#it's already eaten this stupid thing once and i am cranky about it

[amorremanet]

@gaymoregirls See, I like Heath Ledger’s Joker, but I agree with Amanda that he got (and still gets) a lot of hype that isn’t entirely deserved bc it was Heath’s last complete role before he died (—and now I’m grumpy at L*to for exploiting that as part of his, ““prep”” for Suicide Squad again, oh joy).

Otoh, Heath also got a lot of over-hype because he was in the Nolanverse, which gets a lot of over-hype as a general rule because it has Chris Nolan at the helm and it’s supposed to be all ~Serious And Edgy And Artsy And Cool, Ooooo~ — I mean, it even has parts that I enjoy, but is the Dark Knight trilogy overall really better than the average comic book movie series, or does it get hyped up because it’s the cinematic cousin of shit like The Dark Knight Returns (which gets over-hyped because it’s supposedly an ~Edgy Deconstruction~ when…… actually, it’s more like “Why Pseudo-Fascism Is Totally Legit If You Are Filthy Rich And Wear A Batman Costume,” by Frank Miller)

Example of this principle in action with someone other than Heath: when The Dark Knight Rises came out, Actual Marxist Intellectual Guy, Slavoj Žižek, put out some “think-piece” about how Tom Hardy!Bane is a the real hero, a crusader for the common people, representing the rising up not of The Dark Knight but of the people who are oppressed and downtrodden by late-stage Capitalism, and this means the movie is totally a crypto-Marxist treatise, even though……… no, man, I’m preeeeetty sure it’s not?

—but, y’know, the movies are Serious And Shit, so Bane must have some legit deep, intentional sociopolitical significance (—I mean, I would say there’s a level where you can read him with that in mind, but it’s not that deep, it’s probably not intentional, and he’s definitely not a Marxist hero or whatever)

and because Žižek is a Marxist Intellectual (which I guess means that he isn’t allowed to just enjoy a movie anymore, he has to come up with some kind of ~Deep Reason~ or other for that), that (alleged) deep significance must be that Bane is the REAL hero of TDKR and blah blah blah, Bane In Leather Pants With A Marxist Paint-Job

…which all goes back to Heath’s Joker because a huge part of him being overhyped, in addition to the whole, “Heath died” thing? Has generally been that he’s a Nihilistic weirdo who spouts off a lot of lines that he cribbed from, like… a badly translated Edgelord’s Introduction to Nietzsche, The Killing Joke, Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth, the Man Who Laughs story, a badly translated Edgelord’s Introduction to Camus, and some How To Be A Nihilist series on youtube. Because…… being on the nose and open about your ““philosophical ideas”” means you’re Serious and Artsy or something??

So… idk. I enjoy him — and there was definitely always an element of it that came down to The Heath Factor, because I’m fangirl garbage, oops — but it’s also kind of like? He’s the best Joker for the Nolanverse, but trying to apply him to non-Nolanverse Bat-stories isn’t going to work, not because, ““nobody can replace Heath,”” but because he has a very particular mood and way of doing things that only really works as a take on the Joker within the walls and by the rules of the Nolanverse.

Then, his appeal (at least, in my experience) tends to depend a lot on how people feel about the Nolanverse in general. Like, it’s rare to find anyone saying that Heath didn’t create a good performance with the material — and arguably salvaged it from being a complete dumpster fire, given how many things he improvised or went, “hey, Chris, what if we did this differently” about — but a lot of the bigger, broader criticisms of the Nolanverse have a clearly expressed form in Heath’s Joker, so it’s like…… If their take on the Bat-Mythos isn’t something general-you like, his Joker isn’t likely to be high up your list, either

……idk, my favorite reading of him is that all of his “philosophy”-spouting nonsense is actually an in-character tic (—I mean, even by the kinda broken standards of the Nolanverse, the Heath Joker parrots on about “philosophy” more than the average person), and that he’s essentially a pretentious performance artist who woke up one morning and went, “I think I’ll go be a criminal today” because he had an abusive dad, or his wife left him, or he was a US soldier in Iraq and something something Hollywood PTSD, or whatever reason anybody likes, and he has a lot in common with some of the other creative arts people who I went to undergrad with

(namely, the ones who insisted that everything they did was Hella Significant, even when they literally just threw paint at a canvas while on their fourth day without sleep, because it was finals time and their portfolio was still a few pieces short, or who made shit up in all their theatre classes because they didn’t do the work but didn’t want to get called on it, and they were so charming and had a passable familiarity with the terms and concepts, so they got away with it, or similar)

—but that’s also clearly not the reading that CNolan wanted the audience to walk away from the movie with (I mean, he clearly wanted us to see Heath Joker as a criminal mastermind and a terrorist — which he really wasn’t subtle about, even by Nolanverse standards, between the, “lol let’s invoke the popular imagery of Osama bin Laden and his video threats” shit, and Alfred and Harvey literally calling the Joker a terrorist when they said shit like, “Should we give in to this terrorist’s demands?” and, “Perhaps both Bruce and Mr. Dent believe that Batman stands for something more important than the whims of a terrorist, Ms. Dawes”)

So, TL;DR: as much as I personally like Heath’s Joker…… eh? There are a lot of very fair reasons why someone wouldn’t like him, he’s over-hyped just like everything about the Nolanverse, and he really only works in the Nolanverse, which limits his appeal by a lot

@megaevolvedthot …I had something more that I wanted to say here before I got distracted and over-talkative at Boxy, but I can’t remember what it was, apart from, “Yeah, I agree. He’s one of my personal favorites because I’m fangirl garbage and have a very non-Nolan-approved reading of him that I like better than the official one……

“……but he really doesn’t have the versatility of, say, Mark Hamill’s Joker, and being one of the most notable Grimdark McEdgelord Jokers — and probably the most popular of them, since the ones who go further in that than he does tend to be in the comics, more contentious with fans, and definitely not as widely-seen as the Nolanverse flicks — affects things in several ways”

—sooo… yeah. I agree, and that thing I just said

[cooliogirl101]

When they meet, Hashirama is a 18-year-old boy who’s known as an idealist fool with dreams bigger than himself and Hisana is a 15-year-old civilian girl with a cranky, elderly donkey as her only companion.

“No, no, no, not again,” Hisana groaned as she woke up to see that Carrot had-- once again-- chewed through her ropes and was now chomping away at some flowers further down the road. “Goddammit, get back here, you stupid donkey!”

At the sight of Hisana running towards her, Carrot took off at a fairly impressive speed, considering she was 22 years old and had arthritis. Not for the first time, Hisana considered just letting her go-- but then, that wouldn’t do. There were wolves out there (probably), just waiting to make a meal out of some poor old donkey, and Carrot was pretty slow when she wasn’t making Hisana’s life difficult. She wouldn’t survive.

The sound of muffled laughter caught Hisana’s attention and she looked up to see a teenage boy perched in a tree (where had he even come from??), one hand covering his mouth in a very poor attempt at hiding his amusement.

“Need some help?” He offered, eyes glinting with humor as he took in Hisana’s sorry attempt at chasing down her donkey.

Hisana briefly considered turning him down to try and preserve what remained of her dignity, then glanced back at Carrot’s departing figure and promptly decided it was too early in the morning for things like personal pride and chasing down donkeys.

“If you don’t mind,” she said, only a little grudgingly. The stranger’s lips quirked up and he disappeared in a swirl of leaves, only to reappear holding Carrot’s reins a second later.

Hisana blinked. So he was a shinobi. Alrighty, then.

“Here you go,” the stranger said cheerfully, a grumpy donkey trotting behind him.

Scowling, Hisana marched up to Carrot and swatted her lightly on the head.

“Do that again and I’ll make donkey skewers out of you, don’t think I won’t,” she threatened. Carrot nudged at her, nosing around for something to eat, and Hisana sighed, wrapping her arms around Carrot’s neck in a hug before turning to the stranger.

“Thank you. Really,” she said, giving him a faint smile. “You saved me ten minutes of chasing after her.”

“No need to thank me! It was no trouble at all, honestly,” the stranger laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was glad to help.”

Hisana studied him for a moment. She didn’t think he was acting, exactly, but there was something almost scripted about the way he spoke, his posture, his expressions, every movement carefully telegraphed. Like he was taking care to appear as harmless as possible.

It didn’t take a genius to realize why. This may have been her first time encountering a shinobi in person, but she’d heard more than enough stories.

They’re killers, Hisana, plain and simple. People without honor, who slaughter children, innocents, each other-- whoever they’re paid to slaughter-- without hesitation or remorse. Monsters in every sense of the word.

“Hey, um,” she said slowly. “Have you eaten?”

“I beg your pardon?” The shinobi asked, startled.

“I asked if you’d had breakfast yet,” Hisana repeated. “If not, would you care for something to eat? I can offer you--” She paused to mentally take stock of her food inventory. “--leftover meat buns, half an apple, and some vaguely sketchy berries.”

The shinobi coughed.

“Vaguely sketchy berries?” He asked, lips twitching. Hisana shrugged.

“I mean, I’m pretty sure they’re harmless. I’ve been snacking on them for days and I haven’t died yet, which is a good sign.” She smiled at him. “So, breakfast?”

“Yeah,” the shinobi said quietly, after a pause. There was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, almost like he was waiting for her to withdraw her invitation. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

~~

“I’m Hisana, by the way.”

“Hashirama. It’s very nice to meet you, Hisana.”

~~

Hashirama ended up staying for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and then for another two days past that. Shinobi, it turned out, made for very good hunters, something Hisana discovered very quickly into their acquaintance.

“Hashirama,” she said, staring at the struggling rabbit in Hashirama’s hand. “This is the fifth rabbit you’ve brought me. I appreciate the thought, but--” She gestured helplessly in the general direction of the rabbit. “--it’s really too much.”

“It’s okay, you can save it for later!” His expression fell. “Unless you’re tired of rabbits? Wait no, of course you’d be tired of rabbits, I should have thought of that. I can get you something else instead? Maybe a pheasant? I think I saw some pheasants around here.”

Hisana studied him for a moment.

“Hashirama,” she said abruptly. “Why did you decide to travel with me?”

“What do you mean?” Hashirama asked, brow furrowed.

“I mean that I’m well-aware I’m slowing you down. Don’t deny it, you can’t tell me that your maximum speed is that of a twenty-something year-old donkey,” she said, exasperated. “I’m not the best at cooking, and we’ve already established that you’re a far better of a hunter than I am. So why stay? Why travel with me when it’d be easier for you to travel alone?”

He was quiet for a long moment.

“You knew I was a shinobi and invited me to stay anyway,” he said finally, voice soft. He wasn’t quite meeting her eyes. “And besides, I like talking to you.”

Hisana swallowed, caught off guard.

“And I like talking to you,” she replied quietly. “I didn’t invite you along because I wanted your protection, or someone to hunt for me, or anything like that, Hashirama, I did so because I have fun spending time with you. If you like catching rabbits or whatever, that’s fine. But don’t feel like you have to do so for my sake, or that you need to-- to prove something to me.”

Hashirama let out a slightly shaky laugh.

“I’m sorry. I guess I’m not very used to this,” he admitted. “You know, you’re the first civilian I’ve spent time with outside of a mission?”

“Well, you’re the first shinobi I’ve ever met,” she replied. He looked at her, surprised.

“Seriously? But you weren’t scared at all!” He exclaimed.

“Well, that’s on you,” she scoffed. “You weren’t very frightening.”

“Or maybe you’re just not very easy to scare,” he answered.

“If that helps your ego, sure,” Hisana grinned.

She reached down to stroke Carrot’s neck.

“So tell me, what was it like, growing up as a shinobi?

When Hashirama hesitated, she added, “You can lie about all the classified parts. It’s not like I would know, anyway.”

Hashirama laughed, shaking his head.

“Alright, then,” he said, smiling. “But I’m warning you, it’s really not as interesting as you’re probably imagining. I grew up in a large ninja clan, and--”

Bonus:

“Care to explain why you came back from your mission three days late?” Tobirama asked flatly. “Half the clan thought you’d died.”

Hashirama smiled, a slightly dreamy look in his eyes. Tobirama didn’t like it at all.

“Just took a detour, that’s all.”

The next time they meet, several years later, Hashirama is the newly appointed leader of his clan and Hisana has built a name for herself as a wandering clan-less healer (she listens for rumors of recent battles/bandit attacks/shinobi disputes and goes wherever there’s recent bloodshed. In doing so, she creates quite a few connections and ends up building the shinobi world’s largest, most detailed information network completely by accident).

