#but now the wind is kinda sucked out of my sails

[bruh-changbin]

think pink

pairing: pink power ranger!hyunjin x afab reader

genre: smut, stupidity (minors dni)

warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), public sex kinda?, unprotected sex (be safe), creampie, tit sucking, alcohol consumption, very brief mention of female masturbation

word count: 8.2K

a/n: IM AT A CONCERT DRESSED AS SLUTTY LIGHTNING MCQUEEN RN WOOHOOOOOOO (this is a queued post). happy horny halloween mofos! very glad to be posting this fc bc i was supposed to post it last year and then just gave up LMAO so she's been a long time comin. pls give her some love i would really appreciate it!!! hope you all have/had a super safe sexy halloween!

october is overrated.

i mean sure, there is something undeniably cozy and heart-warming about crunchy leaves and pumpkin patches and all of the other shit that comes in the ‘fall aesthetic’ package. but the truth is that october is too windy, halloween is overhyped, and pumpkin spice tastes like ass.

and who wants to go to a halloween party where you can’t dress like a slut because of the wind chill? no one.

“you’re too negative.” jeongin sips his starbucks while keeping his eyes trained on the road, his left hand gripping the steering wheel of his beat up silver volkswagen jetta that he calls his baby, his pride and joy.

“i’m just telling it like it is,” you shift in the passenger seat to face him, “there is no need for so much hype around a mediocre holiday. what’s there to enjoy about getting violently drunk and stuffing your face with so much candy you feel sick?”

“listen y/n, i don’t know what your problem is but halloween is fun.” he appears to stop there, but then keeps going, “and i will not have your sour attitude ruin my favourite holiday.”

you just scoff and gaze out the window at all of the trees now bursting with shades of red, orange, yellow. 

as if sensing something was off from your previous conversation, jeongin breaks the silence “you’re still coming to jackson’s party though, right? i don’t wanna go alone…”

“you won’t be alone,” you counter, “seungmin will be there.”

jeongin groans, “but seungmin’s so boring at parties. all he does is complain about how bad alcohol tastes and try to talk to people about books and films. i don’t trust a bitch that says films instead of movies! they always think they’re better than everyone.”

“that’s not true, seungmin’s fun at parties!” albeit you do admit you’ve only been to one party with seungmin where he went buck wild and were later told that that is very uncharacteristic of him. 

jeongin’s expression turns sour, and you start to take pity on him.

“innie, i promised you i’d go to this party. when have i ever broken a promise? i’ll be there, alright?”

with that his face softens, and he goes back to his regular chatty self. 

“knowing jackson it’s gonna be even bigger and better than last year. and you know y/n, i’m pretty sure hyunjin’s going as well.”

your heart drops to your stomach at the mention of his name.

you try to act as nonchalant as possible, “why would i care if hyunjin’s there or not?”

“because you’re in love with him.”

“i am not in love with him.”

jeongin scoffs, “please, i see those googly eyes you make every time you see him - scratch that, everytime his name is mentioned. and you sucked his dick.”

“oh so the second you put a guys dick in your mouth you instantaneously fall in love with him?”

“okay fine! maybe you don’t love him but there’s something there, no denying it,” he pauses, and then adds, “and i for one think it’s something worth pursuing.”

leaning your face against the passenger side window, you sigh contemplatively, “that ship has sailed, my friend. at this point hyunjin probably doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“i don’t know y/n, he still seems a little…. hung up on you,” jeongin attempts to reason with you, “why don’t you try talking to him?”

“what the fuck would i even say to him? hey hyunjin, everytime i think of you i get really really wet. could you please bend me over the nearest hard surface and fuck me so hard i can’t walk for a week???!!!!”

“so vulgar and for what.”

you roll your eyes, “shut up jeongin. if you want me to get with him so badly, maybe… i don’t know, help?” 

“no way. you two are adults, you can sort it out yourself.”

“gee, what would i do without you and your incessant outpour of advice jeongin?” you tease, since jeongin is inherently quite awful at offering meaningful advice. 

“i give good advice!!! you just never take it,” your best friend scowls as he drives through campus, pulling into a parking lot located in the midst of all of your school's buildings. 

“sure innie, whatever makes you feel better,” you grab your tote bag off of the floor of the passenger seat and step out of jeongin’s car. as soon as you’re outside a brisk gust of wind engulfs you, the chill making its way through your sweater and making you shudder; you should’ve worn a thicker jacket.

jeongin does the same as you, slamming the driver door shut before grabbing his own stuff from the backseat.

“i’ll see you in a couple hours, kay? text me when your class is done,” he states before heading off towards to library, his broad shoulders protected from the frigid fall weather with a thick wool sweater and a puffy black scarf. the heels of his boots scuff the pavement as he trudges away, pulling out his headphones as he prepares for a couple hours of studying.

you make out in the opposite direction of your friend, heading towards the building where your lecture hall is located. all around you students are dressed in jackets and thick sweaters, scarves donning their necks and leg warmers wrapped around their ankles. the grey sky makes everything appear dull, spare for the bright coloured leaves that have been blown off the trees and crunch under the weight of your boots when you step on them. 

soon you make it to your lecture hall, revelling in the warmth of being inside as you slowly close the doors behind you and making your way over to your (un)official seat. ever since the amount of people attending lecture every week started to decrease, you staked your claim on a seat in your favourite section of the room and refuse to sit elsewhere.

after a couple minutes of waiting your prof begins class, delving into lecture without a hitch as you attempt to scribble down notes. however, just as you’re about to get into the meat of today's class, your focus is broken when a late-comer yanks open the doors to the room with full force.

in walks hwang hyunjin, and a small part of you dies inside. 

as the metal door swings shut behind him with a dramatic bang! you lock eyes with him just for a second before his gaze is averted to your professor who he gives a small, apologetic smile to. 

in your head you’re screaming don’t you fucking dare hwang hyunjin as he walks closer and closer and closer to where you’re sitting in the sparsely populated lecture hall. you roll your eyes so hard your head hurts when hyunjin chooses the seat almost directly in front of you (just a little off to the side so it looks like it was a total accident - fuck you hwang).

of course you knew that hyunjin was in this class as well, but he’s usually on time and usually sits far away from you, at the back of the lecture hall. today he just feels like being an asshole, i guess. 

hyunjin’s weird. he’s weird because he had the hots for you during the sweltering summer months, when jeongin rented a beachside airbnb for a week and invited all of his close friends - including you and hyunjin. he’s weird because he always applied sunscreen on your back and helped you cut up watermelon and sat beside you during bonfires. he’s weird because when everyone else left to go to the pier he encouraged you to stay back and yanked on your hair while you sucked his dick, bit your bottom lip with his front teeth, and fucked you so hard you saw stars. 

he’s weird because he now pretends that the two of you have no history and fucks with you on purpose by shooting you flirty looks when he sees you at get togethers or on campus but does nothing more than that. he knows that you think about him, but does he think about you too?

staring at the back of his ebony-haired head, you can’t shake the image of hyunjin on top of you, his puffy bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he fucked you into his mattress, out of your head. the needy whines and groans he emitted when his cock was down your throat are ringing in your ears; you cross your legs under your desk in a pathetic attempt to ease the ache you feel in your cunt that you hate yourself for. come on brain, we cannot be horny during lecture! focus!!!

the next few hours drag on and on and on as you force yourself to keep your vision trained on either your notebook or your prof, resisting the urge to allow yourself to gaze upon the man who occupies your thoughts almost 24/7 (which is so not feminist of you btw). 

ergo, when your prof finishes lecture 20 minutes early, you heave a sigh of relief. great, now you can gtfo and go finger yourself in the bathroom before getting jeongin to drive you home. but of course, a certain someone decides to ruin your plans by turning around and leaning against your desk, his dark chocolate eyes staring down at you mischievously. 

“are you coming to jackson’s party?”

is he talking to you? 

“are you talking to me?”

hyunjin looks around while the few other students surrounding the two of you scramble to pack their bags, “i mean, who else would i be talking to.”

“i don’t know,” you shrug, “anyone but me i guess.”

god this is so awkward. gag me with a spoon.

“you didn’t answer my question.”

“hmm?” you pretend to busy yourself with the task of shoving your pencil case into your near empty school bag.

“jackson’s party? you coming? jeongin said you were.”

of course he fucking did. because jeongin just loves stirring the pot.

“oh, uh yeah. i’ll be there.”

“what are you going to dress up as?” hyunjin clearly does not see how much you want to end this conversation - or maybe he does, and he just likes seeing you squirm. bitch.

“i don’t know yet.”

“the party’s tomorrow… and you still don’t know what you’re gonna be?”

“nope.”

“oh.”

hyunjin’s lips curl into a subtle smirk and you know he’s just dying for you to ask him the same thing, so you do.

“what are you dressing up as, hwang?”

his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he swings his backpack over one shoulder, “i guess you’ll just have to find out.”

and with that, he leaves you alone in the lecture hall with your professor, your half-packed bag, and your soaked panties.

.･:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:･˙

back in jeongin’s jetta as he gives you a ride home, you complain about hyunjin.

“he’s fucking with me on purpose, i just know it. god! he’s such a…. just like a little…. WEASEL! he’s a fucking weasel.”

“come on y/n, he’s not that bad,” jeongin sticks up for hyunjin, who is also his friend, mind you.

all you do is wave him off, “you don’t know how it feels to be played by a man that beautiful, innie.” 

jeongin throws in the towel, and the two of you drive along the paved roads of your town in silence. as you continue to move along you soon find 

“that forest still gives me the creeps.”

”come on, you seriously still don’t believe in all of that ‘lost john’ bullshit, do you?”

lost john’s forest is somewhat of a fable in your town; folklore, if you will. for ages people have been passing around this story about how a tourist named john who was exploring the town wandered into that forest one day to never be seen again. there are some variations, of course. some people say that they’ve seen john out and about, or that john was actually a cult leader and if you go into the woods you’re bound to get sacrificed. no one knows if john actually ever existed, or if the story is just all horseshit used as a cautionary tale to keep kids out of the forest at night.

doesn’t make it any less creepy though.

you huff as you stare at the endless sea of trees you’re driving past, “it’s not that i actually believe in it, it’s just that those stories come from somewhere, you know?”

jeongin doesn’t seem to understand the point you’re trying to get across, “...so?”

“so there’s gotta be at least some truth to them, right? or else where did they come from?”

“i don’t know y/n, i think it’s all made up to scare kids.” 

the two of you sit in silence for a moment as you pass the last stretch of lost john’s forest before being surrounded by houses, apartment complexes and coffee shops once again. 

“hey, do you know what costume hyunjin’s wearing to the party?” 

as soon as the question passes your lips you regret it, and your regret increases tenfold when a devilish smirk makes its way onto jeongins face.

“oh! i thought you’d gotten over hyunjin, but here you are asking what he’s dressing up as for halloween. interesting!” 

“oh my god jeongin shut the fuck up!! it’s not like that, he was just being a twat when i asked him about it in lecture today,” you huff in annoyance over your friends antics. and for the record you’ve never said that you were over hyunjin, just that you aren’t in love with him. 

“sure y/n, whatever you need to tell yourself,” jeongin laughs, clearly thinking that he’s won this little scuffle, “you need to figure out a costume though.”

“ugh i know.” you scratch your head tentatively, “what are you going as?”

“a banana”

you can’t help the chuckle that escapes your lips. is he for real?

“what’s so funny?” jeongin questions, his brow quirked. 

“really? a fucking banana?”

“what’s wrong with that?”

“it’s a dumb costume, that’s what’s wrong.”

“it’s not dumb y/n, you just have no taste.”

“oh i have plenty of taste - that’s how i can tell your costume is bad.”

“it’s not bad it’s just- why are you being such a bitch right now?”

“did you just call me a bitch??!”

“yes i did because you’re being one!!”

“okay well SORRY for telling you that your costume is STUPID!!!”

“oh yeah? well in that case good luck finding a way to jackson’s party because I’M NOT TAKING YOU ANYMORE!!!”

“FINE!”

“FINE!!”

“FUCK YOU JEONGIN!!”

“FUCK YOU Y/N!!!!!”

in a fit of blind rage you grab your bag and shove you way out of jeongin’s car, a gust of wind ruffling your clothes as he speeds off as soon as you slam the door behind you. he is totally in the wrong here. you were just being a good friend, looking out for him by telling him that he’s setting himself up to look like a total idiot.

a squeal sounds behind you as jeongin floors it away from your house, the smell of burning rubber lingering around where his car was moments ago. what an aquarius you think to yourself as you head into your house, tossing your bag to the floor with a thump as soon as you’re inside. whatever, fuck jeongin! you’ll show him that you can have fun without him.

.･:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:･˙

“okay, what about this one?”

seungmin is in your bedroom for the first time ever. 

which is weird, since the two of you have been friends for some time now. but hey, he’s here now eating chocolate covered pretzels while perched on the corner of your bed helping you pick out a costume for jackson’s halloween party.

“it’s cute.”

“... just cute? anything else?”

“i don’t know, you look… nice?”

you heave a sigh of frustration, “you know seungmin you really suck at this.”

he raises his hands in defence, “sorry! i’ve never done this before, you’re my only female friend.”

“yea yea whatever,” you command him to stop speaking with a wave of your hand, eyes flitting back and forth between the two costume options you’ve spread out on your floor and the one currently donning your body.

“so the final contenders are olive from easy a, slutty michael myers, and…” you look down at your legs, which are clad in the same black latex stockings you wore for halloween last year, “a sexy nun.”

seungmin shakes his head, “don’t do the last one, that’s blasphemous.”

“okay… sexy nun is out. i’m thinking easy a, you?”

seungmin ponders for a moment, his eyes squinted as he gazes at both the easy a and slutty mike myers costumes splayed across your carpeted floor. 

“i second that, your boobs will look killer in a corset,” he eventually attests before shoving a couple more chocolate covered pretzels in his mouth. 

you playfully smack his shoulder, “see min! you are good at choosing outfits.”

he just smirks in response before dusting the pretzel crumbs on his fingers off on his pants. with your arms full of discarded garments you head over to your closet, putting the clothing items of the unchosen costumes back in their place.

“hey can i ask you a question?” seungmin quips from your bed, where he’s now made himself comfortable by lying down and scrolling through twitter. 

“shoot,” you say while hanging up your navy blue jumpsuit.

seungmin pauses his scrolling to ask, “how come you didn’t ask jeongin to help you with this? i mean, not that i don’t like helping you or anything, but you guys are like always together.”

ugh. jeongin. just hearing his name makes you 

“we got into an argument,” you explain, opting to foresee the fact that said argument was over a fucking halloween costume, “he’s being petty, and i don’t want anything to do with him at the moment. and he keeps getting ”

seungmins brows raise momentarily before he responds, “it seems to me that both of you are being petty. also what happened with hyunjin?”

shit. you totally forgot seungmin isn’t caught up on everything that’s gone down. it’s his fault in all honesty, always opting to stay home instead of hanging out. 

“uhhh it’s nothing,” you decide now isn’t the best time to get into everything, “but hey, you’re supposed to be on my side here!”

“i am!!! but why don’t we forget about your drama and watch….. coraline. capisce?”

coraline does sound nice, so you tug on your pyjama pants and join seungmin on your bed to indulge in a fitting movie. 

.･:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:��˙

today is halloween.

today is halloween and you’re dreading it.

seungmin slept over last night and the two of you have been lounging around all day in preparation for tonight, which you are not looking forward to, what with both hyunjin and jeongin being there.

neither you nor jeongin have reached out to the other, both too stupid to be the first one to text the other and apologise. whatever, he’s the one who was up your ass about coming to this party, you’re gonna prove that you don’t have to follow him around like a lost dog at every function.

when it comes time to get ready you blast deftones and the twilight soundtrack (much to seungmins dismay) while painting your face. when it comes time to get into your outfit you recruit seungmin to help, making him stand behind you and yank the ties on your lacy black corset. with each tug you can feel the boning hug your ribs and stomach tighter and tighter before the mere action of breathing is uncomfortable.

it’s just for a couple hours you remind yourself while pulling on your black mini skirt and grabbing a pair of black sunnies from your vanity. the glossy scarlet red ‘a’ that you hand stitched onto the left breast of your corset last night glints in the mirror as you examine yourself, perfectly content with the costume you managed to pull off in less than 24 hours.

“holy shit, how can you breathe in that thing?” seungmin says as he stares at you from the same place on your bed, seemingly taken aback by the resilience of your rib cage.

“it’s for fashion, min! this halloween is all about reprisal, and i wanna look damn good while doing it.”

“okay shakespeare,” he jests before grabbing his costume from where it’s laying on the floor. it takes him a mere minute to throw on his outfit, and you envy him for it.

once you’re finally sure that you’re ready you toss a few tequila shots back in your kitchen as seungmin watches, stating he doesn’t wanna get fucked up tonight (when does he ever) but relents when you ask him to do at least one shot to keep him warm on the walk over to jackson’s.

the bite of the night autumn air has you questioning if you even want to go when you step out onto your porch, the leather jacket you borrowed from seungmin hanging from your shivering shoulders. no, you can’t back down now. with a skip in your step you all but drag seungmin off of your porch, those tequila shots slowly but surely making their way through your system.

by now many of the trick or treaters that lined the streets earlier in the evening have retired to bed, leaving the rest of the holiday to be celebrated by the mature population. so, the roads are mainly empty as you walk down them, the pavement damp and shiny.

when you arrive at jackson’s place you take pity on his neighbours, for the music is so loud it seems as if it might trigger a small earthquake. a few scattered groups of people are on the lawn but most are inside, and you can see the party raging through the front windows. seungmin doesn’t say anything, just shoots you a knowing look before the two of you make your way inside.

immediately upon entering you’re almost ploughed over by a guy in one of those blow up t-rex costumes, who barely spares a look at you before running away and continuing to wreak havoc.

