#Who expects a dragon to come and pick your ass up?

[nyoomfruits]

osctober day nine

prompt: crown prince pairing: charles/oscar word count: 1k

“Oh, thank god,” Lando says, when they finally reach the top step of the winding stairs leading up to the highest turret of the castle.

“What,” Oscar wheezes. “Are you,” another wheeze. “Talking about?” He takes a moment to regain his breathing. “You didn’t have to walk up any of those stairs.”

The chipmunk sticks out his tongue at him. “No, but I had to listen to your annoying ass heavy breathing, so.”

“Right, I’m sorry for actually carrying you up all these steps,” Oscar says. “Next time you can walk yourself.”

“Animal abuse,” Lando states, scurrying down Oscar’s arm, digging his little nails into Oscar’s flesh as he makes his way down, makes his way to the giant wooden door at the end of the little hallway they’re standing in. “Also, fuck you, I saved you from that dragon.”

That’s. Actually that’s true. Oscar has to give him that. Sure, he mostly saved him by flirting with the dragon, and there was really only a 50/50 percent chance that was going to work but alas. It did. “Fine,” Oscar says, makes his way over to the door too. “Well, guess this is it.”

“Hm,” Lando says, looking at the door. “What if he’s dead?”

“The dragon?” Oscar asks, studying the lock. Nothing a standard lock picking kit shouldn’t be able to fix.

“What, no? God, I hope not. We have a date next week. No, you dumbass, the prince,” Lando says, sniffing at the door. “Doesn’t smell dead.”

“Well, let’s hope he’s alive, yeah? Or reward kind of depends on it. I don’t think we’re getting that outrageous bag of gold if we show up empty handed,” Oscar says, fiddling with the lock. “Fuck, this is a tricky one.”

“I mean, they never specified alive or dead,” Lando says, pensively.

“Still prefer alive,” Oscar mumbles around the tool in his mouth. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the door swings open. Lando squawks, and crawls back up to Oscar’s shoulder, half hiding behind his neck.

Oscar, still on his knees from where he was fiddling with the lock, looks up to come eye to eye with the Crown Prince of Ferrari in all his glory.

“My savior,” the Prince says. He’s. He’s quite pretty, actually. Also alive, so that’s. That’s good. Oscar wasn’t really looking forward to dragging a dead body back to court.

“Uh,” Oscar says, glancing up at the prince. “Just Oscar is fine, really.”

“Have you come to take me from this wretched tower?” The Crown Prince asks, looking at Oscar with big, beautiful eyes. Jesus fuck, they could have put that in the assignment, maybe. ‘Guy is unfairly pretty’. Oscar would’ve liked to know that. To prepare for. Well, whatever.

“Hey,” Lando chirps from Oscar’s shoulder, peering through the strands of hair curling at Oscar’s nape. “Don’t talk about my boyfriend’s home like that.”

“You haven’t even gone on your first date yet,” Oscar counters, before getting up and smiling a little stiffly at the prince. “We’re here to get you home, your Majesty.”

“Oh, Charles is fine,” Crown Prince Charles says. “So you are the brave knight who’s come to save me? The one who will become my husband?”

Oscar chokes on his own spit. Lando lets out a cackling laugh. “No, Mr. Prince. I’m really only here to take you home. Lord Sainz is expecting your return. And your hand in marriage.”

Charles cocks his head to the side. “But that’s not the rules, no? The rules are a brave knight comes to save me and then marries me and becomes prince of this lands as I become king.”

“Right, yeah, well you know what they say,” Oscar says, as he ushers Charles towards the stairs. “The times, they are a’changing. Also, I’m not a knight, so. There’s that.”

“Not a knight?” Charles is frowning, but lets himself be lead. “Lord?”

“Nope.”

“Count?”

“Also no.”

“Earl? Baron?”

“Nope and nope.”

“He’s quite useless, actually,” Lando chirps happily from Oscar’s shoulder.

“Thanks, Lando. Fuck you too,” Oscar says. Lando makes a loud smacking kiss sound. “But no. Merely a Blacksmith.”

“A blacksmith?” Charles asks, clearly confused.

“The one and only,” Oscar says. “Now, I’m pretty sure the dragon is head over heels in love with Lando here, so as long as he’s with us he won’t hurt us, but just in case we should be careful,” he adds, as they enter the main hall.

“He has a sick ass sword,” Lando says. “It’s very big.”

“Oh?” Charles says, glancing as the dragon as they pass it, who just blinks at them. “Please tell me more about your big ass sword.”

“Sick ass,” Lando corrects, as Oscar considers if it’s too late to just throw both of them into the lava pit.

“It’s big, it stabs things, it does the job,” Oscar grouches, as he pushes them on.

Charles looks him up and down appraisingly. “I’m sure it does.”

Oscar pauses then, right on the rickety wooden slat bridge across the lava pit. “Listen, Mr. Prince. I’m really only here to save you, bring you back to Lord Sainz in one piece, and then collect a big bulking bag of money, yeah? So I don’t know what fantasies you’ve been told about your savior, but I’m not here to fulfill them. Now can we please get a move on.”

Charles smile slips of his face. “Right, I. Right. It was silly of me, anyway. To fantasize these things, you know? The hero coming to rescue you, sweeping you off your feet… I’m sorry. I’ve been uh. I’ve been quite attached from real life for a while, so,” he smiles a little sadly. “You know how it gets. Anyway. Where are we going?”

Oscar feels a pang of sympathy all of a sudden. Charles has been stuck in that tower for so long, and he must have been dreaming about this day, about the day he’s free and well. Then he got Oscar. That must be… A little disappointing, at least.

But it’s okay. Soon, they will be back in the kingdom of Ferrari, and Charles will be able to marry Carlos, and he will get his happy ending, and it will all be fine.

They just have to get through the journey home first.

“Home,” Oscar simply says, and reaches his hand out to Charles, a piece offering.

Charles takes it, a soft smile on his face, and Oscar leads him off the slat bridge, into the great wide unknown.

They don’t stop holding hands until the sun sets and it’s time to turn in for the night. Charles talks the whole way, and Oscar listens, and wills his heart to stay quiet. He’s a blacksmith. There’s paths in life for a guy like him. His biggest price would be the giant bag of gold. Not a prince. Never a prince.

Charles is nice. But Charles has a home. And Oscar… Oscar and Lando and their giant bag of gold will just have to go out and try to find their own. ��

[mypearlsareclutched]

You're Just Another One of my Problems

High By The Beach | Chapter Nine

Modern!Aegon II x Original Female Character, Modern!Aemond x Original Female Character

Viserys Targaryen is dead. His death brings unlikely people together, and drives others apart. Mila is unsure about her place amongst the Targaryen clan, her feelings are complicated. Does she stick by brother she fell for first, or the one she fell for harder?

RIP Vizzy T you're serving Targaryen realness in the afterlife (and grooming minors too, probs). I kept going ham with this chapter and it ended up being 8k words so I split it up and now it's 5k and the next one is going to be 5k+ so y'all will be eating good bbgs x

Song inspiration | High By The Beach, Lana Del Rey

CW//TW: Family death, funerals, reunited at last, Targaryen daddy issues, major angst, captain love triangles, Aemond's 'I can fix this' ass, toxicity, mourning, also Morning the dragon but she's a chihuahua, canon character death, colourful language, Daemon, Otto, no-one is happy.

Word count | 5.1k

previous chapter // next chapter

Mila decides to travel with Aemond and Aegon back to King's Landing for Viserys' funeral.

After Aemond went to bed the night of the Targaryen patriarchs death, Mila sought out Aegon. She found him sitting on the floor of their shared bedroom, looking lost. Unsure of... everything, she simply joined his side, letting him rest his head against hers as they sat in silence.

Aegon was unsure of leaving the beach house. The morning after thr news of Viserys' assing, as Aemond threw various items into his SUV and waited outside for the other two to join him, Aegon stood outside, watching the waves with a blank expression. Mila watches him from the kitchen window, a crease forming between her brows.

Joining his side, she comforts him as she too peers at the ocean beyond. "We'll come back."

"You promise?" Aegon asks, voice uncharacteristically quiet and somber.

"I promise." 

He brushes the back of his hand against hers, the feeling of his soft skin comforting both of them. They share a look, words spoken silently before they turn and head off to join Aemond.

Opting to leave Aegon's battered and ancient car, the three pile into Aemond's car. The long, two day drive was painfully silent, no Cocteau Twins playing, no idle conversation, no Aegon swearing at passing drivers. Aegon slept in the back seat, Aemond taking Mila's hand into his own as he drove wordlessly. 

When they arrived back in Kings Landing, Mila felt an overwhelming feeling of dread. Like she wasn't supposed to be here, like she left herself back in Old Town. Aegon had paled during the drive, his smile vanished and his eyes haunted, and Mila knew he felt the same.

Aemond took a call from Otto, nodding along with his grandfather as he told him the plans for the funeral. He and Aegon were expected at the Targaryen estate, to prepare for the formalities. Aemond sighs as he ends the call, absentmindedly holding Mila's hands in his own as he looked out at the city scape. 

"I'm going to head to my brothers." Mila says, looking down at their enclasped hands, "I need to talk to him. I've been AWOL since Weirwood and we haven't spoken."

Aemond regards her silently, nodding. He pokes his tongue into his cheek, choosing his words wisely.

"Alright." He finally says, though his hand remains clutching hers, "The funeral is the day after tomorrow. Do you want me to pick you up from Cregan's?"

"Probably not a good idea to show your face there." Mila muses softly, pressing her lips together as she remembers Cregan's rage at Aemond for his actions that led to her overdose. Cringing almost noticeably, Aemond nods. "I'll be at the house at seven."

"I'll see you then." He leans down to press a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering. Mila presses her eyes closed, pulling back. Aemond's eyes flicker with disappointment, but Mila pretends not to notice as she takes a step back.

"See you then." 

She turns and looks to Aegon, who stares straight ahead, trying to not look at the interaction between his brother and the woman he loves. He pulls out his battered back of cigarettes, lighting one up and taking a drag. His eyes never meet hers. With an internal sigh, Mila leaves them both.

Knocking on Cregan's door, she braced herself for whatever kind of explosion that would be waiting for her.

The front door opens, and a familiar yet unexpected face greet s her. Rhaena gasps, flinching like a phantom was standing on the doorstep.

"Mila? Mila!" She exclaims, jumping and wrapping her arms around her, "Oh my fucking gods I can't believe you're here! You're okay! Oh my gods, Mila!"

"Mila?!" Cregan's voice yells from inside the flat, and his heavy footsteps echo down the hallway. Rhaena barely lets go of her friend before Mila is snatched up by her brother. His immense height and strength means he grabs her like she weighed nothing, pulling her off her feet and crushing her to his chest.

Mila laugh breathlessly, pressing her cheek to her brothers chest, the beating of his erratic heart could be heard through the old, white t-shirt he wore.

Cregan lets go of her, putting his hands on her shoulders to look down at her with wide eyes, "Where the fuck were you? Oh my gods, Mila, I was so fucking worried!"

"I called you." She tries to explain, placing her hands on his own.

"I broke his phone." Rhaena sighs guiltily, "I bought him a new one! But you... don't have his new number." She looks between them, looking crestfallen at the notion that she was the reason Cregan did not receive any of Mila's calls.

"Don't beat yourself up, sweetheart." Mila chuckles, taking Rhaena's hand in her own, "Next time I'll send a raven."

A huffed laugh escapes Cregan's lips, as he runs his hand over his face. Mila's mind finally kicks into gear, and she looks between her friend and her brother with furrowed eyebrows.

"Why are you here?" She asks the pale haired woman. Rhaena's eyes widen, and she gives her a shy smile. Cregan crosses his arms as he leans against the apartment door, nudging Rhaena to explain. Yet she remains silent, pressing her lips together as she nudges him back for him to explain to his sister.

"You two...?" Mila looks between them, "No fucking way, are you back together?!"

Rhaena blushes, smiling up at Cregan, "Kind of...?"

"Gods if I had known disappearing would bring you two back together I would have done it ages ago!"

"Not funny. Ridiculously unfunny" Cregan sighs, flicking her nose, his expression turning grim once again, "Why did you leave the clinic?"

Mila bites her lip, face darkening as she looks around the empty corridor where they linger, "Can we talk inside?"

"Oh my gods, of course!" Rhaena grabs her wrist, pulling her into the flat, "Come in, come in!" Momentarily forgetting about the owner of the flat, she shuts the door on Cregan's face as he stands outside.

"My apartment." Cregan grumbles with a sigh, though his voice is soft with affection for the Targaryen girl. He opens the door again, glaring half-heartedly at Rhaena's back as she drags Mila towards the kitchen. Cregan's apartment, bought with his giant footballer's paycheck, is completely open plan. The centre of the flat is the living room, with a conversation pit in the middle. The kitchen curves around one side, with the bedroom on the other side, an ensuite bathroom attached. Mila tries to not notice various items of Rhaena's clothes scattered across the floor.

"Tea? Tea." Rhaena drops Mila's wrist to flit around the kitchen, turning on the kettle and grabbing mugs as quick as a whippet.

"Rhaena, please, you're giving me whiplash." Cregan groans, wrapping an arm around her waist to halt her erratic movements and putting her down in the middle of the kitchen.

