#but there's a fountain here and people like to get naked in the fountain

[bingsucks]

I just went to pride so here's what I think the study group would be doing at pride

Abed: he and Troy would be cosplaying inspector spacetime and constable Reggie, and Abed would stop every time they see a furry to take a picture with them -- he likes to say he admires their craft and dedication to said craft (because seriously those things are super expensive and intricate).

Troy: as stated previously, he would be cosplaying. I also firmly believe he would be trying SO hard not to look at the people in bondage or the just free-flying boobs because he doesn't want to disrespect someone's privacy. he's also a pride flag wearer change my mind

Annie: Annie would be part of the parade, she would be the sole creator of a Greendale float. if she's not part of it, she would find the drag queen stages and just stand at the back of the crowd swaying a little bit.

Britta: piss drunk the second she sees her first rainbow feather boa. like Annie, she's with the drag queens/live music, but she's in the front and very aggressively dancing. she spits on the cops of course, and runs naked through a fountain just for fun.

Jeff: standing in the 21+ area holding one singular palm-sized rainbow flag trying to get with every pasty-wearing person he sees (shamelessly because he's very drunk). incrementally he will find someone blowing bubbles and go "hit me" just for fun, it's like splashing water in your face but... soap.

Shirley: Shirley has one of those signs that are like "don't understand but I support!" or "be gay or whatever." she would have one of the booths for Shirley's Sandwiches and be offering a "limited rainbow sandwich" that has every flavor and none of them work together, but THEY SELL because it's PRIDE and RAINBOWS.

Frankie: Frankie is a coordinator, she walks around the event (collecting the free shit and) making sure everything is in working order. she might even introduce the performers.

Chang is wearing a neon banana hammock and crocs, walking around and insulting everyone.

The Dean is standing in the middle of the drag queen crowd, in FULL drag, just continuously saying "yeah these queens, man, they're great I guess, if you're into that thing of course."

[morallygreychaoticneutral]

Astarion was not a "corrupt" magistrate.

Hello again. Just more opinion about my favorite battle buddy. Warning, trigger words in use. Game spoilers.

It's not quite set in stone that Astarion really was a magistrate, but we are going to go with the idea he was for this thought pocket. Also this is just game as it is now info use.

I don't believe he was corrupt magistrate. There were a few things in the game that called that out, but one in particular really set it in stone for me.

His response to the Ansur lair puzzle regarding justice.

Astarion: “Mercy?! Please. Justice should be a harsh lesson. All the better to deter the next vagabond.”

This makes me think he was a bit of a hard ass as a magistrate, but not corrupt. Had he been dealing dirty in the background I really feel like this answer would have been more dismissive or flippant. But he is pretty intent that this is his stance. Very, iv said this a thousand times, type feel.

I think, he was more of a by the book, law is law type. You murder and rape you swing from the gallows. You steal from a shop keeper, you do time. Period.

My theory is, he got beat up because he wasn't lenient with a member of the Gur that was on trial.

"Leniency?! You have been found guilty of negligence resulting in the death of a innocent! You are owed nothing!"

Could you hear it?

"But he talks about being hedonistic and indulgent all the time. "

Yes, but most patriar level citizens were spoiled entitled brats that did what they desired. Have you talked to some of them in the upper city? Yeeesh.

Was he arrogant? Most likely. Prejudice? Obviously (insert gnomes here). But being a haughty jerk does not make one evil.

Sex, nudity, orgies, parties, over indulging etc are not taboo in Faerun. If everybody is consenting to be being naked in a fountain, hopefully in a private villa garden, its not a crime. He talks about that like its a memory, but I like to think his wine drunk giggly ass was actually in that fountain.

If you want to have a little rabbit hole fun, break down the name. Faerun = Fae Run = Run by the Fae. And last I checked, fairies were always down for some naked in the water time. I mean, come on, you can go to pound town with a bear. (No offence, Halsin.) You think they are going to draw the line at how may wieners you can have in the same pot? I think not.

I think the criminal behavior came after he was turned. Cazador may have been targeting him, but not because they were involved. But maybe due to him looking like his old master Vellioth? And he took advantage of a situation. Who knows, lots of ideas there.

"But he's always getting onto Tav for doing the "right" thing."

Yup, Tav is being too trusting and getting too involved with other peoples problems. Why is this an issue for Astarion? Kindness was what got him entombed for a year. He cared about that sweet mans life and was severally punished for it. Its akin to being mauled by a dog and then watching people just reach out a pet every one they see. The anxiety of that attack is still there and it paints every encounter with its opinion. Danger.

"He's not smart enough."

Oh I bet he is. You can be whip smart at a subject and socially akward at the same time. I'm very good at my job. I know it inside and out and can give you any detail, rule, configuration at the drop of a hat in the most professional and proficient way possible. But ask me to be eloquent in a social situation? HA! You are better off asking a rock to fart. Unrelated.

"But he wants to ascend, and that's evil."

That is more about who is is after years of torment and abuse. Not before.

I think the rogue role was adopted to stay alive while hunting. And what a gods awful fate to be turned into the thing you hated the most. A criminal.

I'm sure Caz was real tickled by that. Expletive Adjective.

[theblue6ook]

"Other Lovers" PT 3

Summary: Y/N is realizing the end of her relationship with Russ is near. Bruce is realizing he might like Y/N more than he leads on.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

a/n: Hello lovelies. There will be a part four to this. There will be some flirting happening here with Bruce and Y/N so stay tuned.  [B (23) Y/N (22)] [Eventual slow burn with Bruce] [Y/N/N is your nickname] Apart of my Out of My League series btw.

Bruce did not regard himself as a touchy, feely person. In fact, many people called him detached. Even as Bachelor Bruce, he wasn’t a big toucher, but he could not keep his hands off of Y/N. He knew Rachel noticed. He knew his staff noticed. He knew he shouldn’t, but he was just so comfortable with her.

It honestly had happened out of nowhere. She hadn’t even been his assistant long, maybe a few months? But they spent almost every single day together; it was hard not to get comfortable. Everything in him, especially The Bat, was telling him to knock it off, but he couldn’t. His hands traced her shoulder, walking her into the green room. He was excited to show her the present that awaited them. Her shoulder tensed with surprise when she noticed the large cake towards the center of the room. His hand slid down the curve of her spine toward her waist. Fingertips playing with her silk dress. 

Y/N couldn’t help but feel guilty, her heart speeding up as she felt his fingertips press into the flesh at her waist. She giggled, slightly overwhelmed. She wasn’t sure whether to focus on the singing, the cake illuminating the center of the room, or Bruce’s body heat against her back. 

He had leaned down to whisper in her ear, “I hope this makes up for earlier. Happy Birthday.” 

His lips almost grazed the shell of her ear. Firmly, she held onto his arm against her waist to steady her. Clapping erupted, interrupting her fogged mind and bringing her back to the cruel reality. I am engaged. I am engaged, and I don’t want to be. Despite her initial attitude with Bruce Wayne, he was him. She was glad he wasn't necessarily the bachelor everyone made him out to be. He was smart and funny and so stubborn. He was gorgeous. That's one thing the papers didn't lie about; they almost didn't even do him justice. She could feel every hard curve of his skin against her back.

She turned to smile at him, speaking over the clapping, “What is this cake?!” 

“It’s huge!” Carrie interjected, taking her hand off Bruce’s arm to clap as well. 

"You didn't think I'd get you a cake on your birthday?" he grinned teasingly. "Are you surprised?"

“I’m surprised,” she hugged him tightly, and he returned it just as tight. 

The birthday activities had resumed in various ways. Bruce had to sneak off and entertain his vast amount of guests. Carrie and Y/N feasted on birthday cake, then dinner, then cake again. It was a magical affair. She felt pleasantly drunk off cocktails, and Carrie giggled at Y/N’s lightheadedness. They decided to do a lap around the restaurant; it was like nothing they had ever seen before. Each room had a different color scheme; every table was set to the high heavens. It was like what she had imagined while reading The Great Gatsby. Once they had explored enough, they came back to the green room only to notice a crowd was gathering.

Bruce had to work fast. As stupid as this seemed, he desperately needed a distraction. One of Bane’s followers was here. Bruce caught him parading around as a waiter when he took him out, discretely, of course. They had been looking for their target, the CEO of Ace Chemicals, and though he had handled the waiter, there was no telling if there was another one of Bane’s goons in the area. So, Bruce needed a distraction while his staff politely escorted the CEO out, and he needed one fast. He needed a crowd. He needed people.

Y/N turned to her left, and there he was, in the view past her vast birthday cake, swimming in the tiger fountain with the half-naked ballerinas. It was his restaurant. What could the staff do but watch? She was his assistant. What could the staff do but watch? 

Feeling almost embarrassed, there was a tightness in her chest. Y/N glanced to her left to look away from the scene, and she noticed Rachel in a similar position. There she was, looking over at him, disappointed and discouraged. It’s like they were at two opposite ends of the same spectrum. The old lover. The new crush.

The cruel reality came back to her once more. He is him. He is Bruce Wayne, and I am his assistant. He is Gotham’s finest bachelor, and I’m engaged. 

“We should go,” she mumbled to Carrie. 

After messaging Alfred, he was there in no time, and they had plopped into the back of the Rolls Royce silently. Alfred could tell the night had not gone exactly as planned, but he opted to ask Y/N about it later. Y/N’s mind wandered as she stared out towards the passing buildings until she noticed they were coming up on East Merchant Street. That’s the street near the bar Russ works at.

“You can pull over here,” she suddenly stated. 

Carrie grabbed Y/N’s arm and turned to her, looking concerned, “Where do you think you’re going?”

Y/N ignored the question, “Alfred, will you take Carrie home?”

“Y/N,” she said firmly. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Finally, sighing, Y/N turned to Carrie, “I need to have a conversation with my fiance.” She raised her eyebrow and gave Carrie a look that said this is serious. Hesitantly, Carrie let go of Y/N’s arm, but before she could get out of the car, Carrie snatched her once again.

“You call Alfred the minute you need to come home,” her gaze was serious. “I’m waiting up for you, and I’m not kidding. The minute you need to come back.”

Y/N heard Alfred repeat a similar phrase, and she looked toward Carrie, nodding. She gave her a quick hug before stepping back from the vehicle and watching them drive off, taillights reflecting in the puddles on the street. Inhaling, she started her trek down the sidewalk.

Y/N was at a crossroads. She knew she should have expected some wildly Bruce Wayne scene tonight, but she was disappointed. For a moment, she got to pretend like all of her problems had drifted. Like her engagement wasn’t falling apart. Like she was just a single twenty-two-year-old woman with her best friend out in society, flirting with the idea of men. When Bruce jumped into that fountain, it reminded her that the man she had thought about so much tonight was her boss. He was the most notorious bachelor in Gotham. Her fiance was drifting away. She was drifting away, and after all the shitty things Russ had done, she still cared for him. So, tonight, she was giving them one more chance. To talk, to laugh, to make love. She just needed one night to see if there was still something there for them.

She walked down the steps into Pipers. It was a sleazier bar, like an off-brand Hooters, with more alcohol. The men down here were different in a weird way, always looking at the waitress' assets. Originally, she had protested Russ working here, but he said the people like to drink a lot, and more drinks means more money. She heard a low whistle coming from behind the bar. Y/N turned, expecting it to be Russ, but instead, it was just Tony, the GM.

“What are you up to, honey?” Tony smiled softly at her. Tony was notorious for being an asshole, but he had always had a soft spot for Y/N ever since she spent her last summer tutoring his daughter.

“Hey Tony, I’m actually looking for Russ.”

He raised his eyebrow, “Russ? He told me he was taking a half-day.”

All the blood drained from her face. Was he hiding something?

“Did he?” she said breathlessly.

He inhaled and rose from his seat at the back of the bar, almost knocking his beer belly against the counter. He wiggled his finger for her to come closer as he leaned over the bartop like he had to tell her something in secret. “One of our servers here said she was going to drive him to meet you.”

