#in the hopes of making her fully a giant bird
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It's the doldrums of winter and I am back to playing Wildermyth!! Camilla Hect is 2/3rds a bird and has just fallen in love with Juri Arisugawa's fluffy redheaded daughter (her name is Wrayne because Juri went off and had a kid with an NPC and canonical Juri's only otp is JurixCrying in the Rain)
And I let Utena run through a portal chasing after an elusive childhood memory, get stuck in time, and have to search for 10 years for ways to get back to Anthy
#wildermyth#its fun my first campaign was like all locked tomb characters mostly#but you can only carry over one ? legacy hero#so i brought Camilla#in the hopes of making her fully a giant bird#so my character sheet this time is mostly Utena characters#except for a wild Madi Scott that Anthy recruited#so maybe next campaign will be girl black sails#tlt wildermyth
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Portal 2 is still the perfect game to me. I hyperfixated on it like crazy in middle school. Would sing Want You Gone out loud cuz I had ADHD and no social awareness. Would make fan animations and pixel art. Would explain the ending spoilers and fan theories to anyone who'd listen. Would keep up with DeviantArt posts of the cores as humans. Would find and play community-made maps (Gelocity is insanely fun).
I still can't believe this game came out 12 years ago and it looks like THIS.
Like Mirror's Edge, the timeless art style and economic yet atmospheric lighting means this game will never age. The decision not to include any visible humans (ideas of Doug Rattmann showing up or a human co-op partner were cut) is doing so much legroom too. And the idea to use geometric tileset-like level designs is so smart! I sincerely believe that, by design, no game with a "realistic art style" has looked better than Portal 2.
Do you guys remember when Nvidia released Portal with RTX at it looked like dogshit? Just the most airbrushed crap I've ever seen; completely erased the cold, dry, clinical feel of Aperture.
So many breathtakingly pit-in-your-stomach moments I still think about too. And it's such a unique feeling; I'd describe at as... architectural existentialism? Experiencing the sublime under the shadow of manmade structures (Look up Giovanni Battista Piranesi's art if you're curious)? That scene where you're running from GLaDOS with Wheatley on a catwalk over a bottomless pit and––out of rage and desperation––GLaDOS silently begins tearing her facility apart and Wheatley cries 'She's bringing the whole place down!' and ENORMOUS apartment building-sized blocks begin groaning towards you on suspended rails and cement pillars crumble and sparks fly and the metal catwalk strains and bends and snaps under your feet. And when you finally make it to the safety of a work lift, you look back and watch the facility close its jaws behind you as it screams.
Or the horror of knowing you're already miles underground, and then Wheatley smashes you down an elevator shaft and you realize it goes deeper. That there's a hell under hell, and it's much, much older.
Or how about the moment when you finally claw your way out of Old Aperture, reaching the peak of this underground mountain, only to look up and discover an endless stone ceiling built above you. There's a service door connected to some stairs ahead, but surrounding you is this array of giant, building-sized springs that hold the entire facility up. They stretch on into the fog. You keep climbing.
I love that the facility itself is treated like an android zooid too, a colony of nano-machines and service cores and sentient panel arms and security cameras and more. And now, after thousands of years of neglect, the facility is festering with decomposition and microbes; deer, raccoons, birds. There are ghosts too. You're never alone, even when it's quiet. I wonder what you'd hear if you put your ear up against a test chamber's walls and listened. (I say that all contemplatively, but that's literally an easter egg in the game. You hear a voice.)
Also, a reminder that GLaDOS and Chell are not related and their relationship is meant to be psychosexual. There was a cut bit where GLaDOS would role-play as Chell's jealous housewife and accuse her of seeing other cores in between chambers. And their shared struggle for freedom and control? GLaDOS realizing, after remembering her past life, that she's become the abuser and deciding that she has the power to stop? That even if she can't be free, she can let Chell go because she hates her. And she loves her. Most people interpret GLaDOS "deleting Caroline in her brain" as an ominous sign, that she's forgetting her human roots and becoming "fully robot." But to me, it's a sign of hope for GLaDOS. She's relieving herself of the baggage that has defined her very existence, she's letting Caroline finally rest, and she's allowing herself to grow beyond what Cave and Aperture and the scientists defined her to be. The fact that GLaDOS still lets you go after deleting Caroline proves this. She doesn't double-back or change her mind like Wheatley did, she sticks to her word because she knows who she is. No one and nothing can influence her because she's in control. GLaDOS proves she's capable of empathy and mercy and change, human or not.
That's my retrospective, I love this game to bits. I wish I could experience it for the first time again.
#ramblings#long post#not art#personal#also i know “did glados actually delete caroline” is debated cuz the credits song disputes this#but i like to think she did#it's not sad. caroline died a long time ago#it's a goodbye
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FIRST PLACE
Summary: You and your fellow cast mates play Spill Your Guts or Fill Your guts with James Corden.
Warnings: kissing, gross food and yea
"Hello, everyone!" James Corden announces to the crowd. "Here we have a wheel of all of the food you may or may not eat." You, Jenna, and Mason look at the wheel as James continues, "We've got cow blood & pork tongue jelly. Our lovely favorited, the bull penis."
The crowd laughs. Jenna quickly looks away, her face turning pale. Mason shakes his head as his eyes widen with shock while you laugh. James notices their reactions and grins, "We also have bird saliva, bug trifle, jellyfish, a giant water scorpion, and many other items."
You, Jenna, and Mason look at the foods placed in front of you with disgust. James smiles proudly, marveling at the wheel of food. He giggles, looking around at the three of you before announcing, "Welcome to the world of exotic cuisine!" Jenna let out a groan, Mason playfully rolled his eyes, and you just shook your head. You all had no idea what you were in for.
"Is that whipped cream?" You ask your host, pointing at the 'bug trifle'. James grinned. "No, that's not whipped cream. It's a special blend of cream cheese and grasshopper larvae." Your mouth drops open. You stare at the trifle in horror. "Uhh... I think I'm going to pass on that one."
"Just because you said that, I'll make sure to pass it on your turn." You smile gratefully as Mason shakes his head in disagreement, "That's totally unfair!" Mason looks at you and says, "I hope he replaces your bug trifle with the cow and pork jelly." You laugh and shake your head. " I think I'd rather take my chances with the bug trifle!" You and Mason laugh and Jenna joins in, finding the sound contagious.
"Y/N!" The crowd roars at the mention of your name, and you grimace. "This question is for you." James looks at you, holding the card in his hand. "But before we get into that, we'll have to choose your dish."
James looks at you, holding the card in his hand. "But before we get into that, we'll have to choose your dish." You take a deep breath and give a nod. You can feel the anticipation of the crowd, "I choose... bird saliva!" James picks, a playful grin on his face.
"That's not too bad," says Jenna, who is sitting next to you. "Let's see." James fully lifts the card. "Y/N! Who is the worst celebrity you've ever had to interact with?" Jenna Mason, and James turn to you expectantly.
You smile, "Umm... Wow! I'm really on the spot here." You could think of millions of names, but did you really wanna go through with the gossip? You look at the bird saliva that's now been spun in front of you, and then back at James.
Mason speaks up with a smile on his face, "Just say her." He jokes, pointing at the brunette beside you. Jenna's mouth widens in shock. You just laugh, and everyone joined in. "You got me, Mason. It's Jenna." You joke, turning to her and giving her a smile. After thinking about it, you can't do it. You lift the glass and indeed take a sip of the bird salvia.
Jenna grins and shakes her head, amused. Mason's face lights up as he cheers. James laughs as you swallow the liquid, gulping down the water right after. "I just wanna know why you drank that instead of saying a name!" Shaking your head you place down your glass. "Never again."
Mason laughs, "That was a brave thing to do." Jenna nods in agreement, "That was really courageous of you." James pats you on the back, "Well done, mate!" You smile, lifting up your hands in triumph. " You look around with a smug look on your face and say, "Oh, it was nothing. Just another day saving the world."
Everyone laughs and applauds your bravery. You playfully take a bow and bask in the glory of the moment. Jenna now picks up a card, holding it to her chest. "Mason, Mason, Mason." She repeats as her eyes scan over the food choices. Mason hums in acknowledgement, watching his co-star scan the items. Jenna smiles as she finds what she is looking for, "I chose the giant water scorpion for you."
"I can't believe this. I can't believe you!" Mason holds his hand over his heart, "I thought we were co-stars!"
Mason laughs, his mouth widening into a smile. Jenna's eyes twinkle mischievously begins reading the card. Mason listens, shaking his head in disbelief. "Who was the most annoying person on set?"
Mason looks around the room, his eyes meeting each of the crew’s. He points a finger and says, “Time to dig in!” Everyone laughs but it soon turns into shock as Mason quickly stuffs the scorpion in his mouth.
"It was probably Y/N," James jokes and you shake your head laughing. Mason swallows the scorpion in one gulp. Everyone stares in amazement and disbelief. Mason then says, "That was the most annoying person on set!" You can't help but laugh at Mason's comment. He looks around, a satisfied grin on his face. Mason then stands up and takes a bow, as everyone else applauds. He sits back down, picking up a card.
"Jenna, I want you to eat the bug trifle." Jenna thins out her lips and James laughs, "Any who! You've recently signed a deal with Adidas." Jenna nods in agreement and the crowd cheers, you lift your hands clapping along with them. James smiles, "You should be proud, it's a great accomplishment. You should celebrate with a bug trifle!" Jenna thins out her lips and James laughs.
Mason tilts his head with a nod at James' joke before raising the card again. "How much did they sign you for?"
