#anyway i appreciate this rude vegetable

[blood-orange-juice]

Looking at the datamined Childe conversation.

Chilumi ship has been taken out and shot. This guy has been in Fontaine this whole time and didn't even bother to leave a note with Katherine. Rude.

The Traveler is his favorite NPC but still a NPC.

I liked the conversation overall. Our boy adopting a bunch of kids again and poking Arle for intel (I like how he's both straightforward about it and willing to doubt Pulcinella. it's all very him).

Would really like to hear the voice acting there though. Is it his usual polite curiosity ("we are all here anyway so might as well learn something") or is he taunting Arle there.

And with how Arle said "how are you going to distract me without Childe here" at a later point I wonder if his monologuing about siblings was in fact an attempt to distract/stall her too.

(I can't understand if he's reactive or intentional in that conversation)

Generally I'm happy with the patch itself but unhappy with the direction Hoyo are taking with the guy. The conflict of loyalties is still very much there but no signs of corruption arc. They seem to be setting him up for something purely heroic.

(I'd rather if he becomes heroic after he finishes his vegetables glitches through a corruption arc)

I want my uncanny boy/ruthless Harbinger/Abyssal horror back but I guess my headcanon of him is a separate character at this point. His characterisation has shifted from "a genuinely unpleasant guy with strict morals and an unexplainable air of innocence" to "precious cinnamon roll with a few unsettling traits and some questionable choices that were not his fault".

On the topic of Childe and trusting people: can we appreciate him just drinking a bunch of random potions some HoH kid whose name he barely remembers made for him.

(he was already sick, considered her boss insane and had no way to check if the kid is competent. still drank those. mad lad)

Also an extremely dry patch in terms of lore. Not even a hint at what Arle is, just "go read Perinheri" (she's a descendant of Khaenri'ahn royalty, sure, but what exactly does that imply). Seraph references seem to be just for aesthetics. I'm glad I didn't do an Arle lore bingo.

Some Natlan and Remuria crumbs though.

[ticklishfiend]

Off-Button (My Hero Academia)

Pairing : Lee!Kaminari Ler!Bakugou

A/N : oh my god who new scumbag could actually post again, it's a marvel. no but fr, i've been lurking around the tickle tags forever and reading all of yall's amazing fics and i couldn't help getting back into it, even for just one fic. this isn't tickletober, i do not have the patience for that (u guys having the willpower to make something new every single day is fucking astounding to me idk how u do it lol), but i hope u guys enjoy it anyways! as always, please like and reblog if u can bc i really appreciate the support :D enjoy!! <3

Summary : Denki is incapable of being quiet during Bakugou and Kirishima's movie night they invited him to. Bakugou can't stand it, and decides to take matters into his own hands.

Word Count : 3359 

REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!! LOVE U GUYS! <333

. . .

What the absolute fuck was Spiky Hair thinking when he invited that energy filled blabber mouth to their movie night. 

Denki hadn’t shut up since he got into the damn room, his mouth seemingly going for an exercise run when the movie started and he got to make his own commentary. Katsuki was hoping for a nice, relaxing time with his boyfriend, watch a horror movie or two so Eijirou would snuggle close for comfort, and just all around actually enjoy his evening. 

But goddamnit if Denki wasn’t just the right man for disturbing the peace.

“Holy shit, did you see that?! That head went FLYING! It looks like someone throwing a football to a field goal! Wait, is it a field goal? Kiri, what’s the difference between a touchdown and a field goal? I’m not much of a football man, more of a baseball kinda guy. Although, I’d never turn down tickets to the Superbowl if I ever got the chance. You know they have these huge performances in the middle of the game where famous singers take over the field and just go ham?! I’d go just for that! But not if-”

Katsuki was going to become the next serial killer in a blockbuster horror movie if Denki didn’t shut his fucking mouth soon.

He glared at Eijirou, who was grinning from ear to fucking ear. Oh he did this shit on purpose. He hangs out with Sparky way more than Katsuki does, able to withstand his constant rambling in a way the short-tempered teen has never been able to understand. 

It’s not that Katuski dislikes Denki, though he would never ever fucking admit that out loud. He actually finds him funny sometimes, especially when paired with Sero. The two would probably make a good stand-up duo if Denki wasn’t the type to steal the microphone away just to ramble about every stupid thought that popped into his mind. 

But overall, Katuski does enjoy his company…most of the time.

“-I mean I don’t hate vegetables, but I’m not gonna pick them if I have the choice, y’know? Like if I have the choice between a beautiful bowl of pre-packaged ramen and a fucking green bean, I’m going with the ramen every single time, no question. Oh, but fruit though? That’s a whole different story-”

“Holy shit do you have a FUCKING off button?!” Katsuki shouted to Denki’s spot on the floor, feeling Eijirou give his shoulder a tight squeeze in return. Katsuki whipped his head around to find a disapproving gaze that really pissed him off. “What?! This is supposed to be a movie night, but I haven’t been able to hear the damn thing for it’s entire fucking duration! He’s ruining it!”

“You don’t have to be rude,” Eijirou whispered with a frown. Denki had fallen unusually quiet, and though they couldn’t see his face from their spots up on the couch, they knew what that meant. Katsuki knew what that meant, and damn Eijirou for giving him the ability to feel empathy for others.

Katsuki sighed through a groan, pushing himself off the couch and onto the floor next to Denki. Both were quiet, just sitting next to each other and watching the movie together in an uncomfortable silence.

“I’m sorry for ruining your movie night,” Denki mumbled into his arms which were now propped crossed on his knees. Katsuki pinched his lips together, gaze refusing to avert from the screen.

“You didn’t ruin shit, idiot,” he said, his tone much softer than before. “ Our fault for thinking you could actually be quiet for an hour and a half.”

“Katsuki,” Eijirou threatened from the couch, his inflection enough to make Katsuki realize his mistake in words.

“It was a joke, relax,” Katsuki grumbled like a teen to a scolding parent. Finally looking over at Denki, he started to feel his guilt bubbling to a boil. He cringed hard when he realized what needed to be said, feeling the words practically squirming in his chest with utter discomfort. “I’m…sorry. Okay? I’m sorry,” Katsuki rubbed his face anxiously, basically covering his mouth like it would make his words unheard. “I just like watching shit in silence, alright? Nothing personal, you moron, just…agree to disagree, I guess.”

Denki sat there for a moment. He was letting Katsuki’s apology settle in his system like swallowing a pill he’d never taken before. Bakugou…apologized to him. Actually said the word sorry, and TWICE at that. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips.

Denki launched himself at Katsuki, throwing his arms around him tightly before Katsuki had the chance to realize he was fucking hugging him. Katsuki quickly shoved him off like he had a disease, but that smile never left Denki’s face.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Sparky! This changes nothing!”

“You like me!” Denki beamed, repeatedly poking at Katsuki’s arm like it would make him realize it himself. “You said sorry, you apologized to me! Kirishima, we’ve gotta throw a party or something, bake me a cake--shit, bake Bakugou a cake! This is a real turn of events, my friends, a real turning point in our friendship if I do say so myself,” Denki sighed happily, criss-crossing his legs and facing Katsuki with a wide smile. “You like me.”

Katsuki growled at the notion. He couldn’t even deny it, the bastard was right. But he didn’t have to be so damn smug about it. 

Then, like his guardian angel was sending him telepathic messages on how to fucking destory this loser, he remembered something. Something very interesting.

Last week, Sero and Denki had been roughhousing on the floor of the common rooms over something Katsuki couldn’t care less to find out about. All he knew was that Denki had been the annoying little shit he always is, and Sero was finally retaliating against it and winning. He had Denki in some weird wrestler hold, his arms held firm behind his back as he kicked and struggled and refused to apologize for whatever annoyance he had caused.

Then, there was a screech. A loud one, followed by bouts of hysterical laughter and far more thrashing than before. Sero was tickling at his ribs with his free hand, fingers never relenting from the one spot he had a firm ticklish grip on. Denki pleaded and begged, and eventually with enough persuasion, Denki apologized. 

Denki is ticklish, and apparently ridiculously so. This could be helpful. This could be vital.

“I suggest you shut your mouth right now before I find that fucking off button myself,” Katsuki threatened, his eyes peering through his brow in the way a predator would before striking its prey.

“Oh c’moooon, you wouldn’t hurt your best friend, would you?” Denki creened through a grin before giggling with his tongue stuck between his teeth. Such a little shit, he was really milking this for all it’s worth.

“Not gonna hurt you, fucknuts. But I am gonna make you regret everything you just fucking said,” Katsuki growled before shoving Denki onto his back, the electric blonde letting out a confused yelp as he went down flailing. Katsuki kept his hand pressed firmly on Denki’s chest, pinning him to the floor with ease as he clambered on top. 

“Woah, we turning this duo into a trio or what, KitKat?” Kirishima chided in, having been scrolling on his phone for the past minute before realizing the action that was happening right before his eyes.

“Can it, idiot. I’ve got business to attend to here,” Katsuki growled before turning back to Denki with an evil grin. “You ticklish, Sparkplug?”

Denki’s eyes went wide before immediately throwing his arms around himself to protect his torso. “Nope.”

“Ohoho really? You seem awfully nervous for someone who ain’t ticklish,” Katsuki wiggled his fingers in the air menacingly, like a predator about to strike. “And if I recall correctly, Sero had you pretty fuckin’ beat the other day after you tried your luck annoying the shit outta him too.”

Denki’s lips pressed together tightly, the corners wobbling in a vain attempt to keep from giggling already. He shook his head vehemently. “No idea what you’re talking about,” his words came out quick, curling his lips under his teeth as soon as his talking ceased.

“Oh yeah? Well how ‘bout I jog your memory a bit; get that pea-brain of yours back up to speed, huh?” Katsuki slowly moved his wiggling fingers down towards Denki’s sides, the electric blonde unable to keep his giggles in any longer as they flowed out of him through puffs of air through his nose and a bouncing chest filled with butterflies. He swatted slapping hands at Katsuki's quickly, trying to both fight back while also protecting himself at the same time. His elbows stayed glued to his ribs while his hands uselessly bat at the weapons of mass destruction easing towards his torso.

“No, nonono nohoho wahahait,” he giggled nervously, having yet to even be tickled but unable to keep it at bay any longer. 

“Nah, it’s too late for that shit,” Katsuki growled before finally striking, fingers pinching strategically at the boy’s sides right below his ribs. Denki screeched, back arching and legs kicking out behind his tormenter as he reached down to grip Katsuki’s wrists and try to push them away, but it was futile. Giggles poured from him with ease, interlaced with squeals when Katsuki’s fingers came just a bit too close to his ribs for comfort.

“Ahahaha! Wahahait, c’mohohon! Dohohon’t!” Denki shook his head, trying to find any relief from that torturously funny sensation Katsuki delivered to him through gentle pinches and scribbles.

That was another thing throwing Denki completely for a loop; Bakugou was being so gentle. He expected rough digging, hard squeezes that would leave him gasping for air and swirling punches. But instead he got agonizingly tame, insanely ticklish pinches that had him already nearly pleading for mercy. 

“Don’t? Please, you asked for this as soon as you tried fucking with me. I was even being nice to you before, idiot. But noooo, you just had to keep poking the damn bear, didn’t you?” Katsuki emphasized his metaphor by sporadically poking all over Denki’s torso, at his belly, then his sides, up to his ribs, and even his chest, which Denki didn’t know could feel as ticklish as it did.

Denki giggled hysterically, squirming like a worm with his arms pulled close, basically giving up the fight and letting Katsuki do as he pleases. He knew he wouldn’t win if he tried, so he might as well let it happen until Bakugou tires himself out with it.

That is, until, Katsuki’s thumbs found their way into the hollows of Denki’s armpits. Denki squealed loudly, his heels digging hard into the carpet with every kick as his head turned to try and smush his red face into the floor beside him. 

“Oh, sweet spot, huh?” Katsuki grinned, thumbs practically glued to that little spot under Denki’s arms that kept the boy cackling and squirming like crazy. “You seeing this, Kiri? Think he’s gonna keep messing with me after this?”

Eijirou chuckled, phone now beside him on the couch as he enjoyed the show before him. “Oh definitely. Guy’s a glutton for punishment.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see about that after I’m done with him.”

Denki blushed deeply, turning his head towards Kiri and opening a single eye as best he could with his face all scrunched in laughter. “Kirihihieehehe! Pleheheease! Hehehelp me!” he gasped for air through giggles, talking through his hysteria quite the difficult task. “Mahahake him stohohop!” 

“Oh no, absolutely not. You got what’s coming to you, gigglebox, and I’m not interfering with him when he’s like this,” Eijirou couldn’t help but laugh along, the boy’s laughter too contagious to help it.

“You could always help me, y'know? Cause you already know what I’ll do to you if you don’t, gigglebox,” Katsuki sent Eijirou a wicked smile, fingers still tickling the boy under him relentlessly. Eijirou blushed, before getting up from the couch with a sigh.

“Sorry, Denks, nothing personal,” he apologized with a giggle, obviously not sorry in the slightest. He sat down above Denki’s head, giving his hair a little tussle.

“Nohoho! You dohohon’t hahahave to do thihis!” Denki’s squirming increased before letting in a big gasp of air as Katsuki’s assault finally relented, though his arms stayed glued tightly to his sides. “C’mohon, man, we’re friehehends!” 

“Yeah, yeah, we’re friends, man. And no, I don’t have to do this,” Kiri grinned before grabbing Denki’s wrists, trying to pull them up above his head. Denki tried hard to keep them down, unable to keep the giggles to himself in pure anticipation, repeating “nonononohoho!” as he felt Kiri winning the fight for his hands. They came to a standstill when his hands were near his face, Denki pulling hard to keep them down.  “But I kinda want to, y’know?” Kiri giggled, giving Katsuki a look. “A little help, love?”

“No problem,” Katsuki smiled before bringing his fingers up to flutter softly at Denki’s neck and ears. Denki squealed, high-pitched giggles escaping as he struggled to keep his strength, too focused now on trying to protect his neck with his shoulders. This allowed Kiri to finally pull his arms up above his head and pin them there by the wrists, Denki whining loudly and kicking his legs out in protest.

“Plehehease! I’m sorry, okahay, don’t tickle mehehee!” He pleaded, bringing his knees up to drum against Katsuki’s back.

“Don’t care, didn’t ask,” Katsuki said before bringing his fingers down to flutter softly against Denki’s armpits through his shirt, the boy squealing and screaming out a “no!” in response before falling helplessly into giggles and cackles. “Plus, this is kinda fun.”

His fingers fluttered and spidered for a while, relishing in Denki’s frantic laughter. Katsuki got bored of the flutters after a while, switching to pinching up and down Denki’s ribcage with gentle precision. 

“Nohohoho! I cahahahan’t, mahahan, plehehease! It tihihickles!” Denki shoved his face into his now raised arm, trying to muffle his giggles and hide his flushed face.

“Damn right it tickles, I’m tickling you,” Katsuki looked at Eijirou with a mocking shake of the head and a sigh. “This fuckin’ guy, amirite?”

“His face is so red, man. I think he’s embarrassed ~,” Kiri cooed down towards Denki’s face, giggling at the squeal his words brought.

