#i mean if you are you're blocked now so get dunked on but you should know that wasn't cool

[the-possum-writes]

Hey hun! I fricken love Adventure and its so hard to find fics of it but your blog is great! Could you do a Finn x reader where its just our boy being super affectionate and playful he chases the reader and then tickles them, gives lots of smooches and just lots of fluff? Thanks!

Call me sunshine

❥Character: Finn Mertens

❥Tags: Fluff, SFW, playful banter, Gn!reader

❥Synopsis:

After spending weeks digging through underground tunnels, both you and Finn coincidentally resurface near a flower hill.

❥Taglist: @watchingfromthefloorboards

With only dirt and rocks in the way, you and your buddy had to spend several hours using pickaxes and shovels to break through the obstruction. Eventually, the soil began to soften, making the task simpler for you both.

"How much longer till we leave this place? It feels like we've been digging nonstop for days."

The map crinkles beneath your calloused hands, which are covered in fabric bandages, clearing the dust so you can see your math equations in the corner. "It should be a few feet away; once the ground turns to sand, we're good."

"Do you mean this?"Finn switched to a shovel to remove the few rocks that were intertwined with streams of gray sand and seashells. The dust filling the cave became so overwhelming that you raised the bandana on your neck to your lower jaw, stuffing the map in your pocket in order to help Finn before he gets buried alive. Once the sand broke away into a hole on the cieling the two of you are showered in natural sunlight that burns your pupils like lemon juice on an open wound.

Finn burst into a cheery laugh. "I never knew I'd be so happy to get blinded by the sun." he rubs his eyes a few times before getting used to the exterior, stretching and arm out to help you climb out of the hole.

"I'm not in a rush to go blind but I'm glad we got out of those caves, it was starting to feel claustrophobic." you tug the cloth from your face, feeling like its suffocating you now that it isn't necessary. While you drop down on the sand dunes soaking up in the sun, Finn started jogging downhill to probably stretch his legs or something. After spending weeks underground you regret taking the sun for granted, relishing the warmth it lays over your dirt ridden skin, listening closely to the seagulls and the nearby shore like a natural lullaby. You could've easily taken a nap right there if it wasn't for a shadow blocking the light from your face, opening your eyes to a drenched young man in front of you.

In the few minutes you laid down Finn had already ditched his clothes and his caving gear and ran off to dip in the oceanside without you.

"What's up with you?" Finn asked, with his hands on his waist eyeing you like an oddity that washed ashore.

You scrunched up your nose when a few droplets landed on your heated skin.  "Me? What's up with you?" you retort.

He squeezes the water out of his wild medium length hair. "I needed a dip after getting all dusty in there, you should try it!"

You scrunch your nose a second time and casually rest your arms behind your head. "Thanks but no thanks, I'll take a hot shower when I get home."

Finn laughs, pinching his nose. "You're gross, why wait for a shower when you got a giant bath out here." he waves a hand where the ocean is.

"No way, fish pee in there." you say jokingly while sticking your tongue out.

"So what? I pee in the shower too." Finn responds almost immediately, with you taunting him with gaging noises.

"That's even worse!"

"Come'on, if I can't take you willing then I'll have to dunk you in myself!" Having enough of your tomfoolery, Finn playfully tries to grab hold of you.

"Heck nah! Get away from me ya seadog!" you immediately scramble to your feet and take off running with Finn chasing right behind your tail like a starving animal. The sand kicks up with every step you take, slows you down a bit as you run uphill, but the scenery changes the farther you run, with patches of grass becoming more common and colorful. Eventually you reach the top of the sand dune with a heaving chest, seemingly forgetting why you were in a hurry when your eyesight was blessed with grassy meadows and soft flowers swaying peacefully in the breeze, after growing used to dark browns and grays caverns its easy to be captured by such an cheery display.

"Gotcha!" Finn catches up to you by wrapping his arms around your midsection and promptly sent you down the grassy hill with him. There's leafs and petals flying everywhere as your vision blurs like a carousel with the ground replacing where the ground should be over and over again, the only thing keeping your limbs together is Finn holding you tight, eventually landing at the bottom of the hill with an "Oomph!" as flowers crumble under the two of you. "Bleh!" you spit out the petals that got into your mouth. All the while Finn is contently laughing to himself even though he's trapped under you, it's tempting to spew some colorful words at him but you're unable to stay mad at him because his laugh is that contagious.

"...I guess I could use that ocean bath now." you admit in defeat.

Finn out stretches his arms to you embrace you in a smooch, you pull back slowly to repeat the kiss but it got interrupted by the flower petal that got in your mouth, causing Finn to blow a raspberry. "Bleh." he pouts and this time you're the one laughing.

[bodycountgame]

Hi, Nell! I'm unsure your current pov re: advice columns, but I figured I could give it a shot and ask you for an unbiased opinion. If I ever make you uncomfortable, I'm so sorry!!!

Okay, here's my dilemma: I've had this major crush on this guy between ages 11-18, which is my literal entire adolescence (I'm 25 now). It was so intense, I literally made it my mission to let everyone know, thinking in some roundabout way the butterfly effect would result in him proposing to me during our high school graduation (it didn't happen). So, fast forward to two days ago, I download Tinder for the first time because FOMO and a good laugh, but I live in a relatively small town, so I figured I might get traumatized seeing someone I grew up asking to fuck (YUCK). So, you can imagine I nearly shitted myself when I'm on the chopping block swiping left like I'm getting paid for it and see my old crush's older fucking brother - and I only recognized this guy because he had his profile as a group pic with my crush in it. So, I'm gagging, pissing, howling because it was an absolute blast to the past since I totally remember his brother being, like, THE guy on campus and all of my friends gushed over him, but I was too gaga for my crush to really see any appeal (and I still don't now tbh he's just not my type). My question is: I think it's a major win, and a petty part of me wants to match to slam dunk that trauma on my crush, because, honestly, he was an absolute ass to me. Of course, it's not great ethics because I'm basically using his older brother, who probably didn't even know I existed before Tinder. My sister, who's a textbook Gemini, thinks I should, and while Gemini isn't my sun, I have four houses in it, so I'm on her wavelength. My mom thinks it's too coincidental, and thinks it's a trap??? My friend thought it was a hoot, and it really should be just that. I just can't shake this feeling of wanting to match (yes I paid for Gold ugh), so what should I do? Match or not? I think it's straight up incest, but it's been a constant war these past two days. Like, imagine the chances out of all the people that live in my town it just HAD to be this guy! So, is this a sign from the universe or a test? Idk!

okay i am not gonna make a habit of answering these but i feel like i have a social responsibility in this case

anon, please hear me on every level: no

it feels v bold to even assume that this guy will match you back (edit: oh okay i reread and assume gold means you can see he matched you?) or that your crush would even care? this is written like you're the main character in these peoples lives and it seems like you're setting yourself up for a big disappointment when you discover that you aren't.

also, don't deliberately use people! don't set out to play with the feelings of others! its a v bad look

i strongly recommend you take a deep breath, pretend you didn't see this guy on tinder and try to genuinely move on with your life

[bradenthompson]

Shut Up, Spit Boy

"Apologies for making y'all do this again, but--and I'm sure Collie told you the same thing I'mma tell you now--remember: talking about it makes the pain go away. Right? Can we do another quick Pain Check on all y'all? Starting at the front, going back? You. Lewis? Lewis. One to ten, where you ranking your pain this week?"

"Six."

"Six, okay, so... clipboard's saying we improved, from last week. When Collie asked you the same question, you said eight. We're feeling better? Cool! Alright, and... Marianne?"

"Uh... maybe a seven?"

