#and I forgot my tag for references that I want to use for my book

[hrryshoney]

you’re asking me my symptoms, doctor

A/N: hii here’s beloved gyno!au. title is reference to Escapism by Raye lol. i’ll put warnings but def don’t read if this is gonna make u uncomfy. anyways this really came to me in a prophetic vision (slut hour daydreams) so i hope u enjoy and it lives up to expectations? and Shouts to everyone who i bounced ideas w and talked abt this Man w! ty ily mwah mwah

warnings: smut 18+, fingering, inappropriate actions in a doctors office, a bit of corruption maybe hmm idk, degradation, praise, taboo topics/power imbalance (doctor/patient), use of Y/N, dom and sub dynamics, problematic age gap maybe (reader is 22/23, matty is 29/30), dirty talk, etc..

You were sitting nervously on the exam table, leg bouncing up and down. Doctor’s offices always unnerved you, to say the least. The unnatural fluorescent lights with their buzzing, the cold chill, and sterile smell.

Today, though, you had to book your gynecologist appointment. Now, you’ve been to one gyno before, a woman whose practice was nice and small before you moved cities. Going into your third year of University, you wanted a change in scenery. Now, your gyno would be a man.

A kind woman with dark hair had just come into your room after knocking twice, giving you a hospital gown and a warm smile. Telling you to undress to your underwear and bra. That you should, “Sit tight! The doctor will be in soon.”

So, here you were. On the examination bed, awaiting your doctor eagerly. When you heard a similar knock on the door, but an imperceptibly firmer one, your head shot up. “Come in,” you cleared your throat and called out.

When the handle turned and your aforementioned Doctor walked in, you felt deceived. Deceived in the best way, though, because your Doctor was hot.

He was wearing a white coat, one with a silver tag that read MATTY, his medical badges hanging from the plate. With his glasses and the lightest dusting of gray through his black, curly hair. He couldn’t have been younger than his late 20s, if older than his early 30s. And as he reached out to grab the clipboard off the counter, you were able to see the smallest bit of black ink on his wrist.

He looked down at his documents, squinting slightly. He then set it back on the counter, walking about the room and getting some hand sanitizer from the dispenser. Your eyes are drawn to his hands immediately. When he clears his throat, you come to.

“Good afternoon, love. Y/N, correct? I see it says here you’ve only been to the gynecologist once before, and it was a female doctor,” you nod along to his words, watching him take a seat and hold eye contact with you. “Just wanted to let you know, you shouldn’t be worried. Just typical stuff today, alright?” You nod again, feeling smaller now. Even when he’s sat on his stool, he feels bigger than you.

“Gonna need your words, Y/N.” You can’t tell if he’s joking, even if you see the smirk on his face. Shifting in your seat, your gown ruffling below you, you manage a, “Yes, Doctor.” Through your dry mouth.

“Ah, almost forgot to introduce myself properly.” He laughs, but you swore you saw his eyes darken for a swift second. “I’m Doctor Healy, but you can call me Matty if you feel so inclined.” He grinned, and you felt like his words had a double meaning past the surface.

“You’re here for a routine checkup, I take it?” Moving over to the sink, pumping soap on his hands and running the water. “Lay back for me.” He instructed you as he washed, back turned. You listened without second thought, body going stiff.

You heard the tap turn off, Matty was drying his hands with paper towel now. He walked over to the table, standing above you and looking down. “If you don’t mind, can I ask you some questions before we begin?”

You began to nod, but remembered your reaction from earlier. Giving him another “Yes, Doctor.” he smiled easily. “Great… Now, are you sexually active?”

If you thought you were tense before, then you were like a board now. “Um, no.” You let your eyes flutter shut as you felt your skin heating, feeling terribly bare.

“Right, have you been? In the past?” was this a normal question to ask? Of course, they’d want to know of your bodily health. But of your… sexual activity as well? For you, though, there was nothing to report. Seeing as you were a virgin, which meant no sexual experiences other than yourself.

“Um, sorry, what are these questions for?” You couldn’t stop yourself from nervously laughing, your deflection of an answer hanging in the examination room.

Matty’s eyes dragged along your frame, going from your lips and then back to your eyes. You almost missed the beginning of his sentence when he spoke up. “All protocol, of course. It’s slightly awkward, but I’m obligated to ask. So?”

“So, no. I.. have not been in the past, or like, ever.” And you wanted to melt into the floor. Surely you would have to switch doctors after this again. Too embarrassing of a feat to face.

Another look and pause that goes on for much too long. Your stomach was starting to hurt. Well, maybe not hurt, but you needed to fix it and quick. When Matty claps and rubs his hands together, it snaps you out of it. “Interesting. Well, then, let’s begin.”

You noted that his pupils were huge behind the glasses, and his black slacks hugged his crotch very well. Did they look like that when he came in? You shifted again, trying to rub your thighs for some friction.

“Can I touch you?” His accented voice was deep and gravelly now. Leaving not much to the imagination of how this phrase might sound in a different situation coming from his mouth. His mouth, pink lips that he couldn’t stop licking, and slight stubble on his chin.

“Yes, Doctor Healy.” Your voice sounded submissive enough, and you almost yelped when his hand came down to grab your gown covered thigh. Roughly drawing circles with his thumbs into the spot. “Good girl. You’re tense.”

You shivered, eyes closing and opening again. The silence in the room felt so loud, and your doctor’s appointment was feeling a bit too erotic for what it was at this point. “I- I don’t know why I am.” Lie.

“Need you to relax for me, sweetheart.” His cold hands rub up and down your thighs. He’s making eye contact with you, causing you to cast your eyes to the ceiling. “Wanna put your legs in the stirrups?”

“Would that help, Doctor Healy?” You hear the sharp inhale of breath, followed by a cough. Trying not to lift your hips off the examination table from his constant skin to skin contact.

“It would, thank you.” He moves to grab your legs, setting them on the edge of the platform. His grip feels rougher than acceptable, fingertips leaving indents on your thighs. He reaches under your gown, looking at you for your nod and slipping your panties off. “May I start?”

“Yes, Doctor. Thank you.” And when you feel his fingers run down your slit, you don’t think it’s protocol. You were already embarrassingly wet from the interaction. As his hands move and brush your clit, you can’t hold back the moan. When you open your eyes, you’re met with Matty peering at you over his glasses, an amused smirk barely peeking through his expression.

“Oh, that’s no good, sweetheart.” He clicks his tongue, faux disapprovingly. His thumb comes back to press on your clit. “You’re so wet. What’s that from, huh?” He took his middle and ring finger, circling around your hole.

“It’s- You! You’re doing it, it’s your fault.” You cry out in pleasure and frustration. He was so condescending, but it felt so good. You know you needed to be more conscious of your volume, still being in a doctor’s office.

“My fault?” He almost gasped in surprise, “Oh, no. I don’t think so. I’m just trying to do my job, make sure everything’s okay down here.” Maneuvering his hand, he gave you two quick but firm taps on your clit with his middle and index finger. “Can you remove your gown for me?”

“Is this protocol, Doctor Healy?” You asked, half genuinely curious to see his answer. Moving to lift your bum, untying the gown from behind your back. Your legs were slightly shaking, and you saw his hand go to cover the smile that graced his mouth. You moved both your shoulders out of the arm holes, discarding the gown to the side. Leaving you in just your simple black bra, that had simple lace trimming.

“‘Course, making sure you’re in shape, and all.” His eyes dragged down your frame, stopping at your breasts. He was taking in your figure now, so you had the time to do the same. Your eyes immediately pulled to the now prominent bulge in his pants, and his fingers that seemed to twitch in anticipation.

“Do I appear to be in shape, then? Good for you?” Unbeknownst to you, what you had just said lit even more of a flame inside of Matty. You were asking him if you were good for him? He could show you what a good little slut he could make you.

He lets his hands rest between the apex of your thighs again, “Gonna spread you open a bit, okay? Think this’ll loosen you up for me.” Matty’s long fingers make their way to your cunt, running them up and down. He slides them down to your hole, collecting the wetness there and spreading it up to your clit.

His other hand came up to unclip your bra from behind your back. He did this expertly with one hand, leaving it to fall so he could grab at your breast. Palming at it for a while before pinching your nipple. You let out a whimper, and he gave you a soft slap on the side of your chest. He grabbed it roughly again, evening it out and applying more pressure to your clit as he did.

Your hand came to cover your mouth, not wanting to let your moans out. A soft, “Doctor,” fell from your lips, causing him to slip one finger inside of you. You couldn’t hold back, then. “Please, yes!”

Matty is running the tip his finger lightly along the inside of you, and it’s not enough. You begin to whine, but he cuts it off quickly. “Gotta relax or I won’t be able to run my tests. You don’t want that, do you?” His smirk is enough to make you want to slap it off him. Though, your whole body goes slack when he pushes his whole finger inside of you.

You’re moaning freely now, seeming to have forgotten that you’re still in a professional establishment. You were relentless, the pleasure he was giving you was too much in the best way. “Doctor- Matty. Please, need it.”

Matt’s pupils dilated, if it was possible for them to get larger. “Say my name again for me.” He groaned out, rocking his hips into the side of the table to relieve some tension. “Matty. Matty! Need you, please.” You obliged easily, drunken off the feeling. Matty pressed a second finger into your pussy.

“Poor thing. Never had anyone in this little hole before, huh? Perfect little cunt is so tight for me, were you saving yourself?” You think your reactions have gotten to his head, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your head was nodding in response to his words, eyes rolling back to your head.

You could feel pressure building in your stomach, the sound of his voice was getting to you. “Mhm. Doctor, think I’m gonna cum. Please, can I?” His hand sped up after hearing your words, thumb pressing on your clit. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs, on to the protective cover of the exam table.

Your hips began to lift off the surface again, before Matty’s unoccupied hand came to press down on your abdomen again. “Feels that good, darling? Can’t even stay still for me.” You opened your eyes to look at him, gaze falling to how his hand lifted off of you and went to palm himself. “Come on, be my good little slut and cum for me.”

Ultimately, that was what did you in. You gasped loud enough for the whole office to hear, eyes clamping shut. You saw white behind your eyelids and your hips lifted freely off the table this time. Matty’s fingers coming out of you, rubbing your clit through your orgasm. You heard Matty moan in the back, making out a “fuck me, that’s good. You’re beautiful,” coming from his mouth.

As you came down from it, you opened your eyes to see him licking both of his fingers. “Taste sweet, gonna have to get my mouth on you next time.” He said nonchalantly, still looking down at your pussy. You tried to take your hands and put them in front of it, feeling shy all the sudden.

“Little late for that after I made you cum.” He giggled, going to get a towel from the cabinet above the sink. “Lemme clean you up.” You flustered but agreed in the end. When he came back with the towel, he leaned down to kiss you. You reciprocated easily, jumping when the towel came in contact with your skin.

“Thank you for.. that. For the appointment, Doctor.” You giggled, his head snapping up and eyes narrowing. You raised your hands in faux defence, the smile staying on your face. He smiled with you.

“Came so nicely for me, think I should be the one saying thanks.” He gave you another smirk, getting your panties from the side when they had been discarded. He tapped your thigh, signaling for you to put your legs through. Doing the same with your bra, he then helped you off the examination table.

“Seriously, you were really good. You know, for my first time.”

“Would barely call that a first time, I’ll give you that another time though.” He winked, turning around to look for your other clothes. Your jaw dropped, but you recollected yourself before he turned back to see.

“Right well. Thank you..” You said awkwardly, looking down at your feet. Where were you supposed to go from here? You just got fingered by your gynecologist in his public doctor’s office. You would have to reflect on this when you got home.

“Not an issue, really.” Matty sidestepped you to get to one of the cabinets behind you, slapping your ass as he did. Tease. He was being much too normal about this.

“I mean, what kind of doctor would I be if I left you unsatisfied with your appointment?”

[turtleybeachin]

Okay I have finally thought of an ask! Not sure if you remember me or not but that's okay. It kinda has to do with the summoning through pacts. I was wondering if you could write something along the lines of an MC who is usually calm, but a MC having a panic attack or is just scared and accidentally summons a brother? I'd like to request all of the brothers or even the dateables but I don't want to ask that much. Do whoever you want with this ask if you do it at all! ❤️❤️

Hi I totally remember you and never forgot this but got way too in my own head about it. I think I crawled back out now. Thanks for being patient with me. ♥ So first of all, I love the concept of accidentally summoning someone to you. Sure, the actual summoning spell is great, but the idea of panic-summoning and maybe not even fully intentionally? Amazing. I started writing how they'd comfort you but got too in my head trying to do everyone (and not feel like i was rehashing Burnout), so I have a few that are spawning future updates to Burnout (for the new side characters), and then some one-offs I'll share as I finish them as well. But! Here are some thoughts I had on alternative summonings when upset.

Characters: Everyone! :) and a GN!MC (reader) Rating: G Word Count: ~2.3k Tagging: references to MC struggling mentally/emotionally, some fluffy affection, mostly a think piece on unintended summoning. Spoiler warnings for OG game, most notably for end of season 2, a bit of season 3, and vaguely part of season 4. Nothing too big, but there nonetheless.

Lucifer's Ring of Light is a perfect fidget piece. Spinning it around your finger, rubbing your thumb along the band, pressing on the edges of the stones to let the dull pinch ground you. It's always there on your finger, always present, always twinkling in the corner of your eye as a reminder you aren't alone. It is not his any longer, but that doesn't mean he isn't still aware of it, that a little piece of him isn't still present in a little piece of its inherent magic. And when you're spinning it and digging it into your palm and distressed, he feels an echo of that pain. It pulls him to you. Perhaps, in your own way, you're admitting you need his presence, his strength, his help, and he is not about to start abandoning his loved ones now.

With Mammon's keychain of that chocolate lizard, your thumb knew all the grooves, the smooth spots and the rough ones, the little spot where paint was chipped away that you knew you shouldn't pick at but it just happened anyway, your nail catching on the rough edge. You fidget with it when anxious because you know Mammon used to fidget with it just the same, and isn't that comforting, to know that even a powerful ancient fallen angel would run his thumb along the very same ridges you do? It's almost like you can still feel the warmth of his touch there. And you can't really think your First Man ain't gonna know you as well as he knows himself, can you? That he doesn't know when you need him, when you're tuggin' on the pact like that?

Leviathan's script he gave you? You've memorized it by now. In times when everything is spiraling, you remember your favorite lines, the ones that remind you to stay strong. You recite them to yourself between shaking breaths. Because when you can't be strong and cool and calm yourself, sometimes it helps to put yourselves in the shoes of Henry, the shoes of the Romantic Lead, the shoes of the characters written to always have a happy ending. It is, you realize, the same way Levi puts himself in the shoes of the Lord of Shadows, wrapping the cool-clever-badass-strong cloak around him as an armor. There's no Lord of Shadows without his Henry, and there's no you without him. And just like how in book six, the Lord of Shadows gets accidentally bound to Henry with a spell and is able to feel when Henry's in need and the Lord of Shadows leaves his lair without knowing where he's really going just knowing that he's needed and he ends up following this magical instinctive pull to find Henry and get to him just in time to save him from his enemies who were-- ...well, let's just say that Levi won't leave you to fight your mind alone for long.

Satan wasn't wrong that cats are perfect for calming the emotional storm inside you. They're good little listeners, and their company is a great distraction from the voices in your head. Watching the little fuzzballs roll around, or nap in a sunbeam, or prowl through the grass, it distracts you from all the frustration and anxiety and worries. Whether it's watching neighborhood cats, or visiting a cafe, or popping into a shelter, you've taken to Satan's favorite hack for handling your wayward emotions. On the really bad days, it's nice to know you can vent and cry to them and they won't judge you or tell anyone your secrets. But did you forget, MC, the stories about cats that traverse the realms? They won't ever tell anyone, but they might wander from you to their favorite place in the Devildom and they might headbutt a certain blond demon's shin and chirp for him to follow them. They are, after all, very good listeners. And so is he.

With Asmodeus, you look at the photos of him on your phone, at your selfies together and how big you smiled beside him. You blink away burning tears to focus on how he looks not at the camera but at you, his body angled not to show his best side (which is every side of course) but to press always closer to you, and how no matter where you two were or what was happening your smiles were always so bright and genuine with him. When everything feels like too much and not worth it and you feel trapped and cornered by situations beyond your control, you find yourself clutching your phone and swiping through hundreds of pictures of laughter and kisses and hugs and twirls and snuggles and you whisper a promise that one day, soon, we'll be together again. Sooner than you expect, of course, because did you really think that he wouldn't feel your burning need for him across realms, hon?

Beelzebub just has to be comfort food, our precious glutton. When life without your demons is getting you down, it's the salty snacks, the sweet treats, the tubs of ice cream with the chunks of something extra to dig for like buried treasure. And whenever you indulge, you can't help but think of your gentle giant and what he'd have to say about everything. He'd be happy you're eating, of course, and then what would he think of your human world snacks? Which makes you think of your favorite Devildom snacks, and that just hits you with a fresh wave of homesickness. But somewhere out there, a realm away, one particular Avatar just gets this feeling, you know? Like the way he knows when Belphie is craving quetzalcoatl brains, or is napping in the garden. Just that instinct. And his instinct is telling him you need your favorite cupcakes. Surely Lucifer will understand how vital it is he takes these three dozen cupcakes to the human world right now. And if he doesn't, well, that argument with his brother can wait until after your craving is satisfied.

Belphegor of course is our star-gazing boy, and while you like the idea of looking into the sky to seek out any possible shared stars to look at with him, you can't always see the stars at night everywhere, and the human realm has day and night cycles that hide them for at least half the day anyhow. For Belphie, you have a pillow from him (that he either gifted or didn't complain about your stealing) that you keep with you -- not for sleeping, but for comfort. A pillow to smother your tears on the rough nights, a pillow to pummel on your frustrated days. A pillow you curl around and snuggle for a memory of contact now distant. And when you drift off in those fitful sleeps of exhaustion, you wander in your dreams to another dream unknowingly. He's with you when you rest, and the moment he can get away from Lucifer's watchful gaze, he'll be there to tug the pillow out of your arms to crawl into your embrace himself.

