come until a child is older.” Aoi look like she was thirteen or fourteen. Old for a warlock mark to manifest, but not unheard of.

“It was my school trip. Everything was normal, and then suddenly it wasn’t,” she said. “They all screamed when they saw me,” she added in a strained whisper.

“No one here will scream,” Magnus said.

Aoi unwound her scarf, revealing an elongated neck, coiled around itself like a snake, that she had done her best to hide under the fabric. She watched Magnus warily, like she still expected him to scream and run for the hills. When he didn’t, she relaxed a little.

“How did this happen to me?” she asked.

Magnus sighed. “Warlocks are children of humans and demons. The demonic blood is what marks us and gives us the ability to use magic, but it doesn’t make us monstrous or evil. No more than any other person at least. Some demons can shapeshift. It’s likely your mother never knew what had happened.”

Aoi scrubbed a hand over her eyes, wiping away the tears before they could fall. “I can’t ever go home.”

“Do you know that for sure?” Magnus said gently. “You said your warlock mark appeared during a school trip. There’s a chance your family will still welcome you home.” It happened, sometimes, to warlocks who were lucky.

“Did your family welcome you?”

“No,” Magnus said. “But I have friends who grew up loved, despite what they are. The choice is yours. If you want to return home, I’ll go with you and help explain your situation. If you would rather stay here, I’ll teach you how to navigate the Market and how to glamor yourself so normal humans won’t notice your warlock mark.”

“I want my mom,” Aoi said in the kind of small plaintive voice that made her sound very, very young.

Magnus waved his hands, a Portal forming right inside the curtain of the stall. The kitsune behind the counter glared at him. Most Downworlders considered it rude to open Portals in the middle of the Market. Magnus ignored him and stood up.

“Then let’s go and hope for the best,” Magnus said. “Think of home and this will take us straight there.”

Aoi’s eyes went wide with awe. She looked down at her own hands. “Will I be able to do this kind of magic?”

“With enough time and training,” Magnus said. “Being a warlock isn’t all bad,” he added with a wink. “Now think about home.”

Aoi wound her scarf back around her coiled neck, took a deep breath, and led the way through the Portal.

[moonshinemusings]

This blog *-* Can I have a headcanon for Price ? The ones for Soap and Alejandro are ghgffhh <3

Hello there! I'm really glad you like my blog, thank you! Here are some headcanons about our favourite Captain :)

---

General John Price headcanons (Pt.1)

Warnings: slight mentions of PTSD, depression (?), smoking, canon typical violence

A/N: This turns pretty grim by the end, but I hope you still like it!

• This man watches football whenever he can and he's been at matches quite a lot in his life. He took Gaz with him a few times, even Laswell once

• Sometimes he snores like a dad and Gaz needed several days to get used to the sound in order to sleep when they started working together

• Tells horrible dad jokes all the time and he knows most of the guys hate them, but won't stop

• Coughs like his lungs will collapse but somehow he's healthy

• His knee always crunches like it's about to break

• He's mostly unperturbed by all the carnage and violence by now, but he saw a baby being born once and almost fainted and threw up

• In full honesty he doesn't mind cheaper cigars, but he likes to fuck with everyone by acting like he hates them

• The smell of the smoke on his breath/clothes is really noteable but he doesn't care

• Has a high alcohol tolerance. The only way you will know if he's getting tipsy is by noticing the subtle change in his accent to deeper and more slurred words. If somehow he's really gone, then you will know by the little red tints on his cheeks (which are mostly hidden by his facial hair, but you can see it up close)

• Not an early bird. He tends to be grumpy in the mornings, but if you give him coffee it's gonna be fine

• Which reminds me: his preferred drink will always be a good whiskey, but he usually downs anything he has to (coffee, tea, those horrible protein shakes, vitamin mixes and so on)

• Occasionally reads, mostly classics or novels

• Prefers salty food over sweet

• The secret of the facial hair? Patience and genuine care about his appearance. He shaves for like an hour every time because he doesn't want to ruin his mustache/beard (Alex is the same damn way I swear)

• He likes jazz music and 80's rock. Sometimes he blasts those horrendous English raps too because he knows the others hate it (sorry if I insulted anyone lol)

• Thinks pineapple on pizza is hideous (Soap loves it lol)

