#going full furry with ren this time around

[rayhantochtli]

Misc hermitcraft doodles

[minecraftbookshelf]

One of ?

fanfiction with Limited Life spoilers beneath the cut

And thus ends session one, under the open sky and bright full moon.

On AO3

Entertainment Mountain

The quiet night breeze carried the scent of smoke and ash and cinder from the distant mansion and Cleo smiled, tasting the fruit of her labor. Scar and Bdubs bickered quietly (by their standards) in the torchlight, fighting over something childish. He's on my side, he's touching my blanket, mom, mom, mom.

This was probably not going to be a very long game, she thinks, feeling the weight of the flint and steel in her pocket.

The stitched together skin of her cheek stretches as she smiles, baring her teeth at the moon. Not very long but so much fun.

T.I.E.S.

Skizzleman lay awake after the others dropped off to sleep around him, Tango and Impulse's breathing loud in the darkness. Etho had slipped off after the truce night was announced, fading into the shadows. 

In the dark of the cave, the dim, green glow of the frozen numbers on the back of his hand taunt him. Skizz would swear the green was tinted yellow. Once the morning comes and time starts ticking down again its going to be a matter of time, and so very little of it, before they are actually yellow.  

The first yellow.

At least he has friends to help keep him safe?

Because they did such a good job with the cows.

InTheLittleWood

Martyn digs himself into the side of a hill the instant the halt is announced and his hand-timer stops. He is too far from anyone to safely make it to their camp, and with his boogy kill fresh on everyone's minds he isn't sure he wants to anyway. He'll go find Scott in the morning. Maybe.

This game is weird. Everyone remembers, more clearly than the vague flashes and deja vu. The number of times one of them has tossed out a casual reference to one of the previous games has almost stopped his heart in his chest each time. Usually only Martyn remembers. Martyn and the winner.

He doesn't think they feel them though. The way they talk about it...The laughter and the jokes...they're emotionally disconnected from the games.

It's almost worse then when they don't remember at all.

Everyone remembers in their heads but not their hearts and Ren isn't here and Martyn doesn't know what Game They are playing this time but there is no way it ends well.

Tomorrow he'll go back to the coral reef, tonight, he closes his eyes in the darkness and focuses on breathing.

The Wet Cats Nosy Neighbors

It's familiar and reassuring, the furry, breathing weight on the bed. True, Froggy is smaller than Tilly, and sleeps on top of Pearl rather than beside her, but the added warmth is grounding. Pearl runs her fingers over the cat curled on top of her and stares up at the moon. 

If she focuses on the cat and the moon and the soft breathing of BigB a few blocks away she can ignore the way the smell of the smouldering mansion resembles the smell of tnt. She can ignore the aching emptieness where her heart tells her a thin little soul-cord should be inside her, now that they're back in the games. If she focuses on that little hurt, she can ignore the larger ones.

She can ignore the way the world border glows a purple hue beneath the blue that only she (and one other) can see. She can ignore the way the glowing numbers sear her skin and burrow their way into her Player-soul. She can ignore the way her wings are gone (and Grian's and Jimmy's) and the way she can even now feel the server shifting and settling around her, shaping and changing them all subtly to suit the Story of the Game. The way coral had been emerging from Scott's hair when they met on the mountaintop with Scar's horses, the way that the scars on Skizz's arms seemed to grow deeper.

The way she can feel the desire for chaos creeping at the edge of her mind.

At least she has B. She's not alone this time.

Smajor

It's strange, spending the first night alone. No JimmyPearlCleo nearby. 

He hasn't seen Martyn since the boogy attempt that killed the cows but he's not overly concerned. He'll be back.

Probably.

The grass is half-way across the water now, getting closer the the island. Scott squints at it with a critical eye as he places his bed for the night. Hopefully by the end of next round the whole island will be green. He only has a handful of torches but the door at the entrance to the island, wall-less as it is, marks the threshold he set, a light, cyan glow indicating it, almost invisible this close to the world border. Nothing will get past it. Not tonight. Not mob or player. (Even if players were allowed.) Not uninvited.

There has been a pinching at the corner of his mind ever since his boogy kill. An aura of disappointment and displeasure. That is not how it is supposed to be done. That is not Enough.

Scott throws a middle finger up to the night sky and rolls over, his pillow illumiated by the flickering green sparks around his head.

He's never played these Games on anyone's terms but his own. He's not about to change that now.

The Bad Boys

Joel is stuck.

He'd forgotten that both Jimmy and Grian are nesters because birds. Which means Joel is now a nester by default, whether he wants to be or not.

And Jimmy sleeps like a clingy starfish.

There is an arm under his chin (a few downy feathers tickling his neck) and another wrapped around his own arm and a knee thrown over his shin and all Joel can do is stare up at the night sky and contemplate his existance. Grian isn't even in the nest yet and he already can't move.

Grian is, in fact, perched on the edge of the mansion roof, hunched over like a gargoyle, peering at the blue admin control panel projected in the air over his arm. In the moonlight his eyes almost seem to glint purple.

Joel looks away, back up at the moon. He may not know everything. He may not understand the worried looks that Martyn and Pearl and BigB and Jimmy exchange behind Grian's back. But he understands enough.

And the creeping dread that always lurks beneath in these Games has grown and grown with every boogey re-roll. Every time Grian pulled up the panel to tap away and shape the world they're trapped in. 

He's never done that before. Never so open and blatant. So unapologetic. 

It's the specific flavor of fear that first appeared when tnt under an enchanting table took three lives and Grian laughed, green as grass but still out for blood.

Well. Grian isn't the only dangerous one on the server.

Keep your friends close.

And enemies closer.

[artisticcrow]

Time for Another Break Down Post! All the details of this pic cut below

So if you want to reblog just this pic, go here!

Now then On to the break down!

Let’s start with the star himself Ren:

Now Wolfboy here has a bit going on his design. 

Of course being that he’s wearing his vacation get up with the flowers, glasses, and watch changing color as he looses life I wanted someway to incorporate all of that. 

So please imagine that the glare in his glasses are yellow and red. Also the outer petals of the flower are red and yellow while the inner are that true pink and then of course the center being the light blue of the shirt itself. He has a flower bracelet that has all three traffic colors and those colors also show up in small bars on his watch!

This design of Ren has several scars to represent his deaths both in DL and from 3L and LL as well. With the most prominent one being the dripstone scar the cracked open the top of his forehead! 

Speaking of which if you look above him and the moon, on top of the pic there are in fact some dripstone there.

Ren has three pins on his design, two on his suspenders and one on the collar of his button up. A Prince Frog pin to reference how he found Big B, A log on fire for the summoning ceremony, and a cookie, once again for his Soulmate.

He has many things attach to his belt that I best make an itemized list from left to right. 1. A bunch of “summoning” candels that hand around his side and back that are clearly just Yankee candel with lead wrapped around them. 2. Sugar Cane in a holster because he earned what he stole and grew. 3. A sheath dagger for his diamond sword. 4. A bundle of wheat from the home garden that he can use to make bread, and 5. a curved goat horn.

Bonus he has has a crown for a belt buckle. Is the royal season rising or is it just a princely curse?

Final notes is that Ren is a very harry boi with sharp claws and he has furry dog legs.

Now onto Martyn;

Martyn here is an Ocelot becuase it was too funny to let it go that he logged into the wrong skin, though of course his MCC outfit has changed just a little bit.

I am a big fan of the Celestial Bodies as Life Series Championships and tbh the whole Martyn as the Ocean thing while makes sense in isolation really doesn’t make sense with the theming, so instead I counter it with making him a Comet. And before anyone says anything comets often are in the ocean and due often contain water.

But if you really are stuck on the Ocean theming I feel like the entire Earth instead of just the ocean or a water theming planet like Neptune should work.

Now Martn here has a lot of hearts through his theming, from his jacket to his sword he is the broken heart he lives in. He also claimed to be a modern artist, not someone whose bring down the property value like many in the neighborhood watch complained. 

So of course he has his artist apron full of brushes and the like and a pallet shield to protect himself. 

He’s also the only one in the pick all but grasping at his soul unlike the others whose soul floats above their hands. Grasping for connection to betray. Like the Cornflower from Cleo he has proudly on his jacket or the Moon charm on his Sword.

Idk where else I’m going to put this but he dose in fact have a horn and telescope hidden in his side just hanging in there. 

Tbh whenever I didn’t know what to do with certain area’s of his design, I just ref’ed his Vtuber model and compared it a picture of an Ocelot.

All halo’s by a portal design listening behind him

Funfact; all of the Broken Hearts Club Members have a Spiked Band with a Demon charm on it, Ren’s is covering his Beheading Scar from 3L making a choker, Pearls is openly on her wrist, and Martyn’s- Martyn’s is on the mirroring wrist, turned away and hidden, the charm blocked by His Hand.

Now onto Pearl’s Design!

The Champion herself of course is a crescent tailed demoness, but she’s wearing a red wolf’s cloak.

I really went hard into the Fairytale theming for Pearl, like sure the other two have vague hints here and there, but here it’s just everywhere.

From her witch esq clothing to her Golden Apple in a Bottle, I just had fun.

But of course beware as she does have her nasty fishing rod and sword behind her back as well. She has a dark blue vest over her white dress to contrast her redlife cloak. Which ref’s her starting skin and red life skin she switched to early on.

Over all it’s a more simpler design that I had real fun putting together.

Though it did come with some regrets, such as me wishing I had the room to make the ink around her moon’s cloud thicker and maybe given Scott’s soul a bunch of cracks rather the matching blank I went with.

I gave her waaaaay more eyes than Martyn as she watched way more.

A couple final details

Connected to Ren’s Soul is of course his Soulmate which is rotating around the sun with another Soul whose bond is leading off picture.

Matryn’s annoying paw shoes where only possible due to the amount of color and shapes in his mcc shoes.

Bdubs and Impulse are holding hands while their souls are broken broken but still bonded directly below Ren. My man wanted to avenge his Soulmate and thus he get’s a little silly goof as a treat. 

And Finally while I am not showing you the pic again; please know that Ren’s pole axe was a Time[Negative] to draw. 

Just a whole time right there.

[m-y-fandoms]

COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 2

Part 1

This is gonna be many more parts... I can already tell 

Word Count: 2.2k

SFW, SLOW BURN romance friends to lovers, gender neutral reader, anyone can enjoy it and place themselves as the reader!

- Admin Myah

You spent your entire free period up on that roof, hoping by some miracle that you weren’t crazy, that the group of second-year students that had seemingly vanished before your eyes were in fact pranking you, and upon seeing that you weren’t amused, would get tired of hiding and pop out, finishing the surprise. No such luck, however, and so you left, the second-period bell forcing your hand. Spending the first period of your day - a bit of free time meant for studying, finishing homework, or otherwise enriching yourself educationally - up on the roof and unaccounted for by any teachers was a bit risky already, and you were a decent enough student. There was no way you could just sit there all day, skipping the rest of your classes. Sighing, you resolved to just give up the hunt for your destined main character and by extension the group of potential new friends.

＊

Often after school, you headed to the library, which stayed open along with a select few other areas of Shujin for student use after the last bell rang. Today, however, you felt drawn back to that place, back to that rooftop where you’d seen Akira, Ryuji, and Ann disappear hours earlier. It just wasn’t sitting right with you; you felt a stirring in your soul, like a tiny voice in your head, a shimmering blue butterfly in your stomach. Lucky for you, the rooftop was also open, though you’d never really spent time there. Certain students, including another third-year you admired raised plants up there where the sun could reach them, while others simply came up there for the view or the breeze, some private space to study.

Today, the breeze was indeed blowing, and you sat there writing as it whistled past your ears, polishing up some plot points, scrawling down ideas for your protagonist straight from the imagination, since it seemed you wouldn’t be finding any real-life inspiration anytime soon. It was frustrating, writer’s block, and for the past month or so, it’s all you could do to write a single paragraph. You always found yourself lost in the pages of the novels you loved, and you could identify great writing, appreciate the artistry of another writer, but it was sometimes so hard to put your own thoughts down on the pages of your journal. Why was it so hard? You knew what real romance was. You knew which themes and cliches were overdone and unrealistic. You had a mature and healthy outlook on real relationships and could pick apart the stereotypical female protagonist who was strong and independent until she met the man who would break down her walls or the toxic bad boy who women loved on paper but would cry their eyes out over in real life. You’d read thousands of books and fan-fiction, listened to hundreds of audiobooks, watched tons of romance movies, so why, lately, was it not clicking?! Where was the disconnect between having thoughts and transcribing said thoughts down into your very own masterpiece? Fantasy came so easily to you, sci-fi, non-fiction essays for class, mysteries, research papers, but romance, the genre you loved the most, seemed to purposely elude you.

You were shaken out of your frazzled state when something caught your attention out of the corner of your eye. Shaking your head a bit to try and focus your vision, you looked over your shoulder to see that the black spot on the fringe of your blind spot was in fact actually there. You rubbed your eyes just to be sure, but there it was, a wavering black inky spot hovering in the air. Another appeared, then another, now red in color. You were beginning to feel insane for the second time that day, but rather safe than sorry, you quickly stood, shoving your work and pencils into your bag and shuffling away from the blobs, which were now oscillating and dancing around each other, phasing in and out of existence like a fisheye lens. This was a bit too freaky for your liking, and you were beginning to feel a frightening chill up your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and you elected to put some kind of barrier of safety between yourself and the floating bubbles. Like any rational person, your mind was screaming “unknown situation: possible threat: run!” but again, that little butterfly in the pit of your guts was saying there was something worth staying for. So, running to the door to the roof, you swung it open, a ringing in your ear starting to buzz and chime. You closed it frantically, pressing your nose up against the small glass windows that allowed a limited view of the roof. A small gasp escaped your lips, and you instinctively grabbed onto your bag a bit tighter.

The red and black splotches began to dissipate and fade like some kind of glitch in reality, and three figures appeared like mist, like ghosts before beginning to solidify and slowly become tangible silhouettes. Then, as if some kind of magic ritual was coming to a close, the figures poofed into existence, and your brain processed the scene before you.

“Holy shit…” you whispered. There, clear as day were Sakamoto, Takamaki, and the new kid. They were just standing adjusting their clothes, stretching their arms and legs, situating their personal items. It was just then that you saw a little furry head poke up out of Akira’s school bag. Your harsh, analytical gaze softened a bit upon seeing the small black cat that appeared. Had he been carrying that cat around all day? Surely not, right? How would he keep it quiet and still? “What the…?” The inquisitive glare returned to your features when they began… speaking to the cat. It wasn’t the cute baby talk people often use with their pets, either. It was a full-on, serious conversation, and the cat was meowing back, clearly, in response to their statements.

It was a bit muffled by the thick door, but you could make out bits and pieces.

 Metaverse? Palace. Shadows... treasure? Kamoshida? Great, that asshole, but what could he have to do with this? What even was this? 

You were questioning everything you knew. You were wondering if the juice you had this morning at breakfast was spiked. There was no winning in this scenario, either you were crazy, or these kids were. You looked downward, contemplating your navel as your mind tried to make sense of the events of today. You glanced up again, trying to eavesdrop a little better, get some more detail. You took a step closer, trying to will the sound of their voices through the door to be just a little louder, just a little clearer, when Sakamoto suddenly pivoted, stretching and cracking his spine with a sigh.

“Gah!”  You shouted out. His eyes met yours through the window and widened like a kid caught in the cookie jar. You jumped with a start, taking a cautionary step back and nearly tumbling down the stairs. It was a miracle you caught yourself in time, but your little outburst had definitely caught the attention of the group. Your cover was thoroughly blown. “Oh, no…” You cursed under your breath, spotting both Ann and Akira’s eyes on you now as well.

“Shit! Do you think they saw?” Ryuji’s hands flew to his hair, mussing and working out his frustrations on the dyed strands while simultaneously, Akira was already in motion, rushing toward the door to apprehend the unwelcome listener.

Your heartbeat sped up, and like a gazelle spotted by a lion, a fire was lit under you and you began to sprint, clumsily fumbling down the stairwell and onto the flat platform where the stairs rotated 90 degrees and continued downward. Inhaling sharply, your foot, nervous and supporting jelly-like legs, missed the final step. Your belongings, along with your body, spilled across the square, flat platform, and the door behind you slammed open.

“Hey!” Akira’s yell echoed through the stairwell, and your thoughts bounced off the walls just like his voice. Scrambling, you scooped only the essentials into your hands: your journal, the phone of course, a few homework binders, ditching the easily replaceable items like chewing gum and pencils. Taking to one scraped-up knee and ready to bolt, you felt a hand close upon your bicep and clamp down firmly. “Hey, hey… slow down.” Akira again, now gentler with his tone, spun you around to face him. You stood clutching your things to your chest like a life preserver. “I’m not gonna like… kill you or anything.” A breathy chuckle, and now he was on the platform next to you, scanning you up and down for injuries with his hands in his pockets. “So, uh… so don’t kill yourself by fallin’ down these stairs, huh?” He played off the tense feeling in the air with humor, but the sheer proximity of him, standing there in front of you mere inches away in the cramped space, it was like you could hear your blood pounding in your ears.

What was he thinking right now? Did he think you were some weirdo stalker? I mean, you’d just met him this morning and now you were watching him through a small window like a creep after school… after following him there. Wait, that wasn’t important right now! Was he going to kill you? He didn’t seem like the type of guy to do that, but then again, he didn’t seem like the type to phase in and out of existence either… neither did Ryuji and Ann… what were people with powers like that capable of?

Right now, you were just going to mind your business, and play it safe. It wasn’t worth getting mixed up with people who warp through a “metaverse” and talk to animals just for some good writing material, not if it turned out to be dangerous.

“Well…” you hesitated, “it’s none of my business, what I just saw, and I won’t tell anyone.” You breathed a little easier, tried to regain your composure, to not look too weak.

“So they did see! Awww, shit!” Ryuji’s head popped through the door, interrupting the uncomfortable conversation, and the hot air of the enclosed space was cut through by a gust of wind from the now open rooftop door.

“Now, just hold on, Ryuji,” Akira held out one hand to placate his rather temperamental friend.

“No, no really it’s fine that you talk to your… cat and just… vanish... and I’m sure it’s all fine and multiverse-y and…”

“Metaverse.” Akira corrected you with a small smile, bending down to pick up the rest of your scattered objects.

“Dude!” Ryuji ran a hand down his face in defeat.

“They saw us, no point in being tight-lipped,” he stood, handing them to you.

“Metaverse… right,” you took them, watching every move he made carefully. “Sorry, I’m… a bit more... eloquent in my writing,” you moved to the side, ready to sneak past and descend the rest of the stairs. Anything to get on with your day and escape this unbelievable situation. Akira shuffled, mirroring you and completely blocking the stairwell. There was something clever about him, something sharp and charismatic. He knew exactly what he was doing, what he wanted to achieve, and he knew how to calmly and smoothly execute his plans, unlike Sakamoto, who was far less… organized.

“Writing…?” He was keeping you locked into this conversation, as gently and amiably as he could, and you were not leaving until he was sure he could trust your word.

“Uh… yeah, that’s why I was up…” your eyes met his, quickly recoiling and looking toward the floor again, “...up on the roof. I was just looking for a quiet place to write.”

“What, uh, what kind of stuff do you write?” Ann had now joined Ryuji at the top of the stairs, leaving you feeling completely caged in. Ann threw Akira - who seemed like the leader of the small band of misfits - a desperate glance, a sort of look that seemed to ask: “Where are you going with this? Are we screwed?”

“It’s… it’s kind of private. It’s just… romance stuff. I don’t know, I do all kinds of different stuff, whatever I’m in the mood for.” Akira nodded, more to his friends than you, something you had a feeling you weren’t supposed to pick up on. He stuck his hand out flat, gesturing toward the rooftop behind you. You took the hint, heading a bit anxiously back up the stairs, Ryuji and Ann making way for you.

“You any good?” Akira followed behind you, and now on the rooftop once again, the cool air felt freeing, less constricting, though his question felt a bit insulting, a bit nosey.

“I don’t know… I’ve been told I am…” The three friends took a seat in areas that seemed very familiar to them, like they’d been up here warping in and out of this realm many times before. Now settled into place, Ann spoke up, obviously as apprehensive as you were:

“Well do you… do you think…?” Her high-pitched voice seemed to be hesitant, not yet confident in her next words, not sure if they were all on the same page.

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly,” Akira smirked as if the three had one mind. He turned to you, trying to make eye contact that you vehemently avoided. “How would you feel about helping us out?”

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

I posted 2,448 times in 2021

207 posts created (8%)

2241 posts reblogged (92%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 10.8 posts.

I added 629 tags in 2021

#adam driver - 155 posts

#kylo ren - 90 posts

#adamdriver - 67 posts

#clyde logan - 58 posts

#flip zimmerman - 55 posts

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Longest Tag: 137 characters

#i’m sorry this is the last post i’m doing y’all i’ve been blowing shit up i need to do actual things and i’m avoiding them because dadddy

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Afternoon Delight

A/N: Hey everyone! I finally have another update for these two! We’re thankfully out of the drama that was Woodstock and headed to prep for the last half of this lil’ novella! I hope everyone has enjoyed it so far! So much more to come! As always please lmk if you would like to be added or removed from this taglist and as always, ya girl has songs added into this chapter that are linked and on my Flip Playlist located in my Masterlist. Thank you all and I love the support and love on here! I will update again when I have the time! 

Warnings: face fucking, Dom!Flip, gagging/choking/coughing, aftercare (because our soft mach man can’t stand not taking care of us), mentions of floofs (we do something... naughty), mentions of BJ’s, mentions of handjobs, mentions of children, dirty talk, slight daddy kink (not very much and it’s not DDLG), smut smut smut and more SMUT, cum swallowing, cum eating, diddling your own skittle, copious amounts of fluff, and a dash of razzle dazzle

(6 months later) 

The sun peeked through the ivory curtains, revealing the chirping birds and the alarm clock as it sounded through the quiet room. 

