what's that thing please tell

The Bet- A Cassian/Azriel/Mor Fic

….Listen my dudes, idk what to tell you, I’ve never written this pairing before, never really felt that inclined to either… But they wanted to bang…so I let them. Bless my dearest, @pterodactylichexameter for betaing!! 

Title: The Bet

Summary: Modern AU, established relationship. Cassian, Az and Mor have somewhere to be and while the boys are up their sleeping beauty is nowhere to be found. Az comes with a novel way of getting her out of bed….NSFW. Sin. Much sin ahead. You’ve been warned. 

Teaser: Az’s dejected form isn’t what leaves their bedroom however. Instead, Cassian freezes in the act of raising his mug to his lips for a drink when he hears a soft, feminine moan escape. He waits for all of a second before the mug and half-eaten breakfast are abandoned and he wanders down the corridor to investigate.

Link: AO3 

Azriel doesn’t look up from the piece of toast he’s slowly, precisely, buttering as he hears the unmistakeable sounds of Cassian sloping into the room behind him. His boyfriend doesn’t stop walking until he crashes, albeit gently, into Az’s back, jolting him against the counter. His thick, muscled arms slide easily around his waist and he nuzzles softly at his neck, still slightly damp from the shower.

“Mm, you smell like Mor,” is Cassian’s dreamy idea of a mumbled morning greeting.  

Az comes as close to grimacing that he ever does at that. “I think I used her shampoo this morning,” he confesses drily, now tipping coffee into the mug in front of him. Cassian lets out a gasp of mock horror at this and withdraws from him as though tainted. He claps him playfully on the shoulder, “Good luck,” is all he says before he heaves himself up onto the worktop, his heels knocking gently against the cupboard door.  

A soft smile traces Az’s lips as he slides the coffee towards Cassian who raises the mug in a grateful salute after grabbing it before taking a long draught. “I don’t think I have to worry about it,” he says evenly, melting out of the way to let Cassian at the toaster and hob, “She won’t be coherent enough to notice for a while yet.

Cassian glances over Azriel’s head towards the door of their bedroom, slightly ajar, revealing the darkness within, then he snorts. “It looks like the lair of some fell beast,” he observes, casually swiping a piece of Az’s buttered toast and transferring it to his mouth. Az huffs but doesn’t protest, considering it a fair trade for the half a pack of bacon Cassian has just slapped into a pan.  

Az makes a business of checking his watch, “At this time of the morning you’re not far wrong,” he murmurs, ambling to the fridge and pulling out eggs which he lays on the counter within easy reach of Cassian’s broad, deft hands.

Cass snorts at that assessment, barely even looking at what he’s doing as he cracks the eggs and transfers them to a bowl to whisk them up, “How long do we have before we need to leave?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

“A few hours yet,” Az replies mildly, taking a small sip of his own coffee, “But she should get up now.”

Cassian snorts again, “You expect her to manage that without some sort of encouragement?” he demands, “Waking Mor up at this time is like waking the dead, we’d have an easier time finding a new girlfriend at the graveyard.”  

Az just smiles at that, watching his boyfriend work, “Mm, I’m quite fond of this one, as it happens,” he murmurs quietly.

He’s fully aware that he already has a plan to deal with their…situation. Cassian never eats his eggs scrambled this way, and his bacon is always half raw. Sure enough, a few moments later, tipping the eggs into a frying pan, Cass grins, “Don’t you worry, sweetheart,” he says affectionately, leaning over and kissing Az on the cheek even as he rolls his eyes at the petname, ”I have just the thing. She’ll be up in a minute, all bright eyed and bushy tailed.”

 It’s Az’s turn to snort at that. Of the three of them, Cass is the one most likely to tend towards optimism but even by his standards that’s stretching the bounds of belief. “Okay fine, she’ll be conscious,” he amends irritably before waggling a spatula threateningly in Az’s direction, “you get to take over from there.”

“If you actually manage to get her up I’ll take over from there,” he promises faithfully, taking another idle sip of his coffee.  