“I’m nohohot! I’m nohohohot!” Denki shook his head into his arm, squirming even harder and screaming as one of Katsuki’s hands came up to flutter at the open side of his neck, the other still preoccupied at his ribs.

“He’s tryna deny it, Kiri,” Katsuki tsked before bringing his face closer to Denki’s. “You know what we do to liars around here?”

“Nohoho!” Denki cried, not sure if he was replying to Katsuki’s teasing question or just yelling out his preferred word to cry out in ticklish agony.

“Weeeeee…” Katsuki paused both his sentence and his tickling, his hands standing still in the spots they were last playing with. Denki continued to giggle through his panting breath, body tense in anticipation and eyes squeezed shut tight. Seconds passed and still, nothing. Curiosity killed the cat, but Denki couldn’t help opening one of his eyes hesitantly and looking up at Katsuki’s wicked grin. 

Then, he screamed when Katsuki’s hands shot down quickly to squeeze at his hips, falling yet again into helpless cackles. “...tikitikitikitikitickle them!”

“Ahahahaha gohohohod! Thahat’s sohoho- pppffttt hahahaha! -stuhuhupihihid!” Denki shook his head in protest, kicking and bucking his hips like he could knock off his tickler with one good throw. Obviously it didn’t work, and Katsuki continued to tickle him while staying put like he was riding a bull.

“Oh, you callin’ me stupid now? Do you really think that’s the smartest move to make when I’ve got you squealing like a little girl for saying some stupid shit earlier?’”

“I juhuhust said- gahahahaha nohoho! -thahat you lihihike mehehee!” 

“Yeah and how did that turn out for you?” Katsuki asked before scribbling his hands over Denki’s waist, the boy screeching and giggling frantically in response.

“Bahahahad! Sohoho bahahahd!”

“That’s what I thought,” Katsuki grinned before going back to poking around Denki’s belly, a much easier task now that Denki’s flailing arms were out of the equation. “How’s about we find that little off button we discussed earlier, huh? Maybe we can finally get you to shut your trap for once.”

Eijirou giggled with a shake of his head. “You are so mean, Katsuki.”

“Yeah, yeah, you love it,” Katsuki looked at Denki’s face, grinning at the blush he wore and the giant smile overtaking his features and making his nose scrunch up all cutely. “And from the looks of it, so does this little guy. You enjoyin’ yourself up there, dumbass?”

Denki’s belly bounced through his giggles, much softer than before now that he was just being poked at, but still frantic as his belly was very ticklish. “Nohoho!”

“I think that’s the word of the day. ‘No, no, no,’ it’s all you’ve said since we started this shit. You mean that? You want us to stop? Cause hey, say the word and playtime’s over, Sparkplug.”

For the first time since their little tickle fest started, Denki had nothing to say. Just a response of happy giggles and an even brighter blush that he yet again tried hiding in his arm.

“Well would you look at that! Seems like our friend here has some sense after all,” Katsuki smiled up at Eijirou, who rolled his eyes fondly. The redhead already knew Denki didn’t mind the tickles as much as he loved to claim he did, so he wasn’t surprised in the least to find him happily allowing them to continue the torment. 

Katsuki’s pokes never ceased, like they were still on the hunt. “So, about that off button…” He hummed curiously, his pokes traveling all around his belly, sides, and ribs like in a search. “Oh, I know. How about riiiiiight…here!” He stuck his finger in Denki’s bellybutton, scratching and poking at it gently but very obviously efficiently, as the blonde under him let out a loud squeal before his laughs fell silent. Just a bouncing chest and belly with occasional gasps for air to prove he was still laughing up a storm on the inside.

“Hehey, I think you found it! See, he’s gone all quiet now!” Eijirou boasted, looking down at Denki’s hysterical expression with a chuckle.

“Well ain’t that a relief,” Katsuki said, eyebrows shooting up when Denki’s cackles and shrieks returned in a wild new wave. “Guess we know how to shut him up now. Just a little tickle right in this off-button and we’ve got a nice night of peace and quiet,” he said with a hint of sarcasm, as Denki’s laughter had never been louder than now.

Finally, Katsuki’s assault ceased, giving Eijirou a nod to let his arms go. Denki brought them down over his belly protectively, rolling over on his side to curl into a ball of giggles when Katsuki got off and sat next to him.

“So, you still think I like you, numbnuts?” Katsuki asked, grinning proudly as his boyfriend rubbed Denki’s back.

“Ehehe…yeah, kinda,” Denki looked at Katsuki over his shoulder. “I mean, you did just have a tickle fight with me, man. Not really something non-friends do with each other.”

“Hey, not a tickle fight. I didn’t see you getting any jabs in there, did I?” Katsuki said with a poke to Denki’s side, the boy flinching with a yelp before scooting closer to Eijirou like he’d protect him from mean ‘ole Bakugou.

“Fine, a tickle attack then. Either way…” Denki tilted his head with a smug expression, a smile still very present on his face. “...you totally like me.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes before getting up and plopping himself back on the couch, grabbing his phone to scroll like nothing happened. “Whatever, idiot. Just know who you’re messing with.”

Denki giggled, looking up at Kirishima who shook his head with a fond smile. “Trust me, I am very well aware.”

There was a comfortable silence between the three of them before they all seemed to realize at the same time, it wasn’t actually silent in the room.

The movie was still on.

“Oh fucking hell you’ve gotta be KIDDING ME-“

. . .

A/N : hope y'all enjoyed! im working on another fic rn but don't plan on that coming out super soon, y'all know how long it takes me to write sometimes and i've kinda been drowning in schoolwork lately. college is truly a different experience LMAO. anyways, much love y'all imma go do some homework and hopefully get some sleep tonight.

[castillon02]

Fried Pie at the Flying J

Angela put her phone down and looked alive behind the counter. The suits who had just come in were different than her usual run of weathered old Texans, although they had the familiar road-stunned look of long driving in the past and long driving ahead, same as most people who came into the Flying J. People liked to stop here in this place so deep on the highway. The gas was reasonable and the food was good. If you had time to stop and eat, the attached Denny’s had the cleanest bathrooms for fifty miles, but she figured that wasn’t what these guys were after.

Sunglasses Suit---he hadn’t bothered to take off his designer shades when he came in---made a beeline for the door that wasn’t to the Denny’s, and he put his hand on the other suit’s arm when the man made to follow him. “Hang on. You won’t want to go in there.”

“Hmm? Why?” Ooh, a British accent!

Sunglasses Suit jerked his head at the sign on the door: The Original Fried Pie Shop.

“Oh.” British Suit made a face. Rude. Don’t knock ’em till you try ’em, bud. Especially if you’re from England. Even Angela had seen enough TV to know about bangers and mash. (Her opinion? Needs more barbecue sauce.)

“They’re basically empanadas,” Sunglasses Suit said, sounding defensive. 

“I dare you to tell Camille that,” British Suit replied, arching his eyebrows. The hint of playfulness lightened his old boot of a face, made him look suddenly handsome.

“No deal,” Sunglasses said, maybe ruefully. “Anyway, Mama liked them, so---” He swallowed. The past tense hung heavy in the air. Poor fella. He had a black shirt on beneath his black suit jacket, and now that looked more like funeral-wear than Johnny-Cash-wannabe.

British Suit briefly put his hand on Sunglasses’s shoulder.

Sunglasses cleared his throat. “Anyway, just stay out here and find something that will suit your picky palate.” He went in to buy some pies---which, yeah, were basically empanadas, but with fruit in them. Or meat. Or cheese and pizza sauce. The Original Fried Pie Shop didn’t discriminate when it came to fillings.

British Suit perused the aisles---something military in his walk, hard to peg what. He ignored the candy and the Hostess stuff, stopped in front of the nuts and jerky, and stared with what might have been horror at the hot food station.

Angela pursed her lips. Sure, their jumbo breakfast burritos weren’t exactly gourmet, but she had made them fresh only two hours ago! And there was always the breakfast croissant if the guy missed Europe so bad. Jeez, wait until he got a load of what they had at the Exxon. “Can I help you, sir?” she asked with her most professional cheerfulness.

British Suit turned and approached her. “Angela,” he said, his eyes glancing off her name tag, “I’m afraid I don’t know what a ‘tater tot’ is and why it should be in a burrito.”

Angela eyed him. Bless his heart. Was he serious? “Fried grated potatoes. They add crunch,” she said, and added with sweet vengeance, “Would you like a free sample?” She wanted to see his judgy British face when he found out they were good. 

Sunglasses Suit chose that moment to exit with his bag of pies. “Come on, Bond,” he said. “I got you beef and vegetable. Don’t pretend you don’t eat beef pies in the motherland.”

British Suit, Bond, smirked at her. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get that sample,” he said, flashing his eyes up and down at her.

Jesus Christ. Had he somehow turned a tater tot into an innuendo? And was she really thinking that it was a shame she’d missed out?

Bond turned away from her. “Got what you needed, Felix?”

Sunglasses Suit, Felix, nodded. “Yeah. It’ll be good to---you know, the family will appreciate it,” he said. “Anyway---come on. Burnin’ daylight,” he added, his accent heavier than it had been. More familiar than it had been.

A small-town boy, Angela realized, who’d grown up and left for the big wide world like so many kids around here did. Had his mama driven him to DFW to send him off to college, and they’d stopped for pies on the way? How often had he come home after that, in between traveling the world and making friends with British folk? 

Well, Felix was here now, and he’d remembered the pie. There was probably a good son under that suit, buried deep, in the same place he kept the accent. She worked in a gas station in the middle of nowhere---she saw every day that some things buried deep were worth coming back to, even if it was an effort to get there.

Less of an effort when you had company, at least. She was glad this Felix had someone with him---even if it was that weird Bond guy.

[roalinda]

A small something for #prongsfoot wednesday. My HCs in this are: 1. James is not fond of animals minus padfoot but that doesn't count. 2. He has one hell of a sweet tooth.

🌷 Home sweet Home 🌷

"No." 

James' voice was hard and serious or so he hoped. He'd never been good at saying no and it didn't make it any better that what he currently was refusing was a gift from his friends who were visiting his new flat for the first time. Well, their new flat and friends with Sirius into account.  

"I do remember knowing a frustrating toerag but I don't remember knowing a rude one who rejects housewarming gifts. What's wrong with you, Potter?" Lily frowned, blunt and cutting as always, like a mother scolding her toddler for not eating his vegetable porridge.

"Rude toerag…wait what…" James choked on his coffee and clumsily put his mug away before any real damage was done. He was in no mood to scrub the coffee off the parquet if the mug fell, Merlin forbid. There was enough disaster to face already. 

Remus bit the inside of his cheek to refrain himself from laughing out loud. Poor James was looking miserable, there was no need to fuel the fire by laughing at him. Sadly, it seemed that Lily didn't agree because she continued her heated glare which in all honesty could burn one alive if it was concrete.

"If it helps, the treacle tart we brought is specially for you." Remus smiled pleasantly, pushing a small package towards James.

James smiled back, just as pleasantly or so he tried. "Thank you. It is very much appreciated." He loved treacle tart.

"But the answer to that…" He glared at a small basket, adorned with a fancy pink ribbon on the table. "...is still no."

"Potter, don't be selfish. You get the treacle tart and Black gets this." 

"I'm not selfish! Why are you on Sirius' side anyway?! You always hated him, didn't you?" Pouted James petulantly and crossed his arms. "There are enough of these at my parents' manor. I'm not letting another in my private sacred space." 

"It's not only your private sacred space, James. It's Sirius' as well." Remus pointed out and James glared daggers at him. Lily pursed her lips and was about to add something sarcastic when the floo roared and Sirius stepped into the living room, surprised but genuinely happy to see the guests. 

"Hi flower. Hi moony." He greeted in good humour. "Visiting our humble new home?" He offered a lopsided grin before crossing the room with long strides.

"Hey love." He gave James a peck, then raised his eyebrows at him who had his arms crossed moodily. "Are you ok?"

James sighed before pulling Sirius close once again by his collar to kiss him, this time longer and sweeter. "That depends." 

"On?" Sirius cupped his cheek softly and James sighed contentedly. 

Remus coughed and Lily rolled her eyes. "Gods you two are nauseatingly in love and its sickeningly sweet." 

"Don't talk like we are your St. Mungo's patients, Healer Evans." James glared at her and Sirius laughed. "So, what has gotten you so riled up,Jamie?" 

"That." 

He pointed at the basket and before he could rant on about it, a soft mew was heard and a small head peeked out, big teal eyes looking around curiously, ears twitching at the foreign sounds.

"Is…is that a kitten?" Sirius' eyes lightened up, letting James go instantly and rushing to the adorable creature. At that moment James knew he had lost the game and worse, from now on he had to fight for Sirius' attention which was already stolen by that admittedly cute thing. 

"Do you like her? You like animals, don't you?" Lily smiled sweetly as the kitten struggled her way out of the basket and jumped on Sirius' lap. 

"Look at her. She knows her dad already." Lily's sweet smile turned devilish as she winked at James who just rolled his eyes. 

Sirius cooed the kitten, stroking her with gentle hands, nuzzling into her furr softly. 

"Can we keep her Jamie?" He turned to James, offering his best puppy eyes, ready to burst in crocodile tears if the situation called for it and James was instantly sold. 

"Of course, sweetheart. Whatever that makes you happy." He replied, making Sirius' face to light up with a cheshire cat grin of victory while Lily and Remus couldn't help but to be amused by the way that James was absolutely smitten.

James Potter was not good at saying no to people but when it came to Sirius Black, he couldn't say no at all.

[lucysweatslove]

Yesterday was a kinda rough day.

I had to go into school early. My college mentor group has 6 instead of 5, because our class has an extra person in it (this is bc an e22 had to repeat first year- repeating years is normal/not weird in med school btw, there is so much that happens in life and I really appreciate this person’s perspective and life experiences, and repeating is NOT a judgment on their intelligence or ability to become a good doc… I think their personal life just got really intense tbh). I hate “professional” dress because of how I look and feel in those kinds of clothes, strike 1.

Anyway, after that I had to be in class because we had our anti-weight bias content, which devolved a little. I would say most people want to be inclusive and avoid stigma and understand that even IF fatness was always “unhealthy,” treating individual patients with that bias leads to worse health outcomes. But some people just cannot see past the idea that some fat/adipose tissue is metabolically active and that can lead to increased inflammation.

Registered dietician who literally teaches a graduate level 16 week course in fat bias: “The research suggests that bringing up patient’s weight as a problem to address leads to worse health outcomes in these people.”

Classmates: “but isn’t our job to tell them that being fat is bad?”

RD: “you’re assuming they don’t ‘know’ that weight is associated with health risk. They know.”

Classmate: “how can they know if we don’t tell them?” (Note: really sassy and rude tone)

Oh IDK, maybe we know because we are told over and over and over again by every person who is even marginally thinner than we are?? No, a fat person doesn’t need to know the “chronic inflammatory disease process” of “excess adiposity” to understand that fat may, in some situations, contribute to development of metabolic diseases. Trust me, we know. I knew before I was fat, long before I even started med school, and it was one part that fueled my ED.