"Sorry, sorry." She laughs, running a hand over her locks. Her eyes follow Cregan's slower movements, her blush deepening.

"Great, I'm nineteen again." Mila groans, and Rhaena averts her eyes.

"Speaking of being nineteen again." Cregan grumbles as he leans against the counter next to the boiling kettle, raising an eyebrow at his sister, "Where did you go? I thought your vanishing into thin air days were over?"

"They are." Mila sighs, sitting at the kitchen table with her head in her hands, "It's... well, it's a long story."

"Start at the beginning."

"It's the best place to start." Mila murmurs, accepting a cup of steaming tea from her brother, "So... I sort of freakout out and spiralled at the clinic-"

"Why?" Rhaena asks conversationally.

Because I almost kissed my ex-boyfriends older brother. "I started overthinking everything with Aemond, about what he said and how I felt like a disappointment for relapsing. I just... needed to escape."

Rhaena nods, her eyes sympathetic. Beside her, Cregan busies himself with stirring his tea, his jaw clenched as he listened to her tell her story.

"So I left. I hitchhiked back to Kings Landing, went to Alysanne Martells and joined the old gang at Madame Sylvie's. I got drunk and high and stupid. But it was all ok until I got into some trouble. With Jason Lannister..."

"I heard something happened with him." Cregan nods, "His brother Tyland snatched him up after he had a weird meltdown about the Targaryens, no-one's seen him since. What happened, Mila?"

"It doesn't matter now."

"Did he try to hurt you?" Cregan asks, his voice low and dangerous.

Cregan knew about what Jason was like a few years ago. He was notorious for dealing drugs to famous folk, and for taking advantage of women who were in dire need of a hit. Mila had fallen victim of him a few times when she was a teenager, and Jason gained a few broken bones from Cregan's rage subsequently. But Jason never learned, and Mila could tell Cregan was worried about what he did that night.

"Aegon saved me." Mila states simply, "That's all that matters."

"Is it true he broke Jason's nose?" Rhaena asks, eyes wide, "Floris said she saw him and it was all bent outta shape like a tree root."

"Sounds accurate." Mila chuckles, shaking her head.

Cregan watches Mila, his face pensive as he thinks about what she's said.

"So where did you go with Aegon? It can't have been anywhere in King's Landing, I looked everywhere."

"Everywhere?"

"Everywhere."

"He took me to Old Town. His families beach house." A small , "I got better. Mentally, emotionally. Started to feel normal again. Like I wasn't some... freak let down."

"it's hard to feel like you've hit rock bottom when you're standing next to Aegon Targaryen." Rhaena muses. "Nothing against my cousin... well, everything against my cousin. He's a lost cause."

"No he's not." Mila said assuredly, finding herself quick to defend him, "He's doing much better. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him"

"So, a few weeks at the beach, you're better and you're besties with Aegon 'the Mattress' Targaryen?" Cregan chuckles mirthlessly, suspecting there is more to the story than she let on.

"You sure you didn't get high by the beach?" Rhaena asks, chuckling at her own joke.

"What's funny."

Mila jumps as someone else groans, looking around to spot the .

"Jace?" She laughs, spotting a head of fluffy dark hair popping up from the conversation pit. He looks around blearily, blinking at her. He waves slightly, before clutching his head and falling back onto the red couches.

"What was the joke?" He calls out.

"High By The Beach, by Lana Del Rey?" Rhaena laughs, before her face falls and she looks at Cregan, "How long has he been here?"

"...I have absolutely no idea." Cregan groans, walking over to the pit, "Jace, get the fuck out of my flat." He grabs a couch cushion and smacks Jace with it.

Mila stayed at Cregan's that night. The urge to go back to her own apartment never came, and the thought of being alone made her feel stomach twist into knots. Not after spending weeks with Aegon always at her side...

Ignoring her insistence that she could sleep in the conversation pit (once Rhaena had dragged Jace out of the flat by the scruff of his neck), Cregan had further insisted that she sleep in his bed. Before the conversation was over, Cregan had sprawled all six foot four inches of himself across the red cushions of the retro pit and conked out, leaving Mila to unceremoniously collapse onto his fur covered bed.

Rhaena had come back the next morning with a spare black outfit for Mila to wear to the funeral, something that she was immensely grateful for. She and Baela had turned up bright and early, rising before the sun.

They turned up with their dogs, Moondancer and Morning, at their heels. Moondancer, a dalmation with the prettiest, most judgmental eyes, had greeted Mila with a nudge of her head and a few barks that sounded way too reprimanding. While Morning, a baby chihuahua, had crawled onto Cregan's sleeping form in the pit and fallen asleep on his shoulder.

Baela stares at Mila with wide eyes after she confesses everything that happened. Since Viserys' birthday a month ago, to his funeral tonight. Including all the gory details of drugs, the beach house in Old Town, big Tesco and fucking both the Targaryen brothers. A detail she would have preferred not to hear about her two cousins.

"Gods wept, Mila, this is bad." She groans, holding a chipped mug in a well manicured hand.

"Thanks! I'll be sleeping on the highway tonight." Mila sighs.

"You need to talk to Aegon."

"You think?" The Stark says sarcastically, pouring more expensive coffee into her and Baela's mugs.

"Yeah." Baela smiles, patiently ignoring the other woman's sass, "I'm not the biggest fan of my cousin, but from what you've said, he's changing. Or at least trying to. And that's more than I've ever seen of him. He must know you're special."

"Stop it bae." Mila sighs as she puts the mugs down, running a hand over her face. Baela stands up from the table, walking around Mila to wrap her arms around her from behind, resting her head on her shoulder. Mila sighs into her, resting her temple against the other woman's head.

"It'll be okay, Mimi."

"Y'all have the worst nicknames for me." Mila laughs.

"That's because we love you."

"Love you too, Baebae."

"Ugh." Baela groans, nipping Mila's shoulder, "Ready to go?"

"As I'll ever be." Mila sighs as she follows her friend towards the front door.

As they slipped on their heels and finished their appropriately somber makeup, Rhaena sat next to Cregan and kissed his nose.

"Can the dogs stay here during the funeral?" She asks him softly, though he was barely awake.

"Sure." He grumbles, glaring at Morning on his shoulder. Rhaena beams and kisses him lightly on the lips, joining her sister and Mila at the door as Moondancer replaces her on the bed, sneezing over Cregan.

The last thing they heard from the flat was Cregan's murmured "fucks sake..." as the dogs got comfortable on his bed.

Once they got to street level, Mila was already feeling anxious about the day ahead. Emotions would come to surface at the sure to be extravagant funeral for the head of the Targaryen dynasty, and the Stark did not know if she was ready for that yet. Baela held her hand as they headed towards their car,

Laena Targaryen, her married name remained due to the recentness of her divorce, was leaning against the sleek black car. She smiled warmly at the three as they appeared, kissing Mila's forehead quickly before they all climbed into the car.

At the Targaryen estate, Mila finds her movements are slow and sluggish as she gets out the car, her body and soul unwilling to face the Targaryen's now, in their state of

"You're not coming in, mum?" Baela asks her mother, fluffing out her hair as she sneers at the building ahead.

"If I have to see your father, he'll be spooning his brother in his grave before the day is up." Laena smiles from inside the car, kissing Baela's forehead as she leans in.

"If you need anything, please let me know. Baela and Rhaena really love you, so I have no choice but to love you too. You have my number, anything happens, you call me."

"Thank you, Laena." Mila smiles.

"Say 'hi' to Rhaenyra for me." She says finally, before sliding back into the car. Ah, yes, another one of the Realm's Delights many ex's, Mila thought to herself with a chuckle. No wonder Daemon and Laena's relationship ended badly, he probably could never compare.

"Ew, mom." Baela blanches, rolling her eyes at the retreating car. The two Dragon Sisters begin walking towards the estate, heels clicking against the cobblestone. Up ahead, more and more cars unloaded black-clad mourners, surrounding the already darkened Targaryen mansion with a sea of night.

Mila tries to bite back the dread inside her as she joins her friends' sides.

Spotting Rhaenyra and her children greeting mourners across the courtyard, the group head her way. Jace's face brightens immediately, a wild grin on his face as he practically sprints over.

"Finally! Gods this is already such a drag, I'm so glad you guys are here." He grins, grabbing Mila's hand.

"That's so inappropriate, Jace." Baela smacks the back of his head, "Your grandfather is dead, dumbass, act sad."

"I've been acting sad all morning." Jace rolls his eyes, throwing his arm over Mila's shoulder, jostling her, "My favourite Stark is back."

"You saw me last night, moron." Mila says affectionately, "And I won't tell my brother you said that."

"No, go ahead." Jace wiggles his eyebrows, "He shags better when he's mad."

"Gross. His girlfriend is right here."

"His mistress, you mean." Jace sticks his tongue out at Rhaena, who elbows him with a roll of his eye. He and Baela begin bickering, while Rhaena

Rhaenyra smiles sadly at Mila approaches, reaching out and taking her hands in her own.

"How are you feeling?" Nyra asks.

"I should be asking you that." Mila sighs, noting the aura of sadness around Rhaenyra. She was always her father's favourite, knowing him during his peak, when he was a formidable philanthropist and model father. Doting, proud, everything a father should be. Everything his other children never got.

At a time, Viserys Targaryen was known as a family man. Husband to a beautiful wife, father to the perfect daughter. Then his wife died in childbirth, their second child never once opening his eyes, and Otto Hightower got his claws into Viserys. Married a young, beautiful woman, had four more children, continued on with life. But Viserys Targaryen was bitter until he died, crippled and as cancerous as the disease that took him.

"I am... well, I will be alright." Rhaenyra sighs, looking over at the rest of the funeral goers.

The main door opens, and Aemond strides out. Despite herself, Mila's breath catches in her throat. He's dressed in a full black suit, perfectly tailored and hugging his lithe frame. A green tie clip, as well. Of course he would get a new, expensive suit for his father's funeral. If Mila didn't know any better, she would say he straightened his hair. It falls perfectly around him like a blanket of bright gold, his skin pale and flawless.

It's a shame he's so beautiful, it would be easier for Mila to hate him if her heart didn't flutter whenever she saw him

His lone eye lands on her, pale blue iris and dark pupil scanning over her. With a nod, Aemond extends his hand out. Even across the courtyard, with a hundred people between them, he watches only her.

Rhaenyra's hand grips Mila's harder, her eyes hardening as she looks at her half-brother.

"I should go over to him." Mila sighs, nodding her head resolutely. Giving her a cautious look, Rhaenyra keeps her hand in hers, giving her a reason to stay by her side.

"You don't have to." The older woman says softly.

"I do." The Stark replies, squeezing Rhaenyra's hand and kissing her cheek, before leaving her.

A hundred people milling about in waves of black might as well not be there, as Mila walks through like towards Aemond Targaryen. His hand remains out, palm up as he offers it for her to take. And as she meets him at the bottom of the steps, she does. Instinct wins again.

"Come on, the rest of my family is already inside." Aemond says, squeezing her hand as he turns and leads her inside the mansion.

There are less people inside. Mila recognises a few, like Borros Baratheon and Jason Lannister, and members of Viserys' advisory board like Jasper Wylde and a man named Orwylle. All of them offer murmured condolences to Aemond, eyebrows raised in intrigue as they lay eyes on the She Wolf beside him.

It's hard not to feel like a spectacle, Mila notes as she lets Aemond lead her towards the parlour.

The rest of the Targaryen's mill about. Alicent is recognisable despite her veil as she stands beside her father. She lets out a gasp as she sees Mila, rushing over to her to grab her into a tight hug.

"Sweet girl, you're alright...."

"I am." Mila squeezes the Targaryen matriarch back, before holding her at arms length to give her a somber look, "I'm so sorry, Alicent."

The older woman nods, face barely vible under her veil. Over her shoulder, Otto Hightower watches Mila like a hawk. Almost like he was summoned, Aemond returns to Mila's side, taking her hand again. As if to prove a point to his grandfather.

As gently as she could, Mila gently lets go of Aemond's hand, moving over to the other Targaryen siblings. Daeron brightens as he sees her, immediately rushing over and crushing her into a hug. Mila smiles as she smooths her hands over his back, feeling him sniff as he lays his head against her shoulder.

"How are you feeling, Dare?" She asks softly, leaning back to look at him as she holds his elbows. He sniffs again, looking around with glassy eyes.

"I don't know, Mila. Me and dad weren't close or anything, but... he was still my dad, y'know?" 

"I know, sweetie. I'm so sorry." Daeron holds her hands, squeezing them gratefully before he leaves room for Halaena to join their side.

"Hey Hel-" Mila starts, before she is cut off by Halaena hugging her. The second daughter of Viserys was never one for physical contact, even with her family, so Mila carefully wrapped her arms around the other woman, hand cupping the back of her head as Halaena sank into her, "It's okay, lovely."

"Missed you." Halaena murmurs, voice muffled by Mila's coat.

"Missed you too, bug." 

Mila keeps her arm around her as they seperate. Helaena leans into her, cheek against her covered shoulder as she stares out into the distance. The Stark's hand holds the Targaryen up, sensing her mind is elsewhere in this moment.