“i don’t think I’m drunk enough for this min, we should just go,” you turn to leave but to your surprise are stopped by seungmin.

“come on y/n, we’re already here. let’s just stay for a bit, ok?” he reasons, and you relent with a dramatic sigh.

out of the corner of your eye you catch of glimpse of someone waving to you; actually, waving to seungmin, motioning him to head over there. you see 3 guys, one in a red power ranger suit, another in a green and yet another in a pink. the puzzle in your brain slowly pieces together as you glance down at seungmins blue power ranger suit.

don’t tell me….

the 3 guys pull off their masks at the same time, and you’re met with the grinning faces of jeongin (red), hyunjin (pink), and their friend jisung (green). and just to add more salt on the wound, a boy name felix whom you’ve meet a handful of times shows up with his friends dressed in a yellow ranger suit. stupid! you should’ve know seungmin was a part of a group costume, who would dress up as a solo power ranger?

“why didn’t you tell me that you were doing a stupid group costume with jeongin and hyunjin!” you sock seungmin in the shoulder.

“i didn’t think it mattered!” he whines while rubbing the spot where you punched him.

“well it does, because now we have to spend the whole night with them,” you whine, although what you said isn’t necessarily true. you’re just salty because seungmin is supposed to be on your side in this whole debacle, and because jeongin decided to change his costume after your quarrel in his car the other day.

much to your dismay, seungmin wraps his bony fingers around your wrist and drags you towards the group of his friends, towards your doom. as soon and jeongin realizes you’re headed this way he departs, running up the stairs like the coward he is.

“seungmin! you made it!” jisung exclaims, clearly already a couple drinks in and clearly unable to sense the tension between you and everyone else.

“haha, yep!” seungmin answers sheepishly as you wrench your wrist free from his grasp. traitor!

you sulk as you listen to felix, seungmin and jisung talk about god knows what, probably video games or baseball or something stupid. it doesn’t help that you can overhear parts of hyunjins conversation with the girl that felix brought. thankfully, you’re blessed with the gift of being able to tune everything out if you so chose, so you stand there in silence and dream about going home.

it isn’t long until you can sense a looming presence beside you, and you snap out of your stupor to see hyunjin standing only a few feet away from you. the way his eyes scan the expanse of your body doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“so,” he starts, arms widespread in a clear gesture to his costume, “what do you think?”

“geez, and people say girls dress like sluts. you know i can see your whole dick print, right?” you taunt,

“nothing you haven’t seen before,” he sneers while his eyes scan the length of your body, hyper focusing on the red ‘a’ sewn into your corset, “what…. what are you?”

how uncultured!

“olive from easy a. you know, emma stone’s character?” you state matter of factly, arms folded across your chest.

“never seen it.”

“really?” you ask, genuinely shocked since hyunjin seems to love fun cult classics. and because he’s friends with seungmin, who's seen about every movie under the sun.

“really,” he reaches over and picks up his drink from where he left it on the counter, “off topic, but a couple people about to play truth or dare in one of the bedrooms upstairs, you should come. or don’t, i don’t care.”

and with that the boy dressed as the pink ranger turns on his heel and walks away, patting whoever was dressed in the yellow ranger costume on the back as a signal to hit the road.

truth or dare? for real? didn’t realise this was a high school party.

you make your way over to seungmin, who’s busy playing with the pop tab attached to the lid of his mikes hard lemonade. it’s clear he doesn’t really plan on talking to anyone else all night, and is only here because you dragged him and he had a duty to fulfil as a result of being part of a group costume.

“they’re about to play truth or dare upstairs min, can you believe that?” you scoff, feeling your cheeks warm up as a result of the alcohol you’ve consumed.

seungmin makes a noise of agreeance, his lip quirking upwards as he responds, “for real? that game is just so…. childish.”

both of you nod before looking at the floor, you drawing small circles with your feet and seungmin playing with his pop tab again.

“but it is kinda fun, you know?” seungmin speaks up first.

“no you’re right,” silence again, and then you add, “should we go join?”

all seungmin does is nod and pass you your drink before the two of you make your way upstairs, opening to the door to a bathroom and accidentally interrupting some kind of fuck session before finding the correct bedroom and slinking inside.

.･:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:･˙

a messy circle of people meets you when you enter, with everyone sitting on the floor or bed or chairs that were definitely stolen from the dining room. there aren't a ton of people, maybe 13 or so, but you seem to know everyone at least to a certain extent.

“nice costume, y/n,” jeongin practically emerges form the shadows to sneer at you, his voice laced with poison.

“thanks jeongin, it is a nice costume. what happened to you going as a banana? did you heed my advice and finally realise it was a stupid idea?”

all he does is scoff at this, choosing not to retort for the sake of looking like the bigger person.

“jeez, you guys are really pissed at each other, huh?” seungmin remarks while grabbing your wrist and dragging you away from jeongin in case you were about to reach up and slap him.

you don’t respond, but the sour look on your face says it all.

“alright guys, let’s get this started!” hyunjin announces to the room full of people, and all of the individual chatter dies down, “the game is truth or dare, as you all know, but we wanted to make it extra frightening for halloween. jeongin?”

jeongin stalks over to hyunjin, and you’re worried for what he has planned.

“if you do not fulfil your truth or dare, you will face a penalty. that penalty is doing a shot,” he takes a breath, “and showing the entire circle the last nude you sent.”

chaos. everyone erupts in anger at jeongin’s sick idea of a punishment.

“come on jeongin, that is so over the top,” one of the other girls in the room, chaeryeong, shouts above everyone else.

all jeongin does is raise his arms in a shrug, clearly loving playing the villain. ugh, you’re so over him.

“rules are rules you guys! we want to make sure people are following through on their dares! or truths, of course.”

he does have a point there, but still, his rules are a bit excessive.

the room quiets down and a few people decide to get up and leave, opting to not take the risk of exposing themselves if they get stuck with a particularly damning truth or dare.

“great, lets get this show on the road then,” jeongin acts as the ringleader and gets everyone settled, “who wants to go first?”

“me! i wanna go!” jeongins friend felix, the yellow ranger, throws his hand in the air.

“ok felix, truth or dare?”

the rest of the party can be heard as the room falls silent to let felix think, allowing him time to ponder since he was the first to volunteer.

“i’ll go dare,” he finally announces, and a chorus of ooooo’s sound as everyone waits to hear what felix has in store for him.

“i dare you,” jeongin ponders, trying to come up with something juicy and exciting, “to give us your best strip tease!”

everyone shrieks and felix hangs his head in embarrassment before standing up, clearly not backing down from the challenge. someone turns on pony by ginuwine and everyone shrieks even louder as felix starts doing his best strip tease, filled with body rolls and thigh grabbing as he peels the top part of his yellow power ranger costume off, exposing his defined abs and smooth back in the process.

after a couple minutes everyone agrees that he’s done enough and he pulls his costume back one before plopping back down in his seat, his cheeks and ears a bright cherry red. nevertheless, a triumphant smile is plastered on his face as everyone cheers for him having successfully completed the first dare.

the game continues without a hitch; chaeryeong confesses that her first wet dream was about hiccup from how to train your dragon, seungmin has to do a blowjob shot from between felix’s legs (you almost thought he was going to accept the penalty), and you find out that the weirdest place jisung has had sex was in a mcdonald’s bathroom.

suddenly jeongin locks eyes with you and you, knowing that he’s probably had one too many drinks at this point, feel a sense of dread settle in the pit of your stomach.

“y/n! your turn, truth or dare.”

you know that whatever you choose it’s gonna be bad, so you opt to bite the bullet and just go for it.

“uhhhhhh ok, dare.”

in that moment it looks as if jeongin has quite literally embodied the devil himself and you know that you’ve chosen wrong. all you can do is brace yourself for whatever dare he’s about to challenge you to - which you’ll have to fulfill for the sake of not looking like a loser.

“i dare you,” he smiles, “to spend 10 minutes exploring lost john’s forest.”

the room goes silent.

no fucking way. does he want you to die???!!

seungmin comes to your rescue, “come on jeongin, that's a little too intense for a game, don’t you think?”

“a dare is a dare! if y/n doesn’t want to do it she’ll just have to face the penalty instead.”

everyone continues to look around the room tentatively, waiting to see what happens next. most gazes are fixed on you, eyes with with worry and excitement, but some stare at jeongin.

“come on, do you guys seriously still believe in all of those bullshit urban legends? that stuff is just for kids, we’re all adults now!” jeongin speaks up and sips his beer as if to further prove his point.

“regardless of if those rumours are true or not, don’t you think it’s unsafe for y/n to be out in a forest this late at night? you know, alone?” this comes from hyunjin, and you’re surprised he’s sticking up for you.

only after hyunjin’s comment do you see jeongin’s tough guy facade start to waver, but he holds his ground, “y/n’s a big girl, she can speak for herself.”

suddenly everyone’s gaze is on you. dear god, why on earth did you come to this party??

“you know what, fine. fiiiine!!!! i’ll do it,” you declare as you stand up, adjusting your skirt that had shifted in place while you were seated. jeongin’s face deadpans, and that alone is enough to give you the courage

“wait, how will we know if she actually goes to lost john’s forest though? what if she just waits outside and then comes back in 10 minutes later?” jisung quips, and you’re tempted to reach out and slap him across the face. bitch.

“that’s a good point,” jeongin pauses to think, “ok fine, someone should go with her to make sur-”

“i’ll go,” hyunjin volunteers before standing up a little too quickly, which is evident in the way he wobbles slightly before catching his balance.

jeongin’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull at this; it’s clear he wants you to have the worst night ever, meaning being alone in a forest with a guy you have the hots for is strictly off the table “wait no, someone else should go.”

“why? i’m fully capable of escorting y/n to and from lost john’s to make sure nothing bad happens. besides, does anyone else want to volunteer as an escort?” hyunjin retorts before waiting expectantly.

the circle of people sit there, unmoving. after a few seconds seungmin slowly moves to raise his hand but a dirty scowl from hyunjin makes him freeze.

“right then, it’s settled. let’s go y/n” he states while grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the door of the bedroom you’re in.

you look back at jeongin over your shoulder, who clearly isn’t pleased. all you do is shoot him a cheeky half smile before following hyunjin out the room, down the stairs and into the night.

.･:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:･

standing at the edge of lost johns forest, you think you might pass out.

but you neglect to tell hyunjin that.

“you ready?” he asks while shooting you a comforting look, his words have no trace of teasing or mockery.

you look at the vast expanse of trees in front you. it looks as if it stretches on forever and ever, and you gulp as you think of all the possible things that could be inside, waiting for you and hyunjin to enter before striking.

that being said, you’d rather do this with him than do it alone.

“let’s just get this over with. the sooner we’re done here the sooner we’ll get back and I can strangle jeongin.”

hyunjin laughs before offering you his hand, which you take and pray that he doesn’t care about how shaky you are.

making sure to take note of the time on your phone you head into the forest, feeling twigs and leaves snap and crunch under your feet. the exposed skin on your legs stings as a cold gust of wind blows, the trees offering minimal protection.

“you know if you ignore all of the creepy stories about this place, it’s actually quite nice. so quiet…” hyunjin aloud.

“if you’re trying to make me feel better, it’s not working.”

a branch snaps, an owl hoots, you exhale shakily. it’s dark, but the scarcity of leaves still attached to their trees allows for just enough moonlight to seep through the spindly branches. soon enough, the two of you stumble upon a small-ish clearing, opting to stay there as opposed to trekking further and getting lost.

“jesus I hate this, how long has it been?” you ask hyunjin while rubbing your arms in an attempt to wake them up.

“it’s been…. 2 minutes.”

that’s it. this is the worst experience of your life. you are actually going to kill jeongin.

“come on y/n, it’s not that bad in here. at least you have me!” hyunjin tries to comfort you, but you can tell that he’s nervous just like you are.

“please, as if you’d be able to protect me from anything,” you tease, but when hyunjin doesn’t bite back you worry that you’ve struck a nerve, “i am glad you’re here with me, though.”

“i would’ve volunteered to go with anyone, honestly.”

“really?”

“...no.”

a small smile creeps it’s way onto your face at this, and not matter how hard you try you can’t wipe it off.

“sooo you volunteered to go with me because…?”

“because i have…… feelings….” he looks at you, and then looks at the ground, “for you….”

the word that comes to mind upon hearing hyunjins confession is satisfying. satisfying because you’ve known that he’s had feelings for you since the summer, he’s just a shithead. so, you feel satisfied.

“and i know it’s probably unfair for me to say this but i can’t stop thinking about you and i know that this is also the absolute worst place to confess but-“

he doesn’t say anything after that.

he doesn’t say anything because you press your pout against his, breathing in his scent as he kisses you back.

no words need to be exchanged as you briefly pull away before going in for more, hyunjins lips your absolute favourite drug that you crave day and night. a groan escapes hyunjins mouth and he moves to wrap his hand around the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in and tugging on your hair as he pushes you yo against a nearby tree.

with your head tilted to the side you weasel your tongue past his slippery teeth and into his mouth, sliding against his own. both of you parrot each others moans of desire as your hands explore the expanse of hyunjins back and shoulders.

you feel so cold when he pulls away from you, like your only source of heat has been ripped away from you eternally. when you pry your eyes open, not before a dissatisfied huff passes your lips, you see hyunjin descending.

it appears as if he sinks to his knees in slo-mo, eyes never leaving yours as he kisses his way from your knee to the inside of your thigh. with deft fingers he reaches under your skirt and hooks the waistband of your panties around his fingers before dragging them down your legs and tossing them to the side, soon to be forgotten.

“hyunjin,” you breathe, voice already shaky as you anticipate what’s to come (you). he doesn’t say anything, just grabs your right calf and swings your leg over his shoulder, his face now a mere few inches away from your pussy. it feels as if you’re on display for his eyes only, forced to watch as he sucks and nips at your thighs while leaving dark bruises and bite marks in his wake. slowly be surely he inches closer to the place where you want- no, need him most.

when the tip of his wet, pink tongue drags through your cunt your breath catches in your throat. he continues to offer only feeble kitten licks, and soon enough it has you craving more and more, his actions not enough to fulfil the growing desire you can feel boiling inside of you.

with outstretched fingers you reach out and grip a fistful of his raven hair, pulling on it and all but shoving his face impossibly closer to your wet, hot pussy. the tip of his nose nudges your clit, and the one leg that you’re balanced on almost buckles.

“you taste so good, honey,” hyunjin confesses while lazily dragging his fat tongue through your pussy, “sweet like candy.”

“ ‘s just for you, hyun,” your heads rolls back between your shoulders, resting on the tree behind you. for the moment you elect to forget where you are, focusing on the cute boy between your legs instead of the darkness of the surrounding forest that threatens to swallow you whole.

hyunjin cycles between sucking at your clit and teasing your hole with his tongue, a combo which, although has you seeing stars, is not enough to bring you to release.

“more, jinnie,” you plea, the pet name rumbling past your lips before you can catch yourself.

“you need more, baby?” hyunjin coos while gazing up at you, his eyes foggy and plump lips swollen and glossy. the hand of his that’s been laying dormant on your thigh moves to cup your pussy, groping you before he slides his index and middle fingers through your folds.

in one deft movement he slips his digits inside of you, his tongue poking and flicking your clit at the same time. your needy whines grow louder and echo around you, the goosebumps on your skin now from arousal and not from the cold.

hyunjin continues to finger you at a relaxed pace, his mouth traversing between stimulating your aching clit and nipping at the sensitive skin of your upper thigh. his eyes never leave yours however, and you feel as if you might slip and fall into his gaze, unable to escape.

“one more?” god you sound pathetic, but you don’t care at this point, “please?”

wordlessly, hyunjin slips his ring finger into your cunt. the stretch is subtle but has you yearning for your sweet release. the grip you have on his hair tightens, and you rock your hips against his face to help bring yourself closer and closer to your orgasm. the moans that leave his mouth in response to you tugging on the roots of his hair vibrate through your core, leaving you a stuttering, whiny mess above him.

“jinnie, I think i’m gonna-“ a desperate moan escapes you when hyunjin wraps his lips around your sensitive bud once more, sucking in tandem with the thrusts of his fingers.

over the volume of your own moans and the howl of the wind you can hear the squelching of your wet pussy as hyunjin finger bangs you until you cum all over his hand, his palm and chin sticky with your juices.

your heart drums in your chest as you slowly come back to earth, the warm body between your legs now gone and standing in front of you.

hyunjin looks as if he wants to eat you, swallow you whole, with hair a mess and cheeks splotchy and pink. through his costume you can see he’s hard, his cock begging to be released from the fabric prison it’s confined to.

he kisses you again and you can taste yourself on his tongue, fighting off any embarrassment you feel with the justification that getting your pussy devoured by him felt so fucking good.

your tongue slots against hyunjins inside of his mouth, and you feel him move to push his pants and briefs down to allow his cock to spring free. his sticky warmth mouth is pulled from yours and you watch as he pumps his dick several times to get himself fully hard.

his cock is long and veiny with a slight curve that has you practically drooling all over his feet. of course you’ve seen it before, but it’s been so long and you’ve thought about it so much.

his tip is a dark shade of pink as he moves to drag it through your cunt, allowing it to kiss your still sensitive clit which sends a jolt through your body. not wanting to waste any time, hyunjin wraps the same leg that was sling over his should a few moments ago around his waist. with one hand grubbing your thigh and the other gripping the base of his cock, he slowly sinks into you, allow you to feel every inch of his aching shaft.

