#Hilary cargo skirt

[theoriginaldresslove]

[mimimiafanpage]

Fuck it another Mia rant but um

I need her to be a lesbian sososooso bad

"Oh but the arrowfam already has one gay character-" THEY ALL SHOULD BE GAY

but at least Mia (and if the batfam gets two so does the arrowfam)

"But what about dodger" um uh... comphet. While I think it was important to show an HIV+ character in a... "healthy" relationship uh. I don't like him. I know Mia was 18 atp but iirc he was like 27 and I find that weird. Also he cheated on her. (Tbh I think he was just an excuse to get rid of her for a couple issues.)

But you can put her in a healthy lesbian relationship too. (And erase dodger cause I hate him)

"But with who, Cowpoke?" Uh. Uh. Make a new girl for her to be toxic Yuri with. (It'd be hilarious to me if she was an Amazon cause. Homophobmia)

And that's another thing! Her homophobic comments! You can just erase them, sure.... or..... have them be her internalized homophobia!

Anyways rant over hashtag make Mia Dearden a lesbian 2k24

[fetishfairytales2]

The Secretary, Pt. 1 (Story)

When Chloe didn't show up to Brandi's birthday bash, I decided it was time to bring the party to Brandi's office. Sure, Chloe was the girl Brandi cheated on me with, but honestly I just felt sorry for the poor gal. If she could be fooled into thinking my little sweet sissy was a real man? Well, that girl had bigger problems! No, I need to introduce their former colleagues, especially Chloe, to my new and improved Brandi. I wanted to show off my little project, and I knew some people in the office would be the perfect audience!

As for Brandi's boss, Charles, that tall, dark, and handsome hunk of a man… let's just say we have a mutual understanding. We used to flirt when Brandi was still living a lie as a man, but now? Let's just say I had to put in some "extra work" during our private negotiations in his office to ensure Brandi could keep working remotely. It's all about using my charms, and Charles has certainly seen my charms, if you know what I mean! She dodged the humiliation of seeing her coworkers at her birthday party, but my sissy slut was not going to get that lucky twice! No, no, no!

As I drove over, I schemed, knowing this was gonna be fun! My little sissy Brandi was strapped into her car seat, helpless, wearing the cutest outfit ever. She looked adorable in her pink frilly skirt that barely covered her diapered ass, a white crop top with "Baby Girl" in glittery letters, and white knee-high socks with pink bows. But the accessories… Princess Brandi deserved some bling! I had her wearing this cute little bib that said, "Daddy's Little Girl," her penis pacifier, which was gagging her, tied tightly with a cute satin ribbon. The glittery pink sash that read "Birthday Babe" was the perfect touch! When I pulled into the near-empty parking lot, I burst out laughing. "Oh look, Brandi, there he is!" I teased, seeing my sissy squirm in the rearview mirror. "Mr. Charles, always the early bird. How lucky that he's still in his car!" I adjusted my the top of, very short, very tight black dress, making sure my tits were on full display, no bra necessary of course. Charles had seen me naked a million times by now, but I wanted to make a good impression! I stepped out of the car with a sway of my hips, letting the door slam shut. That got Charles' attention, for sure!

I strutted my stuff over to Charles' car, and I could practically feel his eyes burning a hole through my dress. He rolled down his window, eyes wide, like he wanted to fuck me right then and there. "Damn, Heather, you lookin' fine!" I giggled, leaning over to give him an eyeful of my cleavage. "Girl, you know what you're doing. Ain't you supposed to be at home with your man? Usually, you're visiting me in the afternoon!" God I hope Brandi could hear this. Charles stepped out of the car and twirled me around, whistling when he spotted the g-string peeking out from under my dress. "Well, well, Miss Heather. What's the occasion?" he asked, heading towards the door. I couldn't wait to show him my little surprise!

"Oh, Mr. Charles, could you be a gentleman and hold the door for me? I need to get my little girl out of the car," I purred, batting my eyelashes. With a confused shrugged, Charles obliged, watching as I opened the trunk and pulled out a massive pink stroller which had a ton of straps attached. I wheeled it over to the back seat, giving Charles a wink and leaned into the car. “Let’s go girlie,” I laughed tightened the ribbon securing Brandi's pacifier. "Come to Mommy, sweetie," I lifted my precious cargo out of the car and plopped her down into the stroller. I grinned down at my sissy, taking my time to strap her in securely. Her eyes widened as she realized where she was, and I knew that any second now, the waterworks would start. Seeing Charles' shocked expression as he realized it was Brandi in the stroller was fucking hilarious. He looked disgusted. I just grinned and acted casual, slinging the diaper bag over my shoulder and pushing my little sissy's stroller proudly, right past him and into the building. "She's my sweet widdle princess, Brandi!" I cooed and winked at the stud still standing in the doorway. "You coming, big boy?" Brandi’s boss was going to follow me to his office. Men are so easy. As we stepped into Charles' office, I laughed at how quiet he still was. The whole elevator ride up, this chiseled smoke show of a guy just stared at Brandi, trying to wrap his head around the fact that this diapered sissy was his former employee. He had no problem fucking me behind Brandon’s back, so let’s see how he felt about fucking me in front of Brandi’s face! “Let me just get her all situated,” I laughed as I pushed the stroller into the center of the room. “Okay girlie,” I grinned, leaning over, and whispering to my crying little sissy bitch, "Stop your fucking whining, Brandi. You know Mommy's in charge, and whatever I say goes." I giggled, seeing the fear and desperation in her eyes as she hyperventilated under her gag. "Now, be a good girl and let Mommy plan our little show for Charles here."

Charles was almost cute with his concern, asking; “what did you do to…him?” He’d forget he cared real quickI just ignored his silly question and got to work. Unstrapping my little sissy from the stroller, I pulled Brandi to her feet, letting those cute little pampers show. Then, I turned my attention back to Charles, strutting towards him and running my hands over his shoulders. I could feel Brandi's eyes on us as I smiled and looked back at her. Brandi was going to watch all of this, whether she liked it or not. Leading Charles over to his desk, I giggled at his confusion. "Damn, girl, you're a freak," he said, but I just shook my head and pulled his chair out

"Have a seat, Mister Charles," I purred, pushing him down into the chair with a giggle. Turning back to my little sissy, I snapped my fingers and ordered, "Get your ass over here, now! And stop that fucking crying, you're ruining your makeup." I loved seeing the fear in Brandi's eyes as she stood there, sobbing and shaking. "You have three seconds to get that pathetic ass over here, or I'm coming to get you," I warned, hands on my hips. "1…2…" Before I even finished counting, Brandi was waddling over in those stupid diapers, knowing better than to keep Mommy waiting. "Down, bitch," I demanded, pointing to a spot in front of Charles' desk.

I smiled at the chiseled hunk of a man, and then turned my attention to my little princess. "You better behave, Princess Pampers," I cooed, reaching into the diaper bag and pulling out the cutest hot pink metal handcuffs. I locked Brandi's arms above her head to the handle of a desk drawer, ensuring she was stuck there, unable to escape. Her boss just sat there, staring at the sight of his former employee, now my diapered sissy, sucking on a pacifier, helpless and exposed. I straddled Brandi's outstretched legs, bending over the desk so that Charles had a perfect view of my ass and my little sissy's terrified face just inches below it.

I was feeling extra playful, shaking and grinding against the desk. I lifted my dress, showing off my lacy black g-string and my perfect ass. Charles' eyes almost fell out of his head! I giggled, playing with the fabric and teasing him by pulling the underwear deeper into my ass crack. "So, whatcha think?" I asked with a cute smirk. Charles was almost drooling now.! Brandi was making some sad whimpering noises, but I just ignored the poor thing…for now. "You like this ass, Charles, don’t you?" I teased, shaking it playfully. "But the real question is, you wanna hit this?" I winked, pulling my skimpy panties aside to give him a quick peek. Charles just nodded, all tongue-tied. I mean, we'd done it on my desk a million times, but he was acting like it was all brand new! God men are too easy.

I was getting so turned on, I started rubbing my clit through my panties. I mean, why the hell not? Might as well give Charles the full show, right? "Mmm, if you wanna own my pussy, first you gotta own this pussy!" I moaned, grabbing my little sissy Brandi by her bleach-blonde ponytail and yanked her head up to look her boss in the face. Her muffled screams and pleading behind that cutie pacifier cock gag was music to my ears, and I just giggled with delight. "That's right, girlie pop, you're part of the fun," I beamed down at Brandi, feeling so fucking hot. "You're not just gonna sit there and watch me fuck your boss. Oh no, sissy slut, you're getting in on this action too!"

Charles was, like, totally into it, which was a little surprising. I thought he’d put up a little bit more of a fight before he turned on his former employee. Nope! He practically pounced on me, and I wouldn't be surprised if he accidentally stepped on Brandi's dumb sissy face he got to me so fast! That would've been hilarious! Charles grabbed my hips and pulled me close, his hand sliding down to my pussy. I could feel his hot breath on my neck as he growled, "What do you want me to do, baby? I’m gonna fuck you so good.." Then, he smacked my ass! Damn, it stung so good, and I could feel my pussy getting even wetter. Charles didn't wait for an invitation; he just took control like the real man he is. He pushed my hand away and started rubbing my clit with his skilled fingers, slow and steady. Mmm, he knew exactly what he was doing, and I was loving it!

"What do you wanna do to you and your little bitch?" he teased, pulling my hair playfully and biting my ear. "You own you both, hmm slut?" I moaned softly, totally unable to resist him. I was, like, putty in his hands! I was even bucking my hips like a naughty girl. And Brandi, poor thing, was just trapped there, listening to her Mommy being such a whore for a real man. "I'm gonna make you both scream my name, baby," Charles chuckled, full of confidence. "You two are mine. You’re both going to call me Sir now." His fingers moved faster, and I could feel myself getting weaker in the knees. Damn, he was good! I loved how he always took control fast!

I was moaning, feeling myself getting so turned on, like, wow! Even Conner never owned me like this, holy shit! "Ooh, fuck, sir," I screamed, almost begging for more. "Please, not yet. Let me just…" Charles turned me around quickly, kissing my neck and grabbing my hair. He even pulled my tits out of my dress! This man was hungry, and I could feel my knees shaking. I had to brace myself to regain control; damn, my clit was in charge for a second there! I pushed Charles back with a playful smile. "Nu-uh, not yet, sir!" I teased, guiding him to his chair and straddling his lap. "First," I grinned, unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt and rubbing his chest, "I need to ask you for a favor. Then you can get your dick sucked all day, I promise!" I giggled, and it wasn't even a lie! Charles sighed and rolled his eyes, knowing I was up to something, but he didn't care. He was down for whatever at this point.

"I want you to call little miss intern, Chloe, into your office as soon as she gets in. Tell her it's important and she needs to clear her schedule. Do whatever you need to, I don't care, just get her in here." I winked at him. "Also, take off your pants. It's getting hot in here." I said with a smile. Now, I was back in control and God it felt good. He slid his pants off and sat back down, sissy’s eyes bulging when he saw what was hanging between Charles’ legs. God his cock was massive, I fucking loved it! "Oh, Sissy!" I cooed, smiling down at the pathetic sight of Brandi, tears pooling in those wide eyes of hers, snot streaking across her face. I just knew that wouldn't be the only mess decorating that cute baby cuck face of hers by the time I was done.

"Mommy wants to know, my widdle cucky, if you want to watch her sucking Sir's cock, hmm?" The shock of seeing me with her worst enemy was bad for Brandi, but know I was now fucking her boss too? Poor girl. She was shaking her head so har! It was so cute, the poor thing was in denial! "Oh, sweetie!" I giggled, feeling Charles' fingers pinching my nipples, making them hard just for him. "What you don't realize, my dumb sissy, is that Mister Charles and I have been fucking for months. Wondered why you've been allowed to work remotely all this time, being a stay-at-home baby cuck? Well, now you know, you silly, stupid girl!" I kissed Charles, feeling his tongue in my mouth and his hand pulling my hair. "This," I giggled, looking down at Brandi while my hands roamed Charles' chest, "is how Mommy's going to get you that promotion, little girl!”

Charles was all over me now, and I could tell he wanted more. "Promotion?" he asked, sounding intrigued as he sucked on my sensitive buds. I just smirked, knowing he'd love what I had to say. I leaned in, whispering my plan while practically pushing my tits into his mouth. His tongue and teeth on my nipples had me moaning, but I managed to explain how my little sissy Brandi would become his personal secretary. His hands gripped my ass, and then I felt them sneaking back into my panties. I arched my back and screamed when he fingered me again. God, he knew how to make me feel so damn good. "Tell me more about this new secretary of mine," Charles demanded, his fingers now playing with my clit. I whimpered and begged for more as I painted a picture of Brandi reporting to him daily, dressed in her sissy baby outfit, no spare diapers, plugged and gagged, and begging to be locked under his desk for the day. "Why do I need a sissy bitch under my desk?" Charles teased, his fingers working their magic on my clit while he pushed me closer to orgasm.

"Mmm, why don't you find out, baby?" I teased, climbing off Charles' lap and kneeling down next to the trapped Brandi, who was about to witness her cuckolding up close and personal. Charles laughed, a deep, sexy sound that filled the room, as he stood tall, his massive cock hard and throbbing, right in front of Brandi and me. "Watch closely, my widdle sissy bitch," I chuckled, reaching out to grasp Charles' dick. It felt so powerful in my hand, and I couldn't wait to taste it. I leaned in, my lips wrapping around the head of his cock, and I hummed in delight at the taste of his pre-cum as my tongue swirled around the tip. "Mmm, Sir's dick tastes so good, Brandi. So much better than your widdle clitty could ever hope to be!" I took him deeper, my lips gliding along his shaft, my mouth working hard to take his massive cock to the back of my throat. My hand stroked what my mouth couldn't reach, and I moaned with his cock buried in my throat, my eyes locking with Brandi's, seeing the tears welling up.

"I know you know how to do this, Brandi." I giggled around Charles' cock, looking directly into Brandi's eyes as I spoke, "I know you've practiced on Daddy's dick a million times. But, and shh, don't tell Daddy this," I paused, taking a breath and removing the monster cock from my mouth to playfully slap it across Brandi's face, "I think Sir here might be even bigger! So, you better learn how to take it like a good sissy!" My hand moved faster as I popped his cock back into my mouth, sucking greedily like it was a lollipop. "Bet you wish I would've sucked your dick like this, huh, widdle girl? Too bad it was too tiny to even find in your diaper!"

I just love when Charles takes control! I mean, feeling his strong hand on my head, pushing me down on his throbbing cock… it makes me feel so fucking good! He’s such a real man, he even held my head and was basically fucking my throat! Hearing him growl, "Fuck, slut, keep going!" made my pussy tingle. Like, oh my god, he was so dominant and demanding, ordering me to go faster, guiding my head up and down his massive dick. I get wet thinking about making him cum! And then, just as I was about to make Brandi's boss cum, right in front of her, there was a knock at the door. I might be a bit of an evil bitch, sure,, so I saw this as an opportunity for even more fun! I slowly took Charles' cock out of my mouth, teasing him right at the edge of his orgasm. The look on his face was priceless! I winked at him and mouthed for him to answer the door, promising to keep things fun. I gently gripped his throbbing cock, feeling its hardness and size. Holy crap, it was like the size of my arm! I bet Brandi was staring at it with her sad, tear-filled cucky eyes, realizing why she was in her Pampers while Charles was getting the royal treatment from me.

As Charles called out, "Who…is…it?" through gritted teeth, I smiled devilishly, knowing it was Chloe. I wanted to make this quick and fun, so I sped up my strokes, aiming to finish before our new friend arrived. Charles' cock was so big and veiny, and I could tell he was close the way it was twitching. It only took a few strokes for him to be gripping the desk, trying not to scream out loud. Just as he was about to explode, I directed his cock towards Brandi's pathetic little face and let a real man unload his massive cum loads all over her! It was like a fucking fire hose, I swear! Just load after load of cum landing on this poor, worthless little loser. Her cheeks, nose, and even in her hair, she was covered in cum! Her makeup was running down her cheeks and her lips and her tears were flowing again. I just knew snot wouldn’t be the only thing streaking her face today!