Across the room, another pair of blue eyes watches Mila closely. She tries not to make it obvious when she looks over at Aegon, who sits sprawled out on one of the sofas. He seems calm at first glance, and perhaps his anguish would only be noticed by those closest to him. Mila looks at him for a long moment, watching his somber face and twitchy eyes.

She wants nothing more than to go over to him. To sit at his side, hold him to her like she did in Old Town. To press a kiss to every inch of his skin until he felt right again. But under the watchful eye of Aemond and Otto Hightower, she couldn't.

Someone clears their throat, and all eyes turn to Criston Cole as he stands in the doorway, looking ever the dutiful servant as he stands with his hands crossed in front of him. He nods to Otto, a grim look on his face.

"It's time."

Finally, after many years of illness and waiting, Viserys Targaryen is laid to rest. Inside a black coffin, he is lowered into the ground in the family lot, his ancestors surrounding him.

Mila stands at Aemond's side as the septon delivers a eulogy, harmonised by rolling thunder above. Small drops of rainfall around them. Though looking around the mourners, the drops of rain would be the only water falling down their faces.

Aemond watches with a stoic face, his eyepatch dripping, seeing eye dry. He stares at the descending coffin with disdain, with relief. His hand cradles Mila's waist, holding her close to him as the rain slowly drenches them both. Whether he holds her for comfort, for warmth, or for possession, she does not know.

Alicent is pale beneath her veil, brow furrowed as if she is confused about how she should feel. Her eyes keep flicking to her father, who barely spares the coffin a glance as he continuously looks at those around him. Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, Daeron, Rhaenyra, Daemon, Mila. All of them are merely here to be observed.

Helaena stands between Baela and Rhaena, the Dragon Sister's forming a protective barrier for their favoured cousin. Daeron stands with Jace and Luke, near Rhaenyra. The only child of Viserys who cries over his grave.

Daemon stands away from the large group, simply watching his brother being lowered into the ground from across the way. His arms are crossed, in a show of boredom, that Mila can only read as protectiveness. A younger sibling watching his elder leave this world forever.

As Mila looks around at those witnessing Viserys' burial, her eyes finally travel to Aegon.

His eyes were already on her.

Her breath hitches when she catches him watching her. The soft blue of his eyes is perfectly visible to her, a soothing colour reminding her of the waves on the shore of Old Town.

Eyes moving down to rest on Aemond's protective grip on her, his gaze hardens. His eyebrows furrow, his face pales.

Mila shakes her head, trying wordlessly to tell him everything is okay. To tell him that nothing has changed. That it should be his side she stands at right now, his hand she holds as they bury his father.

Aegon mouths something to her, and Mila's heart flutters.

"I love you."

AN// Apology video with tears coming tomorrow after I post the next chapter... Thank you guys again for all of your likes and comments and reblogs y'all r crazy like me and I love you all <<33

Lula x

[oxymorayuri]

𝐶𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝟷𝟾

𝑇𝘩𝑒 𝑠𝘩𝑒𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑟

𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝐷. 𝑊𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟

𝐿𝑎𝑤 ✘ ♀ 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Tsuyomaru1a

Story: The princess of Tanata

[Long Fic]

➽ masterlist

Spoiler: nope

Warnings: nope

slowburn with plot

Wordcount: 2706

Text in italics emphasizes the reader’s thoughts

Bold and italic text emphasizes Law's thoughts *~*

Tagging: @slytherinambitious - @norasincubi - @cottoncandyloverrrr - @one-piece-frvr7 - @hopelesslover06 - @chillerkiller - @sassyyassi

After you got out of the water, you dried yourself with your cloak before putting your gown back on.

A rustling in the bushes brings you back to the night and you both quickly take up a fighting position.

Your eyes scan the surroundings. The rustling was definitely too big to be something harmless. You can almost feel something dangerous lurking in the dense forest.

This isn't exactly the right time, you think to yourself, clenching your dress in your fist. Of course you complain that you can't move properly in such dresses, but you would rather be in that position than in your underwear…

Your eyes drift over to Law, he has his back to you and is observing the surroundings.

Suddenly, a giant lizard leaps out of the bushes, similar to a Komodo dragon but with many sharp teeth. Law quickly reaches for Kikoku but you stop him before he can draw his blade and you start running.

With the Komodo dragon chasing you, you dash through the jungle, dodging the beast's powerful claws every time it lashes out.

“Why are we running?! I wipe out the beast in a matter of seconds!”

Law asks you while following close behind. holding his hand, you lead him through the depths of the jungle. It all looks the same, but you know where you're going.

Your eyes fall back on him.

“We don't kill the animals of the jungle.” Law's eyes widen, he is visibly surprised by the friendly smile on your face but he doesn't answer. He can already guess what your answer would be, if he asked you what would happen if your life depended on it.

While you constantly jump around to avoid the monster behind you, you see a sign in the distance on a tree that promises your rescue.

“Ahh there it is!”

You pick up speed and focus on the tree with the symbol. Just as the giant lizard opens its jaws to snatch you, you jump ahead and land on the tree with your feet, opening a trapdoor and slide down a shaft.

When you finally reach the ground, you barely manage to avoid crashing face first into the floor and find yourself standing on your feet. What you only forget is, that Law was right behind you…

Just as the noise behind you grew louder, you turned around and Law came flying out and landed right on top of you. He gave you a solid headbutt, knocking you to the ground and you rubbed your forehead with a groan.

You completely ignore the fact that Law is half on top of you, because you are way too busy feeling the pain in your ass and forehead.

Law jumped up abruptly. He couldn't see you in the dark, but he felt you very clearly. Your soft skin and the fact that you are barely clothed...

Feeling the weight of Law being lifted off you, you sit up. The darkness down here makes you blind but you can hear the flat breathing of Law.

“Law, are you all right?“ - ”Yeah, I'm fine, it was just a bit turbulent…” You hear his voice in the darkness… and he is closer than you expected. You get up carefully and make your way towards the dark until you come across a wall.

Feeling your way along the wall with your hands, you find a wall torch and light it. You use the torch to light other torches on the walls, and the room, which is an empty room, is filled with light.

Apart from two doors, there is absolutely nothing. After picking up your clothes from the floor with Law, you head towards one of the rooms.

“Where are we?” - “We are in a safety shelter. The symbol you saw earlier means 'emergency' and behind each of these symbols is a hiding place."

You answer Law, who is looking around in the second room. It is modestly furnished yet it has everything you need for a temporary stay. There is a small kitchen and a table with four chairs, along with some non perishable food. Nothing tasty, but enough to fill your stomach.

Since it gets quite cold in these shelters, which are dug deep into the ground, there is a fireplace and plenty of firewood. Law went straight to work making a fire, while you pulled out a box from under a bed.

In the box you found some blankets and towels but unfortunately no clean clothes, but at least you can take a hot shower here.

“Hey Law, I'm going to take a quick shower.” He turns to you whilst sitting by the fire and nods at you. After you took the much needed shower, you shorten and tear your dress, in order to make it comfortable for sleeping.

After you went back to Law, you pressed another towel into his hand and Law also disappeared into the bathroom, saying a small thank you.

While he is freshening up, you search through the supplies and see what you can do to make something tasty.

Since there isn't much besides rice, dried meat and spices, you don't have much leeway, but your growling stomach would be satisfied with anything right now.

You have no problem lowering your standards, so you cook the rice with a few spices and fry it.

A spiced scent fills the room when Law enters again, seeing you dividing the fried rice onto two plates.

The seasoning smells quite delicious and Law sits down at the table while his stomach growls.

“It's nothing special but it's all we have.” He looks up at your embarrassed face and grabs the cutlery to eat some of the rice.

You watch him eagerly as he eats the rice and hope for a positive reaction. After a few bites, he hums contentedly.

“This isn't so bad.“ Your heart leaps at his words and it shows on your face.

“Here, have some of the dried meat.” You push the bowl over to him with a grin. He thanks you with a nod and you both continue eating your dinner together in pleasant silence.

Law's skeptical glances keep looking over at your carefree face. He's not sure if you really are the princess... a princess who is usually dressed in magnificent fabrics, served the best food... And yet there you are, sitting in front of him, happily devouring the dried meat that lives up to its name, with your magnificent ball gown torn at the arms and legs.

Usually, the royalty is the complete opposite: spoiled and pampered.

“Are you okay?” His stare does not go unnoticed by you.

“Sure, everything's fine.” Glancing down at his bowl of rice again, he thought it made no sense to think about what kind of person you are.

His gaze makes you wonder, but you are reluctant to force him to talk and so your meal continues, once again in silence. After your meal, you wash the dishes, while Law dries and stores them.

Happily, you hum a little melody and scrub a plate thoroughly. You like being independent and also enjoy the quiet time with Law, even though you find it a little difficult to ignore his scanning gaze.

Why does he look at you like that? Is he going to avoid the question again?

“It's extremely rude to stare at people like that, you know.” you mention in passing while you give him the last plate to dry.

You gave him the chance for not talking about it, but if he keeps looking at you with that scrutinizing look, then he owes you an explanation!

While Law is collecting his words, you take a seat on the floor in front of the fireplace and pat beside you for him to join you.

“Be honest, what's going through your mind?” You look up at him as he hesitantly takes a seat next to you. His eyes watch the glimmer in your eyes, created by the fire, while he ponders what to say.

“It doesn't really matter.” - “It doesn't really matter?” You repeat his words in confusion and pull your knees up to your chest, gazing into the blazing fire.

“I don't really know what matters. I just know that if it's constantly on your mind, it carries a certain weight. Doesn't it?” Under the glow of the fire, your smile creates a whole new feeling for Law, one that he can't even classify. His lips move all by themselves when he sees you smile like that.

“I'm just wondering about you…” - “About me?” you're not surprised, you just want an answer. His eyes are speaking more words than he realizes and you hear every one of them.

"A princess should be crying about being stuck in a situation like this, rather than ripping her dress because it's more comfortable." A small giggle leaves your lips. That's the thing, you think to yourself.

“I'm y/n, not a princess… Being born a princess doesn't mean I aspire to be one.” Law actually knows what your views are. What your wishes and dreams are, so why is he having such a hard time understanding you?

“I want to be free, Law.” His name sounds soft like velvet when it leaves your lips. You just want to know who you can be.

“You make no sense.” No matter how confused he may be by you, the curiosity reflected in his eyes brings a hearty laugh from you.

Which answer can you give? You can't deny that it makes no sense to leave your peaceful country, especially if your duties keep you here, but your heart knows that your life should not end here.

Drowsiness overcomes you and so you decide to test the bed. Law follows your movements but remains sitting in front of the fire while you plop down on the bed. The bed frame cracks a little but seems stable enough.

“The bed may be a bit small, but there should be enough room for both of us.” you mention as you make yourself comfortable on one side of the bed.

"F-F-for both of us?!" he stutters wildly and stands with both feet firmly on the ground.

Cluelessly, you look up at him. Law seems a little anxious, as if he is horrified by your words, yet the reason why is not clear to you.

“That's simply not possible.” - “huh? Why?” Your words seem so natural, like it's no big deal, while you fluff the pillows.

“Come on, I'm definitely not going to let you sleep on the floor.” With an innocent face, you tap on the free side of the bed.

Law shakes his head slowly as his body stands stiffly in front of you. An annoyed groan escapes from your lips.

“What's your problem?” - “You're a woman.” His answer is curt and incoherent in your eyes.

“So?” You throw your hand up questioningly but he just swallows. You breathe deeply through your nose.

What on earth is wrong with him now?

"There's no harm in it, right?" You stretch your arms and let yourself fall onto your side. You shared a bed with Thalia all the time, slept in the garden with Bepo and even took a nap with Ambrosios after training. All completely platonic.

"Sleeping in company is pretty comforting." You shut your eyes and think back to the nights you used to share a bed with your parents. It was nice to be surrounded by loved ones while you slept and always snug and warm.

Law holds his forehead and squints his eyes as if he's in distress because of you.

“Are you that naive?” Surprised by his blunt manner, you tilt your head to one side.

“I-…” He speaks loud and clear while pointing to himself with his hands “…-am a man…” He waits a moment and stares at your blank face to see if you can follow his words "… and you y/n-ya, you are a woman." His index fingers rest on you.

You squint your eyes in disbelief. He can't be serious…

"Are you for real? It's not like we're going to climb on each other just because we're in the same bed…" Oh my goodness.

You can't stop yourself from laughing and snort with laughter. If you're naive, then he's thinking way too much.

"Well, yeah, not exactly…" He stutters a little, he hadn't expected the answer and scratches his chin.

"You don't have to worry about me, I wouldn't think of such things." - “I'm more worried about me…” he mumbles under his breath.

“Huh? What?” - ”Nothing!” He cuts you off and lies down on the bed with you. Even though you're curious about what he said, you're happy that he's lying next to you. Sleeping in company was no lie on your part.

After all, you're finally lying next to each other with your eyes facing the ceiling. You notice how heavy Law's breathing is. His breath sounds nervous, but that's probably just because sharing a bed with someone is a rather intimate thing, especially when that person is of the opposite sex.

But It simply calms you down, knowing you're not alone when you enter the land of dreams.

“Tell me Law, what's it like to be in the middle of the sea with nothing around you?” He glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

“It's breathtaking and a little frightening.” - “Frightening?”

"Yeah… When the sea is standing still around you and there's no land in sight, you realize you have no idea what's waiting for you at the end of the horizon." - “Wow…” His profound words touch you deeply and the feeling in your heart only grows because of his words.