[misfits-den]

AU in which Wei WuXian never joins a sect

I've got this idea while staring at the wall trying to convince myself that there is a benefit to getting out of bed, and it's been itching me since, so here. I'm throwing it out there in hopes someone will like it, or maybe someone already thought of it in which case I'll be grateful for pointing

Warning: I am very new to the concept of cultivation and am mostly extrapolating from what I've read in like five novels/comics, please correct me if I've got something obviously wrong, I want to learn

As it says on the lid - Wei WuXian somehow missed every possible chance to join a sect, and when finally that chance all but slapped him in the face, he went like "no, thanks".

Little scrappy Wei WuXian living on the streets Xue Yang style, having bad and good things happen to him (mostly bad though, he's a child on the streets). He doesn't have anyone to properly teach him stuff, sans occasional granny or grandpa wiling to mistake him for their grandchild and explain, but he's smart and curious, so he mostly learns by watching other people do things. He learns this way how to sew, how to cook, how to fight, how to make a fire, how to steal. He takes what little he knows how to read and learns more by blatantly "misreading" things and having people correct him while calling him stupid. He trails after hunters and learns how to make a camp, which berries/roots can be eaten, how to catch and prepare game.

He also watches those people in colorful clothes fight all those scary monsters and people-who-were-dead-but-no-longer-are. They’re kind of like his parents were, and Wei WuXian remembers what they told him when he asked, he watches those new people, and puts two and two together. He doesn't get a 4, but he does get like a 4.3 and it's basically correct if you round it.

It's a lot of trial and error,:if I do this then that will happen, and when I do this then it hurts. But it's something to connect him to his parents, and he realizes later it's useful because he's slowly hearing better and smelling better, and he can see his prey very clearly, and he gets stronger.

He never gets a sword, because who can afford a sword on his budget, but he can make himself arrows just fine. And look, the mourning cultivators play instruments to fight, maybe he can learn that too? And he saw a few of the cultivators with big swords punch the creatures, and he has two fists too. He picks talismans dropped by those in yellow, and reverse-engineers them.

This time around he didn't have a cranky teacher to kick him out of the class for suggesing using resentful energy, or friends who told him that this time cranky teacher may be right. If he grabbed some from time to time, shhh it's a secret.

And so we have this rogue, self-taught cultivator, that sometimes spends more time in the wild than with people. One day he will bring a deer to the towns butcher, another day he will bring a yao no one recognizes. He's always happy to get rid of some corpses for a warm meal and night in the house. Maybe a chance to take a hot bath. As he grows and gets stronger, he fights stronger and stronger "evil creatures", with absolutely no reference point of how strong they are.

At some point, of course, the sects hear about him. Maybe they're angry he's hunting on their territory and want to chase him away. Maybe they've heard about him single-handedly defeating some really dangerous creature one too many times and want to teach him a lesson about lying for reputation. Maybe they realize they get fewer and fewer requests from people becuase this guy is just cheaper. Whatever the reason, no one manages to find him, because when you live on the streets, being "looked for" is generally a bad thing.

That's when the real fun begins, because for everything that happened to him, there are two things that never changed from canon - Wei WuXian is a good, mischievous person. At the beginning, he only avoided people looking for him, but once he realized he can get away from them easily? The game was on. He would lead the younger ones on wild goose chase ending in a cave full of rabid, mutated squirrels. He will string the older ones by the nose across two mountains and three swamps, knocking their swords from under their feet left and right. He will trap them in a illusion maze and watch them walk in circles for hours. Sometimes they aren't even looking for "rogue cultivator" him, sometimes he just didn't get a chance to bathe and gets mistaken for a creature. There are even some who claim he's not a human, but a regular ghost, since he's so small, if he was human he would be barely a teen, no way he can do all that already.

Unable to live down the humiliation, senior disciples start claiming that being sent after him is a rite of passage, and juniors drink it up. In a few years, it does end up being one. While the goal is to catch him, since only ever Nie MingJue managed to do that for all of six seconds [Wei WuXian mistook him for older and didn’t expect a “child” way of thinking from him], you get graded by how well you hunt him. How many times you get dunked in a pond. How well you reacted to suddenly being dropped in the middle of a pack of conveniently present corpses. How fast you've got yourself out of a trap. If you manage to get a glimpse of him, you get the bragging rights.

Wei WuXian keeps his distance, but there are some he likes more than others. The one from Jiang sect that gets angry really easily, almost got him by swimming faster than Wei WuXian anticipated. He also got him once out of a pinch, and his nice sister left him some snacks as a thank you. There's a Lan one who Wei WuXian swore he will get a reaction from. A Nie one that suggested right away that he will leave Wei WuXian some books from his collection if he spares him. A Jin one, who seems really pampous even for his sect, that's really fun to prank (and if Wei WuXian heard he's engaged to the nice Jiang sister, it has nothing to do with it). And that shy Wen one, Wei WuXian just never had a heart to properly prank, and instead when he got his sleeve pinned by arrow, he waited long enough to praise him for his archery before running.

He could join any of the sects, and he knows it, and maybe it would make his life easier, but the Lan's have really bland food [yes, he snuck in] and that wall of rules; he wants to punch every Jin that's around him for more than five minutes; the madam of Jiang sect is scary; and the Nie's don't have enough forest around them in his opinion. He also doubts the smaller sects would let him keep his way.

Worst of all, he would have to wear matching clothes. Ugh.

No thanks.

Just, half-feral Wei WuXian running around, pranking the ever loving shit out of everyone, being overall a sect public menace number one.

[purplesurveys]

1010

survey from diggitydoo

Have you ever felt a baby kick? Yes, when my mom was pregnant with my brother. What color pants/shorts are you wearing? I’m only wearing a duster gown; no shorts underneath. I just got it last night, actually - my mom wanted to donate clothes to victims of a recent fire incident in Manila and so she asked my sister and I to sort through our closets for clothes we were willing to give away. My sister ended up giving away a comfy-looking duster gown that she never even wore and even smelled brand new to boot. It ended up in my hands, ha. But apart from that we gave away a lot of stuff that aren’t old uniforms or costumes (which is what most people tend to ‘donate’, ugh), so we just hope they end up with people who really need them. When is the last time you did something truly fun, and what was it? Last night I went on our org’s Discord server and we played Jackbox games for around an hour or so. It was my first time to socialize again after around two months and I really, really needed that moment. I even met the org’s newest roster of applicants for this semester, which was neat. :) What was the scariest moment of your life? Men terrorizing me or near-car crashes I’ve had.

Have you ever heard of Leonard Cohen? The name is familiar, but that’s the most I know.

Pancakes or flapjacks? I guess pancakes, since I don’t even know what flapjacks are. What kind of computer are you on? It’s a laptop. Do you eat Chinese food? If so, what's your favorite dish? For sure. Pork buns or minced pork with eggplant. With century egg on the side, yum. What are you usually doing at midnight? Either passed out or desperately trying to sleep because I don’t want to lose any more hours of sleep and risk being cranky for the whole of the next day. Have you ever developed feelings for a friend, but you were already with someone? No. The worst thing that’s happened was being someone’s ball date (and unbeknownst to me, they apparently had feelings for me at the time) while I was already with someone. If so, how did it turn out? He figured it out by himself, which I still feel bad about. But the timing was super off and I just couldn’t find a moment to sit him down and set the record straight...ah well. It was just super complicated at the time. Give me your brief definition of love. My favorite love-related quote is “Love never says ‘I have done enough’” and for the longest time, that has been my guiding principle when it comes to it. Definitely a tad bit cheesy, but telling myself that over and over makes it easier to continue loving the people I care for and be patient with them when they’re being asses. Gab included, then and now. What is the most beautiful part of the human body, male or female? It differs for everyone but I’m a thigh girl through and through. What kind of shoes do you wear? Uh...various ones? I have sneakers, flats, heels, flip-flops, probably a couple more kinds that I can’t place at the moment. What is the worst thing you've ever done when you were really angry? Resorting to physical violence. I was a kid constantly exposed to violence in my old home, and at the time I genuinely thought that’s how most things were settled or pacified. I still feel like shit about it to this day, and my backstory isn’t an excuse at all; but the past is the past and I’ve been trying to make up for it by being a much more gentle angry person in the last few years. Are there any pills you take on a daily basis? If so, what? Nope. Do you like the smell of coconuts? For some reason I can’t stand anything coconut (which is a damn shame considering I’m Filipino) but I love dishes with heaps of coconut milk in them, like curry. That’s the one coconut-related thing I enjoy, but otherwise I’ve never learned to appreciate the taste and smell of buko juice, coconut shavings, coconut pies, and everything else coconut. What is the heaviest you think you can lift? From what my old PE class showed me, around 70 to 80 lbs. Do you take Tums? Idk what that is so I guess I don’t. Have you ever walked on a pier at the beach? I’m not sure if I’ve been to a pier before. I bet it feels wonderful and freeing and I’d love to visit one; but I also can’t keep myself from associating piers with the recurring image of Jennifer Connelly’s character standing on one from Requiem for a Dream. How about under one? No. At what age do you first remember feeling butterflies in your stomach around someone? Not sure if it was 11 or 12, but it was definitely one of those years. Do you feel that way around anyone now? Yeah, if they allowed me to see them. But I’m shut out now so I haven’t had that sensation in a while.

Do you ever talk to yourself or think deep thoughts while on the toilet? No. Do you ever sing to yourself? Sure. I’m sure most people do every once in a while. What is a sound that relaxes you? Ocean waves have never failed. How hard has it been to reach your main goal in life? ‘Main goal’ sounds so overwhelming; I make it a point to avoid one overarching goal and instead make little goals and plans here and there depending on where I am in life. Do you remember the song about hoes in different area codes? Never heard of it. What is your main heritage? Filipino. What kind of pickles do you prefer, if you like pickles? I hate pickles. What kind of cheese do you prefer, if you like cheese? Mozzarella and feta are my faves, but I love cheese and am willing to be adventurous when it comes to it. If you could have a sea creature as a pet, what would you want? Eh, they can stay in the sea where they can actually survive. I don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to keeping fish as pets. How about a farm animal? Probably pig. So, do you have hoes in different area codes? No, and ew. What is the most annoying song you can think of that came out recently? Haven’t been exposed to a lot of new music lately and the songs I do get to hear on the radio whenever I drive are actually pretty good. This totally doesn’t answer your question but my favorites so far have been Birthday by Disclosure, Kehlani, and Syd; and Plain by Benee, Lily Allen, and Flo Milli. What is a song that you hate to admit you like? Any Kanye song I like. What inspires you to get off your bum and do something productive? Not wanting to go into another downward spiral. Do you ever use Urban Dictionary? Extremely rarely. I only do when there’s a new slang I’m completely unfamiliar with. Do you find the definitions on there to be generally funny or stupid? Stupid for the most part. I find them too immature or vulgar, but that’s one of the points of the website so I guess I’m just not in their target audience lol. What comes to your mind when you hear the word 'transformation'? Uh, the Transformer robots.

What was something you regularly played with as a child? My cousins’ toy soldiers.

Have you ever given in to peer pressure? Eh, a few times. If so, what did you do? I’ve been pulled to drinking sessions here and there when I really shouldn’t be drinking because I had an important test tomorrow or something else was happening the next day that was just as significant. What part of your body have you had the most problems with in your life? Teeth, I’m pretty sure. I’ve had braces, needed a tooth extracted, gotten a cavity, and gone through a severe toothache.

Do a lot of people check you out when you're in public? Idk I never look around because being aware of it would just freak me out and make me feel like I’m naked. What is a good name for a turtle? Would depend on their personality. And this applies to all kinds of pets, at least for me. I don’t decide on their names until I have a good grasp of their attitude. Can you imitate any accents well? If so, which one(s)? Stereotypical Filipino mom and valley girl. Do you like having your ear nibbled on? Sure. What makes a good kisser a good kisser? I’ve only kissed one person so I’m not the best judge for this; but I always like it when my lower lip is tugged or grazed on. How many times a year do you have a family thing? This is a little vague for me. Do you mean get-togethers? Giant-ass reunions? Movie nights? Game nights?  What are the best things to put in a smoothie? I only like one kind of smoothie and it’s sold by a local joint – and I think I’ve already shared this before but that smoothie of theirs that I like has “apple, banana, cinnamon, oats, coco sugar, chia seeds, greens, and soy milk,” according to their menu. So I guess those are the best ingredients for me, ha. Do you ever eat with your eyes closed and just focus on the taste? When I find something extremely delicious, yeah. What do you dislike most about where you live right now? For the most part I can’t wait to get out of suburban residential villages. I’d love to finally experience living in a condo in a super busy and active city. Has anyone ever given you a rose/roses? Yes.