“Ha,” Cass grins, “Just you wait, Az, she can never resist my cooking. Ever.” He reaches past him and swipes the large ‘princess’ mug out of the cupboard, filling it with coffee from the pot before dumping in a small mountain of sugar and half of their milk reserves into it with his customary grimace that anyone would dare besmirch the good name of coffee the way that Mor does.

Azriel just hums as Cassian starts to load Mor’s breakfast onto a tray, leaning against the worktop, saying nothing. As he starts to leave the room however, Mor’s breakfast arranged in the shape of a smiley face with tomato eyes, a bacon mouth, scrambled egg hair and a spikey toast hat however, Az dips down and presses a soft kiss to his lips, “Good luck,” he murmurs.

Cassian waves an airy hand, “Oh ye of little faith!” he huffs irritably as he sets off in the direction of their bedroom.  

Azriel waits patiently and he and his lack of faith are rewarded by a Cassian stomping out of the room five minutes later, caught somewhere between astonishment and dejection, resolutely munching a piece of Mor’s toast. “Unbelievable,” he grumbles, looking sincerely crestfallen. “She’s made of stone, Az, we’re dating a statute, I hope you know that.”

Az just smiles as Cassian helps himself to some of Mor’s eggs, clearly lamenting their wasteful scrambling. “That was never going to work,” he says smoothly.

Cassian lets out a good natured growl, now eating a piece of Mor’s bacon with his fingers. He brandishes it at Az, “I bet you a tenner you can’t get her out of bed before I can.”

Cass watches as Azriel considers this, can practically hear the cogs turning in that mysterious, shadowed brain of his. Finally, with a decisive little nod, he sets down his piece of toast and says, “Deal,” before padding towards their bedroom.  

Blinking, slightly startled by this sudden turn of events he calls after him, “On this try mind you!” Az just vaguely nods his agreement, gently pushing open the door at the end of the corridor. What a well meaning idiot, Cassian muses with a shake of the head, happily stuffing one of Mor’s tomatoes into his mouth. She doesn’t know what she’s missing, this breakfast was up to his finest high standards, but Az is taking part in a truly hopeless mission. Fire-breathing dragons would have been easier and safer to approach than their Morrigan this morning.

Cassian waits, shovelling down more of Mor’s bacon with what Az would probably consider indecent enthusiasm. Mor would understand though, he has to give this breakfast a proper funeral, worthy of her approval. He expects to see Az slinking back to him, defeated, rummaging irritably in his jeans for his wallet to offer him the spoils of his victory. He freezes, another piece of toast halfway to his mouth, loaded with scrambled eggs and dread – if Azriel fails in this task it’ll be his turn to rouse Mor again…He contemplates this for a few seconds then shovels the toast and egg into his mouth, deciding it’ll be worth it. His boyfriend had been so achingly sure of himself and while Cass doesn’t think that Az’s ego needs to be deflated any more than it already is, on the other hand he really does like the idea of him coughing up the bet money.  

Cassian waits some more, still devouring Mor’s breakfast, feeling a slight pang of worry for Az. In her current state, well aimed pillows might just be lethal, and he’s quite fond of Az’s pretty face…He decides to give it a few more minutes before launching an emergency rescue operation. Any second now he’s going to have to kiss that small frown from his beautiful face, console him even as he delightedly accepts his winnings.  

Az’s dejected form isn’t what leaves their bedroom however. Instead, Cassian freezes in the act of raising his mug to his lips for a drink when he hears a soft, feminine moan escape. He waits for all of a second before the mug and half-eaten breakfast are abandoned and he wanders down the corridor to investigate.

Gently pushing open the door, decorated with Az’s careful, neat lettering of their names (Cassian’s idea) and the small stick figures in the top left corner, (a drunken Mor’s contribution) he pauses to properly drink in the scene. Azriel is kneeling on the floor at the side of their bed, Mor’s long, golden legs hooked over his shoulders, his head buried between them. Mor is arching in pleasure, another faint moan spilling from her open lips as her body bows from the bed. Her hands fist the crisp white sheets, clutching at them as Az teases her with his tongue.  