"Alright, maybe--"

"No! Six and a half."

"Algorithm doesn't take kindly to decimals, so let's just round down to six. Six sound good? Cool. Tony?"

"Four."

"Christopher?"

"It's Topher, actually. Five. Let's go five."

"We're going five. Emily?"

"Nine."

"Steady with the nine, I see, alright. And remember, you can define pain however you want. Whatever definition feels right. Emotional pain, mental pain--your pills from last week should've dealt with the physical pain but if not go talk to Dr. Paq outside. Please.

"Di... Diego, here you are. Pain?"

"Ten."

Diego picked ten because he was curious. Maximum pain, two weeks in a row. Maybe they'd move him to a different class. A morning class, ideally. It's week two of HRP reorientation, week three of being here, and he's still nursing some titanic jet lag. Coffee hasn't helped and that's really saying something, because it's about twenty times stronger than it used to be. Even the Not-Fee kiosk in the shopping block, a walk-up café proudly selling coffee-flavored milk, is tough enough to give a Cuban pause. And Diego can say that.

Before getting here, he had dunked his fourth Not-Fee of the day in the trash burner outside. Sign says not to dispose plastics but nobody saw. And sure, the fan outside is an intake and the classroom is starting to smell awful chemical-like, but they can't trace that to him. Surely. Those Not-Fees aren't cheap but Diego hasn't the experience to know how far he should be stretching these monthly stimuli. Sure feels like a decent chunk of change. Fourteen hundred dollars? Whew. Righteous bucks. He wasn't making that kind of money--

"Earth to Diego," the substitute instructor snaps. "Still feeling dilated?"

"I don't know what that means."

"How about jet lag?"

"Ohh, yeah, yeah."

"It passes," the sub assures him, "and I'm sure your friends here are just as turned around. Would it make you feel better if you knew why?"

Diego burps. Tastes like milk. "Shoot."

"Prevailing theory is air tolerance. Y'all were living in a rice cooker. Even you, Marianne. Now, our air is of an exponentially higher purity. Higher than oxygen can balance naturally. Y'all's brains have never drank something this clear. It's good for you! But the lack of those comfortable pollutants will take some getting used to; raise your hand if you've been getting headaches."

Every hand goes up.

"Ah. Thought to. Dr. Paq will have another pill for you. I'll have him slip it in y'all's takeaway bags. Okay... who did we leave off on? Diego? No, you're the ten. So then it's Thomas..."

Diego stops listening to the answers. He doesn't think anyone else said ten, though. So either they're liars or aren't trying to stress test the system. One guy rated his pain at a zero. If the goal is getting out of these classes, maybe Diego should've tried that.

"... Other things the body experiences, following the big wakey-wakey," the sub transitions. "Headaches. Diego's jet lag. What else, what else? How's everyone been feeling?"

There's a hesitation, but Thomas, sitting to Diego's right, raises a hand. "My leg's been falling asleep like four times a day."

"Vascular hiccups, yeah, that happens. Your bodies have just gone through a factory reset of sorts. Or maybe something closer to the 'system updates' y'all's smartphones would sometimes do. If I have the terminology right. Your brain is trying out all your motor functions. Making sure everything still works. Now this is one of the more embarrassing ones, I know... involuntary erections, anyone?"

That had, in fact, happened to Diego a few times. Not that he'd say so here.

"Some multilinguists find themselves locked to one language. Real pain if it's not their first. Anyone here got a second language kicking around in their head? Y'know, most people these days don't bother. Schools stopped offering language programs around the time translation buds climbed to version 2.0, 3.0--"

"I speak French!" Emily says, raising her hand and not waiting to be called on.

"Emily speaks French!" The sub repeats, delighted. "That's a skill, now, y'know. Back in... oops!" He braces his desk and waggles a finger. "Almost slipped up, there. We gotta be super careful what y'all learn and what order y'all learn it in. Buddy of mine? Couple of months ago? Told a orientee from Vietnam what had been going on in his country during his Interim. Full-blown panic attack, right in his seat. Nasty stuff, huh?"

Beat.

"Like a coma patient," Thomas suggests, slouched in his seat.

"... Like a coma patient! Y'know, the backbone of HRP rehabilitation is based on coma studies. Talk about an eradicated... anyone here been in a coma? For real?"

No hands. Nobody's been in a coma.

"Well! What we do nowadays is more or less what we did with y'all. If odds are slim the patient won't wake up in forty-eight, seventy-two hours, the doctors will just end the life and reset the ticker. Good as new!"

"...Moving along," the sub moves along. "Y'all are here to talk about your feelings. Ultimately. A little twee, I know, but we have the psych results. Doctors need to know how y'all are taking this in, so they know how to most comfortably transition you back into society. Make sense? We're really just here to talk. You'll notice the only homework is making note of these things--"

Surprising himself, Diego raises a hand.

"Diego! Yes. What's up, man?" The sub folds his legs and rests his clipboard on his awkwardly sticking knee. He licks his lips? Okay.

Diego says, "doctors told me not to tell people where my sample came from."

The sub chews on this for just a second. "Your doctor may have been giving that as social advice, not... sociologically--look, Diego, I think he was just looking out for you."

"Looking out for me how?"

"DNA constructs are sourced from a lot of places. They have to. Any sample is ample. That's the phrase, internally. That said, I know there's some... trace bullying, over where some people come from."

"Where you from?" Thomas says so faintly Diego thinks he's trying to whisper.

"Hm?"

"How bad is it?"

"I didn't think it was bad; doctor just told--"

Thomas make himself laugh before it's said: "Are you a semen sample?"

Diego hesitates. "... Everybody's a semen sample, dipshit."

"Okay, okay, let's take it down," the sub insists, wafting his clipboard at the negative energy. "Everyone like you comes from something. It really just depends on what's available. The majority are blood; really I think it's quite special to come from anything else."

"What's the second one?" Thomas asks. Trying to gauge whether he's one to talk, Diego thinks.

"Second is bone marrow, followed closely by teeth. Fourth and fifth are hair and skin cells respectively. I forget what's after that but blood is numero uno. Do we wanna talk about our DNA source? I say we--I have none but my parents. Lewis?"

"Doctor says it was blood."

"Common one, blood, like I said, and Maria--"

"Also blood."

"Also blood!" Chris, did your--"

"Topher. Also blood."

"How about raise your hand if you weren't blood."

Just Diego and Thomas, it seems. The LED lights in the ceiling don't have that same maddening buzz as fluorescents, but they may as well. He hates being looked at, Diego. Always did, as it pertains to classrooms--an environment he thought he was good and done with the moment he walked the high school podium. Adult bodies aren't built for these desks with the little tables coming off the side. He tries leaning back further and the weird rubber-plastic seat bends against his weight.

"Are either of you comfortable with saying what it was?" The sub asks.

"Well, my family's got a tomb," Thomas says. "So I guess they got me and--"

A tomb? Diego stops listening immediately so he can laugh in his head. Didn't realize he was sitting next to Khnum Khufu II. Who the fuck's got tombs? Is a family tomb the budget model, or should Diego take this to mean Thomas is even further up his own ass than he thought? Oh, those resurrection scientists had their pick of DNA samples, in his case.

"Interesting story," the sub claps his hands. "I'm sure where they got you wasn't that bad, Diego."

He swallows. "Spit."

"... Saliva!" Unclear if the sub's enthusiasm is that same plastic nicety he's been working all night or genuine interest. "That's a rare one, dude. Saliva's one of the first things a body loses. Buddy of mine says his brother..."

But Diego can't listen to this little apropos with Thomas leaning over and snickering "Bro came from spit."

So it's true. He will get bullied.