“Aww, see widdle Brandi, Mommy's got you a promotion!” I giggled as I gently wiped the excess jizz from my hands, onto her face. Charles let out a satisfied groan, all worn out and still pantless from our little playtime. I wrapped my lips around his cock one more time, loving the taste. Then like a proper lady, I stood up, straightened my dress, and helped him sit down. Pushing his chair gently up to him, I watched him down and groaned again. “Shh, I got this,” I giggled. There he was, my ex-boyfriend’s chiseled hunk of an alpha male boss, dazed from me blowing him, and naked from the waist down. His cock, covered in my saliva and his cum, was just inches from Brandi's gagged mouth. It was a sight that I'm sure Brandi would get used to, whether she liked it or not! As I quickly pulled my dress back over my tits, trying to act all casual and hide Charles' state, I called out; "come in!" to our little visitor. And, of course, who should it be but the lovely intern that Brandi started this whole adventure out by cheating on me with, but Chloe! I put on my brightest smile and greeted her with a cheerful and peppy; "hi, girl! You must be Chloe! I've heard so much about you!"

To Be Continued.

[plant-acts]

what do the links look like in your theatre au? might draw em if I find the time

Looks-wise, they are pretty similar to their LU counterparts (minus Wind, who is an older version of himself).

As for what they wear though, I can go into more detail about that!

--

Time: Khaki pants with a button-up (although Malon begs him to please just wear a t-shirt and jeans, she's tired of him messing them up). He doesn't have a facial tattoo anymore, but he has a similar looking one on his chest.

Twilight: We all know he's a country boy, so old jeans, a plain T-shirt, and dark flannel. He has steel-toed work boots (he probably broke his toe when a set fell once and swore never again). His tattoo is on his upper arm now as well. Also, he absolutely has a farmer's tan. (I almost made him midwestern emo and I think that's hilarious)

Warriors: I feel like Wars would try to dress nice as much as he can. It just makes him feel good. So, he would wear a green blazer with his signature blue scarf and nice jeans. Everyone pokes fun at him for dressing up in college theater, where you will get dirty even as an actor, but he just says that's why washing machines were made.

Legend: Blue beanie (So original, I know) and a red zip-up jacket. I debated giving him a skirt, and I ended up on the decision of sometimes. It depends on what is going on in class that day. If it's simple and they are just learning about acting techniques, then he will. But if they are building sets or doing stage combat, he will wear some black pants. He also has a pair of brown boots he wears constantly.

Sky: Give Sky a sweater vest right now or help me, God. I just think he deserves it as a treat. He would pair it with a white button-up shirt and light jeans.

Hyrule: He was probably the easiest to come up with. He wears loose-fitting clothes he can move in. Something like cargo pants with a band t-shirt is probably his go-to.

Wild: Everything. The dude will wear anything and everything. Specific style? None. He just dresses how he's feeling for the day. If he had to have one specific outfit though, it would be his biker get-up. He may not think everything through, but motorcycle safety is very important, so he is sure to wear the correct pants, jacket, and helmet.

Four(s): The quadruplets have so many hoodies. Like it's a problem. They don't even know who's is who’s anymore, they just take whichever one they like and throw it on. They aren't picky about the rest of their outfit, usually just wearing some black pants and boots.

Wind: He has a collection of fun button-up shirts (me too). He wears shorts with some ratty shoes he should have thrown away forever ago, but he's emotionally connected to them. Also, just because I can, I'm going to say he has beach curls and freckles. He deserves a nice suntan.

[howlingday]

You know what would be hilarious? Chibi Ruby and Yang setting up their uncle Qrow with Milo Murphy as his mentor/life coach!

Chibi Qrow: *Melodramatic* Think you handle all the dark and broody baggage of THIS bad boy, kid?

Milo: *optimistic* Well, I don't know about that, but I sure will try my best! Which reminds me! How well can you pull off a skirt and pompoms?

Chibi Qrow: *Nervous Curiosity* ...who's asking?

Cue "Rooting for the Enemy" music montage...

Ruby: Do you think it's working?

The sister's watched as their uncle wore white and black face-paint with his mentor. The two were carrying pom-poms in their hands with the only contrast between them was the skirt Uncle Qrow wore compared to the baggy cargo shorts Mr. Murphy wore. For the unlucky adult of the two unluckies, memories came back from his Beacon days to haunt him since the last time a supposed "mentor" in cargo shorts convinced him to wear a mini-skirt as a way to impress the girls in school.

Yang: Yeah, I think it's definitely working.

[mmufanatic]

MMU Clothes Headcanons

Daisy

- Often wears leggings under skirts because she climbs stuff a lot.

-Likes Dr Martens

-Has a favourite denim jacket that's absolutely covered in badges.

- Always wears night dresses , hates pyjamas.

- Prefers skirts or dresses to trousers

- Sticks random things into her hair- flowers, sparkly pipe cleaners through her plaits, pretty tissue paper...

- Likes hair clips.

- Likes jewellery ( wears SO MUCH jewellery) and makeup (also helps her to fit in ).

Hazel

- Wears hair pins or clips a lot.

- Prefers jeans but wears skirts sometimes.

- Doesn't wear makeup because of the texture.

- Has a mac that she thinks looks really grown up and loves it.

- Has a pair of heeled boots but everyone teases her because she's still shorter.

- Doesn't wear jewellery (except for bracelets made by Beanie of course)

- Prefers dark colours but will wear bright colours occasionally.

Kitty

- Wears skirts, leggings or jeans, no preference.

- Likes shiny or sparkly hair clips.

- Loves jewellery ( Beanie makes her a lot of bracelets).

- Especially loves earrings, has her ears pierced.

- Loves makeup.

- Often wears pastel colours.

- Likes ballet flats except if it comes off her foot George or Lavinia will kick it so she has to hop to get it ( Beanie goes and gets it anyway).

Beanie

- Doesn't wear makeup ( Kitty tried to do it for her once and it didn't end well).

- Wears stuff with cute animals on it.

- Prefers skirts but likes leggings with oversized jumpers.

- Loves anything woolly or fluffy.

- Has a pair of boots that are fluffy on the inside and LOVES them.

- Wears a lot of bracelets because she loves making them.

- Her and Kitty sometimes add bits onto plain hair clips like paper flowers, so she wears them too.

- Wears dungarees.

- Definitely has a fluffy onesie.

Lavinia

- Wears Dr Martens

- Likes dark colours.

- HATES skirts and dresses.

- Wears cargo pants.

- Doesn't wear jewellery, except for a friendship bracelet that Beanie made for her.

- Has a lot of band t-shirts.

- No one is allowed to borrow her stuff. No one.

- Doesn't have that many clothes. George and Kitty have made it their mission to get her to go clothes shopping with them.

Amina

- Wears a lot of hoodies.

- Likes skirts and dresses.

- Wears leggings and fluffy boots a lot.

- Always wearing sandals or flip flops in the summer.

- Likes earrings but otherwise doesn't really wear jewellery.

- Has a pair of heels that Daisy keeps stealing.

- Only lets Daisy borrow her hoodies.

- She regrets this afterwards because Daisy will inevitably get ink on it or something.

- Daisy will desperately try to get the stain off before she gives it back ( while Hazel laughs at her) but Amina will always notice.

Alexander

- Wears jumpers and hoodies all the time but the sleeves are always too short.

- Daisy thinks that this is hilarious.

- Has too many beanie hats because he makes another one if he gets bored ( his gran taught him to knit and crochet).

- He makes a lot of them for Beanie purely because it's called a beanie and she thinks it's really funny.

- Has a lot of pyjamas with cute animals on or patterned- George makes fun of him for this.

- Has a lot of stuff knitted for him from his gran.

George

- His wardrobe is VERY full.

- His dad and Harold keep trying to persuade him to have a clear out but he never does.

- Often doesn't wear what's suitable for the weather ( wears a thin jacket in December).

- Makes impulsive fashion choices that he regrets later ( Daisy has a lot of pictures).

- Has a lot of stuff knitted for him by Alexander.

- Wears bracelets from Beanie.

- Let Daisy paint his nails once and is now trying to get up the courage to ask to borrow her eyeliner.

[dragynkeep]

Aight I just had several rwde revelations so imma just list them all here because what the fuck.

First of all why do the schools have uniforms? Like we're supposed to see the huntsman academies as like a private high school but the age range makes it more like college. So does that mean the 4th year 21 year old seniors still have to wear the silly school girl skirt blouse and jacket as adults? If there is a standard uniform why isn't it more unisex and more fitted for battle like combat boots, cargo pants, protective gloves and jacket. Like what that's just embarrasing.

Weiss and Yang's conversation back in volume 1 when looking for Blake, Weiss made a comment about worrying what Blake will say when they find her because in her words, "the innocent never run Yang." And that is such a privileged take, plenty of people who are not guilty are forced on the run because the system will do more harm if they let themselves be taken in. Also very hypocritical of Weiss since in a few seasons she sneaks out and runs away despite not technically doing anything really wrong or illegal either!

And in a similar vein when Ironwood sees Weiss in volume 4 and fucking bows to her and apologizes like sir what? She's not actual royalty and you know her in an informal sense what's with this weird bootlicking he's on the same social level as them. He could've acknowledged her in a normal way like good day Miss Schnee I'm glad to see you are well after the battle. Just what was that??????

fetishization of school outfits, specifically for school girls cause look how many upskirt glances we got when the main girls were in their uniforms & how fucking boring they were lmao. the fact that it's so gendered just reflects the fact this supposed "gender neutral / inclusive" world is also incredibly gendered & the misogyny that comes with that isn't exempt from the way the writers created this world.

also to the point that certain fans take umbrage with aus trying to be more inclusive of this aspect.

weiss very much showed the ideal of the writers in the "innocent don't run" mentality because we see this throughout the rest of the show & how the copaganda mentality perpetuates through the mains. that's why it's hilarious when people will throw sun under the bus when he's "stowing away" on the boat & propose this as a "valid" reason for why he faced the brutality from the human cops & then the unquestioned racism from one of our mains that was never resolved.

they just ended up throwing so much onto weiss that made her entirely unlikeable. james bowing to her & the quirky "jokes" of her riches as if they weren't gotten off the backs of exploited faunus & that the cop mentality through her from the writers hasn't entirely demonized the fandom is just awful to see. she's never held accountable, she's never made to change or even makes the attempt to do so, & in fact we get quirky jokes from her & blake, a supposedly oppressed faunus, about the riches of the schnees & how useful it is for them in that moment.

[itisannak]

Car Sex (Luke Hemmings Smut)

Summary: Luke and (Y/N), both college students, living with their parents, have to get creative to find some alone time. (Smut / Unprotected Sex /  Penetrative Sex / Public Sex / Creampie) (Words: 5.4k) (Request)

"Be back by 11:30." My dad shouts as I run down the stairs, heading to the door. "The movie ends at 12." I remind him, sighing over how strict he becomes when he knows I am going out with Luke. "12 it is then." He replies, peeking at me from his armchair. "I don't have classes tomorrow... And teleportation had yet to be invented last time I checked." I point out, crossing my arms before my chest. "Smarty-pants. If he brings you home a minute after 12:30, you are grounded." My dad tries to sound tough, but he is a big softie. I rush to him, leaving a peck on his cheek before strutting out of the door.

Luke has been waiting long enough in the car, longer than I would have the patience to wait for someone without pressing my hand on the horn. I did not expect to see him inside the parked pick-up park, but here I am, opening the passenger door to join him inside. "Wow, that is a first..." I comment, pressing my lips together to stop my laughter as soon as I am in. I just picture him as a hillibilly, chewing on a hay straw, and the mental image is enough to make me double over in laughter. "Shut up. My brother lent me it for the night." He explains, pulling out of the driveway. "Why does your brother have a truck?" I ask, pulling the seatbelt to fasten myself. "He works in constructions." He replies, turning his head for a quick peck on my forehead. "Right." I mumble. "What time does your curfew start?" He asks me, shifting the gears. "I have to be home at 12.30, not a minute later. It still fucks me up that I still have a curfew at 19 and you don't." I groan, crossing my arms. Luke shrugs, having a charming little smirk decorating his lips. "My parents had enough of setting rules for disobeying teenagers with my brothers, so I guess I had it easy, they never bothered placing one." He comments as I prop my elbow against the window's frame, supporting my head as I look at him. "There is no way your mother is that elastic with you. I had chills every time I walked into her class in high school." I really do exasperate, earning a laugh from Luke. I love it when he laughs; his face brightens up, and his dimples make him really irresistible, along with the crinkles around his eyes. I reach over, stroking a messy curl with my fingers, before pushing it off his forehead. "She is much chiller when you get to know her." He replies, resting his hand on my thigh. "I guess you are right." I sigh, feeling jittery at the way he touches me. "Pity I will have to take you home straight after the movie. I was hoping for some more time with you." He says in a low voice, almost like he fears getting heard. "It has been too long since the last time we had more time together." I reply. It would be a lie if I said I am not actively craving him. I still dream of his touch, the way he kissed me last time, the way he moved against me. "To be clear, I am talking about having sex." He explains and I chuckle, throwing my head back. "I am talking about having sex too, Luke." I reply, making him hum, pleased by my response. "We gotta do something about the housing situation." He sounds determined, which is just hilarious at this point. "Well, we are broke, college students who can only afford to live with their parents. I don't know if there is much we can do about it at this point." I reply, while his hand squeezes my inner thigh. "I am just... I just need more of you." He groans and I hum, feeling my stomach tighten at his words. "Can we talk about the movie? This is becoming... A little too intense for me." I bite my bottom lip, running my fingers through my hair. "Of course. They are showing the Texas Chainsaw Massacre." He states, letting his touch linger for a little longer before he removes his hand. I press my thighs together, trying to relieve some of the tension between them. It is hard for me to take my mind off Luke being inside me, kissing me, touching me, even with the prospect of watching a movie about cannibalistic psychopaths. "Why do you always pick horror movies for date night?" I groan, nudging his shoulder. "Because you always leave me in charge. And because the gore is the only thing stopping me from fantasizing about you." He replies, taking my hand in his and bringing it to his lips. "You fantasize about me?" I ask, feeling the tingly sensation making its way back. "All the time. My thoughts are just a never-ending movie of things I want to do with you... of things I want to do to you. And I am just trying to find ways to just pause that movie for a while." He admits. "Is the movie playing right now?" I ask, flushing as I wait for him to tell me. "You wanna know?" He asks and I nod at him, knowing my eyes are glistening with excitement. "Right now it shows the scene where it is Sunday morning, and we have just woken up, naked in bed. And I am just taking you in, in all your glory." He replies. "You are definitely giving me the PG-13 version right now." I point out and he shrugs. "I am keeping some of the good stuff for a little later." He winks at me, causing me to bite the inside of my cheek.

We purchase some popcorn and sodas from the drive-through kiosk before Luke finds the spot we are supposed to park. The back of the pick-up truck is facing the screen, which means we will have to get out of the car and climb onto the back. "I really want to see you try to get in the back, wearing that dress." Luke comments, picking up the snacks and getting out of the car. "I know you want to peek under my skirt, but gosh, don't be so obvious about it." I chuckle, hopping off the car. Luke waits for me in the back of the truck, holding his connected palms low, so I can step on them and go up the cargo bed. "You are a true gentleman..." I comment, leaving a peck on his cheek, before I step on his hands and he boosts me up. "Need help?" I ask him once I land just right. "I got it. Lay the blanket I have in there. And move the snacks, I don't want to knock them." He instructs, stepping onto the rim under the taillights. I hold the snacks tight as he steps in, dusting himself off. "This is actually nice." I admit, laying one of the blankets for us. "See? That will teach you not to laugh at me before you see my intentions." He comments, sitting down on the blanket, with his back against the divider. "You should be happy I am laughing. It means you make me happy." I reply and he hums. I take a seat between his thighs, leaning my head back on his shoulder, bringing my lips to his neck for a soft peck. "I promise to hold you tight at the scary parts." I whisper, knowing that I will spend the entirety of this movie with my face buried in his chest. "I will hold you up to that." He chuckles, leaving a peck on my forehead.