“Do you think he’s at my apartment?” she questioned. After rubbing his gelled hair, he threw his arms out in a questioning manner, but he didn’t look as hopeful as she was. She whispered once more, “I mean, it’s Russ, right? It’s not like it could… be anything.”

Nodding, he cleared his throat, “Why don’t you uh check in with our server first? See where she drove him.” He pulled out a thick binder from the back of the counter and started flipping the pages. “I’m not allowed to share personal information about my employees, but I’m just gonna leave this right here and go do a lap around the bar.”

Winking at her, he moved away from the bartop and started doing his rounds. Y/N pulled the large binder over to her, looking at the page he had turned to. Her mouth dropped. Mary Fucking Anne. Y/N had met her years ago, and she had been nice enough. She was the type of woman who couldn’t be alone. Not because she didn’t know how but because the men at the bar kept her so busy. Y/N had praised her before for being so adventurous, but she didn’t realize she’d be adventurous with engaged men.

Snapping a picture of the book and scanning for an address, she quickly slid the binder back behind the counter and stepped out of the bar. 

Walking down the cold street in her thin red dress, she thought to herself it’s not like that. It can’t be like that. We’ve been engaged since we were eighteen. It’s been years. It’s not like that. In her head, she was hoping she knew the way it would play out. She’d get to Mary Anne’s and ask her where Russ was. Mary Anne would turn to her and say oh, I dropped him at your apartment because Russ has terrible common sense and probably didn’t realize The Ocelot takes more time than Chuck’s Chili. Then, she’d get home and Russ would be there, and they’d laugh about it. Yes, that has to be what happens. It can’t not be what happens because if she gets to Mary Anne’s and that’s not what happens, that is more than four years of her life wasted. That is not only her fiance but one of her best friends betraying her. Someone who was with her through everything and would amount to nothing. 

Looking at the address on her phone and back up at the building, here it was, Mary Anne's. It was a small dingy building about two blocks away from Pipers. Y/N looked up the steps toward the common door. It wasn’t likely the common door would be open, but she decided to try it anyway. Stepping up the stairs, she pulled, and there was nothing. Pulling again, it was like some divine intervention. The building lights flickered, and the magnetic lock holding the door closed let go. Y/N was too worried about the task at hand to even question it. Taking steps two at a time, she almost tripped on her red grown, but here she was. Apartment 24.

The noise already betrayed them. Trying the door, it happened to be unlocked. They had clearly been in a rush to get inside. Unapologetic, she threw the door open, and there they were against the countertop, a mesh of limbs and lipstick. But after taking in the state of the apartment, that wasn't even the worst part. His things were here.

Mary Anne squealed, trying to cover herself with a dishtowel, and Russ tried squeezing back into his pants, abandoning Mary Anne to rush over to Y/N, apologizing. “What are you doing here, baby? It’s - I’m sorry-”

The way she looked at him had him stopping in his tracks. Not another word came out of his mouth. Mary Anne still shrunk in the corner, trying to cover herself, shivering with shame. She slowly started to wander around the apartment. “You told me you didn’t want me over until your landlord renovated your apartment.” 

“Baby, I just-”

“-You’re moving in with her,” she said disgusted, turning to him. She grabbed at the records on the wall. She had gotten him each one for his birthday. With clenched teeth, she said, “These are our things, Russ.”

“They’re still our things,” he tried to reason, tears in his eyes, realizing his actions were finally catching up to him. 

Mary Anne had since forgotten her towel and modesty, pushing at Russ’s shoulder angrily, “They’re our things. You’re living with me-”

The sound of cracking had her silent. Crushed records lay at the bottom of Y/N’s red dress. Russ had looked like he’d been shot. 

“Four years,” Y/N mumbled, dropping the last record and crushing it into her heel. She stepped around the room once again. No one wanted to say a thing; it was like waiting for a bomb to go off. On the coffee table was the vase she made him in pottery class in high school. It was her first gift to him, and now it was holding the flowers he brought home to another woman. She picked it up, dumping the flowers and water onto the uneven wooden floor. She held the vase by the tip of her pointer finger.

“Y/N,” he started bawling, “I don’t have an excuse for it, but I love you. Please-” Mary Anne gasped at his statement, running toward her bedroom sobbing, leaving the pair alone. “I can’t live without you. Even if we’re not together, you’re one of my best friends-”

The vase landed with a shatter, and she started to walk towards the door. He dropped to his knees and wailed, “You’re just going to throw everything we have away!”

Turning to him, red with anger, she noticed the guitar mounted to the wall. It was something she had gotten him with her first Wayne Enterprises paycheck. With a scream and a cry, she swept the guitar off the wall and smashed it next to him. After taking a breath and looking at her surroundings, she finally stormed out of the apartment. Wet, hot tears finally smeared down her face as she approached the exit and screamed into the open air. Russ was not far behind. His sadness turned to anger, and he quickly gripped the front of her arms despite her protests.

“You think you can just throw me away!?”

“We’re done, Russ!” she struggled in his grip but continued. “I’m disgusted by you. I wish I never met you!” He raised his hand to her, but there was a sudden crack against Russ’s hand, and blood started to drip down his arm. There, lying on the concrete, was a sharp piece of metal in the outline of a bat. Thunder rolled, and there was a flash of lightning. Russ looked up, turning white like he'd seen a ghost, but by the time Y/N had turned around, there was nothing.

Now alone, she stared down at the little metal bat, and then her focus changed to the cracked engagement ring on her left ring finger. Slowly sliding it off her finger, she let it fall out of her palm and toward the gutter. Somehow, she felt lighter without it. She wasn't sure what came over her next, but she decided to pick up the little metal bat and pocket it into her clutch. 

Lurking in the shadows, Bruce watched Russ rush inside. He watched Y/N slide her engagement ring off, letting the Gotham sewer take it. He watched Y/N's red silk dress pool around her as she leaned down, picking up the piece of metal and dropping it into her bag.

Bruce had said it before that he missed Rachel. He missed their late-night conversations. He missed having someone down to Earth. He missed having a friend, and the fact that Rachel was his friend made him love her, but he hadn’t realized until tonight how much Y/N filled that void for him. They may not have late-night conversations. She may not know about his double life, but they had their afternoon talks over lunch. She brings flowers into the office, just because. She bantered with him. She wasn’t intimidated by him, and he would be damned if he let a man raise his hand to her. 

@pank0w @moejoeflow @padsfirewhisky @maxinehufflepuffprincess

[featherwurm]

At some point between Moonrise and Baulder's Gate - the crew stops to clean up a bit, and I have an excessive amount of thoughts about social bathing as it applies to the tadfools:

Baulder’s Gate features several bathhouses (including the landmark location Hissing Stones) and they seem geared to a wide variety of clientele; pragmatic (bathing), personal (social and solicitous), and political (a place of meeting) – it can be assumed that group bathing is a norm in the city at all social strata, although wealthier private residences also undoubtedly feature private bathing arrangements. Gender divides do not seem common in Baulder’s Gate on a whole*, and co-ed bathing could likely be a norm as well.

Individual headcanons below the cut - your mileage may vary, this is pulled roughly out of D&D lore, a few character interactions, thoughts about Roman baths, and my ass;

Tav – From the lower middle class of Baulder’s Gate, she grew up with normal family outings to the bathhouse to clean and socialize. In the monastery, cohabiting with a variety of people, group bathing was also a norm (also just… hanging out on a hot day with your buddies or whatever.) Her order views the body kindly, though not worshipfully, and does not view it as a vehicle of shame. It should be cared for with attention and thought to best use it, and while pleasure is inherent (and unshameful) to human nature it is not fundamentally a part of just being naked. She finds nothing out of the ordinary to toss off your clothes and jump in the river with your buddies.

Karlach – Also from Baulder’s Gate’s lower social strata, she too grew up using bathhouses as a place to get clean, have some fun, and be extremely bored while your parents caught up on the gossip. Similarly, working for Gortash meant the occasional political meeting at the Hissing Stones or other locations (a place you CERTAINLY want to take your bodyguard – although she wouldn’t get to enjoy the bathhouse while working). Living in Avernus for a decade in a militaristic setting has also thrown off her sense of normalcy – if you ever get a chance to clean up there (extremely rarely) you take it whatever the circumstance may be. She’s happy to get naked, get in the water, and get clean whoever the company is. (As little children, both Tav and Karlach had to be actively removed from fountains, the river, and suitably large puddles when they presented the opportunity to be in the water – which both of them love.)

Shadowheart – Sharans and the enclave she is from seem to have some issues with pleasures of the flesh and see them as negative and to be shunned. Life is misery and pain and you better get used to it through daily practice. Given her lack of memory of any childhood normalcy, any time spent around other people in a casual way is long gone. She does not seem to have come out of it with bodily shame herself, but undoubtedly finds the idea of just being comfortable with nudity in a platonic way to be alien. Given that she can’t swim, it adds another layer of discomfort being in the water. It takes her some time to warm up to jumping in the river with the others, but she does come round, although she sticks to the shallows until she learns to swim.

Lae’zel – Githyanki don’t seem to have any shame about bodies, at least given their various styling of armor and clothing. Given their almost eusocial social structure and militaristic culture, it’s unlikely there’s much stigma over the body or that of others. She’s certainly with a peculiar group here, but whatever, you need to get the blood out of your hair eventually – the others are sort of strange-looking to her eye for a while though (Shadowheart, Gale, and Astarion seeming like the frail offspring of some small animal with their soft pinkness, Karlach, Tav, and Wyll resembling more of carapaced insects with their ridges and horns.)

Gale – While Waterdeep has it’s spas, these seem more places of relaxation and retreat rather than practical bathing establishments (he does like a nice relaxing treatment – in a robe of course.) Gale has spent so long cooped up in his tower having a weird relationship with the goddess of magic that the idea of just… casually being naked with other mortal people is probably completely off his radar. It is not culturally or personally familiar to him, and feels a little uncouth. He’s going to find a reason to go cook and then clean up by himself later.

Astarion – Speaking of any sense of normalcy having been long gone, his only real use of Baulder’s Gate’s bathhouses has been picking up victims for the last couple centuries (almost always in a sexual context.) Approaching casual bathing with others as any kind of normal is something that will take a reserved approach and a lot of patience as with most things with him. He’s snarky and weird about the whole thing, but it’s to be expected. He later more politely refuses as he works on boundaries and sorts himself out – there’s not enough time in game to sort this shit out. Plus he smells a bit of death no matter what he does – apart from physically getting stuff off his body he’s more reliant on perfume than bathing to feel clean.

Wyll – From Baulder’s Gate and used to playing around wherever he feels like it, it’s not foreign to him to enjoy a bathhouse or river romp (especially in light of various political bargaining happening in the baths) but being from the upper class of Baulder’s Gate he’s not the most casual about it. In his time away from Baulder’s Gate, and being as young as he was, he’s become a little sensitive about it, given his gentlemanly approach developed through his time in the wilds. Still though, it wouldn’t put him off, prior to Mizora’s transformation of him, at which point he’s got body image issues to work through before he’s comfortable again. The tieflings (Karlach and Tav) try to be re-assuring but they come on a little strong about it (hard not to – what he’s viewing as demonic punishment they view as normal for their own bodies – horns and ridges and all.)

Halsin – Look we all know the man likes to be naked and “one with nature”. Bodies are normal and being naked is natural. He’s not caught up on anything, although he might be literally a bear about it if he’s comfortable.

Jahira – Another Baulder’s Gate native who’s used to the city’s amenities. She is much too old and much too traveled to be fussed about who’s around at the evening wash up. She might pretend to be offended or ruffled (or too casual) if she thinks it’s funny – otherwise she’s too busy soaking her joints to care.

Minsc – Minsc is just happy to be here. Are we bonding by bathing together? Ok! But be careful of Boo – he is a delicate creature and gets very angry if he gets soap in his eyes.

Minthara… wasn’t in my playthough, sorry. But I’m certain she’d have the opinion that it’s normal for the ladies to socialize and such while washing but involving the men is bizarre and tasteless.