The story he told the group last week, when for some reason how did you die was the first order of business, should've made his spit origin logical. Why would anything but spit be left? He was mangled. Any blood they could've taken was running down Interstate 5 long before a paramedic could slide through with a Q-tip. How they saved his spit, well, he has a theory.

"... But enough about me, huh?" The sub is still saying. "I'm gonna ask you an easy question, and maybe after that we'll be ready for one of these harder ones. Everyone ready? Okay. Who was President of the United States when you first entered your Interim?"

Awful cagey about the dying thing, Diego thinks. The moment they died to now is a stretch of time everyone's been calling their "Interim." And while Diego recognizes that word from UFC fights, he doesn't have a definition handy. Now that he thinks about it, he hasn't heard anyone but his classmates even approach saying "death" or "died." A naughty word? Does he dare raise his hand and ask?

Thinking all this, Diego misses the president Lewis names. Hope they aren't quizzed on each other.

Quite proudly, on her turn Marianne answers "John F. Kennedy."

JFK? What, was she in the other seat? Diego certainly thinks this but thinks better of saying it. Out loud, at least. He must have said it under his breath since Thomas breathes out a snicker.

"Obama," he hears Christopher answer, but the sub's comment on this is interrupted by Diego raising his hand.

"Uh, yes? Diego?"

Shit. He forgets what he was about to ask. Something about... dying? He still can't remember what that question was, but his brain substitutes a thought he had yesterday.

"Sorry, just--just had a thought. Maybe you know. So... y'know, when you hear about serial killers and like shooters or whatever, when they go to prison the judge gives them five life sentences, nine life sentences. Now do those guys actually--"

"Actually have to serve five life sentences?" The sub finishes. "Technically true, but it's a little complicated. As I understand it works, a 'life sentence' has been capped at thirty years. In y'all's first time I believe it was somewhere close. So three life sentences? Ninety years."

"So like," Thomas rebounds, "you can't just go and kill yourself three times? Do they stop reviving you?"

"Actually, the state has an obligation to resurrect all citizens in custody. Can't skate the rules."

Resurrect. Always that word, too. All the way down to the name: Human Resurrection Project. He's also been saying revive, and he's always corrected.

Oh, right, that's what he was gonna ask.

"Why do you keep saying Interim?" Diego blurts.

The sub looks up from Emily. "Sorry?"

"Just, sorry, it's... we died, right?"

This sub is choosing his words carefully. "Your lives did end for an extended period," he obfuscates. "Our term for the point in time this happened to your first resurrection is what's called your Interim."

"I get that part, I was just like... curious--does anybody die?"

"None of you are jonesing to go back, yeah?"

No one raises their hand, but no one's consciously keeping it down, either.

"Might be too daredevil of me to tell y'all this now, because I don't think you should be running off to... here's the hard facts: yes, you can opt out of immediate resurrection. Plenty of people do! Or they have conditions where they would be resurrected."

Now it's Topher asking, "what do they mean by immediate resurrection?"

"Everybody's DNA sample is still kept in archive," the sub just comes out with, "regardless of their willingness to expire and stay expired."

That's the other word. Expire.

"If you'll allow me to argue in a direction you may not be hot towards," the sub says, "I think y'all have taken your first steps into a life truly worth living. Here's that hard question: raise a hand if, when you're life ended... there was ever a moment you were ready."

Maybe four out of nine hands go up. Diego's stays down.

"Collie's notes here say Lewis, Marianne, and Tony were natural causes. Christopher, Emily... Roger and Mark in the back, you were illnesses. Were, to make myself clear. Strong as an ox now, huh? Okay! So it's Thomas and Diego over there: accident. Both of you had your hands down?"

This is true.

"Cool! Or not cool? It's the past. They say y'all's cases have the hardest times adjusting to The Now. Logically we'd assume it's the ones who accepted their expiration, only to have that acceptance nullified by resurrection, that have the most difficulty... moving on, to use that old phrase. But the data favors the case of you two. Did it feel like a dream?"

Neither of the boys vocalize this, but it did feel like a dream. Nodding off on the surgery table.

"You went to sleep. Woke up. Centuries had passed. Quite the culture shock. Question for the accepters in here: did you think you were in heaven?"

Only Marianne did, it seems.

"What y'all have in common was the now outdated idea that, in the moment you expired, all this was over. What I want you to think about now, in these next few weeks, is your purpose. We can understand why the slow march towards oblivion once defined y'all's motivations--or lack thereof--in the same way we can understand why older people thought illness was divine punishment. But you're sticking around. As long as you want. What's your calling? You have nothing but time, and that is the blessing of science."

Roger asks if his parents are, or were, gonna be resurrected. The sub says it depends on available samples. But he should submit a query to the HRP archives department. Open twenty-four hours. Like everything.

Frosty was there to give Diego a ride back, like she only half-promised to. Depended on when her own re-orientation got out. It didn't take long to spy her rental car in the white LED parking lot, no. What took long was exchanging contacts with Thomas. QR codes were a lot faster, Diego thinks. Now you take a picture of someone's face which is cross-referenced with the citizen databanks. From there he had Thomas' phone number, which looked wrong until Diego remembered those are seventeen digits now.

Oh, awesome, Diego thinks, walking to Frosty's car and waving which she doesn't look up to see. Frosty managed to buy one of those FFreshh bars. He was over the moon when he saw disposable vapes had made their way to vending machines. Buying one was too cumbersome, however, and he was slightly embarrassed to have a small line form behind him while he was just trying to start buying one. Something about flavor profile matching and paying through a retina scan. Too much. If he sees one on the way back to the blocks maybe he'll ask Frosty to stop the car.

"What flavor did it give you?" he asks instead of saying hi.

Frosty rolls it in her hand like a coin. Flat enough for it. "Strawberry Daiquiri."

"Bum a smoke?"

"Oh, I dunno, buddy. Who knows what happens if you taste outside of your flavor profile."

They laugh. Diego is so happy she laughs, still.

Holy shit it does taste like a Daquiri. Eerily so. On some Wonka shit. Even has that throat burn under the menthol chill. But holy fuck he wants to cough. Working on several-hundred years without nicotine. Jumping into the deep end of this era's definition of tolerance just hurts. He swallows the pain. Bitch move, coughing around girls.

"They laughed about you in my class," Frosty admits. "Speaking of."

Diego says "Laughed at what?" and passes off his much needed cough like he's got allergies or something.

"Okay, so somebody asked about their parents--"

"Yeah, yeah, if they're gonna... same thing with mine. Sorry. Cut you off."

She snaps the vape back. "I said they were able to save my boyfriend."

"What's the funny part."

"How they did it. You know."

He does know. That theory of his. He was dead instantly. Frosty hung on for another hour or so before the fates took her away--of course before whatever the fuck the fates are doing now. Sad thing is she couldn't be identified by face. The pathologists had to cross reference her teeth with dental records. Good news is they got a match. Weird news is some of the saliva they collected for that careful DNA double-check wasn't hers.

Diego. Here but for the grace of Frosty's mouth.

"Should I thank you?" he wonders out loud.

"You did. Last Sunday."

Oh, yeah. Alcohol's stronger now.

"They said I'd get bullied," Diego says. "New guy. I had a sub this week."

Frosty doesn't keep that thread going. "I dunno if they got my parents," she breathes. "Do you know?"

"About mine? No, no. Doctors said they brought my cousin back like three months ago but I haven't seen him."

"I asked," Frosty says, taking another hit, "about my family," a half-octave down, "but they said I'm the first one."

"I heard getting people who were cremated is the hardest. So that rules out most of mine."

