#and for the past several hours they've just been shit

[doodlboy]

I'm so tired folks its not even funny anymore

[wishful-sinful-9]

YOU WANT IT DARKER

Logan Howlett x Reader

MASTERLIST

cw: stalkerish!logan, kidnapping, kinda dubcon, smut, piv, oral (f receiving), biting, hair pulling, body worship, overstimulation, just feral sex, both parties are a little unhinged, reader has no sense of survival instinct bless her

halloween special (better late than never) 🐺

Was this karma? Had you been some sort of puppy-kicking throat-slashing cold-hearted bitch in a past life? Are you being bit in the ass for it? Or had the universe just singled you out at some point to be an object of constant torment?

You'd thought a small town in the mountains was just what you needed: peace and quiet, beautiful landscapes, charming locals. The reality was freezing temperatures as early as September, and elderly neighbours that are just as frosty to the strange young newcomer. Two months in, you could no longer take the loneliness - life became a little brighter when you adopted your fiercely loyal, and almost terrifyingly giant, doberman you named (aptly, in your opinion) Baby.

And then you left the Goddamn back gate open.

Miles of forest stretch up the mountainside behind your house. You've been trudging through the dense woods for hours, voice hoarse from calling for your dear Baby. A whisper in the back of your mind tells you it's a lost cause; he must have gotten too far to find his way back, and God knows the predators lurking in these shadows willing to attack him. These shadows that are getting deeper with each passing minute.

A shiver runs through you, in spite of your thick scarf and fur-lined coat. You scan the surrounding trees as you realise that it's getting harder to see past them.

That's when you halt abruptly.

You have no idea where you are.

-

Right and wrong blurs into eachother sometimes for Logan. He's been alone for so long, and his instincts are so loud, he can't fight these strange animal tendencies that claw into him every so often.

And you, well you didn't help him at all.

Why the fuck would a pretty young woman like you be doing living round here? Walking around his forest every damn day, with that hound that you love so deeply, even though it could easily wrench its lead from your grip or bite your arm clean off with one snap of its wolfish jaws. Of course, he knows it would never do such a thing - it loves you like all dogs love their owners, unconditionally and obsessively and devotedly. It loves you like how he'd love you.

Picking a spot in the shadows and watching you pass by was one thing. Beginning to follow you on your route, all the way back to your home though - his conscience was beginning to blink its red warning lights.

Yet every time he indulges in his guilty pleasures, those lights fade a little more.

He doesn't notice they've gone completely black when he sees you presently, stood shivering in the depths of the forest. Lost.

Your dog blinks up at him, eyes bright and tongue lolling. Excited to introduce you to his new friend.

-

The darkness of the encroaching night, the cruel icy wind, and the severity of your situation is all forgotten when your blessed Baby appears like an angel from the shadows.

“Baby! Oh, my God, Baby,” you sob, kneeling as he runs to you with a furiously wagging tail. “Where have you been, boy? Where the hell have you been?”

You unwind the leash from where you'd knotted it and clipped it to your belt loop and reach for Baby's collar. He twists, not with any fear or violence, out of your grip in an instant. You frown. He hasn't done that before.

He trots over to where he had appeared from, glancing back and stopping, encouraging you to follow.

You step forward, “What are you..”

He returns to shepherd you to his desired direction. You do so, praying that once he's successfully shown you whatever impressive stick or pinecone it is that you can finally go home.

You trudge after your dog for a few more minutes before deciding you've had enough. “C'mon, pup, let's go home. Aren't you hungry? Eh, boy? Want some- shit!”

Baby sprints off suddenly, lightning-fast.

Your feet move before you can think. You're far too exhausted for this chase, but you are not going to lose him again. You shout after him as you sprint through the darkness.

You break through the trees and find yourself skidding to a stop - in front of you, there is a black iron gate.

Beyond it, a gravel drive leads to a shadowed, decrepit manor house, lit only by the full moon above. You don't have time to wonder why there was ever a house built this deep into the wilderness, because Baby's running straight to the open door.

-

He pets the dog idly, knowing you'll soon follow. It licks his palm.

The scent of roses, your perfume, strengthens as he hears the stumbling of your hiking boots at the entrance. The dog barks, and you follow the sound.

You burst into the living room, eyes wild when they meet his own.

Got you.

-

His dark eyes are unsettlingly wide as he stares you down.

The man whose home you've just broken into is unlike any around here; considerably younger than the elderly folk in town, perhaps in his thirties. Beyond that, there's something abnormal about him: he towers over you, huge in stature and wide with muscle. And one of his terrifyingly huge hands is petting your dog.

“I am so, so sorry sir,” you stammer stupidly, taking a wobbly step back. “He just - ran off - he never does it I swear, I'll get out of your- Baby, Baby, c'mere.”

He doesn't move.

You tremble as you contemplate grabbing him by the collar. But you can't seem to bring yourself to move towards this man.

“Baby, please-”

The man says your name.

Your blood runs cold. You bring your gaze to his, slow with terror. Another step back.

You could cry when Baby finally moves away from him, only to be further horrified when you beloved protector only does so to get behind your legs and usher you towards the man. The strange man who somehow knows your name.

You lurch forward at a hard nudge of Baby's head against your calf - into his arms. Strong, large arms that wrap around you tightly. Shit. Oh shit.

You shriek, attempting to wriggle free, but the man holds you to him tighter. He removes one arm, keeping you there solidly still with the other, and curls his fingers into a fist.

And three knife-sharp metal claws unsheath from his knuckles.

Your fighting ceases immediately. He doesn't hold them to you in threat, merely displays them in warning: Don't. Even. Try.

They disappear back into his hand and he brings his lips to your ear.

“You ain't going nowhere, sweetheart.”

-

It would've been a nice room, once. A canopy bed in the centre, a velvet loveseat at the foot of it, and a large window stretching across the far wall. Only now, the canopy's sheer curtains are torn, the colour of the seat's fabric faded, and the window completely boarded up.

The only source of light is a lone candle on the dresser. You pace in its dim light, shaking like a leaf, gasping short, panicked breaths.

He'd picked you up as if you'd weighed nothing at all and deposited you in this room, locking it and ignoring how you banged and screamed and shouted at the door. It didn't take long before you'd exhausted yourself and resorted to desperately racking your brain for means of escape.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

You sink to the floor with your head in your hands. Hiccupy sobs escape your lips, eyes sore from crying.

A gentle click of the door opening alerts you of his presence.

“I'm not gonna hurt you.”

As he lingers in the doorframe, even bigger from where you're crumpled on the floor, you find it hard to believe. Your breathing speeds up again.

In a stride, he's kneeling beside you. You jerk away with a cry as he tries to reach for your wrist.

His hand curls around your chin and brings your tear-stained, crazed face to his. The wildness in his eyes before was gone - there's a shocking earnestness in them now, as if he hadn't just used your only companion against you in luring you into his home.

“Deep breath in,” he murmurs.

What?

“Deep breath in, I said. Do it, girl.”

For some bizarre reason, you do it - drawing in a deep, shaky breath and holding it.

“Now out.”

You exhale.

“Again - in,” you do, “out.”

You can't shake the feeling that you're in some absurd dream as you repeat the process with your abducter until your breathing returns to normal.

He retracts his hand from your face and with a weak voice you whimper, “Who are you?”

“Logan.” He grunts.

“What do you want?”

He gazes at you for a long moment. When he responds, you detect a tremble in that baritone voice: “I've been alone for so. Damn. Long. Then you came along, into my woods, into my head, and now I'm losing it.”

His words send chills racing down your spine. Had he been watching you?

“It's like this instinct. This animalistic urge, that makes me want to keep you here - where I can keep you safe, keep you with me-”

“You're a mutant,” you rasp. He nods. “My parents always told me to stay away from... your people.”

“They aren't my people. I'm alone.” You flinch at the sharp edge to his tone.

He raises himself from the floor, looming over you again. You cower under his shadow.

“Well,” he grunts, “not anymore, I suppose.”

He locks the door behind him.

-

You don't know how many days have passed since Logan first took you.

It was only the day after that fateful night that he unlocked your room, under strict order to not leave the house. His only other kindness was to get some clothes for you from your house. You hadn't given him the keys.

Baby is your only comfort, as he curls up beside you at night for warmth. Even still, he seems to have developed some sort of bond with your captor, and is unwilling to be the guard dog you'd have assumed he would be in a situation such as this.

You've taken to slinking about in the shadows, rarely directly coming in contact with Logan; instead, you observe him.

His mutant abilities are not limited to the claws; from what you've gathered, he has some sort of heightened sense of smell and hearing. You know it would be foolish to try and escape because he'd sniff the nerves on you in an instant.

He feeds you mostly meat, which you pick at with little appetite.

It's those minor interactions, when he hands you your meal, that you ponder over throughout the long, cold days and nights. Had he lingered for longer to watch you eat? Did his fingers graze yours when he passed you the plate?

It soon came apparent to you, that this ominous, claw-bearing creature was no more than a man in isolation.

In a largely anti-mutant society, it's push everyone away, or be shunned and hurt. In this world, he's abnormal. Dangerous. A monster.

And you want to crawl into his skin and find what he is really: man or beast?

-

His ears prick at the shuffle of your feet. No matter how often he hears you move about, you never fail to excite his paranoia.

But you never do run, or lash out, or panic. You just remain in the darkness, watching.

In truth, he regrets doing this to you. It was the primal part of his brain eating the rational, and now you were constantly in his proximity, the animal had calmed itself and the human had settled in. Still, he could not bring himself to set you free. Not until he'd figured out how to get himself back to how he'd used to be.

Click.

He froze.

The door. You were at the door.

He set his beer bottle down hard on the table, a warning. He was there. He'd know if you were escaping.

The smell of fresh night air leaks into his nostrils, and he stalks over to the foyer.

You're halfway out the door - staring at him.

For a heartbeat, you keep his furrowed gaze, heart rabbiting in your chest. Then you bolt.

-

You barely make it to the gate before rough hands slam you backwards into his chest.

You don't struggle. You just pant in his hold.

A long, terrible moment of silence passes that makes you doubt your confidence in emerging from this situation unharmed. When he finally speaks, his lips brush the shell of your ear.

“What. Was. That.”

You squeak, “I wanted to see if you'd go after me.”

You're flung over his shoulder and marched straight back to the house.

He dumps you on the tattered armchair by the fireplace, and leans over you - gripping each arm of the chair to cage you in. His eyes are as dark as you've ever seen them.

“You have your answer,” he growls.

“Logan I-”

“Now I want to find out mine.”

You press yourself back into the chair. “Answer to what?”

“Why did that turn you on?”

Your mouth runs dry and your cheeks are ablaze. You shake your head furiously, refusing to meet his eye. “I don't know what.. Uhm..”

One hand is no longer on the chair, instead it's on your cheek. Forcing you to look at him.

Wordlessly, he drops his hand... and shoves it down your pants instead. It's then that it hits you: that heightened sense of smell of his can detect arousal too.

A thick finger runs through your folds, gathering the slick sticking to your panties.

“Logan-”

“You are turned on.”