*Given the normalcy of non-binary, trans, and intersex bodies and identities in BG3, which I personally love.

[ampreh]

[TRF] Norma

Birthday gift for my dear friend @nalak-bel who owns @1940s-onceler ♥

• The Rust Factory - Norma II (<- BONUSES, illustrations in color) I don't always get the chance to do big works, but when I can, I do! I'm happy to develop The Rust Factory's universe a little more in their golden years (1940-1950 and after…). Even though we obviously only show small Lorax-related moments (hello, other story version safely tucked away in our files), I thought it was nice to reveal a little more about Coal (@chimneycoal-yuntzler) and Nathan's (@1940s-onceler) private life.

It was time to show a little Normaler!!! I love the idea of having a Norma in The Rust Factory. I love the idea of having a chubby Norma because she's so cute like that in the movie! It couldn't be any other way and I'm personally very much looking forward to seeing her again in the rp, if Nathan manages to reconnect with her. It'll give me a chance to draw Norma more often.

Originally, this scene in the TRF roleplay took place during their bath; but I wasn't going to draw two naked people… … not here. There are children.

Ahem.

Anyway. That explains why Nathan dives his head into the fountain one moment: he's supposed to immerse himself completely in his bath! I think that's a pretty funny annecdote. That, and the fact that even in his bath, Nathan Cole is still enjoying a big end-of-day cigar, having amassed a few thousand dollars in the process. Coal isn't the type to be jealous of the private life Nathan had before her; in fact, she has a permanent form of admiration for him. He represents the perfect American dream for her: a country boy who came from nothing and made his fortune through sheer will and hard work. And even if she sometimes needs to stop flattering his over-inflated ego, she knows she'll always be a solid shoulder for him to lean on and confide his doubts. Especially when he's being melodramatic, RIGHT? What a baby. I love him.

The cover image is a sketch I started… a year ago? Almost?

[mellowsadistic]

The Magician's Game - Chapter 3

Katherine ran down the corridor. It was well-furnished with little tables and vases and the occasional gorgeous painting on the wall, nicer even than Katherine’s own family home, but she didn’t have time to admire it. She’d slipped into her room at the same time as the others, pulled on her dress, which had magically appeared on her bed since she’d lost it during the challenge, and left immediately. One woman turned into a thumbsucker, another stripped of her stylish clothes and dressed up like a nursery schooler, and a third, worst of all, rendered permanently incontinent.

Katherine’s relief at not being in Becky’s place had quickly passed. It was pretty clear what sort of thing the Magician had in mind for them, and Katherine had no intention of ending up as some overgrown baby herself. There were still three challenges to go, not to mention whatever extra things the Magician might do to them if they were voted out. She couldn’t stand the thought of ending up like Becky, forced to spend the rest of her life in diapers. Diapers. A fashion statement that told the world you couldn’t even control your bladder and bowels, that you were no better than a two-year-old at keeping yourself clean and dry. The idea that a grown woman could be reduced to that was terrifying. She had to get out of here now.

Katherine ran as quietly as she could. She’d gone deeper into the mansion – there was no way she was going back through the hall when there was a chance Becky and the Magician were still there – but the place was like a labyrinth. Still, there had to be an exit, and sneaking out was clearly her best option. The man was obviously a real magician of some kind, but he surely couldn’t know everything. Katherine was more worried about coming across other people in the house, members of staff perhaps, maids or cooks or housekeepers, anyone who might alert the Magician to what she was doing.

She froze as she head the faint sounds of a soft, female voice coming from up ahead. There was a door on the right of the corridor just a few feet away that was slightly ajar. She’d have to be careful to sneak past without whoever was inside seeing her. She approached cautiously, and as she got closer, the words of the woman inside became clearer.

“There’s a good girl,” she cooed. “Drink it all up for Nanny now, that’s a good baby. Such a hungry girl, aren’t you? Someone’s getting her tum-tum nice and full, isn’t she?”

When she was right outside the door, Katherine peeked inside through the gap. What she saw made her freeze in place. There was a beautiful middle-aged woman sitting on a sofa. Her breasts, larger even than Katherine’s own, were out, and latched onto the nipple of one of them was a girl who seemed to be around Katherine’s age, naked but for the thick white nappy on her bottom. All Katherine could see of her head was her sleek brown hair, but there was no doubt she was nursing eagerly on the older woman’s breast.

“That’s it,” the woman crooned down at the girl laying across her lap. “Drink up all of Nanny’s milk like a good baby.”

Katherine was transfixed. It was like looking at a car crash – a girl her age reduced to the level of a nursing infant.

Quite suddenly, the older woman looked up, straight into Katherine’s eyes. A broad smile appeared on her face, maternal yet slightly sinister as well.

“Does someone else want a suckle?” she asked lightly.

Katherine squealed and fled as fast as she could down the corridor. She ran past other doors, trying not to think about what might be behind them. It was only until she came close to another open one, with a woman’s voice coming from it once again, this time stern and lecturing, that she hesitated.

“You naughty little thing! You do not take your nappy off, missy. I hope that red bottom will teach you a lesson. Come on, legs in, let’s get this over your nappy. You know what a little fountain you can be.”

Katherine couldn’t help herself. She stopped running to glance inside.

There was another Nanny in the room, and another girl. But this time the young lady was standing up, sniffling, her eyes red from crying, while her Nanny tugged a pair of plastic pants over her comically large diaper. She wasn’t wearing anything else. Her bare, womanly breasts, tight tummy, and slender legs clashed ridiculously with the bulky nappy on her bottom.

Just like before, as if she could somehow sense Katherine’s presence, the woman looked around suddenly, smirking. Katherine felt her stomach drop.

“Hang around sweetie, and Nanny will change you into a nappy and plastic pants of your own.”

Katherine fled again, breathing frantically. She had to get out of here! She had to! But as she ran, she began to feel an odd dizziness. She was slowing down, and her strides becoming more and more uncoordinated. Her gait widened, and she found herself lifting her feet too high off the ground, stomping the floor forcefully when they came down and putting her off-balance. She was toddling!

“No, no, no, no, no…” she muttered to herself, tears welling up in her eyes. She kept going. At the end of the corridor was a door. If she could just reach it…

Her knees gave out, and she fell to her hands and knees. She crawled desperately towards the door, tears spilling down her cheeks. She was so close! She didn’t even notice as her knee-length dress shortened, rising up her legs and over her backside, until her bare bum and pussy were on display. She’d been in such a hurry to escape that she hadn’t even bothered putting on underwear.

“Where are you off to, little one?” came the Magician’s deep, amused voice from right behind her. Katherine shrieked in fear and looked around, gazing up at the man standing above her with a wicked smile on his face.

“I… I… I was just…”

“It seems like you’ve been running all over the house, silly girl!” He reached down and patted her bare bottom. “That’s very naughty, sweetie. Daddy told you to get changed and meet back in the dining room. But it looks like a certain little lady was trying to escape! Did you think I wouldn’t know, Katherine? I brought you here with a snap of my fingers, remember? There’s no getting away.”

“I’m sorry!” Katherine sobbed, terror on her face. “Please don’t do anything to me!”

The Magician chuckled and, taking her by her hands, lifted Katherine to her feet. She was relieved that she was able to stand up again, even if her new shorter dress just barely covered her pussy.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. I’m not going to do anything too bad to you. But you do need to be punished.”

“Oh God no!” Katherine wailed. “Please!”

“Hush baby. You were very naughty for trying to run away, and I think I know a very fitting punishment for you.”

Still keeping a hold of her hand, he started leading her back down the corridor. With a horrible plummeting in her stomach, Katherine realised that she was still toddling. Her stance was still wide and awkward, her steps still heavy and uncoordinated.

“There won’t be any more running for you, little miss,” said the Magician, confirming her fears. “And no more elegant struts down the catwalk either.”

Katherine burst into tears as the Magician tugged her along behind him. She was going to be stuck like this! She’d always carried herself with such dignity and grace, and now she was supposed to stomp around everywhere like some stupid three-year-old?!

“I heard you saw a couple of the other girls staying in my house,” the Magician went on conversationally, ignoring Katherine’s sobbing. “Little Lizzy getting her afternoon feeding. She used to be a particularly scathing food critic, responsible for the shutdown of many lovely restaurants. She was quite the snob when it came to food. Now she’s on a diet of nothing but breastmilk.” He looked devilishly happy about it. “Of course, most of the guests I have get to go back to their lives – their new ones anyway – but sometimes there are special cases. Since I made her unable to eat or drink anything except breastmilk, I thought little Lizzy might as well stay here with one of the lovely Nannies I employ to be her wetnurse. Then you saw cute little Jemima too. Believe it or not, she was a hardened criminal once, getting involved in gangs and doing all sorts of nasty things. But now she spends her days toddling around in her nappies, playing with her toys, and getting spanked for the slightest bit of misbehaviour. Her attitude is so much better now!”

Finally, Katherine and the Magician were back in the hall. He led her, waddling absurdly and flashing her pussy with every awkward step, into the dining room where they’d had their baby-food lunch earlier that day. The rest of the girls were standing around nervously. They stared at Katherine with a mixture of curiosity and dread. Abby, Madelyn, and Susie were standing close together, but Becky was a little distance away, still wearing a stinky, heavily soiled nappy between her legs. Madelyn was still nursing her thumb, and Susie had apparently not found any adult clothes to change into in her room, because she was still dressed like a nursery schooler.

“Little Katie here tried to escape,” the Magician explained. “So now she toddles when she walks. Isn’t she just the cutest?”

Katherine blushed bright red and kept her eyes fixed on the floor.

“Now then,” the Magician went on, “it’s almost time to have our first vote.” He waved his hand and a ballot box appeared on the table in front of them. “But first, you can all have a little discussion. Talk to whoever you want, or don’t. It’s up to you. But in a couple of minutes, you’ll all be voting to kick one of your number out of the competition. Good luck!”

He vanished, leaving the five women standing there, unsure of what to do. Becky started to move closer to the other girls, but Abby and Madelyn looked disgusted, and Susie said “Ewww! No! Stay over there Becky!”

Becky didn’t know whether she wanted to burst into tears or start screaming in rage. The nappy sagging from her hips was disgusting, but this wasn’t her fault!

“Look, I’m sorry,” Susie said, turning to the others. “But do we really want to spend the rest of this ordeal with a woman who might poop her pants at any moment? I think we should vote out Becky.”

“No!” Becky squealed, looking around desperately. “Please don’t! I don’t want to go home like this! I don’t wanna be a big baby forever!” She looked utterly pathetic.

Abby almost felt a little sorry for her, but she agreed with Susie that spending however many more challenges around a yucky, smelly, pants-filling baby woman was disgusting. But on the other hand, sobbing and crying in her nappies, the eighteen-year-old Becky didn’t seem like she would be much of a threat…

Susie and Becky continued arguing while the others watched. Abby stared at Susie, thinking hard. If anything, Susie was far more likely to pose a threat to Abby in future rounds. She glanced at Madelyn, and noticed that she was also looking at Susie appraisingly, her brow furrowed. She might almost have looked calculating if it wasn’t for the thumb bobbing stupidly in her mouth. Abby might have considered voting out Madelyn – she’d seemed so confident and powerful at the beginning – but being turned into a thumbsucker seemed to have robbed her of some of her authority. Madelyn looked up, and their eyes met. A flash of understanding passed between them. Katherine was still sniffling, mourning her ability to walk like an adult. She wouldn’t be of any use, but hopefully it wouldn’t matter.

The Magician suddenly reappeared, and Susie and Becky’s argument broke off. “Are we all ready, girls?” he asked with that horrible smile. He passed out a piece of paper and a crayon to each of them. They all hurried away from one another and, covering their work like schoolchildren taking a test, they scribbled down a name. One by one, they walked up to the ballot box and placed their piece of paper into the slot. Then they all stood around fearfully while the Magician opened it up, and took them out to look at.

