#all thanks to this silly horse song

[kweendodongo]

Okay a good question for Zelda fans. Does any particular track elicit such heart-wrenching nostalgia that it brings you to tears?

[togament]

omgggggg togame with a breeding kink i 🫣 if he can take care of choji of course he could take care of a baby

hello, anon! first off, holy shit thank you for planting that idea in my brain. togame with a breeding kink is making me THINK THINGS.

" togame didn’t realize he had a breeding kink until you put the offer on the table. now it’s all he wants to do to you. "

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : BREEDING KINK TOGAME TIME HOLY FUUUUCK, slight praise + degradation combo if you squint, fem! reader, mating press, slight choking, reader is kind of a brat but togame can manage, crying over how good it feels, togame’s going feral, togame’s breeder ballz, togame’s horse cock, togame.

you know the drill. MDNI under the cut. if you’re under 18, shoo shoo now please and thank you.

“I kinda want a baby,” you say as your sunk into your plush couch, sounds ranging from 2 second long clips of popular pop songs to ridiculous soundbytes emanate from your phone while you mindlessly scroll through your instagram reels. your eyes don’t meet togame’s but you can just feel him staring at you with eyes larger than saucers.

you feel the couch dipping when he moves to see you clearer. “woah, babe. where’s this all comin’ from?” he purred with a light lilt to his voice, already set to tease you about it. he’s placing his phone down on the coffee table to face you fully on the couch.

you got his attention.

“I mean… you can handle choji right? if you can take care of him, then you can definitely take care of a baby,” you follow suit, placing your phone on top of his on the table, mirroring him as you face him too. “just thought you’d be a great dad and all.”

‘—a great dad…’ he echoes in his mind. that… sounds appealing to him somehow.

“babies don’t beat people up senselessly, do they?” he jokes. it’s his own silly way of lightening up the mood because huh? that was such a serious subject to open up about. but then he’s met with silence and you reaching out to take your phone back from the coffee table.

oh. oh you were serious about it.

he fucked up there.

you feel his larger hand cover yours before you even touch your phone. with a chuckle, his voice lowers into a soft drawn out tone. it’s like he’s cooing at you. “hmm. ‘a baby’ or ‘our baby’, bunny?” a smile ghosts his features, an eyebrow raised at you with his head angled towards you. while he’s waiting for you to cool down (it doesn’t take long), he’s raising your hand to his lips, he presses kisses on the back of it without looking away from you for a second.

he wants you to know he’s serious too. albeit a bit more… eager than he’d hoped he’d seem.

“…you know what i mean, idiot,” you add with a roll of your eyes. pulling your hand away, you effortlessly pivot yourself to straddle his lap on the couch. he lets out a small hum with his large hands squeezing your ass cheeks. you can feel his thumbs digging into your hip bones, guiding you to move on his now hardened cock through his gray sweatpants.

“i wanna hear it from your lips though,” he guides you to circle your hips, earning a soft sigh from him when you wordlessly comply. “let me ask it again,” his thumbs reach into your shirt to rub at the skin of your hips. your hips seem like they got a mind of its own. staring down at your boyfriend, you swear there’s a different type of glow to them.

he already knew what you wanted to do when you placed your phone over his and not beside it.

“you want me to take care of ‘a baby’ or ‘our baby’?” he purrs, feeling you soak through your panties. his sweatpants have two darker spots on them now, right under where you’re grinding and one just above it. already succumbing to the pleasure, you shamelessly, deliciously start grinding harder, your hands behind you and steady on his knees. letting go of your hip, he thumbs your clit while you continue riding him. you let out a yelp.

“hm? well, baby? you just gonna ride me dry and leave me hangin’?”

a beat.

“o-our baby.” you moan, throwing your head back while you continue soaking through your shorts, your panties. “our baby, togame- fuck-“

withdrawing his thumb harshly from your clit, he purrs. “good fucking girl.”

expertly maneuvering you so he could have you underneath him on the couch, his hand yanks your panties so they’re just hanging from your ankle. dipping lower, he presses kisses along your clothed chest and down, down towards your sopping wet pussy. licking and gently biting on your inner thigh, he looks up at you to speak once more. “Imma need you to scream that shit later, alright doll? I want the neighbors to know yer getting a baby put in ya.”

"so we throwin' the condoms away now?" he teases, motioning over to the side of your bed where you leave boxes upon boxes of condoms. you're both on the bed now, clothes haphazardly shed around your apartment. he's prepped you on the couch earlier, eating you out until you were an absolute quivering mess. your thighs are littered with hickies, bites and small crescents from his nails from when you tried to move away -- you were sensitive but he knew you could handle it.

he's hovering over you, staring down at you so lovingly you almost want him to cuddle you instead. his fingers caress your cheek softly and you lean into it, staring back up at him. FUCK. OKAY. gotta keep your head in the game.

you're trying to get bred and your boyfriend is more than willing to do so. "just shut up and fuck a baby into me already-" you groan, hooking your legs over his waist to pull him closer to you. he's painfully hard right now and he so desperately needs that hot wet warmth envelop him but.. what's this? attitude when he's giving you what you want?

he knows your little game. he's gonna play into it like the great boyfriend that he is.

"okaaay, okay. jesus, baby. tryna let me fuck that attitude outta ya?" his hand ghosts along your neck, caressing it before giving it a light squeeze. your smaller hand caresses his forearm.

"should I just get up and leave?" you add, squeezing his forearm, making him squeeze just a bit harder. "I said what I said."

he huffs when he feels your ankles digging into his lower back. "bossy," reaching down, he pumps his cock a few times before painting the pre on your folds. he's licking his lips now, loving the slick that's coating his thick, mushroom tip. "but that's why I fell in love with you." dripping lube onto your pussy and his tip now, he moves.

no prep, no easing in, no whispered assurances. he's fully sheathed inside of you now; he's curved upwards and to the right so he's definitely, definitely pressing up against the spongey part, moving slightly just to caress it from the inside. his pubes pressing tightly against your core as he stills for a brief moment, breathing in through his teeth with a 'hsssss'. "hhhaaa-! god, you feel so good-" gripping your hips and guiding you to place your legs on the insides of his elbows, leaning closer to you, pressing deeper.. deeper. "i think i'm boutta bust-", he's managed to sneak another teasing jab at you before you slap his chest with a soft thud.

"don't you fucking da-Aah~!" you attempt to nag him before he has you folded into the mattress, held into a mating press with his larger and steady frame. his thick member fucks into you and you yelp, digging your nails into his shoulders. you're sensitive, extremely so. after cumming on his tongue thrice earlier, how couldn't you be? y

ou can feel his balls slapping against your ass. "s-good!!!!" your voice goes unheard, already cock drunk while your lover's fully concentrated on give you what the both of you so desperately want. he doesn't respond. he's moving so harshly the bed shakes and creaks. the headboard rhythmically bumping against the wall above you. his thrusts are far from how he usually fucks you though. it's like he's a different demon now.

it's like he's on a mission.

of course he is. he's out to breed you, remember?

with every thrust, every roll of his hips, you can feel he's been holding this back. how he never asked to take you without a condom on, always waiting for you to speak up first. he's savoring it. sweat drips from his curly black hair and down to your chest, naked bodies writhing on the clean sheets of your bed.

it'll no longer be clean when he's done with you.

"i fuckin' love you," he mumbles against your neck, licking a line up to your ear and he whispers hotly, "i love fuckin' you. yer cunt's droolin' fer me, bunny. want that baby so badly?" his voice grows hot against your neck but then you feel his hand snake between the both of you, pinching and rubbing your clit until you're tightening around him even more. "ye-yes," you whimper quietly, meeting his emerald eyes before he rubs faster, FASTER. "remember what I asked, sweetie? i need you to scream. need the neighbors t'hear y--" "fuck-yes!! put a baby in me togame please, oh fucking PLEASE..!!" you scream and beg, earning a satisfied togame.

"that's my girl," he coos, rubbing your clit and thrusting into you deeper and harder, his fat tip pressing kisses on your cervix.

with the mixed sensation of your pussy clenching around him and his throbbing length buried inside you, he feels like he's about to-

"c-cum.. I'm gonna fuckin' cum. where d'ya want me, baby?" he says between thrusts. he stops rubbing your clit for a moment to spit on his hand to rub you again. "fuckin' scream for me."

"inside! cum inside me please!" you do as you're told. he's rolling your clit between his thumb and forefinger to coax out another reaction from you. his eyes never leaving your sweating and writhing form. "l-look at me when I'm cumming-filling this tight pussy up-- put that baby in y-" his thrusts grow sharper, sloppier, you keep your eyes trained onto him, digging your nails into his shoulders. "sh-it!! I love you-uughh!" a groan escapes his lips as he fills you for the first time. his hand stills on your clit while he's steadily sheathed inside you, spilling and throbbing. the warmth is addicting. you follow suit, squirting and tightening around his thick length, back arching from the bed. you tremble underneath him while you both come down from your high.

with a sigh, he barely holds his weight up on his elbows, hovering over you. he leans down to press a loving, sweaty kiss on your lips though.

"happy?" he asks, still breathless.

the brightest of smiles paint your lips before you respond. "let's do that again." "idiot." ♡⋆˙

a/n: hhehegreehhehe togame. send tweet. tysvm for reading through this and extra tysvm for anon ;v;

p.s: landlord fucking hates you and togame btw lol constant noise complaint after noise complaint. iykyk.

[onlyangel4]

cowboy like me. ls2. smau.

logan sargeant x cowgirl/small town country singer!reader

in which logan thinks he has lost everything but a trip to the south helps him find the love of his life.

author's note: grant is a fictional character, for this he is one of logan's best friends.

faceclaim: ella langley

y/ninsta

liked by y/bff, friend1, friend2 and 431 others

tagged: y/bff

y/ninsta: life lately

view all 23 comments

y/bff: has nutmeg decided to not be a dick anymore

y/ninsta: how many times do i have to apologise for my horse

y/bff: she almost killed me!

friend1: can't wait to see you perform this weekend, gonna cheer embarrassingly loud

y/ninsta: i'll take all the support i can get

logansargeant posted a story tagging grantwilson

written: trusting grant with directions was a bad idea, we are 100% lost right now

y/ninsta posted a story

written: playing here tonight, if you loved me you would show up and listen to my silly little songs

y/ninsta posted a story

written: tonight's fit

logansargeant posted a story

written: recharging with some live music in nashville

y/ninsta posted a story

written: about to introduce a man to nutmeg, this is going to end terribly

logansargeant posted two stories

story one written: this is nutmeg. shortly after this photo was taken nutmeg tried to kill me. i shall be riding a different horse today

story two written: this is billy, he didn't try to kill me

y/ninsta posted a story

written: i am once again riding nutmeg because she tries to kill everyone but me

grantwilson posted a story tagging logansargeant

written: i just picked logan up from the ranch, this trip is going just how i planned it

y/ninsta posted a story

written: i think i clean up pretty well

logansargeant

liked by y/ninsta, alexalbon, grantwilson and 1,293,382 others

tagged: y/ninsta

logansargeant: three months ago grant forced me on a roadtrip that i did not want to go on. and i ended up never going back to florida. i was at a very low point mentally and i had no idea what my next step was going to be but meeting you changed my life.

y/n your light has helped me in ways you will never understand, thank you for always being around to listen, for teaching me how to ride a horse and always being up for fun little adventures. i love you so much and i can't wait to see what the future brings us

view all 183,384 comments

y/ninsta: i am obsessed with you

logansargeant: promise me, i am more obsessed with you

grantwilson: just call me cupid

logansargeant: no

y/ninsta: no

alexalbon: so the man that used to make fun of me for having a zoo now lives with animals

y/ninsta: two horses, three dogs, two cats and two rabbits

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

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[akirathedramaqueen]

There's one piece of concept art that made me see the entire Apology Tour disaster in a different light.