He sounds almost a little incredulous, as he pulls out his hand and studies how your arousal shines in the milky moonlight, coating his fingertips.

You make a little noise of embarrassment, and it turns his attention back to you. Wide-eyed, flushed, lips slightly parted. And a switch flips.

He grasps the back of your head to meet him halfway as he crushes his lips against yours. Bruising, but for some reason, addicting.

You moan slightly, opening your mouth to encourage his tongue and it makes his mind blur.

He tears away after a minute, and, operating as if possessed, rips your pants open.

You gasp, but have no time to reconsider: your panties are torn clean off too, and a finger is curling deep inside you.

Your wails prompt him to try another, his thumb circling your clit, the pads of his fingers pressing against the spot that makes your eyes roll. You can barely gasp his name, so overwhelmed and lost in pleasure.

It's not enough. He needs to taste you.

You almost scream when his mouth replaces his thumb, sucking desperately on your clit. He laps at you with such animalistic intent, the haze in your mind lets through one paralysing thought: how does he fuck?

The pressure builds in a way you've never experienced before - so quick and heavy, like a tidal wave, and when you cum he almost ruins his pants along with you. The sheen of sweat over your face, your heaving chest, that sweet white release trickling down his palm. More.

Your hand flies into his hair as his fingers begin to move again and his mouth is somehow faster and needier than before.

“L-Logan I can't-”

He groans gutterally as he pulls away for a second to spread your juices over your throbbing flesh, already swollen. When he dives in again, you just grip his hair for dear life.

The next orgasm has your thighs clamping tightly around his head, but he simply prys them apart again. You tug at his hair and he finally breaks away to kiss you hard.

You taste yourself on his tongue.

He doesn't let up until you're both in desperate need of air, and you take the opportunity to strip off your top and bra. His hands, shaking you realise, come up to cup your tits gently, his eyes greedily savouring the sight.

“Beautiful..perfect..let me fuck you.” He gazes in your eyes with such desperation, you lean forward to cup his face and kiss his nose.

“Anything, anything for you, Logan.”

-

You don't give a damn about that rug burning against your back. Not when he's so deep inside you, you swear you can feel him in your throat.

“Sweet girl,” he sucks into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “Take me so well, does it hurt?”

“Mm-mm,” you hum, eyes welling with tears of overstimulation. “Just move. Fuck me, Logan-”

He lifts your knees, pressing the backs of your thighs to your chest, and slams into you over and over at an unrelenting pace. Your mouth hangs agape, crying for the pleasure. It's as if the beast in him has bled into your skin, making you want him closer, deeper, faster. You claw at his shoulders. He leans down to nip and nuzzle at your jaw and neck, but your lips only move to moan.

“I can feel you - so tight - cum for me, sweetheart,” he grunts out, “cum all over my cock.”

You do as he wishes with a scream of his name.

He watches the sticky mess where his dick meets your cunt grow with your latest release, and he wants even more.

You're too dumb to register how he hasn't cum yet, but is pulling out of you. You let him manhandle you with ease until you're on your front, cheek against the floor while Logan grips your hips to keep your ass up.

Like this, he can better watch it all drip out of you.

You let out a little whine, eyes fluttering shut as you're sure he just wants a final look. You jolt as you suddenly feel his tongue thrust into your hole and curl. “No more-”

You shiver at the obnoxious wet sounds of him licking up the mess between your thighs, pushing back against his face despite yourself. You breathe out a sigh of relief when he pulls away - then you feel the head of his cock notch against your entrance.

With the last of your deteriorating strength, you try your best to crawl away from his sloppy thrusts.

“I'm not done,” he growls, pulling you back onto his cock and pounding you harder. You give in, eyes rolling, back arching, front pressed to the floor once more.

“Give it to me.”

You can't.

“C'mon.”

He reaches round to rub your clit in mean circles.

“Let go.”

You cry, and clench so hard around him it feels as if your pussy is pulling him in.

You gush around him, and his hips stutter as he approaches his own release. You press back as you feel him try to slip out - “Inside me, Lo, fill m' up..”

With a shout, he cums deep inside you, only pulling out once completely milked dry. He groans at the sight of your twitching thighs, and the creamy mess leaking from your cunt. He pushes it back in before standing.

You're a sticky, panting, fucked-out thing when he gathers you in his arms, pressing his lips to your hairline.

“Can I keep you?” he grins down at you, the first time you've seen him smile. You beam and kiss his cheek.

“Keep me forever.”

a/n: this has not been well edited but I hope you enjoyed nonetheless! I've had a bit of writers block but the first part of the knight!au and the bbf!peter oneshot is on its way, slowly lmao

[swifty-fox]

It's raining so badly in the UK it's become a caricature of itself, but it made me think....how do the Chapel ooys handle bad weather in that car? Do they ever get into fights when they're frustrated, or more just bickering?

they have a couple arguments here! but I miss them so

"I'm tired," Gale sighs, slumping further into his seat, drawing the oversized hoodie of John's down over his eyes to block out the constant patter of rain.

"Blanket's in the backseat," John reminds him, eyes flicking from the unfolded map on his lap to the street and back. He was driving one handed, cigarette pinched between two knuckles and leaking sweet smoke into the belly of the car. The window's cracked but it's ineffective at clearing out the worst of the haze, spitting in more damp rain and humid air than it is snatching away the smoke.

Gale bites back a quiet noise of frustration, "I'm sick of sittin' up here."

"So get in the back seat."

"I want to stop somewhere, Bucky."

"In this?" John asks incredulously, glancing up and over at Gale, "Every Inn from here to Wichita is going to be fully booked."

"In Kansas?" Gale snaps.

John waves a hand around helplessly. At the road, slick with rain. At the angry patter of rain on the windshield.

"Pick a spot. You want the Ritz? The Hilton? How about the Mariott?"

They've been on the road for a whopping seventeen consecutive hours, stopping only for gas and to relieve themselves. And now the rain, slick and insistent and turning the air around them maddeningly heavy with damp. Clinging their clothes to their bodies and their hair to their necks, it did little to cool off the world, just stol their ability to sweat away the worst of the heat.

"Nice, Bucky," Gale mutters, crossing his arms and slumping in the seat.

"Listen, doll, if a fucking Four Seasons popped up right now that'd be one thing, but there ain't shit out here."

"Just forget about it."

John glances down at the map again, squints out at the road. Works his jaw in a quick chewing motion, "You knew what you were getting into. Don't take it out on me."

Gale scoffs lightly, turns to punch the back of the seat soft and adjusts his position again, "You didn't have to take me with you."

"Yeah," John says slowly, "Cos' when a guy says take me with you or I'll give a Lewisnky to the barrel of a gun, it really gives a guy a lotta options.

"I didn't realize I was such a charity case to you, John," Gale answers coldly.

"Oh Jesus, come on, Buck."

"Pull over."

"Are you serious?"

"Pull the fuck over," Gale insists, going for the door handle.

"Fuck, " John swerves the car, braking hard enough to slide Gale forward in his seat a few inches, "You call me a loon, hold on don't jump out."

Gale waits until the car is at little more than a slow roll along the shoulder to leave its dry confines. He's soaked almost immediately by the downpour, plastering his hair to his face in stringy pathetic strands and turning his clothes dark and heavy. He doesn't care, taking several long strides away from the vehicle and out into the dark prairie. He hears the slam of a second car door behind him, John's muffled curse and then an exasperated bellow.

"Don't get out of sight of the car lights, Gale."

He ignores the command, striding out further and tripping over thick clods of soaking grass. John's huffing and puffing behind him, large body as graceful as a bull as he follows after Gale.

"Buck, just stop would you?"

Gale wants to tell him to go fuck himself. He stops.

Stares out over the scenery though there's nothing to see past the obscure of the rain. It slips between his slightly parted lips, cool and sweet; strikes the crown of his head in sharp impacts, the droplets fat and heavy.

"I didn't mean it like that, Gale," John says as he draws up beside him.

Gale wraps his arms around his torso, damp shirt fabric bunching heavily under his touch. He inhales, then scoffs, "How'd you mean it then?"

When he glances over John's got his own hoodie drawn up tight, strings drawn tight so only his nose and chin are visible. It's comedic enough to almost make Gale laugh, if he weren't so committed to being angry.

John purses his lips, then sighs, grinning sideways, "I dunno. Just bein' shitty I guess."

"Yeah," Gale agrees, "Me too."

"So we're both shitty," John concedes, "And now we're wet."

"Yeah," Gale agrees.

Heavy warm arms wrap around Gale's shoulder, draw him in front and close. He can't see John's eyes but doesn't need to, could pick them out in his sleep. John leans forward to kiss him, then pauses as if checking they were on the same page. Gale tilts his chin up slightly, tucks his slick fingers into the front pocket of John's hoodie.

John kisses him, slow and tender and with enough lightness rainwater slips between their lips, filling their mouths between caresses.

"I'm sorry," John says, "'M fuckin' tired too."

"Let me have a turn driving," Gale says, "I'll find us a place to sleep for the night."

they fight! just like any other couple :)

[dream0fschism]

absolutely loved ur blurb about breeding with König!!! i can def see him mumbling shit under his breath because ur just too!! pretty!! like!! this!!

for a follow up, what abt König with a mommy/pregnancy kink, where he just can't keep his hands off pregnant reader,, wanting to film her with his love over and over?? <3

nonnie...

"Here you go, mommy," your husband hums happily, slowly lowering the cup of fruit tea you'd requested with both hands and placing it into your own.

"Thank you very much, daddy."

You've both been calling each other these parental pet names for the past several weeks, ever since your stomach had gotten big enough that you were really showing.

König absolutely revelled in seeing you in this way, as you always knew he would. You were big now, but not so much that you couldn't make your own way around the house and complete chores by yourself. Your overgrown husband, of course, had strictly refused to let you lift a single finger.

He would bring you teas; draw you baths, gently wash over your skin with the softest of touches; cook breakfast, lunch and dinner for you whenever he had the chance...

Sometimes he'd even stand behind you, lift your stomach with strong, loving hands and just hold the weight for you. It provided the biggest wave of relief, and you could lean into his chest forever in this position.

And in the bedroom, König would love you all the same - just in a completely different way.

The hormone imbalance you experienced as a result of being so very pregnant meant that your emotions were excessive. And, luckily for him, most of the time, you leaned more towards being insanely horny... just about twenty-three hours a day.

König would worship your body like a temple, place paths of kisses around various stretches of your skin. His favourite place to kiss was on and between your thighs, though, as the sweet, helpless whimpers that fell from your mouth would drive him sick with devotion to your pleasure. He couldn't handle just how perfect you were, writhing in blind pleasure as he sucked at your swollen heat whilst hidden from you behind your bump.

And when he fucked you, he insisted on a spooning position just so he could hold you whilst he thrusted deep inside. He loved to kiss at your sweaty forehead and caress the stretched skin of your stomach as he moved, whispering sweet mutterings about what a good mother you were and how he couldn't wait to make you pregnant all over again.

"Never want to stop, love," he'd pant, burying his face into your hair with his mouth still ajar as he huffed out his blissful breaths.