“oh god, hyunjin,” you cry, feeling so full after months and months of feeling so empty. hyunjin breathes through his nostrils, attempting to control himself as he bottoms out in your tight hot pussy.

the bark of the tree that you’re pinned up against scratches and digs at the skin of your shoulders and upper back but you’re too drunk on hyunjin to care. all you care about is his cock that’s fucking into you, his tongue that’s tracing your jawline, his curious hand that reaches into your corset and pulls out your breasts.

his mouth makes its way from your neck down to your chest, where he deftly takes your left nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before giving the same treatment to the other.

your legs cramp as you spread them apart as far as possible given your current position, doing your best to accommodate hyunjins dancer hips. his hips that move so fluidly against you, rolling upwards and grinding against your cunt with each thrust.

every time hyunjins tongue rolls across your tit you can feel it in your core contributing to the small fire that’s growing with every move he makes. one of your hands finds purchase in his hair again and the other finding stability by gripping his shoulder,

“jinnie, hngh-“ you stutter and whine embarrassingly, thankful for the fact that there’s no one around to hear how desperate you are. hyunjins pace picks up and he pumps his cock into you faster, harder, deeper. your limbs turn to jelly as he fucks you with no restraint.

“fuck y/n, I’m so close,” is all he can pant after pulling himself off of your tits, the hair at the base of his neck damp with sweat despite how cold it is outside. the walls of your pussy flutter around his cock as you’re on the brink of your orgasm, waiting to feel your release wash over you.

it only takes a few more thrusts to send you spiralling, creaming all over hyunjins cock as he finishes inside of you. his cum feels hot and heavy inside of you and it warms you to the core on this cold fall night.

the heat you feel in your cunt slowly begins to wane, and you whimper when hyunjin pulls his now soft cock from your hole that’s dripping with his cum; some of it sticks to your thighs.

with a chaste kiss to your lips hyunjin pulls away, fixing himself up before helping you adjust your corset and reaching down to grab your phone that had fallen to the forest floor.

the blue screen almost blinds you when you turn it on, and you’re met with several missed texts from jeongin.

[12:55] jeongin: okay y/n it’s been like 15 minutes you guys can come back now

[1:03] jeongin: seriously y/n it’s been a while, people are starting to worry

[1:04] jeongin: not me of course, but other peopl

[1:16] jeongin: ok y/n this isn’t funny anymore, i get that you’re pissed at me but seriously you guys need to come back

[1:19] jeongin: unless…. the lost john legends are true

[1:19] jeongin: oh god

“this shithead,” you mutter, opting to leave him on read for now

you glance at hyunjin, who’s standing there awkwardly, looking at the moon through the branches of the trees.

“do you wanna come back to my place? i don’t really feel like going back to the party,” he says in a way that seems like he’s bracing himself for you to say no, “we can watch easy a? you know, since i’ve never seen it.”

you stretch out your hand, encouraging him to take it.

“yea, I’d like that,” you say before the two of you make your way out of the forest before strolling down the street under the yellow glow of the moon

.･:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:･

a/n: apologies if the smut seems rushed I wrote it on a bus lol

[synintheraven]

Okay let's clear some things out; 1) I don't write smut bc I suck at it 2) this is part of a bigger story where the main character/reader gets to know Sihtric throughout several situations, so this is perfect if you want to read about Sihtric & reader's little made-up adventures but not so much if you're only here to read naughty stuff 😅 3) I have no idea what I'm doing :p

pic credits to myself, feel free to use them too/ask for originals (:

✵pairing: sihtric kjartansson x fem!reader

✵summary/small introduction: reader (she/her) is a Norse, Sihtric is a (actual, as in born there) Dane. Sihtric & reader meet each other for the very first time, but I kept it simple and kinda short so you'll have to keep on reading to find out how this goes (; [Side note: Yggr is one of my ocs and the Jarl/Chief of the group, but will not be a current character other than to accompany/give orders to Sihtric and reader]

✵tw: mentions of violence

✵word count: 1,5k

characters info | part two

We were near; the tall cliffs once casting shadows over the sea were far behind us and the fog was getting thicker over the marshes. East Anglia was a land of fishermen huts, distant trees and bad weather: yet somewhere in this muddy land, a band of fiery fighters were hiding and getting ready to fight for their lord.

I recognized the stranded ship half covered in sand, which Yggr had described to me, surrounded by muddy rocks and a small spot of land untouched by the sea waters. Near the rocks, among tall reeds, the camp was set and a handful of men were sat around the bonfire in an attempt to fight the cold wind.

Except for one man.

A tall, dark haired man, covered in a fur cloak; his left hand was resting over the hilt of his sword as he stood near the coast, staring cautiously at our ship as if he was trying to tell who we were. But, as we approached the small island and the fog revealed Yggr’s wild hair, the mysterious man prepared to greet us.

The sail was taken down and the crew started to row against the current, sliding through the rather calm waves to take the ship towards the land. It didn’t take long for the prow to reach the sand and before we were fully beached, Yggr jumped off our ship to meet with the dark haired stranger.

He had a concerned expression and his hand remained over the hilt of his sword, ready to fight should the need arise. Yet, unlike him, Yggr was quick to smile and open his arms, embracing the now smirking Dane like a brother.

The man was Sihtric Kjartansson, a warrior that served the long haired blonde, though he treated him like a big stupid brother rather than as his lord and jarl. Both Danes had grew up together, sticking to each other as their parents seemed to care little next to nothing for the young boys, making it no surprise the concerned stranger was in command during the jarl’s absence.

I didn’t know much about him back then, only that he was a fine warrior and a loyal man; but I had also been told he was rather friendly and welcoming, yet Sihtric looked at me with wary eyes. I stared back at him, almost trying to decipher what was going on inside his mind: studying his gaze, the storm brewing inside his blue eye and the dancing flames around the pupil of his brown eye.

He had the face of a warrior, with scars running down from his forehead and marking the flesh over his deep cheekbones, making me wonder if he was hiding any other under the strands of hair over his temple or under the scarce beard around his rather full lips.

I had jumped on the wet sand of the island shortly after Yggr, however being the only woman among all those men, suddenly the warriors resting around the fire seemed eager to welcome our crew. Everyone but Sihtric, who embraced his lord for a while but pushed him away as his men came along with curious looks.

Unfortunately for everyone else, I was not to be touched or harmed: for I was there merely to help build the camp and eventually, should the strings of my destiny allow it, find the man that killed my family.

The first birds of the day were singing their songs and the sun was setting, the land slowly revealing itself from the fog. It was a cold morning and it got worse as we had to get our feet wet in order to cross from shore to shore, but we were to stay unnoticed and therefore not to use our ship.

We were scouting the surrounding area, following the shore in hopes to find a bigger place to set a new camp. I was walking beside Yggr, with Sihtric a few paces before us to guide our way around; the rest of our group were either guarding our current camp or exploring other areas, though all of us were after the same goal.

The best hiding spots were among reeds, trees and muddy rocks, but those often surrounded water and the rising tides could be treacherous.

We saw stone ruins, abandoned churches and half burnt farms, all a consequence of folk escaping their homes in order to keep their lives, to escape the horrors brought by the monsters from across the sea.

Danes like us were plundering all of Britain; they came with the promise of riches and vengeance but stayed to become kings and killed anyone who opposed them. They had come here to do what that mad man had done to my family, my people.

 I trusted Yggr’s words when he said he didn’t care about a title. He lost his chance to be king and decided to embrace a simple life, only hoping to find a nice place to thrive and stay unbothered by Saxons. Or so it was until the Great Heathen Army decided to terrorize the country, turning our heads into targets for anyone who caught us, Danes and Norse alike, wandering around.

We had stopped, suddenly. We were standing atop a small hill that went deeper in land, hoping to get a better view; the wind was blowing hard and the sun shone upon the land, easily revealing all areas of the territory.

Yggr remained silent, his mind lost somewhere in the dark blue waters from the ocean as the cold wind blew on his hair and beard. Sihtric stood next to me, his eyes narrowed because of the sun while he pointed his finger towards the tall roman ruins to the north.

—That looks like a good spot. —He said to Yggr then quickly looked my way, noticing I was the only one truly listening to him. It was, probably, the very first time he wasn’t eyeing me as if expecting me to take a knife to their throats. —I saw it before, but rain soaked the mud. It will take some work to stop that from happening again.

He had a very calming voice and explained all the work that had to be done for that old ruin to be a proper camp, though in truth all I could think about was the scars on his face: suggesting the man had been in many battles, despite being only a few winters older than Halfdan’s son.

—You two can go. —The blonde man interrupted, resting a hand on mine and Sihtric’s shoulder. —Find some horses and secure the camp, I’ll go find the men and meet you there with the ship.

—Just the two of us? —Sihtric sighed, despite trying to hide his discomfort. —What if the place has been taken? I can’t fight them with, no offense, a woman. —He glanced at me for a split second then stared back at Yggr, hoping to be released of my company.

—I am Norse. And my father raised a warrior, not a weak girl that needs some Dane’s protection. —I snarled back, watching as my words damaged his pride and brought a wide smile to our Jarl.

The only horses we could find belonged to a group of Danes camping in Theotford, a small town with thatched roofs and a run-down church that once sheltered Saxons.

There was about twenty of them, maybe more, standing watch in every corner and every small gap they could find.

—I am not “some Dane”, I’m a warrior too. —He finally added, remembering our earlier conversation.

—You’re the son of Kjartan, right? —I let out and he gave me a grim look then proceeded to avoid my glance, still walking between the tall grasses.

—We’re never going to make it out alive if we try to take one of their horses. There’s too many of them. —And he was right, those were trained warriors and we were merely a pair of lost dogs to them. —The ruins are not too far, we should get there before Yggr if we walk in a straight line and avoid following main roads.

And just like that, our short journey through the autumnal forests of East Anglia began. We walked through shrubs, trees, short walls made of stone and saw a few deer, but there was no sight of other people anywhere. We avoided getting too close to farms or church ruins, trying to remain silent whenever our surroundings were suspiciously quiet.

—So tell me, Dane, how did you end up in Norway? —I interrupted, getting a judging stare from him when he caught me walking closely by his side.

—He told you we should get to know each other, right? —He asked dismissively, moving a few steps ahead of me.

—He suggested we should get along if we’re to live together in the same camp, but you’re not as friendly as he promised.

A hint of a smirk showed on his face, though it didn’t last long. —My father sold information to Halfdan and left me in Alrekstad to either die or be raised by the king’s servants. —He admitted after a while, looking troubled as he spoke.

—There are worst destinies than to be raised with Yggr, I suppose. —I said and saw him grinning at my comment, finally showing some sort of emotion in my presence.

—What about you, Stavanger? —He taunted, making it obvious that our fool of a Jarl told him about my homeland and, therefore, my newly acquired nickname.

—That’s my homeland, yes. But I come from the Isle of Ikke, a once thriving city to the north of Stavanger.

—Then what brought you to Alrekstad?

—Vengeance. —I said cheerfully, but he gave me a concerned look in return.

Some bonus fun facts:

✯Yggr is the son of Halfdan, King of Alrekstad (modern Årstad, in Norway). He's not inspired by any TLK character, though he has a similar personality and looks to Ragnar The Younger, with some of Cnut's silly sense of humour. Yggr was to inherit his father's throne, but has no issue embracing a simpler life - even though his former position as a prince and charisma turned him into his Clan's Jarl (basically an english Earl, but a Jarl can also be someone trusted by its people and chosen as a chief).

✯Reader was born in a small island in Norway (Ikke, which is totally made up hehe) but her family was massacred when she was a baby, so she grew up seeking vengeance.

✯Sihtric isn't a bastard but his mother died giving birth to him and so Kjartan despises him/never properly treated him as his son (nor did he to Sven but he grew up to be just as his father and so Kjartan eventually accepted him as his son).

✯As this story is unrelated to what happens in TLK, I had Kjartan vanished from Denmark; though he became wealthy again by playing the pirate in other territories and selling information to kings as Halfdan, Harald Fairhair and few more across the sea...

[ichayalovesyou]

Are you still taking Pike x reader requests? :D

In light of Anson Mount’s let’s say disappointing (to put it lightly) views on the Israel genocide of Palestine situation, no. At least for the time being that has sucked a lot of the joy out of writing the character for me at least for a while. I am fully aware of the difference between a character and an actor and like, I still love captain pike and I still love SNW, but idk. Between that whole situation and having to pirate SNW to avoid giving money to Paramount and by extension Israel. It kinda took the wind out of my sails engaging with that character and the trek series he comes from creatively without grappling with some baggage around that. Which is such a shame because that character and show helped me heal from a lot of trauma during a really rough patch in my life.

So for now no, but maybe I’ll open up shop again in the future once I’ve figured out how to reconcile with all of that.

[archangelmacaron]

more Noe analysis has been requested but I'm thinking on what I want to go feral about. 🤔

Like honestly what I MOST want to yell about is Fanbox, BUT

1) it is definitely not meant to be shared, which I will respect by being vague about specific things I am referring to.

2) you cannot fucking paywall things so most fans will never encounter them and it can't be publicly discussed without violating those terms, and expect it to be treated as canon (which maybe he doesn't, idk). While obviously people respect Word of God, to me if it's not specifically stated in the game as a canon fact, rather than one interpretation of events, I will treat it like any other person's opinion. I don't want to talk about my take on events like what the ending means or potential post canon and get interrupted with "but behind a paywall, he said—" I literally do not care and you should not either ESPECIALLY when their take directly contradicts some things that were expressly canon, like how a certain character who gave up everything for another wouldn't dare commit a crime they had already commited once before like dude seriously. SERIOUSLY?

"Death of the Author" is pretty important and I want to talk about what was actually in the work and how people interpret that, not feel stuck by paywalled opinions expressed after the fact. (I mean if the literal majority of your audience has one read on something, and you have to say 'actually I wanted this to mean x' maybe you really sucked at expressing that? Idk!)

3) frankly getting extremely obvious he is so fucking over Noe and IMO, has been kinda mean spirited about it in an effort to get people to shut up and stop asking because he only cares about working on his new game. Which he basically said directly in the latest that he considers it "shelved."

Which I am sympathetic to to a point! It's clear he worked on this game for a near full decade, and I think scope creep meant it really started to get away from him towards the end and in some areas, it really shows. I know how it feels to tackle a project that gets so overwhelming, but also how frustrating it is where you already released half so you can't go back and "correct' anything you realize now is plot breaking. That can really drag your enthusiasm to an absolute halt!

What I am NOT ok with is acting surprised that people are giving you money because they enjoyed your most popular project and thus want to know more about it, rather than your new COMPLETELY DIFFERENT project that's had like concept art and a few screenshots released. Like sorry dude but the crossover between people who like story and character driven adventure games and those that like daughter waifu sims is extremely small and maybe you should be nicer to the people who will support ALL your projects.

4) The big one. This all combined has made my friends sad. I am not ok with that. I don't see how you can answer a fan's hopeful question about a character's future with a "ok so like I know it's canonically possible but actually here's (my opinion) on why it isn't, so consider that canon-compliant avenue CLOSED :)" I just feel like he is annoyed by how much these characters mean to people. And to me it is heartbreaking to see the wind just pushed out of someone's sails! It would have been so easy to say "it's up to you, I'm done with this story!" you know?

5) I am starting to feel like he "accidentally'd" into all the best parts rather than wrote them with intention, which isn't a fair take. He's probably just ready to move on and happens to be being kind of a dick about it.

And in closing:

6) the lack of enthusiasm is apparent not just in fanbox, but in the total silence in terms of the complete pack or promotions beyond occasionally rting a sale post. This concerns me and I HOPE I am completely wrong, and there are more things behind the scenes going on like fanbook vol 2, the light novel continuation, etc. but I feel like there isn't despite a worldwide release being prime time to push things like merch. The manga hiatus isn't on him, but the fact that even the most hardcore fans didn't even know a chapter was released in Feb says something!!!

Ok i am done lol. Hopefully no one is offended (not like he'll ever see this!) but it was just a good time to vent.

[doubleddenden]

I decided to do another "What if Ash went to fan game regions" AU, this time in the Esoteria region of Realidea System

Idk, doing these is fun and gives me an excuse to revisit old fan games i haven't played in a while. if you have more fan game suggestions you'd like to see me either play or make an Ash team out of, let me know.

Anyway, I made this Ash sprite by splicing and editing from various official Pokemon sprites from gen 4 and 5, while the pokemon sprites were dug up from the game files. I did not create the fakemon here, so show some love to the game and play it at some point, since it's beautiful and stuff.

some blurb under the cut:

Now unlike some of the other fan games i've played in the past, Realidea System only has a small handful of new fakemon to choose from. With that in mind, I got a little creative with his team this go around, combining some elements of Journeys and his past teams to get this.