“Mmmm,” you mumbled under a mess of crisp sheets and a down comforter, feeling out for the ringing on the nightstand to switch it off, “Ugh, fuck, Phil,” you groaned, knowing full well he had set the alarm so you’d wake up at a better time than you previously would alone. 

Your messy hair appearing from under the clouds of pillows to punch the clock off, rubbing your tired eyes as you stretched out to see the glorious morning showing through your huge window. After the drama-filled weekend in Bethel, Flip insisted you move in. The truck halted at your house in a frenzy as he loaded boxes of your stuff into the dusty tailgate to which you offered help but were snubbed because he was a man for God’s sake and couldn’t have you lift a pinky even if he did need assistance. 

It was both endearing and suffocating to have such a macho man in your presence, but of course, you got used to it as the months trudged on. He was so helpful, making coffee in the morning before the sun rose, chopping wood in the backyard for the gorgeous fireplace in the living room, and you returned the favors by being the doting wife-to-be. Decorating the house with kitschy knick-knacks, throws, pillows, and shifting the vibe to become more ‘homey’ as you called it. Flip had never been one to decorate, nor knew what a down comforter was before you both went shopping for one on his very few days off. 

______________

“Honey, why would we get a white bed?” he gestured to the set you’d been eyeing in the department store for months, the matching sheets a crisp white as well, “this has got to be the worst color to pick,” he groaned, rubbing his goatee as you smoothed out the display, motioning the checker over to ring up the prices for you.

“It’s the style I’m going for, cowboy,” winking at him and looking around for some accent pillows, curtains to match, and a rug to put the whole room together, “it’s gonna go so perfect with the wood in the bedroom honey, I promise!” gripping his shirt collar to drag him down for a kiss. 

“Please?” whining with puppy eyes as you made him feel a furry pillow you’d been holding, “we can stain test it if you let me buy it?” biting your lip as you set the pillow in his arms. 

He rolled his eyes, picking the back pocket of his jeans where his wallet laid and handed you the cash to get whatever you felt would decorate the room the best.

“This,” he flailed the money in your lit-up face, “is your budget honey,” glowing amber eyes staring into your smile as he handed it to you. You squealed, turning around to find the rest of the accents to compliment the bedding and settling on just enough to fix it up just right for you and him. 

This, of course, was how you got the entire house decorated the correct way. Buttering him up with dirty ideas, hand jobs in the car rides to various places, the occasional road-head when needed for a large purchase like the sectional couch that adorned your living room. 

“Can I smoke in here?” he panted, sweating from the price tag of the couch, “fuck it I’m gonna do it, holy fuckin’ shit,” grunting as he lit a filter in the showroom, feeling relief as he saw the salesman light one at his desk before approaching you both with the numbers. 

“Honey don’t you worry,” patting his thick chest as he exhaled a plume away from your face, “I’ll give you a nice sloppy one on it once we get it home,” tugging his collar as you kissed that special spot on his ear, sending shivers all the way to his dick. He loved it when you went shopping for this shit, but of course wasn’t going admit it for fear he’d go bankrupt over the carnal sex you were having. It was all a give and take dance, after all.

The wedding preparations were also going fairly smoothly. You’d both decided the best place to ‘do the deed’ would be in an outdoor setting, booking a gorgeous Cheyenne Mountain Campground for the hoards of guests who had been RSVPing since the invites had been sent out. 

The wedding dress you’d picked was found out of the blue when walking down the street past a local shop. The gown was a perfect ivory tone, the lace cinching just right in the fitting for alterations. It was a vision and it made you and your mother cry when she visited from out of town to see her daughter try it on. 

Things were just perfect. Flip was perfect. The house was perfect. The wedding was coming together in every way. A sigh of relief since the Woodstock incident.

_______________

You finally got out of bed after your second round of coffee, enjoying the spring morning as you sipped and read a few chapters of a book. You had put on The Led Zeppelin album via the record player in the living room. The echoing of the guitar riffs floating in an effervescence through the home as you danced on the hardwood floors. 

You went to turn on the shower, singing along to Stairway To Heaven, seeing the steam emanating from the glass box as the water heated to the perfect temperature. You loved your morning showers, taking the time and effort to wash every nook and cranny as it had been most likely railed the night before in a sweaty fervor of teeth, tongue, and inevitable cock shoving. You had to make sure you were perfect. Not just for him, but yourself. That’s the one thing your relationship with him had brought out. 

In the previous years, you were always worried about the pleasure and satisfaction of everyone around you, bowing and catering to every whim a boyfriend asked for. Losing yourself in their personalities and suffering as you cowered in your low self-esteem. But with Flip, it was wholly different. 

He was as independent as one could get. Survived on very little and bowed to no other person to get ahead in life. He was tough, rigid, and knew what he wanted out of life. His tenacity struck a chord with you. His drive made you want to be better for him and even more so, for yourself. Whether he knew it or not, he changed how you saw yourself. You would wake up in the morning feeling a better sense of purpose, shying away from the temptations of being absolutely rebellious, and focusing on things that made you happy and a better person. 

Hell, he even changed his stubborn ways… mostly. He learned to be patient with you, to take you as you were, and to love you with everything he had, which wasn’t hard for him. 

So, you cherished being life partners. Loving the cozy little home you’d made together, the laughs, the love, the sex, and the very few fights. It was just kismet. 

“What should we do today, Y/N?” sipping your third cup of coffee as you glazed over the guest list, making sure to check off the people who had mailed in more RSVPs the day prior. 

You picked up the ads in the paper after going through the list for the final time, folding it so you could look for a decent catering company to go up to the grounds and serve the wedding. You glazed over them, looking for signs of any restaurant offering deals when you came upon something. 

“Oh my god,” putting a fingernail in your mouth to bite it, looking at the ad staring you in the face, “Y/N don’t fucking,” grabbing the scissors to cut the thing out of the newspaper. 

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93 notes • Posted 2021-02-01 22:01:10 GMT

#4

Restraint

Pat + Five Dollar Footlong + 🌽

Ily

JUST CALL ME THE CORNCOB QUEEN BECAUSE IMA MAKE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE BOYS COBBLE US IF IT KILLS ME... 

@butyoudidthis4what​ YOU ASKED FOR IT NOW TAKE IT LIKE A GOOD GIRL FOR ME 🥴

“Honey?” your sweet husband called from the bedroom having just arrived home from a long shift at the station. 

He came in straining. His shoulders tense, his neck wrung, and even more apparent his cock ached. Pressing on the inside of his slacks, listing lazily to the left as he kept tucking it in through the duration of his shift. 

Everything he had seen that day reminded him of you. The faint smell of your perfume lingering in his nose from earlier that morning as he kissed your forehead goodbye. The thought of your naked body encased in those soft sheets as you slept in while he trudged in the cold to work. The warm embrace of the shower caressing your form as his hands would have if it were a weekend morning. It all was overwhelming his mind the majority of the day. 

He couldn’t wait to get home. With every tick of his watch, he became giddier at the thought of you crying underneath him as he railed into you, the headboard knocking the paint off the wall in the bedroom as he reveled in your want for him.

And tonight when he walked in the door, seeing you in that curve-hugging dress you wore around the house to do odds and ends things, he nearly came in his pants. He knew you weren’t wearing underwear. You never did when you were home alone, bearing that glistening cunt for the whole house to see as you did your chores and cooked up a storm. He didn’t notice a bra either given the stiff peaks that rose when you opened the fridge to grab some minced garlic for the pasta dish you were slaving over. 

He wanted to grab you. Wanted to bend you over the counter while he pulled that little dress up to reveal the globe of an ass you had underneath and smack the skin until it was raw with raised prints. 

He was feral for you. The sweat beginning the bead on his forehead as he gulped a swig of water from the sink in the bathroom. His disheveled face staring him back in the mirror as he removed his layers, leaving him in his trademark t-shirt and tented boxers. 

The fabric catching on his glistening tip as he tried to adjust himself for the dozenth time, giving in after the pep talk he gave himself in the mirror. 

That’s when you heard his timid voice call you. That sweet song of his as he beckoned you to the bedroom. 

“Yes, baby?” singing back in a melody that made his cock twitch, “what is it? I’m kinda busy making-,” you couldn’t even finish as you took in the scene before you. Your poor husband, completely spent as he heaved out breaths from his thick chest, his erection so apparent it pained you upon looking at it peaking from his briefs. 

“Oh my sweet baby,” you pandered, crossing your legs as you leaned in on the doorframe, “did someone miss me today?” walking in strides over to him as his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. 

You traced a finger down his jawline, neck, encircling a nipple as it strained in his t-shirt, and then finally gripping the elastic on his boxers. Breathing slightly on the side of his head, your lips ghosted his earlobe. He shuddered at the feeling of you, inhaling a deep breath as he took in that floral scent of yours, practically on the cusp of cumming again. 

“Is there something… special… you’d like to do to me, honey?” begging him to take you with everything he had. Kissing along his neck as he tried to formulate the right words, gripping your ass as he ground himself on you with a low grunt. 

“Use your words, honey,” voice just above a whisper as he kissed the side of your neck, the fire stoking in your spine as he touched you more and more. 

“Take this fucking thing off before I rip it to shreds,” growling into your shoulder blade as he bit it just enough to hurt slightly.

“Yes sir,” winking as you backed up removing the garment with a show, of course, shaking your hips to make your tits bounce in the air, gasping and fanning your hair out as you dropped it on the floor. 

“This better?” inching your way to him as he strained another set of breaths, his patience wearing very thin at this point. 

“Almost,” he whispered, ghosting over your collarbone as he ate your figure with a thousand-yard stare, “I want you to get on your knees and beg for my cock, Y/N,” the words leaving faster than his brain could comprehend as he pouted his lips looking at you. 

You smirked, the goosebumps forming on your body as you reveled in his domineering behavior. This was rare for him to be so forward, and when it happened it felt like Christmas.

Getting down on your knees with an eagerness, you looked up at him as innocent as you could muster, showing him your open mouth while he gazed down at you. The angle showing his thick cock in the best way as you salivated for it.  

“Just like this?” fluttering your lashes as you wiggled your ass like a puppy, his hand gripping his heavy sac watching you be the best girl for him. 

“Take my pants off,” he grunted, feeling your delicate hands pull them down in one fail swoop as his member bobbed in your face. It hooked to the left in a flush of magenta as it strained for release. His huge balls dangling your face as you took in his weeping tip, the white contrasting with the angry red as it dripped for you. 

As you reached for him, the electricity pulsing through your body while you followed his gaze. The sudden feeling of his tip slapping the side of your face sending you into a blacked-out state of shock. You reached for your cheek, feeling the precum that slid on the skin as you scooped it in your fingers. 

“Holy shit,” he whispered, looking frightened as you met his line of vision, “honey I’m so sorry I-I don’t know what came over me I-I,” not able to finish as you sucked the spend off yourself in a sloppy kiss and a pop. 

“Do that shit again,” a devilish smile painting your face as you strained your neck to meet the tip of his cock, “come on baby, slap me a little harder than that… I can take it,” the tingling moving straight to your cunt as he gulped another breath down.

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94 notes • Posted 2021-02-04 23:56:15 GMT

#3

Sackler, my love. Sackler. I neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed him to give me a little slap or a few. I'll let you and Sackler decide..

A/N: @mariesackler I LITERALLY CANNOT WITH YOU... I HOPE YOUR CUNT IS AS SLICKED UP AS MINE WAS WHEN I WROTE THIS. I LOVEY OU MOST MY DARLING!

Warnings: Cock slapping, face fucking, cum eating, cum swallowing, using cum as lipgloss if that’s a warning?, all of the cum I can fit in to one fic, mentions of huge cocks (horsecocks if you will), DOM!Sackler, degradation, slight edging, slight breeding kink, doggystyle, dirty talk, stuffing like an Xmas turkey, just all of the smut possible, a little fluff at the end for my baby 

*SNAP* 

‘My kitty misses you baby 😘’ 

*Three bubbles immediately popping up* 

‘When I get home, you had better be on your knees waiting for me, kid’ 

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach as your cunt clenched the open air. Your smirk staring through your phone as you marveled at the skill and lighting it took just to send a simple picture.

You bit your lip, bringing a finger to them as you rubbed the moist skin, looking at your closet to figure out what to wear to impress him even more. 

He was out on an audition, the prepping before meaning there was no horsing around or funny business to be had. He had to get into the zone, going over his lines endlessly, even dressing in character to nail it down just right. 

The pent up tension was too much for you. It had been two weeks. TWO WEEKS. Since he touched you, made you feel utterly full of him while he whispered sweet nothings over your sated figure. 

You missed the sound of the headboard knocking, the smell of his musk wafting through your nose as his sweat would drip over your tits while he fucked you into oblivion. 

His dirty words would have you moaning like an absolute whore for his cock. You were practically on the verge of tears as you got up from the bed, rifling through your clothes while your body shook in the open air of the bedroom. 

You slipped on a lace number, the cleavage spilling out the top of it in the best way as you tightened the straps of the garter belt, your thighs looking extra plump as the curve of your ass hugged the thong in a sinful way.

You finished the look with a killer red lip, smacking your mouth together to spread the gorgeous color that paired so perfectly with your garb. You tapped your foot, glaring at yourself in the mirror to decide whether or not you’d finish the masterpiece off by wearing his favorite pumps. The ones that he stated ‘made you look like his favorite pornstar’ had been sitting collecting dust since the beginning of the year, begging to be worn. 

“Oh, what the hell,” you relented, sauntering over to place them on your feet, then admiring your figure in the mirror, “Mhmmm, yes ma’am,” you playfully smacked your own ass, satisfied with this plan as you glanced at the time on the clock. 

He’d be home any minute now. You readjusted your tits in the mirror, puckering your lips to make sure nothing had gotten out of place, and clicked over to the front door, situating yourself like the good girl you were. 

The burning sensation in your pelvis a full-on flame as you heard his heavy footfalls climbing the stairway. You jumped a little, so excited you’d taken this chance to rile him up, waiting in anticipation for what he was going to punish you with for being such a bad girl.

The key turned in the lock, his heavy body pushing it open, his head hanging low looking at the knob while he slammed it tight, locking the deadbolt before dropping his messenger back with a thud. 

He let out a heavy breath, running a hand through his hair as he threw the keys in the bowl, then turned around to find you perched looking so delicious. 

“My lil’ brat does take orders,” he growled, his t-shirt hugging his taut muscles as he surveyed his prize in front of him, “doesn’t mean I’m not gonna punish you for makin’ me all hard before my audition.” 

You whined, watching his long legs come in front of you, doe eyes gazing up at his dilated pupils, “I know I was a bad girl, baby,” putting your hands behind your back while you arched your back to show your jugs to him, “I deserve everything you’re gonna give me,” showing your tongue as you wiggled your ass for him.

“Such a lil’ slut I have,” he cooed, running a thick finger down the bridge of your nose, showing it in your mouth as he watched those cherry red lips suck them feverishly, “so fuckin’ needy for my cock,” your whines emitting from deep in your belly as he pulled his digits in a pop from your face. 

He chuckled darkly, taking his shirt off to reveal his thick body, undoing his belt and his fly as you watched hungrily. His cock popped out like a jack in the box, the springing making it bob deliciously in front of you as the tip wept a thick bead of precum. You licked your lips unconsciously, your tongue falling out again as you moaned from the sight. 

“You want me to fuck your face that bad?” he ran a thick hand up and down the shaft, inching closer as it touched your waiting tongue ever so slightly, a single tear falling down your cheek in anticipation. 

Just as you thought you’d get a release, he whipped the side of your face as hard as he could with his member, the stinging of it radiating as you audibly cried from the blow. 

He reveled in your cries for him, grabbing your face with his free hand as he wiped a tear from the other cheek, “you’re gonna take my whole cock, kid,” pushing your uninjured side to face him and slapping you with his dick to match, “and you’re gonna swallow like the good whore you are,” bringing your half bitten lip to line a precum coating over the lipstick. 

You nodded, black streams mixing with the raised bumps on your cheeks as you glazed your lips with him. 

“Open that fucking mouth,” he commanded, watching your gaze meet his, barely giving you any time to breathe as he bottomed out to your windpipe. 

The sensation taking you aback as you gagged around him, his hands finding clumps of your hair while he held you still on his pubic bone. He mused at your moans, feeling your tongue graze his shaft, your lips pulse on his base, and the feeling of your hair in his fingers. 

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107 notes • Posted 2021-02-07 01:40:39 GMT

#2

A Tight Squeeze

A/N: You all can blame @contesa-lui-alucard for this monstrosity... I literally am in love with this character now and I will never stop... I slept on him SO hard and I REGRET IT! Thank you for the inspiration and this fic is so self indulgent I wish Pat was my true baby daddy... Enjoy loves!🖤

Warnings: tw: pregnancy, tw: pregnancy kink, obscene amounts of marital fluff and love, tw: breeding kink, tw: unprotected sex, tw: doggystyle, tw: very slight edging, tw: body image, tw: slight depression (regarding body image and self esteem), lots of fluff (because Pat is fluffy), tw: daddy kink, tw: hair pulling, creampies (I mean when am I NOT doing a creampie?) a smidgen of Dom!Pat because I CANNOT control myself

(PLZfor the love of Satan lmk if I miss a tag or TW... I am only human and I make errors all the time)

“Goddammit!” you practically cried, seeing the thousandth piece of clothing you owned barely fitting around your new curves. The look of defeat and sorrow running across your pretty face from the mirror as you twisted and turned to somehow wish the new poundage away.

“Honey?” a sheepish voice called from the kitchen in your quaint home, his heavy footfalls coming steadily as he padded back to your bathroom.

His precious features gracing the floor-length mirror as he crowded the edge of the molding on the frame of the closet.

He gasped slightly, surveying the scene before him. His cock stirred in his jeans as he appraised your body, the new planes from the growing baby inside you making you glow with an effervescence he had never seen before.

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he caught his breath, your tits plunging out of the small tank top, bouncing as you frustratingly tried to pull it over your growing bump, to no avail as the bottom half and your belly button poked from under the hemline.

The leggings barely fitting on your thighs as they clutched onto your globe of an ass. He wished on all the stars that you couldn’t fit into your underwear and had forgone them all together so he could rip the seam and go to town on your backside.

“Pat,” you whined his name, running your hands over your belly, clearly upset you had a dwindling wardrobe as the days progressed.

“I need to get some new stuff honey,” your pretty lips going into a full pout as the tears rolled down your cheeks. You never had any reason to feel as unattractive as you had just now. He had never given you any indication he didn’t think you were the most beautiful creature on this planet. In fact, when he and you had found out about the baby, he was completely overjoyed and more touchy than he had ever been in the years he’d been married to you.

His feral instincts had kicked into hyperdrive when he became a father-to-be. Making sure you were well taken care of in all aspects including but not limited to cleaning, cooking, foot rubs, nightly baths, and of course reading poetry to you and your unborn son as he grew bigger and bigger.

He loved every detail of it. The gross and good parts, and ebbed and flowed with every single mood swing and nauseous feeling you had. He was the perfect husband, and here he was, looking at you as if you were the most gorgeous goddess he had ever seen. In fact, you were to him, no matter how many times he had been in utter disbelieve that you gave him the time of day let alone let him fuck you three or more times a day.

“Okay baby,” he cooed, coming over to wrap you in the biggest hug he could, rubbing your back as you sobbed over this minor detail in your pregnancy.

He hushed and rocked you, petting your hair, while you inhaled his fresh scent, rubbing your face in his cotton t-shirt as he whispered the sweetest nothings into your ear.

“It’s gonna be okay honey,” he murmured, “you still look absolutely perfect to me my sweet love,” the words making you tear up even more as he kept with his praises.

“You’re absolutely amazing,” his chorus kept going, the baby suddenly joining in the party as he kept talking, “we both think you are, mama,” the sobs catching in your throat as your son kicked a series in your stomach, his low baritone only encouraging the movements as he kept on.

“In fact, I think mama could use a nice bath and something sweet to eat… What do you think?” he arched back to see your head pop up from its place, his precious smirk making you smile with glassy eyes while you nodded.

“That’s exactly what I think too,” kissing your forehead with the lightest effort, “okay, go get out of these, and I’ll get it going for you, deal?” his eyebrows raised as he ran a hand over the expanse of your bump, cradling underneath while you wiped your cheeks off with your hands.

He kissed over your face before heading to the bathroom to run the tub, the lavender scent emanating as the water filled the basin.

You struggled out of your clothing, cursing the companies who made your clothes as you did so. You felt like burning them in a fire or ripping them to shreds but settled on maturity rather than violence as the clothes weren’t the issue.

Your body ached from the weight of everything. The baby of course wasn’t your average-sized fetus, being that his father was a whopper when he was born. You never assumed, however, that he could be as heavy as he felt the more he grew inside you. And you also didn’t take into account the toll his size would take on yourself as the months dragged on. But willful ignorance is what you went with, and with that came karma in its truest form.

No matter how much you hurt and complained, you loved your boys, size and all, and you knew you wouldn’t do this for any man except for your precious Pat.

He was truly just the best partner in every sense of the word. And this simple gesture of making sure you practiced some self-care was his way, amongst many, of showing you how much he appreciated the sacrifices you were making for him and your growing family.

You waded into the steaming water, the enveloping hug of warmth shrouding your emotional state into numbness as the floral notes caressed your senses. This was heavenly, you thought, submerging your body as far as possible into the water, the top of your belly poking out like a small island in the ocean as you relaxed.

You closed your eyes, trying to take in the serenity, rubbing slow circles on the sides of your taut stomach as the baby relaxed within you.

Your meditation was so deep after a few minutes, you never heard Pat come in to check on you.