König also loves to play with your tender, swollen breasts whilst he pumps into you; loves that they've gotten so much bigger because it's only a reminder of just how pregnant you are, with his child. He can't wait to be a father.

"Ah, my beautiful mommy, look at how perfect you are," he'd coo into your ear, pushing himself into you slow and hard and just how he knows you like him to. "I want to have as many as possible, my love... please..."

"Mm, darling," you'd reply, feeling him tense up at his approaching release. "We're going to have a big, big family."

[genericpuff]

Scamlords is at it again.

A few nights ago, there was a sudden blow-up in the /r/webtoons server showing a new announcement from Snailords -

For anyone unaware, Death : Rescheduled has been on mid-season hiatus since October. And it's now, and only now, that Snailords has suddenly decided the comic is ending after it returns, but readers can get an extra 20 episodes... if they fork over $1k in merch sales.

Now, this could be a lot worse. They could be threatening not to return to the series at all unless their readers hand over money. But considering it's practically just one degree away from that, it's still pretty nasty. Not to mention, the further they divulged in their reasoning around this "idea", the more confusing it got.

They also even revived their @snailordsrant account on IG which, for those of you who were there and can recall, was the same account they used to put one of their own fans on blast over some very mild criticism.

None of this makes any actual sense, for several reasons:

1.) I literally fail to see how getting $1k in less than 24 hours is worth shoving in an extra mini arc of 10 episodes if you don't even have it planned out. Why do that to your audience or to yourself? Why drag things out just to scrounge up an emergency $1k? Why not just be honest with your audience and run a GoFundMe or just say , "Hey everyone, I've run into some financial troubles, I would really appreciate it if you could FastPass my newest episodes or donate to my Patreon or buy some merch so I can cover the costs". It's really telling that this shithead doesn't have enough confidence in themselves or their audience that practically worships them that they have to resort to this kind of underhanded shit to get the money they need. I wanna make it clear that this is NOT like a Kickstarter stretch goal or anything that incentivizes readers to support their work, they're instead holding the length and future of their series over their audiences' head (which they've done before) for money. That's not an incentive, it's an ultimatum.

2.) Maybe I'm misreading / being stupid (someone pls explain if I'm missing something here) but I literally don't see how their comment about working 50 hours a week explains why they're suddenly getting their fans to pay out $1k worth of merch in less than 24 hours. For anyone who doesn't know, $1k per episode is an example Webtoons uses in its post discussing how they pay out creators (this came after the platform got called out 2 years ago for paying creators too little, there are undoubtedly creators getting paid less). And yet for some reason $1k is apparently the difference between 10 episodes and 20? How does that add up? And is the bit about them wanting to buy boba supposed to be a joke? Where's the punchline here?

3.) They say they have writer's block and they want to use the money to "motivate them", but then just a few slides later they say 10-15 episodes is what would make them the "happiest" so which is it? Do they want to write 10 episodes or do they want people to pay them to write 20 episodes so they can draw the fluff scenes that they apparently want to draw? If you have an ending planned out, why rush it or drag it out depending on how this "fundraiser" goes? Why not just write the ending you want to write that will serve your story best? Why shove in an extra mini arc that you don't even have full confidence in writing and then try to compare it to a "super expensive cake"? What are you doing? Speaking as someone who's had trouble getting motivated in the past, suddenly getting a month's rent worth of money to do it doesn't necessarily solve that, it just turns up the pressure, and if you're not someone who deals with pressure well, then you're more likely to wind up just burning out entirely rather than fulfilling that goal.

4.) The fact that they did, in fact, hit their goal just makes it all the shittier to think about because their audience is mostly made up of teenagers who worship the ground that they walk on. It's horrifying that they keep pulling these stunts with their audience, and getting away with it to boot - and Webtoons, as a company, keeps enabling it by allowing it to happen by hosting and promoting people like this.

Anyways, there's already a lot going on here that's sketchy, but then... they went and deleted their posts. At the time of this happening (as I was there to witness it all play out in real time) I assumed this meant that they had hit their $1k goal - especially as they had been showing their progress on their IG and they were already at $900 after just a couple hours - but it gave me a sinking feeling seeing them delete it because they had also been called out by some brave readers telling them that it wasn't exactly a good look to essentially blackmail their audience through their own content into giving them money.

Snailords deleting it gave me a stronger impression of "burying the evidence", especially now that they had the money. By all accounts, they could do whatever they wanted now.

So what did they decide to do?

. . . Huh?

Okay, take a second to actually think about what Snailords has done here. Because I know some of you will go "oh, it was for charity all along! that was nice of them!" but . . . I don't know about the legalities of collecting donation funds under false pretenses, but morally speaking, it's a really shitty thing to do. They stripped away the choices - limiting them to three - of what their readers could donate to, and what I think their readers don't understand - due to being mostly teenagers - is that they're tax-exempt individuals and they just unknowingly gave Snailords an easy $1k tax write-off. You really, really shouldn't collect donation funds like this without being honest, it's just a shitty thing to do, especially after you've already collected the money. It mostly just comes across as damage control on Snailords' part to make it seem like they were always planning to donate to charity, when in reality, if they wanted to donate to charity, they would have been honest about that at the start. Again, even if they wanted to do that from the start, it goes to show how little confidence they have in themselves or their audience that they have to stoop to methods like these instead of just doing it honestly.

And do you really think Snailords will actually do those extra episodes? Or donate that money? This is the same asshole who has manipulated their readers for money not once but twice, and now seems intent on doing it a third time just for the charm. This is the same person who practically sabotaged their own comic, Freaking Romance, because they apparently didn't like the romance genre and may as well have only done it for clout / views / etc.

What was especially odd - and I found this out from folks who actually read Death : Rescheduled (I do not) - was finding out that it wouldn't make sense for D : R to end in as many as 25 episodes, because apparently, the plot has basically just gotten going.

So it does seem like this is foreshadowing that D : R will wind up just like Freaking Romance, rushed into an ending that wasn't expected. And this, of course, has the people who read their work confused because D : R was supposed to be Snailords' passion project, their magnum opus, the project they wanted to do. So them holding the timing of an ending that shouldn't even be happening yet for ransom contradicts that original intention. Really, it just goes to show that Snailords has no passion, they're just in it purely for the money, to a degree that I can't even cheer them on for being a hustler because it's missing the honesty and integrity.

And of course, every single time Snailords finds a way to backpedal and take his audience for a ride, they hop right in without a single thought for themselves.

And no, none of this is to hate on the readers directly, I hold Snailords entirely responsible for this - they have an audience of impressionable, naive, gullible teenagers, and they know it, and take advantage of it every chance they get. It's why they weren't just honest about wanting to collect money for charity from the start. It's why they resorted to basically holding their own comic's progression for ransom during its midseason hiatus. It's why the deadline was 24 hours and why the posts are now gone.

Thankfully the Internet does what it does - any evidence that Snailords was trying to bury is now all over reddit, and hey, just for good measure, here's a post on Tumblr that's been sitting in my drafts for days now, days after people have already seemingly stopped talking about it. Don't let anyone bury or forget about the stunts Snailords is pulling on their audience, with a platform that they've been consistently given by Webtoons, because that's what they want you to do.

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

I really love how you draw Karkat and Calliope. You've already talked about how the other relationships within the POABPCL, so I was wondering if you could talk about Callikar in more depth as well.

Heehee okay so the short reasoning is that first of all, Karkat is also highly reminiscent of Caliborn, so there's Calliope's natural attraction there. But also Calliope desperately wants to experience a flushed romance, and Karkat is a crazy person who can't keep his quadrants straight. Which, for Calliope, would actually be a plus instead of a minus????

But yeah, for the Caliborn similarities, apart from the grey text and (mostly) capital letters and general cantankerousness and candy red blood and random textual callbacks to shit Karkat says:

CG: OK I DON'T SEE HOW WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE BECOMING FRIENDS IF YOU RECOIL FROM MY OLIVE BRANCH LIKE I'M WIGGLING A GNARLED TREE MONSTER'S DICK IN YOUR DIRECTION. [...] uu: HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO BE BECOMING FRIENDS. IF YOU RECOIL FROM MY OLIVE BRANCH. uu: LIKE I'M FLAILING A WITHERED MUMMY'S SEVERED LIMB IN YOUR DIRECTION.

CG: THE FACT THAT YOU ARE DUMB CG: IS AN IMMUTABLE FACT I AM STATING FOR THE RECORD. CG: IT DOES NOT MEAN ANIMOSITY IS WHAT IS TAKING PLACE HERE. [...] uu: AND THE FACT THAT I MIGHT NOT CLuE YOu INTO YOuR FATE ALL THE TIME. uu: DuE TO MY AGGRAVATED APATHY OVER THE MATTER. uu: IS AN IMMuTABLE FACT. I AM STATING FOR THE RECORD. uu: IT DOES NOT MEAN THAT GIVING A SHIT IS WHAT IS TAKING PLACE HERE.

Did you know they both weirdly have a thing for right angles?

DAVE: i dont want to see your lines making any right angles do you understand KARKAT: IN MY MIND'S EYE I AM PICTURING A BEAUTIFUL LATTICE OF LINES AND COMPARTMENTS, INTERLOCKING WITH SUBLIME PRECISION AT NINETY DEGREE ANGLES. KARKAT: I IMAGINE THIS MODULAR RETICULATION AS AN ELEGANT VESSEL, IF YOU WILL, FOR THE GRAND SYNTHESIS OF OUR SHARED SHIPPING DREAMS.

So yeah, you know, they've got some similarities! Enough to fuel some initial cherubic romantic interest, I feel.

But obviously, cherubic romance is primarily - if not exclusively - pitch. Calliope expresses this in a way that makes it very much sound like it's a setup that her happy ending does, in fact, involve her finding a matesprit.

UU: thoUgh i trUly wish i were capable of those feelings. UU: perhaps the fact that i am not is why the topic fascinates me so. UU: and why i have been prone do indUlge in sUch... UU: fancifUl visUalizations. UU: of yoUr people's lovely bright red relationships. UU: they mUst be nice. u_u

Personally, I think that cherubs "can't experience redrom" the way humans "can't experience blackrom". In that, y'know. ;)

But let's move from Calliope's side from a moment and talk about Karkat. Hey, do y'all remember how he had a crush on a different Space player? (The fact that Karkat actually totally had a crush on Jade, and continued to think incredibly fondly of her for years after the fact, to the point of using one of her passwords as the password to his dream hive, gets lost in the melange of ~yaoi~ is honestly one of the reasons I'm not a fan of DaveKat).

CCG: I'M GOING TO VOMIT. CCG: I'M MAKING A MENTAL NOTE TO SLAP MYSELF THREE HOURS FROM NOW, FOR BEING ENOUGH OF A SAP TO START DEVELOPING RED FEELINGS FOR A DUMB ANNOYING HUMAN, IF I'M READING BETWEEN THE LINES CORRECTLY. FCG: I JUST SLAPPED MYSELF! I REMEMBERED MY LAME NOTE TO MYSELF FROM THREE HOURS AGO, AND THEN SLAPPED MYSELF SPECIFICALLY TO MOCK YOU. FCG: IT STINGS TOO, YOU'LL FEEL IT IN A WHILE. AND THEN THE GHOST OF PAST ME WILL CRY.