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control [jeremy h. x squipped!reader]

aka “i wanna impress my dorky crush bc he’s rly cute and im awkward.”

alright taking off my usual bold for authors notes because i gotta so:

here’s some notes about some shit that’ll be relevant:

squipped!reader has “The SQUIP’s text, which is all in bold only,” but sometimes will have “Regular quotes surrounding it” - which stands for something the SQUIP is making the reader say (but that will always be accompanied by some sort of clarification to avoid confusion, i promise)

there’s also “Regular speech” from the reader, but also “their thoughts directed toward the SQUIP” which are in both bold and italics

there u go.

quick reminder: if anything bothers you, absolutely just come to me and talk to me about it. if i need to fix anything, tag anything, do anything - just tell me.

warning: considering reader is squipped, there’s a bit of abuse from said SQUIP. shocks, manipulation - stuff like that (similar to what jeremy faced in the musical)


    Jeremy Heere was in four of your classes. Four. In two of them he sat a few desks in front of you by some random seating order, in one he sat right next to you, and in one he was cross the room. It was bad enough having one class with him, since you’d grow flustered and your palms would get sweaty and you would immediately become tongue-tied the moment you had to say anything to him - but four classes? Someone was out to get you, and you were pretty positive about it. It was pretty difficult to not glance his way in hopes that maybe he was looking at you during math - where he sat right next to you and sometimes asked if he could borrow your calculator because wow he forgot it again and you either stuttered out your apology or shove it in his direction and pray you knew how to do math good enough with a calculator. In english he sat desks away, and sometimes would whisper shit to Michael Mell and sometimes he’d get detention for it, and you heard him in chemistry talk about Christine Canigula a few times to Michael whenever they were away from prying ears - and you never intended on listening, it just sort if happened but you refused to say anything to anyone because wow what a creep listening to other people’s conversations wow.

    So you kept your head down and prayed that maybe you could work up the courage to talk to Jeremy - or maybe Michael, because maybe if you talked to Michael you could talk to Jeremy and it wouldn’t be so awkward right, because then you’d know Michael and Michael wouldn’t be a third wheel or something - not that he’d ever be a third wheel because you and Jeremy were just a dream and it would never happen, even if you kinda wondered what it would feel like to be in his arms sometimes but that was just thoughts that happened sometimes and only sometimes and you totally didn’t miss a couple of notes in your history class because you were thinking about Jeremy and how he was kind of cute because he fell asleep.

    Fuck, you were kind of creepy weren’t you. Sixteen years old and a complete weirdo, yep, totally - no wonder Jeremy never really talked to you. You picked at your nails and you retreated into oversized shirts and into your hoodies and pretended that you weren’t there because school is hell. Hell, you were used to not really being the cool, popular kid - you’d always been a bit of a loner, really, and luckily enough, rumors didn’t really fly about you and you weren’t even a blip on the radar. Meanwhile, Jeremy was… different. He was a bit of a geek and kind of tall so he stood out a bit more than you tended to.

    You weren’t complaining. You saw the shit people gave Jeremy - a certain short bully calling him ‘tall-ass’ for one - and you wished you could find it in you to stand up and tell them all to fuck off. But you weren’t a blip on the radar. You were unseen and you didn’t have much of a problem with it, so you kept your mouth shut and let the regrets stew in your mind.

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sometimes i think about how if the writers had given delphine an ounce of backstory they could’ve made the conflict so much more interesting.  if they had shown, not told or implied, that there was a figurative or literal gun to her head to become a monitor, to be cosima’s boss, to be the interim director, to do things for dyad that she didn’t want to do.  actually shown it.  the conflict would have been two women fighting for their own autonomy, the right to decide what they do with their bodies, who they do things for.  the conflict would have been two women finding someone who understood, who could help, who needed help, who was willing to help.  they would have found love and safety instead of more pain and fear.  who when they made one stride forward for one it was two backwards for the other.  the story would have been of two women fighting for each other instead of against.  it wouldn’t just be ‘what’s that crazy bitch delphine gonna do next’ because we would actually know her motivations.  we would know who she was outside of cosima and her own sexuality.  not only would she no longer be the untrustworthy or depraved bisexual but the conflict would have been deeper.  it would have brought up questions of who is right when neither party has a choice?  is there another choice?  whose priorities take precedence?  

it just would have been… more.