And I ended up being very vulnerable because I was just too angry… and told the entire class that I had atypical anorexia for 12 years (to give context about my opinion). My opinion being: weight is NOT within a patient’s direct control. Gain or lose or even just being weight stable. There are too many factors outside of our control that contribute (like thyroid function, but that’s just one of them). “Eat less and move more” doesn’t always work for fat folk. I ate way less than you all and moved way more and was so sick I couldn’t even go to class, and yet I still wasn’t thin. People are not fat for lack of education. They are not fat for lack of trying. So don’t focus on the weight. Focus on what is directly in their control. How are you moving? How are you eating? Do you have safe spaces to move your body? Do you have access to vegetables? What limits you? Become solutions-focused for those things they CAN control and let them know that just engaging in what they can do is helpful.

Anyway I only dissociated a little bit.

Edited to add a tone detail.

[nulltune]

sirin vc hey hakuno i dont know what a digimon is but i found this eggplant one that's kind of cute and also says swears with me. i'm gonna keep him. you can pet him sometimes maybe.

unprompted, ‎ always accepting !! ‎ ‎ @remunporium ‎♡

that is a very long sentence...

❛ ‎ ‎hey, ‎sirin. ‎ digi is typically short for ‎‘ digital ’ ‎as in digicam, ‎ digisale, ‎digiscrap ... ‎so on and so forth. ‎ though i'm not sure what to make of mon in that context, ‎and how it would relate to an eggplant ... ‎i fail to see how a vegetable could be considered cute, ‎but, ‎he swears, ‎you say ? ‎ ‎a sentient vegetable that is somehow digital ... ‎ah, ‎as confusing and contradictory as it may sound, ‎ that does make some sense. ‎could it be a digital lifeform, ‎perhaps ? ‎ ‎like an artificial intelligence ? ‎ ‎ if that were the case, ‎sirin, ‎ please re - examine your words a little. ‎ it's a bit demeaning, ‎and it would be rude to treat your purple friend as though he were a pet. ‎ oh, ‎right, ‎is this individual a friend of yours now ? ‎ ‎i have no need to pet him, ‎ i do not find eggplants cute anyway, ‎but i would like to meet him, ‎if possible. ‎if you were to introduce us to each other, ‎that would be especially appreciated. ... but before that, ‎ that swearing part didn't slip past me so easily, ‎sirin. ‎ he swears with you, ‎hm. ‎ ‎i see. ‎ now, ‎between the two of you, ‎ who was it that started ? ‎ ‎❜

not a sentence. ‎but the way she spoke all of this in one breath is quite impressive ... !!

[timeyartsandstuff]

     Turns out I really have a weakness for cartoonishly cheesy over-the-top supervillains who got lost on their way to the comic book genre. So here, have a Scarlet Briar doodle because goddamn did this outrageously extra menace have a lot of missed potential.

[pippytmi]

Roommates au, enemies to lovers, “you confuse me.” Supercorp obvs

“You’re a fucking liar.”

This is—objectively speaking—not the worst greeting Kara has ever received from her roommate, and so she takes it in stride. “Uh, hello to you…too,” Kara says slowly, silently running through a list of everything she could have done wrong to warrant such strong words.

But Lena does not offer any explanation; in fact, when she spots Kara in the doorway, she sends her a nasty glare as if Kara has said something wrong. “Don’t pretend you’re a saint in this matter, Lex,” Lena hisses, and only then does Kara notice the cell phone in Lena’s hands. “If I have to go and clean up your mess again…”

So it’s one of those days. Kara wisely shuts the door quietly behind her, and sneaks into the kitchen as Lena takes her argument into her room.

There is a list of chores pinned to the fridge—four black X’s cross out Lena’s, and Kara’s are underlined twice. They have a code, so as to avoid speaking to each other; X’s mean done, underlined means Kara you're a slob and a pain in the ass to live with. (All verbatim, by the way.)

The dishes, however, are not on Kara’s agenda at the moment. She instead takes the expensive whiskey hidden under the sink (that belongs to Alex, not that she has noticed it’s missing), and pours it into a glass with some ice. Then she whips out the ingredients for a stir fry, complete with every vegetable she had been saving for the potluck at work this weekend.

It is an unspoken rule that Lena will shut herself off into her room after this phone call is over. She does that every time her brother calls (and on occasion her mother), and Kara has picked up enough information about her roommate to know Lena will appreciate a hard drink and some food. She hasn’t said so or anything, but every time Kara knocks three times on the door and leaves a plate outside, it will re-emerge an hour later completely empty.

Lena’s voice grows louder despite the distance, and Kara turns on the stereo out of respect for her roommate's privacy. Lena hates the stereo and all it stands for; she argues it is outdated, and they have numerous pieces of technology that are less bulky and fully able to connect to radio stations. But Kara keeps it around anyway, because she still likes buying CD’s (and maybe to bother Lena, which is a bonus).

Blink-182 is playing on that alternative station Alex likes. Kara cranks it up as she cooks, singing under her breath as she sautes bell peppers and onions, ignoring the rumble of her stomach and the tight belt of her work pants still digging into her hips. “Say it ain’t so, I will not go,” she practically yells, poking her head into the fridge for the tofu that Lena always keeps. Kara personally won’t touch the stuff, but Lena is trying to eat less meat. It cuts up easily enough, even though Kara isn’t sure what the proper technique is.

She leaves the finished plate and drink outside after it’s done, rapping on Lena’s door in tune with The White Stripes’ “Seven Nation Army,” and then finally has some dinner herself. Since the tofu is unappetizing, Kara stores the rest of the stir fry in a container for Lena to take for lunch, and opts for a sandwich. She eats while scrolling through her notifications (she owes Nia twenty bucks, and so far Nia has been clogging up her phone with Venmo requests all well over $500), and keeps the radio on just for background noise.

That’s probably why she doesn’t even notice when Lena approaches; Kara has barely begun to type a text to Nia swearing to bring some cash next time she visits when a sharp voice declares,

“You confuse me.”

Which. Is not at all what Kara expected from her usually empty kitchen. And, caught exceptionally off guard, she nearly falls off her chair. “What the—Lena,” she sputters, righting herself. Unfortunately, the crust of her sandwich is a casualty of the surprise, and she watches as it crumples devastatingly on the floor.

Lena is not half as concerned about the fate of her dinner, and she stalks forward to jab a finger at Kara’s chest. “You confuse me,” she repeats.

Kara blinks. Then blinks again. “Um, okay,” she says. “…why?”

A strange, strangled noise rises from Lena’s mouth, and she appears angrier than Kara has ever seen. (Well, except for that one time that Kara did laundry and flooded the apartment laundromat, which had other pissed off tenants leaving mean messages for two weeks straight). “Because,” angrier-than-usual Lena says, “you do shit like cook food for me and don’t even say anything.”

“What do you want me to say?” Kara frowns, not sure where this conversation is going. “If you want I can start saying ‘Hey Lena, I made dinner’ every time.”

“You and I don’t do dinner,” Lena says, and it sounds like an accusation. “Every time I get off the phone, you decide to leave food outside my door. Why? What on Earth compels you to do that?”

“Because you’re always upset afterwards,” Kara says slowly. “And I thought you could use some cheering up, or at least a drink.”

“Whiskey,” Lena notes. “It’s always whiskey. And it’s never a cheap brand.”

“Well, yeah,” Kara says, gesturing pointedly to Lena’s designer work clothes (that she never seems to be without; Kara’s not sure Lena even owns pajamas). “You would probably accuse me of poisoning you if I gave you anything less.”

Lena narrows her eyes. “You don’t owe me anything,” she says. “So whatever this is, you can stop it.”

“What do you mean, ‘whatever this is’?” Kara repeats incredulously. “I’m just being nice!”

“I never asked you to be ‘nice’!”

Kara exhales, and reminds herself that it is illegal to strangle people. Especially since she is Lena’s roommate, and will therefore be suspect #1. Kara has never been a violent person, but her roommate just manages to test her limits.

“Look,” Kara says patiently, “I give you my sister’s whiskey, and she doesn’t care because she is trying to give up drinking. And I’m not a frequent cook or anything, but I can still throw together a plate because I know you don’t cook at all. That’s it! I don’t have a hidden agenda, or some secret plot here. I’m just being friendly.”

“We are not friends, Kara Danvers,” Lena says. “And I know exactly what this is, even if you refuse to acknowledge it.”

God, what an insufferable—“Okay, know-it-all,” Kara says, instead of the ruder words echoing through her head. “What am I doing?”

Lena’s jaw clenches noticeably. “You pity me,” she accuses. “You look down at my relationship with my family, and—and I don’t want your sympathy, or your stupid food, anymore.”

“If you wanted me to back off, that’s fine,” Kara says, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “But I don’t pity you, or feel sorry for you. Heck, with your track record, I’d feel more sympathy for your family. They seem to be on the other end of some nasty phone calls.”

Lena’s expression darkens. “You don’t know my family.”

“I don’t know you very well, either,” Kara retorts, and she turns back to her phone where three new Venmo requests are waiting (two of them well in the thousands range; Nia must think she’s hilarious). “Message received, okay? I’ll leave you alone.”

At first, Kara assumes that's the end of it—assumes that Lena is going to stalk off, and leave a strongly worded post-it on the fridge later that night for Kara to wake up to. That has always been how their relationship works; they fight, reiterate how much they hate living together, and go right back to ignoring each other.

But Lena doesn't walk away. Instead she sighs, and at that unexpected sound Kara looks up just in time to catch Lena frowning. “I—” Lena begins, and then she pauses uncomfortably before getting the words out. “I'm...sorry. I have been having the worst day, and it’s—it’s rude of me to take it out on you.”

“Okay,” says Kara dumbly, because she’s not sure what to respond. Lena never apologizes. Ever. It’s about as rare as, well, Kara actually doing her chores on time. “Thanks?”

Lena bites her lip, glances away. “You’re welcome,” she says stiffly. And this time she leaves—leaves, and abandons the plate of food Kara left her on the edge of the table.

Kara looks down at her phone. There are ten texts waiting from Nia, and about double that of Venmo requests. But she can’t shake the feeling that she is forgetting something, and it’s more than a twenty dollar bill. “Wait,” she blurts out, “Lena. What—what does that mean? You were an asshole to me, and I was an asshole right back, so why are you apologizing?”

“Well, you are more than welcome to apologize too,” Lena says, pausing in the kitchen doorway. She has a quizzical expression on her face, a kind of raw confusion that Kara has never seen before. Without the sharp clenched jaw and the angry eyes, she’s…just a girl. A girl, with a nervous tic of wringing her fingers together. A girl, despite her guarded nature, who is gazing right back at Kara as if she has no right to.

“Do you want me to apologize to you?”

A beat. “Not really,” Lena says. “I don’t—want that. You’re right, you don’t know me. Or my family. We’re nothing to each other, and I can’t expect you to know how complicated my relationship with them is.”

“Still,” Kara says, and she scratches the back of her neck absentmindedly at the sudden flush of guilt that overtakes her. “I am sorry. It was rude of me to, um, say that. Like if your family is a bunch of serial killers, who am I to say you’re worse than that?”

Lena scrunches her nose in a manner that is sort of cute. “Serial killers? Really?”

Kara shrugs—aiming for casual—and really that just looks like attempting nonchalance when suddenly she’s consumed with thoughts about how pretty her roommate is. “Like you said,” she says, “I don’t know your family.”

And, surprisingly, all Lena does is smile. A real smile, the kind that Kara has never witnessed, barely soft and just kind enough. “They’re not,” she says, and unnecessarily clarifies, “serial killers.”

“That you know of,” Kara points out, and Lena’s cautious smile becomes something fuller. That is the only thing that gives Kara the courage to add, “So, now that we have covered the whole you’re not your family thing, are you really not going to have dinner? I cooked tofu for you and everything!”

“You didn’t have to,” Lena argues, because she is defensive to a fault. But she falters immediately after, and sighs again, albeit in a more mellowed tone. “What I meant to say is, I really don’t need you to keep cooking for me. I’m fine.”

“Well what if I want to cook for you?” Kara says, and that is her own fault: she is ready to argue to protect her (noble) intentions. “We don’t have to be friends, if it terrifies you that much—”

“It does not terrify me—”

“—but we can be friendly,” Kara offers, and it’s a testament to her newfound appreciation for her roommate that she manages to even make a sentence. “If you want.”

Lena tilts her head, considering, and this time when she smiles it is curious. “If you knew what I wanted, Kara Danvers,” she says, “your delicate sensibilities would blush to their roots.” And with that odd goodbye, she eventually takes her leave; however, she does take the plate of stir fry with her, so Kara guesses that means they’re on their way to being friendly, if anything.

[reawritesthings]

domestic pleasures | wanda maximoff

summary: you were new to westview and you automatically caught wanda’s eye. overtime, you allowed wanda to take good care of you.

pairings: mommy!wanda x fem!reader

word count: 2.2K

warnings: 18+ MINORS DONT INTERACT. degrading, mommy kink, vaginal fingering, eating out someone. slightly overstimulation. slightly forced orgasm. wanda uses her power. dom!wanda. teasing. reader is in love with wanda's boobs. (if i have missed anything, please tell me) :)

authors note: IM BACK with another. the comments and the feedback for lemon tree was shocking. thank u everyone for reading it!! i wasn’t expecting that reaction. anyways, enjoy this :) feedback is appreciated

You never considered yourself lucky, especially in a new town that looked beautiful when the sunset toned the streets. You were a broke college student, desperately trying to make ends meet with groceries, bills and books. It was stressful to find some work in a town full of people who minded their business, except a family of four.

You hardly saw them until Wanda came knocking on your door, offering you meals that she made for her family. Wanda knew from the many nights she saw you from your window that you never ate a full course meal.

Her flower wasn’t nurturing the right way, and she hated it. Wanda didn’t like seeing her flower work too hard. But she did love the choice of outfits you wore.

An oversized shirt that always curves over your bum, giving Wanda a perfect view of your laced panties. She loved watching you, admiring you from afar. You were oblivious to her gestures, just like she wanted you to be.

When she saw you one night taking small bites of her lasagna, she swore that she heard a moan escape from your lips. It captivated her to continue to bring you food so she can listen to those pretty little moans of yours.

Over time, her motherly instincts switch on. She monitored your eating pattern, especially when you were in the middle of your finals. She watched you take scoops of cookie dough ice cream into your mouth and chugging energy drinks into your system.

You were hurting her flower, and she didn’t like it one bit. Wanda then decided she would take matters into her hand. When Wanda asked you out of the blue to come over to fix her printer, a ready-made meal was waiting for you.

It was a small fish dish with tons of vegetables. You weren't a fan of vegetables; half of them weren't your favourite either. You tried to pass the offer but, Wanda was very persuaded. She insisted you stay and eat with her, as a token of thanks for fixing her printer.

You didn’t want to be rude so, you sat with her, watching her cut up her potion. Wanda noticed that you hardly touched your greens, which made her angry. She didn’t show it, as she didn’t want to scare off her flower.

Wanda simply got up from her seat and accidentally brushed your shoulder, apologising straight after. She bent her body towards you, allowing you full access to her chest. You gulped in pleasure at how beautifully shaped her tits were.

“If you eat your greens, you can touch,” Wanda whispered, biting your earlobe. She watched as you gripped your thigh, smirking at how easy it was to persuade you to do something.

You sat there and, Wanda made sure you ate every vegetable on your plate. Each time you ate a vegetable, she kissed your neck, praising you for obeying.