“Do you want to see it?” - “Absolutely.” You don't know when yet, but you won't give in to your grandfather. You are an adult.

“But there's still a lot to do first…” - “And what's that?” He turns his gaze back to the ceiling and tries to hide his interest.

"I discovered something interesting written in the ruins, something that could help me fulfill my duties… even if I wasn't present here." - " Is it really impossible for this country to survive without your powers?"

Since day one, Law has been curious about the ritual that prevents you from leaving this island. He had imagined how this island would die like a plant, but that seems too far fetched. You exhale feeling exhausted.

“Not really.” It's difficult to explain it when you're not allowed to explain anything, but you can't get any further on your own and you can't talk to the people you're allowed to talk to…

The secrets of the ruins are well protected and sometimes you have to solve puzzles to be sure you're worthy of receiving the following information.

"There's a ruin that I'm pretty sure I'll find what I'm looking for." You raise one arm in the air and look at the tattoo on the palm of your hand. It reminds you that your entire existence is a secret.

“And what are you waiting for?” - "It's difficult to find your way around in this building. The building is laid out like a labyrinth.” - “Well, there are a few tricks… For example: lay a trail.” You laugh a little, it's not as if you've already thought of it.

"The problem is that the labyrinth moves…" - “It moves??!” - “And not only that. There are lots of puzzles to solve… Puzzles that I can't solve on my own.” You look at him cautiously, allowing yourself to wish that Law would offer you his help.

“Maybe I can help you? After all, two heads are better than one.”

Hey babes, I hope you liked it :3

Kiss kiss, your yuri

➽ Next chapter (Not available yet)

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🌹 [ Motion sickness of a Dragon Slayer ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : It was already the second day of the grand magic games and you seriously didn't understand why they let Sting compete in the race. So now you had a sick Dragon Slayer on your hands, who was way to stubborn to admit it was a stupid idea to not let Orga or Yukino go.

Pairing : Sting x Gn! Reader

Word count : 625

Genre : Fluff

➵ Warnings ;

a/n : I can barely find Fairy Tail content, so now I've made it my resposibility to write fors this awesome show, starting with my all time favorite boy.. Sting! <3

I also just finished the grand magic games arc, so perfect to write for Sting!

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

Why did he have to be so stubborn? It would have been much smarter to let one of the others compete.. But no that dumb ass with the adorable smile had to go up against Fairy Tails Natsu Dragneel and Gajeel Redfox. You understood that he wants to beat Natsu, the one he looked up to for years.. But did it really have to be in a race on moving carts?! Jiemma was so mad, Sting and the whole team couldn't allow themselves another slip up, or the whole guild would feel his rage.

“Sting it's me, I'm coming in.” Entering his room in the inn the guild was staying at, he was laying on his side, clutching his stomach. Beside his bed a little bucket just in case. Well at least it was good to know Sting and Rogue weren't the only Dragon Slayer with this issue. “Lectors out with Rogue and Frosch, they'll pick up some soup for you.” Upon the mentioning of food, the blonde poorly clutched his mouth, letting out a low groan, warning to not mention food again.

Setting the bowl of water you were carrying onto the nightstand, you take a seat at his side. Stings eyes averted. Of course. Ashamed is what he felt when he stood in front of Jiemma, of front of the whole guild.. And he still feels like this. Taking the rug from the water, you carefully wring out the excess water, before rubbing it softly over his face. A content sigh could be heard, as Sting turns onto his back, so you had better acess to his face. Poor boy, he looked completely out of it.

“Feeling better a bit?” Looking at him now, he nods. Eyes closed. For once he had a soft look on his face, no scowl, no sadistic smirk. Deep down he was a hurt little boy wanting to prove himself to whoever. It's sad what this guild made out of him.

“Sting! You're awake!” A cry could be heard, as the little red exceed jumped onto the bed, followed by Rogue and Frosch. “You should really think a little more before jumping straight into the games.” Rogue had a little annoyed look on his face, as he sets the bag with the soup on the table, the green cat letting out a little – Fro thinks so too. The two exceed seriously were the most adorable little beings ever. “Sorry you had to take care of him for being careless.” Words now directed to you, making you let out a little laugh. “Oh it's fine, at least I get to spend some time with my favorite Dragon Slayer.” Ruffling Stings hair now slightly, Lector letting out a surprised scream – at how someone could just touch Sting like that. The later now wearing his usual scowl on his face, with a little twist – he was blushing madly, averting his gaze to the other side and away from you.

Now that Sting was finally feeling better, it was time for the battles of the day. Following them back to the arena, Lector comfortably in your arms. Even if he didn't want to admit it, Lector liked you a lot. The battles were interesting to say the least, especially Mirajane against Jenny. What a show truly. So lastly now Yukino. Of course you were cheering for the white haired stellar magician. You two were quit close. Just like you were with Sting and Rogue. But at the end, she fell. Laying on her back and staring at the sky, tears streaming down her soft features. This was bad. Jiemma will not like this.

The evening and night to come.. were definitely something no one would have expected to happen.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Weasley Siblings With A Chubby Partner

Yes I’m projecting. Shush. It’s hard to lose weight when you have heart problems lemme have this

Warnings: 16+ There isn’t any sex, but there will be sexual themes. Also talks about fat phobia, bullying and such. Along with a small bit of food struggles and topics of eating problems

Writing Comission’s Open

William ‘Bill’

There is just something so nice about it. He himself is a, rather, thin and lanky man. The job quite literally sucks the life out of you. So you are always such a massive comfort to him. How you are able to help him stay so warm, and how he can just wrap his arms around you. Let his bones rest, after a long day, and embrace you. To be able to share a big meal with you, and have it adored. Since being a curse breaker is so draining, it’s a given that comfort food is left and right. So there’s something so kind in sharing it with someone, instead of eating alone. There is also something so thrilling about it all. Whenever the full moon comes around, and he has handfuls to enjoy. To have so much flesh and skin to bite and claw at. Make sure everyone’s knows who you belong to. He likes it, he won’t lie. Especially the morning cuddles. Letting his head rest on your soft chest, and holding you close. Fingers tracing the scars he’s left behind. It’s soothing, to the wolf in ginger clothing

Charlie

Oh he loves himself someone with meat on their bones. He himself has some too. Muscle is tense when flexed. When it’s not? SQUISH. So he damn well knows that just because someone’s got some extra squish, it doesn’t mean they aren’t able to still kick your ass. Oh he loves himself a partner that’s got meat on the bone. Mans is always behind you, with his hands on your stomach. Playful squishes. Never to insult. Just always very all mine. Not to mention a good excuse to show off his cooking skills. You gotta be creative when always camping. Finally someone to enjoy the meat he always endlessly has. That’s something he loves. Sharing food. Especially meat. Oh you bet your ass there’s alot of meat in your future. Along with aggressive claiming, and not being just a man who watches dragons breed. He’s gotta claim his own mate, and enjoy all that they can give. What can he say? He’s about as much dragon as he was Weasley. He likes em big, warm, and dangerous. The fact you thought it was smart to date him? Oh yeah. You are dangerous alright.

Percy

He’s a bit of a mama’s boy, so having a partner on the softer side certainly isn’t the worse. Not to mention there is a strange pride to it all. That his job is high paying enough to never have to worry about food. Every Weasley has money paranoia. Even the twins, despite their beautiful jobs. There is extreme comfort in knowing neither of you need to worry. That you can be on the softer side. It helps him sleep at night. To hold you close, see your sleeping face, and hug you. Feel how warm and soft you are. To know he is able to provide enough that you didn’t have to become dangerously thin. It’s a sign of pride, really. To know he can support his family. Make sure all he cares about is happy, and safe.

Fred

Twins, of the Wizard kind, share it all. Such as the enjoyment of someone soft. Fred sure does like to show you off, in a sense. To brag about how pretty you are, and how much you joy you bring. He’s similar to Charlie, in a sense it’s hard for him to not keep his hands on you. He just loves the security of it. The feeling of love. It’s soothing to him. To just hug you, and you hug back, promising to never let go. How you give him this comforting weight, as you cuddle. It helps ground him. Brings him back to earth again. His big, sweet, security blanket. He also adores cooking for you. He picked it up from Molly. He was the one who cooks, and George is the one who bakes. Nothing screams home more than cooking for someone. Expect lots of it from him. No hungry mouths in his house!

George

Very similar to his twin. You provide him a security, and comfort. But, they don’t always share everything. Especially not after the war. He can understand the insecurity. Missing a ear isn’t exactly hard to miss, especially since the spell that took it is famous for leaving deep gashes. It can be nauseous. Having people stare at you, for only doing so much as existing. He can tell the difference in the looks. He knows. And he knows he can hold onto you close, and find support. Along with someone who would enjoy his baking skills. Someone to share his love again. It’s hard to live with out a twin, but having you in the kitchen with him lightens the load by a lot. Like he never left. Your sweet teddy bear. His favorite co-baker

Ron

What can he say? He likes someone who likes to eat. When you grow up with food being scarce, you develop some food paranoia. Can you blame him? He is rather self conscious about it. Always teased for eating so much. You understand him though, and he understands you. You learn to appreciate food, when it can be hard to get any. Never fear about your eating habits around him. He’s more than happy to share a big meal with you. There’s a comfort in talking over tea with someone. To snack and snuggle after a long day. He gets it. Life is to short to worry about people’s views. Never know when you can’t even get food. Find pleasure in the little things

Ginny

As a Quidditch star, she definitely has to eat alot to fill in her calories. Like a lot a lot. So having someone who can keep up? She finds it fun. She also damn well knows that a little extra padding on the hips is not a death sentence, or even remotely means you are unfit. She sees so many different types of athletes, and grew up with family who all played Quidditch. She knows where muscle and fat goes. Like how Bill needs to keep up his calories for his job, why Charlie had more muscle in his legs while the twins have it in their arms. She knows how the body works a little better than most. So she damn well knows her athletic butt adores your squishy one. To come home, shower, and just slam her face into your stomach. Groaning about her aching muscles, as she snuggles into you. Able to enjoy how soft you are, and the emotional support it gives her. You are just perfect in her big brown eyes.

[lutawolf]

The Sign Commentary Review Ep 1

So earlier today, I made a post telling everyone to go watch. By popular demand, I'll be doing a commentary. Moving forward, I will do commentary at the same time I watch, but I'm unable to do that here. Still, even in the second watch, I have a lot to say.

And action! Because I've watched this already, I know it's a training exercise. I was clueless to this initially, though, which in my personally opinion kept me more on edge. For the sake of the review, I have to point out that some of the fight scenes appear slow. Not all of them, just some of the fighting here and there. I'm assuming due to new actors and not enough rehearsal time, but I still enjoyed it. It's just something you pick up on, not something that takes away from the show. But as you can see below with the betrayal scene, that for the most part, the fight scenes are well choreographed.

The way Tharn sees the future has me a little concerned about him getting hurt. He's distracted and in the thick of things, that's not a good thing. But he sees enough to know he has to rescue Phaya from real danger. Without another thought, he rushes to Phaya's side. At this point, I do pick up feelings from Tharn. You can brush it off to him rushing to help someone, he would do it for anyone, but it's the intensity in which he does it. I mean, there is a lot more concern there that you would expect more with a bestie or crush.

Chart is straight up anger management crazy. How did he pass the psych evaluation to even go into training? Tharn shows up at the critical moment to save Phaya and because of Chart's crazy ass, they all fail. As well as being punished.

Let me tell you, I tend to punish all my kids at the same time, too. Why? Because the ones suffering due to the one who messed up will make the one who messed up suffer. The two will gang up to make the one, and that mistake will not be repeated. Why am I not seeing that here? Why is anyone still siding with that douche canoe???

Yet there they are, siding with him instead of beating his ass. Also, is Chart really talking like Tharn saving Phaya was a bad thing? Like that if Phaya had asked for help, it's somehow unacceptable?

Then we meet the side friends! I adore Tharn's half brother.

And then the side couple? Maybe? Maybe not. I mean, I tend to be like "Bitch, you better be joking" when it comes to cheating.

Though the way Khem calls Thong Babe is adorbs.

I've counted three times when Chart has done the thumb to nose. Is this some kind of character habit, or is he a user?

I love these two lovely bunch of coconuts, your honor. I truly do. I also think that Yai is more insightful than he appears. Take him asking Tharn why most of his visions involve Phaya. He's trying to lead the horse to the trough. "But you seem to care about him a lot." See, insightful.

Then Phaya comes to break up the brotherly love. Maybe he would have said thank you had Tharn been truthful, but you can't really blame Tharn there.

I think Phaya finds Tharn suspicious. Nope, he does not believe Tharn at all.

Then the torture training begins. Luckily for us because we then get to see them cuddle huddle together for warmth.

Why are only the two of them cuddling, huddling together. Where is the brotherly love?!?

This is clearly a macho exercise. Where they are just trying to survive. It is absolutely not flirting. 👀👀👀

Still not flirting.

Nope, no obvious middle school flirtation going on here.

For some quality time together, the guys cart logs through the woods. Tharn gets a glimpse into the future and sees Chart getting hurt. The better man than me, actually checks on Chart. Yes, I would have absolutely let him taste Karma. The dude is unstable! Thankfully, despite Tharn's attempt to interfere, Chart still falls.