So, we've been talking with @warblogs17282 about Stolitz and how their break-up ended up playing out in the 'Apology Tour' episode.

Why ended up? Well, there's a collection of concept art which, to my limited understanding of this craft, is one of the first steps in the production process of animation. This post by @birdy-babe includes a great chunk of it, shared by artists after the episodes aired (like storyboards, but much more stylised, showing how different some original ideas were). Long story short, one of the concept arts from the 'Apology Tour' episode suggests their quarrel was originally meant to be much harsher.

A short summary of the concept art to see what we are dealing with

In the background, you see a lot of apology postcards and silly cutesy stationery, suggesting Blitzø is in the middle of his Apology Tour.

The contact name isn't 'Stols' but 'Bird Dick,' implying their relationship is at an earlier stage, with less respect—at least on Blitzø's part.

There's a photo partially cut by the edge of the messages screen. From the signature gloves and boots, cowboy hat covering Blitzø's private parts, and visible nipples, it appears to be a nude image—replaced in later stages of development with stupid gay affirmation memes (as hard as it is to believe, I couldn't imagine there could be anything worse than the Striker horse gay jokes... well, it could, my dudes, it fucking COULD).

There are three messages, one of which is unsent:

"Stolas, cum awwwwwwn, u no u want it :)"—likely attached to the nude;

"Dude just talk to me"—desperation crawls in; he finally realises the shit has hit the fan;

"Im sowwy :("—an apology, but the text remains unsent, perhaps because it seems pointless, given that the 'Not Delivered' notifications and warning signs indicate Stolas has blocked his number.

Why do I find this fascinating, and why does it fill me with immense hope?

Because they still fucking care so much, and neither has completely closed the door on the other. By comparing the concept art to the final product, you can see how many intentional choices were made in dialogue, visuals, and behaviour to make it clear that these two idiots still want things to continue. Stolitz is meant to fucking live.

Now, if you want to see some comparisons—evidence, really—let's dive into each other's changes, focusing on what we can gather from the concept art.

Blitzø's side

Change 1—thank gods, no nudes. The gay memes are sillier and a bit lighter. Of course, they still showcase utter disrespect, a horrible prejudice against sexuality, and a poor understanding of how deeply Stolas was hurt, but I find them... less bad.

Change 2—no more 'Bird Dick.' Blitzø has actually come up with a real nickname for Stolas! Feelings are boring for you, huh, Blitzø? I can almost hear the song’s lines: "O-oh, hooked, addicted you might say, conflicted in a way…"

Change 3—Blitzø's attempts to apologize now show much more contemplation. Since Stolas hasn’t blocked him, Blitzø knows his words aren’t just being thrown into the void. Although the 'unsent' detail remains, it now carries real weight and impact.

All three changes are seen in these two GIFs.

He knows he did wrong. He knows he wants to salvage it. He might not yet know how to do it healthily, but he tries—he tries so fucking hard!

Look at the range of raw, cutting emotions as he speaks to Stolas and finally delivers his apology—probably the only one he genuinely meant. Well, maybe except for Verosika, a bit later.

It's not that it's hard for Blitzø to say 'sorry'—we've seen him do it a lot lately. He's actually quick to apologise and take responsibility, so Stolas's remark about him not feeling any remorse couldn’t be further from the truth. But the fact that he isn't running away this time—chasing after Stolas and trying his best to mend things—is drastically different from how he treated Verosika back then.

Stolas's side

Here’s the moment that struck me deep. It’s the only change, since the concept art shows Blitzø’s POV, but it’s such a significant one.

Do you think Stolas has moved on? Do you think he’s done with Blitzø? Not convinced, even when he’s literally singing about still wanting Blitzø?

Well, here’s your proof—he didn’t block Blitzø. They scrapped that.

More than that, the entire interaction emphasizes that Stolas isn’t pushing Blitzø away for good.

How do I know this? Stolas is very insistent on using phrases like 'for now,' 'right now,' and 'now' throughout his attempts to tell Blitzø off.

Here are some citations:

"I was hoping my lack of 'ha-ha's' in response to the photos you sent me would be an indicator I didn't want to talk right now."

"Seeing you right now is hard!"

"I'm tired of this! I'm uncomfortable with how you're speaking to me now!"

Why is this so important? Because he isn’t asking Blitzø to leave him forever. All he’s asking for is time.

Even while hurt, Stolas gives Blitzø plenty of chances to explain himself civilly. Look at the hopeful glances each time Blitzø shows any glimpse of genuineness.

Stolas fucking hopes Blitzø will take back all the cruel things said and brash actions done.

You know, Stolas... I've spent the entirety of this morning listening to love ballads, and that was...

For what?! You want me to be like, "Oh sorry, this entire time I assumed the worst because I was convinced a prince could never love someone like me and I've let my self-hatred stop me from apologising to anyone I could ever care about!"

You see the furrowed brows and the sad look? Stolas hopes for the best... but gets the worst because Blitzø isn’t there yet.

I’d even go so far as to say Stolas is acutely aware that Blitzø uses his brashness as a shield to protect himself. He literally sang about it in 'Just Look My Way.'

Unless it's me? And no matter what in this world I could give, it's not enough to get through these walls you've conjured up to live.

So, what gives?

Is this the behaviour of people who want to give up on a relationship they still clearly hold dear?

No. Even when they’re angry, aggressive, hurt, or drunk, they still seek understanding and forgiveness. They continue to listen and try.

They might lack the skills and may choose the wrong time, place, or words to express what truly matters...

One person, scared of being rejected so much that he unconsciously conveys this message by saying, "You don’t have to stay here with me," and carrying it throughout the whole conversation...

The other, coming to terms with his feelings, admits them, and his fears, a bit too late—when his romantic interest is too drunk to comprehend anything…

And in both cases—self-loathing, self-hatred, doubts, scars, trauma… and a lack of hope.

But there is hope. No, this is reassurance, my folks.

You know when it's hardest to stay in a relationship? When it’s hardest to come and say, "I am sorry," when it’s hardest to still love the person?

When you’re hurt. When they’ve hurt you.

And, despite that, you still come to them and still want to talk to them.

If this isn’t ironclad evidence that this is more than just a fling or a couple of fun sex dates, I don’t know what is.

And the 'Apology Tour' fucking proves it, rather than ruins it. It only strengthens the point. It’s easy to live in happiness, but it’s so hard to go through it while you’re in pain. When you see them doing that, you realise it means everything to them.

Stolitz is to live.

[paperstorm]

Thanks for the tags @heartstringsduet and @corsage! Have a slightly longer snippet than usual to introduce you to a musician AU I am in the very very early stages of working on. ([Band name] redacted only because I haven't settled on one yet 😂 My dumb brain that loves a pun keeps suggesting Strand and Deliver but that's too silly)

-

TK blinks. For a moment, he’s sure he heard wrong. “A tour?”

“Limited American, to start,” Billy says. “And then expanding to Europe if we can, depending on ticket sales.”

With another blink and a dumbfounded shake of his head, TK reiterates, “You want me to go on a world tour? When I literally just got out of rehab?”

Billy frowns. “Oh, is there like … more shit you need to do? With that?”

“I – not, there isn’t …” TK babbles, unable to adequately voice why he’s reacting this way, because really, Billy isn’t wrong. He finished his 30 days. It’s been two weeks on top of that, and he’s stayed away from anything stronger than a regular strength Tylenol for the headache he had last Thursday. He’s not on probation, he’s not being required to do another month in some kind of halfway house. The only thing on his calendar for the foreseeable future is rotting on his couch with a bowl of cereal and binging some sitcom he’s already watched a million times. He doesn’t really have a good reason that he shouldn’t jump right back into work, he just wasn’t expecting it to happen. He hasn’t even reconnected with his band, yet.

“I’m not gonna force you to do anything,” Billy tells him, folding his hands on his desk and looking at TK with a furrowed brow. “If you don’t think you’re ready, we can put all this on hold until you are.”

“But?” TK asks, sensing there’s a big one coming.

Sniffing loudly, Billy’s hands transfer to his keyboard. It clacks noisily in the quiet room as he types, and then he rotates the monitor so TK can see the screen.

The sight that greets him is a Google search of his own name, and as Billy slowly presses the down arrow on his keyboard, TK’s eyes travel over headline after headline – Musician TK Strand seen emerging from upstate drug and alcohol rehabilitation facility, and Lead singer of [band name] checks out of rehab; fans wonder what’s next for the group, and [Band name]’s critically acclaimed album dropped almost eight months ago, here’s why no one’s heard from them since.

He gets stuck for a moment on a particularly cruel one, questioning whether the band will have what it takes to pick up where they left off after a widely publicized relapse derailed what should have been their biggest tour to date.

“The most surefire way to shut all this up, is to get right back on the horse,” Billy says, in a voice that’s serious but not unkind. “You’ve still got an album full of new songs that your fans are dying to hear live, it’s just a few months later than it was supposed to be.”

“They don’t think I’ve got what it takes.” TK nods toward the computer screen.

Billy rotates it back toward himself so TK can’t see it anymore. “They’re wrong.”

“What if they’re not?”

“Only one way to find out.”

“I guess,” TK concedes, swallowing over his dry throat.

“There’s one more thing.”

“Okay.”

“The label suggested it, just so’s you know.”

“God, what?” TK groans, expecting the worst.

“If you agree to this tour, they want to pick your opener.”

“Oh.” TK frowns. It’s not nearly as bad as some of the things he was imagining. “That’s all?”

Pursing his lips, Billy asks, “You heard of Carlos Reyes?”

The name sounds vaguely familiar, but TK doesn’t recognize it well enough to be positive as he asks, “Carlos … wait, that song that’s been all over TikTok? That people are like hoedown dancing to?”

“That’s the one.”

“He’s a country singer,” TK says, stating what surely must be obvious.

“He is,” Billy agrees without further explanation.

“I don’t feel like we’ll have a ton of crossover fans.”

“He is up and coming.”

“Does he even have more than that one shitty song?”

Billy turns to his keyboard again and shows TK the guy’s Wikipedia page. He’s a year younger than TK and handsome in that wholesome, good Southern boy sort of way, complete with a cross necklace glinting against his clearly shaved chest. As Billy scrolls to the bottom, TK’s gaze catches the information that the lead guitarist and bass player for Reyes’s travelling band are a married couple, and TK barely holds in a scoff.

“He has two albums and an EP,” Billy points out. “He just hasn’t really taken off much, until now.”

Annoyed, TK asks, “And the label thinks, what, we can’t put asses in seats anymore without some lame TikTok star? That I can’t?”

“He’s not a TikTok star, he’s a musician with a growing fanbase. And he’s got a reputation that is not, unlike yours at the moment, covered in shit,” Billy explains in a no-nonsense voice.