Jenna doesn't spare Mason a second glance, the spoon already in her hand. Mason raises his eyebrows and James speaks up, "Really? Not even an estimate?" Jenna slowly shakes her head, scooping a spoonful of the trifle. "Don't forget the little roach too." You say, pointing at the roach onto of the trifle. Jenna shoots a glare your way, then turns back to her trifle. She takes a bite, her expression unchanged. Mason lets out a sigh and James just shakes his head.
Though she tries to stay strong but picks up her bucket, spitting it all out. "She thought she was a champ!" You laugh, looking at the crowd. They all begin laughing and Jenna searches around for her water, "Where's my water?" She asks. You hand her your own and she takes a sip.
She smiles at you and thanks you for your kindness. She then turns to the other people in the crowd and gives them a thumbs up. "I'm good!" she says. The crowd cheers as she straightens her back, and now it is your turn to grab a card. "Mr. Corden." He hums, smiling. "I want you to devour..." He raises an eyebrow at your choice of words earning a giggle for Jenna. "The jellyfish!"
You both laugh at the absurdity of it. "Or! 'I get to see what your last three texts with Justin Bieber were about." James pulls out his phone, nervously looking down, finding 3 texts worth showing. He slowly hands his phone to you. "Justin says, hey man how are you? It's been a while." You smile, glancing at the crowd. "James says, pretty well. I have a few things planned for the show. How is everyone on your side?"
James nods, remembering when he typed this, but he doesn't remember Justin's response. "Justin replies, thumbs up emoji." James grins, pleased, as he takes back his phone. "Nice lil convo there," Mason says and you nod in agreement. James pockets his phone and turns back to Mason. "Thanks, it was nice catching up with an old friend."
Jenna picks up a card, smirking at you. You inhale a breath, "Throw it at me Ortega." Playfully she lifts the card in her hand throwing the card at you and you catch it with one hand. "Hey, show off," Mason laughs and you smile, feeling a bit of pride. "You know it," you reply.
She jokingly snatches the card back, using it to point at the cow blood & pork tongue jelly." Jenna grins, "Wanna try it? I heard it's really good." You make a face, "No thanks, I'm good. I'm sure Mason's game for it though." Mason laughs, lifting his hands in surrender. "I'll pass too," he says. Jenna shakes her head reads the card, "Y/N."
You smile at the girl sending her a peace sign, "Rank these kiss scenes from worst to best." You drop your face into your hands, the crowd gets louder by the second.
The girl looks at you stunned and you can feel your cheeks getting redder by the second. You really didn't wanna eat the dish in front of you. "Mikey Madison in Scream V, Alexa Demie from Euphoria, or me... in our new movie." She laughs, and you take a deep breath, "Umm!"
Mason's eyes widen. He then thinks of an idea, "Wait! Hold that response." He holds up a finger, taking his phone out of his pocket. He starts to type something. You can see the excitement in his eyes.
He looks up at you with a smile and says, "We can't leave her out!" He was going to call Mikey! She was a sweetheart and you really did enjoy your kiss scene with her. She was a talented actor and kisser! Mason quickly Face-Timed Mikey, who answered on the fifth ring. "Hello?" She says, her soft voice playing through the speakers.
You throw your head back groaning as Jenna and James wave at the camera. "We're on The Late Show right now and Y/N's about to rank her best kisses from worst to best!" James cheers as the audience erupts in laughter. You try to keep a straight face, but can't help but laugh at the ridiculous situation.
You take a deep breath and start to rank your best kisses from worst to best. "Um... Alexa because my character was a rebound. Ummm..." you glance at Jenna who looks back at you amused, and then at Mikey who smiles softly.
"Jenna because! Spoiler alert, you kiss Chad right after and then Mikey! There! Boom!" You stand up from your chair and the crowd screams. Mikey laughs and Jenna rolls her eyes in good humor.
Mason says his goodbyes to Mikey as James closes out his show, "There you have it everyone! Y/N's best kisses from worst to best! Make sure to check out Scream VI in theaters now! Have a great night!" The crowd erupts in applause, and Jenna and Mason stand up waving at the crowd, you do the same blowing kisses as well.
You take a bow with the cast and head backstage. Jenna and Mason thank you for joining them onstage, and you all hug one another. You make your way offstage, filled with a sense of accomplishment. As you walk back to your dressing room, you can hear the cheers of the audience still echoing in your ears.
You smile to yourself and bask in the glory of the moment. You can't believe how far you've come and how much you've achieved. You know that this is just the beginning of a long journey.
Half and hour pasts and you're sitting down in your dressing room, scrolling on your phone. Your fans didn't know you had a TikTok as you scrolling through the app on an alt account, sometimes interacting with them. You hear a knock on the door and you quickly put your phone away. Jenna appears from behind the door, a smile on her face.
"Oh! There's second place," you joke, standing up. Jenna laughs and says, "Our kiss scene deserves first place." What does it matter if I kiss Chad after? You're literally a homie hopper." You raise an eyebrow, "You cannot call my character a homie hopper as you admit to kissing their best friend in the same sentence."
Laughing, Jenna rolls her eyes, stepping closer to you. "I deserve first place." You smirk, "That's not how it works. It's all about believability and you can't portray a character like that and expect to win." Jenna sighs, "Fine. I'll concede, only..." She steps even closer, now having to look up at you. You feel your heart beat increasing, the air between you thickening.
Jenna looks at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes, her lips twitching into a small smile. "If you let me get a rematch." She finishes. She holds your gaze, awaiting your response. You feel a smile tugging at your lips, and you can't help but agree. "Alright, you've got yourself a rematch."
She steps back and you furrow your eyebrows. I thought she was going to kiss me? You think to yourself.
"Y/C/N," Oh. She actually wants to redo your scene. You step closer and she smiles but quickly removes it, getting back in character. You hum, tilting your head at the shorter girl. "I wouldn't- I wouldn't be hurt if you left." You furrow your eyebrows as she looks away, her eyes resting on the ground.
You sigh, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Why would I ever leave you Tara?" you ask softly. You can feel the tension between you, but you know that it's only for the scene. Or is it?
She shrugs, her gaze returning to yours. "Because my life's messy. First you get tased by my sister and then you get chased around a bodega by Ghostface." You try to make a joke, but she doesn't laugh. Instead, she turns away, her shoulders heavy. "It's like I'm cursed," she says quietly.
You reach out and gently touch her arm. "You're not cursed," you tell her. "You just have a lot of bad luck. We can get through this together." She looks up at you and finally smiles, her expression softening. Your hand moves to her cheek, caressing it softly.
She leans into your touch and takes a deep breath. For the first time in a long time, she feels a sense of peace. The gaze moves from your eyes to your lips. You both lean toward each other slowly. You both close your eyes and your lips meet.
You feel the warmth of her lips and the warmth of her body. In that moment, all your worries and stress seem to melt away. You wrap your arms around her waist and pull her closer. You can feel her heart beating in time with yours, and you know in that moment that everything will be alright. You stay in that embrace, feeling the warmth and peace of that moment, until reality slowly starts to come back.
And scene. Well Chad was supposed to walk in after, but... hey!
You begin to pull away put Jenna pulls you back into another kiss, with more intensity. You kiss her back with the same intensity, her tongue finding it's way into your mouth. She eagerly explored every inch of your mouth, her soft lips pressing hungrily against yours.
You responded eagerly, your hands exploring her body as your tongues entwined. You felt her hands roaming around your own body, a sensual exploration that left you trembling with desire. You each felt a warmth that spread throughout your bodies, the intensity of the moment pushing you further and further. You both pulled away, breathless and smiling.
Suddenly the door opens. "Hey, guys!" You and Jenna jump after at Mason's voice. He looks between the two of you, confused. Mason takes in the scene, then grins and shakes his head. "Uh, nevermind, I'll come back later." He backs out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Huh, he did end up walking in after.
"Jenna Ortega, you've now been awarded with first place." Jenna jumped with joy and screamed. You shake your head at her acting, she then jumps into your arms, placing her hands on both sides of your face - pulling you into another award winning kiss.
#reader insert#jenna ortega#jenna marie ortega#jenna ortega x reader#wattpad#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna x reader#jenna ortega x gn!reader#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna ortega x g!p reader#jenna ortega x male reader#jenna ortega imagine
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Being a dad is something he's always wanted. Call it a cliche, right, the all-American, golden boy who's caught up in the idea of four to six snot-nosed brats looking up to him as they try to make sense of all the big and small things because they have no other choice. You only get one dad, right?
He images them, crawling and then walking and then sprinting through the same ancient, brand-new stages of life. Six months, learning the kitchen-magic of how their fingers and toes bend on command. A year, stumbling Jello-legged down a hallway. Fifteen, slamming their bedroom door only to rush, crying, into Steve's arms when he works up the courage to rap his knuckles on the wood like the dad from Full House.
Maybe. It's all Steve's ever wanted. More than that signed Nicks basketball his own dad sent for him when he was twelve. More than Nancy Wheeler. More than his need for mountains, and oceans, and something else.
But then he meets Billy, and it's like all that other shit goes away for a while. None of it disappears, really, but he's got something to focus on, now. Something to work toward, with someone, and that makes it worse, in a way.
Billy finally lets him fuck, and Steve lays in bed that night with an irritatingly awful douchebag drooling a spot onto his chest, and Steve thinks. Knows--
Look, he won't admit it on the first fuck, but this is it for him. He wants to buy this dude house, and he wants wedding rings around the fat and bone of both their fingers, and. He wants babies, with Billy.
Aches Billy to love him.
He wants a life with this asshole. The whole nine. Steve runs his hand through Billy's hair and falls asleep imagining family Christmases, and vacations, and the fragile, shining hope that Billy will wake up tomorrow and swear that he's in love. That Steve is who he's waited 19 years for. That to each other, they'll always belong.
Obviously, that doesn't happen. Maybe.