Underwater training has them escaping from hand ties and reaching lifeboats. However, Phaya hasn't come up and Tharn is losing his shit. This is when we get a dragon and a mermaid!!! While Phaya takes the mermaid's hand, he is pulled up by Tharn.

Nothing to see here! Absolutely not a romantic moment at all.

We see Phaya drawing the mermaid, which both Tharn and Yai take notice of because she looks so much like Tharn. A lot of mocking ensues thanks to Yai who his clearly trying to play matchmaker, "You like him so much, you're even drawing his picture.". And I think it's working because when he mentions that the names are similar, we notice that Phaya finds this interesting. What I find interesting is when Yai asks why he is drawing Tharn's picture, there is no denial. Phaya simply says it's personal.

This is when we see flashbacks of the first time Phaya and Tharn meet. Yeah, it was a fated moment without a doubt.

Have I mentioned that I love Yai? Him tripping those that are after his brother is just icing on the cake.

Then Yai instigates the moment that leads to an accidental kiss.

It's at this time that they also find a body floating in the water. It ends up being one of the trainers at the faculty. Some are saying it's suicide, but that doesn't make sense to Phaya.

Tharn chases after Phaya like a golden retriever. Trying to make sure he wasn't angry about that morning. Phaya stops and trips Tharn up, Causing him to fall. Still not flirting! 👀👀👀

*Cough. Cough* Yeah, no mistaking that. We are now clearly flirting.

In celebration of passing their training, the guys go out to drink. Hilarity and comradery ensue. We find out about possible side couple having dated in the past. That our golden retriever is also cursed with bad romantic luck. Leaving him very virginal.

We get this beautiful moment in the bathroom. And that should be an oxymoron but damn if it wasn't sexy. Phaya zipping up Tharn's zipper and Tharn unable to stop himself from leaning his head back. Then Phaya throwing down the gauntlet of flirtation. Boy is no longer hiding. If Tharn is confused, then it's cause he is stupid. When they get back to the table and start playing a truth or dare game, Tharn drinks rather than admitting that he likes someone at the table. I mean, might as well admit it at this point, cause the drinking said it all. Then Phaya questioning what Tharn is like drunk. Hmmm. Me thinks he wants some secrets answered. He has his suspicions about Tharn and he wants answers. Be it Tharn or his drunk brother.

We end the episode on a bit of a cliffhanger note. With them, overhear the instructors talking about the death, and everything points to it not being a suicide.

I am 100% hooked. I can't wait for the next episode. Hope you guys enjoyed!!! 💜💜💜

[spahhzy]

A sunny dragon comes to town~

Yang: Jaune, my man!

Yang grabs Jaune into a headlock, much to Jaune's dismay.

Jaune: Hello, Yang how was your trip?

Yang: Not bad. Mom teleported me roughly past Mt. Glenn, the drive to Vale was nice on Bumblebee.

Yang let go of Jaune before looking around.

Yang: Annnd, where is the miniscule mute?

A muffin hit Yang on the head.

Yang: Ah, there you are, shrimps!

Yang said, walking over to the sitting Neo, who was trying to act like she was doing something important, but Yang just picked her up and gave her a big hug before bonking Neo on the head.

Neo: Ow! What the fuck you big boobed bitch!

Yang: That's for tossing a muffin at me.

Neo: Next time, it will be a pie with knives in it!

Yang: Clown tactics, now we just need you to play the part.

Neo just gave her the finger before giving a smirk and hugging Yang.

Yang: Funny, I also thought Jaune would have knocked you up by now.

This caused Jaune to blush and sputter, while Neo blushed as well before shattering away in embarrassment.

Roman: Ah, is that the wonderful sound of a soul being embarrassed I hear?

Yang: Rome!

Yang ran up to the man and embraced him in a hug.

Roman: Jeeez what kind of training has your mother been putting you through?

Yang: Ah, you know tribal stuff. She also said for me to tell you that she expects a visit from you, to chat and catch up as she puts it.

Roman: Once this little heist of ours is complete, that will be the first thing I do.

Yang: Right, so infiltrating Beacon, huh?

Roman: It's ingenious! Plus, I knew your mom would love it if we could stick it to Ozpin again.

Yang: You said you got everyone fake transcripts right?

Roman: Everyone excluding you, I figured a bit of 'legitimacy' would do us well, sides you were going to attend Beacon anyways right?

Yang: Yeah, that was the plan, even though mom is totally against it.

Roman: I don't blame her, but if things go perfect, we'll steal whatever it is he's hiding, gloat before selling it too, whoever is willing to meet our price!

Yang: It sounds good in practice, Rome...

Roman: Have faith! With Neo, Jaune, and You, this plan will be foolproof!

Jaune had already excused himself to let the two catch up as he went to find Neo. He caught her back in her room as she was looking at an old photo.

It was Him, her, Roman, and Yang with another Woman, she looked like a carbon copy of Yang but had black hair and red eyes.

It read: 'Thick as thieves'.

Jaune: Penny for you thoughts?

Neo: Just a penny?

Jaune walked up behind her before giving her a hug, Neo leaned in and enjoyed the warmth.

Jaune: C'mon spill it...

Neo: Just...nervous.

Jaune: You? The Neopolitan, nervous...I thought such a word didn't exist in your vocabulary.

Neo: kiss ass.

Jaune: Heh.

Jaune sighed as he rested his head onto of her head.

Jaune: I'm nervous too, a lot that can go wrong... but I will do my best to ensure that you and Roman will be okay.

Neo: Hey, don't sell yourself short. Without you, our trio ain't nothing, we need you...I need you dummy.

Jaune: Awww, Neo all sentimental, I need a camera.

Neo smirked before suddenly Jaune was sprawled out on the bed with Neo strattling him, a hazy look in her eyes.

Jaune:Heh, I'm in danger.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Sis, I need Mistuya x reader x Draken smut PLEASE! On my knees crying

the dragon bros need some loving

Draca: Mitsuya Takashi x Fem!Reader x Ken Ryuguji

wc: 741

tw: smut, fantasy AU

masterlist

Laughter booms in the tavern as you post up near the knights in the back, spreading mugs of mead into the circle.

"I've never seen a basilisk that big," a blonde man chuckles, tipping the mug back and listening to his friends continue the story. A purple-haired knight picks up the tale, giving props to each member at the table for their part in the battle.

"Another round?" you wonder, sweeping by and filling the empty mugs. "It's on the house."

"Here, here," the blonde laughs, raising his cup. "A toast to the lovely barmaid!" Everyone echoes the cheer, and you giggle. It's not long before a few take off, but you keep the knights full with mead as the night goes on.

Once the tavern is close to closing, you notice only two are left. There's a purple-haired one and the same blonde who cheered you earlier, both seeming unphased and stone-cold sober.

"Are y'all doing alright?" you wonder as you pass by, smiling at the handsome men.

"I actually have a bet with my friend here," the blonde begins, pointing at the purple-haired one. "Mitsuya thinks you've been at this business for a while, so you've seen many knights pass through here. Were you here when the Black Dragons were the knights of the land?"

"That was before my time," you chuckle, leaning over to grab their empty cups. "I learned the business - right before the group ended their first generation - from my father about how to run a tavern when I was just eight."

"So you're not too old," Mitsuya jokes, and the blonde swats at him. "What, Draken?"

"Be a gentleman!"

"I'm not too old," you smile, wagging your brows. "I've seen a few things here and there."

"Have you ever had someone try to flirt with you as you're working?" Draken wonders.

"Sure," you shrug. "I have two knights trying to flirt with me right now." Mitsuya and Draken blush, but one tries to hide it while the other smirks. "I'm gonna shut this place down for the evening, but you two can stay for a nightcap if you want." You wink and sashay away, expecting them to scurry out of the tavern and never reappear. But when they remain long after you've closed, you know they want something you've got to offer.

You find yourself stuck between them, making out with Draken as Mitsuya fucks you from behind, his hands holding your hips with care. Draken's fisting his cock, stroking it leisurely while you suck on his bottom lip.

"Bend over," Draken urges you, his dark eyes watching as you bow at the waist and hold onto his hips. "Pout for me." You obey, and he taps his dickhead against your lips, humming while staring at you. "So pretty..."

You open your mouth and let him slide his length over your tongue, tasting the salty precum with pride. Draken slowly thrusts into your mouth, holding your head and angling his hips back and forth. "Ah, fuck." Draken leans his head back and groans just as Mitsuya deepens his strokes. You bob back and forth on Draken's girthy cock, saliva trailing from your lips as you gag.

Mitsuya speeds up, and you moan around the cock in your mouth, making Draken hiss and buck his hips. You reach a hand down to play with your clit, the tips brushing against Mitsuya's balls while he fucks you.

"Such a sweet girl..." Mitsuya mumbles, reaching up to tweak your nipples. "Haven't felt the warmth of a woman in so long, have we, Ken?"

Draken grunts in agreement, pulling out his cock and jerking it in front of your face. It isn't long before he cums in your open mouth, each ribbon of cum coating your tongue. You swallow, then show Draken your empty mouth, to which he hums and pats your cheek lovingly.

Mitsuya doesn't take too much time cumming on your ass, pulling out just in time to get every drop right where he wants it.

"We'll come back at the end of every campaign," he promises, huffing softly. "You're truly skilled at being a good host."

"If anyone asks, this place has the best hospitality," Draken grins. "The kind we like."

"Come back anytime," you urge the two of them, standing up and wiping your ass off with a bar towel. "I'd be happy to have you here to keep me company."

taglist: @bertholdts--butt

[eff-plays]

How do you feel about Wyll's views on his father not changing at all? I felt kinda weird listening to Wyll literally tell his dad "there's nothing to forgive" like he was apologizing for casting out his teenaged son and Wyll's like NAh. He feels the same about that whole situation as he did at the start of the game, I think I would've preferred some sort of change or development? not even something big but denying his fathers apology feels weird, even "I understand and respect why he did it but I wish he just listened instead of assuming I had anything but good intentions" ?? Like he was 17 when he made a deal with a devil to save the city, and he did!!!! But maybe that's just cause I'm mad that Ulders first words after being saved are shitting on Tav for his son being a demon lmaoooo

what are your thoughts on it if you have any xoxo

I have thots, but disclaimers upfront because I will be talking out of my ass for most of this:

All the D&D I've played have been in entirely homebrew worlds, because most of my friends are also writers or at least worldbuilders. So I have no previous experience with the Forgotten Realms or its canon, i.e. I had no idea who Ulder Ravengard was and why Wyll being his son was a big deal, though I assumed he was someone very important.

I never actually um. Finished Act 3. Yeah, I uninstalled the game before I finished it lmao. I kept thinking "oh I'll come back to it once Larian have fixed it!" *looks into the camera like I'm on The Office* I finished Karlach, Astarion, and Wyll's quests, though I didn't start the Ansur part of it because it felt kinda random, and obviously I knew we wouldn't be getting a cool epic dragon for an ally, so I decided to leave that bit for later with the other bigger companion quests like Lae'zel's, Shart's, and Gale's. Jokes on me, right?

But I did save Ulder with Wyll, and did pick the one option to show via tadpole that Wyll is a good sweet boy. And I got the underwhelming "nothing to forgive" reunion. So I do know that part.

I played only like. An hour of early access. And then dropped it and uninstalled the game because it didn't grab me. I certainly didn't meet Wyll, and even if I had, I think it would've been post-rewrites.

Okay, now onto my actual thots. It's extremely long lmao I love yapping.

First of all, I think Ulder disowning Wyll could have actually worked quite well if they'd kept old Wyll, who I hear was kind of an obnoxious, arrogant dude. Like, if your teen son is a bit of a knob, and you're the most important nobleman/politician in an important city, then it "makes sense" to disown him as a disciplinary measure. You know he can take care of himself, you know he's capable of greatness, but he's a bit of a dickhead and needs to grow up. So tell him to leave and maybe in a few years he'll sort himself out. It's fucked up, but it's the sort of thing I can see a guy in this situation and in this world do.

BUT. Wyll isn't an arrogant and obnoxious dude. He's very mature, very kind, and always well-meaning. Nothing indicates this was different when he was a teen. So Ulder disowning him feels disproportionately cruel from the start, and it is, but it also feels like it comes out of nowhere and makes Ulder looks less like a strict parent and a politician doing what he thinks is the best out in a bad situation, and more like ... well, like a fucking asshole. Hence why it feels so fucking unfair and unfinished that Wyll just forgives him, or rather says there's nothing to forgive? It feels like Wyll constantly has to take on the role of the adult, of the emotionally mature one, of the one who is too good-hearted and understanding to ever feel anything negative, while his garbage dad gets to just be a douchebag towards his son without much cause or consequence.

Furthermore, we never get the sense that Ulder feels bad or regrets what he did, or that he's at least conflicted, even with his apology. It's just "Yeah I disowned my son. No I don't expect him to come back better in any way." And then he flips on a dime after a single conversation, so his decision to disown Wyll feels like it was easily undone and not of any consequence. Wyll forgiving him immediately feels just very unearned, and like the narrative itself frames Ulder's actions as understandable? (On that note, showing Ulder some tadpole visions to prove Wyll is good, I prommy, feels so cheap? Like y'all really did that, huh? And Ulder, who assumed the worst when his beloved son showed up in a warlock pact, would just take the vague visions of a stranger when his son looks like a saucy incubus? Ok.)