Hussie's commentary on this is also fucking hilarious, by the way:

First, by defending Jade like this, Future Karkat is virtually making the case to his own past self to give her a chance, and to try to acknowledge that his aggression toward her is masking romantic attraction. If that wasn't nuts enough, the altercation doubles as an actual confession of this to Jade, which she now has to bear in mind as she goes forward befriending this guy. Like most other shouting matches Karkat has with himself, it's a complete free-for-all of self-owns and eyebrow-raising psychological revelations. And yet, in the totality of this clusterfuck, it's probably about as sufficient as anything else he could have done to get her to start giving the friendship a chance. How do you sidle out of something like this? You don't. This miserable basket case needs all the help he can get.

But this is another example of Karkat's horrible problem with mixing his quadrants and sending out all sorts of mixed signals, which he lambastes himself for later RE: Terezi.

FCG: IS IT?? TELL ME, HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU TREATED HER IN A WAY THAT COULD BE OBJECTIVELY CONSTRUED AS A FORM OF BLACK SOLICITATION? CCG: THAT'S JUST CCG: NO, THAT'S HOW WE'VE ALWAYS ROLLED TOGETHER. IT'S LIKE CCG: SPIRITED PLATONIC CONTENTION. CCG: TOTALLY NORMAL TERRITORY IN A HEALTHY MATESPRITSHIP. FCG: YEAH, A *HEALTHY* ONE, NOT ONE INVOLVING A DEMENTED LOUDMOUTH WHO CAN'T KEEP HIS SHIT UNDER CONTROL. FCG: LET ME ASK YOU, HOW MUCH OF THAT ANIMOSITY IS INNOCENT "PLATONIC RAGE"? FCG: COULD IT BE THAT SUBCONSCIOUSLY YOU WANT TO PUSH THINGS WITH HER ONTO CALIGINOUS TURF, MAYBE SEE HOW THINGS WORK OUT THERE? FCG: SEE IF YOU CAN HAVE YOUR GRUB, AND CULL IT TOO?? FCG: THAT WAY YOU HAVE HER ALL TO YOURSELF!

And even his "confession" to jade has shades of this, as he basically forced her to auspicetize between himself and... himself. Just a really messy guy who can't keep his quadrants straight. I've already talked before about how this would be completely fine for Eridan, who is literally too bad at social shit to notice and is just happy for the attention, but... doesn't that seem like it would work for Calliope, whose fundamental attraction model is based in pitch?

And to really get into this, we should also talk about Karkat's taste in movies. The three posters he has hanging up in his room are for Serendipity, Hitch, and 50 First Dates. Between the three of them, it becomes really clear that Karkat is really into the idea of soul mates - of finding a romantic partner that just kind of perfectly clicks with you and all your idiosyncracies, with whom the romance is natural, and brings out the best in both partners.

Serendipity most obviously, as the entire movie is practically a treatise on destiny and fate (and also, if you're only going to watch one, watch this one - it gets namedropped twice in the comic and I genuinely think HS draws like 30% of its DNA from it). Hitch's A-plot couple is widely considered the worse one, but the B-plot couple turn out to be perfect for each other - all the guy's lame, embarrassing aspects just happen to be what she finds adorable, and he just needed a courage boost and chance to be noticed by her. And 50 First Dates features a guy in Hawaii who loves taking visiting tourists on whirlwind romances, but is terrified of commitment, meeting a girl who can't make new memories - functionally rendering every date their first from her perspective - and it's really sweet. It doesn't even make you want to punch Adam Sandler at all. Like, not even a little bit.

In any case, what this says to me is that, while he still needs to undergo character development to be ready for it, the romance Karkat should eventually end up with is one where he doesn't have to compromise who he is, warts and all.

A lot of Karkat's more common fandom pairings tend to downplay, or even outright forget about, how genuinely uncomfortable it is to experience Karkat's nutso vascillation. Even if the edge is taken off via moirallegiance, Karkat is still the sort of messy guy who tells his flushed crush to "set the table on [his] bulge for their candle light hate date." Jade clearly isn't a fan of being treated rudely, while Terezi eventually gets driven off by the mixed signals he puts off... but what if there was a species who primarily experiences pitch attraction, who would find Karkat's frequent dips into black-coded flirtation hot?

And also... Karkat is obviously Calliope's favorite character troll...I mean, she's got his symbol as her cufflinks. And also:

CG: I THINK THIS SUBJECT IS BEYOND A LOT OF PEOPLE'S GRASP BUT I KNOW A LOT ABOUT IT, NOBODY EVER REALLY WANTS TO TALK TO ME ABOUT IT THOUGH. AG: Whoa really? Oh no shit, REALLY???????? CG: OK, MOST PEOPLE WHO HAVEN'T HAD THEIR LOBE STEM CAUTERIZED ARE CAPABLE OF FEELING THE TWO PRIMARY EMOTIONS, HATE AND PITY. CG: PITY IS OF COURSE JUST THE TONED DOWN VERSION OF THE CENTRAL EMOTION, HATE. CG: AND ALL THE NUANCES OF PITY MANIFEST AS VARIOUS OTHER KINDS OF FEELINGS LIKE WHATEVER CHEMICAL REACTIONS TRIGGER MATING FONDESS OR THE MYSTERIOUS FORCES THAT ARE BEHIND MOIRALLEGIANCE.

And:

UU: actUally, i have written hUndreds of pages examining the striking differences between hUman and troll romance, as well as reprodUctive habits, as the comparison makes for a marveloUs case stUdy in xenobiocUltUral differences. UU: as long as i am sharing specUlation with yoU, perhaps yoU woUld like to read my essays? UU: i coUld even paste each page right here in sUccession, and allow yoU to read them back to back to back to back to back to back! ^u^ TT: Oh hell no. UU: ah. UU: yes, yoU're right of coUrse. i'm probably getting carried away as UsUal. UU: forgive my enthUsiasm, it's jUst that i so rarely have anyone to talk to who shares my passion for these matters.

They could both be SO ANNOYING about quadrants and romance together. It would be beautiful.

[porcupine-girl]

I realized today that I've been blaming my writing going all to hell on covid. And that's definitely part of it - wisps of brain fog always linger for several weeks afterward, and I find it significantly harder to think of the word I mean for things than it was a couple of years ago.

But I realized today that something else happened at the same time:

I got covid for the first time in July 2022.

And my kid went into 7th grade a month and a half later.

Why is this significant?

Because 7th grade meant switching from elementary to middle school. And while the elementary school had an after school program that meant he got home between 5-5:30pm, the middle school had no such program. He stayed after for clubs, but they were only twice a week for an hour, and not the entire school year. They usually didn't start til October and ended in April.

My brain does not turn on properly until 2-3pm most days. This is just how it works. When I was in grad school (before having a kid, and when my husband lived in another city), I would go to campus and work 3pm-10pm many days, it was great. That is perfect.

Having a kid fucked this up, because suddenly my most productive time of day is filled with dinner and bedtime and such. When he started elementary school with this after school program, that helped because at least I had 2-3 hours a day after my brain turned on and before he got home.

Suddenly middle school is here, and he started getting home by 3:30, 4:30 when he had clubs (which again, was not most days). So suddenly I went from 2-3 hours of work time to an hour at most, and sometimes even when I thought I'd get that hour he'd show up at 3:30 because robotics club got cancelled.

Now high school is the same way - thankfully, his bus ride takes a while (he rode his bike the half mile to the middle school), so even though they get out at 2:30 he doesn't get home until 2:55. But this means I have no work time at all before he gets home and I have to start keeping on top of him to get homework done and practice cello and etc etc etc. The one extracurricular he's done so far, film crew, hasn't even been after school! First they were meeting from 7-9fuckingPM three days a week, then the past few weekends they've been filming 8am-5pm Saturdays & Sundays. Which means I do get time without him on the weekends, but my husband is home and sometimes he's even not working and expects me to do things with him because it's the only chance we get, since he's working most evenings.

So anyhow. I knew this was annoying, but I only realized today how bad it was because I was actually up and medicated and showered and dressed before 2pm (this is a constant struggle on days I don't teach, once again I'd been getting it under control and then covid hit), but I had trouble getting anything done 2-3pm because of the whole but he'll be home in less than an hour, whatever I do I'll have to stop in less than an hour thing that you KNOW renders many of us with ADHD completely useless. And this was the first time I realized that I lost those vital 2-3 work hours every weekday at the exact same time I got covid the first time, and I think that has impacted me more than I'd even realized.

ETA: I should mention that before I got covid the first time, I was actively preparing to query agents for some picture books, as well as about halfway through a middle grades novel, and had published two articles in kids' magazines and was actively querying to get more. Aside from the way my fanfic output has slowed to a trickle, I have made almost NO progress on ANY of these professional writing attempts. What time I do manage to spend on work stuff, I have to use on teaching, because shit will actually happen if I don't get teaching stuff done while if I don't get writing done absolutely nothing happens.

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

Thieves (Obey me x Reader)

In response to my last poll in which HCs won by a country mile, I present Mammon and Satan being needy little thieves! Enjoy!

MC has adapted several ways to evaluate the Devildom. This formerly alien place has now become rather familiar, but it plays by its own rules.

This is no less true for the seven brothers they share a roof with.

MC's had to learn quirks, hairpin triggers to flaming tempers, boundaries and fixations, but something they've also learned, is that each and every one of those brothers is a little thief.

Mammon had been oddly quiet all day. Ten hours without seeing him, and MC hadn't received a single text or disgruntled call. Not even a second hand message passed through his brothers.

It's odd, they find themselves staring aimlessly at their DDD as they make their way to their room for the evening. It's getting late, later than MC would've stayed out if not for Diavolo and Lucifer's company.

No amount of staring at the screen will change it though, no new messages from their first demon.

With a pursed frown, they push open their bedroom door, eager to get comfortable for the evening.

They peeled off the nice clothes they'd worn for dinner with the demon prince and reach for their favourite hoodie, the one that practically lives on the chair at their desk, only to be met instead by bare wood.

'Huh? Where'd I put-?'

Muttering to themselves, MC spun in a circle, searching for the familiar shade of painfully comfortable fabric, internally wondering how in the Devildom they'd misplaced THAT.

MC's more likely to loose their head than that hoodie, and as they finish the first lap of their room, they realise they haven't lost it at all.

It's been stolen.

Eyes rolling, they pull on an oversized tee shirt and shuffle out of the room, padding on bare feet.

Given the circumstances, there's only one demon who would attempt such thievery.

They knocked once on Mammon's door before pushing it open, and found him lounging on his sofa, wearing MC's double oversized, baggy hoodie as he scrolled through his phone.

'Whatdya want Luci-? Oh shit!'

The demon's expression was downright comical as he scrambled to try and cover himself with something. Too bad that the nearest object was a ridiculously tiny throw pillow.

Still, he's anything but a quitter and holds the item firmly to his chest. 'H-hey, what're ya doin' bargin' into a guy's room, human?!'