Are you watching your weight? Not really. I’m trying to gain pounds though, if anything. I haven’t eaten much in the last two months. Have you ever become really good friends with someone you found online? I trust y’all with my life, so that’s one. Apart from Tumblr, the best friends I made were probably the people in the AJ/Punk fandom, back when I had a stan account on Twitter. I don’t remember most of their names now and we fizzled out pretty quickly when both parts of the ship left WWE, but I look back on that period with fondness. Those people made high school a lot easier for me. What makes your best friend your best friend? She doesn’t care whether I’m on top of the world with happiness or completely self-destructive and crying my eyes out; she has always been present. Do you have a drunk uncle? *rolls eyes* We don’t wanna open up that can of worms... Do you hear weird noises in your house at night? Nope. What is something you do that is generally more like something the opposite sex does? Based on personal experience and not to come off as sexist, but it’s liking wrestling. I have never met a girl in real life who has even the most remote interest in pro wrestling or can tell me who Hulk Hogan is. And the ones I’ve had discussions with - from shallow/casual to in-depth - have all been guys. Seeing girls who are into wrestling is like finding a rare Pokemon, at least in real life. What is the girliest thing you do, if you're a girl? Idk. What is the coolest tattoo you've ever seen? Probably the spork tattoo of Josh, a crew member from Good Mythical Morning. It’s just a line tattoo. Of a spork. On his arm. But he managed to make it so goddamn fascinating lmao; and apparently, as I learned just now, it has a pretty touching backstory to it too, which makes it a million times cooler. Have you ever created anything artistic that you're proud of? If so, what? I’ve never finished any of the crafts I bought. Never finished a coloring book page much less an entire coloring book, a painting, a gem painting...it’s something I’ll have to bring my butt to do one of these days. I can’t imagine how fulfilling it would feel. Do you only eat the middle of the oreo, if you eat oreos? I eat the whole thing but I honestly find Oreos too sweet and I’ve always much rather preferred Oreo-flavored stuff instead of the actual cookies.

Do you know anyone with a huge ego? My mom. If so, is there anything else about them you actually like? She’s fed me for 22 years and gave me an education, I guess. Though it’s something I appreciate more so than like. Have you ever used a racial slur, even jokingly? Probably as a dumb kid, when historical context wasn’t a thing to me yet. I still wince thinking about it, but I suppose what matters is being better and more responsible moving forward. Do you have any friends who are more like siblings to you? Angela and to some extent Andi. 

If so, what about them do you like most? They are both understanding when it comes to me - almost to a fault. What do you like on your hotdogs, if you eat hotdogs? When you say ‘hotdogs’ here, it refers to the sausages itself. The sandwich kind of hotdog isn’t super popular here. What is everyone else in your house doing right now? My siblings are still resting in their rooms; my dad is preparing for work, I think. What is the most money you've ever had at one time? Something like P10,000 or P15,000 when my mom needed me to pay for something in cash. How long do you think it would take you to run a mile? Idk, maybe 10 minutes. I won’t be fast, that’s for sure. Look down. What do you see? My legs and the pillow I’m sitting on. What is a subject that makes you uncomfortable? Right now, probably my failed relationship. I haven’t gotten to the sharing stage yet and remotely thinking about it gets my voice all shaky. What is a subject you can talk on and on about and not get sick of it? Paramore. What kind of mood were you in most of today? It’s only 7:52 AM. My only mood so far is just woke up. Has anyone ever walked in on you naked? Yeah. Because people in this damn house never knock. Tell me an inside joke you have with someone. The word ‘ariba.’ What is the worst thing someone could do to you emotionally? Break my trust. So simple but it packs a punch. What is the worst thing you've ever done to someone emotionally? Idk if I’ve ever been that aggressive. When I want to do something destructive towards someone I always end up asking what it would feel like if the action was done to me, and it’s always been enough to sway me away from doing the thing. How do you feel now about the first person you ever dated? Sad. How about the last person (your last ex)? Same person. What is the best invention ever invented? Air conditioners.

What is something that needs to be invented? Portable air conditioners. What always makes you burp? My burps come randomly. What are you doing tomorrow? It’s my last weekend before my new job, soooooooo...I’ll be bumming around for my last two days of freedom.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.22

Channeling his outer age instead of his inner, Lance let his manners go out the window somewhere after his third glass of wine. Each glass was technically two glasses, so now he had a nice pleasant buzz going on as he sat on his kitchen counter with Blue. He’d totally been a “Debby Downer”, and if he wasn’t kind of still having a slightly premature midlife crisis, he would have invited Hunk over to hang with him and Keith... Right. Like he could do that. What was he supposed to tell Hunk if he suddenly like sneezed and turned into a bat? God... What if he couldn’t jerk off anymore and what if he turned into a bat when he tried? Wait... when was the last time he tried to jerk off? Fuck... He couldn’t remember.

“Laaaaance? Are you even fucking listening?”

Keith looked grumpy, glaring at the pizza base before him. Keith wasn’t quite ready for the whole pizza from scratch experience, so Lance had grabbed a few bases much to the disgust of Hunk

“Sorry. I completely zoned out. What’s up?”

“I asked you what the hell I’m supposed to do with this thing?”

Keith had barely spread the sauce across the base. Trying to get the woodfired oven on had been the easiest part of the whole ordeal. Keith really loved setting shit on fire. Shiro was now in even deeper shit over the things he hadn’t taught his brother, and for apparently raising an anger loaf that was also a pyromaniac

“You want to put about twice the amount of sauce on the base. Then you put the cheese on. You gotta put the cheese on the bottom because it’s like the glue that sticks your toppings down”

Keith reached out, plucking the wine glass out of Lance’s hand

“No more until you’ve had dinner”

“But...”

“Nope. If I have to cook, you have to tell me what the fuck I’m doing”

Ugh. Stupid Keith. He was ruining Lance’s budding buzz. Scooching Blue away, Lance slid himself off the counter, to move behind Keith

“Now what are you doing?”

Rolling his eyes at the hunter, Lance grabbed the squeezie bottle of pizza sauce around him

“I told you. You need more sauce. Here, I’ll squeeze and you spread”

“Don’t day that again?”

“What? Squeeze and spread?”

Keith huffed at him in annoyance. This was probably the closest they’d been in their human forms. Keith was between his arms, his heart was racing, as Lance teased him by standing right behind him

“That. You’re supposed to be the mature one here”

“Ah, young grasshopper. I’m slightly, a bit, maybe, tipsy. And I may also sound like a douche right now, but Shiro should have taught you how to make pizza. How do you live in Rome, and not know how to make a damn pizza? I feel like someone in Italy just died”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Yep. But you asked what to do. Spread he sauce across the base, then add the cheese”

Squeezing the bottle too hard, the lid popped off, sauce going pretty much everywhere in the immediate radius

“You did that on purpose?! Can’t you just be normal?!”

Keith saw red, Lance stepping out of his personal space with his hands up in surrender

“I swear that wasn’t on purpose. Take your shirt off, I’ll put it in to soak”

“There’s washing machine...”

That there was. But Lance hadn’t said to strip and chuck his shirt in the wash

“I know that. That’s why I said I’d put it in to soak”

“I know how to soak a shirt. Whatever. This is pointless.. You can’t even take this seriously”

Lance’s mood began to fall. He hadn’t meant to piss Keith off. He’d honestly squeezed too hard by accident... Now he felt like a dick. Drunk Lance was a tad obnoxious

“You’re right. I can’t even control how hard I squeeze a plastic bottle, how am I supposed to teach you anything when I’m like this? Go put your shirt in to soak, I’ll clean this up”

“What... but...”

“You don’t have to pretend Keith. It’s fine. For the foreseeable future it’s your home too. You don’t have to go along with the things I say. I thought it might be fun, but I messed it up. I’ll be in my office for the rest of the night. Make sure you eat. Don’t worry about the mess... I’ll deal with it when I’ve calmed down”

*

Whatever that was, Keith was kind of sure he’d been the one who’d messed up. He’d thought Lance was genuinely mocking him when he stood behind all weirdly, and popped the bottle of pizza sauce everywhere. He’d made pizzas with Shiro before, but those had the sauce and cheese already on the base, and he wasn’t actually that keen on pizzas that seemed to swim in sauce. He wasn’t even really that mad about his shirt, considering it was black. They’d kind of had a moment where he thought things might be okay. He’d noticed Lance frowning at his wine glass, and thought dragging him out of his thoughts was the right thing to do. Now he’s gone and fucked up. Lance had fled from him.

Staring at the sauce, Keith nodded to himself. Lance might think he hated him, and he didn’t want that... not that he liked Lance, but they were stuck together and the man seemed pretty high strung, despite the way he was acting. He could totally make pizza for dinner... Alone. Unsupervised. He wasn’t some kid who knew nothing. The toaster had totally eaten his toast and was to blame went it went up in flames. He could do this. He was going to do this and Lance was going to eat pizza because fuck him and his overdramatic arse.

Scraping the sauce onto another base, Keith left a trail of mess as he figured things out. He didn’t know what herbs went on pizza, yet he didn’t have to when the herb jars came labelled and one conveniently said “Pizza Herbs”. Herbs were spilt, Blue leapt up to eat the cheese and diced ham that went the same way as the herbs. He didn’t know how Lance felt about garlic, but a few cloves wound up on both their pizzas all the same. Yeah. He could totally do this. His skill left much to be desired, but Keith was quietly proud as he slid both pizzas into the oven... both way too loaded, with toppings that’d slid into the middle as he moved them.

Waiting until it looked done, Keith had nothing else to do but play with Blue. She was cute, and she didn’t seem to have the same attitude as her owner. Licking sauce off her paw, her little tongue poked out as Keith interrupted her grooming by wiping his hand over the crumbs on the bench, knocking some onto the floor in his attempt to “clean up”. Maybe he should get a pet? Something to wait for him when he got home... He wouldn’t mind a cat like Blue, secretly feeling black cats were the best despite what people might say with their silly superstitions. Distracted by Blue and the crumbs, Keith swore as he smelt something burning, Blue jumping off the counter and running out the kitchen as if he’d insulted everything she’d held dear by semi-yelling “fuck!”.

The pizzas weren’t cremated. Slightly black around the edges, with the cheese in the middle kind of weirdly unmelted but golden enough to pass as done. He didn’t need Lance to tell him what to do. He’d done it all by himself, like the 26 year old man he was. Now all he had to do was plate up... after he reclaimed his pizzas from the oven. Shiro always did them in a normal oven, pulling the pizza out by the side of the crust, having pushed them further back, Keith didn’t fancy getting burned on the flat metal trays built into the wood oven. His go to were tongs... succeeding in ripping the crust, meaning he had to try pull them out by hand... burning his fingertips as he did. That didn’t matter. He’d proved Lance wrong by creating two edible pizzas and he was pretty damn proud. Keith wanted to try out his new camera to photograph his kitchen triumph, but he also wanted to wait until after dinner when he could crash out on the lounge and explore its features properly...

Keith came to a stop, realising what he’d been thinking. He was... first he called this place “home”, now he was making plans to spend the evening binging horror movies as he played with his camera... He was far too comfortable here... What would Lance think if he made himself at home? Would be happy? Or would he be interrupting Lance’s night by taking over the TV? Lance wasn’t in a great place... Crap. What if he’d turned back into a bat? Would he be mad if Keith ate his pizza? Maybe if he cut them up and served them on two plates in the living room, it wouldn’t be weird for Keith to eat Lance’s share? If he was a bat, he could sit on the coffee table and nibble around the edges... Shit... The hunter’s hand itched to grab his phone out so he could call Shiro for help... Buuuuut... Shiro would be cranky if he called him over the best way to casually rub Lance’s face in the fact he’d made dinner. His brother might not even believe he’d been the one who cooked... Fuck. Okay. He could do this. It was pizza night with Shiro, only Lance was Shiro, and he wasn’t that great of a stand in... but the principle of the night was the same. Beer, pizza, horror movies...

