#and they eat mosquitos if i am right

[disproportionatelysculpting]

do you know her? the girl weirdly obsessed about dragonfly-s?

[the-kipsabian]

had a mcfucking panic attack jfc

[l1vchuu]

resentment. part two

!! warnings: fainting, eating disorders, slow burn, angst, mainly focused on f!reader.

You closed your eyes as you waited, waiting for it to pass. The soft tone of her voice rang in your ears, scraping them like sandpaper to wood. Amelia wasn’t alone, nor was she with Ghost, she was talking to somebody else. You could barely pick up the voice of the other person, but for sure it was a deep, male voice. 

Alejandro, you thought to yourself. Yeah, everybody knows how flirty he can get, no wonder why he would stick to her like a mosquito. 

“So, you said you were from where? You have a slight accent. Wait- let me guess- Texas?”

The girl laughed at his guess, shaking her head.

“Nope, try again!”

“Okay, okay… Missouri?”

Amelia laughed even harder. 

“Kansas.” 

She finally admitted, a big smile planted on her delicate, soft face. Alejandro brought a hand up his face, shaking his head in disappointment. 

So, if Ghost isn’t with her, where is he then?

Your computer monitor turned on and lit up your face, making you squint your eyes, adjusting to the sudden appearance of light. You returned your attention to your monitor, completely ignoring the back-to-back flirt in the hallway. You opened up the browser, getting ready to start the working day. 

It was 12 pm, the sun was shining and the sky was oh so clear, with a few soft transparent clouds placed randomly among it. The gentle soft sun rays entered your office, brightening the room. You had already opened a window or two, letting the breeze in. Piles of papers and files were stacked on your desk, most of them marked and signed with highlighters and red pens. Since you were still taking a break from the previous mission, all you have to do now is paperwork, which was easy for you. The last time Captain Price called you, he said that you weren’t going on any missions anytime soon, since a teammate got severely injured on the way back to base, leading him to his passing. That was the reason for Amelia's appearance- to fill a hole in the team until someone else arrives. Someone better.

You yawned, taking a slight break from working- you had the whole day to get done with it, so why not take a walk around the base?

You stood up from your chair, stretching your arms and legs, hence you’ve been working since 6 am. You took off your blue light glasses as you headed out the door, closing it behind you. You looked around- it was another work day for everyone. Turning your heel, you began walking towards the shooting range. On your way, you passed through Ghost and Kyle’s office, taking a slight peek, you finally saw Simon. Your eyes lit up but did they lit up with rage or happiness? He was sitting at his desk, checking papers. Simon was wearing his balaclava only, not even bothering to put on eye grease like he usually does. As his eyes began to look your way, you immediately picked up the pace, passing through every office until you found the range. 

Your heartbeat has fastened again,

Why did I react like that? 

You couldn’t understand, why did you walk away, when you could’ve gotten inside or at least said hi? 

But, no, he didn’t deserve that. He couldn’t even bother asking where had you been last night, why was your body covered up in bandages? But you knew you couldn’t tell him, it’s not like he doesn’t know your past- he knows everything about you. And it pained you even more, seeing your puffy eyes, seeing your body, it ached for him. You ached for him. Did he even notice? Did he notice your existence at all? Did Amelia completely delete every memory of you? Was he in love with her? 

Why did you care if he was- He was your best friend, right? Right.

Do best friends cry every time they feel like the other doesn’t pay attention to them? Do best friends sob every night, wanting to feel the other's touch and affection? Do best friends harm themselves when they feel like they’re not enough for the other? Do best friends lose themselves for the other? 

You rested your back against the wall, trying to keep your balance. As everyone leaves their offices to eat lunch, you hear footsteps coming toward you. You turned your head in their direction- Soap, with a gentle smile, approached you.

“Well hello there!”

He stands beside you as you nodded at him, forcing a quick smile.

“Wanna eat? I’m starving!” 

Soap says as he puts an arm around you, pulling you with him. As he continued the way down the cafeteria he was blabbing all about his day, getting mad as he spoke. But you barely paid any attention to him, it’s like your ears are filled with white noise.

When you approached the table, you sat across from Johnny.

“Hey, why didn’t you get any food?” 

“I’m not hungry, I ate before this.”

You lied. You haven’t eaten anything since yesterday’s lunch. The only thing in your stomach was the coffee from this morning.  And- if you were to eat anything, the first thing you would be able to do is to throw it all up so you weren’t hungry at all.

Soap nodded, eating his lunch as you two sat in silence. He looked at you, wondering about something. He knew something had changed in you, he just couldn’t place a finger on what. He notices your swollen eyes:

“Have you gotten any sleep? You look like a corpse.”

“Very funny.”

“No, like, not joking. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Johnny. It’s just stress, you know the drill.”

“Just making sure, you know.”

“Don’t worry about me, where is Gas?”

“Kyle is on cleaning duty- he accidentally broke the printer in Price's office.”

He held onto his laugh. Your eyes widened.

“No way! How did he manage to fuck up like that?”

“Don’t know, it’s a talent at this point!”

You laughed, calming down a little bit. Soap was usually the person who messed stuff up and got punished later in the process. You looked around, your eyes scanning the cafeteria. You know who you are looking for. He wasn’t there. Johnny caught your gaze, again, something was off. 

“So uhh, I haven’t seen you talk to Ghost in a while, did something happen?”

You almost choked on your spit as you looked at him, your pupils dilating. 

Shit.

“Nah, just work.”

Johnny knew, of course, since him and Ghost are close, too. He decided not to integrate any further so he just nodded. Simon told him about you, and his situationship with Amelia. 

Everybody knew how close you and Simon are, since you’ve always been together, weather it was in training or just hanging out. On the other hand, everyone thought that you were dating at some point, which usually made you laugh. 

Johnny thought for a minute, wondering if he wanted to tell you or not. He knew about your feelings, especially with the new recruit coming along, he understood you. But he thought it would be better to tell you sooner or later. 

“Amelia and Ghost are hooking up.”

And that was the worst way he could’ve told you, but he did. You looked at him, unfazed. 

“I know.”

No, I didn’t, but now things were clearer. 

A few hours have passed since lunch and you tried so hard to accept the news, but your body had other plans. Your stomach twisted at every thought about it, making you feel sick. You were sick.

…

It has been a month, and you couldn’t feel worse. 

One day you were at your desk, filling papers until you felt your head almost burst open from pain. You winced, holding your head in your hands, you couldn’t feel a thing, only immense pain. Your head was throbbing and throbbing, until your body felt lighter- then you fainted. 

Usually, nobody comes to your desk at this late hour, so absolutely no one noticed. As your unconscious body was laying on your desk, your office phone rang- it was Price. The ringing continued for a while, the vibrations causing your desk to shake a bit. But you were laying there, you weren't there.

After he called you about three times, he came to your office. At first, he thought you were sleeping and called your name even louder- but when you didn’t answer, he went closer to check on you, and then he saw. The realization hit him.

As he checked your pulse, he sighed out of relief. Without panicking, he called a medic to get you checked.

You had a dream again.

You were laying in a field and the smell of grass and flowers filled your lungs. The nice spring wind was dancing in the air, you have never felt so peaceful. The birds sang beautifully and you were staring at the clear sky. The weather wasn't cold, yet not too warm. In the distance you could see a path, leading to a nearby lake.

Maybe I should go there.

You stood up, the wind welcoming you as it flew through your hair. You walked through the field, the beautiful sight making you feel full. You couldn't have been happier.

When you got to the lake, you sat on the porch. The coldness of the wood hitting your legs, you looked around. This place felt similar to you, you've been there before. You rested on the porch for a while, letting your legs soak in the lake water as you enjoyed the view- the trees resting on top of the lake, birds flying in and out of them as if they were playing tag.

All of these creatures- yet you still felt so alone.

So alone, you wanted to tear your body to pieces, hoping that would make you feel needed- maybe even cared for. But you weren't.

The only person who understood every particle of your brain is gone now. He wasn't there. It's like you never existed to him. All of these empty glances and smiles. Why?

Why is he not there when you need it the most? Oh, wait. He caused it. He made you do this. Or did he? What if it's all you? What if it is all your fault?

It is your fault.

A bird came up to you, sweet and little. You lowered your head to look at it, smiling. It looked up at you with its' cute and small eyes. And then it spoke to you.

Who are you?

You blinked, your brain registering the information.

I'm talking to you! Who are you?

You tilted your head, not knowing how to answer.

I'm a human.

I can see that, but it's not what I'm asking. Who are you?

You stopped for a bit, confused. You didn't quite understand what the bird was asking you.

You don't look quite good, what happened to you?

It was true, you didn't look good. Your eyes were swollen and a bit red- a purple tint around them, forming black circles.

Nothing happened. I'm okay.

You're lying, you don't look okay.

I'm just a little tired. You know, from work and all.

Only tired? You look like you're sick.

Yeah, I haven't eaten in a while.

Why don't you eat?

It's complicated. You're a bird, you won't understand it.

Maybe I'm a bird, but I can see when someone doesn't feel good. What is your work like?

It's not for everyone. It's harsh and dangerous.

Do you think you can handle that?

I've worked there for a lot of time, and I could handle it.

I'm supposed to be strong, right? You thought to yourself.

But you look weak, are you sure you're made for it?

It's just temporary, I'll get better.

Are you sure? When I feel tired from carrying sticks, I take a break. Why don't you take a break?

Why don't you take a break?

You thought about that for a bit, you could take a break. A long brake. A vacation even. Why don't you just quit the job? I mean, you could. You can just leave and return to your hometown, and start living a new life, apart from all the torture and pain.

That sounds good, but all of my friends are there.

If all of your friends are there, why do you still feel this way? My friends help me when I'm sad- and I help them.

But I don't have anyone back home.

That's not true- you have yourself. One person can change a lot of things in your life, why can't that person be you? You could always make new friends.

But I don't feel great when I'm alone.

Learning to like solitude takes time, but you'll get there eventually.

A whistle could be heard from the distance, making the bird jump.