Man can you believe that Mob got so excited to see Tsubomi that he dropped the flowers he was going to give her? Smh

anonymous asked:

what do u think of the current enjoltaire versus enjonine battle

Hahahaha WAIT. There’s is a CURRENT Enjoltaire vs Enjonine fight? What is this, 2013?!

I don’t know of or care for it, I see 0.6 enjonine posts a year, and I frankly love to stay away from drama and discourse because I love enjoying things.

That being said, Enjolras is canonically uninterested in women and shipping him with a woman seems a little (euphemism) forced and heteronormative the way I see it. But then again, the way I understand it is that some people didn’t read the book and didn’t know about Enjolras’ lack of interest in women when they saw the movie, and our society is tragically heteronormative. A lot of people identify with Eponine and kinda want her unrequited love to be “fixed” with someone who loves her… and who else than the handsome revolutionary next door?

And I’m in no way saying it’s good, erasing Enjolras’ lack of interest in women and homosexual subtext (honestly, is it subtext at this point, Hugo?) isn’t good, but in a way I’m not suprised. Like at all. Because heteronomativity is so inscribed in society it leads to erasure. I was expecting it WHILE watching the movie.

Anyway, I had a point, but I forgot. It’s 8am, and that’s all I’ll post about it because as I said, I don’t care for drama. I think it’s more a canon LGBT+ representation vs Enjonine than it has anything to do with Enjoltaire, actually. And, well, Enjolras is canonically not into women, so that’s sort of a lost fight anyway. Though i’m convinced most Enjonine shippers aren’t trying to hurt anyone, erasing the canon sexuality/attraction or lack thereof of a character who happens to be non-straight for ONCE is doing it indirectly.

When Bitty comes out over Skype, his parents take it very well. He wonders if they had an idea or are just much more open minded than he thought they would be. When he tells them he is dating someone who was on the smh team and graduated last year his momma freezes.

“Um, are you alright?”

She takes a deep breath and releases it with a sigh. “Dicky, I love you no matter what, but for the love of all things holy please tell me you aren’t dating that Mr. Crappy fellow. I don’t want to call my son’s boyfriend anything like that.”

Bitty can’t help but laugh. He looks behind his laptop at Jack, who is trying to hold back his own laughter. “No, momma, I’m not dating Shitty, sadly.” At this Jack makes a face at him. “ You both know him, though. Sweetheart, why don’t you say hi to my parents?”

When momma and coach look so  relieved to see that it is Jack on their screen. They both can’t contain their curiosity and joy. Bitty thinks he might even see Coach wipe away a tear during the conversation, but he is smiling and tells the both of them how proud he is.

After the Skype session ends the two of them sit in silence, both knowing this is the start of their two families truly becoming one.

yall, if you’re poor n have the energy to, apply for an EBT card [food stamps] worst case you don’t get it, best case you have more money for food. I know it’s stressful, and asks a lot out of you, but please don’t assume they’ll reject you before applying, and you can always dispute your case, food is a necessity, and I know everyone says it’s very difficult to get on these, but please try, the same goes for SSI, and other forms of disability money/any welfare 

Please apply if you have the energy to, ask for help if you need to, you can go to dhs for the EBT thing, and social security for the disability money, and they’ll help you fill these things out and tell you what you need. Please try to apply for these things, don’t just assume you won’t get them. I know it sounds like a waste of time, but the best case is you get more money for food and survival.

anonymous asked:

one day fish mob wakes up with mob mobs face

I will have yall know that I sacrifice my supposedly 11 hr sleep to make this shit

