#You can't just put a CREATURE in the GARBAGE

[teaboot]

Can I ask about the « there is a lobster somewhere »? What happened??

Some teenage boys were seen removing a lobster from a tank. Then seen walking around with it. Then walking around without the lobster. Then leaving the property without the lobster

Possibilities included:

Put lobster back (not seen)

Put lobster in backpack (not seen)

Put lobster somewhere 'funny' (possible)

Sad lobster skittering around under a shelf somewhere

I was able to find the lobster in a different tank in the seafood department, and upon the owner's deliberation over whether the lobster was still safe for consumption or if it was now inedible and as such to be 'disposed of', offered to purchase it, if only to spare a living critter the potential indignity of being thrown into a trash compactor, alive OR dead, after all the trouble of being removed from the ocean in the first place.

I don't know what my plan was. I didn't have an aquarium and was not prepared for an immortal pet OR lobstercide, and like. Releasing it into the ocean didn't seem environmentally sound, either.

In the end, it was determined that it was likely still fit for human consumption and moved to a quarantine tank.

Not sure how I feel about that. I grew admittedly a bit too attached a bit too fast

[jinxthequeergirl]

The Ol Switcharoo (pt2)

Stan pines x reader /ford pines x reader

Summary: Your family vacation lasted longer than expected. When you return home to Stanford, you realize quickly something wrong.

Warning: NONE

Hey! Just some housekeeping before you read on

☆Thanks for all the love ya'll it means bunches

☆this part is shorter do to me wanting to pace this better, but I hope yall enjoy none the less!

☆a few of ya'll asked to be tagged so I'm starting a tag list if you'd like to be included don't hesitate to ask

☆additionally I did have a Playlist for this specific series and if ya'll would like me to post the songs for it also lemme know

Enjoy!

~~~~~☆~~~~~

"STANLEY HELP!"

Stan felt himself freeze up, his heart race and mind go blank, why couldn't he think? Why couldn't he move?

He watched in horror as his brother floated up backwards through the air into the gaping hole in space and time.

"Do something!"

"What...what do i do!?" He asked meekly, looking around for something to help.he watched as parts of his brother slowly disappeared, and as he reached into his coat pocket and tossed something at him. "Hide my research...CALLL Y/N ANYTHING-"

Stan shielded his eyes as a bright white light filled the room and knocked him back onto the floor. The room was suddenly quiet.

"Ford!?...Ford! Come back!" He wasted no time to get back up and bang on the machine, hoping it would start back up like an old appliance. "Please!"

He raced to the lever a few feet away, desperately pulling and yanking at it, but it didn't budge.

"Stanford!?...Ford!? Are you home yet!?" The small coo of an unfamiliar voice snapped Stan from his nightmare.

"Hello!?" The voice echoed out again. He quickly got up, reaching for his only form of security. A baseball bat.

The voice had gone silent, but he could still hear someone moving he took a long pause, then opened the door swinging his bad.

"FORD WAIT! WAIT, IT'S ME! ITS Y/N!!"

Y/n?

He stopped swinging the bat and stared down at you.

"Call y/n! Anything-"

"Y/n?"

"Yes, it's me, Ford! I haven't been gone that long have i?"

He cleared. "No not at all we have some catching up to do."

You could tell there was something ford...well stan (you'd have to get used to the sudden name change) wanted to tell you while you sat across from him. Like he wanted to give you bad news. But he seemed to be thinking of the right way to put it.

"So..stan...what made you want to change from Ford to stan? Did your family have that much of an impact on you?" You tried to joke to lighten the tension that seemed to linger in the air.

"Well...something like that...listen y/n-"

"Are you OK? You seem...different you seem nervous...more nervous then when I left.." You placed your hand over top of his and offered a reasuring smile.

"I..."

stan didn't know you...he had no right to lie to you. But Ford seemed to trust you and judging from the photo on his desk in the basement, how fondly he seemed to write about you in the journal...the scrapped drawings of you in the garbage you meant a whole lot more to him then stan could understand right now, you must have felt the same way about his brother.

He remembered how worried his brother had been in making sure he understood you were absolutely under no circumstances to not touch the journals or anything pertaining to it again.

"My closest friend y/n and I have been working on this project for months now...I should have listened to her but I didn't...I need you to get rid of this journal she can't be near any of this when she returns."

"Did something happen with the portal?...with that...creature? And what happened to your hands!" You said now, pulling both hands into yours to examine them.

Besides, you already seemed so worried. He couldn't be the one to break the news to you. Not now.

Besides, he had a plan.

Sort of.

So he did what he did best.

Lied.

"Well...uh while you were away, I had a little accident. I had to get surgery...yea surgery, and the accident you know was from the portal...so I said, Forget the whole thing! "

He Tried to say it in a way that would convince even himself.

"Stanford, what do you mean? What happened? Are you just going to give up on everything we worked for?"

"I have to, I just need some time."

Neither of you noticed at first that you were holding hands as you spoke. Stan was the first to notice the closeness. It was the first time in what felt like years that anyone had shown him this kind of affection, let alone the kindness you were demonstrating with your concern.

"I don't know what happened while I was away or when you even had time for something to go wrong or why you would even start working again without me!" He noticed the slight annoyance building up and squeezed your hand.

And you took a breath. "But I understand and I won't pretend to know what happened and if you aren't ready to tell me I can respect that...things got a little rocky between us before I left and I'm really just hoping things can go back to the way they used to be with us. If a longer break and time is what you need... then I am 100% behind your decision."

He felt a wave of relief wash over him at your words. Maybe it wasn't your words but the kind-hearted look in your eyes, or maybe it was the way you still held his hands in yours.

You'd be the first two admit two things about your current situation.

One, Nostalgia was a funny thing. You knew when something was off about your bestfriend, the man infront of you was was a changed man, while his story didn't add up he looked shaken and defeated...after all this was the man you trusted with half your life. And you wouldn't lie, you had clung so desperately to the memories of college and spring through winter, it was that glimmer of hope and a mix of Nostalgia for your good times together that made you believe him.

And two, You always knew better then to trust your heart you and Ford would joke about the idea of following your heart and not your brain, how silly a concept it was that the organ that pumped blood through your body had such a pull on your decision making it made your thought process stop.

Yet here you where.

Following your heart.

"How about a few drinks and I can tell you about my trip?" You offered standing and being the first to break the lock between your hands. "And I can tell you about the plans I have for this place!"

"Plans?"

"Sure! I mean, we aren't doing our science junk anymore, so we need to make money somehow, right?"

You set down two glasses.

"Ok?"

You sat down, you listened to him explain how he had already done a few tours displaying whatever you had already had laying around and how people where eating it up.

"Stanford you've never been one for the gimmicky tricks, you've always cared more about the real deal...WE'VE been about the real deal...why lie to people?"

"Trust me y/n do a tour with me tomorrow try to show the people a real life monster and whatchamacallit and put it up against my made up creature."

You laughed. This wasn't what you had expected Stanford pines to spend his break away from work doing. It was out of character for him. But refreshing somehow.

Just like that, the seasons changed, and it was spring again

You learned quickly people didn't like the truth.

Real monsters and ghouls seemed to only upset or bother people so you and stan collaborated a way to make attractions that seemed real enough but also gimmicky enough that tourists would eventually laugh at it.

You learned pretty quickly that you were not only a pretty crafty person but an excellent storyteller.

You and Stanford seemed to almost pick up where you left off bonding and cracking jokes. It was like he was more confident than when you left him, more relaxed and full of life. You two fit right back into place with eachother with out missing a beat.

It's exactly what you'd been missing.

Soon, you were renovating half the house to be a showroom and giftshop, and soon after you were selling and wearing t shirts, you began putting up a sign. By the following summer, you were basically an operational business.

The mystery shack felt more like a brain child of you and Stanford and you cared for it like such.

It was something fun.

Something that didn't seem to be running Stanford down like the science stuff did. You could see a genuine smile on his face as he showed some local kid the corni-corn.

It was silly. You couldn't remember the last time you'd done something silly and adventurous.

It felt good.

"Another day another dollar y/n my dear." Stan said, flipping the open sign to close and placing his little red fez cap on top of your head.

"Soon enough, we'll have people from all over the place coming to get a piece of the mystery shack." He said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, leading you back to the section of the Mystery shack that was still your shared home.

"Yea, we have a real Walt Disney start-up story, don't we stanford." He laughed loudly before suddenly getting serious.

"Listen. I wanted to say thank you for sticking with me through this. It means a lot."

"Of course, stanford." You reached up and planted a small peck on his cheeks. "We've been through everything together. I'm not going to stop now."

You could see stans face flush slightly as you stretched and yawned. "Anyways goodnight stanford."

"Uh yea...goodnight..." You heard him mumble as he touched his cheek where you kissed him.

Things where looking up.