They lean against the car in no hurry back. What's there to be afraid of, in this genre of empty parking lot? Murder? Pssh. Thanks for the nap, maniac.

"Same," Frosty says. "Easy ones first. Guess it makes sense."

"Help me find the irony in this," Frosty breaks the silence. "We die, and... but we're the ones who... Y'know."

"Yeah, yeah," Diego says even though he doesn't. "What are your plans after they let us stop doing these?"

"I dunno, what are yours?"

"My only plan between these is taking walks and drinking those Not-Fees. Have you had one?"

"I can't enjoy walks. Too many ads." She points out to the horizon, to an orange glow on the hills like a TV in a dark room. "I'm sorry, you said Not-Fee?"

"It's like this milk thing. You'd like it."

"Ugh," she belches. "Literally, what is with all the milk. Milk tea? I get it. Straight milk? Who drinks tall glasses of milk?"

"You gotta try one. And I wanna try getting one of those FFreshh bars again. Mind if we swing past the mall on the way back?"

"Shopping block," she corrects him. "But sure."

It's something approaching uncomfortable, how smooth the roads are. And the alarmingly white street lamps, instead of that hypnotic yellow-orange you'd want from a late night freeway. They had decided without it being said that Frosty's the new driver.

[killemwithkawaii]

L.S.S.: Looks like we have some more questions to answer.

Mitch(3): Eheh, figures- they got a taste, and now they're just gonna keep comin...~

Mitch(3): What’dja do this time, Polly? Fuck up your hair again and now you’re too fugly to go out in public? I keep tellin ya ta quit tryin ta bleach it yerself…

L.S.S.: Are you okay, MJ? I know you haven’t been feeling well, being off your meds… have you gotten worse?

Mitch(3): Wait, they’re sick? …No wonder they haven’t come around ta bug me… Well, get better so you can come over an cook me somethin’. I got yer shit all bagged up when you do.

L.S.S.: …I have a feeling that’s not gonna happen any time soon… Uh, the crop top is… Mitch likes it when I dress this way. I didn’t really bring anything else to wear, so…

Mitch(3): Eheh, I love seein you walk about in those little short-shorts, too… eye candy AND easy access~ Now you just gotta get outa this shitty mood so I can get ya outa them…

L.S.S.: What makes you say I’m in a ‘shitty mood’?  

Mitch(3): Cuz you’ve been no fuckin fun for the past couple days! 

L.S.S.: What? We’ve been hanging out and playing games and stuff-

Mitch(3): Pssh, yeah, and you’ve been all preachy and weird the whole time… won’t even take a couple shots er nothin with me [grumbling] so fuckin lame… I don’t know why you’re still fuckin’ here if you’re ‘clean and sober’ all of a sudden…

L.S.S.: … I don’t need to be wasted to have fun with you, you know…. 

Mitch(3): ……

....Eheh, I know you wanna be though. So what, are you just takin a tolerance break or somethin then…? I got stronger shit, if you need it. You’re already fried, Fisher. Ya might as well….~

L.S.S.: …. I’m not ‘fried’.

Mitch(3): [laughing] Riiiiight, Mr. 5,000-year-old Immortal Universe-Hopper... Ya'know, maybe you should lay off a little- That story was fuckin' nuts, even for me! [laughing]

Mitch(3): Ehehe, you like what’cha see, darlin’...? Yeahhh, it’s a pretty sweet gig around these parts- plenty of customers, and the Big Dog’s got the cops all wrapped around his finger, so I don’t gotta worry about nothin.... Even gave me this little slice a heaven away from it all so I don’t gotta deal with any nosey neighbors snoopin around. 

L.S.S.: I wouldn’t exactly call this place ‘heaven’...

Mitch(3): The doors right over there, if you got a problem.

L.S.S.: ….

Mitch(3): Aaaanyway, yeah, hit me up if you need somethin- first one’s free, and as you can see [gesturing to Sal]  I can be flexible with the payment plan, if I like the looks a ya [winks]

L.S.S.: Thanks Meadow. I'm doing my best...

Mitch(3): Oh. So you're the one that put him up to this bullshit? You his sponsor or something? Ew, gross... Never mind then, you pay full price, up front, in cash.

Mitch(3): Aww, your little buddy dropped off some groceries for ya, how sweet... lemme just- [slam-dunks nicotine patches, gum and lozenges in the trash can]

L.S.S.: ...Well that was unnecessary.... you could at least cut down on the cigs-

Mitch(3): Hmmmm, feels like a full-pack kinda day... oh, and I got all this juice to go through, too? Better get to work...~

L.S.S.: [sigh] ...

L.S.S.: 'Wolfy'? You mean him...? [pointing to Mitch]

Mitch(3): Ehehe, oooh, I kinda like that... What'cha think, Sally-cat?

L.S.S.: ...I gotta say, it's fitting...

Mitch(3): Eheh, hell yeah...

I started smokin and drinkin in high school and kept moving up from there... Not exactly hard to get your hands on the good stuff in Nockfell- you can't walk more than a couple blocks without somebody tryin ta sell you some addi, and once you get over the freaky black drip, that shit replaces your morning coffee AND your afternoon tea. I'd say about half the town is hooked now. Business is booming, and I got it made...~

L.S.S.: Yeah, you're really living the high life, Mitchie...

Mitch(3): ....

Like I said, the door's right fuckin there any time you wanna get your uppity little ass off my couch and go home. I'm sure that brother a'yurs would be thrilled to see you... [laughing]

L.S.S.: ....

Mitch(3): ...That's what I thought. Now quit bein all high and mighty or I'll put you outside with the other strays....

L.S.S.: .....

...Is that why you keep looking out the window? Are you looking for your cats?

Mitch(3): They're not my cats! Those assholes can fuck off whenever they want to... [barely audible] it's just... kinda weird that they haven't come scratching at the door for a few days... those little turds better not have gotten eaten er somethin...

L.S.S.: ... I'm sure they're fine. Maybe someone took them in?

Mitch(3): [grumbling].... yeah, maybe... not like I care either way....

L.S.S.: ...sure...

[battylite]

nvm looked it up and figured it out. someone said “And the fact you OPENLY ADMIT that you're defending Brandon solely because of his "ability" or "talent" is so telling.”

LMAO do you mean someone said Ana was attacking Brandon because he has talent or that someone was arguing in his favor because they want to be on the side of talent? Literally the definition of he’s not gonna fuck you bro

Anyway insanity under the cut

The drama of the week was whether saying to be a writer you need to read is an ableist statement— or do you need to read to be a GOOD writer. Which, this was the funniest response by far:

You can't read? You think you don't have the attention span or processing capabilities to read a novel, but yet you can write your own? Most people find one objectively harder than the other. You also have no opportunity to critique other's work; people naturally develop habits based on what they see others do that they DO NOT want to replicate because shame and negative attention is more potent. There's the answer to why you can't criticize your work and no one else can either. You're also just exposing that you don't really care about being a better writer than you already are, which I guess doesn't really imply you're a bad writer now, but you're completely oblivious to your own blind spots, and in 5 years I'll be that much of a better writer than you. I really want to spam reply every tweet like this with the Dunning Kruger competency curve. Congrats on making it to unconcious incompetence!!

This was the tantrum resulting from a tweet that was literally "Oh. Okay." And this.

Brandon blocked him a while ago over a similar argument, and Ana thinks that means Brandon can’t interact with any of his tweets. So you can make a post where everyone knows who you’re talking about but the person the tweet is about can’t address it? And then your go-to reaction is to reply with a grocery list of reasons why people can't call you out on your bullshit and why they should feel guilty about it? And then you want to cry about people dogpiling you like you didn’t just do that to someone else? You can be x y and z and still be an asshole on Twitter. Not sure when we decided our own mental health wasn't our own responsibility. Nobody is required to back read your tweets before they rightly dunk on you. Not to mention it was the most harmless reply possible; frankly I think Ana was just pissed he didn’t get more of a reaction.