If it does Steve wouldn't know, because Billy's not a lunatic. He's gone before the sky's fully blue. Leaves his phone number scrawled on the corner of Steve's mirror in Sharpie.
Steve's in love.
So. Immediately, he wants the impossible, but mostly, he just wants Billy. And by some giant, invisible, choking miracle he gets Billy. His body first, and then his thoughts. His laugh, genuine and biting and whole. Billy shares his memories, like pieces of bread dropped in water for hungry birds, for Steve. Achingly slow, he tells his hopes, his dreams, and.
Eventually, one night with his head on Steve's chest he says, "You terrify me. I never want it to end."
So. It's basically love.
Steve's a loose canon when it comes to this feeling. Pedal to the medal, he shoots through walls with bright red booming firepower until everything is cracked and bleeding and open around them. Until there's room enough to say, "I love you, move in with me."
So, Billy does. Impossible.
Wonderful and joking, even though it's not a joke when Steve's parents meet him on move in day and Steve's dad is thrilled that Billy knows shit about cars, and Steve's mom likes that Billy has a weathered recipe book that was, "passed down from my grandma, back in California," for her to find a place for in their tiny, warm kitchen while she unpacks.
"He's very nice," Steve's mother says, "Respectful. Handsome." In that same wistful, sleepy tone that she used when she first called Nancy wheeler sweet. Beautiful.
"He's a fine young man, son," Steve's dad tells him. "Try not to run him off."
Steve watches them reverse from the ratty, rocky, untamed driveway, with his heart in his throat. Imagines the day he and Billy will leave their kids, supported and loved fiercely, to make that wobbly step toward the brush-fire shore of their lives.
--
Steve's plan for the future lives and breathes in a small, tucked-away corner in his mind for months. He nearly chokes to death on it, several times a day, watching Billy relax into his routine.
Billy cooks dinner every night. They eat on the couch in their boxers, dishes left on the coffee table until Billy kisses him awake in the blue light of the television, "Let's go to bed, baby," he says. Steve always notices that the plates and cups are cleared away, the living room tidy for the dawn.
Billy buys a shovel and digs two holes in their patchy backyard. Steve watches him from the kitchen window, wondering what the cavities will grow with the start of spring.
Billy plants a clothesline. "My mom used to dry our clothes this way," He says, when Steve raises an eyebrow. He tacks sheets and sweaters to sway in the sunlight. Talks about laying a patio out there, so they can grill for people when it's warm.
Steve gets hard from the image of himself, in an apron, grilling hot dogs and hamburgers for their friends, first, and kids. Someday. A total dad.
--
Billy makes use of his library card and checks out every book about homesteading he can find. He learns about gardening, and bricklaying, and how to buff gashes out of hardwood floors. For his birthday, Billy hints at a Better Homes and Gardens subscription.
When Steve forks out the cash and the May issue arrives in the mail two months later, Billy presses a hasty kiss to his forehead and disappears onto the porch. He spends his Sunday afternoons with sticky notes and an overused ballpoint pen from that moment on, circling things that have no rhyme or reason, to Steve.
--
They've been living in their house for six months when Billy says, suddenly, "We should see if we can buy it." Like he's been planning his own version of their future.
It's Sunday, and he's just come up for air from Better Homes and Gardens. There's a cheese plate in his hands. He's parked by the front door, on his way out, looking startled as if the words escaped from a caged area buried deep inside of him.
"Huh?" Steve's more of the lay-around-and-rot-in-his-underwear-on-Sunday's type. He's eating ice cream out of the container, distracted by something Barney Fife says. He laughs.
"We should buy the place," Billy tells him.
Steve blinks, "The house?"
"It's our house," Billy says delicately, with all the weight of the world resting on him.
Steve looks up from the television set, shocked that Billy's hair is wet in some places and drying in others. As if he was being groomed by some large, impatient cat. He peers around Billy, out the screen door. "Is it raining?"
"Sprinkling," Billy says, "I have an umbrella."
"Your magazine's gonna get wet."
"I'm reading The Grapes of Wrath," Billy tells him, pulling a weathered copy out from under his cheese plate.
"Sure, but if the rain picks up, your book--"
"--The characters could use a little water," Billy says, "They're trapped in the dust bowl."
"I'm in love with you," Steve says. Like it's the first time he's ever admitted something like this out loud. So it's a surprise. "I like that you read. I like that you talk about everything like it's real."
Billy pads over to the couch and knocks Steve's legs apart. He settles on the arm of the thing, cold, wet toes pressing into Steve's thigh. Steve winces, sputtering when Billy feeds him a slice of American cheese wrapped in bologna.
He chews. Swallows. "I need to make more money, baby."
"Why," Billy asks, feeding himself.
"Because," Steve chokes on the next round Billy feeds him, heart soaring when Billy smiles, "Because if we're gonna lay a patio and grill for our friends I want to make sure you have decent ingredients."
"I don't mind the cheap stuff."
"You deserve better," Than what I can provide, Steve doesn't say.
Billy shrugs, feeding him another round of cheese and meat. "Well, if we're following through with the patio and the grill--"
"--And a porch awning," Steve says, feeding Billy a slice of cheese, "I'm adding that to the list. You can’t read your book and eat snacks while holding a fucking umbrella over your head."
Billy stares at him, swallowing and red cheeked. "I think any sort of permanent installment has to be cleared through the landlord."
Steve thinks about it, humming low when Billy slips off the armrest and settles, heavily, into his lap. "So, we buy the place."
"I need a better job, too."
"We'll look when the paper comes tomorrow."
They lapse into silence, eating cheese and bologna until it's gone, then they move to the ice cream Steve was working his way through, chuckling at The Andy Grifith Show.
It starts pouring rain, little hammers falling on the roof until the power flickers. "I want to make this house nice for you," Billy says.
Steve looks at him. "It's already nice."
"It could be better," Billy says, fiddling with the hair on Steve's chest. "We could have a garden. And I think the beige walls are boring as shit, we need to get some wallpaper. Or paint, or something."
"What else should we do?"
Billy shrugs, "The kitchen needs a rug. I saw this book at the library about how old men in Russia and China and shit learn to weave rugs on giant wooden looms. Some of them have seaters, and others hang them from the ceiling. Your car needs a new power steering pump--"
"--Sounds like you need a shed."
"Yeah, I guess so," Billy says. He grins, and then his brows furrow. "But. Steve, I want to build us a life, here. I want to start my life with you, I don't want to wait until we move to something we own, because I like this house, and I feel like when we start to grow our family, we can--"
Steve's heart stops beating.
His vision tunnels, all his focus collapsing on the words Billy says. Phrases that sound wonderful and impossible, all knitting together to equal nurseries built from two-by-four.
Billy stares at him cheeks red. "Sorry, I know we haven't talked about any of this. I get excited."
"I'm in love with you," Steve tells him, breathless.
"I know, dumbass, I'm in love with you."
Steve kisses him. Pulls away. "You really wanna buy a house?"
"Yeah. Not a house, this house."
"You wanna have my babies?"
Billy tugs on his chest hair, grinning when Steve yelps. "Maybe you wanna have my babies, instead."
"Sure," Steve tells him immediately, "Yeah, anything you want."
"I'm going back onto the porch," Billy says, "We'll start with the job listings in the paper."
Steve watches him go. Thinks he could be alright at this, being a husband and a father. Someday.
Right now, he's alright at being Billy's.
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let's pretend i live on the west coast and it's still DAY 5: AU!!
do you think we're gay in every universe?
in which i turn insane and draw 5 different drawings for one prompt. and as a result, the rendering is a lot rougher, but oh well! i hope the designs are fun enough!!
GORE WARNING!!!!! and design ramblings under the cut
Role Swap: i referenced hanyuu from higurashi for king metata because, while dedede has no idea about how to properly dress in traditional voidborn-based royalty attire (because his parents never taught him), metata wears EVEN MORE traditional garb, fancified, and a tiara rather than a crown cap. instead of hiding his wings in his cape, he hides them in his silk scarf. i didn’t even have to change his hime cut. he’s still cocky and arrogant but less traumatized so he’s less serious and more haughty. also his bow tying his hakama is shaped like an M haha. meanwhile, knight dede is far more armored, aiming for bulk over dps, and of course his armor has his classic triangular patterning all over the place. instead of the jaw scar, his eyes are clawed over. i wonder how that happened...
Species Swap: voidborn dedede is shorty mcshort short, even shorter than regular meta. he’s so short he doesn’t even wear hakama cuz he’d just trip over them, so he sticks with just a kimono and obi (once again adding to the androgyny common in most voidborn designs). his geta are less bulky as well. it’s not seen fully because his wings are out but his cloak goes all the way to his ankles instead of his knees. additionally, his wings have a blue gradient that matches the new color of his robe. his hammer is more embellished, like if galaxia was a giant mallet instead of a sword. and to keep with the ‘circular’ feeling for the hair common to my puffball gijinkas, i gave him kinda croissanty hair. meanwhile, avian meta has eschewed much of his armor for the sake of piercing and aerodynamics. he’s much lighter and his sleeves flow out to make room for the wings he can spawn on his arms. and of course his hair is slicked back and feathery like Coo and Vul. even his mask has a few more spikes to imitate bird talons.
dedede is a negatively-to-neutrally charged voidborn. i talked with my sibling @clutzicone-dts and they suggested denial as a birth emotion. i also like @moonmacabre01's idea of using regret. very fitting for a redeemable character
Gender Swap: normal dedede wears his garb in a feminine fashion, wearing the kimono over the hakama, so fem dedede does it in reverse, tucking the kimono inside the hakama. different sandals again, and wearing just the crown while eschewing the cap, mostly so i can have her long flowing braids more visible. at least she has a top knot to resemble the pom pom tho. meta meanwhile is largely unchanged physically (duh, voidborns don't have physical sex) with outfit adjustments. she keeps some design aspects from her younger days to distinguish her from normal meta while still seeming in character. tassels on the shoulder pads, and a hood on the cape instead of the frill. plus her lower body armor is longer and more decorated to give the illusion of a skirt without actually being one and i gave her low double buns to keep the round hair shape without just leaving it as a bowl cut
Mirror Versions: i have a whole ass complicated headcanon for the mirror dimension. i think it would be best described that, in this gijinkaverse, the mirror dimension is less an alternate universe and more an alternate timeline that went wrong at a very specific point. it's led to shadow dedede being much more... in tune, let's say, with the dark matter blade within his heart. and dameta isn't very pleased about that. after all, the two never got the chance to reconcile over Meta Knight's Revenge before things went to shit in that world. so they have a very complicated, somewhat tragic relationship. but i can talk about that more another time. let's just say that all of this is why i made certain slight changes to the two's designs. but i also gave dameta striped legs because stripes are for evil people
Bad Ending:
:)
no spoilers. feel free to theorize about it. i'm sure there are plenty of clues to let you figure it out on your own.