~~~~~☆~~~~~

Tag list!:

@fanficcrow

@slay-thou-pookie

[qtkoshi]

Maybe gn!Reader and Hobie adopt a kitten and the other three (Pavitr, Gwen, and Miles) come to see the kitten? Maybe a orange kitten gn!Reader wanted to name Spunk or Spike while Hobie gave them a spike collar? Would be cute lol

i luv ur brain anon

"you got....a kitten?"

- ok ok idk if this is what u meant, but u can feel free to run this with the bubblegum reader + hobie bc i think it fits alright :-) - also get a little deep with describing relationship,, but it’s necessary for the plot ! (...) - also!!! tysm for the requests; i am very excited to get into them, but will prob wait till tmrw to release bc it is my birthday today <3 much love to you all

──★ ˙ ̟ to the stars ！

general headcannons

alright first of all: hobie with a kitten? i’m in tears. 

i love the hc that hobie has a soft spot for cats and the fact that y’all got one together? bye.

NAPS WITH THE KITTEN JUST NESTLED BETWEEN BOTH OF YOU

this cat is gonna be SPOILED in attention i tell u rn

hobie isn’t as obvious ab it as u, but the amount of times u see him chilling with the cat just perched on his shoulder?? (why are u taking the baby swinging across the city hobie; wait a min now–)

how u got him

imagine this: ur walking past an alley and hear this small little meow; after further investigation you find this tuft of orange fur crying outside the dumpster and

now u gotta take it in what r u talking about!!

bringing him home immediately ; hobie's spidey senses prob picked up the cat's presence before you got in the door.

'baby what's that.' 'c'mon spiderman we got saving to do'

man can't even argue with you

hobie not naming the cat himself bc he doesn’t wanna enforce socio-constructed labels on an unsuspecting creature that can’t consent

u can tho.

and while you very much want to, you tell hobie you gotta think on it for a bit – it has to fit just right!! (tbh he rlly doesn’t mind the cat being nameless, but he’s kinda whipped and will kinda go with what u want if it helps give that pretty lil smile to him again)

spider-squad finding out ab him

the besties r wrapping up something with a fight and hobie’s all k gotta leave and check on the cat and the rest are like ????? 

pav absolutely floored bc how dare did u not mention this sooner hobie

'so you lot wanna come see him?' (inter-dimensional travel ensues) – also never gonna complain ab coming to hobie’s house they all think his place is dope

i’m sure we all know orange cats are fucking crazy and that does not exclude the little gremlin jumping off the walls of your flat rn

hobie ofc is smirking bc his son the cat is a little agent of chaos and he couldn’t be more proud 

you, on the other hand, are just a little tired trying to get the fucker to stay still for a second so u can put on the damn flea medicine

everybody loves him are u kidding (miles a little hesitant tho, he still has beef with the last spiderman-variant cat he met :/ ) 

“so whats its name?” miles was watching with wary eyes as the little ball of fur darted around. with a heavy (and definitely not dramatic) sigh, you walk over to the group “still haven’t picked. we just found him yesterday.”

luv the idea of hobie looking at u anytime ur in the room (stay with me now) — can’t help it u just grab all his attention, maybe stop being so lovely idk

speaking of your relationship: he has spent years battering against everything life throws at him that having your love in the palm of his hands? something to protect not in the way he does as a hero, but in the way to cherish as a person?? give the man a break, he deserves to admire you whenever he can.

anyways hobie’s looking at you before going ‘oh yea’, just grunts and pulls out this little collar with little spikes and their matching and oh my that is so cute

says he found it in some garbage, most def made the collar with some scraps like he did his own (gotta keep it cool yk)

you giddy and putting the collar on the little heathen and just all ‘omg wait a min’

promptly lifting the cat up and “THIS IS SPIKE.”

cue golf claps from the squad with some ooo’s and aah’s

more gen headcannons

remember when hobie and the cat were swinging around the city? yea he's taking that mf everywhere. puts him in his pocket like a little surprise

hobie loves to play fight with the cat

spike is the perfect mix; got hobie’s energy and your brightness it’s a win-win

i could write more but i'll stop here for now 🕸️

⊗

[cc1010fox]

Rex: That number is your kill count? Fox: Roughly. Cody: I wasn't...expecting that to be honest... Wolffe: He's lying. Look, he wrote a number above it first, then crossed it out. That's the truth. Fox: No, that's the literal kill count. Cody: ... Rex: ... Wolffe: ... Fox: They were alive before we crossed paths. Rex: Oh...Most of our kills are-- Cody: Droids... Wolffe: I don't--How!? Fox: ...Why do you think I have so many awards? Wolffe: You...work hard? Fox: Doing what? Wolffe: Whatever the chancellor tells you to do. Fox: ... Cody: You protect the Senate. Fox: Coruscant. Rex: What? Fox: My duties extend beyond the Senate. I protect Coruscant. Wolffe: Ok, you protect Coruscant. Fox: ...From? Wolffe: Seppies? Fox: That's...part of it. Rex: ... Cody: ... Fox, popping his tongue against the roof of his mouth: Let me lay it out for you three. Fox: While you're out there sniping heads off of comedic relief training dummies, I have to deal with living, breathing, thinking beings. The living and breathing should make them easier to take down, but the thinking makes them unpredictable. I have to account for their individual beliefs, their morals...their sense of honor...all of which throw logic out of the window. It's not easy to land a droid army on Coruscant, so I don't get the pleasure of predictability too often. Rex: ... Fox: Instead, I have to deal with the citizens of this planet, too many of which don't want us here. They shout at us, abuse us, and have even started a market for us. You know...the skin and organ market. Yes and no. Yes, they have actually harvested our skin. No, I don't mean literal skin when I say skin market. Think collars and chains. How many times have you stood between a threat and the people you're duty bound to protect knowing at least one of those people have spat on your men, attacked them, used them like toys, or captured and sold them? My only comfort is knowing I can turn on them the second they're labeled a traitor to the Republic. And I can pick the worst of them off when there are no witnesses. Cody: ...That's-- Fox: On top of that, I have encountered creatures of nightmares because they just dwell in the bowels of this rotting planet or some pieces of garbage brought them here to sell. If you thought I was protected against watching my men get eaten by a wampa, you are sorely mistaken. Although it was the nexu that kept me up at night. For weeks. Who buys those things? Seriously...At least I put some of them down, but who knows how many they sold? Wolffe: ... Fox: The worst creatures are the ones I can't add to my kill count, though. The absolute worst is Chancellor Palpatine. He doesn't know what my job is and assigns me to literally every job in the Coruscant Guard. I have to do it personally. I'm the boss of the people who are supposed to do those jobs. He is the sole reason I will only sleep when I am dead. Fox: The second worst is 99% of the senators. Entitled, egotistical pricks. I would rather be distributed to desperate families looking for organs than catch the eye of any senator. Thire has to remember which ones show a little too much interest in the clones because we are at their mercy. He can't allow a shiny anywhere near them. If a Coruscanti attacks a clone, it's considered damaging government property, making them a criminal. If a senator attacks a clone, it's considered You better do what is best for the Republic and shut your kriffing mouth. Because treating a clone like a complimentary gift isn't betraying the Republic. Risking one of the Republic's delicate alliances is. Cody: Force, Fox... Fox: I deal with all of that while maintaining an impressive record of mission successes. That is why I have so many awards. Wolffe: ...You have awards, but do you want a hug? Fox: Desperately. All day. Every day.