His hand found the exposed skin, calloused fingers enveloping it in a heated touch as he whispered to you, “how are we doing now mama?” he cooed, his soft smile in the warm light bringing you to tears again.

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124 notes • Posted 2021-04-14 04:29:42 GMT

#1

peanut butter balls w clyde

A/N: ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE ANGEL... @maybe-your-left I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY WITH YOURSELF! I AM NOW GOING TO UNSUBSCRIBE TO MY OWN BLOG..

Warnings: Voyeurism, BLUE BALLS, tw: pregnancy, tw: breeding kink, cum eating, masturbation, dirty talk, also sweet talk because Clyde is baby, cowgirl style, fondling those BIG BALLS, copious amounts of description of horsecocks, copious amounts of cum (just a swimming pool size full of his cum if you will), just pure fuckin’ smut and fluff because I cannot get off the DadBod train tonight or ever (thank you @in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather I love you forever), tw: mentions of somnophilia, tw: I am back on my bullshit and better than ever bitches! 

The clock read five in the morning as he stared it down menacingly. Having just gotten home from the bar to your sleeping form peacefully huddled against his pillow, inhaling the sweet scent of him while he slaved away at work.

He laid down gingerly, careful not to disturb you as he knew you hadn’t been sleeping too well given the state you had been in over the first few weeks of it all. The vomiting, the tears, the rush of hormones coupled with outbursts of anger and pain from your breasts had all been weighing on you. 

He gave you your space, knowing from his research that the second trimester would be so much different. Hoping the book wasn’t lying to him about that and waiting as patiently as he could for you to come around. 

Those nights he’d find you keeled over the toilet, cursing his name as he stumbled through the door of the trailer. He hated all of it, wishing he could take the ugly parts away for you. But he knew, and so did you, that it was all for the greatest adventure yet, so it was worth the endless tears and heartburn. 

So, on nights like tonight, he’d rub the stray hair from your face, peeking under the covers to place a gentle hand on that growing bump of yours, hoping soon he’d feel a little kick as he teared up thinking about how amazing you were for growing this precious baby. 

He loved you even more than he could count on his fingers and toes, and when you’d both found out, it was both a sigh of relief and joy as you both finally had the thing you’d been afraid wasn’t possible. It was perfect. Except on these nights when he couldn’t sleep. 

When he ached for your luscious cunt enveloping his after a long day’s work. He wouldn’t dare wake you up for it, for fear of the mama bear wrath, but godammit did he wish you were having just as tough a time sleeping as he was. 

He tossed and turned, the light of the clock seemingly getting brighter as he huffed around in the bed. Clad in only his boxers, as he kicked off the sheets in a fit of frustration, his tent very apparent as he adjusted his blue balls in between his thighs, the burning sensation causing a low hiss to leave his mouth. 

“Fuck me,” he whispered, getting up with his good hand to sit his huge frame on the edge of the bed, rubbing his face in it as he let out another heavy sigh. 

He strained up, cracking his back as he meandered to the living room and then the kitchen. Shuffling to the kitchen window, he huffed, looking out into the blackness of the early morning, thinking about making himself something to eat to curb his lack of sleep. 

He padded over to the fridge, grabbing his favorite huckleberry jelly out of the side door, then the pantry to get his bread and peanut butter. Laying out a paper plate as he slowly opened the drawer to grab a knife, making damn sure he didn’t make a peep as he slathered the contents together. He pulled the stool out from the island, straining himself to not scoot it too loud on the tile while he devoured his sandwich in the light of the kitchen. 

He looked around, reaching for some chips you’d left out on the counter earlier, crinkling the bag to get a few out before he became thirsty. He strained back up, the pain in his balls returning with every movement as they hit his meaty thighs. 

“Jesus,” he whispered, gripping them in his hand before he took another step, “I gotta do somethin’ ‘bout this,” gritting out as he got the gallon of juice out of the fridge to cop a swig from it, knowing if you had witnessed it he’d be in the biggest trouble. 

Letting out a huge sigh and a burp, he got back on the stool and finished the rest of his five AM snack, still feeling that dulled pain in his lower half as he tossed the remaining things in the trash and plopping on the couch to turn on the TV as he still didn’t feel tired. 

He mindlessly flipped through the channels, settling on a sitcom before wincing in another sharp pain as he adjusted himself, legs spread wide on the couch. His cock still half-hard knowing your half-naked ass was laying in bed, no doubt the wetness building up from your sleep. He loved surprising you in the morning, feeling that slicked up pussy as he would snake a hand or his tip in between your folds, waking you up in the best way he could think of. 

His dick twitched at the thought, his hand sliding in his briefs as he gripped his thick girth at its base, unveiling it in the brightness of the TV. 

His chest heaved, the sensitivity that had built up over weeks of nothing was too much for him to take at this point. Spitting on his large hand as he spread the slick over himself, his dripping tip mixing with his saliva as he traced his bulged out veins along his shaft. 

Throwing his head back at the feeling, wishing it wasn’t his hand fucking himself, and picturing that pretty mouth of yours covering him from stem to stern. He pumped his hand up and down steadily, setting the scene for himself while he closed his golden eyes.

You were perfect, knelt in between his thick thighs, kitten licking his tip and pecking sweet kisses on his tummy while he begged for you to do more. Your gorgeous eyes boring into his as your lashes fluttered in innocence licking a long stripe from the base to the tip. A beautiful moan escaping your lips as your tits hit his sensitive sac. 

You grip his belly in your delicate hands, kneading and scratching at it for leverage while you shoved your mouth over his length, the gag escaping your chest causing his breath to hitch as he watched you take him like the good girl you were. 

He thrusts on himself sped up, thinking of you bobbing your pretty head on his large cock, the spit, and tears streaming down your cheeks and jawline in a sloppy mess while he pushed up into you. Holding your pretty hair in an iron grip as he lead you down on him more, your one hand snaking down to grip his pained sac and rolling it in your fingers while he exhaled a groan at the sensation. 

“Goddammit baby girl,” he gritted out, feeling the warming of his release creep up slowly as he kept his imagination running on and on. His eyes still closed as he jerked it on the couch, seemingly unaware of how loud he truly was in the moment. 

You had woken up a few minutes after he’d begun, leaning in on the doorframe as you bit your lip looking at your big bear going to town in the living room. His thick cock making the drippage seep out of your bare cunt as you tried to keep as quiet as possible. 

He kept up with his thoughts, blissfully unaware of the mess he was making you feel in the moment. Your lower belly burning for him as you gripped the little bump that had become more apparent as of late. 

Crossing your legs to avoid more leakage, you leaned your head on the frame as well, reveling in the sweet sounds your husband was making on the sofa. His grunts, curses, moans, and groans were enough to make you blush as he repeated your name over and over. 

The strains getting more feral as he neared his orgasm. You inched forward just before he was about to burst, knowing the faces he made so well as you crawled on your hands in knees like a tiger stalking its prey. 

“Holy s-shit, Y/N,” his low baritone muttered out, the speed on his angry cock had picked up as fervently as he could possibly go in the moment, his precious face conjuring up in all signs of pleasure as the sweat dripped from his temples, his teeth gritted while he tried to reach his edge. 

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247 notes • Posted 2021-02-05 06:20:03 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[melon-wing]

Dread Part 3

[PIRATE AU MASTERLIST] Doc had been restless for days now. He was short tempered with everyone around him and except for Ren everybody was trying not to cross paths too often with him. Every day he hoped news would reach him. He had sent more money than usual to his spy in the navy to make sure he'd find out everything he could about Grian. They should have rescued him by now. They should have found Bdubs by now. Why hadn't they? According to his informant the navy was still searching near the northern sea. And according to Doc's network of informants Bdubs was nowhere near that area. Why the hell where those idiots still searching in the wrong part of the world? If they had just saved Grian by now, Doc wouldn’t be such a mess.

Doc had been so close to giving the order to follow Bdubs. He had seen the hope in Ren’s eyes every time he had stepped out of his quarters about to change course. He had held back every time. No one was worth the lives of his crew. They were his family after all. They had always been there for him. They had been by his side through all the bad and good times when everyone else had abandoned him. He just couldn’t bear the burden of getting one of them killed, even if it meant losing Grian.

Sure, maybe their latest adventures had been only in the southern part of the sea, but that was just... just... Oh fuck, who was he trying to fool? He knew why. He wanted to be close by in case he decided to change his mind and sail straight into Bdubs’ trap. He didn’t want to endanger his friends, but a little voice had kept telling him that he should risk it. Or at least part with his crew and run in alone, try to bargain for Grian’s release if he himself stayed back as Bdub’s prisoner. He had always managed to suppress those urges, though he knew that his resolve was crumbling bit by bit every day without news of the navy rescuing Grian.

The door to his cabin flew open and Doc composed himself a little, slowly turning around to face Ren, whose face was as white as a sheet, his fist balled around a piece of fabric.

"Are there any news?", Doc's voice was strained. He had been asking that question too often lately. And he dreaded and hoped for news at the same time these days.

"Etho... Etho and False met with one of Bdubs’ men today."

Doc nodded, his lips a thin line. He should have known his crew wouldn't hold as still as he had ordered them to. He should have stopped their dangerous plans, but he had let them go on, because deep down he hoped it would help. "What did they find out?"

Ren hesitated and then held up his hand and what Doc had thought was just some old cleaning rag unfolded.

Doc’s eyes widened, his heart seemed to stop and then begin to race like crazy. No. No! This couldn’t be… But Doc would know that shirt anywhere. He'd spend so much time watching Grian…

The fabric on the back of the shirt was hanging in shreds and completely stained with blood. Doc took a step back, leaning against his desk, when he felt his legs beginning to shake. He could feel his breathing starting to become faster and he grabbed onto the desk hard, trying to calm himself. He took a deep breath, but every time his eyes travelled back to the blood, it felt like someone stabbed his heart, making it hard for him to stay composed. He knew Bdubs’ methods. He knew what the state of that shirt meant for Grian.

"Doc...? We have to-"

"No. No we don't." Doc's voice was shaking and so much higher than his usual commanding tone as he replied and he took another breath to calm himself, trying to push all his emotions down. He finally averted his eyes from the bloody shirt, knowing that looking at it would stop him from thinking rational. "We really don't. I don't want to see your clothes full of blood next, Ren. I can’t... Tell the crew to set sail. We are heading north. As far away as possible from them."

He just couldn't. He couldn't let his emotions win. No matter how much he wanted to. He was a Captain. Their Captain. He alone carried the responsibility to ensure the crew’s safety.

Ren stayed silent for a while and Doc sighed, lowering his gaze a little, not ready to face the disappointment he was sure to find on his friend’s face.

Suddenly a knife whizzed past Doc’s head, grazing his hair and cutting a few strands before burying itself into the wall behind him.

Doc's gaze snapped up and he looked at Ren furiously, his furry mirrored back at him on Ren’s face. “Now you listen, you little piece of shit-”, Doc growled out, but he was soon interrupted by Ren’s raised voice.

“No, Doc. You will listen to me. I’m gonna be blunt and talk to you not as my Captain, but as my friend.”

"Don't you already do that all the time?", Doc huffed, still annoyed.

"Doc. We will sail south. I will give the crew the order with, or without your permission. You are welcome to kick me off the ship once we rescued Grian. I know you want to protect all of us, but we don't need to be coddled. We all want you to be happy!"

"I am happy."

"Yeah... yeah you are. But you are happier when you are with him. Stop trying to pretend your feelings don't exist!"

"I..." Doc shook his head. "It's not like that."

"Stop lying to yourself. I know it, you know it. We all know it here. You love Grian. You're in love with him."

Doc’s anger faded from one second to the next, his eyes widening at Ren’s statement, all of his thoughts coming to an abrupt halt.

“What?”

Ren’s face softened as well, the anger all gone from their conversation. “Doc… You can’t tell me you never realised. You are treating nobody like him. The way you flirt with him.”

“I flirt with a lot of people!”, Doc protested. Sure, he was rather fond of Grian and enjoyed their time together. Grian was a pretty attractive guy and he wouldn’t mind having some fun with him, but in love? That was going a bit far… wasn’t it?

“Not since you met him. Every other conversation we have is about Grian. Since he’s been captured you’re falling deeper and deeper into a hole and it pains us all to see it. Doc, you are like a brother to me. All I want is for you to be happy, even if it means we are risking our lives.”

Doc couldn’t stop thinking about what Ren said. The word ‘love’ was constantly repeating in his thoughts. His gaze travelled to the fabric in Ren’s hand again and a cold realisation washed over him at the same time as dread grabbed his heart. “I love him…”

Doc paused and then pushed of the desk, a determined expression on his face as he walked up to Ren and took the shirt out of his hand, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

Doc stepped past his First Mate and out of the cabin. Everyone on the deck stopped to look at him, waiting. Doc lowered his gaze, looking at the shirt. He took a deep breath, raising his head again, pressing the bloody shirt against his chest where his heart was beating in excitement.

“Set sail! We are heading south. Prepare yourselves for a battle!”

~

Grian was awoken with a sudden start, as a bucket of water was dumped over him. The water ran down his back and it cost him a lot not to scream, as the saltwater got into the wounds. He bit down hard, forcing himself to stay completely silent until the worst of the pain passed. Slowly he turned his head a little, looking into the smiling face of one of Bdubs’ crew members. It was someone else than before, so they must be watching him in shifts. He felt like he had seen this one's face before, but he really wasn't sure anymore. This torture had been going for hours now. The sun had long set, but every time he managed to fall asleep in this uncomfortable position, still tied to the mast, kneeling on the floor, someone inflicted pain on him to wake him once more. He felt like he was losing his mind.

"Wakey, wakey, little prince. No sleeping for you on the Captain's orders. He wants you broken beyond repair before you die."

Grian managed to glare at the pirate out of tired eyes, but kept his mouth shut. He knew that talking back only meant more pain. He had given up talking back after the second hour. It made him feel like he was failing. There was a hand on his back, fingers pressing painfully into his wounds and then nails were scratching down his back. He began shaking once more but kept quiet.

"Such a pity that we have to get rid of you. You are a good fighter. You could have been part of this crew. The Captain could have broken you and build you up again into a perfect little puppet. But since you won't be... You know I never got my revenge for you making an idiot out of me in front of the Captain."

Grian almost groaned in annoyance at his luck. That's why the pirate's face had seemed vaguely familiar. It was one of the men that had attacked him when he'd been with Keralis. Or rather one of the guy that Grian beat up without even breaking into sweat.

"It's your own fault, you got yourself into this situation, really. Getting involved with our Captain's former lover... Never a good idea.", the pirate taunted and looked even more amused when Grian's eyes widened. "Oh, little boy, don't tell me you didn't know? Our Captain and your lover boy go way, way back. I'm glad he decided on Keralis in the end. That weakling Doc wouldn't have been worthy of our Captain's attention."

"Doc... He and Bdubs...", Grian repeated, his voice raspy from the amount of screaming he had done. But he just couldn’t keep it in.

"Oh so now you can speak? Gotten curious?" The moment Grian opened his mouth again, those fingernails pressed deep into one of the worse wounds and Grian screamed loudly, his body shaking even harder. "Got you there, our little songbird. But try not to be too loud. The Captain and his Mate want to sleep. You wouldn't want to disturb them now, would you? Keralis is really moody when he doesn't get enough sleep. All he has done so far will seem like gentle touches compared to that."

Grian swallowed and shut his mouth once again, not daring to risk another sound passing his lips. The pirate grinned smugly, as if he was taking Grian's silence as a challenge. "It's a pity I'm not allowed to break you too bad. That honour goes to the Captain. But what do you say about playing a little game?" The sound of fabric rustling and then Grian flinched when cold metal touched his back. The blade of the knife gently traced over his back, not pressing down deep enough to break any more skin. Still Grian's breath hitched and he tried to press himself closer to the mast, to get away from it. "I will ask you a few questions. For every wrong answer I'll leave a mark. For every answer I don't like I leave an even bigger mark. Understood?"

Grian didn't react and the pressure on the blade increased, making his heart beat faster.

“Understood?!

"Yes...", he whispered against the mast, trying to steel himself for what was about to come.

“Do you have any navy secrets that could help us?”

“Most likely not more than the guys Bdubs is paying”, Grian shot back, his expression darkening at the thought of the traitor in their midst. If he could control the search efforts for Grian he must be pretty high up the ladder.

The pirate behind him only laughed in amusement. “Well that would be true. Isn’t that lucky for you? No secrets I can torture out of you.” The pirate didn’t really sound like he thought it was a good thing. He seemed to be rather disappointed. That was, until another question came to his mind.

"What's Doc's weakness? Despite you of course."

Grian pressed his lips together. His mind flashing back to his countless battles with Doc, to all of their interactions. To the way he went feral, when one of his crew members was in serious trouble, blinded by fury. The blind spot he had when Grian attacked from a certain angle.

"He has none. You weaklings won't stand a chance against him", Grian spat out and then pressed his lips together, knowing very well what was about to come.

"Wrong answer." The knife dug into his skin at his side, blood flowing as a straight cut was made downwards. Grian pressed his teeth together almost painfully hard, but he managed to stay silent.

"What a nice game you two are playing. I also have a question..."

Grian froze when he heard Bdub's voice and steps coming closer. They must have woken him up. Oh shit, he really was in trouble now. Because while all of the pirates here were cruel, they still held back. The pirate behind Grian stepped back, but it only took about a second for the blade to appear at his back again, this time lower, right above his waistband. Before he even asked a question, Bdubs already started carving, a straight line and some curves. He chuckled darkly and then stopped for a second.

"I’ve always wondered. Tell me, Grian. How come you are alive?"

Grian turned his head, trying to look at Bdubs in confusion.

"What...?"

"Wrong answer."

The blade moved once more, another straight line and a curved, like he was tracing some pattern. Grian whimpered in pain and he hated himself for once again showing this much weakness, but he refused to shed any tears, no matter how much his body wanted to betray him.

"I... I don't know what you are talking about. I really don’t!"

Bdubs huffed, sounding almost annoyed that Grian hadn’t gotten his vague question. His free hand caressed the cuts he just made in a mockery of gentleness, smearing the blood over Grian's back. "Let me refresh your memory then. Ten years ago. On Gedwyld Island." Grian's breath hitched and he could hear the smirk in Bdubs voice now. "Ah, so you do remember. How interesting. Your name is not a funny coincidence then. I had my suspicions, but I wasn’t sure until now. You really did grow up there."

"Why do you know about that? How...?"

"Oh Grian, isn't it obvious? I was there. I was part of the crew that raided your island. I was standing guard outside the orphanage where we were looking for the boy."

Grian's mind flashed back to the fire and the screams, to the pirates roaming the streets, to the two pirates guarding the main entrance of the orphanage. He couldn't remember anything about them. He hadn't even been able to see their faces, so focused on trying to hide. Could one of them have been Bdubs? How else was he supposed to know about all of this?

"Funny thing you know. We found a lot of kids there, searching for our target. And one of them told us his name was Grian. Pretty black haired boy. Real hero, making sure all his little friends escaped, promising to bring us who we were looking for if we let them go. My mate put a bullet through his heart. Tell me... How did you survive that one?"

Grian froze up completely. "What?" he asked, his voice breaking and unnaturally high.

"You heard me the first time, pet", Bdubs huffed as if he was speaking to a little child, carving one more curved line into Grian's lower back. Grian sucked in air and whimpered in pain. It wasn't as bad as the constant whipping. He could suppress his screams easier, but it still hurt like hell. "How did you survive?"

Grian swallowed. His mind racing with images of that day. The pirate and Taurtis standing in that room. Hadn't the pirate said something about Taurtis being the boy they were looking for? And Taurtis had agreed to that. Grian had always wondered what that had meant and why someone had been after Taurtis.

Did that mean...?

"Answer me now, pet, and you better not be lying." The knife was resting against his skin, the threat clear in Bdubs’ voice.

"They shot my friend, not me", Grian whispered, his voice shaking as it dawned on him that he had been the one meant to die that day and not Taurtis. "He... Oh god. He pretended to be me?"

Bdubs made a thoughtful noise behind him and thankfully didn't continue carving right away. "So we got the wrong one, huh? That guy really was an idiot believing some suicidal kid. If it had been me in there, I would have asked for prove. Still, what a foolish boy, dying for someone else. Was he your boyfriend or what?"

Grian froze, his heart racing, his breathing becoming quicker. The locket against his chest was feeling heavier than it had ever done before. Bdubs behind him was silent for a few seconds and then he burst out laughing.

"Oh you poor thing. Always loosing. No wonder you are not falling into Doc's arms already, playing the strong soldier. You are scared to lose him. Well too late, pet", Bdubs said, humming to himself and then the knife was back against his skin, just resting there.

"Now tell me, Grian. Who did you piss of so much that they sent a whole pirate crew after you?"

How was Grian supposed to know that? Up until a second ago he hadn't even known that the attack had been directed at him. He didn’t even know what he was supposed to think anymore. He stayed silent for a second too long and the blade dug into his skin again, carving a straight line and two curved ones and Grian gasped, at the realisation what Bdubs was doing behind him. That gasp turned into a whimper. It wasn’t just some random pattern he had been carving.

"No... Don't do that", he pleaded, earning himself another smug chuckle from the Pirate Captain.

"Finally noticed? Took you long enough, pet. We both now I can't stop now. We are almost done after all. But depending on your answer I might make the cut a little less deep."

Grian pressed his lips together, his whole body trembling. He wanted to cry so badly, but he couldn't show more weakness then he already had. Once he gave up, he'd break. And if he was to die, he at least wanted to die in dignity. Or as much dignity as he had left right now.

"I don't know why, I swear. I didn't even know that they were supposed to kill me. I'm... I'm just an orphan. I wasn't even in the navy back then. I know nothing about...", Grian trailed off, his voice growing quiet as he almost inaudibly whispered the last words, "... my parents."

"Oh?" Bdubs sounded even more interested now and Grian wished he had just kept quiet. Bdubs being interested in something would only be more pain. "What about your parents? Were they some big names in the navy?"