These people want to play the victim card so badly. This is an absolutely insane take??

I know I operate under the cold weather condition that the solution to most problems is to ignore it, but if the twitter cosmos was deleted in its entirety tomorrow this argument could not exist. You are not being marginalized, you choose to self publish your writing online and you have a Patreon. You can't blame other people for a choice you made. Alternatively you could send your book to an editor and they can tell you it's not good and you can come back and cry about it then. Like hoooolllyy fuck just admit you jerk off to negative attention and then leave the rest of us alone. Anyway fuck this guy for making Brandon deactivate and if you haven’t seen the Tylenol thread it’s insane

[arsonforcharlie]

trans men want to be extra oppressed so badly everyone shut up

lmao i mean i'd like to not face oppression, actually, but thanks for the advice?

love reblogging a post that says "transmasc people often have difficulty talking about their issues and there are some quarters that are actively hostile to that discussion" (accompanied by another post about how unproductive it is to try and rank oppression, no less) and like immediately getting an ask telling me to shut up about it because i clearly just want to be more oppressed than anyone else. that's definitely a quality addition and not just proving the point a bit, great job

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Of Ice and Blood

Part 8

Supposedly everything I post consecutively is one part, but I always reach the 250 block limit everytime so I am forced to cut it off! It's all good though, I just hope you don't mind that.

Anyways, enjoy reading! I'll be working on my requests after I post this and the slasher fic in my works.

Edit: Holy sh*t I thought it wouldn't fit but it did! (And I meant the word count you dirty lil thing—) This will be the longest part in the series yet (since 4.3k words fit perfectly)

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Fem!Human/Reader)

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: None :)

Contains: f l u f f (and maybe too much blushing but I have no regrets)

—

You let the student call the police as you tied up four unconscious men using their clothing. You left when you heard the distant sound of sirens and trusted her to explain what had transpired in the alley. You bid her farewell, resuming your walk to your destination. You breathed out your exhaustion, the little energy you got from a short nap earlier got spent punching people again.

"So...that was..."

"Expected." The orc supplied when you trailed off.

"Mm...Yeah."

Expected, both disappointing and frustrating. You did your best not to snap at the kid for it and only hoped she understood and learned.

The sun had already sunk long ago, but there was still a myriad of warm colors. Very subtle, but there. Each passing second transitioning it into a darker shade until little specks of light became visible. The sky...black in a matter of minutes. Street lamps lit your path as shops both closed and opened for the night with people saying hello and goodbye.

"Thank you, by the way. For uh, earlier." You got careless. Too careless than you usually are.

You shivered at the thought of what might've been the outcome.

He only nodded, along with a grunt of affirmation beside you.

"Are you mad?" you whispered. Was he angry at you being a stupid idiot and rushing straight into danger?

"No, just, "—he sighed, rubbing his forehead with his fingers—"worried." His scent was clearly not just of worry. He was also scowling.

-

Tai'chi was very worried about you, he always had ever since you met, which wasn't long but he felt a strong need to protect you, even if you could handle yourself well on your own. Oh, but he was angry, enraged within at those men who harmed the poor student, especially at the one who almost stabbed you at the back. If they were in his stronghold they would've been fed to the wargs.

No, he would've torn them apart himself.

You didn't speak again until you arrived at your place, finally. You're not rich and even if you were you have no desire to live in those luxurious and super expensive condos. You preferred to have something homey, small, as long as it had what you needed for comfort and safety, you were content.

It also saves a lot of money for future expenses and emergencies.

"So, uhm, welcome." You said as you unlocked your door after several tries on putting the key in. Tai'chi ducked considerably under it, his large frame barely making it through.

You took off your shoes, placed them on the side, and kept your socks on. He followed suit, taking off his boots, coming out barefooted.

It wasn't smelly, which was pretty surprising.

You headed to your kitchen and prepare dinner for both of you, but a hand on your shoulder stopped you in your tracks.

"I will cook." Tai'chi spoke and you immediately replied, stuttering.

"I-I should be the one cooking for you! It's not right. I'm the host and you're the guest it shouldn't be—"

"Pearl, I will cook." He asserted, his voice deep and confident, you sighed as it made you relent. You'd make a mess if you did anyway, might chop your hand off with a knife or dunk your head in the pot.

"Fine. But next time I'll do something for you instead," you groaned.

-

The orc grunted once before he stepped past you and into your kitchen while you plodded to your room.

Tai'chi paused for a moment to take in the details of your house. It was fairly small. From where he stood, his head was a foot away from touching the ceiling. To his left was an open way to what he assumed was the living room where he could make out half of a brown couch facing away from him. He also noticed a couple of framed photos hanging on a faded orange wall. Tai'chi glanced in the direction where you disappeared, he could hear the faint sound of the shower going on.

Good.

Not wanting to waste any more time, he started preparing dinner for the two of you, making use of what was present in your humble home. You had a similarly humble kitchen with a simple stovetop and double-door cupboards.

A decent-sized (a/n: everything is small to him okay) refrigerator sat in the corner where he found some meat in its freezer, quite a huge portion for such a small person like you, but then again he witnessed firsthand how much you could eat, and eat like an orc you did. Tai'chi reached inside to grab the meat but met resistance. He subconsciously yanked the frozen thing off, his eyes widened when he realized what he did, nearly topping over the whole appliance. Tai'chi sheepishly adjusted the refrigerator back in its place, before he looked for other ingredients while he carefully moved around to avoid any more mishaps.

-

You went inside your bedroom, groggy and disgusting as you pulled off your clothes and threw them in a basket just outside your bathroom. You stepped inside and took a long, hot, well-deserved shower to get that dried sweat and blood off of your body. After you rinsed down, you sunk yourself in your little tub, sighing in content as you tried your best not to fall asleep. You shuddered and trapped yourself in a daze, enjoying the hot water around your naked form, relaxing in the aromatherapy you made for yourself as you hummed a tune, letting your thoughts wander.

The precision of that throw was simply scary. But also cool...mm. Awesome.

I wonder what happened to the Silverstones...

Courting, huh...who would've thought I'd be courted by an orc. I wonder what that entails...

Wait, I'll be courting him too, right?

"..."

You got out when the wrinkling started. Your muscles were still aching but less so than before. You used a towel to dry down before wearing a black oversized shirt, you had about 6 of them in your wardrobe 'cause hey, not one to dress up fancy and flashy. Plus blood gets splattered on your clothes a lot, it would be a waste of time and money. You also slipped inside your favorite pair of dark grey joggers, the one you always wore when you were at home. They were comfy!

You let your hair fall over your shoulders and back since it was still damp. When you got out the scent of cooked food engulfed you, wafting from your right.

Oh, how mouth-watering it was.

You tiptoed to your kitchen to peek at what Tai'chi cooked up. Unfortunate when you couldn't see anything with his broad physique was blocking your line of sight on the table.

"I could smell you, you know."

You almost, almost let out a yelp. You wiped your drool with the hem of your shirt.

"I- uh-"

He chuckled, "You must be starving. I—" Words died in his throat when he turned around to look at you.

He gawked.

You surprised him for the nth time today. There you stood before him, relaxed and freshly cleaned up, a whiff of mint reached his nose, your shampoo perhaps, mixed with your scent. You didn't have your mask on, which gave him a full look at your face, your lips were a little chapped, half-lidded eyes showing your exhaustion.

"Is there something on my face?"