• He's had so many broken bones in his life, he has no idea if there is any in his body that he didn't destroy at least once yet

• He doesn't really like action/military based movies because of the unnecessary violence in them. They remind him of things he doesn't want to remember too much. He'd rather watch shitty romantic movies or even comedies, but he won't be caught dead while laughing at them. He also tends to laugh while watching horror movies, but the heavy gore can remind him of bad memories

• He doesn't care about social media or any of that stuff really. Sometimes Gaz shows him stuff like cat videos because he loves them. Everything he knows he got it from Kyle tbh

• He has no fashion sense whatsoever. Outside of work he either looks like a dad on vacation, or still wears too much stuff similar to his gear that he seems to be going back to work in 10 minutes

• He likes fuzzy socks btw

• Adores big dogs, he can just wrestle with them and when they lay on him it makes him feel centered and comfortable thanks to their weight

• Unreasonably good at poker and he has the highest record with like 2 wins behind Laswell (who he just can't beat)

• He can handcraft a bunch of stuff if you give him a piece of wood and a knife. He made little figures for Gaz and the guy kept them as lucky charms over the years

• He doesn't fuss around too much about food and he's not picky. Whatever he gets, he gets, and that's fine by him (he used to live off worst stuff anyways). He loves meat though, a nice steak always puts him in a good mood. Also probably makes mean bbq

• Drinks beverages like orange juice or even milk straight out of the carton

• He's a man who always keeps his promises. Not one to lie or feed half truths, he always straight up says everything he has to

• Has a collection of weird/dumb looking beanies he has received over the years from his team

• He met Kate's wife once and she made him feel like family in the best way possible. He was glad his best friend had such a great person in their life that they could go home to

• Very protective of his men. He has lost too many friends and doesn't want to lose anyone else

• His biggest fear is ending up alone, watching everyone he loves die

• Every man he has lost weights heavy on his shoulders. He remembers their faces, but not all their names which makes him feel even more guilty

• Tends to bottle up his emotions and act like everything is fine. Sometimes he breaks down seemingly out of nowhere, but only when he's alone

• Kate is his closest friend and when it gets really bad, she's the one he seeks out

• He has occasional nightmares just like everyone else, but feels like he's dealing well with them (mostly he does)

• He has a watch he got from Soap as a birthday gift once. He only wears it outside of work because it's too important for him to get it damaged in any way

• He rarely has free time or time away from work, but he gets the most out of it. He has a few safe houses, but prefers to spend his time in one in particular because it has all his personal belongings he has left

• At first he thought the "you're everyone's father" was a joke, but then he realized how genuinely they meant that and he kind of broke down. He didn't think he deserved that amount of deep affection and what came with a title such as that, but it made him feel unexplainably happy at the same time

• He's not sure if he ever wants a family. He knows the military is his life and would never leave it behind, unless he has to retire because he can't keep up anymore (even then, only if they force him). The idea of having someone who loves him waiting at home brings warmth to his chest, but he's not sure if he deserves it. He doesn't want to taint anyone with his hands that hold so much blood on them

[jewbeloved]

OKAY, I DEFINITELY HAVE AN OBSESSION WITH SOUTH PARK AND THE CHARACTERS-

And the main four, Craig's team...WAS BOTH AMAZING!!! I love the way you make them and it feels so canon, btw they are such sweethearts. 😊

Okay, so the same with the same Craig team (The tall, 1 year older, rich male reader) that loves to help, like he is smart, DAMN. He gonna help when they are tired, or too hard/difficult for them. He has good stamina and is strong so he gon do them fast and good, so no worries. He even tends to look after others' troubles, health, and safety. 😇

Here's his style for today:

I swear if Clyde or others will want this type of clothes, they better tell him, he going to explain everything and show the matches and ideas. Even gonna take them to the mall for shopping anything they want and he'll buy it. (They better be careful, cause if they look at one stuff with a little interest and won't say that they want it, boom it magically appeared in the shopping list)

-The part where the male reader cuddles them is adorable, but he is tho really playful. He gonna play dead and a victim till they relax they grasp and boom he's on top of them and ain't letting them go for a long time😭-

Quick question! What's your style? :) (Mine is baggy, oversized clothes, but sometimes I like to try other types of ones and go with it. :D)

OMG, I WROTE TOO MUCH I'M SORRY, THE EXPLANATION GOT THE BEST OF ME! T-T

Omg, this photo is breathtaking. HE'S STUNNING.