“You can do it. We don’t want to see what happens when you don’t listen, sweetheart.” She mumbled against your skin, making you squirm in your seat.

Wanda slowly started to suck on your neck, feeding into you like you were her dinner. She heard a little whimper come from your lips and licked the mark she created.

“One more, sweetheart.” She praised, brushing her thumb against your cheek. She tangled her hands through your hair, pulling it slightly as she saw you fiddle with the last vegetable.

You quickly ate the last vegetable, looking up at Wanda for praise. She sent a sweet kiss to your lips, humming words that made you feel warm inside.

You instantly felt your body respond to her touches. She was seated next to you, and you felt lost. You didn’t know what came over yourself when Wanda pulled you onto her lap. You instantly snuggled into her, letting your face buried between her chest, as she brushed her fingers up and down your back.

You lightly kissed her breasts, smiling at how big and comfy they were. Wanda smirked and bounced them up, causing you to moan.

“Since you ate all your greens and study real hard today, you get to have some dessert. How does that sound?” Wanda whispered into your ear, seeing you nod almost immediately.

“You are so responsive to my orders, aren’t you?”

You nodded, feeling a blush appear.

“Such a good little flower.” She cooed, pulling you off her and pushing you down onto the floor. She opened her legs and watched your eyes widen at her movement. You saw that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“Be a good little girl and take your dessert. I’m going to make sure you taste every last drop, understood?”

“Yes, Wanda..”

Wanda tutted, “Mommy. You call me Mommy.”

“Yes, Mommy.” You whispered and slowly brought your face to her entrance. You placed your hands around her thigh, and in a straight line, you licked her core. Wanda had no time for you to tease her. She was horny enough from just seeing you obey her. She grabbed a handful of hair and forced your mouth to suck on her cunt. You moaned at the force, trying to suck on every inch of her folds.

Wanda knew you were new to this, as your technique were wonky. She arched her hips towards you, thrusting her cunt into your face making you have no access to breathe. You allowed your tongue to explore her, trying to graze every spot to please her.

Wanda moans found your ears and, you moaned against her core, sucking on it harshly like it was the last edible thing on earth. Again Wanda thrust into you, making you accidentally bite her core. Wanda moaned louder, and you continued to latch onto her bud. You knew she was getting close as her folds clenched around your tongue. She managed to pull on your hair once more and gave you no warning that she was close to an orgasm.

Wanda, in no time, thrust once more before flooding your mouth with her cum. You tried your hardest to suck on every sweetness she gave you. Your lips were attached to her core for a little longer before she moved you away, brushing her finger against your swollen lip.

“You gorgeous thing. Those plumped lips are so useful to me. You were so good, sweetheart. You made Mommy feel so good.” She whispered, pulling you up by your shirt.

“You did so well, darling.” She hummed, allowing you to rest your head in her chest. Wanda watched as you gave her light kisses to her chest, grinning at how easily it was for you to be a submissive.

Wanda slowly moved your face away for her, causing a little whimper to escape your lips. Wanda only grinned at her flower, loving how needy you were for her.

“Go get some rest, darling. Those essays won’t write themselves.”

You nodded and slowly got off her lap, “Yes, Mommy.”

Wanda bit her lip at your tone and watched you stumble your way out of her home. She took the glass of water from the table, taking small sips as she amusingly watched you tumble and walk into things.

“Goodbye, little one.”

—

That night you were sorely in the zone to complete one of your essays. A temptation inside you sprung to light after you left Wanda’s that afternoon. You could still taste her in your mouth, and you craved more.

You felt lost without her near. You never depend on someone like you did with Wanda. She was turning you into something that you read in novels, and you liked it.

A little too much.

It was quarter to midnight and, you just finished a second essay. You were tired from studying and decided to take a little nap before returning to your books. However, that nap didn't exactly happen when you found yourself cradled against Wanda's chest.

You awoke and found your face buried deep in Wanda’s boobs. Unaware of how that happened, Wanda pushed your face back into her chest. She knew that you needed her touch, and just like the submissive you were, you took full advantage of it.

“You overworked yourself, sweetheart.”

You hummed, looking straight up at her. You eagerly tried to kiss her lips but, Wanda pulled back and smacked your thigh. You jumped in confusion, putting your head down as you didn’t like it when Wanda was mean.

"You naughty girl. Are you that desperate for Mommy’s lips? You want Mommy to taste whatever you are feeling in your panties.”

You let out a loud moan as Wanda harshly pressed her finger against your soaking core.

“My sweetheart. You are soaking. Did Mommy make you wet, darling?”

You sheepishly nodded and tugged on her bra as Wanda slapped your throbbing core.

“M-Mommy,” You moaned against her breasts, finding a way for you to tug on her nipple. Wanda hummed and saw how close you were getting to her nipple and slapped your core again, but with more force.

“Not yet. You must let Mommy taste you first. Is that what you want?”

You nodded quickly.

“Desperate little thing. You are such a slut, darling. Look at you, trying to hump Mommy’s fingers. How badly do you want Mommy’s fingers?”

“So badly. Please. Please.” The sounds of your begging made Wanda pinch your core. You let out a moan and squirm at the pain.

Wanda slowly pulled your panties down, watching some of your juice trails down your thigh. Wanda’s fingers managed to clean the excess. Without any warning, she stuffed her fingers straight into your mouth.

“Suck.” She demanded and, you obeyed, moaning at the taste of your sweetness.

“You ready for Mommy’s fingers? How many does my flower get?”

“As much as Mommy likes.” You moaned, and Wanda let out a chuckle at how much of a good submissive you were.

Wanda took one last look at you before taking her fingers out of your mouth and slammed them straight into your hole, hearing you cry in pain.

“Taking them so well, darling. Do you know how many fingers are inside you?” Wanda asked, her eyes darken.

You shook your head, pleading with her to go faster.

“Let’s count, Sweetheart.” Wanda whispered, and used one finger to hit one of your spots.

“How many was that, gorgeous?”

“O-One..”

Wanda grinned and did the same again but with three fingers this time causing you to moan louder.

“F-Four?” You manage to say and Wanda shook her head.

“Would you like Four fingers inside you?” Wanda whispered into your ear, fucking your core hard.

You barely gave her a response. Wanda took that as a yes and added another finger inside you. You felt your hole stretch like never before as Wanda slammed her fingers inside you. The tears spilling in your eyes made you grip Wanda's hand.

Wanda smirked and removed your hand from hers. She laughed as she gripped your jaw, so she could see you fall apart.

"My sweet angel. You look so beautiful." Wanda whispered and gripped your jaw harder. You let your tears fall from your cheek as she thrust her fingers in and out of you. You felt your orgasm near as your folds tugged on her fingers.

Your eyes began to see stars as Wanda used some of her magic to add more harsh momentum. You had no idea of Wanda's being a witch and, Wanda loved your obliviousness.

You started to ride her fingers, feeling your high coming through. Wanda kissed your tears away, planting a small kiss on your nose before slapping your thigh to indicate that you could cum.

"Go on, darling."

You cried out in pleasure as you let yourself loose on her fingers, sobbing as Wanda helped you ride your high. Your walls still clenched around her fingers, as you didn't want her to pull out.

Wanda smirked, loving how you took her so well.

“You are so well behaved, Sweetheart... taking my four fingers very well. You are a good little slut, aren't you? So glad I found you."

You opened your mouth, and Wanda laughed at your loss for words.

"How about we run you a bath? Does my little flower need a bath?”

You nodded and hissed at the pain as Wanda took her fingers out of you. She kissed your lips and then your neck, praising you whilst she gently made her way down to your swollen core. She gently kissed your swollen bud and gave you a sweet lick before picking you up.

Out of embarrassment of crying, you buried your face in her neck and watched her carry you towards the bathroom. You still let some tears fall as you felt the pain. She gently placed you on the counter, brushing your hair out of your face as she pinches your thigh teasingly.

“My sweet darling. Look at you. You were so good with Mommy today. You are the most gorgeous thing when you are crying. Those little sobs were for me, and Mommy loved watching you fall apart.”

You felt your cheeks burn with shame as Wanda degraded you. You wiped your tears on your jumper as you heard the tap run. Wanda cooed you, peppering your face with kisses.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” She chuckled and helped you into the tub. You hissed at the pain when the warm water hit your core. Wanda slowly pushed you down, leaning over to wash you.

“No more crying, sweetheart,” Wanda whispered and gently began to bath you. You nodded and stayed put and allowed Wanda to care for you.

“Thanks, Mommy.”

Wanda smiled and placed a small kiss to your cheek. “Anytime, darling.”

[weirdmarioenemies]

Banjo-Kazooie Spotlight

Hello, all! Guest writer Bynine here with an article on my favorite game of all time! Despite the immense popularity of this beloved N64 classic, the enemies of Banjo-Kazooie are not something that often comes up in discussion. Well, I'm here to change that!! Or at least, write well too much about some choice picks from the bestiary. Let's go!

Topper

Topper is the first in a small collection of sentient, googly-eyed vegetables that live in Spiral Mountain, where heroes Banjo and Kazooie also reside. Get used to those googly eyes, by the way, because you'll be seeing them a lot. Anywho, I really like the name Topper. You know, like "carrot top"! Great names are another feature of this series.

Bawl

Speaking of which, here's Bawl. Bawl is a fun name! It's hard to say without a southern drawl - bawwwl. Besides that, I don't have much to say about this hopping onion, but I still appreciate you, Bawl.

Colliwobble

The finale of our vegetable trio, and I'll be honest, I've saved the best for last. Sorry, Topper and Bawl, but it's a flying cauliflower called Colliwobble! How can you not love that? It flaps around gently with its big leaves, sustaining flight in a physically improbable yet adorable manner. How come the real thing can't do that, huh? No amount of bourbon roasted, brown butter baked cauliflower can convince me that we didn't get the short end of the stick here.

Gruntlings

The henchmen of the villainous witch Gruntilda, these oafish ogres patrol the halls of her lair, running after Banjo in a stance I'm sure they think is very intimidating.

Or maybe they want a hug? C'mere, big fella.

The most striking thing about Gruntlings to me is their impeccable fashion sense. They come in a variety of colors, and each one has a rakishly charming cloak to match, emblazoned with a fetching skull emblem. Would you mind stretching your arms out, Mr. Black Gruntling?

Thank you. Did Gruntilda coordinate these outfits? I'd believe it - she has a great ensemble herself, replete with a gorgeous purple striped scarf. And this is the same lady who's decorated her entire lair with images of her own face, after all...

Shrapnel

These ornery armaments are in the tragic category of enemies whose only goal in life is to detonate directly next to you. It's fitting then that they're based on a naval mine, but they also (perhaps unintentionally?) resemble sea urchins! How fun!

Normally they look fairly docile, even cute with their little underbite, but when Banjo draws near they growl and do... this. You okay there, buddy?

They're also the only enemies that appear in every Banjo-Kazooie platformer game! Clearly Rare knew they had a winner on their hands. Look at their pretty colors in Banjo Tooie! Look, but don't touch, please. It won't end well for anybody.

Sir Slush

Anyone who's played Banjo-Kazooie will be familiar with these goons. Living snowmen are usually quite jolly, and Sir Slush is no exception, with his consistent and hearty laughter. However, instead of frolicking in the snow, all Sir Slush does is pelt our heroes with snowballs. Rude!

Similar to the platonic ideal of living snowman himself, Frosty the Snowman, the life force of Sir Slush seems to be concentrated in its hat. It's invulnerable to most forms of damage, but if Kazooie strikes its hat at high velocity, it will be blown into icy chunks. Is this a similar principle to the "aim-for-the-head" zombie-killing technique? Are snowmen not merely zombies, extra ice, hold the flesh? Human bodies are 70% water anyway! 

Slappa

Another classic bestiary staple, the living hand! Slappa are gargantuan mummified arm-hand combos that pop up without warning from the dusty sands of Gobi's Valley, the requisite desert level of Banjo-Kazooie. True to their name, their main method of attack is a slap, where they simply fall over, crushing anything in their path. The most confusing thing about Slappas is that they have the ability to speak - they laugh if they manage to land a hit, and groan in pain when defeated. How are you talking, Slappa? Do you have a mouth hidden under those bandages? Maybe a whole face?

Artist's interpretation

There also exists a single non-violent Slappa called Grabba, who clutches onto a Jiggy and hides underground with it if you get too close. Should you manage to grab it, they mention having had it for a thousand years, but then congratulate you on your technique. Of all the traits to be assigned to a mummified hand, "sportsmanlike" was not one I was expecting, but I'll gladly take it.

Tee-Hee

Another winner of a name! Tee-Hee! That's great! This design is great too, in my humble opinion. You wouldn't expect a ghost to have such a goblinoid appearance, but Tee-Hee delivers both flavors of common RPG monster at once in an elegant package. Naturally Tee-Hees can phase through walls and are invincible to most attacks, staples of any Game Ghost (TM), and their pursuit is marked with constant laughter. Admittedly their laugh is more of a "mua-ha-ha" than a "tee-hee", but I'm willing to forgive it.

There's also a purple version! This one ignores Banjo and Kazooie entirely, preferring to move around in square patterns. Don't worry, though, it still laughs a lot. What's so funny about squares? Only the purple Tee-Hee knows.

Grimlet

Appearing on a ship known as the Rusty Bucket, Grimlet will disguise themselves as ordinary pipes, only showing their eyes and fangs when Banjo and Kazooie draw near. Despite their metallic appearance, they can stretch their bodies way out to take a bite out of bears and birds alike. You know, I like this design, but I feel like it could be improved somehow. Hmm...

Ooh! The beta version of Grimlet has a really interesting twist- eyes in its own mouth! Of course, any monster is improved when it puts its peepers in its gullet, and Grimlet is no exception. Well, let's keep going! 

An even earlier screenshot shows them with white, human eyes... and with a fleshy inner maw... Nope, I don't like this one bit. Abort!

Ahhh... Much better. Now that's a sentient cowl ventilator that I'd let take a chunk out of me. No, I don't have a problem! Quiet, you!

Of course, there are many more denizens of the BK universe worthy of scrutiny - in a universe where even common collectibles will strike up a conversation with you, that's not surprising. In particular, a Banjo-Tooie showcase would be a lot of fun... But I have to stop myself somewhere. Until next time!

[robininthelabyrinth]

I love your Nie brothers content, all of it, but there is so little written about the friendship between Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian! We know they were friends in Cloud Recesses, but it's never explored how these genius guys, even if one is focused on magical inovations and the other on strategy and politics, got on. Something which shows how well they got each other would be great

1

Wei Wuxian’s fist trembled. How dare he – worthless peacock – my shijie..!

But before he could throw a punch, he saw a swirl of white – Lan Wangji, sweeping forward with a face like a graveyard, and Nie Huaisang cringing in his shadow – and suddenly he realized that he didn’t need to punch Jin Zixuan.

Speaking of others behind their backs is forbidden.

Sneering without reason is forbidden.

Arrogance is forbidden.

Do not be haughty and complacent.

Do not praise yourself and slander others.

Do not make assumptions about others.

Do not insult people.

Do not take your words lightly.

Wei Wuxian grinned with teeth. “Hey, Lan Zhan!” he sang out, and Jin Zixuan blanched. “Perfect timing!”