The night chill proves I am a fool for wearing a frilly little dress for the night screening. But luckily, Luke has predicted that and has brought a second blanket along, which now is covering our laps. "You look mighty cute in the cinema lights." Luke whispers, stroking my hair softly. "You are supposed to be focusing on the movie, not me." I laugh, trying to keep my voice low so I don't bother the rest of the viewers. "You are far more interesting than any movie." He replies, turning my head to plant a kiss on my lips. I smile against his lips, parting my mouth so he can slip his tongue past my lips. His hand softly grazes my face, and I then decide to turn around and straddle his lap. "You can't do that to me." He groans, throwing his head back. That gives me access to his neck, which I take advantage of and trail with kisses. "Why not?" I ask, pouting at him. "(Y/N), please... This is torturing. It has been too long since we had sex. I am craving you, and this is not helping me." He replies, while my hands move to his hair. "I am craving you too. I need you." I whine, earning a sigh. "I need you too. But we don't have the time nor the place to do that." He replies, and I shake my head. "What about right here, right now?" I ask, making him tilt his head and look at me, with eyes glazed in excitement. "You mean...?" "Who's going to see us? And don't say the movie is more interesting than me..." "Fuck the movie." He groans, bringing his hand to trace my thigh, stopping on the hem of my dress. "I'd rather you fuck me." I reply, earning a smirk from him. "This is risky." He comments and I shrug. "You love it, don't you?" I ask and he hums. He throws the lap blanket aside, laying me with my back on the blanket laid on the floor of the cargo bed. "You will have to be very quiet..." He states, stroking my cheek softly. "You are the one to talk..." I mumble before he leans down to kiss me.

He clumsily fumbles with the lap blanket, covering us for a mock discreteness, even though we both know a blanket will do nothing. He roams his hands from my face to my sides and then retires them on my thigh. I prop my leg up, wrapping it around his waist. "You are so soft." He moans against my mouth, squeezing my thigh softly. My lips curl into a smile, feeling goosebumps crawl onto my skin. "Oh shit." He groans, making me look at him with a furrow on my brow. "What? What happened?" I ask, watching as his face twists in frustration. "Condoms are in the glove compartment. I have to go back in the car." He groans, throwing his head back. "It is ok... We don't need one." I state, feeling my core becoming warm at the thought of him sliding inside me bare. "Are you sure about this?" He asks me and I nod. "It is not a risky day. I need you." I almost beg, causing him to chuckle at me, as his hands work his pants to free his cock. "I will just... Push your panties aside... No one will know what we are doing." He mutters, spreading my legs more, propping them around his waist. Blindly and clumsily, he tries to line up his tip to my entrance. The only lights come from the light poles around the parking space, and of course, the projector playing the movie, so there is almost only darkness surrounding us. Luke finally manages to slip inside me, moving slowly so the car doesn't rattle and bring any suspicion on us. "Shit, you feel good." He whispers by my ear, planting a peck on my earlobe. He buries his face in my neck, nibbling on my skin as he begins rocking his hips on mine. It takes me a moment to get my mind off the catastrophic thought that we are going to get caught, but the moment the first moan slips from his lips, I feel chills crawl down my spine. "Oh, God." I mumble, finally feeling his cock stretching me, with each thrust making me wetter and wetter. "Shh, we have to be quiet, remember?" He playfully reminds me, passing his tongue over the spot he was sucking on a second ago. "Buzzkiller." I whisper, but it soon turns into a gasp as he thrusts his whole cock inside me, making me pulse around him. I have to bring my hand to my mouth as Luke backs out and thrusts in again, this time with more force than before. I bite onto my palm, preventing myself from making a sound as Luke tries to find a rhythm for us. We both know this cannot last as long as the last time did; in contrast to the time we stayed up all night fucking, we will now have to be done in less than 10 minutes. "The way you take my cock is going to be the death of me." He mumbles as I buck my hips up to meet his thrusts, trying to find an angle for his cock to hit my spot. Luke groans softly, placing a hand under the small of my back to support me. "We are fucking under the stars." I giggle softly, squeezing myself around him. "I am going to find us a house, I promise you that." He slams his hips on mine, making the car move a little. "Careful." I groan, but the way he is rocking his hips on mine makes my mind fuzzy around the edges. We have to pray the people around us are too focused on the movie, or else we are putting on a show for them. Luke brings on hand from under my back to my cheek, touching it softly. "You feel so good around me, baby." He says raspily as I move my hips in a soft circle. The top of his cock brushes against my clit and I feel myself tighten around him. I muffle a whimper, closing my eyes tightly to focus on anything else but the way he feels inside me. "I can feel you here." I grab his hand and let it press on my lower stomach, right at the nook where I feel the impact of his thrusts. Luke strokes his thumb over that spot, giving me a slow, deep thrust, looking mesmerized by the way my stomach inflates and falls as he fucks me. His hand travels under my dress, heading straight to my breasts, cupping them and stroking his thumbs over my nipples. I whimper and shudder, bucking my hips against his and taking his cock more inside me. "You are going to fuck yourself on my cock, princess?" He asks cockily, pinching my nipple between his fingers, pulling at it sadistically slow. "Will you fill me up, daddy?" I ask him back; two can play this game. I can see his eyes sparkle at my question, even in the dark night. "Shit, (Y/N)... I am going to cum..." Luke groans by my ear, making me tighten around him in surprise. "Cum, please. I want to feel all of you inside me..." I groan, my mind becoming clouded by my need for him. "But you are not there yet..." Luke protests. "You have a mouth, don't you?" I ask him, heaving for breath. Luke chuckles and looks at me amused, before slamming his hips on mine, pinning me down to ravage me. Luke brings his face to my neck, muffling himself by biting onto my skin. I gasp in shock, the slight sting of pain sending waves of electricity down my body. "I am going to fucking wreck you... I am going to fucking ruin you for everyone else. You are mine... Just mine. " He groans, gluing his hips on mine as he cums, hissing as he reaches his high. It takes him a moment of grunting and breathing funny before he cups my face and kisses me harshly. "I am going to make you feel good, princess. I promise." His voice is still heavy and groggy from his orgasm, and he sounds so chillingly sexy, contrasting the loud chainsaw buzzing that goes off every couple of minutes in the movie.

He parts from my lips and slides down my body, spreading my legs more and fixing himself between my thighs. He traces my slit softly, watching me as I still pulse from the loss of contact. He uses his fingers to part my lips, revealing my entrance and my clit to him. He wastes no time lapping up his tongue on my sex, moaning as he tastes us mixing together. I smile to myself and look up at the night sky, taking in the pretty little stars as Luke curls his tongue on my entrance, gathering the pooling wetness and his cum on the tip of his tongue. He brings the tip to my clit, teasing it in slow, agonizing circles, making me jolt at every single one of them. Once he sees I am teased to a sufficient level for his liking, he wraps his lips around my clit, suckling on it hungrily. My breath gets caught in my lungs and I am baffling between bringing my hand to my mouth to stop any sounds from escaping or tangling my fingers in his hair, pulling at his locks, and guiding his mouth where I need him. "Luke..." I whine, messing my fingers in his hair, contrasting the intensity that courses through my body with the softness of his curls. Luke hums in approval, flicking his tongue against the head of my clit. I press my lips together and roll my hips in the air as my orgasm explodes inside me, spreading on my body. I try my hardest not to make a sound, nor move too much that the car squeaks. Luke moves up from between my thighs after he fixes my panties over my core. He leans in, kissing my lips softly. I realize that I have been smiling since I hit my orgasm, but only after Luke mimics my smirk. "I am going to find us a house." He announces again, tracing his hand softly over my cheek. "Yeah, we need one." I agree, moving my tongue across my bottom lip, tasting us together. "Do you think anyone saw us?" Luke asks, rolling next to me. I fix my head upon his chest, letting myself hear his heartbeat. "As long as we do not end up on a pornsite, I am not that mad if they did." I reply and he chuckles. "Kinky... I like that about you." "You like what about me?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow. "You are always up for testing your limits." He replies and I hum. "I wish we could sleep together tonight." He sighs, pecking at the top of my head. "I think my dad will neuter you if you show up at my house for a sleepover. And your mom will probably bound me in your basement and torture me for seducing her benjamin." I giggle and he scoffs. "My mom is not a monster." Luke protests playfully. "I don't know. Her nickname was Charybdis in high school." I mumble and he punches my arm playfully.

"Will you call me before bed?" Luke asks me as he parks in front of my house. "Do you want me to?" I ask him, undoing my seatbelt. "Since I can't sleep with you tonight, at least I would like us to do it over facetime." He shrugs, tapping the tip of my nose softly. "I will certainly facetime you then. I will see you on Tuesday, won't I?" I ask and he nods. "Ok then. Talk to you in a bit." I bite my lip before I lean in to plant a soft peck on his lips. He waits until I am inside the house to take off, which brings a smile to my face. He cares a lot and he is really protective, without crossing any boundaries. "Did you have fun at the movies?" My dad asks, making me jump at the sound of his voice. He has stayed exactly where I left him, which is a little creepy. "You scared the shit out of me, dad." I gasp, touching my chest and feeling my heart pounding. "We saw the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Not really my style, but it was ok." I reply and he hums. "If you wake up screaming in the middle of the night because you had a nightmare, I will know who to blame." He goes back to watching TV. It is not a secret that my dad does not really like Luke; he thinks of him as a devil in the disguise of an angel. "Goodnight dad." I run up the stairs to take off my makeup and get ready for my night call with Luke.

I tap my fingers nervously as I wait for Luke to pick me up. We are supposed to head for a dinner date, but I am not sure we will go through with it. Luke's car pulls up in front of me, and I rush inside, earning a look of surprise from him. "I was ready to wait for you at least 15 more minutes." Luke chuckles, helping me with my seatbelt. "Can you find a space somewhere a bit private?" I ask him, earning a hum from him. "I will be happy to..." He starts the car, aloof to my jitters.

Luke parks behind an elementary school, which seems abandoned for the day, before he undoes his seatbelt and turns to look at me. "It will do for now, don't you think?" Luke asks, cocking an eyebrow at me. "We need to talk." I state, making his face drop. "Oh. That sounds a little ominous." He replies and I nod my head. "I am late." I just let it out, dropping the bomb on his lap now. "Late for what? Do you have to be somewhere before our date?" He asks. I roll my eyes and rest my head back on my seat. "Luke..." I sigh. "What?" He asks, frustrated over my reaction. "My period is late. I might be pregnant." I explain and he looks at me dumbfounded. "Are you sure?" He manages to utter after a second of just staring. "My tracker says I am a week late. And I am never late, not this long. I am freaking out." I sniffle, my hands bunching up my cardigan. Luke stays silent, starting the car again. I feel awful in this silence but I understand he needs time to process it. It took me two days to swallow this, he deserves at least a couple of minutes to even begin thinking about it. It itches me on the inside to just ask him to say anything, but I decide to control myself. Without a word, he parks the car in front of a pharmacy and exits the car. It would make more sense for him to slam the door on the way out, but he didn't. I cannot find a way to translate his coldness and it pains me to sit here without a clue. He is gone for a little over 10 minutes but it felt a century to me. I don't dare ask him what he bought, so the car sinks in silence again.

The next stop is at a totally strange house to me. Luke helps me undo the seatbelt, still silent, and motions me to follow him. He unlocks the door to an apartment, letting me go in first. "What is this place?" I finally have the courage to ask once we enter the poorly furnished place. "I told you I would find us an apartment. I wanted to tell you at dinner, but I guess..." He replies, handing me the paper bag from the pharmacy. "Is it what I think it is?" I ask and he nods. "Luke, I am scared." I admit and he sighs. He wraps his arms around me, pressing his lips softly on my forehead. "I am too. But we need to face our fear. Or it will catch upon us." He replies, stroking a piece of hair behind my ear. "Come on. I will be right outside." He guides me to the small bathroom, giving me a small smile before I shut the door. It is such a lonely process doing this. I know Luke is waiting for me, I know that he is here for me, right outside the door that divides us, but I feel so alone. It is nerve-wracking, having to wait even a moment for the test that will define the rest of my relationship with Luke. There is a soft knock on the door, Luke's knuckles must barely even touch the wooden furniture. "Did you do it?" He asks nervously, but not demandingly. "I am waiting for the result." I sniffle. "Would you like me to come in and wait with you?" He asks. "No. I will be out in a minute..." I am too upset myself to have Luke's nervousness right now. "Ok, love." He sighs, giving up. I know he is trying to comfort me and this is the best way he can think of doing so, but it is just... I don't know if it is too much or too little.

The timer goes off and I know that I have to face the little plastic stick at last. It is so stupid that I am terrified by a piece of plastic, but I feel a tug at my heartstrings just at the thought of what the result might be. I peek at it, finding the word 'PREGNANT' on the little digital screen. Fuck. "Can I come in?" Luke asks. He must have heard the timer too so he knows the test has shown a result. I am too emotional to answer him, all I want to do is cry. How did that happen? Fuck, why did it happen now? We were always careful and we barely ever had a place to be just the two of us. God, that night at the drive-in... I was stupid enough to tell him it didn't matter going bare. Luke barges into the bathroom after my lack of response, his eyes instantly falling on me. He sighs understandingly, moving closer to me and wrapping his arms around me. "It's ok... It's all ok, love. Please, stop crying." He tries to soothe me, but it will take more than a hug and his soft voice to calm me down. "I've ruined both our futures..." I moan, my voice barely coming off. "No, no, you didn't. It is my fault too. Hey, we are going to be alright. She's gonna be apples, you'll see." He cheers, rubbing the small of my back soothingly.

My obstetrician could only see me 2 days after I took the test. Despite me wanting to rush to the first person with an available appointment, Luke told me that 2 days wouldn't hurt and we should go to the one I trust. And now as I am feeling in the form of family history and reason of the visit, Luke is sitting next to me, almost completely unfazed, as if his life is not about to tumble down. "How can you be so calm?" I ask him, annoyed by how cool he seems. "I am not." He replies, not even turning to look at me. "You are. You are awfully calm and cool for someone who is going to be a father before he finishes college." I whisper the last part, even though it is just us in the waiting room. I have been tiptoeing around admitting my pregnancy, not even daring to say it to myself out loud. "You think I am not panicking? You think I am not about to have a nervous breakdown? But I have to keep calm and be here for you. You are a mess, (Y/N)." He says through gritted teeth. "Well, I am sorry this is too much for me. I will try my hardest not to let my mess affect you." I snap, moving to a chair away from him. "I didn't mean it that way..." He protests and I hum, scribbling on the form fast.