“Excellent!” he announced. “At three votes, we have a clear loser.” He looked around, his eyes glittering with light. There was tense silence but for the wet smacking sound of Madelyn’s thumbsucking. The magician’s gaze passed over each of them before coming to rest on Susie. “Miss Taylor,” he said. Susie felt her blood run cold. “I’m afraid you’re out of the competition.”

“No!” Susie cried. “It can’t be me! Count the votes again! I couldn’t… I won’t…”

But the Magician was walking up to her slowly, and her voice died. “Awww, don’t be scared, little one,” he cooed, tickling her under the chin. “I’m not going to throw you out to the cold. I know just the person to take care of you.” He gestured to the door. Susie looked over, and saw her mother standing in the doorway. She felt as though a bucket of ice had been poured over her.

“Hi Susie-wusie!” Mrs Taylor cooed, with a very Magician-like smile. “Are you reading to come back home?” Her voice was slow and patronising, like she was talking to a very young child.

Susie could only stare in horror. Then, when she realised what the Magician intended for her, she turned round and ran. She only made it a few steps before her mother’s voice said sternly, “Stay where you are, little girl!” and Susie felt her body freeze. “Now come back here right this instant. Come to Mummy, Susie-poo.”

Susie couldn’t stop herself from turning around and marching back over to her mother to stand submissively before her.

“W-what have you done to me?” she whispered.

“This lovely man’s sorted out everything,” Mrs Taylor said, tilting her head at the Magician. “He’s made it so you won’t be able to disobey me ever again. Anything I tell you to do, you’ll do it. Isn’t that wonderful? Mummy always did know what’s best for you, and now I’ll have full control of your life for good. You’ve been a very naughty girl, Susie. Running away from Mummy, going off to university, thinking you can be ‘mature’ and ‘independent’. You’ve been very, very naughty – and you know what that means, don’t you sweetie?”

Susie whimpered. She knew what her mother was going to say before she said it. Those horrible, terrifying, humiliating words from her childhood.

“It’s smacky bum-bum time, Susie.”

“No….” Susie sobbed, barely audibly. She hated those words more than anything in the world. It was all her mother’s strict discipline wrapped up in the most patronising, insultingly infantile language. It was every humiliating spanking she’d ever received, right up until the day she’d left home.

“Yes, baby,” her mother said, talking in that same slow, sweet, condescending voice. “Naughty girls need red tushies.” She reached under Susie’s skirt and hooked her fingers into the waistband of her cotton underpants. Then, agonizingly slowly, she drew them down to her daughter’s knees. “There we go. Now over my knee, Susie.”

Susie fought as hard she could to resist, but it was impossible. She draped herself over her mother’s lap obediently.

Mrs Taylor flipped up her daughter’s tiny skirt, exposing her pale bare bottom. She patted it gently, as if savouring the sight of her wayward daughter back over her knees once again, and then she started to rain down sharp, painful smacks.

Susie screwed up her face in pain and humiliation as her bottom quickly went from white to red. She wanted to stay in control of herself, to preserve whatever dignity she had left, but it was useless. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she started to cry. Her crying became louder and louder as her mother spanked her like a disobedient child, until she was wailing like a baby at the top of her lungs. “Dobbit Mummy!” she sobbed thickly. “P’ease dobbit! I don’t wanna be a little girl again! Waaaaaaaaah!”

The other girls watched with a combination of horror and morbid fascination, and in Becky’s case a tiny bit of satisfaction, as Susie got her bottom smacked like a little girl.

At last, Mrs Taylor finished. She helped Susie off her lap and got to her feet. Susie just stood there, crying her eyes out with her undies around her ankles and her bottom bright red.

“Thank you for everything,” Mrs Taylor said to the Magician. “I’m so glad to have my little girl back where she belongs. Do you think you could be so kind as to send us home? I think this little one needs to spend a few hours in time-out before bed.”

The Magician inclined his head graciously. “Of course.” He snapped his fingers, and Susie and her mother vanished.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM HITCHCOCK FILMS, PART I *  assorted dialogue from movies directed by alfred hitchcock

you'll never get rid of me again.

are you coming to my party tomorrow?

you know what i was just thinking?

i'm asking you to marry me.

why are they doing this?

i loathe you. you have no manners. you're arrogant and conceited.

i've been calling all morning.

i've been thinking of nothing else since it happened.

let me remind you that even the most unworthy of us has a right to life and the pursuit of happiness.

doesn't this make you feel awful?

we are protected by the enormity of your stupidity, for a time.

i may be old-fashioned, but i thought murder was against the law.

don't worry. i'm not going to shoot you.

i think you're the cause of all of this. i think you're evil.

remember, you will only have time for just one shot.

i still think it would be wonderful to have a man love you so much he'd kill for you.

i want you to get rid of all these things.

if that happened, we wouldn't stand a chance!

now why would you want to go and do that for?

will you come in, please? i wish to talk to you.

this is a very strange love affair.

you had no trouble, of course, with the police once they verified your alibi?

it was just an accident.

i do hope you've forgotten about that silly little plan of yours.

i certainly admire people who do things.

my theory is that everyone is a potential murderer.

come see my painting.

it doesn't hurt to be kind.

when's the wedding?

happiness is something i know nothing about.

how did you get him to do it?

say it again. it keeps me awake.

why do you hate me? what have i done to you that you should ever hate me so?

why didn't you call the police?

hell, maybe we're all getting a little carried away with this.

i think it would be a wonderful idea!

i love you more than anything in the world.

i don't want to know! i don't want to know!

would you please get out of here and leave me alone?

i don't think you know what you want.

there are moments in life when we all need a little help.

there i go again. too friendly. it always happens - i meet somebody who i like and admire and i open my mouth too much.

don't ever leave me.

it's the end of the world.

i want to go through life jumping into fountains naked.

a man doesn't tell a woman what to do. she tells herself.

look, i'll make it easy for you.

this chicken took longer than i expected.

an old friend is never an extra guest.

do you think the dead come back and watch the living?

i've opened a window for you. a little air will do you good.

you've nothing to live for really, have you?

i can't forget what it's done to you.

no one will know.

don't you trust me?

are we about to have our monthly fight?

what about the letter you wrote me? is that a lie, too?

i told you what happened.

would you mind waiting?

in case you're interested, i was pushed into that fountain.

i'd like to see you.

what's the matter? is something wrong out here?

we're fighting a war.

i wish i were a stronger person.

i'd love to be able to sleep.

close that door, quickly.

i suppose i'm old fashioned.

i think we're in trouble.

you like me, huh?

[mymultiverse00]

Mrs. Blum

My head is pounding. Over and over again, it’s drumming out a cadence in 4/4 time that I can feel behind my eyes, and in my ears, and all the way down to my stomach. I feel sick and hung over, but I have no idea Why I’m hungover. I don’t remember getting drunk last night. Actually, I don’t really remember anything from last night, but whatever I got up to has left me feeling sick as hell and I do not like it.

I pry my eyes open slowly and am momentarily blinded by a blazing hot sun shining in through a wall of very tall windows. Where the Hell am I? I wonder, taking a moment to try to focus on what’s going on outside, sitting up with a start when I finally start to recognize the landmarks. There’s an enormous fountain outside with dozens of people standing around it, and loud music playing in the distance. The Eiffel Tower stands across from that, looking very regal and pretty, but somehow not quite the right size. Eventually, my turtle slow brain clicks over. I’m in Las Vegas. Why the hell am I in Las Vegas? I really need some answers.

I look around the room a little and confirm that I am in a very large suite at the Bellagio Hotel, and judging by the overturned bottles and dirty glasses everywhere, I’ve been having a party. A tiny twinge between my thighs and complete lack of clothing tells me I’ve also been having sex, and likely quite a lot of it, but with who? That mystery is about to solve itself when the bathroom door suddenly flies open and a very naked and very aroused Roland Blum steps out.

“Roland! What the fuck are you doing here?” I shout, yanking sheets and blankets up over myself to hide my naked body.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Y/n!” He growls back. “Could you keep your screeching to a minimum this morning? I’m hungover as fuck and that’s not helping.”

“Sorry, you just surprised me is all, but what in the world is going on here? What are you doing in my hotel room and why the hell are we in Las Vegas?”

“Well, Mrs. Blum,” he began, swaggering over to join me on the bed. “First of all, it’s our hotel room. And second, it was your idea to come here in the first place, but I guess you chose to forget that.”

“My idea…? Wait. What did you just call me?”

“Mrs. Blum. Unless you want to keep your maiden name like some kind of bra burning feminist? We got married last night, kid.” He flashes his left hand at me, showing off a gold wedding band.

“What?!” I squeaked, scrambling to check my own ring finger and finding an enormous diamond resting there.

“Yeah. You came over to my place last night, crying about some shit that probably doesn’t matter and I offered to fuck you. You said the only way you would ever fuck me is if we got married so… there you go,” he concluded with his hands spread wide like some corny magician, giving me that self satisfied smile he always wears when he knows he’s won an argument.

“So you’re telling me, you drove us all the way to Vegas - to marry me - just so you could get some pussy?” I ask in disbelief.

“You’re damn right I did.”

“Huh.” I sit back against the headboard, taking in this new information and trying like hell to recall any of those events. “Was it any good?”

Roland gives me an offended look. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t ask me that, doll.”

“Well, I don’t know! I’ve never had sex with you before, not sober or as a married woman. I have nothing to compare it to.”

“Well then, let me tell you, wife,” he says lasciviously, slowly pulling down the sheets to expose my bare breasts to his eyes. “Married pussy is the best pussy. You wrapped your long legs around my head so goddamn tight last night, I thought I was going to pass out a couple of times! Then you did this thing to my ass…,” he shivers at the memory. “You’re a real freak, Y/n, and I gotta say, I like it!”

“And you’re ok with being married? To me?” I ask timidly.

“Fuck yes, Y/n. I’ve wanted to get inside your snatch for years! I got my trophy now, and I’m keeping it.” He leans over and kisses me roughly on the mouth. His beard tickles, but in the best way.

“So what do we do now?” I ask.

“Well, if you’re hungry, I can feed you my dick. If you’re not, I’ll eat your ass until you pass out. After that, who the fuck cares?”

I giggle. I’m beginning to come around to the idea of being married to this foul mouthed lawyer, and I’m thinking it might be helpful if I could remember having sex with my new husband, so I give in.

“Tell you what, husband. I’m going to order some room service from downstairs and then I’m going to eat it while I sit on your face.”

He growls in response, sliding in closer to me so his massive cock rubs against the side of my thigh. He starts sucking a bruise onto the side of my neck and pulling at my nipples.

“After we eat, if you’ve been a good boy, I’ll let you rail me against those big glass windows over there, for all the tourists to see.” His head pops up and he smiles widely.

“Goddamn it, Y/n. I fucking love being married to you.”

“Good. Now, I’ll sort out my breakfast, why don’t you sort out yours?”

“Yes, Mrs. Blum.”

The End

[thiolliers-consort]

Trans Kaeya x male reader🩵❄️

Warnings: reader and kaeya don’t end up together, paranoia, kaeya has breasts, internalized transphobia, slight ooc, self indulgent cringe, no beta reader (we die like men), fluff, little bit of hurt comfort

❄︎ in my heart, Kaeya is not easy to get with. He will flirt and he will make moves on you, but he has no intention of ever being with anyone because he can’t see anyone supporting his identity.

❄︎ he doesn’t tell people that he’s trans. Diluc and Jean know, but everyone else just believes that Kaeya was just a very feminine looking child. He didn’t wear dresses or skirts in his youth, so it was easy to just go with that.

❄︎ you were new to mondstat, and didn’t know anyone. You were able to get a job at Angel’s Share since it was so low staffed. The owner was a nice man and he showed you the basics of bartending.

❄︎ you had a few regulars, all of whom the owner warned you about. The regular he warned about the most was the Calvary captain, Kaeya.

❄︎ after meeting Kaeya, you didn’t understand why he would need a warning. He was talkative and friendly with the other patrons, but when it came to ordering a drink, he seemed on edge. Maybe a little nervous.