*

Setting up things in the living room, Keith pulled up Netflix, leaving the remote conveniently close. He’d moved Lance’s glass of red wine and blood next to one of the pizzas, and uncapped his beer beside his own. Trying to cut through the slices with the pizza cutter hadn’t worked, just like those stupid wheels never worked the other hundred times he’d tried. Running his fingers through his hair, he felt king of nervous. He wanted to do a nice thing, kind of... Plus he hadn’t destroyed Lance’s kitchen in the process, so that definitely earned him extra brownie points. Now he just had to disturb Lance and hope he wasn’t about to be attacked for doing so.

Knocking on Lance’s office door, the vampire didn’t even acknowledge his presence. Slightly miffed that Lance was being so petty, he threw it open and succeeding in scare the crap out of him. Leaning back in his chair, Lance had some weird green goo covering his face, his ears covered with headphones... or rather, that’d been the way it’d been before he’d scared Lance badly enough he’d fallen out of his chair

“Jesus! What the hell, man?!”

Stifling a laugh, Keith sucked in his lips, Lance collecting himself up as he slid his headphones down. It was time to drop that bomb

“I made dinner”

Lance pursed his lips, brow wrinkled as he paused pushing himself up

“You should come grab something to eat. We’re having dinner in front of the TV”

Lance tilted his head to the left. The position he was in didn’t look comfortable

“You made dinner?”

“You don’t need to sound so shocked”

“But I messed things up”

“Not everything revolves around your actions. Whatever. You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to”

“What? No. Dude. I mean... I didn’t think... You cooked?”

Lance didn’t seem as impressed as Keith had hoped, he seemed more dubious over the quality of the food. Now Keith felt kind of annoyed he’d mentally made a big deal of it

“Pizza, beer, and movies... Shiro and I tried to do it when we could”

“You and Shiro cooked?”

Keith wished he had something he could throw at Lance. He didn’t need to sound so damn shocked. Cross his arms, the hunter’s voice held the strong tone of a pout

“We’re not useless. It’s not that hard to put some stuff on a pizza and bake it. If you’re going to keep making a deal of it, then you can make your own dinner”

“I didn’t say you were useless. I’m surprised seeing I was a total dick”

“You weren’t a dick. I thought you were making fun of me until I remembered that you can’t actually control your strength that well at the moment, not that the wine helped. I’m heading back to the living room, you do whatever you want”

“Dude, I’m totally there. Give me a tick to wash this stuff off, then I’ll be all good to go”

That right there was why he couldn’t keep up with Lance. That sudden change in upward mood wasn’t something he was used to. Most hunters had seen too much shit to be that happy, ever. Now his whole damn face was lit up, like Keith had given him some great gift. Fucked if Keith knew what it was meant to be, and fucked if he was going to waste brain power figuring it out.

Heading back to the living room, Keith flopped down on the sofa with a satisfied groan. Blue watching it his every move judgmentally from her spot on the tv cabinet as Keith forced himself up to retrieve his pizza and his beer, slumping back then noticing the remote laying on the table, the bastard out of reach. Keith rubbed at his face with his right hand, before leaning forward again to snag the remote. There wasn’t anything in particular he had in mind, more after background noise so fill in the gaps when Lance clammed up. Keith could see it now. He’d ask, Lance would say “after dinner”, then the chance to talk would slip away. Sliding out a piece of ham, Blue came flying, straight up into Keith’s lap with both paws on his leg as she craned upwards for the tasty treat

“Don’t tell you father”

“Don’t tell me what? Blue, are you conning food out again?”

Blue was on her third tiny square of ham as Lance shuffled in, he’d changed into his pyjamas, slippers scuffing on the wooden floor

“What was that?”

“I heard you telling her not to tell”

“Oh. She’s allowed ham, isn’t she?”

Keith couldn’t remember if it was cats or dogs who weren’t supposed to have ham

“Just a little bit. Wow, it looks good”

Keith went with the topic change, it was best to let Lance think he had his guard down

“Of course it does, I made it myself”

“You must have had a great teacher. What are we watching?”

“I was thinking something horror. Shiro and I like to point out everything they got wrong”

“Now you sound like Pidge. We only watch the b-grade stuff because Hunk gets scared”

Lance sidestepped his way between Keith and the coffee table, Keith realising he hadn’t put much space between them as he’d given his new camera a whole cushion space to itself

“Does Hunk gets scared often?”

“He has a healthy fear of everything that he needs to. He’s the biggest ball of warm feels in existence”

Lance sat himself down carefully, avoiding dropping down and causing Keith’s pizza to slide

“No one can be that nice”

“Hunk is. He would have come home tonight with me if I’d let him. He’s like chronically stuck in care bear mode. No one can be mad at Hunk, it’s like physically impossible”

Keith didn’t buy it. Everyone had that point they reached when all that was left was anger

“There had to be a time he got mad...”

Lance nodded as he leaned forward to grab his plate of pizza and what was left of his wine

“Yeah. But never without good reason, and he always faces his fears. He’s not too bad with spooky movies, but when you get into in the TV shows, he gets jumpy. Out of respect, we don’t watch a lot of squeamish things, you know, those movies they make filled with bloody scenes purely to have bloody scenes. I have so much respect for him”

Lance truly loved his friends. Keith could hear it in his words as plainly as he could see it on his face

“And Pidge?”

“She’d set the world on fire with a smile if you messed with her or anyone she loved. She’s fierce, but amazing. She’s like a super hacker, and she’s never met a piece of tech she hasn’t been able to make her bitch”

It must be nice to have friends like that. Friends that had your back for no reason other than the fact you were friends. Keith couldn’t say he knew that feeling, always feeling on the outside as everyone else moved on without him. He’d worked with other hunters, and had classes and training with other hunters, yet still felt insignificant. It scared him to think about what they’d say about him.

Lance settled back, elbowing him playfully as he did

“This really does look good. I didn’t mean to get sauce everywhere. I kind of lost it for a bit when I got back to my office. Now, if we’re watching some bad horror movie, please don’t pick anything with vampires. They always get it wrong”

“You’re not bloodsucking monsters that turn to ash in the sun?”

“Nope. Some of us are. I don’t”

Keith raised an eyebrow

“You don’t, what?”

“Turn into ash. I can see my reflection. I think maybe a stake to heart might kill me off, but I’m not 100 percent sure”

“You can walk around in the sun?”

“I can sun bake and everything. Plus, no sparkles bitches”

God’s love was found in the light. Vampires were supposed to be turn to dust because God had turned his back on them. Keith was a little dubious over the whole thing, but exorcists did exist, so there had to be something there

“I thought you’d love to be all sparkly”

“Nah. It’d draw too much attention. Younger me, maybe. Current me, not so much”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m old and cranky. I want to live as normally as possible. I don’t want to turn into a damn disco ball when all I want to do is enjoy a little bit of sun”

This guy had to be an idiot. Keith forcing himself not to gape. He wanted information on vampires, and now Lance had turned off his filter completely

“What else did they get wrong?”

“I firmly believed the whole “bat thing” was wrong until I went and turned into one. Garlic doesn’t really do much. I can eat human foods, but after about half an hour I need to use the bathroom. Blood... bags are good. I mean, I prefer them over anything fresh. As far as I know we don’t survive being burned to death, I know there’s a myth about turning into a bat and grave soil, but I’ve never tried it. Wounds we give ourselves sometimes take much longer to heal than something like being stabbed. Being immortal sucks arse. They got the rage and ego bit right. Silver’s not terrible. I show up on camera... I have super human senses, and can move faster than you’d think... I don’t know. I don’t think I want to know either”

Keith did. He wanted to know everything when it came to a human who’d been turned. He wanted to understand what Adam had been through in his final hours

“I do”

Lance raised his eyebrow at him, Keith wondering he’d been sprung for pushing him to talk

“I think you’d know more about being a vampire than I would. I was never one for clans and covens. I’ve met other vampires and honestly, they scared me. The first time I saw a vampire feed on a human pet, I threw up. The way they treated people... I couldn’t do it. Vampires have egos. Feeding that ego is a dangerous game. I know I’m probably not the only one who’s trying to live as normally as possible, but it makes it hard to reach out to anyone when they’re mostly douches. Werewolves are kind of the same, except it’s all about how strong they are. There’s pack leaders, but that’s only because that’s a human concept. There’s no alpha leader, instead there’s a pack leader. Some dick that always thinks they’re the greatest thing since the invention of the wheel. It’s fucked up and enough to drive you mad if you spend too long in that world”

Krolia had spent years in that world. Keith hadn’t even known what a legacy was when Shiro showed up in his life. He’d been a burden all his life since the death of his father. Shiro had opened a whole new world to him, had given him a home and a purpose to exist. They might not be biological brothers, but being biologically related to someone didn’t necessarily make them family. Family was something you built, sometimes from absolutely nothing at all. He didn’t know how to talk to his mother any more than he knew how to talk to Lance. For Krolia her duty always came first...

“Can I ask you something?”

“I thought we were past that”

“How did you get turned?”

Lance sighed heavily

“That’s not a great topic of conversation”

“I imagine it’s not... but...”

“You want to understand what happened to Adam. What he went through. I can’t tell you that. Only that he’s in a better place”

“He’s dead”

Nothing happened why you died... Keith couldn’t say he was convinced over this heaven and hell stuff...

“I’d rather be dead than risking the lives of those I love. Turning... it brings up a lot of memories that won’t leave me alone. Some humans take the turn willingly and I can’t for the life of me think why. Maybe if they had a kind sire, and you know, they had like absolutely no choice and I don’t know... but... it’s hard to talk about. Ten out of Ten would not recommend. I guess that makes me like that 1 dentist that never recommends shit”

Keith groaned deeply, dropping his head back and staring at Lance

“Why do you always do that? Deflect like that to humour?”

“Because some things are so fucked up thay if you don’t laugh you’re gonna fucking cry. It’s my unhealthy coping mechanism, like some people have smoking”

“It’s annoying. It makes it hard to like you”

Lance beamed at him, Keith had the feeling he was being mocked again

“Aw man, you like me!”

“Go fuck yourself”

“Eh, too much like effort. Who needs sex when you’ve got pizza. Thanks for this. I think I needed it”

“You’re welcome, but you can still go fuck yourself”

Lance had the nerve to wink at him

“Only if you go first”

Keith blushed red, spluttering some kind of loud squeak before promptly shutting up. Lance could suck his metaphorical dick.

[vore-scientist]

Poof (safe/soft platonic gt vore fluff)

A (mini) Tale of the Mystic Woods

A short story featuring the Half-Giant Wizard Yonah and his student the Princess Sophia! Both are my OCs and they are both adults! Content Warnings: bit of a silly em-eto (ish) moment. not any real vomit tho. ---- Knuckles white, Sophia dug her nails into Yonah’s fingers as he readjusted his position for what felt like the 100th time in the last 20 minutes. This time he had gone from laying on his stomach to laying on his back. Sophia wasn’t worried he was going to drop her, He had picked up Her up from the crook of his arm in a secure grip. And even if he did, she would merely fall onto the soft bed. But instinct screamed at her nerves that she was very high up! Hold tight! The day had been a busy one. Not a necessarily a bad one. Just. Busy. First, patrolling the woods had taken twice as long. The King had Yonah investigate several disturbances of some sort. For one thing they had to coordinate the forest shifting locations to within Yonah’s limited range of movement. For another thing, brought near “enough” didn’t necessarily mean appearing just past the next tree. Sometimes it meant a few kilometers back the way they came. And then there was the “disturbances” themselves. Sophia couldn’t understand why they had to deal with trees complaining of itchy roots. Or deliver rations to a gnome community that had their farms ravaged by an unfortunate number of gophers. Or track down the missing foals for a herd of moon-dancing deer. Turns out there was a poacher! And he had not just taken a few foals from one herd. But taken all the foals from what was now three herds. This wasn’t some random hunter.

At least that was fun. Tracking him down. It wasn’t fun to discover the fate of the first two groups of foals he had taken. But they managed to save the third. The fun part was dealing with the poacher himself. 