The doctor calls me in her office, finally ready to exam me. Luke follows suit, asking her if it is ok to join us too. "Is it ok with you, (Y/N)?" She turns to me. "I really couldn't care less." I mumble, climbing onto the exam bed. Luke walks in, standing in the corner of the room awkwardly. "I will need you to take your jeans and underwear off for this." She instructs me and I nod. "Your urine sample gave us a positive pregnancy test, so I will have to go transvaginally to see the fetus. We have done this in the past, but you will feel slight discomfort when I enter the prob." She states, prepping the little wand. I feel as if I want to throw up, this ordeal has been stressing me out a lot. "Ok. Are you ready?" She asks as I lay on my back. I nod my head and take a deep breath, boosting myself for the exam. Pushing past the initial discomfort, I turn to look at my doctor as she looks at the screen with a frown. "Do you have any symptoms?" She asks me, looking at the ultrasound carefully. "No, other than my period being late, no." I reply and she hums. "You took a home test?" "Yes, it came back positive. Is everything ok?" I ask her. "Well, you are not pregnant. But you have a positive home test and a urine stip test. So my guess is there is proteinuria and that is why we had 2 false positives. I will order you a lab work for that, just to rule things out, but I think it might be stress-related." She replies. "I am not pregnant?" I ask, my heart skipping in relief. "You are not." She replies. "Are you sure?" Luke asks for the first time since the exam started. "I am very certain you are not expecting. Based on your reactions I will say congratulations, you are not pregnant." She chuckles, handing me a couple of tissues to clean up. "I will leave you to get dressed and go order the lab test. You can pick it up from my receptionist." She smiles at us before she leaves the room.

After the doctor's visit, I was craving ice cream, so Luke drove me to my favorite place for a strawberry soft serve. Since our date night was canceled from my pregnancy scare, we decided to take advantage of the nice weather and take a stroll at the park. He holds my hand in his as we both lick our ice cream as if the last couple of days didn't happen. "We are not having sex again without a condom." I lean my head on his shoulder as he hums in agreement. "That is certain." He adds. "I am sorry I was so... messy the last couple of days." I apologize and he shrugs. "It is one of the things I love about you." He brings my hand to his lips, pecking it lightly. "For what is worth, you were an excellent partner and you handled this scare probably the best way possible." I comment and he sighs. "I was scared beyond words. We are too young to become parents." "I agree. We barely have a place to be alone..." I point out. "Well, we do have it, though." He says, making me bite the inside of my cheek. "I really liked the space, from what I remember seeing..." "I am glad you did. Cause I plan on spending a lot of time in it with you." He plants a kiss on my forehead, making me feel my face get hot. "We never learn, do we?" I chuckle and he shrugs. "I think we learned our lesson." He takes a long lick of his dessert.

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[jangofctts]

Don’t Push Your Luck (Boba Fett x Reader)

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 4.9k wooF

Warnings: smut, language, handjobs, oral (male receiving), fingering, heavy petting, there is SOFT. I REPEAT SOFT FLUFF. but only SOME 

Chapter (1), (2)

a/n: hey y’all...welcome...finally this bITCH IS OUT. thanks to @djxrxn​ WHOMST HAVE BEEN THE MAIN MOTIVATOR BEHIND THIS. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH 💖🥵🤠 

(also lmk if you wanna be tagged or just wanna YELL at me)

It’s impossible not to count down the days, the hours, the seconds leading up to your untimely end. A sleep cycle and half to be exact. A perfect amount of time to finish counting each loose wire and rusty screw holding together this heap of junk—a miracle really, that it’s able to jump to hyperspace, let alone fly.       

You’re no expert on the inner workings of a spacecraft, but your familiarity with Imperial grade cruisers gift you the impeccable skill of deducing that the hiss of air every couple minutes out of the hydraulic piping is not ideal. Nor is the solar light overhead that flickers and hums, skirting the precarious line of exploding in your face or simply plunging the cargo hold into murky darkness. 

At this point you’d take either.  

You sigh, resting the back of your head against the wall as the barbed tendrils of an oncoming headache settles behind your eyes.    

  Between that, the stupid light, and your boredom; it’s enough to make anyone stir crazy. Stars—even the arduous task of talking to Boba Fett is morphing into something akin to craving. Even if his idea of a conversation runs parallel to the art of smug, male pride and snide words meant to pick and prod—it’s better than whatever this is. 

Scoffing, you curl your knees up to your chest and rest your chin over your knee. This is pathetic. 

You should despise him—feel like kicking his teeth in—or helmet—whatever. He aided in the killing of you friend—probably took care of all the other poor souls who even dared to breathe your way too. Boba Fett is a despicable, no good bounty hunter who finds far too much fun in the misfortune of others.  

And yet… 

The task of attaching your hate to the man is proving to be more difficult than you would’ve guessed. You don’t regret what you’ve done with him—far from it in fact—but your tolerance, bordering enjoying his company, is concerning. To say in the least.   

Nothing good will come out of the conflicted ball of knots that settle in your chest, ensnaring your heartstrings into that endless monstrosity. 

Though none of it stops the way your chest constricts, heart skipping a few vital beats at the familiar sound of his spurs resonate through the ship. They chink against the metal pegs of the ladder, boots settling on the ground with a heavy thump. A moment later Boba steps into your line of sight, tattered cloak and chipped armor in all its battered glory. 

He isn’t an immanent threat, but your eyes still track each movement. The rational part of you knows he won’t lash out, but you’re still his quarry and even a wolf with a severed head has the power to bite. No part of you wants to brave the sharp points of his teeth.  

Not even a fraction of his attention is thrown your way as he does his routine inspections of your fellow captured quarries, frozen in their carbonite prisons. You just hope none of them spontaneously reanimate—you’re not too keen on another shipmate. Your little corner is crowded as is and forget sharing your blanket. It’s tattered and smells like dust and mothballs and you have a sneaking suspicion it’s just one of Boba’s old cloaks he outgrew—but you’re thankful for it anyhow. 

You flinch as he punches in a code, the loud grate of metal on metal piercing your ears as the carbonite slabs swing back into their storage space. With an incline of his head, his weighted gaze settles on your person.

“Still nervous?”

You sniff and shake your head. “You just…startled me is all.�� 

Boba snorts in disbelief and pads closer. He reaches the toes of your boots and squats, one gloved forearm resting over his knee as the other reaches out to capture a lock of your hair. He twirls it between his fingers and gently tugs, quiet as he studies you behind the visor. The action is familiar—doesn’t scare you as much as it once did, but his closeness still overwhelms. 

“I see you’ve found some courage, gentle Rabbit,” he surmises, untangling his fingers from your hair to tap beneath your chin. “While we’re at it…any last favors I can provide?” 

It’s whiplash—so stupefying it renders your tongue speechless, a heated blush rushing up your cheeks and to the tip of your ears. He snickers and shakes his head, rocking back onto his heels to stand as you sputter for words. 

It’s a joke—a garbage one at your expense. Always at the butt-end of things with no room to snap back. Yet, as he turns on his heel to return to the cockpit—it’s the perfect opportunity. Not the sort of favor he’d be expecting, but a favor nonetheless. 

“Can I—“ He pauses and casts a glance over his shoulder as you muster enough bravery to follow through. “Do you think I could—could sit in the cockpit? Just for a little while…” 

It’s a long-shot—like launching a flimsy javelin at a target no larger than a thumbtack three thousand clicks away. Not happening—more likely to beat a rancor in a fucking wrestling match then sway the bounty hunter’s opinion. Regardless, the question must stun him—the terse silence drags on for an agonizing amount of time, amping up your anxiety tenfold. 

“I’m sorry—I just—I wanted to see the stars one last time,” you mumble, curling into yourself with a wince. “It’s stupid—“     

“It’s hyperspace—not much to look at.” He curtly interrupts. “An asteroid if you’re lucky.” 

Your spirits plummet further—scraping against the dirt like a crashed speeder geared to the highest velocity and headed straight for a brick wall. Maker this was dumb—

“The second you try anything funny—“

You perk up, your spine straightening as he turns swiftly on his heel and marches back. He leans down at the waist, firmly ensnaring your chin between his forefinger and thumb, straining the muscles in your neck. “—you’ll end up in there.” 

He jerks his head over his shoulder at the carbonfreezer. Yeah. No thank you. Absolutely zero interest in becoming a human popsicle. 

“You won’t even notice I’m there,” you breathe, holding your stare steady. “Promise.” 

Boba hums in thought, releases your chin and pats your cheek. He straightens and taps at his vambraces and with a hiss of air the stasis cuffs around your wrists clatter to the floor. You stand and sigh, rubbing at the angry raised lines, just shy from a dark bruise.   

The bounty hunter ushers you towards the ladder, his hand anchored to your shoulder. You stop yourself from scoffing. The action is useless—you’ve got no clever scheme up your sleeve or malicious motive but you can never be too cautious you suppose—not with this line of work.  

You try not to snoop once you clamber up into the second level—but Maker—it’s interesting. There’s a small bunk on the other end of the short corridor, messy blankets thrown on top and a deconstructed blaster that’s seen better days. Gray and off-white undershirts hang off the metal rigging on the bunk and the sight of his laundry is undoubtedly jarring. It’s silly not to think he doesn’t do laundry but—imagining the most feared bounty hunter in the Galaxy washing his tidy whities is hilarious.

“Come on,” Boba urges, nudging your shoulder with his own.

Your tiny smile never falters as he leads you into the domed cockpit, the neon blue of hyperspace reflecting across his chipped armor with miniature streaks of light. He gestures at the co-pilot’s seat tucked beside the com board, a litany of buttons blinking and flashing as you gingerly sit. 

The hinges squeak as the chair spins, your eye catching the mess of beaded and jeweled necklaces that hang on a tiny hook above the board. You recognize a few—Kashyykian ceremonial beads, the glittering coil of pure, refined diamonds from Pantora and the braided strands of bantha leather common on Tatooine. Your fingers drift up and thumb at the carved wooden Wroshyr beads. 

Trophies—

“Don’t touch those.”

You jump and yank your hand back. “So...all I can do is...sit?” 

“Isn’t that what you asked for?” 

You have to agree—there isn’t much to look at. Hyperspace, as fascinating as it is, looses its charm once the vertigo sets in. To be honest—you weren’t expecting to get this far. 

Oh well. 

A change in scenery is always nice. Different loose wires and screws to count…

And the seat spins. Score. 

Boba however, does not share in your bemused sentiments. Your mopey sighing and the constant squeak of loose bearings on your spinny chair is not pleasant to the ear, apparently.   

“If you’re that bored, Rabbit,” he sighs, casting a sharp glance over his shoulder. “You could always put those hands to work.” 

You pause and swipe a finger through the dust between the toggles on the comm board and absentmindedly respond. “I don’t think I’d be much help. I’m not very technically inclined and oh—“

Your cheeks flush when he tilts his head. “You, uh...didn’t mean that sort of work, did you?” 

Boba snorts and crosses his ankle over his knee and rests his helmet on the headrest. The stretched out figure of his body is alluring—fascinating to studying each nick and scratch on his armor without the repercussions of him staring back. His vambraces clink against his cuirass as he laces his fingers together, resting his hands just above his codpiece.      

“Do you need something, Rabbit?” 

You swallow, your eyes flicking back up to a more respectable place for them to linger. “Um..n-no. I’m fine. Just…”

He rolls his head to the side, the shadows from hyperspace carving out the sharp lines of his helmet into an even deeper dramatic cut. You squirm and focus your eyes on the frayed laces of your boots.  

“It’s alright. You can tell me, sweet girl.” His goads, tempting you out onto that slippery slope of desire. 

He uncross his legs and uses the tip of his boot to languidly spin himself around, his knees spread wide in a display of mock easiness. Boba’s thumbs drum against his ammo belt, the quiet, rhythmic tap…tap…tap…the only sound filling the charged silence. It’s the Academy all over again; sat down and scrutinized until you crack—spill every secret until they’re satisfied— and Boba Fett is no different…   

You scramble for words, wrangling your thoughts into something somewhat comprehensive.  “I’m—I—well—“

He cocks his head, light bouncing off the silvery pockmark on his helmet. Boba’s hand idly travels lower, brushes off imaginary dust on his thigh and settles his fingers over the clasps to this codpiece. His thumb flicks it open then closed, all too keen on where your eyes are glued to.    

“You want your hands on my cock again? Is that it?” Boba purrs in amusement. You tongue passes over your lip as you wrench your eyes off of him yet again. 

“There’s no need to be play coy, girl,” Boba snickers, “Tell me.”   

The words jump out of your mouth—no forethought and apparently not an ounce of self control. “Yes—I want...to p-put my hands on you.”  

“On me or my cock?” 

You mouth goes dry as you mumble out a feeble agreement. “Your…cock.”

Boba huffs in self satisfaction. “Come here then.”   

On already shaky legs you stumble out of your seat and plant yourself in front of him. You have no visual confirmation but the hair-raising sensations as his eyes rake down your body sends shivers up your spine. 

Your mouth parts, but before you’re even able to ask what he wants—he beats you to it. 

“Your choice, Rabbit.” 

Not helpful, you think.  

Regardless of the lack of direction, you chew on the inside of your cheek and slowly lower yourself onto your knees, sliding easily between his parted legs. The only indication you know he’s aware you’re there is a quick shift of his hips, settling further into the leather cushion.    

His leg jumps involuntarily as your fingers skim up his knee. If you weren’t interested in receiving a lovely black eye, you’d have the nerve to accuse him of being ticklish. 

Biting the corner of your lip to stave off your coy smile, your hand continues its path up along his inner thigh. There’s a short huff of air that filters through the vocoder as your fingertips reach the codpiece. They brush over the circular dent left by a blaster, curiosity piqued at the strange location. 

You want to ask—but—the thought is fleeting, far more interested in finding the tiny clasps on the side that easily pop open, the offending piece of armor going lax in your grip. You toss it to the side with little hesitation, greeted by the firm outline of his cock filling out the front of his trousers. 

Boba Fett is not a patient man and your lecherous gawking, enough to notice, irks him. With a grunt he snakes his fingers around your hand and presses it against his cock. He rolls his hips, guiding your hand into applying a firmer touch until you’re palming him without the extra help. You give the hardening flesh a rougher squeeze, a bolt of liquid heat settling in the pit of your stomach as a stifled moan reaches your ears. 

By the time your hand sweeps up to ease off the heavy ammo belt around his waist, the bulge in his pants is considerable—a fucking pain to maneuver around as you tug down his trousers into a dramatic ‘v’. Boba’s hand, hanging off the arm rest, jerks the moment your fingertips brush along the dark curls, trailing up and taking a hold of his cock with a careful grip.  

He’s heavy in your hand, thicker than the circumference of your forefinger and thumb pressed together, and harder than kriffing durasteel. You can feel his watchful gaze carve a burning path over the contours of your face, drifting to where you hold him. 

He grumbles an inaudible complaint under his breath, curling his fists by his sides. Despite his obvious irritation with your feathery touches, he lets you continue without so much as a grumpy sigh or snippy redirection. You preen at the small victory, delighted you’re able to explore before the short rope of his patience runs thin and snaps. 

A sharp hiss of hair passes through the vocoder as you lightly tug on his cock, mesmerized by the firmness and the searing heat beneath your palm. From the base up you pull, fixed upon the dark flesh, flushed and pulsing as wetness pools at the tip as you pull down the foreskin, exposing the entirety of the wide head.

With your thumb you spread the bead of liquid around, intent on continuing your little exploratory endeavor until Boba shifts and grumbles out an order to stop. 

“Not like that,” he huffs, laying his fingers over yours that hold his cock. “Harder.” 

A fiery blush licks at your cheeks as he squeezes both sets of fingers into a firm fist, leading your hand into the pace he desires. 

It’s rough, much firmer than you’d think would be pleasurable—but you oblige. The wetness that dribbles from the flushed tip lessens the friction but with quick lick over your palm, he glides easily in your hand. Boba’s head rolls back against the headrest, exposing a sliver of brown skin beneath the lip of his helmet. 

It’s not long before your wrist aches—just shy of a couple moments. Luckily enough for you and your poor hand musculature, it doesn’t take more than a handful of minutes—rough and with no real discernible technique other than just fucking into your fist. Boba’s knee jerks as he lifts his head and arches his hips, chest heaving with shallow inhales.    

“Take it in your—in your mouth,” he orders in a rough rasp. His chest heaves as his hand finds purchase in your hair, jerking your head closer to his cock. It stings—Maker, why does he pull so hard? 