6

“It [her legacy] trails after me like tin cans tied to the back of a car — that’s what all my award nominations and things like that are me….My legacy is personal to me. The bigger part of it — the Meryl Streep of it all — I kind of can’t handle that.“  

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE FIRST LADY OF HOLLYWOOD (June 22nd 1949) 

Amortentia (Ashton/4)

Hello again! Nearly three months since @0kbutmichaelclifford hosted her Hogwarts!5SOS Blurb night and I’m still thinking about this concept! Never enough Hogwarts!5SOS if you ask me… I hope you’ll enjoy the 6k+ (I know, but apparently I don’t get the definition of a blurb!) of Hogwarts!Ashton below. Let me know what you think? 

1. Potions Class

You’re yawning when you walk into the dungeon, following your housemates into the Sixth Year Potions class. It’s Monday morning, first class of the new semester and it seems as if both Gryffindors and Slytherins alike have a lot to share with their friends.

The Hogwarts Express had pulled into Hogsmeade Station on Saturday evening, bringing back the students who’d gone home over Christmas break, and clearly most inter-House friends hadn’t had a chance to catch up yet. The chatter is loud, but somehow still quiet; alerting you that something’s missing. You revel in the extra couple of moments without the worst sound known to you: The Giggle. You rest your head on your table, cushioned by your bag, while you count your blessings of some extra Ashton Irwin-free moments on top of the Ashton Irwin-free day yesterday.

(According to the rumor mill, Irwin visited family abroad over break and had been unable to catch the train back. He’d arrived late Sunday evening, after curfew, and the late hour had kept him from showing his face in the Slytherin Common Room to visit two of his sidekicks: Michael Clifford and Luke Hemmings, two of your Fifth Year housemates.)

Alas, your luck eventually runs out and Irwin shows up for class. Fortunately for you, so does Professor Slughorn and the old man doesn’t waste time: after hurriedly greeting the group of students, he beckons you all to the front of the class where several cauldrons are stood simmering. Many of your classmates are greedily breathing in the intoxicating fumes wafting off the unidentified potions and you roll your eyes: how did these idiots even make it to N.E.W.T. level Potions when they pull stunts like sniffing potentially toxic vapors?

One cauldron, obviously attracting the most attention from your fellow students, is soon identified: the way the people surrounding you are gluttonously breathing in the fumes makes it easy. Slughorn points at you to explain the potion to your peers. (You’re not surprised by it: both you and your class have already made peace with your role as Slughorn’s star pupil.)

“That’s Amortentia, the world’s most dangerous love potion.” You start. You hear someone scoffing and you don’t need to look to identify the person: Ashton Irwin has never dealt well with being second-best. You glare at him and he sticks out his tongue. Shaking off his childishness, you continue explaining.

“The potion causes the drinker to grow an infatuation with the one who administered it. Beware: it is not love; the potion needs to keep being fed to the drinker if one wants the effects to last. The mother-of-pearl sheen and the spiraling steam are two of its most noticeable characteristics. Also, the potion smells differently to every individual, depending on what that person finds attractive.”

“Very good, Miss Y/L/N,” Professor Slughorn praises. “5 points for Slytherin. Care to share what you smell? For the sake of this class, of course.”

Professor Slughorn winks at you and you grin. Before you can answer however, someone else shares their input. (You’d be more surprised if he hadn’t opened his mouth.)

“Allow me to guess, Professor,” You have to hand it to the kid, though: he never did keep his distaste for you under the teachers’ radar. “Y/N is a complicated person, after all. No one really knows whether she comes from a long line of Acromantulas or Dementors…”

You interrupt him, ever so politely, but with a tone as poisonous as your supposed ancestors. “It’s not so much an ‘or’-matter, Irwin, as it is an ‘and’-matter. And don’t worry, you can’t please either one of my bloodlines despite your valiant efforts of being noticed. Not the Dementor one, since you already are a sad excuse of a human being and not the Acromantula one either, since I’ve never seen someone as tasteless as yourself.”