"N-No." He stuttered as he tried to get something out. "Ehem, no. You just look... I'm done with dinner, you— we should eat, and then we can talk." Tai'chi said as he moved to take a chair and sat across you. You let that go, in favor of sating your hunger.

His cheeks were a bit darker in shade than his skin, but that slipped away as the dinner in front of you grabbed your full attention. It looked and smelled like pork curry. Was it pork curry? It's like something straight out of a Ghibli movie.

Bite-sized chunks of meat, diced potatoes, and carrots coated with a rich syrupy brown soup together with a modest –at least to both of you– portion of rice next to it. It was simple, but the way it tempted your senses implied that there was something more than what meets the eye, and your nose.

Or it's your gluttony speaking, probably.

You picked up your spoon and wondered if it's as good as it appears to be. You gulped, audibly.

You brought a small portion into your mouth, nearly falling off of your seat as you resisted the urge to make any sound that would outright embarrass you, but lo, as you took another spoonful, you couldn't stop yourself from letting out a moan. Your eyes widened and immediately covered your face with two hands as you felt it heat up.

You chewed and swallowed before you squeaked out, "I-I-I'm so sorry! It- It's just so yummy and tasty and I— it's amazing, and uh..." You trailed off and groaned, at a loss of words in your embarrassment. You risked to part your fingers and peek at him. He met your gaze and you hid again. His cheeks were in a darker hue than before. Was he flustered like you? Oh no, you shouldn't have done that, now he will think you're being weird!

Tai'chi cleared his throat and you removed your hands but refused to make eye contact with him, your face still hot.

-

"We... We should eat." He said, stiff and trying to seem indifferent. But that sound you made would forever be engraved into his mind, it was both cute, and, well, sensual.

Okay fine, it was somehow arousing, but he has it under control, he will keep his damn urges in check, even if it means jumping out of the window just to make sure he won't scare you away. He's an orc of honor for goodness' sake, he swore an oath, he will keep it.

You ate fast but paused to savor the food, minus any embarrassing noises, thankfully. The curry was rich and a bit spicy, the pork was soft and tender as you chewed at it easily, juicy as it is, along with the potatoes and carrots, both cooked and prepared with obvious care. You almost cried from the combination of flavors you nearly forgot it was just curry you're eating.

But damn, this is the best curry you've eaten your whole life.

It was minutes later when you finished your fourth heaping plate of food. Tai'chi had five. He made a lot which was great, considering how your plates were wiped clean as if they weren't used in the first place.

Damn, you ate like you didn't eat for a week.

With some regained energy, you stood and took the dishes before Tai'chi could even stop you, putting them in the sink and washing them, quick and thorough. Once you were done with that, you went back to your seat, ducked your head, and stared at your lap.

"..."

"I... Thank you for the food. It was really delicious and great and everything! And, uhm, you made the pork curry like a pro and I never tasted anything so fulfilling, —my mother will beat me if she heard that—and it was a simple curry but I, it's just so, so—" you huffed, "mind-blowing!" You were rambling, you knew. You looked up when he didn't say anything.

H-He's grinning...

"Thank you. I pride myself in my skill in the kitchen and I'm happy what I made for you was satisfying." Tai'chi thumped his chest, showing that he was very honoured to hear your words. He's never telling you he almost broke your fridge though.

"It was great!" You exclaimed right after him, throwing your hands up. It was truly great. He grinned even wider at this, that dark shade still present in his cheeks, though you were no better as you could feel the warmth on your own.

"Then I am beyond happy and honored to hear that from you," liga lul, he stated, only saying of the last part in his head.

You smiled at each other.

-

"Is now a good time to discuss my kind's courting rituals?" Taichi asked after a minute of sitting there in silence.

"Y-Yes, please," you replied. "So, how do orcs court someone?"

He straightened up in his seat.

"We show off to the one we're interested in, basically speaking. Ranging from skills in fighting to proving that we could provide for our...mate." He paused, watching you closely.

You nodded for him to continue. Not gonna lie, that last part made your heart skip a beat. Mate, huh.

"We," he coughed, "we also chase or fight off other suitors, be it threatening them or engaging them in battle. And if they attempt to kidnap or hurt the person courted in any way, they will suffer the wrath of an orc."

"So, they'll...die?"

"Yes, or so that's what it usually was back home. Here, in this city, it's a crime to kill someone just for that reason, but it is law among us. No one would bat an eye if someone gets beheaded just because they were foolish enough to insult the person an orc is courting."

"Oh," pretty brutal but okay. "Is there an option where they don't get murdered or..." You asked, waving your hand around. Killing because of an insult is going overboard, in your opinion, but then again, anyone would be furious if their potential partner gets slandered or taken away forcefully.

"When the courted wills it. It is always up to them to decide the fate of those who tried to harm them, and the orc must take their words into action."

"Oh, good. I really don't want you getting in trouble just because someone called me a freak and all," you said. You looked at your hands, calloused and a little rough from experience. Scars were littered over your body and you hid them well from any curious eye with your long sleeves and pants. Though right now, some of the scars on your arms were visible.

You jerked when you felt his large hand grab your arm and moved along to yours, rubbing his thumb on the back of it, his brows furrowed as he looked at you.

"They are wrong to call you that."

"And everyone's a piece of shit to call you a beast, a savage, or a murderer," you followed up in an instant.

His expression softened, and you smiled, ignoring how your heart hammered in your chest as he continued to caress your hand.

Tai'chi could feel your pulse, beating so fast he was scared for your health. But he was happy to know he could make you feel this way, his own heart was thumping loudly in his chest too.

"As I said before, we would show that we could provide for our potential partners. We would bring to them our best kills from hunts, offer gifts crafted by ourselves if we have the skill, if not, we will buy them tokens and things that remind us of them or what pleases them."

"Wait," you interrupted, "when you insisted on cooking dinner, was that a part of courting?"

He gave you a small smile as he scratched his sideburns, sheepish like a little child caught stealing candy.

"Yes." He answered, rather quiet than his usual booming voice.

"Uhm, I must say, it was really amazing. Your cooking, I mean. And thank you, again."

"The pleasure's all mine," he replied. "Building houses or fixing the courted's current one is also a part of it."

"You're not gonna build me house right away, are you?" You joked, but then he didn't reply. "Wait, you're serious? But we're still studying and—"

"I am serious about building a house for, uh, the two of us," he interrupted, "but yes, I understand our current situation won't allow that to happen...yet."

"H-How long does the courting last?" You couldn't help but ask. He's talking about building you a house someday and you don't even know how old he is! No connection to what you're fumbling about but yeah, your mind is messed up. You are curious though...his age.

"It usually lasts for six months, to give time to get to know each other but also not prolong the courting stage so they could proceed to the next, but there are times when it lasts longer than that. You will have absolute control over how fast or slow we proceed in the courtship. That means it's up to you on when to end it and decide whether you'll...take me as your mate, or turn me down."

"Sounds pressuring but okay." You want to, like, combust right now.

He chuckled.

"Pressuring? No, no, please do not be pressured. Your word is law and I will face death by my family's ax if I disobey your final decision."

"Again with the death thingy!" You were appalled at how extreme orcs were.

"Us orcs are very strict and firmly tied to our traditions, but I can say we are changing. It is slow, but change nonetheless."

"I have a question," you raised your free hand out of habit.

Tai'chi nodded.

"I hope this is won't offend but how old are you?"

There, you said it. Oh fuck, you hoped it wasn't offending. Shit it was— asking his age, seriously?

"How old do you think I am?" He questioned, teasing you, a smirk on his lips catching you off guard.

"What? Noooo that's not an answer! I can't guess, you might get angry."