Now, if Larian had wanted to stick with this, I think it could've worked this way if Wyll was afforded any sort of emotional depth. Like, if Wyll said "there's nothing to forgive" initially, because he loves and deeply respects his father and thinks, logically, that what he did was right, so he tries to justify it to himself in order for that cruel act to make sense. But then he realizes that it still hurts, that it was unfair, that it was cruel, and that he can't forgive his dad, not this easily at least. That initial "nothing to forgive" would've worked excellently as a kneejerk reaction, a defense mechanism, and something for him to later retract when he realizes that "nothing to forgive" means "nothing you do would make me forgive you". That would've been juicy as FUCK.

If Larian had instead wanted to afford Ulder more depth and make us understand his actions (which they wanted to do with Wyll saying there's nothing to forgive, signalling to us that Ulder in some ways was justified), then they should've made Wyll a huge brat as a younger teen. If they'd done that, we as modern players would still find it a bit unfair, but a nobleman disowning his rowdy-ass son for taking an escapade a step to far, to teach him a lesson? That makes sense, doesn't it? It would've been a strict parent thing to do, but assuming Ulder knew his son would make it on his own, cutting him off from the privilege that's turning him into a dickhead would be a sensible course of action. If that's what happened, then it would've also made sense for Ulder to immediately get pissed off when he saw Wyll transformed, because he'd assume that his cringefail son didn't learn his lesson at all. AND it would've made sense for Wyll to say there's nothing to forgive: because he knows he used to be a huge fucking brat, and his Mizora thing would've just looked like another prank Youtuber oopsie to Ulder, who had no reason to believe otherwise.

Now, Larian did neither of these things, or rather, tried to do both without actually committing, because then it would make one of the two look "bad" (i.e. like a real flawed human being). That's why it ends up feeling incongruent and, say it with me now, unfinished. There is no logical progression to their actions, because, say it with me now, nobody bothered to give them consistent motivations or depth.

Here's the two plots laid out in order to illustrate what I think would be logical courses of actions for both characters, compared to what Larian actually did:

1

Wyll is a baby boy, baby > Ulder is a ruthless politician who's obsessed with his image > Wyll steps into dogshit (Mizora) and smells funny now, but can't explain where the smell is coming from > All the nobles are like "ew this stinks lmfao" > Ulder decides to disown his son for the sake of his power and image, justifying it to Wyll by saying it's what he owes to the people of Baldur's Gate > Wyll comes back, still baby boy, baby, but with horns now > Ulder is horrified about what this might do to his image again and tells him to fuck off > Tav shows him that Wyll is badass now and was always badass, stopped the cult of Tiamat etc > Ulder's politician brain fires up again and he realizes his son might be GOOD for his image, apologizes for disowning him > Wyll, still trying to tell himself his father did the right thing, says there's nothing to forgive > Realizes later that what Ulder did was fucked up and retracts his forgiveness > Ulder now has to figure out his priorities and relationship with his son while Wyll has asserted his autonomy and personhood.

2

Wyll is a known rich brat > Wyll steps into dogshit (Mizora) and smells funny now, but can't explain where the smell is coming from > Ulder is fucking tired of his son's dogshit shenanigans and disowns him for his own good > Wyll travels the world to become a cool hero dude, but gets turned into a devil so he looks bad > Ulder assumes his cringefail son is still cringefail > Realizes he's not cringefail anymore and apologizes for disowning him in that very vulnerable moment when he needed him most > Wyll says it's ok because he was indeed a massive brat who took it a step too far, and Ulder had no way of knowing his crying wolf was real this time > Flawed but happy family!!

3 (canon)

Wyll is a baby boy, baby > Wyll steps into dogshit (Mizora) and smells funny now, but can't explain where the smell is coming from > Ulder assumes his baby boy son did a prank youtuber oopsie and decides to disown his son for the sake of his power and image?? > Wyll comes back, still baby boy, but with horns now > Ulder assumes his baby boy son is cringefail??? > Tav shows him that Wyll is badass now and was always badass, stopped the cult of Tiamat etc > Ulder realizes only now that Wyll was never cringefail ?? and apologizes for disowning him because he actually loves him > Wyll says it's ok ?? > Everything is fine and back to normal, nobody did an oopsie and nothing changed.

Y'see what I mean???

And the thing is, given that I was able to piece together what they were going for and two entire potential angles that could've worked excellently, it's clear that there are bits of potential, little inklings of what could have been, but the writer just didn't bother exploring deeper at all? Like they had some ideas that they threw at the wall and then didn't rewrite or think about them at all. It feels like a first draft of a character's story, where you have some ideas but haven't figured out the overall structure or progression of events. Instead you just throw in everything you have and pretend that's a finished story and that the inconsistencies are just "depth" and "nuance", when in reality, you're just asking the player to fill in the gaps you couldn't be bothered with, and when they can't do that because it makes no damn sense, you just ignore them lol.

Um. Yeah. Those are my thots, lmao.

It's just unfinished. That's what it is. Straight up!!!

[welcometololaland]

WIP WORKING WEEK PART 1: THE RING-IN (AGAIN) (not sure if this is 57 sentences exactly but here you go - TK, Carlos and Nancy go to a spin cycle class, and TK and Carlos assess the quality of the restrooms).

The spin cycle class is exactly as TK expects – sweaty, loud and full of middle aged women who are far better at riding a stationary bike than he is. On the upside, he gets to sneak looks at Carlos every thirty seconds and appreciate another perfect part of his husband’s physique: the way the muscles in his shoulders flex as he shifts the distribution of his weight, the tight swell of his ass in workout shorts, the way his skin looks golden in the dim lights, glittering with sweat. 

On the downside, so does everybody else.

Carlos is so distracting that the instructor has trouble maintaining control over the class. Despite their spin bike prowess, many of the women seem to be gradually losing interest in the class as Carlos gets increasingly sweaty. At some point, the music gets turned up, as does the instructor’s mic, trying to redirect attention to the fact that they’re supposed to be changing their resistance every few minutes. On a quick glance, TK suspects a fair few people haven’t gone up a level for half the class.

TK isn’t typically the jealous type. In fact, he feels vindicated by the attention Carlos gets because he finds the man borderline irresistible, and being in love with such a gorgeous creature has made him do some pretty insane things. Even so, there’s a limit to how much appreciation he can endure before he feels the need to savagely stake his claim.

“Stop looking like you want to murder that poor woman in her sleep,” Nancy says through laboured breaths. They’re just about to get back out of the saddle, although TK has sort of lost which part of the class they’re up to.

“Her jaw is practically on the floor,” TK mutters. “Do you think she could pick it up one of these days?”

“You can’t seriously be jealous of Janice over there,” Nancy snorts. “Have you forgotten that your husband is completely obsessed with you? He bought you a pet lizard the other day.”

“Bearded dragon,” TK corrects. “And the fact that Carlos loves me isn’t going to stop me informing the entire class that he’s gay and he’s mine.”

Nancy rolls her eyes, blinking as the sweat from her brow appears to momentarily blind her. “You need to cool down,” she says drily. “Go outside and then come back in when you’re ready to play nicely with the other children.”

“What? And look like I suck?!” TK protests. “I’m not giving Janice the satisfaction.”

“You do kinda suck,” Nancy mutters, “also – and I say this in the nicest way possible – no one is looking at you.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” TK snipes as he stops pedalling and hops off the spin bike, plucking his water bottle from the holder like it’s personally offended him. “Also, you suck.”

“Don’t forget your towel!” Nancy snickers, and then wobbles dangerously on her bike as TK pulls it off with a flourish. He feels like a matador tempting a bull, because the instructor gives him a very dirty look.

TK has to admit, once he’s back in the cool, heavily air-conditioned hallway, he starts to feel a lot better. There’s something about getting sweaty in a room full of other sweaty people that grosses him out a bit and he’s admittedly not the best at being told what to do. Unless it’s at his job, but that’s because he respects his father and Tommy more than he respects most people. A hell of a lot more than he respects any spin cycle instructor, at least.

“Hey,” Carlos says, dropping down onto the bench seat next to him. “What’s up? Are you okay?”

TK takes one look at him and wishes he didn’t, because the concern written into Carlos’ expression combined with his sweat-slicked curls and the big, irresistible brown eyes renders him completely weak.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Just sick of how good you look. Also, I don’t like spin cycle.”

Carlos arches an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Yes, you did,” TK mutters under his breath, but loses his train of thought completely as Carlos cups his cheek in one hand.

“You don’t like getting sweaty with me?” he asks, and although it sounds innocent, the wink that accompanies is anything but.

“Careful,” TK warns. “The restrooms are less than twenty feet away and I’m very frustrated.”

Carlos drops his hand and looks over his shoulder, before turning back to TK with a coy smile. “Think there’s anyone in them right now? The class is fully booked and it looks like the reception area is empty.”

TK stares, mouth watering. “Who are you, and what have you done with my husband?”

“Well,” Carlos replies mildly. “You must be rubbing off on me.”

“I’ll show you something else I can rub off,” TK smirks, before taking Carlos’ hand and tugging him towards the door.

[teenage-mutant-ninja-freak]

I’ve been reading your work for the past few days (because your work is amazing) specifically the mob turtles and I was wondering if you could write the mob turtles with a s/o who loves exotic pets (like blue tongued skink, sugar gliders, leopard geckos, tegus, armadillos, etc) because I love exotic pets their so adorable I wanna like have a picnic with them and put them in cute fancy outfits

Thank you so much!! I love love love blue tongued skinks so much, had a dream about one the other night and work up sad that I didn't actually have one. If you don't mind, I'm going to run with the last part you said- the boys walking in on you having a tea party/picnic with your exotic pets because I think that could be fun!!

Leo

it's been a long ass night, it's about 9;30 am when he gets back to the lair

he's so ready for some decent sleep, when he cracks open the door to his room and finds you sat on the floor and you're not alone

you've got a blanket spread out, a small china tea set laid out and a bunch of critters all around you who you occasionally have to pick up and put back on the blanket at their place at the tea party

"what you got there?" he asks so confused

"Oh, just a tea party with my favourite people"

"they're lizards..."

"you a turtle and you a person!" you say indignantly

he backs off after that and sits on the bed

"can I join?"

you welcome him in and introduce all your friends

he asks where you got the outfits from and who would sell them that tiny

"I make them, Leo. I'm very crafty like that now drink your tea and stop moving before you crush Mr Beans, he's right there!"

Raph

"That is one freaky looking dog!" he damn near screams when he walks in

you have to explain that you almost collect exotic animals and you love them a lot and that the "dog" is actually an armadillo

an armadillo wearing a cravat and cowboy hat because he's obviously from the wild west

"do...do they bite?"

"Only if he thinks that this town ain't big enough for the two of yous"

Raph is beyond confused

but he likes this weird little world you live in

until he sees your bumblebee ball python

then he is up and running out of the room yelling "NOPE!"

it didn't help that the snake was in a witches hat

"Oh well, don't worry Lady, I think you look lovely"

Mikey

he wants to touch and pick up all of them

I mean like hug them too tight and squish their faces

who let this man near a bunch of reptiles???

oh wait that was you....

he's having such a good time ignoring you telling him to stop and he loves the tiny outfits you've put them in

when your leopard gecko, who happens to be wearing a ruff, latches on to his nose and won't let go

"you've gotta respect their personal space, baby..."

he keeps a safe distance after that

Donnie

"Is that, is that a fucking komodo dragon??"

he is already up and standing on the coffee table

"yes, his name's Biff"

"when tell Biff to stop fucking coming towards me"

you laugh and pick him up, scratching under his chin

you then get a 10 minute lecture about how they're all muscle and their bite is so bacteria filled even if the bite isn't lethal the bacteria will kill their prey within a few hours

you laugh and say "you hear that Biff? You're ripped!"

Donnie doesn't find it too funny

eventually he comes down from his hiding place but keeps a distance

"when I said to make yourself at home here, I didn't really expect you to bring a zoo with you"

[xxxdragonfucker69xxx]

Hi! 10kDays has had a vice grip on my psyche for the last week or so, and I'm really excited to play the preview. However, I don't wanna make anyone else in my group GM this game just because I want to play it, so I'd like to try out the GMless mode of play, and so would they, but none of us have any experience with that style of game.

Is there any game you'd recommend we look at for a general picture of how you intend GMless play to work? I do own Ironsworn, which has a GMless mode, so if that jives with what you're intending that would be really convenient lmao.

Thanks for your time!

So there's a couple of thoughts i have here, starting with the shape of the game and the pieces of it that need different kinds and amounts of attention:

The game itself is kind of designed in three strands: courses, combat, and the Face game.