He got a nice little time out in Yonah’s gut before being handed over to a ranger who had been following them. He was lucky the ranger intervened as Yonah and Sophia had been deliberating on Whether or not to kill the bastard for his crimes against the forest. And culling Moon-dance Foals was not one that deserve mercy. They had gone back and forth dramatically about if he deserved it, and how much Yonah wanted to eat him, if Yonah was ok with allowing scum like him inside his body. All while the poacher was on the edge of fainting until the ranger showed up and decided for them. The ranger did not enjoy watching The Giant Wizard swallow the poacher alive, even knowing he was gonna be brought back up before he died. But Sophia loved watching the ranger squirm in their armor as Yonah, with wicked glee, enjoyed his snack. Anyways. All These things were all unrelated as far as Sophia could tell, but the way Ben talked about them made them sound connected! Also none seemed worth the hassle of moving the forest just so she and Yonah could deal with these problems. She liked helping but this all seemed like Mystic Ranger work! in fact a ranger DID show up! But they’d done the bulk of the work . And once they returned home Yonah had her attempt a rather involved potion. Maintaining delicate alchemical balances, recalling the proper spell verses while imbuing the proper words and materials with magic, and keeping track of temperature and time, all at once, has never been Sophia’s strong suit. It wasn’t anyone’s strong suit really. Potion making was one of the most difficult of the arcane sciences. It had been extremely stressful. Sophia barely avoided a magical-metldown a few times. What frustrated her most was Yonah refused to tell her what the potion was for! And she since she failed to make it she still didn’t know. It left the pair exhausted and so they unanimously decided to turn in early. Now she lay on his chest; a hand acting as a blanket. She loved this spot and imagined this was what it felt like to lay on a whale as it rested at sea. Rising and falling with wave like breaths. Drifting along the current and off to sleep. Several feet beneath her beat the giant’s heart, like a wrongly entombed person frantically trying to get someone, anyone’s attention. Hold on. She opened her eyes and looked to Yonah’s face. He was staring at the ceiling. “Dude is everything alright?” Rising quickly, the surface she lay on rumbled as Yonah exhaled a wordless portamento. “Worried about your lecture on Wednesday*? It’s gonna be fine, it’s not like you haven’t done this dozens of times! I thought you liked teaching?” (*Note: I haven’t come up with fantasy names for the days of the week!!! Weeks are also 8 days!!) This time after taking an even bigger breath and placing his hands over his face, he spoke. “I do like it! I do. But I still have to be cuffed. Which sucks 7 foot flying blue ass.” “It’s only for two days right? And they only make you shrink while in the school buildings. You’ve handled worse.” she thought some reassuring praise might help but it didn’t work. “Says the not-magical being who has never been cuffed” he sat up, catching Sophia as she slid down his chest. She was about to apologize when hot air blew around her and Yonah took another breath. “It’s not really that. Not completely. It’s… Being there... chained up like that.” She knew what he meant. As the chains drained him magic and life force he looked like he could snap at any moment, just barley held in check by the Enchanted cuffs.  “I look like a fucking criminal! Or Like a semi-tamed magical beast from the King’s menagerie all dressed up and told to put on a show! It’s humiliating!” “My father doesn’t have-“ but Yonah glared at her. He continued. “I can barely look at these new students, and when I do it’s either met with fear or dismissal. The fear is ok. I’d rather they like me, they have in the past! But young wizards need to be more scared of things, just in general.” “It’s the dismissal which is infuriating. As if I’m some sort of monster, and so the words out of my mouth are worthless!”

The smell of a dying campfire started to reach Sophia’s nose. “Especially since it’s no small expense to bring you there. Just the paperwork alone!” she remarked. “EXACTLY!” he nodded, the smell did not go away, “Not to mention there are those professors that do not hide their disdain for me. I think they have been priming the students before I arrive. Motherfuckers! Most of them still think I shouldn’t have been allowed to graduate and become a wizard and why!?” He did not let Sophia ask ‘why?’ as his eyes flared up with fire.   “Because I’m half-firewitch!” crackling and spewing smoke, the roots of his hair became glowing coals. “They think that made it easier for me! And since I didn’t work as hard I can’t possibly understand magic as deeply as a “proper” wizard! As if there aren’t students with fey ancestry to whom magic comes easier! But are they accused of cheating? Does anyone think they can’t be wizards?! No! They are congratulated for being blessed with magical talent!” Fuming he drew breath, “and I worked just as hard as any-“ “You should eat them,” Sophia suggested and Yonah froze in his tirade. Through the fire Sophia could tell he was looking down at her, sitting calmly in his hand, as he processed her remark.   Then he smiled. Then he laughed. His eyes and hair extinguishing. The burning aura of Yonah’s anger faded as he lay back down. Sophia sitting on his chest once more, letting Yonah stroke her gently. Even without looking he could deftly massage her with delicate rubs and pinches. It was nice. A bubbling, gurgling came from just behind Sophia and Yonah lifted his head. He had a small guilty smile and his face a bit flushed. “Ah” Sophia said with a raised eyebrow, “No wonder you’re cranky.” “No- I’m cranky for the reasons I already said. And I’m a firewitch, so I’m always cranky! But... I am a little hungry too.” Rolling her eyes Sophia stood up and walked to his face. Yonah gave her a toothy grin as she leaned on his nose. Then he stuck his tongue out and licked her midsection, pulling a bit at her nightgown. She rolled her eyes again, giggling as Yonah’s tongue continued to tickle her side. “Fine, you stupid glutton. It can be one of those nights.” Sliding off his nose she fell onto his tongue which hung over his lips, and let him draw her into his mouth. He didn’t swallow her right away. Right now he licked at the princess. Sliding his tongue greedily And friendily over her bare arms. Even if clothing didn’t block the flavor of smallfolk that much, exposed skin still tasted the best! And so sensitive was his tongue that he would tell she was smiling as he drew it across her face. That and she chuckled. And she reciprocated by running her hands all over his mouth, spreading her flavor all around! Mostly focusing on his tongue since that was what tasted her, but also pushed out against his cheeks with palms and elbows. He would put a finger to them to push back. Her torso was very quickly soaked in drool. Yonah certainly liked the taste of human. And as many times as he’d eaten her, he didn’t seem to get bored with her flavor. Not even a little. But eventually his stomach grumbled again. Jealous that his mouth was getting all of Sophia’s attention. And he sat up, tipped his head back, and gently swallowed as the body slid to the back of his throat. As her feet slipped past his collar with a mighty *GULP*,  her outstretched arms entered his stomach. Soon followed by the rest of her. And he lay down, pulling up a blanket but keeping a hand over his stomach to rub at his occupant. Sophia may be a small human but she managed to be very filling. He licked his lips of the lingering flavor. Letting her movements lull him a bit. Oh she was always such a great treat! And healthier than getting a snack he could actually digest- Eyes wide and hand pressed into his gut he snapped out of his stupor. Now his heart really threatened to burst from his chest. “SOPHIA!” He hissed, sitting up “YOUR CURSE!” There was a small amount of movement from under his hand. “Oh! You finally noticed?” her voice full of mischief.  That was… not the reaction he had expected. If she noticed he had forgotten… then… “OH NO! Don’t you fucking dare!! I’m just gonna spit you up then we can-“ But it was too late. She was moving again and he heard her speak the couplet. ‘Bloated’ would be an understatement for what he felt as his middle swelled painfully before he leaned over and purple dust spewed out of his mouth and nose like water from a fire hydrant. As he vomited lavender sparkles he could hear Sophia losing her mind, the lighting laughter cutting through the thunder in his ears. A few gulps of air was all he managed between expulsions until the font of glitter turned into puffs accompanied by small burps. He clutched at his highly active midsection containing the cackling princess as he lay back down. Purple clouds tricking out of his mouth. “See, no need to worry!” came Sophia’s singsong voice from his sore gut. All he managed to say was a long “oog” before l he hiccuped And burped again, another large poof of smoke coming up. There wasn’t anything he could do besides stare at his ceiling. If there was anything up there he couldn’t see it; he didn’t have his glasses on. Still, he managed to reach at his night stand and flip the alarm clock. *hic* glitter… *hic!* more glitter *HIC!* still more glitter!! “Did you *HIC!* ARGH!” He couldn’t get his breath back for a complete sentences “do thi- *HIC!* on purpo*HIC*” fucking hell! How much sparkling dust was still inside him?! It was very fortunate that Sophia did not have to breathe as glass, for she certainly would have suffocated on the same purple sparkling dust that Yonah was currently expelling from his body. The massive amount of dust produced by the activation of her curse. Which is why she had hoped to get him to eat her without casting it. He was so good at remembering but tonight he was tired, and she had helped by giving him the signal to swallow without first removing herself from his mouth. She was also fortunate that the momentary increased pressure did nothing to her solid Glass body. Had she still been made of flesh… who knows! But it wouldn’t have been good! The air in Yonah’s stomach was still saturated with glitter but it didn’t bother Sophia one iota! I would eventually disappear. It was just a magical manifestation after all. It would still be several more minutes.  She kneaded her surroundings like a cat and got a great big sigh in response. A vibrating moan echoed around her as she stroked and pushed at the soft flesh. And then she was jolted by another hiccup. “You’re a little shi- *HIC*” more giggles from his middle. And glitter. “Just go to sleep,” Sophia cooed And her surroundings squished even more. Yonah just groaned and and put and arm around his stomach, pressing on the solid mass of Sophia. The stroking did feel very nice. He closed his eyes. Eventually his stomach and diaphragm calmed down. Helped by Sophia’s massaging. Soon the rubbing, and his general fullness, lulled him to sleep. The frantic pulse finally slowed around her as her friend drifted off to dreamland, happy and content with her filling and petting his belly. and it reciprocated by squishing her, the muscles shoving her in a rolling motion, the pulse adding another layer to the rhythm of Yonah’s body. Again it was like she was in a hammock in a boat in the open ocean. Well less in the boat and more hanging off of it, as she sat in warm fluids. She knew the stomach was doing it’s best to soften her up, break her down, and move her along in the giant’s digestive tract. But it was a futile attempt. And thus warm and safe, Sophia was rocked to sleep with the now gently thundering beat of the heart above her. [FIN] [Thanks for reading! IF YOU LIKE THIS PLEASE REBLOG! Or message me telling me what you think! I crave feedback! For more mystic woods go to vore-scientist.tumblr.com/tagged/+mystic+woods+story or search ‘mystic woods story’]

[isotuan]

Stupid (Yoongi/Reader Fluff)

Summary: It’s 2:45 am and Min Yoongi’s at your door. Stupid.

(( Note: Lol, hey guys... Guess who’s not dead. *Me (I think)* Sorry I went on hiatus out of nowhere :/ Can’t say that I’m back officially because like the last time I said that I was gone three months after (hehe). So I’m semi back I guess? I’ve been missing those active Tumblr days so much, I wish I can be on more, idk what will happen in the future but I’ll try my best to post more scenarios and just overall be more active :) HOPEFULLY SMH—Also I know nothing about piano/music writing, I apologize for any mistakes and please please listen to the song it’s really pretty ))

“Literally, what the hell.”

You stared at your best friend, completely dumbfounded by the fact that you were even staring at him considering that it was pitch black and cold as shit out. In other words, it was 2:45 in the morning and no other than Min Yoongi was standing there right in front of you, hands stuffed deep into his large coat along with a fluffy scarf wrapped countless times around his head, hot air from his mouth puffing out into the frozen winter air. 

Before you could utter another word, Yoongi was already shuffling into your apartment and settling down on the couch, murmuring some incoherent words into his scarf which covered half of his face. 

You huffed as you kicked the door shut and turned towards your friend with arm crossed over your chest and a glare that shot right at him, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“Me?” Yoongi tried to turn to you as he spoke but the barrier of wool proved the task impossible. He attempted to push the wall around his face down at which also proved to be impossible. You had to walk over and unwrapped the damn thing for him. When the gray knit was out of the way, it was then that you could see Yoongi’s tinted red face fully as he grinned slightly, “I’m here to hang.”

“‘To hang?’” To repeated the words you could not believe just came out of him. “You came here ‘to hang?’” 

“That’s what I said.”

“Yoongi,” you reached for you phone that was on the coffee table and turned the illuminated screen towards him. 

“Nice lock screen,” he simply commented and you wanted to knock him out right that second but you restrained yourself from doing so, instead you took a deep breath in and out before calmly telling him, “I'm going to bed, lock the door on the way out.”

“Fine, fine,” he spoke as you were just about to head back into your bedroom. “I’ll admit it’s late as shit and....”

“And…?” You stood to wait for him to continue,

“And that you get cranky as fuck when someone interrupts your sleep.”

With that, you spun back around not forgetting to give the man one last glare worth of ‘fuck you.’ You knew that Yoongi was a dick and you’d most definitely gotten more that used to it by now. But seriously. What. A. Dick.

Just as you were about to turn the knob of your bedroom, Yoongi’s annoying voice started once more, “I’ll make you food.”