With a huff, you listen and part your lips. The tip of his cock slips into your heated mouth, twitching as your tongue rolls against the small slit leaking a near continuous stream of precum. With a couple short tugs and a gentle suck around the head, his fist clenches tight and drags you further down his shaft.

You gag around him, a low grunt rattling through his diaphragm as he cums. It’s warm, thick and fills your mouth, but the heavy weight on the back of your head leaves you no other choice than to swallow. Boba curses, cock still twitching when he lets you up and pulls out of your mouth. You gasp for precious air as you wipe off your lips with your sleeve, sparring a look up at the bounty hunter.   

The reclined figure of his body molds into the chair, a strip of dark skin peeking out from beneath the cowl has his head rests back against the seat. His fingers twitch when you shift, squirming as the twisting heat in your lower stomach festers and grows. 

You watch his throat bob as he speaks, “If you want something...take it.” 

The hard enamel of your teeth cut into your bottom lip as you carefully rock forward, dragging yourself off the ground. It takes a moment to shuck off your pants and perch yourself over his knees after shimming his trousers further down his legs. Boba only bothers to look up with lazy interest once your cunt, soaked and smeared over your inner thighs presses against his upper legs, wetting the muscled limbs. 

You steel your nerves against the sharp analytical gaze through the carved lines of his vizor and give your hips a tentative roll along the length of his softening cock. For all you know he could be asleep—yet you have a sneaking suspicion as to what his eyes are glued to. You’re no idiot.  

Boba’s gloved fingertips skim up your thigh, tempted to go higher but instead they drop back onto the armrests. You chew the inside of your lip, shooing away the urge to frown. Whatever—dwelling upon the quick movement is best left in the dark.

He sucks in a sharp breath of air as you rock your hips for a second time, your slick folds gliding smoothly along his member. It’s a light pressure, no more than a gentle caress so as not to overwhelm—but nonetheless still pleasurable, sating that untamable fire that burns bright in your belly. 

Your eyes drift back to those white gloves, his fists balled and stationary on the armrest. You want them on you. You want to feel his callouses scrape over your skin—one last craving you need to put an end to. 

It’s a risk—a big one. Yet, throwing your worries out the window is easier than your indecisiveness.

Both your hands slowly crawl over the white gloves, cautious in pulling them off as if he were some rabid Nexu ready to bite. He is, in a way and your sneaky little ploy certainly does not go unnoticed. 

Boba jerks his hands up the arm rests. “What makes you think you’re allowed to touch me?”

His tone is scathing—knocks you so far off that small pedestal of bravery you’ve mustered and leaves you wilting. You should’ve known, stopped while you were ahead. Though knowing in the back your mind that something like this would happen, doesn’t take away from the razor sharp embarrassment that cuts through your chest.

Your forearm shoots up to rub away the burning itch of tears that threaten to fall, your head turning away in a mixture of shame and regret. Stupid—

You’re about to retreat, slide off his lap like a miserable pile of goo, but the delicate touch on your chin, coaxing you to face him startles you. Even more so when he tugs at the offending glove and brushes a bare finger down your cheek, a mere whisper against your skin. “You have a soft heart.” 

Your heart leaps into your throat, your pulse roaring in your ears as he slips the other glove off, settling one of his bare hands over the swell of your hip while the other tentatively slip between your legs and presses against your clit. You gasp and arch into the light touch, your thighs involuntarily jerking as he increases the pressure. 

He trades his hold on your hip to slide his hand into your shirt, palming and kneading your breast through your bra as you roll and whine against his fingers. The tight circles he's drawing over your clit burns through your abdomen, drags you closer to the precipice that you’re all ready so close to. You whine his name as wicked heat licking up your body and spreading to each limb. You arch into him and with a firm hand, he parts your soaking cunt and thrusts two of his fingers inside, grinding the heel of his palm into the little bundle of nerves. 

With a chuckle his hand leaves your shirt to pull you against his chest, the vocoder rumbling against your ear. “Good little Rabbit—cum on my fingers.”

Your body seizes as white hot heat sears through your core. Stars, brighter than a dying sun burst behind your eyes, a long whine filtering past your lips as shake and fall apart in his arms, your cunt clenching tight around his fingers. 

You whine as he pulls out, little aftershocks of pleasure wracking through your body after your euphoric high. You’re barely conscious of your actions as he lifts your head and pushes his digits, coated in your juices into your mouth. You lick them clean, tasting the tang of your own arousal and the salt on his skin. With a satisfied hum, he slips them out, allowing your head to finally rest against his chest.   

His hands are warm around your hips, tracing little patterns into the exposed skin—so light you’re sure you’re imagining it. You chide yourself—there’s no space for these kind of things. Not now.   

The beskar is an uncomfortable thing to lay your cheek on—cold too—yet his soft sigh convinces you to stay put. Just for another second, suspended in a strange intimacy that neither of you should be dipping your toes into. 

A gentle hush encompasses the cockpit, lulling you into a light doze. Though as your eyes struggle to stay open, the subtle inhale before a sentence is spoken keeps them from shutting. You wonder if he’ll muster the courage to speak or if he’ll let the words settle back into that lake teeming with uncovered mysteries and things better left unsaid.     

“What would you do...” The beginning of his words tapers off as if he could pretend you wouldn’t hear it. It’s low, almost...uncertain. Well, as uncertain as Boba Fett could be with a head so full of his arrogance and pride. 

His fingers drift higher up your back, ghostlike and teasingly soft.You hate the goosebumps that are left in the wake of his bare fingertips crawling up your spine. Swallowing, your fingernail taps at the chipped paint and circles the little brand on his cuirass. “Do what?” 

He doesn’t answer right away—chewing on his words like they’ve stuck to the roof of his mouth and don’t intend to leave. He shifts and you’re afraid he’s about to shove you off his lap and storm away, but all he does is clear his throat and settle a palm on your upper back. “If I...if I let you go. What would you do?” 

Your brows furrow, your heart kicking up into a rapid flurry of panic. That’s not fair—that’s not fair of him to say. You look up, your own twisted features staring back at you in the muted spectrum of blacks and grays in his visor. This is a joke—another one of his games to push you over the edge while he gets to bask in his idea of proclaimed hilarity. “That’s not funny.” 

“It’s not supposed to be.” 

You ball your hand into a fist as a tidal wave of resentment, followed with chilly anguish washes over you. Your head spins and battles with opposing opinions and reasons why he should just go through with delivering you to his employer. Be done with it and get his moneys worth without any consequence. 

And yet, there’s a minuscule part of you, sprouting away from the dark cloud of inevitability, that wonders. Wonders if you should fight—convince him you deserve to live, untangle you from the disastrous web the Empire has cast around your limbs with no hope of escape. You sigh and shut your eyes. 

“I’d never escape from the Empire even if you did,” you murmur. “The only time I’d be free is if I were dead.”

                                             <><><><><><><><>

He promised himself that this would never happen. 

Never let his own desires and emotions interfere with a job. 

It’s irresponsible, bad for business and frankly quite stupid. This could cost him his credibility, his credits, his life.  

You don’t double cross your employer—it’s the first rule of business that even a child would understand.   

Boba Fett is cunning and clever; always one step ahead of his enemies. Always methodical, refusing to leave any loose ends that even hint at coming back around to bite him in the ass. He’s convinced himself that a will of iron is necessary—the only way to survive and to grow stronger than those who’ve hurt him—bested him in the game of life.  

Cold, methodical, a legend.   

And you…

You are soft. Gentle and too kind for someone to be caught up in this sort of mess. He shouldn’t be delivering you to Death’s doorstep in exchange for credits. You should be off living on some remote planet, far out of the reaches of the Empire. Away from him. Billions of miles from his bloody fingertips that stain your skin like black ink against a white canvas.  

But you’ve made your choices and he’s made his.    

And none of it soothes the festering storm, with winds more forceful than those on Kamino, that rattle through his ribcage. It tears through his sternum, cuts through the beskar and leaves an open wound—raw and tender that grows tenfold the second your eyes land on him. 

You don’t beg when he hoists you up from the floor, no blubbering tears or last minute bargains to spare your life. Not even as you both reach the loading ramp, one mere tap of the button that would reveal you both to the man waiting on the landing platform. One button and he’d be free of you. You’re braver than most. 

He’ll give you that. 

He shouldn’t have said anything—saved himself from the steady ache that comes with having to look you in the eye. Drives a stake so deep into his chest the second you spare him a precious smile that twinkles like unrefined coaxium and thank him. You’re thanking him for the barest amount of kindness he offered to you on your last days of life. 

Boba isn’t sure who he hates more; himself or you. 

He must be staring too long—committing each soft slope and contour of your cheeks, the freckles, your softly parted lips, to memory—because the gentle nudge to his arm startles him. 

“I’ll be alright,” you grin. You make a poor impression of a blaster with your finger and thumb and mimic the sound of it firing. “One shot to the head and I’m gone.” 

“I know how blasters work.”

You shrug and glance at his hand that hovers over the button. “Then why are you hesitating?”

The million credit answer. One that you both know the answer to. 

“Because you won’t be dying. Not today and not while I’m still alive.”  

                                     <><><><><><><><><><><>

The outfit is garish. 

Too white.

Too clean. 

A color that deceives his true nature and masks what he truly is— a viper laying in wait for unsuspecting prey and witless victims. The smile that curls along the man’s unshaven face is meant to charm, but all it does is unsettle. 

Boba has never once trusted a man who relies solely on the weight of his words rather than his own actions. All that this man has are words. Words, and a flimsy position within the ranks of the Empire. That, and twelve heavily armed Death Troopers that guard him, if you count them as well.  

Orson Krennic. 

A man that’ll get what’s coming to him. Perhaps not Boba’s own plasma bolt through the middle of his finely pressed uniform—but something equally as satisfying.

Grey hairs that escape his hat glint like shards of metal shrapnel in the midday sun, the Director’s smile steady as he speaks. “Took you long enough, bounty hunter.” 

Boba’s teeth clamp onto his tongue, the metallic taste of blood flooding his tastebuds. “Too bad you have to rely on one, Director.” 

Krennic snorts, folds his arms behind his back and saunters closer. “And your bounty? What of her?” 

“Dead.”

[m39]

I’m rambling about June Egbert before my Homestuck^2 break starts.

Originally, this was supposed to be posted day after 6/12 but I’m posting it now because I’m sick of Homestuck^2.

For those who don’t know what I’m talking about and/or lived under the rock for a decade, June Egbert is a very popular headcanon of a Trans woman version of John. To this day I’m still confused how it all happened. Don't get me wrong, I’m not saying that the idea of John becoming Trans woman is bad, far from it, I just find this headcanon overrated. Maybe I find it all overrated because my mind is not woke enough and I can’t analyze/find the most miniscule things that (supposedly) indicate that John is actually Trans. But hey, that’s just me.

Besides being overrated, I have two major problems with June headcanon.

The first one is: How June will become canon?      

Now before you start scratching your heads thinking Wait wha-, a quick summary: Someone found a magical, genie-tier Toblerone that Hussie had hidden, and her wish was for June to become canon. This makes me go questioning myself on how the flying fuck can she actually become canon. The best possible scenario that I can come out with is that June Egbert is from yet another, third timeline (not the Alpha one). It would made most of the sense since in over 11 years since the release and 8000+ pages of the original comic, John had never shown any thoughts that he was born in wrong body, neither with him expressing feelings about it. It’s basic writing 101: when you create the character who is Trans, do not use a character that was never indicated to be Trans. Sure, both Johns from both timelines are not exactly the same as the Alpha John, but there were still no clear examples/proof that one of them were trans in Epilogues and/or Homestuck^2. Candy John shaving his mustache? Well it might indicate that he decided to clean himself up, start a life once more by getting over the fact that his timeline is (possibly) the doomed timeline and have a time of his life. The same John wearing his God-Tier pajamas? It can be shown as a joke that he’s not a teenager anymore but a 38 years old fart who outgrown his old clothes and forgot to change it to his current size. There are still other things similar to these but I am mostly focusing on the Homestuck^2 stuff so, yeah.

The second problem is the one that I find more… sickening for the lack of better words. Some people tend to act like John never existed at all.

They act like he was always named June. They act like he was always Trans. They are calling him June in the comments despite the fact that it’s still John that we see! I saw one comic with A young man stands in- text with its author blurring out the word man in it!! These people are calling other artists transphobes for just drawing John!!! ALL OVER SOMEONE WHO DIDN’T EVEN APPEAR IN THE DUBIOUSLY CANON SEQUEL TO THE ORIGINAL COMIC AND ITS EPILOGUES!!!!!!!

You struggle to calm yourself.

This feels like taking a dumb over Hussie’s work. John doesn’t deserve this shit! I mean, we are talking about the guy who was with us from the very beginning! He is considered the main character of Homestuck! And now what? We are supposed to dumb him to the trashcan like some worthless filth?! After 8000+ pages of Homestuck?! All over one version of him that never appeared in official media?! Never had a single page with her showing up?! Never spoke?! What is wrong with you people?!

I’m not saying that you shouldn’t draw June. You want to draw her? Great, good for you. There are many drawings of her that I love. But please, don’t spread the idea of June at the cost of John himself. Both John and June can coexist together.

I am not however ending on the negative vibe. I’ll go more neutral to tell you my headcanon look for June, both her normal clothes and her own version of her god-tier clothes to distinct her look from John. So her normal clothes would be just the original John’s clothes that we saw in the beginning of Homestuck. It would basically look like that drawing @sarcasmprodigy did of June wearing cargo shorts or something like that. As for her God-tier outfit, I would change a few things. First, instead of a normal shirt, she would wear a tank-top. Second, her outfit would have more yellow-colored zigzags/ornaments/elements overall. Finally, while still wearing Heir’s pants, June would also wear a puffy ass skirt. It would be hilarious and adorable at the same time.

And, well, that’s it. It’s time for me to leave Calliope’s Insanity Land and Caliborn’s Theory Goldmine.

You stand up. You take a deep breath.

I feel free.

maniacal giggling

Now, there is one last thing for me to do.

See you all next time.

You exit your room.

Bogan: Y̶o̴u̵ ̶k̵n̵o̵w̵ ̷t̸h̵e̵y̵ ̴w̸i̷l̶l̵ ̴l̸i̴k̵e̸,̶ ̶s̵k̶i̷n̷ ̶y̵o̵u̵ ̷a̵l̴i̷v̴e̷ ̴f̴o̸r̶ ̴w̵h̶a̴t̶ ̷y̴o̵u̴ ̷s̴a̷i̵d̶,̶ ̷r̴i̵g̶h̴t̵?̸

I know…

You put a gigantic target wheel on yourself.

AND I DON’T GIVE A SINGLE FUCK ABOUT IT!!! WHOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

You burst through the exit door screaming “freedom” like Mel Gibson in “Braveheart”

[bomberqueen17]

the oxford unabridged dictionary, magnifying glass edition

We Witchered fairly briefly last night because DF had to do some Warframe things first. (Revenge Of Ass Butterflies. IDK. I don’t understand that game.)

We picked up in the Creepy Loot Cave again, and DF immediately was like, “Do I want to fight this gargoyle? Fuck, no, I don’t, fuck it,” and hopped back through the portal. 

Kiera/Boobs McSassy remains annoying. I mean, she seemed to be doing a useful thing during the quest at least, but the way she shriek-whined “Ger-aalllt!” every time an enemy came near her got old Real Fast. And like. The hair-tossing. She’s wearing this ridiculous outfit, with a big floppy split skirt and like five layers of semi-apron thingies over the top, but no actual cargo space anywhere, and just-- no breast support. We discussed that, and MM said, “You know, if I had sorcerous powers, I might devote some of them to braless clothing engineering,” which, I guess, good point. At one point she had to bend down to get something and I had spent that whole day in a slightly not-great bra and every time I bent over I’d had to drastically readjust myself, and I was like, her idle animation is her fixing her tits constantly, and yet bending over has no effect? Come on.