With Diavolo, well, he knows things. Usually it's because of Barbatos, or Lucifer, or his familiars, but you? MC, you're so much more precious than the 'usual'. If asked by anyone who doesn't know him well enough to call him out, he'd say the charm he placed on you was simply for matters of Devildom security-- after all, you know possibly too much, and that could make you a target to the wrong people! (Barbatos politely does not point out that it's because he misses you so much and wants to see what you're doing.) It's not that he wants to intrude on your life or anything, it's important you have the chance to be as wonderfully human as you are, but he just worries. Are you alright? Are you comfortable? You'd mentioned once the extravagance of the brothers' lifestyle, do you have enough income? The charm is just a minor thing, a little thing, just to make sure you're well. And when you aren't? Well, paperwork and meetings will wait.

With Barbatos, he's just such a badass god-like time lord, we don't even need a pact to be connected to him. You had brought up the idea of a pact once, and he had just given you that dangerous smirk and demurred that it wasn't so much a pact you desired, surely, as his company and his attention, both of which were already yours. It seemed like such a smooth line at the time, but you didn't realize the extent of it. How you're a bright twinkling point on every timeline for him, how you are the center of every universe he knows, how he orients himself in any reality by looking to you. So when something is wrong, when you're falling apart or in danger, it's like the spiderweb crackling of a timeline splitting. Like an itch at the back of his throat, an ache behind his eyes. The choices are to let you suffer alone, or to teleport himself to your side and help you through. Do you even have to wonder which option he chooses?

Simeon may have a complicated relationship with his blessing and his celestial light, with his place and his purpose, but one thing has never felt complicated:  you. Every baked good he ever made for you was made with pure love, and every gift he bestowed -- from a little sheep plush sewn by hand to earrings made from his own feathers -- had all of his hopes and wishes and prayers for you inside them. Maybe that's why squeezing the soft little plush fills you with such warmth and comfort, and why the brush of the feather against your neck feels like a kiss. When you're struggling and upset, the gifts from Simeon make you feel grounded just a little more. And perhaps it's a prayer answered for him, too, that he just has a feeling when it's time to go visit you.

Solomon has been watching out for you longer than you know. It started in the little ways, simple defensive spells and barriers to protect you, reminding demons who looked a little too closely at you who precisely he was and what he could do. It graduated to teaching you to defend yourself, and gifting you various magical trinkets and charms to help focus and direct your growing magics. You still don't really know all the ways that he keeps an eye on you. But he does. Nothing is more important than you. When one of his spells alerts him that you're upset or in distress, well. He just so happened to be in the neighborhood, MC, and what a lucky coincidence that is!

Luke is such a literal perfect little angel baby. One who gave you his blessing, to protect you even when he can't. Everyone teases him for being so young, but he knows that you are the one human he wants to guide and shelter and protect. And sure, when he gave his blessing, it was under the assumption you might need protection from demons or fae, from magic and shadow. But that doesn't mean his blessing doesn't also guide and protect you in times of need that aren't external, MC. When you're at your lowest and feeling completely alone, he feels the pull, feels your pain, and what sort of guardian angel would he be if he left you alone?

Mephistopheles you don't have a pact with (yet?), but imagine your magic ripping open a portal to him without your conscious intent when you're feeling small and lonely and just so badly miss him and want him with you. Maybe you think of him because of the kindness he has shown himself capable of; maybe you think of him because you know he's the least likely person to tell the brothers or anyone else about you having a meltdown. And he's startled and confused when this portal opens before him, the magic somewhat familiar but certainly not demonic, and he warily steps through half-expecting some idiotic prank of one of the brothers only to find you curled up and small and fragile and all of his complaints and questions can wait. After all, clearly you can't even manage your own magic right now, so someone has to keep you from causing trouble.

With Thirteen, it's the little conversation crystal that she gifted you during The Three Worlds' Fair. Perhaps you turned it into a pendant, or perhaps it's just always in your bag or pocket, kept close as a charm for good luck and reminder of the fact you aren't alone. You don't think it would actually work across realms but still hold it tightly and whisper your frustrations or fears or doubts into it just to get things off your chest. But between your magic and hers, it does still connect, and she does hear your outbursts. And at first she just lets it happen, quietly charmed and amused you would use her gift as a secret diary. But when you're really struggling? Well. Reapers are meant to move between realms, you know. There's nowhere she won't go for you.

And Raphael is not an angel to be summoned on the whim of some human. But he is incredibly observant (even if he sometimes doesn't 'read a room' well). He is the one who reads between your lines more than you expected, more than you intended, more perhaps than you want. He sees the tension you hold, the dark circles under your eyes, the way your smiles are just a little slow and empty; he hears the silences where he expects to hear laughter or humming or conversation. And he nearly ignores it, because it's not his business, and you have plenty of other devoted fans already flocking to you, but then he realizes that in those moments you don't. In your pain, you are alone, and that is the most jarring observation of them all. So perhaps it is up to him to correct this cosmic error, and be the one to support the human who supports everyone else.

I hope you still enjoy, even if it's not exactly what you had in mind! ♥ and when i get around to the other little things this spawned, i'll tag you if you'd like.

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Games in the library 18+ MDNI

Aemond x reader (Tutor/gamer au) Fluffish and also smuttish

Tags: smut, library fucking, public sex and nerdy gamer references.

Cool devider credits: saradika

🔷Summary: Your GPA is tanking and you need help. Luckily there is the grumpy antisocial Aemond to help you out.

🔷Author's note: Based on tutor aus but I made my own spin on it.

🔷Wordcount :7324

🔷Warnings: Au universe, smut, desk fucking, p in v, dom/sub, reader x aemond, fluff, gamer references, cozy gamer gf and shoot-em-up bf (found something else? Let me know)

There have been quite a few storms lately, causing more rain and making the world a little gloomy. You don’t mind, however. You have always been a fan of rain. Unlike today, where it’s an extra reminder how much you rather spent inside, cooped up with a good game with a warm cup of hot chocolate, not running around your campus with your bag above your head, as if life depends on it.

You are relieved when you make it inside, in the beautiful library that was built long before you began this study. You notice a silver-haired boy with a missing eye sitting in the corner of the room, with his math books in front of him, impatiently glaring around, unaware you are already there. “Hi!” you enthusiastically say, placing your Starbucks coffee cup and handbag on the table in the big messy library you just entered. It’s a saturday so most students would not want to be found death here at this time. 

You have a reason to be here, sadly. You are failing math, falling behind more and more on the subject. So your professor, Borros assigned you a very unwillingly tutor, Aemond Targaryen. He sighed when Borros suggested he should tutor you, even going as far to say that there is no use in tutoring someone who does not want to learn. There is truth in that, but the issue is not that you don’t want to learn. It’s something else.

Aemond glares at your cup before standing up and checking the time on his expensive smartwatch. “Why are you late?” Great. You were afraid of not getting here in time, seems like your Starbucks trip took a little longer than you had planned out.

You take out your phone. You are exactly 5 minutes late. There was a big line in front of Starbucks. And you forget you had tutoring today, to begin with. “I—uhm—forgot the time.” You lie.

He looks at your Starbucks cup accusingly. If it had feelings, the cup would feel attacked, perhaps even insulted, before it would hop off the large wooden table and into a nearby trashcan, ending itself. You would gladly follow it in the rabbit hole trashcan.  “I’m sacrificing my free Saturday for you. The least you could do is get here on time.” There is always a bit of a gruff, Gringe-like edge to his voice as if someone just stole his presents and he is pissed.

You huff. He acts so high and mighty, and yet you know there is nothing personal about this. He does not help you because he is some godly angel. He helps you to get points. This is not a charity project for him, or a social project this is cold selfishness and part of his plan to become the best student of your class, likely a step 4 in his 10 plan step to world domination.

You smile sweetly when adjusting your ponytail. “You aren’t sacrificing anything. You get points and the chance to become Borros’s TA.’’ You tell him, dangling his reward in front of him as if it’s a carrot, just in case he thought about bailing.

He dreams of that position for some reason, though you can’t for the love of the gods figure out why. Perhaps for status, power, future learning references or just to get close to Borros? Your teacher  had hinted that if he could somehow get you to improve your grades, there might be a chance he would become his teacher's assistant. That was enough to sway Aemond into teaching you.

Aemond briefly pushes his gold-rimmed glasses back on his nose, smirking at you.  You feel a little nervous under his gaze. “Correct. That means that I decide how this lesson will proceed.’’ 

His cryptic description makes your mind wander back to the familiar gutter you have come to know so well. You  make a mental note to stop reading dark romance books with tutors for a while. 

You ignore him. That makes him eager to get your attention back. “No calls, no texts—for the next hour, you are at my mercy.” Sweet gods.

His soft pink lips briefly smack before breaking into a grin that sends shivers down your spine. You are thankful for the small bolero that covers your dress.

Aemond is a huge nerd. Kinda cute, but he doesn’t know how innuendos work. And he is certainly not aiming his innuendos at you. 

“Okay. So, you’re like good at math, right?’’ you ask, a little insecure. You are worried he might not actually teach you anything at all, though he is smart, his hands almost always scorching through the air as though Borros is personally offending him with his questions. He reads advanced math books whenever you and your girlfriends hang out in the library, shooting glares whenever you are too loud, giggling or gossiping.

He seems insulted that you think so lowly of him.”’I’m the best in our class.” You never really kept eye on who is the best of the class, and you do not really ever cared. Who cares, as long as you keep up your GPA it is all fine.

But you are not dumb, you need to keep him as your friend for now. At least your ally. Your accomplice? You don’t know. You think you would be all the way at the bottom. ‘’Impressive.’’ You say, but you can’t bother to meet his eye before taking a sip of your very delicious pumpkin spice late.

His head tilts slightly when he narrows his eyes suspiciously, reading you as a open book. He huffs. “I can tell you don’t give a damn. Take out your notebooks, study books and whatever else you might need. It is time we start.” Whatever else you might need? You feel dread and anxiety fill your chest as you become aware of your thoughts traveling already far away from the lesson.

He brought an adorable little digital clock, that he puts on the table gently, before turning it on, exactly 120 minutes. He really does not want to be here a second longer than he has to be.

You faithfully take out your notebooks decorated with Sanrio stickers, Pokémon stickers and panda stickers, as well as your textbook, and your collection of Hello Kitty gel pens. You put it all out for him to see, flicking the textbook open in front of you. 

Aemond stands up, briefly looking over your handwriting in your notebook. He wets his lips before speaking. “Good girl.”

You roll your eyes.

He gets up from the chair across the table, walking to the empty seat next to you. He sits down, glancing at some of your previous sums, together with little drabbles and doodles. “So—what do you have problems with?” 

You can feel the warmth of his body and smell the fabric softener he uses on his clothes. He probably does his own laundry. 

This will be a long hour. You sigh, before summing it up. “Addition and subtraction, analog time, multiplication and division…’’ And you forget dozens of other things.

Anything and everything that involves numbers. You have been that way since a kid, throwing tantrums whenever you were forced to do math or make a puzzle. Your brain blacks out whenever you are forced to make a sum, and after a while your brain is just completely fried.

He wrinkles his nose, thinking. “So, everything?’’ he summarizes dryly. 

You nod. “Yep.”

His good eye slightly widens. “I can do this,” he mutters, to himself more than to you. He taps on an empty page of your notebook with his fingers.

‘’Write down ‘twenty-five plus eighty-seven’.”

You obey, faithfully writing the sum down in your notebook with your favorite Hello Kitty glitter pens. 

Aemond looks at the pen with a sigh, bending over your notebook to see what you wrote down. His brows furrow. 

You try your best to focus on his voice and his words rather than the fact that he sits so close to you and smells like fresh strawberries.

‘’Alright. Next, write down ‘one hundred and fifty-nine plus ninety-four’.” Again, you write it down as best as you can, in a reasonably readable handwriting. You hear him curse under his breath, exhaling.

“Five hundred and thirty-two plus six hundred and fifty-six..” 

You write a bit faster, messing up a few of the numbers in the process. You are glad you are starting with the addition sums, as they come the easiest to you.  

“Lastly, three hundred and fifty-five plus four hundred and sixty-six.’’ He looks at your sums. With one glance at his face, you can tell you’ve already fucked it up. “I said ‘one hundred and ninety-five’, but you’ve written down ‘one hundred and fifty-nine’. I said ‘six hundred-and-sixty-five’, but you wrote down ‘six hundred and fifty-six’.” 

Great. He must think you are doing it on purpose. Embarrassed, you quickly scratch out the numbers you wrote down before sighing, cursing yourself for thinking this was going to solve anything.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” he wonders. “Do you even want my help?” The nerve of this man. 

“What do you think?” you snap, placing the cap back on your Hello Kitty gel pens. “You think you’re my first tutor? You think you’re the first who’s tried to help me? I’ve done all of this before, but none of it matters. Nothing will stick anyway.” 

Your voice becomes squeaky. You blink rapidly to avoid ruining your mascara. He must think you are so stupid. You are. So, so stupid.

Aemond looks over your work again, sighing and rubbing his face. “No,” he murmurs quietly. “You turn them around. Some of the numbers.” 

That has been an issue since you were introduced to numbers. That and the bigger they get, the bigger the chance you mess it up.

“No shit,” you huff, searching your handbag for your tissues. You find them buried under your perfume bottle and use them to wipe at your eyes. 

His feet move under the table, briefly touching yours.

“Don’t get mean. Just making an observation.’’ He scratches behind his ear. “What do you mean, ‘nothing  will stick’?” 

Great. He will piss himself with laughter when he hears this.

You’d rather not tell him, or anyone, really. It is embarrassing. You are a twenty-two-year-old girl who can’t divide the simplest numbers and, without a digital clock, you’d get nowhere on time. You wouldn’t even know the time. People can and have taken advantage of that just to bully you. “It’s complicated,” you say.

His usual gruff voice softens. “Alright. So, tell me.”

What is the harm? you wonder. Who is he even going to tell?

“I’ve got a non-verbal learning disorder,” you mumble. There. He knows.

“What?” he asks, a little too loud for your liking. Even if he had whispered, it would have been too loud. There is no one here, yet you are worried somehow someone heard.

You growl back, “Non-verbal learning disorder. NLD.” 

It is a little less common than dyslexia—a lot less common, actually. You have heard that dyscalculia and NLD is a very common combination. That might be the reason you are so horrible at math. Part of your brain just refuses to understand it, which frustrates you, which makes you upset, and all that means you’d very much rather not do math at all. 

Aemond becomes very quiet before admitting something you never thought you’d hear. “I’ve never heard of that.” 

Where could he have, though? He is very clearly a math expert, not a learning disorder expert. 

You look at your polished pink nails with gold glitter.

“Hm. Not surprised. You are perfect after all, aren’t you?” you ask.

He becomes grumpy and unbearable, as you become mad and perhaps jealous that he is so perfectly fine and normal, and boring. “Fine. Don’t tell me.” 

Aemond takes out his phone. You thought they were ‘forbidden’. Didn’t he say so earlier? You glare, insulted. You have a social life, after all, and the world suddenly seems far more beautiful than it had been before you began your suffering here. 

“So, are you telling me you don’t know how late it is now?” He shoves a Wikipedia page in your face. He looked it up.

You take out your phone. “Of course I do. It’s fifteen-thirty.” 

You don’t say the correct time. You say ‘fifteen-thirty’. Fifteen thirty. Not half over past something, am or pm bullshit. You say it how it is. It’s fifteen-thirty.

Aemond draws a clock in your notebook. You quite like the way he uses your Hello Kitty gel pen for it. “And in analog time, that would be?” He wonders, his voice trailing off when his one remaining good eye glances at you.

You shake your head as he draws two hands on the clock, and multiple numbers. “Oh, no one cares about those lame old clocks,” you smoothly lie, and it is part of the truth. 

No one uses those old lame clocks anymore. Everyone and their mother has a cellphone. Why bother reading a clock if you have a cellphone? And in your case—why bother reading a language your brain seems to not understand anyway?

Aemond sighs, reading you easily. He scratches the clock out. “You can’t read them, can you?” He asks after he has scratched them out. You can either deny it or lie about it but why waste energy and time?

This man is too observant. 

“I know that the big one up means ‘twelve’,” you say with a little smile, very proud that one thing did decided to stick.

You can see it on his face—it’s becoming more and more clear that you don’t need a tutor. You need a miracle.  

He blurts out a question. “How did you even leave high school?” he asks. You don’t think he meant to hurt you, but he still does.

“How did you lose your eye?” you ask, lashing out.

Aemond sits up a little straighter. “That’s quite a personal question—” 

You smile back, still furious and hiding your displeasure by ripping your nails.  “Exactly.” you groan.

“Fine,” he mutters. “I’m sorry. I’m impressed, if anything.’’

Fake sympathy. Yeah. 

This is a waste of time, you didn’t learn years ago, why would you learn it now? Why did you even came here to begin with? A little voice reminds you of just why you came over. “You don’t need to lie to me. I know I’m stupid,” you mutter when playing with your bracelet. 

Aemond grabs your wrist, letting go almost the second his skin touches yours. “You’re not stupid. I know you can be very clever and an absolute pain in the ass when you want to be.” He grins. “Just… not with numbers.” He closes your notebook.

“Really?”

You know you are clever on other fronts. It’s just difficult to believe you aren’t stupid when you see how advanced your peers and friends are and you still struggle over middle school math.

He nods. “Yeah. I remember for a while in History and Language that you were a threat to my position as best student.’’ 

You’d liked History for a while, it’s true. You were good at it—that is, until you got a social life and it became an afterthought. What might have happened if you had stayed on that path?

You don’t understand why he wants to be the best. “I mean, you are already first in math, aren’t you?” 

He should not push for perfection as much as he does.

He shrugs. “I don’t care. I have to be the best in everything.” It sounds empty. You might not be the only one with problems.