“You suck at cooking,” you couldn’t help but bring up the fact. When you said that, you meant the words ‘Yoongi’ and ‘cooking’ do not belong in the same world.

“I’m better than you.” You couldn't rebuttal then, ‘Y/N’ and ‘cooking’ didn’t belong in the same universe. “I know you didn’t eat dinner.”

“How—”

“You had an all-nighter last night because of that test you had, you didn’t text me back when I texted you at five, meaning that sleep deprivation had already gotten the best of you by then. But you usually eat dinner at six-thirty; you haven’t eaten.” 

You chewed the insides of your cheek, hating the how much Yoongi knew about you, he would use everything against you. 

“You’re a heavy sleeper, but can’t go back to sleep for another six hours once you do wake up,” he looked up at you, smug. “And you’re here, awake.”

Literally everything.

“And if you do the math correctly, which you can’t because you suck at math,” he counted his fingers, oh so irritatingly. “You need my food to go into food coma or else you’re sleeping schedule will be all the way fucked up again.”

“I hate you,” you through your clenched teeth.

“Admit it, stupid,” he chuckled lowly, “You need me.”

He got up from his spot on the couch and stripped himself of his coat, leaving him with his a black turtle. “Now come along, I’ll make you some mediocre food,” he disappeared into the kitchen.

You couldn’t say that hated Min Yoongi most because there you were sat on the kitchen countertop, watching your ‘best friend’ cook at three in the morning—because hated the fact that you actually agreed to this ten times more. He opened just about every cupboard you have before gathering what seemed to be just about everything you owned in that kitchen: instant ramen, cheese, ham, and a wrinkly stalk of green onion. 

“Really?” He gave you a look.

“Really what?

“Remind me to drag you to the grocery store some point this week because what the hell have you even been eating this entire time?”

“Ooh! Take out from that one Chinese place I’ve been telling you about! Their food is the best, a little greasy, but so fucking good, I swear.”

He looked at you with distaste.

“What?”

He didn’t answer, only proceeded to turn the stove before placing a pot full of water on it. Once the water boiling, he ripped the pack of ramen and plopped in the brick of noodle, setting the seasoning pack and dried veggies to the side. And you stared at him as he cut the green onion with scissors (because you didn’t have an actual knife).

“Why ramen?” You asked him.

“Is that even a real question?” he asked with looking up but you could tell he was rolling his eyes. 

You huffed, “My face is going to get so bloated.”

“Y/N, your cheeks had been chubby since high school,” he narrowed his eyes at you. 

“That’s exactly my point,” you made a face. “My face is already naturally bloated, if I eat sodium at this time of night I’ll become a bobble head by dawn."

Yoongi stayed quiet for a bit before mumbling something incoherent under his breath at which you had asked him several times after to repeat but was ultimately denied with a ‘fuck off, stupid.’

He finished the ramen and the two of you went into your bedroom here you threatened to murder the man if he even gets a single spot on your white sheet. You put on a cheesy rom-com and laughed away as you devoured the bowl of sodium with Yoongi lying down on his stomach facing away from the tv screen because ‘rom-com's are stupid.’ It was half way through the movie that you finally finished bowl at which you asked your friend, with eyes still glued on to the screen, “Weren’t you going to have ramen? We were supposed to share.”

“Share my ass,” he scoffed. “You inhaled the entire thing already and you just asking me that now?”

“I’m sorry, I guess I was hungrier than expected. I can make you another bowl—” you said as you began to prop yourself up but was stopped by Yoongi's hand dragging you back down.

“Let’s not burn the building down today,” he said and you rolled your eyes.

You lay back down on the bed, this time tucking yourself into the warm sheets. You watched the movie for a bit longer but ultimately decided that Yoongi was more interesting than the rom-com that ending had eventually become predictable. You turned to your side and watched his scribble stuff down into his notebook.

“What are you working on?” You asked him.

“This and that,” he only murmured, barely stripping away any attention from the paper.  You studied Yoongi for a second and smiled. There were only two things Yoongi was really good at doing: one, be a total dick (mostly to you but it's a mutual thing, either way, you didn't mind at times) and, two, writing music. You'd known him for so long and from the very start, you had adored how focused Yoongi would become when he was working on his music. 'It's more than a passion' you remembered him saying once and you more than believed him. When he would write, he didn’t allow people to listen to his work until he was at least part satisfied with it, which would take a while because he was also a perfectionist. However when he turned to you and asked, you were in serious shock—

“Can you look at this?”

“I mean—” you paused for a second, studying his face to see if he was shitting around or not.

Not.

“Uh, sure.”

He handed you the notebook and the what was on it took you by surprise, for the second time that night.

“Piano?”

Yoongi nodded. 

Out of eight whole years of knowing each other, Yoongi had most rarely written piano songs, it had always been rap of some sort. The piano was more your thing being that you’d played it ever since you were a kid. It was your favorite hobby, still is. You could understand why he wanted you to see it. 

You studied the chords and melody scribbled messily onto the page carefully, taking your time to interpret and play the song out in your head. Even if you were not actually listening to it, what you were seeing in front of you was indescribable. ‘Beautiful’ wouldn’t bring it close to justice. 

—Listen: วัชราวลี - ทราย—

“Wow,” you couldn't help but say. “That was so— When did you learn how to write?”

“I learned at some point.” 

"Oh my god, Yoongi," You say, gawking endlessly at the page. You looked at it a bit more, genuinely blown away by each and every note, and finally noticed something. "This is... Who is it for?"

"No one in particular," he replied and quickly snatched the notebook away at which you groaned at its absence. 

“Yah,” you moaned. “You’re so greedy.”

“Of my own notebook?”

“Fucker,” you huffed when Yoongi wasn’t showing any sign of giving up you slumped back down onto the bed and turned your back towards him as you mumbled ugly things into the pillow in your arms. Stupid. Food coma, however, was quick to kick in because the moment you lay back down and started calling Yoongi call kinds of names instead of his own, you could feel your eyelids dip further and further down. You fell asleep as quick as that, but at least that dick of a friend deserved that earful. Stupid...

Yoongi’s POV

Stupid.

As if I couldn’t hear you. Yoongi shook his head as he listened to Y/N murmur all sort of things to sleep, quickly snoring away after her little rant. 

“How the hell does she fall asleep that fast,” Yoongi commented as he watched her body rise and fall in perfect sync with her loud ass snores, just like she had always been doing since freshman year of high school... Yoongi’s eyes remained on Y/N for while, he felt a sharp pang within him at which he quickly brushed off before ultimately going back to staring at his music sheet.

...

Yoongi gripped his pencil tightly and looked back at you once again.

“It was for you, stupid.”

(( A cute lil scenario for lil Yoongs. If you don’t mind dropping by my inbox, please leave a feedback. It’s been while idk how my writing has gone :// Most of all, I hope you all enjoyed <3 ))

CHECK OUT NUTRITION (YOONGI X READER FLUFF/CRACK) FOR A FOLLOW UP OF STUPID.

[fyeahjamesandlily]

on the seventh day of christmas

an: this fic is for @chelseaapproved. hi, chelsea! merry christmas!! sorry i broke some of the rules in your prompt. i hope you like it anyway! it’s been a while since i wrote any pre-dating!hogwarts!jily, and getting back in that stage of their relationship made me feel super nostalgic. i hope you have as happy a christmas as james had in the last part of this fic. and may 2017 be kind and generous to you as well! ♡

1971. The box of chocolate frogs hits her in the back of the head. In James’s defense, he’s in a hurry. He has to strategically sort and un-tag his pile of presents, because he got up at godawful o'clock to Sirius Black’s really pathetic pile (just one gift, if you’d believe it, a badly wrapped lump from some bloke named “Reg”), and he has to make the piles look more or less innocently even before his favourite dorm mate (so far) wakes up.

He’s pretty sure it’s going to work. The chocolate frogs, that is. Never mind that he hit her and everything. He’s seen her try to trade her Merlin card for a Bowman Wright with a Hufflepuff fourth year (like anyone’s going to trade Wright for Merlin), and the cards in the box are, like, really limited edition.

Surely that’d stop her crying, right?

Who cries on Christmas Day anyway?

The culprit is already dashing back up to the boys’ dorms in a flurry of baggy pajamas, but there is no mistaking that hair. Lily scowls. But that’s it. She takes three deep breaths to recompose herself, which isn’t easy, ‘cause there wasn’t much composure around before to begin with. Still, she’s long decided that that boy isn’t worth anything from her.

She returns her eyes to her sister’s letter, but gets distracted.

On the floor is a six-box pack of chocolate frog cards. In spite of herself, she picks it up, and her eleven-year old heart skips at the list of cards included in the pack.

Bowman Wright.

She stares at the spot where she last saw him—him, James Potter—and lets herself willingly name him in her head for once.

1972. Sirius is pretty sure James is pissed about something. With a dramatic sigh he rotates the plate between them, the bigger slice of the treacle tart moving in turn back to James’s side. “Fine, you can have it.”

James looks up. He tries to smooth his face out, but it’s like trying to fix a badly crumpled essay without a wand. “Huh?”

“What’s wrong?” He feels weird asking, of course. But if he doesn’t say anything, then James is going to stay cranky, which will make him, Sirius, also cranky. And no one’s supposed to be cranky on Christmas. Not even Sirius Black.

James takes his fork and digs in without preamble. Sirius would feel offended at this lack of hesitation, but it’s the least of his concerns at the moment.

“So what is it?” he prods.

“Nothing,” says James with food in his mouth.

Sirius starts tugging at the edge of the plate.

“Hey,” protests James.

“Just tell me.”

“It’s weird.”

“You’re weirder.”

James drops his gaze, pulls the plate gruffly back to him, and stabs at another spoonful. “Promise me you won’t laugh.”

There’s a ninety per cent chance he would, just based on how James is acting, but Sirius perseveres to keep a straight face and nods all the same.

“It’s weird…”

“Yes, you’ve mentioned,” mutters Sirius.

“—and embarrassing, and completely unreasonable.”

“Got it.” Sirius tentatively scrapes a piece of the tart with his own fork, and it’s a testament to James’s level of vexation that he doesn’t even comment on this.

“But I just… thought…” (Sirius could have eaten the whole thing in the time James took to finish this sentence.) “…She’d be staying.”

Sirius blinks. “What?”

“I saw her name on the list.”

“You what whose what on the what?”

James rolls his eyes. Seemingly roused from whatever bizarre mood he was in, he bats Sirius’s fork away with his. “Pay attention, will you?”

“I am paying attention, and I’m not understanding anything.”

James leans in. Dropping his voice, he says, “Evans, of course.”

Sirius stares at him. After some time, he inclines his head, incredulous. “As in Lily Evans?”

“Keep it down!”

“James, we’re the only ones here.”

“Someone could be listening!”

“I barely understand what you’re saying, and I’m… me. I doubt this information would be of any importance to anyone.” He pauses. “And that counts me, by the way. This isn’t—this doesn’t make sense to me.”

“I just thought it would be fun, s'all.”

Sirius frowns. “She barely talks to you.”

“She did last week!”

“Yeah, to tell you your hair sucked.”

“It didn’t suck.”

Sirius nods loyally. “I know, mate, I know.”

“I don’t know…” His face is half-red now. “I just kind of…”

Sirius doesn’t want to say it. Ask it. He keeps quiet.

To his relief, James starts shaking his head. He returns to his treacle tart more resolutely. “I’m taking it back. I don’t want her around.”

Sirius holds on to that for dear life. “Okay.”

“I don’t know what got to me.”

“It’s okay. It’s fine.”

“Hmm.”

Sirius lets the conversation properly die out by saying nothing for a whole minute, and then he digs in on James’s treacle tart. The other grumbles, Sirius persists, and they end up fork-sparring over the dessert.

Later, while they’re hiding behind the statue of the humpback witch while Filch ran the other way screaming miscreants, miscreants, Christmas MISCREAAAANNNTTSSS!—Sirius remembers the ninety per cent chance of laughter from earlier, and wonders where all of it went.

1973. He’s so sure he’s going to get caught. Not that that’s a big deal. He’s had detentions before. Countless. He just didn’t want to spend Christmas Day scrubbing trophies in Filch’s stinky office for something he did. Not. Do. Solemnly swear.

He stumbles as he tries to halt at the last minute to turn around the corner, trainers skidding over the floor in an echoing screech—and then straight up slams against someone. They topple to the floor in a heap of groans, and Lily says (for that’s who it is, and this is how lucky he is), “What the hell, Potter.”