One of these days I’ll write a ballad entitled “Written By A Man” full of all these characters that you absolutely can just... tell... were written by a man. It’s not that I’d never write a character that was an annoying woman, even an annoying woman in an unflattering and uncomfortable costume, but... you can just tell. 

We were debating her sex life and whether she was really hitting on Geralt or not (”She greeted him with bare tits,” MM pointed out. “That wasn’t so much flirtation as it was taunting, I think,” DF countered, which, I think, is a fair assessment). “She doesn’t exactly seem undersexed,” DF said, and MM laughed and said “She also doesn’t exactly seem like a woman who’s... satisfied.”

Anyhow, action started then, and we discovered that it’s actually sort of unclear whether you should fight the Wild Hunt with silver or steel sword. It doesn’t actually seem to make a difference. The hounds, though, you have to do silver with, so. 

It was an annoying but not un-do-able fight, and Kiera did a lot of shrieking but was more useful than, say, Vesemir was during the griffin fight, so. Good for her.

And then. Then, once we’d killed the guy. Kiera said something that made the entire evening worth it. I don’t remember exactly what she said, but it involved the phrase “If I’ve got my knickers on straight...”

We all SHRIEKED at how hilarious that was. “Girl you’ve never had your knickers on straight in your LIFE” I said, and MM said “She probably wears those really skimpy ones anyway, the G-string ones-- I don’t think you can wear those other than straight?” and I was like “oh you can absolutely put them on sideways and never realize” “All I can ever think about when I see those is how uncomfortable they look,” DF put in, and then confessed that most of the time when he does see them it’s that they’ve ridden up out of people’s trousers and look horribly uncomfortable and poorly-adjusted. He is a Sensible Underwear sort of guy, it turns out. I did know that, I’ve known him since the 90s. 

(Maybe the best part of us having these long digressions is that DF never misses anything with the controller. He’ll just, like. Idly be playing the game with a ton of skill, and like, be verbally shitposting the entire time without missing a beat. Hard to convey that in these recaps.)

So we finished the scene and were looting the elf mage’s lab, and in the midst of a conversation, Kiera just... is like yes here’s a thing you should know about and then just

whips out a HUGE book out of NOWHERE and is like “yes read this it has information you need”

and we all were SHRIEKING because WHERE WAS SHE CARRYING THAT BOOK THE WHOLE TIME???

It was NOT a small book! I was like “that’s the Oxford Unabridged Dictionary!” and MM was like “Oh yes! That’s the Magnifying Glass Edition, my parents had that in the house. I recognize it. There’s a little drawer in the cover where the magnifying glass is stored.”

“And she had that IN HER PANTS? Through THIS WHOLE LEVEL?”

“Just... suspended from her underpants, inside the skirt,” MM said. “That explains why her posture was so strange.”

“And why she was fidgeting so much,” DF put in. 

She gives Geralt a magical object and says you can think of me whenever you use it and we all kind of rolled our eyes, and MM started spontaneously composing poetry.

each time you use it, you'll think of me,  and the OED, that I had in my G... Now it's poetry

So, Boobs McSassy pouted at Geralt to get him come help her pick up some widget the magic elf had promised to her. “Your Geralt is whipped,” I said.

“My Geralt is an XP whore,” DF said. 

To get through a door, he had to light a series of torches in the correct order. If you get it wrong, a wraith spawns and you have to kill it. There were about four or five possible answers, and DF did it wrong four times. Hilariously, he’s gotten so good at killing wraiths that each time he was just like “AAAARRRGHHHH” *slash**slash**slash**slash* and the thing was dead, so it was just funny every time he got it wrong. He just went in with such confidence. “Oh, ok, this is how it’s gotta--” *wraith spawns* “for fuck’s sake.”

Amusingly, none of us saw fit to comment on the fact that somehow, Geralt also doesn’t carry a backpack or anything with him, and he just easily took the Oxford Unabridged Dictionary Magnifying Glass Edition that Kiera apparently had hanging from her g-string and put it... somewhere, somewhere between his tight pants and his oddly corset-like padded gambeson, along with the four dozen broken rakes and seven creepy dolls and twenty Rusty Novigrad Swords and fucktillion Puffball Mushrooms and the entire head of a griffin he’s got stuffed in there somewhere. 

Upon completion of the quest, Kiera led Geralt out to a boat, then gave him a quest to “stop by and see me sometime, sweetheart” [that’s not verbatim]. MM was like “PLEASE do not do that quest without me that is ABSOLUTELY a booty call” and I was like “please do not do that quest until you’ve either looted or crafted yourself a condom” and DF was like “but Witchers are infertile?” and MM said “can Witchers get syphilis?” and I said “no but I was going to suggest you make it out of dimeritium so that this Written By A Man character does not actually bewitch you with her Witch Cooch” so now that’s a thing we’re trying to puzzle out in the Crafting tab.

(Like. I’m super into consenting adults doing what they want, but this is a work of fiction and I don’t trust its writers, y’know?)

Anyway, so Boobs McSassy took her swishy split skirt, not appreciably lightened by relieving herself of the Oxford Unabridged Dictionary Magnifying Glass Edition she’d had hanging from her g-string, and sashayed through a portal, and Geralt sailed off on a boat.

“Uh,” DF said. “How do I boat?” I took out my phone and googled “Witcher 3 How Do Boat” and got a comprehensive tutorial for how to do it on a PC, which didn’t help, but DF had figured it out on his own by then.

We found the great loot drop near Fyke Island or whatever, but got murdered by Drowners, [”I do believe I can see his weiner,” he said, frowning at one of the Drowners; he sounded really offended] took a pause to poke at inventory, respawned, tried again, and drowned, and DF was like “fuck this, I really need to go sell a bunch of shit before I can loot anything else.”

So, after much more shenanigans than should have been necessary, we sank the boat and swam to shore and found a godforsaken little marsh town that had a blacksmith and a merchant. So we sold some shit, and then dicked around in the Inventory tab for an ungodly length of time.

MM, an experienced gaming widow who earlier had been quoting swathes of the dialogue from Bioshock (”I was working 70 hour weeks so I badly wanted someone to take me to dreamtime, Mr. Bubbles, so I felt that, I really did”), watched this process and said sagely, “Gotta fiddle with your stuff?”

“Gotta fiddle with my stuff,” DF confirmed. His Geralt, despite the muttonchops, which are not growing out, is starting to look more color-coordinated, which is the sort of thing that soothes his soul. DF, despite being straight, does like fashion, he just likes terrible fashion.

He equipped The Emmentaler, which is a sword he looted from the cheese quest. “Now I want cheese whenever I see this thing,” he groused. But the stats are pretty good. To be on-theme, and since he’s out of Raw Meat, he put cheese into the quick-access slot for food-based health regen.

Stuff fiddled with, we all retired to bed, leaving Geralt in a grim little marshy village. After saving, DF had Geralt throw a bomb at the alderman, just to see what happened. Nothing, as it happened, so he quit and turned off the console. 

[xiolaperry]

The Piano - Chapter 2

Notes: My Camp NaNoWriMo Project for April 2020.  A Rumbelling of the 1993 movie ‘The Piano’. Has 14 chapters, all are written. I’ll post one every few days. Some dialogue is taken directly from the film and from ‘Once Upon a Time’. No copyright infringement intended - I’m just having fun. The film is gorgeous, if you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend that you watch it.

Summary:  Belle French and her daughter arrive in New Zealand to an arranged marriage with Gaston LeGume.  Gaston shows little interest in her or her piano and books. However, Mr. Gold is fascinated…

Rating: E (for smut, dark subject matter and violence in future chapters) 

Also available on AO3

---

Things were not progressing the way Gaston had pictured in his head.

“You have a good many boxes and trunks. I'd like to know what's in them. How about this one,” he asked, pointing at a box.

Belle gestured to the writing on the side: Crockery and Pots.

“Oh. Yes. Pots.” Gaston wiped at his forehead with an embroidered handkerchief. “And this? This is huge. What's in it? A bed frame or something?” He hit the crate with his fist for emphasis. The piano inside produced a reverberating echo from being struck. Belle spread her arms across the top protectively.

Tilly spoke to her step-father for the first time. “It's my mother's piano.”

“A piano. And these trunks?” He rapped against the side of the closest one with his axe. Belle flinched.

“Those are books.”

Gaston turned away. “Gold. Tell the men to carry the boxes and suitcases.” Gold spoke to the group and gave them instructions. The Maori divided up the cargo.

Belle took the small notepad and pencil from the silver case she wore around her neck. She wrote some brief words on the paper. She brought it to Gaston, Tilly following close behind.

“The piano? The books?” he read aloud.

“No. They can't come now.” He crumpled the note.

“They must!” Tilly was her mother's voice. She knew what these things meant to her. “She wants them to come.”

“I understand. But there aren't enough of us to carry everything.” He looked at Belle. “TOO HEAVY,” he added in a louder tone, enunciating the words.

Belle felt the first stirrings of fear. She hadn't been scared when she realized she was pregnant. She hadn't been frightened when her father told her of the arranged marriage, or during the storm at sea. But this was too much. She wrote another note. He had to understand. “I NEED them. Please.”

“You'd rather have them than your kitchenware or your clothing?”

Belle signed to Tilly. “We can't leave the piano or the books. I don't care about the rest.”

Gaston stood straighter, assuming an air of authority. “We cannot waste time discussing this.” He began a prepared speech. “I'm pleased you've arrived safely-”

“Mother wants to know if we can come back for them...”

Gaston's eyes widened. Had a child interrupted him? He ignored her and continued to speak to Belle. “I would like to apologize for the unavoidable delay that led to your spending the night on the beach-”

As he spoke Belle signed, her fingers flying like angry bees.

“Can we return for them after they have delivered the other things? She must have them.”

Gaston's mouth hung open. Interrupted again?

Gold was impressed. He had never seen Gaston control his temper so well. This just kept getting more interesting.

One of the Maori, Kamira, noticed his distress and found it hilarious. He laughed, and brought Granny over to enjoy the scene. Gaston didn't understand what they were saying, but he never took laughter (other than his own) as a good sign.

“The matter is closed. The trunks and piano will remain here. Prepare yourselves for a difficult journey. The mud is very deep in places.”

Gaston clenched his jaw and walked away. He could not believe two females challenged him. Two small females, at that. The piano and books were unneeded. His authority as a man and head of the house must stand. What an odd girl. Choosing books and a piano over clothes and household goods? Over useful things? It made no sense.

“What do you think of her?” he asked Gold. “Odd, isn't she? She'll learn who’s boss.”

“She looks tired. It was a long voyage, with a major disappointment at the end.”

“Oh, she'll get over it. What does a woman need books for anyway?” he replied, not understanding the implication that he was the disappointment. “I'll go on ahead and lead the way. Have them bring up the rear.”

Boxes and valises collected, the party set their backs to the ocean and walked toward the cliffs. Gaston did not speak to Belle, nor did he look at her. He strode ahead, confident they would follow. What other option did they have?

Belle had no choice. Straightening her spine, she took Tilly’s hand. She did not look back. She told herself she wouldn't.

However, after climbing the hill they reached a point on the cliff where there was a sudden view down onto the beach. The mist from the ocean gave her piano and books a surreal haze. They were forlorn, stark against the pale sand. It was almost more than Belle could bear, seeing them abandoned and alone, and she could not look away.

Gold saw the depth of emotion in her eyes. There was more to this than just a woman insisting on her own way. It was important. But what could he do? He couldn't very well carry the piano on his back. Even the trunks of books would be too much for him with his leg. Sympathetic, he waited a few minutes and then cleared his throat.

Belle took a deep breath. She could do this. But she would return and retrieve these pieces of her life. The sound of the crashing waves receded behind them.

---

Ferns and moss abounded in the humid climate. A jumble of trees, vines, leaves and roots passed before her eyes. Through it all she heard the confident voice of Mr. Gold. Gaston might think he was the leader, but it was obvious who was in charge.

Adrenaline and residual anger, the only things keeping her going during the first half of the journey, had worn off. Now she was weary to her bones. Exhaustion kept her curious nature in check. Her overwhelming impression of this new land was mud. It stained her skirts and sucked at her boots. Tilly, resilient as children are, tromped along with good humor. She was happy to be off the ship, with a change of scenery after the monotony of the ocean. Granny noticed her enthusiasm and pointed things out to her, giving her their names: the enormous kauri trees, harakeke plants covered in korimako birds, and edible white flowered maikaika lilies. Belle was glad that at least her daughter was enjoying herself.

As he whacked at the underbrush, Gaston's good humor returned. He reassured himself that Belle was beautiful. This was important for a man as handsome as he. He had assumed she would be biddable, full of gratitude that a man like him would want to marry her despite her muteness and an illegitimate child. He would be firm but patient, and their relationship would grow in time.

When it began to rain, Belle despaired of ever reaching her new home. Her dress, soaked from the storm, grew heavier. Would they march forever in circles, trapped in an infinite forest from Tilly's stories?

At last, they arrived at a large clearing with a wooden house. Gaston was proud of what he had built. He had fought back the bush using a slash and burn technique. He envisioned manicured lawns and gardens, land transformed and subdued to his will. All Belle saw was a barren graveyard of mud. She was too tired to care.

Gaston paid the men. Boxes and suitcases lay in a jumble on the covered porch. Mr. Gold left with Kamira and Granny. The three of them were alone for the first time.

“Here are the bedrooms,” he said, opening the doors. “Tomorrow I will show you my property. Please make yourselves at home. I have a few chores to tend to, excuse me.” He left them to poke around for themselves.

Belle put their things in the smaller room. She would share a bed with Tilly. She was not ready to share one with a stranger and was grateful it did not seem that he would insist she do so. He might not be the prince from a fairy-tale, but at least for the moment he was not the villain. They slipped off their muddy clothes and collapsed into the bed.

[fire-the-headcanons]

Tai scratched his neck with a thoughtful frown at the floor. "Have you told Professor Carmine you can carve?"

"No. …Why?"

"Custom parts for weapons. Embellishments, mostly. There was always a two-week wait at Signal for anything they didn't already have the molds for. With all the professional Huntsmen that come here for repairs, I bet it's even worse."

"Hey, yeah, I never thought of that," Summer said, pausing her rifling through the paints. "Wouldn't that be cool? Your stuff being part of real Huntresses' weapons!"

"Summer, we're not fake Huntsmen," Tai complained.

Follow the Beacon Summer—Care Package

[Link to Masterpost]

[The promised fluff! And @ranger-lcat‘s favorite chapter, actually.

TW: slight existentialism, jump to CARE PACKAGE! in all caps to skip]

"Oh—you're that kid."

Summer paused, the pen dwindling to a stop halfway through her signature. "...Oakley?"

"Are you okay?" they asked, sliding the box onto the counter. "You seemed a little... freaked out, on Halloween. I thought later maybe I should have broken character."

"N-no, it was fine!" And not at all embarrassing. She hurried to scrawl the rest of her signature. 

Slush sprayed under her boots as she headed back to the dorm. You never expect to know the person under the sheet. But they were back in reality now, and she didn't have to stand back and watch helplessly while people were hurt.

Starting with the ones in front of her.  

"CARE PACKAGE!" Summer shouted, kicking the door open a little harder than intended. It banged into Qrow's desk loud enough to send half the room diving for cover. "Whoops. Sorry."

"It's gigantic," Tai scoffed, believably, jumping up to help her carry it in. "What's in here?" They dumped it at the foot of Summer's bed with a muffled floof. 

...It was bigger than she'd expected. How much did Huang have lying around? It wasn't like anything of Summer's would fit either of the twins. "I guess Mom didn't know which paints to send, so they just sent everything." She slid Gungnir's arrow from the barrel and sliced through the tape. "Aaaaand it's a bunch of your old clothes."