Grian shook his head, remaining silent and the knife broke through his skin once more, going deeper than before. While Bdubs had been quick with his cuts before he took his time now, slowly dragging the knife along in a curvy line. Bdubs other hand was also back at his back, fingernails digging into one of his open cuts. "Tell me what you know."

Grian wanted to resist, he really did, but he was tired and his back felt like it was on fire. And what good was resisting anyways? He was about to die in a few days. His information would be useless to Bdubs and not worth being in pain over it. The voice in his head telling him to hold on was getting smaller and smaller. Resistance wouldn't help him. There was no hope left.

"I don't know my mother... But my father was a pirate. The navy tried to keep me a secret for whatever reason”, he finally replied, his voice sounding empty, even to his own ears.

The knife finally left his back and a hand was back, tracing the lines on his back. He could hear the smirk in Bdubs’ voice. "See. That wasn't so hard. Now. Do you know by any chance who your father was?"

Grian shook his head, his whole body tensing, expecting another wave of pain to hit him for being unable to answer. The pain didn't come. Bdubs bent forward, his lips close to Grian's ear, making shushing noises, while gently caressing his back.

"Shhh. It's alright, pet. You did well. I'm proud of you."

And while he had held back during the torture and through all the pain, tears were now running down his face. He suddenly felt dirty and so weak. The hand on his back moved lower to the freshly made cuts, tracing them carefully.

"My name does look really pretty on you, my little pet."

[ahh-fxck]

ok but i just saw this AU "My incredibly stupid cat just jumped out of my apartment window after a bird and you caught her in your arms like a baby and looked up, stared me dead in the eye and said "I think you dropped something" and this is geraskier y/y? :D?

Yes! Yes I love this so much! So much that I accidentally wrote five pages about it!

Please enjoy :D It is also here on ao3.

(Also please pardon the no beta, I will come back and edit this but I got excited and wanted to post it!!)

Also also- The song I quote is a real Ren Faire song and is pretty fucking funny if you’re into that kind of thing.

Also also also- Holy shit I am the kind of nerd that will spend two hours researching 500+ year old slang for pussy because I wanted to make a throwaway joke in a fic.

And finally: Yes! I am willing to write more of this if enough people are into it. :) Let me know!

~♡♡♡~

Jaskier threw his leg up on the couch, strumming his lute and singing his heart out. He had just gotten his first shitty apartment for the summer between college semesters, and he was massively behind on practicing for the Faire. August was only a month and a half a way, and he had at least twenty more songs to memorize into his repertoire. It was his first summer as an adult, and he’d finally been allowed to act as one of the wandering bards. 

If all of the girls were bells in a tower

And I was a clapper, I'd bang one each hour

Go roll your leg over, roll your leg over

Roll your leg over the man in the moon.

If all of the girls were fish in the ocean

And I was a wave I would teach them the motion.

Go roll your leg over, roll your leg over

Roll your leg over the man in the moon.

The young bard-to-be resumed striding around the room, practicing his struts and flourishes. Nothing less than perfection would do. If he didn’t impress the first week, he would be relegated back to the fairy chorus again, and the fucking leggings itched in the August heat. 

If all of the girls were little white rabbits

And I was a hare, I would teach them bad habits.

Go roll your leg over, roll your leg over

Roll your leg over the man in the moon.

If all them young ladies was up for improvement.

I'd give them some help with a ball-bearing movement.

Go roll your leg over, roll your leg over

Roll your leg over the man in the moon.

As he paced back and forth, he tossed his head to throw a sweat-sticky curl of hair off of his forehead. The merciless summer heat had started early this year, and by June it was in full swing. The windows of his little apartment were wide open, and a standing fan was turning back and forth, stirring lazy eddies in the arid air. Nearby, his elderly cat grey cat, Pipkin, lazed in the cool shadow of the table. 

If all them young ladies was little white kittens

And I was the tom cat, I'd give them new fittin's 

Go roll your leg over, roll your leg over-

As he spun with particular exuberance, he landed wrong and staggered onto the cat’s tail. Flailing backwards, Jaskier flew one way and the cat flew another. He hit the floor near the ratty couch with a crash, all the breath rushing out of his lungs. Nearby he heard a ‘bang!’ and then a howl of fury and fear as the ancient screen gave way under her considerable weight. Jaskier’s heart leapt into his throat.

“Pipkin!” He screamed, scrambling over to the window and looking frantically downward. As he scanned the sidewalk for his cat, he saw a man with white hair and golden eyes staring up at him. His hammering heart did a complicated skip as the man locked eyes with him and smirked, gesturing with something in his arms. 

“I think you dropped something,” he called up, his voice a gravelly baritone. In his arms was Pipkin, who had such a look of shock on her face that it was almost comical. 

Despite his terror, Jaskier gave a slightly hysterical titter. Oh shit, it was his drop-dead gorgeous neighbor. “I can’t believe you caught her. Oh Melitele, thank you!” No such goddess existed anymore, but in his upset he had forgotten to drop out of character and used the ancient name. 

Below him, his neighbor’s eyebrows went up. “It’s fine,” he said, but he sounded a little thrown. The cat, recovering from her shock, began to struggle in his arms. She gave a surprisingly deep snarl for such a tiny animal. Lashing out, she spat at her rescuer and tried to claw him. Dodging easily, he fixed his eyes on the little animal and gestured in the air above her. “Hush,” he said, though Jaskier could barely hear him. With a slow blink, the little cat settled down in his arms. 

Jaskier gaped at this exchange from above. When the stranger’s compelling golden eyes returned to him, it sparked him suddenly back into motion. “Sweet goddess are you ok?” Leaning out of the window, he peered down at Pipkin. “Pipkin, you be good! What is wrong with you?! I’ll be right down.”

The big man holding his cat smiled a slow smile, shaking his head. “If you don’t mind, I think I’d better bring her up to you. She’s not going to be very happy when I let her go.” 

Jaskier blinked at him, puffed, and then nodded. He wasn’t expecting guests and his apartment was a mess, but he imagined his neighbor was right. It was odd to see her so quiet, though. Feeling a stir of unease, he called, “Okay! I’m in 503!”

“I know,” the white-haired man replied with a crooked grin. He walked around the side of the building to the entryway and vanished out of sight. 

Struck by a sudden panic, Jaskier slammed the window closed and flew away from it. He began frantically cleaning his apartment. Pizza boxes in the trash, empty soda cans in the recycling, oh sweet goddess his socks were everywhere. “Why am I like this?!” He groaned, running a pile of dirty laundry across the apartment and flinging it into his bedroom.

He’d watched his blisteringly hot neighbor move in less than a month ago to the apartment next door, and since then had become a little obsessed. Not only was he gorgeous, he had some weird habits. He kept odd hours. Sometimes he’d leave around twilight one evening and not show up until noon next day, limping into his apartment with a long, dark jacket on, even in the heat of summer. Others, he’d be out at dawn with a large pack of some sort on his back. Then he’d come back in the middle of the day, looking like ten miles of bad road. Sometimes Jaskier could swear there was blood on the carpet, but every time he’d go back to look later, it had vanished- scrubbed away, or never there?  

He never seemed to mind the noise Jaskier made, either. While other philistines railed at his 3 AM renditions of “Roll Your Leg Over,” banging on the floor and wall of his apartment. On one memorable occasion, they had even sent an exasperated police officer to bang on his door. Never the white-haired stranger, though, no matter how loud he was being. 

Just then, knocking interrupted his frantic cleaning. Dropping the lute onto the couch and swearing, Jaskier ran to answer the door. It was only after he had flung the door wide and the white-haired man had stepped inside that he realized he was still only in his boxers. Mortified, he froze to the floor as his neighbor slipped around him and punted the door shut with his foot. He hadn’t even cleared away all of the empty soda bottles, and he’d forgotten his pants.

The big man glanced at him as he entered and smirked. Cradled in his arms, no doubt getting his black jacket all furry, was Pipkin. She had a vague, dazed expression on her face, but her tail swished calmly as he turned to close the door. When he released her on the floor however, some sort of spell seemed to break. She blinked, spun around yowling, and whacked the man’s thick calf-high leather boot three times in quick succession. Then she sprinted away into the recesses of Jaskier’s apartment, vanishing in a trice. 

“Pipkin!” Jaskier gasped, the shock of seeing his usually friendly cat smack the man jarring him into motion. “I am, so sorry,” he quavered, grabbing a yellow, furry jacket off of the coat hook near the door and wrapping it self-consciously around his waist. “She’s normally very sweet, I promise. Are you all right?!” He looked down at the unharmed boot and back up into shocking golden eyes, bright and intelligent, glittering with amusement. 

“I’m fine,” the stranger drawled, removing silver-studded black leather gloves and putting them into his jacket pocket. Closer up, it was possible to see that he carried something bulky under the black duster, strapped to his back. What it was, however, was unclear. 

“That’s… that’s good, I’m glad to hear it,” Jaskier bubbled awkwardly, at a loss. He couldn’t just bolt for his trousers without introducing himself first, but he didn’t want to introduce himself without trousers. Dithering, he clutched the jacket to his waist and stared with wide blue eyes at the black-clad vision in front of him. Tall, white hair, long black jacket, some sort of… was that biker’s gear? The pants appeared to be leather with thick plates sewn into them, perhaps to protect from road rash. He also had some sort of sturdy leather vest or something peeking through the opening of his jacket. A tingle raced across the back of Jaskier’s arms. Whatever he was, this was no normal neighbor. 

“Want to go grab some pants?” A dry voice cut through his dithering. “I’ll wait.” Bright eyes tracked across the fluffy yellow jacket, the smirk widening slightly. 

“Oh thank you,” Jaskier gasped, fleeing before he even had a chance to think. “I’ll be right back!” he called over his shoulder, vanishing into his bedroom. He blindly grabbed for the first pair of pants he could find in his drawer and staggered into them. They were a pair of high-waisted blue trousers that tied at the back- part of one of his Faire outfits. 

Then he peeked under the bed for Pipkin, who he found in the closet. She was hiding in an empty shoe box, and emitted a peevish growl when he gently fished her out, cooing softly to her to calm her. Once he had satisfied himself that the struggling creature was uninjured, he gently returned her to her nest. Then, too flustered to grab a shirt, Jaskier bounced back out into the living room.

His guest greeted his return with a slightly stricken look, though it was hidden quickly behind a look of guarded amusement. He eyed Jaskier up and down, taking in the thatch of chest hair, the bare feet, the blue trousers. “Cat ok?” He asked, his voice a deep, pleasantly gravelly baritone. 

“She’s fine,” Jaskier shuffled awkwardly, then stuck his hand out. “Thank you so much for being there to catch her. Um. Gosh, I wish I’d met you under better circumstances, you’re really um… I mean.” He stopped, swallowed, catching his breath and reeling himself back in. “My name is Jaskier, it’s nice to meet you.”

The man eyed his hand for a moment that was slightly longer than Jaskier was actually comfortable with, before grasping it firmly. “Geralt,” he introduced himself. “Geralt z Rivii.” 

His hand was warm and held a truly surprising amount of strength; Jaskier very rarely felt someone deliberately being gentle with him, but he could tell the big man could crush his fingers like bird bones if he wanted to. It made Jaskier’s bones feel like they were melting like butter, to feel that strength. “Wow…” he said, eyes wide, then mentally kicked himself. “I mean, uh. Nice to meet you,” he burbled, before trailing off awkwardly into silence, kicking himself the entire time for sounding like an idiot. 

The corners of Geralt’s eyes crinkled as he squeezed Jaskier’s hand delicately. “Nice to meet you too.” Turning, he scanned the apartment, his expression unreadable. “Why did you name your cat Pipkin? That’s… an unusual choice.” 

“Uh… Well, funny story…” Jaskier blushed. Normally, he loved telling this story, but somehow it seems silly and small under that bright gaze. “It’s sort of a play on words. People call their cats ‘pussy,’ so I named her… uh… another word for pussy. An old word. Pipkin.” Damn. He hadn’t even managed to make it funny this time. 

“That joke’s more than five hundred years out of date,” Geralt noted, tipping his head to the side and fixing him with a warm, amused look. 

“How- How do you know that?” Jaskier sputtered, astonished. The slang was from the 17th century, no one outside certain academic circles had any business knowing that. “Are you… do you do the Faire?”

Shifting the pack on his back, which concealed two swords- one silver, and one steel, Geralt snorted. “I really don’t.” 

[jadekitty777]

Where the Heart Is

*Looks at the 80% of entries so far being in some vain about that moment*

*Holds out her own overly cutesy entry* I-I can still join the party, right?

More seriously, I’ve been super stoked to get to this day! This entry is one my favorites, with tomorrow’s being my absolute favorite. I hope you all enjoy!!!

Day 5: Hurt/Comfort

Rating: K+

Pairing: Qrow/Clover

Word Count: 4.6k

Ao3 Link: Where the Heart Is

Summary: After facing off against Salem's hordes and managing to secure some of the relics in Vacuo, the team stops in Patch for some much needed rest and recuperation. It was meant to be relaxing. So, why was Clover more troubled than usual?

Qrow isn't sure, but he is determined to figure it out. With, maybe, a little bit of help from his family along the way. [Canon Divergent from V7C12]

A series of shouts snapped Qrow awake in an instant and he was already half out of bed with one hand around Harbinger before his sleepy brain caught up with his body and reminded him that he was home and safe. He settled back on the mattress with a groan, running a hand over bis face. A quick glance told him the space behind him was empty and from all the noise downstairs, he surmised he was probably the last one up.

Not that it bothered him much. He so rarely got to curl up under the ridiculously soft sheets and warmth of a real bed, especially his own, why wouldn’t he take the opportunity to lounge around in it for a few extra minutes? Or hours.

Still there was definitely no going back once something got him up, so he resigned himself to preparing for the morning.

By the time he was making his way downstairs, the game the kids were playing was in full swing. Yang and Nora were both standing on the coffee table, scrolls in hand and trading off insults as they tried to decimate the other’s character in Grimm Fighters 3. Ruby was cheering them on in the background. Removed from them, Penny was settled against the far wall, a charger plugged in the back of her bow, but she seemed intent on watching the proceeding battle from her corner.

As he hit the last step, the TV proudly proclaimed, “Fatality! Player 2 wins!” And Yang gave a yell of fury, dramatically falling to her knees while Nora started doing a jig and proclaiming how she was still queen.

“Isn’t this a little much for nine in the morning?” Qrow asked them once the victory shaming had ended.

Instead of an answer, he got a chirpy, “Morning Uncle Qrow!” from Ruby.

“Wanna join us?” Yang waved her scroll invitingly.

“Maybe after a dose of caffeine.” He left them to their own devices, slipping into the kitchen.

Despite the room’s smaller size, it was just as energetic and even more packed. Jaune was wrist deep in an argument with the juicer, while Ren was rolling out dough on the counter beside him. Tai was whipping eggs in a large bowl. Weiss was the only one going about her vegetable chopping task with a bit more slowness, concentrating hard as she tried to coordinate her hands into doing a task unfamiliar to them.

Acting as silent observers, Blake and Oscar were sipping on their respective drinks of tea and coffee. Or, he realized as Oz gave him a friendly nod, hot chocolate. “Good morning Qrow. I hope you slept well.”

“If he’s the last one up, that’s always a good sign.” Tai jabbed, instantly earning forgiveness when he added, “Tea and coffee’s made if you want any.”

He nodded his thanks, hiding a yawn as he carefully reached over Weiss to get a mug. It felt like a coffee day.

So close, he didn’t miss the whisper of, “Am I doing this right?” her tone having a note of frustration to it.

He glanced down at the potatoes she was trying to cube, none of them matching in size or width. Certainly wouldn’t win any of the many awards the Atlas Elite was accustomed too. “Looks good to me.” Her surprise reminded him of another thing she never had – easily won praise. “Maybe cut the bigger pieces in half so it’ll cook the same.”

She didn’t respond, maybe just not sure how to, but the shift to her knife told him she was taking his advice. Qrow left her to it, going across the kitchen to pour himself a cup. As he added the sugar, he finally asked, “Where’s Clover?”

“Patio, with Zwei.” Tai pointed his whisk in the direction of the open back door.

“Got it. Let us know when breakfast is ready.” He said, heading that way. The commotion starting up again from the living room followed after him.

Despite only a few days having passed since their arrival, it all felt exceedingly normal. It almost didn’t belong after all the senseless tragedy that had plagued them on their journey. Haven. Mantle. Atlas. When they finally secured a small victory in Vacuo, managing to seal two relics away, it seemed time to take a breather. To recuperate and plan their next step. What better place for that then home?

He’d like to say Patch had been mostly untouched by the calamity the rest of the world had been facing – but Signal’s provisional closure and the shrinking shelves in the grocery store told otherwise.

While no one in the general public understood why huntsmen-focused schools were being attacked, no respectable headmaster could justify continuing to place their youngest generation in danger until a more permanent solution to the massacres were devised. Likewise, supplies were becoming scare as less people felt safe to travel and even less eager to trade among kingdoms. With less to go around, it only increased more devastating problems – like crime, sickness and starvation. Which brought Grimm. And with fewer huntsmen and huntresses able to come to arms and the ones that were left being stretched beyond thin and past their limits…

Well, the new scars on Tai’s forearm was a precautionary warning about just how bad it was really getting.

If the new blemishes bothered his brother though, he certainly didn’t show it. Then again, he’d been on a permanent cloud nine since their return so it was hard to tell anything right now, but it sure was nice to see him smile so much. Just like it was nice to see the kids enjoying a bit of peace and quiet enough they felt okay to be rowdy and young again.

For once, Qrow also felt like he should take advantage of it all – to enjoy the little pleasures in life while he had them. He knew their break was temporary, maybe only a week or two more before they finally set out again. But right now, all he wanted to do was drink his coffee while snuggled in Clover’s arms.

As he stepped out onto the patio though, he came to the conclusion things might not go as planned.

Clover was seated on the porch swing, motionless beyond the idle hand petting down Zwei’s furry backside. His face was a troubling puzzle of drawn down eyebrows and a seldom-seen frown set in place. His eyes seemed to be far beyond the little grass field he was looking at and, so lost in thought, he didn’t notice Qrow at all until Zwei lifted his head.

If he’d been suspicious before, he knew without any doubt that something was wrong when the former soldier took one look at him and smiled way more widely than necessary and said with a voice full of false cheer, “Oh! Morning Qrow.”

He only did that when he was purposely trying to hide something from him.

“Hey.” He returned levelly. “Room for one more?”

Clover pat the space beside him. “Of course.”

He settled down in his spot, accepting the dog that flopped over both their laps. He propped his feet up onto the firewood rack, the movement rocking them a bit, and languidly sipped at his coffee as he tried to plan out his method of attack.

This was one of the more unfortunate things they shared in common. Neither of them had had an upbringing that encouraged them to get all ‘touchy-feely’ with their feelings, though their circumstances were widely different. In Qrow’s case his was all self-disciplined to deal with the pain of constant rejection whereas for Clover it was the Atlas academy that conditioned students like him into refusing ‘unwelcome’ emotions like sorrow or hurt.

It was one of the reasons he was never crazy about the military. It was like looking at a bunch of hims, and no one wanted to be like him.

“Been up long?” Qrow decided to test the waters carefully first.

“Lil’ before sunrise, I guess.”

So, first one to wake. It wouldn’t have been so terribly unusual for the early riser, if not for the fact they were still readjusting from their more night-based timeclock in Vacuo. The unforgiving desert heat had meant traveling in the dark kept their energy stores higher and their water supply more under control.

Still feigning casualness, he followed up with, “Well, until my ugly mug greeted you this morning, what’d you do?”

“I’ll have you know that I find your face quite lovely.” Clover chuckled, stretching an arm out across the back of the seat. “Honestly not much. Watched the news. I don’t recommend, it was all reruns.”

So, no distressing headlines they hadn’t already heard. That was good.

“Did some warm up exercises with Penny.”

Nothing too unusual there.

“Took a walk.”

That rose an alarm bell. “Alone?”

But he already knew the answer – Clover didn’t take walks. He sprinted. He jogged. Hell, if time allowed, he’d do a mini marathon. But he never walked. The only person in this household who did was-

“No, no. With Tai and Zwei. It was nice.”

Oh Brothers no. What thoughtless things did his best friend spout that had made Clover look like his whole world had suddenly flipped upside down? Did he tell him the skirt story? Please let it only be the skirt story.

“Okay look, whatever terrible things Tai said about me, they’re only half true.” Qrow defended.

“Uh, okay?” Clover only seemed confused. “Actually, we didn’t talk about you. Well – except for the typical ‘You hurt my brother I hurt you’ spiel but, I think I’m pretty used to that one by now.”

He turned away, hiding his embarrassment. “Oh.”

“Guess it was a missed opportunity.”

“Get that evil smile off your face.”

“You’re not even looking at me!”

Qrow looked. It was even eviler than he’d imagined. “Careful, you might give Salem a run for her money.”

Clover barked a laugh, abrupt enough to startle Zwei. His arm fell from the back of the bench to his shoulders, pulling him in just enough to drop a kiss on his temple. “Whatever you say babe.”  

No amount of self-control could prevent him from melting into that touch. Looks like he was getting that snuggling session in after all.

But, at the back of his mind, the question still nagged at him. If it wasn’t about him, then what had it been?

~

He didn’t get a chance to investigate further until a little after noon, when he got the chance to corner his brother-in-law in the shed.

“Sorry, but we didn’t really talk about much. I’m not sure what could have upset him.” Tai told him as he sorted through his gardening equipment.

Qrow sat across from him on one of the stools, leg bouncing impatiently against the footrest. “Are you sure?”

“Maybe I should be more offended here.” He waved a trowel at him. “What makes you so certain I caused the problem?”

“Because you’re you.”