'Looking for that.' MC chuckled, leaning smugly against the closed door. 'If you missed me that much, you could've just said so.'

Mammon's cheeks became a delightful shade of rose, all too perfect to ignore. 'Like hell I'd miss ya! Puny human, you're lucky I don't-'

'Don't what?' MC purred, stepping forward until they stood between the demon's legs, gentle fingers combing the hair back from his face gently. 'Steal the rest of my wardrobe?'

Mammon gulped, wide eyes unable to look away from the human, his human, smiling down at him like he...like he mattered, like they loved him.

Before he can think to fake an objection, MC slid into his lap, arms sliding around his neck as they cuddled close, yawn slipping past their lips.

'If you're gonna steal my comfy hoodie, you'd better be ready to replace it, greedy menace.'

Of all the Devildom's lords, you'd have thought Satan sat on the far end of the spectrum when it came to open clinginess.

MC's a long way from being fooled into thinking that he's immune to missing them, despite the demon's stoicism.

On an outing with Solomon, MC had lost all ability to use their DDD (not at all because they were trapped in a pocket dimension after Solomon tried to prove a point).

By the time they'd returned to their proper places, MC had at least a dozen texts and three missed calls from the demon.

Rushing to the House of Lamentation, ready with apologies on their tongue for missing the planned reading date, they found the Avatar of Wrath's room empty.

Crestfallen, MC started typing a message on their way back to their own room, only to hear Satan's notification ping from beyond the door.

They found the mighty, terrifying avatar of Wrath, curled up on their bed with a book and MC's favourite plushie in his lap, their blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

'Shut the door!' Demanded the blonde, fighting off a blush as MC began to giggle.

With the door closed and locked behind them, MC arched a brow. 'Missed me that much? We resort to stealing plushies now?'

'It's still in your room, therefore, not stolen.'

'Uh huh. So you've just replaced me with a plushie sheep?'

Satan's returning smile was impish, one he saved for MC's playful bantering. He set the little sheep aside gently, and wordlessly opened his arms, eyes never once wandering from MC.

The human didn't hesitate, crawling into his lap in the little sheep's place, resting their cheek against his shoulder as Satan wrapped the blanket around them both and picked his book back up.

'Read to me?'

The demon pressed a kiss to the crown of their head, free hand gliding through their hair. 'Of course, love.'

[mpixx]

cattonquick buffy au pt. 4 (ollie loses his v card)

cw: sex pollen (comparatively consensual tho)

"I'm only coming with you because we agree that there is a certain risk that these teenage witches will set something on fire or accidentally summon something."

Oliver is tugging at the long-sleeved polo Felix forced him to put on for the party. It's a lot more fitted than his usual clothing. Now that he sees Oliver fidget with it, Felix is torn between feeling guilty for making Oliver uncomfortable, and still agreeing with himself that he couldn't have let Oliver show up to a sorority party in one of his frumpy checked shirts. He already looks like a teacher chaperone, but now at least he could be the TA who grades your papers and who you know would be kinda cute if he took his glasses off.

"Yeah. Although it's probably just going to be party trick magic."

Oliver huffs. "This seems like a ruse on your part."

"Does it?," Felix grins, and rings the door bell.

***

They've barely walked into the house, greeted a few girls, when -

"Oliver Quick."

"H-hello Aiden."

Not this guy again. Oliver's friend or whatever from college who is now a PhD student at UC Sunnydale. He dresses like a pretentious prick (probably because he is one): turtleneck sweater and red wine glass permanently stuck to his hand. He's as tall as Felix though, which rubs him the wrong way.

"...I'm working on a paper about folk magic in Yucatán that you might be interested in..."

Felix resists the urge to tell Aiden that Oliver is not interested in his dusty theoretical research because Oliver has been assigned as a watcher which is much cooler. But he can't, because it's a secret.

"You know, we just arrived, we were about to..." Felix says instead.

"I would love to hear about that," Oliver interjects. Aiden smiles.

He gives Felix a little smirk as he steers Oliver away. Felix is about to say something else but Oliver actually looks relieved to have found someone to converse with, so he's gonna let them.

***

"Some of these are from the 19th century," Venetia explains, showing off the vintage potion vials to the group of 5 girls - and Felix - sat around the living room couch table. "They still have stuff in them, too."

Felix steals a glance at Oliver and Aiden in the corner. He had walked past them several times to eavesdrop (thanks, enhanced slayer-hearing) - but it was all a very dull conversation about authenticating manuscripts. Nothing titillating at all, nothing to worry about. Besides, Ollie had not even finished his drink which he has had for an hour now.

"Can I..." the girl to his right says, reaching for the ornate bottle. Venetia lets go a little too early and it slips from their hands - and shatters on the glass table.

"Fuck!" Everyone in their little circle jerks back. Felix watches with concern as a purple vapor escapes from the shards of glass and slithers into the air of the room.

"What does that one do...," one girl asks, eyes wide.

"Aphrodisiac," Venetia says, waving dismissively.

"Oh, shit, " someone says. "Did we inhale it?"

"It's not dangerous, this one" Venetia says. She winks. "And it only works on virgins, anyway."

Relieved breaths and faces all around.

Felix, too, sighs a breath of relief. He did lie about the risk of some dangerous magic happening to get Ollie to come to the party - and he honestly can do without it.

He looks around for Oliver anyway, just so they can form a plan in case this potion will turn out to be a problem despite Venetia's assurances to the contrary.

Only to find Oliver in a passionate embrace with Aiden, kissing him with his eyes closed. What the... Felix's stomach twists uncomfortably. He could have sworn there was nothing going on between them, despite him being kind of anxious about it. Has this been a thing? Were they a thing the whole time?

And now Oliver, who would never do anything like this, is climbing into Aiden's lap in front of a crowd of people.

"Um..." Felix says, feeling faint, turning to Venetia. "When you say it only works on virgins...," he asks, trying to sound casual.

"I know, so reactionary. You know how old school spells often required a virgin, or their blood or whatever?" Felix nods. "Well, this is a classic 19th century type of potion used to target them. Makes them really horny and lose their inhibitions."

"Just..." Felix casts a quick glance to the corner where Aiden has his dirty paws wrapped around Oliver's itty bitty waist. "...just virgins?" -"Yeah, but I think if they touch somebody, they get dosed, too."

Felix laughs awkwardly. God. Does this mean that Ollie...? Why is it so hot in here?

"We don't really make them anymore," Venetia continues. "There is very little evidence that virgins have any ritual significance. Feminist scholars of magic nowadays assume it was just some thing pervy men made up."

"Uh-huh," he says. "Pervy men. Got it. We hate those."

He is still stunned, but aware he needs to do something. But before he can get up, he sees Oliver pull Aiden up the stairs by his hand.

"I'll be right back," he says, stumbling to his feet.

***

He just goes through the door handles in order. Bathroom, empty bedroom. Locked.

Felix stops. Slowly steps closer, bringing his ear to the door.

"Wow..." A chuckle. "Oh, wow." Aiden.

Felix groans, and looks around. What if this is dangerous? But the only person who would know is Ollie. And he - well...seems incapacitated.

"Ollie!!" Felix bangs on the door. No reply.

Instead, a series of moans, breathy and high-pitched and...Oliver.

Felix sighs and slides down the door until he sits on the carpet. He thumps the back of his head against the door and rests it there.

"Don't stop, don't stop...uh...oooooh..."

Christ.

***

"What are you doing, Felix?" Venetia's sing-song voice appears at the top of the staircase.

"Nothing," he says quickly, taking his ear off the door.

A moan floats out through it, causing Venetia to raise her eyebrows. "Who's in there?" she asks.

"Just...Ollie. And this guy."

"You're honestly such a little freak, Felix."

"No, I...I think they got dosed with the potion."

"Oh. Hm. How long have they been in there?"

"Maybe an hour?"

"Oh wow, ok. Well. It's not dangerous. It will wear off eventually, once they get it out of their systems."

Through the door comes a crescendo of - honestly - kind of unhinged moans that announce Oliver to have reached some heretofore unseen height of ecstasy.

"Damn," Venetia smirks. "Your little watcher seems to be enjoying himself."

"I..." Felix swallows. "I have to go."

"Felix." Venetia catches his arm as he tries to brush past. "It's just a potion, yeah?"

"I don't know what you mean," he says, then makes his way down the stairs.

***

On Monday morning, Felix sneaks into the side entrance of the library instead of waltzing in through the main entrance like he usually does.

He takes a moment to observe before he makes himself known. And what he observes is that he looks different. He's standing at the desk, but instead of his usual concentrated hunch, his back is straight as he is tapping away on the ancient library computer with a private little smile on his face.

He stops typing and picks up a sheet of paper, his other hand going to his neck. Other than usual, his shirt has the top two buttons unbuttoned, and his finger is hooking absent-mindedly into a small silver chain around his neck that Felix has never seen before.

"Morning," Felix says, appearing at the desk. Oliver turns to him, dropping his hand. "Morning." He smiles. His skin looks amazing. Glowing. It's a little cliché, honestly.

"Have fun on Saturday?" Felix asks, more acidic than Oliver's friendly demeanor really warrants.

Oliver's eyes widen, then he flushes - reverting back to his awkward, self-conscious self. "Y-you..." -"It was hard to miss," Felix says, a little mean.

Oliver's cheeks are red and it looks very good with his already glowy skin. "I was pollened," he says, pushing his bangs to the side, embarrassed. He looks down at the desk. "I'm sure a lot of people at the party were."

No, they weren't. But Felix doesn't have the heart to tell him about the virgin thing.

"Yeah...lots of people," he lies, instead.

Relief washes over Oliver's face as he looks up. "It's just..." He touches his own earlobe absent-mindedly, rolling the flesh between his fingers, his eyes going a bit unfocused. "I was pollened."

Felix feels like his head is gonna explode. It's too much. Finding out the virgin thing would have been bad enough. But not only did Oliver then lose his v-card at a party Felix dragged him to - he, for all intents and purposes, did so in an hour-long drug-induced fuck marathon. And - and this probably is the worst part... From the way he is acting now, Ollie - awkward, quiet, stutters-when-he's-nervous Ollie - seems to have liked it.