❄︎ you thought he was cute, so you made it your mission to have a conversation with him. It was hard since he was very popular. Anytime you could’ve talked to him, you had to go talk to someone else. Just your luck.

❄︎ you actually had days off Tuesdays and Wednesdays. You usually spent these days in bed, but you needed to go into town for some eggs. You weren’t expecting to see anyone important, so you just went out in your wrinkly dress shirt and a pair of trousers that were much too big.

❄︎ you successfully grabbed your eggs, but when you turned your head, you saw that man. He wasn’t near you or anything, but you could see him standing in front of the fountain. You walked in the opposite direction of him towards the flowers stand.

Kaeya felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned his head. He didn’t know who he expected, but the new bartender at his brother’s establishment was definitely not it. “Oh! Hello Mr.~lastname~. Is there anything you needed today?” You nodded and kaeya cocked his head to the side curiously.

“Uhmm, here you go…” you looked away and held out a small bouquet of calla lilies. Kaeya stared down at the flowers and gently took them from you, “oh.. well, I just don’t know what to say… if I didn’t know any better, I’d think this was a confession.” He looked at you with a playful smile, his cheeks and ears flushed with a deep red. “I just wanna get to know you! It’d be wrong for me if I didn’t make an effort to know my regulars.”

❄︎ you two talked when you both were free, which nearly never happened. The only days you both had off together was Wednesday, but those were the days you liked to sleep the most.

❄︎ you told Kaeya this one evening when he was at the bar. He offered to change his off days to Tuesdays, but you insisted that he shouldn’t change his schedule just because of your sleep schedule.

❄︎ do you think he listened?

❄︎ No.

❄︎ you two spent many Tuesdays together. They weren’t always eventful, but they were all very pleasant. Everything was going well until he spent the night for the first time.

You just finished eating after Kaeya went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. You put your play in the sink and walked to your room. The door opened and you could barely process what happened next. All you knew is that you apologized and shut the door after Kaeya yelled. “Was he naked?” You asked yourself. You saw something, but it definitely was like he was completely naked. To be honest, you couldn’t fully comprehend what you saw in time.

The door slowly opened and you turned to see Kaeya wearing a button down sleep shirt and some shorts. You put two to two together and it finally clicked in your head that he had breasts. It didn’t really matter to you though.

“Are you ready for bed?” You asked him as you walked into the room and took off your over shirt and laid in the bed. “Are you… uncomfortable?” Kaeya looked concerned and a little ashamed, but you didn’t see why it was such a big deal. “I’m not uncomfortable just because you’re built a little different from me. We’re friends right? I love you unconditionally, no matter what you were born as or what you identify with.”

❄︎ Kaeya was very happy to know that you supported him. You were now the third only person that knew, and he trusted that you wouldn’t tell anyone else.

❄︎ there was a point of time where you did express an interest in pursuing him, but he had a lot of feeling about it. He was paranoid that you might’ve only tried since you knew he was trans and maybe didn’t truly see him as a man.

❄︎ you reassured him that you did see him as a man, but that you respect his boundaries. You’ve given him a lot of patience and so much more than he could’ve asked for.

❄︎ once again, Kaeya is hard to get with. Just be patient with him and give him the love he deserves. He might give you a sliver of a chance.

Happy pride month to this man specifically

[jarofstyles]

Petals and Prompts

Hello! It’s been a while… but here we are! Part 3 to A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes! Princerry returns.

I hope you enjoy it! Please let us know.

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A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes Masterlist

—-

Harry was smitten.

There was no doubt about it. Every moment he was around her, his stomach was filled with butterflies and his cheeks heated far more often than he had wanted. She was everything he could have wanted. Sharing laughs, and difficult discussions, she managed to make him feel comfortable. Human. Ways he had never experienced before.

Looking at her across the table as she had a chat with his sister and laughed, holding fans to their faces and cooling off from the warm garden, he realized fully how lucky he was. She was glowing. Skin dewy and radiant, the soft pout of her lips. The curve of her nose and the long lashes that fanned her cheeks. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and she was to be his. Harry’s and his alone.

His eyes traced her as he sipped his drink, happy she asked his sister to join them for the sole reason of getting to observe her. The way her eyes brightened and dulled at certain topics.

The beautiful laugh that fell from her lips and how she would tip her head back. The sass and snarl when talking about people they disliked. Every so often checking in with Harry to make sure he was okay and enjoying himself. All it took was a fond smile and nod and she would continue her conversation. No one had ever checked on his comfort so intently before. So, no. Harry didn’t mind at all that their lunch had been overtaken by his sister.

They’d made fast friends, Isabella and Y/N. His sweet girl had managed to charm the entirety of the family. Funnily enough, Isabella would be the hardest to impress out of everyone. Protective of her brother in her own right, she had told him who to stay away from many a time. Hearing of the defense she gave of Harry’s honor just a few weeks back had softened her up immensely. Add in a shared interest in flowers and Isabella promising to teach her some new embroidery techniques, it had turned into a lovely thing. The only downside was Harry becoming the target of their teasing.

“And he ran out almost naked! From a mere bug on his bed!” Isabella used one of his embarrassing moments to have Y/N in a fit of chuckles, making him give a faux glower at the pair. “Future king.. terrified of a little beetle!”

“I was 13.” He deadpanned, crossing his arms and raising his brow at the both of them. “Isabella, I know plenty of embarrassing stories of you. You are lucky I am polite enough to spare Y/N the embarrassment of recalling them.” He sniffed, nose in the air. Playful, but also a slight warning.

“Rude.” The girl huffed, smoothing out her dress. “I am being targeted because I simply share fond memories of you as a young lad with the woman who somehow puts up with you! You can back out, Y/N. It isn’t too late.” She leaned in, placing the fan to block her mouth but saying loud enough for him to hear. “He snores sometimes. And he smells atrocious after training! You can spare yourself.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she saw Harry’s mouth drop open in scandal. “Somehow, I think I can make do with that. Sacrifices. He’s such a pretty thing.” She sighed, looking over his face. That had him smirking, a bit of a puff to the ego. “I quite like him, so I’m afraid you all are stuck with me.” She looked at the ring on her finger that showed the promise. The engagement.

Harry had made it custom for her. Small rubies surrounding a single, large princess cut diamond. It sparkled in even the dullest light. Two emeralds mixed with the rubies, signifying how she spoke of his eyes and the night they had met. She had nearly sobbed at the sight of it and the explanation when he had gotten down on one knee at the fountain.

They were only a few days away from the engagement ball. Y/N was helping the queen most days with preparations and taking on a few duties of her own. Learning from her to see what she would be doing one day. It warmed Harry to know that she was inside the castle most days.

He couldn’t wait for the days he could retire to their own quarters. Spend time with her alone, and truly alone. No limits on what they could do. Kisses on the cheek, the neck, the arms only quenched so much of his thirst. Though… Harry knew that he would wait years if it meant she was at the end of the finish line.

“Isabella, I think it is time for you to help mother. I would like some alone time with Lady Y/N, please.” He had shared enough of her during their scheduled time. He wanted to spend some of it closer to her.

“Fine. Kick me away from my new friend.” She grumbled, collecting her skirts and smoothing them as she stood up. “Give me a call if he gives you any issues at all, Y/N. I am incredibly fond of the cake you’ve chosen, but I won’t hesitate to smear some on his ugly mug.” She teased before flouncing off towards her room.

Y/N gave Harry a fond smile, allowing him to help her up and take her into his arms for an embrace. It wasn’t anything too drastic, and the prince knew that they’d be watched, but he snuck a kiss to the curve of her jaw. “Radiant as always, my dove.” He pulled away and gently took her hand to lead her through the gardens. A stroll was their favorite pastime, her arm looped through his as they examine the florals and Harry watched his beloved fiancé ‘ooooh’ and ‘awe’ over each petal.

Something so simple managed to make the woman he was falling heavily for so happy. When trying to meet other women in the past, it was always the castle's golden archways or the silver placeware, the pearls Harry sometimes adorned around his neck. It was the luxury of it all that wooed them and nothing else.

Y/N was pleased with the flowers. The company. She never blinked twice at the golden rings that covered Harry’s hands besides to play with them as they spoke at times. She never expressed jealousy over belongings. It was so refreshing to him to find her in the library, speaking with one of his advisors over books. A well read, educated woman was incredibly intimidating for a lot of people. Not to him.

Her intelligence was one of the things that called to him the most. Their philosophical and theoretical conversations, the politics they agreed upon, the societal differences and being able to actually have discussions when they disagreed on subjects was something Harry had never experienced in almost anyone else.

Now he would be lucky enough to call her his wife.

“I am growing more and more excited as the days pass.” She murmured, fingers stroking the white petals of the daisies. “To live here and explore these gardens everyday. With you.” Her face turned to him and made his heart skip a few bears. He was positive that her smile could kill him. Shock his heart with the overflowing of love that conjugated there.

“It is the same for me.” His words were softer than the sweet summer breeze in this garden. “I wake up every day longing for the day we don’t need supervision to be with one another. It wouldn’t be proper to kiss you out here now… but in a while, it will be. And I crave that.”

“As do I.” Her voice was soft, not wanting to be overheard. “I never understood before, you know?” A slight tilt of the head had Harry humming, her cue to go on. “How people just… were happy settling down. Having one person to be their life partner. I thought that love was something rare. Sometimes I still think it is… but I was lucky enough to have you stumble upon me.” Her eyes met his. “It doesn’t scare me like I thought it might. The idea of forever at someone’s side. I think… if it was anyone else? Perhaps. I may not like it. I like fluidity, I love movement. But with you?” She squeezed his hand firmly. “It doesn’t feel like a trap. I’m not naive… I know that the castle is somewhat of a gilded cage. But I don’t think I’ll mind if the other bird in it is you.” Her head rested upon his shoulder, a dreamy sigh leaving her mouth.

“They were trying to scare me.” Her soft admission made him turn slightly, trying to gage her face. Alarm went through him at the idea of someone trying to harm her, even just her peace.

“Who?” He questioned, stopping their pace. “What did they say to upset you?” The pure concern was written on his face. Harry was a fierce protector. It had been a lot to know that even before people had been cruel to her about his decision. Like being rude would change either of their hearts. Both of them were stronger than that.

“Do you know Anastasia?” she questioned, watching his face as he thought for a moment before nodding. She was a socialite, married into nobility and recently widowed. Young, just a few years older than Y/N. Harry did not like her company. Something about her seemed so… slimy. Unsettling. Like a snake. An eel, more like.

“Well, I was getting fitted for a few dresses the other day in town… she and her group of gossipers were definitely trying to pick my weak spots.” She shook her head, feeling irritation prickle on her skin.

“They were saying as a royal I would have no freedom. There would be no time to read books, to talk to people. That I would have to sit by your side and nod and be pleasant. I wouldn’t be allowed to see my family often. All of these things that I know to be mostly untrue.” She placed a hand over his. “I am not unaware of the fact that I will not live as I used to. I will be busier, I will not have the same freedoms, no. It will be different ones. It is an adjustment, isn’t it? Life gives us new chapters to live and learn… I am not afraid of it. But they know I have always spoken of wanting to travel the world. They would scoff when they saw me reading when I was younger. It just… irritated me.” She wanted to let him know. He would be her partner and deserved to know these things.

Harry hated that people tried to ruin her happiness. It was pure jealousy and spite, the both of them knew that, but the idea of it was still sickly. They let the tentacle of greed wrap around them and turn them into puppets for the emotion. Not realizing that there was no way to change it. Nothing could be done. Harry was completely and utterly smitten with her and no other woman would tempt him to change his mind.

“I’m sorry, dearest.” He sighed. “I understand. You’ve taken the changes with such grace. It won’t be an easy transition, I will never lie about that. There is a lot to learn. However- just seeing you here? How you’ve taken to planning with my mother, how you deal with people like that? You were made to be my queen.” His hand brought hers up to his mouth, kissing the knuckles tenderly. “You’ve got the spirit for it. The drive. You want to better the kingdom. You don’t want the riches and luxury these women are thinking you’re being handed.” Granted, Harry had had countless jewelry pieces being made at the moment for her, custom crowns and dresses she had no idea about. But that was the point.