Later, after he’d laughed himself sick at Jin Zixuan’s punishment – humiliatingly perfect – and making his appreciation very clear to Lan Wangji, he went to go find Nie Huaisang.

“When did you go get Lan Zhan?” he asked, honestly curious. He hadn’t known he was going to get into a fight until he was there and it was happening, but Nie Huaisang, of all people, had apparently figured out what was going to happen before it happened and took steps to fix it.

“The second they started talking about girls,” Nie Huaisang said promptly. “It’s fairly obvious that Jin Zixuan is resentful of his parents managing his life and he’s lashing out at everything, including specifically your shijie, so a nasty comment was inevitable.”

Wei Wuxian blinked, derailed from his original line of questioning. “He – what? Wait, that’s why he’s so rude about my shijie?”

“Of course,” Nie Huaisang said, blinking back at him. “What did you think? That he just didn’t like her? He’s barely even met her.”

Wei Wuxian hadn’t thought about that way, but it made a certain amount of sense. “When did you get so good at reading people?” he asked, bemused. “I didn’t…uh…”

“Think I have any skills?”

Wei Wuxian coughed.

“I don’t!” Nie Huaisang beamed, clearly very proud of it. “But I do have a lot of expensive hobbies, and that means I need pocket money.”

Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure he understood the connection, and said as much.

Nie Huaisang laughed at him. “The Nie sect believes in self-sufficiency,” he explained. “My brother gives me a certain amount of money to spend, sure, but we’re not the Jin sect; I can’t just buy everything that I lay my eyes on and send the bill back home – my brother would break my legs! I’m expected to find a way to increase the money I get until it’s enough to cover both my needs and wants, necessities and luxuries both, and if I can’t, then I have to do without luxuries.”

Nie Huaisang has never, not once, in the entire few months Wei Wuxian spent in his company, done without luxuries.

“So,” Wei Wuxian said, feeling oddly unnerved and unsure why, “you learned how to read people because you want to act like…a merchant?”

Nie Huaisang lightly tapped his head with his fan, rolling his eyes at him. “Stop being such a landed gentry young master, Wei-xiong. There’s nothing wrong with trade! How much of your sect’s money comes from merchants interested in keeping their trade routes free of resentful energy?”

Wei Wuxian wrinkled his nose a little. “That’s cheapening it a bit, don’t you think? As cultivators, it’s our duty to stand up as heroes, to defend the innocent and defeat evil, to purify –”

“Right, right. Remind me again how the Jiang sect pays for all that pretty purple?”

“Well…I mean…”

Technically, yes, there were all the dye sellers and the fabric merchants, but…

Nie Huaisang was laughing at him.

“Don’t worry about it, Wei-xiong,” he said, wiping his eyes. “You stick to doing your own thing. If you ever need to sell anything, come to me.”

“Of course,” Wei Wuxian said, privately thinking to himself that he’d rather farm for crops than become a seller hawking his goods in the marketplace. “Hey, wait, what is it that you sell, anyway?”

Nie Huaisang sniggered and refused to tell him.

2

It was porn.

Also barbeque and liquor, although in that case Nie Huaisang mostly played the middleman between the vendors of Caiyi Town and the students stuck eating Lan vegetables.

Sometimes he could even be convinced to tug on his contacts for other things, too.

“You’re a true friend,” Wei Wuxian said, clutching the bottle of chili sauce to his chest. “A true and wonderful friend.”

“You still have to pay,” Nie Huaisang said, his eyes curving up behind his fan. “No discounts.”

“A ruthless, vicious, cut-throat friend…”

“I lend you the porn for free, don’t I?

“Wonderful! Wonderful friend!”

3

No matter what Jiang Cheng said, Wei Wuxian was trying to keep his head down during their time at the indoctrination camp. He was taking this whole thing very seriously: he wasn’t making a fuss (too much), he wasn’t being insulting (too much), he wasn’t even socializing (too much).

Lan Wangji didn’t count, anyway; after what had happened to him, he needed someone bothering him.

But Wei Wuxian was being good and keeping back from the rest!

Well, he was, except then he saw Nie Huaisang and just had to go over to say hello. It was only polite, and had nothing to do with the fact that during the months he spent at the Cloud Recesses, he’d learned that Nie Huaisang could sell anyone on anything.

“I don’t suppose you have contacts that will sell you barbeque here,” Wei Wuxian said as a greeting, because the food they’d received was frankly disgusting in a way that made him wistful for the Lan sect like it had been a gourmet restaurant.

“Well,” Nie Huaisang hedged, and Wei Wuxian’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t get too excited, it’s not barbeque…”

It was meat, though, chunks of that had probably been roasted as skewers at one point, and Wei Wuxian didn’t even care that it was cold as he scarfed it down, immediately feeling ten times better than he’d been before.

“Where?” he asked. “How?”

“There’ll be a surprise inspection tomorrow morning,” Nie Huaisang said instead. “Keep your head down, they’re looking to make an example out of somebody.”

“How do you know that?”

Nie Huaisang shrugged. “I brought art.”

“To the indoctrination camp?”

“Wen soldiers get lonely and bored too, Wei-xiong.”

“You’re trading for information using porn?”

“Don’t be silly. I’m trading porn for meat, and getting the information while we’re chatting. A large number of the Wen sect cultivators used to be their own sects, you know, before they were absorbed, and not all of them are happy about what’s going on here. You just have to figure out who the loyalists are, avoid them, and focus on the rest, and it’s easy.”

“I still can’t believe you brought porn to the Wen sect,” Wei Wuxian said, shaking his head. “What’ll you do if your brother finds out?”

“You’re joking, right? He helped me pack it.”

Wei Wuxian will never understand the Nie sect.

4

Wei Wuxian stared wordlessly at his bowl.

There was a single slice of radish in it.

“Is this a joke?” he asked Wen Qing, because it might be, and she glared at him, meaning that no, it was not. “Don’t we have anything else?”

“With what money, Wen-gongzi? Do you think it comes from thin air?”

“I had a friend once who could make it come out of thin air,” he grumbled, looking down at his bowl. He’d practiced inedia, he didn’t need it, except for the fact that he really, really did. Not having a golden core made things hard. “He could’ve sold fish to fishermen, except he mostly just sold porn.”

Wen Qing rolled her eyes at him. “Wonderful story, Wei-gongzi. Positively heartwarming. But unless your old erotic art dealer is going to come to Yiling to help us sell some radishes, I don’t care.”

Naturally, that was impossible. Wei Wuxian was a villain now, his name blackened, the whole cultivation world against him –

Actually, as far as he could tell, the Nie sect didn’t seem to give a damn about him one way or another. From all the stories Nie Huaisang had told about his brother and from everything he’d seen in the war, Nie Mingjue wasn’t the sort of person to let evil sit around on a mountain while he was busy with other things – if he objected, he’d be there the next day with his saber, ready to put him in his place.

He hadn’t, obviously.

His hatred of the Wen sect was pretty well-known, but he’d taken no action at all to invade Yiling and demand that Wei Wuxian hand them over, and Wei Wuxian was mostly sure that it wasn’t because he was scared of what Wei Wuxian could do with the Stygian Tiger Seal.

…it was probably just the hunger getting to him and making him think crazy things. Not caring enough to go against him was pretty far from supporting him, after all.

But, hey, he wouldn’t be risking anything if he just wrote a tiny little letter asking Nie Huaisang for some advice on selling things, right?

I never thought I’d see the day my Wei-xiong finally became a merchant, the return letter said. I’ll be there in three days. I expect to see liquor.

Wei Wuxian took Wen Ning down the mountain and stood on his shoulders in order to emancipate a jar from the local tavern, but by the time Nie Huaisang arrived, there was, in fact, liquor.

Even Wen Qing – who had opposed the entire outing once she had heard about it upon their return – suddenly thought it was a perfectly reasonable sort of theft when Nie Huaisang offered to trade a giant crate full of meat for it.

“We had some leftovers from a boar hunt,” Nie Huaisang said mournfully, accepting the liquor and a bowl of radishes. “I need variety, Wei-gongzi, it’s terrible. You have to help me get rid of it; I can’t stand to look at it any longer.”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Wei Wuxian reminded him in between glorious bites of pork. He was going to be a very good friend and do his best to ensure that Nie Huaisang’s request was fulfilled, even if it meant taking seconds and possibly thirds. “I asked for advice, not a visit.”

“You can’t expect me to put my good name on what could be inferior goods,” Nie Huaisang sniffed.

“Your good name? The one known for porn, you mean?”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes at him. “So show me what you have to sell.”

“It’s mostly just the radishes,” Wei Wuxian said. “I tried to tell Wen Qing that we should plant potatoes, but –”

“Forget the radishes,” Nie Huaisang said. “What’s this I hear about you designing a compass that pinpoints resentful energy?”

“Oh, that?” Wei Wuxian said, blinking. “Yeah, I made one of those – the Burial Mounds is the biggest source of resentful energy around, and it’s easier to have a compass that points home instead of north, you know? But what does that have to do with selling radishes?”

“Wei-xiong, you’re hopeless. Leave it all to me, and you’ll have your sect up and running in no time.”

“Yeah, that would be – wait, sect? What sect?”

“Actually,” Nie Huaisang said, tapping his fan against his cheek. He was just plain old ignoring Wei Wuxian now, which, hey! “I take it back – before you leave everything to me, show me what other ideas you’ve been cooking up. What about those talismans you used during the war? The spirit-drawing ones?”

“Spirit summoning,” Wei Wuxian corrected.

“Yes, those. Have you improved on those at all?”

“Uh, I mean, I guess…”

“Good. Show me everything.”

5

“So I have a sect now,” Wei Wuxian told Lan Wangji, who had come to visit. “We sell things to support it. Apparently.”

Lan Wangji nodded, apparently already aware of this. “The clan elders have agreed that using your flags to draw fierce corpses and other creatures away from areas with innocent human lives is an acceptable use.”

“Even the Lan sect?” Wei Wuxian marveled. “No wonder we’re making so much money.”

Then he sighed.

Lan Wangji looked questioningly at him.

“Well, I have a sect now,” Wei Wuxian said. “Everyone’s expecting me to – you know. Form the core of the sect.”

“Marry,” Lan Wangji concluded. Possibly advised? No, that didn’t sound like he was urging him to go ahead, which made a total of one person. “You do not have to if you do not wish. You already have an heir.”

“A-Yuan’s too young to be a proper heir,” Wei Wuxian objected, though he was secretly gleeful that people were generally accepting him as one. “And obviously I can’t just pick anyone; how will I know if they’re a spy? Or if they’ll secretly dislike A-Yuan?” He sighed again. “The worst part is, I think Nie Huaisang is plotting against me, too.”

“Plotting?”

“Yeah! He’s encouraging people to ask me about marriage, when clearly it’s better for me to stay off the market…what about you, Lan Zhan? Are you planning on marrying?”

“No,” Lan Wangji said.

“We’ll be a bunch of old bachelors, then,” Wei Wuxian said. “You should come more often, A-Yuan loves you…hey! I have a great idea! Why don’t we get married? Then no one will bother us ever again!”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said.

“Mm? What does that mean?”

“It means I will need to send Nie Huaisang his payment in the morning,” Lan Wangji said, and moved to sit next to Wei Wuxian.

“Payment? You bought something from him? What did you want to –”

Lan Wangji silenced him pretty effectively, no spell necessary, and by the time Wei Wuxian retained enough ability to think through what exactly the purchase must have been, he’d already been converted to thinking that it was a very intelligent purchase to make.

Nie Huaisang really could sell anything.

[forever-rogue]

Green Thumb

A/N: So this was totally unprompted, but I really liked the idea of it! This is based off the idea from @softboiipascal​ that Frankie likes to garden and has a green thumb. I totally and fully support this hc and it’s the sweetest thing. Just some fluff! Enjoy!

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: none

FRANKIE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

You'd never met your neighbor. Not really anyway; you'd exchanged pleasantries upon your move into the neighborhood a few months ago but that was about it. Nothing more than a friendly 'welcome to the neighborhood, I'm Francisco Morales -  Frankie.'

He'd been nice - polite - just like the rest of your new compatriots in the small, quiet neighborhood. There wasn't really much to tell about him otherwise. He presented an enigma; perhaps you'd just never taken the time to notice more about him. Francisco Morales was handsome in a conventionally unconventional way: tall and fairly fit with dark hair that curled at the ends, gentle brown eyes, and a sweet smile, but the nose is what got you. While it wasn't a typically classical nose, it was Aquiline in nature and suited him perfectly. Combined with the sultry baritone you'd heard for only a few seconds, it presented a wonderful picture. He was easy on the eyes and ears. 

But that was about as far as you'd gotten with him. You'd noticed his pattern of coming and going was fairly typical with a standard work day. Occasionally you'd spied a friend or two that would stop over, or he left the house for extended periods of time, usually on weekends. Gods, you felt like a stalker just knowing his comings and going. But really they weren't hard to pick up on. He seemed to prefer a solitary, quiet life and you wondered if it was by choice or circumstances. 

Whatever it was, there was something comforting about knowing that Francisco Morales lived right next to you.

It was a particularly nice late morning when you finally decided to get out of bed and do something. Maybe you would take a walk and treat yourself to brunch at your favorite little spot. That seemed like a good idea. You even decided you'd dress up, just because you felt like - what more reason was needed than that? You'd set out your favorite sundress and shoes by the bed, determined to slip them on after a hot, relaxing shower. 

But on this particular day, fate seemed to have conspired against you. Halfway through your shower, while you were still lathered in soft scented bubbles from head to toe, the water went from hot and relaxing to frigid. Almost jumping back from the sudden stream of iciness, you groaned in annoyance at the sudden interruption. Maybe it was just...a moment or two of coldness? Maybe you’d used up all the hot water? Maybe...it would be fine. 

So you stood there, naked and freezing, waiting for the water to warm back up. But then...nothing happened. At all. If possible, the water grew even colder. 

As you saw it, you had two options: get out and remain soaped up, or you could brace it and quickly rinse yourself off. Quickly opting for the latter, you braced yourself as you stepped back into the stream and washed off the soap and everything as quickly as humanly possible. 

By the time you were done, you were freezing, and trying to keep your lips from trembling too much. Wrapping yourself up in your biggest, and fuzziest, towel, you quickly worked to warm yourself up before getting dressed. If you hadn’t been awake before you certainly were now. 

This wasn’t how you’d planned your day off. Wrapping the towel around your head, you quickly dressed and threw open your windows and curtains to let the warmth of the spring sun into your bedroom. It had to be something with the water heater; you had no clue what else it could suddenly be. If you were being totally honest, you had no clue what it would be with the water heater.You’d have to call the landlord or some maintenance person as soon as possible to get this resolved. 

Trudging down the hall and into the garage, you examined the offending object but couldn’t make heads or tails of it. But that’s when an idea crossed into your head. Frankie. You didn’t know him well, but you thought you knew him well to garner that he would have some sort of knowledge about this type of stuff. 

Besides that, it would be the perfect excuse to talk to him. You’d be kidding yourself if you said the mystery of your neighbor wasn’t intriguing. 