Team Craig with a hard-working male s/o🌸🌸💖💖💖

To answer your question, I like wearing oversized clothing such as hoodies! They're really comfortable for me🥰🥰

I mostly like wearing shorts because I prefer them over pants to be honest-

Also no worries! You are free to write as much as you want I don't mind🎆

Warnings: None

Gender: Male

💙💜 Craig and those guys ❤️💛🤎

Please, they admire how hard working you are!

If you keep this up, Clyde is definitely gonna ask you to baby him all the time. The others might roll their eyes at him doing that though.

They really don't mind If you're 1 year older than them tbh. At least you wouldn't become like the 6th graders If you were older than that.

On certain bases, they really appreciate your help whenever they need it.

Craig is already good at taking care of stripe, but sometimes when he's sick or feeling under the weather. He wouldn't really mind the extra help when it comes to that.

Token might have a library in his house considering how rich he is. So sometimes he might need some help organizing the books he used back in their proper spot If he forgets where they are supposed to go.

Clyde might maybe make up excuses to get you to help him a lot like If he can't find something of his he will ask you to help him look. At least he knows his s/o is willing to help him If he really has a problem and he needs help.

Tweek only looks after the coffee shop whenever his parents are on their break or doing something else like on a date. But he is absolutely impressed on how you can take a bunch of orders from customers and bring them their food in just one go.

You don't really help Jimmy that often since you believe that even If he is disabled, he can still do normal stuff that everyone can do. But when it comes to stuff like taking the elevator, etc...that's mostly the time where you will step in to help him.

And If you're a clean freak or just good at cleaning in general, they are surprised by how spotless your house will be or Tweek's parents coffee shop.

You're such a hard worker. They might be a little jealous of you for that. You probably might even inspire them to work harder just like you!💛🤎❤️💜💙

Sorry this is late 😣

[mystifiedmess]

hey ash xD

4, 8, 18 and 25 for the ask game

heyyy abiii 

4. favourite dish specific for your country?

oh so okay, theres a lot of them tbh that i love- kheer, chole bhature, dosas, love all the chutneys (there are so many of em and each one more whack combos that somehow work -my mom recently made an amla/gooseberry/ and coconut that has now become my fav way to have amla) but my favourite dish specific to my country, and esp culture has to be 

litti chokha- its this bihari dish thats made of two segments litti- doughballs with roasted chana(chickpea) filling aka sattu with a thousand other things added that i can never fully get, just know they taste delish  

and chokha which is baigan ka bharta (brinjal bharta) 

there are so many side pairings to it but the base is imo this and its pretty yum and unique on flavor pallet 

8. do you get confused with other nationalities? if so, which ones and by whom?

i feel like, i’m not online enough  to talk to people that they can imo even get the wrong nationality idea and despite my idk why in the middle of 2022 ways to text like a brit with babes, mate and all the xx. the most i’ll feel like i have seen is browns getting confused for each other countries. so many times i have seen something that i think is for indian and then realize its pakistani/bangladeshi/ nepali scene.

which makes all this hostility online so much more dumb when you think about it.

18. do you speak with a dialect of your native language?

ooof so like, my native language is sorta hindi, its complicated cos younger generation pretty much uses hindi 80% of the time and even my parents wil unless back in home state prefer speaking hindi, mom prefers it there also. but then there is this another language that dadi/ nani an all do speak that i can understand but not really speak i can try but it doesn’t feel good enough so maybe? idk is the answer. if we take hindi then yes but thats kinda cheating soo uhh i’ll let you be the judge

25. would you like to come from another place, be born in another country?

finally asking the hard hitting questions huh abi

the clusturfuck of emotions this country gives me is a case study in making or a visit to therapist couch whichever comes first 

while you definitely know that india is not the best, you still feel for it like i want to it do better so i’m not dissapointed in it. like every indian mom even i’m like you better pick up after yourself india. i also still randomly play ae mere watan ke logo and get emo about it around 15 august 

i’m also very weirdly nitpicky about other countries. like won’t find my fav street food level nitpicky but then job opprtunities is something i cant overlook so theres that 

also 5 paragh’s in i realised that i read this q wrong so uhh like answer to that is actually no i would like to be born in a better india but this diversity, this crazyness is something that i love about this country so much. 