[angel-sweets666]

running away!

chapter four finale

guard!könig x princess reader

The guard of a princess and the princess escape the royal confines and live in the woods

warning :

könig knocked on your door 5 times to signify that it was him at your door, you peeked your head through “bags packed?” He asked, looking at you from under his mask “yeah.. I’ve got everything” “have you disguised it as garbage?” He asks a question that was purely so he and you won’t get caught “yep! It all looks like garbage, I’ve got one bag” you told him, passing him a bag that was clearly full of clothes and other essentials and luxury’s

“you ready?”

You nodded, glancing around nervously. "I can't stay here any longer. Let's go."

König took your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. Together, you made your way to the stables, where two horses awaited with a wagon tied to the back of them , their breath visible in the cool night air. He helped you into the wagon, putting a tarp over yoy , then swung up onto one of the horses . With a final, longing look at the castle, he spurred the horses into a gallop , racing towards the forest that bordered the kingdom.

The ride was exhilarating, the wind whipping through your hair as you left the castle far behind. König watched over you , his presence a steadying force in the night. As you entered the forest, the trees closed in around you, their branches forming a protective canopy overhead. The sounds of the castle faded, replaced by the rustling leaves and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures.

After what felt like hours, you reached a secluded clearing deep within the forest. König dismounted first, then helped you down from your horse. He led you to a hidden cottage that he had prepared, its wooden structure blending seamlessly with the surroundings.

"We'll be safe here," he said, opening the door and guiding you inside. The cabin was cozy, with a fireplace, a sturdy king sized bed, and shelves lined with supplies. It was a far cry from the opulence of the castle, but it felt like a haven.

You sank into a chair by the fire, exhaustion and relief washing over you. König knelt beside you, taking your hands in his. "Are you all right?" he asked, his eyes filled with concern.

"I am now," you replied, squeezing his hands. "As long as I'm with you, I'll be fine."

He smiled, a rare sight that made your heart flutter. "We'll make a life here, away from all the expectations and dangers of the court. Just you and me."

The days that followed were a blur of adjustments and discoveries. You learned to live off the land, guided by König's expertise. He taught you how to forage for food, how to build a fire, and how to navigate the dense forest. You found solace in the simplicity of your new life, far removed from the suffocating responsibilities of royalty.

König proved to be an adept and patient teacher, his strength and skills invaluable in your new existence. You marveled at how seamlessly he transitioned from a fearsome guard to a nurturing partner. Nights were spent wrapped in each other's arms, the flickering firelight casting shadows on the walls as you whispered dreams and promises.

One evening, as you sat by the fire, König took your hand and led you outside. The night was clear, the sky awash with stars. He pulled you close, his arms around you, and you rested your head against his chest.

"Look up," he said softly.

You tilted your head back, gasping at the sight above. The stars seemed brighter here, more vibrant. It was as if the entire universe was laid out before you, a testament to the freedom you had fought for.

As you stood there, wrapped in his embrace, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. The forest had become your sanctuary, and with König by your side, you were ready to embrace whatever came next.

this was rushed I’m so sorry, but that’s the wrap for running away!

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

I feel like doting wife is the one who brings Ace into the family. She just comes home with the most scrappy looking dog that she found on her way home and Bruce truly is incapable of saying no to her.

I don't think she'd bring home a functional pet. It would have to be the most useless pet ever. Like a dust mop with feet.

""Bruce stop!"

And it was the note of panic in your voice that made him hit the breaks- and nearly cause a small series of wrecks. But before he can ask questions you've unbuckled your sat belt and wrenched the door open. Bolting out into the rain and scooping up what looked like a bundle of muddy garbage out of the gutter.

"What the-"

And as you scowled at a car until it stopped to let you hop over puddles back to the car Bruce could practically feel the headache brewing.

"Sweetheart, what the-"

You're crooning to the bundle of trash and making little soothing noises and it's not until the honking and yelling dies down that he can properly hear. It's not trash. It's a... creature. And it's whining.

" 'S okay baby," you hum. "It'll be okay. I know that kid was a dick but you'll be okay."

"Y/N you can't just-"

"They're scared. And I just watched a kid on a moped try to hit them-"

You broke off and looked up at him. Eyes flashing. And Bruce can't say no. The wrongness of it. The injustice of watching someone be hurt for no good reason- It just reminded him of why he wanted you to start with.

All your education. All your struggle to become one of the sharpest, most sought after legal minds in the country. And instead of taking the easy way out, making piles of money and having a fast track to the top; you worked in legal aid. Living on instant coffee and canned soup- counting handfuls of change to put gas in your car sometimes. All because one desperate person came to you with no where else to go.

"I'll call Alfred. What even is it?"

"A dog I think," you hum, holding the bundle closer to your chest when it shivered.

"You think?"

"I mean. It could be a raccoon but I doubt it. I've never seen a skinny Raccoon in Gotham."

[pavlovianfuckery]

literally just a blowjob so calm down

MASTERLIST

Linky for those more AO3-ly inclined:https://archiveofourown.org/works/41618340

at this point this is OLD but i'm going to post on here as well from now on i think? and probably try to fix the fucky formatting while i'm at it if i can.

this took way too long and i’m still not happy but fuck it, have 1200 words of garbage about giving dream head, bone apple tea you gremlins

Dreams have always been a place of comfort and escape, the more dissatisfied you were, the more vivid they would get. Settling in for another night of restless slumber, it doesn't take long for the dream to turn a bit steamy, as they often do. Your imaginary lovers are usually faceless and you never remember much in the morning. At least it's better than nothing, or the unsatisfying encounters you've previously had, at any rate. This time is different though. Before you're ready to wake up, the dream simply dissolves around you, leaving you confused and frustrated in the non-descript room.

"You mortals really are simple creatures." The smooth voice startles you but it wouldn't be the first time a dream changed on you by its own volition, so you don't really question the presence of the man leaning against the wall behind you, a haughty look on his face.  "Though it is not often I encounter dreams of such...singular focus."

Being shamed by your own dream, that's new. But then so is he. He seems sharper somehow, more real. His dark clothes makes him stand out like an inkblot against the wall, though the voluminous coat does little to disguise the slim lines of his body. 

"Perhaps we might be of use to one another." Though his voice betrays no emotion, it's pretty clear what he's implying. His gaze has an almost hypnotic quality to it, reeling you in like a fish on a line until you're standing in front of him. He's even more beautiful up close and you can't help but stare, which doesn't seem to bother him in the slightest. "Serve me, and I will grant you release."

Or not so much implying, then. But why not go along? Dreams have never hurt you before, after all. The crude suggestion sounds more appealing from his pretty mouth than it has any right to, tempting you.  Hands itching to touch you hesitate, unsure how to proceed. Before you can decide on a course of action, his lips are on yours. They're softer than you expected. It's brief, barely more than a brush, testing the waters.

"If this is not what you want, you should leave now." The next time he kisses you it's with more urgency, a soft grip on your jaw and you respond in kind. Daring to touch him now, you sneak your hands under the hem of his shirt, marveling at the softness of his skin. Deepening the kiss as you explore a bit more, skimming your hands over the contours of his ribs makes him almost melt into your touch, breath speeding up ever so slightly. From one blink of the eye to the next, there are no clothes separating you anymore. As you start questioning how that happened he puts two of his fingers in your mouth, pressing your tongue down, making you drool.