That settled it. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

You slipped on some new sandals as you trudged over to your neighbor’s house, glad to see that his car was in the driveway. For some reason, an odd bundle of nerves had settled into your stomach as you approached his front door. Why, why, why? This was just Frankie and it was just for a quick favor. Hell, if nothing else, you’d even offer to pay him for his time. Pushing away your worries and swallowing down your fears, you held up your hand and knocked on his door, loud enough to make sure he’d hear, but not too loud to be rude.

Standing back, you rocked on your heels as you waited for him to answer. But after a few minutes of silence, you wondered if he was actually home. Maybe you’d been mistaken and he was actually gone...deciding to head back to your own place, you paused when you’d heard some sounds from the backyard. Curious, you mused to yourself, very curious. 

Stepping off the porch, you walked around to the gate that led to the backyard and noticed that it was unlocked. Something compelled you to let yourself in, and slowly you did so, “hello? Frankie?”

Still not hearing anything, you walked all the way around the back but stopped suddenly in your tracks as you noticed his garden. You weren’t sure how you had never noticed it before, but it was - simply put - beautiful. 

Filled with rows of freshly grown vegetables, lined with fruit trees, and bordered by beautiful, stunning flowers. It was like a little oasis in the middle of suburbia. Whatever Frankie possessed, a green thumb was definitely in his arsenal. 

And that’s where you found him. Kneeling on the ground as he trimmed and gathered up some of his fresh vegetables. He was singing softly to himself as  music played from the small speaker on the porch. No wonder he hadn’t heard you; in some way you felt like you should just turn around and leave. It was like you had walked into a private moment; a man in his personal sanctuary.

But as soon as you’d resolved to leave, Frankie must have sensed your presence as he turned around and spotted you. A small smile tugged on the corners of his mouth as he brushed off his dirty hands on his jeans and stood up. Had he always been this handsome? Sweat trickled down his glorious neck and soaked into the collar of his t-shirt, and you had to struggle not to stare.

“H-hi Frankie,” you held up your hand a pathetic little wave, “I-I’m sorry to interrupt, I knocked but you didn’t answer and then I heard some noise and yeah...sorry?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he was effortless and easy as he walked over to the speaker and turned it down before grabbing his glass of water and chugging half of it down in one go, “is everything alright?”

“I, ummm, this seems really silly,” you scratched at the back of your neck awkwardly and Frankie did his utmost best as he tried not to stare at you in that pretty sundress. He’d seen you in it, just around, and always thought it was beautiful - you were beautiful. Instead, he keep his gaze trained pointedly at your face; in all honesty, that was just as much of a struggle, you were easily the most gorgeous being he had ever seen. But you quickly snapped him back into reality, “but my hot water stopped worked mid shower this morning, and I-I had no clue about how any of this works, and I was wondering if you did? I should probably just have called the...someone. I just…”

“I can come and take a look,” he offered up the sweet smile, displaying the singular dimple you’d never noticed until now, “it just so happens that your hunch was right and I happen to know about these kinds of things.”

“I...thank you, Frankie,” your shoulders seemed to unwind with relief, and you knew you were in good, capable hands, “I really appreciate it. I hope I’m not interrupting anything…”

“Not at all,” he promised, “I was just finished up. My vegetables have been doing very well this spring and have been growing like crazy. Would you...you like some?”

“Have you done all of this by yourself?” you were in awe as he shyly nodded. Taking a few steps closer, you admired some of the blooms and blossoms that were near you, “everything is beautiful. It’s impressive - I could never.”

“It’s not that hard,” he admitted as he reached for the basket he had been filling up, “it’s just about taking the time to do it and be thorough. It’s a hobby I picked up after...after I left the military. Occupies the hands and mind and results in something useful.”

Military. You had no clue he was a veteran. But then again, you quickly realized, you had a lot to learn about him still. 

“It’s turned into a beautiful hobby,” you gestured to the lush garden, “and you’ve obviously got some knack for it, Frankie. I’ll just have to come over to you whenever I need some fresh fruit and veggies.”

“You’re more than welcome any time,” he promised as he tucked the basket under his arm and stepped over to you, “come on, I’ll take a look at your water heater now, and then maybe we can do something else this afternoon…”

“I was planning on taking myself out to brunch,” you admitted with a sheepish grin, “perhaps you’d like to join me?”

“I’d like that...I’d like that a lot,” he agreed with a grin as bright as the golden sun, “what’s your favorite flower, by the way? Just curious…”

“Daisies,” you told him as he nodded and committed that to memory, “daisies.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Frankie?” you walked into Frankie’s house, arms filled with groceries for the barbecue the two of you were throwing over the weekend. The whole house smelled like pie, and you were sure that Frankie must have been up to some baking with his fresh apples while you were out. Just as you walked into the kitchen and set the bags on the counter, your suspicions were confirmed when you spied the two pies sitting on the counter and cooling down. 

“Hi honey,” he poked his head in from the backyard as soon as he’d heard you, happiness seeping into his features and his bones when he realized it was you, “didn’t realize you were buying half of the grocery store! I could have come and helped.” 

“It’s alright,” you promised, “a single trip and two bags. Nothing I couldn’t handle. I’ve got everything for the barbecue this weekend. I wanted to make sure we had everything.”

“You’re the best, you know that?” he came over behind you, easily wrapping his arms around your waist as  he pressed a few gentle, delicate kisses to your shoulder. Barely able to contain the ticklish giggles that escaped your lips, you turned your head to offer him a proper kiss, “missed you, baby.”

“You saw me this morning,” you teased at his little pout, “can’t have missed me that much! I see you’ve kept busy. How much baking did you get done?”

“Still missed you,” he insisted with a gentle kiss to your forehead. You couldn’t help but grin at his soft little display of affection, “and I only made the two pies...but I did start on attempting to make some fruit preserves. Who knows if they’ll even turn out good at all!”

“If you’re making them, I’m sure they’ll be delicious,” you reassured him. The man really did have a knack for not only gardening, but also baking and cooking. You’d really lucked out with Francisco Morales; you were more than thankful you’d asked him to come and look at your water heater on that fateful day almost six months ago. You never thought it would lead to all of this - but you were more than happy it did. 

“You’re just saying that,” he joked as you huffed in jest before wrapping your arms around him and engulfing him in a giant, tight hug, “fine, fine, fine, you win.”

‘I know,” you stuck your tongue out at him, “now help me unpack and then we can figure out dinner. Maybe take out tonight?”

“Sounds good to me...there’s just...one thing,” the man you loved suddenly seemed to turn shy as he stared at his feet, “just...stay here for a moment, okay?”

“Sure,” you arched a brow as you suddenly worried about him. Gods, you hoped everything was okay, “Frankie, what’s wrong?”

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, “just close your eyes.”

You did as you were told and listened to the sound of his eager footsteps race from the kitchen and...back outside? Shrugging lightly to yourself, you kept your eyes closed as you leaned against the counter in anticipation. 

It was indeed only a few moments before he bounded back and you could feel his body heat in front of you, “Frankie?”

“Alright, sweet girl,” he whispered, “you can open your eyes.”

Slowly opening your curious eyes, you were quickly met with the sight of a bouquet of the most beautiful daisies you had ever seen. They were soft, and delicate, in various shades of brilliant sunset colors. Your jaw dropped as you looked between them and the man holding them. 

“Francisco…” it was all you could manage to choke out as you looked at them, tears already pricking the backs of your eyes, “these are absolutely beautiful.”

“They’re for you,” he insisted, almost appearing nervous, “you said they were your favorite.”

“They are,” you took them and delicately thumbed over some of the petals, “where did you…”

“I grew them,” he admitted proudly and you were sure your heart was about to burst with happiness and love, “I planted them the day after your water heater incident and they’re finally all ready for you.”

“You grew them for me?” a single tear rolled down your cheek, which he gently wiped away, “how have I never noticed them before?”

“Of course, I did,” he grinned, “I planted them where they would be a little hidden, so you could only really see them if you were looking for them. D-do you like them, sweet girl?”

“I love them,” you reassured him with a soft kiss, “they’re absolutely beautiful. I love you, Francisco. More than words could ever convey. Thank you, my love.”

“Anything for you,” he put his arm around you and pulled you in for a hug, careful not to crush the flowers, “I love you.”

Maybe you were thankful for that stupid old water heater after all.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[well-its-not-human-anymore]

So this is a personal one for me to ask and if you're not comfortable with it don't mind it; how would the tmnt boys (seperate) react when the reader confesses that they're autistic after the boys got curious when she had some peculiar, behavior or stims. The reader would be stressed, because she has a crush on the tmnt boy in question and she didn't want them to find her weird or just stop interacting with her. When she's met with confusion instead, because the boys never heard of it, cue this weird conversation where reader tells them to the best of her ability what it is and the boys just keep asking questions. Also some general headcannons with it maybe?

Okay so I'm actually really happy that you asked me this because I feel like ASD isn't portrayed a lot in any type of media. My ADD and ASD have a lot of overlap so I hope I can capture what you're asking of me!

Now let's get into it!

TMNT Headcanons

The boys reacting to an autistic reader

Leonardo

he wasn't really sure what was happening the first time you reacted

one minute you were standing next to him doing dishes and the next you were attempting to claw your skin off like an angry cat

Leo tried not to look annoyed as he watched you rub your hands against your shirt until your flesh started to turn red

you looked like you were crying but he knew you weren't

but your face was starting to turn purple and your cheeks were puffy from the effort of holding your breath

"Y/N? You need to breathe."

You shot a glare at him, scathing eyes meeting his now very concerned expression

your own softened and you clutched your arms to your chest, heaving oxygen into your lungs until your face became a normal shade again

"Are you okay?"

The words were stuck in your throat and you weren't sure if you should nod or shake your head

so you gave him a half-hearted shrug

he frowned back at you but turned to finish the dishes on his own

when he questioned you about it later he couldn't help but be curious

"Well actually it's uh- it's kinda a sensory type of thing? There are certain textures that I can't stand touching do I avoid them but if I come into contact by accident my brain just kinda explodes and I shut down."

"How exactly does that work though?"

"I don't really understand it much but like- you know that feeling you get when you think there's a bug on you and there's not but it really really feels like it?"

He nodded

"Yeah, it feels like that. And anytime I touch something that triggers that reaction it takes FOREVER to get the feeling off my skin. That's why I usually wear gloves when I do dishes. Guess I just forgot to grab 'em today."

He was sympathetic

and god, you were so embarrassed

lucky for you, Leo's not an asshole

"Well thank you for explaining it to me, you really freaked me out earlier. I'll talk to April and see if we can keep a pair or two at the lair just in case you forget again."

Consider your heart melted

you couldn't even find the words to thank him and holy shit was your face red

"Hey y/n?"

"Yeah Leo?"

"Why didn't you ever tell me- us that you were autistic?"

Did you rip the band aid off now or make something up? Which would ,technically speaking, be less catastrophic in the long run?

"I uh- I really like you and I really didn't want you or the other's to look at me differently..."

wow, you liked him? miss ma'am you have saved this boy a world of anxiety and damn does he thank you for it

"Thanks for telling me... and y/n? I really like you to."

Awh fuck yeah, best possible execution of band aid-ripping-off ever

Donatello

Donnie wished he could act surprised when you finally told him

he really wanted to, it would've made you feel better for sure

but he sucked at lying and he didn't want to make you feel like he thought you were an idiot

because that was so far from the truth

after going through extensive research on Mikey's behalf when he suspected he had ADHD Donnie had stumbled across many different websites that discussed the symptoms and overlaps between both disorders

to make a long story short, Donnie knew that you had ASD and he was waiting for you to tell him

it would probably come off as rude if he brought it up in conversation right?

he didn't want to risk it

but that didn't stop him from keeping an eye on you and your behaviors

he was a man of science, of course he was going to analyze you

not in a weird way or anything, just as a curious sort of precaution

but the longer you were involved in the turtle's lives the more noticeable your stims and meltdowns got, Donnie did his best to cover for you without making you suspicious of him

eventually he'd come up with something that he hoped would come across as a friendly gesture and wouldn't set you off or scare you away

it was game night at the lair and you, as always, were perched on the arm of the sofa, a large grin plastered on your face

inside your head was exploding but you were masking it pretty well if you do say so yourself

but Donnie was, well... donnie was donnie

so when he noticed you starting to rock a little more visibly he removed his attention from commentating the game and grabbed a pair of headphones from the side table

you were beyond confused when he passed them to you but your face revealed everything

"They're noise cancelling, try them on."

holy shit it was like putting your head underwater, everything was muffled

not in the way normal headphones did, you quite literally couldn't hear anything at all, just a calm amount of nothing

you nearly started crying when you realized that Donnie had figured you out on his own

but you'd never been more relieved about anything in your life

Raphael

he wouldn't admit that he was mesmerized by your presence

you practically radiated calm

his complete opposite

it was his favorite thing about you, because despite your quiet disposition and calming aura you weren't afraid to call him out or rebut any of his insults

this was not something you expected him to appreciate nor was it something you thought would make you catch feelings

but damn if you didn't

he'd been sitting in on yours and Donnie's little experiment for an hour or so now, watching you both exchange quiet whispers and inside jokes that you always seemed to lag on

then you slipped up

not bad, nothing detrimental to the project, just the same mistake that you'd already made ten times over

you might as well have exploded

"Y'N, you just have to move thi-"

"I KNOW DONATELLO. I FUCKING KNOW AND I JUST CAN'T DO THIS BULLSHIT!"

you set everything down gently enough to avoid breaking it before turning and storming out of the lab, waving your hands like they were on fire

Raph and Donnie exchanged a look that sent the larger red turtle following after you

when you calmed yourself down enough to talk you kept your gaze locked on the wall, explaining that you couldn't make eye contact when you were upset

he might not be the smartest brother, but Raph's no dummy, he put those pieces together pretty quickly after you told him that one small detail

he wasn't upset that you didn't tell him and you'd personally never been more relieved

your heart nearly splattered into the stratosphere when you finally gace him your own explanation

"yeah, I like ya too."

you grinned so wide you were sure your face would split open and your entire body rocked side to side with excitement

he thought that was pretty adorable too

And he did stick around to offer a bit of support when you apologized to Donnie for screaming at him

Michaelangelo

to be frank it probably shouldn't have taken so long for Mikey to realize that you were autistic

the similarities between your own personality and his ADHD were so in sight it was near painful

it was his turn to make dinner that night and you'd made sure that you came over early to help him set up, you knew how side-tracked he'd get and you were the poster child for solid routine

what more perfect matchup existed?

trick question, there isn't one

you were on one side of the counter cutting vegetables and he was on the other throwing said vegetables into the mixing pot

the music was at an ungodly level of loud so your only means of communication were screaming over it

"MIKEY."

"WHA?"

"YOU GOT THE-"

"YEAH."

"AND THE-"

"UH HUH."

"COOL, HAVE YOU SEEN THE-"

"TONGS? NO, THE SKEWERS. YEAH, THEY'RE IN THE OTHER DRAWER."

"THANKS."

the two of you went about your previous tasks, thinking nothing of the conversation that had just taken place

at least until you'd begun washing your knife and cutting board

that's when Casey walked in, looking both perturbed and annoyed at the same time

"Alright, which one of you knows telepathy?"