You try telling him what you think. “That’s a little… unhealthy.”

He snaps at you, suddenly scowling. “Well, I don’t have a rich daddy to pay my way into school.” 

Ah. That is his issue with you. He thinks you’re a rich little girl that has a daddy that pays for everything.

You stare at your pink nails, briefly ripping at them before speaking. “I don’t either. Mine died when I was two. I have a stepfather, but he’s too busy fucking my mom and arranging vacations to Dorne for the two of them to bother with me.’’

Aemond’s chest sinks a little, regret written across his face. “I’m sorry.” 

He sounds sincere. And, just like that, you realize your math session has turned into a therapy session. 

You laugh despite your sadness. “Look at me, trauma-dumping all over you. Sorry.” 

You open your notebook at the same moment that Aemond grabs your fingers.

“I think you’ve earned a break.” He awkwardly lets go of you again.

That’s fast. “We haven’t solved a single sum,” you say. “I mean, we can solve one. I think this one is doable…” 

You look at your crossed-out sums. Oh, yeah. That happened. 

His silver-haired head nods up and down, but he does not answer at first, staring at your nails. “Perhaps not. But we have discovered why you have issues with this. Go take a break. That’s an order.”

He cheekily smirks at you, causing butterflies to flutter in your stomach. Perhaps not butterflies—perhaps just straight-up lust. You want to pull this guy in by his sweater and give him a good tumble.

You lick your lips. ‘’Yeah? What will you do if I don’t, sir?’’

He leans in a little closer, his eye flickering to your ruler lying untouched on the table. “Let’s just say… you wouldn’t like to find out.’’

Aemond takes a bottle of water from his bag and a sandwich while you grab a hot chocolate from the machine in the library and a freshly baked muffin from your bag. 

You eat your muffin and then take out your Nintendo Switch bag, starting the device up for a brief moment of relaxation. You play Animal Crossing for a few minutes, forgetting the world around you as you’re sucked into your peaceful little island.

Aemond is very silent as well, staring mostly at you.

“I’ve got one too.” You are sucked out of your island and back into reality. 

‘’Huh?’’ He nods to the switch.

He means a Switch. You didn’t think he would be into games. You think he would be too busy studying, really.

“What game are you playing?” he asks, tilting his head, coming a little closer so he can see for himself, almost touching your skin in the process as he clumsily bumps into you. ‘’Sorry.’’ He murmurs.

“A very intense one,” you comment as a compilation happens on your screen. You want to restore your island from desertcore to cottagecore and right now, one of your villagers has decided to be a menace. 

On Aemond’s lips grows an almost dreamy smile as he stares at you playing on your Switch. “Oh—like Xenoblades? Zelda? Hades?” 

You’ve heard of all three, but haven’t played them. They are not games you think you would like. They sound difficult, full of combat, full of puzzles and full of realisation that you are stupid. So you stay far, far away from them.

“Animal Crossing!” You turn your Switch so he can see your former desert island as you turn it back into a cute aesthetic-worthy village. 

He tries to blink, but he only has one eye so it looks a little awkward. “That is your definition of ‘intense’?” 

It can be. It can be so intense you rage-quit. Some of these animals have no manners—you’ve certainly bullied a fair few off your island. 

“You try terraforming your island when a lazy villager sits in the way!” You point with your finger to the panda cub that sits in the way, right where you want to plant a bush. “That’s Chester, and right now he’s making my life hell—” 

The panda, or Chester, enjoys a sandwich while smiling at your avatar, unaware of the misery he is 

causing.

“That panda is?” Aemond asks, confused. “The panda is the issue? Can’t you tell him to move?” 

That would be so helpful. But, unfortunately, no—that is not an option. 

You nod, turning your Switch back to you. “He just won’t leave. I can hit him with a net, but he would hate me,” you mutter. “Pushing him is useless. He’s, like, glued to this spot.”

Aemond smiles to himself. “Perhaps he is saying we should return to studying.” Chester would say that, the menace. He has not given you his photo either, the bear knows too much.

“He says to me that I can have five more minutes,” you say, smiling and blinking your eyes innocently. 

He sighs deeply, exhaling before putting his arm under his head, watching you terraform around your island. “Cute.” He sits up straight, blushing and quickly pointing to your Switch, decorated with stickers from Stardew Valley. “I meant, uh, the stickers.” He quickly mutters, and you can’t hide your own smile.

The stickers are cute, but you can’t help but wonder if he wasn’t talking about something else. “Thanks, they’re from Stardew Valley.” 

“I heard that game—” Whatever Aemond would say next would forever be a mystery. He is rudely interrupted by your fan dumping all over him, telling him the plot, the main features, and your personal opinion of the game in the world-wide record of 4 minutes as you ramble. “You’re kinda supposed to help this town flourish by bringing crops you grow, artisan stuff, to this community center. You can also romance and have children and have a pet. There is like magic too, but I wish it was more fleshed out-’’ You shut up quickly. You put your switch down.

He nods, but you can tell you are losing his interest. 

“You can slay monsters, too,” you blurt out. “And you have different swords, weapons and stuff. Sorry. I kinda ramble.”

“I like it. It’s cute when you ramble.’’ Damn it. You feel your cheeks redden. Aemond watches the rain outside, before asking another question about Stardew Valley. ‘’Can I kill my spouse?” he asks as a follow up. 

You know the modding community is very active, but they are like about dogs and cat breeds, about teleportation hacks and making portraits better. Not about you know, full-blown murder. “No…”

He frowns as if that surprises him. “Is there warfare? Can I take other people’s farms? Is there a princess for me to save?” No, no, and no.

You understand you two play different games.

“No, not really. It does have multiplayer, though.”

Aemond’s scoffing little smirk returns but it does not meet his hurt and very glossy eye. “I’m kinda a loner.” He laughs but there is a hidden sadness there. A sadness you relate too all too well.

“I am, too,” you say. 

“You have dozens of friends.”  You can still have friends and be alone.

He refers to the girls that you hang out with. Are they friends? You don’t hang out aside from the weekend. You can’t call them, if something has happened to you, and they definitely don’t know you game or have NLD. 

“Yes,” you say, “but…none of them game, I guess? Like, in that way, I’m alone. And I don’t make friends easily. Not everyone likes the games I play. Some wouldn’t even call it gaming. So, what kind of games do you like to play?”

He suddenly becomes interested in his very well cared for nails, and you know you hit a weak spot.

“Crusader Kings II, Zelda, Hades, Xenoblades and shooters.” He tells you. ‘’Mostly single-players.’’

You don’t know Crusader kings, but judging by the name, you do not have a cute farm at day and a run a witchy cozy coven at night. “The bloody ones.”

He snaps his head to you, smirking a bit.

‘’Zelda is not bloody.’’ Before he looks at your hair and your lipstick. ‘’I think you actually like it, if you gave it a chance.’’ He says. ‘’I mean, there is dozens of npcs to talk to, a wonderful open world, and ingredients to forage and outfits to collect and to find. In a way, it is Stardew Valley but without the Valley.’’

He definitely heard about Stardew Valley before. ‘’You know a lot about Stardew.’’

He nods. ‘’My sister, Helaena, she plays it a lot. I wouldn’t know how to play it, however.’’ He confesses, slightly tilting his hands. ‘’It’s beyond me how you get anything done with a time limit and a stamina bar.’’

You smile, and you never thought you would in his company. ‘’Describe the story. Of that Zelda game.’’ 

He needs some time to think before telling you the main story. ‘’You see, with an adventure game that’s…that would defeat the purpose of playing. So: You are a hero, named Link. After 100 years, you awake in a shrine, and you hear a voice, and you need to save the kingdom and the princess.’’ It sounds very …male-written and male-aimed. You aren’t sure Zelda is for you.

You have another problem with it too.

‘’That sounds horrible. Imagine waking up from your nap, and suddenly you got to save the world.’’

At first he is confused but the moment he knows you are joking, he laughs, a very delightful sweet and welcoming sound. ‘’It starts very locked, but there’s so much you can do in the game, in my honest opinion it's one of their best entries in the series. There’s cooking, horses-’’ Horses? There are horses? And cooking? ‘’There is combat, but you learn quickly, at least I did. The monsters are actually clever, and in the beginning, its best to avoid them until you get decent weapons.’’ You aren’t sure. Combat? The monsters in the skull cave of Stardew Valley regularly kick your ass.  ‘’There are puzzles too-’’ That is where you draw the line. No puzzles.

‘’Hell no. I hate puzzles.’’ You did as a kid, and still as an adult you can’t figure out how some people enjoy putting together these images, made up of 1,000 pieces and when they finish it, they destroy it too. Like what is the point? And it does not help you can never figure out where to start.

‘’I know.’’ That catches you off guard. Aemond does not pressure you into it. He simply accepts it.  ‘’But they are fun. We can solve most problems in multiple ways. You can’t fuck this up, if you are scared of that. Even if you die, you can restart as many times as you like. And no one is going to call you stupid for it.’’ He promises you, when leaning in a little closer, touching your face gently.

‘’Not even you?’’ You ask, for confirmation, not sure why you care but you hate for him to laugh at you for doing something very rookie. 

He shakes his head.  ‘’No. It took me a lot of time to get the hang of it too, if you must know.’’ So he is not as perfect as he pretends to be. ‘’I already told you: I don’t think you are stupid.’’

You lean in a little closer to him, staring at his soft pink lips. You make your voice as dry as possible. ‘’What if I call ‘’Link’’ ‘’Zelda?’’ You ask him with a cheeky grin. Nothing annoys Zelda fans more than that.

He grins back, but has faith in you. ‘’I know you won’t.’’ That is true. You know that the Princess is called ‘’Zelda’’ but the person you play as is called ‘’Link.’’ To confuse the two would be like calling JojaMart Pierre’s general store.  

‘’But what if I do?’’ You ask, getting a little cheeky. ‘’Hm? Sir?’’ You ask, pushing his buttons a little more as you grin. 

He needs to make an effort to hide his smirk, quietly muttering when eyeing the stickers on your switch. ‘’Don’t push me, we are alone after all, and I’m very bored.’’ He murmurs, sending a shiver down your spine when his voice gets that rough edgy little dark edge.

‘’Are you …Interested?’’ You ask, surprised.

He lifts his head, a bit insulted. ‘’You think I would not avoid you like the plague if I wasn’t?’’

All this time you thought he hated you, but he had a crush on you. ‘’I thought you hated me! That I annoyed you!’ 

He blushes, quickly cleaning his glasses for some reason. ‘’No, I just don’t like it when I can’t control my feelings. Like I become very different around you.’’ You noticed. He puts walls around himself.

‘’You become a little angry bird or a Goomba.’’ You know for sure he knows what a Goomba is, and you know it as well. They are the adorable little creatures from Mario games that try to murder Mario and look grumpy.

He chuckles, mortified by your description.

‘’Please, no, gods, not a Goomba.’’ 

You do find the courage to tell him your final thoughts, before flipping your notebook again, picking up where you left with the sums. ‘’If it helps, you are kinda cute too, Aemond.’’ You tell him, and you mean it. ‘’Not that I’m into Goombas, but..Yeah. You’re cute.’’ You tell him.

He nods, absently before he becomes serious again. ‘’Did you ever try motivational tutor lessons?’’ Motivational what?

‘’What uhm do you mean?’’ You ask, a little lost.

He shrugs, smiling. ‘’Well, people are more likely to succeed if there is a reward for them in it.’’ You notice him biting down at his lips, avoiding your eyes.

‘’And uhm, what would my reward be?’’ You ask your body to betray you within mere seconds as you think of how he will reward you. You, on the couch on top of him when fucking him-

He grins, when slowly touching your legs, going to the space between your legs, to where your dress ends. ‘’Whatever you like,’’ he purrs softly in your ear. ‘’ A cup of coffee, a donut…’’

You nod, a little disappointed and curse your dirty mind. That man is a saint for trying with you. Aemond reaches out to grab something close to your textbook and your eyes follow his fingers. ‘’People are likely to succeed more if they are disciplined too.’’ He is just teasing you, you tell your very dirty minded mind.

You know he will make you stand in the corner or perhaps take your phone away. ‘’And what would my punishment be?’’ You ask, dryly when you copy the sums from the textbook.

Aemond sighs. ‘’I won’t do anything you don’t consent to, that is the first lesson.’’ You were taking a sip of your cold coffee and nearly spat it out, all over your textbook as your cheeks burned with interest.

‘’But if you are into a little motivation, I guess I can show you another use for this pretty ruler.’’ He mutters, tapping with the ruler against the palm of his hand. You notice he has excellent self-control. This will be fun.

Yet you are surprised, that the red sweater glass-wearing sniveling little best of the class into BDSM. ‘’You’re into Kink?’’ You ask, your voice is a bit strangled.

‘’That’s not an answer, little brat.’’ 

He totally is. Gods, just your luck, stuck with Aemond Targaryen who is secretly into brat taming. Whatever sums you wanted to make, will certainly get fucked up now.

‘’Do you expect me to really learn better?’’ You hope he understands that your brain is just not a regular brain. It won’t magically solve things now that you are motivated. 

Aemond shakes his head. ‘’I kinda don’t. But it’s alright, love. I won’t get upset with you. Not really, at least.’’ He tells you with a grin. ‘’But I won’t lay a finger on you until I get your consent.’’ Such a gentleman. 

‘’Fine, you’re free to touch me.’’

On his lips, grows a dangerous smirk as he grins, before sitting next to you. ‘’What is the square root of 48?’’ He puts his left hand on your knee and slowly makes his way to your thigh…

Fuck. ‘’Uhm, 4.’’ You blurt out. It is a gamble but you don’t care.

Aemond chuckles before tsking as a disapproving teacher, before grinning and telling you the correct answer. ‘’That would be 6.’’ You growl, a little angry you didn’t know it. But he softly murmurs in your ear, when his hands go over your body. ‘’Take off your coat.’’ He tells you coldy. 

You let out a little squeak. He grins, adding softly. ‘’Again, if you want to, of course.’’

‘’I want you to strip too.’’ You tell him after you have taken your coat off. 

He chuckles, thinking you can’t defeat him. That you don’t know his weakness. But he told you, earlier today without him realizing so.  ‘’You can ask me questions but I know a lot more about math-’’

You interrupt him, smiling.

‘’What year did the Titanic sink?’’

Aemond gawks at you, before thinking deeply. It is a random event that did kill people, but it had no major consequences. ‘’1910?’’ He guesses. You grin. 

‘’1912, take off your shoes.’’ You tell him.

‘’Fuck.’’ he murmurs, but obeys. ‘’If I go with the train at 9:20, and the train takes half an hour-'’ No way you will get that one, so you take your dress off, zipping your zipper down and exposing your black bra and matching knickers. Aemond’s breath catches slightly, exhaling when his pupils enlarge.‘’Good girl.’’ That is enough to worsen your arousal and to harden your nippels. Aemond watches as it happens, a pleased contemptuous smile on his lips. 

‘’Tell me, little Brat. Darwin’s father has four children, Red, orange, yellow and-’’ It is a pattern question. A clear question. Red orange yellow are colors represented in the rainbow. ‘’Green?’’ The moment you said it, you repeat the question silently before growling.

‘’No! "It's Darwin!” You grow out.

He chuckles. ‘’You can keep your pretty knickers and bra on. I want you to sit on my lap.’’ You sit down on his lap, making sure to rub him a tiny bit in the process, to make him wild. He groans in your ear when forcing your ass down. ‘’Such a naughty little brat. And so wet for me too.’’ He murmurs in your ear when his fingers smoothly slide in your knickers, before toying with your folds, touching before inspecting your wetness. You twist on his lap, trying to force the finger to move deeper, harder, and rougher. Aemond pulls you tightly to his chest to avoid you moving at all.

You enjoy his control more than you should. ‘’Fuck…’’ You quietly mutter. He muses happily to himself as you squirm and twist on his lap. 

‘’So tense, are we shy, little brat?’’ He is toying with you, torturing you.

‘’Aemond, please.’’ You beg, helplessly as he begins to fuck your body with his fingers, and you happily fuck his hands, clenching yourself whenever you are allowed. 

You need to find release soon, and he knows it very well judging by his smirk. ‘’I’m afraid I won't listen to that name. You will call me Sir or you will refrain from speaking at all.’’ He says, and your fucked up little brain enjoys it too much.

That is so hot. He has an authority kink. ‘’Fuck!’’

He grins, as he takes a stance behind you.

‘’I’m afraid I can’t allow such crass words.’’

Oh shit. You feel your heart race and your stomach flutter with lust and butterflies and your curious mind wanders. ‘’Aemond…’’ He grabs you briefly by the throat, but he does not make it hurtful. He raises a brow. 

You look at your shoes.

‘’I meant, Sir…’’ Your face is pressed down against the wood of the table, before Aemond growls.

‘’Nothing will save you now, little brat. You are all mine.’’

He grabs the ruler and your cheeks are spanked first with his fingers before he moves on to the iron ruler, hitting your cheeks with precision but hard enough for you to like it. You squirm on the desk, certain you leave a trail of wetness as Aemond uses the ruler on both your ass cheeks, finding a torturous rhythm. And yet you like it. You want it to happen again, you want to brat. ‘’Fuck,’’ you cry out as three of his fingers enter your pussy. His left hand is feeling you up, when his right continues to punish you for your sins. ‘’Sir, sir please!’ You moan.

‘’Are you sorry?’’ He asks, between fucking you on the desk with his hand and spanking you. You nod, furiously. He sighs, letting go of you and his fingers leave your spent wet cunt. ‘’Good. Don’t be naughty again or I will punish you again.’’ He warns you. You want to brat. And you want to brat so hard that he will punish you with his cock this time. 

You bring your own fingers to your entrance but before that you can shove them in, Aemond has grabbed your wrist, painfully twisting it. ‘’Seems like someone can’t behave herself.’’ You nod, furiously as if you regret it deeply. Aemond sighs. ‘’Pull my pants down for me.’’ He tells you, and you inwardly cheer. You get to work, unbuttoning his jeans for him and pulling them down first, before staring at his boxers which barely hide his erected cock. 