Oh, that was for me- I have to go! See you around!

The bird flew into the trees, leaving you alone again. That encounter left you speechless for a while.

Maybe the bird was right. You can always leave.

-

When you woke up, you weren’t in the place where you fell asleep in. You looked around, trying to understand the situation. When the nurse came in, she told you everything. You had fainted out of exhaustion.

When you felt better enough to walk, you asked if you could get checked out. She nodded, writing stuff on her pad as she checks you out. She also told you to visit Price’s office. You thanked her and went straight to his door. As you knocked, he told you to come in. When you came in, he smiled at you:

“Feeling better?”

You nodded. He motions you to sit on the chair, and you did that.

You sat in silence for a bit.

"Look, you might not know it- but the boys are worried about you. You stay in your office all day-"

"I want to take a break."

You interrupt, looking at him with your swollen eyes. He nods.

"A break? Sure, you can take a break."

"When can I leave?"

"How long will you be leaving for? Two weeks? One week?"

"A month."

"A month? Are you sure about that- I mean- I could give you that but we'll have to replace you."

"No, I'm sure."

"Okay then, I'll file the papers later and you can leave tomorrow morning. Is that okay for you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Alright, do you want me to say anything to the rest of the team?"

"No, sir."

He nods again.

"You can go and get your things ready, Sergant. Have a nice break and..."

He pauses for a bit.

"Stay safe."

You nodded as you stood up and headed to the door. You exited and went back to your room. It was empty, no wonder.

Fortunately, Ghost was on a night shift, which meant that you wouldn't have to explain yourself. It's not like he would care, right?

You packed your things and laid on your bed, looking up at the ceiling. You'll be leaving in an hour.

When the time came, you left the base. Gladly nobody noticed your leave.

But Ghost came home to an empty room. All of the pictures on the walls, your clothes, everything was gone, including you.

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.☆.｡.:

Heyy! I apologize for the late post, I've been busy with school and all that, but here I am. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did. If you want part three, make sure to like or reblog- I'm open to suggestions!

[flowersandbigteeth]

Your werebear mate takes you camping

I've gotten a whole bunch of requests for a sweet moment with Hugo, so this is filling a bunch of them ^_^' This is a lot gentler and fluffier than the other ones, per request :)

General Plot: Hugo wants to teach you some camping skills, so you go on a hike!

Hugo (Werebear) x Female reader

Word Count: 2.5k

W: sweet, fluffy smut, vaginal sex, outdoor sex

NSFW Masterpost <-- previous parts

“Why are we doing this again?” you griped as you smacked another mosquito off of your neck. You paused your march to spray yourself down with more bug spray.

The trees rose up around you, tall and old deep in the forest you were hiking through. Ahead of you Hugo cleared a path through the brush with his wide body, bending whatever saplings he encountered out of the way. 

“So that you can learn some survival skills,” he said cheerfully. 

He loved hiking and the great outdoors. It was one of his favorite hobbies. Usually he went by himself or with another bear from his pack, but this time he’d insisted you tag along. 

“You’d be totally helpless if you were lost in the wilderness. I’m going to teach you some things,” he went on. 

Something rustled in the brush and you skipped a bit to catch up to him and buried your hand in his fur. 

“When am I going to be lost in the wilderness?” you asked, “you gonna abandon me here?” 

A deep chuckle erupted from his lips as he snapped another sapling. 

“Of course not honey cake,” he said, “but you never know when you’ll need to know how to start a fire or set a trap. What if your plane went down in the forest and you had to survive until rescue came?” 

You let out a deep sigh, sure that would never happen. 

“Are we even allowed to be here?” you asked. 

You’d strayed from the trail long ago and now Hugo was leading you deep into the woods. Your pant legs were already shredded from brambles and the mosquitos were terrible. 

“Who knows?” he said, shrugging his massive shoulders, “but I have someplace special to show you.” 

“Is it much further?” you whined. 

“Not much,” he offered vaguely. 

While you dragged one foot in front of the other, you daydreamed about being in a nice air conditioned coffee shop with a large iced latte in your hand. 

“My legs are tired,” you pouted to Hugo, “if we don’t stop soon, I’m going to drop dead right where I’m standing.” 

You heard him laugh, before he turned to you and scooped you up in his arms. 

“I should make you walk,” he grumbled, “in a real life situation I won’t be here to carry you.” 

Giggling up at him you snuggled deeper into his arms, rubbing your face against his furry chest. 

“Good thing we’re not in a real life situation. I’d have already given up and would be eaten by wolves,” you said. 

You felt his chest rumble as he chuckled. 

“I bet you’d be delicious,” he said, pinching your bottom with the hand holding you up, “they would tell their pups stories about your tender flesh and lament that they couldn’t have it again.”

You looked up at him and narrowed your eyes. 

“Sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into this,” you said, giving him a flat laugh. 

“Don’t worry,” he snickered, “if anything is going to eat you it will be me.”  

You patted him on his furry chest and giggled, your cheeks warming a bit. Somewhere in the distance you heard rushing water, getting louder each step Hugo took closer to it. 

Finally, the trees thinned and you peaked out of Hugo’s big arms to see a beautiful waterfall. Water rushed over the many large rocks that appeared to have tumbled out of the mountain creating shelves as the water worked its way down. 

“This is beautiful, Hugo,” you gasped, taking in the lovely green foliage that crowded the fall. At the base a clear pool filled with fat fish and multicolored river rock collected ice cold water from the mountain top. 

He set you down on a rock overlooking the peaceful scene, taking the pack off of your back and started setting things up. You’d brought plenty of supplies, since Hugo could carry a lot on his back. The only thing missing was a tent, as he informed you that it would be much better to sleep underneath the stars. With him around you didn’t have to worry about predators sneaking up on you in the dark. 

When he’d organized your little camp, he started a fire. You watched him step out of the old pair of jeans he was wearing and gasped. His body never ceased to excite you. Even covered in fur, you could make out the planes of his impeccable muscles, flexing as he kicked off his pants. You swallowed a sip of water from your bottle, taking in the thick cock nestled between his thighs. It took you a moment to even question why he was undressing. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” you stammered and he shot you a predatory flash of fang. 

“I’m going to catch us some dinner,” he explained, turning away from you and wading into the water. 

The sun was already getting low in the sky, the rocky mountainside casting long shadows over your camp. You had no idea how Hugo could see, but apparently his vision was much better than yours. Curious about his technique you watched him standing stock still in the rushing water, his sharp eyes cast down. It was a testament to his size that the water just moved around him. It would have knocked you off of your feet in a second, but Hugo stood like a statue. Then he was a blur, striking the water with his large hands. A second later he tossed a thick fish next to you on the ground. 

You jumped, surprised and hurried to capture the fish before it flopped back in the water. Comically grasping the fish as it thrashed in your hands, all you could think to do was walk a few steps away from the water’s edge and shove it in the pot you’d brought to cook with and stick the top on. 

Not sure what to do with the first fish, you certainly weren’t sure what to do with the three more Hugo tossed at you. When he finally got out of the water, he shook it out of his fur like a dog. He shot you a big smile as you tried to wrestle the other fish that were gasping for air. 

“Come here,” he said, taking one of the fish from you and scooping up the other two, “I’ll show you how to dress them. 

After that gross lesson, he put the cleaned fish on sticks, propping them over the fire. 

You sat down next to Hugo, cuddling into his warmth as the temperature dropped. The sun was already behind the mountain and the sky was turning a rich bluey-purple. 

“It’s official,” you said, “I’m never going into nature without you. I would never be able to gut those guys by myself.” 

He chortled, putting an arm around you. The campsite was filled with the delicious smell of roasting fish and your stomach grumbled with anticipation. When they were done, Hugo carefully extracted yours and sliced it up so you could eat it easily. He chewed on his right off of the stick. By that time the stars were popping out one by one in the inky sky. Out this far there was no light pollution so your mouth hung open as you took it all in. 

“There’s so many!” you chirped, as you leaned back into Hugo’s fur to observe them. “It’s beautiful.” 

He chuckled behind you, his belly full. 

“See? Camping’s not so bad, is it?” he asked into your ear. 

You felt his soft, fluffy fur brushing your neck and a shiver rolled over your body. Pursing your lips you gave him a fake pout. 

“Like I said,” you sulked, “I’m only coming out here with you. I couldn’t do any of this on my own.” 

He wrapped his big arms around you and squeezed you tight. 

“No one else better be taking you on camping trips,” he said, “or they are going to have to fight off a very angry bear.” 

You rubbed your cheek into his furry chest and yawned, tired after the long walk. 

“Let’s get you tucked in,” he murmured. 

He rolled out two sleeping bags and you pouted. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, reading the disappointment on your face. 

“Nothing,” you snapped. 

His eyebrow rose as you fussily got into your sleeping bag and huffed, turning away from him. You were being a little childish because you were kind of cranky after the long hike. 

“It’s cold,” you pouted. 

You heard Hugo let out a rumbling laugh and drew your brows, annoyed that he found it funny. 

“Come here honey cake,” he said, extracting you from your sleeping bag like you weighed little more than a doll and pulled you into his. 

“Did you want to sleep next to me?” he asked. 

You felt silly, so you just nodded into his chest, snuggling into his warmth. He laughed again, stroking your hair. 

“I should have guessed,” he whispered, “look up.” 

You weren’t sure what you were supposed to be looking at, getting comfy next to your mate, but when you did your eyes popped. The sky was streaked with shooting stars. 

“I chose tonight because there is a meteor shower,” he said, his thick fingers brushing the hairs crowding your face out of the way. 

“This…this is amazing Hugo,” you gasped, unable to tear your eyes away. 

Hugo watched for a moment with you before his interests turned elsewhere. The pads of his fingers traced your neck and then across your shoulder blades. Instinctively, you cast your gaze on him, but he nudged your chin back up. 

“Don’t look at me,” he purred, “keep watching.” 

Your body was tingling with anticipation as he pushed your shirt up and tugged your bra down to get access to your breasts. His big warm hands cupped them and you could feel the delicious prick of his claws on your skin. You tried your best to keep your eyes on the many streaks of color lighting up the sky, but your eyelashes fluttered with pleasure. 