“Right.” TK huffs and slides back in his chair. “So, that’s what this is. I was high at a Grammy party three months ago and now my name is mud, so the label wants me to bring some Mouseketeer in a cowboy hat along to calm the shareholders down.”

“I doubt they’d put it exactly that way.” Billy exhales and shrugs. “But basically, yeah. That’s the long and short of it. Reyes and his band are good clean fun, whereas people are still circulating pictures of you almost puking on Ariana Grande, so they’re not willing to put up the money for the tour unless you agree to bring him with you.”

“Fabulous,” TK mutters. “What could go wrong.”

“For the sake of your future in this business, you better hope absolutely fucking nothing,” Billy warns, and it still isn’t unkind, but he isn’t joking.

Tagging @theghostofashton @birdclowns @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

@carlos-in-glasses @actual-sleeping-beauty @thisbuildinghasfeelings @herefortarlos @heartstringduet

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@reasonandfaithinharmony @thebumblecee @never-blooms @lemonlyman-dotcom

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@fifthrideroftheapocalypse @butchreyes @just-inside-her @firstprince-history-huh @captain-gillian

@tellmegoodbye @anactualcaseofthetruth @ironheartwriter @eclectic-sassycoweyes @ditheringmind

@emsprovisions @irispurpurea @nisbanisba @corsage @cheekgirl89

Want to be added or removed from the list? Lmk

[butchbarneygumble]

Imagine how I must feel as one of the only fans of Mighty Magiswords. You know. A headcanons-and-fanfic kind of fan. I even cosplayed Prohyas once.

Of course, it's nothing compared to what the actual victims went through... I'm fine. But it still felt like a part of my identity has been permanently soured. I don't want to seem like I somehow have it worse, that's not my intention. Nothing bad happened to me personally. I'm only posting my own side of how I deal with the situation, to get some closure myself and show solidarity with the victims.

I don't admire him anymore, and that's putting it lightly.

Full story under cut. Content warning for non-graphic discussion of csa.

The news came to me from my ex-but-still-friend. He told me privately, out of nowhere, just dropped it on me. Like, "Hey, sorry to tell you, but the guy you like got arrested for csa". However, I am glad he told me rather than me having to find out on my own.

The news hit me, and I felt nothing in my body. I usually would get this painful fight-or-flight all through my body whenever I read something that upset me, something I've been training myself to get better with. But right now? I just felt like... "huh. That happened." It helped a lot that Magiswords wasn't my fixation of the moment. And like... it's been like I've been slipping away from it. Like I didn't need it anymore.

More and more people were talking about him, and it wasn't positive. Who? Kyle.

I talked to him. Personally, like many people did. He never acted weird to me. I admired him. I loved his art, sent him physical fanart, all that stuff. I knew more than one person said he was not trustworthy but hey, he made a show that saved my life, so it was a constant struggle between feeling like I had to pick sides. I was going through hell by virtue of my dad being terminally sick and needing constant care, so I was gonna ignore the red flags and enjoy my silly sword show that brought me such joy.

Even if as time went on it started get harder and harder.

But you know what a certain depressed horse show said? When you're wearing rose coloured glasses, red flags just look like flags.

I now think dodged a bullet.

What emotions do I feel? Betrayal. Anger. Disgust. Disappointment.

The irony about it all. The sheer painful irony of blacklisting somebody for *drawings*, and then going behind everybody's back to actually hoard *actual* csa, and revenge porn, and all sorts of nasty stuff. For the record: there is nothing wrong with being put off or disgusted by specific sorts of drawings. But the irony here is what's most painful to me. I do not like people using this as a "gotcha" for either side of this tired argument. It's disrespectful to the actual victims.

People say I can easily seperate art from the artist if I want to but... right now I don't think I want to. He's in every pore of its identity. I do not want to talk or think about Magiswords right now, and I don't know if I ever will again.

It meant so much to me. Prohyas felt like Me. Being a goofy capable adult who doesn't stop collecting things he likes just cuz he's an adult. I thought I was trans for a while and the euphoria of relating to Prohyas helped that. Then he got lowkey confirmed nonbinary and I was over the moon.

It was good. Emphasis on "was".

And to the man himself I have one thing to say: you're another one in a long history of cartoon artists who end up being unsavoury, slimy people, taking advantage of young people, especially girls, in the animation industry. Not something to be proud of. I know we talked and you seemed perfectly okay to me, personally. All I can think is thank god it never went beyond casual chats.

I guess I can finally say I never liked the joke about Vambre not liking pants. Sure, sensory issues exist, but I doubt that was the intention of the design. I have deleted my sideblog where I chronicled ooc screencaps of the show and deleted my little spotify playlist of songs that reminded me of the show. I don't want to finish my longfic where Prohyas and Flonk fell in love anymore. I can't even change it into ocs because it's just so ingrained in the show's lore. So yeah, there's that.

I'll be fine. When the news hit I took it surprisingly well. I was going to an Alestorm concert and it was the most fun I had in ages. So yeah, I've got Christopher Bowes and His Plate of Beans to fill the void of comedy music. Was fixating on Simpsons already so there's that in terms of cartoons. I'm fine.

All I can say is my heart goes out to all the victims, and I'm deeply sorry I didn't see you sooner. I hope you can heal and have some semblance of closure now that he's gotten arrested. My heart goes out to all of you and again, I am so so sorry. I wish you all the love and healing.

[runnning-outof-time]

Congratulations on the 3.5k followers again! You are such a loved member of this Peaky community, it really wouldn't be the same without you ❤️. From your prompt list I'm gonna go with the very last one, "I didn't get your name" and of course I will be picking Tommy 😉. Really looking forward to see what you come up with!

Thanks so much for the love, Brummie! I was secretly hoping someone would send this one in. I hope you like what I’ve done with it! I’m trying to get back on the horse after not writing for a bit - this one happened differently in my mind, but I just couldn’t put it to words….I hope it’s still alright though. Also I’m sorry if it looks silly with the same gifs going - I wanted to use the one you sent with your ask but the spacing looked weird without it under the title. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Part of my 3.5k celebration — find other stories here!

To Unbearable Parties…

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: drinking, language

Word Count: 1018

Summary: (Y/N) and Tommy both meet someone who makes the social function they’re at a little more bearable.

People sauntered around the room, going from group to group, discussing everything under the sun: from business dealings to societal crazes. Drinks were flowing and the band was playing an uptempo song that was good to dance to. No one batted an eye at anything that was happening, because that’s just what went on at these types of parties. (Y/N) absolutely hated it.

She stood in the outskirts of the crowd, her arms semi-crossed as she held a glass of champagne in one hand. Her eyes scanned the crowd, thinking of all of the places instead of here that she’d rather be.

Upon reaching the bottom of her glass, (Y/N) made her way over to the bar. She hoped that she’d be able to quickly get a refill so that she could return to the outskirts of the room again. The bar was situated too close to the middle of the room for her comfort.

She was just about ready to head back after receiving a new glass when she overheard the bartender speaking to the man on her right. “I’m so sorry sir, but we are not serving that here tonight.”

“Fuck sakes,” the man mumbled. (Y/N) easily caught the annoyance in his voice. “You mean to tell me that there’s not a bottle of whiskey here?”

“Not one,” the barman answered with a shake of his head, “we were given strict instructions by Mr. Marshall to have only champagne and other light refreshments in order to make sure that there is not a repeat of the last year’s gala,” he then explained the reason behind the absence of stronger liquor.

The man pressed his palms against the bar, leaning against it before he nodded, “I’ll have a glass of champagne then,” he conceded, speaking like he’d lost a fight.

“I’ll get that right away for you,” the barman nodded, quickly getting to work on fetching the man his drink. “Here you are,” he said once the drink was ready. The man nodded once, accepting the glass before he turned and rested his back against the bar.

“It’s actually pretty good, you know,” (Y/N) couldn’t stop herself from speaking.

“Excuse me?” the man questioned her, turning to face her as he spoke. There was no hint of any sort of anger present in his words. He just hadn’t heard what she said.

(Y/N) got a better look at him now, and upon being given a front facing view of his harsh haircut, she concluded that he was one of the only people who could make it work. Her eyes got stuck on his sharp, blue ones. So stuck that she forgot he asked a question.

“The champagne,” she blurted out, hoping that he didn’t catch her staring, “it’s not a go to of mine, but has been pretty good this evening,” she added, raising her glass to show him she’d been drinking the same.

The man only tipped his head upwards before he brought the glass to his lips, drinking a good amount of the alcohol in one go. “Not bad,” he commented as he sat the glass down on the bar.

(Y/N) only offered a small smile before she offered a silent parting, leaving the bar to go back to the edge of the room. She went back to surveying the room; watching all of the other partygoers enjoy themselves. Why am I even here? she wondered, maybe I should just leave. But before she could, a familiar face approached her.

“You’ve been over here all night,” the man from the bar commented as he approached her.

“You’ve been watching me?” she questioned him, quirking an eyebrow as a smile teetered on her lips.

“No,” he quickly shook his head, “just haven’t noticed you anywhere else.”

“So you’ve been looking for me?” the smile was fully present on her lips now.

The man let out a breath of a chuckle, looking to the floor for a moment. He liked the quick-wittedness of this woman, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t had her stuck in his mind since their interaction at the bar.

“You don’t seem to want to be here,” he said once he looked her way again.

“I could say the same for you,” she turned it right back on him, biting her bottom lip as she held his gaze, “you seemed to be rather frustrated at the bar earlier.”

“This isn’t enough to get me through the evening,” he commented, holding up his fourth glass of champagne to show her what he meant.

“I hear you there,” she smiled softly, nodding her head in agreement.

“I didn’t get your name,” he said then, his eyebrows raised slightly as he awaited her response.

“It’s (Y/N),” she smiled as she gave her answer, looking him up and down then. “I didn’t get yours either,” she stated, her eyes finding his once more.

“Tommy,” his answer was simple. (Y/N) nodded, committing it to memory. She was certain that she wouldn’t be forgetting this man any time soon. “Well, (Y/N), how about a toast, eh?” he suggested after a few moments had passed.

“What are we toasting to, Tommy?” she asked, trying his name out for herself; liking the sound of it coming off of her lips just as much as she liked the sound of hers coming off of his.

“To unbearable parties,” he announced, holding his glass up, winking as he did so. (Y/N) didn’t miss the way that his eyes trailed over her frame as he spoke.

A grin formed on her face, loving the feeling of his eyes on her. Maybe this party wasn’t so bad after all. “To unbearable parties…” she started off, biting on her lip to conceal her grin as she clinked her glass with his, “to unbearable parties that become bearable enough when you find someone to spend the night with,” she added, letting her grin show as they both brought their glasses down to take a drink from them.

To unbearable parties, indeed.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @youtifulsunshinelixfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[canadiannationalfox]

Murder Drones Fanfic - Make Believe Adventures (repost from my dA Missluckychan22)

Tessa, who was now 11, sat mournfully looking at the foggy day through her window. She was being punished for speaking up at breakfast about how she didn't want to practice ballroom dancing. The girl laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

"You can come out of your room at dinner time, young lady!", the words of James Elliott, the girl's strict father, rang through her head.