[variousqueerthings]

I've just been spending the last few hours thinking about this ending that I haven't even thought about the whole rest of the episode, I've gotta. I've gotta just

oh boy I've gotta just fuckn

nothing about donna or fourteen or fifteen here just all the rest

1- at first I was thinking that the toymaker was defeated in kind of a simple way, but then on the other hand it's more a setup for some of the things we know is coming in ncuti gatwa's era, with classic!who gods. so the toymaker, yes, gives the opportunity to wrap up this past era and for DT to do those big sad wet eyes of his, but is far more for the next story's benefit in the long run from the sounds of things. also the behind-the-scenes for the game of catch is hilarious. NPH was so good, would be cool to see the toymaker make a reprise just with gatwa

2- ohhhhhhhhhh the Puppetry in this episode! PUPPETS! I am soooo into puppets, I could have spent a million episodes with these creepy fucking puppets, I hope we get more puppets

3- AND speaking of the toymaker, the master in the toymaker's tooth???? I haven't seen dhawan yet, so idk how that all ends, but I did not expect master setup, and I am very happy we did because the master is my favourite (derogatory, what a bitch)

4- RTD talking about the puppet that was broadcast on TV, I knew about that puppet (from getting a quiz answer wrong relatively recently lol), but giving that little historical Moment, now we all know a bit more, I just think it's neat

5- I am still not a fan of UNIT. every time we meet them they're a military force with weaponry that has the potential to do so much harm and... then they lose control of that weaponry. and also do weapons-related stuff that often makes the situation worse. I feel similarly of classic!UNIT who do manage to help out more on the whole, but still are fundamentally military and several times have people who do Bad Shit. dunno, still trying to figure out their place in this narrative other than convenient guns when we need guns. I want them to be more complicated if they come back for the next era, I'd be interested if shirley-ann bingham became a liz shaw type and really questions the limitations and biases that exist within UNIT

6- wait no, going back to point the first I'm soooo excited for the things they've hinted at, stories about gods are my whole damn jam, it's going to be amazing!

7- them playing the prime minister saying he doesn't care about anybody and donna goes "same as always" (or however she says it), listen, it's low-hanging fruit and I am eating it, anything dragging the british government and right wing sentiment is good and necessary for my soul personally

8- one really big Thing is no martha. will never get that closure RIP. argh though freema agyeman and ncuti gatwa could do great things together I think, cmon. one day

I'm sure more things will come up as I think about it, but off the top of my head

[vampiricgf]

when I cast my mail in ballot I thought of bisan. I thought of how she's been wearing the same jacket for over a year. I thought about how it was once green and now looks almost black. I thought of the fact that she has braces, which require consistent dental care. I thought of hind. I thought of all those days emergency responders were forced to spend only communicating with her via radio because in any attempt to reach her they were brutally shot and killed. I thought of how she was afraid of the dark. I thought of the aid trucks, and how despite the risk people so desperately needed that food they ran for the trucks and were mercilessly massacred. I thought of how for over a year our politicians have played a game of sitting on their hands and pretending their eyes don't work, instead placing more value on things like lockheed martin stock or a glorified military base over a human life. I thought about how ignoring and posturing in front of palestinian protestors was more important to a presidential candidate than actually having any semblance of a meaningful conversation and people cheered for it. I thought of how hitting palestinian protestors with signage and heckling them was more appropriate in the eyes of several thousands of people than actually listening to and giving even a sliver of understanding to what they had to say. I thought about how to several millions of people it was not absolutely horrifying to them to learn that a candidate for vice president promised a meeting with family members of those suffering through genocide only to back out at the last second when it was clear that would not just be a sympathy meeting for cameras and a good photo op for a publication.

I do not put my faith in a piece of paper or in someone who doesn't know me or you and has no real interest in providing protection or making improvements, people play politics to win and be the most wealthy and powerful person in a room. In essence, that's the truest motivation for any political aspirant. It's not about service or duty, if it were the responsibility of aid would not be foisted to the average every man when it comes to nearly every single issue while we give billions to our military industrial complex and it's propaganda, gleefully at that. its naive at best, willfully ignorant at worst to believe our collective responsibility begins and ends with a piece of paper, to believe that this time this election will be the magical one that fixes everything as of were not just going to do the same exact shit again in another four years. my faith lies in the people who have been working over the past year in real, tangible ways to provide aid and means of survival. the people who, despite suffering baseless racist attacks, constant smear campaigns, misinformation spread with malicious intent, even having their own lives threatened, have still woken up each day and continued that goal of providing aid in any way, through any avenue that's available. my faith lies in the members of my own community that I've spent countless hours with over the past year, even as they've gone through their own grief and mourning and fought through their own feelings of powerlessness and fear, to do whatever they can to provide help. my faith lies in the people who have donated to fundraisers, to relief organizations, every time they have the opportunity to do so, all the hundreds of thousands of them and the ones who have done so silently. these people have proven again and again that they can see the value in a human life over a weapon's manufacturers stocks. if you value a human life, if you consider any of these things while casting your ballot, and you feel anger and you feel powerless turn your attention to fundraisers that have no yet met their goals. turn it to the aid requests sitting in your inbox. turn it towards the aid organizations that need to be able to provide clothes, sanitary products, medicine, life saving medical intervention. be someone to have faith in. we have more in common with one another then we do with any leader head of any state. I have more in common with the woman I donated to yesterday than I do with any presidential candidate. you have more in common with the boy asking for help to save his family than you do someone blowing hot air on a stage.

[centaurisolarflare]

Im just imagining königs family are all tall-ass giraffes and youre the only shorty in that group. And youre always the target for short jokes whether you like it or not.

You want könig? Gotta power through the short jokes man!

But on the plus side, they'll defend and protect you when someone else mocks you for your height. Theyre the only ones who can bully you >:3

OKAY OKAY BUT LIKE. YOU'RE SO RIGHT. They just think you're so cute and they're not really used to someone so short being around regularly.

They'd absolutely give you shit at every possible opportunity; if there's ever even the slightest chance to make a short joke one of them is going to turn to you with a shit-eating grin and take it. I think at first König would try to shield you as best he could from it – asking his older relatives to please not be rude, scolding his younger siblings/cousins, etc – but as soon as he knows you're fine with it there's no restraining anyones comments.

I think it'd be extra funny if you also work in the military because like, you've been trained to kill – not just kill though, this isn't amateur hour, you take people and organizations out with precision – and these giants are just cooing over you. Same vibes as holding an angry cat out at arms length and calling it 'just the cutest little baby ever'.

If you ever make a joke about your height, they're going to fucking loose it. Start snarking back about them being "tall-ass giraffes" and they're going to propose to you on König's behalf. His brother is like "König this is my sibling-in-law now" with his arm slung over your shoulders, and König is like 'what the fuck happened, I just left to run into town', and it's all because you just spent the past fifteen minutes going back and forth with their dad just absolutely roasting each other while making lunch.

There's defiantly at least one family member, like that particularly uncontainable cousin or clever auntie, who just stood there and rattled off every joke they could think of until they were like "okay I think it's all out of my system for now" and you just about cried laughing over it. That moment probably did a lot to ease König's worry about you getting along with his family.

HOWEVER. As soon as anyone else so much as snickers about it they'd automatically go into this ultra over-protective, "how dare you insult our small one" mode. The person is absolutely fucking terrified because like, they thought they were just joining in on this joke and they laughed, just a little bit, and now there's several startlingly huge people standing around them and glaring and demanding to know where they get off thinking they can insult you and they're regretting every single decision they've made today. Bonus points if König's family was sitting down when this situation started so this person doesn't really know how tall they all are until they're all fangs-bared defending you.

I think it would be so funny if like, his parents were telling a friend of theirs about you and it gets mentioned how tiny you are so this friend is expecting an abnormally short person and when they meet you they're like. this. this is an average sized human being. and König's parents are like hAhaHaha yEaH.

Also, you're going to forever be getting hand-me-downs from family members. If you're keen on mending some farm-work related holes and rips you could have an entire collection of oversized flannels.

[thedragonagelesbian]

Canon Worldstate Questions!

tytyty @omgkalyppso i did um. accidentally post this way too early & hastily delete it, sooo let's try again...

1. your Warden/Hawke/Inquisitor's opinion on Orlais?

vidreu aeducan: for a long time, dru understood orlais almost exclusively in terms of trade, with the chantry lyrium trade being orzammar's economic lifeblood. that made sense to her. orlesian politics do not. while conceptually familiar with the game from her noble upbringing, when she gets her first taste of it in-person after the end of the fifth blight, it is Wayyyy too much for her. orzammar's politics are also cutthroat and status-based, but there's at least (purportedly) this shared understanding and cultural investment in values that dru respects like family honor. the game is absurd to her. the fashion sensibilities are even worse. the overwrought extravagance of the nobility is appalling. the social scripts are opaque and convoluted,. the social pressure is overwhelming.

dru makes like one debut as the famed hero of ferelden then gets shitfaced with loghain to recover and never shows their face in orlesian high society again.

cyrus hawke: he wants to see the empire fall, but until then, at least the aesthetics are fun

yiseeril trevelyan: adores it. everything is ridiculous, and nothing matters at all and everything matters immensely. she wonders often what her life could've been like if she had stayed in ghislain

8. who do they hate the most, and do they have an arch-nemesis

vidreu aeducan: dru's baseline attitude toward everyone is indifference, and that + unhealthy dose of pragmatism makes it hard to hate even people she really should despise like uh. bhelen. or loghain. but they do want to kill flemeth. and i think they could've done it if they had been in the fade for her toying with kieran shit. powers of a goddess be damned.

cyrus hawke: he can't pick just one person. he hates meredith, cullen, aveline, loghain, sister petrice, grand cleric elthina, cassandra, celene, gaspard.................. no arch-nemesis, just a lot of terrible people with power

yiseeril trevelyan: yiseeril is kind of a fake hater asjdpofjf she can be quite casually mean but that's just because it's fun and even the people she should be angry at (the templar who made her tranquil, the first enchanter who lied about her not being harrowed, everyone who took advantage of her while she was tranquil, hell even the maker for permitting her to suffer like this) she. isn't. because she doesn't want to look her hurt directly in the eye and acknowledge it, she just wants to move past it (though she isn't above a little bloody vengeance against that templar when sera tracks him down to try to make her feel better)

10. are they good horse riders?

vidreu aeducan: they would be an excellent griffon rider, but they can't get most animals to trust them.

cyrus hawke: my heart says yes, because it fits into the knight aesthetic so perfectly, but he would get too stressed out about protecting it in battle... if it's just for transportation/to be DramaticTM, it's fine, but in combat, he prefers to be on his own two feet

yiseeril trevelyan: her family had her in a saddle before her magic manifested, and she finagled her way into a pastoral outing or two while in Ghislain. the skills came back to her quickly in inquisition.

11 & 13.

Answered here!

12. attitude toward Mabari?

vidreu aeducan: alistair is convinced for most of the game that dru likes gorim (yes that is what they named the ostagar mabari) more than anyone else in the party, and he's RIGHT. that's their emotional support tether to the past they've been severed from and whom they can show weakness around without fear of reproach, thank you very much!

i also just. like the idea of her mabari also being... a lil more blight haunted than what we get in-game. he did swallow darkspawn blood, after all. sometimes zevran swears he hears them chittering to one another at the edges of camp in the wee hours of the morning.

cyrus hawke: cyrus has a mild phobia of dogs, after a guard sicced one on him as a teen. not a fan.

yiseeril trevelyan: she thinks they're boring adfojpafwe like they're Fine but a real pet should be horse-adjacent and hilarious. like a dracolisk or nuggalope.