A low moan left your lips as his warm mouth closed over your nipple, circling it with his tongue. His touch was so familiar and comforting. You never wanted another person to touch you the way and the places he did. He possessed your body and you eagerly accepted his attention. 

“Hugo!” you gasped, arching your back so that he had better access to you. 

His fingers tugged at the other nipple, making you mewl out loud. Your panties were already soaked, feeling sticky against your skin. 

“Please, Hugo. More,” you managed to mutter and you felt his body, tucked so close in the sleeping bag, rumble with delight. 

His thick fingers unzipped your pants with surprising dexterity and slid them off you, leaving only your wet panties. A thumb traced your slit, stopping at your clit to stroke languid circles. You gasped and keened, pressing your mound into his fingertips. 

With a tearing sound, you realized his claws had sliced right through the chaste cotton panties you were wearing, leaving you bare for his fingers to explore. He dipped a thick digit inside of you, collecting some of your wetness before he circled your needy bundle of nerves with it. 

His mouth found yours, his thick tongue snaking out to taste you. Your peaked nipples brushed the soft fur on his chest, the sensation decadent and luxurious. He was so big looming over you, carefully holding himself up so he didn’t crush you. You adored the way he was incredibly strong but could be so delicate with you. 

You reached out to find his cock, thick and firm, dripping a steady stream of precum. Feeling his need made your insides melt to mush. Your mate wanted you and only you. He hissed in pleasure as you rolled your palm over the wide head, then down his shaft. 

You both moaned and grunted in pleasure as you handled one another. His cock was hot and throbbing in your hand, while he pinched and rubbed your clit faster and harder every second you touched him. He wound the thread of pleasure tighter and tighter until the stars were imprinted on the back of your eyelids. You screamed his name as he pushed you over the edge, bucking your hips into his big hand. 

“Who do you belong to, honey cake?” he muttered, “tell me who makes you feel good.” 

“You Hugo,” you gasped, hardly able to let out the words. 

You heard his approving growl before he pulled you on top of him, letting the sleeping bag fall back so your breasts were exposed to the night air. It was cool, but his big hands roaming over you were so hot, you hardly noticed it. 

“Take what you want, (Y/N),” he groaned, “I want to see you come apart on top of me.” 

You let out a little squeal, lowering your hips onto his thick cock. You always had to take it carefully, he filled and stretched you completely. It took you a minute to slowly descend so that your hips were flush. He let out a rumbling roar when you were fully seated. 

His eyes on you were glittering in the firelight as he took you in. 

“My mate,” he rumbled, “You’re so beautiful. Prettier than a sky full of stars.” 

His words propelled you forward and you bounced on his stiff shaft, pushing yourself higher and higher, towards your end. He cupped your breasts, kneading them and plucking your nipples until your head was thrown back, muttering curses to the silent mountain. 

It was good there was no one around to hear all of the loud, lusty noises you were making. As your pace got erratic, so close to cumming, Hugo took over. His hands gripped your hips, the tips of his claws pricking your skin as he thrust up into you. He took you hard, the sound of your ass slapping his thighs echoed around you. 

“Touch yourself for me,” he growled and you couldn’t deny him, parting your folds with your much smaller fingers and hazily circling your clit. 

Your other hand clutched your bouncing breast, teasing the nipple. All the while Hugo’s hungry gaze ate you up. The way he looked at you, full of sensual longing made you feel like a goddess. You knew he adored every part of you. Every bit of cellulite and every little scar his eyes met with a ferocious greed. 

Not able to hold back any longer, you erupted, hot pleasure washing over your body in thick ripples. He snapped his cock into you once, twice, then on the third time you felt a wave of searing cum fill you as he roared his release. You fell forward, spent, your nose buried in his neck. He stroked your back gently, not ready to pull out of you yet. He pulled the sleeping bag up around you so your skin, damp from sweat, wouldn't make you cold. 

“I love you little honey cake,” he hummed, his voice thick and low. 

“I love you,” you breathed into his neck. 

You let him cuddle and stroke you until you drifted off to sleep with him still inside of you.

[dungeon-meshi-tournament]

Of course asking people which monster they find more fuckable is a good way to get them to say funny things, so I got a lot of funny comments on the Most Fuckable Monster in the Dungeon Tournament. So as usual, I compiled a list of the ones I liked best, ordered by the poll they were commented on. Enjoy!

Barometz vs Dryad (round 1 part 1)

dryad boobs in my mouth please please please you're nothing

Man-eating plant vs Mandrake (round 1 part 1)

getting my dick digested by a pitcher plant

its what laios would have wanted

Skeleton vs Dullahan (round 1 part 1)

why is the armor sweeping?? how are ya'll planning to fuck the armor??? at least the skeleton you could like wedge a vibrator or fleshlight into the pelvis. I forgot this is the celibacy site and fucking is not a real physical thing on here

fools do not see the eroticisim of plate armor

Phoenix vs Harpy (round 1 part 2)

harpy has a tits out kinda look

Griffin vs Hippogriff (round 1 part 2)

Me at first: really? You’d fuck the horse? Me, remembering the barded penises of felines : no wait you’re right

White dragon vs Red dragon (round 1 part 3)

It's canon that white dragons fight furiously while red dragon is the equivalent of that blue hands dinosaur in Prehistoric Planet

white dragon is cuntier somehow

Treasure insects vs Succubus (round 1 part 3)

another tits out kinda look

normal poll matchup. normal poll. do people want to fuck a succubus or inch long insects. who will win

Huge scorpion vs Huge spider vs Mimic (round 1 part 3)

What you do to the mimic is hidden from the eyes of all

The mimics got that dog in it

dark souls mimic resemblances have me thinking unwise

something about the mysterious air around the mimic

Golem vs Ice golem (round 1 part 4)

Same deal but one freezes ur junk off I think the winner is clear

Gargoyle vs Hag (round 1 part 4)

..abusive mother kink????

Familiar vs Jack Frost (round 1 part 4)

familiar is customizable 👍

Doppelganger vs Demon (round 1 part 4)

That stupid sexy cat simply slays too much cunt

Hippogriff vs Fish-man (round 2 part 1)

no offense to my buddy fish-man but that hippogriff is too majestic

Living armour vs Undine (round 2 part 2)

One if the extras has a really perturving bit: Undines fed by consuming liquids with mana. Holm mentions regularly feeding it BODILY FLUIDS.

is wearing living armor anything

White dragon vs Green dragon (round 3)

she made that dragon sooooo cunty and for what

Cockatrice vs Demon (round 3)

you should've put the slutiest picture of the demon. to remind everyone that ryoko -sensei is down BAD

no one: ryoko kui: i am going to make a lion demon that is SOOOOOOO [redacted]

everybody vote for demon! a vote for demon is a love letter to Ryoko Kui

I do find it funny we're blowing the demon whore moments on like, the cockatrice matchup

This manga is so slutty and yet so tasteful in it that you can't really call it anything but great in every aspect of its eroticism

Mermaid vs Harpy (quarter finals)

i am so mad rn. a mermaid !? more fuckable than a harpy!? for shame tumblr for shame

White dragon vs Succubus (quarter finals)

Dragon fluffye!

Chimera vs Mermaid (semi-finals)

sorry mermaid. falin fucks supremely.

sorry falin. gotta stand up for my fellow merfolk here

a vote for chimera is a vote for lesbians

Succubus vs Demon (semi-finals)

Not even the sucubbi stands up to the limitless demon sexo

if you think about it. the succubus can turn into the demon's many forms

Chimera vs Demon (finale)

fags and dykes fighting to the death over this one

Listen man. Even if I'm gay I understand why Falin is winning but- Consider that the demon knows your exact wants and desires and could satisfy your sexual needs perfectly. Also when he's buff and humanoid near the end

either of them deserve to win but demon sweep because that fucker showed up in a dream to me once

teef!!!!

VOTE FOR DYKES. VOTE FOR SLEEPY GIRLS. VOTE FOR SHARP LITTLE TEETH

Mermaid vs Succubus (battle for the bronze)

mermaids can't lose to magical mosquito people PLEASE

[bogleech]

While the hosts as spaceships thing is cool I've always been fascinated by parasites (and other things that live in and on animals since some are beneficial or benign, like gut bacteria and those eyelash mites [though those might technically be parasites? I'm not clear what makes the difference between a harmless parasite and a Guy Who Just Lives On You]) because they make one recontextualize animals as environments and ecosystems in their own right. You are an ecosystem, your dog is an ecosystem, every person and animal you meet is an ecosystem, there are other animals that can and will and sometimes do view you as a hospitable, just right place to live, it amazes me, I am like a desert, plain, or forest, there are creatures that would choose no other place to live than me (which is unfortunate with harmful parasites but AMAZING with the benign/beneficial things that reside on a body, like wow those things wouldn't want to be anywhere else, how nice for both of us)

Yep the majority of life on Earth in terms of total species as well as population numbers is symbiotic in or on other living thing's bodies, and parasitism is the most common form of symbiosis! So mainly we're a planet of very very tiny creatures who mostly have to live inside the mighty titan monsters who can magically live in just the dirt and water. Beneficial body friends are called mutual symbiotes and what they do is mutualism or mutual symbiosis, while sneaky ones that eat you are doing parasitic symbiosis, and guys who are just there for the ride and don't make a big difference are commensal symbiotes. But the lines ARE blurry to the point that for a lot of species we can't even make a meaningful distinction at all. There are some things that feed on their host for instance but they're so small in comparison they don't cause any noticeable harm, so does that make them commensal? How do we decide the cut-off point? Sometimes a commensal creature does feed on something from the host, but it's not something the host usually needs, UNLESS the commensals become overpopulated. For instance, mites that usually eat harmless amounts of extra skin oil can sometimes boom in number until they're taking *too much* skin oil, causing psoriasis! Did they "become" parasitic, then?! Lice are considered ectoparasitic (external parasites) because they breed directly on the host's body and feed on blood. But fleas come and go from their host, raising their young in the surrounding environment, so are they true parasites? Vampire bats and mosquitoes drink blood but they never spend any time living ON another animal, so some in biology have started calling those "micropredators" instead of parasites. It gets extra confusing with "parasitoids," like wasps. We think of a parasite as something that feeds on another animal long-term, without killing it, but parasitic wasp larvae have to kill the host to mature, and that's why they get called "parasitoid" or "parasite-like," which isn't considered a really technical distinction. Maybe we should think of them as a predator, but the adult wasp doesn't *eat* the host, the "parasitic" larva just consumes enough of the host to finally kill it. How slowly does something have to kill its prey to be a predator vs. a parasitoid vs. a true parasite?! Nobody can agree!