Serial Designation J, Tessa's very first worker drone friend sat beside her on the bed. The silver ponytailed robot woman reassured, "Look, I know it's bad but, the day will go by,"

The second fixed one, a sweet little butler named N who had curly white hair responded, "Yeah, we could always play Rummy."

"GIN Rummy," J corrected to N, holding back slugging the littler guy in the shoulder for Tessa's sake.

Tessa sighed and hugged her pillow as she looked out her bedroom window. "I want to go on an adventure, I want to sword fight and explore and do something instead of being trapped in this god-awful prison."

J laughed a little at her thought. "No, that's silly,"

"What is it, J?" Tessa inquired, her eyes full of interest in what her favourite girl worker drone was thinking.

J relinquished her thought for the inquisitive Tessa, relaxing her shoulders as she suggested, "Remember that game we used to play when you were 9 right after you fixed me up?" J knew it was silly, however, if Tessa was interested in what her idea could be, then it was all the more worth it now that she told the girl she admired.

"The Princess and the Mage?" the young Elliot family woman exclaimed, trying not to be loud enough for her parents to hear, "I used to love that game!"

N had heard about this game but he never got to play, he eagerly trilled, "Could I play too? I really would wanna join."

"Maybe if we needed a villain…" J teased.

Tessa shook her head and giggled, "Nooo, not a villain, but a prince! A prince captured by a wicked witch!"

Just then, the newest robot Tessa had repaired after her parents destroyed it, a pretty little robot maid with glasses, came in with Tessa's noon tea and biscuits. The bobbed haired drone greeted politely, "Your noon tea, Miss Elliot."

Tessa piped up as she got off the bed and held V's skirt ever so gently to get the robot's attention, "Please, V, could you join me and my friends for a game?"

V looked to N, her LED display showing little white light blush marks before agreeing to play.

Tessa let out a little squeal of delight and stated, "For real life? Thank you, V! I need you to climb ontop of the wardrobe with N, and I want you to pretend to be a witch who kidnapped a prince."

N helped get the chair from Tessa's vanity desk and put it infront of the large wardrobe cabinet. He giggled, "After you, my lady," as he held his hand out to V.

The sweet bespectacled maid took his hand and hopped up onto the chair before laying down on her stomach attop the furniture where N soon joined her. V had read a lot of fairytales in the library with N, and she was familiar with the role of a witch. She took a decorative spoon she kept with her and held it like a makeshift wand. The little maid cackled and called down to Tessa and J, "Helloooo my pretties! I have kidnapped your precious prince! And if you want to save him from me turning him into a dog, you'll save him before sunset tonight!"

N laughed and recounted, "Ooh, good one, V!" before doing his best Shakespearian themed voice and recounting, "Alas, oh Princess Tessa, fairest of them all, dost thou wisheth to save me from becoming a common mutt? I shall wait for thee atop the highest tower in the land." ---------------------------------------

The forest was filled with song birds and sunlight, the two friends, a mage and her princess protege rode on the back of a stunning white horse down the forest path.

"I think you should maybe think of saving another prince, my liege," Lady Jay of Umbridge scorned as she rolled her eyes at the princess with the flowing ebony hair.

The lionhearted Princess Tessa Elliot of Manorwood insisted as they rode out of the forest path and into the emerald glenn, "It wouldn't right of me to let him be turned into a dog, he has a throne to return to, as do we. So let us make haste!" The two women rode towards the edge of the valley, towards a dark forest with cawing crows and rolling fog. The horse began to buck and bray, horrified of the dark woods, causing the two to dismount the creature.

"You won't come with us, will you, girl?" Tessa bargained with the ivory coloured mare.

Lady Jay, sighing in annoyance, waved her hands and summoned forth a bunch of fresh garden carrots, shaking one in front of the horse. "Come on, you wouldn't want the orcs to come and turn tho into glue and a meal, woulds't thou?"

The horse brayed arrogantly at the silver-haired mechanical mage, and began galloping to find another way through the dark woods.

"Guess we are on our own, huh, Jay?" the Princess stated before optimistically calling out, drawing a sword out of the scabbard, "Well then, we must press on, we must make it to the tower through the woods."

The two headed, now on foot into the foggy and dark woods. The eerie forest sounds grew louder as they continued on. The two were stopped as they heard wild cackling.

From a small clearing, with thunderbolts and lightning appearing from the skies above, was the vile and wicked witch simply known as Vendetta. The wild eyed witch shot a lightning bolt straight at Tessa, she leapt clear of the blow. "You may be spritely, dearie, but I am more than a one trick pony!" Vendetta laughed as she commanded a tree to come to life before she flew away on a broom stick while calling out, "Good luck, dearies!"

Princess Tessa brandished her sword, standing infront of the towering, monsterous cyprus.

Jay, waited in the wings, she knew what she would need to do, she just had to do like they practiced.

The Princess, despite being in a dress, effortly dodged the swipes at her by the creature as she swung at it, cleaving off the tendril-like branches with her broadsword.

The tree creature reached down and swiped up the Princess before letting out a roar.

Lady Jay ran full tilt at the tree, holding in her hands a single piece of coal. She ran her thumbs across the carbony rock, causing it to ignite. "See you in Hell, foul beast!" the silver haired mage screamed as she tossed the flaming rock at the Cyprus-Tree creature.

The creature dropped the princess in horror as it went up in flames, letting Tessa fall into the open arms of her lovely mage companion.

The two saw then the end of the storm and charged towards the glistening sunlight. At last, out of the scary forest! Princess Tessa saw as her horse came bounding from the edge of the trees towards her. Lady Jay scoffed with a laugh, "Your horse isn't very brave, Princess."

"That's alright, Jay," the princess reassured as she re-sheathed her sword for now, "But we most certainly are!" The two hopped back upon the steed and ventured closer to the ivory tower, hearing a charming man's voice singing from the room near the spire's top.

"It's the handsome and kind Prince Nathaniel!" Princess Tessa proclaimed as they rode closer to the tower.

The prince noticed the two women approaching on the horse, he called down, "Hello Princess Tessa of Manorwood and Lady Jay of Umbridge!"

Lady Jay mocked from the back of the horse, "If you really were a prince you'd get yourself down there."

Nathaniel sweetly replied, "Maybe if I had 20 years, 35 feet of hair and a pair of scissors."

Vendetta, who was also in the tower couldn't help but giggle at that reference and she bargained down to Princess Tessa, "Okay, tell you what, I won't turn the Prince into a dog, if you let me marry him."

Tessa raised an eyebrow and laughed, "Wait what?"

Lady Jay put her arm around the Princess and responded back rudely, "WELL THATS FINE, SHE DOESN'T NEED A STINKIN PRINCE! BUT I'M STILL GOING UP THERE AND KICKING YOUR ASS, WITCH!" she hopped off the white horse and started climbing with her barehands up the tower, insulting the witch every couple feet.

Tessa hopped off her horse and scolded, "Hang on, Lady Jay! You could fall!"

---------------------------------------

J was climbing up the bookshelf that stood next to the wardrobe.

V giggled as she took a stack of books and started throwing them at J.

Tessa called out, "WAIT!" in fright but it was too late, the sound of the books hitting the floor rang out in the room. She could hear her parents shouting from down the hall and the approaching sound of her father's shoes on the mahogany floors. She called to her robots, "Quick, grab a book and sit near my bed!"

Mr Elliot finally came into Tessa's room, he burst the door open and shouted, "I thought we told you, young-lady to…" he stopped his yelling as he looked on at the sight.

J was softly reading a book to Tessa while they sat on the bed.

N sat at the vanity chair that was now by Tessa's bed, pretending to read silently. V stood in the corner with a handful of books, smiling politely to Mr Elliot.

Tessa's father blinked in confusion before sighing and saying calmly, "Carry on," before walking out and closing the door.

The three robots and their best human friend waited silently until they no longer could hear the foot steps in the hall, and they all had a quiet laugh about it. Tessa pulled in N, V, and J for a group hug, giggling happily, "That was the greatest adventure yet, thank you, all of you."

V giggled, "How about another? We could be pirates?"

N did a silly pirate voice and called out, "Avast! Captain Tessa, let us find treasure across the seven seas!"

J put her arm around Tessa and teased happily, "And I could be your first mate?"

The 11 year-old Tessa nodded happily, and soon she and her robot friends were on another make-believe adventure to make it through the rest of the time until dinner.

The End

[bambiilooza]

okay so ii thought this would be fun soooo

what epic saga is ur fav nd least fav, what is ur fav song in each saga, ur least fav in each saga, your overall fav and least fav

feel free to ramble and/or go off on a tangent about hidden meanings i fw that shit very hard

oh boy. these were really hard to narrow down. thanks for this ask btw, it was fun!!

my fav saga :

the underworld!! ik it's the shortest but each song is such a banger and it's the only one for where each song gets better from the last. all three of the songs are in my top 10 easy.

the polites cameo broke ppl's hearts ik but it was amazing to hear steven in the role again. i love his voice. anticlea was amazing too.

no longer you was actual fire. i LOVE epic's version of tirisias a lot and his voice is perfect. the orchestration in that song is actually beautiful and both actors absolutely kill it.

and monster? oh i'll take about monster later

least fav saga :

cyclops saga. i like it but i don't have strong feelings about the songs except for my goodbye. plot wise, it's important ofc but i dont find myself listening to it as often cuz it's just sad. i do like all the songs tho

i will say polyamorous the cyclops sounds REALLY GOOD in the remastered version. woah what a voice improvement holy moly

i really love my goodbye tho. that song is in my top 10. the 'YOU'RE ALONE!' is actually insane. i need like a 100 animatics for it. it's too good.

fav song in each saga :

just a man

i LOVE jay's performance here. this song made me cry when i first listened to it. i mean it's just everything.

i think most ppl thought 'oh musical about odyssey call epic probably silly boyish fun' and for the most part horse and the infant leads u on with that. then THIS SONG happens and ur crying on the floor.

i love watching animatics for it too. unlike most songs in epic, there is no action in this song, it's pure agony of a man grappling with one of the hardest things anyone can do and it's fucking amazing.

and i said it before just now but the VOCALS. stunning. perfect. jaw dropping.

in my ideal epic animated movie, what i want is for horse and the infant and just a man BEFORE the title card drop. and when ody sings the last line of just a man, it fades to the title screen. then it would be daytime and full speed ahead can happen.

idk if that makes sense but i think it would slay so hard.

my goodbye

OH MY GOD. THIS SONG. IT IS HEARTBREAKING

the callbacks to warrior of the mind takes me by surprise everytime like holy shit she really just said that?? then ody's 'YOU'RE ALONE!'

it's perfect. the pure rage from both of them is just so good.

it's my favourite saga ender. it's so cold and just wow. like athena was in one song before but the EMOTION from both of them is enough to make u wanna cry.

ruthlessness

see one part of my brain is like 'oh that's interesting the villain and hero have conflicting moralities and the hero may become like the villain and he is establishing the hero's thinking as flawed for his purpose.' then the other half of my brain is dead from how much steven rodriguez SLAYS the performance.

the lyrics are great as with all the song. the callback to remember them? chef's kiss. poseidon really sat down with his son and took notes for his villain number lol

but my fav things about it the performance. the poseidon voice is so so so so good. and i'm not saying it in a 'haha i find it hot' way. i mean i do but also, it's just perfect for poseidon. he sounds like if salt could talk and that's a compliment btw. his sass and personality is great too.