"I asked him to send, like, two things. Half of these don't even fit me anymore… I thought we donated this." He held up an old band T-shirt—most of the lettering had peeled off, but the bone-like patches sewn on to imitate a Beowolf's pattern remained. She was reasonably sure it wasn't Tai's, either, his dad was the one who liked that group. Then again, Summer had mentioned the twins wearing Grimm colors on a phone call sometime in September. I guess they remembered.

"Cool." 

They both glanced at Raven, who hurriedly looked back at her textbook.

"Then it's yours," Tai said, tossing it right over the pages. "Take whatever you want, the rest is going to Ramparts. Here they are!" he shouted, pulling some of his orange zip-off cargo pants from the bottom of the pile. "I knew I had another pair! ...What's this?" he muttered with genuine confusion, drawing a note out of the pocket.

Summer grabbed a loose corner and dragged it open. "Hey kids, we've been too busy to get into Vale, could you drop this stuff off next time you're in town, Claret and Huang."

"That explains why they have some stuff in here too," Tai said, pulling a deep red skirt from the box with his free hand. Summer fought back a smile. It was perfect—her mother was about Raven's size, and while her red had a bit more of a purplish hue it was definitely closer than Tai's orange. Huang had thrown in some plain brown pants for Qrow, too, by the looks of it—

"My paints!" she gushed, pulling a large plastic toolbox from the giant wad of clothing. Another lay beneath it. "And all the figures…" You didn't need to sell it that hard.

"Sorry. Guess Dad figured Uncle Balt was dropping it off for free and just sent half the cabin." Tai grinned. "But hey, maybe we can scrape together a group to play a little Grottoes and Grimm."

"Dan won't want to, though," she said, turning her old Huntress over in her hands. It didn't look like any paint had chipped during transit. Then again… some of these were early attempts and an excuse to redo them wouldn't really hurt.

"He can deal with it for a Saturday or two," Tai said dismissively.

"Can I see them?" Qrow asked. "…The figures?"

"Of course!" Summer said, turning the toolbox to face him as he limped over. 

It had been a whole day and his aura was barely recharging, but he refused to go to the doctor. If it kept up any longer they'd probably have to drag him—if something had torn in his knee it could keep siphoning his energy forever until he got medical attention.

"Your leg doing any better?" Tai asked.

"A little." 

And all of that was ignoring the gashes on his face and neck. If he could really keep his defenses up in his sleep, it would take more than a distracted tumble down the stairs to injure him.

What they couldn't figure out was why he would lie. 

Summer inspected a little plastic Ursa, wrinkling her nose. "These don't look as good as I remember."

"They look great." Qrow picked through the box carefully, one at a time. "Well, the paint looks amazing," he amended.

"Yours are way better than the plastic," she said, setting the Ursa back down. "...You're sure you want me to paint them?"

"It'd take me forever to learn to do this," he said, holding up a little Huntress with a battleaxe. "Go for it."

Tai scratched his neck with a thoughtful frown at the floor. "Have you told Professor Carmine you can carve?" 

"No. …Why?"

"Custom parts for weapons. Embellishments, mostly. There was always a two-week wait at Signal for anything they didn't already have the molds for. With all the professional Huntsmen that come here for repairs, I bet it's even worse."

"Hey, yeah, I never thought of that," Summer said, pausing her rifling through the paints. "Wouldn't that be cool? Your stuff being part of real Huntresses' weapons!"

"Summer, we're not fake Huntsmen," Tai complained.

"You know what I mean!" She grabbed a scratch sheet of paper from her desk and dipped her smallest brush into the red paint, tracing a few practice swirls. Once she put brush to bone it wasn't likely she'd be able to erase any mistakes. When the motions finally felt automatic, she picked up the Beowolf and traced the little lines on its mask.

He peered at it, smiling. "I love it."

"Those are way better than the plastic models," Tai agreed.

"Hey, when you paint the Grimm Reaper, can you use a little of the silver just on the edge of the blade?" Qrow asked, pointing out the little tube of metallic paint sitting on the toolbox's tray.

"Ooh, and leave some of the bone showing?" Summer asked. "That's a great idea!" She beamed at him. Behind him, his sister threaded a needle. "Oh, Raven, if you're going to tailor that shirt you'll need some stay tape. I think it's knit. Here, use some of mine."

"Oh, thanks." 

Much better, Summer thought, tracing the next set of red lines onto her practice sheet for the nevermore. Raven quickly got engrossed in her project, and a slightly confused Qrow listened to Tai's enthusiastic retelling of their last G&G campaign while he picked through the box of clothes. 

Finally, the cloud of the last few days began to lift.

Next Chapter: Taiyang—Scars

[On one hand, I don't have any ideas for a Grimm and Grottoes campaign with these four. On the other hand, Qrow's Semblance screwing with the players and the GM equally would be hilarious. "Miss." "Miss." "Miss." "Miss." "Miss." "...Nat one." "You take… fifty-six points of damage." "Guys, I don't think this is working."]

[the-jade-cross]

Burning Water - Chapter V

Chapter 5

Maya felt her hands go cold as Oberyn grasped her small hand in his surprisingly smooth, sun kissed hand that practically engulfed hers. She felt a million eyes on her and Oberyn as he led her into the center of the room before he spun around to face her. Maya barely had a moment to process that they were done walking when Oberyn’s warm hand slipped around her waist to press against the small of her back, his other hand gently holding her free hand. Instinctively Maya’s hand appeared on Oberyn’s shoulder and the prince smirked as he slowly began to lead the girl in a slow sway of a dance. After the whole dance performance earlier, Maya was grateful for a chance to not dance fast or synchronized.

“You are nervous,” Oberyn observed as he took in the girl’s slightly pale cheeks, wide eyes and trembling hands. She reminded him of a kitten caught in a room full of ferocious dogs.

Maya nodded as she peered left and right and around Oberyn at all the eyes on them, “I hate being the center of attention… especially when I am forced into it.”

Oberyn smirked, “I trust I did not force you to dance with me, my lady.”

Maya at once looked up at him, “Not at all prince Oberyn!”

The girl must have realized how quickly she responded and how she had said the words in a slightly louder tone, loud enough for a few people nearby to hear which brought a bright blush to her cheeks, her lips parting in shock and her grip on Oberyn’s shoulder tightened in a failed attempt to hold back her flustered state.

To be honest, Oberyn preferred her that way, flustered at herself and avoiding his gaze for fear that her blush would increase. Releasing her hand, Oberyn touched her chin with his finger and the girl instinctively lifted her head to look at him, only to find Oberyn’s warm brown eyes smiling back at her gently.

“Do not be afraid my lady. Those who fear are strong but those who are not afraid of fear are stronger.” He whispered.

Maya stared at him, not sure how to respond to that, only to realize that Oberyn had wrapped his other hand around her waist, leaving her to put both hands on his shoulders. She knew she was blushing again from their close proximity and intimacy, but she was unable to draw her eyes away from the obsidian eyes that stared into her very soul.

About three hours later, Maya flopped down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling with a ridiculous grin plastered on her face. Lillia perked up from where she was sitting in a hot bubble bath while Nanteza tried her hardest to help the girl wash her curls without tangling her blond hair more. Evelyn was sitting at the nightstand brushing her hair and when Maya entered, she looked over her shoulder.

“So?” she asked, smirking. “How did the rest of the party go?”

Maya sighed heavily, “Shame you lot left early. So much talking, so much dancing… so many sore feet!”

“Are you talking about literal sore feet or sore feet as in the description of snobbish people?” Lillia asked, squeaking loudly when Nanteza poured warm water over her bubble filled curls.

“Both,” Maya replied before the smile found its way back onto her face and this did not go unnoticed by Evelyn.

The dark-haired Stark rushed over and plopped down on the bed next to Maya, cupping her face in her hands, “So? Spill! Who is it!?”

Maya looked at her confused, “Who is who?”

Lillia giggled as she leapt out of the tub, barely giving Nanteza time to throw her a robe before throwing herself onto the bed, splashing water at the two girls with her still wet curls, “The guy you are so dreamily smiling about! It is written all over your face!”

“Wha…” Maya began but the huge blush that erupted on her face only brought more smiles to the three other girls.

“So?” Evelyn prodded, poking Maya in the side while Lillia inched closer which made Maya inch back out of fear of the damp and still soapy rat nest.

“I think I know,” Nanteza smirked as she dried her hands and came over to sit cross legged on the edge of the bed. “It wouldn’t happen to be my uncle would it?”

Immediately Evelyn and Lillia’s faces froze while Maya’s eyes widened. Lillia was the first to break the silence, rolling around in fits of giggles.

“That is hilarious! Why would Maya…. Wait…. YOUR UNCLE!? AS IN PRINCE OBERYN!?”

The girl was practically grabbing Maya’s shirt when Evelyn pulled the little blond girl back to calm her while Maya tried to erase the blush on her cheeks.

Lillia chuckled. “So, you’ve got a thing for older guys huh?”

“Lillia!” Evelyn scolded, swatting the girl over the back of her head which barely fazed the blond.

Maya smirked, “Says the girl who has a crush on my brother!”

It was Lillia’s turn to blush when Nanteza and Evelyn looked at the girl like two vultures who had just caught a mouse in a trap.

“Oh, shut up!” The girl whined.

Maya decided to not embarrass the girl further and turned to Evelyn, “What about you? Do you have someone you are attracted to?”

Evelyn looked down but the girls noticed how the tips of her ears turned pink. “I do not really know him but… we met on the road not long ago… but the chance of me seeing him again are one in a million.”

Nanteza smiled before reaching over to pat the girl’s hand, “You know, if you two are really meant to be together, you will find each other again.”

As the room fell into silence, Maya noticed Lillia nodding off while Evelyn was blinking slowly.

“Come here,” She instructed, scooting over to lay back against the pillows, opening her arms to the girls. “I’ll sing you the song that the ocean sings to me.”

Lillia scurried over and curled up next to Maya, tucked against her side like a kitten. “The water sings to you?”

Maya nodded as Evelyn and Nanteza laid down on either side of her, resting their heads against the pillows. “When the waves are crashing, it is more violent but when the water is silent, I can hear it like a sweet bird’s song.”

Softly Maya’s voice rose like the gentle trickle of a creek, mixed with the sweet song of the bird and the hum of the wind, all rolled into one as her voice drifted through the room like a warm blanket.

May it be an evening star Shines down upon you May it be when darkness falls Your heart will be true You walk a lonely road Oh! How far you are from home

Mornië utúlië Believe and you will find your way Mornië alantië A promise lives within you now

May it be the shadow's call Will fly away May it be your journey on To light the day When the night is overcome You may rise to find the sun

Mornië utúlië Believe and you will find your way

Mornië alantië A promise lives within you now

A promise lives within you now

By the time the song was finished, the girls were sound asleep, and Maya was dozing off herself. What she didn’t know as she closed her eyes to sleep was that Oberyn Martell had gone searching for his missing niece only to come upon the sleeping girl as well as the Stark, the Arryn and Maya, the latter singing such a sweet song that Oberyn felt like he was listening to a siren and he was a lost sailor being drawn in.

******

The captain of the small vessel looked over the wheel at the young girl who stood near the rail of the ship, staring at the shores of Kings Landing as they slowly approached. He had been watching her stand there for almost an hour, feeling as if there was something about her that was lost… broken… but yet still intact. Her long rich red locks fell in perfect waves to her waist curling in just the right places, nothing fancy about her hairstyle like some of the things the captain had seen. Some women twisted their hair a fancy way or used hair dressings or pins, but this girl let her hair fall free and for some reason, the splashing salty water in the air and the strong gusts of wind did nothing to destroy the perfect color and smoothness of her hair… as if… it was invincible.

The girl had stood at the rail for a while now, both of her slender pale hands, freckled with pale Sunkissed freckles resting on the rail, her simple white dress she wore beneath her navy blue cloak billowed slightly in the air and the captain had to keep from smiling when he had discovered an hour prior when a young male passenger had been ogling at the girl, waiting for the wind to catch the girl’s skirts to give him a better view of the girl’s legs, only for both the perverted male and the captain to discover that the skirt was just narrow enough to keep from riding up past her calves which gave them a perfect view of the pants the girl wore beneath the dress, irritating the male passenger and amusing the captain.

When the young woman had boarded the ship, the captain had been instructed to carry her to Kings Landing by a very rich looking knight, several guards riding behind him who all seemed hesitant to leave the girl alone without protection. She had not brought much baggage with her other than the small simple satchel that she kept strapped to her side and a handbag containing a few clothes which was stored with all the other cargo. By glancing at her belongings, one would think she was a servant but at the way she kept her head high beneath the large hood of her cloak, her clear skin, luscious lips and the simple but beautiful diamond earrings resting on her adorable ears were enough to prove to anyone that she was a fine lady.

Leaving the wheel to his first mate, the captain traveled down to the woman, feeling bad that she was traveling alone with no handmaiden or even a guard to keep her company. She seemed undeterred by the huge waves that struck the ship, spraying water onto the deck. All the other passengers had gone below at the first wave, but the girl remained, never moving when the water sprayed up.

“My lady,” the captain said, leaning over to catch her attention.

The girl turned to look at him and smiled brightly, something he never saw from a fine lady when he usually got a sneer or glare when he addressed someone of high station.

“I hope I am not interrupting,” he stated. “I was just wondering if you were alright. You have been standing here for a while… I hope you are not too cold.”

The girl smiled and shook her head, “Thank you captain. I rather like the water… it almost feels like home.”

The captain’s eyes widened, “That is a first… at least from a lady. If you do not mind, what is your business traveling all the way to Kings Landing alone?”

Sighing, the girl turned to him. “It is not really much of a story. I had to leave home because it was not safe for me there… I am coming to Kings Landing in the hopes of living here peacefully and safely.”

“What are your plans there?” he asked, rather concerned by the girl’s plight. “Do you have family?”

Once again, the girl shook her head. “I was planning on searching for employment.”

“I find it hard to believe that a lady would be willing to work,” The captain remarked.

The girl chuckled and the captain found himself smiling at the joyful girl. “I do not mind working… if it protects my family.”

When the captain gave her a confused look, the girl was draw back a few weeks prior… to that fateful day…

Flashback Begins – 2 weeks ago

“Willas!” Loras practically screamed, barreling down the corridor so fast that it was a miracle that he did not slip on the beds. “Willas come quick!”

The oldest Tyrell burst out of the library, Lillia on his tail where the girl had been receiving a lesson on the history of the Tyrell family when they saw the blond boy pull to a stop with fear in his eyes.

“What is it?” Willas insisted.

“It’s Maya,” Loras sighed as he leant on his knees, Lillia rubbing circles on his back to help him catch his breath.

When the three hurried into the front hall, they were just in time to see Garlan stumbling through the front hall, a trembling Maya in his arms, the girl’s arms almost choking him as they wrapped around his neck, Margaery following while trying to sooth her sister.

“What happened!?” Willas demanded as Garlan set the girl down in an armchair and rubbed her wrists gently.

“It was that perverted new guard,” Garlan hissed through gritted teeth. “Lucky bastard. After what he did, getting flogged and thrown out of Highgarden was the lightest sentence.”

“WHAT HAPPENED!?” Willas bellowed, “In the common tongue Garlan!”

“The guard touched her,” Loras explained. “Garlan and I were in the stables when we heard Maya scream. We were just in time before he… you know…”

Lillia clapped a hand over her mouth in shock and seeing this, Loras grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her away, holding her close so she was unable to hear the explicit conversation, Garlan doing the same for Margaery while the three brothers spoke in hushed whispers.

“He had her up against a wall, her cheek was bruised from the wall,” Garlan hissed. “Bloody pervert was going to shame her. If Maya’s voice was not so strong, we wouldn’t have heard.”

Willas growled, making Maya jump in shock but he dropped to his knees and rubbed her knees gently, “You’re safe now Mayaka. I promise.”

Lifting his head, he turned to Garlan, “Get her to her room and have her handmaiden give her a hot bath.”