You pull his boxers down too, freeing his cock as the red swollen tip is pushed in your face, with clear precum on the edge. ‘’Get on the desk.’’ He tells you. ‘’Bent over it, the way I know you want to.’’ You know what he means very well, and you obey, bending over the desk so he could take you on it.

He sighs before grabbing one of your hands and wrapping your fingers around his cock. ‘’Make me go wild, and I’ll fuck your little needy pussy.’’ You obey, your back turned to him as you try to please him with your fingers rubbing his head and his balls. 

You are bended, and Aemond opens your legs roughly and sharply, before going inside of you with his cock, filling you all the way with his length as you silently whisper. Aemond starts to trust and you become lightheaded and carried away on your pleasure. He fits so well. ‘’Sir,’’ you weakly mutter as he fucks you on the table, your book and hello kitty gel pens still present. Aemond grunts as an animal before grabbing the ruler, smacking your cunt this time, causing you to cry out in pleasure. ‘’Sir!’’ You repeat your own cry, before slamming your hips against his own, begging him to finish you. ‘’Please!’’ 

‘’Such a needy cunny. I’m going to come inside of you, little Princess. You are going to tell all your little whore friends about this, that you got fucked by a man in the library, used as a glorified slave. You will tell them how red and throbbing your little pussy was, and you will not tell anyone it was me. Is that understood, or do you need me to fucking explain it another way?’’ You understand, but you would love another explanation because it sounds so dirty.

‘’Another way. I’m pretty stupid.’’

He glares as if he disagrees with that.

‘’Very well.’’

Aemond grabs you by your hips again, fucking you.

‘’’N-no, Aemond, I have a party tonight-’’ You tell him, begging him to be a bit gentle.

He groans. ‘’I don’t care. Fuck your parties.’’

He did not get invited.

‘’Nhn!’’ You cry out as his cock cruelly fucks you, not giving a damn about your warnings.

Aemond’s lips briefly kiss your sweaty forehead. 

‘’Delicious, such a good cunny.’’ He murmurs, rubbing your cunt until blood sticks to his fingers. You need a little push. Just one tiny push. ‘’And now, you will come for me, my slut. When I tell you, you will come all over my cock, soaking me.’’ You nod, bracing yourself.

Aemond fucks you harder and faster and it becomes difficult to hold your orgasm in. You need to release it, you need to find a release fast. ‘’Sir, please.’’ You beg, helpless. He grins, spanking your needy pussy.

‘’I know, but try to show some self-respect, my little brat.’’ 

You wordlessly wail. He sighs, before impaling you thoroughly and resting his hands on your hips. He whispers in your ear. ‘’Come.’’ You obey, freed from a prisoner and let go when you two fuck each other roughly, your muscles hurting from the rough fucking on the desk. And finally, you come all over his cock, just as he promised you would. He takes you two more times after that, bringing you close to two other orgasms, before denying those two. You are taken without warning and lose your control, coming all over him, earning you a spanking and a rough fucking before he comes inside of you as well, with a lot of curse words and grunts. 

‘’Fuck, Y/N.’’ He murmurs, in your ear. You put your underwear and bra back on. The timer ends, revealing that two whole hours have passed. Aemond dresses himself quickly too, looking at your messy hair and glassy eyes. 

You become aware of the feelings and the urge to run far away from them. ‘’I have to go.’’ You tell him.

Aemond stops you, gently and you know he has become himself again, dropping the dom-act.

‘’No. You seem to know some things about Kink, but after playing with my ladies, I give them aftercare. You deserve a bagel, or a donut, or fuck it, another Starbucks if you want. If we were at my place, I’d prepare a bath for you or give you a message.’’ He rambles on. ‘’Let me buy you something nice for your lunch, and at least walk you home.’’ He asks, no, begs. Your face melts at his sweet manners. 

You put your stuff in your back, as Aemond zips up your dress for you, careful to avoid your hairs. He has done this before. You wonder how many times and with who. ‘’She is judging us.’’ He suddenly whispers, nodding to your hello kitty gel pen. 

After two hours he has become just as mad as you have. ‘’She knows too much, I might drown her into my Starbucks later.’’ You tell him.

He does not approve of that idea.

‘’That would be sad and torture.’’

‘’Fine, I’ll just…put her in my pencil case.’’ You do as you promise him, putting the gel pens in your pencil case.

‘’That’s it, good girl.’’

He winks before following you to Starbucks.

‘’Hey, uhm Aemond?”’ You ask after you are waiting for your order. Aemond looks around a little amazed. He has never been here before, calling it a capitalistic hell. 

‘’Yeah?’’ his hands nervously play with his rings. He can be so adorably shy.

‘’What are you doing tonight?’’ You wonder, hoping you don’t regret this. As in, he does not say no.

‘’Not much, I might actually play Zelda. Why?’’ He wonders.

‘’Want to come to this party with me?’’ You blurt out with a smile.

a/nthank you for reading let me know what you think. there might be a part 2 but i havent decided yet.

The eh creatures above the a/n are goombas.

[insipid-drivel]

Horses: Since There Seems To Be An Even Wider Knowledge Gap Than I Anticipated

...And actually find it really exciting that I have a reason to expand and address some comments and questions from my first post!

This is a sequel/addition to my original post, "Horses: Since There Seems To be A Knowledge Gap". I want to address more horse-related knowledge gaps, common misinformation and mistakes made by well-meaning and very skilled creators that wouldn't know otherwise unless they worked with horses directly. You should not have to work hands-on with horses to learn some of this stuff, but the fact remains that horse facts and riding knowledge is often underdiscussed and usually only shared by other people that work with/around horses. A lot of this information should be within easier reach for writers and artists, too!

Before I begin, I'd like to thank all of you that politely reached out in the comments, tags, and my DMs/asks with your thoughtful additions to details I forgot/left out/hadn't even considered, and your brave questions posed to me personally that I was more than happy to answer. I'm truly thankful to all of you who contributed with a positive energy, or that had the courage to reach out to me - the OP - with questions my first post didn't manage to help you with. I will never punish, shame, or otherwise mistreat anyone who comes to me with an earnest question or correction in good faith, anonymous or not. If you're polite to me, I will be polite to you. I will try my hardest to answer questions I may not have much experience with, but I will still do my best to research the answers so you don't have to, and tag/cite/refer you to people, books, or other knowledge sources that have more answers and experience than I do if I can't.

So, what more is there to know about writing and portraying horses? I'll just get started off the top of my head with some of the most frequent additions other tumblr horse folk have been hollerin' at me about, and with good reason, because you guys were right to point out what you did and really got me thinking!

-Spurs: My Second Take. In my original post, I voiced my personal distaste for the use of spurs in riding. Spurs, for those who don't know, were traditionally made as sharp metal pinwheels that attached to the back of riding boots for enhanced communication between the rider and the horse, much like how riding crops are used. I, personally, have had a lot of bad experiences seeing riders misuse spurs to hurt horses that I cared for as a stable hand and genuinely loved, and so I've been very shut down about the topic of spurs for many years.

Several people spoke up in defense of spurs as riding and communication tools, and I honestly believe that you guys were very on-point and made some great arguments: Spurs are only as harmful to horses as the intent the rider has in applying them, and I didn't have enough updated information about the different types of spurs that can be used nowadays that are not designed to be sharp or uncomfortable for the horse! I always grew up around traditional Cowboy-style spurs, which are sharp, stabby, star-shaped wheels, and can wound a horse and draw blood if used too aggressively. Tragically, most inexperienced and newer riders will use spurs too forcefully and wind up hurting the horse, and it's largely because new riders are inherently scared of riding, and over-rely on tools like spurs and crops rather than trust the horse to know what it's doing and be intelligent enough to know how to care for a human rider's safety.

Now, I've since learned that there are spurs with rubber wheels, blunted tips like those on the ends of safety-fencing foils, round metal bumpers instead of spurs at all, and even spurs that sport rotating metal balls that just feel (to the horse) like someone rolling a large ball-point pen over their sides, and more! So, to those of you that spoke up in tags and comments, thank you for doing so in a way that got me to open my own mind and check myself and my bad memories. You guys taught me something really cool and valuable that genuinely changed my perspective and opinions, and that's a really good thing!

-A Group Of Zombies/Unarmed Humans Can Take Down A Healthy Adult Horse. This is specifically aimed at The Walking Dead, but... yeah, you know the second episode when Rick rides a horse into the zombie-overrun Atlanta and the only way he's able to survive is when the zombies are distracted taking down and eating his obviously-jello-and-rubber horse?

Yeah, no. That is not how it would happen. At all. I think any biologists in the audience would back me up on that.

See, horses are prey animals, and they are herbivores. We're often used to thinking of herbivorous prey animals as shy, retiring, vulnerable animals that will simply keel over and die of fright when cornered by a predator. In reality, the opposite is often the case! Predatory animals tend to be much more shy, and much more cautious with their physical safety and wellbeing than prey animals tend to be, and that's usually because predators need to be able to remain uninjured and able-bodied enough to hunt again later, or else they and their babies may starve to death. Prey animals, especially herbivores, have evolved to deal with being hunted, and inherently don't need to be quite as healthy and able-bodied as a predator in order to avoid starving in the wild. Grass and leaves don't run away or try to fight back (unless it's like, poison oak or something), so an herbivore can generally recover from more environmental beatings than a predator typically can.

When cornered, horses very often only understand one thing: Murder. That's why you need horse whisperers and stable hands that know how to "gentle" a panicked horse as essential personnel at boarding and teaching ranches. While a horse can absolutely love and adore even the smallest of children and never harm them (at least intentionally - accidents happen), they can and absolutely will kill in order to defend themselves if running isn't an option. Horses can kick with up to 2,000lbs/907kg of force with their back legs. That's enough to break bones, shatter skulls, insta-kill grown men, and if you're kicked in the chest? Cause spontaneous cardiac arrest. Horses kick so hard and so fast they can literally make your heart stop from the speed and force of the impact alone: not from tissue damage. Horses will also paw and stomp with their front hooves until the Threatening Thing is effectively a mincemeat pancake, bite hard enough to take off fingers and hands, and can even cat-jump into the air off all four hooves in order to kick outward with all four legs at once. Spanish cavalry officers traditionally trained their horses to cat-jump on command in order to prevent them and their horse from being surrounded by footsoldiers in battle.

Horses will also use their body weight to roll, crush, scrape, and flatten anything or anyone that they don't want holding onto them. They will use environmental objects like trees, fences, or the corners of buildings to scrape unwanted hangers-on off into bloody smears (my mom's horse actually did this to a guy twice and he wound up in the ER with severe lacerations, bruises, splinters, and worse). Basically: a horse will use its entire body and the weight that comes with it as well as the entire world around it to fucking OBLITERATE anything they see as an unavoidable threat to their safety.

Without heavy-duty ropes, weapons, or tools, a group of adult, living, human men the size of football (the fake kind) linebackers wouldn't be able to successfully wrestle a fully-grown, panicked horse to the ground, much less a bunch of undead, mostly-decomposing zombies that only know how to bite and scratch. The horse Rick is riding on looks like it's probably a Quarterhorse, too. Quarterhorses are very sturdy, moderately-sized breeds that are also the iconic Cowboy Horse. They're tough, they're brave, they're hearty, and if they snap, they can and will kill both other animals and humans.

A horse's skin is so thick and tough that it's virtually impossible for a human to successfully bite or scratch hard enough to puncture through their outer dermal layers. As stable hands, a regular tool we use for getting mud out of a horse's hair is a literal metal wire brush that can rip open our skin if we try to use them, but the horses lean into them without even a hint of damage to their skin from doing so. There may be some tiny welts and a little bit of blood if a human tries to claw and bite at a horse, but horses do far worse to each other when they're just playing! Our fingernails and jaw muscles just aren't strong enough to do much damage to a healthy horse's skin.

-Horses aren't domestic animals.

...Yes they are. But just like other domestic animals, there can be wild populations of them that have had little or no human contact or intervention. Genetically speaking, however, horses are indeed domesticated. They're large domestic animals , but they are very much domesticated. Humans have been working alongside horses for at least 6,000 years. Domestic cats have only been domesticated for about 10,000 years. Truly wild horses in herds today, sadly, are pretty much 100% descended from domesticated horses. The recently-reintroduced-to-the-wild Przewalski's Horse is probably the closest genetic link to the original wild horses native to what are now modern Mongolia and Kazakhstan. Even the revered American Mustang is the product of domestication and planned breeding practices by both white colonists and Indigenous Americans over thousands of years, but Indigenous Americans were capable of maintaining a healthy balance between their personal horses and the essential need for herds of wild horses for the environment, too. White colonists did not understand this and intentionally stripped the North American frontier of its herds of wild horses, and are the primary reason the Mustang is only recently reappearing in wild herds in North America.

Sheep are domestic animals. Cows are domestic animals. Goats are domestic animals. Just because an animal has hooves and doesn't usually live in your house with you does not mean it isn't domesticated: You've just never had to live in an environment where they're essential to daily life or considered welcome companions, so they seem more like wild animals than cats and dogs. Hundreds of years ago, before modern building techniques created houses that could stay sustainably warm year-round, it was very normal for families to bring in cattle as large as horses and cows into their homes and sleep in the same rooms together for security and warmth, dookie and all (horse and cow poop doesn't smell as rank as dog or cat poo; they're herbivores, so it just doesn't smell as foul, and happens to make very good fuel for the fire). We don't do that anymore for health and safety reasons, and so horses, among other farmyard and "rural" domestic animals have become increasingly alienated from most people's psyches as being animals just as capable of being pets as your dog or cat.

-You can calculate how long a horse can run or work every day. This one is largely in response to some well-meaning questions I got from anons that seemed to want me to give them precise hourly work rates and mileage horses can tolerate. I was frustrated by questions like this, because it's a really cool subject to discuss, but not an easy question to answer. Horses are not machines, and "horsepower" is a unit of measurement derived from horses - not applied to them. "Horsepower" is a term used in machinery like tractors and cars. The total horsepower of your average horse is... well, 1, because that's how many horses a single horse can be without getting into some Welcome To Night Vale shit, which I'd love to do, but is a bit too far off topic for this particular post.

A horse's capacity to work or travel is heavily determined by outside factors, as well as organic factors in regards to the individual horse. How old is the horse? How heavy is it? How heavy is the rider? Is it also carrying cargo, like armor and camping supplies? Is it working on a farm and pulling a plow? If so, what quality is the soil? Has it been plowed before? Does the farmer own more than one horse? Is it hot outside? Is the horse going up and downhill? Is it fly season? Is the ground rocky? Are there burrowing animals in the area? Is there clay in the soil? Did it rain recently? How well-kept are the roads? Are there roads to use? What time of year is it- Aaaaaaah!

Ultimately, the answer is: A horse can work as long as it's willing to, and as long as its owner/handler judges is safe for the horse. A horse may be able to pull an old-fashioned plow through well-tilled soil for most of a cool morning before needing a break to cool down, eat, and rehydrate. It takes the judgment of the person commanding the horse when to call for a break or a full-stop to working for that horse by observing how tired it is (is it panting? Sweating? Slowing down? Are there any signs of strain in the hooves or legs?) or if it's in any way injured or in pain. The same applies with traveling long distances: It's up to the rider's judgment and how forgiving the environment is on the horse's body. In some cases, a riding horse may not be able to be ridden safely if the road is too treacherous or uneven for the horse to handle balancing its own weight and the rider's. In those cases, it's better for the rider to get off the horse and gently lead them through the bad terrain until it smooths out.

Also... horses can just... choose to quit. Some are quite sassy or very clear about their boundaries, and if they don't feel motivated or get too bored, they won't cooperate at all. The only way to deal with this is by letting them go do their own thing in the paddock until they decide they wanna cooperate again. Abusive people my try to whip or spur a horse into working past its limits, but humane people just let the guys take a break.

-Two adult people can ride on the same horse for a long time. GOD NO. PLEASE GOD NO. DO NOT DO THIS. PLEASE DO NOT EVER, EVER DO THIS.

Horses can only safely carry a maximum of about 30% of their total body weight on their backs without risking severe spinal damage, if not a broken spine altogether. A Thoroughbred - the iconic racing horse - typically maxes out at about 1,000lbs total in weight as an adult. Thoroughbreds are fairly tall compared to other fast, hot-blooded horses, like Arabians. That means that, at best, a perfectly healthy, not-too-old, not-too-young Thoroughbred horse would not be able to carry a total weight of more than about 450lbs, including the weight of its saddle and other tack, supplies carried by the rider, armor or other gear worn by the rider, and the impacts of gravity and the shocks of the rider's weight on the horse's back when it's moving at any speed. In the vast majority of cases, two adults cannot safely ride on the same horse for more than a very short distance before the horse enters the danger-zone for suffering severe and permanent spinal damage that can result in euthanasia. An adult carrying a baby or toddler is different, but two adults? Please don't. Please. Even if you're getting married and the owner of the super-huge pretty draft horse you're renting to take a gallant shared ride with your spouse with for pictures that reassures you it's fine, do not do it. Please just rent a carriage or pay extra for two horses. Please.

-A paddock with grass is all a horse needs to meet its nutritional needs. If that were true, horses would still be kept as pets more commonly around the world than they actually are. Unfortunately, to really thrive in the wild, horses need hundreds, if not thousands, of hectares of territory they can freely travel around in, while most paddocks are rarely larger than 10-20 acres when you're not talking about generational wealth or land. One of the reasons domestically-raised horses are almost entirely dependent on humans for food is due to the restricted spaces they're kept in. Grass only produces nutrition when the soil itself is fertile, and we humans don't necessarily have the natural ability to sense when soil is too nutrient-deprived for the plant life growing from it to be enough to provide just one horse with the vitamins and minerals they need on a daily basis to be healthy.