My main check lists:

2 new pokemon

1 Pokemon that can technically come from Kanto

1 Pokemon fans kinda wanted him to have (ie me)

1 Pokemon with a type clash (this happens more often than you think, later seasons being way more obvious with it)

and then I threw in Garchomp because I thought it'd be a nice callback to when his Phanpy from Johto went on his Battle Frontier and actually got to evolve, and Aipom from Battle Frontier to Sinnoh for similar reasons. And technically comes from Kanto if we consider that Gible lives in Oak's ranch.

the type clash hurts my soul a lot, but it makes sense for him.

I imagine Ash winds up in the Esoteria region after meeting Will, the Psychic Type Elite 4 member of Kanto/Johto, who invites Ash to come with him to the region- Will makes an appearance in the game, so it makes some sense to happen after time passes.

From there, I imagine the story plays out pretty similarly to the game, although he probably travels with Elliot and the feMC of the game, taking both under his wing. There may be a few times when Ash calls upon his old Pokemon though, since that's rarer in the newer times, and this game's dex is basically built for that.

Realidea System is pretty hilarious, so I imagine it would work remarkably well with his and Pikachu's tendencies to get into hijinks. The game definitely has issues towards people or pokemon from Kanto though, so I imagine he's probably experienced some weirdness about that as well, and probably found it weird as hell that he encountered Leon in Giratina's world after being sucked into a garbage can.

Anyway, his team:

Pikachu: same Pikachu as usual, the bestest boy that never leaves his side

Seaghoul (Water/Dark): the water type starter of the region. Seaghoul has always been a bit proud of itself, but also is super supportive of the rest of the crew and tries to uplift them. When he fully evolved, he sort of became the captain of the crew, and Ash, Pikachu, Zoroark, and Garchomp actually somewhat go along with the antics that come with it. Fierce, tenacious, cunning, he fights and never gives in- a problem at times, especially when he doesn't want to swap out. I like to imagine there's a post game arc where they go sailing with the pun pirates and everyone just gets super in character.

Drifblim (Ghost/Fire): Ash caught a Drifloon when he and the gang had to stop a group of them from kidnapping children from a camp one night- then he was surprised to see it evolve into a fire type! Drifblim is kind of oblivious to everything and easily distracted, but he does come in clutch where it counts.

Garchomp: This is the same Gible Ash caught towards the tail end of the Sinnoh series, and he decided to keep Gible around one day when bringing a crew through the PC to visit the new region. Gible evolved rather quickly due to all of his experience gathered off screen, but he's still not used to being in such a big body. Even as a Garchomp, he still bites Ash's head and is a bit silly. Still, he does get some major wins here and there, showing off his power in rare moments where it counts.

Scizor: Caught as a Scyther terrorizing a horde of Rowlett in a forest after being messed with by the evil team of the region, and it had a small rivalry with Ash's Gabite at the time of meeting. After being fixed up, it swore loyalty to Ash and was actually revealed to be calm and serious in fights. When it evolved, it quickly became one of the team's strongest assets that could always be relied upon, although he is still not used to Ash's light hearted nature or the silly antics everyone else gets into.

Zoroark: Ash found and rescued a wounded Zorua in a barn and nursed it back to health over the course of several weeks. After it got better, it sprung back to life and was filled with fun and mischief, and constantly trying to get the others to play with him. Even after evolving, one of his favorite pranks is to transform into other Pokemon or people in the group to mimic them or confuse the others, and over time the gang has gotten used and even embrace seeing an extra version of one of themselves in the group. It's an excellent battler, and Ash makes use of its Illusion ability in battle to trip up opponents.

[ladyofvoss]

Premonition is a bitch

(under the cut because it’s late night sprout grumpy hours)

Been having a couple of off days, especially with the game. Haven’t been feeling it so was doing a replay to try and get that good feeling about it again.

Some days were great (Leviathan questline, Ramuh, Iceheart). Some not so great (couldn’t get into the Bloody Banquet cause shit out of game).

Every time I found myself enjoying my replays something always happened. Too loud, bad internet, some shit.

So I’m running through the Vault. Feeling pretty good. Running off the high of playing through Hilda’s character introduction again (cause she’s always fun).

I’m feeling pretty good. Can’t help but think in the back of my mind that as I get closer to That Scene, something is bound to go wrong. Something contrite is going to happen that’ll completely ruin the game for me. But that can’t be right. It’s the weekend, roommates are asleep so I’m not gonna get disturbed. It’s probably nothing right? Nothing’s gonna go wrong.

I swear, I’m not superstitious, but it’s like the game heard me and said “Bet”.

Cause while I’m watching That Scene, this pivotal moment in the Heavensward story, getting ready to watch this final, heartbreaking interaction between my WoL and this beloved NPC.

And the game. Just. Breaks.

And I don’t mean it crashes. That would have been whatever. I could have re-watched it in the inn.

I mean the graphics have a complete meltdown and glitch to the point where you can’t even see my character. I even got screenshots to show that I’m not crazy. This isn’t Photoshop. I’m not that good.

And just like that, it takes me completely out of the story. Immersion completely destroyed. I’m taken out of the game and the wind is sucked out of my sails.

And something in me just....I didn’t even get mad. It felt more like a puff of air just blowing out a candle flame. Something in my subconscious said. “Yeah, that’s a sign. I’m done”

And before you ask, yes I tried rewatching it at the Inn. Same problem persisted.

I don’t know if I’m just burnt out on the game or if this is just a symptom of a really bad depressive episode but I’ve been feeling such a disconnect to the story and the game as of late. It’s been going on for a while. Weeks at least.

I remember when I used to feel super in love with it. Like I was so hyped as a little baby archer shooting squirrels in Gridania, and getting ready for Operation Archon, but I don’t feel that same feeling of warm fuzzies for the game now, and I don’t know why, and it’s been kinda upsetting.

And I’ve been trying to find a way to get back into it. Changing character appearance, running through NG+, getting into personal character lore. Some days it worked, most days it didn’t, and I think this moment was just it for me.

And please, no jokes about me playing New Game+ over and over. I might actually, literally, cry.

And yes I know, it’s just a game yada yada, but like I said, maybe the disconnect is a symptom of something I gotta take care of, mental health wise. I don’t know.

Again, I’m gonna take this as a sign that it’s time for a break, for real this time. Just close the game and do something else. Watch Star Wars or catch up on Fairy Tail or something.

[webslingingslasher]

What? What? I must've scrolled too fast cause I missed it that someone got hit with a car; geez, lucky that wasn't fatal but still, broken bones and everything that entails is awful. I hope they catch that driver. People have a job to do behind that wheel and that is pay attention to the 4000 pound vehicle for which they're responsible. Just awful.

Re: Sister. Of course sister knows how to say things that hurt. Who else has known you as long as family? Doesn't make it right, tho. Sister sure does sound like someone who is deep down AFRAID that maybe, just maybe YOU got the good genes PLUS the nice T&A and is trying to sow doubt by making you feel AFRAID too (that you are somehow less than). Now, you could go all loud and proud with that, but honestly that doesn't help reach a better place for either of you and your future relationship together. Setting aside whatever the rando disagreement was (because I imagine her comment derailed that train), there is the somewhat peaceful strategy of (bear with me), agreeing with her: "yeah, we're pretty lucky we've got good genetic material to start with don't we?" ---Not going to lie. That kind of comment really takes some bravery on your part because you're exposing yourself a little. But, no pressure, no diamonds and girl you're a diamond!---But when you say something like that to your sis, it kinda sucks the wind out of her sails because you aren't saying that you DON'T have other worthy attributes nor are you going for the jugular with respect to hers (or lack thereof). It comes with a caveat though: for some families, there is just some non-negotiable stuff for which they cannot be forgiven and for those people mixed up with that, you have all of my sympathy. It just sucks. Best wishes to you all and to @webslingingslasher I await your chapter with much gleeful anticipation. Love ya bestie! (the long-winded mothering hen)

when mother speaks...... you listen.

words of wisdom. owl energy fr

[dzpenumbra]

3/17/23

I was having a pretty good productive day today. All it took was... getting excited about Habanero cheese... and it started falling apart.

This is so annoying. I hate how razor's edge the difference between a good day and a frustrating day is.

I did yoga and meditated, which was good and helpful. I did dishes, I ate some food. I started brainstorming my stream stuff. I have a nice mic that I've been using for streaming... I mean... it's over 7 years old now... but who's counting, right? -_- It still gets the job done though, but my mic stand is cheap and once I get it set up I really don't like moving it. And... for art streams... I'm going to have to move it. I really just don't have a choice, that table is like 7 feet away. It's either that or not have a mic. Or get a new mic, but that shit ain't cheap.

And even now... I just... I get hit by a wave of depression thinking about streaming. I feel like no one engages, like no one really looks forward to it. It just feels very strongly like I'm background noise for people. Which... I guess that's kinda what streaming is for a lot of people. Maybe I'm just getting a bit greedy on it. Wanting friends. Wanting social interaction, social engagement.

I might as well get into this. The guy who used to be one of my biggest fans during my Rimworld YT series back in like 2020 (ouch, time files, huh...), he dropped by. It's the third stream of this colony, half an in-game year has already gone by. He drops in and says like 3 words. And is silent until he leaves. Fun. Guess the thrill is gone, eh?

I was really enjoying the story in this new playthrough. And some really dramatic shit happened, and I just... barely got a reaction. Like half the fucking colony died and no one really cared. And it's really goddamn hard to be excited about something in an interactive medium when people don't really care. It took the wind out of my sails a lot. I noticed myself narrating less. Treating it more like a game than a story. I cut myself off. I cut the game short and switched over to Session, which was like taking the interactivity of the stream behind the shed and putting it out of its misery. But I enjoyed Session, which is really the most important part, I think.

I'm still really grumpy about that. Like... all I want to do is just share my life with people, to have friends and share something I find fun. I come from an upbringing where friends would come over and watch you play games, or you would go over to their place and watch them, and the only thing you're doing is watching. And you're really engaged. And when I watch streams, I'm either working on art with the keyboard nearby to interact... or I'm just full-on watching the stream. But it seems like the guys who watch my stream just put me on in the background while they are playing games themselves. Like... this guy is playing Destiny 2 with a party, and has my stream on in the background. You really think he's absorbing the story? You really think he's invested in the characters? This is someone who goes out to the movies and is playing Candy Crush on their phone the whole time.

On one hand, I feel I should be grateful anyone is showing up. And, in a lot of ways... I am. It is better than streaming to no one. But it just... sucks. And I feel like I should be honest about that. Nothing is really more alienating than to have something you're really really passionate about... and no one to share it with.

The big thing that set off the tone shift in the day though... was the Habanero cheese. Yeah, I found my way back there. I have to do grocery deliveries now, on account of the whole "not having a car" thing. The grocery store is garbage at keeping up with the stock in their store. I have no fucking clue how... since they literally have every individual item scanned into a machine as it's brought out of the store... I have no fucking clue how they can't keep their inventory stocks organized and updated... Like... good lord... it's 2023, how the fuck do you not know what is on your shelves? So... pretty much every time I order Instacart groceries, there are substitutions or refunds. And I had a whole plan for tonight. I saw habanero cheese and I got really excited, and I had a whole plan to cook the potato skins I've been saving in the fridge from the other night, mixing that habanero cheddar with some smoked cheddar I have... I was pretty stoked for that, some cheesy rice on the side, maybe some chicken with it. And then, after like 4 substitutions... the lady is at the end of shopping and just straight up refunds the habanero cheese... and I'm typing in the chat "hey, if you can't find the habanero cheese, go check in the produce section by the deli meats and shit, there's a display case there, it should be there... and if not, please just grab me some pepper jack." And I got like 6 words into that and the jerk closed the order and went to checkout. Like straight up ended the order mid-sentence on me. And I'm giving this person like 17 bucks to drive this shit 1.3 miles from the grocery store to my apartment. That's not too shabby for like... half an hour, 45 minutes of grocery shopping, man. That... really threw me. It really upset me.

I got myself Chinese food to make up for it, but the night was just really thrown off. And the Chinese food wasn't that great tonight. I just... I'm trying really hard to keep positive momentum, but it's so damn hard to do that in an isolation chamber. Getting a "sorry for your loss" letter from the Animal Hospital didn't help either. I mean, the thought was nice, the gesture was nice... but... it's also kind of a token gesture. I appreciated the phone call from my vet who actually knew her... more than the signatures of like 6 people who never met her or me. But yeah, just... bringing that back it... it was tough. Like... ever since the sun went down it's been a bit rough.

So yeah. Doing my best with all that.

I feel stupid. I've been through so much shit lately... and this is what I'm getting upset about. Cheese... and distracted nerds who don't value the entertainment I'm providing. I just... stream-wise, you know I'm still stuck on that. I feel like I could be doing something better. I do. I know I'm just antsy or whatever... I just... I feel like I should be doing art. And art and music streams are just the only shit I can't do right now, because I don't have the shit set up.

Here's the run down. My notes I took today:

GAMES Rimworld - Load and go Session - New controller, ideally

WORK Music - Map the audio routing, test if you can just capture desktop audio and monitor through Cubase. Take a day and troubleshoot. - Set up Magic preset to make visuals a bit more engaging. Make sure audio routing works with that too, since they might compete for ASIO use. - Audio routing is an absolute bitch.

Art - Set up webcam and stand. - Check if second mic is here. If so, brainstorm a setup. - If not, brainstorm a new mic setup, or… I hate to say this… move the current mic over there for art streams. It's gonna be annoying as fuck, but it's the easiest solution right now.

STREAM CONTENT Music - Right now, I can do programmed music in Ableton. Pretty sure, might wanna test it. Audio drivers are the real variable. - Find and add more OST music to the playlist for Rimworld streams, it's working so far. - Consider listening to bands from Deathwish and other smaller labels.

So yeah, that's sorta where I'm at with that, I guess. Any moron thinking streaming is as easy as just pressing a button clearly hasn't put in the effort of setting up something with decent production value. Especially with makeshift equipment. Especially when it comes to audio routing. Good. Fucking. Lord. What I would give to never have to watch another fucking YouTube video about audio routing for OBS or Cubase. I have been recording music off and on since I was like 17... and I still fucking nod off every time drivers and ports and routing and blah blah blah. AGH. My life would be so much easier if it didn't bore me!

The same goes for this art idea from last year that has come back to haunt me. And it really won't leave me alone. No idea if I shared it last night, I might as well now. The idea was to create a completely custom coded from-scratch rudimentary organism. A thing. A thing that can move, and see, and choose where to move based on sight. Very basic. A thing - like a single-celled organism - that is capable of moving, that can see in a range front of it with a photoreceptor, that can discern from... let's say to start the average light level of the area in front of it... which way to move. Like a Roomba. Life. Something that makes its own decisions within the parameters given to it. Intelligence. Artificial Intelligence.

Wow, I actually got some clarity. My older brother is really into languages and computer stuff. He might be able to help me code this stuff. I can figure out the logic chains, and I know exactly what I want this thing to do. I just need help with like... translating it into coding language. That's where I was going with it. I learned a bunch, enough to make organisms that could randomly move around on their own last year. But just to random locations, not specifically choosing based on environmental parameters, which is what I want. If my brother could help, that would be insane. But... he has a very young son. And a young hyper dog. And is basically co-running the severely understaffed family business. I doubt he'd be able to make the time even if he wanted to.

Ugh.

Welp, the ultimate idea is this, and I can see it in my damn head it's so clear. I want these organisms to function off of sight or smell, or both - at least analogs for those senses. I want this thing to avoid the boundaries of the simulated world. I want it to avoid collision obstacles. I want it to seek areas of high nutrition density. And I want it to leave a path behind for others to follow starting when it has identified a food source, which will diffuse and fade over time, a pheromone trail. I basically want to create an input map of nutrition nodes, and track the creatures' desire paths.

I want to make art out of desire paths. That's the big thing at the core of it. Maybe all this AI stuff is convoluted, maybe it's my way of simulating something we already have... real fucking life. Desire paths have fascinated me for so long. Maybe it's just being on the trails out in the woods, and exploring off-trail and finding deer trails and shit, and seeing which paths they like to take. I used to like blazing trails in Minecraft too. The concept is really alluring to me, very interesting, and very beautiful how they are some weird fusion of manmade and natural. Like... sometimes the difference between manmade desire paths and natural ones is almost indiscernible. And I think they're really beautiful.

And I've had these patterns in my head for so long of like... nodes... with paths leading between the nodes. Every path a bit different from the last. I've probably already written about this, I'm just... really enraptured right now and want to keep it in my head. Like if you look at Google Maps of a city, one with a pretty organic layout, if you just disregard the grid shit we do in cities because otherwise every major city would be like Boston... XD Maybe a town is a better example. If you really zoom out, you see a concentrated area in the center, a concentration of Life. And the winding paths to get there. And to leave there. Almost like an organically shaped spiderweb. And... I don't know. Something about those patterns keeps calling to me.

I really wanted to code AI and have them draw these randomly influenced individual paths towards nodes and between nodes. I really thought it would be a cool concept. But the work involved. The learning. Learning code, when I'm not 100% fully into it... it literally makes me nod off. It's not that I don't care, I just... can't get it. It just frustrates me. It's like... all these extra fucking steps! And, with this project at least, I'm tempted to just get a big piece of brown paper, tape it to the wall and just draw these fucking paths myself with a pen. And I might. I might just take a day and do that and see how it comes out. I just... I really wanted to find a way to choreograph this where I wasn't able to influence the level of randomness. Because, intuitively, I'm going to add some bias for aesthetics... which completely fucks up the concept. The concept is that the individual that is taking each individual journey (i.e. the roller ball in the ballpoint pen, or the AI cell) has no real idea of what their macro journey looks like from a birds-eye view. The only see what's right in front of them. They see their immediate goals. They see where they are heading, they see their immediate choices of forward, right, left, go, stop. They see whether this area is travelled or not, whether it's safe or not, whether it's passable or not. I see the paths others have taken. I see their entire path so far. And I see the patterns and the trends. So if I am controlling that pen? It's going to be really hard to force myself to tunnel-vision on --- Holy fuck. I got it. I figured it out.