Courses are an adaptation of the Arc/quest mechanic from Jenna Moran's Glitch. I've found that they reduce the GM load hugely, for two reasons: you can roll up half an hour before game, ask "who wants to be in the spotlight, what does your quest say is happening in your life right now, and what needs to happen?", and drop something in. Connections and debts are also designed to give you improv prompts, and to a slightly lesser extent perspectives. The other benefit of Courses is that they move planning burden from "GM, night before game" to "player, whenever they want to think about their blorbo". So on a large-scale, "figure out what the campaign looks like" view, you can get away with improvising every session and just following your own character arcs. Likewise, the District moves and intentions are intended to give GMs an easy "i don't know what to do next" button, and the focuses of mask/gear/bell are intended to share around the responsibilities of worldbuilding. Ironsworn's oracles are another example of how to help outsource some of that decision-making, and it's the reason Appendix Yi is earmarked to be a million random tables. For more information on how oracles work, please google Jay Dragon's Sleepaway on your work computer (or at least read this Twitter thread from NightlingBug).

There are a couple story structures that are well suited to wuxia and this game. There's the Shaolin Soccer/shadowrunner/classic ttrpg setup where you are clearly a team, and there are enemy teams, and you are doing hijinks against them. But there's also a Jin Yong wuxia epic type thing where you have, let's say three or four PCs, and you're maybe nominally on the same side but you're clashing a lot and you're tied together by sworn and blood kinship and you keep running into each other. I think the most pared-down version of 10kdays you could run and still call it a full game is 3 players, characters living sort of far apart so they rarely run into each other, and interactions are 2 of the PCs clashing at a time while the 3rd player picks up any NPCs, throws in some District moves, etc. You could do a 2-player game but the kinds of interactions you could have would be severely limited, I think. The Face game of politicking and building support structures is kind of just... you two, face to face.

Now the problem on everyone's mind is fighting. It's attention-intensive, everyone's interested in it, and depending on your setup there can be loads of combatants that a GM would normally be expected to pilot. Again, there are a couple of scaffolds for trying to do this GMless. The sample Techniques in Appendix Jia come with combat tactics to make use of them, so any player can pick up an NPC combatant and figure out what they're going to do. Fight choreographing like this runs the pitfall of it feeling sort of bad to hurt your friends effectively, at least for some tables, but there is the incentive of hitting your friend's Bite highlight when you grab the corpo thug and bite them in the ass.

It is one of my mid-to-low priorities to create like algorithm type protocols for enemy fighters to run themselves, though that's still in the pipe dream phase. One thing I'm looking at here is Katabasis by Rathayibacter, which has a super cool system for easily lining up combatant actions, enemy or not). Maybe I'll end up with literal combat loop Turing machines or something.

There's one more option here which is to lean the other way -- to foreground the GM themselves being a player. I'm talking Ryuutama dragons, I'm talking Fellowship Overlords. Obviously I one hundred percent have not added this yet, and I'm not even set that I will, but it's definitely a tool I'm thinking of to help manage the wuxia/cyberpunk/other bullshit genre merger. If you went this way, it would look like picking a district -- secret note, each district is built to amplify a genre. Gongshan is made to focus on wuxia/the bell, Jiaotou is made to focus on cyber/the gear, Youzhou is made to focus on punk/the mask, Jingcai Xin is made to focus on court and courtroom politics, and Yuanhai is made to play Nezha Reborn. Pick a district that corresponds to the genre the GM is playing as, turn those Moves into Heroic/Humbling Moves and the landmarks/NPCs into Treasures and Connections, turn the Intentions into Skills. Now you can combine this with what I first talked about, sharing out cognitive load, and focus on playing as a district/genre. Is that meaningfully different from being a GM, who let's recall still counts as a player at the table? I'm a sicko who loves being a GM so I'm unqualified to comment, but try out any combination of these options and see how they take you.

[em1e]

bedless. | 2.5 k

╰ maybe your feelings aren't the worst thing in the world. ⚠︎ and there was only one bed c:, kidnapping ? :p ♡ series m.list

you reach the halfway mark in your trip and you are beyond exhausted. 

despite stopping countless times to rest and eat, you find yourself sick of being on the saddle for any long period. baji and chifuyu seem to be doing far better than you, though it’s expected considering they frequent such trips; you have just been pampered with the luxury of chariots with expensive upholstery and comfortable seats. 

this saddle is anything but that. 

you lean against baji with a pout, unaware (or perhaps unconcerned) at how his arms flex from the contact, fingers gripping at the reigns harsher than needed.

“can we rest at the next village?” you frown, head lolling against his shoulder to glance at chifuyu. 

the mercenary doesn’t show any sign of hearing your question, busying himself with looking at a map he’d picked up from the last village to ensure you’re on the right path. 

“hello?” you sit up, waving a hand in his direction, unhappy with having to repeat yourself, “i would like to rest in a bed if possible. the ground is not suitable for-” 

chifuyu sighs loudly at your complaints, folding the map and tucking it into one of the pockets of his bag, “we have a schedule to maintain,” he dismisses, “you may sleep in a bed when we arrive at the black dragon’s kingdom.” 

another whine passes your lips, back to pressing yourself against baji with a frown. 

“i don’t see why stopping for one night would kill us.” baji agrees with you. as much as he’d hate to admit it, his ass was aching from the leather of the saddle, and he agrees that the ground is nothing short of uncomfortable compared to a bed, “we’d be stopping anyways, would we not? it seems stupid to not go to an inn and be well rested at least once on our journey.” 

chifuyu returns to ignoring the both of you, digging his heel into his horses side to pressure it to move a little faster, forcing it into a gallop that you and baji soon find yourselves following. 

your head goes back against baji’s shoulder, looking at him through your lashes, “i think if the both of us go to an inn without him, he’d be forced to join.” 

baji glances down at you, a small grin playing on his lips at the thought, “or we could leave him out altogether - i’m certain he’d be able to find us tomorrow morning when we are well rested and he remains grouchy from the ground.” 

you giggle, hand coming to your mouth to cover the sound. 

“i can hear the both of you,” chifuyu doesn’t move his body to face you as he says the statement, head barely turning so the words aren’t lost to the wind, “and i do not enjoy being plotted against.” 

“then maybe it should be reconsidered where we rest tonight.” you cross your arms over your chest with a huff. 

and decidedly, you do end up at an inn. 

the two draw sticks for who rests first while you sorted out rations for dinner. baji pulls the shortest, meaning after eating he was to stay up in the lodge's entrance, keeping watch while you and chifuyu rest. 

upon entering the room, both baji and chifuyu’s shoulders deflate at the sight of the single bed in the corner. 

“so much for not sleeping on the floor,” chifuyu grumbles, taking his bit of bread and meat you’d put together for him. 

baji makes a noise of agreement as you pass him his own portions, the two ignoring your small comment of, “i offered to pay for another room.” 

you did. they denied the idea, preferring to keep close if possible; even if that meant they’d be on the floor for another night. you feel a little bad, that the promise of sleeping somewhere decent has been robbed from them so quickly, but the pair stealing half of the meat meant for you revokes any pity that’d begun to fester. 

and though you do offer the option of the bed to the mercenary, he denies your kindness and insists he’s fine with the floor. every blanket and pillow you can spare, however, finds its way to the ground with him, setting up a makeshift cot with the materials to the best of your ability. 

you’re unsure of the exact time when baji pushes open the door to shake chifuyu awake for the switch, but you can see how tired your knight is as he discards himself of his sword and shoes once chifuyu is out the door, fixing the makeshift bed how he feels it would be most comfortable. 

you sit slightly and rub at your eyes, “baji?” 

he freezes at the sound of your voice, you can see how he glances at you, illuminated by the moon. 

“it’s late,” he comments softly, letting the blanket fall from his fingers to stand, “what’s got you up? are you in need of something?” 

you’re unsure how well he can see you in the dark, but it doesn’t stop you from shaking your head softly, reaching for him blindly. your fingers find purchase at the hem of his shirt and he exhales sharply at the contact. you wonder if he hears how your own heart thumps in your chest. 

“i’m worried.” you admit quietly, voice wavering. 

he takes a step forward, knees hitting the edge of the mattress. the tips of your fingers still hang loosely in his shirt, “what for?” 

you lose the grip when he sits down, though your hand remains dropped by his side as you look down, “that this may be futile, or kazutora may hate me for leaving,” the confession burns, grasping at the blankets to steel yourself, “i wouldn’t blame him, but . . i don’t want to hurt him with this.” you add after a moment. 

it’s quiet, only disturbed by the sound of the two of you breathing, and you shake your head with a small sigh, “perhaps it’s stupid, i apologize for bringing it up. i’m sure you’re tired-” 

“hey,” baji shifts, hesitating only a second before taking your hand into his own and squeezing softly. he’s warm, you note, soothing touch pickling your skin, “there’s no need to apologize. i’m sure everything will be fine, kazutora will do just fine as king and kisaki won’t have the opportunity to defile your kingdom.” another squeeze to your hand, and he’s standing, taking his hand from your own. 

he stops when you reach back for him, fingers around his wrist to prevent him from moving far. 

a small noise bubbles in the back of his throat, a question of why implied from the sound. you don’t look up from your lap, though your grip remains. 

“will–,” you pause, faltering a moment as your resolve crumbles. you take a breath to steady yourself, “i know it’s . . improper, but . . will you lay with me? o-only until i fall asleep-” 

baji pulls his arm from you, and you fear you’ve crossed a line in asking. 

but he laughs, a quiet rumble from chest with a nod you can barely make out in the dark, “‘f course princess. just ‘til you’re asleep.”

it’s not the first time baji’s ever laid with you; when you were a child, you would sneak into kazutora’s room with pillows and blankets in tow (despite him having a plethora of his own already there) and create a fort out of the many fabrics to lay under. the three of you would tell stories of cryptids and myths, things that surrounded the woods of the many kingdoms that would leave you unable to sleep for the few nights that’d follow. 

this was different, you must know that as much as he. 

neither of you voice the contrast as you pull the covers back, scooting over to make room for him. he waits for you to settle back against the mattress and you turn on your side to face away from him when he begins the climb in beside you. 

it’s quiet, but not uncomfortably so. baji pulls the covers until the edge is resting on your shoulders. mindlessly, you reach behind you until your fingers make contact with his own on his chest. his hand twitches, flexing for a second under yours, before he intertwines them together. 

“thank you.” you whisper into the dark, eyes fluttering closed from the warmth radiating from him. 

your thanks is returned by him squeezing your hand gently, always so gentle with you, and you find yourself falling asleep to the sound of him breathing. 

the following morning, you’re awoken by hushed whispers in the room. sunlight peeks in from the curtains, cascading the mercenary and your knight in light as the former shoves things into one of the packs you’d brought in. 

“it’s not as if we’ve told anyone where we’d be going-” baji scowls, voice sharp. he pauses when you shift in the bed, sitting up and rubbing your eyes with the balls of your fists. 

“nice of you to join us, princess,” chifuyu chastises, tossing you your bag, “hope you slept well – s’a shame we gotta get a move on. heard there’s some people out searchin’ for you.” 

you stiffen at the words, throwing the blankets from over your legs and searching through the bag to ensure everything that was previously in it was still there, “what do you mean ‘searching’ for me?” 

“i mean as i say,” he tosses the blankets that were previously on the floor on the bed (and consequently, onto you. you voice your complaints with a groan), “word of mouth travels fast and your brother seems none too happy of your disappearance.” 

you frown, eyes flitting to baji. he avoids your stare, busying himself with the remaining items needed to be collected and offering you your shoes. you pull them on wordlessly, standing only when you’re finished. 

“the horses are already saddled and ready to leave, and i’ve gathered enough materials for us to skip the next two towns to arrive straight to the kingdom,” chifuyu explains, “it’s better for us to avoid the main areas and trails to ensure you arrive safe.” 

he pulls the mask over his face, knocking shoulders with baji as he makes his exit. you remain in the room alone with baji, looking down at your feet. 

“do you suppose kazutora is really upset?” you ask quietly. 

he pats your head gently, then places that same hand in between your shoulders to ease you towards the door, “let’s just focus on getting you to the black dragon’s kingdom, yeah?” he says in favor of replying. 

you find you don’t care for that answer very much. 

the next day's travels go fine; nothing remotely interesting happening in such a short period of time. 

as chifuyu mentioned, you stay in the trails remaining in the woods, following the map as closely as possible and resting mainly when you deem it necessary for the horses. baji’s hardly spoken a word to you since you departed from the inn and that paired with him deciding to walk with the horse rather than sit on the saddle with you leaves you wondering if you’ve done something wrong. 

as you make it to your final stop for the night, baji excuses himself to gather some wood for the fire chifuyu busies himself with building. 

“have i done something wrong?” you ask chifuyu with a frown, pulling your legs to your chest. 

chifuyu pauses, flint sparking but not igniting from the previous swipe against steel, “pardon?” he looks to you from a kneeled position. 

“have i done something wrong?” you repeat, “to baji.” you clarify when his brows don’t unfurrow. 