#my art#fanart#art#digital art#kirby#king dedede#meta knight#dark matter swordsman#shadow dedede#dark meta knight#metadede#mtddweek2024
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Elsa in Frozen III / IV
I've been thinking about Frozen 3 and 4 a lot lately (surprise, surprise) and while I am beyond excited about the epicness we're promised, what I really want to see (and hope they will show us) is Elsa being the dork we all know she is. Don't get me wrong, Frozen 2 did have such moments; but now Elsa is truly, actually, properly, fully free to be herself. And just thinking about it makes my heart burst.
Like, I imagine this idiot being absolutely unhinged.
She does competitive swimming against the Nokk, and cannonballs into piles of snow/leaves with Bruni. She takes naps with the Giants, and dances with Gale. She goes around the Enchanted Forest singing songs and having snowball fights, which she loses because she plays fair. She races barefoot against Honeymaren and Ryder while they're riding their reindeer. She makes horrible puns that she delivers with winks and finger guns, she sets up silly pranks that everyone finds twice as amusing because of her blissful maniacal gremlin giggles. She plays hide-and-seek with the Spirits, and climbs trees just to land cat-like behind Anna to spook her when she visits the Forest. She makes snow slides for the children, and they have so much fun with it, that she joins in the game, too. She sends thousands of letters to her sister to tell her about all the new fish and birds and animals she's encountered, and then makes forts in the Castle Library to read all about them. She brings new flowers for Anna's study every week, which she spent days picking because she wanted only the best for her little sister. She's still terrible at charades but now she jokes about it. She talks to Kristoff about reindeer endlessly, mentioning the names that she assigned to those in the Forest, leaving him confused but happy to converse with his sister-in-law about something that he loves. She brings the Northuldra chocolate. She gets up every morning to watch the sunrise, and stops whatever she's doing to watch the sunset. She hides little snowmen all around the castle for Anna to find when she's having a bad day. She counts how many leaves fall from Olaf's favorite tree to help him keep track. She sneaks carrots to Sven. She randomly lies on the ground to sunbathe. She makes bets with Anna about where it will snow first, and whoever wins gets to put the carrot on the snowman they build wherever it snowed.
She's this sweet, fun-loving, mischievous, and happy person that everyone wants to be around, because she's so fucking interesting and fun and smart and kind. She's the person she was forced to hide. She's having the fun she missed all those years, and she does childish things just because she can, because she's finally free; free to explore the world and learn new things, free to feel her emotions. She's finally free to show herself.
And she's overjoyed to be alive.
#just thinking about this makes me emotional#she deserves all the happiness#i want to see her happy#i want 3 hours of her just enjoying life#she fucking deserves it#frozen#frozen 3#frozen 4#elsa#i love her so much
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I've mentioned in a past post how I don't fully believe vaggie is a fallen angel, at least not yet and I've been seeing a lot of concept designs for fallen Emily and it's got me wondering what fallen vaggie would look like.
I mean it's kind of obvious that Lucifer didn't have horns and a tail While in heaven (this is just speculation) so it could be fair to assume he got them when he fell. I've seen people say that his colour palette could have changed as well but there's not really evidence for this as we've seen angels with darker colours in heaven so maybe Lucifer was always red.
When vaggie was left in hell the only thing that happened is that she lost her wings meaning she couldn't fly back to heaven, and in more than anything we see Lucifer presumably being thrown out of heaven by the elders. I think the elders are the only ones who can make an angel fall. Lucifer also said he wouldn't be able to go to heaven with Charlie, which makes me think it's not just a fear thing but that he physically couldn't go, but vaggie could enter just fine. Which is why I think vaggie hasn't fallen yet.
It could be used in a later season when the threat of heaven becomes more severe. Vaggie officially falling (if she hasn't already)could be used in very interesting ways as it could give vaggie a whole new form like we've seen from most of the rest of the cast. Like a lot of them have demon / angel forms.
Lucifer- we see it in the final episode
Charlie - her horns pop out a lot and we see more of it in the final episode, though I don't think we've seen the full thing.
Alastor- we've seen it quite a lot, specially in episode 5.
Angel dust- while we don't see many big changes when he gets pissed at husk in episode 4, his lower set of eyes get bigger and it looks like he gets taller, I really hope they do more with it.
Katie killjoy- in the pilot in her fight with Charlie she takes on the look of a praying mantis.
Emily - in episode 6 in her first meeting her wings are on her head and she has a lot more eyes
Sera- looks like a giant bird with multiple eyes.
A lot of the cast have secondary forms the only ones where really missing are husk, niffy, vaggie and some of the overlords.
Though I'm focusing on vaggie in this post, if she had a fallen form what would it look like, I think a lot of people would go with the obvious answer and say a moth but I disagree. Lucifer as far as we've seen didn't really change to much. The moth thing could have been what Charlie believed vaggie was before she found out she was an angel because in certain shots vaggie looks like a moth but in others she looks like a bird.
Would she gain the horns from her exorcist helmet? ( I've seen fanart it looks cool) Would her colours change?. Would she be stronger?. Could she even fall to begin with? From what we've seen exorcists don't have the magical abilities of most other angels there more physical so maybe you need massive amounts of power to fall.
Vaggie being an angel in hell but not a fully fallen one , would just be extremely interesting.
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Can you suggest some of your favourite buck breakdown fics?
Ooooo, yes of course!
Tick Tick Boom by ChasetheWindTouchtheSky (@chase-the-windandtouch-the-sky)
30k | Teen
“Did you know if you put a frog in water and slowly bring it to boiling, it won’t hop out?” Chris is chattering as Buck makes a quick dinner while Eddie argues with his gas company on the phone. He can hear the occasional swear word in Spanish as his voice raises. Eddie doesn’t like to raise his voice around Christopher – the very thought makes Buck want to kiss him full on the mouth – so he decided to take it to the living room while Chris sits with his homework in the kitchen and Buck cooks.
“Hmm?” Buck asks, unable to fully pull himself out of Bobby’s baked mac and cheese recipe. It took him years, but he finally convinced the man to write it down. Bobby’s handwriting was juvenile at best on a good day, but this was nearly unreadable. Buck wonders if he did that on purpose. “Frogs?”
“Yeah!” Chris states. “My teacher said that if you put a frog in a pot, you have to make sure it’s not immediately boiling. You put them in water and then slowly raise the temperature and they won’t realize what’s happening. Then once they realize, they have no place to go. They can’t jump out.”
*
S6 Spec: Buck decides he doesn’t need therapy, reverts to some bad habits, and explodes. Or, the Breakdown Fic
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bro·ken by kristen999 (@thekristen999)
32k | Mature
bro·ken
adjective
1. having been fractured or damaged and no longer in one piece or in working order.
2. having given up all hope; despairing.
Forced to take shady side jobs to pay his bills, Evan Buckley doesn’t think he’s ever seen such rock bottom. Until he meets Eddie Diaz, a man even more desperate and alone. Season 3 AU
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crashing, i'm crashing right into you by himbobuckley (@bumble-of-the-bee)
6k | Teen
Buck gets an unfortunate call while driving and spirals before getting hit by a drunk driver. Surprise, coma!buck is real and can hear the things people (Eddie and Maddie) say while he's unconscious. Follows the struggles Buck deals with while trying to come back and the ones he has to face if he does.
6.07 spec, so the sperm donor issue is a Thing.
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shelter my eyes from the sun (and wait for the birds to fly by) by lizzybizzyzzz (@lizzybizzyzzz)
25k | Mature
There’s always been a lingering precedent- Buck was born to save, born to die trying to at the very least. Buck couldn’t save Daniel, could barely save Chris, dragged Eddie across hot pavement under a burning fire truck, couldn't save his sister or his parents from the lifelong heartbreak of losing a child.
Buck was born to save. He’s just not too good at much else.
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blue skies by spaceprincessem (@spaceprincessem)
36k | Teen
“Most babies are born as accidents,” She says suddenly, like she’s decided that Buck has passed, that she can trust him with this.
Buck doesn’t really have an answer because that question hits way to fucking close to home. A year or so ago he would have said, yes, I was an accident, so I know how that goes, but Buck knows better now. Knows that he would almost give anything for that answer to still be yes. Evie’s finger works under the seal to rip it open, a stack of important looking papers dumping out onto the table in front of her.
“Not me,” she says without looking up as she organizes them into a neat stack, “I was engineered.”
And.
And Buck’s pretty fucking sure a giant, cataclysmic hole has ripped right open, dragging him down to the earth’s core where he vaporizes into dust.
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a leaf falls on loneliness by iimpossible_things
11k | Not Rated
Buck doesn’t think that if he were to say, “I’m in a bad place”, that anyone would turn him away. Really, he doesn’t. The 118 has too many good, kind people for that.