Digital art. That's it. That's how I can hand-draw this. I can do each journey, each individual "hike" or "walk" or "journey" through whatever map I put them on... I can do each one as a different layer. And turn off all the other layers when it's time to go. So that they're not influenced by the one before. Oh shit, it's coming together. So... I can check after and overlap them... and when areas overlap say... 5 times? 5 different travelers overlap one specific area? Make that visible on the main map for other new travelers to see. So a trail starts naturally forming in that area. And people are definitely drawn towards traveled areas, so if a traveler is passing an established path, and it's heading the direction they are going... it makes sense that they would use it. Like... we would all walk on the shoulder of a road rather than straight through the woods as the crow flies, because even if the cleared path is a longer distance, it still goes faster and easier, and safer.

That could be a good solution. Hm... Worth experimenting with. That would be pretty easy. I just need to set out parameters. A map with distinct landmarks - points of interest (destinations), impassable areas, we'll start with that - and a bus stop route for each traveler. Maybe just roll a d20 to pick each stop. That could be cool.

I love inspiration. More than that, I really love capturing it like I did right here. Seriously, it was like a lightning bolt, it just came together. My brain does this constantly, I can't turn it off. Unless I'm super depressed and distracted, like... the first half of this... XD I love my gift, I just... it can be very frustrating to lack the tools to make some of these ideas... or to lack the training and not be able to pursue it properly... and even more so to actually complete them and then... have them go nowhere.

But I'm not going to tarnish this glow with any more of that shit. That was a great vibe to end on. I'm going to put this project on my whiteboard and make sure I take sometime to prototype it tomorrow. I can very easily do this on stream. That could be a nice way of just chilling and making fun process-based art, and sharing the process with anyone who wants to come chill.

[scenefox2003]

Yunan and Marcy Bond On The Pirate Ship

Aka I suck at creative titles but it’s exactly what it sounds like (it’s Yunan’s turn to parent, she kinda sucks at it at first tho)

Yunan growled as she yanked a rope with all her might, hoping to get enough wind power to chase after the enemy ship. Irritating laughter rang out as it drifted away, so close yet so far away. Most of her supplies for the trip went along with it, in the greedy clutches of a little green Manlet.

“That was too easy!” Tritonio shouted from the stern of his ship. “I’m honestly shocked, I thought the Newtopian government had no care in the world for sad little orphans!”

“It doesn’t for you, you little shit!” Yunan screamed, gripping the railing as if she could strangle it. “Just go to therapy and get over it instead of making everyone else’s lives a living hell!”

There was no use in acting civil, Yunan had already been humiliated. By Tritonio, nonetheless. That little prick with his dumbass accent and stupid haircut… he was always getting in the way, swindling her and making her look like a joke! Not to mention the time he tried to seduce her at that seedy bar… it didn’t work for obvious reasons but he still managed to steal her wallet somehow.

“Oh, quit your whining! Why don’t you just go buy more with that fancy royal credit card of yours? Oh, that’s right, I stole it! And you’re still too much of a pussy to tell Andrias and get a new one!”

Tritonio’s ship rang out with laughter, and Yunan felt her face getting hot. But her brain wasn’t fast enough to come up with a proper comeback, so there was a solid ten or so seconds of them laughing at her before she responded.

“I don’t even know why you thought that trick would work! Just looking at you makes me gayer! Go shove your dick in a rusty tin can for all I care, you good for nothing charlatan!”

But by then the enemy ship had already drifted into the sunset, and Tritonio had gotten the last word. Yunan let out a feral growl and punched the railing with all her might.

“MOTHERFUCKER!”

The shitty old wood cracked and splintered, and she was about to do it again before a small voice spoke up from behind her.

“Um… Captain Yunan?”

Yunan swiveled around to face Marcy, who was standing awkwardly behind her. She had honestly completely forgotten she was there. Yunan was used to traveling alone, but this time Marcy wanted to be dragged along.

“Come on, Liv! You know I hate sailing with a crew! They just slow me down!” She had whined when she heard the news.

“It’ll be good for you,” Olivia had insisted. “Being alone on that musty ass ship for that long isn’t healthy.”

“Excuse me, the S.S. Pussy Destroyer is NOT musty! Besides, If it’s so lonely, Why don’t you come with me?”

“You know how much I hate boats, that old thing is a death trap and I get seasick already. Besides, Marcy’s delightful, you’ll love her.”

“So you’re willing to put HER on a death trap?”

“Oh, just fucking take her.”

And so she did, and Olivia wasn’t wrong. Marcy was sweet, and very helpful as well. But having her around now to witness her defeat… wasn’t ideal.

“Well that was a fucking disaster,” Yunan spat, starting to pace. “We’ve lost most of our supplies which means we’re gonna have to dock somewhere and buy more. God, I hate people, why can’t anything go RIGHT!” She screamed, tearing her hair out. She wasn’t even talking to Marcy at that point, just venting her frustration, and Marcy once again had to say something to make Yunan remember her existence.

“So uh, what should I do? Can I do anything to help, or-”

“I dunno! I don’t really care, and I don’t need your help. Just get out of my way so I can fix this mess!” She scoffed, waving her away with her hand. Yunan’s words had come out unintentionally harsh, like most of the things she said, but she didn’t really notice until she saw Marcy’s face fall.

“Oh, o-of course, I’m so so sorry, I’ll just, uh… leave you be, I’m sorry!”

Marcy quickly ran off to the cabin without another word. Yunan considered following her for a second, a bit concerned, but decided to focus on the task at hand, shutting herself in the storage room to get to work. Marcy could probably handle herself.

Once Yunan had taken inventory and come up with a revised plan for the rest of the trip, the sun had already set. She was more than ready to collapse into her hammock and call it a night, but when she went into the cabin she noticed Marcy’s hammock was empty. Her sword and red pirate hat were on the floor, seemingly dumped there, but the human was nowhere to be found. She bent down to pick up the hat.

“Huh, that’s… weird,” Yunan muttered to herself, about to shrug it off and call it a night. But something about it bothered her. She left the cabin and headed up the stairs to the upper deck, wanting to get a bird’s eye view of the ship and hopefully spot Marcy.

About halfway up the stairs she heard sniffling and small, stifled sobs.

Yunan’s heart immediately sank. She thought back to how she had acted, and the more she replayed the scene in her head the more she realized she was the asshole.

“Fuck!” She whispered to herself. “I’m so stupid! I was way too harsh with her! She’s like what, thirteen? God!”

She stood on the steps awkwardly for a moment, then finally built up the courage to climb the rest of the way up.

Marcy sat at the edge of the boat, hunched over in a tiny ball, hugging her knees. She pulled her jacket tightly around herself as she shook. Yunan couldn’t tell if she was shaking just because she was crying, or because it was cold, or because of the boat rocking.

Yunan hesitated for a second, feeling a bit awkward. She wasn’t good with people, that was Olivia’s job. But she couldn’t help but feel bad for Marcy, and she was the only other person on the ship. Not to mention it was probably her fault she was crying in the first place. She had to do something.

“Uh, hey kid…” Yunan called out awkwardly, trying her best to use the sweetest voice possible. “You okay?” She walked over to sit down next to Marcy, but she didn’t turn to look at her. She just stared down at the waves below, her eyes glossed over with tears.

“I’m sorry,” Marcy choked out, pulling her coat tighter around herself. “I’m so sorry, I just-“

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Yunan quickly reassured. It didn’t seem to make things better though. Marcy sobbed a couple times, no longer caring about how loud she was, then wiped her nose on the sleeve of her jacket. It was pitiful to watch, and Yunan found herself looking away from Marcy and out at the ocean, trying to figure out what to say. She felt completely useless in this situation, she wished Olivia was there.

Wait, that’s it! What would Olivia do? Hmm…Probably the right thing or some shit. God damn it.

Yunan sighed, swallowed her pride and turned to look at Marcy again.

“Listen. About what I said earlier-“

“I’m sorry!” Marcy quickly interrupted. “I… I should’ve fought harder, but I let them get away with all our stuff, I wish I-“

“No!” Yunan shouted, surprised at how desperate she sounded. “That wasn’t your fault at all! It… it was all me. I’m so sorry for being a jerk. You didn’t deserve that.”

Yunan couldn’t help but be impressed with herself. Since when did she admit wrongdoing? It was admittedly weird, but something about it felt… right.

Unfortunately, it didn’t do much.

“But I DID!” Marcy wailed, burying her face in her knees. “I just took their hits like an idiot, like I always do! I’m such a bumbling fool! I got in the way of your mission just because I wanted to play pirates! You didn’t have to let me come, I know you like to be alone anyway and I’m just slowing you down-“

Yunan’s eyes widened in shock, and her heart turned to lead. Those words sounded too familiar. She placed a hand on Marcy’s shoulder.

“Woah, hey, stop. Look at me.”

Marcy stopped her tirade and finally looked at Yunan, her face an absolute mess. If Yunan felt guilty before, it was now eating her alive. She sighed and looked down, unable to handle it anymore.

“You… you heard me and Liv talking the other day, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Marcy squeaked out. “But you were right outside my door and you were talking kinda loudly.” She recoiled again, as if she was expecting her to retaliate, which broke Yunan’s heart. She sighed again, a long, soft sigh.

“Shit,” she muttered. “I’m so sorry, Marcy. I never said any of that because I don’t like you… I’m just really bad with people, and I was… God damn it, I was scared okay?! I admit it!”

Yunan was being genuine, and tried her best to show it, but it was no use.

“You don’t have to lie to me!” Marcy wailed. “You’re never scared! You shouldn’t have to do stuff like that! I should be better for you! I need to be better, you newts have given me everything and you’re all so nice to me and I just don’t understand why, I need to prove I deserve it-“

Before Yunan could even realize what she was doing she was hugging Marcy, holding her only for a split second before coming to her senses and rapidly letting her go.

“Woops, I uh, don’t know what came over me, I’m sorry-“

But then, just as quickly, Marcy was hugging her back, colliding into her and wrapping her arms around her waist. She buried her face in Yunan’s soft pirate blouse and squeezed her tighter than Yunan even knew she was capable of.

“I love you guys so much,” she sobbed, her voice muffled. “You deserve better than me, I’m horrible.”

Yunan tutted, and wrapped her arms around the girl.

“Aww, hey. Where’s all this coming from? How are you horrible? You have a perfect track record for missions and everyone loves you.”

“Not anymore! All our stuff got stolen, and when King Andrias and Lady Olivia find out I failed they’re not gonna want to be my friends anymore!”

With that everything started to make sense, and comforting seemed to come almost instinctively to Yunan. She curled her tail around the both of them, pulling Marcy closer.

“That’s crazy talk. Andrias and Olivia would never do that, I promise. They think the world of you.”

Marcy sniffled, then looked up at her, trying to tell if she was lying.

“They do?”

Yunan barked out a laugh.

“Yeah, DUH! I haven’t seen Andrias care about a person EVER, and then you came along and he actually seems genuinely happy. And Olivia can be a prude, but I know she loves you too.”

Marcy’s eyes welled up with more tears.

“But I don’t-“

“Nope, don’t even say it. Yes, you do. You deserve every wonderful thing King Andrias spoils you with.”

Yunan sighed, and in the gentlest action she had ever done, she wiped away a tear that rolled down Marcy’s cheek.

“You’re a good kid, Marcy. And yeah, you’ll probably grow up to be even better, but that doesn’t matter. Me, and Olivia, and Andrias, we all love you for who you are right now, not who you could be in the future.”

Marcy was silent for a while, overcome by emotion. Yunan wrapped her arm back around her, and Marcy buried her face back into Yunan’s shirt. Then she said in the tiniest voice, “thank you, I really needed to hear that.”

Yunan smiled softly, and patted her back.

“Sure thing, Master Marcy.”

Marcy sobbed quietly into Yunan’s side, and Yunan let her, sensing this was something she had needed for a long time. She wrapped her cape around Marcy’s shoulders and held her tight, rocking the both of them gently back and forth with the ship.

“You’re alright, kid. I’ve got you.”

The rhythmic sound of the waves mixed with Marcy’s hitched breaths lulled Yunan into a bit of a trance, which was only broken a while later when Marcy spoke again.

“I’m sorry for crying all over you…”

Yunan just chuckled.

“Do you really think the great General Yunan, scourge of the sand wars, defeater of Ragnar the Wretched, and the youngest newt to ever achieve the rank of general in the great Newtopian army is afraid of a little snot?”

“Yeah, I guess not,” she sniffled. “You’re really cool.”

Yunan couldn’t help but grin.

“Fuck yeah I am!” She gloated, playing it off as if it didn’t mean as much to her as it did. “You are too, you know.”

“No I’m not, I’m being such a baby right now.”

“Everybody needs a good cry sometimes.”

“Even you?”

Yunan sighed, and ruffled Marcy’s hair.

“Yes, even me.”

Marcy giggled, then yawned.

“Getting sleepy?” Yunan asked.

“Mhm.”

“Want to go back down to the cabin and go to bed?”

“No, I wanna watch the ocean some more.”

“Yeah, it’s really pretty tonight, isn’t it?”

Marcy yawned again then shifted a little, getting comfy.

“Yeah, it is.”

The vast blue ocean moved gently up and down, the sight complimented the soothing rocking motion perfectly. In the distance, a dolphin leapt out of the water in a graceful arc.

“Look Marcy, a dolphin!” Yunan said, but she didn’t get an answer. Marcy was already fast asleep. She chuckled a little to herself, carefully picking her up to carry her to her hammock. With Marcy in her arms, she had a moment of self awareness.

“Damn, I’ve really gone soft, haven’t I?”

She got no answer besides Marcy’s soft snores. She chuckled again, then headed downstairs.

She’d have a lot to tell Olivia once they got home. Maybe sailing with a crew wasn’t so bad.

[saiiboat]

ok i know yall like boats so: top 5 boats

HII HIHIHIHI

okay okay okay hihihihi

1. Shamrock V. i love her so much. shes a j-class yacht and her birthday is tomorrow. she was launched on 14 April 1930. i love her. she was also originally owned by sir thomas lipton. you know. from lipton tea. wild. She's also one of the few remaining J-class boats, most of which are wooden-hulled!! most if not all of the metal-hulled J-class boats were scrapped for parts during WWII :(( but!!! she is still sailing!!! she's about to turn 92.

okay the rest of these are production boat makes and types. i just really love Shamrock V.

2. sunfish 14'. we dragged our dad's sunfish from when he was a kid out of the barn and learned how to sail and repair boats on one of these! we have a very strong emotional attachment to red sunfish with white stripes and might cry if we see one (ours was backed into by a construction worker while she was in the driveway for repairs. sorry for traumadumping. i miss her)

3. o'day mariner 19 2+2. this was our dream daysailer all throughout highschool and we're looking at bigger boats now that we have the means to do so and put the work in, but the o'day mariner will always have a place in our heart fr fr. its our discord and pluralkit system icon if you ever see that.

4. Flying Junior. We raced these!!! They're like a narrower 420 (hehe) and are super fun. It was also the first boat we ever single-handed!!! This is the kinda boat that WILL capsize but is easy to get back up and get moving again. one time during a race one of the boats on the opposing team called us out on kinetics (rocking boat to generate movement without sails) while we were just trying to catch the wind (bad day for race. no wind. it sucked.) and so me n my crew said. yeah okay. and did a penalty circle and the gibe gave us enough momentum to pass them and win the race. suck it.

okay ik we said it was all production boats after Shamrock V but we have another non-production boat we're attached to

5. Schooner America 2.0. a BEAUTIFUL schooner down in Key West that we once sailed on. We bought a ticket for civilian day cruise bc we're autistic and she's modeled after the first winner of the America's Cup and we ended up talking to the captain for a while and anyways thats how we ended up as the helmsman of a 105' racing schooner for a couple hours. it was possibly one of the best days of our life. it was so fucking windy.

[charkyzombicorn]

Okay but what if luffy got his devil fruit a bit younger? Like he was 4ish when shanks brought it. Garp gets pissy earlier and decides to tie some balloons to his grandson and let the sky handle him while he makes arrangements with dadan.

But then it's a particularly bad day for luffy, and a strong wind carried him away from his island, he ends up falling right into one of the newer slave trader's ships and well fuck. He tried to fight them off but one of them has a collar with sea stone that the big boss person gives to every ship, even the smaller ones. So now luffy's fucked.

Since he's got a devil fruit, he's taken to the big boss child slave distributor asshole (put that on a business card) and then eventually gets taken to judge, because of course that dickhead would buy superpowered children. Judge gets him purely because rubber boy can take a hell of a walloping and also is stronger than the average four year old.

The vinsmoke brats and Sanji end up being pitted against Luffy and luffy does not win, but he doesnt die either so that's a plus. Sanji hates beating up a four year old, his brothers seem to love being able to punch something as much as they want without them being taken away or dying.