coming from delhi, i love that to be the girl who swears like a sailor at anyone but then will see someone in need of help and be like yeah sure.

the catty gossip aunties who will show their nice side once every blue moon and you’ll remeber shit i can’t completely hate them 

the paani pilana culture, food as love language and all the scoldingd that hold the love, the incredible culture that is just so rich that i don;,’t understand yours and you dont understand mine but thats okay cause the amul add is still universal. 

its that india i cannt part with  

[bitchfitch]

Anyways since it's not common knowledge that you can get into doing stained glass really easily nowadays i thought I'd go ahead and put together a quick and dirty explanation on it. Prices are given in USD and are based on how much they cost at my localish stained glass shop in jul 2022 but all items can be gotten at larger craft stores or online.

Hobby Lobby has an extensive stained glass section usually. They also have coupons and don't put barcodes on their merchandise so they don't always track their stock super well. do with that last bit of information what you will

skip to the bottom of you just want to see steps

Supplies:

Mandatory Tools, buy these once and never again (unless they break or somethin):

Glass cutters: Pencil grip if you're confident in your hand strength, Pistol grip if you have joint issues (most of the folk i know irl that are into stained glass are arthritic and swear by the pistol grips, do with that tinfo what you will)

Pliers: You'll need 2 types, grozzier pliers and curved jaw pliers. these are not the same as the pliers you use in most other applications. you can usually get both bundled with a glass cutter for less than 30$

Soldering Iron: Get one that comes with a soldering station and a flat chisel shaped tip. Weller is the industry standard. 40 bucks.

semi optional: a wet grinder: not 100 percent necessary but it makes life a hundred times easier and lets you do more complicated shapes with less skill than you would need otherwise, so I'm putting it here. It's vital that it's a wet grinder because aerosolized glass dust is bad for your everything. 90$. if you don't get a wet grinder you will just need some 400 grit or higher waterproof sandpaper. Wet sand your pieces. Do not dry sand.

70-190$ to start

consumables:

Glass: comes in two main types, Translucent/Cathedral, and Opaque. From there there are Many variations including waterglass and iridescent glass. Prices range from 8$ a square foot up to a couple hundred for handmade artisan stuff, but most seem to be between 10$ and 20$ 1 square foot of glass goes further than you think it will

Solder: Must Be Acid Free. Solder with an acid core is really common because that's what's used in every other application. it will not work for stained glass. Solder comes in 4 main types but there's plenty of others out there: lead free, 60/40, 70/30, and 50/50. Get 60/40 to start out unless the lead scares you, then get lead free. (the lead content in solder is not dangerous so long as you aren't regularly licking the final product/using it for food. The fumes can cause migraines tho so ventilation is a good idea) 26$ per pound, goes a long way

Flux: any solder flux will do, 4$ lasts forever

glass cutting oil: it's what it says on the tin, use this with the glass cutter to make it work. 10$ per bottle lasts forever.

copper foil tape: used to make the solder stick to the glass. comes in may sizes, just grab one that's thicker than your glass and Feels right. what width you use is entirely personal preference on anything that's not too big. 7$

Homasote/compressed cellulose fiber board/ cork/ ceiling tiles/ drywall/ plywood: You're going to need something to solder and pin your glass pieces on, any of these will do. All of them are reusable but you will probably need to cut them down to more comfortably fit your project which is why I'm putting them here instead of the buy them once category. 69¢ for the cieling tiles to like 50$ for a sheet of homasote get whatever is easiest/cheapest. or solder on a heat proof surface you already have.

tarnish/patina: the solder will naturally turn black overtime but it won't look pretty while doing it. you either need to clean it regularly or just accept that it will tarnish and do the work for it. Tarnish commonly comes in black and bronze. don't let these get on your skin. it won't hurt but prolonged and repeat exposure is a cancer and chemical burn risk. 11$

~100$. everything besides the glass and solder will last a couple dozen projects at minimum, most will last Mucho longer.

optional:

Nick's Grinder's Mate. it's a special made item for stained glass grinding but if you don't like your hands getting wet or have issues with your hands it makes the process So Much Easier.