"Hush now, you do not need to speak." Lightheaded already, his hand at your shoulder makes your knees fold all too willingly, not bothering to deny that you need this. You both do. Kneeling between his legs, his pale skin is just begging to be bruised. The thought of marking him with your teeth makes your mind reel with possibilities. You nuzzle his thigh, teeth and tongue, the smoothness of his cock heavy against your cheek as you pull his scent deep into your lungs. He only humours you for a few moments before urging you closer, his fingers cradling the back of your skull. "Go on, surely you do not mean to keep me waiting?"

Betrayed by the breathy edge to his voice, the need to be touched all but bleed from his words as his facade starts to crack. Before guiding him into your mouth you drag your tongue over his length, making him gasp as you taste him before sliding home. Every suck and swipe of the tongue is almost reverent. "Look at me." You watch him watching you, his eyes dark and lips parted. He's almost swaying on his feet, breath hitching. Your knees hurt, but you try to concentrate on the feel of his cock in your mouth, you want to be good. Every groan and murmur of appreciation spurs you on, you're doing something right, he likes. His grip on your shoulder is nearly bruising as he pushes you away for a moment, chest heaving.

"I will not be able to last," he has to force the words out, his body tense like the bow of a violin. "I do not wish to disappoint you." Any assurances you might have given die in your throat as he guides you onto the floor before finally straddling your chest, pinning you down. You start to protest, but he simply hushes you again.

"Grant me this much," he murmurs as he leans back, sinking his fingers inside you, thumb pressed to your clit. "I promise I will not leave you wanting."

Thighs trembling and slick, you can feel your juices sliding down and out of you as he works you, the practiced movements of his fingers making it feel like he has touched you hundreds of times before, knowing every spot to drive you wild.

  "Open nice and wide for me." His voice is husky, almost fraying at the edges, you can tell he's getting close and all you want is to obey. He makes it so easy, tracing your lips with his tip, all but begging to be devoured, worshipped.  It feels almost like a competition, to see who will give in first. Torn between wanting to come with him in your mouth and not wanting to lose, you redouble your efforts. Even as he thrusts into your mouth, nearly gagging you, he never stops picking you apart with his fingers, driving you ever closer to the edge.  In the end you're the one to break first, clamping down around his fingers like a vice, the waves of pleasure making you falter as you moan around his cock.

  "Yes, come for me, let me feel you." He draws your orgasm out with experienced ease, dragging it out until you nearly try to buck him off of you, his touch relentless. Feeling him swell in your mouth, a few more swirls of the tongue is all it takes to bring him off, making him pulse as he fills your mouth. He surprises you by pulling out, some of his come hitting your chin. As he milks his cock and covers your neck and breasts in it, the sound he makes is close to a whimper.  Finally spent he rolls off of you, settling in pressed close to you, one leg slung over yours, seeking contact. Still out of breath he drags his fingers lazily through the puddles cooling on your skin, painting you with it. Admiring his handiwork through half lidded eyes as he marks you.

"You absolutely stunning creature," he murmurs, capturing your mouth with his in a sloppy kiss. It's a languid, boneless thing and he sighs contentedly against your lips. "Would you see me again, some other night perhaps?" The look he gives you through dark lashes is almost coy, his cheeks softly dusted with colour. "I should like to make my shameful performance up to you, if you would let me."

You would. Waking up you feel more relaxed than you recall feeling in a long time. And as you go about your day, you can't help looking forward to bed time just a little bit more than usual.

[gofishygo]

hitherto ; simon 'ghost' riley x gn! reader

summary (more of a footnote but whatever) : simon 'ghost' riley with a civilian reader who loves animals heals me in some unspoken language <3

notes: mentions of past trauma (ghost), mentions of animal abuse (ghost), fluff and (maybe) hurt/comfort ?? not proofread; 639 words

He knew his footsteps would always leave a trail, no matter how lightly he treaded or how stealthy he was. He'd killed hundreds after all, all in the name of the world's safety- a legal killer, worthy of purging the unclean as classed. Not to mention the remnants of his past that always followed, violence and abuse and his family always legible in his surroundings like a ghost. He'd always wondered whether his stain had hurt the world more than healed it.

And then there was you, with your light treads and invisible presence and pretty smile. You were everything his hardships had prevented him from being- so much softer and warm and wholeheartedly loved. Always avoiding the bloodied fields of war and doing your best to slip through the world undetected. Simeon had always known that he never deserved anyone, let alone someone like you. And yet you still traced the markings on his calloused hands, talked to him with that bubbly voice of yours, held his face despite the black medical mask that would cover it. You held your world in your hands, and his world was right in front of him.

Your presence is a gentle hand to his marred and bleeding one.

But still, he can't help but glance twice at any snake he sees. His suvorexant holds him down through the nightmares instead of alleviating them. It almost feels to him like he's betraying you when he can feel his chest tighten when you scoop the stray cat up into your arms amidst the cascading rain, ignoring it's indignant hisses and the hair that now messied your formerly clean sweater. He can make the figure of his father in the darkest corners of the alleyway, mangled carrion bodies and blood in the garbage bags of the trash can.

" should put the lad back, doll. " he does his best to hide the grit in his tone.

You only reply with avid pouts of refusal. "it's pouring, si !! I'm not leaving some poor, defenceless animal in the rain !!"

His expression softens. He trusts you; he truly does. But the smell of dog blood is still cloyingly bitter in his nose, and it’s a scent that still stings at his brain.  It's too late for him to react though- you’ve already dashed off back to your shared apartment while covering the feline with your now soaked sweater. Simon follows suit without protest.

He watches as you wrap the cat in the fluffiest towel you can find, careful as to not scare the cat any further. Your gentle rubs to it's fur could never compare what he had seen in his childhood- menageries of vicious snapping teeth and growls , the smell of blood and unkempt fur. You're rummaging through the cupboards and microwaving a can of tuna, nudging it towards the creature to try soothe it's fear. Simon feel his hands start to relax, his grimace fading beneath his mask. You're nothing like that shadow of a man, nothing like Ghost or the little boy before him. You were never going to make the same mistakes, never going to end up as the same monster. A little thing clicks in him, a small shift of his aorta. You were the one he would choose to stand by his side in the old and grey.

"sim ? you've been zoning, is there something wrong ?" you're scritching the cat's head, giggling at its soft purrs as it nuzzles its head closer to your fingers. A doe eyed look of concern as you grace over his features, checking for any sign of turmoil in your boyfriend.

"nothin' to worry about, love." he wraps his arm around your shoulder as you continue to play with the cat, the movement of your muscles as you play with the cat allowing him to take a new breath. "just thinking."

[justabeewithapen]

What are your Lethal Company OC's thoughts on the items in the facilities? Any favorites? Any they dislike?

Oh boy, I am so glad you asked!!! I've put everything under a keep reading because there is a lot.

Kirby, my employee, doesn't give two craps about items. As a Xenozoologist his only concerns are observing the alien life, picking up garbage is the job of scrappers. Occasionally, if they're in his way, he'll move items to easier to reach spots, but otherwise they're entirely ignored. The only time he cares about them is when he can watch the facility life interact with them, so he might move a lamp or a noise maker into the scouting path of a Bracken just to see how they react, or prop a painting up to see if Thumpers will treat them as barriers when not actively hunting. That sort of thing! (Though he does find masks the object interesting, but I treat them more like living creatures haha)

Juno, Kirby's dog, loooves noise makers. I'd say his favorite item is the Rubber Duck because it squeaks when he chews on it. A close second would be the plastic fish, fun to chew but doesn't squeak. Things like the Toy Robot and the Teeth freak him out because they make noise unprompted which often startles him. Really, anything you'd expect a puppy to enjoy, he probably likes. Most of the objects are very new experiences for him, because 9 times out of 10 Kirby has Juno stay back in the ship when they land. He's naturally curious and adventurous, but still a puppy.