[rebeccathenaturalist]

What Are Mosquitoes Good For?

Originally posted at my blog at https://rebeccalexa.com/what-are-mosquitoes-good-for/

Now that the weather has cooled down over much of the United States, insects have died back or gone into hibernation for the winter. So you may be tempted to be glad that the mosquitoes have disappeared for the time being. Maybe you even wish they wouldn’t come back next year! After all, they’re just mosquitoes, which annoy us and spread diseases, right? What are mosquitoes good for, anyway?

Much to the surprise of a lot of people, they actually have some pretty important ecological functions, and your local ecosystem would likely suffer if the mosquitoes were all exterminated. So today, I am going to be a mosquito apologist.

What Are Mosquitoes Good For? Food!

You may have seen hundreds or even thousands of mosquito larvae swimming in a pond or other fresh water. Perhaps you thought every single one of them came to find you after they became adults! They certainly are prolific; some species can lay as many as 300 eggs at once.

But this isn’t just because they want to have more young to annoy you, generation after generation. Rather, it’s because a lot of mosquitoes end up eaten before they even get a chance to reproduce. As eggs and larvae, they’re food for fish, amphibians, and aquatic insects and other arthropods. Once they take to the wing, birds and bats become major predators, as do adult dragonflies and other winged insects, plus spiders that catch them in their webs. While a single bat might not actually eat 1000 mosquitoes in a night, all those various predators do take a significant chunk out of the mosquito population.

Platanthera obtusata is just one of many orchids that rely on mosquitoes for pollination.

What Are Mosquitoes Good For? Pollination!

Believe it or not, most mosquitoes aren’t out for your blood! The majority of mosquito species are entirely vegetarian; it’s only a few in which the females seek out blood to help produce eggs. Most mosquitoes drink nectar or plant sap, and in the pursuit of the former they play a vital role in pollinating the flowers they visit. Goldenrod and orchids are just two examples of groups of plants pollinated by mosquitoes. And while mosquitoes might drive Alaskans buggy, they are vital for pollination during the short Arctic summer.

What Are Mosquitoes Good For? Keeping Things in Check!

Mosquito larvae spend anywhere from a few days to a few weeks in the water where they hatched. They feed on a variety of bacteria, algae, and other microorganisms. Because they have a lot of growing to do, and need to prepare for their final molt to adult form, they have to eat a lot! That means they help keep their prey species’ populations in check. An overgrowth of algae, for example, can reduce the amount of sunlight that submerged plants have access to, and as the algae dies it increases the amount of nitrogen in the water. By constantly grazing on algae, mosquito larvae are helping to prevent these sorts of ecological imbalances.

What If We Made Mosquitoes Go Extinct?

So what are mosquitoes good for? Quite a lot, apparently! However, there’s no denying some species have also caused us a lot of grief. There have been calls to exterminate all mosquitoes, or at least every species that could ostensibly cause us problems through disease transmission. And to be sure, I don’t want to see people dying of malaria or West Nile virus, especially as these diseases often hit disadvantaged populations harder, with fewer resources for treatment. But it’s something where we need to weigh the consequences carefully.

What would happen if there were suddenly no more mosquitoes? Sure, the animals that prey on them could potentially find other sorts of food, but there would be an upset in the food web as the predators put more pressure on remaining prey species, which could lead to some of those species become locally endangered or even extirpated. Or the predators might drop in number as they failed to find enough food. Either way, getting rid of all the mosquitoes would have a negative impact on the food web.

Finally, and possibly most importantly–we may not fully understand the ecological roles mosquitoes have. As I wrote recently, ecosystems are incredibly complex networks of relationships among thousands of species, and for centuries we have been eradicating entire species without any thought as to what long-term effects their loss might have on their native ecosystems.

However, that brings up another point: the fact that there are invasive mosquitoes. Invasive species wreak havoc on ecosystems they’re introduced to, and it just so happens that one of the most notorious disease-spreading mosquitoes, Aedes aegypti, is invasive across much of the tropics, as well as subtropical and temperate areas worldwide. Spread through the slave trade, this mosquito is a prime vector for yellow fever, dengue fever, Zika, and several other pathogenic diseases affecting humans. Its cousin, Aedes albopictus, is also a disease vector and is more cold-hardy, meaning it could spread even further.

What’s the answer? Well, historically people just drained wetlands, much to the devastation of the native ecosystems there. More recently, the widespread and indiscriminate use of pesticides like DDT also knocked back mosquito populations (at least temporarily), but also killed off many other animals both directly and indirectly, to include nearly wiping out multiple raptor species due to eggshell thinning. Moreover, mosquitoes have developed resistance to pesticides, making them a less useful tool overall.

More recent innovations to control specific invasive mosquitoes hold some promise. A. aegypti, for example, has been genetically modified in labs to create a strain known as OX513A. Not only do the offspring die before they can reproduce, even if a OX513A breeds with a wild mosquito, but the offspring also apparently lack resistance to some pesticides. Biological control using Wolbachia bacteria inhibits A. aegypti‘s reproduction, and also makes them unable to carry certain diseases such as Zika and dengue fever.

So it would appear that the fight to control invasive species also has the bonus effect of stopping the mosquitoes most likely to give the rest a bad name.

Did you enjoy this post? Consider taking one of my online foraging and natural history classes, checking out my other articles, or picking up a paperback or ebook I’ve written! You can even buy me a coffee here!

[whole-circus]

Fun summer activities with creepypasta boys! x gn.reader!

➥ with Homicidal Liu, Jeff The Killer, Masky, Ben Drowned, "Ticci" Toby, Laughing Jack English is not my first language so i can make silly mistakes! >:)

.•┈••✦ 🖤 ✦••┈•.

☆ Homicidal Liu - gardening

Okay okay.. but he totally gives off this "plant mom" vibes!!

Just imagine you two planting flowers (eg. Hibiscuses, Marigolds, Daises, Asters, Salvias) or berries (oh god, and later making jam of them..!). Taking care of plants alternately! Because they are your babies and you need to take care of them, right? Almost like parents simulator. Going together to this big markets with plants and spending there literally hours..! Choosing these fancy pots.. OR! Making competition and planting the same plant, see which one grows prettier and faster! And what winners get? Silly question..kissess of course! Also sitting on chairs, having the view on your pretty work and just chatting or drinking tea/coffee and snuggling! Nights would be also cozy..just saying! You two sitting on a blanket, holdings hands or cuddling..dunno man, there is some warm and proud feeling when looking at your plants. Its almost like you watch your kids grown..

„Oh look at them grow! Im so proud of us Y/N” he says with the brightest smile, as his eyes almost shine!

☆ Jeff the Killer - forest hiking

Wild men in wilds? What can be better than that?

Listen, I am sure that Jeff knows forest like the back of his hand. Just you holding hands and walking around forest. You could also do a little competition on picking berries or looking for pretty rocks for eachother (what is more romantic than that??). Also! Maybe animal tracking? That sounds like a fun activity..! On really warms days the bathing in the stream (or just soaking legs if you are constantly cold) - he would definitely push you into water tho, so good luck. If you are behaving well enough, maybe you could even try carvings in wood? And after long, tiring day of having fun? Just laying on the blanket and stargazing, holding hands..

,,I actually had fun today, you know? I love being around you...” he looks into your eyes and gently kisses your hand.

Just remember to be careful and look for ticks after that!..maybe on eachothers body..? (just kidding..or am i?)

☆ Masky - campfire

Im sorry..but I would totally make him a nice marshmallow!

A bit of a dad on barbecue vibe?? Sorry, kidding. Just imagine a nice, warm night and you both sitting on tree trunk, snuggling under a blanket! What will you roast? Anything you want, veggies, meat or marshmallow..just not each other please! I bet he could play something on guitar, and what is more hot than a man that can do that? You singing along to campfire songs or..or whatever he could play. We slowly turning your silly little date to some slasher movie..so why not tell some scary stories or urban legends? You could jump together at the tiniest sounds (it sounds like a good reason to hold hands..just for security ofc). After all, everything is terrifyng in the dark. Oh, just you spending a warm night eating and cuddling..just you two together!..and maybe his bad dad-jokes..and mosquitos..anyways, good luck!

,,Only two of us..I could get used to living like that, you know sweetheart?” he says as he caress your cheek ad look into your eyes, smiling.

☆Ben Drowned - trampoline sleepover

I know its not 2020 anymore..but come on!

First of all..making the trampoline all nice and cozy..many, many blankets, lights and pillows (definitely a pillow fight in the meantime)! When the trampoline-fort is ready? Get snacks and come in! All kinds of junk food are welcome - popcorn, chips, jelly, candies..! Just not the healthy things..okay, maybe strawberries are invited but thats it! What will you guys do? No worries, Ben is definitely a funny fellow (so are you!) so you won't be bored. Playing games on Nintendo? Watching some movies? Playing board games? Just cuddling and laughing at the silly things? Its all up to you! ..Just be careful with scary stories..I dont want you guys to have a heart-attack! And after a night full of cuddling and laughing? The best part of your sleepover - putting cream to help relieve itching on mosquito bites!!

,,Oh man..you are my favorite person in the whole world..you know that?” - Ben gently whispers, giggling, as you hold each other.

☆ "Ticci" Toby - Monopoly night

Good luck..i hope you will survive this devilish game!