“um . . i don’t believe so. is there something the matter between the two of you?” he’s intrigued now, head tilting. 

you rest your chin atop your knees, frowning, “he’s hardly spoken to me since the inn and preferred walking to riding with me; i don’t smell, do i?” you question aloud, leaning down to sniff at yourself. you don’t think you do, but who’s really to say. 

the mercenary laughs at that, “we have been out in the heat for almost a week, princess, i’m afraid we all smell,” you kick at his thigh with a scowl, but he continues, “though i don’t believe that to be the reason for his . . detachment.” 

you refrain from continuing your onslaught of kicks at this, “how do you mean?” 

he goes back to attempting to light the fire, grinning when the spark catches the moss and ignites into a flame, “is it not obvious? he’s enamored by you.” 

you flush at the words, kicking again, “don’t say something so ridiculous-” 

he catches your ankle before you can deliver another kick, sending you a bored look, “he told me as much himself that morning when i walked in to find the two of you together in bed; although he made me promise not to say a word,” he adds the last bit as an afterthought, releasing your leg to scratch at his head before shrugging, taking in your expression, “don’t look so surprised, it’s not as if you don’t share his sentiment.” 

you open your mouth to argue, brows furrowing, but ultimately have nothing to say. your shoulder drop, defeated. he pats your knee with a small chuckle before standing to his full height, “this should be exciting news. i’m sure he’d be elated to hear you feel the same.” 

you perk up at the thought, looking up at chifuyu curiously, “you’re certain?” 

he grabs at some sticks to add to the fire, now less interested in the conversation than before, “hm? of course; anyone in your position would be to know the person they care about has mutual feelings – where are you going?” 

you scramble to stand, dusting your hands on your skirt with a hop in your step, “to go find baji!” you answer with a smile, before you’re disappearing into the woods, following the path you watched baji take.

chifuyu clicks his tongue, calling back, “don’t wander too! . . . far.” he sighs, poking at the fire with a stick, then adds it to the pile. 

you wander around the dark, following the trail illuminated by the moon while pushing back branches and bushes that get in the way. 

“baji?” you call out, hyper aware of the crunch of leaves and sticks under your foot. he’d been out for a few minutes, but surely he hadn’t made it too far into the woods, right? 

“baji?” you try again, peeking your head around trees that block your vision. if you remembered correctly, there was a small lake nearby where your horses drank before you found your final resting place - perhaps he decided to take a dip? your skin prickles with heat at the thought. 

a twig snaps behind you and you turn at the sound, “baji? it’s not funny to sneak around in the dark-” 

you approach him as he emerges from the shadows, scolding ready on your tongue only to stop when your eyes fully adjust as to who’s in front of you.  “i’m afraid i’m not the one you’re searchin’ for, princess.” hanma grins with a giggle.

[kylesvariouslistsandstuff]

Big-ass Netflix animation news drop yesterday, ahead of Annecy and the release of ULTRAMAN RISING... Netflix is on a lot of shit-lists for a variety of things, including their careless race towards making more animated features but expecting them to be cranked out like it's a factory process or something... But I will say, the feature line-up they revealed yesterday sounds like banger-central. Too bad most of them likely won't see a physical media release, though.

WALLACE & GROMIT feature #2, VENGEANCE MOST FOWL... Coming later this year, featuring Feathers McGraw from THE WRONG TROUSERS... The hype is real.

The last half of 2024 will also be when Netflix debuts Skydance Animation's SPELLBOUND, that long-gestating fantasy picture from SHREK director Vicky Jenson with new Alan Menken-Glen Slater songs... I guess LUCK nuked whatever partnership Skydance, John Lasseter's current studio, had with Apple, although their new show WONDLA is debuting on that platform.

Skydance looks to follow up SPELLBOUND with TANGLED director Nathan Greno's POOKOO, another fantasy tale with otherworldy critters. Only a matter of time when we find out RAY GUNN, Brad Bird's retrofuturistic sci-fi noir whose development history dates aaaaall the way back to the mid-'90s, comes out.

Also curiously, prior to these announcements, Disney Animation director Don Hall (WINNIE THE POOH, BIG HERO 6, RAYA AND THE LAST DRAGON, and STRANGE WORLD) has joined the ranks at Skydance. Another director who worked under Lasseter at either WDAS or Pixar, now working for him again. I'm guessing he didn't particularly enjoy directing his last two features at WDAS under Jennifer Lee's stewardship, thus - much like Nathan Greno and Rich Moore - went back to his old pervy boss. Skydance Animation undeniably has a lot of top talent there, and directors of past animation blockbusters, but it really just sucks that it's run by Lasseter. And apparently he's running it just like he did with Pixar and WDAS, just as toxic. He micromanages projects once more and buckles directors under his mandates, like Alessandro Carloni, who was supposed to direct LUCK... But these guys are his favorites, so I presume they'll do fine over there.

Next year sees the release of IN YOUR DREAMS, from directors Alex Woo and Erik Benson. Two total opposite brothers who go to dreamland and try to convince the Sandman to save their parents' failing marriage, sounds promising. We already knew about THE TWITS, and also THE IMAGINARY, which debuts in a few weeks. Three imaginary friends movies in one year, coincidentally the year FOSTER'S HOME FOR IMAGINARY FRIENDS turns 20... I refuse to process that. I was so big on FOSTER'S back in the day, when I was 12 years old. Speaking of TV cartoons and adaptations of those, THE PLANKTON MOVIE is also on the boards for 2025, continuing the Netflix SpongeBob movie series running alongside the theatrical ones.

I'm also very happy to see that Sony Animation's wild-sounding K-POP: DEMON HUNTERS, from directors Maggie Kang and Chris Appelhans, is underway and will be debuting sometime next year. Sony Animation also revealed a new HOTEL, I mean... MOTEL TRANSYLVANIA series, and are still at work on the GHOSTBUSTERS animated series as well. Since this was all for Netflix-only projects, not a peep on the GHOSTBUSTERS animated movie that's also on the rails. I wish DEMON HUNTERS was heading to theaters, though, that's such a bonkers-looking film that would work great like that. Much like their MITCHELLS VS. THE MACHINES, but that got re-routed because of COVID, so I get that.

Curiously, no word on THE SHRINKING OF TREEHORN, a book adaptation from director Ron Howard. First thought to be a 2023 release, Netflix picked up the picture in 2022 and didn't set a date... Maybe it's gone the way of EMBER and other canned Netflix animated movies? Or a new date will be inked eventually? If it's aiming for 2026, then that'll explain the absence.

I'll keep my eyes on these as they get closer, but my top picks are VENGEANCE MOST FOWL and K-POP: DEMON HUNTERS.

[ottpopfic]

People are home from work now, the later shifts still trickling in. Katie doesn't expect Lit for another half hour, the wrestling team he coaches is going to state soon so they're getting in extra practice. Aunt Georgie is in the kitchen with Aunt Calypso taking out some anger on potatoes

“What's with Aunt Georgie?” Katie asks the room as a whole

“I had three field trips today, THREE!” her youngest aunt cries “A middle schooler tried to lick a statue’s ass! What the hell is wrong with kids!?”

Ah, she must have been on tours today. Aunt Georgie is much more of a conservation and archives kind of art historian, but the Illinois State Museum has everyone do a tour shift at least once a month to keep it fair. Aunt Georgie loves her job, but she doesn't do sticky fingers and snotty noses, or dumbasses who touch the art

Katie leaves her aunt to take out her day on the potatoes, she hopes Aunt Calypso doesn't need them diced because they're edging towards mashed.

Katie turns her attention to the WorkShop

“What are you doing to my cousin?” she asks Uncle Leo who still has his upper torso in the dragon's neck

“I'm updating the-”

“Aren't you supposed to be troubleshooting his hydraulics?”

“Uh-”

“Wasn't he supposed to be closed up hours ago?”

“Don't do me like this” Uncle Leo pleads peeking his head out

“Put my fucking cousin back together” Katie scolds, ridiculous

Uncle Leo starts grumbling about how she sounds like the worst combination of her dads but gets his shit together. She hears Uncle Jason snickering at his husband from the couch, the shit she has to deal with with these grown-ass men she can't fathom what her dads had to deal with when they were chock-full of hormones

She gets to packing what she needs from the workshop, pulling her backpack from under a bench. It's less of a classic backpack and more of a fancy leather folding tackle box with backpack straps. Inside is a multitude of small snap lock boxes filled with a shmorgishborg of shrunk-down objects. She only needs to pack tools, current projects, and single-use weapons, everything else is either in Lettie’s bags or already there.

“If you steal my good pliers again I'm coming after you” Uncle Leo threatens from inside Festus

“There my pliers!” she protests

“There Katie’s pliers,” Uncle Jason monotones, turning the page in his book “she brought them with her when she moved here”

“And she stole them from me when she was still in school!” Uncle Leo defends pulling his head back out so he can gesture “There my pliers!”

“Just get new pliers”

“It's the principle of the thing!”

“Oh just like when you left the lid off my carbon paint”

“That has nothing to do with the good pliers”

“Ladies ladies you're both pretty, please don't fight” Lit taunts deadpan as he enters the room. Everyone gives a soft cheer at him coming home before going back to what they were doing

“Lit!” Katie calls “Are the blue pliers mine or Uncle Leo’s?”

“I do not care” Lit grumps before collapsing face-first onto a free couch, those kids must be wearing him out

Katie makes eye contact with Uncle Leo, holds up the good pliers, and holds eye contact as she shrinks them down and adds them to her packing. He makes a ‘your dead meat’ throat slice and thumbs down motion and then goes back to closing up Festus. Katie is going to have to double check she locks the door to her and Lettie’s room when they leave, her girlfriend will not be happy if pranking starts up again

They are saved from having to duke it out (aka, Katie continuing to pick a fight, Uncle Leo trying to turn Katie upside down from her ankles and shake her like he did when she was a kid, failing at it because she's taller than him now, and them play fighting on the floor of the workshop like proper Hephustus kids until Uncle Jason has to break them up because there doing it by the saws again and that stresses him out) by Lettie leading in a very bedraggled trio of Steel children

“What happened to you?” Uncle Jason asks

“This stupid place keeps sending us to the fucking elephant’s room!” Jackie wails, she has hay in her freshly washed gray hair

“Yeah, the Way Station is still pissed at Gus for exploding the west wall when he was here last” Uncle Leo tell them “It likes to try and get people to step in Livia’s shit when its mad”

“I said I was sorry!” Gus yells to the ceiling. Katie can feel a prickle of annoyance against her brain stem, from the snicker Uncle Leo lets out as he goes back to closing up Festus he can feel it too. A cabinet on the wall opens and smacks the seventeen-year-old on the back if the head

“Come clean up and set the table” Aunt Georgie suggests, also feeling the building “Way Station will forgive faster if you show remorse through action”

[ofmermaidstories]

ur post about oc fic and reader insert fic made me think about how every time i see a post dragging x reader it's kinda just... thinly veiled misogyny.

like i don't wanna get super deep or whatever but a good chunk of x reader writers (myself included) are just women or people socialized as women that have felt unloved or under appreciated in their lives because of their looks or their personality or their skills in things that women/feminine people are expected to excel in and i think that oc/reader insert stories give women a really important space to make themselves (or a version of themselves) the most desired thing which is something that they often don't experience. it's a space where women can feel comfortable and loved in a world where they're under appreciated and tossed aside because of things out of their control and it drives me up a wall when i see people shitting on these spaces and these works because these are just safe spaces for marginalized people PREDOMINATELY CREATED BY MARGINALIZED PEOPLE!!

n e ways this was a long rant oops..

omg see the thing that gets me about the occassional x reader/oc drag is that—the call is coming from inside the house LMAO. like, okay maybe original characters in fics aren’t a niche thing, but x reader sure the hell is, so you have to like, know internet culture/fandom to be aware of it let alone to start using it like an insult, you know? and i would argue that fanfic tends to be a hobby that attracts marginalised identities as you say, so like, why are we clowning on ourselves? LOL. it’s like a mathlete bullying the horse girl of their class, like, buddy—we’re both losers!!! get over yourself LMAO.

i think my favourite dig at x reader (specifically) that i’ve ever seen is some rando on tiktok saying it was fanfic for people who were popular in public school—i think it’s so telling of how other fans might view oc/reader content? like, “oh that’s just some straight girl shit, they’re not putting any effort into it/they’re stealing our precious ship boys for their pORN/they’re ruining the canon story by inserting themselves into it”. and idk—part of it is just human nature (we are always going to shit on things we don’t like, that is a fact) and part of it might be fandom/internet culture at large at the moment (the purity aspect/policing) but at the end of the day all we can do is tell them to eat dog shit when they sprout up in our spaces and ignore ‘em.

idk! it drives me bonkers though, because it does feel like these spaces/niches do get targeted unfairly for it—if it’s not for the simple crime of writing a love story with your favourite character, then it’s like… being old and doing it! because god forbid you be over the age of 18 and still enjoy engaging with fiction! don’t you have a mortgage to go pay? like—i never see that attitude (within a fandom space) directed at the grown-ass men and women and gender neutral pals who play like, Dungeons and Dragons. No one (within a fandom space!) tells them they’re weird for forty-hour long campaigns where they fight and fall in love and idk, put dragons in some dungeons or something. no—it’s the blatant love stories that get picked on. the ones written by girls (gender neutral).

romance—and falling in love—is one of the most universal feelings/acts in the world. we want to fall in love with everything! in every world! we wanna—fall in love and be loved by superheroes and the villains they fight and the monsters in the dark and the good guys that rush in with swords and the cute barista at the coffee shop down the road. if other fans wanna get hung up on the fact that a tiny fraction of others want to insert themselves in these incredible worlds and experience everything they want to (having powers; being saved. saving someone else—saving yourself) then that’s their problem lmaoooo. im sorry you can’t have fun and create whimsy for yourself by drawing an oc who wins the sports festival and saves bakugou from being kidnapped—but im built different. 😌 and im gonna have fun while im here.