Mikey exchanged a glance with you and you returned it with a raised eyebrow

"The hell you mean brah?"

he looked at the both of you like you were the ones that had grown four extra heads before speaking again

"You literally just had a conversation with like five words and somehow just knew what the other meant? What's up with that?"

you glanced at Mikey again

"Holy shit, did we?"

"I mean, not really. You used your hands."

now all three of you were confused but it quickly became two when Casey shook his head in defeat and left the room

"You know I think he's right."

he blinked first and your staring contest ended

"But you used your hands-"

"I got autism Mikey, one does not simply not use their hands as forms of speech."

"You're-"

"Yep."

was the silence laughing at you? could it do that? it was kinda rude

"Huh, that actually makes sense, that's not mean is it?"

you shook your head no

"You're just me but fast."

Mikey agreed with that, pestered you with a few more questions, and went back about working, as did you, you saw no reason to address it further

but your cheeks burned red

"Yo- Y/N that actually explains why everyone else thinks we're a thing."

you didn't know if you could choke on air or not but you did it anyways

"Are we?"

he gave you his signature grin

"If we are then Raph owes April a hundred bucks."

you returned his smile

"Oh this oughta be good."

I'd like to preface this by apologizing for my near three week absence. Life got crazy and my writer's block hopped on a train, went through a school zone, killed seven pedestrians, and committed tax fraud before tumbling off a cliff never to be seen again.

But on the bright side- I got my SAT scores back and started some scholarship applications. Super happy with that. School's out in a few weeks so I'll be able to write more (hopefully).

Anyways, I hope I got this one down okay. I may have hyper analyzed the request so I might be a little off. But I really enjoyed doing this one and I hope you like it!

-Mars 🌠

[valdomarx]

Lost in Translation

McShep + fake relationship, for @lamberts <3

John glances around warily. The people of this planet seem friendly enough, but with Teyla and Ronon off visiting another village, he feels acutely vulnerable.

“Will others be joining you?” The village elder gives him a inquiring look.

“Just McKay. He’s my scientist.”

The elder frowns. “What is scientist? We do not know this word.”

“Oh.” He looks around the mud hut and contemplates how to explain it. They clearly don’t have a frame of reference for astrophysics or computer programming here. “He’s part of my team. He travels with us and, you know, gets us out of difficult situations. Opens doors. Fixes things when they break. That sort of thing.”

“Ahh.” The elder smiles beatifically. “This we know. He is your chap’tah.”

“Sure, I guess.”

“It is good for one who travels to have a chap’tah.”

John grins. “He has his uses.”

Some of the villagers raise their eyebrows at that, but it’s soon forgotten as they move onto the trade negotiations.

-

“I brought you food.” One of the village women smiles at him shyly as she hands over some kind of bread and fruit. “Should I bring more for you to give to your chap’tah as well?”

“Thank you.” John waves her off. “But don’t worry about McKay. I’m sure he’ll track down the food himself soon enough.”

The woman draws back in horror. “You do not feed him?”

“What? No?” John boggles. “I mean. He’s allowed to eat. Does so a whole lot, actually. But I don’t typically oversee that personally.”

“In our culture, we honor our chap’tahs by providing them with food. Is it not so where you are from?”

“It’s not.” John thinks about the last time the Daedalus came by to restock Atlantis and the frankly incredible volume of snacks that were distributed among the scientists. “Not officially, anyway.”

“Perhaps you should try it.”

He thinks about the way Rodney’s face lights up when he brings donuts to the lab. “Perhaps I should.”

-

“We have prepared a hut for you and your chap’tah.”

“Great.” John isn’t crazy about staying the night here, but the gate is a long hike away and they clearly aren’t in any immediate danger.

The villager, a young man with broad shoulders, leads him to a hut on the edge of the central meeting place. “We hope you will be comfortable.”

John sticks his head inside. It is exceedingly small, barely enough space for one person. It was going to be cramped as hell with both him and Rodney in there.

But they are guests, and he doesn’t want to be rude. “Lovely. Thank you.”

The young man gives him a knowing wink. “We know that a man likes to keep his chap’tah close.”

And that was… weird. But okay, having a scientist close at hand was pretty useful.

-

Rodney storms up to him and John laughs so hard he nearly chokes. He’s wearing some kind of elaborately tied white tunic and has flowers woven into his hair. His face has turned a furious puce color and he is fuming.

“Fun day?” John asks when he’s regained enough breath to speak.

“They insisted on dressing me like this and it’s all your fault.” He waves a finger in John’s face.

“How’s that?”

“They said I had to be presented handsomely. As if my usual attire is anything but! And the more I argued, the more they insisted I had to because of you. ‘When one is chap’tah, one must be at one’s most agreeable.’” Rodney does a mean impression of one of the village elders. “What the hell did you tell them?”

“Honestly, nothing! Just that you were my team scientist. Maybe they really love celebrating science here?”

“Oh, right, because this is a bastion of forward-looking experimental thinking!” Rodney gestures wildly around the village. “I feel so celebrated.”

John suppresses a smile. “I think you look very nice. White suits you.”

He keeps a straight face for all of two seconds before Rodney tries to throttle him.

-

That night, there’s a celebration in honor of their new trade alliance. The villagers build an enormous bonfire and smoke meats and vegetables over it like the galaxy’s biggest barbecue. After the food, they hand around gourds full of sweet mead which leaves sugar on John’s lips and tingling in his throat. And then the dancing begins.

Dancing has a long tradition in this culture, he learns: dances in the hope of a good harvest, dances to give thanks, dances to celebrate births and to commemorate deaths. Every family seems to own a drum or pipe of some kind, and they bring them out to play relentless, rhythmic music to which they twirl around the fire.

The mead must have been stronger than he thought, because when one of the villagers invites him to dance he takes her up on the offer, letting her show him the steps. He catches sight of Rodney watching him from the other side of the fire with a frown, and he’s compelled to pull him to his feet and to wipe that frown away.

Neither of them have the elegance and agility of the others, but that doesn’t seem to matter. John does his best to show him the footwork, but they mostly end up bumping into each other and laughing. At one point they collide so hard that Rodney nearly goes sprawling, and John catches him around the waist to hold him upright.

The firelight paints them both in hues of orange, and a red flush is spreading across the tops of his cheeks, the way it always does after more than one drink. John longs to trace it with his fingertips.

If I kissed him now, he catches himself thinking, he'd taste of honey and wood smoke.

They make it until dawn before staggering back to their hut. The villagers are still dancing, and they fall asleep to the sound of drumming.

-

John wakes up far too hot, with something fluffy tickling his nose and something soft and appealing pressed up against him.

He blinks, stretches, and realizes the tickling thing is Rodney's hair, which his face is buried in, and the heavy weight is Rodney's ass, which he's grinding up against.

Erm.

“Jesus, Sheppard, you could at least buy me dinner first.”

John stills, embarrassed. Though Rodney sounds bleary but not exactly adverse to the idea.

Interesting.

"How about once we get back?"

"Huh?" Rodney is not at his sharpest first thing in the morning.

"Dinner. You. Me. Atlantis."

"Oh." Rodney snuggles back into him. "Yeah, alright."

Nice. "Okay. Good "

There's a quiet moment, and John enjoys the warmth of his arms around Rodney.

Rodney never could appreciate quiet though. "Why did you stop?" He sounds almost petulant. It's kind of cute. "With the -" he gestures vaguely, "- you know."

"Technically I didn't buy you dinner yet."

"Ehh, I'm pretty easy. I'll put out for a potential dinner."

Really nice.

He smiles into Rodney's hair. "If you insist."

-

It’s several hours later that Teyla arrives. John is sat on a muddy bank playing a game involving balancing piles of sticks with some of the local kids, and Rodney has been hustled off to have more flowers braided into his hair. When the village women tugged him out of the hut, giggling and waving flowers, he’d thrown his hands up and barely even complained, so he must be in a truly good mood.

“John,” Teyla gives him a polite nod as she approaches, flanked by two of the villagers. “Caton and Sar’ai tell me that negotiations went well.”

He stretches lazily. “They did. I think we can get enough food to keep Atlantis stocked for several months.”

“Good. Well done.” She comes and sits by him on the bank. “They also told me that you were here with your husband.”

He blinks at her.

She’s hiding a smile. “Is there something you would like to tell me?”

“Erm.” John thinks back over the last day. The chap’tah. The food. The flowers. The shared hut.

Ahh.

“There seems to have been a misunderstanding about me and McKay. Though, on reflection, I can perhaps see how they might have got the wrong impression.”

Teyla nods sagely. “It would be best if you, how shall we say, play along for the rest of the visit? No need to risk a diplomatic incident.”

Very well. If he must, he must.

When Rodney comes back, this time dressed in a fetching blue sheet with violet flowers tucked behind his ears, John pulls him close and kisses him. Rodney makes a happy humming noise and none of the villagers seem perturbed, so he’s going to count that as a win.

As they collect their gear and begin the walk back to the gate, John takes Rodney’s hand in his own.

Teyla inclines her head knowingly. “I am glad your mission was successful,” she says.

"Just doing my part,” he replies, giving Rodney’s hand a little squeeze, “in the spirit of intergalactic understanding."

[thewildwaffle]

Humans are Weird - Birthdays

Another prompt from a lovely user on ao3

When humans throw a party, they don’t mess around. Or well, they do, that’s like half the point of their parties most of the time. What they don’t mess around with is the planning, preparation, and all-out general excitement and energy that goes into their parties. Scarsels, they'd only gotten halfway through the setup and decorating for Human Dana’s party and it seemed like it would be almost as much fun as the party itself! The special occasion this time was to commemorate the anniversary of Human Dana’s birth. When Peterrias was first told about the party plans, he'd been a bit blown away by just how much of everything there was. His people celebrated the anniversary of their hatching day, sure, but it was usually more of a happy acknowledgment of the day itself and of the life lived to that point rather than a formal festivity. Excited to be a part of such an important Earth culture custom, he had volunteered to help get things set up. There was a lot more that went into a human birthday party than he realized. At first, he'd gone with Human Jackson to help make the refreshments and treats that would be available to guests. He'd spent a little bit of time cutting up fresh vegetables that were edible for everyone on the crew to eat and arrange them on a colorful platter. That didn’t take long to do, but by the time he had it done, all the food preparation tasks that involved working with “safe” ingredients had already been taken. Not wanting to be in the way of preparations there, Peterias had wandered back to the main rec hall where the party decorations were at that point well underway. The humans had requisitioned party supplies the last time they’d stopped in a port with a half-decent market. Earth wares, as popular as they’ve become, were pretty easy to find, even very specific items like balloons, streamers, and a large pack of funny-looking conical hats.

Garubi sefra and human Jieun were setting up the streamers now. They twisted the thin strips of colorful paper into beautiful, swirling, drapes that swept from one side of the room to the other. He paused to take in the sight for a moment. There was something familiar about it all, but he couldn’t figure out why. Anyway, it was a lovely scene. Humans really did go all out. Or maybe this was just a good outlet for them to vent any pent-up creativity and partying they’d been holding in for the past few partecs aboard the ship. He suspected a combination of both. “Is there anything I can do to help here,” he approached the decorators. Human Jieun was having to climb up and down a step ladder to reach high enough to place the streamers. Peterias was one of the few crewmates aboard that stood taller than humans. That with his long arms and great reach, this seemed like the perfect job for him. With a little explanation, a few hijinks that went on while figuring out how to not get the tape to stick to him, he had the entire hall “decked out” as Jieun declared. There was still about half a roll of the decorative paper leftover. He watched it as he bounced it in his hand, smiling as it dawned on him why it looked so familiar to him. It looked just like a popular candy he enjoyed when he was a young hatchling. Wouldn’t it just be like humans to use pretty sweets as decorations? He had to admit, it was kind of a fun idea to multitask like that. Making sure no one was watching, he snuck a tentative nibble at the paper. It was absolutely disgusting. Definitely not a sweet ribbon! Oh, by the stars, it was so bitter! “Did you just try eating the crepe paper?” Jieun clapped a hand on Peterias’ shoulder as he came up from behind. “I’d guess from your face that it wasn’t very good!” “Pleah! Pleh… I… uh, you… you saw that?” He figured Jieun’s laughter was enough affirmation. “To be fair,” Garubi came to Peterias’ aide, “when I first saw the streamers, I thought they looked like large rolls of sweet ribbon as well.” Jieun’s smile remained as large as ever. “Yeah, but you didn’t try eating it!” Garubi took the remainder of the streamer roll from Peterias and went to put it away. “Not when you were looking,” Peterias heard the sefra mutter quietly before he got too far. Even though the room was already looking very festive, humans do not mess around when it comes to throwing parties. He helped Jieun and a few others set up some games and activities for the party. Once again, many hands might light work and the only thing left to do, so Jieun said, was blow up a few more balloons. “Thanks for helping set up though, I really do appreciate it. Dana’s going to love this! She has no idea we’ve got this planned, I can’t wait to see the look on her face!” “Glad to be included in such an important celebration of life,” Peterias closed his eyes and nodded to return for Jieun’s smile. “I am also very excited about the party. If I may ask, do you know how many years Dana is marking today?” “Uh, well, she’s turning thirty-seven in Earth years. I’d have to do the math to convert that to galactic standardized. I know doing that would make it a fraction of some sort.” Peterias tilted his head trying to recall what he knew about Earth. Their day cycles fell into an average length among inhabited homeworlds. The way they divided their days was a little funny but close enough that many humans had no problem converting to galactic standardized times. Years though, years seemed a little long to him, though he couldn’t remember the conversion rate right at the moment. Still, even if they weren’t too far off of GS time, thirty-seven was quite the number! He hadn’t realized Dana was a senior citizen! “That’s amazing,” Peterias’ voice was excited but respectful. “Do you think she’ll stay on the crew much longer then?” “Uh, yeah, I mean I don’t know what she’s planning, but I’d think so. I mean, why wouldn’t she?” “Well,” Peterias wasn’t completely sure how best to say this without sounding offensive or rude. He’d heard humans could be touchy about their ages later on in life. “Won’t she… won’t she want to retire soon?” Half of Jieun’s face scrunched up to make a funny expression. “Retire? Why would she want to do that?” “Um, well, you know… as most species age, they find this line of work to start becoming… uh, well a bit too demanding on… uh… elderly bodies?” Jieun stared at him without saying anything that Peterias started worrying that he had broken some human taboo about talking about getting old. “Dude. Dana’s turning thirty-seven, not eighty-seven. And even if she was, I still don’t think she’d retire. Have you seen her on duty? That lady loves blasting asteroids.” Jieun chuckled as if recalling a memory as he grabbed a rubber balloon and began forcing air into it through his mouth. As Peterias watched the blue shape grow in size, something Jieun said finally clicked. “Wait, eighty-seven? Do humans live that long?!” Jieun removed the balloon from his lips and tied the end so the air wouldn’t escape. “Well, I mean, with proper diet and exercise, a bit of good luck and good genes, yeah. I mean nowadays, it’s not too crazy to see people living and even being fairly active into their hundreds.” “What?!” Jieun had to be joking. Humans loved playing practical jokes. He kept waiting for his crewmate’s face to break into a wide grin and laugh at his attempt to “pull his leg” as the human saying went. As the tiks went by though, Jieun didn’t back down from his bold statement and instead started blowing up another balloon. “Oh,” Peterias shook his head. “Oh how silly of me. I forgot about the year ratio. Earth must circumnavigate it’s star fairly quickly. There for a bit, I thought you were saying humans could live for over 100 galactic standard years.” Jieun opened his mouth and let the half-filled balloon propel itself around the room wildly. “Uh, yeah, we can. Easily. I think the ratio is like, uh just a little over two-thirds of an Earth year for every galactic standardized year. Something like that? If we’re talking SG years, 130 is around the average life expectancy. 180’s getting up there. I think the oldest living human right now is pushing 195 SG years or something like that.” Shivers ran down Peterias’ whole body. He felt the proto-feathers along his spine rise up. He felt like he was frozen in place as his brain used 100% of its capacity to try to process what he’d just been told. There was no way. He’d have known about this before, right? Of all the rumors that flew around about humans, this would have been one of them, right? He kept waiting for a punchline, for Jieun’s nonchalant facade to drop and for him to start laughing at the hilarious joke he’d been trying to get Peterias to believe. But it didn’t happen. He wasn’t joking. Instead, Jieun held out his hand. “Let me see, I guess that would make Dana....” His fingers went up and down as he calculated, “Oh, a little over sixty I guess. In SG, that is.” He then went to retrieve the balloon he’d let escape before and proceeded to blow it up again, tying it off this time. Peterias just stood there, still frozen. He watched the human continue to put the final touches of decorations around the room. How old was Jieun? He saw human Jackson enter the room, being helped by several other crewmates as they carried in platters of prepared party snacks. How old was he? How old were any of the other human crewmates aboard the ship? How much had they seen and how much life had they lived even before they stepped aboard the ship? He was finally pulled out of his frozen state as everyone scrambled to hiding spots. Realizing he was still standing in the middle of the room, Garubi came up behind him and led him to a spot where he could crouch behind a chair. “Come on, they said part of the celebration is to jump out and surprise the birthday celebrant when they arrive at their party.” Peterias allowed themselves to be pulled along and even made sure to tuck their tail in closely so as to hide better behind the chair. It was futile, he was too large, but thinking on that right now seemed beyond his capabilities. Dana was indeed surprised when she arrived. She screamed, out of shock at first, then in delight. There was a lot of laughter, music, and talking, and a surprising amount of very bad, off-key singing to a very repetitive song. It felt almost like visiting a harvest festival back home, so happy and celebratory! Except unlike the festivals, this was for one person. Before, it might have seemed a bit excessive, even by human standards. Now he realized that with this celebration of life, there was a lot of life to celebrate. The planning and preparation that had gone into the party was well worth the effort. Peterias hadn’t had as much fun in some time. It wasn’t any one particular game they played or amusing story that was told that made it so much fun. It was more just, how happy everyone was. The humans, especially Dana, just seemed to radiate a warm happy energy that was particularly infectious. Peterias smiled as he watched Jackson get animated as he recounted an adventure he’d had as a youth on Earth. It was, of course, a story about him doing something dangerous and how he got out of it, and he had several delighted crewmates hanging onto every word. Peterias, chuckled as a thought came to him while watching the scene. Humans live such long lives. He’d had no idea. He supposed that some, after hearing Jackson’s story and knowing what ridiculous antics humans got into on the regular, might postulate that humans live so long because death itself is hesitant to claim them. As he looked around the room though, he caught eyes with human Dana who smiled that strange warm, and slightly scary way that humans do. She held up her hands together to form a shape that he’d been told was a symbol of love and mouthed the words “thank you” to him. Peterias nodded and smiled back. His mind started wandering again. Somewhere in his brain, the new information of human’s life spans was being put together with other tales and warnings he’d ever heard about them like puzzle pieces. That’s why everyone’s always worried about offending humans. They have such long lives that they could hold grudges for what would be lifetimes for other races. That’s why they’re so good at multitasking or will often come onto crews with multiple advanced skills. They have plenty of time to hone their talents. That’s why they can be so forgetful at times. They have a lot of life stored in their memories. There was a large collection of gasps and laughter from the crowd around Jackson as he finished up his story. Soon, Dana took over as the next storyteller about one of her own fool-hardy enterprises she’d had once. It wasn’t quite as much of an adventurous tale as Jackson’s had been, but it was a good story and she told it well. Peterias smiled as he listened in. He was glad humans lived so long, for a lot of reasons. Maybe those who half-joked when they said that death was afraid to claim humans were right. They certainly were a handful in the realm of life, they’d probably continue to be a handful in the realm beyond. In any case, whatever the reason may be, he was glad he’d have his friends around for a long time.