You and Toby treating it completely serious.. you know, getting all dressed up into elegant clothes and having the night of your life..or maybe even longer..Hey, you are serious investors! Monopoly deserves to be approach with respect! The other funny idea is just creating the background of character you will play as and trying not to come out of it! Anyways..you sitting opposite and playing against each other. If he is in a good mood, he will let you win just to see your pretty smile! ..well and maybe to finally end your endless game..

,,Ah you got me..you are the best Y/N, arent you? Now..what do you want as a reward?~” - he chuckles softly (if his pupils could turn into the hearts, they totally would!) as you enjoy your victory.

☆ Laughing Jack - making homemade ice creams

Yeah right..what is better than spending time with someone you love and make sweets at the same time??

I think that the whole making process would be way funnier than eating..but hey, how can you ever be bored with Jack? On the nice warm day, you go into kitchen and come up with this brillant idea - its ice cream time. You would definitely wear this silly aprons (you guys look so cute in them!). And even if you put nice music in the background, your laughs are way louder than it..the whole house fills with your happiness! Do I even have to say how much mess you made? The cooking turned into small food fight, the ingredients are anywhere but where they should be. No worries tho..after a long long process the ice creams turnet out great (you will not get poisoned, i promise)! Now you can enjoy your sweet meal AND your company!

,,You are so sweet doll..maybe instead of the ice-cream I should eat you?~” he chuckles and picks you up, giving you a gentle twirl in the air.

•┈••✦ 🖤 ✦••┈•

[ms-demeanor]

thank you for caring about the insects too, i know the cats and bird were the focus of your post but not enough people realize that bugs are incredibly important for the ecosystem and dying at an alarming rate. yes, even the bitey ones. mosquitos are a very important food source for lizards and small birds

And look, I dislike the mosquitoes on a personal level (I got so many bites this year because of all the rain we got early in the year) but you know what's also pretty good at keeping that in check? The hundreds of orb weavers in the yard! I am ambivalent about the mosquitoes but my beloved spiders!

Also he sprinkled the poison right in front of the butterfly bushes that he planted! You don't get to say "i want butterflies but not pests" when you're putting down poison! And it goes up the food chain! the bugs eat the poison and maybe before it kills them the birds eat the poison and maybe it kills them if they eat enough bugs! Same thing if you put out poison for rats and mice - if you do that you're killing the owls and hawks around your home!

So yes the main point of that post was to please and thank you keep your cats indoors but a secondary point is please and thank you don't use pesticide; bugs are VERY important and there are better ways of handling pests than poison (like my beloved spiders!)

[pocket-jack]

"Supernova trio stranded on the wild island"

Law: Alright. We need to find water source first. Then build a camp nearby, but not too close to avoid the mosquito attack. Then we should check surroundings for food. Our best course of actions is to look for bird nests and eat the eggs in them. Do not eat any berry, they might be poisonous, and under any circumstances DO NOT eat the meat without thermic processing first. Am I being clea-...

Kid and Luffy who's sit on top of freshly killed bear and eating its meat while fully covered in blood: Huh? Why can't we eat raw meat??

Law: ARE FUCKING SHITTIN ME RIGHT NOW-

________________

I hc that Kid and Luffy have pretty similar childhood.

Kid was a feral child, but instead of having home to sleep or people to care about him, he had nothing, but himself. He also considers Killer his brother or just something like a brother. Perhaps he didn't even knew what the brother/sister/father/mother was, so he just figured that Killer is something that Kid don't want kill.

Killer wasn't a feral child from his birth like Kid was, but instead was left alone on the island by his parents. He knew a lot and was hanging out with Kid to not feel lonely and in danger all the time. Of course, wild life got him twisted too, but he's still pretty intelligent.

They grow protective of each other, hanging out, playing and fighting with the others.

I headcanon that their home was more of the trash island than the solid ground. There was enough of garbage to freely stand on it, but you could sometimes sink deep inside the trashy deep seas.

Killer just noticed that Kid loved doing stuff with the garbage, so he scavenged some engineering book and gifted to Kid. He went "The fuck's a book?", "It's a tones of paper glued together with words, that contains information. This one contains information about engineering", " The fuck's words???". They had to go... Through a lot of explanations Killer's childish brain could come up with. But Kid liked the gift when he understood what he was reading. He actually build a toy robot and was so happy about it. He decided to give it to Killer as a thank you present.

Then they met Victoria who became "a girl they don't want to kill so she can hang with them", and yes, Killer thought of them like siblings.

They kicked some asses, made friendships and alliances, had adventures and made promises to become pirates together.

And then Victoria dies. But unlike Sabo she dies for real. And Kid is devastated. Firstly, because he never thought that someone's death could make him feel so bad (and there were a lot of people and animals dying in here), and secondly, because he loved her dearly. And Killer as the most level-headed person in here (also really devastated, but had to remain calm, because Kid needed him) just stayed there trying to snap him out of it, but the only thing that Kid heard was a fainted "Kid!.. Kid?.. Kid. Don't look at her. Look at me. Look. At. Me. Calm down. I'm here. Please, just calm down. Please". When Kid finally looked at him he just saw how fucking scared and panicked and dirty and wet and bloody his friend was, and it just snapped him out of it.

Kid just brought together the other gang's and defeated the biggest and most dangerous gang in the whole island. I like to believe that after that he couldn't even look at Killer's face again, because the only thing he saw was his face that night. Killer was devastated and hurting much more. He was much intelligent and smart and clearly understood some things better than Kid did, and that's why Kid thought that something that Killer was going through was much worse than he had it. And Kid swore to become much stronger to never see that expression on Killer's face again. And Killer just understood that Kid would never look at his face as usual again, so he just covered it with mask, to make it easier for Kid to look him in the eyes, even if it was just holes.

I like to think that Kid, just like Law, sees Victoria in Luffy: the energetic, stubborn and freedom loving. At first he showed some interest in him, but then just made some parallels, and only then grew much more angry at Luffy for the things none of them couldn't control.

Ouch, that went too far into the angst from the funny silly feral boys doing funny silly feral stuff when their unferal and depressed boyfriend just being angry at them for breaking a lot of sanitary norms.

[sailorsenshishitposter]

Itadori Yuji x Reader

⚠️ Spoilers for chapter 257 and also a warning for cannibalism

Itadori Yuji

You enjoy fawning over babies, are a dog person or you have the attention span of a goldfish

First Date:

You were ecstatic. You never would have dreamed that your crush would agree to go out with you. Yuji insisted that the two of you meet up outside the theatre. Something about how he wanted to show you this romance movie? "I don't care as long as I'm with you itadori." You then heard what sounded like someone trying to vomit? "What was that?" Before Yuji could respond he slapped himself. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Just swatting an annoying mosquito. Anyway I'm gonna go grab some popcorn now..." You wondered why Itadori was acting so nervous. "Maybe he's just as excited about this date as I am?" You then made sure your mascara was on fleek and then made your way to the screening. "Great, you made it! It's just about to start!" You sat down while the previews began playing.

You couldn't help but notice how your date was shovelling fists full of popcorn down his throat, almost as if he was eating for two people. "Hungry?" you whispered. You then heard a voice saying "No more brat, this tastes awful!" It was probably just the movie since you two were the only ones in the room. Yuji then gave you a bashful look as he rubbed the back of his head. "I guess I've always had a larger appetite. My grandpa once mentioned something about my uncle eating his twin in the womb?" You were too stunned to speak.

The title of the movie showed up on screen. 'HUMAN EARTHWORM 4'. You cringed. How was this a romance movie? You were starting to fall asleep out of boredom when you heard a voice that was far too deep to belong to Itadori. "Pathetic. This is your attempt at courting a woman? Back in the Heian era I would-" There was a loud clap that was enough to fully wake you up. "What happened Itadori?"

Yuji was now sweating bullets. "Oh, You fell asleep? Is the movie not to your liking? We can always do something else if you want." Why did your date have to be so sweet? "No, it's fine. I suppose I'm just tired." The movie soon ended and the two of you decided to get something to eat. You then stopped at the local KFC. Yuji sat down while you went to order. You then returned to see him with a strange look on his face. "What's the matter?"

"I think I just saw my teacher? No wait, maybe it wasn't him? But then again who else has white hair in Tokyo? Anyway, I think this girl in blue robes dumped him or something? He just started crying. Look, he's still there!" You cast your gaze down the street. Itadori was right. There was a man sobbing on the ground while slamming his fist into the concrete. "SUGURU, WWWWHHHHHYYYYYYYY?????? PLEASE I NEED YOU!!"

You turned away. How embarrassing. You were just glad that he wasn't your date. "Hey, the foods getting cold. Let's eat!" The two of you then began to feed each other chicken tenders. You were so lovestruck that you failed to notice the burnt piece you had picked up. If anything it resembled a claw made out of hot dogs more than fried chicken. You put it to Yuji's lips and watched him swallow it whole.

Somethings wrong. Why was your date convulsing all of a sudden? "I swear if they gave you food poison!" You then noticed black markings appear on Itadori's skin. "What the hell-" You were then cut off before you could finish speaking. Literally. Next thing you knew, you were being cut apart into tiny meat cubes. Your date then took a slice of human meat, savoring the flavour. He then started tasting the blood on his fingers. "I guess that's why they call it finger licking good!"

[notstarcey]

She Magnus on my archives til I

I itch all the time. Deep beneath my skin, where the bone sits, enshrined in flesh, I feel it. Something, not moving but that wants to move. Wants to be free. It itches, and I don’t think I want it. I don’t know what to do.

You can’t help me. I don’t think so, at least. But whatever it is that calls to me, that wants me for its own, it hates you. It hates what you are and what you do. And if it hates you, then maybe you can help me. If I wanted to be helped. I don’t know if I do. You must understand, it sings so sweetly, and I need it, but I am afraid. It isn’t right and I need help. I need it to be seen. To be seen in the cold light of knowledge is anathema to the things that crawl and slither and swarm in the corners and the cracks. In the pitted holes of the hive.