“A spirit that sets the world on fire like yours? It’s once in a lifetime. There’s no one else like you. They want these gardens and a title but they would never be able to handle the things you and I will. The reform.” His voice dropped again. “The projects. You’ve proven to be a worthy leader before I’ve even kissed you properly. I know in my heart of hearts that you’re the only person for me.” The statement left no room to be discussed.

“If you’d like, I can have Anastasia barred from our parties… I’ll have them moved to another village. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable on our special days.”

The engagement party, the wedding, the dozens of holiday balls. Harry wouldn’t blink an eye with banning anyone if it meant she was happier. But that wasn’t who she was.

“It’s alright. I would prefer her to stew in her own anger and pity in her seat while we have the best times together. I know that will be a better revenge than banning her from the parties.” Y/N’s little smirk and revenge streak did something to him. It wasn’t appropriate but he knew that when they were wed and she showed a bit of her devilish side? He would have no choice but to drag her to bed.

“As you wish, my love.” He kissed her hand again, lips sticking to the skin longer than it needed to before he looped their arms again. “Now… show me your favorite flower so far. I will make certain it is present at the wedding.”

[lestappenforever]

Hello my beautiful girl, let’s go to the chapel and get married! Time to share my brainrots, I call them”things I’d like to read after this tacky Las Vegas week”, let’s go:

Max freaking out, asking for Charles’ hand in marriage and running to the chapel dressed as blonde Elvis.

Lando playing pranks on them so they finally get their head out of their asses and hook up

Nightclub extravaganza with shots of tequila, dancing, seduction, kisses on an alley, getting handsy etc

Drunk sex, waking up hungover with Max by his side and totally losing his marbles because he was such a dirty slut on top of max but now he’s so embarrassed he might die

Max literally camping outside Charles’s hotel to fancy him with his Elvis abilities of awfully singing

The Steve support group catching them on yet another compromising position and discussing how to proceed since the trauma of seeing them naked scared even the most professional of Steve’s: checo.

Some jealous Kelly arguing about “so this is why you asked me to stay in Brazil and not to come to Vegas? You’re banging Charles???”

Everybody shitfaced jumping on the bellagio fountain

This is peak fiction, even if people write tiny dribbles, I’d fucking LOVE THEM. Vegas was tacky? Yes. But it gave us so much lestappen, I’ll never get tired of it. I’m not even regretting waking up at 3AM. See you soon my love 🫶🏻

Evie, my beloved, my beautiful angel, my universe, I will meet you at the chapel to go through with our long-overdue wedding. ❤️

Once again, my darling Evie, you bless me and everyone else reading this with your beautiful, wonderful, amazing Lestappen brainrots and I could honestly get on board with them all. So many potentially wonderful fics or drabbles could be written for every single one of these brainrots.

Lestappen truly has reached a point where they are practically writing fics for us and I am personally so here for it. And Vegas might have had it's definite downsides, but I will never forget the Lestappen content it brought up.

I adore you and love you with my entire being, my beautiful Evie. I hope you're having a wonderful day. 🫶

[skye707]

so, since you mentioned summer episode ask (or something along the lines) i just have to ask: what riddlers are like in water parks? who likes tall, sharp angled slides and who prefers to sit by water fountains? and most important question of all, is ZY even allowed into water parks or was he banned from a place with such concentration of half naked women lmfao

Water parks are an interesting question, I think. Not their first choice of a venue, but we all know how resourceful a Riddler can be.

Unburied - He enjoys water parks, but not for the thrills. I imagine him as a people watcher. He’s sitting to the side watching people go by developing their whole life’s story in his little head.

ZY - You would think that he’d be banned from water parks, and though he does do quite a bit of inappropriate ogling and brief catcalling of children’s moms, he’s got just enough restraint to do what he really came here for: the slides. He’s going to the top of the tallest one. He is not afraid. He is an absolute thrill seeker.

Dano - He’s a little nervous. Water parks are definitely something that he has never done before, so he’s a little overwhelmed by all these people essentially walking around in their underwear. He’ll probably stick to the wake pool, until he realizes the ‘wake’ part of the wake pool.

YJ - He loves water parks. It's the perfect place for a little guy like him to have some fun. Added bonus, he loves water. However, don't mistake his enthusiasm for confidence. When he's standing at the top of the slide, he's tapping his little feet and looking over the edge gulping. Everything is fine once he gets the bottom, and he's doing it all over again at the top of the next one.

Gotham - Mom friend. He's dousing everyone in sunscreen, handing out water bottles, and sitting his little booty in a chair watching everyone like a hawk. Hey! Don't run, the edge of the pool is wet!!

BTAA - He is, without a doubt, that dad at the waterpark tossing other people's kids into the pool. When ferociously asked why in the world he thinks he has the right to lay hands on someone else's child, he was "demonstrating the effects of water's surface tension to your dim-witted kid" and "they asked me too".

Arkham - Ya know the slides and rides with boats, mats, rafts, etc.? That's where you can find him. He's testing the limits of the craft. Once other people catch wind of his antics, the only ones who will join him on a ride (warned by the staff that the park is not responsible for their safety if they ride with him) are the little guys, ZY and YJ.

BTAS - Also popping open an umbrella, sitting in a chair, and getting out his newest read. If someone walks up to him, he looks at them over his sunglasses, asks if they really need his assistance, and reluctantly gets up to retrieve Arkham, ZY, and YJ from the ride which they have broken and maybe broken themselves on.

Telltale - Not going. Sorry, he's too old for most stuff anyway, but a park full of stupid peoples' even stupider children isn't somewhere he'd go on a bet.

[katrinawritesthings]

Jonghyun/Taemin; Criminal; PG

You know when you're trying to rob a museum and then someone else fucks it up

Jonghyun doesn't need to be told twice. He's off, back to following the map in his head with every one of his nerves alight now.  Which means that he jumps about a mile when he walks into the diorama room and an alarm goes off.

Jonghyun has never really been one for fancy old paintings, but he has to admit, these little guys are pretty cute. He's actually smiling a little as he carefully takes each one off of the wall, whole entire paintings small enough to fit in the palm of his hand, and taking in their little subjects of humans and little houses and landscapes with interest. Maybe this is what he's been missing the whole time. Maybe all he needed for him to appreciate paintings from people that died 400 years ago was for them to be tiny and cute.

Maybe he still doesn't really care that much and is just glad to have something cute to look at for once during a heist. When he's done with this and out of here, he thinks he'll keep one for himself. He's taking, like, 30 of them, anyway. One less won't hurt the profit they'll get from trading them. Jinki won't mind, and if he does, then Jonghyun will just suck his dick or something until he doesn't anymore. 

He takes the final one off of the wall and slots it very gently into his backpack, then zips it up and pulls it over his shoulders. Glancing around the dark room, at the security cameras in the corners, he puts his back to the wall and says, "Key, are we good?" 

"Path out is clear," is Key's reply, coming into his ear piece just a little bit crackly. "And your tag is sticking out of your sweater."

"Fuck," Jonghyun mumbles, blushing at the smirk in Key's voice as he starts to leave the room and reach behind himself at the same time. He cannot believe that Key waited that long to tell him. Friendship is fake. 

He slips through the halls of the museum, taking his pre-planned path, making sure to stop by the fountain to let the security guard pass, to be careful clambering over the squeaky metal grate to the naked people statue room, stop once he leaves there and wait for the–

"Uh-oh," he says, stopping short, eyes wide as he looks at the security guard on the floor. Sprawled on their back, walkie-talkie broken a few feet away, flashlight on in their hand. "Guys, we have a problem," he breathes.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Key asks. Jonghyun ignores him for a minute in favor of heading towards the security guard and crouching over them. A nasty bruise building on their temple, but a hand over their mouth tells him that they're still breathing; just knocked out. Well, not as bad as it could be, but, still. "Oh, shit," Key says then. Jonghyun guesses he's found the right camera and can see what the problem is now. 

"What is it?" Jinki asks. 

"A guard is out," Jonghyun says, putting his hands on his knees and pushing himself up. He's wary now in a way that he wasn't before. Someone else that shouldn't be here is in this museum too. "Key, can't you find them?" he asks. "Like, rewind the cameras or something." 

"Not unless I want the main security guy to notice," Key snaps. 

"I mean, do you think he's even conscious to notice if he didn't notice this?" Jonghyun says back. If whoever else is in here didn't have a problem taking out one security guard, he doesn't see why they would have a problem taking out the main guy. They need someone to go check. "Blaze–"

"On it," Minho replies before Jonghyun can even ask the question. The next thing he hears is Minho’s heavy security boots clunking on the tile floor towards the security office. "You keep heading out."

Jonghyun doesn't need to be told twice. He's off, back to following the map in his head with every one of his nerves alight now.

 Which means that he jumps about a mile when he walks into the diorama room and an alarm goes off.

Heart pumping, convinced it was him that caused it, he jumps again when both Key and Minho start speaking at the same time: "I don't know what that is, I haven't even gotten to the office yet," and "quick, Bling, I can't tell where they're heading yet but some of them are going to pass you, to your right, there's a janitor closet, get in there." 

Whoever the fuck is botching their own heist so badly better at least be trying to get something fucking valuable. Jonghyun pivots and runs to the closet on his right, pulling his lockpicks from his pocket as he does so. As frazzled as he is, picking the lock is quick work and he's closing the door behind him far before he hears running footsteps.

Key and Minho are talking rapid fire back and forth trying to figure out what's going on, Jinki offering as much input as he can from the driver's seat. Jonghyun, for his part, stays quiet, listening to what's going on behind his door. Footsteps, footsteps footsteps and then some shouting, orders, more footsteps. Then, quiet, for long enough that Jonghyun thinks that maybe things have calmed down at least in this part of the museum until all at once, there's one pair of footsteps rushing straight at his door.

They're so fast that he barely has time to step back and put his hands up before the door is crashing open, but it's not museum security that tumbles into the room with him.

It's someone dressed very similar to him; dark clothes, gloves, a beanie, and, if Jonghyun is seeing right in the darkness, a face mask with the  Team Rocket logo printed on it. They slam the door behind themself and then lean on it, pulling their mask down, panting hard, putting their face in their hands. They don't even acknowledge Jonghyun as another human being in the room with them. 

The other three are still talking in his ear piece. Putting his hands down, getting his flashlight on, Jonghyun says quietly,  "Guys, shut up. I found them." 

And if Jonghyun jumped a mile earlier, this other thief jumps three when he speaks, eyes wide as saucers as they finally notice Jonghyun in the room with them. Jonghyun can see their mouth open wide to shout something and quickly puts his finger to his lips, shaking his head. They take a moment, breathing hard, and then, in a whisper that's basically speaking anyway, ask, "who the fuck are you? What are you doing here?" 

"What am I doing?" Jonghyun hisses, incredulous. "What are you doing? I'm doing an honest heist, you're the one fucking knocking out people and tripping alarms. What the fuck were you thinking, just leaving that guard on the floor? Why would you go to the trouble of knocking someone out and then trip the alarm anyway? Is this your first job or what?" He doesn't mean to hound them like this, but he's stressed and once he starts he gets himself on a roll and has trouble stopping. It's keeping them quiet, at least, and it actually looks like it's cowing them, because they look down and rub their cheek sheepishly.

"I mean," they say, "maybe."

"Christ," Key mutters. 

"Did I mess up your heist?" they ask, and oh no, Jonghyun thinks, because their eyes are round and their lips are plumped up into a pout and their distressed voice is, distressingly, adorable. "I'm sorry, I didn't–I just needed to–I thought I had disarmed the alarm, but–I'm sorry–my name is Taemin and–no, wait, fuck that's not–forget I said that. My name is Ace." 

"It really is their first heist," Jinki sighs.

"What were you trying to steal?" Taemin asks. Jonghyun almost answers them on reflex before he stops and squints. Nosy. 