Another fact largely lost to history is that, back when most families had to farm to survive, farmers would store green leaves from various healthy and tasty trees and bushes in the boughs of other trees within their cattle paddocks and fields. By doing this, it kept large amounts of pests like rats from infesting the leaves, and keeping the cut branches and leaves stored within other leafy trees actually kept the greens fresher much longer than if they were stored on the ground or in a storage room. Horses would then graze from the leaves in the trees above their heads as well as the grass.

Stable hands and private owners keep rigorous dietary routines tailored to the needs of each individual horse. We're usually up and feeding the horses by dawn at the latest. The horses are usually given a few scoops of oats (not too much, because oats bloat up when they absorb liquid, and too much of that can give a horse colic), carrots and other vegetables for extra vitamins, salt licks (which are infused with extra minerals like a giant multivitamin), and even vitamin tablets/powder that goes straight into their dinner hay or alfalfa. Vets are essential for evaluating a horse's specific nutritional needs, so horses can actually get "prescriptions" for specific ingredients in their regular meals given to us from licensed large animal veterinarians, and not just a wealthy owner's best guess.

-Horses can throw up. Nope! It's not even physically possible for a horse to spit up food! That's part of why stable hands and owners have to be so careful in maintaining a regular, stable, healthy diet for their horses and keep their pastures and paddocks checked for toxic substances like poisonous plants that a horse may not know is toxic, or notice in the grass it's munching on.

Because they have such long necks and tall legs, horses need special muscles in their upper GI tracts in order to graze and drink water without constantly choking and fighting gravity. By having an esophagus that's one-way-only, as well as a muscle that clamps their stomachs shut at the top called a French Tie, horses hold down anything they swallow, even if it's enough to kill them.

-Horses are the best farm animals for a pre-industrial setting. Goodness no! Not at all! In fact, horses didn't start really replacing oxen on farms until the dawn of Draft Horses in the Victorian Era in the West. While many Eastern countries still retain the use of oxen for farming, Western European farmers fell prey to what we all dread: Peer pressure.

When Draft Horses started to appear in the scene in formal horse fancier associations, they were readily advertised as being excellent replacements for oxen (neutered male cows; so, a bull that has no balls). Oxen can be very stubborn, yet affectionate animals, and newer farmers often struggle more with handling oxen compared to horses. The Victorian Era saw a small boom in private farms, and so there became an increasing demand for "easy" farm cattle for newbie farmers to employ.

The other factor that played into horses replacing oxen in Western farming was clout. Horses are more expensive than oxen and generally seen as more prestigious to own. So, farmers often wound up "upgrading" from oxen to horses when their financial means allowed them to. The problem was that, in order to do the same amount of farm work with horses, you need more horses to replace exhausted or injured horses throughout each working day compared to how many more oxen you need to swap out throughout a day of heavy labor. But, nonetheless, horses took over for being "more trainable" and "more intelligent" than oxen (admittedly, oxen can be trickier to work with, but that does NOT mean that horses do a better job at hard field labor), and the Western oxen training industry has almost completely gone extinct.

Really, oxen do a lot better at extremely heavy jobs like tilling and plowing soil for growing crops and hauling large, heavy weights. Because oxen have cloven (two) hooves, they're a lot better at gripping the terrain and avoiding injury to their feet when they're working hard at awkward angles or on rough terrain. Oxen also pack on a lot more muscle and fat around their entire bodies, and so they have fewer vulnerable zones that can become irreparably damaged from exerting a lot of muscle power. Horses, only having a single hoof, can be rendered completely incapable of working or even running just from fracturing a hoof or stepping on a sharp object, like a nail.

-Any leg injury means instant euthanasia. No! No, no, no! There are lots of ways to treat a variety of injuries and illnesses that present in a horse's leg or foot. Especially nowadays, thanks to advances in all forms of prosthetics and 3D printing, horses are euthanized less and less for increasingly severe leg injuries courtesy of prosthetics and mobility aids! Some advances have been made so far that a horse that loses the lower portion of its leg can live a healthy life with a prosthetic!

Don't believe me?

Even in history, there have been treatments for leg and foot ailments for horses used before any talk of euthanasia is brought up. Remember: horses are often beloved service animals to people, today and a thousand years ago! Would you jump straight to euthanizing not only your best friend, but your primary mode of transport, as well as your extraordinarily-expensive ESA?

It's only in cases of severe breaks in a leg bone that injury-related euthanasia is discussed for a horse. Smaller fractures and hoof damage can actually be treated and healed, especially with modern veterinary science, and some fractures can be so successfully treated that a horse can return to riding and competing after recovering!

-Bits are cruel.

Look. There's one person that raked me over the coals in the replies for being ignorant in espousing bits as essential parts of a horse's bridle. I know who you are, and honestly, I feel the compassion you have for the animals... but you're still sipping a little much from PETA's kool-aid and did not convince me over to your side.

Yes, there are bridles that do not require bits to control a horse's head and communicate with it. Yes, there are riders that prefer them, and there are horses that can only be ridden with them due to bad experiences with bit-training or past dental problems. No, it's not cool to tut your fucking finger at me and call me ignorant when I assert that it's a very normal, standard part of tacking up and riding a horse, and the worst a bit can do is pinch the corner of a horse's lip or tongue if you are a jerk with your rein-etiquette. There are bits, just like I observed with spurs, that are specifically designed not to hurt or cause any distress to the horse, so if the person that dumped on me in the last post reads this one: Calm the fuck down and go take yourself on a walk along with your horse. Have an apple. You've clearly been in your stall too long.

As I was saying: Yes, there are different kinds of bits that are specifically designed not to harm a horse. Sometimes horses with smaller mouths or wrinklier lips (it's a thing) can have a hard time with specific bits due many of them sporting hinges where they wrap around out of the horse's mouth and connect to the bridle. This can be easily addressed by switching to a different kind of bit that's less harsh and more flexible for the sake of a horse's comfort, or getting rid of a bit altogether and swapping to bitless bridles. Ironically, I've met horses that actually stim with their bridles; they play with the bits with their tongues when they're excited before an event, kinda like they're grinding their teeth.

And yes, some horses can still have bad sensory issues with bits, and can need bitless bridles, and that's okay! The important thing about bridles in general is that they're the primary way a rider can communicate with the horse's head and show them where they want to go. As with riding, horses tend to go in the direction their heads are facing; they don't usually walk while looking sideways, but rather stand still to look sideways before turning back to the direction they want to go in to walk or run. A lot of riders are taught the phrase, "Head like a princess, hips like a whore," as a reminder to keep their hips loose and moving with the horse, but their heads focusing on where they want the horse to go, rather than looking at the scenery. Most riders, even those that are very experienced, can get distracted and accidentally put a little too much pressure on the horse's bridle and side in the direction of where they're looking, and that causes the horse to go off course, too.

-Horseshoes are incredibly painful and must be replaced only when absolutely necessary. Not at all! A horse's hoof is basically like a gigantic fingernail. While the inner core of the hoof, which is typically concave with a V shape in the middle and needs cleaning by stable hands on a regular basis to keep gunk, debris, and dangerous stuff like nails out of their feet is vulnerable to pain and injury, the rest of the hoof is literally a giant fingernail! A ferrier specializes at grooming a horse's hooves and trimming them so they don't overgrow (which can happen if they spend a lot of time on soft surfaces like grass), and many ferriers also specialize at setting and replacing horseshoes. A horseshoe specifically sits around the outer edge of a horse's hoof - specifically where a hoof is least sensitive and most likely to split or become damaged while riding and lead to infection and pain later - where the horse has no nerve endings. The nails that go into the horseshoe to hold it in place are actually very short and narrow at the tips, and only go into the solid nail a couple of inches into that same nerveless outer edge. The shortest horseshoe nails I've seen used are only 1.5 inches, or 4cm, and the largest around 2 inches, or 5cm and the worst a horse feels when a shoe is being set or replaced is a dull thudding from the tapping of the small hammer used to set the nails. A horse can literally go right back to business after their shoes are fitted, although a ferrier may recommend having them spend some quiet time in their stall for a couple of hours to really make sure the shoes are set properly and the horse is comfortable if something like a trip caused the original shoe to come off (the technical term is "casting a shoe").

My evening meds are kicking in, so I'll stop this very, very long sequel here.

As before, feel free to send me asks with more questions. I'm sure there are even more things I'm too sleepy to remember right now, and this post is running incredibly long.

[aekatty]

melt my heart ₊˚ʚ 🧊 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

a/n: been rewatching fairy tail and i forgot how FOINE that man is aaaa also my friends requested this teehee also srry for long wait lmao

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

!!! series !!!

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

18+ !! MINORS DNI

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

cw: readers lowk a bitch but they’ll get a redemption trustt, multiple flashbacks, angst, enemies to lovers, eventual smut, female anatomy, slight religious references but mostly used to emphasize a point yada yada

tags ✮⋆˙  afab!reader x gray, enemies to lover, eventual smut, angst

now playing: i'll kill you - summer walker ft. jhené aiko

❅ chapter 1: i'll kill you ❅

You had gotten tired of the endless running. The feeling of your lungs giving out as you neared your limit, the sweat running down your forehead as you climbed upon the stone rubble. The smell of blood and smoke flooded your senses. Have the gods forsaken us? You watched in horror as the village was engulfed in chaos by the cursed demon known as Deliora.

“Help me! Someone, anyone! Please!” You felt your lungs ache as you screamed in desperation.

You felt the vibrations of the demon’s heavy steps become stronger, causing you to hide under the fallen walls of a building. The dark growl of Deliora caused shivers to run down your spine.

“I’m scared…” A lump formed in your throat.

Tears spilled down your apple cheeks before the sound of yelling caught your attention. You peeked from your hiding place to see a…boy? He looked to be your age, black hair while supporting a white parka. Now that you got a better luck at him, you remembered seeing him along with a lady and a boy with white hair around him in your village. He was usually accompanied by a woman with dark hair and a boy his age with silver hair. You were always jealous of him, considering you were left an orphanage as a baby— You looked towards the left to see the back of Deliora in a close distance. This kid is standing right behind THE Deliora! You wanted to call for him but stopped yourself in fear of being caught. The situation is life or death, it would be foolish to save someone who puts their own life in the line. All you could do was watch.

That same woman who’s always around him appeared. Except, she’s wearing an ice prosthetic in place of her right leg. The spiky silver haired boy was laid out on the ground unconscious.

“Take Lyon with you, I can’t risk the two of you getting hurt,” she looked at him somberly.

“No! I’m not leaving you! Ur, please-”

“Ur, don’t go!” Your eyes widened as you watched the white haired boy stand up on his own.

“Lyon-”

“I was trained by one of the best wizards to exist, I can defeat Deliora!”

She clenched her teeth, “It’s too powerful even for me!”

“Just trust me!” The boy with white hair readies his stance by crossing his arms.

“That’s Iced Shell! Where did you learn that spell?!” The raven haired woman watched in horror.

“I went to the storehouse and read all your books since you refuse to teach us powerful spells!”

“Lyon, do you know what happens to the caster of that spell?!”

Your eyes widened at the scene unfolding in front of you. The intensity of the spell had alerted the large demon, causing him to to turn around and notice them. “What is he doing?! Deliora’s gonna kill them for sure!” You bit your nails from anticipation.

Before the boy could fully perform the spell, he had quickly been encased in an ice sculpture. His movements frozen in place by the raven haired lady. “I can’t let you do that…”

“Ur, please…”

You watched the lady and the black haired boy exchange a few words before getting into the same stance as the boy encased in ice.

“Iced shell!”

You felt your heart race as you watched the brave woman cast the powerful ice spell to seal the demon away. Could this be the end of Deliora’s chaos? Slowly but surely, the woman’s body had started to deteriorate the longer she casted the risky spell, yet it seemed to be successful in sealing Deliora’s body.

After its body had been fully encased in the ice barrier, you diverted your attention back to the woman, her body slowly withering away. The black haired boy teared up as he watched his beloved teacher become one with the iced shell.

You bit your lip as you watch the boy sob nonstop as he called for his teacher’s name. You couldn’t understand it, all you felt was nothing but rage. You cursed the gods for leaving you fruitless. That boy had someone to look after him and his foolishness killed her. Meanwhile, your parents dumped you into an orphanage, leaving you with nothing. You fixed your own wounds, scavenged your own meals, and took up risky jobs for a few jewels. You even learned Lava magic by yourself! This boy had everything. A loving parental figure, a roof over his head, and proper education to hone his magic.

And you despised him for it.

You fled the scene before you could watch whatever happened next, kicking a few rocks out of frustration in the process. You swore the next time you saw him, you were going to beat the living hell out of him. “I really hate that boy,” you muttered under your breath.

You grabbed a map out of your pocket, unfolding it onto a smooth to piece of fallen concrete. “I can’t be here for any longer, I’m getting outta here.” You decided to scavenge up enough jewels to leave the wretched place that was once your home. After all, there was no use for you staying here anyways. And most of all, you didn’t want to see the face of that boy again.

You traced your dusty index finger along the tattered paper before landing on a specific region.

“This is it!”

———

Years after Deliora's invasion, you acquired enough jewels to board a ship bound for Magnolia, a trading center in the Kingdom of Fiore. You had grown enamored with the bustling populace, the pathways crowded with vendors and children running around with toys. Your senses are continuously being tricked by the aroma of freshly made bread from the local bakery. You were in complete wonder of the gorgeous city and its stark contrast to your once little village. You've practically called this your new home.

And a new home means new opportunities! You ended up joining Fairy Tail, the most formidable guild in Fiore! A day spent at the guild is never dull since you’re constantly surrounded by kind individuals who genuinely care about you. Not to mention, it wasn’t unusual for brawls to break out every other week in the hall. It was no surprise to Makarov when you became a member of the guild at such a young age— you weren’t the only one, after all.

There is always terrible in addition to the good…

Maybe, just maybe, God or whatever heavenly force that resided in the sky would take pity on you. You’re already a starving wizard taking up jobs to pay off your own rent. You had your own problems and you can barely take care of yourself. But hey! God decided to send you a problem in the form of flesh and blood. Black hair, shirtless, ice wizard…

“Oh…you’re still here?” You dropped your messenger bag onto the table.

Gray rolled his eyes at your derogatory question, “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Your face contorted into an expression of disgust, “I was hoping you had left Fairy Tail by now so that I wouldn’t be able to see your face. Or even better, a giant toad could swallow you and digest you into nothing but bones.”

He smirked at your snickering, “Well that’s too bad, cause i’m not going anywhere.” You really hated that stupid smirk he gave you. It was like he was mocking you…

“Oh, yeah, you’re right. Cause you can’t do jack shit to save yourself,” you snickered.

He clenched his fist before getting up and walking towards you, “What’d you say to me?!” Mist seeping from his palms as he felt his temper rise.

“I said your ass can’t do shit to save yourself,” you laughed.

Before you could land another joke on him, you find yourself slammed to the wall by a huge block of ice. The warm red liquid trickled down your nose, irony and salty as you licked it off your lips, “Can’t take a joke, ice boy?”

You shoot hot magma arrows towards him before he dodged it, destroying the wooden furniture nearby in the process. He created a bow and arrow out of ice before shooting them towards you. Luckily you shielded yourself with hardened lava before you could pierced by them. As you bent the lava at your will, you felt a shard of ice knick you at the cheek, causing a drop of blood to trickle down it.

You dramatically gasped, “How dare you! I was supposed to be modeling for Sorcerer’s Weekly this week!”

He smirked, “It’s not like your face was pretty to begin with, lava witch.”

You flicked a droplet of lava on him, causing him to whince in pain before cooling the small burn wound with his magic, “Come on, [Name], revenge is so last year.” A sarcastic tone in his voice.

You wiped the blood off your face, “Oh please, don’t act like no one would want to date an ugly ice troll like you.” You stuck your tongue at him.

He rolled his eyes before continuing to use his ice maker magic against you, in return you employed your lava magic to defend yourself.

The both of you were too caught up in the fight to focus on the master’s screams as he begged the both you guys to halt your magic attacks on each other to prevent the destruction of the guild hall.

Before the both of you could land the finishing blow on eachother, you felt tight grip on your shoulder before looking up to see the red headed S-class wizard, a grimaced look painted on her face.

“Sorry, Ezra.”

“Sorry, Erza.”

You both spoke monotonously with a hint of fear in your voices.

“Master is not too happy with the destruction of the hall! The next time you idiots start bickering again, I’m gonna smash your heads into the wall until it’s nothing but soup!” She tightens her grip causing your shoulder to start aching in the process.

“Ok, ok! we get it! Just stop that! Ow!”

Before furthering any damage on your shoulder, she lets the both of you go before heavily sighing, “Since you both are done arguing, Mira wanted to speak to the both of you guys.”

You and Gray look at each other confused before walking towards the bar, you saw a drunken yet horrified master sitting on the counter as the silver haired beauty pours him another cup of booze, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

“Lovely morning to the both of you,” she giggles as she hands the wooden cup of booze to the master.

“And good morning to you too, Mira,” you smile back.

Gray stays silent with his arms crossed before you hit him lightly on the arm to alert him, “Hey- Morning to you too, Mira.”

She giggles again with her high pitched voice before tucking her silver hair over her ear, “Well, master was gonna tell you guys something but he got so stressed from the both of you almost destroying the guildhall that he drank himself nonverbal.” Right after saying that, you look over to see Makarov burbling random gibberish as he clutched the wooden cup handle.

She softly rubs circles onto the hiccuping master before turning her attention back towards you and Gray again, “There’s a job offer regarding the safety of a town nearby an active volcano. The volcano hasn’t been active for 1000 years but recently, the townsfolk have become concerned with loud rumbling coming from it. And since you guys are both lava and ice wizards…”

“Absolutely not. I’m not going with ice stripper here. And can’t you ask Natsu for help on this?”

Gray rolled his eyes at your nickname, “Not my fault my rock hard abs need air.”

“Never say that again,” your face grimaced.

“You know you like it, [Name].” He teases you.

You made a ‘barfing gesture’ at his comment, “Not in a million years, Fullbuster.”