Luffy ends up learning how to fight by force, and eventually he's dubbed Sanji's fighting partner since they're both the weakest, which sucks because if sanji loses he gets locked up and if luffy loses then judge gives the other three brothers sharp objects and free time with luffy

Eventually luffy befriends sanji because of course he does, and loving food as much as he does he becomes the taste tester for sanji's cooking endeavors, and sometimes luffy manages to limp away to talk to sanji when he's in his cell.

When they escape, they escape together, and sanji becomes a bus boy and luffy just carries shit because he cant really do anything else but he could deadlift a ship at 10 so hey

When the attack happens, sanji's trying to save luffy, but zeff has to save him. Sanji sits on that rock almost certain that luffy's dead.

Luffy didn't die tho, because no, and he got saved, idk how, this is a writing prompt u figure it out, and they end up growing up apart for a bit after that. Luffy doesn't find his island again, but he does a bit of bounty hunting to get by and ends up making a name for himself because apparently his 'training' with the vinsmokes was a little more brutal than he thought.

Sanji works hard, he feels he owes a debt to both zeff and luffy, both of which helped him in some of his worse moments, and ends up a bit more edgy than in canon because he thinks his only friend is dead (push him to the edge🎶)

But then luffy gets blamed for something that was only really half his fault and half the random bandit he was fighting's fault, and he ends up with a bounty. It isn't a big one, just about 10000 berri, he kinda destroyed a bit more marine property than is recommended. But then sanji sees the bounty in the paper and he doesnt know if he should be glad his friend is alive or angry that luffy let him think he was dead.

But then luffy comes to the baratie when hes about 15-16, and then he sees sanji again and now he's super fuckin happy because how would luffy know sanji was alive?? They both came to the conclusion of mutual misunderstanding and lack of information after a bit of angst, because its sanji and luffy. But they get over it because they were both on the bottom end of the vinsmoke hellhole and does it really matter when they're reunited?

Zeff let's luffy steal sanji because it's been over a decade but luffy still wants to be the motherfuckin king, okay? And sanji's gonna be the cook for the pirate king and find the all blue because

Sanji becomes luffy's first mate and then start a sailing. Luffy attracts friends like a magnet, they get usopp next, and luffy kills kuro because luffy isn't as not-killerish as he is in canon because tragic backstory and if you leave a kid alone to be a bounty hunter long enough with only their own brain to make the morals, what do you expect will happen? Usopp joins because 'UwU piwate' is his opinion on the matter

They get nami, and sanji's a bit more chill than in canon because growing up with a guy that was also nice along with his sister and mother had a bit of an impact. He's still a bit if a french goth and treats nami better than other people but he isn't being a douche about a lady fighting or making faces quite as stupid.

Zoro joins but Does Not like sanji, which is mutual but luffy likes him so sanji must deal. They make their way toward the grand line, going back to the baratie, or what's left of it.

Sanji gets another thick layer of angst learning that while he was gone, don krieg destroyed the ship trying to steal it, and then they go to find don krieg, postponing grand line for a hot second because luffy wont leave until he gets to personally kick the ass of whoever made his cook so extra angsty, and sanji seconds that.

They find don krieg in Cocoyashi island, after crashing there with his broke ass ship. They fight him, the ruckus brings out arlong before Nami can attempt to lie to save them.

Sanji gets off one angst and gets it replaced with another when he can barely do shit because he was cooking all this time and is no longer as strong as luffy, who was only really working on fighting. Luffy almost dies because he has to fight both those shitheads back to back, but he wins.

Sanji starts getting more aggressive with zoro, and zoro only stays because he saw the fight and respects his captain, but that's a bit of a loose thing, ready to snap with a wrong move. Or maybe zoro leaves because he needed that fight with mihawk to realise this was serious and he was a pirate now, to each their own.

They stay in the east blue a little longer because luffy nearly died and they dont have a doctor, but he's fine. Sanji gets more guilt tho because that's how he is, and starts treating luffy nicer, which leads to luffy instigating a fight between the two of them because luffy wont swallow that shit. It helps things because violence is sometimes the answer

They head to the grand line, up reverse mountain, meet the whale, the whole shebang. Sanji might catch feels by this point because honestly who wouldn't?

Nami gets sick, and luffy doesn't know how to deal with that because back when he was being carted around with a sea stone collar and 30 other starving children, they just shot the ones that got sick. Ptsd time and guess who gets to help because zoro isn't first mate/here? Sanji! Which definitely puts things into perspective because for as long as he'd known him, luffy's tried his hardest to make sanji smile, and keep him company, even though after being bought luffy's only purpose was to be a stepping stone in sanji's development. So sanji finally being smacked across the face with the brunt of bottled up traumatized child luffy, he needs a fuckin smoke.

They find drum island and then same shit as canon, except it hits a bit harder with luffy carrying a dying nami and a heavily injured sanji up sheer rock because that's the only person that luffy had when shit got rough that he's holding between his teeth.

When sanji wakes up he probably notices how injured luffy is and can estimate the ringer he's been through because Sanji had to personally find out how luffy's healing factor worked because he was a good fraction of the reason luffy needed to heal so much.

They acquire a chopper :3

This is getting long and it's pretty much the end of my idea, sorry for the long informal post.

[bonktime]

Weather the Storm

Prologue: Lay of the Land

Ezra (Prospect) x f!reader (no y/n) 1861 Lighthouse au 

Masterlist //  Chapter One: Taken Aback

Rated: Explicit (bit of a slow burn but we’ll get there)

Warnings: Language for now (smut will come later)

Summary: Ezra travelled with the tides, let the sea carry him where it willed and never stayed long. The lighthouse keeper was the opposite. Where he moved she stood firm, defying the waves and the tide as if carved from the cliff herself. They’re drawn together, but opposing forces so strong are always destined to cause a storm.

A note: I kinda apologise for historical inaccuracies but 1861 was a proper shite time to be a woman so we’re mostly glossing over that. Also the lighthouses mentioned hadn’t even been built yet. Another thank you to @danniburgh​ who I threw ideas at to see what stuck. As of right now this is shaping up to be 7 chapters and an epilogue of sea puns, yearning, angst and definitely smut. I intend to update weekly but that may vary depending on work! I’ve put glossary at the end so you know what I’m talking about. Written in the third person.

Let me know if you wanna be tagged!