You can’t see it, of course. It isn’t real. Not like you or I are real. It’s more of an everywhere. A feeling. Are you familiar with trypophobia? That disgusted fear at holes, irregular, honeycombed holes. Makes you feel that itch in the back of your mind, like the holes are there too, in your own brain, rotten and hollow and swarming. Is that real?

I’m sorry, I know I’m meant to be telling you what happened. What brought me to this place. This place of books and learning, of sight and beholding. I’m sorry. I should. I will.

I… I haven’t slept in some time. I can’t sleep. My dreams are crawling and many-legged. Not just slithering and burrowing,. though it is the burrowing that draws me. They always sing that song of flesh. I hope you will forgive me for such a rambling story. I hope you will forgive me for a great many things, as it may be I do worse. I have that feeling, that instinct that squirms through your belly. There will be great violence done here. And I bleed into that violence.

Do you know, I wonder? As I watch you sitting there through the glass. Eating a sandwich. Do you know where you are? You called me “dear”. “Have a seat, dear.” “You can write it down, dear.” “Take as much time as you need, dear.” Can you truly know the danger you are in?

There is a wasps’ nest in my attic. A fat, sprawling thing that crouches in the shadowed corner. It thrums with life and malice. I could sit there for hours, watching the swirls of pulp and paper on its surface. I have done. It is not the patterns that enthral me, I’m not one of those fools chasing fractals; no, it’s what sings behind them. Sings that I am beautiful. Sings that I am a home. That I can be fully consumed by what loves me.

I don’t know how long the nest has been there. It’s not even my house, I just live there. Some sweaty old man thinks he owns it, taking money for my presence as though it will save him. I used to worry about it, you know. I remember, before the dreams, I would spend so long worrying about that money. About how I could afford to live there. Now I know that whatever the old man thinks, as he passes about the house with brow crinkled and mouth puckered in disapproval, it is not his. It has a thousand truer owners who shift and live and sing within the very walls of the building. He does not even know about the wasps’ nest. I wonder how long he has not known. How many years it has been there.

Have you ever heard of the filarial worm? Mosquitoes gift it with their kiss and it grows and grows. It stops water moving round the human body right, makes limbs and bellies swell and sag with fluid. Now, when I look at that fat, sweaty sack, I think about it, and the voice sings of showing him what a real parasite can do.

How many months has it been like this? Was there a time before? There must have been. I remember a life that was not itching, not fear, not nectar-sweet song. I had a job. I sold crystals. They were clean, and sharp and bright and they did not sing to me, though I sometimes said they did. We would sell the stones to smiling young couples with colour in their hair. I remember, before I found the nest, someone new came. His name was Oliver, and he would look at me so strangely. Not with lust or affection or contempt, but with sadness. Such a deep sadness. And once with fear. It didn’t matter, because no-one in the shop wanted to hear about the ants below it. I tried to tell them, to explain, but they did not care. The pretty young things complained and I left.

That was when I still called myself a witch. Wicca and paganism, I would spend my weekends at rituals by the Thames. I wanted something beyond myself, but could not stomach the priest or the imam or pujari of the churches. I knew better. I knew that it was not so simple as to call out to well-trodden gods. I never felt from my rituals anything except exhaustion and pride. I thought that those were my spiritual raptures.

I wish, deep inside, below the itch, that they were still my raptures. I have touched something now, though, that all my talk of ley lines and mother goddesses could never have prepared me for. It is not a god. Or if it is then it is a dead god, decayed and clammy corpse-flesh brimming with writhing graveworms.

When did I first hear it? It wasn’t the nest, I’m sure of that. I never went in the attic. It was locked and I didn’t have a key. I spent a day sawing through the padlock with an old hacksaw. My hands were blistered by the end. Why would I have done that if I didn’t know what I would find? The face of the one who sang to me dwelling within the hidden darkness above me. I had seen no wasps. I know I hadn’t. There are no wasps in the nest. So how else would I have known that I needed to be there, to be in the dark with it, if it had not already been singing to me?

No, that’s not right. The nest does not sing to me. It is simply the face. Not the whole face, for the whole of the hive is infinite. An unending plane of wriggling forms swarming in and out of the distended pores and honeycombed flesh. The nest is nothing but paper.

Was it the spiders? There were webs in the corners, around the entryway into the attic. I would watch them scurry and disappear in between the wooden boards. ‘Where are you going, little spiders?’ I would think. ‘What are you seeing in the dark? Is it food? Prey? Predators?’ I wondered if it was the spiders that made the gentle buzzing song. It was not. Webs have a song as well, of course, but it is not the song of the hive.

I used to pick at my skin. It was a compulsion. I would spend hours in the bathroom, staring as close as I could get to my face to the mirrors, searching for darkened pores to squeeze and watch the congealed oil worm its way out of my skin. Often I would end with swollen red marks where it had become inflamed with irritation or infection. Did I hear the song then?

Was it when I was a child, such a clear memory of a classmate telling me a blackhead was a hole in my face, and if I didn’t keep it clean it would grow and rot. Did I hear it then, as that image lodged in my mind forever? Or was it last year, passing by a strip of green they call a park near my house, after the rain, and watching a hundred worms crawl and squirm to the surface.

Perhaps I’ve always heard it. Perhaps the itch has always been the real me, and it was the happy, smiling Jane who called herself a witch and drank wine in the park when it was sunny. Maybe it was her who was the maddened illusion that hides the sick squirming reality of what I am. Of what we all are, when you strip away the pretence that there is more to a person than a warm, wet habitat for the billion crawling things that need a home. That love us in their way.

I need to think. To clear my head. To try and remember, but remember what? I was lonely before. I know that. I had friends, at least I used to, but I lost them. Or they lost me. Why was it? I remember shouting, recriminations, and I was abandoned. No idea why. The memories are a blur. I do remember that they called me “toxic”. I don’t think I really knew what that meant, except that it was the reason I was so very painfully lonely. Was that it? Was I swayed and drawn simply by the prospect of being genuinely loved? Not loved as you would understand it. A deeper, more primal love. A need as much as a feeling. Love that consumes you in all ways.

You can’t help me. I’m sure of that now. I have tried to write it down, to put it into terms and words you could understand. And now I stare at it and not a word of it is even enough to fully describe the fact that I itch. Because ‘itch’ is not the right word. There is no right word because for all your Institute and ignorance may laud the power of the word, it cannot even stretch to fully capture what I feel in my bones. What possible recourse could there be for me in your books and files and libraries except more useless ink and dying letters? I see now why the hive hates you. You can see it and log it and note it’s every detail but you can never understand it. You rob it of its fear even though your weak words have no right to do so.

I do not know why the hive chose me, but it did. And I think that it always had. The song is loud and beautiful and I am so very afraid. There is a wasps’ nest in my attic. Perhaps it can soothe my itching soul.

[3-2-whump]

Caretaker 2 Intro: The Flicker of a Spark

<prev next>

Thank you @whumped-by-glitter for beta-reading this monstrosity!

TW/CW: blood, briefly mentioned scars, not sure what else, tbh

Author's Note: I know like a high school level of Spanish, I studied abroad in a Spanish-speaking country for one semester in college, and I spent more than two hours researching what cholo Spanish sounds like. That being said, if I got anything wrong, please tell me, and be kind about it. I am only human, but I would very much like to know one way or the other <3

Set five days after this

Nico, dude, pls respond.

Read 01:10 am

Khaled shook his head with a frustrated huff. Here he was, walking the streets several blocks away from his master’s apartment well after dark, texting his best (only) friend on the clandestine cellphone he had gotten for him, and that bastard left him on read. He lobbed a discarded can across the sidewalk with a well-placed kick.

 He had never realized how used to his friend’s welcoming smile and wholesome presence he’d become, until he’d had to go without. It had been five days. Five days of eating alone. Five days of trying to meet his eyes when they drove out at the end of the day, but to no avail. Nico could barely look at him, and the few times he did, it was with such palpable guilt.

But there was no reason to feel guilty. Even if he did feel betrayed by how easily his supposed friend fell in line, Khaled knew Nico didn’t have much of a choice. Besides, he has every right to choose his own future over a relationship with me. I would’ve done the same, he justified.

I’m not worth the trouble.

He was so lost in his mind as he mulled over the day’s events, that it took an unfamiliar presence bumping into his shoulder to bring him back to the present. A large man with a goatee bore his tobacco-stained teeth at him. “Hey, you, watch yourself!”

He ignored the stranger who bumped into him as he brushed past him and kept walking.

“What, you’re just going to ignore me, now? Who do you think you are?!” the man shouted.

A shorter, thin-eyed man walking alongside him joined in the provocation. “You heard him, vato,” he sneered, pockmarked face scrunched in a scowl. “You gonna come back here and apologize, or are we gonna have to make you?”

And, honestly, Khaled probably could’ve ignored the heckling and went on with his night in peace, until one of their tattooed hands gripped his shoulder and pulled him back towards them.

Within seconds, the larger man howled in pain as he recoiled his broken fingers from Khaled’s personal space. The other guy cursed something in a language Khaled did not understand, then turned toward him, fury blazing in his eyes. “¡Pendejo! So, that’s how it’s gonna be?!” With no other warning, he rushed toward him with a roar, his hands curled into fists. Were it not for the many escape attempts that devolved into fistfights, Khaled probably wouldn’t have stood much of a chance against his opponent. However, all that experience running away from and fighting off the mafia’s cronies had finally paid off. He deftly evaded the man’s haphazard punches, weaving in and out like a stubborn mosquito until he was finally able to land a jab up his opponent’s ribcage. Just as the second man crumpled gasping to the ground, the first one got up again, charging with his good hand raised. Khaled dodged that fist, too, quickly catching it and wrenching the man’s arm painfully behind his back. A well-placed elbow into his stomach knocked the breath from him. It could’ve been worse –he’d dealt with much harder hits before –but it was enough to make him loosen his grip. His opponent wrestled back control of his arm and punched Khaled square in the jaw, his teeth rattling discordantly in his mouth. He tasted the metallic tang of blood. He collected himself just enough to block the second hit in time, though the force of it felt as if it would break his forearm. A kick to the back of his knees brought him down to the concrete with a harsh thud, and soon the second man was dragging him up, arms pinned helplessly behind his back. “You shouldn’t have fucked with us, you-”

“Vatos, vatos, cálmate, todos.”