You smile finely at him, your classmates sniggering behind their hands, and Irwin’s right eye twitches. (You mentally congratulate yourself: the eye-twitch was always the ultimate end to your feuds. It usually only takes one more push before Irwin starts blowing things up, throws hexes your way, and inevitably lands himself in detention for another week. Call it one of your talents, if you will.)

“I’ll keep it short,” You turn back to Professor Slughorn and the man gives you a wry smile, still somewhat keeping an eye on a probably less-than-amused Irwin. “I smell the Quidditch Pitch, vanilla candles and the waxy scent of the vinyl Muggle records I collect.”

“Very well, my dear,” The old man excitedly claps his hands and shoos everyone back to their worktables. “Now it’s your turn: 2 hours ‘til the end of class. Should be just enough time for you to brew your own Amortentia. Ingredients are in the supply closet like always. Samples are left in a named vial at the front of the class in the panniers for your House and the remainder of your potion should be Vanished before you leave the classroom. Best of luck to you!”

The remainder of the class progresses without much difficulties (other than the occasional smart remark from Irwin). By the end of the two hours, you bring your sample to the front like instructed.

While you’re busy doing so however, someone else casts a Notice-Me-Not-charm on themselves and manages to steal a sample of your potion before you can empty out your cauldron. They’re careful not to swap your scantling with theirs when leaving theirs in the basket full of Gryffindor vials and hastily exiting the dungeon…


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anonymous asked:

Not gonna lie witty scares the crap out of me. I had to unfollow because her posts on my dash were giving me anxiety and making it hard to enjoy your guy's collaborations. Idk why... It was just really stressful. Your dash is usually a lot calmer

I don’t know why you tell me this anon. Who you follow or not is your decision, but regarding this specifically, witty’s dash is very similar to mine? We reblog a lot of similar things, often most of the posts on our dashes are the same :/ 

I don’t know what you expected coming to my inbox confessing this to me, a close friend of witty’s and think I wouldn’t be offended on her behalf? I honestly think it’s pretty rude anon, and I would prefer to not get messages like these. 

the wonderful @makoto-can-tachimybana requested a kurohina hug to accompany her bokuhina hug and i am ALIVE  

Whatever happened to just … being allowed to enjoy something? Why is it required to give a thesis statement on why you enjoy a character or movie more than others in a series? Why is it that people continually feel like tearing others down for what brings them even a little bit of happiness, just because it isn’t what THEY enjoy? Just keep your trap shut and stop, it’s not always about YOU.

Humans are Weird - Part 4

Here’s the fourth part! And, the second thing Xylion noticed about humans! Enjoy!


Xylion was sitting in the cafeteria with the humans, though he wasn’t really paying them any heed. He was too busy focusing on eating his food. It was his favorite. However, he was stopped when he noticed Human Fredrick take a bite of his and grimace.


“What is the matter, Human Fredrick?” He asked, turning away from his food to look at his coworker.


Human Fredrick sighed. “It’s nothing major, just…this is very bland.”


Human Isaac scoffed. “You and your fancy taste buds. This has enough flavor.”


“’Flavor’? It tastes like cardboard!’ Human Jenny cried, slamming her utensil down on the table.

Xylion didn’t know what ‘cardboard’ was, but judging by Human Jenny’s reaction, it must be bad. His shoulders slumped. Was his favorite food not good enough for them?


Human Mason sighed. “Just put something on it if you can’t handle it, you two.”


Xylion watched the two humans contemplate it for a second before nodding. Human Jenny and Human Fredrick both stood up and ran off, leaving Xylion highly confused. He looked at Human Mason and Human Isaac for answers, but they two were gone.


He sighed and continued to eat his food. If the humans didn’t enjoy it, then it meant more for him.


It couldn’t have been more than two minutes when the pounding of feet were heard. Xylion looked up to see them running back over to the table, all carrying something in their hands.


Human Jenny sat down first and set her vibrantly colored bottle on the table. Human Isaac was next, though his was tamer. Human Fredrick set his dark bottle down, and Human Mason set his neutral colored bottle down as well.
Xylion pointed at their bottles. “What are those?”