'but noooo' i just. i love poseidon's voice so much.

and i am shaking in my boots for get in the water.

there are other ways

i love the route jay went with the plot. this portrayal of circe is so important to me, i love her sm. i read the circe book just before the circe saga - and i liked it overall - but the ending left a horrible taste in my mouth so this was a very welcome change.

it's so well done. our boy ody '🥺my wife🥺'-ing his way out of the situation? perfect. ik it's more complicated but the end of the circe saga is such a good character moment for him.

and CIRCE. CIRCE MY QUEEN ILY.

her sympathising with ody and helping him is great. i love that she gets fleshed into, why she does what she does and when she sees the good in ody. she really is a loving queen and i love her sm.

her vocals - especially at the end - are stunning. i love tayla sindal's voice for circe. like with poseidon, that is the perfect voice for the character.

i really love gigi's animatic of this song and that's just how i imagine it happening. it's actually perfect. my fav song was a tie between this and done for but the animatic made me fall in love with this one.

monster

odysseus gives into the pam pam 🦖🦖

it's my favourite song in epic. i have a LOT of thoughts on it but i actually cannot put them into words.

mutiny

this one is fresh so my thoughts will not be cohesive. the amount of callbacks in this song actually kills me.

i cried at the livestream. exactly at the lyric 'ody we're never gonna get to make it home' i mean.

ODY. ODY not CAPTAIN. I CAN'T END THIS. poor choice of words nm

but i will say i've seen some takes on eurylochus that i definately do not agree with and he's one of my fav characters. i'm sad he's gone, his acting and presence was amazing and underrated in all the other sagas and he's just a great character.

least fav in each saga:

i like all of these songs btw. i don't dislike any song. i don't wanna got into detail cuz for all the answer is just i like the others more.

full speed ahead

polyphemous

storm

wouldn't you like

the underworld

different beast

winner : monster

second place : there are other ways

third place : ruthlessness

my overall least favourite song : polyphemous/different beast. again i like these songs, i just prefer others

[kindheart525]

Do you have any really silly mane six headcanons

Twilight Sparkle once smoked weed during her equivalent of college and to this day is terrified that Celestia will find out (Celestia already knows)

Twilight has very little knowledge of memes and her friends frequently have to explain new slang to her before she causes political scandals (“no Twilight ‘kys’ does not mean ‘keep yourself safe’”)

Much like a real horse, Twilight often falls asleep standing up during her late-night stress & study sessions. Spike has had to wake her up and tell her to go to bed numerous times

Twilight was that kid who reminded her teachers there was homework when they forgot. Her classmates didn’t really like her for that

Her love life is very…active lol, including when she’s in a stable and committed relationship (like active within that relationship not as a serial cheater). She loves learning new techniques if you catch my drift

Fluttershy is surprisingly confident when she’s attracted to someone, and when she’s in a committed relationship she has a lot of fun facts about animal mating patterns to share with them for…no particular reason

Unlike Twilight, Flutters is surprisingly well-versed in memes because she’s learned a lot from Discord (and also Treehugger). She doesn’t really understand the humor in all of them but she’s aware of them

(In a universe where FlutterCord is canon) She had to absolutely fight for her life in the Mane 6 meetups when she told her friends she was dating/crushing on him

Daring Do eventually loses popularity, partly because so many of her books involve actual artifact theft and social attitudes have changed, and partly because ponies just moved on to newer book series. Rainbow Dash still remains her biggest die-hard fan even when she looks pathetic doing so

Rainbow Dash acts like a big baby every time Tank hibernates for the rest of her life (he outlives her) but after the first few years it’s kind of silly

This isn’t an idea I came up with but I really like all the jokes about RD writing really bad fanfiction, and it’s a headcanon I subscribe to

(Mostly a joke because I do ship her with mares outside of my next gens) Rainbow Dash is straight but has a lot of mares asking her out because of her mane, and it’s hard to get stallions because they also think she’s gay. She also has a hard time relating to her friends who all like mares

RD doesn’t take good care of her hooves because she flies all the time and forgets to trim them due to not walking very much. Because of this, they look funky and overgrown and her friends kind of clown on her for it

When she’s older, Rainbow Dash wrecks some of her joints trying to do stunts that she did when she was younger (like carrying her “little” sister). She has the worst midlife crisis out of all her friends

When Rarity was a filly, she used to create the most elaborate and dramatic plotlines with her dolls that easily measured up to any soap opera, with betrayals, love triangles, custody battles, the whole works

She enjoys listening to soul-crushingly sad music (like Marina’s discography) during her ice cream-crying sessions, in the process roleplaying a life much more dysfunctional than she has because it helps her cope with her actual problems. Also listens to that music in a good mood if she needs to be inspired for a certain fashion piece

She overstocks her supplies to a sometimes comical extent, like she has 400 refills for her bedazzler machine. How does she have room for all that stuff? A lady never reveals her secrets, darling✨

Applejack loves singing country songs like “Thank God I’m A Country Colt” and “International Harvester” at the top of her lungs, they literally never fail to get her hyped up

(In a human context, ignoring Equestria Girls) it took her awhile to learn that Apple Bloom had TikTok and other social media accounts because she only uses Facebook on her clunky home computer

AJ is incapable of enjoying any kind of sitcom because she’s always poking holes in the plot. Her least favorite storylines are the “caught in a lie” and general miscommunication tropes

She also can’t watch well-written, dramatic tv shows either if any of the characters behave dishonestly (such as Breaking Bad)

Pinkie and Cheese once performed “Amish Paradise” for her parents and sisters (even in universes where they aren’t a couple). Reactions were VERY mixed

Also some of my “how they explain the birds and the bees to their kids” headcanons for my next gens are pretty funny

Fluttershy is really good at explaining the whole life cycle (including reproduction and death) because taking care of so many animals means she’s seen it all. Nothing squicks her out anymore. She explains things matter-of-factly but gently as she guides her little ones through various examples involving her animals.

Twilight would do a good job and be comfortable with it but she would also go overboard, giving a college-level lecture about the full reproductive process when her 10 year old daughter only wanted to know what going into heat meant. Twi’s partner calls Fluttershy in to help for the kid’s sake.

Rarity buys her daughter the pony equivalent of those Care & Keeping of You books (and her son gets the male equivalent of those books). She uses those books to bond with her kids over “becoming a mare/stallion.”

Applejack is very overprotective of Apple Bloom and probably procrastinated on giving her “the talk” only to find out that AB already learned from the other CMC (especially Scoot “left completely unsupervised 24/7” aloo /hj). A similar deal would probably happen with her own kids as well unless her partner is better about it. Even though, years before, Granny Smith was very straight with AJ like “ya wanna know how our new batch of chicks was made?”

Pinkie isn’t uncomfortable with the talk at all, except her explanation gets so convoluted and off topic that her kids go off to ask someone else.

Rainbow Dash says “go ask your father”

[peri-peri-sauce]

[autiomaa yeehaw troubled soul here again]

first of all tysm for your answer and for always being so sweet and so accepting! <3

idk i think it's a weird mixture of sadness and horniness that i feel. exactly bcs the subject is so heavy, that yeehaw feels almost like an explosion of pent up frustration/ aggression even, which is so sexy to me

also in the mv in that particular moment, idk if you've noticed, i have, there's this extreme close-up where for a split second he stares directly at the camera i'm-

as for my *thoughts*… let's just say they are appropriately themed (slow mo riding under sultry lighting, desert dirt and sweat, leather chaps and cowboy boots and hats -you get it) i also need to see him ride a mechanical bull, IF he could *not* be silly about it

i'm so glad we're both auditory people 🤝🏻 next time maybe we should chat about the aggressive part of s=m, which has in fact ruined me 😭

Hello again dear Anon ☺️

To be honest, I had never really paid attention to that yeehaw in the context of the song, but now that you mention it, I can totally see it as an explosion of pent-up frustration. It's like all that sadness builds up, getting tighter and tighter until it reaches a breaking point and suddenly bursts like a climax (😏)

Even though I love Autiomaa I haven't watched the music video much because it makes me really sad. But I just rewatched that specific part and oh God... He's looking right into my soul, it actually made me nervous and flustered 😳 Okay now I get it... yup, I definitely do...

See? This is why I'm conflicted about this MV!!! It makes me sad but at the same time it kinda turns me on with all those close-ups and the side profiles 😩

I totally agree with your thoughts omg… slow riding in an empty, warm desert, bodies slick with sweat, moans echoing through the open space, plenty of grabbing and leaving dirt marks on each other's bodies... 😵‍💫 The peace is slow, but you can feel the frustration in Jere, how badly he wants to let it out, explode and release all that built-up tension, reaching the climax he's been craving for so long, just like in the song...

Also, you know what they say... Save a horse, ride a cowboy

The other day I saw someone say that Autiomaa is a really good song to fuck to and to be honest I couldn't even argue with that because they were right 🙂

To be fair, I don't think he'd be able to ride a mechanical bull without doing something silly and posting it on TikTok, but hey, one can dream 😔 He would look so hot holding onto the handles of the bull with one hand while using the other to steady himself, trying to find balance so he doesn’t fall… also the way his hips would move... ugh thanks for putting that image in my head 🥵

ALSO OH MY GOD ANON I AM SO READY TO TALK ABOUT SEX = MONEY AS MUCH AS YOU WANT I CAN'T SHUT UP ABOUT HOW HOT THE WHOLE SONG AND CONCEPT ARE! The fast rapping at the start, the "Yeah, argh" before the second verse, the growling voice when he raps the Tein OnlyFans bägin part, KOKO SUOMEN DADDY!!!!! HOLY SHIT I am creaming my pants right now 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

[natsuki-bakery]

⁎˚ ఎ CG! Gyro Zeppeli ໒ ˚⁎

hiii could i request cg headcanons for gyro zeppeli maybe (^｡^) ? Thank you so much i hope you are having a great day !!!!!!!!!!!!! and i enjoy your posts so much they make me so happy!!!

•Gyro, having grown up in a strict family and trained as an executioner, understands the importance of emotional support and comfort. When he realizes that the person he's caring for is regressing, he immediately shifts to a protective and nurturing role, putting aside his usual bravado to make them feel safe

•Travel Adjustments : During your journey across the harsh terrains of the Steel Ball Run, Gyro makes adjustments to your travel plans to ensure you're comfortable. He finds quieter, safer places to rest, avoiding noisy towns or dangerous areas. He prioritizes your well-being, even if it means slowing down your pace

•Gyro is known for his storytelling and often entertains you with tales of his home in Naples or silly, made-up stories to make you smile. He might also sing playful Italian songs to comfort you, using his musical talents to create a soothing atmosphere during moments of anxiety

•Using his resourcefulness, Gyro crafts small toys from bits of wood, rocks, or whatever materials he can find along the way. A small wooden horse or a little spinning top can go a long way in providing you with a sense of comfort and distraction, showing his creativity and thoughtfulness

•CG names : Gigi , Papa Gyro , Horsey , Zio (Uncle in Italian) / Nonno (Grandpa in Italian)

•Gyro takes extra care in setting up their camp, creating a cozy and safe space for you. He uses his coat or blankets to create a tent-like structure that feels like a fort, shielding you from the harsh elements and providing a snug place where you can feel secure

•Gyro occasionally uses his Steel Balls not just as weapons but as tools of comfort. He performs simple tricks, making the Balls spin and dance in the air to distract and entertain you. The rhythmic, controlled movements can have a calming effect, similar to a fidget toy or mobile

•Big Bro Gyro’s usually brash demeanor softens significantly when he’s caring for you. He uses a gentle voice, offering constant reassurances that you're safe with him. If you're scared or overwhelmed, Gyro doesn’t hesitate to remind you that he’s right there and won’t let anything happen to you

•Sharing his rations becomes a moment of connection. Gyro is known to carry simple but hearty foods—he’ll make it fun by turning meals into little games, like "guess the taste" with different flavors or pretending the food is part of an adventure, making every meal a comforting ritual

•Gyro’s protective side is amplified when you're in a vulnerable state. He stays on high alert, always scanning for potential threats, and positions himself between danger and you. His usual cocky demeanor is replaced with a fierce, silent determination to keep you safe at all costs !