14. who are they closest to from their family?

vidreu aeducan: the aeducans were not a close family by any definition of the word, but she and bhelen come out the other side of origins inextricably and painfully bound to one another, genuinely close and strangely caring (the bit in halamshiral in inq about the king depleting orzammar's coffers trying to find the hero of ferelden always gets me...) but also always a few strong drinks away from some light-to-heavy attempted fratricide.

cyrus hawke: it was malcolm, once upon a time. his relationship with leandra has always been strained, and there's a certain distance between him and his siblings (bethany's magic, carver's independence), but cyrus deeply admired his father and has always tried to emulate him. more than that, cyrus felt that malcolm understood and supported him, treating him with gentleness and empathy when his protectiveness and earliest inclinations toward sacrifice got him hurt.

yiseeril trevelyan: no one; yiseeril's family was embarrassed by her magic, and while she was in ghislain, the only person she kept in contact with was her mother. when she was made tranquil, yiseeril presumed that the transfer to ostwick was arranged by her and spent years expecting her visit. it was only later that she discovered the transfer was made by a rival of the trevelyan family to humiliate them further.

24. what languages can they speak?

vidreu aeducan: King's Tongue and Dwarvish

cyrus hawke: the King's Tongue and bits and pieces of Elvish (in addition to prayers, Merrill has taught him a lot of swears, bc it's good for him to vent his anger)

yiseeril trevelyan: King's Tongue, conversational in Orlesian

[shostakobitchh]

Two chapters in a row, the third on the way, and the possible launch of Splitering. What a week! Did you have a good July, that made you have a burst of creativity?

don't give me too much credit, the splintering is still a long ways off

I've just had way more free time; school is out for July & August for me and my husband is working all of July so I've been home basically rotating between writing for hours and video games. I'm also teaching at a summer program so I'm not like, rotting away in my apartment, but that's only for 3 hours every morning and it ends this Friday. But not Real Teaching has freed up a lot of my brain, this past school year was wild.

I think the high turnaround is because the last several chapters haven't been my favorite - they've felt like, very low-key - and that's fine because they were necessary for character development/plot, but I'd really like to get the plot of PoA moving and so chugging out chapters and staying strict to my outline are my only hope. I'd like to have PoA done around Chapter 80 (was supposed to be 65, and then 85, now I'm condensing).

the splintering won't be posted until it's done, and its still being written because I need to stop adding in shit. Like, originally it was a oneshot, and then it became a 10 chapter thing, and then I added in fucking Remus and James, so it's just becoming bigger and bigger. I don't want to post it until it's done, though.

[silvermaplealder]

Sorry for not being very active. I won't be very active for at least another day or so. Unfortunately some shit has happened on the farm and the past few days have been hellish.

Someone has been trespassing on our property and causing problems. Not just me, but they've been also targeting my landlord too. My days have been so incredibly busy trying to undo shit that's happened. Catching loose cows, catching loose rabbits, and juggling two jobs. I quite literally just came inside from working on a new fence for the cows after the previous one had been broken (from the cows panicking in a severe thunderstorm last night).

I'm tired. I'm exhausted. I unfortunately don't have any energy to come here and interact with anyone. I just want to sleep but I have to get up in 5.5 hours if I expect to move the cows before I go to work tomorrow. Oh yeah, and I just started working seven days a week. Yay.

I'll be back soon. I just need a moment. Another couple days or so. This also applies to any side blog that I may or may not run.

[patchdotexe]

doip. / 9.15.23: Axeholm, again

joins call. jorb tells me that they're discussing if we'd rather fight one horse-sized spoink or several spoink-sized horses We Are Now Talking About Pikmin.

LAST TIME, ON DERAGON IF ICESPIRE PEAK: OUR HEROES ARRIVE AT HTE OFORGOTTEN DRAWRVEN FORTRESSO GF AXHOLE . WE . FRONT GATE LOCKED. CAREFUL INTILFRATION , IM FUCKING THIS UO PSO BA D. DAUBLE. HOWEVER, A HORRIBLE STENCH PERMEATED THESE HALLS, AND THE SOURCE WAS QUICKLY DISCOVERED TO BE FOUL DWARVEN GHOULS ROAMING THE HALLS. AREPO'S RESEARCH SUGGESGTED AXEHOLM HAD FALLEN TO A BANSHEE IN AGES PAST. WILL OUR HEROES BE ABLE TO SECURE AXEHOLM? FIND OUT…….. TODAY! THIS SUCKS SO BAD

Last time, on Dragon of Icespire Peak!

Our heroes arrived at the forgotten dwarvern fortress of Axeholm, seeking to ensure that it's safe for refugees from Phandalin should the need arise. Upon arrival, they found the front gate locked, but after a careful infiltration through arrows slits in the walls, Dauble was able to open the doors for the rest of the group. However, a horrible stench permeated these halls, and the source was quickly discovered to be foul dwarvern ghouls, roaming the halls in undeath, including one carrying a signet ring with Axeholm's crest. Arepo's research suggested that the fortress had fallen at the hands of a banshee in ages past, which may well still be haunting the lost fortress. After several battles against the risen, and more yet to come, will our heroes be able to secure Axeholm? Find out, today!

DIRECTLY INTO INITIATIVE! right i forgot we left off right before an encounter fixing the issue from last time of "deleting tokens blows up initiative" by putting invisible men under the ground. like fallout nyx put on 1 Hour Of Silence Interrupted By Pikmin Noises and got jumpscared

green: my father was a pikmin jorb: oh! green: don't ask.

arepo's up to bat! time for vicious mockery. oh hey we can see healthbars now jorb: how are you giving kepesk bardic inspiration? green: you just hand it to me.

[insert the "dauble!" "boggle!" conversation Again - NYX HAS ONCE AGAIN BEEN JUMPSCARED BY PIKMIN nyx: ok im normal, im normal. i have a pikmin on my shoulder but its vibing, im here jorb: wildshape into a pikmin. 2 inches tall

dauble does not wildshape into a pikmin. dauble is using word of radiance! -oh they're not close enough nevermind. wait no they've moved into range. WORD OF RADIANCE!

oh right. walls exist. kepesk sadly cant clip through walls. thankfully attack of opportunity bounces right off him!

hm. gettin kinda crowded in here

HOLY SHIT MY CROSSBOW WORKED. IT ACTUALLY GOT A KILL FOR ONCE. WILD . also used a nat20 to annihilated a guy with 2hp left Consultation Saving Throw - ah oh no dauble is now paralyzed . that's an issue. OH GOD THEY GET AUTO-CRIT NOW IF ANYBODY MELEES THEM? THAT'S AN ISSUE

jorb: you feel necrotic energy seeping into your limbs and you cant move. nyx: or speak. jorb: your mouth is a limb! leo and jason: Hm.

arepo is casting sleep! OOPS NEVERMIND UNDEAD AREN'T AFFECTED BY SLEEP. time for another vicious mockery (and also whacking dauble with bardic inspiration. 🎶 walk it off walk it off walk it off) jorb: dauble, it's your turn! you are paralyzed and inspired! hooray, the inspiration got dauble back on their feet! still surrounded by ghouls (and lizards) though

kepesk being the change he wants to see in the world (killing people)! ghouls cant fall asleep but they CAN feel shame

green: [rolls a 23 on a con save] jorb: would you like to use your bardic inspiration? green: UHH?????? (she was fine)

jason: i think i broke something. leo: WHAT IS HAPPENING TO YOU?? (apparently he rolled two nat10s back to back. he's also fine)

DAUBLE KNOWS INFLICT WOUNDS. SURE. A NECROMANCY SPELL. SURE. anyway they are inflicting the hell out of those wounds

nyx: im going to grab [the ghoul] by the neck and bash his head into the floor. leo: HOLY SHIT jason: i ""cast"" inflict wounds nyx: and he's going to get fucking raptured. he's going to wilhelm scream himself out of existence kepesk: I DIDN'T KNOW THEY COULD DO THAT!

well! that's one way to end an encounter! don't you hate it when you're paralyzed so you have to reduce a zombie to a fine dust

arepo has found a platinum amulet with a hammer and anvil! and also a little chest. jason: what horrible monster have i unleashed. jorb: the mimic eats you. um - oh hey arepo finds another potion! oh its labeled this time so he doesnt need to drink to find out. superior healing!

dauble's hoarding instinct is kicking in. wuh oh alidaar: i put a hand on dauble's face and shove them away like a misbehaving cat. hmm. dauble doesn't like the amulet, actually. oh its the symbol of moradin, the dwarven god of creation! alidaar's holding onto it for now.

jorb: so you're heading up the stairs, dauble? leo: dauble! green: dauble! jason: daubling up the stairs.

WUH OH. BANSHEE.

jorb: its face becomes a mask of rage as it screams G [cuts out]

dauble: uh. guys? kepesk: treasure? :D alidaar: i dont think treasure screams. arepo: well, sometimes. alidaar: …do you have experience in screaming treasures?? kepesk: i had a treasure that screams, actually. …it's a long story. alidaar: huh. neat. kepesk: it doesn't scream anymore though alidaar: why does that sound so concerning

kepesk: [to the banshee] dude, you gotta get out of here, there's a banshee in the castle TIME FOR INITIATIVE

leo: [checking tracker] ooh, she has a name! (jorb: how's the pikmin noises going?) jason: most people have one. she has a "hello my name is vyldara" sticker (she does not)

arepo leading the battle with vicious mockery! and telling the banshee she's off-key for 1 psychic damage.

jorb: she uses horrifying visage. so everyone in 60 feet that can see her - green: alidaar can't see.

jorb: i'm assuming he's been looking around the corner! leo: yeah he's peering around scooby doo style

WUH OH . everybody but arepo failed their wisdom save! - nevermind, dauble got advantage bc They've Seen Worse. the reptile duo are now scared shitless what are lizards afraid of that mammals arent? pufferfish.

ah no this sucks. we can't move willingly closer and we have disadvantage in line of sight. thiiiis suuuuuuucks kepesk tries throwing a javelin! unfortunately, shaky hands from Absolute Terror makes a miss. man what am i gonna do

green: if we win, i'll pick [the javelin back] up. nyx: IF???????

OOF. NAT 2 AND NAT 1. kepesk has dropped the javelin on his foot

the fact that the two heavy hitters are frightened is not good, actually. i mean dauble and arepo are pretty good at what they do but kepesk and alidaar are both the up-close brawlers and they are currently unable to get up close and have a disadvantage on brawling.

DAUBLE WALKS UP. SMACKS KEPESK UP ON THE HEAD. "GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER" it is REALLY funny that the tiny halfling and the bookworm bard are completely unaffected by this and the two beefy lizards are weeping and wailing in terror

kepesk: you wouldn't get it, it's a lizard thing, alidaar: she's a pufferfish!

dauble knows turn undead! apparently they did this before and i forgot

nyx: im going to hold up my - jesus christ i forgot about the pikmin. jorb: you hold up your pikmin!

dauble is using shadow clone juitsu! sure. dauble 2: the second one. green: cmon kid we've gotta save dauble… 2!

discussing if we can throw kepesk or not. unfortunately we cant green: so long, gay kepesk! jorb: thank you for playing my game!