"I won't," he supplied right after. Why would he be? In fact, he is pretty much enjoying himself just watching you fidget with your ears slightly tinted pinkish. By the gods, he wants to touch them.

You sighed.

You stared at him, avoiding eye-contact as you tilted your head to get a good look at his features. He had a long and narrow scar you didn't spot before, in a lighter green color on the left side of his face. It wasn't noticeable if you stare at him up-front. It went down his neck and ended just above his collar bone. You wondered what caused it.

The orc was rough, his double tusks sharp and intimidating, even horrifying to another set of eyes but to you, he was attractive and rugged, his scent alluring and you only found him more fascinating each passing second. The scars he had enticed your curiosity but you weren't gonna ask about it, yet.

You always thought the standards set by society are rather absurd. You looked back at the time when someone asked you what your type was, along with showing you different pictures of men, human men, which were deemed "hot" (with quotation marks, yes) by most people. You didn't answer because; one, you don't know them; two, you couldn't tell what their personality was because you can't scent them; and three, it only annoyed you. People found you even weirder after that. Ironically deeming you senseless for not having an eye for beauty. No taste or missing out, they said.

But one's beauty wasn't found in sight alone.

You hummed to yourself. His hair was rich black, no trace of graying, so maybe he's not so old? 30s? How fast do orcs grow up? Do they even age? What do they look like when they were children?

You were brought back to the present when he gently squeezed your hand.

"Oh— uh, 35?" You blurted out, a bit panicked. As far as you know no one is as....buff as him in your age— but wait he's an orc!

"Oh no wait that's—"

You were cut off by a loud snort followed by a boisterous laugh coming out of Tai'chi, making you more embarrassed than you already are. His guffaw shook your apartment you swear your neighbors are filing a noise complaint tomorrow with how much he was laughing and you raising your voice.

"No," he said, "no actually, I'm still in my 23rd year. Do I really look that old?" He questioned as he chortled.

"23rd?! But you're— you're," you gestured at him. He's just five years older than you (which isn't long period of time you think) but he's— he's fucking huge! What the hell did they eat up North?

"Yes," he laughed again, amused by your reaction. "Believe it or not I am. Orcs begin training at age 6" he shifted the topic, "The adults would let them choose their desired weapon and craft to pursue, but also allowed them to experience all selections, from swords, battle axes, hammers, and many more, along with skills and crafts like hunting, blacksmithing, combat, construction, even basket weaving.

"I went on my first hunt when I was 12 and brought a stag back home. I tamed my first warg at 15, named him Nadul, Orcish for 'night'."

"6 year old me snuck out of the house during nap time to collect twigs in the woods while you were wielding weapons and—"

"That is correct,"

"And you had a pet warg?" You knew what wargs are, you read about them when you were in high school, along with other animals that fascinated you. They looked like large wolves with the stature of an adult grizzly bear and can carry a full-grown orc into battle.

"Have," he corrected, his fluffy buddy was still very much alive and well the last time he went back to visit his home, which was three months ago. He doubted anything could take down Nadul, not even a Frostbear, he was the one who trained him after all.

"I still can't believe you're 23. You look so..."— you were not gonna say old, no— "mature."

"At a different rate from humans, yes."

Of course they do. You got so much to learn about orcs, and him.

"And you? How old are you?"

"19."

"Oh? You look 13 with how little you are,"

You didn't expect him to be playful like this, but you went along.

"Hey! I'm only small compared to you, you giant!" True, you were a tad shorter than most girls your age but it has its perks! You'd save a lot of money from buying clothes just because you grew rather slowly. "And in fact, I'm still growing!"

"So am I." He grinned, smugness painted all over his face.

"Noooo, if you keep growing you won't fit through the doorway!" You whined, pouting at how much of a tease he was being.

He found it adorable, the way your lower lip was upturned as you looked at him. The sudden urge to pat you rose but he didn't act on it.

"Do not worry, us orcs stop growing in our 25th year," or not. "And I will make sure to feed and treat you good so you'll become taller!" he stated confidently. Tai'chi was about to laugh again, but he froze with his jaw open when you turned real red, your ears tinted and your lips quivered, unable to speak out anything.

That last part, made your face feel like fire just kissed it, twice. Panicked and having no idea what to retort, you let your head fall on the table with a thud. You gripped his hand tight and took silent breaths to calm your thumping heart down.

"Y-Yeah... I..I l-look forward to that, Tai'chi." You were able to say that at least.

He gave a soft grunt as he looked at you on the table.

You were very flustered, he scented. His comment-sort-of-declaration was clearly the reason. But oh, he had no regrets. He will make sure you're healthy and well-fed, and it's just one way of showing off with his skills.

That's only the beginning.

You were in for some Orcish surprises.

You sat in comfortable silence again for a while, just taking in each other's scents, soothing and calming your hammering heart. Tai'chi continued to caress your hand, gentle for such a big orc like him. He could snap your neck with two fingers alone, but he remained careful like he was holding a thing so delicate.

Tai'chi could feel your pulse slow down to a normal rate, your scent shifted to that of a relaxed state and something fuzzy. He can't call you his yet, you just met today but you already got him wrapped around your tiny fingers. First, he will court you and show his admiration, prove his worth. And you, yourself, turning it into love the more you spend time together, he knows it will.

And he'll surely be damned to let this chance slip. Not once did he took interest in getting a mate before, his mind too busy and filled with his responsibilities along with studies in other kind's culture, and taking care of his siblings.

But back then and there, something pulled on his heart, the way your eyes stared into his for seconds that felt longer than eternity itself. An exaggeration, but that's what he felt.

He found you.

-

You were about to doze off so you removed your head from the table and tried to blink away your sleepiness, the light hurting you a little. You should get to bed soon, your first class starts at 8 in the morning. You stared at Tai'chi, admiring that blue eyes of his, its hue similar to that of lapis lazuli, you thought.

"I should take my leave now. We need to rest, especially you." Tai'chi said when he saw how tired you appeared, you were barely keeping your eyes open. He stood up from his seat, lightly pulling you up with him. You shook your head, rubbing your eyes as you led him to your door.

"Keep safe," you bid once he was ready to go.

"You as well... I will see you tomorrow."

"Mm, g'night."

Tai'chi breathed through his nose before he placed a kiss on your forehead. It was brief, but it sent a pleasant warmth all over your body. You were too sleepy to even bother being shy now, so you only smiled at him.

"Goodnight, lak'mar lul." He gazed at you, sighing before he stepped out of your apartment.

You stood there for a moment before you checked your door and made sure it was deadlocked. You killed the lights off as you sluggishly trudged to your bed. Darkness enveloped your home, a welcome one. You crawled to the middle and tucked yourself under the dark blue cotton sheets.

You were out like a light once you settled down. Much too many things happened right after another, draining you to an exhaustingly low point. You only prayed you'd feel better in the morning.

Your last thought was about how warm the orc was, and how, for some reason, his scent, his presence, felt like a home you never had, which was saying something since you had encountered a lot of scents in your life, both good and bad. You hugged your pillow tight as you succumbed to a dreamless slumber.

—

I'm putting this off for a bit to give time for requests and other WIPs. But if a random continuation pops out I'll have to write it down and set it aside for editing later.

Thank you for reading!