"Mind your own business," he says, "and shut up. I'm trying to listen." Which is true; he holds his finger to his ear piece to press it closer to his eardrum so he can hear the conversation better, but he's not really sure that it's worth listening to in the first place.

"What are the fucking chances someone else would pick the same day we did," Key is saying, and then Jinki responds with, "0.27%. It's easy, you just divide the number of days in a year by–" and then Key cutting him off with "shut up, nerd," and then the sound of a slap on a shoulder, and then the sound of a much louder slap as Key hits Jinki twice as hard back, all mingling with the conversation Minho is having with a real security guard. 

 "Guys," Jonghyun hisses. None of this is helping him. "Can I get out of here or what?" 

"Yeah," Key says like none of the previous conversation happened. "They're all swarmed around the alarm. Get out of the closet and go back the way you came, I'll lead you once you hit the fountain." 

"Okay," Jonghyun says. He pushes around Taemin, then tugs on his wrist, other hand on the doorknob. "Come on," he whispers.

"No come on," Jinki says, indignant. "You're not bringing them with you."

"Yes I am," Jonghyun snaps, leaning on the door instead of opening it and putting a hand on Taemin's chest to stop them from walking into him. "You know they're just going to follow me anyway. And I don't want them to get caught on their first heist. They deserve a chance. Besides, they're–"

"He," Taemin supplies helpfully, and Jonghyun cannot stop the smile even though he knows it'll show in the rounding of his cheeks over his mask. Taemin is pulling up his own mask, eyes bright in an excited kind of way now, and Jonghyun is definitely fond as he says, "besides, he's cute." 

"Bling, you are so fucking soft,” Key sighs. "And I don't mean that as a compliment," he adds before Jonghyun can thank him. 

Jonghyun says thanks anyway before he pushes open the door and tugs Taemin to follow him.

They slink through the museum, Jonghyun glancing over his shoulder so often to make sure that Taemin is still with him that before they even hit the fountain Taemin just grabs onto one of his backpack straps and holds on. Jonghyun appreciates it. Once he's sure that Taemin isn't lagging behind or sneaking off, he can focus more on Key's instructions. 

It's an entirely different path out then the one they planned, half improvised by Key and half monitored by Minho redirecting what guards he can away from it. For the rest of the guards they sink into a corner or behind a wall and wait. And for one, after a silent but fierce argument, Jonghyun winces when the heel of Taemin's boot clips the guard’s temple and they drop like a stone. Jonghyun makes a point to at least drag them into a corner where they won't be found as easily, but doesn't bother arguing with Taemin more about it. He just grabs his wrist and hurries along where Key tells him to.

The entire time, Jonghyun doesn't realize that his heart is beating as fast as it is until they reach a side exit and the sight of Minho standing guard around it sends a wave of relief through him. Taemin stops in his tracks, trying to scuttle out of sight, but Jonghyun shakes his head and drags him forward. 

"He's with me," he mutters, reaching out to hold Minho’s hand for a moment as they pass him and push outside. He can tell from the pull on his backpack that Taemin is watching Minho over his shoulder until the door closes behind him. 

"You have to stop falling for twinks with fat cheeks," Minho says into his earpiece.

"Fuck off,"Jonghyun says back, and then very pointedly does not look at Taemin's round cheeks even though he's turning to him with a confused noise. Instead, he looks around to get his bearings. Instead of being in the gardens with the car parked on the street over the fence like their original plan was, they've been unceremoniously spat out into an alleyway between the museum and the tourist center right next to it. The red and blue of police lights flash down one way, so Jonghyun heads the other way with Taemin and his pinchable cheeks in tow. 

Jinki says that they’ll meet up at the burger place down the street, so when they reach the end of the alley, Jonghyun stops and relays the news. He does so while taking off his beanie, his gloves, and his mask, ruffling out his hair, and after a pointed look Taemin does the same.

"Why would we–"

"You think ordering nuggies in full burglar gear would be less suspicious?" Jonghyun asks, eyebrows raised. Taemin mumbles, but he doesn't disagree, and when Jonghyun takes off his backpack to stuff his things inside, holds his own stuff out with an asking noise. Jonghyun lets him, then takes off his dark hoodie so he's just wearing a blue t-shirt underneath and rips off the dark covering on the pack itself to reveal its regular hello kitty design.

"Oh, cute," Taemin smiles. Jonghyun smiles back up at him as he straightens up and pulls the backpack on again.

"Thanks," he replies. Then he grabs Taemin's arm, pulling it around his shoulders. "Now come on," he says. "Boyfriends." And he slips his hand into Taemin's butt pocket and leads him out onto the street, pleasantly ignoring the other three groaning into his earpiece. Taemin is even cuter in the street light and the giddy blush that colors Jonghyun cheeks when Taemin pulls him closer isn't as much of an act as it should be.

[cafeblackthorn]

I'm finally where I belong

    I'm a chef, a hiker, and a pagan. During my thirteen years as a chef, I've done and seen quite a lot of interesting things. In the time I've slogged it out in kitchens, I've always found myself returning to three things in my life: cooking, writing, and telling stories. I sufficed to say that the restaurant industry has given me a great deal of perspective on many, many things, quite a few of which I genuinely found to be superbly unexpected. In the immortal words of Ray Liotta in "Goodfellas", "All my life I wanted to be a gangster". From childhood to my early teen years my Saturday morning cartoons were replaced with cooking shows. "The Essence of Emeril", "Emeril Live", "Bobby Flay's Grillin and Chillin", "Molto Mario", "A Cook's Tour, and despite his current universal dragging by Uncle Roger "The Naked Chef with Jaime Oliver"

                    I genuinely give a lot of credit to my father, our bonding during my childhood was spent traveling across Queens where I currently live eating my way through every ethnic group to call Queens home. Those times exploring with my dad helped me come out of my shell and paved the way to becoming who I am today. A place my father and I regularly ate at was Rosa's Pizza in Maspeth, it was in this temple of Red Sauce Americana that exposed me to what would eventually evolve into my loving cooking. My Dad and I always and nearly without fail sat within the same three rows of booths and my culinary education as a New Yorker began. Whether you're a New Yorker for life or a transplant with a few years in the city we all accept a few simple truths, no matter how hard you try you can't get all the grease off of a regular slice, the corner slice of a Sicilian pie is the best piece (I defy you to tell me otherwise), and no matter what you do fountain soda from a pizzeria just hits different.

               In Rosa's you had the regular crew slinging pies in the open kitchen, and if you were in the mood for something heavier you had the closed-off portion of the kitchen where one of my favorite people in the world cooked day in and day out. Pete was an older guy when I was a kid and he still made some of the best Italian-American food you could ever sink your teeth into, and eventually, he would become like a second grandfather to me. The days he was at work and my dad and I happened to be in we'd walk away with a free soda here, a free slice there and I remember he even comped a meal for us, which for the time was unheard of (and it's even more so now). Pete had this uncanny ability to always make you smile and I remember the day he changed my life forever. Pete walked out of the kitchen in his sauce-stained waist apron, salt and pepper hair, and that caterpillar mustache that was almost a pre-requisite if you were cooking in a pizzeria in the 90's

               "Your dad tells me you want to be a cook?" I remember having a chunk of Sicilian dangling in my jaws, all I could do was nod like an idiot, I looked at my dad and he smiled knowingly. Pete took me into the kitchen where I saw three bowls and an eggplant cut into rounds. "Eggplant Parmesan, it's easy, I'm gonna show you how". Pete proceeded to show me how to pass the eggplant from flour to egg, to breadcrumb and how to put them into a deep fryer, I remember the sensory overload that making that food did for me. The slime of the egg, the powdery POOF the flour made when my eggplant hit the bowl and the crunch of breadcrumbs through my fingers, I even remember the squeal of delight and terror I let out as I saw produce deep fry for the first time. I'm not gonna lie, looking back on it now the thought of a nine-year-old kid rocketing food into a deep fryer gives me all kinds of anxiety, Pete showed me how to assemble an eggplant parm step by step with the most patience I've ever been shown in a kitchen and when all was said and done he laid a takeout container in front of me, It was my eggplant parm that I made and ya know what? It was fucking delicious.

                My Dad and I would take a nearly five-month break from visiting Rosa's and when we came back, I remember something felt off. The giant dining room somehow seemed bigger, the shine I always remembered gleaming off the tables seemed to dull somehow. My dad ordered for us our usual and we took to our usual booth. I remember saying to my dad "I wonder if Pete's working". Looking back on it now, I should have realized something was amiss when my Dad's absent gaze locked on me "He died..a few days ago", I remember finishing that slice of pizza with a tear in my eye understanding the importance that love had on cooking. Pete was gone, and it felt as though the love had gone from that restaurant.

               Pete's lived in my memory now for twenty-six years. A sadness admittedly enters my mind, I mourn the fact that Pete showed me what I was meant to become, I mourn the fact that I couldn't return to show him what I've learned. I said to myself when I began a writing effort, to putting my thoughts, and opinions on food, where I started would be important, and despite the fact, I would gain an Idol who left a permanent mark on my soul, It all comes back to Pete, and though he's gone I'm still a chef because of him, I'd raise a toast to you Pete, thank you for giving a fat little nine-year-old the realization he had a place in the world. I thank you for instilling in me a sense of pride in my work and working with my hands. Grazie Pietro, se non fossi entrato nella mia vita. Non so la direzione che avrebbe presso.

[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

Heart of the Weave - chapter 8 - back to Emmy’s POV

We decided to stay at Sharess’s Caress overnight so we have some comfortable beds to stay in before we head back home tomorrow. We hit up the Elfsong Tavern for some food and drinks before heading back to the Inn. It’s pretty late but luckily for us, we’re used to inconsistent times of activity. We sit at the table, waiting for our food to arrive, just simply enjoying each other’s company.

“Part of me really missed Baldur’s Gate,” Gale says. “When we were here last, all we did was…well, watch several unfortunate and catastrophic events occur one after the other, and smell the horrific odor of bloody corpses. Now, we can actually enjoy sitting at the tavern, or –”

“Watch other people get at it with a drow, get naked in the fountain in the middle of the city, drink alcohol from Hoots that will turn us into sheep. Ah, the fun stuff,” Astarion interrupts, looking content just thinking about these debaucherous acts.

“I at least want to do one really fun activity before we head back home,” I say. “Though, I know we don’t have time but one can only dream, right?”

“Name one thing that isn’t what I listed, I’ll wait.”

“My options are limited, friend.” He rolls his eyes but proceeds to smirk at me. I can tell that he secretly wants me to participate in some ‘extreme’ fun, which used to be me several tenday ago. I laugh as I take a drink of my ice-cold water. Refreshing.

“Speaking of which, I’m so PUMPED about being aunty Karlach. Just imagine all the adventures we will have!”

“Karlach, you’re not taking my baby to Avernus,” Gale retorts, fighting laughter. “I imagine it would not end well for any of us. Plus… I’m getting used to the thought of having a miniature version of yours truly.”

“Aw! Look at Gale getting all comfortable with being a dad, how cute! But can we at least pretend I’d be traveling through the cores of the Earth to the Hells with your spawn? ‘Auntie Karlach, can you please take me to Hell so I can slay some demons or giants or whatever?’ and I’d be all like ‘HELL YEAH, LET’S GO!’ I’m really great, Gale. I’ll be a wonderful influence.”

Gale turns his head, hiding it away so no one can see him laugh, though I hear it loud and clear.

“Oh damn! Speaking of which, we actually need to return to Avernus soon,” Wyll mentions.

“Well, more like a couple days. I just realized how much I was enjoying this little break.” Karlach leans her head on his shoulder, Wyll looking at her sweetly as he wraps his arm around her bulky shoulders. Spending time with my companions makes me almost wish we could adventure together regularly, or at least see each other more. While I don’t miss the gruesome violence and very close permanent death calls, I do miss the fun conversations, the people we’ve met, and building relationships with each other.