She’s the first to stand. Before she can take the first step away, Filch roars from a nearby corridor: “I’ll get you this time, you—”

Lily’s gaze drops on James. She arches one eyebrow.

“What?” asks James, getting to his feet as well. He dusts off his robes. “That wasn’t me.”

Filch again: “I can hear you—”

“Oh, hell,” mutters James. He starts backing away from her. His hands also start that weird gesture-dance thing that they do when she’s around. “Well, I gotta go, nice running into you—well, not nice, I mean—oh.” He stills his hands. “Are you hurt?”

Lily rolls her eyes.

And then she steps forward and takes his wrist, and James is like what, and then they’re running.

“Evans—”

“Shush.”

“It was you?”

She practically shoves him inside a broom cupboard that James is so sure should not be on this floor. Tonight is indeed full of magic. Thank you, God. Thank you, Hogwarts. Happy Christmas, universe.

The small, dusty door thuds close. Lily fishes out her wand and Lumoses the scant room. Outside, Filch is still yelling, but his growls are muffled and getting more distant by the second.

James starts laughing.

“Stop,” groans Lily, sitting down on a nearby crate.

“You turned Mrs. Norris into a gecko?”

Pause. And then, quietly, “A chameleon, idiot.”

He laughs again. When he’s exhausted his mirth, he considers sitting on the crate next to her, but decides against it. He’s been lucky, yes, but he can’t push it. He slumps on the floor.

“Thanks for saving my life,” he says, grinning at her.

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“It’s true. He’d have flayed me alive.”

“And you’d have deserved it.”

He holds a hand to his chest, scandalized. “No one deserves to be flayed, Evans.”

She narrows her eyes at his theatrics, but ultimately bends. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“Some just deserve to be turned into geckos.”

He might be imagining it, but he thinks her lips upturn a bit. “Chameleon.”

“Whatever.” He’s still grinning. “See, you do have a soft spot for me.”

Lily looks straight at him. “Last week Filch gave Sev a week of detentions for something he clearly did not do.”

James’s grin basically keels over and dies. “So?”

“So I turned his cat into a chameleon.”

“Charming.” He examines his nails, but there are too many shadows in the cramped room. “I suppose it was something we did.”

“What?”

“The thing he got in trouble with.”

“I thought so, yeah.”

It wasn’t, whatever it was, honest to god. But she wouldn’t believe that, would she? “Why’re we here then?”

She crosses her arms, the light from her wand shifting. “Why’re you mad?”

He shrugs. “Not mad.”

“Okay.”

“It wasn’t me.” He can’t help it. “It wasn’t any of us.”

She bites her lip. “I know that now.”

Oh. Oh. “You feel guilty? You’re making it up to me?”

“I’m avenging my best friend.”

“And saying sorry to me.”

“Don’t be delusional. No one’s saying sorry.”

But she is. And he’s grinning again, in spite of himself. “It’s fine, by the way.”

“Shut up.” Even in the dim lighting, he can see her cheeks flush.

Filch has stopped trailing them now, or else he’s so far they can’t hear him anymore. She doesn’t seem to have plans to leave yet. James stays put. Hell, he can stay put here forever.

“I can’t believe you turned Mrs. Norris into a gecko,” he says, and he dips the last words in bubbling laughter once more.

This time, after a few seconds of futile mouth-pursing, Lily finally indulges him a chuckle.

1974. "Come to visit me, Evans?“

She passes by with her chin up and properly haughty.

“Come on, it’s Christmas,” he says before she vanishes from view. Totally in jest on the outside, but… right, he just wants a Happy Christmas from her, maybe. That’s a damn fair wish after getting whacked with two bludgers, isn’t it?

“Not quite yet,” she counters.

“We’re both going home this year.”

“I just returned some potion practice sets to Madame Pomfrey,” she says, stopping at the foot of his bed.

“Ahuh,” he says. He has that stupid, cocky grin that she hates.

“Still haven’t learned your lesson then?”

“Slytherins are filthy cheaters? Etched in my heart forever.”

“Showing off gets you two bludgers,” she says, gesturing at the bandages around his head, his arm.

That doesn’t deter him in the slightest. “We won, didn’t we?”

“You’re here injured, aren’t you?”

“Worth it.”

She frowns at him. She takes two steps forward, grips the metal frame at the foot of his bed. “I’m so glad I talked to you,” she says. He knows better now than to expect something good from introductions like that. Besides, she looks more bewildered than glad. “I was worried. Like, this much—” She holds up a comically minuscule distance between her thumb and index finger, “—but now I’m okay.”

(Third bludger. This.) “Glad to help.”

“Well, I’m going now,” she says. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Fourth.

She’s gone.

Fifth.

Sixth, seventh, eighth…

He sinks further down his bed, thoroughly put out. With effort, he takes the two-way mirror out from under his pillow. How long does it take to nick stuff from the kitchens?

“Pad—”

“Are you talking to yourself?”

It’s Lily. She’s back.

He lowers the mirror down slowly. “Yes.”

She seems to deem that unworthy of any comment. She just comes closer, fingers around the frame again. “It was a good game,” she says, everything about her softer now. “You’re a fantastic player, everyone knows it. But—but never do that again.”

He stares. “Oh… ‘kay…?”

“You nearly gave Professor McGonagall a heart attack, that’s all.”

“Gotcha.”

She nods. She starts backing away. “And—er, well—get well soon. Happy Christmas.”

She’s already gone when he gets his bearings back. “Happy Christmas!” he yells after her, but he’s not sure if she’s still there to hear.

All the bludgers have long gone by the time Sirius, Remus, and Peter get back from the kitchens.

1975. There’s not much to say about this one. Just that her lips are so unbelievably soft, and that it does kind of feel like flying. When she guides his hands to, um, places, his heart skips to his throat, and maybe he flinches, because she leans back just enough to smile at him.

He’s fifteen, mistletoe is a muggle miracle, and the light from the grate makes her monochromatic. Her eyes could be green. Her hair could be red. She could be fifteen like him, she could be Gryffindor like him. She could be anyone.

(Anyone. Who’s he kidding?)

“All right?” Jeanne asks him. Her voice sounds wrong.

He nods. She smiles and kisses him again.

1976. The general mood these days is that he doesn’t feel like talking to anyone. Not Dumbledore, not McGonagall, not even Sirius. Lily’s out of the question, of course; it’s not like she’d ever talk to him anyway after the whole post-OWL fiasco last summer.

So when she approaches him after a Quidditch win that he thought would finally cheer him up (it didn’t), his brain doesn’t know what to do with itself.

He watches as she slumps down the cold floor beside him. The corridor is long, dark, and deserted. Her shoulder is touching his.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, keeping absolutely still.

She takes her time to answer. “I honestly don’t know.”

So they sit there for what feels like hours. Later, neither of them would know just for exactly how long did they stay like that there. Doesn’t matter.

“Talk, James,” she says after a time. She didn’t say it like an order—it was quiet, a bit exasperated even—but she seems determined as hell. “Not even to me. To your dad. To Sirius. The house elves. Madam Rosmerta. Peeves.”

“What’s the point?”

“You gotta give the universe a chance to patch you up.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“Why do you care?”

He expected her to bristle, but she just sighs. She shifts to get something from her pocket. When she holds it up, it takes him a few seconds to realize what it is.

“Take it,” she says, offering him the chocolate frog card.

He does. One of the edges has a slight fold-mark, but other than that it’s good as new.

“I don’t know if… we’re okay,” she says, staring at the card. “I don’t know if I’m not mad anymore because I simply am not anymore, or just because I’ve stopped thinking about it altogether.”

“Evans, I’m really sorry about—”

“I know,” she says. It’s not I forgive you, or It’s okay, but this is the first time she’s talked to him like this, and about it, and he’s going to bloody take what he can get. “It’s not even about that. It’s about… you. Now. I owe you a happy Christmas.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

She reaches out to flick the card in his hand. “Bowman Wright. Don’t you remember?”

He only does now.

“It’s the same one,” she points out when he doesn’t say anything. "It’s stupid but that card did wonders for me back then. I mean, it would probably not have the same effect, but I just want to remind you that sometimes… sometimes the world can surprise you, James. You just have to be out there. Let it.“ She nudges him. "Yeah?”

He nods. There’s a lump in his throat and a sting in his eyes and if he speaks he’s going to lose to all of them.

Lily senses this, and gets to her feet. “No one deserves to be flayed.”

“No one was flayed,” he says really quietly, staring at the card. “People lose people all the time.”

“You’d take getting flayed over losing your mum.”

He doesn’t answer.

“No one deserves both,” she says. A slight contemplative pause, and then, a little sheepishly, “Some just deserve to be turned into geckos.”

He looks up. God, this girl… “Chameleon,” he corrects  her.

The smirk she throws his way is accompanied by a relieved sigh.

When even the echoes of her footsteps have gone and the torches are less flagrant, he finds himself smiling (for the first time in a while) at Bowman Wright.

1977.

Potter,

I tried. Really. Dear Potter, Dear James, James, You Bloody Universal Git. Everything sounded awkward as all hell.

I don’t know how to write the body of this either. Or why I just said “body of this letter”. Merlin, are you crumpling this up now? Wouldn’t blame you.

A couple of things:

1. Actually, I don’t know 2. Have I confused you enough yet? 3. This is probably the hardest letter I ever had to write 4. And the weirdest you ever had to read 5. The thing is 6. That’s not even a whole sentence, so I don’t know why that counts as a whole number 7. Or whatever I just said in number 6 8. …And 7 9. And 8 10. This is not going to end 11. Do you hate me? 12. I don’t hate you 13. I think I 14. Might 15. MIGHT 16. Like you 17. And this is an invitation??? 18. No, a question 19. And I need an answer 20. Meet me at the Heads’ office, midnight 21. I’m here and I have your Christmas gift

The clock says 11:57, and he stumbles twice in his haste to get to the portrait hole. Five times more on his way to the office.

He runs like the wind. The Hogwarts fairy lights are a blur of memories; of mistletoe and chocolate frog cards and piles of presents and blazing red hair. Somewhere, someone is bellowing what sounds like Jingle Bells, except it’s hardly recognizable with its terrible off-keyness and the lewd lyrics.

Still. He laughs like he’s got everyone’s happiest Christmases swirling inside of him.

- fin -

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 172 prt 2

“Keith, put the phone on speaker!”

“You hear that?”

Pidge sounded grumpy

“Our gremlin being cranky?”

“Yeah. Are you okay to do that?”

“I’ve got it... lemme push the button”

Lance pressed speaker, managing to get it right again

“Okay, you’re on speaker, Pidge”

“Good! Hunk, help, they’re being romantic!”

“I know. I don’t know what Keith is saying, but it’s calming Lance down”

“They’re being all gross”

“Love isn’t gross”

“Because you and Shay are mental for each other. I’ll take my electronics instead. Now, I’m hooked up to your computer. Coran’s password works for everything”

“So it should work on here?”

“I’d say so. You ready?”

“Give it to me”

“It’s all one word. Coran-the-galant”

What the heck? Coran’s password involved himself? Then again, it was so weird that it was perfect. No one would think that Coran’s password was himself

“Pidge?”

“Don’t ask me. Maybe he had dreams of a sweeping red cape and slaying evil hoards”

“But... that?”

“Dude. I know you already changed your passwords to do with Shay”

Hunk blushed furiously, hissing

“Pidge!”

“I’m just saying. Are you in yet?”

“I’m getting there”

“Then hurry up. I don’t know how long I can listen to Keith and Lance”

Lance huffed

“I don’t know what you’re complaining about”

“You two being gross. Can’t you... I don’t know... do something useful like brainstorm how to stop a demon”

“We don’t know how”

“Well that doesn’t help. What if it’s on the loose?!”

“Then we have to get to Coran and Allura as soon as possible”

“Says the man who chose now to be in not labour”

“I can’t help it!”

“Pidge, stop teasing Lance. He only just started looking human again”

“That’s because he’s got a big gay crush on Keith”

“Is it still a crush if they’re dating?”

“I don’t know. I assume so”

“Good to know. Okay, I’m in”

“Great. I’ll wait for you”

“What are we concentrating on?”

“Getting the doors to the stairs up. Keith needs to get to his locker, and Lance needs to get to the infirmary”

“On it. I’ll work on this hallway, you do yours”

“Like I need you to tell me that. Oh, be careful of the encryption, it’s not Pidge level but it’s good”

“I can’t wait to see. Double or single?”