She sighed, “Unfortunately, Natsu already stepped out with Happy since they’re still on that quest to find Igneel.”

“Of course he is,” you face palmed. You groaned as you pinch the bridge of your nose before looking up at Mira again, “Fine, i’ll do the damn job.”

“Awesome! I’ll mark this quest claimed by the both of ya’ll. And do try to get along while you’re at it…you’re kind of responsible for the lives of an entire town so don’t forget that!” She smiles.

Gray smirks before getting close to your ear, the warmness of his breath hitting your ear, “Don’t forget, we’re splitting the reward, lava witch.”

You rolled your eyes before turning your head towards him, “Duh.”

————

Two years after leaving your village…

You squealed as you glided your hand over the distinct mark of Fairy Tail on your arm, a symbol of your initiation into the guild. As you happily trotted down the guildhall, you felt someone tap your shoulder. In response, you turned around as you focused your attention towards a boy with pink hair wearing a scale-designed scarf.

“Hey, you’re that girl that just joined our guild! Welcome to Fairy Tail uhhh…”

“[Name]. My name is [Name],” you giggled.

He smiled cheekily, “Nice to meet you, [Name]. Name’s Natsu, I’m a fire wizard- wait no. A fire DRAGON-SLAYER, and this is my companion, Happy.”

“Aye!” The blue winged cat exclaimed in a high-pitched voice as he waved at you.

“Say, how old are ya and what type of magic you got? I hope you’re strong cause i’m looking for a sparring partner who’s tough enough to beat me!” The pink-haired boy slammed his fist towards his hand.

You smirked at his fiery spirit before you decided to boast about yourself, “Mmm I’m ten and I’m a lava wizard. Ten is practically an adult so I can drink beer anytime I want.”

The boy looked at you with amazement, “WHOAAA, that’s so cool. Once I reach double digits, i’m gonna drink beer everyday and then I’ll be able to beat Guildarts!”

“And I know I said we should spar against eachother but since we both work with heat…I say we work together to defeat that stupid ice wizard, Gra-” Before Natsu could finish his sentence, a block of ice appeared out of nowhere, crushing the boy under it.

“OW! What the eff, Gray!” He cried out in anger as fire escaped his mouth.

You turn your attention towards the culprit, he was about the same age as you and Natsu. Black hair, Fairy Tail mark on his shirtless torso, a snarky expression on his face. You stood there frozen in shock and disgust. The boy from the village.

“Your voice was getting annoying so I was trying to shut you up,” he yawned with a nonchalant look on his face.

Suddenly, he saw you standing next to the loud pink-haired boy before walking over to you, a smirk painted on his face.

“Sup, name’s Gray Fullbuster. You’re the new girl in our guild, huh? Saw you from over there and uh-”

“Hey, Gray! Stop flirting with my new teammate and go away!” Flames still erupting from the pink-haired boy’s mouth.

“IM NOT FLIRTING! I’m just trying to get to know her…” The black-haired boy looked away as he awkwardly scratched his neck, a red hue creeping onto his cheeks.

He returns to his usual stance before using that same smirk on you again, “I’m an ice-maker user, it’s pretty cool, no pun intended. So how bout you ditch this loser and join my te-”

“I would rather burn myself in my own lava then join forces with you.”

The smirk on his face faltered as he looked at you in disbelief, “Excuse me?”

“Yeah, no, looking at you made me automatically dislike you. Can you at least have some type of decorum? Or are you a pervert in training?” You look at him up and down as you roll your eyes.

The boy’s cheeks become redder than before as he looks down on his lack of attire, “Not my fault it’s become a habit! I learned it from training in the mountains with my master!”

You scoff, “Yea, whatever, ice boy. I taught myself on how to use lava magic. No master needed.”

“Well, MY master was like the greatest ice-maker wizard to exist. AND she had the potential to become a wizard saint, BEAT THAT!” He smirks at you.

You felt your temper rise as you puff your cheeks out in anger, “Well some of us didn’t have the privilege of having a ‘master’ to teach us ‘cool magic tricks.’ Some of us had to work our way to the top on our own!”

He scoffed before crossing his arms, “Calm down, lava witch-”

“Lava witch?!”

“Yeah, cause you look like one and act like one!” He angrily pushed you.

“Ok then, how bout I call you an ice troll! Cause you’re dumb and ugly!” You pushed him back.

“IM NOT DUMB AND UGLY!”

You laughed at his reaction, “Whatever floats your boat, ice troll!”

He felt his eye twitch, “What’s your problem with me?! All I wanted was to say hi and now you’re picking a fight with me!”

You cross your arms before getting close to his face, looking him up and down, “Hmm let’s see…you’re ugly, short, a pervert, and you’re dependent.”

“Now you’re just being a bully!”

“Well, sometimes it’s needed.”

“I’m gonna kick your ass!” He rolled up his non-existent sleeves.

“Not if I kick yours first!”

As master Makarov took another swig of his booze, he heard yelling and hitting behind him before sighing and placing the wooden beer cup on the bar counter.

“Not even her first full day and already getting into a fight with the ice wizard…As if him and Natsu weren’t annoying already. I swear this boy makes enemies too easily.” He hiccuped.

“It’s ice-maker magic, dipshit!” The boy shouted as he pulled your hair.

“CONTROL YOUR MOUTH, BOY!” Makarov shouted back.

“Can someone get this stupid block of ice off me! I wanna join!” The pink-haired boy still struggling to push the block of ice off him.

Ice and lava is never a good mix…

[veronicaphoenix]

Chapter tags & trigger warnings: angst, references to sexual content, references to alcohol, hard truths. | Word count: 2.1k | Cross posted on AO3. | Series masterpost. ✧.*

General trigger warnings: This work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction and violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

Watching her go was hard enough as it was, but as I turned around from the door, I found myself in an empty house. 

            At least, that’s how it felt, and it only helped to make my suffering worse.

            Lia left. Of course she did. But I didn’t expect her absence to hit me so hard. 

            As I walked around the house replaying images from last night and from the weeks before, I realized that my room didn’t feel like my room anymore. There was no trace of Lia’s figure in the bed, no shape of her. Her boots were gone. The book she used to keep in the armchair by the window, where she spent hours reading, also gone. The drawers I had cleared for her were empty. No socks, no underwear, no oversized t-shirts that were mine. I could picture her clearly on my bed, curled up on her side and asking me to stay those nights she was tormented with nightmares, and smiling at me in the morning through sleepy eyes, and telling me that I talked in my sleep. Her laugh would fill the room, but now there was only silence. 

            In the bathroom ensuite, I could still smell her perfume. She forgot her soap in the shower rack, and some of her clothes were still in the laundry basket. My toothbrush felt as lonely as I did, missing the company of Lia’s bamboo toothbrush. I could even spot some of her hairs on the bathroom floors. I felt pathetic. 

            I was already missing her complaints about us boys leaving dirty socks everywhere in the house, and her and Jolly’s constant arguments because she had spent too much time in the shower and we had ran out of hot water. I missed the way she would sort out the cushions in the sofa after movie night, and the sound of her tiptoes barefoot every time she came to the studio to check on me and make sure I wasn’t overworking myself.

            It ate my heart out entering the studio that day and sorting it out. Lia was everywhere. When I touched the bedsheets, I felt her fingertips on my back, her lips on mine, her legs around my hips. 

            The coughing started then, right as I pulled the bedsheets out and threw them in the hallway. 

            I was in such deep shit. 

            Jolly stood at the end of the hallway, looking at me as if diagnosing me. 

            “She left, didn’t she?” His voice was static, devoid of emotion, but just as I couldn’t fool him, he couldn’t fool me. He would willingly take cold showers if that meant Lia would come back.

            “She left.”

            “Fuck.”

            I wondered then if I would drag him and the rest of the boys into the pit hole I was in, too, and fuck up everything we had built together, just like Lia had predicted would happen if she stayed. We were all a family, and one’s hurting was everybody’s hurting. 

            “Did you try talking to her?”

            “Did I try?” I repeated with anger and disbelief, doing an effort to hold back my cough. “I fucking begged her to stay. I gave her every single option there was.”

            “Including the one in which you tell her you love her?”

            “Drop it, Jolly.” My jaw was throbbing. I was tempted to knock down anything I could find on my way. “If she can’t stand the thought of us fucking, how do you think she’d feel about that?”

            I saw Jolly struggling, trying to come to terms with the harsh truth. His hopes had no place here, and I didn’t want them either. 

            “Where did she go?”

            “To her apartment.”

            “How was she?”

            He didn’t want to know if she was okay or not. It was implicit that she was disappointed and upset. He wanted to know if she was still drunk, confused, disoriented. I told him she had taken a shower and an ibuprofen. Luckily, she hadn’t taken anything else because she was aware that she had to drive to her apartment, and it would be a reckless thing to do under the influence of benzodiazepine. Nevertheless, she had taken all her medication with her, and that worried the fuck out of me. 

            I had seen her come from the kitchen holding her two favorite mugs in the fingers of one hand. At the time, I was sitting on the floor by my bedroom, and Lia told me to stand up. I followed inside the room, but we didn’t say anything. I just stood there in the threshold watching her pack her thing with a mask on, no emotions leaking from her eyes and streaming down her face. No anger, no sadness. She was on autopilot until she reached the main door thirty minutes later and I called her name one more time. 

            When she turned to me, her eyes were watery again, still red, and her lower lip trembled. 

            “Don’t go.” 

            She wanted to stay, but she had to go, and she implored me with her big brown eyes to not make it any more difficult, for both our sakes. 

            She shook her head, and she made a move towards the exit. A rift of wind blew in from the outside, through the open door, and a couple of cars drove through the road, oblivious to the turmoil spreading through the walls of the house.

            “Wait.”

            In her pain, she looked confused. I hurried over to the couch and grabbed one of my hoodies. It had been laying on the sofa for two days. Lia had worn it two nights ago, while we were watching Insidious and eating homemade ramen.  

            “Take it.”

            Handing it to her felt like giving up. 

            Her fingers brushed mine, and I was about to reach up and brush the strands of hair out of her face. But I didn’t.

            She didn’t say no. She took it with some hesitation, watching it as if she was aware that she was leaving me behind. Finally, she draped it over her arm and without further ado, walked out of the house and closed the door behind her.          

            I may have stood there frozen for minutes, or maybe it was hours. 

            In any case, the days that followed all seemed the same to me. They were a meaningless routine. I didn’t want to change my bedsheets for fear of Lia’s scent fading, and I refused to get rid of her soap bar in the shower. 

            Barely an hour after she left, I decided I was going to get her. There was no way I was going to let her deal with her bullshit on her own. She would have to get a grip on herself and deal with the consequences of what we did, but she would do it in this house, where she’d have people that loved her around to help her deal with the other undeserved crap in her life. 

            I made way towards the door, but Jolly grabbed my arm to stop me. 

            “Noah, it’s not a good idea. Give her some time.”

            “She can have some time here,” I argued. “She’s on medication. Someone needs to keep an eye on her.”

            “Then why the fuck did you let her get drunk last night knowing she cannot manage herself when she drinks?”

            I was on the brink of despair, and Jolly’s anger was just making me come to term with all the mistakes done the night before. 

            “We were so good… The last few days were wonderful. She seemed so… happy. She was so at peace when we were both in the studio, making music. Just like we used to before that motherfucker Mitch took her away. She even wrote two songs, and she did so many drawings and designs for the new merch. We spent hours in the garden. You should have seen her pulling weeds with those giants worn out gloves and planting all those seeds we bought at Target.” I smiled at the memory, and the smile nearly brought tears to my eyes. I had to pinch the bridge of my nose. “I thought she was getting better, that I was getting her to put what had happened to her behind…”

            “And all you did was fall more in love with her and blind yourself. You gave her what she wanted and not what she needed, which was to abstain from alcohol while she’s like this.” 

            A sob escaped from my chest. 

            “Don’t panic,” he said, grabbing my shoulders. “Give her some time. Me and the rest of the boys will keep an eye on her, you know that. And she’ll come around eventually. Lia needs you and…”

            My throat was dry, and it had started to itch after the first coughs. The fit that overcame me now made me bend forward and put a hand to my chest and another to my mouth. 

            “Oh, fuck no,” I heard Jolly mutter. He straightened up a bit before dropping his shoulders and dragging me to the kitchen, where he poured me a glass of water. “If you’re gonna fall sick again, we need to take you to the hospital right now. Last time was freaking serious, Noah.” 

            “That’s not… gonna help.” 

            The coughing went on and on. I tried to drink between coughs, aware that none of it would do anything to lessen the severity of my condition. If anything, it was just about to get worse. Jolly wasn’t on my side, although he himself had noticed the last few times I’d been sick that the coughing only dissipated and disappeared completely when Lia was around.  

            “What are you going to do then, huh? Die of pneumonia or whatever it is that’s wrong with you just because you can’t be with Lia? That’s mental, man.” 

            But it was the truth.

            That night, I would suffer from high fever, and my bed would be covered in coughed-up flowers. Lia would be lying on hers, alone, holding tight to her duvet. All I could think of to relieve myself was how fucking beautiful it had been to make love to her, even if it had damned us both. 

            At some point before midnight, there was a knock on the door and Jolly popped his head through the opening. 

            “Still don’t want me to call the doctor?”

            “No.” 

            We had an argument earlier about it. The day had been wonderful, to say the least, and Jolly was now forced to look after me until God knew when. 

            “Should I make you some ginger and lemon tea?”

            I flipped him the finger from the bed. Regardless of my attitude, he forced himself in and checked my temperature again. I was shirtless and covered in sweat, and he kept on making jokes about how wrecked I looked, but they didn’t help in any possible way. 

            “Talk to Lia, please. Make sure she’ll be okay,” I asked once again, my voice weak and hoarse. “She has her next therapy appointment on Thursday at ten o’clock. She hates her therapist…”

            “I know that” he replied, rolling his eyes. 

We had all heard Lia’s frustration at her therapist’s advice. Last time, she had told her to spend time thinking about all those memories from the past that had hurt her. “It will help you deal with the trauma,” she said, and Lia thought the woman was totally insane. 

            “Please, make sure she doesn’t skip it. She won’t pick up my calls.”

            “I’ll make sure of it,” he answered, punctuating each word. “But this is it, Noah. You have to tell her what you feel and get it over with.”

            “I can’t.”

            “You’re more stubborn that she is, you know that? It’s fucking annoying.”

            “Lia’s been telling me that since we were fifteen,” I smiled a little, looking up at Jolly with my eyes full of longing. 

            His exasperation was growing. He dropped his shoulders as he let out a long sigh. 

            “Look, Noah. I’m not the only one who thinks this was meant to happen. Not just because of your close relationship with her since you were kids, but because at some point we all wanted to fuck her. Don’t!” He cut me off by raising a hand when he saw my anger take over me. “I’m trying to say something. She was the only woman in a house full of men. We were practically lions living with a kitten for years. And while we all knew how to keep our hands to ourselves and take care of her as she deserved, it was inevitable that one of us couldn’t, and that was you. If you don’t tell her you love her, I will. I don’t care what happens next. I will drag you to the hospital if it’s necessary, and I will put her over my shoulder and drag her ass over there, too. I can’t watch my two friends go through this. I’m over with it.”

[lingy910y]

Weekly Tag Wednesday

thanks @creepkinginc and @mybrainismelted for the tag 😎

how is your day going?

better than the other days so far this week. received good news (will expand on below), got senior merch, and conquered my fear of making two phone calls to a college office

are you okay?

fine, but drained and lonely T_T

what is your favorite shade of your favorite color?

magenta

are you single?

yes

are you happy about that?

no bc loneliness like i said and i'm very much a hopeless romantic, but dw it's not the right time :D

what age do you feel in your brain?

this mental age quiz diagnosed me with 26 so let's go with that

do you feel like the good times are behind you or ahead of you?

behind, but i do think there's going to be good times!

do you have a best friend?

no, refer to above answers

did you have a childhood pet?

i told this story for an earlier tag game but basically, i had turtles but my mom gave them away to a friend because they got too loud against the glass when they grew older and apparently made us not sleep well even if the tank is placed in the bathtub. but i have no idea how they're doing rn...they're prob dead

do you sing or whistle around the house?

no

do you light candles or incense?

no

are you busy friday night?

no

if you were a circus performer which act would you perform in?

maybe asking trivia questions if that's a thing

what is your favorite outfit?

light green thin blouse with pink cotton shorts and sandals (def not an outfit for rn tho)

what's the last thing you created?

i randomly doodle but the last "formal" art were the matching gallavich wedding pieces

what is your favorite fic or book of all time?

fic is fragile little fate: the portrait of a marriage by siriusmickey (hi jade), it'll prob change if i get into another fandom (oh god i don't want to think abt that)

book is dorothy must die by danielle paige

what are you looking forward to?

remember i said my art is entered into a competition? i got into the semi-finals so i'm looking forward to winning 😳 the winner's art gets to be displayed in the MET...i also want to watch the eras tour movie (def not uploaded onto youtube with a sus title) with my sis. we agreed for it to be tmr but idk if she'll even show bc she's not even sure when she's free

what can put you immediately in a better mood?

gallavich content that hits different

do you like hugs?

the rare times that i get a hug i melt.............i still need hug 😔

what is something you wish people understood about you? (edit: i forgot abt this question)

i worry too much

tagging @heymrspatel, @michellemisfit, @deedala, @jademickian, @lupeloto, @mmmichyyy, @juliakayyy, @gallawitchxx, @doshiart, @sgtmickeyslaughter, @iansw0rld, @energievie, and @krysmiss

[gordonzola-ramen]

My mutual @alectricblue tagged me in this game tag! I normally dont do these, but I thought it'd be nice to get to know me more (and also meet y'all if you wish to participate)!

It will be long though. Sorry

1. Were you named after anyone?

Was originally gonna be named Andrea after a ballerina my grandma liked! Sadly no one remembered her well, not even grandma, so I don't know much about her.