“Oh, you’re right.” Tai placed a hand over his heart, tone full of theatrics, “I, as the better looking one among us, probably made him swoon and now he’s contemplating eloping with me.”

He threw a screwdriver at him. “Not. Funny.”

He grinned cheekily back, setting aside the tool he’d caught between his fingers. “Why don’t you just ask Clover what’s bothering him?”

“In the decades we’ve known each other, have I ever been able to be that direct about this kind of shit? Now, work with me here!” He shifted backward until his shoulders rested against the edge of the table. “Go over with me what you two talked about. Maybe I can figure it out from there.”

“Really not gonna let this go, are you?” He straightened up, stretching out his lower back. “I really meant it though, most of it was small talk. He asked me a lot of questions about Signal and what it was like to be a teacher. We thought up some ideas how to strengthen the Grimm defenses around Patch before we all leave.”

He tried to hold back his disappointment. “That’s it?”

“Yeah? I don’t know what else you’re looking for.” Qrow must have been doing a poor job, because Tai’s expression shifted to something more sympathetic. He wrung a hand through his dulling blond hair, trying to find an answer he didn’t have. “Uh, we talked about Misty Ridge for a bit?”

Qrow snorted. That certainly had been nothing more than idle chitchat. Misty Ridge was just a small mountain range that ran through the island, given its name from the near permanent mist that clung to the cliffs. He wouldn’t argue that they were beautiful to look at; he never failed to admire them from above whenever he went for a fly. Especially this time of year, when they were-

They were dusted in snow.

His eyes went wide as his brain finally made the connection.

“Figure it out?” Tai asked.

“Yeah.” He sighed. “He’s homesick.”

“Oh.”

Qrow fidgeted with a stray nail, spinning it around between his fingers. “All of us have been running from town to town for weeks now. We’ve barely had time to catch our breath, let alone our thoughts. I should have figured when we finally slowed down, something like this would happen.”

It was something he certainly had to contend with on the norm – but at least he had the peace of mind knowing his home would welcome him back. Not so much for the guy who was court martialed out of his position.

What must Clover be missing? The novelty shops he used visit? The sandwich place he brought Qrow to on their first date? The two-room apartment, with his clover-potted plants and paintings of the seas? Or maybe it was the things ingrained in his heart – like the routine of motions he was used to when he got ready for a day full of Huntsman missions and the people he used to spend it with.

His friend hummed, crossing his arms. “So, what are you gonna do about it?”

He shrugged, looking up at his friend. “What can I do? It’s not like I can stuff Atlas and Mantle in a travel bag and bring them here.”

“Very astute.” Tai remarked. “Now that you’ve ruled out the impossible, how about something smaller? Maybe make his favorite Atlesian dish? Or there might still be some wares from Mantle at the trader stalls in the market.”

“I’m not much of a cook. And he can’t exactly take a bunch of junk with us.” Qrow reminded.

He rolled his eyes. “Brothers, I hope Clover doesn’t think he’s dating a romantic.” He waved his hands outwards. “It’s not about him lugging it around, it’s just about creating a familiar space for him. Something he can look at and feel a little less out of sorts.”

Qrow tossed the idea around his head. Would Clover be touched by such a gesture? Or would it just put a bad taste in his mouth? Never mind that he didn’t even have half a clue what to get him if he could find anything.

Maybe he could just bring him up to the mountains? Or- wait! That was it!

“I got it! Come on.” He said, jumping up from his stool.

“Uh?!” Tai flailed as he was shoved towards the door. “You gonna tell me what it is first?”

“In a minute, we need the kids.”

~

The most accurate thing to say about the way Qrow’s life operated was that even his best laid plans never went perfect. That’s why he clung to the background as a spectator while everyone else did the task he’d set them out on, mostly limiting himself to occasionally running messages between the groups.

It was probably for the better anyways – he certainly didn’t have Weiss and Yang’s knack for detail or direction for something like this. Or their general enthusiasm.

“No, no!” The ice princess pointed at the tallest Maple in the center of the yard. “A few more on this tree Penny!”

“Ruby, bring the hose over here!” Yang called from the east side of the backyard, a shovel propped on her shoulder.

The request fell on deaf ears as, with a wicked cackle, Ruby aimed the nozzle at Oscar and blasted him in the back. His resounding screech could have caused an avalanche.

“Young lady!” Tai bellowed over the poor farmhand’s shouts, “If you can’t handle that hose responsibly, I’m taking it away from you.”

Her silver eyes glinted, pointed it his way now. “Just try it dad! I’ll get you next!”

As the war for the gardening tool got into full swing, Blake looked up at him from where she was tacking down the last of the fabric to the porch railing, her smile fond. “I believe that’s the sign for we’re ready.”

“Seems more like a sign to get started before they ruin the surprise.” Qrow replied, watching Oscar wrest the hose free while Tai threw his youngest up over his shoulder, ignoring Ruby’s shrieks and cries for her other teammates to avenge her. He stood from the bench, calling over the field, “I’m gonna go get Clover. So, chill everyone!” He shot a look at his eldest niece and brother-in-law when they both started cackling. “Clam it you two!”

“Go get him Uncle Qrow! We’ve got this!” Ruby encouraged.

Too bad he wasn’t sure if he was ready. The nagging worry that Clover may not like this at all continued to tangle around him like a buckthorn bush. It only sunk its thorns in deeper as he made his way inside and back into the living room area.

It seemed he’d come just in time, because Clover was just finishing up wiping the floor with Team JNR over their friendly round of Remnant: The Game.

“Ugh.” Jaune’s forehead thunked on the table top. “How do you always get the best trap cards?”

“Guess I’m just lucky.” Clover earned every bit of the scathing glare the younger team leader sent his way. “Wanna go again?”

“Might want to pause on that.” He intervened before anyone could speak up, striding forward. “Ruby’s looking for you three. She’s out back.”

Taking their obvious cue, the kids got to their feet, heading out with one last ‘We’ll get you next time!’ from Nora. Clover only chuckled at the baseless threat, beginning to pick up the game pieces.

Qrow collected some stray cards strewn along the floor, eyeing the placement of the board. “Controlling Atlas, huh?”

He shrugged, setting some of the tiny plastic soldiers back into the box. “What can I say? I know it best.”

“’Suppose you do.” He rubber-banded the rest of the stack together, choosing his next words carefully. “You’ve been thinking about Atlas a lot, haven’t you?”

“No more than usual.” He replied, tossing the dice in their little tray.

“Really?”

He wasn’t sure if it was his tone or just his insistence, but Clover suddenly paused, meeting his gaze, pushing that same unerring optimism to the forefront of his smile, “Hey now, what’s with the 4-1-1?”

If there had been a stenographer detailing every moment of Qrow’s life from the beginning to now, the record would show he was not in any way good at these things. So, when he finally explained himself, it sounded harsh even to his own ears. “Cut the act already. You looked miserable this morning.”

“Well, miserable’s not the word I would have used.” He turned away from him, focusing on folding up the game board instead. “Nostalgic, maybe.”

Yep, screwed that one up. He exhaled softly, wishing he could just borrow the other’s softhearted patience for the next five minutes. He rounded the table, taking residence in the spot beside him, tapping their knees together. “Sorry. I just know you have some heavy stuff on your mind and I don’t know how to ask about it without sounding like an insensitive jerk.”

Clover took his time to put the box top on before he responded. “No, it’s not you. Not really. I have been feeling pretty lost lately, but I was hoping you wouldn’t notice. Heh, guess I should have known better then to get something past Oz’s best spy.”

“Damn straight.” His chest swelled with pride. “I don’t get it though, why wouldn’t you want me to know?”

As rare as his frown, the other was suddenly hesitant as he ran a hand over the back of his head. “Because I didn’t want you to think I was regretting coming along with you.”

“I wouldn’t think that.”

He rose an eyebrow, and in a tone nearly identical to the one Qrow used on him, said, “Really?”

“I’ll – try not to think that.” He amended. “But I don’t want my stupid inhibitions to stop you from talking to me about stuff like this.”

“They’re not st-”

“Sshh, stop being my personal therapist for a sec and just listen.” Qrow placed his hand over one of Clover’s, taking a deep breath to calm his own nerves. Nothing to lose, right? “When we started to get to know each other, you saw right through all my bullshit almost immediately. It was – kind of annoying, actually. I’d been building up those walls my whole life and you just leapt right over them. Or, maybe you busted through ‘em with that hard head of yours.” He chuckled softly. “I didn’t know how to handle someone like you. What I really wasn’t expecting was that I’d grow to like it.”

The hand he was holding rotated, until their palms where touching instead, strong fingers squeezing his.

A smile tugged at his lips, the simple touch encouraging him to go on. It was funny. Eight months ago, he never imagined himself speaking like this, open and raw. “There are things I’ve been able to tell you that I’ve never even admitted to my own family before. It’s been so unbelievably freeing.” He rose his eyes, staring into deep teal. “But I don’t want this to be one-sided. What’s happening between us, it’s important to me. I know I’m not as good with this stuff as you, probably never will be, but I still want you to feel the same safety and ease I do.”

“Qrow…” Clover murmured, but words seemed to fail him. Instead he shifted towards him, enough so he could cup his jaw with his free hand and lean his body forward.

Qrow’s eyes slip closed as their lips touch, the lingering caress gentle yet searing. He could have stayed in that moment forever.

So, of course, his scroll buzzed and broke them apart.

He pulled it out, seeing a message from Tai.

What are you two doing? Making out?

Cheeky bastard.

He tapped back a response, reassuring him they were on their way. “I uh, heh, I got so caught up I kind of forgot I have a surprise for you.”

Clover’s face lit up immediately. It was rather cute. “What kind of surprise?”

“You’ll see.” He got to his feet, tugging him by their clasped hands.

It didn’t take more than that to convince his partner to his feet. He led him to the darkened kitchen, the shades drawn to keep the gift hidden just a little longer. As they came to stand in front of the door, he placed his hand on the knob, but didn’t turn it quite yet.

“I know there’s probably a lot you miss about Atlas and Mantle. Things I can’t really bring back.”  Qrow started, trying to cool his nerves. “But I wanted to try to give something to you, even if it’s just for today.”

He kept his eyes on him, even as he opened the door – meaning he didn’t miss a second of how Clover’s expression shifted from curiosity, to shock, to, finally, absolute wonderment as he took in the transformed backyard.

“SURPRISE!” Everyone shouted from their places around the winter wonderland they stood in.

With Penny, it hadn’t been quite as difficult to pull off as Qrow had feared it might. A few sheets of ice, and suddenly they had enough chill to make snow stick. Between boulder-sized ice chunks that the various blade-oriented fighters could shear into shavings and Tai’s old pressure nozzle that turned buckets of ice water into flakes, they soon had the majority of the yard covered – enough that they could shovel the snow into great big mounds. The overhang of the roof and all the nearby trees had real icicles hanging down. For the places they didn’t have time to reasonably cover, swathes of shimmery, white fabric were used instead, ribbons of it spiraled over the porch railing or along the still leafy tree-tops.

As they stepped out into the temporary, magical world, for the second time that day, Clover seemed a loss for words. “I… This is… How?”

“Do you like it? We worked all afternoon on it!” Ruby asked, perched onto one of the many snow mounds Yang had shoveled together.

Penny lifted a finger, adding methodically, “We followed all the exact specifications of a snow day for optimal fun.”

“It’s, incredible.” Clover said, grinning ear-to-ear. “You all didn’t have to do this for me.”

Weiss waved him off first. “Don’t be silly. Of course we did.”

“You’ve become a vital member of our team. If we can show our appreciation of that with such a gesture, then it’s our honor.” Ren surmised wisely.

“Yeah! Now get down here so we can kick your butt at a good ol’ fashioned snowball fight!” Yang pumped a fist in the air, the sentiment quickly echoed by Nora and Jaune.

Qrow smiled at the sound of his partner’s laughter, the mirth wiping away any doubts he’d had that this wasn’t the right call.

Blake glanced around. “Shouldn’t we make teams then?”

“Right! Teams of three!” Jaune called.

“Uh, maybe I’ll just sit this one out-” Oscar tried to back away.

“Nice try lil’ Ozcar!” Nora swept him into a chokehold. “Me, you and Ren are gonna take home the gold!”

“Qrow’s with me and Ruby!” Tai claimed.

“Yes!! You’re all going down!” Ruby cheered.

Yang threw her arms over Blake and Jaune’s shoulders, boasting right back, “Hah! Not when we’ve got Mr. Strategy!”

As everyone continued their false taunts, Qrow squeezed the hand he held one last time, before letting go and hopping over the railing to join his family.

“Hey wait! What about me?” Clover protested. “Don’t you want to be on a team with me?”

He turned around, smirking. “And miss the opportunity to bean you right in that perfect face of yours? No way.”

He looked mockingly hurt, which was quickly wiped away as Weiss announced “That’s fine.” She made her way over to Penny, the android practically beaming over being chosen. “He can be on ours. This is our element after all.”

Clover looked from them, back to Qrow, a smirk of his own growing as he made his way off the porch. “Well babe, you had your chance. Don’t regret it when we utterly thrash you.”

“We’ll see lucky charm. We’ll see.”

The battle lasted until the sun was going down, when the icicles had long ago dripped and fallen from their perches and the snow and ice underfoot was little more than slush and mud. They trekked inside, sitting around the roaring hearth and trading stories over a meal of soup and bread. As the night waned, one by one they started to turn in until only Qrow and Clover were left, lounging on the couch together while the embers faded in the fireplace. Head pillowed against the other’s clavicle, Qrow was content enough he started to drift.

On the edges of sleep a faint ‘I love you’ breathed over his hair.

As he slipped into his dreams, he smiled, because he realized that even if he could never truly give Clover back his old home, things would be alright.

They could create a new one together.

[steve-needs-a-hug]

“Home is where you really belong.”

Hey guys. So I’m seeing TRoS this Friday night, and I figured it’d be a good idea to share a little piece I wrote a couple months ago which is basically a possible TRoS ending. 

Brief summary: It starts off at the climax, with Rey having just defeated Kylo Ren in an epic battle. Things are about to take a dark turn but Rey has a change of heart. Poe lets off some steam he’d been keeping bottled up for a long time, and it ends happily with the trio and Chewie flying off safely in the Falcon. 

(It sounds benign, but I cried a lot after writing it because it got SO intense and emphasized a lot of the major themes that a lot of people seem to gloss over. It was a meaningful experience writing it, and I hope it’ll be a meaningful experience for you reading it.) *there is NO ship content except the Millennium Falcon lol*

“Can you see them?” Poe called to Finn.

“Not yet!” Finn shouted. He squinted through the window of the ship, searching through the thick cloud cover and heavy rain. Suddenly he saw flashes of blue light, followed by a flash of fiery red.

“Uh, I think I found them,” Finn called back to Poe. Poe and Chewie quickly descended the Falcon, now looking for a safe place to land on the wet, stormy planet. Finn was on edge, anxious about Rey’s safety; he wished he’d never let her go alone. As soon as the Falcon was on solid ground, he opened the door and rushed out, but what he saw stopped him short.

Kylo Ren was on his knees, slashes and burns on his face and all over his body. Rey fought him relentlessly with all the anger and rage in her heart, and now she stood tall over him, her lightsaber drawn to his throat. There was something different about her. Her eyes seemed to glow with an unnatural light, and Finn could have sworn he heard a sinister whisper in the air.

Rey glowered down at her defeated enemy. He’d hurt so many people. She could avenge them, right then and there. Rey started to become aware of a blackness creeping over her heart…it felt like she was being swallowed up with wrath. She closed her eyes, and suddenly there was only one thought in her mind – “Do it.” 

She opened her eyes again, but they were clouded by a red haze. “Do it. Do it. Do it.” She heard a voice in the distance calling her name, but it sounded so muffled and far away. She looked down at Kylo Ren and all she could see were painful, bitter memories of torture, violence, destruction, and lies. She could end it now and deliver Kylo Ren the justice he deserved. She was the punisher. She was the avenger. He thought he could teach her, turn her, but now he was completely at her mercy. She felt as if raw power was coursing through her veins. Rey now distinctly heard an old, gnarled voice. “Do what must be done, Rey. Do not hesitate, show no mercy.” Her grip on the lightsaber tightened. She began to lift up her arm to strike, to land the finishing blow and end the evil deeds of Kylo Ren once and for all. Suddenly a face began to take shape in her mind…an old face…careworn, but kind…a familiar woman.

Rey saw Leia’s sad eyes, Leia’s warm smile. She remembered Leia’s arms around her as she cried on the Princess’s shoulder. She remembered Leia sitting alone, her mind far away, dwelling on people and places long gone. Rey glanced downward at Kylo Ren, red blood dripping down his face and matting in his thick dark hair. Her stomach lurched when she looked at his eyes, big and brown just like his mother’s. It was hard for Rey to even believe that Kylo Ren was related to the people Rey looked up to most. As soon as Rey saw the eyes, she couldn’t unsee them. She couldn’t unsee Leia Organa’s only child in this broken monster of a man. Rey’s head started swimming as it raced to a future mere minutes from coming to pass…Kylo Ren’s blood spilt all over the ground. Would she leave his body there? Would they have to take it with them and bury it somewhere? Rey saw herself facing Leia once she returned. Her son’s blood on Rey’s clothes. She knew she would never be able to look Leia in the eye again. Just one more soul-shattering trauma to add to the Princess’s already burdened heart.

Rey detracted her lightsaber, the fury and heat of moments earlier abruptly replaced with bone-chilling cold. She blinked several times as the haze dissipated and she turned around to see Finn and Poe standing a small distance away, staring at her, frozen. Rey suddenly turned around and took off running straight towards them; Finn jumped, nervous that some darkness possessed Rey and turned her against them, but as she approached he saw her eyes back to their normal hazel colour, her face full of emotion. She nearly smashed into him, her arms tightly wrapped around and hands gripping Finn’s body for dear life. Finn had no clue what just happened but he knew she needed him right now, so he held her close and didn’t move or speak until she finally pulled away with teary eyes.

Kylo Ren felt the darkness envelope Rey in that moment. It was so thick in the air that he felt as if it was choking him. He saw her eyes glow with an uncanny orange light. He felt not only her fury, but an ancient spirit of hate and revenge overtaking her. Kylo knew what was coming next and he had nothing left in him to fight. He began to long for the blade to hit. At least the pain would be over. 

But then she looked at him like he was a human being, retracted her lightsaber, and…ran away. He struggled to focus on who was waiting for her in the distance…the traitor, of course. And that pilot. Rey was hugging Finn so tightly that Kylo wondered if Finn would break a rib (even on the brink of death, Kylo’s dry humour is never absent). Poe Dameron watched his friends embrace for a while, but his attention shifted to Kylo’s distant, slumped over figure. Kylo pulled in a shaky breath, knowing what was coming as Poe strode over to him. Poe stopped only a few feet away from Kylo and stared hard at him for a solid minute.

Poe badly wanted to slap Kylo Ren across the face, but as he neared him and saw Kylo’s wounds, he decided to express his feelings in a way that didn’t involve getting Kylo’s dark red blood on his hand.

“Interesting,” Poe finally said. “Last time we met, I was the one bleeding with you looming over me. You ripped my mind apart like it was a game to you, and my friend told me you did the same thing to her. You nearly killed Finn. You work for people who obliterated an entire system of populated planets. But you know what? You know what, Kylo?” Poe spat. “That’s not the worst thing you’ve done. None of it is.” Poe paused, eyes boring into Kylo, who faced the ground.

“She put up a brave face for the others, but I saw her. I saw her sitting quiet, alone, and I know she was thinking about you.”

Poe suddenly lunged forward. “Where’s her husband?! Huh?!” Poe shouted at Kylo.

“Where is he?!”

Kylo’s jaw clenched as hot tears streamed down his face, causing the wounds to sting even more. Finn, hearing Poe’s raised voice, walked over to see the scene unfold. Finn watched Kylo’s eyes, witnessing the resentment, shame, defiance, and regret he was experiencing all at once. He had never been so vulnerable.

“It’s only because of her that we didn’t kill you,” Poe bitterly whispered. Kylo finally looked up from the ground to meet Poe’s eyes through a curtain of dark messy hair over his bloodied face, opening his mouth slowly.

“I wish you had,” he croaked, pain breaking his voice. Poe didn’t flinch. Kylo Ren shut his eyes tightly, starting to wobble from the effort of keeping himself up on his knees. His head started to swim as he felt a familiar figure approaching him slowly.

Chewbacca stood over Kylo Ren and emitted a low, quiet groan. He remembered when this broken man was a happy young boy, with loving parents at his side. As Kylo slipped into unconsciousness, Chewie stooped down and picked him up with his strong, furry arms. Poe turned and headed back towards Rey and Finn as they watched Chewbacca carry Kylo into the Falcon, themselves standing outside a little longer. They remained silent for a moment. Rey noticed Poe’s reddened face and glassy eyes.

“He’ll pay for what he’s done,” Rey said quietly.  “It’s over now.”

Poe turned to her, eyes now glowing fiercely. “Is it? Is it really?” Finn blinked rapidly; he’d never seen his usually easy-going friend this intense until today.

“The Galaxy was peaceful until Darth Vader and the Empire showed up,” Poe continued. “Just when we thought things were going to be okay again, then here came this guy. How do we know there’s not going to be another maniac trying to take over the Galaxy?”

Finn placed his hands on his hips confidently. “If there is, they’ll have us to deal with.”

Rey smiled, and Poe shook his head and chuckled sadly. Finn’s expression then turned more serious.

“I’m done running,” he said. “I’m ready to stand and fight, as long as I have you two by my side.”

Rey put her arm around his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

“Where? Back to Jakku?” Finn joked, eliciting a laugh from Rey.

“Anywhere but there! No, my home…” Rey trailed off for a moment, pondering. Where’s home? Home is where you really belong. Then she finally knew the answer to the question she’d been asking all along.  “Wherever you guys are, that’s where home will be.”