•Zeppeli knows that play is important for your comfort. He might engage in simple games, like tossing a ball back and forth or playing pretend. He even teaches them a few basic tricks with the Steel Balls, not for combat but as a way to have fun

•Papa Gyro is perceptive and quick to adapt when you're non-verbal. He pays close attention to body language, facial expressions, and small cues to understand your needs. He uses gestures, like pointing or nodding, to communicate and patiently waits for your responses, never pressuring you to speak. He'll even start learning simple hand signs or make up their own communication methods to ensure you feel understood

•If you wake up scared from a nightmare, Gyro’s first instinct is to pull you close and offer immediate comfort. He’ll tell you in a soft voice that it was just a dream and that you're safe now

•To help calm you, Gyro might hum a soothing melody or tell a lighthearted story until you feel relaxed enough to fall asleep again. If the nightmares persist, he’ll stay up a little longer, keeping watch to reassure you

•When you throw a tantrum, whether from frustration, exhaustion, or fear, Gyro remains remarkably patient. He crouches down to your level, speaks in a calm and steady voice, and doesn’t try to force you to stop crying. Instead, he lets you express your feelings, offering gentle words and open arms when you're ready to be comforted

•Gyro understands that tantrums are just another way of communicating, and he’s always ready to listen, even if it means enduring a few kicks or tears

•If the age regressor falls ill during their journey, Gyro’s protective instincts kick in full force. He’ll do whatever it takes to find medicine, warm blankets, and safe places to rest. He checks their temperature often, ensuring they’re hydrated and as comfortable as possible. Gyro uses whatever skills he has to make basic herbal remedies, and he won’t hesitate to slow down their journey to allow them to recover, telling them it’s okay to take a break

•Reluctant Sleeper : If you resist going to bed, Gyro tries to make the idea of sleep more appealing. He might tell them a "bedtime story" filled with funny or heroic tales, often exaggerating his own adventures to keep them entertained. If that doesn’t work, Gyro gets creative—he might suggest a "sleeping contest" or pretend that their camp is a fortress that needs to be quiet and secure, turning bedtime into a fun game rather than a chore

•Sleepy : Dada finds it endearing when you start getting sleepy, especially when you've try to fight it. He’s quick to offer his lap or shoulder as a pillow, wrapping his coat around you to keep you warm. Gyro hums softly, his voice low and comforting, lulling them to sleep with the gentle sway of his horse or the rhythm of the campfire. He enjoys these moments of calm, feeling a deep sense of responsibility and care

•When you're overwhelmed, Gyro helps you find a quieter spot away from all the chaos. He uses his calming presence, speaking in a low, soothing tone and offering sensory distractions like spinning his Steel Balls slowly or letting you hold onto something comforting like his hat

•Knowing how scary thunderstorms can be, especially on the open trail, Gyro makes sure to stay close during bad weather. He might playfully compare the thunder to horses galloping or say that the sky is "just showing off" trying to make it less intimidating

•if you're really scared, he’ll wrap you in his coat, hold you close, and hum or sing softly until the storm passes, his presence a steady anchor in the chaos

•Zio is supportive of your desire to do things on your own, even when you're in a regressed state. He gently encourages you to try small tasks, like feeding yourself or packing a small bag, offering lots of praise for even the smallest achievements !

•He knows that feeling capable is important, so he’s always ready to help but steps back to let you shine whenever possible

•When they need to pass through busy towns or crowded areas, Gyro is extra vigilant. He keeps a firm but gentle hold on your hand, shielding you from bumping into others or getting lost. Gyro reassures you quietly, pointing out interesting sights to keep you distracted. If the crowd becomes too much, he quickly finds a quieter space where you two can regroup and relax

If you're in the basic criteria , are DSMP fans, vivziep0p fans , h0tel/h3lluva b0ss fans, Owl h0use fans, St4r butterfly fans, Ghibli fans, ddlg/abdl blogs, nsfw/k!nk blogs, anti-agere blogs, or anti Christians/Christianity blogs : just dont interact !

[satureja13]

Jack's Therapy Game Part 3 (From the beginning: -> here)

Lou and Jack are on their way to the Pub. Seems it's in Goldshire, where Vlad already playtested the game. They've been chatting on their way. Lou: "So, where do you live?" Of course Jack can't tell him that he comes from another world and this is just a game. Jack: "Uhm, to be honest, I have no place to stay here." Lou: "Ah don't worry. I'll take care of you." 'Take care'!? This reminds Jack of his Heidi dream nightmare where the Laird aka Kiyoshi 'took good care' of his people! All of them!

But this is just a game, right? He can quit anytime. Lou: "I have a guest room where you can stay. But let's care for the horses first and go to the pub. I'm thirsty and we have to celebrate your win! But remember, no one knows it's us who fought today. We're not Wolfsbane and Moonchild here - we're Lou and Jack. Only Barfolomew and - uhm... only Barfolomew knows." Jack: "Understood."

And so they reached Goldshire in the early evening.

They rode over to the stable where Diablo had stayed earlier. Jack: "Erm - I've heard they eat horses here, will they be safe?" Lou: "Of course they will. That's just one of those silly tales they tell strangers." Jack: "No way! We've been so worried!" Lou chuckled: "They mean no harm. Just don't let them pull your paw. To be honest: we are almost all vegans. No one eats no one here :3 "

Bunny to Valerian: 'This is my meadow! Step back or I will devour you like these lifeless leaves I just brutally ripped out of the ground!' Or not ^^'

Valerian, unimpressed: 'Sure.'

Lou: "I tell you what. You care for the horses and I'll get you your room ready. I'll be back in a minute." Jack: "Ok, thanks!"

Lou is so handsome!

There he goes. Seems Lunatic is not so convinced that the bunnies are of no harm ^^'

To be continued... (To be honest: I have no idea where this is going with Lou but I'm so exited, he's just so awesome.)

'Oh, my name is Jock Stewart I am a canny gun man And a roving young fellow I've been

So be easy and free When you're drinking with me' I'm a man you don't meet every day - The Pogues

Lou Howell is surely a man you don't meet every day. This song is so beautiful.

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest Current Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

Outtakes

The cocky Prince ^^'

One of the no-nonsense Bunny Gang 🐇

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Outta Time

So @littlesmartart and I discovered that we both love Orville Peck, and I decided it might be nice to write Western Cowboy shit that isn't the Brokeback Mountain AU so here's this 😂 Inspired by Orville Peck's song 'Outta Time' from the album Bronco (Jess came up with the plot, I wrote it, and she's drawn art to go along with it for the visual that's directly inspired by the song [and that was all I had in mind for this before she came up with the plot lol]!)

--//--

It was, perhaps, foolishness on Meng Yao’s part to think that Huaisang was telling him nothing but the unvarnished truth when he’d invited him to head out West with him for a luxury vacation, set to last the entirety of their summer break.

“It’ll be like one of those fancy retreats silly rich people go on!” he’d insisted (as if he isn’t mind-bogglingly ridiculous and wealthier than Meng Yao could ever hope of being [considering he’s only just recently been forced to accept he’ll never see a single iota of his father’s support, emotionally or financially]). “Trust me!”

Mistake number 1 had been saying, “Alright A-Sang, I trust you.”

Mistake number 2 : being a man of his word.

Within a month of receiving Huaisang’s invitation, summer arrives with rolling peals of thunder heralding oppressive humidity and swarms of mosquitos. Meng Yao, a man of his word as stated, dutifully packs most of his belongings into a suitcase that weighs far less than the upper limit of the airline’s luggage weight restriction and navigates the pair of them through the airport with minimal stress, mainly thanks to not allowing Huaisang to be in charge of anything at all.

He chats with Huaisang on and off throughout their flight to keep himself distracted from the fact that he’s leaving behind everything he’s ever known to spend three months in the middle of bumfuck nowhere at his only friend’s brother's ranch, which Huaisang had only told him the full truth about yesterday, after it was already far too late to gracefully back out. Meng Yao’s promised luxury vacation destination is apparently in actuality a cattle ranch that Huaisang’s brother apparently runs mostly to keep himself in shape and avoid the stress of city life that had given him a heart attack at the ripe old age of 27 a few years back. (It is, by far, the weirdest ‘so I have this older brother’ story that Meng Yao has ever heard.)

“So this brother of yours –” Meng Yao finally caves and asks about an hour before final descent.

“Uh-huh?”

“He just…up and left New York. For Montana?”

“Yep,” Huaisang pops the ‘p’ and flicks to the next page in his magazine, unbothered, “After his heart attack he said he wanted to see some mountains and get some actual fresh air if he was just going to die soon anyway, it really dramatic and maudlin, which he never is, I was so proud. Only it turns out it was exactly what he needed to not die, so after a while he decided he would just stay out there for good. He bought the house and the land and some horses to give himself something to do besides stare at the sky all day, and then he was still kind of bored so he bought some cattle.”

Naturally. As one does.

“And now he’s…a cattle rancher. From New York City.”

Huaisang laughs and finally looks up from his magazine to smile at Meng Yao like ‘oh you sweet little thing’ in the way Meng Yao kind of hates, but Huaisang does it to everyone so he can’t really take too much offense.

“Yes, Yaoyao, you’ll understand when you meet him! Da-ge’s never really been a city guy, not like us. It suits him much better to be out here, especially since his best friend moved out here to help him out. Xichen-ge treats it like a meditation retreat but with a lot more mucking out stalls. He says even that part’s therapeutic, but I’m just going to take his word on that one, ‘cause ew.”

“Uh-huh.”

Huaisang leaves him to consider just what the hell he’s gotten himself into for the rest of the flight, and then they’re navigating their way (ridiculously easily) through the rinky-dink airport hardly bigger than a parking garage, the sky beyond the terminal windows blue blue blue where it stretches on forever in every direction.

“Da-ge!”

Meng Yao barely manages to snag Huaisang’s duffel when his friend flings it off his shoulder to go sprinting across the 3-carousel baggage claim, the fastest Meng Yao has ever seen him move. It’s a distinct relief that Meng Yao can use juggling their bags as an excuse to approach at a much more respectable pace; he needs the extra time to truly digest what he’s seeing.