Human Jenny grinned. “This here is known as Sriracha! It’s spicy!”


“‘Spicy’?”


Xylion watched as Human Jenny flipped the bottle over and squeezed the edges of it. He watched an orange colored substance begin to fall out of it, hitting the white paste. Xylion felt his heart shatter. They were ruining it!


Human Jenny picked up her utensil and scooped some of the orange stuff up with her food and popped it into her mouth. Xylion saw her eyes begin to mist up slightly, but she swallowed it anyway.

“Man, this is some good stuff!” She cried out, a grin spreading on her face. Xylion could feel the heat spilling out near him, even though she sat the furthest form him.


Human Fredrick grimaced. “Ew.”


Human Jenny stuck her tongue out at him, which he then copied.


Human Isaac sighed. “Ya’ll, that shit is nasty! Here, let me show you how delicious mine is!”


Xylion watched Human Isaac as he pulled a cap off his bottle and squirt the yellow substance onto his paste. He then took a bite. Human Isaac’s eyes lit up as he swallowed it. “Ah, good ol’ mustard! You’ll never fail to keep me going!”


Human Jenny seemed fearful of him. “You…you monster! Who dares eat mustard so casually?”


Human Isaac rolled his eyes. “Better than what Mason is about to put on his.”


Xylion turned his attention to Human Mason, but the sound of a horrific noise filling the air shocked him. He turned to Human Fredrick, who was squeezing the edges of his bottle too. The horrible noise filled the air again. Xylion watched as the substance dropped onto Human Fredrick’s food.


Human Fredrick scooped some up and put it into his mouth, and then began to shovel it in. Xylion was shocked at the speed he was eating it at. However, he stopped when he saw everyone staring. “What?”


“Ketchup, really? Why ketchup of all things? Please, do tell.” Human Jenny said, her tone odd.


Human Fredrick rolled his eyes. “I’m not the one putting spicy Sriracha on my food!” He cried, some bits of food flying out of his mouth. Xylion sighed. What terrible manners.


Human Mason shook his head as he squirted some of his substance onto his food. Xylion watched the brown substance easily fall out of the bottle. He glanced at the other humans and saw their schocked and horrified expressions.
“What’s that?”


“Ch-chocolate sauce.” Human Isaac stuttered.


Zellnor blinked in shock. “And what is chocolate sauce?”


“Something that should never go onto the paste. They had me try each one, and to be perfectly honest, it was the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life. Each one tasted of death, though Human Mason’s was the worst. Chocolate sauce is, as Human Isaac described it as, a ‘savory’ meal, not a ‘sweet’ one.”


“What else? Anything, good?”


Xylion shook his head. “I haven’t even gotten to the worst one yet, Captain.”


“Oh, Galactia help us.”


How’d you like this part? I’m having fun writing these…I hope you enjoy reading them!

Also, sorry if this post looks a little weird. I was doing some editing on my phone and accidentally posted this, so it had to be copied and I had to make a whole new post, and the spacing became weird. Anyways, hope you liked it!

Ok, so in April, someone sent Nif some sad headcanons about a reader/Noct kid, and then I had a blast sending in more sad headcanons about that kid. And now I wrote some of it. This is like the second thing I’ve ever written, and I’m still trying to find a style I like writing in, so it might not be the best in the world (its in Lux’s point of view and past tense). BUT, I liked how it turned out. And, I accidentally didn’t say his full name in the whole one shot! His name is Lux Solis Felix Caelum, because I liked all the names that all us anons suggested, lol. Ok On With The Story!  

@nifwrites  (I said I’d tag you in it if I wrote it.)


It all started when Uncle Gladio had accidentally called me a different name. 

We where all getting ready to watch a movie, as all three of my uncles where headed out in the morning for a hunt that would take a week to travle to. I couldn’t even imagine traveling more the a couple hours. I was making popcorn for everyone, and watching closely, as I’m know for burning food, but hey I was only 7.

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7

bangtan pokemon au! 

insp