Finn beamed, a huge grin on his face. Poe put his worries aside for the moment and smiled with his friends. Together they turned and walked back inside the Falcon. Kylo lay crumpled on a couch in the corner, his tattered black cape draped over him like a blanket. Chewie sat in the co-pilot’s chair, the sorrowful expression in his eyes lifting when he saw the young trio’s optimistic faces. Rey took a deep breath and plunked down beside him, gave him a loving pat on the back, and started preparing for takeoff. None of the people in that ship knew where life was going to take them or what the Force had in store for their future, but Rey, Finn, Poe, and Chewbacca knew that as long as they had each other, they were going to be all right.

                                                  THE END

[raiswanson]

15 OC Questions/Character Interview Tag-- Clifford

Rules: Pick a character from your WIP, and have them answer these 15 questions!

I was also tagged for this by @dove-actually! (You’re tagged back below if you want to interview another of your characters!) Thanks! Thanks to you I was able to do one for Cliff too! And where would we be with a Reg without a Cliff? ;) (Reg interview found here!)

~

1. What is your full name?

Clifford Ford. Yes, I know. “Ford Ford”. Don’t ask, my mother was very-- My family was a little different. They did their best.

2. What does your full name mean?

Honestly, whatever it actually means I can assure you it was given to me because Mom thought it sounded nice. She’d probably tell you it meant “blessing”. But I never thought to ask.

3. What are your nicknames/other names?

“Cliff” is the usual go-to. Reg called me “Clifferson” once when I gave him fuss over his name, though. Think that might take off? I rather like it.

4. What’s your gender?

I'm a man. And a rugged example of one, don’t you think? [winks]

5. What’s your sexuality?

Oh, anyone that catches my interest really. I’m not too picky. If you make good conversation and we suit one another’s tastes then I’m all yours.

6. Where are you from?

Just...a small village a few miles off...outside of town. You’ve probably never been. It’s very reclusive. No need to dwell there. Next question?

7. How old are you?

Twenty-six years young and counting. Oh, don’t look so surprised. It’s the beard. Makes me look older.

8. What is your magic form/What species are you?

Hahahaha, oh, wow. Okay. Well, despite what those around the office might say, I’m not a werewolf. I know, I know, I’m about as furry as one, but I’m very much human I assure you--the Watch can attest to that, they’d be happy to execute me for lycanthropy if they could.

Mind, I’m not at all offended by the comparison. Werewolves are good folk, but well...you know. Important that no one believes those rumors. Lots of people around here attack first, think never, and I can’t help the wolves out from my side if a mob leaves me dead in a gutter now can I?

9. What does your human form look like?

I’m a devilishly handsome specimen of a man, can’t you tell? Red-brown hair, nice beard--I forgot to trim before this interview, apologies, it’s usually much tidier--and I think that my arms might be thicker around than your waist. Are you eating alright? Do you want to get some food after this? Hodge’s makes an amazing cassowary omelet and it’s almost time for my lunch break.

10. What’s your aesthetic?

Hmm. Can you make an aesthetic out of wood carvings? Is wooden animals and good food an “aesthetic”?

11. Who’s your best friend?

Ah. Well. It’s rather...it’s a little hard to come by friends as a werewolf sympathizer in a place like Srivet. Especially in the guard. I’m trying to get people to come around, but it’ll be a while. For now I’ve only really got Mickey and if I called her my best friend she’d probably say that was the most pathetic thing she ever heard in her life, so...I’ll get back to you?

12. Would you ever get a piercing/tattoo?

Sure, if I had a mind to. I don’t really. Kids like Reg can get by with them but Central would be up my ass for piercings what with all the trouble I cause them, and as intrigued as I am by tattoos I’m afraid I have a few too many scars to humor the idea. Maybe a small one? I might have at least one spot clear enough to be inked. Hmm.

13. When are you happiest?

Hmm, this is a hard one to answer. I’m a happy enough guy, I think. I’m happy in good company, with good food, getting a day off to sleep in...but I suppose that I’m happiest at the times where there’s no deadline looming--or one I can ignore--and I can sit back in my office in the nice orange glow of the afternoon with my whittling in peace. No one bursting in with papers to file or emergencies to tend. Just me, my desk, my knife, and my current project.

14. What’s your biggest secret?

Ah, well, that is a personal question isn’t it? Rather bold. I suppose I ought to reward that. Come on, lean in. My big secret is...I was raised by wolves. Hahahaha. I know--shocking, right? The big hairy man that runs around getting werewolves off the streets was raised by them. Who would have thought?

You don’t believe me? Ah, no one does. It’s the truth though, honest! Hahaha

15. What was your first impression of Reg?

Well my immediate impression was that he was a thief, considering I watched him lift a book right of a stall on Market Street. Then I caught up with him and realized he was one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever-- I mean did you see his eyelashes-- erm. I mean. [coughs] He seemed like your usual scared kid off the street that’s been traumatized by the Watch’s tactics and constant fear of werewolf attacks. And then, y’know...he stabbed me in the leg. We had an eventful meeting, there’s a lot to unpack. But I know he’s a good kid deep down. He just needs some place safe to stay so that kid can come out of hiding.

Tag game tag list! (Join in if you want!)

@helenpowers @typeaadventures @tundra-tiger  @jesse-is-inarguably-purple @inkandkeyboard @scribbledwriting @lilymaidofgallifrey @booksaremymeth @otramble @dqwrites @jade-island-lives @jaidynwrites @lady-redshield-writes  @authorloremipsum @thewitchthetimeladythehuntress @midgardianthief @dwobbit-under-the-mountain @sincerestaffect @universalfanfic  @siarven @paper-shield-and-wooden-sword  @authordai @vulpixofwin  

And some new tag-ins for some new acquaintances? (if you don’t want to be tagged in tag games just gimme a shout!) @incandescent-creativity @dove-actually @fictionshewrote @ren-c-leyn  

[kyluxnichekinks]

Kylux Werewolves and Shapeshifters Rec List

Ah yes, two of my favorite themes: Werewolves and shapeshifters. Those who know me in this fandom know me for being a complete and utter monsterfucker. I was very excited to do this rec list and could hardly wait until the end of the month to finally post this. But we’re here, so let’s get started!

The Smoke Before The Flames by @solohux​ Words: 7234 Completed Armitage Hux is the sacrfice to be made to keep the dragon from burning down his village, but the dragon is not what he expected.

Starting off with the general shapeshifter category is this lovely gem! Dragon!Kylo and not so virginal!Hux! This was a very fun and enjoyable read for me, so I advise you check it out.

Witchfeather by Whatever21ism  Words: 16015 WIP Armitage Hux is a new witch trying to establish himself in a new town. One day he goes out seeking a familiar, particularly a cat, somehow instead he ends up with a raven who is much more than they appear to be.

Witch Hux and raven!Kylo. It’s been a fresh second since I’ve read this fic but it was very enjoyable from what I remember. I may have to give it another reread sometime soon.

Shiver The Whole Night Through by @theweddingofthefoxes​ Words: 7977 Completed Ren's always loved hunting, so when he's told his paid time off won't roll over into the next year, he decides to take a week, get his gun and rent a cabin in the woods. But it takes no time at all for the hunter to become the hunted.

This one is a perfect Halloween fic honestly. I remember the atmosphere was very spooky and intrigueing to read. Mind the tags of course but give it a read if you can!

Dark Side of the Moon by @furrygeneralhux Words: 7906 WIP This was not happening to Hux. He was not shifting into a giant maned wolf on the night of his date with Kylo Ren. Absolutely not, this was some sort of terrible dream. But why did it feel so real?

A shameless self rec, but it’s a werewolf Hux fanfic! Specifically he’s a Maned Wolf, aka a long leggy boy. I just posted Chapter 2 for this, so if you can tolerate the tags, give it a read!

Twenty-Six Weeks by @vmprsm​ Works: 4 Completed: Says no but I’m pretty sure it is Two mature adults need to do two things: live an a house with a stranger for six months, and keep their secrets to themselves. How hard could that be? Apparently very.

Yes I’m gonna rec this again, I very much enjoyed this series from vmp (along with everything she generally writes). Give it a read if you haven’t yet!

You Big Bad Wolf by @insanitysqueen Words: 12780 Completed Hux meets an interesting person online. They chat, having the same kind of kinks and this 'REN' has a truly artful way of composing dirty messages, but never lets go of that werewolf-persona from when they first began to talk. Though Hux doesn't feel intimidated enough to turn down the invitation to this gorgeous strangers home. Especially during a weekend where the full moon will be shining.

I absolutely loved this fic. I can see it happening so easily, and honestly Hux is such a mood.

Dream-Maker by @unicornsandbutane Words: 7979 Completed Response to this kyluxhardkinks prompt: “Modern AU, Hux has just found out that werewolves are a real thing and that his boyfriend, Kylo, is one of them. Having a sexual attraction to monsters, Hux is all for this and practically begs Kylo to fuck and knot him on that huge werewolf dick. Bonus points if Ren comes buckets in his werewolf form and involves breeding.”

This hardkinks prompt was a godsend I swear, I was so thrilled when a bunch of fics came out all around the same time and were all unique in their own ways. This one like the rest on this list was amazing and I highly suggest you give it a read!

Silent in the Trees by @werewolf-kylo-ren​ Words: 33291 WIP Hux has inherited one of his late father's estates, way out in the country. He's going through all of the organizing, contemplating what the hell to do with all of the mess, contemplating if he even WANTS the estate... It's hard enough as it is, without a lonely and very childish werewolf venturing out of the nearby woods, his backstory a mystery to be solved. A story of love, murder, werewolves, and ANGST.

Ah yes, one of the first examples of werewolf sex that I can recall occurring in Kylux (I could be wrong but this left an impression on my furry heart ok). Do mind the tags on this one, but its defs worth the read!

Fang & Bang by @sparrowlicious​ Words: 10680 Completed Armitage Hux is an ancient vampire who tries to live his life as a good citizen. Kylo Ren is his werewolf neighbor who caught his eye shortly after he moved in two months ago.

One night during a full moon Kylo Ren ends up on Hux's couch uninvited. Hux sees it as an opportunity to get to know him better...

Something about werewolfKylo and vampireHux fics get me. This one is really cute and enjoyable, give it a read!

Pounded in the Butt by My Gay Werewolf Boyfriend by @aiambia Words: 5553 Completed Hux can hardly believe it: His boyfriend is a werewolf. He should be afraid or concerned at the very least...but all he can think about is getting fucked by that thick werewolf dick.

Look you can’t read the title of this fic and not read it. Honestly I’m a big fan of aiambia’s writing, its so enjoyable to read. This one was particularly delicious to read, thanks for posting it aiambia!

If there’s a fic I didn’t include that you think I should include, let me know!

[yakumtsaki]

I only call you when it's half past five, the only time that I'll be by your side, I only love it when you touch me, not feel me, when I'm fucked up, that's the real me, when I'm fucked up, that's the real me, BABE ♪

Here we fucking go again, desperately trying to make the fuckboi wolf commit to a serious relationship. My plan to turn Komei into a werewolf crashed and burned last generation and Jojo has had the want locked for like 10 years and it just won’t fucking happen. I’ve never had a non-cheaty werewolf in this game, I don’t know how other people do it but I’m having a ridic hard time with it. Victor’s ghost is judging me and who can blame him.

Speaking of, Shajar’s makeover is this wolf shirt, and yes, full shade intended. I still can’t believe she rolled popularity, way to single out your weakest spot and make it your life’s purpose. I mean that would be like Wyatt rolling fam-  ..nevermind.

UGH. Will you pick a fucking attitude and stick with it you furry asshole??? 

What kind of defective cuck wolf even is this. He won’t befriend us but he won’t attack either, he just sits around with his plastic bone playing house. USELESS. I didn’t know it was possible to hate a digital animal this much..

..but here comes Maxx to defy all expectations. Happy birthday Maxx, you look so wholesome and Lassie-like, I’m sure life with you will be like a vacation!

LOL. Is antagonizing Sophie really how you want to start your adult life, Maxx?? Well I guess having eyes is overrated.

SOPHIE WTF. You beat Victor but can’t take on this flop? Where is your holy warrior spirit??

- I’m old af and starting to worry about my eternal soul, so I’m literally turning the other cheek.

Nice, thanks for nothing. God I miss Victor.

Man, Maxx has ISSUES. He doesn’t even have a mean personality or a bad relationship with the cats, why are you like this you freak??

NOOOO not the fucking pet fight club again omg MAXX YOU DICK

Great, amazing job, Goro! The real Goro is rolling in his grave. All this went down in literally under a minute after Maxx grew up, talk about determination. 

-HA, kneel before Zod!

That’s not even from Mortal Kombat, Maxx, god, can you not make this worse than it is?

-Yea like I give a shit, what am I, some kind of fatass nerd cat?? I’m a dog, bitch, I like running..

Omg.

-And playing outside..

OMG.

-And being affectionate to my owners!

STOP. Christ, what kind of monster have I brought into our lives???

-One day in and I’m already the alpha.. Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy? Oh yes, Maxx is.. The best boy. And soon this cat legacy.. will be history.. the Age of Dog.. is finally.. upon us. 

💔💔💔💔💔

Not that we needed further proof that Maxx was given to us straight out of Satan’s unholy womb, but guess who else loves him on top of Cyneswith?? Why, Wyatt, of course, chief of police married to a serial killer, truly the best judge of character the world has ever known. Show me your friends..

..and I’ll show you who you are. UGH DAGMAR

-As a mailwoman I’m programmed to hate your kind, but I feel such a connection between us.. It’s like the universe conspired-

GTFO. Don’t test me, istg I’ll marry you in..

..you actually don’t look half bad compared to what else is out there. Shajar brings Toadface McBooberson here home from school which. why does bigger cleavage clothing even exist for teens and why do I have it, I really need to stop downloading default replacements in the dark. Anyway, hope you’re all ready for the adventure called ‘What is Shajar’s sexual orientation/does she even have one’!

Ugh, this certainly feels familiar. Shajar please, PLEASE fight your Jojo genes, I mean everyone loves Cyneswith, this is shaping up to be Gunter/Jojo volume 2 AND I CAN’T DEAL WITH IT AGAIN

-So, Butterface, my ambition in life is to have my own music theme play whenever I enter a room, like Darth Vader or Mary Poppins-

-Isn’t the sound of people already in the room sighing enough of a theme for you?

-Well it looks like one little frog around here isn’t getting turned into a princess!

Yea, I really don’t know what I expected?? Those who do not learn history are doomed to repeat it.

Speaking of daddy dearest, let’s check in. How’s it going, Jo? Great? Thought so, ok bye-

-DON’T YOU DARE PAN AWAY AND LEAVE ME TO MY MISERY MY ASPIRATION IS SCARLET RED

I’m sorry Jo but I’m a hear no evil, see no evil, spend-legacy-time-on-no-evil type of bitch and your life just bums me out at this point. But if it’s any consolation, it’s all your fault!

-HOW THE HELL IS IT MY FAULT I DIDN’T SIGN UP FOR THIS BULLSHIT

Um, YEA YOU DID. This is generation 2, we’re barely middle class and being heir is quite literally a shit job. Of course you could have minimized the impact had you chosen someone else to marry, but you just HAD to have Wyatt Narcolepsy Monif so.. talk to you later?

-Wyatt I’m worried our ship is sinking and no amount of rotting birthday cake can ease the pain.

-Oui, my estomac hurts toό.. Nothing 14 heures of sleepé won’t remédit of coursé :)

-DIDN’T NEED SUCH A GRAPHIC REMINDER THAT LIFE IS GARBAGE

God, wtf more do you want, 15k and still whining-

-OH. Well this just has Wyatt written all over it, but omg he tried to do a household task, just got confused at the very end. Bravo, leaps and bounds!

Meanwhile Shajar is having a successful interaction with a family member!! It’s a toddler who can’t get away, but whatever, it counts. Looks like this is a game-changing night for everyone.

-YES IT REALLY IS.

Jojo how about you take a page out of Komei’s book and devote your leftover energy to cats or cooking contests or banging Marissa Bendett instead of this constant, obnoxious guilt-tripping?? Man I really didn’t appreciate Komei while I had him.

7 a.m., the usual morning lineup, start on the chores and sweep 'till the floor's all clean, polish and wax, do laundry, and mop and shine up, sweep again, and by then it's like 7:15,  

and so I'll read a book, or maybe two or three, I'll add a few new paintings to my gallery, I'll play guitar and knit, and cook and basically-

-just wonder when will my life begin? ♪

And of course that’s Victor making his nightly appearance and helping put Jojo out of his misery. What a sweetheart!

With the addition of Wulf and his 10 active points generation 3 has officially evolved past sleep, we’re talking 10/10/9 (Shajar you lazy bum) and it’s seriously exhausting. You know how when sims are asleep you can check your phone or eat smth or w/e, yea that’s simply not happening anymore, I’m in constant vigilance all night long..

..and thank god because otherwise I would have missed Allegra and Victor’s ghosts playing??? WTF MAXIS. I’ve never seen this before and it’s the rare combo of sad and adorable. Right in the feels ❤️💔

THAT WASN’T AN INVITATION TO EXPRESS YOUR SADNESS FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME JOJO

Oh “ok” it’s a cockroaches related freak-out. I don’t see anyone else crying over them but that’s Jojo for you. Exterminator bro if you’re that grossed out by a pile of dead insects I have some bad news for you regarding your profession. And while we’re on the topic of professions and crying:

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. You may recall that Wyatt has been one promotion away from his LTW for about 150 years and all we’ve been doing since is trying to amass the 8 friends needed for it. Welp, we finally got them through our blood, sweat and tears, so what does Wyatt do the day he was supposed to get promoted?? Get fired of course, what else! 

Honestly I’m not even mad, this truly is like the culmination of everything we know Wyatt to be. I mean just cast your minds back to the final moments of this post. We knew what we were getting into. Rock on, Wyatt!

-Nό, there is no disgracéd police capitaine in this maison! Quelle?? I’m not even Français! Et toi shouldn’t be calling personnes at 5 p.m when everyόné is sound asleép!

Time for the black sheep to get the full Kylo Ren treatment. Looking good, Shaj! Now let’s put that hot makeover to use-

-NO.

Here we go, HUMAN contact. Toadface was a bust so let’s try a dude. Shajar do you mind talking about something other than your dead pets??

-But I don’t want to talk about anything else!

Yea and I don’t want to overstate things but I’m getting the distinct feeling finding you a partner is gonna make Daniel’s run at it look like Californication.

Well, the data we’ve gathered so far points to Shajar being a noogiesexual, I’m sure somewhere on tumblr there already exists a pride flag for it. 

That’s right, mop up the dog piss from that grass and think about the face you present to the world.

HOW IS YOUR ASPIRATION GONE TO SHIT AGAIN. WTF ARE YOU DOING WHEN I’M NOT LOOKING, GOING AROUND FACING YOUR FEARS?? JFC

-I have a perma fear of leading the miserable life I’m trapped in.

-Oh look, my kid is potty trainted and I get 5k points.. I’m soooo happy... Definitely don’t miss my serial killer days...

Ok I can’t take this anymore, either Wyatt will have to take up more household duties..

..or we can aim for something within the realm of reality and build a robot servant instead. And if you’re thinkering you’re not whining! Everyone wins.

In the dead of the night, a time when only 12 year old children are awake and watching god knows what-

-Game of Thrones! Team Stark!

Ugh, of course you are-

-Wulf grows up! 

-Woo happy birthday Wulf! Don’t even try to come for my golden child crown, I’m as perfect as my grades.

I don’t like what Game of Thrones is doing to you, Cyn.

First thing Wulf does after his pj makeover is head for the keyboard, which makes the choice for his general makeover clear as day:

Wulf...Wolf...WOLFGANG. I mean, some things are just written in the stars..

..AND SOME THINGS AREN’T, in this case Shajar’s dating life. We get another Butterface McBooberson (wtf is it with this dress in this town) but this one is also sporting terrible hair as a bonus. Score!

Great, we’ve moved from music themes to dead pets to world domination. At least we’re committing to the Kylo persona. Butter 2.0 is into it?? Get a grip girl.

-Um why do you think I have this last century hair? I’m very into monarchy.

This is not only going non-disastrously but dare I say, well?? I can’t tell if I want it to work or not though, on one hand I’ve made my feelings about this face template abundantly clear.. on the other hand this is the first human (except her 10 nice point sister) to like Shaj.. 

..thankfully it looks like there’s no need to solve that dilemma after all. Btw at the time of this writing I literally still don’t know if Shajar is into girls or dudes, or both. No reaction to anyone whatsoever. 

Meanwhile even after the noogie Butter is super receptive and doesn’t hate us? I was as shocked as you are, if we were rich I’d think she has some ulterior motive but nop, it’s just low standards. God bless them-

-cause we made our first friend!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank the fucking lord Shajar’s LTW isn’t friend related, take a wild guess what it is instead.. And of course, the answer is ‘become Mayor’. I can just see the banner now: ‘vote Shajar Union or face the deadly consequences’.

-Ahh my dear, finally, no screaming toddlers ruining my life while you pretend you can’t hear them.. Now I can slowly start un-resenting you.. Maybe there’s hope for this marriage after all..

Not if Cyneswith has anything to do with it! After spending her entire childhood cockblocking by sleeping in her parents’ bed, she literally grew up just as they were about to woohoo for the first time in 10 years. how in character. Wanna know what isn’t in character??? Hold on to your seats, everyone..

............

....................................

..............................................

OK THEN. Much like Wolfgang there is but one appropriate look for the above:

Did anyone think fucking Lolita Cyneswith was remotely possible, let alone probable?? ROMANCE?? And into the elderly???? I thought that combo was bad enough, I mean then you bring in the tinkering factor on top of it and it’s like, Waylon Fairchild and college profs won’t know what hit them.. How naive I was. Things can always, always get worse, and in this family, they usually do. You can probably tell where I’m going with this.. Fast forward a few days and the LTW shows up..