“I missed you guys,” I say, half-smiling as I reminisce. “Truly. I know this wasn’t an ideal situation for us to get together, but I’m glad it happened.” Shadowheart leans her head on my shoulder. It feels nice to be back with such a close friend; I haven’t seen her since the reunion camp half a year ago. Before that, it was my wedding day six months prior to that.

“You are the friend who helped me discover who I truly was,” she murmurs. “The friend who helped me overcome what I thought I couldn’t. Thank you.”

“Astarion, my guy! Are you looking forward to leaving this city after so long? I bet it’ll be quite the adjustment.” Karlach asks. He clears his throat, staring at the bar; it’s as if he’s desiring a glass of wine.

“Yes, and I missed all of you. It will be a strange yet exciting adjustment. At least there will be familiar faces and I don’t have to worry about what alley I’ll be hiding at. I miss a nice, cozy bed,” he says. “Half the people here still worship Gortash and he’s been dead for a year or so. Not exactly a pleasant scenery one wants to be around, especially being one of the ones that killed him.”

“God, I still want to punch him in the face.”

The rest of the evening contained several laughs, memories, some minor grieving, and wishing our other friends like Halsin and Lae’zel were in on the fun. Thinking about Lae’zel’s sass and strong-willed attitude, I begin to miss her more. It’s only fair she’s finally free from her toxic goddess and enjoying life in the Astral Plane, as she should. I wonder if the githyanki egg we gave her finally hatched? Is she mothering the child, different from most githyanki? I have so many questions I wish could get answered, but I guess that is set for when she comes back to visit eventually. I just hope she’s alive and well.

We finally head to our room at Sharess’s Caress so we can get some well-needed sleep for tomorrow’s adventure back home. We check in for our room and head up the stairs, walking in between several people who are just hanging around, drinking and having fun, and a weird feeling stirs within my stomach. Something tells me that an unwelcome visitor is about to approach us, and I’m usually right about these instincts.

“Are you ready for a comfortable bed and a good night’s sleep?” Gale asks, smiling as he opens the door. “Well, hopefully.”

Before I could answer, we noticed Raphael standing in the middle of our room, as if he had been waiting for us this entire time. It’s like he knew we were coming here. His eyes are filled with raging emotion, as if he’s after me with a thirsty vengeance. We thought we killed him. We thought he was dead. This just makes everything so much worse. And, of course, this only leads to more questions that I have, but I’ll stress myself out even more if I ask them.

Raphael stands there next to our bed in his human form with that evil smirk on his face, giving me a chill down my spine. In his eyes, I can see nothing but vengeance and desire for control, possibly trying to figure out a way to destroy me. I swallow nervously as silence fills the room, wondering what he plans on saying to us.

“Raphael?” I ask, not daring to take another step. He chuckles maniacally, clapping his hands together. What could he possibly want from us other than vengeance?

“Ah, you two. Such a lovely couple despite the fact you both thought you could destroy me, turn me into ash. You thought you could steal from me with no consequences. You’re strong, I’ll give you that. Determined. Motivated. Though, you lack intelligence thinking you could kill a devil,” he says with a deep, raspy voice that could soothe one to sleep. If it weren’t for his terrifying words, I definitely would be. “No matter. I’m willing to forgive and forget, should you be willing.”

“How…did you come back?” I ask, still in shock he’s standing right in front of us. His evil and cruel smile fills me with rage and I want nothing more than to destroy this horrible man right where he stands. Alas, we tried that before and he still came back. If we don’t die now, it’s guaranteed we will if we try to strike him down again.

“We always come back, dear. I wasn’t sure if you knew or not, but I have the Crown. The Crown you thought I couldn’t get, the one you wouldn’t deliver to me personally. I am The Absolute, or what it wishes it could’ve been. I own everyone: the damned souls, the other devils who were once above me, and…I own you.”

“Cut the crap, Raphael. How did you get the crown?”

“A devil is no different than a goddess, in a way. I talked her with my smooth words into giving it to me. She was squirming with the amount of power, she could not handle how overwhelmed she felt. She clearly did not know how to use it. Then again, she is not about power. She doesn’t know how to contain it. That’s the problem when all you know is the weave.”

“I knew Mystra was insufferable, but I didn’t think she was stupid enough to hand it to you!” Gale exclaims, then groans with irritability and frustration. We look at each other, pissed off but horrified at the same time. What does this mean for our future? For our baby?

“Also, congratulations on the new baby. Maybe your child won’t cross me once it’s born. It would be a shame if…” He pauses, giving us a dirty smirk that makes my skin crawl. “If I took it from you and used it as a thrall.”

“You better not, you sick fuck,” I growl under my teeth. “Don’t even think about it. Man, I liked you more when you weren’t such a cocky and self-centered psychopath. Well, you still were, but not nearly as intolerable as you are now, you delusional monster.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have invaded my home and stolen from me, you inconsiderate meatsack.”

“Childish argument.”

“Besides, we needed to save Orpheus,” Gale chimes in. “We needed the hammer.”

“I would have given it to you in exchange for the crown, you ignorant fools. Either way, I get the crown no matter what, but in this case, you lose. Remember that.” Vapor lingers from the vapor of Raphael’s disappearance from the room. I can only feel anger and rage within me, trembling from the sight of Raphael in front of me, trembling at his words to antagonize me.

“We can’t let him do this,” I whisper, a single teardrop sliding down my cheek. “What do we do?”

“We have to make some sort of deal or compromise with him. It’s all devils want apparently. You and I both know this unfortunately. The problem is, what kind of deal can we make with him?” Gale is right but I have a feeling what he wants is the one possession I won’t part with.

[thatseventiesbitch]

Would it be okay to request a possible time-travel scenario where the gang + Red and Kitty end up in the 2020's and their reactions to basically everything?

Thanks for the request! I tried my best, haha. Not sure if this is what you had in mind, but this is what came out. 😂 It features the whole gang circa 2022(?) Have a request? You can send it here!

Fez fell asleep on the basement couch after an afternoon of consuming far too much sugar. He started to toss and turn on the narrow cushions, his sleep fitful and his brow beginning to sweat.

This dream wasn't beginning like his normal dreams - he wasn't naked on top of a cotton candy cloud, being fed tootsie rolls by a gaggle of naked models. Instead he was - dream!Fez rubbed his eyes, bringing everything into sharper focus - he was inside the Point Place central mall? He blinked a few times, taking it in.

Yep, it was the mall. He shook his head. Everything looked so familiar, but so different to him at the same time.

Fez whipped around, looking all the way around him, and he was surprised to find that the whole gang was there. Looking very peculiar indeed.

"Fez!" Jackie called. She waved at him, holding a small black rectangle in her hand. She was dressed in tight jeans and a leopard print top. "Stand in front of that fountain." She gestured a few feet to his left. "I'll put it on my story."

"What story?"

"My Snapchat story." Jackie rolled her eyes, annoyed that he wasn't listening to her. "Now move!" She waved her hand again, and Fez obeyed through his confusion. She frowned, though, when he just stood in front of the fountain limply. "You need to pose."

"You need to pose, Fez," Kelso agreed. He'd come up behind Jackie. He, too, was dressed strangely. "I suggest looking off into the distance. It's very mysterious." Jackie nodded her approval. "Maybe with a chin grasp," Kelso demonstrated. Now Jackie clapped.

"Michael's very good at this," Jackie informed Fez. "How many Instagram followers do you have now, Michael?"

"Almost 20,000," Kelso crowed, shining an imaginary badge on his chest. "Yeah. That's half as many as Beyoncé."

"No it's not," Donna mouthed, shaking her head. She'd approached too, with Eric.

"Who even comes to malls anymore?" Eric was complaining. "I forgot this was here."

"They're a dying breed," Hyde agreed, trailing a few feet behind. He clasped his belt buckle. "A relic." He grinned at Red. "Kinda like you."

"Watch it," the older man glared. He held his wife's hand in one hand, and a Dick's Sporting Goods bag in the other. "I'm only here for some new tennis shoes." He scowled. "The regular kind, not... lizard feet."

Kitty interrupted, giggling. "The salesman tried to get him to try on some of those newfangled running shoes. The ones with the toes."

"Just not right," Red mumbled, while Kitty continued to giggle. His phone chimed, and he lifted it from his coat pocket and then scowled. "And, damn it, the Packers just allowed another touchdown. Kitty - we've gotta go. C'mon."

"C'mon kids. Everyone in the Tahoe, let's go."

"Fine by me, man. The music here blows," Hyde turned to follow Red and Kitty to the parking garage. Eric and Donna nodded and did the same. A Lil Baby song had started playing, offending their ears.

"Wait!" Jackie protested. "My story!" She stuck her lip out in a little pout, and shook her phone at them all. "I want to document this day."

"Jackie, it's just been a normal day," Hyde said, but he turned around and so did Eric and Donna.

"So what?" she insisted. "It's been a normal day with my favorite people. And I want pictures!"

"Of course you do," Hyde sighed, annoyed. But he was all but won over.

"They always want to document it," Eric agreed. Donna poked his side.

"Starting with Fez," Jackie beamed at him. She held up her phone, and Kelso coached him on 'elongating his cheekbones'. She snapped his picture, and then grinned even wider when she analyzed her shot. "Aw. Fezzie! You're so cute!"

"I'm cuter," Kelso insisted, pushing forward and pushing Fez aside. "Take my picture next, Jackie. But - " he carefully instructed her which angles were his best, and they negotiated the best light.

"Gorgeous, Michael," Jackie promised him after she'd snapped it. "Especially with that new filter."

"Oh, that new filter's the best thing that ever happened to me," he chuckled.

"Don't let Brooke hear you say that," Donna scowled.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, m'lady," Eric sidled up behind her and kissed her cheek, quickly diffusing her anger. She smiled and leaned back into him, and Jackie snapped a few candid shots of them.

"Better than the new Star Wars movie?" she teased him.

"Hmm," he pretended to think about it. "It's about 50/50," he teased her back, and she elbowed him.

Finally, Jackie turned the camera around to selfie mode. "C'mere, Puddin'," she gestured for Hyde. He loped over to her, reluctant.

"Jackie," he sighed. "You know how much I hate pictures."

"But you love me, right?" She scrunched up her nose, and he couldn't help but grin. He didn't say anything, but he took off his sunglasses. Jackie grinned triumphantly, and pointed at him. "You didn't say no, Steven. That's as good as - "

He kissed her, and by the time they were done making out he let her take whatever photos she wanted.

Plus, they needed to wrap it up. Red was laying on the horn from the parking garage.

"Come on already! Dumbasses."

"It's okay, Mr. Red," Fez assured him from the passenger's seat. "I have a big bag of tootsie rolls we can eat while we wait, would you like some?"

"No, I sure as hell don't - "

"Ai!"

Fez's eyes blinked open suddenly as he gasped. Mr. Red and Mrs. Kitty stood above him. Who knows how long they'd been there - but just like in his dream, they did not look happy.

"I sure as hell don't want the foreign kid sleeping here again," Red was yelling.

"Hi honey," Mrs. Forman blinked down at him, more kindly. "Did you have a nice nap?" She laughed. "Well, now it's time to go."

"I-I had a dream," Fez explained, gasping for air. "And you were there," he pointed at Mrs. Forman, "And you," he pointed at Red, "And you," he pointed at Jackie and Hyde. They were walking out of Hyde's room, holding hands.

"I know what kind of dreams you have, Fez," Hyde frowned. "I don't want to be in 'em."

"I don't know what kind of dreams you have," Red grabbed Fez's arms and hauled him to his feet. "And I don't want to be in 'em either. Now get out." He shoved him out the door.

Fez was still contemplating his dreamland as he tumbled up the basement's icy steps, sucking in the frigid outdoor temperatures that reminded him he was no longer inside the Point Place mall - or whatever timeline his imagination had created.

"How do I get back there?" he frowned, smacking the side of his head futilely. To the land with the magic rectangles, and the lizard feet, and his happy friends, and never-ending tootsie-rolls?

It was an imaginary place, but it was a place Fez couldn't wait to get back to someday. Maybe tonight, in his dreams...