Metal or glass head sewing pins. they're used to help hold your glass in place while soldering many people don't use them at all.

plastic waffle grid: it catches the tiny little glass shards that flake off while cutting. It just makes clean up much much Much easier and reduces the amount of shards that end up on the floor and in your feet (please wear shoes while cutting glass, i don't, but you should.)

Safety:

Eye protection, you don't need anything super extreme but yeah glass shards bad.

gardening gloves with thick palm and finger protection to reduce cuts and handle pieces during soldering.

bandaids, glass cuts don't usually hurt but they do bleed. think paper cut in terms of severity.

additional bits you probably already have:

scissors, paper, sharpie or dry erase markers, glue sticks

Basic process

find or draw up a pattern

make 2 copies of it, one to use as reference one to cut up and glue to your glass as a pattern. Alternatively you can trace your pattern onto the glass if you'd rather not use the paper

number the pieces on both the glass and the pattern to avoid having to do a broken glass jigsaw puzzle.

score the glass

use the pliers to break along your score lines

wet sand the sharp edges or grind to final shape

(if you're starting with a pre cut kit which are apparently becoming more common, skip to here) clean the pieces to remove grunge so the tape will stick

wrap edges in copper tape,

burnish them to smooth out the foil, i just use the handle on my scissors

arange the pieces in their final shape, pin them if desired.

coat the copper tape in flux and tack the joints together with solder.

run a bead of solder along the lines.

flip the piece and repeat 10 and 11

cover the edges.

add tarnish if desired.

ooh and ah over your final piece.

Full Written Instructions Here

YouTube channels for English instructions and demonstration (if you have non English recommendations please let me know so I can add them):

SunBearGlassCraft / ALEX GREENFIELD

Stained Glass For Dummies PDF

[olderthannetfic]

it’s funny, i was just having a series of conversations about body image that remind me of the discussions going on here.

i have a friend who recently moved into the field of dietetics (which i was fully prepared to judge her for until i heard her philosophies about the whole thing). we had a long talk about how she wants to start a practice based on the idea that health is not a size issue, that it looks different for everyone, and how she wants to help people work towards the goals of 1) eating 2) eating *enough* 3) eating *well* and 4) feeling good in their bodies, both physically and emotionally. she wants to ask her clients questions like “what would you like your body to be able to do? how would you like your body to be able to support you in the life you’re building?” and focus on making sure they feel as good as possible, first and foremost, for as long as possible. her approach would take things like food insecurity, disability, mental health, etc. into account. i was really impressed and we brainstormed a lot of language about food as a love language and how that translates to self love and self care.

i had another talk with another friend about desirability politics and body image, and how she actually prefers her body physically how it is now, even though she’s conventionally labeled “overweight” (a term which means nothing), because her clothes fit better, her skin doesn’t sag, her temperature regulation is better, and she really enjoys the way she looks, but she’s still anxious to lose weight bc she saw the way her mother was treated growing up as a fat brown woman and she’s terrified of that happening to her. she actively wants to make herself less comfortable and less healthy by losing weight bc societal fatphobia is more threatening to her than low self esteem.

that’s what that biphobia anon reminds me of. it can be really difficult to separate feelings of “i hate being x” and “i hate the way i’m treated because i’m x.” it’s really easy for those two things to feel the same, but they aren’t, anon. i swear to you they aren’t. you can love your body and still fear fatphobia more. you can love your queerness and still fear social stigma more, and i’m genuinely offering you all the love i can and the hope that someday your love becomes stronger than your fear.

because there is so much joy to be found in queerness! there is so much beauty here! and not just in our resilience and our survival- our joy is inherent, and it doesn’t only come from overcoming homophobia in society. that’s part of it, yeah, but there’s joy just in being able to look at a woman and think “god, she’s so beautiful, i want to know everything about her.” there’s joy in seeing a man smile so it lights up the whole damn room and wanting to be the reason he keeps smiling. there’s joy in being able to do both of these things at the same time! there’s joy in meeting another queer person and realizing you understand something fundamental about each other that other people don’t, that you’re connected through a culture and a way of being that makes kin out of strangers. there is beauty in the threads that tie us together, anon, and you’re tangled in those threads whether you love them or not, and if you let us, we’ll weave a net beneath you to break your fall. there is love inherent in who you are, anon, and i truly and honestly hope you learn to feel it someday.

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