“Single and rolling”

“Damn”

“Yep”

“I wouldn’t mind meeting whoever wrote the code”

“I know, right? I’m going in!”

*

Keith could have kissed Pidge. Getting the walls up meant they couldn’t do anything about the lights and alarms, but they could leave the corridor. Selecting each door individually, she’d cleared through the staircase, going halves with Hunk for the floor between them. She would have brought the whole computer set up with her if she could. With comms not working, and there no way in hell Keith was leaving her behind, Keith dragged out the lab hoping he was guiding her the right way.

He wasn’t. Pidge had to guide him as she chided him for being lost. It was easier for them to get to Hunk and Lance than it was for Lance and Hunk to come to them, despite them being on the lower level. Keeping his sniper rifle up, he swept through the halls as they walked. The few staff they did pass seemed perplexed that this wasn’t a drill. Apparently Coran was one for drills at all kinds of odd hours. He was going to have to talk to him about that. It’d happened so many times that Coran’s staff was becoming immune. With his heart hammering, his head was filled with Lance. Get Lance, get to the infirmary, go from there. The three stages to his plan played on a loop in his head.

By the time they reached the main level, Keith had lost all patience. Running up the stairs, Pidge panted and cursed behind him, vowing death on those who invented physical exercise. Once in the hallways, he knew the way to both their friends. Leaving Pidge behind, he ran along the hall, smacking into the reception desk because he’d forgotten stopping was a thing

“Keith! Bud! I’m so glad you’re here!”

Hunk stood, eyes filling with tears. The words heartfelt... and kind of ignored. Rushing around the desk, he threw himself down to sit beside Lance. His boyfriend’s wings still out, and his colour deathly

“Lance?”

Tapping Lance’s cheek, Lance roused. How could Hunk let him sleep!? Sleep wasn’t good if Lance had started losing blood

“K-Keith?”

Realising he was real, Lance threw his arms around him. Keith falling on his arse with the impact

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you, babe. I’ve got you. You’re okay”

“I was scared!”

Keith chuckled. Lance had his moments, but he’d also had his moments where he’d taken charge. His boyfriend’s brain never shut up

“I know. How do you feel? Does it still hurt?”

“Yes... I don’t want to lose them”

“I know. Hunk, can you get the doors open to Coran’s office?”

“I’m working on it, but his and Allura’s office have an extra layer of security”

Reaching the desk, Pidge had both hands on her sides as she panted

“Oh, don’t worry about me, I’ve done all the hard work... I’m just... going to die now...”

“I need your help with this encryption. If we lift these four doors we’ll clear the way to Coran’s office without opening the stairs to the car park”

Pidge groaned, moving around the reception desk as she did

“I demand a pay rise... no one said running... was going to happen”

Leaving Pidge and Hunk to nerd, Keith pulled Lance up against him. His boyfriend’s legs over his left leg as he nosed his hair. His left hand rested on Lance’s belly

“Have they been moving?”

“Not as much today... I don’t want to lose them”

“You won’t. You’re not going to”

“I’m sorry... we need to be focusing on Shiro. We need to get to them. It feels like something’s really wrong”

“Coran can handle it. Allura is scary when she’s mad. Can you image how scary she’d be if a demon insulted her?”

“Very... shit... it hurts”

“I know. Keep breathing for me”

“I have been”

“Good. Good. You’ll be okay”

Lance sniffled sadly, whimpering as he hid his face with his forehead against Keith’s

“I wet myself...”

“I think that’s kind of perfectly okay given things”

“It’s embarrassing”

“It’s not like you’ve had access to a bathroom in the last two hours”

“Is that how long it’s been? It feels so much longer”

“You guys were trapped in the elevator for awhile...”

“I don’t like them”

“I’m not feeling too love towards them”

“It felt like it was going to fall and we were going to be eaten by the darkness”

“I’m sorry. I should have...”

“Don’t. We were getting coffee, like we’ve done dozens of times”

“Still”

“No. No. You came to our rescue again. You and Pidge make a great team. I was useless”

“So was I”

“You calmed me down”

“Really?”

Lance sniffled loudly, nodding as he did

“Yeah. Yeah, you did. This feeling’s really upset my ego. I watched my own nails shrink as you talked to me”

“I’m glad your ego thinks so highly of me”

“So am I... Keith, what do we do if the twins aren’t okay? What if this was what Allura saw? Me losing them... Shiro in pain? We thought it was us...”

That fucking prophecy. Keith knew it’d come back to bite them on the arse, but Allura had never mentioned the rest of all of this

“I... I don’t know. I don’t know how to get to him”

“If I was alone I could try the shaft? I’ve done it before...”

Keith shook his head immediately. This wasn’t like the mines in Garrison

“No. I am not letting you go down there alone. Either we all go or we all stay, or we all escape. There’s no in between’s or maybe’s”

“Once we’ve hit Coran’s office, we should get down to my lab”

“Coran’s office?”

Oh. Yeah... Lance probably wasn’t thinking straight

“We’ll get you some blood”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea when my ego is flaring”

“You need your strength, babe”

“You’re the one always rescuing me. Maybe I am a princess after all. You’re my knight in not so shining armour, Keith Kogane”

“And you’re my idiot crumpet”

“Says the anger loaf”

Keith nodded with a smile on his lips, agreeing completely. He’s taken absolutely any teasing from Lance because Lance had taught how to tease with love not malice

“Says the anger loaf”

[purplesurveys]

1093

survey by pinkchocolate

Hi there! This list is based on some things I've done recently. Let's say, within the last few days. Have you done any of these things in the last few days?

Worn make-up? I never wear makeup. I’ve never felt the need to.

Worn perfume? Sure. I went out last Sunday to bring Cooper to the vet and to take myself out to a coffee shop for a few hours, so I wanted to make sure I smelled decent.

Taken selfies? I think I may have, but I’m sure I deleted them almost immediately.

Shared some photos on social media? Yes, I posted a couple photos of Cooper because he was being super smiley the other day. I also shared a photo of my laptop, which was playing Friends, beside my Friends mug the other night.

Woken up to the sound of your phone vibrating? Technically. But this usually happens when I’m trying to fall asleep in the evening, i.e. someone sending a late-night message, and not in the morning.

Heard the rain outside your window? Yes. It’s literally happening right now haha it just started raining.

Added sugar to a mug of tea/coffee? No. I use 3-in-1 coffee packets, which are already pre-mixed and all I have to do is add hot water. I’m terrible with measurements and starting from scratch and I doubt I’ll ever get the hang of manually combining coffee + sugar + milk + creamer + whatever else goes into coffee haha.

Refilled your drinks bottle? I don’t use a tumbler. I’m at home nearly every day of the week so I always have access to our glasses.

Felt emotionally involved while reading a book? This has happened before for sure, but not in the last few days.

Chuckled/laughed while reading a book? Uhhh I guess. My employer recently lent me this book on PR that they thought would help me gain a richer appreciation of the industry and I guess I did lightly chuckle at a few humorous anecdotes in it.

Spilled a drink? I don’t think so.

Eaten something that was sprinkled with sugar? Nope. I’ve eaten sweets here and there but nothing sprinkled with sugar.

Googled the definition of a word? At least a few times a day.

Read a Wikipedia article? Yes, I love Wikipedia. The last entry I read was a list on notable last words.

Laughed at a video you watched online? So many times. The main reason I watch videos is to be entertained and to laugh, to be honest; so it’s nice that a lot of creators make great, funny content.

Craved a savoury snack of some description? I’ve been craving gourmet donuts for weeks now. Nothing sweet; I’m looking for those with creative, out-of-the-box flavors.

Cursed after dropping an item on the floor? Probably.

Been amused by your pet's behaviour? I am always amused at their behavior. Kimi’s approaching 13 years but he still makes me laugh every single day.

Recognized an actor in a TV show, from another show you'd seen? I’ve only been watching Friends, soooo nothing to compare it to.

Seen an actor on TV that you thought attractive? Courteney Cox, always.

Typed something in a word processor? I had to look this up lol, but I guess I have if Google Docs counts as one? I use it a lot for work.

Been asked a question that you found awkward or difficult to answer? Sure. My grandma called up when I was stuck in a particularly tough period of my shift and she was asking how it’s been. I didn’t want to worry her or overshare, so I paused for a bit and just said “it’s going great!”

Smelled a pleasant food aroma? Yeah, my dad cooks up some great stuff al the time.

Dipped your food in ketchup, mayonnaise or another sauce? Tartar sauce.

Forgotten a hot beverage, then found it had gone cold? I don’t make hot beverages, so.

--

survey by kellyburnsred

What music video do you wish you were in? I don’t watch music videos a lot, mostly because they’re usually not at all related to the song it corresponds to and I never saw the point. Buttt idk, the one I had some of the most fun watching was One Direction’s Best Song Ever because it was hilarious. It’d be cool to fuck around with the characters there.

Who makes you laugh the most? I’d say it’s either Andi or Hans. JM and Kate are good runners-up.

You only can eat three things the rest of your life, what do choose? That would make me sick of those foods so fast...but if it were a legit life-and-death situation, I would go with surf and turf (so that I at least have a bit of variety), rice (because I can’t live without rice), and macarons (for something sweet).

What's one thing you wish you had in your life right now? Macarons. I recently liked a slew of local macaron shops on Facebook and even though I know it’s my fault, I hateeee that my feed is filled with macarons now haha.

If you had to give up your style, what other style would you choose? I’m not really sure. I can think of more styles I’m not willing to adopt, than those that can be my back-up.

What's your favorite ice cream topping? Hot fudge.

What is the bare minimum of sleep you could function on? I guess 3 or 4, but that’s the barest of the bare minimum. I would still be cranky if I was only able to sleep for that few hours.

When you drive, do you generally speed? Yeah, if I can. You’re always stuck in traffic in Manila so if you have the chance to press harder on the gas, you typically wouldn’t want to miss out on it.

Are you an animal lover? Yes, except for pests and insects I don’t like, like cockroaches.

What's the dumbest thing you've done because someone dared you? I once ate a piece of siomai that already fell to the ground; when I ate it I felt a lot of tiny pebbles and other debris so I promptly spat it out in a nearby bin.

What is the most disgusting trait that you have? Idk...typical disgusting habits make me wince myself. The worst thing I can think of is that I tend to keep my nails super long just out of neglect; and I usually only clip them once dirt starts getting trapped under the nails, or once it starts to become hard to type.

What was the last thing you talked to your friends about? Angela had made this really cute, DIY foldable collage for Hans for his birthday yesterday and I just checked in on her earlier to ask if he loved it.

What part of your day do you look forward to the most? The moment my shift ends.

What are your favorite song lyrics? This week, it’s probably “It isn’t the same, but it is enough.” It’s oddly calming no matter how sad the actual context is.

Who are your closest friends? Angela and Andi.

What profession do you admire the most? All are worthy of admiration. I don’t really have a ~favorite~

Do you believe in karma? Not strictly in the spiritual sense; but it can be comforting to think that the people who have hurt me will have their ass handed back to them someday.

What do you think is the funniest show on TV? Ooh, I don’t watch a lot of TV anymore...I have a sitcom in mind but it ended 17 years ago and it’s still pretty polarizing to this day, lol.

Are you an organ donor? No.

Did you have imaginary friends when you were younger? Just one, but I didn’t get the point of it and I got bored very quickly.

Have you ever smoked weed? No but a friend knows a supplier should I ever want to start getting into it.

Who do you look up to for your style? Idk, whatever girls my age are wearing these days.

What's the most expensive thing you've ever bought? With my own money, probably the hotel accommodation I purchased for my dad’s birthday this weekend. I’m super stingy with my money and I can’t imagine spending 4 or 5 figures on something just for myself.

What's your favorite amusement park ride? Not too big on rides.

Who was the craziest teacher you've ever had? Ironically, it was my Christianity/religion teacher from 5th grade. We bumped into each other a few weeks after I graduated high school and his first remark towards me was about my breasts. He did a lot of stupid shit too when I was in 5th grade but I don’t feel like getting into them because he was just one big headache of a man.

Where would you like to travel that you have not been? Thailand, if within Asia; Spain if outside.

If you could be any musician for a day, who would you be and why? No thanks.

Do you have any tattoos? No.

What are your favorite scary movies? Some favorites are Carrie, The Shining, and Scream.