But every time he wants to open his mouth, to say something, to reach out to Eddie or Bobby or Hen or Chim, he hears Eddie yelling, “you’re exhausting.”
—you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting—
So each day he does his job and he laughs and he jokes and he pretends he’s the care-free goofball he’s always been. And each day he packs away his bruises and his worries, takes them home to his empty loft with its quiet rooms, and licks his wounds in silence
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this is me trying (at least i'm trying) by screaminghalfpastmidnight (@screaminghalfpastmidnight)
15k | Teen
Buck nods against his pillow, remaining silent before Eddie whispers, “Do I have to be worried about you?”
“No.” Buck mumbles. “I’ll be back at work on Thursday. I just needed a day.”
“Do you promise?” Eddie says, and Buck knows he’s not referring to his comment about work.
“Promise.” You don’t have to be worried about me.
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burn the straw house down by rarakiplin (@hoediaz)
40k | Mature
“Why the fuck are you even in this loop? This day isn’t about you.”
“Well, I die,” Eddie comments idly, not sounding as offended as he maybe should be. “Haven’t you heard? I’m always dying.”
“That’s not funny.”
Eddie shrugs, not really agreeing or disagreeing. It’s a few seconds before he says, eyes still closed, “Maybe I’m here so you’re not alone.”
-
or, buck gets stuck in time, has a break down and then, relatedly, a break through
#Fics I love#Buddie#Eddie Diaz#Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley#Evan Buckley#911onfox#911 fan fiction#buddiefanfiction#buddie fic#911#911 fox#breakdown buck#tb2a answers
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Quincy and the forest giant part 10
hey, I got this one out a lot sooner than expected! I might try to work on a new story or maybe some one offs between this chapter and the next one. Anyways, this part is a bit more in depth than the last one. Hope you enjoy it! Critism is appreciated! (Sorry I forgot to say that last time)
previous part:
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I’ve never understood why in movies and cartoons, whenever one character was tiny and another character was big, they had the smaller character sitting on the bigger one's shoulder. I always thought that it would be too easy for the smaller person to fall off from there. When people have parrots and other birds on their shoulders, it makes sense, because the bird is holding on with its talons. But with a person, they’re not really hanging onto anything, they're just balancing, and they somehow don’t fall off. If they had to hang onto something, it would probably be the ear, which would be painful for the bigger character. I never realized why those shows always did that until Ella took me for a walk that day. She had me cupped in her hand while she was walking through the forest. Her elbows were bent so I was upright in her hands. After a while, she started carrying me in one hand against her chest while she put her other hand down, and she switched hands a few times, which was a bit disorienting for me. I figured out her arms were getting tired in that position, so I decided to say something when she switched again,
“Um…hey, Ella?” I said,
“Hmm?” The giant looked down at me, “oh, sorry kid, I know changing my hands can be a bit much,”
“Uh…it's fine…hey, do you want to, like, hold me in a different way?” I asked.
“What other way?” she asked, “this is the most comfortable way I can hold you without you dropping 40 feet,”
“Well…it doesn’t seem too comfortable…” I said, rubbing the back of my neck.
“Comfortable for you I mean,” Ella said. “Would you rather I have you in a fist around your neck again?”
“Um…no,” I said, “uh…how about…I dunno, your shoulder?” I suggested.
“You’d fall in seconds.” Ella said dryly.
“Um…your pocket?” I asked,
“You wouldn’t be able to seeQuincy. That would defeat the whole purpose of going on a hike.” Ella said. “My pockets are too deep for you to see over…do you want to know what's in my pockets?��
“Um, No?” I said, in a mixture of scared and genuinely confused.
“Good.” Ella said, continuing to walk.
“Um…do you have any ideas?” I asked.
“Hmm…” she sighed, “your too small to walk beside me, obviously,” she said, “maybe…sigh no,”
“Um…what?” I asked,
“Nothing..” she said, starting to murmur something to herself about “me being too young.”, I couldn’t fully make it out. She sighed again. “Maybe we should rest for a second, how does that sound?”
“Yeah…that sounds fine,” I said. Ella looked around, before slowly lowering herself to the ground, which was covered in leaves and plants, some flattened by giant footprints, supposedly from Ella stepping on them before. She sat with one leg outwards and the other bent towards it. She placed me on the ground on her right side, next to the bent leg, and leaned back with both her arms behind her. I looked around at the forest we were in. The trees were even larger than the 60 foot giant looming over me, their leaves were massive and completely blocked out the sun. The floor of the woods was covered in bushes and shrubs and flowers that took whatever light did seep through the leaves of the trees. Next to me was a foot print the size of a small car where the plant life was completely flattened. It was Ellas footprint, but it wasn’t somewhere she stepped before. I looked up at her.
“Um…do you come to this part of the forest often?” I asked.
“Yeah…part of my job,” the giant said.
“Oh yeah….your job…” I said, looking down. “Um….is it ok if I…ask now….um, what your job is?”
“I told you, I’ll tell you when I’m ready to,” Ella said,
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I rubbed the back of my head, “um…but….I’m just wondering if you can, uh, just tell me what you do,”
“What do I do?” Ella asked.
“Yeah…uh, you don’t have to tell me how your a giant or anything about the company, or Derrick, or anything like that…I just want to know what you do, that's all..,”
“Hmm…alright then,” the giant sighed, “I’m only telling you because they apparently want me to adopt you, or whatever,” she closed her eyes and sighed again, before looking forward and away from me. “I walk around the forest…and make sure everything is…” she waved her hand in the air as if trying to think of what to say, “normal” she finally said, with air quotes.
“N-normal?” I asked.
“Not normal like, normal, normal like, the way things are supposed to be,” Ella said.
“Um….ok…um, like what?” I asked, tilting my head. She looked down at me.
“That's harder to explain without getting into…y’know,” Ella sighed again, changing her legs to be crisscrossed. She then held out her hand to me. I looked at it for a moment, confused as if we were going to continue walking or not, before climbing onto her palm. Ella stayed on the ground, lifting me upwards to a tree. My gut felt weird being lifted like that, I thought that I would be used to it by now.
“Do you see these trees?” Ella asked. I looked at the tree in front of me. It was thick and wide, much more dense than a normal tree, but not as much as say a red wood. The trunk was brown, and the leaves were much bigger, they seemed like normal leaves, but they were almost a foot long.
“Y-yeah…what about it…?” I asked.
“These are oak trees, Quincy.” the giant holding me said. “They're the kind of tree your townspeople chop down.”
“But…they're so big…” I said, “...trees from centuries ago don’t get this big…at least as far as I know,”
“That's the work of the company.” Ella said. “Its experimental, these are the only trees in the world being grown like this. Since its experimental, there are some worries from the company about these modified trees affecting the animals, or their existence being found out to the public and other companies try doing the same thing,”
“So…you make sure those things don’t happen?” I asked.
“If an animal mutates or whatever, which never happens, I’m supposed to give it to the company for testing, and if a human is found out here, I’m supposed to take them so that no one finds out about what the company’s doing.” Ella said. “So, yeah, I just walk around and make sure those things…don’t happen,” she shrugged.
“So, you're their security?” I asked,
“That's a way of putting it,” she said dryly. She looked down at herself for a moment, almost seeming sad about something. I looked up at her and patted hand a bit, I don’t know if she felt it or not, she didn’t have a reaction. I looked down for a moment, before backing up and looking up at her.
“So, uh, they were worried about the big trees making…big animals?” I asked,
“Yeah…they never did though, at least as far as I can tell,” Ella said.
“Did they make you big…in the same way?” I asked sheepishly, looking down slightly. Ella turned her head towards me and sighed. She was silent for a moment.
“It's a bit more complicated than that…” she said, before she got on her knees. I could tell she didn’t want to talk about this anymore. She looked forward. “Come on, let's start heading back, I should start making lunch for us,” the giant said, still holding me as she stood up.
“Yeah….um…how does…uh, venison…taste anyways?” I asked.
“You’ll see,” Ella said, her footsteps vibrating the ground as she walked with me in her hands. She was looking straight forward as she walked. I looked up at her face. She seemed like she was thinking of something, something that was bothering her. She was passively sad, looking forward with her mouth frowned and her eyes a bit droopy and tired looking. I patted her thumb again.
“Hey…um, are you ok?” I asked, looking up at her. Her eyes widened a bit as she glanced down at me.
“...what do you mean?” she asked, seeming genuinely confused.
“Um…you seem..down about something,” I said, rubbing the back of my head. Ella’s eyes shifted to her side for a moment. They flickered slightly in thought.
“Um…yeah, it's just sort of…been a lot happening lately,” the giant said, “usually things are a lot more..uneventful out here,”
“um…I know what you mean,” I said, “but I meant…well…you seem…sad….”
“It's nothing,” Ella sighed.
“Um..it's ok…” I said sheepishly, “if you're sad…I just…if you want to talk about it ... .or anything…” Ella sighed again, interrupting me. She let out a slight smile, that was clearly just meant to make me feel better.
“It's fine, Quincy. You don’t have to feel bad for me,” She said, rubbing my back a bit with her finger, “honestly…I probably deserve this, anyways,”
“Ella…don’t say that…” Said, touching her thumb again.
“Its alright Quincy, you don’t know…” she said, sighing again. “I’ll tell you everything soon…tonight…I’ll tell you everything tonight…make sure to hold me by that, ok?” she said, tilting her head. I paused for a moment.
“...ok,” I said, looking down, “...you really don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to…”
“It's fine Quincy,” she said, rubbing my back again, “you should know…you deserve to know…”
And then she kept walking.