[taylortruther]

This tily drama is reminding me how to there can be no casual discussion on social media

It's not believable to me but sending anonymous hate to people just because they have a different opinion than you about taylor swift's life is not cool, I'm not fond of how they respond to some of the criticism but they are getting homophobic messages as well and that's ridiculous like queer people on the internet should be more important to you than defending a millionaire's relationship with a heterosexual man, if you don't like something or somebody's content then unfollow/block them, like come on obvi everyone who doesn't find it interesting is not a tay/Joe shipper but sometimes it seems like people are just fighting over what version of Taylor's life they prefer

Like I agree with most of the opinions related to this ship shared on your blog but like it's if people don't like something just stay in your space lol

-end rant-

"there can be no casual discussion on social media" - this is honestly so true. because half the conversation isn't between individuals, it's between, say, a blog that got 10 anons about the same topic, or a user who just got retweeted by 400 people that agree or disagree. it ends up weirdly tribalistic.

but i also don't think it's reasonable to expect people to just... not talk about it outside of the space it was "intended" for. we're gossiping about all kinds of stuff daily.

i mean, most of y'all are here because i screenshot TTB and SR's posts and make fun of them. so i have to assume if you follow my blog you're ok with that kind of content. so. i mean. i'm not gonna do that to tillies because it's unwarranted. but dunking on kaylor's inconsistent "theories" was fun for everyone here, so i'm just confused about why it's now a problem to say "that other theory is also goofy."

(i know this sort of deviated from the point of your ask, sorry)

[officialfearlessdreamer-blog]

(Almost) THE ENTIRE SEASON ONE GLITCHTALE TRANSCRIPT

[S1EP1]

* You tell sans "I'm sorry... take my SOUL and fix my mistakes, one last time"

Sans: hehe aren't you missing something buddy?

but first...

get dunked on you megalomaniac

(yes that's it, refer to http://dulcetrefrain.com/2015/11/18/megalovania-original-lyrics-undertale/ for the song)

[S1EP2]

???: FACINATING

THIS TIMELINE IS... STRANGE

MAYBE... JUST MAYBE

Sans: * heya

* my break just started

* wanna go to grillby's?

Sans:

* cool

* over here

* i know a shortcut

[* You don't remember a door like this being here.]

Sans: * welp, here we are

* so, i wanted to talk about what happened in the last timeline...

???: AH, YES

I'VE BEEN WATCHING YOU FRISK

YOUR DETERMINATION EXCEEDS MOST.

WITH THAT KIND OF POWER

WITH THAT KIND OF SOUL

I COULD RETURN

I COULD BE WHOLE AGAIN

???: I'M AFRAID I CAN NOT ALLOW YOU TO DO THAT

I'VE BEEN WAITING SO LONG FOR THIS OPPORTUNITY

???: I JUST HAVE TO KILL YOU ONCE, RIGHT?

Sans: * we'll chat later. let's get outta here.

???: "why can't i teleport?" RIGHT?

YOU'RE STUCK IN HERE WITH ME

(a bunch of fighting nonsense continues)

???: FINALLY

Sans: * hey kid i don't wanna alarm you

* but i can't really beat this guy

Gaster: AH... SO YOU REMEMBER WHAT I'M CAPABLE OF

THERE'S NO WAY FOR YOU TO WIN... AND YOU KNOW IT.

Sans: * hey, remember the last timeline?

* let's do it

Gaster: I'LL TAKE THIS IF YOU DON'T MIND

[* Gaster is taking your SOUL...]

[* But it refused]

Sans: * heh. good job kid.

* ya had me... "dead" worried there

(a bunch of fighting nonsense goes on and zero dialog happens)

Gaster: IT APPEARS I'M REACHING MY LIMIT

BUT I WON'T GIVE UP EASILY

I WILL COME BACK!

(some more fighting nonsense)

Gaster: YOU CAN'T UNDERSTAND HOW THIS FEELS

TO BE ALONE...

TO BE HELPLESS.

ADBANDONED!

FORGOTTEN

I JUST WANT TO COME BACK...

Sans: * destroying everything in your path is not the right way G

Gaster: I'LL USE ANY MEANS NECESSARY

Sans: * sorry

* hey kid... after this reset take your time in the ruins

* gotta do something quick...

[S1EP3]

Sans: * yalright kid?

Sans: * so...

* about what happened earlier...

* we gotta stop doing that.

* we can't just... reset timelines like that.

* it might have side-effects on things we *don't* want to happen.

Sans: * imagine it as a matter of probabilities

* the more we screw around with the timelines...

* the more are the chances of bad things to happen

* things that aren't supposed to be here are here

* so keep an eye out for anything that seems... "odd" k?

* alright then, if ya need me, give paps a ring. i'll be there

???: * these errors are fun you know

* I also found that you only need DETERMINATION to exist in this world

* and those weird... melted monsters gave me enough to exist for a good while

Chara: * even enough to match YOURS

Flowey: * why is that brat taking so long

Chara: * and with your determination in my power things will be way easier

Flowey: * HEY! Smiley trashbag wake up!

Sans: * well now...

* what are you doing here?

Flowey: * It's Chara...

* They got Frisk.

Sans: * why are you even telling me this?.

Flowey: * Don't get me wrong, I still hate you

* But none of us would survive if they got control over the timeline...

Chara: * how cute...

* This will be interesting

* we got a comedian

* a traitor...

* and a "megalomaniac"

(more fighting shenanigans)

Chara: * welcome to my special hell

* This is all your fault...

* we just had to get 6 souls...

* but you decided to show them mercy

* you betrayed me Asriel

* we ended up like this because of you

* but I won't show you any mercy

* it's kill or be killed after all...

Flowey: * NOW SANS!

(oops chara got BELIEF)

[S1EP4]

Sans: * feelin better?

* i'm tryna fix something here at the moment

* hey flowey could you pass me the wrench from over there?

Flowey: * do I look like your stupid assistant?

Sans: * please?...

Flowey: * yeah, sure, whatever...

* take your stupid wrench!

Sans: * thank you

* alright, it's done

* let's hope it works this time

Flowey: * wait... "hope"?

* "this time"?

* how many times have you tried this before?

Sans: * just a couple of hundred of times

* but if that demon child managed to get back on their own

* i'm pretty sure i can bring "him" back

* uh... you should close your eyes a bit

Gaster: IMPOSSIBLE... HOW DID HE...

Sans: * heya...

Gaster: HEYA

DID YOU 'MIST' ME?

Sans: * heh... let's a-void the jokes for now...

* we got a huge problem at the moment

* and your help will come in 'handy'

Flowey: * your jokes are disgusting...

Sans: * hey, what's wrong kiddo

Gaster: * OH!

* D-DON'T WORRY LITTLE HUMAN

* I HAVE NO INTENTIONS TO HARM YOU

Sans: * so... i need to ask ya a favor

* you know where the human souls are right?

* please take us there

Gaster: * VERY WELL

* LET'S GO

Sans: * here...

Flowey: * WHAT?

* do you... trust me?

Sans: * kinda...

* you'll be more useful with those anyways

Flowey: * I still hate you

Sans: * sure why not

Chara: * so predictable

* isn't this hilarious

* if you think you got any chance to win... you're wrong

* I have... a small surprise too

* remember what these are?

* you never got to use all the DETERMINATION extracted in the past...

* I'm excited to see how long you'll survive

* COME =)

Sans: * make sure to keep that button blocked G

* and keep the kid safe

(goddamn a lot of fighting happens)

Gaster: WAIT HERE

(more goddamn fighting jesus christ

Sans: * heh...

* i don't like to use my real special attack

* i get bone tired after that, but...

* you deserve it

Chara: * I've got a question for you Asriel

* Do you know what black means?

* It's HATE

* And I have a LOT of it to share

[* You call for help...]

[* ...]

Chara: * But nobody came

[* You're filled with DETERMINATION]

[* You call for help]

Asriel: * Chara look!

* The music comes from that statue

* hey, Chara

* It's me

* Your Best Friend

[part 2 coming soon]