My deadname was simply just chosen bc it was easy to pronounce, as well as my chosen name Diego (it's what I would've been called had I been male), although when I chose it for myself I liked the JoJo character Diego Brando so there was some correlation there.

Funnily enough, people think I'm nicknamed Lio after the Promare character, but I hadn't met them yet.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Yesterday. At 11pm. Watching OR3O's One Piece song. It was nostalgic ok

3. Do you have kids?

Nope. There's an absurd amount of reasons I don't want them, although not a single one is because I dislike them. I've had to babysit many kids and they've all been very sweet.

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

Oof, my recent sports is taking my dog for a walk. But I used to like volleyball and kickball! And reluctantly played soccer and did swimming! Sports give me a lot of anxiety and i'm not sure why.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

I do a lot of teasing and lighthearted banter that can sometimes be considered sarcasm?

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Their eyes! Or anything outstanding like cool hairstyles or visible tattoos.

With online people, I mostly recognize them by pfp or a vague mental pronunciation of their username.

7. What's your eye color?

Dark brown?? Or black??

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Honestly, whatever makes me think more. Unhappy endings tend to do that more though, so I guess scary movies! But of course it depends on the mood, sometimes I just want a nice story to cheer me up.

9. Any talents?

I've been told I am talented at the piano! And music in general, although most of my skills feel less like talent and more like just studying the thing.

10. Where were you born?

So I was born in the US, in Florida, but my entire family is from Costa Rica and I just happened to be born while my parents were studying abroad. I don't remember much from the US though, I came back to CR with my grandma in my first months because she was less busy than my parents, and then they came to live here again. So in my eyes I've been a true Costa Rican since always hehe

11. What are your hobbies?

Playing the piano! Also drawing sometimes (I like to color more than draw, but unless I get my hands on a coloring book I can't do that unless I draw), playing videogames (mostly RPGs and visual novels), and doomscrolling.

12. Do you have any pets?

YESSSS my beloved dog Mia!!!!!!!!!!! I love her so much, she escaped her abusive home and we found her while walking around a plaza, said hi, and she followed us home. She's been with us for 8 years now and I adore her. Reference below because how can I not show her off:

13. How tall are you?

Excellent question. I forgot but I'm average if that helps!

14. Favorite subject in school?

It changed over the years, in senior year it was English because we had my favorite teacher! I knew him for years because he has a literature club I partook in, so I was very happy to have classes with him. Plus, we saw the Oresteia, which goes tremendously hard especially when your teacher geeks out about all the symbolisms.

Apart from that, computer class! We barely ever had it, and almost had it cut out entirely in senior year, but the few times we did I really enjoyed programming and practicing typing! And when we didn't do anything we could play so.

15. Dream job?

I want to make my own videogame! So I'd say a game developer, although being a part of any videogame, especially RPGs, would be a dream come true.

Well thank you for reading, I hope that was some insight, it was very fun to reply!

Tagging section (no pressure to do it at all, you can also do it if you're not tagged who cares)

@skyllion-uwu @thefrogswhospoke @gorgeousuare @chronologicalimplosion @fishy-lilic @smoothedsmoothie @mx-mind @montied @aspirationatwork @jhofoyitchg @derkhue @mellomaia @federalfazbear @mcfinnigan @mutantsgurls @foxounderscorecube @sweetnessfollowsmp3 @mildredtefoneck @oh-my-stars1969 @unfullbucket @fluffnfuzzxoxo @electriceel69 @scottigyn @stressedsilverware @sapphicrobotenjoer @antjellies @milk1non-tolarantes @ovalbrain @chocokhaos @markdiegamer @astralix13 @atheist-xmas @blktomekurata @monstar-dreams @glass-duke @c--eam @laooneart

[kadextra]

I couldn’t watch the q!Bad lore stream live today and don’t feel like putting a bunch of vodblogs in the main tag, so I’m gonna try something new and put it all in one massive post

so if you missed seeing me on the dash and wanna read about me maybe losing my mind (depending on what happens as I watch) here ya go :D

WAIT WHAT??? Q!BAD IN LIMBO DEATH LIMINAL SPACE AGAIN AT THE START OF STREAM?????

MY GUY THERE IS SOMETHING SERIOUSLY WRONG WITH YOU‼️‼️‼️

oh there’s a second him that’s so trippy. he doesn’t recognize himself again, they’re walking together.

THIS IS SO COOL OH MY GOD?!?!?!? now they are digging in the sand??

ah so the corpse of… also himself is still at the deserted village, but its decomposed into a skeleton now. interesting DONT DRINK THE POISONED WATER NOT AGAIN ok good phew. good confirmation this is not a loop, there is new stuff happening that didn’t last time

dude this is so awesome he is cooking so hard. I’m gonna rewatch this whole part again later, I really love surreal stuff like this

nevermind it might actually be a loop? we went back right to where we were at the start. why does he keep sitting outside of the temple, and doesn’t go inside?

TOP FUNNEL 🕺🕺🕺

and we’re back. he can’t remember how to use the warp stone again :( the memory book is not in his hotbar uh oh.

Hi Ben o/

he doesn’t know the eggxhibition… you built this man, I’m gonna cry. NOOO HE DOESNT KNOW BOBBY IS DEAD AGAINNNNN

POMME. “MY DAUGHTER” WAAAAAHHH

“too early to put this up” <- referring to the día de los muertos decor. dude what time and day are you in

he found the egg hospital!!! oh no now he’s looking around erratically. I think he’s panicking :(((( and once again picked some flowers to self-soothe :((( god the flowers are so special to him, they seem to be like his main grounding thing. q!forever doesn’t even know the impact he made

he’s home!!!

dark matter by the vulture lab door uh? a knight armor guy sweeping??? is that a ghost??? what just happened?

oh god the vulture lab

IT WAS A GHOST THE ARMOR IS THERE AND THE BROOM IS IN THE CHEST. possessed armor that’s fun! :D

DAPPERRRRRRRRRR DAPPER MY BABY IS AWAKE AND ALIVE

dapper looks so horrible omg also her name is lowercased?

vacation. sure

“I didn’t get to keep it (the eye guy) as a pet.” yeah that’s definitely dapper.

also he doesn’t want to wear armor like the new eggs that’s weird

T E A. and q!bad’s memory is still fudged.

dapper your dad is very sick….

he remembers its been 2 months dapper has been gone! :0 DAPPER WAS NOT IN PURGATORY THE WHOLE TIME??? JUST A FEW DAYS???? EXPLAIN WHY NOW

q!bad keeps forgetting what they’re doing, and then goes off and does something else….. I don’t know if dapper fully realizes what’s going on, maybe she’s just too tired themselves to pay close attention to her dad?

“Since when did we have a farm?” Buddy.

PHILZA IS SOOOOO HAPPY TO SEE DAPPER LETS GOOO

“we hid him (dapper) underground, we weren’t sure if the island was safe” We? you and…? cucurucho?

DAPPER GOT YEETED INTO THE BOAT AHAHAHA

oh they really did get launched by the nuke and hit the boat I knew it. also I see you…. zooming into the back wound when phil said “you made it in one piece”

PRIVILEGED LOBSTER IS BACK REJOICE

chayanne was who led the eggs to leave? huh. chayanne you’ve got some explaining to do

not them talking about the eye guy’s snatched waist 💀💀💀💀 tbh they did slay

philza wants to beat up the eye guy and elquackity I support him so much

dapper hitting his dad off the top of the wall we’re so back!!!

ETOILES SEEING DAPPER and then fell off the wall LMAOOO

q!bad forgot that he forgot his memory

(I am so engrossed in the conversations I am forgetting to write things here lol)

“can we teach etoiles to cope” (with losing to the code) then they make him break a sign with 1s and 0s on it and he logs LMAO

q!bad just mentally zoned out and stared once again at flowers….. oh. the coughing :(

pomme was the leader when the eggs went surviving in the wilderness :3 that’s my girl!!!!!!

everyone just bouncing on the trampoline and chit-chatting is so sweet, I missed this <3

dapper is so based all the time

roier seeing dapper again awwwww

ough I really really missed dapper’s out of pocket jokes :(((

“I’ll get cleaned up for tomorrow, I’m sure it’ll turn out fine!” *hits F5* “I need pomme and the rest of the eggs to wake up, and I’ll probably feel right as rain…” haha stop it q!bad I don’t like this!!!!! 😃

he just said he didnt know a church was built here. now they’re at the graveyard talking about how he saw the dead eggs at día de los muertos </3 sobs sobs

Q!MAX T-T I miss you king o7

“learning how to raise the dead might come in handy” “we will worry about that later” ??? Please Stop That!

CODEBREAKERS JUMPSCARE

“I kinda won in this whole situation!” (the eggs being back) Sure bud. You aren’t dying or anything. You definitely have not entered limbo twice.

DAPPER PUTTING FLOWERS BY EACH EGG IN THE HOSPITAL. THE CROWN BY CHAYANNE GAHHHH AUGHHH GGUGHHG 💥💥💥

honey for smelly richas :3

q!bad saying dapper will like bagi and that she’s a really good friend, and will be his aunt. cries and punches a hole into the wall

More Coughing 👁️ dapper please help your father he needs serious medical attention.

BAD FORGOT ABOUT THE GHOSTIES THIS WHOLE TIME. BUT WE ARE FREE ONCE MORE!!

quit saying things are going to be okay I know you are jinxing something and it’s scary. there is a giant hole in your head and your back is turning green.

they’re going to see the prison and courtroom!!

WHAT DID HE JUST SAY

“forever for the crime of looking too handsome I sentence you to 10 years in prison!” UNPROMPTED? I know what you are 🏳️‍🌈‼️

I CANT DO THIS

FINALLY THE BIRTHDAY PARTY CELEBRATION FOR DAPPER. so many nights. so many nights where we’d watch him sit awake, crying at that table. waiting, waiting for something that would never come. but now it’s here. I’m in anguish

“once the eggs wake up we’ll have a big birthday party! a big ol birthday party. yep. a party.” why did you say that with such a weird tone sir?

DAPPER BURYING THEMSELVES WHEN HE FOUND OUT ALL THE MACHINES BROKE KKKKKKK

he reintroduced skeppy to dapper…

he is explaining the great furniture stealing to dapper. who was there when it happened and already knows. “my memory hasn’t been very good lately, I think.” Yeah You Think? I wonder q!bad forgot he’s the one who stole it all?

DAPPER IS BACK TIME

the child is locked outside

PFFT HES CHAINSAWING THE DOOR <3333 AND HAS AN ELEPHANT

yes dapper be salty at your dad for accidentally locking you out

REAL DAPPER TIME!!!!!!!

the sunshine recording omg. he played it for company the entire time they were alone… AAAAAAAAAAAAAUGHH HGHGHGHHGHGHGHGHGHHHGHGHGHGGHHGHFHFHGGFHFGHHHGHHBSBENFMFKS

dapper doesn’t know why q!bad is blue 😀 he doesn’t know…….. haha head in hands

they are going to visit Niki :3

OHHH HER REACTION TO DAPPER <333 she’s such a sweetheart. have I ever said how much I love niki? she was so great in purgatory, and earlier today I got to watch her meet empanada and bond over baking and sweets <3

nice look at the head wound from the inside

q!bad’s been so insistent on dapper going to the eye doctor, I have heard him say this so much over the last several days. even in his memory lapses he remembers it. Why? mr. colorblind YOU need to go to the eye doctor. go hospital.

yeah the alien ships from the map do look like eyes don’t they

based niki her favorite animal is elephants :3 SHUT UP Q!BAD YOU DEMON don’t eat the elephants

the hungriest little guy on the island strikes again

I’m just chilling listening rn, bad dapper and niki are so late night podcast vibes

perry the schnabeltier

TREASURE PLANET >>>>

in the dark of the night is kind of a q!bad song ngl

let’s go a washing machine in dapper’s lab :D oh that was a weird pause in the middle of your sentence bad :D

dapper is running on the ceiling!! they are so talented!

OH MY GOD.

SUNSHINE

bawling my eyes out hold on

the 3 months where q!bad has been so depressed and suffering just went flashing through my mind. every time he had sang the song in a teary broken voice, with nobody across from him listening. in the graveyard as a rainstorm raged above. but now his sunshine is back… hit me like a truck

they are gonna sleep hugging together tonight :’3

“I know it seems I’ve been out of character (since the beginning of the stream) but trust me, I haven’t. I’ve been in character this whole time…”

“Goodbye, see you tomorrow ….I’m sure everything is going to be just fine. :)”

I’m scared

—

well I guess this is the end of my vodblogging lore post!!! I hope it was fun to read jfjdjshdh it was just the thoughts I Would have posted if I was liveblogging. my eyes are still watery :’)

see you all tomorrow for whatever horrors await

[patternwelded-quill]

Consider this an open invite/tag game. I'll ask the question now and explain my answer! Do you have, or would you get, a tattoo based on something from your writing?

If yes, what and why?

Obvs yes since I'm sharing it, lol.

How is this relevant to my books and why does it look like I can't stop thinking about the Roman Empire? Let me tell you!

When the Red Hand Company was founded, it was by five very close friends who were all veteran military (three of which where also mercenaries post state military.) Five fingers of the same hand.

One of them was a Dryhtnar (race) Wodras (title). Among his people they are *also* governed by five people who make up the Elder Council: Nelade (red hand: external relations, chief of war), Nelbuv (white hand: internal relations/domestic chief), Arahe (chief military leader), Wodras (war speaker: priest, healer, wizard, advisor), and Satlaade (red angel: always a woman who isn't the Arahe, but a seasoned warrior, also heads the council of women's issues.)

Red Hand, you see, was no coincidence of a name. Ade also refers to life, blood, the color red, war, and family (bloodline sense.) So the Nelade Chihk'ni, (red hand brethren/brotherhood/group) or Red Hand Company was born.

You *might* also notice another thing. It's a *left* hand. That's intentional. The left hand holds your shield, which you use to protect your fellow warriors on the line. The left hand is a Teryn (more on this coming) and Dryhtnar symbol of, for lack of a better English word, a brotherhood. The symbol of the military family is put on the left arm, because they are all your shield, as well.

Okay, Myka, sure... but why the gold wreath? You basically have 'the manus' there before you added it anyway? You're right, and I noticed that detail so I leaned into it.

You see, there *was* a Rome in that part of the world in my... world. I'm a writer, I swear I have vocab. Anyway. The Kingdom of Teryn has a lot of Rome in it, and when it imploded that continent ended up with a lot of warring micro states. Thus the prevalence of mercenaries waging wars for rich assholes who lack a population to conscript in such numbers. One of them is Karvan, whom other founder Vledec hails from. Kinda fascist assholes, mandatory military service, state sponsored religion... you can imagine why a young man didn't want to drink the koolaid and fucked off. But the very-Roman legion standard feel of it comes from his background, military commanders wore them after battles so it was an associated symbol of power, victory, the Great Old Kingdom™, etc. Being a group of mercs, and ones that got hired to fill some deficiencies in post-Teryn nation militaries, was a way to thumb their noses at them. But the uninsightful nobility just saw 'Teryn symbol, okay, they're like us.'

Okay, cool, but why tf do *you* have a fictional military tattoo? Well, everyone in the RHC gets one and I made it, so...

Also, Relarial was my character, all the worldbuilding came after her. She got me through a lot of tough times, was my avatar in any game that let me be a one-eyed, knife-eared war cri- adventurer/mercenary, and is a big part of me. Those of you who know the hints and facts, that too.

So there you have it. A symbol that evolved for IRL years from an old mspaint gauntlet on a black shield to a fully worldbuilt heraldic symbol with centuries of meaning. *And* it looks cool!

@illarian-rambling @ladytamris @somethingclevermahogony @thecoolerlucky @roach-pizza @unrepentantcheeseaddict @princesscolumbia and anyone else I forgot at 0200 on a Thursday...

[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC Writer of the Month: Jamespotterthefirst

Each month CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers, and this month’s writer of the month is @jamespotterthefirst! We hope you will enjoy learning more about her and her work below! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog: Jamespotterthefirst Blog Masterlist

1- When did you start playing Choices? What's the first book you played? 

I started playing back in 2018. I kept seeing this thing called “playchoices” trending as number 1 on Tumblr (lol remember those days?). This would happen, without fail, almost every week! When I clicked on it, the posts were all about the finale of a royal story (The Royal Romance!). People made the most hilarious posts, complete with memes. I had no idea what it was, but I gathered it was an app. I downloaded it, and the rest is history. 

The first book I played was Desire and Decorum. It was absolute torture because it wasn’t completed yet. So I binged the available chapters. Yes, I spent real money on keys and diamonds, telling myself at least I wasn't spending that money on drugs. It was so much fun waiting for a new chapter every week, even if I’m an impatient mess. 

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined the fandom almost immediately after downloading the app. 

As I sat in my living room, tapping my foot and waiting for the new D&D chapter to drop, I went back into the playchoices tag for content. It felt good to find other people who loved the story as much as I did. There were other users out there who were also waiting impatiently for the new chapter, writing fics and discussing theories in the meantime. There were also some of the funniest memes I have ever seen in my life. At first, I would quietly read and reblog. Then, I slowly started posting my own thoughts and theories (which were not very good lol but hey, this is tumblr after all).

3- How did you pick your url name? 

My life is one hyperfixation after another… The one before Choices was Harry Potter. More specifically, the Marauders era. I used to write for the pairing called “Jily”, composed of Harry Potter’s (dead) parents. Kelsey (@takeharryandgo) is a witness of just how much I love James Potter, Harry’s (dead) dad. In fact, our shared love for the pairing and character is one of the things that brought us together. 

In short, this URL is a reference to James Potter the first, Harry’s (dead) dad. Not James Sirius Potter the second, Harry Potter’s (living?) son. 

I saved it as a sideblog, meant only for writing resources for me to use at a later time. One day, I decided I didn’t want the followers on my main page to see all the Choices spam I was posting, so I resurrected the JP blog. 

4- Go back to your archive and tell us about the first post on your Choices blog. 

My first Choices post was a shitty theory about Desire & Decorum: 

5- How long have you been writing fanfiction?