#g/t#gt community#giant tiny#giant/tiny#g/t community#sfw g/t#g/t writing#gianttiny#gt writing#giantess sfw#sfw giantess#sfw gt#giant and tiny#giant#giant tiny community#giant tiny writing
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Do you have any TWOW predictions for sansa's arc?
Thank you for this question! I didn't really before you asked because it's always seemed so complicated to try to unravel. This ask inspired me, though, so I've spent the last two nights trying to work out my thoughts.
i will invoke the old adage here: it took me so long to answer this because I wanted to write you a shorter response. ...Believe it or not this is the short version, I could have written you a longer one. If there's interest, I might post my complete thoughts later.
To start, I think that Harry the Heir will die inconveniently early to punish Petyr in the narrative for committing too hard to killing Sweetrobin.
I do think Sansa will play a major role in taking down Petyr, but it really has to be his own dominos that she simply manages to push over. The Ghost of High Heart prophecy foretells her slaying a giant in a castle of snow, and I think that might be both LF in the Vale and Tyrion in Winterfell. Somehow (we'll get to that).
I even wonder whether Sansa is already plotting LF's downfall. I love this post that points out how Sansa outsmarted Tyrion by playing her "role" so well, and it makes me second-guess how much of "Alayne" is truly her abused self-image and how much is her fully playing the role for Petyr's benefit. There's a passage in the Alayne TWOW chapter where she wonders if Lyn is really Baelish's man, and I wonder: is it Alayne wondering that out of concern, or is it Sansa identifying a potential future ally to nudge along? Is she perhaps already nudging him against LF in that chapter?
Ultimately, Sansa's story is all about stories and songs, which is one of the major ideas in ASOIAF; the fact that her journey is constantly juxtaposed against that central theme makes hers one of the essential journeys of the story. My interpretation is that her first trials were where she believed she belonged in a different type of fantasy story, and now she's discovered that she's been a part of someone else's fairy tale—Petyr's—for longer than she realized.
I don't believe that Sansa's ultimate lesson will be that life is not a song, I think Petyr is both hypocritical and wrong in saying so. I think that her lesson is to learn that life can be a song when she sings it for herself, rather than playing the "pretty talking bird" singing the songs she expected to be in, or that she expects others want to hear.
To that end, I think she has to be pulled away from Petyr for her final trial. I think Shadrich is going to successfully steal Sansa away before any of Petyr's larger plans go into effect, so that we only get to see the groundwork being laid from Sansa's POV and then we have to hear about it all coming to fruition from afar. I tend towards the idea that Shadrich is more of a vehicle for Sansa's story than major player, though, so I'm hoping that she gets some actual agency once he takes her out of the Vale.
My no.1 hope for Sansa in TWOW is for her to find a way to achieve actual agency, and I can't see her managing effectively under Petyr. I don't think she's had her "Meeting with the Goddess" moment yet, I tend to think she'll have that moment on the road somehow.
I don't think it's for nothing that Shadrich's professed goal is doomed, because Varys is no longer around to pay the ransom. I also think KL itself is doomed and will be embroiled in war and/or plague when they arrive (if they even make it that far), so I think it's possible we get a brief moment that mirrors the Hound's and Arya's loss of purpose after the RW. KL will be empty of reward for Shadrich, and for Sansa it will be lost in this moment of bittersweet catharsis that represents both the loss of her original dreams and of her prison. The two are also one, in a way, considering that she was trapping herself from the start with her desire to force her life into a song rather than find the songs within life. This is potentially when the "Meeting with the Goddess" moment happens, although I don't know with who.
I think that it would be narratively satisfying for Sansa to then return (of her own accord, maybe? somehow) and confront Petyr as her faux-father-villain in an antagonistic twist on the "Atonement with the Father" moment where she realizes that Petyr's been the cause of so many of her problems, and the problems of her real parents, both lost now. Maybe Sweetrobin plays a role in this because his Weirwood throne should symbolically connect Sansa to the Old Gods again, and her spiritual return to her roots. Hopefully she sees how Petyr has been living in a fantasy world and putting her there too.
I think perhaps Lyn Corbray plays a big role in this, which is why Sansa noticed his uncertain loyalties. Certainly, the remaining Lords Declarant will be on her side, because Petyr's setting up a plotline where he extorts inflated prices for grain, so Sansa's role in deposing him will earn her the love of the Vale. "she had always heard that love was a surer route to the people's loyalty than fear. If I am ever a queen, I'll make them love me."
Her Apotheosis, I think, will be finally getting agency and freedom from Littlefinger, and her Ultimate Boon might be Winterfell/The Vale itself, somehow, as hers rather than as Littlefinger's. More spiritually I think her Ultimate Boon will be her idealism and hope—which she has always had—separated from the constraints of preconceived songs but never lost. This mirrors how her internal world has separated so vastly from her external world playing "roles" for the people around her. I think her unyielding ideals, though, that those songs represented, will be an invaluable trait in the oncoming doom awaiting Westeros.
Finally... Sansa has never forgotten that she's still married, though, and neither should we—and I think the final irony in TWOW will be the return of her husband, Tyrion, who will come back to Westeros with the means to make good on his promise "to reduce the Vale of Arryn to a smoking wasteland." I think it's possible that Dany's landing in Westeros will mirror the Andal's arrival, landing in the Vale first—she also brings a train of refugees who follow her like a Messiah. When they land, I think Tyrion will urge extreme violence, also mirroring the Andal invasion.
After that, though, I think we probably cut to ADOS. I don't want to figure out the logistics of getting Sansa back to Winterfell (with Tyrion?) but I don't think it will happen in TWOW anyway.
That's my full prediction for Sansa in TWOW. tbh I hope she gets a lot of chapters, there were so few in AFFC.
#twow speculation#twow chapter reference#ask the red temple#look into the flames#<-one of those is going to be the ask tag but i can't decide#petyr baelish#littlefinger#valyrianscrolls#asoiaf meta#jozor thoughts
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i think buddy should win the problem girl tournament going on at @problemgirlbracket
my reasoning:
lisa the painful + joyful spoilers below lol
she deserves it!! she has been through absolute hell due to being the last living female left in a place full of ppl who want to use her for repopulation
she's badass!! she's a literal child who is proficient in stabbing the fuck out of grown men with her sword. she has had a body part cut off and didnt even utter a sound during it. she has grabbed barbed wire holding up the entire weight of a fully grown man.
she's fucked up!! she literally slaughters an entire town of pacifists, even the ones that refuse to defend themselves and is addicted to drugs and murder.
she's got her priorities set!! she literally makes a giant hitlist including some of the most powerful men in the land so she can kill them in hopes of showing everyone that she's da biggest bird. yeah. good for her.
she has daddy issues!! dont you just love when people try avoid becoming the monster their parent was but end up becoming a totally different monster to their own child? no? me neither :'[
she's lonely.. everyone she has ever trusted is dead or no longer human.
her name is funny to me tbh, a mass murderer named buddy... rofl
SHE USED TO BE A BEAN 🫘
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@full-of-mercy
“Meryl!?”
Milly’s voice is drowned out by the rushing wind that’s beating against her as she urges her toma to go faster, the fowl beast of burden squawking as it feels small heels dig into its flanks while it navigates the dips of the sand dunes.
“Meryl, please wait! Slow down!”
Milly is closer now, almost caught up, though Meryl doesn’t look behind her when she can hear another set of galloping toma feet pound the sand, nor when she can just barely make out the edges of her junior’s cloak as it, too, flutters in the wind. “Meryl, please, we don’t know—”
Meryl, for the first time since leaving Wolfwood’s grave, stops and grips the reins and turns her toma around. In the light of the moons that are shining down upon Noman’s Land, there are tears in her eyes, though she’s not uttered a single sound.
There was nothing but a yawning grave, a chrysalis of some kind, and the Punisher was gone.
The place where Vash had buried Wolfwood was empty.
Milly’s brow furrows as she takes in the appearance of her senpai, feeling at a total loss of what to do or say. Brad had told her Wolfwood had gone on a journey and she knew what he meant by that—knew because whenever someone she knew passed, she would have been told the exact same words or something similar. Maybe as a child it hadn’t dawned on her, not yet, but as she got older and she could clearly see the sadness in people’s faces, well…
Right now, Meryl is expressing a gamut of emotions though Milly can see how hard she’s trying to stay strong, to keep a level head.
Meryl, for her part, hasn’t been able to fully overcome what she had witnessed through that residual touch of telepathy when she’d been trapped in that lift. She’d not told anyone about it, carried it all by herself because she thought she was strong enough to handle the fallout and pick up the pieces of her life, continue her work thinking that staying occupied would help—it hadn’t, and it all accumulated to that point when she sat over a prone Vash, begging for him to come back, begging for him to realize he didn’t have to do this alone.
Seeing the grave Wolfwood was buried in empty, yawning and filled with substances that resembled something like feathers—it had truly felt like the final straw to break the toma’s back.
“No, we don’t know! We don’t know anything but we need to!” She can hear the frantic edge in her voice and it makes her inwardly wince because she never meant to yell at Milly. “We visited his grave and he was buried. We saw the mound of earth, the Punisher as a marker, right?!”
The reins she’s holding are pulled again, this time directing her toma to where they’d been heading before this. “I need to know what happened, Milly. We need to find Vash—he needs to know.” She gives both a click of her tongue and a soft kick to the toma’s flank once more and the giant bird resumes its course, navigating the sand dunes at night with ease.
She’s thankful that Milly can’t see her, because the tears are streaming down her face freely now. Meryl doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t call back, just looks ahead. At least with this, there is a purpose she can focus on rather than let her mind wander to places it doesn’t want to go.
But even with such focus, Meryl knows they can’t continue on like this without exhaustion catching up to them. Before long, the toma will need food, water and rest, and so will she and Milly.