..........................................yup. You know it’s been months and you’d think I’d have articulated a response by now that isn’t just screaming or miscellaneous incoherent sounds, and yet! what can I say, sometimes emotions are so powerful that words fail us. In lieu of a written reaction please listen to this song after the specified time stamp. It’s 3 minutes long and the only lyric is ‘oh no’.

[cant-icle]

For the 200 follower promptaganza can I request an angsty (although with a happy end) Werewolf!Ryuji x Akira/Ren fic please?

“Look, I’m not expecting you to want to talk, but I feellike we need to. There’s some things we should discuss before you just shut meout completely, right? You’re my best friend. I...though we were getting to becloser than that, even. Can you...will you call me back? Please? I miss you.”

Akira hangs up the phone and barely keeps himself fromthrowing it at the wall. It’s been threedays. Three entire days sincehe’s so much as seen Ryuji, three days with no response over the phone orthrough text, and the anxiety would be clawing its way up his throat if Annhadn’t told him she’d visited him yesterday.

He doesn’t know what he did wrong, that’s the thing—if he did something, Ryuji should’ve toldhim, so he could’ve fixed it and not just ghostedhim. And it’s not like—he doesn’t even know where Ryuji lives, Ryuji always comes to Leblanc to hang out, so it’s not likehe can bring over some soup if he’s sick.

He’d thought—he’d really thought that maybe, they might begetting somewhere that night in Inokashira Park, when Ryuji’d put his hand ontop of Akira’s and leaned in, and the full moon was so beautiful in his eyesthat Akira’d blurted something stupid—

Is that what thiswas all about? The stupid thing he’d said? Something like “The full mooncouldn’t compare to your eyes,” god,Akira cringes so hard thinking about it that his shoulders touch his ears.Okay, yeah, if someone said that to himmaybe he’d ghost them for a while. But still!

It sucks, and he sucks, and his life sucks, and it’s makingPhantom Thievery very difficult without his right-hand man at his, well, righthand. He gets knocked on his ass three times during a single fight in Mementosbefore Queen all but drags him back to the Mona-Mobile.

He’s not sulking.

(He’s maybe sulking.)

When he tries to slink off at the entrance to Mementos, Anngrabs his arm. “You’re this torn up about it?” she says like she already knowsthe answer.

“He won’t answer any of my messages,” Akira mutters,scuffing his shoe along the floor with his hands in his pockets. “I don’t knowif he’s dead or sick or hit in the road somewhere or arrested or—“

“I can guarantee that he’s none of those—or, well, most ofthose. He might’ve been hit in the road.”

“Ann, don’t saythat—“

“Ugh, boys andtheir feelings,” Ann groans, and tugson his arm. “You probably would’ve found out sooner or later, but if you’regonna be distracted enough in Mementos that you’re getting your butt whooped bya Pixie—“

She leads him to a line that leads out towards the edges ofthe city. It’s still early in the day; the train isn’t packed enough that theyhave to stand, but Ann refuses to answer any of his questions and spends theentire ride messing around on her phone.

They ride for almost an hour and a half, long enough thatthey pass the suburbs and get into fields and forests, and the train car is allbut empty when they disembark. It’s hot; hot enough that Akira regrets wearinghis overshirt and rolls the sleeves up as high as they’ll go.

The road, once they leave the station, is unpaved. Ann leadshim down it for nearly twenty minutes, confidence in every inch of her body,every step that she takes. Somehow, she looks more like she belongs out herethan she does in Tokyo.

She leads him to a house, big and sprawling, that backs ontoa long field backed by a deep, dark stretch of forest. Akira expects thatthey’ll knock, but Ann just opens the door and walks right in, bold and brazenas you please, toeing off her shoes once she gets inside. “Ann,” Akira says,low and uncertain, “what—“

That’s when the biggest fucking dog he’s ever seen in hisgoddamn life steps into the hallway, its claws clicking on the linoleum, it’sears tilted up and at them. It’s big and black and bushy and one of the mostbeautiful things Akira’s seen in his life. “Holy shit,” he breathes in awe and delight (and a little bit ofapprehension,) “Ann, look at how big that dog is, what the fuck.”

The dog laughs athim.

Literally. It drops its jaw and huffs, front paws shufflingback and forth on the floor as its tail swishes once-twice behind it. “Oh mygod,” Akira groans, dropping down to his knees. For a brief moment he doesn’treally care where he is or what’s going on, because if there’s anything KurusuAkira loves in his life, it’s dogs.

(Don’t tell Morgana.)

“Hey, do you—is it friendly?” He looks up at Ann, who hasboth hands slapped over her mouth looking like she’s trying not to laugh athim. “Ann, is it—“

The dog laughs at him again and clicks its way down thehallway, shoving its face into Akira’s. He’s greeted with a muzzle full of verysharp, very white teeth as the dog sniffs his face, his ears, his hands, andfinishes off with a big sloppy lick right across his glasses. Ann loses herfight with laughter at that, even more so when the dog shoves its head into thegap between Akira’s arm and his side. Seriously, it’s huge. It dwarfs him while he’s kneeling—it’s gotta weight at leasta hundred kilo, easy.

He’s finger-combing his way through the dog’s thick ruffwhen he realizes that Ann’s further down the hall, talking to someone. He leansback and up to look, but the dog rolls over and exposes its belly veryappealingly – welp, his belly,clearly—and wriggles in invitation, distracting Akira enough that Ann andwhoever she’s talking to are almost on top of him before he looks up again.

“Akira,” Ann says, laughter in every line of his body, “I’dlike to introduce you to Sakamoto-san, Ryuji’s aunt. Ryuji, get off the floorand stop making an idiot of yourself.”

Akira stands and makes polite introduction before Ann’ssecond sentence sinks in. “You, um, named your dog after your nephew?” heblurts out before he can help himself. Sakamoto-san, Ann, and the dog laugh at him.

Or, well...now that Akira’s looking closer, it looks morelike a wolf than a dog—it’s got the big triangular ears, the long, slendermuzzle, the narrow eyes and very large teeth. Maybe a mixed-breed? A wolf-dog?They have that sort of thing, right?

Wolf-dog-Ryuji follows him around the house whileSakamoto-san makes pleasant talk and insists that they stay for lunch; eachtime Akira stops, dog-Ryuji shoves his head under Akira’s hand. Dog-Ryuji istall enough that Akira can rest his hand on his back and ruffle his fur whileAkira is standing; dog-Ryuji is also shedding fit to burst, leaving long, softfur all over his hands and his leg.

Out of habit, he takes his phone out and levels it atdog-Ryuji; dog-Ryuji tilts his head and drops his jaw, just a bit, in a caninesmile. It’s a cute picture; he saves it and sends a copy to Ryuji out of habitwith the caption met your namesake today.

Across the room, attached to a charger on the kitchencounter, Ryuji’s phone goes off.

As it turns out, dog-Ryuji isn’t a namesake. As it turns out, it’s a wolf, and it’s alsoregular Ryuji.

“Hold up,” Akira blurts in the middle of the explanationSakamoto-san tries to give him, grabbing onto Ryuji’s head and staring himstraight in the eye. Ryuji makes a grumble in the back of his throat and foldshis ears back in appeasement, shuffling his paws and wagging his tail. “So youmean—all this time you’ve been hamming it up, watching me make an idiot ofmyself—“

Ryuji nods, and drops his jaw to grin a little wider. Hiseyes are the same, a warm chocolate brown. “I would’ve thought you’d be blond.”

“Nah,” Ann says, “he dyes his hair. It doesn’t carry overwith the transformation.”

Akira has a lot of questions. Like, a whole lot of them. “Is this why you ran off the other night?” heasks, a little tentative. Ryuji whines and pushes himself up onto his haunchesto drape his forepaws over Akira’s shoulders. He then proceeds to swipe histongue very messily over Akira’s face, over and over and over again until he’showling in laughter and his glasses have been knocked off somewhere.

They’ve got a lot totalk about, that’s for damn sure, but in the meantime it’s nice to have Ryuji’shead warm and heavy on his lap, and it’s nice to run his fingers through Ryuji’sthick fur and scratch behind his ears hard enough to hear his tail thumping onthe ground behind them. Ryuji’s just as cute a wolf as he is a human; so whatif he goes all furry a few times a year? It’s something Akira thinks he canbring himself to deal with.

(things i wanted to fit in but couldn’t figure out how:

ryuji’s extended family has a massive property outside of tokyo bc werewolfism runs in the family, it’s basically a pack house for the times when they have to be transformed

in this the full moon is a very strong call; they can resist it for one moon, but no more than that, and if they forcibly stay human for too long they’ll be stuck as a wolf for like a week or so when they can’t resist anymore (like stretching a rubber band too far or smth whatever this is just a small prompt why am i trying to plot)

[melon-wing]

Full Moon

This Story was inspired by @gridoc ‘s fanart found here

Grian laid on the soft grass, looking up at the blue sky. The smell of flowers was all around him and he could hear birds tweeting. He loved this part of being a Hippie. He seriously should have tried something like this way sooner. It was so relaxing after a stressful day of working. And the plus side was, he could always be close to his boyfriend. His eyes landed on Ren sitting on top of his RV, playing a few notes on his guitar and humming no song in particular to himself. This was perfect. Or as Impulse had said, the ‘Disgustingly sweet life of a freshly married couple’. And while they weren’t really married or anything like that, the living together thing, albeit temporary, was something new, that both of them enjoyed a lot.

Grian stretched and stood up as the sun started to get closer to the horizon, walking over to Ren, who stopped playing the instant he noticed him and jumped down from his RV.

“Hey, beautiful!”

Grian smiled, stepped up to his boyfriend and gave him a chaste kiss. “Hello there, Handsome.” He distantly heard a gagging sound from the direction of Impulse’s RV, but chose to ignore it. “So what do you say to a nice dinner? Stress taught me a really nice recipe and I thought I could try it tonight. We could even bust out some candles and make it really romantic.”

Ren’s smile faltered and he shook his head. “Sorry not today. It’s… not good. I need to be alone, you know. There’s a full moon tonight.”

Grian sighed and stepped back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He hated it when Ren disappeared once a month during the full moon without telling him anything at all. He had tried asking so often now but never gotten a satisfying answer. Depending on Ren’s mood he either got no answer at all, or was distracted with kisses. Only one time he had told Grian that it was dangerous during the full moon, but refused to give any further explanation.

Ren noticed his foul mood – he always did – and soon soft lips covered his. He opened his mouth begrudgingly at first, but soon got to enjoy his apology make out session. When they separated, both a little out of breath his mood had indeed gotten a little better.

“I’ll make it up to you. Let’s take tomorrow off. No building, no digging. We’ll lock the RV and rock the wheels.” Grian grinned at the idea.

There was another annoyed groan coming from Impulse’s RV. “Oh dear god. I’ll take tomorrow off then. Have fun guys! Don’t break the RV.”

They looked at Impulse and then at each other and laughed, everything else forgotten.

Everything was just perfect.

~*~

Grian loved their new world. He really did. But part of him missed the old place. Getting around had been so easy there. He had been able to see Ren every day and they had spend a lot of nights together. Now it took hours upon hours of rowing for one of them. It was their own fault that they had settled so far apart, but there was nothing you could do about that. They were both builders and once a builder fell in love with a spot, nothing could change that.

Grian swore to try and get an Elytra as soon as he was able to. Maybe he could ask his neighbour Scar for some help. But that had to wait for another day. At the moment Grian was busy collecting sand for his little Hobbit Hole. He really couldn’t carry a lot unfortunately and he hated it. He had to take so many trips to gather all the materials.

As he rowed back, the sun was already setting. He didn’t really fear the night, as long as there were no phantoms flying around. Wait… When was the last time he had slept in a bed? Damn, now that he thought about it, there was a high chance of phantoms spawning around him. Maybe it would be better to spend the night somewhere else. Or to find someone with a bed.

Grian took his communicator out and looked at the coordinates, a smile forming on his face. He was really close to Ren’s little island. Maybe he could go there and crash for the night.

<Grian> Hey Ren. I’m out on the ocean. High chance of phantoms. Can I crash at your place?

Grian waited for a few minutes, watching the setting sun and it’s reflection on the water. There was no answer. Their chat wasn’t really busy today at all. Most of them were working hard and not looking at their communicators.

<Grian> I’ll just come by. If you are not there, I’ll just use your bed. Feel free to join me ;)

Grian put his communicator away and got back to rowing. When he reached ‘Loser Island’ the sun’s last rays were already fading over the water. He had made it just in time. He tied his boat to the dock and went over to Pamela, petting the cow on its head and handing her a piece of wheat before continuing on to the hut.

“Ren?!”, he called out as he opened the door.

There was nobody inside.

“Ren you there?”, he called again. He heard a noise from down below were he knew Ren was working on his base and smiled. Without hesitation he jumped down the hole and landed with a splash in the water down below.

“Ren?”, he asked, looking around and getting out of the water. Damn this place had gotten huge since the last time he’d been here.

Before he could look around for his boyfriend his communicator gave of a series of beeps as a number of messages came in. Maybe Ren wasn’t here after all and had messaged him now.

He took out the communicator and looked at it.

<Docm77> Don’t go there, Grian!

<Docm77> Please answer me! Go somewhere else

<Docm77> Grian tell me you didn’t go. It’s dangerous!

Grian looked at the messages in confusion. What the hell was going on with Doc? He never spammed the chat like that. And what was he going on about?

<Grian> I’m already in his base’s lower level. What is going on, Doc?

There was nothing dangerous in Ren’s base. Sure, it was a little dark, but not dark enough for Mob’s to spawn. The torches lit the place up and the full moon was shining through the window. His communicator beeped again.

<Docm77> You idiot! Run! Get out! I’m coming!

Wait… The full moon? Grian raised his head from his communicator to look through the glass front, seeing the moon rise through the ocean water.

Hadn’t Ren told him to never ever visit him during a full moon? Was he up to something dangerous during that time?

There was a rustling sound behind him. Grian’s heart was beating frantically as he turned around. Something was moving slowly by the wall in the shadows.

“Ren? Is that you? This is not funny.”, he called to the shadow. There was a low growling sound and Grian jumped a little. “Ren…?”

The shadow moved a little and finally the torch light revealed it. Grian’s breath hitched, his eyes widened and fear grabbed his heart. The communicator dropped from his hands falling to the floor. At the other side of the room was a giant wolf with sharp teeth and huge claws and it was staring out of glowing red eyes directly at him.

He wanted to scream, but only a silent whimper left his mouth. That was no mob he had ever seen. It was huge, almost double Grian’s size. And he didn’t have his diamond sword with him.

The eyes of the creature were fixed on him. A tongue darted out of its mouth to lick over the glistening teeth, and finally Grian was able to move again. He tried to ignore the pains that came from a whole day of digging sand and sprinted towards the bubble elevator. He needed to get out of here. With its size the creature probably wouldn’t be able to follow him through the tight space.

But just as he had began moving the wolf started to run as well and it was faster than him. He needed to hurry up. He needed to get out of here. He didn’t want to die here.

He was almost there. He would make it. His hand already hit the water as he reached for it, when something hit him in the side, throwing him to the floor. He skidded over the rough stone for a few metres and then came to a halt, panting heavily. He hurt all over from the tackle and from the stone grating away his jumper and into his skin. He stood up on shaking legs, trying to ignore all the scratches. The wolf stood between him and the exit now. There was no way he could get out of here. This was the only exit. He could try to get out of the glass front if he was able to break it, but without any gear on him there was no way he’d be fast enough and the water pressure would be hard to fight any ways.

He tried not to move. Maybe it wouldn’t notice him. Maybe it wouldn’t go after him if he didn’t trigger its instincts.

The wolf kept its eyes on him and Grian’s heart kept beating faster and faster. He was seconds away from having a full on panic attack. His adrenalin was probably the only thing that kept him standing right now and not cowering in fear.

The wolf slowly crept closer and Grian took a few slow steps backwards, looking around for anything he could use as a weapon, but there was nothing. He grabbed one of the torches standing around, holding it out defensively in front of him. Maybe it would be scared of fire. He kept stepping further and further back, the creature following his every move.

And suddenly his back hit the wall. Panic rose inside of him and he hurriedly looked of to the side for a way to get out. That was when the creature jumped. Grian instinctively held the torch in front of his body. There was a howl of pain and the smell of burning hair in the air. The beast held a claw up to its shoulder and stared at Grian. It looked even more enraged than before

And then it pounced again in wild furry. Grian swung the torch in front of him, but one hit from the giant paw sent it flying.

Grian screamed as searing pain shot through his arm. Blood dripped down to the floor from three long gashes the claws had left on his arm. Tears formed in his eyes. He would die here. Doc wouldn’t make it in time. That monster would kill him.

In his panic Grian darted off to the side, stumbling a little. He needed to get away. He didn’t want to die here. And why wasn’t Ren here to help him out? Why was a monster running around in his basement?

Something heavy hit his back and Grian fell, rolling over the stone and coming to a painful halt on his back. If he survived this his whole body would be littered in bruises and scratches.

He hurried to get up, but the giant paws of the beast were suddenly standing on his shoulders. It was lowering its mouth, sharp teeth ready, mouth wide open. Grian raised his arms to push it away, trying to frantically grab anywhere to get it away. It didn’t work. The wolf growled and suddenly Grian’s arm was in its mouth. It was about to bite down and probably take his whole hand off. Then their eyes locked. Grian could see his face reflected in the red eyes. His terrified face full of tears and for a second the red started to flicker, turning into a soft blue. Blue like the sky. Blue like the eyes of…

“Ren…?”

The beast seemed to hesitate and Grian pulled his hand back to safety, away from the sharp teeth.

“Ren is that you?” He felt the pressure fading a little from his shoulders and dared to hope again. He didn’t understand whatever was happening right now, but somehow in some way Ren had turned into this… this wolf monster. And he was coming to his senses. Maybe he was recognizing Grian.

“It’s alright Ren. Everything is okay. Okay? I’m sorry I came over. Don’t do this”, Grian whispered. His words seemed to have an effect on the creature. He just needed to keep talking. Keep it distracted.

“I… I love you, Ren…” One of the giant paws slid off of Grian’s shoulder and he decided to take the opportunity. He hurriedly rolled to the side and got up. That turned out to be a bad idea. The blue eyes instantly turned red again and the beast was growling in anger. Grian wanted to run, but he soon stumbled and then felt sharp claws piercing right through his shoulders. He fell to the ground again, breathing heavily. It was over. He wouldn’t get away this time. He was hurting everywhere. He could feel the warm breath of the wolf right next to his ear as its mouth moved to his neck.

He prepared for the worst, when he heard a loud splash of water.

“Stay down!” A voice shouted. Something flew right over his head and the creature howled in pain.

Grian turned his head to look back. A trident was embedded right in the wolves upper body, blood staining the fur red. It stumbled back a few steps, its eyes flickering between red and blue. The trident ripped itself out of his body again as if by magic and it fell to the ground. It took a few more shaking breaths, trying to get up again, growling dangerously. Again a trident flew, this time hitting its lower abdomen. It struggled to stay upright and took one more shaking step, before it fell down one final time and stopped moving.

“R-Ren…? REN!”

Grian tried to get up, but a warm hand on his back kept him from moving and he looked at Doc who was kneeling next to him, bloody trident in his mechanical arm.

“It’s okay, Grian…”

“Nothing is okay!” There were tears gathering in Grian’s eyes now. He just felt the tension of this whole ordeal all at once becoming too much. “You killed him! That was Ren and you killed him!”

“I know, but…”

“You knew?!” Grian almost shouted, wincing at the pain it caused in his shoulder. “Why? Doc, if you knew that was Ren, why did you do it?”

“You need to calm down, Grian, man…”, he said calmingly, put down the trident after one last look at the wolf and then carefully turned Grian around to get him into a sitting position. “Look.”

Grian followed his instructions and saw the wolf’s fur moving a little as low breaths were still leaving its mouth. “Is he… Will he...?”

“He will be okay. He is one tough guy in that form. And I know how to aim. I just did enough damage to stop him. He will be fully healed once the full moon is gone, don’t worry. He always transforms back without any injuries. No one is dead. And it looks like he didn’t get to bite you. He didn’t right?”

Grian shook his head and Doc let out a sigh of relief. “Good. He would never forgive himself if he turned you as well.”

“What… turned me into what…? Is he a… Werewolf? But they don’t exist. That is just a fairy tale.”

“Well before they multiplied like crazy, people thought phantoms were just a fairy tale and now they are everywhere…” Doc sighed and looked over to where Ren’s body was still lying. “It should be up to him to explain this to you. I told him so many times that you should know what he was. He was so scared you would leave him and look where that got him. He almost bit you. That fool.”

“He is a fool… But I love him even at his worst… He should know that.” Grian smiled sadly and tried to shrug, but the pain in his shoulder almost had him doubling over. Doc’s hand was the only thing that kept him up.

“Can you stand up? Should I call Xisuma to teleport us to a safer place?”

Grian shook his head. He didn’t want to get Xisuma involved. It was his own fault he was in this situation. “I’ll manage…”

Grian managed to slowly get up with Doc’s hand steadying him. Doc was constantly looking him up and down a worried expression on his face. “You don’t really look to good.”

“’m fine…”, Grian mumbled, swaying a little. His face was as white as a sheet of paper. How much blood had he lost? There weren’t too many wounds on his body, but those cuts seemed to be pretty deep. He took a shaking step towards the exit, but stumbled and hadn’t it been for Doc holding him up, he would have fallen to the ground again.

“Stupid stubborn fools, both of you”, he mumbled, his communicator in hand. Grian could distantly hear the sound of typing and beeping, as if he was under water. He couldn’t think clearly. Everything around him started to sway. And then everything around him disappeared and they suddenly stood in a brightly lit room. He was rushed over to a bed. Xisuma was standing there looking at him worriedly. Oh… So they had transported him to Xisuma’s place.