Pop-up, my jester, is a lot like Juno in the fact that he only really cares about objects that are fun to chew, and a lot like Kirby in the fact he doesn't care about them 90% of the time. I think he'd like things like Whoopie cushions and air horns because he enjoys being obnoxious, but most of the time his main goal is murder(tm). He does have a vague understanding of what items employees like, so he'll move them in places to attempt to set "traps". Because he is so small it means he can't really do that with engines or axels or cash registers, and also that you could trap him in a room by barricading it with those. Even once he has popped he can't really pick them up.

Dizy, my nutcracker, really doesn't care about objects. If they're along his path he'll usually kick them out of the way, but not pay them much mind otherwise. The only exception would be the Apparatus and the Lamp. Both of them produce a lot of light which makes his vision even blurrier and hurts his eyes, so if he comes across them on his patrol he'll shoot them until they stop glowing. He's managed to kill an employee at least once through this method, tracking the big painful spot (the lamp they were carrying) to aim his shot. Finally, Bean, my Bracken! Bean likes objects that are reflective or glow, showing a preference towards mostly metal ones. In her hidey hole she has many many cans of all sorts, which is how she got her name! Though they're reflective things like mirrors are less attractive to her, same with things like the robot which make noise. I'd say her least favorite object would be the paintings, as they leave her very frustrated. They're so pretty out in the light but as soon as she gets them into her dark hole they're not pretty anymore!

[jkrockin]

Wait what guy who hadn't read Atlas Shrugged?

I was pretty sure I'd told this story here, but a cursory search suggests that I have not. Okay let's gooooo

Many moons ago, I worked in an emergency services call centre. I worked nights- I could get regular shifts, it paid well, and I am a huge freak, just like everyone else who works nights in a call centre. It is a lifestyle that attracts freaks. Some of my coworkers weren't full-time creatures of the night, but students or whoever who picked up occasional nights for the extra money, and one of them was Libertarian Shithead, who we'll call LS for short.

LS was a twentysomething white dude who wore a lot of name brand surfwear and designer sunglasses. I assume his parents were rich. LS loved nothing better than recreational arguing. Unfortunately, he wasn't very good at it; he had some of the most dogshit opinions I've ever encountered in the wild, and was terrible at defending them. He'd say some crap about how Gattaca-type eugenics is Fine, Actually, because if you let people make designer babies, the ~*Free Market will decide what traits are desirable! Racism and colourism and ableism and sexism and intersexism won't affect those choices at all! And I'd get mad, because I have principles to speak of, and we'd get into it, and WITHOUT FAIL, we'd get maybe halfway into an actual discussion about whatever horseshit garbage he was on tonight, and the second he thought he was losing, he'd say "oh, well. I'm an ~*Objectivist, so you can't really understand my perspective unless you've read Ayn Rand." Then he'd sigh, and change the subject.

At the time I had not read any Ayn Rand. Being fundamentally powered by spite, I withstood maybe three weeks of this shit before I pirated an epub of Atlas Shrugged, put it on my e-reader, and proceeded to slam through it at supersonic speed so I could finally get to finish an argument with this terrible boy.

Anon, I fucking hated Atlas Shrugged. The book is bad. It's way too long, every single character is an unbelievable douche, the prose sucks. Ayn Rand wants to fuck a train so so so badly, but the prose is so turgid I couldn't even get invested in how much she wants to fuck a train. And the core of the matter, the politics I was there to understand, are, y'know. Objectivist. Eye-bleedingly selfish and capitalistic, expressed in amazingly childish and blinkered terms. Even the bits where it seems like the shithead capitalist dudes want to fuck each other are too mired in the scunge of Rand's terrible views to be enjoyable.

But I read the fucking thing! I powered through it with only quite minimal complaining! I finished the book on the train to work, and when I saw that LS was on that night, I plonked myself in a seat by him, and metaphorically cracked my knuckles, ready to fuckin' party. In a perfect world, I would have been cool enough to have waited for the perfect mid-argument moment to drop, but I didn't. I think I lasted exactly until we were both off a call at the same time, and then leaned in as close as the desk dividers would let me, and said "So I finished Atlas Shrugged. I have some thoughts."

I cannot overstate how quickly it became obvious that LS had not read the book. For a hot second I thought maybe it had just been a while and the fine details had escaped him, but no; he didn't know who half the characters were, or key points of the plot, or even know any of the stuff in the John Galt speech, i.e. the big juggernaut of Here's How Objectivism Works near the end of the book about Objectivism that this fucking guy hypothetically based his Objectivist views on. It took me maybe five minutes, in between calls, to realise this, and another five for him to admit he hadn't actually read any Ayn Rand. He'd read her Wikipedia page.

ANYWAY I didn't speak to him for like a month after that, and I don't think either of us lost out there!

[lunamond]

In keeping with my recommendation of Cruel Beauty, an actual good YA book, instead of 🔥hotfire garbage🔥, aka Acotar, I thought I'd recommend another favourite of mine.

So, this time, I'm going to give an alternative recommendation to Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros. This post is definitely not inspired by the release of Iron Flame.

Instead please try:

Fireborne by Rosaria Munda❤️‍🔥

This recommendation is especially for anyone who fell for the advertising when FW first came out, and it was sold as a YA adjacent military dragon fantasy with a slow burn romance.

So if that sounds interesting to you and you want to read an actually well written story, go check out Fireborne.

Fireborne is a YA fantasy, the 1st book of the Aurelian Cycle (a completed trilogy).

It follows its two main characters in a military academy through their training to become dragon riders.

I personally have pitched this series to irl friends as a genderswapped Anastasia (animated movie) with dragons.

The story takes place right after a big revolution. The people overthrew the dragon riding aristocracy.

Our main characters meet up in an orphanage, where they grow up together and end up joining the military academy to become dragon riders.

A lot of the story revolves around the questions that come up when a newly formed government is put through crisis.

All seen through the eyes of the protagonists, who as teenagers are old enough to know what life was like before the revolution, but young enough to have grown up in the new system.

The story does a great job of dealing with the struggles that come with uprooting old deeply ingrained systems of oppression while trying to build a newer fairer system.

The dragons are an integral part of this theme. Unlike FW, in which magical abilities and creatures are added without regard for how they might impact the world or themes, in Fireborne, the dragons are the embodiment of political and military power.

When the aristocracy ruled their oppressive regime, they were the only ones allowed to own and ride dragons. After their fall, the new regime allowed regular people the opportunity to become riders.

However, the number of dragons is still limited, and the new regime, comprised of former revolutionary leaders, want to keep the new riders under their control.

So, in the end, they still come up with a system that allows for abuse and oppression because access to power remains restricted to a chosen few, the dragon riders and those who control them, the newly established government.

These themes make for really complicated and nuanced conflicts without easy solutions. The sequels make a great job with further expanding on these themes.

The military elements also all make sense in this series, and they employ logical means to train their most valuable military assets, their dragon riders unlike FW.

It also features one of my favourite slow burn romances (at least in YA), the relationship has actually depth and tension, while also providing believable reasons why the characters can't just get together.

I'm actually really salty that Fourth Wing took off practically overnight, while Fireborne has been out for ages and has consistently remained underhyped. But I guess it isn’t spicy... 😒

So, for anyone who picked FW up without realising that it is actually just a very trashy smutty romance mascarading as a high fantasy, I highly recommend reading Fireborne which comes with the added perk of not being written by a known zionist.

[anonymous-dentist]

Little oneshot of monster au Foolish and Vegetta finding Leo?

Aight, so here's the thing about being a vampire, okay?

You don't fucking eat.

Foolish has been alive for a very, very long time. And he's maybe eaten a pizza, like, uh, twice? Maybe? Or maybe he just ate two Italian guys... honestly, it kinda starts all running together after a couple of centuries.

Like, you eat, obviously, but you can't exactly leave a human body in the dumpster like you would an empty pizza box. It's illegal, apparently, and it's fucking stupid, too. Body disposal is maybe number three on Foolish's official Most Annoying Things In The World list, right behind "Bad Boy" Halo and "Bad Boy" Halo written in a different font.