Wordcount: 851

~~~~~~~~~~

Everything Ezra could see was grey. Heavy clouds loomed above, threatening rain but not ready to give it up, their reflections transforming the sea into mercury. Even the huts in the bay appeared drab, colour sucked out by the beating of the weather. He wondered if the people would be the same, colourless and cold like the land that surrounded them. He had often found that humans adapted to their environment so well they almost became a part of it, blending slowly together until inseparable and indistinguishable. In a way he was envious of them, to go where the work was had never allowed him to stay too long and get too comfortable. It made him stand out, always a newcomer, an outsider unable to make real acquaintances. He liked it though, the freedom, the adventure of it. He was certain that he always left an impression when he’d gone: a bruising kiss, a couple missing teeth, a scar. He marked the places he'd been, like carving his name into a tree.

The North Sea was an apt name, he decided. He’d read that it had once borne many others, Morimaru, Oceanum, Mare Germanicum, but only North had stuck. There appeared to be no other words that could correctly depict it. North as in north of everything, north as in cold, north as in nothing else is important except it's northernness. It seemed curious that it had managed to shuck the title the Dead Sea, where floating freshwater stilled the waves and becalmed boats, where hidden reefs wrecked ships making it one of the deadliest coasts in the country. He supposed with the new technology, those aboard had ample warning to avoid getting dashed upon the rocks, only needing to keep a weather eye and ear out.

Finding work had been easy, the fishing season was starting, and with his experience the trawler ‘Mistress’ was all too eager to have an extra set of hands, willing and able to pay the devil. It was dangerous work that paid adequately and offered some compensation, money to a family he didn’t have if he died, a stipend should he be crocked into retirement. Enough that, if he scrimped a bit, he should have no trouble travelling wherever he wanted to go next.

"Four days at sea, three on land. You're lucky, we used to run six and one but tired men make mistakes that cannot be afforded." Ezra nodded in response, dead sea indeed. The man in front of him was writing the ledger and had barely glanced at him the whole time, giving Ezra ample opportunity to stare. He was probably in his sixties and had clearly known the sea well before taking to the books when his bones could no longer bear it. His face showed every year of hard work, of the wind and the salt but as much as he appeared like the jagged cliffs of the bay, his ruddy cheeks surprised Ezra and there was a twinkle of good humour in his eye. Not all cold and salt after all.

"Do you know of any pleasant lodgings in the local area? I'll need somewhere to find respite when on land." At this the old fisherman sat up and for the first time properly looked at Ezra. Sharp eyes scanning his face, focusing on the scar on his cheek and then his eyes, so intensely he could feel the man making his judgement. There was a moment's hesitation.

"3 miles up the coast there's a lighthouse, the keeper rents out a room in the cottage. You'll have to get there quick though, else you won't beat the tides" he stood creakily and stuck his roughened hand out for Ezra to shake "See you Monday, 3 hours before dawn. If you're late, you get left behind." Ezra shook it and, with a nod, left him to begin his walk up the coast.

The wind bit his face as he looked up at the looming tower across the causeway, from here the island seemed lonely, a last stand against the beating of the waves. The lighthouse itself had once been painted white but Ocean spray had dirtied it, turning it the same grey as the sky. The Old Salt had been right about the tide, it had begun its approach. Slowly covering the rough path to the island where the lighthouse and its cottages sat, cutting it off. Crossing it wet his feet and numbed his toes but guaranteed a room for at least the night. He would be stuck there until the water receded. 

As if warding him away the water rose around him, appearing to speed its ascent and forcing him to lift him bag high as he waded, knee deep through the icy water. Reaching the island, a solitary figure appeared out on the rocks, it turned and headed towards him, sure footed despite the terrain. 

Ezra hadn't known what he was expecting from a lighthouse keeper. Probably an old man with a large beard, weather beaten and bad tempered.

Whatever he was expecting, she certainly hadn't been it.

⧫⧫⧫

Morimaru: Celtic for dead sea

Oceanum: latin, literally means ocean ,you probably got this one

Mare Germanicum: latin for germanic ocean

Becalmed: stuck without wind or currant

Trawler: sailing fishing boat invented in Brixham 19th century

Pay the devil: tarring a part of the ship called the devil, known as one of the worst jobs

Crocked: injured, I dunno how rare this one is but I’m never entirely sure if I’m using geordie words or not

Old Salt: means old sailor, endearing

If I missed anything let me know. If you read all this I hope you enjoyed my love of research and homesickness coming together!

[orange-waterfalls]

Reader w/ wings headcanons(Markiplier Alter Egos)

ty @fancybootm​ for the request!

A/N: i just did all of them. every-all-everyone. Except Yandereplier, Silver Shepard, Ed Edgar... maybe others I’m not aware of at the moment... I tried to stick with a certain number of egos, but my hands just... they just kept moving. It is 11:00 pm when im writing this ya boy is TIRED. there are 1.6k words. It seems longer than it is bc bullet points. Bear with me. You can find the egos that you want easily. The reader is gender neutral. i am so sorry if this is not what you meant lol. on the bright side this is a good reference for all the egos i am open to writing for(also maybe others idk) so uh im keeping it enjoy. I’ll say... a T rating for cursing and also a bit of violence but literally like 20 words. mentions of injury. that’s it.

Requests are open!

Y/N(reader) with wings hcs

No one knows what the fuck you are, not even you

Ya got wings. That’s it.

Are you an angel? A faery? A phoenix? Who knows

You woke up one day in a forest remembering nothing

But you had wings

And then you got shot with an arrow

You ran away and hid in a cave

Darkiplier spends most of his time around you studying you

To see what you could possibly be

He still doesn’t know

He’s settled for calling you a “cryptid”

He’s slightly annoyed with the feathers you leave around the manor

He won’t tell you bc you can’t control that and it’d be rude

You read together in his study on occasion

You sit on the floor bc your wings get uncomfortable in chairs

In sympathy, he also sits on the floor

You think it’s sweet

You told him so and he sputtered out a “shut up and read your book”

He’s fairly fond of you

You’re good company to keep around

Wilford was the one who found you

He was walking through the forest, as one does, when he saw GIANT feathers

Naturally, he followed them

He found you in a cave with an arrow in your shoulder

He took you back to the manor and patched you up

He begged Dark to keep you there

He promised not to kill anybody for a month

He made it 15 days, which is a record

He’s very protective of you, not letting you out a lot since uh… hunters

You are his Sweet Little Songbird, light of his life, wind in his sails, 

if anything happens to you he will kill everyone in the manor and then himself

He helps you preen a lot

His hands are very gentle, surprisingly 

He spends the most time with you out of everyone

You play games, talk(well, he talks to you), and just hang out

He loves and adores you with his whole heart

Actor tolerates you, or so he says

He’s jealous of your wings

HE’S supposed to be the mysterious, sexy one!

But ok, yeah, you’re pretty interesting

He uses you in short films sometimes bc… well… wings

There are alot of things you can do with wings, surprisingly

He took you out into town one night

He shoved the wings under a thick jacket

You guys bought some clothes and food

He cut holes in the clothes for your wings, grumbling about a “waste of money” and “you never go out anyway” 

but he enjoyed spending a bit of time with you

Wilford nearly killed him(again) when he found out

He likes venting to you bc you just nod without really listening

As I said, you’re good company

Yancy thinks you’re nice

He felt a bit… threatened at first

Ya got WINGS, of course he’s cautious

But they are very pretty

And he likes to use you in choreography

People always comment on how realistic the wings are as Yancy leads you away

You don’t judge him for killing his parents, he likes that about you

You don’t know. You could’ve done something bad. You don’t remember

He likes cuddling bc you wrap your wings around him and he feels safe

He also helps you preen… sometimes… 

He’s… really bad at it...

You like listening to him sing

He sings you lullabies at night

You’re very close

Illinois is very fascinated with you

He’s convinced you’re a fairy

He’s seen quite a few of those

You tell him you don’t know, and he goes “a LiKeLy StOrY”

He likes drawing you

You’re very angelic

“Oh, maybe an angel then…” He says, like an idiot

He takes you with him on a few adventures to fly him over pits and stuff

He’d never admit it but he has a… THING about heights

It’s called a phobia, you egotistic maniac

You try to help him with it

You never get that far off the ground before he’s screaming to be put down

He appreciates the effort

He gives you things he finds on adventures that are pretty or remind him of you

He infodumps to you about curses, and archaeology, and adventuring, etc.

Magnum is uh… well, he’s Magnum

He figures you’d be useful out at sea

You can find nearby land, ships, or treasure by flying, of course

He didn’t take into account the fact that you don’t really… fly that often.

So it turned into you just stretching your wings instead of looking for loot

Once you fell overboard

Everyone was like “eh, they can fly, it’s fine”

Then they realized that you probably can’t since your wings might be wet

Magnum LEAPED into the fuckin water and THREW you back on

He doesn’t take you on the sea as much anymore

sometimes you talk about life, treasure, love, y'know the usual

He’s very Father Figure-ly

Bim isn’t sure how to feel about you

You are a person. With wings. What’s he supposed to do about that

He’s friends with Wil, so has to tolerate you at least.

He tries to make conversation, but it doesn’t always go as well as it could

You don’t have much to talk about, and some of his topics worry you

Mostly you two just kinda… exist in the same general area

Sometimes he’ll discuss what he should do on his show

You don’t have many ideas

But you’ve gotten an idea of what it is, and sometimes give a suggestion or two

He appreciates you for that

He tried to get you on the show once but Wilford refused

You kinda wanted to, but whatever

You’ll hang out sometimes too

He’s very entertaining, he has to be

Eric is kind of scared

Not that you’ll hurt him, that he’ll hurt you

That happens a lot to people he likes…

He eventually starts hanging out around you

You don’t ask bad questions, and you distract him from his dad

He talks about animals with you a lot, and how he wanted a farm

You bought a cowboy hat and gave it to him and he cried

You also gave him a stuffed cow one day

He hugged you for a long time

You two cuddle a lot bc the boy needs SAFETY and SECURITY

You wuv each other(platonically or otherwise)

Dr. Iplier doesn’t bother you, mostly

He appreciates that you keep to yourself

He has his work, that’s what he’s focused on

Sometimes he’ll see you when you try to find Wilford or get some food

He tries to get a good look at you without looking suspicious

It doesn’t work, he always falls over

He once gave you a “physical”

It was mostly to just figure out what you were

You seemed mostly human based on the results

But goddammit you had WINGS

They had their own function but were sort of like an add-on to your body

He was slightly disappointed you weren’t gonna… turn into a whole bird

You tolerate each other

Google fuckin’ hates you

He’s completely perplexed by you

Which he is never because he is the most intelligent being on the planet

So he assumed he could figure out what you were

Turns out google fucking sucks at figuring out things people don’t already know

So he hates you. Like a lot

He’s tried to kill you multiple times

But his objective is to destroy MANKIND

You are not included in that

BECAUSE HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE!!!

Also Wilford almost killed him for it

So yeah he just kinda hates you

You’ve tried to get along with him but he just wouldn’t

He finally talked to you when Bing called him a little bitch

Still hates you, but can tolerate your existence now

Bing fuckin’ adores you

You are just wonderful to him

You can FLY??!! You have WINGS???!!!!!

You don’t really care that he is an artificial BEING????!!!!!!!!

You’re perfect

He does Sick Tricks™ to try to impress you

They never do

You appreciate the effort

You don’t see him a lot, but when you to it’s very entertaining

He taught you how to skateboard

You kinda sucked but he’s very supportive

He likes just hanging around you

It’s the only time he ever chills the fuck out

Everyone’s thankful to you for that

Your entire dynamic is “what if... i put... my minecraft bed... next to yours? haha just kidding... unless?”

The Host doesn’t really care about the wings??

I mean, he can’t see them, so… what’s the big deal

You appreciate that

He still does the uh… narration thing… with real people…

The stories end better now

You convinced him to make the stories end better

You sat with him to make SURE the stories end better

He also started writing novels recently

You help with plot and character development

He appreciates that

The Jims… don’t really care about you

I mean you’re interesting, of course

But they physically Cannot get a clear picture of you

Even if you agree to sit still, it just doesn’t happen

It is always, ALWAYS blurry

They eventually give up and leave you alone

They do spend a bit of time with you

You help them with demon episodes sometimes

You don’t do much, but they like the emotional support

King of the Squirrels is… well, he’s him

He doesn’t… he doesn’t do much

He hangs out with his squirrels. That’s pretty much it.

You just started hanging out with him one day

He didn’t mind

You two feed the squirrels while sitting by a tree

He lets you wear his crown sometimes

He draws his squirrels, and lets you see the pictures

He teaches you how to draw them

You two don’t talk, really

You just sit. And hang out.

He doesn’t really smile, but you can tell when he’s happy with you

[incorrectlumityquotes]

FULL REVIEWS: “Once Upon a Swap”

Watching this show all over again reminded me why I liked it so much, but you can’t knock it out of the park every time.

When this episode was gonna come out, I knew everything I needed to know. Body swap. That’s the name of the game and that’s really all there is to it. When it first came out I thought it was...fine. Now it’s been some time. Let’s see how it holds up.

The cold open starts at Eda’s Human Collectables stand and we get a better introduction to Boscha. Unlike Amity who is misunderstood, Boscha is a full grade queen bitch. She bullies Luz and wants to own King, but even she’s not immune to this cuteness. Even Eda doesn’t like her.

We get a couple more of Luz’s little sayings that I love:

“Teens can be sour but I’m a little sweetie.”

and

“Did I spell something wrong? Or did I spell something right?”

Eda tells her to stop it (Nooo!) and an argument quickly leads into the episode’s premise. Body swap!

I’m not a furry but

The infamous Disney do-me eyes.

Body swaps as a trope are...fine, I guess. My favorite part is when the voice actors imitate each other’s performances. That doesn’t happen here. I guess because of magic or whatever they use the trope Voices are Mental. Kind of a cop out to me. 

Also, Freaky Fraturday? Disney OWNS Freaky Friday. Just say Freaky Friday. Whatever.

The Owl House fam bets that whoever has the easiest life has to clean Hooty. Simple enough as the episode splits into three parts. 

The A-plot has Eda getting pampered around town until she’s picked up by some old ladies who run a kitty cafe. It’s creepy but kinda fun. Eda tries to split when they want to put little costumes on her then it goes from kinda creepy to holy hell.

I take everything I’ve said about this show not being scary back! Good lord.

Another cat called Bowtie (who has the same color scheme as DC’s The Joker. You can’t unsee it) says that the cats get babied so much that they lose their minds. That’s enough nightmare fuel. Switch to comedy!

King tries to prove that teenagers are a stupid, easily manipulated bunch and he’s right for the most part. We get some really good jokes and that’s about it. We also get a look at Boscha’s group including Skara, Amelia, Cat, and some guy I don’t know. I’m going to call him Tucker.

Fuck Tucker. Tucker sucks.

 Boscha shows up to establish dominance that doesn’t involve a t-pose. Instead it’s a race around dead man’s curve, which is the dumbest most cliché teen thing since “the big dance.” I didn’t know I was sick of “a race around dead man’s curve” until this episode. 

King learns what a straight up bully Boscha is and we cut to the C-plot.

Luz decides to bring on the magic and do Eda’s job better than Eda did. It works for a bit until the thing that Eda said would happen happens. Luz gets taken in by the guards and Lilith shows up to reveal that Eda used to want to be in the Emperor’s Coven. As in past tense. Kind of a weak reveal but whatever.

Luz escapes and somehow meets up with the others and one cluster mess of a body swap later, The Owl House fam escapes with Luz having to clean Hooty. 

FINAL SCORE: 3 - Meh

This episode is...fine. Nothing is bad. It’s just not that memorable. It’s got a good scare and some funny jokes and...that’s about it. I think what really hurt it for me was watching this episode right after Lost in Language. Kinda took the wind outta my sails or something. Not a big fan of Voices are Mental trope because I love it when voice actors try to imitate each other. We didn’t get that here and I feel like I missed out.

Not bad. Just okay. A typical body swap episode.

[pandoraimperatrix]

On the Sea

BatCat | Smut | 2,8k words | Read on AO3

Summary:  Bruce takes Selina to sail in his private island where no one can se them get busy on the deck. This piece belong to my Four Names ‘verse, but can be read independently, but if would be cool of you to check out the main story.

Selina knew she was being watched, and he knew she knew. It was all part of their game. Her legs swinging up and down blocking sometimes the view of the droplet of sweat that he was so attentively following. It slid from the nape of her head, between her shoulder’s blades and was now making its way all the way through her tanned skin to the small of her back; uninterrupted by the laces of her bikini because she had untied it ages ago when she laid to sunbath on the deck complaining she was bored. Bruce had not commented on her place of choice, that coincided to be right at his display, and continued to sail the boat, pretending to have all attention to the ocean and not to his tantalizing wife. That too, was part of their game.

She wanted him to be the first to break, and maybe he would, but it was too early to give up, and he had Selina’s natural impatience at his side.

“Hey, Cat” he called, and it took her a deliberately long moment to turn her face to him, lowering her cat eye framed shades to look at him with half-opened eyes “champagne?” he raised the bottle, before taking a sip without using a cup. He hid a satisfied smile when she swallowed dry.

Selina turned to her side, one hand supporting her head by the edge of her jaw, the other resting on the curve of her thigh. Breasts completely bare and adorned only by a silver medal hanging from her neck and twinkling in the sun. Bruce had to school himself to not choke, and he was pretty sure by the dirty smile on her face that she noticed him twitching.

He had married a witch.

“Should you be drinking and driving, I mean, sailing?”

Composed enough to be able to drink without embarrassing himself, Bruce took another sip.

“This bay is private, no other boats sail here, we’re fine.”

“No one?” she raised an eyebrow took off her shades, biting one temple tip. “Really? Interesting.”

And he knew for certain that she was not thinking about his reckless drinking. Damn, she was good, he could lose that one.

“So… Do you want?”

“Yeah, bring me a flute.”

She sat up, crossing her legs, the salty wind blew hair at her face, and she gathered her soft locks in a pile, using a strand of her on hair to tie it up, missing a few pieces that few around her face and neck. The sun reflected the golden tones of her curls giving her the illusion of an aura. When Bruce joined her sitting by her side with a flute and the bucket filled with ice and the bottle of champagne; he wished he had brought too paint and paper, but he knew that as much as he mastered the techniques, only a true artist could capture the vision Selina was presenting that day.

He rejoiced at the unadulterated pleasure that spread on her face when she took the first sip. Selina sighed, turning her face up to the sun, her leg touching his when her body moved, led by the swing of the boat. When she was actively trying to seduce him she could get everything from him. Made of him whatever she liked. But when she was like that, just her, just Selina, her smile earnest, just pleased by his company, in those moments, without even trying, that’s when he knew that, whatever seduction game they played, it was rigged against him, he’d lost from the start.

“What?” she asked with an amused expression.

Bruce leaned in, looking into her deep green pools, and slowly, erased the distance, capturing her lips. He barely registered the click of the glass hitting the wooden deck when she put her flute down to insert her fingers in his moist hair, while her other hand slid upwards his arm, kneading his shoulder before settling for his neck, rubbing his Adam’s apple up and down with her thumb. He dragged his tongue through the roof of her mouth until the fruity taste of the champagne faded and all that remained was pure Selina. She pulled away, breathing in and languidly offering her neck for meal, which he accepted, starving.

He kissed each of her beauty marks, there was so many of them, and maybe the sun had made new ones. Then, he tried to connect them with the tip of his tongue, pulling her close by the waist, her arms fell from his neck, and she relaxed. Lying down, Selina’s eyes locked in his, so lost in each other that neither of them noticed that her elbow tipped the glass flute down until they felt the cold bubbly liquid touching their fevered skin.

“Oops!” she said laughing and gently pushing him off her to look for the fallen object.

“Let it,” he groaned, trying to pull her back by the hips.

“Easy, big guy,” she said still amused, and standing up to put away the breakable items safely. “What if it breaks? I’m not risking a trip to the ER.”

Bruce sighed sadly watching her go, he lied on the deck, one arm under his head, waiting, when she came back Selina had a plastic bottle in her hand. He eyed it curiously.

“You are starting to look like a beet, and Alfred will have my ass if I don’t take good care of you.”

He made a disgusted face.

“Please never talk about Alfred having your ass ever again.”

Selina threw her head back in loud laughter.

“Dunno, B. Maybe I’m into silver foxes now,” she winked cheekily, kneeing down beside him and then throwing one knee across his hip and settling strategically on his bulging erection. Bruce licked his lips trying hard to not thrust.  

“Haha, so funny.”

She just smiled at that, and opened the sunscreen cap, squeezing product on her palms before starting to apply to his naked chest. And she took her sweet, sweet time with the task. She began with his solar plexus, spreading the white lotion upwards, feeling the roughness of the growing hairs, no reason to shave on vacation.

She kissed the scars she made on his left pectoral, and arched her body forwards to reach his collarbones, and neck, getting her face impossibly close to his and pulling away when he tried to kiss her. Ignoring his annoyed mutter, Selina, pulled his right arm up, carefully applying product from his shoulder to the tip of his fingers, then she did the same to his left arm. By then, he knew there was no way she wasn’t aware of how hard he was. She squeezed more product to her palm, and with the tip of her finger started to spread dollops to his face. He probably was looking funny, because he knew very well the twitching on her lips as she rubbed the bridge of his nose. Annoyed, he tried to steal a kiss.

“Bruce!” she chastised, trying to pull away in such way that instead of her lips, all Bruce could reach was her chin which he bit, eliciting a soft moan that made him realise that whole torture session wasn’t just wearing him down. Ignoring her protests, he propped himself up using his forearms and kissing her chin again, sliding his tongue down, following the paths of the droplets of salty sweat down the curve of her throat, biting her shoulder until he caught her nipple with his teeth. Selina gasped and pulled his head back roughly by the roots of his hair, forcing him to stare at her eyes. She was panting, and teasing to kiss him again, their lips inches apart.

“Let me finish,” she demanded.

“Eventually,” he retorted.

She let out a throaty laugh and pushed him back to the deck.

“Don’t make me tie you up,” she threatened.

Bruce shut his eyes, trying to control his own breath, Selina was still sitting on his erection, and in that moment he’d give her anything she wanted for a bit of friction, so, when he felt her weight shifting he almost cried in frustration.

“What are you- oh…”

He looked down and she was sitting on his thighs now, squeezing sunscreen directly on his abs, she spread the product meticulously with her hands while Bruce watched, he had never thought that such mundane action could be so sensual. Her brow furrowed as she worked, a droplet of her own sweat fell making a small pool in his product covered skin, and she dutifully wiped it again. Then, she reversed her position, giving him premium view of her ass while she worked on his thighs, legs and feet.

“Finished?” he asked, going mad.

She picked the cloth that he had used to protect the deck from the watermarks of the melting ice of the bucket he had brought the champagne in to relief her own heated skin, patting herself on her face and neck.