Huaisang, as a former-model-turned-fasion-designer who happily calls himself a fruit at every opportunity, is one of the daintiest men Meng Yao has ever met. He’d even go so far as to call him a dandy, if pressed, and fully supports his friend’s decision to call himself every ‘emasculating’ label under the sun with obvious relish. He can’t deny that at least some of his confusion as to his best friend’s mysterious older brother’s chosen lifestyle stemmed from picturing someone like Huaisang, if perhaps a little taller.

He’s not confused anymore.

The man who catches Huaisang midair and swings him in a circle before setting him back on his feet would never be asked to grace the runways of New York — not because he isn’t beautiful enough to make Meng Yao’s fingers twitch for his camera to capture the way the sun cuts across his weather-tanned face, but because no one has ever heard of a fashion model who was roughly 6’7” and perhaps 300 pounds of solid, clearly functional muscle.

Huaisang’s brother towers over everyone else in the building that Meng Yao can see (and he can see most of them, re: rinky-dink airport in the middle of bumfuck Montana), and when he looks over the heads of the few people between Meng Yao and the exit their eyes lock instantly.

“A-Sang, be nicer to your friend,” Meng Yao can hear from here, a bass rumble that Does Things to his chest. “Go get your bag, don’t make your guest carry your shit or he’ll think I never taught you decent manners. Go on.”

Huaisang flutters back over and takes his bag with an unapologetic grin. Meng Yao finishes taking the ten-odd steps necessary for the brother to stick his hand out with a wry little smirk and say, “Hey, I’m Mingjue.”

“Meng Yao,” he replies and slides his hand into Mingjue’s dry, work-calloused palm.

“Welcome to big sky country, A-Yao,” Mingjue replies with a widening smile, a flash of straight white teeth and a dimple hiding under his mustache, and Meng Yao regrets to say that he’s thoroughly fucked.

–//–

The land unfolds around them as they drive down straight roads at an almost leisurely pace through miles and miles of…nothing.

Not nothing, Meng Yao supposes, but long gone are the corridors of towering skyscrapers, the lingering miasma of so many people living together in tight quarters, everyone building up up up to stack ever-more people into the same few square miles. Meng Yao understands, suddenly, why Mingjue had come here and stayed. He doesn’t think he has it in him to eschew all the conveniences of New York City for the open country, but someone like Mingjue seems like the type to appreciate having the space to…expand. To be bigger than life and have the room to do it in. He certainly feels larger than life at the moment as he details for Huaisang all the comings and goings on the ranch since he’d last visited, as he talks about the horses and his cattle and the monsoon rains they’d apparently only just missed that had finally turned everything summer-green.

Meng Yao sits on the bench seat of Mingjue’s beat up old pickup truck and watches the sparse scattering of fluffy white clouds drift over more sky than he’s ever seen in his life and he gets it.

He hasn’t gotten nearly enough of his fill of marveling (subtly) over the view by the time they pull off the road onto a dirt road that Huaisang tells him is actually Mingjue’s driveway, but he contents himself with the knowledge that they’re here for three months, he’ll have plenty of time to appreciate the view later. They rattle over a few metal grates Mingjue explains are cattle guards to keep the animals from escaping the ranch should they manage to break out of their pastures, and Meng Yao isn’t a child so he doesn’t exclaim about how fucking huge the cattle are some distance away from the road where they’re grazing (but he certainly rethinks his half-baked desire to see them up close anytime soon).

“Home sweet home,” Mingjue announces when they reach the end of the lane after another mile or two and opens his door with a creak. Meng Yao leans forward to look up at the house through his lashes and must not be able to control his expression as much as he’d prefer as Huaisang chuckles at him a little, nudging him in the side with his pointy little elbow.

“Told you it was nice,” he chirps and slides across the seat to get out on the driver’s side. “Da-ge be careful!” he trills, his nervous fretting muffled as he scurries around to the bed of the truck. Meng Yao doesn’t pay attention to their bickering or the scuffle of hard-soled boots on dirt, though his attention is snagged at least a bit by the sound of Mingjue laughing at whatever he’s just done to make Huaisang whine at him.

The house is beautiful, is the thing. Somehow he hadn’t thought that it would be, perhaps owing to how many times he’s listened to Huaisang complain about his brother’s lack of taste for anything even remotely fashionable. He should really stop assuming things about Mingjue, he supposes, considering he’s currently scored 0 for 2, and he hates to lose.

He gets out of the car, finally, to better appreciate white-washed wood paneling just beginning to show hints of weathering, blue shutters clearly freshly painted the same shade of the sky overhead with the front door painted to match. There are rocking chairs on the wraparound porch, clearly well-loved if the flattened, sun-faded cushions on them are anything to judge by, positioned to face west. He has a sudden mental image of Mingjue sitting out here in the evenings to watch the sunset over the mountains looming in the distance and has to shake himself all over once (discreetly) to keep from sticking himself in the chair next to him in this little pastoral fantasy. That’s just making it weird.

“You want the grand tour or you wanna settle in?” Mingjue asks; Meng Yao doesn’t jump to find himself standing next to his host he hadn’t heard approaching, but he does feel suddenly…shy in a way he’s definitely not used to. He tilts his head enough to squint up at Mingjue, the sun too bright in his eyes, and finds to his dismay that he’s still just as handsome as he’d been an hour ago.

“I want you to give him the tour!” Huaisang calls from where he’s petting a horse (an actual horse, but are they supposed to be that tall??) that’s come up to the fence at the other end of the front yard, such as it is, to duck down and nose at Huaisang like an old friend.

“I don’t care what you want, you little brat,” Mingjue calls back. “And don’t you dare give that beast whatever candy you’ve got in your pockets, do you know how long it took to train him out of biting people who didn’t give him any after you left?!”

Meng Yao hides a smile behind his hand and finds himself mostly glad that there’s someone else around now to be the recipient of Huaisang’s incessant whining when he’s really putting on a performance. He clears his throat a little and schools his expression back towards pleasant neutrality when Mingjue looks down at him again, clearly unwilling to entertain his brother’s antics a moment longer than necessary.

“I think I’d like to settle in first,” he allows himself to say, and is perhaps mildly startled when Mingjue doesn’t question it, when he simply nods and lets Meng Yao be that tiny bit selfish.

“Come on in then, your room’s upstairs.”

Meng Yao follows Mingjue inside out of the sun and finds himself surrounded by an eclectic mix of antiques and modern minimalism; framed photos and bric-a-brac piled up in out-of-the-way corners of sleek monochrome shelves hemmed in on every side by enormous, dense furniture of the sort that reminds him of a time at least half a century ago, if not longer. The result is antiquated in a charming way with enough touches of modernity that he doesn’t think Mingjue is necessarily out of touch, just pragmatic about his home. If something old will still do, why replace it? It’s a mentality Meng Yao can appreciate, and he finds himself smiling a little again as he trails behind Mingjue up the stairs and down the short hallway to the room in the back corner.

“Here you go,” Mingjue says and slings both Meng Yao’s and Huaisang’s bags off his shoulder, which is precisely when Meng Yao realizes he’d been carrying their luggage in one hand like it weighs nothing. He notices it, allows himself two seconds to admire it, and promptly tucks that little tidbit away for future consideration. Later.

“I’ll be around, just holler if you need anything. I’m sure A-Sang will be in to bother you once he’s finished saying hi to the herd, I’ll let you enjoy the quiet while you’ve got it.”

“Thanks, Mingjue,” Meng Yao says with a smile, and it might be a moment of wishful thinking, or just his imagination, but he swears he sees Mingjue’s gaze drop to his mouth for a beat too long before the man nods and retreats. Meng Yao has no way to know if the flush on the back of Mingjue’s neck is from the sun or, maybe, something else.

–//–

Huaisang does come inside eventually, and though he has his own unpacking to do Meng Yao isn’t surprised at all when his friend comes to his room first to flop onto his bed and promptly make himself at home to start bugging him.

(He wouldn’t want or expect anything different.)

As Meng Yao hangs up shirts and trousers with far more care than they probably need, Huaisang regales him with stories from other trips to the ranch and a quick run-down of the personalities of the horses Mingjue keeps, both his own and some he boards for others who can’t keep their own animals for whatever reason. Meng Yao makes enough leading, noncommittal noises to keep his friend chattering as he settles in, though the chatter becomes decidedly less pleasant as far as background noise goes when Huaisang starts talking about getting Meng Yao to socialize.

Within moments it’s clear he already has a plan on how to do so, because of course he does, and of course it’s some stranger’s houseparty where Meng Yao will know absolutely no one at all.

“Absolutely not, Huaisang,” he says tartly, but of course Huaisang only takes that as an invitation to persuade him.

“This isn’t like parties back home, A-Yao, I promise!” he wheedles. Meng Yao just goes on unpacking his meager belongings into the antique dresser in the corner of his room that holds a window overlooking the equipment-littered space between the back porch and the horse barn, and he very pointedly does not rise to Huaisang’s bait. He’s still not immune to his best friend’s cajoling and they both know it, but he feels the need to deny him a little longer for the sake of his pride, if nothing else.

“Nothing here is like home, Huaisang, your argument is invalid,” he replies blithely and debates the merit of hanging his undershirts in the too-big closet with the rest of his clothes, rather than folding them up into a too-big drawer where they’ll just look sad on their own.

“Okay point taken, but seriously! You’ll have a nice time, it’ll be chill, I swear. Xichen-ge is coming, and he never goes anywhere things will get out of hand!”

A party tempting enough to interest Huaisang is typically guaranteed to be anything but ‘chill’, he doesn’t point out, but…well. Meng Yao had just said it himself — nothing here so far is like what they’ve come from, maybe Huaisang’s different here too. Maybe a party’s really not such a bad idea. And if it is, Mingjue, having already overheard Huaisang mentioning the party on his way past Meng Yao’s room with a load of clean laundry in his arms, has already made it very clear that he’s happy to either loan them his truck for the night or else drive them himself. Considering Meng Yao has no interest in drinking so much he wouldn’t be able to drive (because he, unlike his best friend, is a very functional city gay who can drive, thank you very much) it’s a guaranteed exit strategy, should he feel the need to escape.

Meng Yao ignores Huaisang’s pleading eyes for a few moments longer simply for the fun of it as he slides his undershirts onto clattering plastic hangers, and only smiles once his back is turned as Huaisang shouts his delight when Meng Yao sighs, “Well…I guess I’ve got nowhere better to go.”

–//–

This time, Huaisang did tell him the unvarnished truth.

It’s clear from the moment they pull up in the warm violet twilight that this party is nothing like the ones they frequent back home. It’s in someone’s actual house, for one, which he supposes isn’t too strange when not being hosted in a city made entirely of apartments and highrises, but the house itself is in the middle of a giant patch of…nothing. It’s just a house on a dirt lot full of pickup trucks in various stages of rusting, with lights strung everywhere possible on the wraparound porch (except that it’s not really a porch so much as it is a prefabricated metal roof over part of the patch of dirt and sparse grass ‘yard’). He’s pretty sure he even sees a barn lit up the same way some few hundred feet behind the house, but he can’t get a good look at it from here and decides to put it out of his mind.