“Meryl, I think there’s a small town up ahead. Maybe we can stop there for a bit before continuing on?”
She catches the hopefulness in Milly’s voice and knows that it would be in their best interest to make that stop. She’s lost the number of hours they’d been riding through the desert since leaving Wolfwood’s grave—the image of it being empty save for whatever residue and feathers left behind is branded into her mind and she can see it clearly whether her eyes are open or not. A sense of fear and dread had come over her when she stood near it, feeling like she could fall in and be lost forever.
The lights up ahead shake those thoughts from her head. Their soft and dull orange glow makes her think of lighthouses leading ships to shore from an endless sea, or ports in a raging storm. Either way, she follows them with a ferver as it makes her think there’s safety to be had there once they’re within the city’s limits. It’s by no means bustling like one of the seven cities, but there’s enough to see that it’s well off to suit everyone’s needs. She misses the sign of which city this is as her toma slows down to a more leisure pace but there is still an edge to its rider as she navigates the streets to a building that has the words Saloon & Inn painted on the sign out front.
Their toma are taken into the stable on the side and Milly, thankfully, is the one who goes up to the counter to request a room with two beds. Meryl overhears her asking about food and she can feel Milly’s gaze upon her, but Meryl is too focused on gazing out at those who are still awake and present at this late hour.
It’s not packed, though she’s no stranger to seeing saloons occupied this late, patrons still dining and drinking until Last Call is announced.
“Last Call!”
Seems they made it just in time. “We’re upstairs,” she hears Milly at her side and Meryl turns. “They didn’t have one room with two beds left, so we each have one room to ourselves. We might need to consider taking on part-time work because our funds are running a bit low…”
“Okay, thanks Milly.” She’s since turned back to continue looking at the patrons in the sitting area. Something isn’t right…
“Here, the key to your room. I ordered us breakfast for the morning, so don’t forget okay?” Meryl can only nod as she hears receding footsteps. Then, Meryl feels a sensation overcome her, similar to when she’d been dealing with the fallout of those events on her own—like it’s become harder to breathe, though she makes no move to grip at her chest like she had once done, but there is that sensation of cold sweat forming.
And the feeling of being watched.
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Deastra X Heimdall - Song quote
"Love's gonna get you killed, but pride is gonna be the death of you and you and me. (and you and you and you and me) - PRIDE. , Kendrick Lamar
Message: No warnings, chill fic. Testing the waters with this one. Deastra is the OC I made for GOW x reader fics, I linked the character info sheet below.
//
Word Count: 1.8k ish
Vibes While Writing: ultimate sped-up playlist for actual hot ppl
//
-> Deastra / y/n character info if something is confusing: https://www.tumblr.com/tia-00l/736839705205817344/deastra-gow-oc?source=share
//
Heimdalls" POV
Again, she's waiting by the hallway, waiting for her "giant" brother to finish with the All-father, my father. Never does she move, and yet I'm still required to watch her even though any of these drunken dim-witted gods could handle her easily. But no, Father insists that I watch her, for the sake of keeping her out of the business he has with that weird boy. So, for another reckless and loud night in the Mess Hall, I pretend to read one of Bragi's many scriptures while endlessly watching this fake god, and my gaze never falters.
"Hail ye jerk!" Oh, what is it now? I hiss to myself. An Aesir who's drunk out of their mind approaches me. "Might I ask what made the All-Father's son such a pain in everyone's ass!" He starts to slug towards me, and I move out of the way while grabbing his face and throwing him in the other direction. The drunk bumps into more drunks and now they're all fighting each other. I scoff and look back to the fake god. "..." Oh shit, where did she go?
Deastra's POV
"And thanks to that lovely drunken Aesir, I smoothly escaped that puppy's gaze." Ever since we arrived in Asgard, I realized that I never fully explored this new realm. I stretch out my arms to the sky, Tonight is the night I fully explore. I look around and wonder where I am. "Oh shoot," I think to myself. I am a bit lost. This Asgardian city isn't too hard to navigate, but I can't help but find this place repetitive to look at. The only thing that really catches my attention is what's beyond those walls. So that is where I'll go. Except I don't know how to get back to the lift, I used my shadow jump a bit too much and ended up in a random shadow beside someone's house.
"KRAA!" A sound of birds catches my attention and I look up. I see a murder of crows resting on top of a house. "Maybe I should do the same as them," I say to myself. Without voicing another thought I shadow jump to the roof of that house disturbing the crows and they fly away. "Maybe I should've chosen another roof," I whisper while looking around for the wall's lift. I squat down and look through a circle made with my fingers. I find it aaannndd I need to get close to the Mess Hall again. That's going to be a problem for me, the poor pup probably noticed I'm gone already. Sigh, I hope the murder scattering wasn't too obvious.
"Oooh it was quite obvious, Sunshine." I look up and see Heimdall towering over me. "Oh shit, how nice to see you here." I grin at Heimdall and he replies with a neverending glare. His face shows slight confusion and annoyance, am I thinking of something weird? Well, I am happy to see him, I just realized I can get him to be my guide.
"Since you're here already-", "No" Heimdall hisses. "I didn't even finish what I was going to say!" "You didn't need to," Heimdall crosses his arms and his glare intensifies. I stand up and avert my gaze from his. I can't help but be nervous. Maybe I should make a run for the lift right now? Can he stop me? Probably. "Don't bother running, you won't make it." Heimdall cocks his head. "How do you know that?" I jokingly say still avoiding his gaze. Oh wait, he has foresight, wait, does he read minds or intent? I forget. I should be more attentive around here.
"Does half of your brain not work?" Heimdall suddenly spits. "Don't think I trust you or think of you as a docile being to the All-Father. It's just what you say is literally what you think, and there's no ill intent." Heimdall steps closer to me and leans towards me. "What really goes on in that brain of yours?" His hand grabs my jaw and makes me face him. Our eyes interlock and he glares into my eyes once more.
I grow uneasy, not from the lack of distance between us, but the lack of awareness I have of his abilities. How far can he see in my mind? He scoffs and pulls his hand from my face. He steps back and turns his back to me.
"Tell me, do you see yourself as the unwanted child in your family." Heimdall looks back at me with a stupid grin on his face. "With what I saw, I can certainly confirm it." I wince at his comment. Never have I doubted the bond I have with my family, but the thought of being unwanted is something I can't get rid of, no matter how silly it might be. Father and Atreus have grown closer throughout the years, and their bond is special. Never have they done anything to make me think ill of my position as their family, it's just a thought that intrudes my peace at times. I notice that Heimdall has turned back to me and his expression is filled with amusement. He sees deeper in my mind than I can realize, rather, he sees the layer of my thoughts that I choose to reject.
"Quit it," I say. "Haha, no, I don't think I will." His grin widens. "Kratos thinks of you as a constant reminder of his past. YOU were there with him in that other world." Heimdall draws closer to me again and bends down to meet my face with his. His eyes pierce mine. "And I suppose it doesn't help that his regrets with his old family resurface with your presence." Heimdall tilts his head, not breaking eye contact. "Your so-called father will never feel for you as deeply as he does for that boy, and you know that." Heimdall stands back to his full height and peers down at me.
I smile back at the god before me. Sure, what he said bothered me for a moment and I began to feel bad for myself again. But what he said was only things that I've thought before. To add, those are my thoughts, not the truth. "I will admit that revelation of yours did hurt to hear," I say while I place my hand on my chest. "But at least if how I felt was true, I wouldn't turn into this realm's greatest jerk." My smile widens and I shadow-jump to an open field that headed towards the lift up the wall. Heimdall most likely saw this coming as he arrived there shortly after I jumped.
"Oh please, what did you mean by that?" Heimdall coos. "I am the Herald of Ragnarok, I am the one he seeks council within nearly every situation!" He continues to spaz about the many feats that would make him feel that Odin loved him truly as his son. "Out of all my brothers, I am the most competent and smartest!" I started to dull out his voice in my head, which was something he noticed right away and did not like.
Heimdall's hand pulls my shoulder making me spin around and face him. I've been in his situation with Kratos when his revenge was his sole priority. I've been with Kratos when he regretted his actions and I did begin to remind him of all his pains. I was in Heimdall's position of having a father who had no true want for you. Although, after he granted my life once more, he gave me his blood and even Faye's as a way of becoming their child, he changed and I was no longer unwanted. Even with Atreus's birth, I was never treated any differently. So thinking I was unwanted in my family is only a pain from the past that still haunts me.
"You know nothing of my intent or the feelings my father has for me!" Heimdall's voice is seething with annoyance. Did he read my monologue just now? The god's face twists. "I do the All-Father's bidding because I must protect Asgard and him. I don't do this because I'm trying to gain his attention like a needy mutt." That's not at all what I thought, did that slip from his mind?
"I may not have the same ability to read intent and thoughts as you, but I can read people to an extent." This time I step closer to the Aesir god in front of me and rest my hands on my hips. "The twisted, disgusting, despicable, and ruthless feelings that old man has towards his sons are vile. He treated Atreus much better than he probably ever did to you and your brothers right?" Heimdall's eyes twitch. "I don't have any ill intent towards anyone here just yet, because the ones I do have issues with are dead, and I frankly don't want any more bloodshed. To be completely honest with you, I pity the hell out of you, and you probably hate that." Heimdall steps closer to me, his eyes dark. "Don't speak another word." I back off once he says this, I don't mean to anger the people of this realm, let alone Odin's most favored tool.
I'm sure this ass in front of me is capable of love. Except the only thing he does love is maybe that Gulltopr thing and Odin. His familial love for Odin will never be reciprocated. I hate how much I relate to this thing. I can't help to think about it either.