A clear voice rose from the fight scene. The man pinning Khaled dropped him instantly, letting him fall onto the pavement as he reverently addressed the source of the voice. “Julio,” he greeted, instantly backing away. Khaled glanced to the other man, who was also opening space between them as he tucked his broken fingers into his side. In front of them, along with half a dozen other men, stood one tall, thin young man in the center carrying himself with the confident presence of an apex predator, a leader –or a Boss, Khaled’s thoughts supplied. His dark hair was shorn close to his scalp, save for a choppy bleached mohawk running down the center. A glimmer of a piercing shone in the right cheekbone of his olive-skinned face, matching the barbell in his left eyebrow and rivaling the dangerous glint in his knife-sharp eyes. He wore an oversized army green parka over his upper body, well-loved and well-worn, if the custom patches and frayed seams were any indication. His long thin legs were clothed in dark track pants, tapering to spotless Chuck Taylors on his feet. Those feet walked calmly towards the three, stopping a mere pace and a half from them. “What’s going on here, primo?” he asked the first man, the one who provoked the fight. “It’s not like you to go two on one on some poor fucker like that.”

“I know, I know, but I didn’t think it would be so hard to beat some sense into him,” the man complained. “That little twig really made me and Luis work for it!”

Julio glanced skeptically at Khaled, who had just recollected himself from the ground. “What, him?” The corners of the Boss’ mouth turned up in a deriding smirk. “Are you getting so rusty, Alphonso, that you can’t even handle one skinny little twink?”

“Why don’t you try fighting this ‘skinny little twink’ yourself, you fucking beanpole?” Khaled’s mouth replied before his common sense could catch up. The smirk on Julio’s face dropped only a moment, until it was replaced with a wider, shit-eating grin. The golden hazel of his eyes reminded him of a cat’s eyes in the way they glowed with the pleasure of finding a mouse to toy with before they eat.

“Alright, he speaks!” He reached a tattooed hand from the depths of his parka to help Khaled stand up on his feet. His knuckles read ‘FUCK.’ Khaled didn’t have to guess what his other hand said. “You wanna go, pendejo, let’s go!” Julio laughed. He stepped back to his entourage to shed his coat, revealing long, sinewy tattooed limbs sticking out from a large t-shirt, its sleeves cut off and band logo long since faded. The gang formed a circle around them, giving Khaled and Julio plenty of space to have their fight while making any chance of escape impossible.

“Look.” Khaled raised his hands palms-out, his momentary bravado quickly forgotten, “I just want to go home, okay?”

“And you will, if you win,” Julio said, stretching his long limbs methodically as his catlike eyes sized up his prey. “But you wandered into our territory, and you pissed off my cousin. You gotta answer to that, you know, and if I win, I will make sure you do.” He dropped into a crouching stance, muscles tense as a bowstring, practically twitching with anticipation. “Now, let’s fight!”

Cheers erupted over the impromptu crowd as the two circled around each other, looking for the right place and moment to strike. Julio’s fist arched up like a whistling arrow and bore down toward Khaled’s face. He blocked it, wincing a little at the impact on his already bruised forearm. For being as skinny as he is, this guy sure has some force behind those hits, he thought. He successfully blocked a couple more punches –though barely-, and gradually Julio drove him from the sidewalk to the middle of the road, the crowd parting for the fighters and cheering all the while.

After another successful block, Khaled found an opportunity to land a kick to his opponent’s ribs. He swung his leg toward the man’s ribs. Just before his foot could meet Julio’s side, the tattooed hand whose knuckles spelled ‘YOU!’ caught it in a death grip. Khaled paled. “Nuh uh,” Julio tutted. He yanked up, unbalancing Khaled and sending him crashing to the hard asphalt. The fall knocked the breath out of him for only a moment as he fell onto his back. With enough presence of mind to remember he was still fighting, he swept his other foot at Julio’s ankles and brought him tumbling down to the trash-littered street too.

The crowd’s cheers grew frenzied as their Boss and the trespasser tackled, rolled, and straddled each other across the broken glass and loose rubble on the ground. Khaled wrested his fingers into Julio’s mohawk to hold him still as he hit him. Julio sunk his fingers into the top portion of Khaled’s undercut and slammed his head into the asphalt. Golden eyes like knives gleamed with the promise of a painful end as the man on top of him snarled like a beast. All too soon, Julio ended up mounted on top of Khaled, sitting on his chest, one hand on his throat, the other hand raised and primed.

Is this it?

The wildcat could finally eat his kill.

Is this how it ends?

In place of fear, or sorrow, or even the base need of every creature to get up and fight in the face of a threat to their survival, Khaled surprisingly felt nothing but peace as he stared into those aureate irises.

Why am I so okay with this?

“Go ahead,” Khaled spat between bloodied lips. He no longer pressed against the hand holding his throat. He lay his head back beside the ashes of long-extinguished cigarettes. “You win.”

Those knife sharp eyes met his, and for a second, they softened. Golden hazel melted into deep brown. The wildcat sheathed his claws.

It was only a second later that Julio was helping Khaled off the asphalt, brushing the dirt and broken glass from both their clothes all the while. The keen sharpness of his eyes returned, as if the momentary lapse in the Boss’ composure had never happened. “Hey, you got pretty close, man.” He collected his coat back from his posse and fished around the pockets, eventually pulling out a box of cigarettes and a lighter. He wordlessly offered Khaled one, but he politely refused. “Been awhile since I threw some serious chingasos,” he said as he lit his cigarette. “Been even longer since someone was able to throw it back at me.” He leaned against a nearby lamp post as he huffed a plume of smoke into the night. “No way just some random guy could stand a chance against me. Who are you with, twink?”

“The name’s Khaled, beanpole,” Khaled bristled. “And I’m with the Costas.”

“Ha, the Costas? The Costas?” Julio took another drag of his cigarette. “Yeah, and I’m the fucking pope,” he snickered. His gang awkwardly laughed alongside him.

Khaled brought his bloodied fingers up to the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head and turning around to show his exposed back and shoulders. The laughing immediately ceased. The bluish-black ink of the skull and snake insignia was tattooed starkly on his skin, just above old, crisscrossing scars. “How in the fuck–you bear their mark, you really are a –but, how?” he sputtered. “They’re old-school mafia, there’s no way they’d just let you –you’re not even –how?!”

He slipped his shirt back on and turned to face his astounded former opponent. “It’s a long story that I don’t feel like telling,” he muttered.

“What about those scars-”

“-but I am unquestionably a Costa, and therefore I am under my Boss’ protection,” Khaled continued, interrupting Julio’s question. Speaking of ‘Boss,’ he’s gonna kill me he if he wakes up and finds out I snuck out this late, he belatedly realized. He awkwardly raised a hand and waved. “Now, I really must get back to my Boss. Goodnight.” He turned to leave.

He didn’t make it more than two steps before the rival Boss called out to him. “Wait, Khaled-”

All too suddenly, the moment of potential comradery was ruined by a car pulling up next to their semicircle. The gang protectively huddled around their leader as some of them immediately assumed defensive stances. The window to the familiar car rolled down.

“Khaled! Jesus, I was worried sick!” Thomas shouted, his voice nasally and unusually low with congestion. The man paused his scolding when he took in Khaled’s new cuts and bruises he didn’t make. “What happened to your face?” He turned his head to glare at Julio, who was glaring back with equal amounts of animosity. “Estrada, did you do this?!”

“Boss, I’m fine, really,” Khaled said, leaving the tightly knit group of guys and making his way to his master’s car. “I was going to get you some cough drops -you’re out, remember? It’s settled, I won… I think…” He made his way to the passenger side door and let himself in. “Let’s just go home so I can ice my face, okay?”

The man grumbled his dissent, but reluctantly pulled away, driving Khaled back to the apartment they shared.

“Those chop shop sons of bitches are bad news, boy,” Thomas warned. “They’ve got no honor! Stealing and scrapping whatever they can find, infringing on our territory, the territory my family fought for, just to –they kill for cash, you know!” They pulled into his usual spot in the underground garage as the rant sent the boss into a coughing fit. “Shameless,” he sighed. “I don’t want you anywhere near them, understood?”

Khaled wisely said nothing.

Thomas glanced at Khaled’s lap, frowning when he didn’t see a convenience store bag in his hands. “Did you even get a chance to buy those cough drops?”

Rather than being caught in his lie, Khaled decided to go for a half-truth. “No, master.”

Thomas huffed, which triggered another cough. “You know, you are so lucky I am sick right now,” he groused on the way from the parking garage to the elevator. “I barely had the energy to drag my ass down here to get the car and rescue you. And I definitely don’t have the energy to beat some sense into you!”

As Khaled later stripped himself to prepare for a shower, he paused as he noticed a small business card in his pants pocket. How in the hell –what? His mind replayed any and every possible moment Julio or someone else could’ve slipped something into his pocket without him noticing.

He carefully lifted it out as he shucked his pants off his legs and threw them into the hamper. It was the business card to an auto repair shop, with ten numbers underneath.

“Wait, Khaled-” The way Julio said his name replayed in a loop in his head as he stared at the ten-digit phone number with his secret phone in hand.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee

@generic-whumperz @bamber344

[holeinthehedgerow]

The Bats of Senegal

Every morning, I wake up and sweep the bat shit- or guano to be more technical- out of my hut. This process has become something of an art form for me, an art form that I have perfected. I know where the bats like to hang out (I mean hang out in a very literal bat like sense), such as off the nail I hang my hat, or along the string I hang my dirty laundry on, or at the base of a world map I have strung up against a wall. I visit these bat rest stops daily, and I sweep the little piles of shit that have accumulated overnight into the center of my hut. At times, when I’ve been away for a few days, I arrive home to find the little piles as little mountains, which will then require a deeper more thorough sweeping.