So it's not like Foolish's garbage cans are full of food waste, is the thing. He's got some trash in there: plastic baggies, mostly, from when he wants to have his blood on the go with a straw; and then there's an insane amount of carboard boxes from his and Vegetta's LEGO collection.

So it's actually a little crazy one morning when Foolish steps outside of his and Vegetta's mansion to throw away their fifteenth box of the month and he sees a little creature digging through his trash.

Foolish first picks up on the scent of blood. Yum!

He then picks up on the scent of human. Double yum!

He then picks up on the scent of tears, and his stomach stops rumbling. (He may be a heartless, soulless creature of the night, but he isn't an asshole.)

So he carefully closes the back door behind him, and he clears his throat, and he has approximately three seconds to say, "Hey, you're probably in the wrong place to be doing that, pal," before the little human is screaming and tumbling backwards out of the dumpster. They hit the ground with an OOF!!, their red baseball cap flying off and landing a couple of inches away.

Vegetta, as talented as he is, must have heard the scream because he's out the back door almost immediately. But him coming out the back door means he's opening the back door right into Foolish's ass, sending Foolish tumbling down the short flight of stairs and onto the dirty-ass concrete.

"Shit!" Foolish screeches. He isn't hurt because he's literally immortal, but he plays it up just to see Vegetta's stricken face. He's gorgeous when he's worried.

"Foolish!" Vegetta cries. He jumps down the steps and crouches by Foolish's side, clutching Foolish's hand to his chest dramatically. "I am sorry!"

Foolish groans and flops his head onto the ground with his eyes closed. "Oh, Vegeta, how could you do this to me? How could you!?"

He feels a morose kiss pressed to his knuckles, and he's so flattered that his heart almost starts beating again.

But then his heart, as shriveled as it is, does literally jump in his chest as he hears a tiny giggle from next to him.

"Oh," Vegetta softly says, "who is this?"

Foolish shrugs. He cracks his eyes back open and swivels his head to the side so he can look at the kid, who is staring at the two of them with wide amber-colored eyes.

"Dunno," Foolish replies. "Human, I think."

The kid nods. They've got their hat on again, backwards.

Oh, Foolish thinks. They're cool.

"Hey, little one, would you like to come inside?" Vegetta asks.

Foolish sits up with a huff, turning to look at his husband. "What the hell, man! You can't just ask a kid to come inside your spooky vampire castle! That's freak behavior!"

"I don't know that!" Vegetta protests. "It worked with you, didn't it!"

"I wasn't a child! I was literally three hundred!"

"Maybe they're three hundred! You don't know that."

"I'm not," the kid interrupts. They blush and shrink into themself. "And I'm a girl. Today."

"Oh, cool," Foolish says, because fuck yeah. Then he turns back to his husband with a put-on scowl. "Stop being a creep, Vegeta! She's a girl!"

Vegetta is halfway through beginning his reply when they both freeze as the back door opens and slams shut.

Foolish looks over. The kid is gone.

"Huh," he says.

"Huh," Vegetta agrees.

What the hell.

[amnestria-the-elf]

If you're not one of the estimated 30 million people worldwide to experience PMDD, let me try to describe it to you.

The world loses its color, completely without warning. You realize something is off, but you're tired AF and your brain barely works so you pour yourself your morning hot beverage of choice to try to shake it off. Your usual breakfast tastes like sawdust and you attempt to choke it down while you scroll on your phone looking hopelessly for something that might fill the empty void that has settled in your chest while your morning beverage grows cold and untouched next to you.

You sit on the edge of your bed and stare blankly at the wall for an undetermined amount of time. Maybe you drum up the energy to take a shower, but if you're like me and work from home you just think "fuck it" and change out of your PJs and into your daytime sweats, because nothing matters anyway.

Your family/roommates/coworkers/every goddamn living creature on Earth annoy the hell out of you. "Irritable" hardly begins to describe your behavior. Think "Embrace Durge" levels of murderous rage, combined with enormous amounts of sensory overload. You want nothing more than to lie in bed in a dark, quiet room, for exactly forever, because nothing matters anyway.

That's when the intrusive thoughts come in. You're The Worst Human Alive. Everything you've ever created is garbage. You should delete your fics, burn your art, throw away your laptop/tablet/colored pencils and never, ever, ever create anything ever again because the world deserves better than to be subjected to the flaming pile of shit that you put out into it. Such thoughts might make you weep uncontrollably, they might make you scream in rage, or they might make you feel completely dead inside. Maybe you cycle through all three, and end up completely wrung out, laying in a heap on your bed, because again, nothing matters anyway.

Basic functioning becomes difficult. Simple things like brushing your teeth sap your energy; forget answering emails or Slack messages, or god forbid getting on a Zoom call. Things that would have once felt like fun challenges now feel like impossible obstacles that you will never surmount. You won't even bother trying, because- and I can't stress this enough- nothing matters anyway.

Maybe you're lucky enough to have had enough therapy to recognize the warning signs and are able to see that you are In A Dark Place. The thing about Being In a Dark Place, though, is that knowing you're in it in no way helps you get out of it. Imagine that you walked into a giant, brightly lit warehouse, and then someone spun you around a bunch of times and then suddenly cut the lights. You might say, "Wow, this is A Dark Place." You might remember vaguely where the door was and try to head in that direction. You might even make some progress, but it won't be because you know that you're in A Dark Place. The knowing doesn't change it. At best, the knowing is a reminder that perhaps you should use the many tools at your disposal, or Accept Help.

Accepting Help is one of the hardest things you can do when you are In A Dark Place because- let's not forget- nothing matters anyway. Help does not always come from a licensed therapist, though if you're fortunate enough to avail yourself of such Help, I highly recommend you do so. Help might come from a partner who sees that you're In A Dark Place and sits with you until you're ready to move out of The Dark Place. Help might come from your group chat. Help might even come from this random stranger in this little corner of the internet who is here to tell you that Things Do Matter, and that the world is better because you are in it, and that I know what Being In A Dark Place feels like, too.

Now imagine that you go through this Dark Place once a month. When your menstrual cycle begins, it's as if a veil is lifted off of your brain and the Dark Place goes away, and you see it for what it is: your hormones once again waking up and choosing violence. 75% of the time, you're totally fine. No intrusive thoughts, the things you create are beautiful and lovely and you want the world to see them, and if you're not a delight to be around you're at least not A Horrible Person. The other 25% of the time, you become someone else. Your life comes screeching to a halt while you're flailing about in A Dark Place, not to mention that you gained what feels like 45 pounds, your face is covered in acne despite the fact that you're a grown-ass adult, you have a perpetual headache, and your boobs hurt. Like, a lot.

I wish I knew a way to help those who might read this and find their experience mirrors mine. (Yes, I have tried meditation. Please suggest literally anything else.) I think the best I can do is reiterate what I said before: Things Do Matter, and the world is a better place because you're in it. Do not let the Dark Place lie to you about that.

Also, I hear that certain vitamins are supposed to help. I will report back if I have any positive movement on that front.

[freya-fallen]

Yandere Sebastian Michaelis

CWs: stalking, demons, non-con kiss

word count: 1174

Part 2

It is the cats that draw him, naturally.

He first sees you as you're luring a pregnant queen into a carrier. By the way she butted against your hand, you were already familiar.

"I know, Your Majesty, but I want to get you home before that storm hits." You gaze at the impending clouds in the distance. There was a light snow just the other day, and the cold snap doesn't seem to be getting better.

The lady cat eventually acquiesces, and you saunter away with her.

A few months later, he sees you holding a little orange kitten up for an inn keeper as the man sits on his porch with his morning pipe.

"Rudy will be an excellent mouser, and he's easily the biggest of his litter. He'll keep away other toms."

The man's eyes narrow. "Is he snipped?"

You nod. "Yes, sir, and fully healed. You'll have no kittens from this boy."

After a moment, the inn keeper scratches behind one of the tom's ears. Even from a distance, Sebastian hears the purring of the content little creature.

"All right, I'll take him." There is an exchange, and then you're walking away.