“I still have to get you back, don’t wanna lose you for something stupid like skin cancer.”

“Yeah?” he said sitting up and picking one of the remaining ice rocks and inserting in his mouth. “What about you?”

She smiled.

“Already applied before we came out.”

“Aw,” he pouted.

Selina reached backwards to his face, thumb rubbing his jaw.

“Don’t be sad, baby, there’s always after sun moisturizing.”

He took her hand and kissed it, trying to lead his kisses through her wrist, but she pulled it back and got off him.

“Belly down, pretty boy.”

“Come on, Selina, one kiss,” he whined.

“No, turn over.”

Sighing, he obeyed. Bruce felt her approaching, he thought her breath on his neck was just his wife being especially mean, but she sucked his earlobe making him yelp. She giggled.

“God, I hate you,” he groaned.

She clicked her tongue.

“Your nose will grow, Pinocchio.”

He chuckled charmed against his annoyance.

“Are you done?”

“Geez, I didn’t even start. And I told you to lie down, why are you sitting?”

“Kinda hard to lie on my belly now, Selina,” he deadpanned.

He heard her have a fit of giggles and rest her forehead on his shoulder to gather her bearings.

“Sorry,” she finally managed, applying product on his shoulders first.

“Are you though?”

“Nah,” she said shamelessly, as her hands slid through his back, paying attention to each corner.

“Just as I thought,” he muttered, sighing.

“Now, I’m done.”

“Hallelujah.”

“You are such a cry baby, Bruce, lie down.”

“Selina…”

“I told you to lie down. Belly up.”

He sighed an did as he was told, trying to imagine what she would invent to torture him now, but was caught completely under guard when in a quick motion, Selina inserted her hand inside his trunks and pulled his cock out, sucking the tip.

“Holy-!”

He shut his eyes, seeing stars, his ears ringing. When he opened his eyes again, he found he gaze on him, and Bruce needed all his hard training to not embarrass himself. Selina’s kisses went down his shaft, to it’s base and spreading kisses around the area, to his navel while her hand pumped. She liked upwards again, twirling her tongue around the head and kissing it lovingly without breaking eye contact with him. One of Bruce’s hands entered her hair, undoing the makeshift ponytail she had made before, scratching her scalp as she hollowed her cheeks, blowing him skilfully.  

“Love,” he called weakly. “It’s enough, please.”

She gave him a last lick before letting go, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Selina walked in her knees positioning herself in his lap, Bruce sat up and his time she didn’t reject his lips, holding his face with both hands while his explored her body, lovingly caressing the curve of her waist, kneading her rear, and pulling her closer by the curve of her knee. He bit her cheek weekly, and sucked the pulse on her neck, his hand grabbing one of her breast and guiding it to his mouth making her moan and thrust against him.

Sighing, Selina pulled his head up again, guiding him back to her lips, her chest only separated from him by the layer of perspiration. She kissed him for what felt like forever and never, never long enough. Pulling his bottom lip until it felt numb, and stopping just to look deep into his eyes every time they stopped to catch a breath.

“What are we going to do about your bottoms?” he asked before sucking her earlobe.

“What about them?” she answered, her voice barely audible.

“I could rip them off,” his hand already pulling the elastic.

She slapped his hand.

“Don’t you dare! I love this bikini, just work around it.”

“You could take them off…”

“Then I’d have to get up.”

He seemed to consider.

“Yeah. You are right.”

“As always.”

He snorted, and kissed her again, his hand changing directions to her centre, pulling the fabric to the side and sliding a finger up and down her vulva. Selina shut her eyes, her mouth falling in pleasure.

“Cat you are so, so wet.”

“Yeah?” she breathed.

“Yes. Is it all for me?”

She let out a suffering chuckle.

“Might be.”

“Oh,” he made when she thrusted against his hand, “does it feel good?”

“Can be better.”

“How so?”

Selina made an impatient sound.

“Just fuck me already, Bruce.”

“When you ask so nicely…”

She lifted her hips, hoisting herself through his neck, and, Bruce, pushed her bikini bottom’s all the way to the side with one hand and aligned himself to her pussy with the other, and Selina fell, joining the two of them together, finally. He groaned against her ear, hands dragging upwards to her waist and holding her hard in place.

“You are so impossibly tight.”

“If you are managing such big words yet, I can get tighter,” saying that she squeezed him, and Bruce cursed loudly, Selina chucked and started riding him. “Look at me, Bruce” she ordered, “look at me or I’ll stop.”

He did, and she smiled sweetly contrasting with how relentlessly she was fucking him, holding his face to look at her. Selina’s eyes shut, she arched her back. Her chin following her movements as she let out a loud moan dragging from the depths of her throat. Bruce held her strongly as she trashed, her thrusts getting erratic and without rhythm, slowing down, until they became just languidly undulations.

Soothing her with kisses, Bruce rose her limp body from his lap, and lied her down on the deck. She oversaw his ministrations with half-lidded eyes, relinquishing control for the time being. Bruce pulled down her bottoms, finally, throwing it at the cockpit’s direction. He dove, kissing her belly, grabbed her right thigh and sucked the soft skin of the inner part, kissing and licking his way to her knee and shin, biting the heel of her foot and eliciting a giggle from Selina.

Smiling fondly at her, Bruce, rested her leg on his shoulder, and then picked her left leg, giving it the same treatment. Then, he grabbed her by the waist, adjusting her body one last time before entering her again with a groan. Selina rose her hands to his face again, tracing his bottom lip with her thumb as he thrusted against her slowly.

“I fucking love you,” she whispered losing herself in the sensation, Bruce started picking up rhythm and talking faded. Coherence completely left when he started rubbing her clit without stopping his thrusts, trying to get her to come again before his own release became too hard to stop. He leaned more into her direction, seeking for more contact, and one of her legs slid down to hook around his thigh, the other one remained on his shoulder, providing an angle of penetration that only someone flexible like Selina could provide.

He kissed her to insanity, moaning inside her mouth, and when it became too hard to concentrating on kissing, he let out her bottom lip with a pop. Bruce, let go of her clit to support his weight against the deck giving him leverage and Selina substituted it with her own. He reached for the leg that slid down, pulling it up again and folding it to let him go deeper, the slight change of angle did if for Selina and she fell apart again, calling desperately for his name. Bruce didn’t stop, seeking his own release relentlessly until he too reached climax.

When his soul returned to his body, he opened his eyes to find her looking at him with besotted eyes, her hands roaming through his back slowly, giving him goosebumps. Bruce let go of her legs, letting her body relax, and he fell beside her, panting.

Selina turned to her side, propping her head on her hand and sliding her foot up his inner leg languidly.

“My knees are completely ruined,” she complained gleefully.

He chuckled.

“We’ll get you a pillow next time.”

She snorted.

“You are such a dork.”  

--------------------------------------------------

Guys, it's so hot, SO HOT, I can’t remember how rain felt like. So have some hot smut for all your BatCat needs. XOXO

[forasecondtherewedwon]

With Zero Power

Pairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle) Rating: E Word Count: 3382

For @spiderman-homecomeme, with the following prompts:

winter power outage

holiday smut

“I can think of one way to warm you up.”

Summary: Peter and MJ return from skating to find their apartment not quite how they left it. Between the warm fuzzies of the evening they've spent together and the holidays right around the corner, it isn't hard to find a little romance in the situation.

“I’m not saying it wasn’t beautiful,” MJ insists, “but think how much lighting a tree that size costs. With the number of homeless slowly starving in this city? With the number of children below the poverty line who are going to school in this weather—” The arm she waves is instantly layered in thick, wet snowflakes that glisten as they pass beneath a streetlight. “—without winter coats and boots?”

“With the number of college students trying to make rent with only their girlfriend to live with because their three previous roommates staged a mutiny and forced the couple out because the volume of their nighttime activities was, quote, ‘obnoxiously loud and unprecedentedly lengthy’?”

She sighs in exasperation.

“I’m making a point.”

“I agree with your point,” Peter says. “Completely. I already told May I’m volunteering with her all next weekend, and I’ll call Pepper tomorrow to see where she’s committed Stark Industries’ holiday donations.”

“And ask her to triple the amount.”

“I can suggest it,” he laughs, “but I’m not her financial advisor.”

“Mmm you should be though,” MJ says, shifting from holding his gloved hand to pulling his arm around her. “You’re so sexy when you’re redistributing the amassed wealth of a late billionaire.”

There are icy crystals glimmering in her eyelashes. She’s beautiful. He could walk the borough with her all night, live in a loop where they’ve always just disembarked from a late bus, disoriented to step from its stark light into the soft glow of the snow on sidewalks that aren’t cleared with the same diligence as they are in Manhattan, around Rockefeller Center, where they’ve spent the evening skating. That would be a nice life—tonight, with her, forever.

Peter halts them for a moment and wraps his other arm around her too, pulling his girlfriend in to kiss her. He sways them as he does it, smiling against her mouth, her cold nose pressed into his cheek.

“Did you have a good time though?” he asks. MJ nods and her face rubs against his.

“My rental skates were a little tight, but I did wear two pairs of socks, so it’s kinda my fault.”

He has a new pair of skates for her, exactly the right size, but they’re wrapped in red paper featuring dogs with candy cane antlers, waiting to be snuck beneath her tiny artificial tree on Christmas morning. A totally outrageous gift—figure skates in immaculate white leather, like she wears in the pictures he’s seen of her at childhood skating lessons—but he hates it when all his money goes to rent. This might finally be the gift to make her cry. He’s cracked the bottle that stores his girlfriend’s tenderest feelings before, making her eyes shine the winter he knit her a terrible, uneven scarf (she’s wearing it now), and he’s certain the skates will be the thing she really loves. She’ll cry with joy, she’ll say they’re too much, he’ll carry her from the little tree to bed and keep her there until she’s begging for more instead of less. The thought makes Peter grin now.

“Take a bath when we get home. Your feet will feel better.”

“They’d feel better if you carried me,” MJ suggests slyly.

But she screeches when he jerks her against him and, in the relative darkness of their street, looses a web, swinging them both into the air. They pretend it’s still a secret how much she’s grown to love the sensation of sailing through the night with him. What Peter is far from secretive about is how much he loves the way she clings to him, trying not to feel too guilty when he remembers he should attribute some portion of her grip to the time he dropped her. Ah well, it’s in the past. His girlfriend’s laughing shakily as he lands them on the roof of their building and crawls deftly down the wall to the fire escape.

“Cute,” she says, shivering with the aftereffects of cold winter air whipping around her face. The tone is both complimentary and accusatory. “But we have to climb down now, unless…”

MJ’s eyes narrow.

“I… might’ve left the window unlocked?” he asks, because asking implies someone else has the answer, that there is a buck to be passed, as much as he would simultaneously like to hang on to any spare bucks during this expensive season.

“Peter, you can’t do that. You know break-ins are more frequent during the holidays.”

“Yeah,” he allows, edging the window open, “but who’s gonna climb up to the twenty-second floor to try to get through our window?”

He dives inside, then helps her through. The proof that she had a good time tonight is that she lets the window thing drop. Peter shuts and locks the window as loudly as possible behind them.

“Didn’t we leave a light on?” she asks.

“I’m not—”

“When I say that,” MJ cuts him off, dropping her voice to a hiss, “I mean I know I left a light on.”

Instantly, he’s stepping around her, keeping his arm out to hold her behind him. She has a bad habit of going rogue in dangerous situations. More likely than not, she’d grab a kitchen knife and end up stabbing him by accident as they checked every room for intruders. Safer for him to lead.

But it’s not a break-in.

“It’s cold in here,” he realizes.

As they moved through the small number of rooms that make up their hideously overpriced apartment, they left the lights off. Now, MJ smacks at the closest wall switch. Nothing happens.

“Aw, come on,” Peter begs the overhead light. He tries a lamp. Click-click, click-click. Nothin’. “Man!”

“Fucking Rockefeller Christmas tree,” his girlfriend accuses, though it’s not possible that even an energy-suck of that size could drain their building, way out in Queens. “I’m not having a bath now. I’ll be freezing when I get out.”

“Ok. Let’s get some candles first.” Peter starts to walk away from her, down the hall. “MJ, where are the candles?”

With his enhanced vision, he can see her well enough to catch the eyeroll. Fair.

By the time they have a dozen candles lit, it smells like every holiday scent at once. Vanilla smudges cloyingly across the sharper sweetness of candied orange peel, the heaviness of pine battles the richness of milk chocolate, and the cinnamon that seems to have been included in every candle is giving Peter a headache until they agree to space their light sources out. The room is darker with the candles far apart, but the smell is bearable. He also doesn’t mind how the flames catch in MJ’s eyes when she blinks, how a streak of gold will dart across her throat when she turns her head to watch him watching her.

Peter’s mouth is dry when he stammers out, “Y-you look incredible,” like they’re sixteen again and he’s got his gaze fixed on her legs because it’s 90° and she very reasonably wore shorts to school.

“How I feel is cold,” she admits with a small smile. She stirs under the blanket that’s draped across both of them. He strokes her shoulder over her wool cardigan. “I really was looking forward to that bath.”

And because the way she says it sounds nothing like how a person might casually look forward to anything, Peter swells a little in his jeans and shifts his legs closer to hers.

“Were you?” he asks.

MJ’s gaze goes from his mouth to his eyes as she smirks subtly. She knows she’s got him. When does she not have him? The complaints of their former roommates were undeniably valid. It’s a miracle he and MJ accomplished enough in undergrad to even get accepted into grad school. If she hadn’t been the responsible one, he would’ve been pretty damn content to spend those four years in bed with her.

Innocently, she rests her head on his shoulder. He swallows thickly.

“Mhmm. I was looking forward to getting out of my cold clothes. I was looking forward to grabbing a big, thick—” She grips his thigh suddenly. “—towel from the closet to wrap myself in when I was done. I was looking forward to using my cranberry bodywash in the tub. That one smells really good, right?”

Peter nods because forming a sentence in this moment is beyond him.

“And it foams up really well,” MJ continues, tilting her face, passing her lips lightly across his earlobe. He’s hard. He’s so fucking hard so quickly. “So, I was looking forward to popping those bubbles when I ran my hands all over my body to work it in.”

“Fuck,” Peter groans. He digs his fingers into her waist, through the sweater, blood pulsing in his groin.

She shrugs, abruptly nonchalant.

“Mostly, I was just looking forward to being warm.”

“I can think of one way to warm you up,” he pledges.

Trust me, he mentally urges. Right now. Trust me like you trusted me to keep you on your feet on the rink when your legs wouldn’t remember how to skate right away.

“Good, because I need you.”

“Say it again?” Peter requests, hand on the back of her head as she raises it from his shoulder.

“I need you, Peter.”

MJ’s hand jumps from his thigh straight into his lap and squeezes him through his jeans. He crushes their mouths together, the two of them breathing in hot pants like they can warm each other that way. Making to move over her, he’s pushed back instead, winded from more than the shove as his girlfriend straddles him with the practiced efficiency of a quickie before Spidey patrol or as an incentive between study breaks. When she rolls her hips against his… shit, she might observe Christmas on the 25th, but the friction of her grinding on his dick is the only Christmas he’ll ever need to celebrate. He plunges both hands deep into her hair to seal their mouths together and slumps into the couch, offering maximum opportunity for her to rock that beloved place between her legs along his erection. He’s already feeling warmer.

“No,” she yelps when he tries to push her sweater off. She snatches it back on and pulls the blanket up over her shoulders. “I’m still cold.”

“Ok. Let’s work on that.”

Peter tilts his chin up in invitation and repositions his hands on MJ’s ass. When she kisses him in a slow brush, he begins forcing her back and forth over his lap. He groans into her mouth to feel her angle her hips just right and shiver. Not letting her back down, he grips her and drags her across his erection repeatedly, until she can’t kiss him anymore, until her forehead’s pressed hard to his and she’s hissing his name. The oscillation of her hips in his hands is hypnotic, even with his eyes closed. He’s groaning and trying to hold back, having a hard time concentrating on an idea of what to do next to get his girlfriend off before he reaches that point himself. He wants her warm skin against his when he sinks inside her, not a sudden gush in his jeans.

Still grinding, MJ sits up straighter. She doesn’t take her sweater off, but she pulls down the front of the camisole she wears under it and tucks the material below her bared breasts. Peter’s happy to enjoy the visual while he rubs her over his dick, but she grips the back of his neck and compels his head forward.

“What do you want exactly?” he teases. “I’m a little confused.”

Eye narrowed down at him as she pants, MJ plucks one of his hands from her ass and guides it up to her face. It fucks him up pretty good when she folds down all but two of his fingers, sliding those into her mouth; she sucks with that almost-angry gaze locked on him before bringing his wet fingers down to circle her nipple.

“Ok, ok,” Peter says desperately.

“Just helping.”

A laugh pops out of his mouth, but then he touches his lips to her breast, kissing lightly as she sways. Her hand twitches on the back of his neck. Ok, he thinks again, pulling her nipple between his teeth. MJ moans blissfully and heat floods both Peter’s face and his groin. He jerks roughly against her and clutches her body close when she comes, cradling his face to her chest. There’s still something of the briskness of their walk home to her smell as he inhales against her skin, but also wool and the smoke that’s clung to her after lighting the candles. Her scent is rich. He feels rich, with his arms wrapped around her.

She shimmies her shoulders and the blanket drops. When she slips out of her sweater, Peter rushes to tear his hoodie (and the t-shirt caught up with it) off. MJ halts him in the act of flinging them away; right, candles. Gotta aim for a spot where he won’t start a fire. He unbuttons and unzips his jeans as quickly as he can, gasping in relief at the sudden extra room for the erection bulging beneath his boxers. His plan, as he hooks his thumbs into his waistband, is to yank his clothes down only as far as necessary, then guide MJ back on top of him as soon as she’s out of her sweatpants and pick up where they left off with her first orgasm. But, bottomless, his girlfriend settles on his lap before he’s ready. She shuffles forward, rubbing herself against him, making his boxers damp. Peter closes his eyes as they roll back. His hands skim blindly up her arms to fiddle with the slipping straps of the camisole she still wears—if the way it’s clinging to her from only below her breasts to her navel can be called ‘wearing’.

She kisses his cheek.

“Peter.”

He opens his eyes and watches her tilt her head to speak quietly near his ear. Candlelight seeps over and through her hair. He kisses where it pools on her naked shoulder and her soft breaths form words.

“I want you to bend me over.”

Peter turns his head and groans into MJ’s neck.

Running her fingers through his hair, she asks, “Is that a yes?”

“’Chelle, you say, ‘jump,’ I ask, ‘how high?’” he promises.

He whips a condom out of his pocket. She draws back and smirks at him, eyebrows raised.

“And how did that get in there?”

“I might’ve grabbed it while I was looking for the matches.” When his girlfriend continues to stare at him, he adds, “It’s dark! You were lighting candles! I dunno, MJ, it seemed kinda romantic. Why are you still looking at me like that?”

“You’re cute when you babble.”

“Stop talking,” Peter interprets with a sheepish smile. “Got it.”

She climbs off of him and stuffs the blanket into the corner of the couch while he stands and whisks his jeans and boxers down his legs. He almost trips peeling his socks off because MJ waggles her bare ass at him very unfairly.

“Come on, I’m getting cold.”

“I’m—” he starts, struggling with the condom. “I am… I’m going as fast as… there!”

Peter bounds onto the couch and catches MJ’s face in his hand, kissing her lovingly. Then desperately. Then sloppily pulling away to sneak a hand under the back of her top and press her down until her elbows rest on the arm of the couch. Taking a deep breath, he strokes his other hand from the back of her neck all the way to her ass. This is kinda hot with her shirt still on. He’s glad that, for as much as they discuss and debate things like the misuse of municipal funds on holiday decorations, they’re still in their hasty days. Still young, still eager. He grips himself and flexes his fingers as he traces the head of his dick through MJ’s arousal.

“Getting cold,” she repeats.

“Spider-Man is here to help, ma’am,” he jokes, pushing inside her.

Fuck. Peter works his hips gently forward and back, building up to plunging deeper the same way he tiptoes out into the water when they visit the beach too early in the year. But this isn’t like the chilly springtime ocean because she’s warm as she takes him—so, so warm.

“Uh, MJ? Baby? Sweetheart? I thought you said you were cold,” he grits out.

She presses back against him as he finally thrusts all the way in.

“I always keep the home fires burning for you.”

“Well, that was raunchy. You’ve been living with me too long.”

“How could I ever move out with perks like a December power outage?”

Grinning, Peter begins a loose swing of his hips, gazing down MJ’s back at the shadows and light sliding over the rounded edges of her neck, her shoulder blade, her ear as she tips her head to let her hair hang to the side. When her low moans start, he repositions his knees on the couch cushions and digs in with his toes. The wet smack of driving into her is loud in their little sanctuary. He takes her by the hips as she bows her head to her crossed forearms, moving faster, gliding in and out with more grace than he has when navigating an ice rink with skate blades on his feet. MJ spreads her legs wider and drops her head even lower. She is graceful, with the steep slope of her back that Peter can’t resist pressing a hand to. At his touch, she bends even further and he chokes on an already raspy inhalation.

“Faster, Peter,” she requests.

Not loud, not demanding. She knows he can hear her because he’s always listening for her voice. It coaxes him onward from beneath the urgent slap of his thrusts.

He hunches over her, wrapping one arm around her waist as they buck together, his other hand diving between her legs. She’s soaked and her hips are jumping in time with his, so it’s hard to keep his fingers on her swollen clit. Suddenly, MJ has her hand over his, directing his fingers. Reality grows hazy as pleasure creeps into his thighs and trickles invisibly down his stomach, like the phantom touch of his girlfriend beneath him. Peter squints against the light of their candles and so much feeling, flicking his fingers over the sensitive nub that has MJ’s legs quivering. He kisses her spine and scrapes the edge of her camisole with his teeth. She’s shaking too hard to thrust back. Groaning, Peter bucks in a quick burst, holding her body up as she threatens to slump flat.

“You warm yet?” he huffs. “Show me you’re warm.”

“Peter… almost.”

Abruptly, he sits back on his heels, hauling MJ with him. Sweating now, Peter bounces her on his lap. His hands squeeze the smooth skin of her hips. She gasps before moaning deeply and reaching up to wrap an arm behind his neck, arching against him.

“God,” he mutters, looking down over her shoulder to watch the jiggle of her breasts and the tension of her stomach, “I already want you again.”

Because of his words, or his hands, or his cock slamming up into her, she climaxes, clenching around him and stuttering over his name. Peter buries his nose in her hair to avoid the overpowering scent of the candles as his senses sharpen to the finest point; he’s learned this only happens when he’s lost in either the pain of a grave injury or the satisfaction of releasing into MJ. He pulses, hips snapping, hugging her against his chest, flushed with warmth from the top of his ears to where his toes grip the couch.

“Bath?” Peter pants in her ear, dick still twitching inside her. “I swear I won’t let you get cold.”

Just like that, the overhead light and the lamp on the end table blink on. Huh. Power’s back.

“Or maybe you don’t need me to,” he says.

MJ turns her head and kisses the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t be stupid. I’ll grab the candles. You hit the lights.”