He wanted to say something, but his vision started to fade and he suddenly felt so tired. He couldn’t keep his eyes open and slowly drifted out of consciousness. Maybe he would wake up and realise all this had been just a nightmare.

In his dreams he was haunted by glowing red eyes. The wolf was always right next to him no matter where he went. He was suddenly back in the cave below Ren’s base, the wolf above him. But this time there was no trident flying through the air. No Doc to rescue him. He felt the sharp teeth bite into his neck and screamed.

He screamed and screamed, hands were on him at once and he heard voices talking to him. Slowly but surely he gained a sense of his surroundings. He was in Xisuma’s bed. There was no wolf. It was bright and the sun was shining through the windows and someone was holding his hand.

A little out of breath he looked at Xisuma who was gently holding his hand, his helmet abandoned in a corner of the room.

“’suma…?”

“Yeah. You alright, Grian? You had a nightmare.”

“So it wasn’t real?”, he asked, still a little dazed, but the pity in Xisuma’s eyes made him realise how stupid that question was. Of course it had been real. Why else would he be in Xisuma’s bed of all places? And he still hurt all over. He looked down at his arm. It was tightly wrapped in a bandage. The white fabric was stained dark red in some places.

And suddenly he realised it was morning and Doc’s words came back to him. “Ren! Where is he? Is he alright? I need to...”, he hurriedly tried to get up, but Xisuma gently pushed him back into the mattress.

“Don’t strain yourself”, he mumbled then turned around and stepped away from the bed. “Ren, get over here. You heard him.”

Grian heard some rustling in the corner of the room and finally he saw Ren slowly stepping up to his bed. Why hadn’t he been next to him this whole time?

“Ren…” Ren looked bad. He wouldn’t raise his head to look at Grian. His eyes were red and puffy and there were still tear tracks on his face. His whole posture just screamed Insecurity. “Ren, babe… Look at me, please.”

Finally Ren raised his head and their eyes met. He could see tears shining in Ren’s eyes. “Grian… I am so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I promise. I just… I can’t control the wolf. I tried to stop it. I really did. I was so scared. I’d understand if you don’t want to be with me any more.”

Grian shock his head and slowly raised his non bandaged arm to rest a hand on Ren’s cheek. “It’s alright. Nothing bad happened. I’m okay. And I still love you.”

Xisuma sighed next to them and put down a few clean bandages onto the bed. “I’ll give you guys a little privacy. Ren, He needs a change of bandages. I trust you to take care of that. Talk it out you two. I’ll be back later.”

Grian noticed that Ren looked a little panicked at Xisuma’s retreating back and he opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something. Maybe he wanted to stop Xisuma. As the door fell closed, Ren even flinched a little, head hanging low again.

“You don’t want to be alone with me?”, Grian asked sadly, noticing all the signs.

Ren looked finally looked back at him, eyes wide with shock, shaking his head. “I thought you wouldn’t want to be. I thought you might get scared after I attacked you.”

Grian huffed in mild annoyance. “If I didn’t want to be alone with you I would have told Xisuma. We have been alone thousand of times, haven’t we.”

“Yeah but I attacked you…”

“Right. You attacked me. Once. When you weren’t even yourself. We have been together almost every night since the last season. Percentage wise I think I have a good chance to be safe alone with you.” Grian slowly got into a sitting position, wincing a little at the pain, but unlike Xisuma, Ren made no move to stop him. He grabbed Ren and pulled him into a hug. It hurt, sure, it hurt like hell. But seeing Ren like that, seeing him blame himself for everything that happened, that hurt even more.

“It’s okay. We are okay. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known I’d be there.” He felt Ren’s hand hesitantly wrapping around him and Grian almost melted into the embrace. “I love you. And I’ll always love you, even if you transform into some monster wolf, I’ll still love you.”

Ren was shaking now and Grian felt something wet on his shoulders. He carefully petted Ren’s back with his unbandaged hand, trying to calm him down. “It’s okay… Everything is fine…”, he continued to whisper words of comfort until he felt Ren calming down. They still stayed there for a while, neither of them ready to let go.

Until Grian moved a little and pain shot through his arm. A pained whine escaped him and Ren let go of him as if he’d burned himself. “I’m sorry. Oh god, Gri, I’m so sorry. Look at me. I’m a mess and you are the one that got hurt. I should be the one to care for you not the other way around.”

“Don’t worry, it’s…”

“No. It’s not okay. Stop saying that. I know you want to reassure me, but I have a right to worry about you. You are hurt.” Ren picked up the clean bandage. “I need to make it up to you, even if you don’t see that. You might be okay, but I… I’m not okay yet.”

Grian didn’t dare to say anything. He wanted to make Ren forget about what happened, but he understood where Ren was coming from. It was probably easier to forgive someone else than to forgive yourself. So he just nodded and held out his wounded arm.

Gently Ren peeled of the bloody bandage. Grian averted his eyes, not ready to see the damage the attack had caused.

“I owe you an explanation, I think”, Ren began and Grian just shrugged. “No, Gri, I really do. I should have told you a long time ago. Doc was always pestering me about it. I guess he was right. If you had known you would have paid more attention to the moon.”

“Tell me then… Whatever you are comfortable with.”

Ren smiled sadly, putting the bloody bandages to the side and taking a washing cloth from the bedside table. He dabbed it gently against the wound. It stung like hell, but Grian tried not to show any discomfort as Ren began explaining.

“I was still young when it happened. It was long before I came to Hermitcraft. I got lost in a forest looking for… I don’t even know what I was looking for any more. It was stupid to go out alone that late. It was a full moon. That huge wolf suddenly appeared in front of me. I tried to run away, but it was just too fast. It bit me. It probably would have killed me. But I was lucky. Someone had noticed my screams and chased the monster off. I thought I was lucky. Until the next full moon came and I transformed. It hurts… It hurts every time. All the bones in your body shifting, your skin stretching out. But the worst thing is not how it feels but the way you lose all control. I was never able to control myself.”

“But you did...”, Grian whispered, thinking back to last night, when his arm had been in the wolf’s mouth, about to be bitten. “Your eyes. They turned blue and you didn’t… you stopped.”

Ren smiled sadly and nodded. “That was the first time I managed to do this. And even though… even when I love you this much I wasn’t able to stay in control. I tried so hard...”

Ren took a shaky breath, quietly put the wash cloth away and started carefully bandaging the arm again. “I’m glad Doc was there. Even if he almost killed me... I once told him if worst comes to worst he has my permission to kill me. I’d rather die then see anything happen to you.”

“Well and I’d rather be bitten than see you die. So I’ll have a talk with Doc about that agreement”, Grian replied with an annoyed huff and while Ren looked like he wanted to argue he held back. He probably knew that Grian wouldn’t change his mind on that matter.

Ren kept bandaging up his arm, then paused and looked straight into Grian’s eyes, gaze full of worry. “Just… Never visit me during the full moon ever again. Promise me that you’ll be careful. If I were to bite you, I’d never forgive myself.”

Grian averted his eyes. Ren wasn’t the only one who felt guilty about this whole ordeal. If he had just paid attention to the moon… If he hadn’t stayed out so late… If he had waited patiently for an answer instead of just barging in… If he had…

“Grian. Stop it.”

“’m not doing anything…”, Grian mumbled quietly, turning his eyes back to Ren.

“You are blaming yourself, when I am the only one to blame. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Well… If I’m not allowed to blame myself, then neither are you!”

Ren shook his head, about to answer again, but Grian wouldn’t let him. “No. You listen to me, Mr. Ren. You had no control. You told me enough times that you can’t see me during a full moon. So what? Yeah, you maybe should have told me you are a werewolf after two years of dating, but whatever.” Grian looked back to Ren again, nothing but love in his eyes. “It will take me a while to get over this, sure. I will feel bad about it and so will you, but we can pull through it. Don’t you ever doubt that.”

Ren lowered his eyes and finished bandaging Grian’s arm. But for the first time since Grian had woken up there was a small smile on his lips. And Grian knew at that moment that they would be alright.

[headlesssamurai]

Your thoughts on the new Star Wars?

[Disclaimer: The following is sarcasm targeted at social trends and contrarians the world-over. If it offends you, buck it up and have a fucking sense of humor.]

A Completely Serious Breakdown OfStar Wars: The Last Jedi

by Anita Sarkeesian & Rachel Maddow

To begin, let’s just say the best format in which to write anything on the internets is by breaking it down into a comprehensive list for no goddamn reason, other than maybe the idea that lots of people like to read lists or something because it feels a lot less like reading, and lots of people dislike reading. Right? Right.Thus, the following is a list of reasons why Star Wars: The Last Jedi is an atrocity bordering on Nagasaki levels of horror.WARNING: The following will contain spoilers and angsty disappointment.

1. Not enough transgender charactersThis one is clearly a no-brainer. Every respectable sell-out of a Hollywood screenwriter ought to know by now that their movie should contain at least one transgender, one gender-fluid, one gender neutral, and one tri-sexual character, if not more. And this is especially true in bombastic, overblown blockbusters. It disgusts me to see them disregard such a large percentage of their viewership. I know they tried to placate us with the pink-haired drag queen admiral who takes command after Leia is incapacitated, and the Asian kid who is running around with Finn the entire movie, but these characters seemed more like afterthoughts than anything else. To see them be so cavalier and conservative with their dramatis personae is just shameless.

2. It supports animal murderRight off the bat, we’re treated to a horrific scene in which Luke Skywalker, previously a shining beautiful example of a peaceful pacifist Zen master, is shown violently murdering an innocent fish with a barbed spear, then casually carrying the poor slaughtered animal back to his hut like a caveman. If that’s not enough, we later see Chewbacca, previously the most non-violent and docile character in the entire franchise, roasting a poor decapitated penguin on a spit over an open fire like some uncivilized neanderthal. Did he skin the creature while it was still alive? Perhaps we’ll never know, but it was clearly murdered with an intent to eat, and the Wookie carelessly roasts the creature’s remains in full view of its mournful cousins who must be wondering which of them will be next for bloody execution. This blatant disregard for the lives of the magical, peaceful animals of nature is truly horrifying. I can’t imagine how the filmmakers could be this vulgar. For achieving such advanced levels of technology, the people of this galaxy sure behave like feral savages.

3. Not enough wacky comedyI know there was a scene in which a confused elderly woman plays the general of an army, a riff on Karate Kid, an awkward reference to deep throating, a robot doing its best Solid Snake impression, a little kid getting mercilessly whipped by a character from a Pixar movie, Yoda acting like a weirdo again, furry anime creatures making cute noises, a guy getting unexpectedly electrocuted, enough bad dialogue to fill a Star Destroyer’s cargo hold, a fucking prank phone call scene in a Star Wars movie, and Benicio Del Toro’s face; but still. This movie could’ve used more comedy. This is made by Disney, after all, the same studio who gave us Guardians of the Fallacy, I mean every gag in that movie is just such a fucking knee-slapper, you know? Goddamn.

4. Too much explicit sexualityI was very glad to see that in Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens Disney decided to completely sever all of the vulgar and explicit sexuality depicted in every previous Star Wars film, particularly making certain this new portrayal of the galaxy was as sterile and sexless as a Dominican cloister. However, they’ve decided to flush that newfound dignity down the fucking toilet with this film. You all know what I’m talking about. There is a single scene in this movie where one character kisses another character on the lips. I know it’s just a little peck, but that’s just too much. This movie is vulgar, kids should not see it. Don’t even get me started on Kylo Ren’s sexy shirtlessness, Snoke’s pervy sex offender vibes, and all of Rey’s wet t-shirt scenes.

5. Not enough Han SoloHan Solo isn’t in this movie. ‘Nuff said.

6. Female heroine needs a manRemember Rey? That amazing, strong feminist icon from Episode VII who could do anything, fix a ship, fly a ship, shoot a gun, wield a laser sword, speak any language, and conquer anyone who stood in her path? Yeah, that girl decided to take a nap in this movie. You guessed it, she’s all fire and energy, yet the moment she sees Kylo Ren’s sweaty shirtless abs this new Rey can’t resist and falls head-over-heels for a guy who tried to slice her in half the first time they met. I mean, nothing comes of it, thank god! But seriously Disney? This is just lazy writing, and feminists everywhere should boycott this movie and fire-bomb any theater still showing it, along with all the homes of those who buy tickets to support it.

7. Too much talkingAgain, this movie was made by Disney, right? So why the hell is all the talking filled with so much boring character-driven dialogue, and not a goofy joke or lyrics in a sing-a-long? I cannot imagine how they expected to tap their drooling Marvel MCU fanbase with this many narrative-relevant scenes of people talking which don’t include funny gags or nerdy references from a Tony Stark-esque character. What a disappointment.

8. Not enough racial diversityI know there’s a Spanish-Puerto Rican man, a black man, a Guatemalan man, two Vietnamese women, a few white people, another black guy, a Wookie, the previously mentioned drag queen, a Mon Calamari, some other aliens visible when they go to Monte Carlo, and whatever alien that one dude was; but still. That’s only representing a few out of, like, hundreds of thousands of other ethnic groups all over the planet, not to mention the millions if not billions of alien species throughout the galaxy whose children have no characters to look up to in this movie. The distinct lack of Jews was most jarring for me, and I wouldn’t hazard to call this film anti-Semitic exactly, but it does make you pause for contemplation.

9. Glorification of violenceDo I really need to say this out loud? Holy shit. There is so much violence in this movie it makes me nauseous. People blowing people up, decapitation and dismemberment, savagely beating each other to death with clubs, animals being whipped, children being whipped (even if it’s funny, it’s still violent), casino patrons being violently trampled to death by stampeding anime creatures, bodies being engulfed by fiery explosions, explosions engulfing explosions, and at least two cases of fanatically intentional suicide which result in the violent death of hundreds if not thousands of others. All told, it’s one of the most violent movies released this year, with a body count that likely surpasses Man of Steel and the first Avengers film combined. How can audiences be this bloodthirsty? It’s just, I don’t know, sickening. You fandom kids should renounce yourselves and practice self-flagellation, as far as I’m concerned.

10. It supports child slave soldiersIn the very first scene, the character Poe Dameron supports a group of Resistance bombers who are trying to destroy a First Order dreadnought. We see the flight leader protecting the bombers is a young girl who couldn’t be older than twelve piloting an A-wing fighter and mercilessly blasting TIE fighters out of the sky. Forgetting the fact that war is already traumatic for fully grown adults, how is the Resistance okay with putting a child in harm’s way like that? I’m astounded. This is so controversial, I can’t believe it isn’t being hotly debated by mouthbreathers all over the internets.

11. Not enough lightsabersLikely the film’s biggest transgression of all. It’s a well-known fact that the mindless drooling fans who attend the cult gatherings known as Star Wars Celebrations and sew their own costumes to wear to premieres (only to turn around and hatefully review the film later on YouTube) only really want to see one thing: lots and lots of lightsaber battles. That’s the only thing Star Wars has going for it these days, after all. And this time nobody bangs a lightsaber against another lightsaber even once. Not once in the entire movie! Jesus, Joseph, and doggy-style Mary! What pointless drivel. I’m considering petitioning the studio for a bid to get my money back after seeing this farce. Don’t they know anything about what makes Star Wars great?

Parthian shotsDespite all of these many, many flaws, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi is not entirely without merit. There are some cool CGI effects in almost every scene, for one thing. Throughout the film we also learn some very valuable life lessons, such as:- Anime creatures have invulnerable faces that can smash through anything without the slightest injury.- Shields work best when gunfire is coming from very far away.- Any man in a position of power is either irredeemably evil or an impulsive and weak-willed incompetent fool.- All roads lead to failure.- The best way to be good at something is by sucking at it.- It’s okay for bystanders to be violently trampled to death so long as they’re rich.- All law enforcement officers are evil corrupt bastards.- Freeing captive animals is more important than freeing the slave children who tend to them.- And the only way to win a war is through the magical power of love, even if the enemy is in the process of blowing up your friends while you’re deliriously saying so.

   Huzzah.

       侍   headless

[houseofvans]

ART SCHOOL | Sheryo & The Yok 

Talented and world-traveling artist duo, Sheryo & The Yok are known for their massive murals and installations all over the world, inspired by their travels, cartoons, and psychedelic imaginations. Their passion for painting large scale murals and their vision for creating immersive art installations make them both inspirational and mind blowing to fans and artists alike. We’re excited to interview these spray painting nomads and talk about their travels, their art processes, and their upcoming projects which include “a crocodile temple in Singapore” and “a bat house/shack under a bridge in Berlin.”

Photographs courtesy of the artist | Top photograph by Rainer Christian Kurzeder

introduce yourself  Yok:  Im from Perth, Western Australia, One of the most isolated cities, surrounded by desert and ocean. Currently I'm  based in Brooklyn and some times Indonesia and sometimes Thailand and sometimes Australia. We are trying to buy some jungle/beach land in seasia and make a weird sculpture park of sorts. Sheryo: I'm from Singapore, I share a work/live space with Yok in Brooklyn, New York and sometimes hang out in different parts of SEAsia living the island life drawing painting sippin on coconuts amongst palm trees watching the surf.

How did you both get into art, and at what point did you start collaborating?  Yok: I got into drawing from watching cartoons, reading mad magazine and copying skate logos, Jim Phillips, Pushead, Marc McKee's, Guy Mariano  Accidental Gun Death graphic had a huge impact on me.  As did early Blind decks, alien workshop, Girl art dump. The Gonz! Sheryo: I've always Been drawing but it wasn't until I moved to Cambodia that I really thought about pursuing art full time. I met yok and we painted our first wall together almost straight away and shared similar influences. I got into drawing from watching a ton of cartoons all day everyday. Growing up i was into Reg Mombassa, Ren and Stimpy, Garfield. I still love watching cartoons now.

What are your individual art processes like? How have your processes evolved or changed?  Draw every day. Our process evolves constantly when we are on the road depending on what materials we can get our hands on, which is also why we tend to keep our color palette to red white black and gold.  You can generally always find a black white and red in a dirty hardware store in a remote part of Vietnam.We also try to draw everyday wherever we are. We try to keep a sort of visual diary of whats going on.

What are some handy materials you always take along with you? India ink, some brushes, black pens, adapter spray caps, portable speaker, a few words of the local launguage. This works wonders for getting walls or getting out of trouble.

What’s your approach to murals and larger works? What was the last one you finished up? The last wall we painted was a rooftop on brooklyn, we've been painting a lot more spontaneously  with friends. The weather's finally warmed up in brooklyn so Night rides, weekend sprays and beers on the roof is the way to go. We've been building installations lately based on all the shacks we've seen on our travels in se Asia. Recently we built  a Ping Pong Auto Shack in Detroit with 1x Run, a big furry psychedelic gargoyle head in Germany and also a Lion house in Singapore for Singapore art week.

What’s been your favorite installation or sculpture that you’ve created? We love the "Ping Pong Auto Shack" and the "gargoyle head" the best. The ping Pong Auto Shack was a fun one it was a Detroit inspired car garage meets Indonesian warung/shack, with a huge tigers head that you can walk trough.. We turned the inside into a tattoo shop with neon devils and sexy ladies, we lined the walls with flash sheets and Sheryo made a bunch of tattoo's, good times!  IF you didn't want a tattoo we served jungle juice rum drinks out of the bar that we made at the tail end of the Tiger.

In the past, you’ve collaborated with Vans!  What’s your ultimate dream collaboration project? We want to build a skateable sculpture/installation badly, as well as a greenhouse filled with plants and our wooden sculptures. Imagine a snake run but it's a wild triple headed cobra. Excellent.

You really have traveled so much and around the world.  What has that experience been like and where are you headed to next?   Last year was great! We got to see and experience alot of  hard to get to, small towns in Vietnam, Cambodia, and Indonesia.  Next is Shanghai, Colorado,Florida then Perth.

Where has been your favorite place that you’ve visited?  What was the coolest thing you’ve seen in your travels? One of the recent favorites was a trip to Ethiopia to teach art at a school for impoverished kids, we painted the outside of the classroom and hung out it was great. We were also invited to paint Ethiopia's first skatepark, The kids had only had the park a few weeks, and for some only been riding a skateboard for the same amount of time and they were shredding it.

Much like how Vans aren’t just one thing, what other things are you guys into or do, when you’re not making art? Yok's a surfdog. Shezzy's a lay-in-the-beanbag-sipping-pinacoladas-and-coconuts-at-the-beach-all-day-nerd.

Who are some of your favorite artists, past and contemporary? woah too many to list! i have new ones everyday. I really love to see the grafitti in the cities towns and villages on the road, in places in Asia where they are not really exposed to that kind of thing, so the results are usually fresh.

Favorite Vans? Old skools!!!!!

What personally do you guys look for in or like in art? What’s your taste like?  Wavyness, good line work, original idea's and subject matter.

What do you think you’d be doing if you weren’t an artist? SHeryo:I'd probably be selling coconuts with secret shots of rum in a shack I built by the beach. Ill catch some fish and grill them for dinner and share it with my friends. I'll have a sick collection of machetes with super cool painted handles.  Yok: I would be there also on the hammock eating that grilled fish. Sheryo: maybe i will feed u that grilled feed with my hands.

What has been your favorite thing so far this year? What do you have coming up for the rest of 2017? We are building a crocodile temple in Singapore next and a bat house/shack under a bridge in Berlin . I'm really looking forward to the 2 projects and hope to make them as rad as possible.

Whose someone you’d like to see on our Art School Q&A next? Mark Mulroney, Ryan Travis Christian, The Gonz!Palladingdong, Benjamin Rawson, Clay Hickson!

Follow Sheryo & The Yok Instagram: @_sheryo Website: www.yokandsheryo.com  Facebook: @Sheryo