Sebastian follows you home, a quaint little flat that is nevertheless neat-- well, except for the messes made by the Felines residing therein.

There are blankets hither and thither, makeshift toys, the occasional item that has been knocked from a surface.

As you enter, two little tufts of fur amble across your foot, playing until one bites too hard and the other shrieks.

"Alba, don't be so rough with him." You reach down and separate the white and cream girl from her grey brother, kissing both on their noses. "Sorry, Ash, honey." The grey kitten is the smaller of the two.

He watches for a few moments as you put out food. There are three kittens total-- the girl and boy he saw before, and another orange tabby that's lighter in color than the one you gave the inn keeper-- and their mother.

A scraggly old black cat waits for his own bowl. You favor him with pets as he eats, cooing at the ancient creature. "That's my boy."

Hung on one wall is a large map of the area, pins marking locations in different colors, little notes written across it. You hum and place another pin as he watches-- green. It's where the inn stands, unless he's mistaken.

Sebastian smiles to himself as he leaves.

--

You don't know you've attracted the attention of a demon. You're just going about your life, providing care for animals, fostering and finding homes for stray cats in particular. People treat cats like garbage so often, and they're really lovely creatures. Cats are caring, social, more intelligent than people give them credit, and can be quite useful.

You've placed mousers on so many farms and local business, even a ship or two.

Your life is fairly quiet unless there are kittens to tend (especially orphans; they take constant care when younger than six weeks).

And then you start waking in the night.

It's nothing, you tell yourself. Just the cats.

But something doesn't feel right.

So you sneak out of bed one night when you just can't put your mind at ease and down the stairs to your living area. Your current fosters are all staring at a shadowed corner, and Whisper (your senior cat, whom you found sick some years ago) sits in your rocking chair, alert. He turns to you with those lantern yellow eyes, then to the corner.

"H-hello?" You don't know what prompts you to speak.. maybe it's the way the cats are acting as if there's something-- someone there. As you watch, little Rufus trills and rubs against the darkness.

You gasp.

Everything seems to happen all at once.

The shadow blurs with movement. You trip over a stair and sprawl back on flight, elbows catching with a bang. The cats scatter. There's a delicate click across the bare parts of your floor. A creak. A soft chuckle. You squeeze your eyes closed.

"My, my, quite the perceptive little thing, aren't you?" The voice is like warm, velvet fur across your electrified nerves, and your fear heightens. "It's alright, Miss." Something brushes your cheek. Your breath rattles in and out.

"What do you want?" The words are so small you wonder that it--he-- they-- hear it.

There's another chuckle, like the being is hovering over you. "I'm merely satisfying my curiosity."

You frown, and the being reads the question there.

"I had to meet these lovely cats you keep safe and warm."

The ludicrous statement forces a nervous giggle from you. "You came to see my cats?"

"Indeed."

It's said with such seriousness that your eyes pop open and your breath comes easier.

In front of you is a man. He's quite handsome; tall, lithe, with hair that blends into the night, skin that gathers what little light slips through your windows, and eyes that bleed crimson even in the inky darkness. He smiles down at you, a beautiful expression.

"How did you get in here?" You wonder.

He gestures. "Through the door."

"But I locked it," you argue.

"Did you?"

Your tongue darts across dry lips. You're certain you did. You do every night. You're very careful about locking your door before bed.

"You know, you're very pretty like this."

Alarms bells sound in your head at the compliment, despite his affable manner.

Your eyes dart around the room, but there's no safety. You slowly ease up a stair.

The sculpted lines of his face fall into a frown. "Are you going to run away from me? That would not be a good idea."

"Why not?" You slip up another step.

His scarlet eyes gleam. "I don't know that I can resist the chase."

Your heart thuds against your ribs, your pulse becomes a rushing river in your ears, and you can feel the beat through the arteries in your throat. As though he can hear your terror, his lips spread in a wide smile.

In the darkness you can just make out the flash of fangs

You turn and flee toward your bedroom.

Before you make it to the top, a vice wraps around one ankle and tugs you down, down, down, bumping painfully along the way.

When you reach the rug in the center of your living area, he flips you into your back, kneeling over your prone form. "I told you running was a bad idea."

He looks like a cat with a cornered mouse. You cower, but his long fingers curls around your wrists before you can curl in on yourself.

"Now you've made me hungry."

Do those canines look longer? Sharper? And his nails are pointed and black. There's a strange mark on the back of one hand.

"You are too delectable." His tongue flicks wetly across his lips. As he begins to close in, you accept you're about to die.

Your body tenses, eyes shut, lips part with a gasp--

And something soft and hot presses to your mouth. Slick muscle strokes against your tongue, and you belatedly realize your midnight visitor is kissing you.

[evolutionsvoid]

The Waniguchi is a rather visually striking species of amphibian that is found far east, dwelling within the many rivers and ponds. While some may assume it a kind of lizard at first glance, these creatures are actually large salamanders, bearing wide round heads and damp scaleless skin. What may cause this confusion are the numerous hardened bumps that dot their hide, perhaps giving the impression of scales. Some of these hardened circles grow to bigger sizes, providing a sort of crude armor for the salamander. Also running along its body are notable crests, believed to aid the males in winning over mates. While they are quite flashy, most people are drawn more to the head of the Waniguchi, which is said to have quite the signature shape and markings to it. The locals have likened it to a special bell that they have, due to its rounded flat appearance. Thus this species gained their name from that very bell!  

When it comes to their daily lives, Waniguchi pretty much spend their time either sleeping or waiting. They lurk on the bottom of water bodies, typically hiding in burrows, under rocks or tucked into crevices. They feed upon fish, crustaceans, worms and bugs, or any small aquatic critter that swims too close. Their mouths open wide to suck in prey, and then a multitude of tiny sharp teeth to grab hold! Anything they catch, they swallow whole, and then they either go back to waiting for more food, or simply fall asleep to digest the day's catch. Not a complicated lifestyle, but there is certainly beauty in simplicity! And I am sure there are some folk that are envious of an easy life of just eating and sleeping!

While the Waniguchi is by no means an utterly bizarre or crazy creature, what is interesting to note is its place in local culture. I mentioned before that the people have named it after a bell of theirs, but that isn't where things ended. These calm, simple amphibians are seen as protective spirits or guardians, which appears to be a common theme with salamanders in this region. They are also said to be wise, and their mere presence can bring about blessings. Thus, Waniguchi have been taken in as pets and shrine animals, given a place to live within sacred pools and ponds. If you find yourself at any shrine that has an ornamental water body near it, you can be sure a Waniguchi lives within it! The caretakers of these places feed them and ensure their ponds are in perfect condition, as it is vital to keep the salamanders happy! It should be noted that it is decades of breeding these salamanders that has led to the domesticated breeds having such beautiful head patterns. I can't imagine the amount of work it took to get them to have such a similar look to the bells themselves! That being said, the wild ones do not have nearly as intricate of a design to them, being much more muddled, mottled and dull. Regardless, they are treated with the same level of respect, and it is illegal to harass them or harm them in any way. I should point out that this includes throwing coins and random crap into their ponds! There are special fountains and boxes to put coins and donations, you clods! If you chuck that stuff into their pools, there is a chance they may swallow them, get sick or even die! So read the signs, respect the rules and keep your garbage out of their homes! Do know that if I catch you breaking that rule, than I too will partake in reckless stupid behavior and toss you into the pool too!    

Chlora Myron

Dryad Natural Historian

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"Waniguchi"

Not much to really say with this one, as I was not able to learn much about the Waniguchi yokai, but it was kind of funny that descriptions often called the bell shape "crocodilian" meanwhile the giant salamander is just sitting right there with the roundish flat head. 

[eriexplosion]

MOVING FROM SOME EASY EPISODES TO THE HARDEST. OUTPOST.

Do y'all remember the hype for this episode like we knew it was THE Crosshair episode and everyone was absolutely thirsting for it.