I’ve been writing fanfiction since I was a literal child. I used to write in a notebook and my friends would read during recess. It was awful but they were into it. One day, I used up the whole notebook and my friend was desperate for the next part of the story. I told her I needed to wait until my mom took me to the store (literal child) to get a new one. My friend got me a new one by the end of the day lol.

TL;DR that puts me at about 20+ years of writing. 

6- What is your favorite Choices book to write about?

Without a doubt, Open Heart! 

7- Share the first fanfic you wrote with us. Do you still like it or would you change anything about it?

Oh god, the first fanfic I wrote was Lily Evans and James Potter from the Harry Potter universe. I forgot the exact title, but it was named after an Avril Lavigne lyric. Again, I was a child, don’t judge me lol. It’s handwritten in a notebook I still have somewhere, but I will never open it again lest I die of cringe. 

My first Choices fic, on the other hand, was a Desire and Decorum fic called “A Wedding Gift” that only like 5 people read at the time. 

8- What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

Oof. This answer changes depending on the day you ask me. I always overthink it and end up saying picking a favorite fic is like picking a favorite child. To avoid being here all day, however, I’m going to say: Fake Husband, She Walks in Beauty, and Lovely.

9- Do you have a fic that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to be but could use a little more love?

Definitely, the fic I didn’t expect to do well at all if my first Open Heart fic: Lovely. 

I was so naive back then, knowing nothing about the Open Heart writing fandom. I had no idea what format or tags to use when posting. I was afraid there would be no readers out there who wanted to read a silly little story about my MC posting a thirst trap. All I knew was that the latest chapter of Open Heart Year 2 inspired an idea that wouldn’t leave me alone until I wrote it. 

I posted it and I was so incredibly lucky to receive so much support. Words cannot explain how special that was. To this day, I cannot verbalize how grateful I am for that. 

There isn’t really a fic I can think of that could use more love. It always amazes me that anyone gives my fics their time. So any feedback my fics get will always be valued and treasured by me. 

10- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why? 

Oh no. 

If forced to choose, I’d say fluff. 

11- Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

Absolutely! While I try to make every MC different, I often pull from experience when I write. My Open Heart MC and I have a lot of things in common (heritage, hometown, astrological sign, etc.) But I also wanted her to be her own character with life choices that are different from mine. Since I'm very boring, it definitely makes for better fiction that way. 

12- What element of writing do you struggle with most?

It depends on the day. Some days I struggle the most with dialogue. Others, my biggest struggle is descriptions. It's rare when I feel confident in both when I write. 

13- Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

*laughs nervously in unfinished series*

There are a few series I have yet to finish. Once again, I apologize for leaving them untouched for so long! I plan to get my shit together soon! 

14- If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first? 

No! 

I don't think I could look anyone in the eye if they read some of the stuff I've written, especially for Choices. 

15 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing?

I strongly believe that one of the best ways to learn as a writer is reading. As such, I believe I've learned from most pieces I've read, particularly published rom com novels. In the fanfiction world, I admire my lovely friend @takeharryandgo. I've had the absolute joy of following her writing for over a decade. And with every work, I am still amazed by her masterful way with words! And her characterization is always spot-on. I simply love to read her spellbinding work and learn from the master! 

Other writers/creators I admire are:

@heauxplesslydevoted- one of the first OH writers I've ever read! Her smut is top-tier!

@jerzwriter - her stories, dialogue, and characterization are a delight to read. Her angst is painful. Her smut is sizzling hot! 

@liaromancewriter - a true master at romance! Her writing style is magical and synonymous with the best of rom-coms! 

@genevievemd - I bow down because the amount of love and care she puts into every piece truly makes her work special! 

 @lucy-268 - I have always respected the amount of research she puts into every piece. She pours so much care into it so that the narrative flows seamlessly! 

@a-crepusculo - her writing is so vivid and immersive. Reading her work is like listening to the most beautiful of symphonies!

@writer-ish - she is such a master at the craft! Her characterization is so vivid that the reader will fall in love no matter the format. Her text edits are legendary! 

@bex-la-get - such a talented and dedicated writer! She also pours hours of research into her work, ensuring every detail makes sense! 

@potionsprefect - she's such a creative and talented writer. She develops writing ideas like no one else I've ever seen! 

@headoverheelsforramsey- I love her storytelling and characterization! She's created a beautiful, inspiring, and intelligent MC for all of us to adore!

@gryffindordaughterofathena - her writing style is one of the most original I've ever seen. Reading her work feels like reading the loveliest of poetry! 

@coffeeheartaddict2- the dedication she puts into her work blows me away! She's daring when exploring themes in her writing, and she's not afraid to pull from personal experience. 

@lsvdw-blog - the person I'm sending my therapy bill to. Just kidding! Her writing is beautiful, even when it's the most painful angst. 

@trappedinfanfiction - she is such a lovely writer. The amount of detail she's given both of her MC's back stories has my absolute respect! 

@quixoticdreamer16 - I adore her MC and the wholesome, beautiful background she's given her! 

@mysticalgalaxysstuff - Another MC that has stolen my heart. I am so happy she started writing this past year because she's a real talent! 

@peonierose - love her beautiful MC and the beautiful love story she built for her with Bryce! 

@cariantha - a brilliant writer with talent for days! 

16- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series? 

I would love to see She Walks in Beauty along with its series (1800s AU) in live action. Imagine Ana de Armas and David Gandy in period costumes? That alone would be worth it! 

17- Do you write original stories? 

I've crafted and outlined original stories before but I've never actually written them. One of my biggest goals for the new year is to finally start. Wish me luck! 

18 -  What other hobbies do you have?

I love reading, hiking, and dancing! 

Yes, I picked the most “impressive” of my hobbies to seem cool. On most days, you'll catch me cuddling with my dog or bf watching YouTube/TikTok/Hell's Kitchen reruns lol. 

19 - What’s your favorite emoji? 

I used the orange 🧡 and purple 💜 hearts a lot because they're my favorite colors!

20: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).

For the record, I am also contractually obligated to read anything Kelsey writes 😘 

Thank you so much to every single reader who has given my work a chance these past three years!

Thank you to the wonderful mods of CFWC for all you do to support writers in the Fandom! 

[forcebookish]

thank you for tagging me, @ariadnekurosaki!!!

1 . How did you get into writing fanfiction?

uhh, when i was twelve i wrote horrendously bad self-insert inuyasha (and bleach?) fanfic on a now-defunct website that doesn't exist anymore lol since then i've bopped in and out of fandoms under different usernames across many platforms. often, i'll lose the muse in 2-3 year chunks, but get sucked back in for new fandoms.

except bleach. i always come back to bleach 😩

2. How many fandoms have you written in?

oh god, if we count dc, marvel, k-pop, and thai dramas (+rpf) as all their own respective fandoms (ie. not distinguishing between arrow, the flash, young justice, etc.), it's twelve - if we don't, it's almost thirty. a lot of my exo fanfics only reference other groups/solo artists, so i think that's too generous. the point is, it's a lot lol

3. How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

on and off since i was twelve (although when i was five i wrote a picture book about the disney princesses hanging out with me), but probably a total of 8 years actually active?

4. Do you read or write more fanfiction?

write more. i rarely read fanfiction unfortunately D:

5. What is one way you’ve improved as a writer?

i'm less verbose and my voice is cleaner.

6. What’s the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

quebecois sacres.

7. What’s your favorite type of comment to receive on your work?

when i make someone cry 😈 nah i really love detailed ones with quotations, ones that pinpoint exactly what parts hit them or meant the most to them. but tbh i love short keymashes too!

8. What’s the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

hmmm🤔 i don't think i write anything that out there... yet. i guess i like to write about psychic connections and niche super powers.

9. What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

ones with a lot of worldbuilding. and porn lol

10. What is the easiest type?

ones with a lot dialogue and character introspection.

11. Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

my office, the tv room, my bed, sometimes outside. i used to write in coffee shops, at the library, work (especially when i worked at the library lol) before the pandemic and i became a hermit. in gdocs, because i write on my pc, chromebook, and phone. all hours.

12. What is something you’ve been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

there's this one prompt from the bleach kink meme that i've been thinking about for ten years that has the potential to be really gross or really hot. or both. i might write it for the >5k au event in august idk

13. What made you choose your username?

lapmonster: my twitter username for a while before i decided to start posting on ao3 so i made my ao3 to match; it's a pun on rap monster. kairumption: when i started writing exo fic this was my livejournal url; another pun, it's kai + kyrumption (from angel). it's also where my nickname rum comes from. farewellswords: my twitter username changed from lapmonster in 2019 or 2020 because bts got too popular and army were accusing me of being a namjoon anti lmao; it's a chapter title from bleach.

probably should have kept kairumption as all of them, but i like farewellswords 🤷‍���️ tbh it would have been my url here if an inactive acc didn't already have it. because, i mean, come on.

COME ON

okaaaay let's tag: @pomslices @retiredficwriter @komari-maxx @ellasaru12 @athousandbyeol @bytheforcebook and anyone else who wants to participate! :D sorry if i forgot you!

[where-dreamers-go]

"That Happened" Bridge Carson x Reader

(A/N: I knew there was an insert reader I forgot to type!!! Found it. Ready? Reader has a crush on Bridge and somehow gets involved in a conversation with the Rangers.

Warnings: (Y/L/N) is used in place of your last name.

Word Count: 464 words)

Working at Space Patrol Delta was more of a lifestyle mixed with a career. You slept there at Headquarters; ate, drank, and any other necessity.

Life in S.P.D. was hard work and had plenty of opportunity for fun. It wasn’t all stressful. You had a life. And that life involved living with Power Rangers.

A group of Earth’s protectors who also had a life within Headquarters. All with unique personalities.

One personality in particular made you want to kick your feet in the air and sigh dreamily.

How can someone that smart and caring also be adorable and handsome? And a Power Ranger. You thought as you glanced up from your book. Him and his warm brown eyes.

Off towards the center of the common area, the B Squad Power Rangers were in the middle of a conversation; a debate, really. Something about painting and possibly cheating.

Honestly, you weren’t sure how they verged on the topic in the first place. No one was actively painting or viewing an art piece. You guessed it was random conversation.

“They’re artists,” Sky said as he leaned back on the couch, “they shouldn’t need it.”

“Heh.” You flipped a paper in your book.

Typical, you thought. Shame though.

There was a few moments of a unanimous pause in speech. Expressions and glances passed around the Rangers while words in front of you caught your attention.

“Cadet (Y/L/N),” Sky spoke up, “do you have something to add?”

Peering over your book, you nodded. Much to the delight of the Rangers, such a friendly bunch.

“Yes or no for artists using tape,” Z clarified in case you weren’t sure of the nature of the debate.

Easy, you thought.

“Yes,” you said.

Sydney gave Sky a triumphant look.

“Tape is a tool,” you continued. “Like a ruler, like an eraser, and a brush.”

You kept your composure, confident in your reasoning even as a pair of brown eyes were fully engaged in you. Bridge’s gaze.

Swallowing, you added, “It’s strange to expect artists to draw or paint a straight line free handed because of their skillset. What, a carpenter can’t use a level or a tape measure? A scientist can’t reference a book? A baker can’t use measuring cups?” You smiled. “Tape is simply a tool.”

Cadet Tate pursed his lips, bested in your logic. The other Rangers had a tamed celebration for the end of the conversation.

Yet that didn’t hold your gaze. Not for long. You looked to Bridge, attentive as ever and still looking at you with ease.

An air of confidence and satisfaction surrounded Cadet Carson.

With a small smile, Bridge winked.

Caught by surprise, you ducked your head behind the open book as heat rose to your neck.

Oh, that happened.

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.

coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

[violetsareblue-selfships]

Training

Ship: Ayaka x April | Word Count: 682 | Warnings/Tags: fluffy, self-indulgent ^.<

A/N: ehe i nearly forgot i was gonna post this today oopsies but here we are! a little fluffy ficlet for her birthday~ I hope you all enjoy it!!

Ayaka grips her book tighter and resolutely directs her face down towards the pages. She starts to read, but several paragraphs later, she realizes she's not retaining any of the story.

She lets out a little huff and raises her head again, her eyes falling on the source of her distraction. How is she meant to focus on her reading when April's in the same room looking so freaking attractive?

It's her own fault. She can admit that much at least. It was her idea to read while April worked on her training. She just didn't expect it to be this hard to focus with the other girl exercising like this.

If this had been Thoma or her brother or really anyone else, she's sure that she would have no trouble reading her book. She's done that before, actually. It's one of the only times she can spend time with her brother with how busy he is. Though, to be honest, she's also usually working on her sword technique at the same time he is so there's not a chance for her to read like this.

The next move of April's involves her flipping her polearm over the back of her hand and catching it again, the sight of which sends a little jolt to Ayaka's heart. How? How does someone look that good doing something so simple??

And the sounds!! Ayaka hates to admit it but that's the main reason she can't focus. Not with April letting out small grunts and noises of exertion like this.

Necessary noises for this type of exercise, Ayaka's fully aware, but they're causing her face to heat up nonetheless. They remind her too much of… other fantasies of hers.

April sighs softly and de-summons her weapon before beginning to stretch. Ayaka barely holds back a squeak at the idea she might be caught and stares down at her book again. Still, she can't keep herself from sneaking little glances as April stretches.

She thinks she actually does squeak this time when April uses her vision to douse her hair in water, letting out a contented sigh as the water cools her off. April glances over at the sound, a small smirk quirking her lips.

"See something you like, princess?" She teases, giggling as Ayaka starts to stammer and looks down at her book again.

April shakes her head and goes over to the pitcher of ice water that was prepared earlier, pouring herself a glass and downing it. Then she goes over to sit by Ayaka's side.

Ayaka is still looking away, so she jolts a little in surprise when April's fingers gently nudge her chin up. Her face flushes anew at April's eyes so close to hers and April smiles warmly at her.

"Why are you so embarrassed, love? I knew when I invited you here that you'd end up watching… There's nothing wrong with it." April says softly.

"I know. I just didn't expect it to be so…" Ayaka trails off, several words coming to mind but none of them being good enough.

April laughs softly, seeming to know what she means. "It's different, huh?" Ayaka nods the best she can with April's fingers still holding her face up. "Of course, it is. Watching your partner exercise is different than watching anyone else."

"Wait… Is that why… before, when you watched me and Ayato spar…?" Ayaka trails off, both of them knowing what situation she's referring to. April's cheeks slowly turn pink and she laughs a bit sheepishly.

"Yes. That's why I got so flustered back then." April admits and Ayaka hums softly. "I couldn't help it. You look so pretty wielding a sword, my dear."

Ayaka blushes again but she giggles at the compliment. April smiles and leans closer to kiss her softly. "Now, come on. I seem to recall you wanting to have a picnic today?"

"Oh, right!" Ayaka perks up. April giggles and stands up, reaching for Ayaka's hand and helping her to her feet. The two smile and walk back into the estate, looking forward to their upcoming date.

[lazywitchling]

Oh, I definitely forgot to give final thoughts when I finished reading Queering Your Craft. Anyway...

6/10 - Better at Queer than it is at Craft, but you should read it.

So, there are some red flags in here. The main part that I screamed at was the paragraph about "Eostre" and how 'you're totally right, those mean ol' Christians did steal our Super Ancient Pagan Holiday with rabbits and eggs and just changed the name a little' which is... untrue. (Go check BreeLandwalker's tag on Easter if you want someone smarter than me to tell you.) So... yeah that wasn't great. But thankfully that was the largest problem I had with the book in terms of like, facts (That I can remember, at least).

Cassandra (whose pronouns I believe are they/them? That's how they're referred to in the About the Author at the end, so I don't know if they use any additional ones) does a LOT of work with the elements. They're VERY focused on that, and on checking your astrological charts to figure out what element you're most aligned with. None of that is relevant to my practice, but I'm not here to just read about practices that are Exactly Like Mine, so it's not a BAD thing, it's just a thing to note.

The spells are alright. The paradigm is fine. The witchcraft is nothing to write home about.

HOWEVER.

I highly appreciate the book as a whole for Cassandra's perspective on witchcraft. It's not a perspective I see terribly often in printed books, and more often find in the blogs that I follow. But it was really nice to read through a book breaking down a disabled, genderfluid, queer person's relationship with witchcraft, and it challenged me to pop the hood and get into the gears of my own craft.

Ultimately, I think I would have liked the book more if it were written as more of a memoir than a How-To, but I still think reading it was a net-gain.

[flutteringfable]

about the tags on your reblog of our reblog (this is the main account of ayano-stabs-dev)

it's still Osana but my gf (Ayano) is coming so she might be bugging you two soon XP

anywayyyyyy if you want we can talk about our exomemories some more!! or you could ask us anything and tbh we love attention

OH also we have an Info chan fictive but they are intersex (as an alter, we are not an intersex person and do not claim to be) and prefer being referred to with every pronoun in the book except most neos (she says nouns would be fun but he'd rather people ask first blahblahblah)

AND I forgot Ayano was besties with Kokona too!!! I just remembered because that opening scene with Kokona asking for help with the play happened in our exomemories... which is funny because Kokona called her Yan-chan not because aYANo, but because YANdere, because it was actually a well known thing that she was/is batshit crazy, but we all just sorta... took pity on her? ig? and helped her grow to be a good person despite/including her yandere tendencies

like, she stalks people and all that but rarely without permission and always respects boundaries, that sort of thing

anyway that's WHY Kokona asked Ayano specifically

I am.... rambling so much rn I'm so sorry T0T

aaaa thats so neat!!!! and no worries, i dont mind rambling at all (because well. i tend to do it a lot lmao)!! i'm currently being swallowed up in bnha muse, but i figure at some point after art fight i'll be able to focus enough on yansim related stuff to post more headcanons and talk w u guys and all that jazz!

anyway its super cool to hear abt all ur memories and stuff!!!! i'm more well versed in kin stuff than plural stuff so apologies if i can't offer any specific response to that section of the ask lmao.