Garlan obeyed and scooped up his sister before departing, Margaery and Lillia following to help, leaving Loras and Willas alone in the great hall.

“Is she going to be alright?” Loras whispered.

Willas nodded, “She will…”

“But not for long,” another voice boomed.

The two boys spun around to see their father standing there. “This is just the beginning of the storm. Maya’s powers are going to cause problems if this does not stop.”

“Haven’t you noticed!?” Willas growled. “Every time there is another damned party, all the men within twenty years of Maya’s age are ogling at her and everyone who is much too old for her is practically eye stripping her!”

“And why do you think that is?” Mace inquired. “Because of her beauty? If that was the case, then it wouldn’t be Maya they were staring at but Margaery.”

Loras had the deep urge to hit his father for those words about their sister but Willas gripped his arm to keep him still.

“They are after her not because of her looks but because of what she has to offer besides her body: her powers. Because of her powers, men all over are after her in order to get revenge on us, to gain in power or in the hopes of producing strong and possibly similarly gifted sons.” Mace observed. “There is only one option… she must leave.”

“LEAVE!?” Margaery bellowed. “No! She cannot leave! She is my sister! Father is mad! If Maya has to leave then I am leaving too!”

“Margie,” Maya sighed from her spot at the dinner table. “It’s okay… father has a point. Not only am I drawing attention to myself because of my powers but it could also result in our family getting hurt. People could wage war just in order to get my powers and for all we know, they could start harming you or Loras, Willas, Garlan or even Lillia to get to my powers. This is not about me… it is about what is inside me.”

“That doesn’t make you responsible!” Margaery cried. “You didn’t choose to have powers! You shouldn’t have to take responsibility!”

“Then who will?” Maya asked. “Margie… I am the one who has the powers, I am the one who can manipulate water and speak to ocean creatures… so I am the one who should make sure that it does not bring ruin and destruction to our family. I will do as father suggests… I will leave.”

“But where will you go?” Loras asked, tears pricking his eyes and his voice cracking with pain.

Maya glanced over at their father and all eyes fell on him. “Kings Landing,” Mace Tyrell announced. “No one would expect to find a Rose among the lions. You can seek employment there. No one would go looking for a Tyrell who is working in Kings Landing.”

Willas gripped his goblet tightly, gritting his teeth when his father told his daughter to get a job just because he was the one who chose to send his eldest daughter away because of her powers instead of trying to protect her. He was only protecting his rule and his own stupid life. He didn’t even care if someone tried to rape Maya in Kings Landing.

“Very well father,” Maya sighed, biting back the tears. “I will leave in two week’s time.”

Flashback end: present day

“So, your name is Maisie?” the captain inquired.

Maya smiled and nodded, “Short for Marissa.”

The man nodded before pointing toward the approaching Kings Landing harbor. “We will be stopping soon and then you may depart. There are merchants, employers, all kinds of people standing at the dock waiting for people who have nowhere to go and are seeking people to work for them. I would advise not going with any of them. They tend to be the kind of people that pretend to own a trade but are just after… you know…”

Maya nodded, “Where should I look then?”

“The city itself,” the man suggested. “If you have a talent for cooking and baking, search for the baking shops or perhaps even in the kitchens of the manor itself. Find a target and search there. I wish you the best of luck lass.”

Maya smiled as the man walked back to the wheel. Discreet… hidden… where no one would expect to find you… those were the last words that Maya heard from her father. Working in the kitchens would work but there were more chances of someone recognizing her, especially Cersei Lannister… she needed to make sure that no one recognized her.

Reaching into her bag, she located a long black scarf and began to wind it around her head until nothing, but her eyebrows and ocean blue eyes were visible. She felt the ship slow and she slowly climbed off the ship amongst the other passengers. She saw all the others all fan out and being greeted by friends or family… she also spied many strangers looking at her with smirks and she began to walk towards the streets, pretending to know where she was going.

She began to run all the possible trades over and over in her head. Where could she go? Fabric shop? Chances of a fine lady or lord seeing her there that could recognize her were pretty high… might as well just work as poop shoveler…. Then she saw it. A woman standing near a fruit stand. Her brown hair was cut short like a man’s but looked beautiful beneath the lace red veil that she wore around her head that was barely transparent, revealing rather beautiful features but Maya spied a scar that ran vertically down the woman’s cheek.

Not wanting to appear to be rude by staring, Maya turned to move when the woman turned and locked her eyes on Maya. For a moment the woman’s deep brown eyes widened before slowly approaching Maya. Maya didn’t want to look like a criminal by running so she allowed the woman to approach her before the woman began to unwind her veil, revealing that there wasn’t one but two scars on her face.

“Are you lost child?” she asked, her voice soft but kind.

Maya shrugged, “I am looking for work… but the only options are where I can be recognized or were, I have to do things I am uncomfortable doing.”

The woman smiled and Maya felt her heart relax. “Are you running from someone?”

“You could say that.” Maya explained. “Someone who was going to either hurt me or my family…”

Nodding, the woman put the veil back on her head, “Well, I have a job for you if you want it. I promise you could keep the scarf on so no one will recognize you and you would not have to do anything uncomfortable, just serve food and drink and help cleaning.”

Maya beamed and the woman must have seen the joy in Maya’s eyes for she smiled. “Thank you…”

“Why don’t you come by with me?” the woman inquired, “Check it out, see if it is for you?”

Maya nodded and began to follow the woman, unaware that where she was going was going to change her life.

[thewitchqueen281]

Experiment 808 AU

Hey so I did actually have someone show some interest in this AU, but I’m awful at formatting so I'm just making a separate text post. Read about each character under the cut. A bit about the setting. It’s pretty distant future, this big lab in the middle of the city was commissioned to make a ton of super soldiers. Not knowing where to start they just... started kidnapping kids. Like from their cribs and everything. Not legal but they can like start from scratch there. By the time most of them are ten they’ve been tortured and beaten and do not want to be there. So they just escape. Because like what are they going to do to stop a bunch of kids with powers.  They run free into the city. They stay hidden in bunkers and hideouts. They are all about 15~16 ish. I haven't decided whether or not Al is still a year younger or if they are twins so, for now, its up too you. 

Anyway, enjoy these stupid teens.

Ed 

Has gills on his neck and sides, and dragonfly wings.

the wings are red and while he can fly fast can’t fly for a very long time. 

Instead of his traditional black tank top and coat, he wears one of those knit sleeveless turtleneck things with his red coat that ties around in the front.

Anyone with gills is bioluminescent underwater, he glows red in his face and all around his arms.

he wears a different outfit because it hides his wings and his gills. 

still kind of a little shit. 

knows all the other kids, is friends with most of them surprisingly. 

lives with his brother, Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeyes, and Denny Brosh in an abandoned library on the west side of the city. Because they are the kids he trusts the most.

he would live with Ling, Lan Fan, and Winry. But Ling and Lan Fan don't really live anywhere and Winry travels between all the kid's hideouts making sure they didn't break anything.

Likes knives, like really really likes knives

has like twenty on him at all times. 

he actually meets Ling by throwing a knife at him and getting really pissed that he missed. 

Roy Mustang 

Has a salamander tail, sometimes breaths a small bit of fire. 

Doesn't really like people at all. 

is four ten and has a lisp and you can pry this headcanon away from my cold dead hands. 

frequent all-nighters, whether playing video games or trying to master fire breath. 

Wears really baggy cargo pants, he likes the pockets. 

has a haircut with two very long pieces of hair in the front and kinda shitty bangs. 

he regrets this haircut. 

he’s best friends with Riza and Ed because Riza and Ed are also wild kids who won't stop him from jumping off really high places or putting bugs in Al’s tea. 

Likes lollypops, no one is sure why he just thinks they taste nice. 

huge crush on Jean Havoc from the group uptown, The others make fun of him. 

Riza Hawkeye 

Has a cheetah tail and likes to R U N

She's a very fast girl, for a long time everyone thought that was one of the abilities given to her during her time in the lab.

it's not  

she just likes to run. 

despite being a wild teen is the second most sensible one in their group. Has had to drag Roy to bed, but almost everyone has had to do that once or twice.

cant cook for shit. like really. she hates cooking shes so bad at it. 

everyone expects her to be the mom for some reason like they think she cooks and cleans. 

shed rather die, Ed cooks, they take shifts cleaning.

loves long skirts and horror novels. 

likes to think she can talk to ghosts or summon demons. 

or maybe she can. 

nobody really knows. 

Talks to herself on occasion. 

Al 

Has gills like his brother. Very small antlers as well.

glows blue underwater near his ears and around his legs. He and his brother have matching symbols on their backs.  

wears a blue hoodie to cover the antlers. 

The actual Mom Friend TM 

Enjoys tea and not having to deal with his brother and CO’s bullshit. 

for once would like to sleep in. just once. 

Would be a wine mom but he is responsible and doesn't drink while underage, unlike almost all of his friends who really don't seem to give a shit.

Sassy, like, really sassy. 

bad at hiding his emotions. 

you will know when he thinks your being a dumbass.

*looks into the camera like he's on the office* 

“Al me and the others are going to jump off the top of the building and see with we can stop ourselves.” “Good luck brother.”

Is friends with everyone and really he loves them all but goddamn. 

One time Ed dated a real shit head and you don't want to know what happened after he dumped Ed. he isn't dead but he won't be walking anytime soon.

Denny Brosh

Has Squid tentacles under his arms and fins on his legs. He glows a bright yellow underwater. 

Knits, like a lot. Every one of them has a homemade sweater from him. the others he lives with wear theirs all the time. Because they do gross things like care about one another in this household. 

Is still really good friends with Maria Ross, he wishes they saw each other more. 

can and will shock you with his tentacles, especially if you make jokes about them. 

Meme dream team leader. 

Al doesn't understand memes and Denny hurts every day because of this. 

has a bright yellow sweater that he knitted himself and then had every single one of his friend sign.

Thinks Kain Furey is super cute. Roy thinks he's super gross because Furey is an innocent Denny!

wholesome meme some days sex jokes on others. 

pretty much all the kids have pretty severe mental health issues, but Denny is one of the few who has tried to help his. 

takes anxiety meds. 

while he doesn't have any sibling this timeline he has his friends and honestly they are pretty close to siblings. 

has called Ed big brother but like everyone has once or twice. Ed doesn't really give a shit and has accepted his fate as the oldest and apparently the most brother like. 

Maria Ross 

Lots a scales, like all over her body. 

has wings but she isn't sure what animal they could be from.

they are big and scaley like her. 

Lives with Olivier, Mei Chang, Sheska, and Winry Rockbell when she's around. They live in an old dinner on the east side of town. 

Would date Sheska 100%. 

Sorta has claws, doesn't matter she enjoys painting them. 

Good friends with Olivier, actually best friends. This is a problem in some ways because Olivier and Denny don’t get along at all. 

Has a gun, only used it once or twice to protect her friends. 

she hopes she never has to use it again.

Sometimes wonders what her family would be like if she hadn't grown up in a lab. Wonders whether of not her family sold her or if she was stolen. She wonders for the other kids as well.

Breaths and cries ice. 

prefers if her friends called her Ria 

Olivier Armstrong  

This bitch got bat wings

they are fucking huge. 

she can’t really hide them so she only goes outside at night. 

she has become a cryptid. 

blurry shitty pictures of her crouching on buildings wings extended, her eyes glowing are all over forums. 

Batgirl strikes again?? 

she thinks its super funny. 

Doesn't really try to hide how she's feeling. 

most of the time she’s Arragont or amused.

Anime character tch. 

Her list of people she dislikes is bigger than the list of people she likes. 

that's a lie she loves all her friend's

she’s just bad about showing it and claims to hate them. 

everyone calls her Livi. 

she hates it but nobody cares. 

keeps her hair in a ponytail.

Mei Chang

has a cat tail, and night vision.

Please don't make any jokes. 

she doesn't want this.

People sometimes pull her tail. they only pull it once though. People learn from their mistakes.

wears a big pink coat with lots of pockets. she keeps both dead mice and her kunai in the pockets. 

Is Winrys assistant when she's around.

loves to help. is crushing on Al from the west side library. Everyone knows but Al. Ed and Ling think that is hilarious. Like it didn't take them months to get over themselves. 

Ling is her half-brother. She isn't sure how trustworthy the info is because it’s something she heard from lab technicians. 

Wants to learn to fight better but nobody wants to spar with her. 

Sit’s up at night and stares at her coffee. 

it’s cold now but she can’t get to sleep. 

Winry Rockbell 

Has butterfly wings, emperor butterfly wings. They don't make her as fast as Ed but it is faster to fly than to walk and she can fly for pretty long periods of time.

automail isn't really a thing. So Winry does general doctor stuff.

she goes between bases and makes sure that everybody is healthy. 

most of the time that isn't the case so shes pretty much always working.

Thinks Mei is a wonderful helper.  

Wears her signature tube top. doesn't travel through populated areas and definitely doesn't by day.

Butterflygirl isn't as cool as a cryptid as Batgirl so she doesn't get much coverage. 

Will still hit you with a wrench don't test her. 

She carries it and her entire toolbox because she’ll be damned if she loses time for her machines while helping out these idiots.

Dating Mothman. 

Mothman is actually Lan Fan. this joke doesn't make a lot of sense to her because Lan Fan doesn't have moth wings. Ling and Ed tell her to shut up and go with it. She rolls her eyes fondly. 

Kain Fuery 

Has ant antenna. he can send messages across radio waves because of this. makes it easy to keep up with his friends. 

Lives with Jean and Rebbeca in what they think was once a club. It's unused now but it does have an underground bunker for some reason.

He is an innocent 

(He isn't) 

keeps a picture of some dog in his pocket. 

he needs it to keep up morale. 

yes, it is just a stock photo of a dog that he stole out a picture frame at wallmart a couple years ago.

He really likes animals. Ed and Roy hate going out with both him and Al in a pair because both of them insist on stopping to pet every dog and cat or whatever animal.

Functional Bi 

Jean Havoc  

Has fins he thinks. they are like spiky and help him swim better. they are all over his back and wrap around his arms. Has gills, and he tends to glow a bluish purple.  

he lives in the club but prefers to be near the docks. 

Loves to swim

Just call him Jean

Please god just call him Jean. 

Olivier and Maria butchered his last name so bad when he first meet him that he is permanently traumatized. 

he’s being dramatic but like, that's who he is??

Disaster Bi 

Pinning? His constant mood?

Ling Yao

Red panda tail and claws. 

Loves sweet things, like so much.

Can see in the dark, loves his night vision

Thinks Ed throwing knives at him is super hot

Ed is Concerned TM 

Doesn't really live anywhere. 

bounces around the bases with Lan Fan. 

Lan Fan is actually his twin sister but they haven't told Mei that yet.

he doesn't know why people don't just know.

Climbs in Ed’s window in the middle of the night. 

freaked Ed out the first time it happened but he got used to it. 

spars on rooftops in the middle of the day. 

For some reason, nobody seems to freak out. 

Kink is love and appreciation

doesn't actually know most of the other kids. Sometimes there will just be a different kid at the base and He’ll be like cool.

Everone knows about Ling though. 

Lan Fan

She has lunar moth wings. Although Winry seems to think they are from some type of butterfly like her. Ed and Ling know the truth and call her moth man. 

She flicks their faces for it. 

loves food. thinks it must be because lunar moths cant eat, that side of her wants to eat E V E R Y T H I N G. 

Or maybe she just has a huge appetite because Ling eats a ton as well. 

has night vision as well.

Is her last name Fan? Not even she knows. 

Everyone calls her Lan Fan though. 

Spars with Ling but prefers fighting with Ed because Ling holds back. Ed doesn't.

tries so hard not to scream at her friends. 

god, she tries so hard. 

This took so long. If you want to hear about specific characters request it and I’ll make another one of these. If anyone wants to write a fanfic send it to me, I’ll be the first one to kudos that ish.