I Am Going To Shove Kepesk . i have shoved kepesk

kepesk: [TERRIFIED SCREAMING AS HE IS SHOVED FIVE FEET TOWARDS THE BANSHEE]

alidaar ducked out of line of sight and shook off the fear! shoving kepesk made him feel better.

jorb: arepo conjures a spray of spectral black lotuses. jason: i'm trying to think of a magic card with ugly art to be like "oh, you think that's bad?" nyx: he throws pot of greed. green: wait, but what does that card do?! leo: IT ALLOWS ME TO DRAW TWO CARDS AND ADD THEM TO MY HAAAAAAAAAAAND

arepo has showered the banshee in a spray of ugly-ass cards.

wuh oh. arepo and kepesk having to make con saves against a mournful wail! kepesk rolled a 1 but thankfully he has bardic inspiration - ah wait no he's one short. AH OH GOD DIRECTLY TO ZERO

Dauble Has Entered Kill Mode . INFLICT WOUNDS!

………..oh my god there's no effect.

green: ..so what happens if we all die? like is that it, we delete the discord, [..] jason: is kepesk still afraid while dead? green: kepesk is on a second adventure in his brain where it's like YOU'LL FAIL and he's like NO, MY FRIENDS ARE WITH ME

The Unconscious Kepesk Is No Longer Frightened green: in my dream state, im having a miniboss battle

hm . i cant really do much from where i'm at even after running up, i'd have to close the distance somehow before using any of my runes… jorb: you could use your crossbow! leo: alright. fuck it.

leo: WHOA! [..] alright, i'm using my crossbow again!

leo: … [strained] i love my crossbow, it sucks so bad

arepo has given kepesk the superior healing potion! wahoo! chekhov's potion in full effect green: the potion was cursed and because you used the action to give it to me, i'm fully cursed. jason: why would you say that? kepesk hugging arepo and weeping

huh. the banshee has Left. well. kepesk is giving chase through the closest door!

leo: [EXPLOSIVE LAUGHTER] jorb: what, what's happened?? leo: the - the state of the room! green: not just the state of the room…

green: …you'll see it is NOT CONNECTED.

kepesk stomps out of the room and his rage activates on its own ah. the room kepesk went in has a stone tub full of gnawed dwarven bones. great!

nyx: i have a question. is the banshee smart enough to know dauble 2 isn't real? jorb: is kepesk smart enough to know dauble 2 isn't real? green: kepesk 100% thinks there's two daubles.

hm. alidaar can't get in the room. CROSSBOW TIME jason: oh, he's shooting into the door? jorb: alidaar shouts "dauble, duck!" nyx: both daubles duck.

crossbow just BARELY hits - leo: i'm using my fire rune! GUESS WHAT I REMEMBERED - guess what i realized my crossbow counts as a weapon!

rolling my physical dice bc i like doing that once a session i guess! oh god i have to get on the floor to roll my physical dice . oh god ive unplugged my headset. great googly moogly its all going to shit

OH . GREAT. SHE HAS A RESISTANCE TO FIRE AND IS IMMUNE TO BEING RESTRAINED. AKA THE TWO THINGS MY FIRE RUNE DOES. MAN

we have another pile up.

green: IF I COMPEL DUEL THEM, WILL THEY GET AN ATTACK OF OPPORTUNITY FROM ALL THREE OF THEM? [..] jason: definitely cast compel duel on the creature that's demonstrated an attack that goes in a straight line [and kills us instantly].

i appear to have spaced out at a bad time. is green rolling to see which ally to slap to keep kepesk's rage going nevermind, kepesk has bit a ghost. jason: refreshing, tangy ectoplasm. jorb: it's kinda like biting a lacroix?

jorb: using your noggin! leo: you're THINKING! nyx: i'm thinking!! jason: Now You're Thinking With Daubles [...] jorb: so true, bestie. i mean, b-slur nyx: WHY WOULD YOU CALL ME A SLUR NOW OF ALL TIMES green: I SPACED OUT FOR A SECOND, HUH? leo: ME TOO?? (nyx has a running joke where he says b-slur instead of bestie)

HERE COMES ALIDAAR WITH A STEEL CHAIR!! jorb: how would you like to do this? leo: ……………i don't know! alidaar fuckin Vaults over arepo and slaps that bitch apart. LET'S GO

alidaar pets dauble on the head. alidaar pets dauble 2 on the head. dauble 2 evaporates

dauble stares kepesk down and tells him "be more careful next time. i can't afford to lose you." alidaar holds out the most awkward fistbump and goes "aayyyyy, gettin knocked down and yelled at for it buddies…!"

jorb showed off the banshee stat block and it has SO MANY RESISTANCES AND IMMUNITIES. ITS IMMUNE TO COLD. FUCK MY LIFE FOREVER

jorb: there's another bedroom [..] who puts their bed in the middle of the room, god damn. GOD DAMNIT I ALERTED THE HORDE (STIRGES) dauble wakes up, goes FUCK YOU, and explodes a stirge

arepo: there's bugs in there. kepesk: ew!

jason: are they bugs? jorb: they look like this but smaller. [posts image] green: every time you show me this it looks more and more disgusting.

arepo has viciously mocked the final stirge . arepo: the rest of you already left, what are you still doing here =/

alidaar has rolled an 11 to smack the stirge like a mosquito. that's a miss. this is incredibly embarrassing EVERYONE IS TRYING TO SLAP THE STIRGE OFF ALIDAAR. AND FAILING NEVERMIND. KEPESK HAS FLICKED THE STIRGE INTO A WALL WITH A NAT 20 UNARMED STRIKE. FUCKING CLOWNSHOW

things the fireplace contains: 100 more stirges, a banshee, the second boar, sephiroth,

Everyone Has Become Fascinated With This Fireplace

jorb: any magic items you miss will go in the dragon hoard. nyx: jorb i am going to go to your house and eat you jorb: that's what i've been doing! any loot goes in the dragon hoard! leo: we've been REALLY bad at looting things.

dauble has found a chest! time to put the signet ring in it dauble: put the ring in there. kepesk: oh, jeffrey! nyx: dauble stares at him. green: i don't know why it's jeffrey the ring on my character sheet.

kepesk: nooo i dont wanna go in there, youre gonna cask of amontillado me! dauble: i will if you dont put the ring in there!

ooo! fancy helmet and fancy gauntlets! green: [hopeful] wearable for lizardpeople? jorb: eh, you can make it work.

dauble has decided to shove the items in their bag and scoot out. dauble please. dauble you have 10 magic items. dauble we're dying

oh hey this place has hot water! and also bones in the tub but that's fine

I Roll An Eight On Animal Handling To Find Out There's A Naturally Heated Hot Spring Underground

okay i guess we're cleaning the bone tub. cool

WE HAVE KNOWN AREPO FOR LIKE, A WEEK, WE ARE NOT GETTING NAKED IN THE BONE TUB WITH HIM arepo has decided to walk away. kepesk doesn't shower. Roll To See If Dauble Has Seen A Capybara (they have not)

jorb: alidaar, what are you doing? leo: staring at the binturong. wondering how his life got to this moment. alidaar sits in the tub with his entire armor on.

Advancement Unlocked: How Did We Get Here?

Time To Interrogate Dauble (in the bath) hoo boy! alidaar is very suspicious of dauble's newfound necromantic magic, but dauble keeps brushing it off because they dont want to lose anybody else - tobias isn't the first person theyve lost, and if this helps them keep people safe, then its fine. alidaar tells them "if you didn't want to lose people, you made a bad choice becoming an adventurer." it gets Supremely Awkward bc of them being in the Bone Tub and alidaar exits stage left

jason: does the binturong popcorn smell get stronger when wet?

Kepesk Is Now The Chosen Lizard (binturong has climbed up on kepesk's shoulder) nyx: dauble is not speaking to any of their lizards right now.

hm. the walls in here are covered with weird secretions that would allow creatures to walk on walls and ceilings…. like a gecko…………….

GIANT GECKOS (hey remember last time when i mentioned jorb said he needed to reskin some monsters)

jorb: first up is the immune to ninjas dauble "dauble!" "dauble!"

unfortunately arepo is out of spell slots and wasnt able to regain them on a short rest. this will be a problem most likely

WHAT . ALIDAAR TWOSHOT A GECKO . SURE (breath weapon + dragonslayer crit) and kepesk follows up with nearly taking a gecko down! off to a great start :D

OH NO IM BEING YOSHI'D

jorb: do you have any bonus actions? leo: uhhh, i do, but i dont think it would help me any.. or be good for anyone around me…… jorb: your breath weapon? oh, no, that's- leo: giant's might. |D; jorb: oh! green: shove kepesk down the stairs. jorb: that's a wall, not a railing, so.. green: smushes kepesk against the wall. nyx: you hear - [mario super mushroom soundboard] - and kepesk gets smushed

(i have decided to not use giant's might)

jorb announces the start of a round with "[name], you're up! with [next] on deck." and it's very fun. it reminds me of being in theatre for some reason

jorb: and that's a natural 1! nyx: take double damage! -no not actually jorb: i believed you! you could've lied to me! leo: always lie to your dm. it is always morally correct

I HAVE FINALLY USED MY INSPIRATION . leo: i have had that inspiration for a literal year. green: WHAT

GIANT'S MIGHT TIME . where's the funny button [SUPER MUSHROOM NOISE]

meanwhile, kepesk continues killing

arepo gives alidaar bardly inspiration by playing the godzilla theme. or jurassic park because that's the only one any of us can remember at the time. wait no green remembered it, jorb had to google it though

jorb: how do you want to do this? leo: UM. I HAVE A FUNNY IDEA BUT I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO THIS,

GIANT LIZARD ON GIANT LIZARD WRESTLING MATCH . alidaar chucks a gecko down the stairs. amazing way to end an encounter YET AGAIN . the gecko also has a very delayed explosion after we leave

kepesk's time for a fireplace adventure! a gecko eats his head and he dies instantly. no hes fine

OKAY! one nap later and we've cleaned up axeholm best we can, so time to go back to phandalin!

…ah . uh oh. there's a shadow over phandalin. cryovain swoops down, then flies off east. BOOKIN IT TO PHANDALIN AAAAAAAAAAA

nyx: oh god, did he take the barrel crab?! green: NOOO! THE BARREL CRAAAAAAAB!

oh god. ice and talon marks outside barthen's provisions. everybody's in a panic. OH HEY SILDAR'S HERE sildar was kepesk's traveling companion! and also became barry bluejeans in another universe but that's not really relevant. rest of the wilders are in neverwinter though

NOOOO OH MY GOD CRYOVAIN STOLE VINCENT…….. MAN………………..

OH . SURE. we have gotten paid 250 gold for axeholm! also alidaar is trying to be the coolest guy in the room, sorry kepesk </3 alidaar has handed the 250 gold over to dauble. we are never getting it back

sildar: do you know where the dragon's lair is? alidaar: [nervous sweating]

oh thank god. dauble does.

sildar: i wish you best of luck as you go out to slay… the dragon of icespire peak. leo: YIIPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

(there was also some after session discussion about what dauble's deal is! apparently something that got left out of my notes TWO YEARS AGO during the dwarven excavation was that dauble got the cursed necklace from the body of a dwarven cleric. their name being dauble is a Recent Development, and it happens to translate to "treasure" or "valuable". they've become very possessive of the party, just like they've become possessive of any treasure in proximity. they dislike the moradin pendant. I'M SURE THIS IS FINE.)