[dyinglikenarcissus]

One more time

Foxy doesn’t want to get her hopes up and tell Bucky they’re expecting again

Sigma!Bucky x black female omega!reader

So I scribbled this down because I enjoy writing this couple. I proofed it but barely. I’m trapped at work so imma just post it.

Warnings: All my content is 18+ but this is just soft fluff. Mentions of pregnancy loss, angst, fighting, a/b/o content

Please don’t copy or repost my work, thanks! Plagiarism is rude

Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated ☺️

2k word

-Look I’m not even gonna put a divider-

You love Bucky. He’s perfect. Definitely your other half. He makes you so happy and feel so safe and loved. You loved sleeping in his big arms. You especially loved when his metal one would slip under your night shirts and just hold your breasts as he slept like you were his stress ball. You loved walking downstairs to find that he made you both breakfast and coffee to share out on the balcony in the crisp morning air. You loved just sitting quietly with him while reading or scrolling through your phones or watching a movie curled in his lap. You loved this quiet life he built and you loved his giant cabin. And his giant cock. And how he used it to destroy you almost every night. Everything was perfect.

Until you peed on that little pink stick.

It was already hard enough to get a test. Bucky rarely let you go out alone especially now in the dead of winter. The roads were dangerous and he didn’t want you out alone. You could respect that. You didn’t particularly enjoy driving in the snow anyway. So he planned for it. He built you a little green house over the summer so you could grow fruits and vegetables and herbs for meals. He hunted and fished and stocked piled food in a giant freezer. He cut up so much fire wood and built a pile taller than you and almost as wide as the house. He made sure you were both ready to be self sufficient over the winter months.

But you knew he wasn’t ready for this.

The two of you were being anything but safe. You’d been off birth control since you mated, he always finished inside of you. Because you both wanted this. That’s why you were out here in this cabin, still on sabbatical from your job, still paying rent on your little apartment. Bucky constantly told you just to end your lease and quit. He’d take care of you. But you were hesitating on that just like your body was hesitating on this.

You were late. You’ve been perfectly regular since college. You’ve only been late once before and that’s when you were…

Since you knew Bucky would never let you drive to the little corner store alone, you overnighted tests. Lots of tests.

Overnight out here in the rural mountains meant about three to five days and even then someone had to go to the tiny post office and pick up the mail and packages. So when Bucky came home and announced you had a package, you quickly plucked it from his hand and rushed up stairs to hide its contents. You knew he’d ask questions if you stuck around and you might be able to side step him if he had to hold his tongue until later.

You tucked them into your bedside table but pulled out one to take.

But this didn’t mean anything, right? It could be a false positive. You’ll take another one next week. And spend another week avoiding your mate which was extremely hard in one house. Given it was a very large house but there were only so many places to hide and…

Shit.

Same results.

So you made a doctor’s appointment back in the city and continued to avoid him.

You spent a ridiculous amount of time in your green house. Your little pomegranate tree was going to be beautiful. And your oranges were huge for just a little sapling. You giggle at it as it bows under the weight of its own fruit and tie another stake to it.

“Found you,” Bucky’s voice sounds from the green house door. You instantly tense and glance around for something to keep your hands busy. But then his hands grip your shoulders lightly. “Stop trying to get away. We’re gonna talk.”

“Wha-What do you want to talk about?” He turns you around to face him, piercing you with those blue eyes. He lifts an unamused brow leaving you to flounder under his stare. “Um, I-I’m-uh…I’m just not feeling well and I don’t want you to catch it.” It wasn’t completely a lie. You were getting nauseated and cramping and if you didn’t know better you would’ve thought you were sick.

Bucky’s eyes soften and he lifts a hand to your brow. “If you aren’t feeling well, you should rest,” he advises. “You don’t feel warm...”

“It’s a stomach thing,” you quickly correct.

“I’ll make soup tonight,” he smiles tipping your face up. “I noticed you haven’t been eating as much as normal. Why didn’t you just tell me?” Because eating anymore would definitely result in morning sickness and he’d know immediately.

“It’s good,” you insist. “I just haven’t been feeling well. I made an appointment in the city. Hopefully they’ll figure out what’s wrong.” He sighs and kisses your forehead.

“Go inside and rest,” he commands, bundling you back up for the cold. “I’ll finish up out here.” You nod and follow his instructions. But you don’t notice the glare that follows you back to the house.

He can’t take you to your appointment. He just can’t. He’ll insist on coming in with you and when he sees you’re at the OB/GYN and not at primary care, he’s going to know.

You whimper softly at the prospect of confronting Bucky. You couldn’t lie to him. He’d just scent you and smell the deceit.

You got dressed and ready to go before emerging downstairs with your nerves tensed for a fight.

Bucky took one glance at you and a frown marred his beautiful face. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Um, my doctor’s appointment,” you whisper.

“That’s today? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I can go by myself.”

“Oh no. Half the roads aren’t plowed. There’s no way I’m letting you drive in that alone. Give me five minutes to change. Stay right there.”

You’ve never disobeyed your mate. You couldn’t. But he couldn’t come to this appointment. You break into a sweat thinking about how it was now or never.

He’s going to be so mad. But you can sooth his wrath, right? He can’t stay angry forever, right?

You grab the keys to his truck and dash out the door.

You return home with about a hundred missed calls and text messages and even more fear at your future. The doctor confirmed it. Gave you an ultrasound and everything. You got to hear its little heart fluttering and see the little bean forming in your womb. You did blood work but he said right now everything seemed normal. But he took in your apprehension. He started you on prenatal vitamins and a special diet and set up weekly appointments just to keep an eye on the progress and give you peace of mind.

But you can never do that again. You could feel your mate’s anger radiating out of the house as soon as you stepped out of the car.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Bucky shouted as soon as you entered the home. Your eyes widened at the large male, now firmly in your face. “I was so worried. You could’ve gotten in an accident! I could’ve lost you, too,” his voice chokes off at the words before letting out a huff of irritation. You can only watch in fear as he paces in front of you.

“Bucky, I-“

He holds up a hand to stop you and your mouth clicks shut.

“Did I do something wrong?” His voice is quiet and he refuses to look at you. You know if he were with an alpha, this conversion would never happen. He’d lock you in a room and throw away the key until he felt like talking. But your Bucky, your mate, your sigma, was giving you a chance to explain yourself.

But you just couldn’t put what your were going through into words.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you whisper.

“Is there someone else?” You start to speak but he stops you. “I can’t scent anyone on you but you’re lying to me and keeping secrets and avoiding me! I just,” he lets out a harsh growl before stepping back up to you. “Who is it? What do they do that I can’t?”

“No. No, Bucky there’s nobody else. Just you.”

“Stop lying!” He uses your actual name. He’s never called you by your actual name. It makes something in you break and tears fall from your eyes.

“There’s no one but you. Please, Bucky. I can’t-I can’t tell you right now. I have to figure it out for myself.”

“I’m your mate. We can deal with whatever you’re going through together. Please, let me back in,” he whispers holding your face. You can’t do this. You can’t keep lying to him.

But you’re having too hard a time accepting the facts.

“I can’t, Bucky. Not yet.” He snarls at you. Actually snarls at you and you step back slightly, cowering in submission. He lets out a soft grunt and you can tell he’s watching you even if you can’t make eye contact with him. He snatches the truck keys from the hook you just placed them on and trudges outside leaving you in stunned silence.

He left. Just like that. You’ve fought and argued before but he’s never left. You drop to your knees as a sob wracks your body. “No, no, no, no, no,” you cry. This was destroying you. Both of you. You had to figure this out now. You gather yourself up to rush back out into the snow just to see the tail end of the truck pull out onto the main road.

He didn’t come back for two days. Your car was there but there was no way you’d make it through anything of this winter terrain in your little sedan so you were stuck at home with your feelings. You left hundreds of messages but you could never bring yourself to say what was actually wrong.

Why were you such a fucking mess?

You’d lose another one at this rate and you couldn’t bear that.

As soon as he came back you’d tell him. But he had to come back first. You missed him so much. And he wouldn’t even return your phone calls.

You cry into your strawberries all alone in your little green house. Maybe the salt water will help them grow. Your phone buzzed on the counter and a photo of you and your mate at Universal Studios popped up on the screen.

“Bucky!” You cry answering it.

“It’s Sam actually,” the familiar voice responded.

“Oh,” you tried to keep the disappointment out of your voice but that was impossible. “Is everything okay?”

“Obviously not,” he barks through the phone. “I thought I got rid of him a year ago and now your mate’s back in my guest room and won’t tell me what’s going on.”

You sniffle softly listening to your mate’s best friend’s best friend. “We had a fight,” you explain.

“And he left you out there alone?”

“I have plenty of food and firewood,” you explain.

“That’s not the point. Fucking sigmas,” Sam sighs. “What’s going on?”

“Um I’m-I’m-“

“What the fuck, Sam! Why do you have my phone?”

“Bucky?” You whisper at the new voice on the other end of the line.

“You two need to talk! Fucking talk to her!” Sam insists.

“As soon as she stops lying to me, I’ll talk!” Bucky growls. It sounds like there’s a commotion going on between them.

This has to stop.

You take a deep breath and ball your fist at your side. It was now or never. “Bucky! I’m not lying! I’m pregnant!”

There were twin, “what?”s on the other end of the phone before Bucky finally spoke up. “Foxy, say that again.”

Your lips tug upward at the nickname and you let out a soft sigh. “I’m pregnant.”

“Take this. I gotta go home,” Bucky’s voice comes out in a rush and you hear a soft ‘oof’ from Sam.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Sam’s voice calls. “Wait! Your phone! God, he’s such an idiot. Is that what this was all about?” He was addressing you again.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Things got a little out of hand,” you explain.

“Do me a favor, just tell him next time,” Sam sighs. “Here! Your fucking phone!”

“I’m on my way, foxy,” Bucky voice chimes in. You hear a door slam and an engine start.

“Please, be careful,” you wish.

“I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you smile, really smile for the first time in far too long.

The second he walks through the door he scoops you into a big hug. “My sweet, sweet girl,” he mutters into your hair.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I-“

“You don’t have to explain it,” Bucky sighs as you slip your arms around his shoulders. “I know. I get it. We’ll be extra careful with this one.” He lifts you to wrap your legs around his hips as you nuzzle your face into his neck.

“I’m so scared,” you whisper.

“I know. But I’m with you. No matter what, I’m with you. Please don’t forget that.” His voice rumbles through you and you feel so comfortable and loved.

“I told you I wasn’t lying,” you smile, stroking the cropped hair at the nape of his neck.

“You were,” he insists. “There is someone else. They’re in your tummy.”

“Bucky,” you giggle, pinching his shoulder.

“Let’s go lay down. Couldn’t sleep without you, fox,” Bucky admits, carrying you upstairs. You cling to him a little tighter. You love Bucky. He keeps you safe. He loves you. He is your happiness.