            The wind here, in this corner of the world, flows assiduously from east to west. I’ve never seen it flow any other way. The wind blows across the Sahara Desert, across the Sahel, out into the ocean, sometimes it carries massive walls of sand and dust with it, and I’ve been told the dust particles will ultimately pick up water droplets out on the ocean and dump them in the form of a hurricane season along the eastern coast of my home, North America. This makes me homesick each morning as I sweep, from my hut’s eastern door to the one on the west wall, following the channel of the ever-present breeze that keeps me cool at night. I use the air flow like a wizard to help drift the dust and bat shit out of my little hut. I like to think this dust I sweep along the mud floor and out my west door gets picked up by the wind and finds its way to my home thousands of miles away in the form of a cold autumn rain.

            In Jaxanke, the language I speak in this village, the word for west is Tiloolaata, “where the sun sleeps”.

            I have a peaceful relationship with the bats in my hut. Even just one bat sighted in the home of a typical American would likely leave them terrorized until it is found and exterminated. But for me here, where I am constantly surrounded by the ethereal little demons, I’ve grown used to their presence. Despite their constant proximity, I don’t think I’ve ever actually touched one. However, I often feel their presence, in the form of a slight breeze from their tiny wings brushing the hairs on my skin as they fly around my body. The bats are like water, or maybe more like air, wrapping themselves around things with such unimaginable flawless dexterity, they never seem to touch anything. They move like shadows. I’ve been told they can catch and eat a thousand mosquitoes an hour. I like to imagine what the sound of the buzzing mosquitos’ wings, that sound which irritates me every night, must sound like to the delicate ears of a bat, how it must guide the little demons right to them. The fact that the irritating ringing buzz in my ears may well be the mosquitoes undoing brings me solace. Each morning, I sweep up thousands of mosquitoes in the form of guano and ship it off with the western wind, where it follows the sun back home.

            I’ve learned to never go to the bathroom during dawn or dusk. This is when the bats commute in and out of my toilet hole in which they live.

            At night I bathe myself, with water from a bucket I carried earlier that day atop my head a hundred feet from a well, an uncapped well that I drew the water out of with a rusted squealing pulley. As I bathe myself with the water left out to be warmed by the Sahelian sun all day, dumping it over my head, the bats swirl and dance around me, plucking mosquitoes out of the air, guarding me from their bloodthirst, and fanning me dry with tiny wings.

            The northern wall of my hut is painted black, and there is a grid drawn in with chalk, rows and columns and squares with big Xs crossing them out, counting down days until future days. I have lived here for seven-hundred and thirty days, twenty-four months, two years. I avoid counting the days. I have a fear that the days I will miss the most are the ones I disrespected with a big chalk X. The days I waited to have ended. I try to stay present while I am in my village, but thoughts of the future ambush me constantly. Thoughts of cheese, hot showers, clean bed sheets, and sitting on cushions. Thoughts of protein, hygiene, good sleep, and comfort.

            I know I will miss village life. I will miss living in a place without time. Where the only time is the position of the sun. It awakens in the morning in the east and goes to sleep in the evenings in the west. The only calendar here is the faces of the moon. In Jaxanke, the word for month is Carro, which literally means “moon”.

            I fear that this chapter of my life, my Peace Corps experience, when all of it is said and done and I return home, that the things I miss the most won’t be the extravagant grand moments of my time here, but rather the simple and mundane. Such as the cracking of peanut shells with my host sisters in the shade of the peanut shelling machine, a machine we simply never use because then we’d have nothing to do. What I’m going to miss are the moments which so easily pass by me unnoticed unless I am actively there. I fear the days I miss the most will be the days on the calendar I count off until the next time I get to eat a cheeseburger. What I will miss are the moments that fleetingly get passed by time; unnoticed and at times not even remembered, but simply seen as features of a chapter in my life. Features like being fanned dry by bat wings, carrying water atop my head, or watching the sun go to sleep on the horizon.

[ao3writers-pls-love-me]

solangelo headcanons because talking is overrated

nico would be very into thriller and detective stuffs while will would be obsessed with stranger things and charlie's angels

the more nico spends time with will the more in sync and alike he is

*saw a cat* *both simultaneously raise hands and pull out cat treats*

will: "for real?!" nico: "for real?"

*taunting a monster* "your mama’s so hairy that when she went to see the new Star Wars movi-" "YEAH- and everyone thought Chewbacca was making a promotional appearance HA!"

"gods i wanna stuff a whole dragon in my stomach..." "..." "...and i want to eat this skrunkly little ham sandwich right here."

*nico looks at will* *will notices it and raises his eyebrows* *nico winks with both eyes* *will wiggles his fingers* *nico bites his tongue* *will makes witchy laughter* *nico sniffs his nose* "get a room." "stfu connor stoll."

small talks with nico and will feel awkward af, they prefer meaningful long conversations

silent is very important to them, to other campers it seems like they having beef but to nico and will that's true comfort

"hypothetically, what if i turned into a cat?" "then you would be the luckiest cat in the world." "oh-" "i would set this mortal realm on fire for you." "oh."

"remember when-" and they started sobbing violently

they would try to think abt how to compliment other demigods like clovis is such a attentive listener he slept through like half of my feelings or drew may seem a bit of an a-hole but she actually gave great skin care tips or lou turned an apple into a rat once and said 'that's similar to chocolate frogs in harry potter, try them out will!' and she was so funny i almost ate them fr

then they looked at percy and went nah that dude could devour a kiwi pizza and get poisoned instead

they often gave each other heart eyes

and nico would immediately get smack in the head by a camper because they were dueling

will would panic and then potato-shack nico to the infirmary right after

will claimed that nico really liked to sleep outside and thought it's romantic

minus the mosquito

they couldn't though because of harpies

but will would still help clearing out nico's cabin so that both of them could lay on the floor with much more opened space

nico felt like an idiot going along with it but lowkey appreciated having will there making dumb contented kekeke giggles because he thought nico like it

nico: you think i'm pretty?

will: w-what?

nico: do you think i'm pretty?

will: yeah..? i-i mean idk i guess you are? uh–sorry i mean yes–i mean very uh very pretty just um yeah so so–pretty like wow haha the most prettiest creature ever like woah

will: ...

will: i am so sorry

nico: no no don't be. that's really nice of you

will: ...

nico: thank you it's cute

will: ...gods are we like this right now?

nico: we're actually achieving relationship goals what can you have possibly meant?

will: well–alright i mean but are we doing it really–

nico: you're pretty too you know

will: w-woah wait

nico: you look so adorable right now i could cook you to medium rare

will: that's–

nico: you're so gorgeous i could slap your dad in the face because he created such a fine piece of work

will: o-oh

nico: you are absolutely beautiful oh my gods like i would happily snap the stolls legs just so you could be a little more self-aware of it will

will: nico i–you–goodness...

nico: ...

nico: dam you're right we are not having this at all. let's go outside and fight harpies and accidentally kiss and blame it on the adrenaline rush

will: chokes cutely

[elentarial]

Midsummer

Maedhros & Maglor Week Day 1-Treelight (Formenos)

The food stall in Tirion that Kanafinwë loves so much is days away from Formenos. He whines endlessly and drives his brother mad; they are alone in the fortress for a little longer as Nerdanel wrangles their younger brothers. For those three days, Nelyo is smug and deliberately cooks and eats meat wrapped in soft, doughy flatbreads right in front of Káno.

"Do you have to?" He whines.

They're sitting in the garden, poking at the small stone fire pit Turko built with Ambarussa two summers past. Early summer has cooled, but the night is muggy. Káno can smell the rain even through the smoke.

"I truly don’t know what you’re talking about," Nelyo grumbles, although the sly glint in his eyes suggests that he knows very well that he's grating on his brother’s nerves.

Formenos sprawls in the north of Valinor on a hill above a community of the same name. Fëanáro has brought his family to the fortress every summer since he wed Nerdanel, and although various cousins and occasionally grandfather Finwe join them, the summer sojourn is routine. His two eldest sons are nearly grown, and Kanafinwë is beginning to find the excursion dull. He does not want to be a child again but rather an adult with the freedom to do as he pleases, such as drunkenly snacking on flatbreads from a market stall at midnight after a performance. He does not expect Nelyo -dutiful to a fault- to understand. 

An iron fork goes unused between them, meant for roasting sausages or puffy, sweet confections that they eat between cinnamon crackers. Tonight, however, it's just them and the fire.

"Fiend," Káno laments, draping an arm dramatically over his face. “I am ever destined to suffer for my art.” Nelyo does not bother to hide his snicker. “I am certain you’ll survive.” 

Telperion’s glow is a sliver behind them; the fire softens the angles of Káno’s face into a replica of his childish former self. Something silly could be said--out loud or by action--about the fire between them, but that can wait until later. "And if you don’t, I suppose I won’t have to share a room with anyone."

Tomorrow morning holds, a trip to the farmer's market within the town of Formenos. They'll head down the cobbled path with coins in their pockets and the hand cart on wheels that starts empty but ends up brimming with their haul for the day. The list Nerdanel made for them, written in scrawl on the back of one of her sketches, has the word tomatoes underlined three times. Curufin eats them like apples and will shriek if there are none when he arrives. A fruitful garden is still weeks off. 

Mosquitos are starting to appear as Laurelin gives way to Telperion. They'll need to put out the fire soon to avoid being eaten. The last thing Nelyo needs is Káno scratching at himself in his sleep, knocking his elbow into Nelyo’s ribs.

Leaning back in his chair, getting comfortable, Káno turns towards his older brother.

Nelyo can make the same flatbreads out of leaner meat with less salt and more flavor. He’s done more cooking for their veritable army of brothers than either of their parents burned himself and the food more than a few times, but in the end, he figured it out and then taught the rest of them.

At first, Kano’s eyes linger on Nelyo’s tongue, peeking out just slightly from behind his teeth. A few seconds later, those same eyes lock with Nelyo’s.

The fire snaps.

"Nelyo?"

"Yes?"

"Shut the fuck up."