“Let me know if you end up needing the truck,” Mingjue says over the sound of twanging guitar coming from someone’s massive speakers as they hop down (well he steps down out of the truck like he’s just crossing a threshold; Meng Yao and Huaisang are too vertically challenged to get down out of the thing without at least a little hop). “I’m gonna head in to grab a beer, you two want anything?”

“We’re good, da-ge!” Huaisang chirps, already eyeing up a cluster of guys all dressed nearly identically in tight jeans and threadbare flannels with the sleeves cut off and the resulting gaping holes fraying artlessly, with the main differentiating factor between them being if they’re wearing cowboy hats or baseball caps. Meng Yao glances between his options — Huaisang’s all-too-familiar thirsting over extremely lackluster men who don’t deserve him and Mingjue’s retreating figure carving a path through the crowd — and decides to take his chances with the latter, though he hangs back a little to give Mingjue space.

The house, when he steps inside, at least smells pretty much like what he’s used to at parties. Too many competing colognes and perfumes, the sticky sweetness of alcohol, and the haze of cigarette smoke are almost comforting like this, even as he promptly gets lost amongst the sprawling, dimly-lit rooms crowded with strangers nursing beers or chatting (read: feeling) each other up in dim corners. He finds a staircase in the middle of the house and uses it to orient himself as he wanders in several clockwise circles until he’s mapped out the living room, the den, the kitchen where he snags a beer from the 6’5” cowboy (he’s assuming he’s a cowboy based on the hat and the whole ‘house party on a farm in Montana’ thing) standing at the keg, the door to the back ‘porch’ that’s about as porch-like as the one out front, and an overcrowded room that seems to serve no purpose but to be a place to play beer pong.

He’s just circled his way back to the front door near the stairs once again when he finds his path blocked by someone turned away from him; someone broad and tall and wearing pale blue, which just seems like a mistake when any moment could end in spilled beer and flustered mopping up with a crumpled handful of napkins, perhaps even the removal of said shirt to get it in the upstairs bathroom sink to soak out the stain before it sets —

Alright so it’s been a while and a man has needs, especially when surrounded by ridiculously tall beefcakes on every side. Sue him.

Rather than spilling his shitty beer on this guy to see if he can get him to take his shirt off, Meng Yao clears his throat and taps the guy on his waist once, just the lightest touch of two fingers to body-warmed cotton, and the guy turns smoothly, an apology already on his lips.

“Oh, excuse me,” he says, hardly audible over the music jangling from the beer pong room. Meng Yao tilts his head back a bit — and then a bit more — to meet the guy’s gaze and he’s startled to find he’s also Asian. It takes him roughly three seconds to put two-and-two together when the guy smiles at him like he knows him and ducks down to talk a little closer. Meng Yao makes a conscious decision to stay very still to let him do it.

“Might you be Meng Yao?” he asks and Meng Yao can only nod dumbly. “Mingjue sent me to find you, would you like to come sit with us? Da-ge’s great for commandeering the couch at these things.”

Sitting down sounds great, Meng Yao thinks, especially when the crowd shifts enough for him to catch sight of the ratty old sofa in the living room to find Mingjue currently occupying it alone, manspread more than far enough to make it clear that no one else is sitting on that couch unless he invites them (and he doesn’t look like he’s in a particularly inviting mood).

“Are you sure?” Meng Yao asks, wary, but the man (who must be Mingjue’s best friend, Xichen) just smiles at him again and tips his head in that direction, gesturing vaguely with one of his bottles of beer as if for emphasis.

“Of course! Come on, you’ve had a long day of traveling and I wanted to apologize for not being able to meet you at the house this afternoon. Just sit with us for a while, we’ll introduce you around later if you want us to.”

Meng Yao finds it a pretty tough proposition to say no to so he just nods again and gestures with his own beer (in a stereotypical red Solo cup he’d been amused to receive) for Xichen to lead the way. It isn’t so far that Meng Yao worries about losing him in the crowd, really, but he doesn’t let that stop him from hooking an index finger through the center back belt loop on Xichen’s skin-tight jeans, ‘just in case’.  Xichen simply smiles at him over his shoulder as they pass through the nearly-black front hallway and into the scarcely-brighter living room, red Christmas lights around the ceiling and the overhead bulb in the kitchen through the other doorway the only lighting for the entire room.

“Hey, there you are,” Mingjue says as they approach, and though he swings one knee closer to straight in front of himself to manspread a little less he leaves his arm slung casually along the top of the back cushions, reaching up with his free hand to snag the beer Xichen had brought for him and taking a swig of it as Xichen joins him.

On the opposite end of the couch.

Meng Yao hides behind a sip of his own flat beer quickly warming to room temperature as he contemplates the small (small) space between them and, between one disappointing sip and the next, decides he’s feeling reckless enough after a long day of new things and the freedom of traveling so many miles from home that he’s just going to go for it, and fuck the consequences.

Xichen slings his arm over the rest of the back of the couch, fingertips brushing lightly against Mingjue’s elbow where they overlap. Meng Yao sits down right in between them, settles in, and pointedly ignores the way the tired old couch springs squeak in protest of their combined weight and how he seems to pull the other two in like a magnet. It’s like gravity, centers of balance shifting and leaning inwards into his orbit, the pair of them bracketing him on either side, parentheses made of denim and muscle and smiling mouths that he pretends not to notice creeping closer as they keep finding excuses to lean in closer over the course of the next few minutes, not at all subtle. They drift in, in, in to talk to him over the music until they’re both practically kissing him on the cheeks just to be heard as they chat about nothing much at all.

Meng Yao finishes his beer and lets Xichen take the empty cup from him to set aside, and when he leans back in even closer than a moment before, Meng Yao offers him a coy little smile of the sort that’s weakened tougher men than Xichen seems to be and drops his newly-freed hand on his knee, mirroring the caress on Mingjue’s knee with his free hand on the other side.

It would be more than accurate to say that Xichen melts like butter — melts so obviously, in fact, that Mingjue laughs at him, hides it in Meng Yao’s shoulder, and seems to need no further excuse to just set up camp there so he can start nuzzling the tip of his nose into the crook of Meng Yao’s neck until he’s shivering pleasantly and feeling very much like the cat that got the cream.

Huaisang was right — this has never happened to him in New York, but he’s perfectly happy that it’s happening to him now.

–//–

Nie Huaisang isn’t the type to say ‘I told you so’ in so many words, mostly because he doesn’t actually say what he’s really thinking in the first place.

But if he were the type, he’d be saying it right now to anyone who would listen as he sips at a beer some jumped-up bull rider pressed into his hand with enough flustered used-to-be-definitely-absolutely-straight-but-now-he’s-confused flirting that Huaisang had given him an extra kiss or three to apologize for giving him a little sexuality crisis.

Maybe it’s weird for him to be so pleased to see his brother and his brother’s live-in-something tag teaming Huaisang’s own best friend, but, well. Meng Yao works way too hard for very little in return, and Huaisang thinks he deserves nice things. He’s certainly not immune to the ample charms of his brother’s farmer/rancher neighbors at least for a hazy summer, and he’d known that Meng Yao wouldn’t be able to resist either no matter how many fuck-off-I’m-totally-independent vibes he gives off when they’re back home.

Naturally if Meng Yao weren’t interested in sex Huaisang would leave him alone about it, but since he’s not he’d known perfectly well that there would be no resisting not one but two handsome men who could throw him over their shoulders as easily as they do bales of hay or sheep that need shearing. So, to that effect — the scene in front of him. Huaisang watches just long enough to see Xichen turn Meng Yao’s face to his with a gentle finger under his chin to coax him in for a kiss where they’re snuggled up all three together on the couch and then makes his escape to find his own fun for the night.

It’s already looking like it’s going to be quite the summer, and Huaisang basks in the pleasure of a plan well-executed with no one the wiser.

[tenderlady]

thank you to @planetaire for tagging me in something silly to do after presenting at work and turning my brain into soup <3

last song: i'm so tired. because......i am..........

last book: currently reading want, edited by gillian anderson, but i'm still on the introduction

last movie: is get back a movie? because i made my bestie watch part 1 with me over the weekend. otherwise heretic lol. love watching hugh grant torture those little mormon girls.

last tv show: 30 rock 🤡

sweet/spicy/savory: spicy!!!! (also where is the love for my main squeeze, salty?? in a previous life i was one of those horses that lick salt blocks in the summer to stave off dehydration)

relationship status: what do you think lmao

last thing i googled: powerpoint slide loop browser troubleshooting for said work presentation

current obsession: post-election despair forced me to crack the embargo on transcribing my manuscript, so that has been monopolizing all my thoughts lately. (for good and evil, unfortunately)

looking forward to: the week off i have from work for thanksgiving ;_____;

tagging @crepesuzette2023 @eveepe @dumbcloud <3

[toiletpotato]

on one hand I think "yes add more nods to the 1939 film that's so fun I love the 1939 movie and it's the most recognizable one to the general public" but on the other hand I think "maybe don't add too many references to the 1939 film because if you give any critical thought to it, the plot of the two works together just barely line up and sense begins to unravel if you give it the smallest bit of thought: the entire movie takes place in the span of four songs in act 2"

for example:

No One Mourns the Wicked

Dear Old Shiz

The Wizard and I

What is This Feeling

Something Bad

Dancing Through Life

Popular

I'm Not That Girl

One Short Day

A Sentimental Man

Defying Gravity

Thank Goodness

The Wicked Witch of the East

Wonderful

I'm Not That Girl (reprise)

As Long As You're Mine

-> Dorothy's house lands in Munchkinland

-> Come Out, Come Out Wherever You Are

-> Dorothy meets Glinda AND the Wicked Witch of the West; receives Ruby Slippers- I'll get you my pretty and your little dog too

Catfight scene

No Good Deed

-> Dorothy meets the Scarecrow

-> If I Only Had a Brain

-> We're Off to See the Wizard

March of the Witch Hunters

-> Dorothy and the Scarecrow pick apples

-> Dorothy meets the Tin Man

-> If I Only Had a Heart

-> The Wicked Witch of the West appears on top of the farmhouse and threatens them

-> We're Off to See the Wizard

-> Dorothy meets the Lion

-> If I Only Had the Nerve

-> We're Off to See the Wizard

-> Poppy scene

-> Arrive in the Emerald City

-> Horse of a Different Color

-> Surrender Dorothy

-> King of the Forest

-> Meet the Wizard

-> Go to the Haunted Forest

-> Dorothy gets captured

For Good

-> The friends save Dorothy

-> The Witch lights the Scarecrow on fire

-> The Witch gets melted

-> Dorothy and friends go back to the Emerald City

-> They receive their gifts

Glinda tells the Wizard to leave and Morrible to prison

-> The Scarecrow, Lion, and Tin Man are put in charge of the Emerald City in the Wizard's absence

-> The Wizard's balloon floats away

-> Glinda returns, click your heels 3×

-> Back to Kansas

Finale begins

The Scarecrow shows up in Kiamo Ko

Opens trapdoor

Says they can never return to Oz

Glinda thinks her friends are dead

End of Finale

End of show

--

Idk what I'm trying to say with all this- don't get it wrong I LOVE both properties dearly. It's just funny when one is framed as a prequel when that only applies to act 1 since the entire thing takes place in the background of act 2. All three (book/movie/musical) entities are very unique in their own special ways! It's fun to look at it closely and realize some little silly bits about it though :3