"A new friend is made on a harsh and unforgiving outpost planet" WHO WROTE THIS SUMMARY?

Like yes technically accurate as it doesn't specify that the new friend survives the friendship.

Crosshair clearly paying much more attention to the regs these days, at this point I do think he's pretty much had all his bullshit beaten out of him when it comes to thinking he's better than anyone else. Just in time for Crosshair's Worse Time Parade to start.

Much like Hemlock, Lieutenant Nolan is established as absolute garbage the instant he sees Crosshair taking like two seconds to breathe out of his helmet and tells him he's out of uniform. If The Bad Batch can do one thing it's write a man that sucks.

AND THEN HE MAKES IT WORSE WITH "I DON'T LIKE USED EQUIPMENT"

Literally would kill this man myself and he's been on screen for 30 seconds

THE ICE VULTURE <3 OUR BOY'S NEW MOTIF <3

MAYDAY. MAYYYYYDAYYYYYY.

HE IS HERE!

God Mayday was complicated because like I loved him from the moment I saw him but also like, coming into this episode just logistically we knew anyone that showed Crosshair a hint of kindness was almost certainly going to get killed, so Mayday is loved for the exact thing that put him on the path to narrative doom. Reinforcements or no reinforcements, it doesn't matter, Mayday was never leaving Barton IV alive.

They waited 36 rotations. 4 days longer than Crosshair was left to nearly starve on a platform. If I remember correctly (I'm not there yet) Crosshair says the trip took 2 hours. None of their lives were worth two hours.

THE WAY MAYDAY HAS TWO, TWO MEN LEFT UNDER HIS COMMAND. ONLY TWO. HE HAD TO WATCH THE REST ALL DIE UNDER HIS WATCH. I AM SO FUCKING UNWELL ABOUT HIM.

I really love the name Hexx btw

"Respect is something to be earned." And immediately Nolan goes nuclear to insult him because he wasn't instantly given unconditional deference.

YEP IT WAS TWO HOURS. TWO HOURS OUT OF THE WAY.

I am going to scream from the layers of unfair this is.

The way Mayday's voice softens a touch when left alone with Crosshair though, always gentler with another clone.

I'm still not over the LONG pause after Mayday introduces himself, like Crosshair is trying to dig past the shields he put up between himself and his situation to remember his own name. He probably hasn't heard it at all since Cody.

Mayday looked at Crosshair and apparently felt the desperation for company rolling off him in smothering waves because he instantly is just like 'you're under my wing now'

That he's been out here over a year meaning that the Empire has been established for over a year is a lot to take in like god Crosshair has been away from home for so long.

"You'll freeze to death in that armor" He is like 10 seconds from wrapping Crosshair in a blanket I swear to god I'm only slightly projecting.

"Vicious creatures, but you have to admire 'em. They find a way to survive." GOD I LOVE THAT LINE. ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC.

Using the explosion through heat vision to completely screw Crosshair's up for the shot was such a good excuse to have him just wound the guy instead of kill him, lol.

Still was surprised to see a blood trail in this cartoon, but sure they can't show us any sign of Tech's body right (YES I AM STILL ON THIS AND WILL BE UNTIL THEY SHOW US THE BOY)

Goddddd him putting Hexx and Veetch's helmets next to all of the others. His very last brothers, the men he was responsible for, god I am in tatters about it. Every second of this episode is just. Grief and Pain.

"Remind me not to die on your watch" Don't worry you're the only person that's been nice to him in months he will literally drag you through hell to save your life. Crosshair just has what we call "Something is wrong with him" disease and all of his words pass through the cortex that makes him rude before getting to you.

My thoughts on this mine disarming scene are Many but let it just be said that I still cannot believe they put this on my screen, it was made explicitly for me to be feral to.

Mayday has learned fast how to talk to Crosshair though, gotta give him some snark back.

"They're... gone." "And here we are. The survivors."

GOD I AM UNHINGED ABOUT THIS.

"If I don't hear a boom then I'll know it worked." "Glad you're confident in your work." "Oh I'm confident, I'm just not stupid."

I just love this back and forth dynamic that they hit perfectly and immediately.

Hey Crosshair actually wins a hand to hand fight all he has to do is sneak up on them and not give them the opportunity to actually hit him back.

Shout out to the guy whose first instinct was to try and RUN MAYDAY OVER WITH A CAR like it didn't work but impressive ingenuity.

Clones dying to guard the gear intended for their replacements god it makes me ILL.

"We're good soldiers. We followed orders. And for what?"

The entire thing is designed to drive a wedge into Crosshair's brain and break through the thick shield he's built around himself where he is so sure if he just follows orders Well Enough maybe he can make everything he's done and lost worth it in the end but he can't because he never had a future in the Empire and no amount of sunk cost fallacy will change that.

AND JUST IN TIME FOR HIS EPIPHANY WE GET THE AVALANCHE.

Literally would be so fascinating to see exactly what was running through Mayday's head when he chose to push Crosshair out of the way of the rock instead of jumping to safety himself. He just met this guy, he's not technically responsible for him, but Mayday has lost every single soldier he was in command of, sole survivor of his unit, and he finally, finally had the opportunity to save someone. If he only saves one person, maybe he's done something worthwhile.

And honestly, Crosshair is trying to do the same back to him. Just Mayday dies knowing he succeeded and Crosshair lives knowing he failed.

I am fucking destroyed by this episode by the way like it is so unbearably good and also tragic as hell.

Mayday trying to get Crosshair to leave him behind and the music when Crosshair decides absolutely the fuck not. That they have one helmet between them and Crosshair put it on Mayday's head and not his own.

THE MUSIC AS CROSSHAIR IS SO DETERMINED TO DRAG HIM BACK AND THE ICE VULTURE OVERHEAD MY GOD.

The moment of them huddling together in a tiny little hideaway in the rock ends me too, like, images that stick in my head forever.

And despite everything Crosshair made it he got Mayday back to the outpost alive, he did everything to accomplish the impossible and it should have been enough, but it wasn't all because Nolan doesn't value either of their lives enough to even lift a single finger for Mayday.

Like Crosshair accomplishing the impossible through sheer stubbornness only to have it pulled away at the last second I am in AGONY.

HE GAVE MAYDAY HIS SNIPER RIFLE TO USE AS A CRUTCH FOR GODS SAKE

Crosshair taking Mayday's helmet off and at least giving him one last moment of human connection before it's over

The voice acting in this moment is absolutely unbelievable but especially on 'Help him' like give DBB all the money in the world because I was shattered.

THE FACT THAT THEY MADE US LISTEN TO MAYDAY GURGLE COUGH OUT HIS LAST BREATH AND SEE THE INSTANT HIS EYES ROLL BACK AND CLOSE

"He served his purpose as a soldier of the Empire" OWN WORDS THROWN BACK INTO HIS FACE LIKE A FUCKING PUNCH

The way Crosshair's words drop back down into a growl as he says "You could have saved him." is so good too.

The music as it all reaches its boiling point, as he sees the vulture's shadow, then Mayday's body, then the vulture itself just. Oh god. This episode is a masterpiece and I'm still not over it. I don't think I'll ever be over it.

Like I still cannot BELIEVE we got this shot? The rock wings? I'm? Inconsolable?

Crosshair really probably thought he was going to die right there next to Mayday and honestly I think he was okay with it, in the worst way possible. Also him unconscious here is literally THE most relaxed I think we've ever seen his face.

But because this is only the start of Crosshair's Life Getting Much Much Worse he gets to live and wake up in a horrible science lab!

The sedative injection is much worse given the way that they torture him later.

"Cooperate and you might survive."

Literally one of the best episodes of anything I've ever seen I still cannot believe that we got it, truly. This episode is like 95% of the reason I have faith in the writers pulling through on the Tech Issue because I don't think anyone that gave Crosshair this episode arc would actually kill Tech off in such a stupid way on a completely pointless side quest.

I'm still on the rock wings and will be until further notice.