"Do not believe that we are similar in any way." He hisses. "Being tasked to watch you has proven to be a pain. You've only been here for one day and I have grown to feel sick of you." Heimdall turns towards the Mess Hall. "You are a rare truthful but infuriating being that I no longer want to deal with. I can truly see there is no actual threat to you being here, so I don't need to bother with you right now." Heimdall storms off. Before he leaves, I can't help but blurt one last thing.
"HEY!" I shout out.
Surprisingly he stops in his tracks. "Your love for Odin is gonna get you killed, but pride is gonna be the death of you and me." Heimdall turns his head to me, his face filled with annoyance. "And what do you mean by that?" My mind is blank, I don't know, I just said it. "No idea actually, don't dwell too much on it golden boy," I say to him with the intent of peacefully ending what feud we just had. I recall what I was doing, going to the wall. I begin to trek to the lift once more, forgetting about Heimdall who hasn't looked away from me. The gods of this realm are much more tolerable than the ones I knew in my previous existence. I genuinely hope to co-exist with these gods, even Heimdall.
//
Note: Do y'all like it if I color code who talks? Or only if I do it partially.
#x reader#god x reader#gow ragnarok#gow oc#newwriter#heimdall#heimdall x reader#heimdall x oc#fanfic#heimdall imagine
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Cob's First Pool Trip, A Bird, and Meeting Sam Part 2
Hazel worries Cob antagonizes Ben.
Content: Adult themes and language, verbal trans abuse and the proper response, fear, near death, danger, terror, panic attacks, and first meetings.
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"HOLY SHIT!" was the first thing out of Cob's mouth as they stared up at Ben's face.
Hazel's quick reprimand followed, but Cob went on. "Was his mom a fucking tree? Do you see the size of him?! I didn't know they came this big! Did you?!" Cob gestured at Ben as if he couldn't hear them speaking excitedly to Hazel.
Ben started to blush and Hazel was worried he was getting uncomfortable. "Apologize to him." She demanded to Cob. "For what?! He doesn't know he's the biggest human ever?!" Cob cried out. "He probably can't even hear me from up there..." Hazel started slapping her younger sibling's arm looking very pissed off.
Then Cob started running from her in circles to avoid more slaps. This was getting out of hand and Ben felt bad for Cob. Something about it coming from somebody that small didn’t seem to bother him as much as if it was from a person. Maybe it was just how Cob said it, but Ben thought it was kind of funny. He bent down to talk and calm Hazel down. "Hazel it's ok, it doesn't bother me. And I can hear you. You kind of...yelled all that." Ben said with a smile.
Cob jumped a little as Ben talked so close. He mouthed to Hazel silently Did he make you shake just now too?
Hazel rolled her eyes, but nodded at Cob. "Not all the time, just if he is close enough." Hazel explained about the sheer force of Ben's voice. "Close enough for what?" Ben asked confused and unable to follow what Hazel and her sibling were talking about.
Cob started laughing. It became a giggle. "Do it again!" Cob yelled up at Ben. "Do what again?" Ben asked dumbfounded sending Cob into another giggle. "Hazel did I do something wrong or?" Ben asked her, stopping as he noticed that Cob giggled the longer Ben spoke and did a kind of weird dancey movement at the same time. "Not at all Ben. My sibling is apparently about 10 human years old." Hazel said frustrated at Cob, she had wanted them to make a good impression on Ben.
He wasn't even supposed to know about them, but she trusted him and wanted to make sure he knew about Cob in case they needed help sometime in the building when she wasn't around for some reason. "They're only 10?" Ben asked confused sending Cob into another fit. Hazel sighed saying "No...I will explain later," while pinching the bridge of her nose like she was getting a headache.
Ben nodded.
Cob let out a very disappointed, "Awww."
They were hoping for more rumble producing talk from the giant human. To show there were no hard feelings, Ben offered Cob whatever food they wanted. Despite Hazel's protests, Ben happily insisted that they take an entire lunchbox snack bag of miniature cookies that Ben would sometimes mix into his popcorn.
Cob was convinced between Ben's size and so many cookies they must be dreaming. They looked suspiciously around for anyone they knew was dead without mentioning it to Ben or Hazel. Then Ben took them on a tour of the building to help the pair suss out how the space was organized and fit together so they could make passageways and cutouts. Ben couldn't walk on crutches and carry them, and Hazel said they shouldn't be out in the open anyway. They decided on watching from Ben's old basketball drawstring on his back. Hazel first suggested a shirt with pockets but Ben didn't have one. The one shirt he did have with a pocket was a dress shirt he wore for a team photo.
But to Ben’s surprise the shirt didn’t fit him anymore.
As they finished going through all of the floors and common areas, Cob insisted they see the pool only having heard of them before. This was despite the temperature outside as winter was setting in now. But by the time managed to get to the pool, Cob was fully asleep in a food coma.
They were tucked into the bottom of Ben's bag. He had crumpled up a towel and put it on the bottom to create some padding for the pair. Cob started snoring.
Ben was laying on one of the pool's chaise lounge on his back. He was far too tall for it. He had one leg bent to the side and his leg still in a cast laying out on another. Most of it was dangling in the air.
Ben had carefully slipped the bag with Cob asleep underneath him on the concrete. Hazel was standing on top of Ben’s hooded sweatshirt, his stomach below the thick fleece. Ben's hands were partially tucked in on either side of her trying to lift up the fabric to shield her from the cold. "You're warm enough?" He asked down at her.
***
End Part 2
#g/t#g/t community#g/t writing#g/t fluff#borrowers#giant tiny#gentle giant#giant/tiny#giant/tiny community#giant/tiny writing
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The Magical Menagerie
This is an excerpt from the fic I'm working on. It's the scene where Hermione adopts Crookshakes at the start of PoA.
Walking into the pet shop, Hermione wasn't sure which of her senses were assaulted first. Between the smell of animals mixed with hay, feed, and that underlying poo scent, combined with the added considerable amount of pure noise coming from what felt like every cage, it was definitely a tie between hearing and smell. Although now that her eyes were adjusting to the dimmer lighting in the shop from the bright day outside, she noticed that every space seemed crammed with stuff. Be it animal cages, or shelving containing books and care items.
Hermione looked to the left to see a giant tortus with what appeared to be gems growing out of its shell at the front of a hall, leading to the reptiles, amphibians, and fish? Water animals? She was sure she just spotted a grindylow in the back, but wasn't sure what she would clarify them as. To her right were the Owls and other avians. She saw ravens, wildly tropical birds with bright plumage, but was quickly distracted when she heard a perfect replication of the shop woman's voice coming from a small, plain brown bird in a gold cage close to the checkout where Ron and Harry had gathered to talk to the shopkeep. In front of the shopkeeper, shiny black rats were taking turns examining Scabbers and playing jump rope with their tails. Scabbers was on the counter being examined by the shopkeep and having his honour defended by Ron.
Hermione felt the pull to look up in the corner of the tills enclave before she heard the curious "mrow?" and then the threatening growl of what may have been the largest orange fluff Hermione had ever seen. Before she had time to fully process the situation, the giant cat had lept off a bookcase it had been using as its perch and onto the counter, trying to swat at Scabbers. Scabbers, on high alert, managed to scramble off the counter, landing on the floor with a little splat sound. With a little jump and shaking himself off, Scabbers was up and out the door, Ron behind him, and Harry following. Hermione looked back to see the most gorgeous cat she had ever seen clean its paw in such a regal way while thoroughly ignoring the scolding he was getting from the shop woman.
"Bad Crookshanks! That is a naughty kitty thing to do! This is why no one wants to adopt you." The shopkeep had started tidying the spilt stationery and small shiny items previously displayed on the checkout counter that every shop, everywhere was obligated to be placed by the till. Hermione rushed up before the woman could walk off to the back, needing to know more about this majestic man.
"Excuse me," Hermionie inquired in her most polite voice. "What do you mean by no one wants to adopt him?" She couldn't help herself; her hand had made its way to the cat to inspect before he butted his smooshed head against her palm and allowed her to scritch behind his ears. The woman turned around, putting some knickknacks in her apron pockets. Looking over at Hermione, she then blinked a few times to fully make sure she understood what she was looking at. She walked forward slowly, as if not to dispel whatever magic was at work to suddenly change the Ginger Grump into this snuggle rug.
"As you saw earlier, he's never gotten on well with others. At best, most can hope for indifference from him, but, well, you just saw some of his worst. He can be downright vicious when he wants to be." The shop keeps rolling up her sleeves at the end of this to show the deep scratches running from wrist to elbow on one of her arms. "Being part Kneezle, he has quite strong magical traits like being able to sense people's intentions or finding things that may be obscured by magic. However, I think his scenes are a little off as he's never helped me find anything and is regularly unsociable."
Hermionie, at this point, nearly had her arms full of thick orange fur, giving Crookshakes the most thorough, full-body scratch he had had in a long time.
"How long has he been here for?" Hermione asked a little dreamily. The shopkeeper had to think about it for a moment, going so far as to scratch her chin, which Hermione would have found amusing if she weren't so completely taken with the most handsome ginger boy to ever grace the planet.
"About 10 years or so? Just wondered in one day off the street. He looked like he had been on his own for a while, all skin and bones, took forever to get him to trust me enough to get him cleaned up and presentable. We posted lost pet flyers in the area and even put out an ad in the Daily Prophet, but no one ever came to pick him up. I figured, at this point, he had made himself happy here, and that was good enough. But well." The woman gestured to Crookshakes, who had crawled up and laid his head on Hermione's shoulder, arms sticking string out. He was so long, however, that his bowed back legs were still lazed on the counter, content to be half-held if it meant he could still keep getting pets.
"I'm sorry, did you say 10 years? He doesn't seem to be that old?" Hermione started feeling around his body, but he felt strong, thick muscles under his even thicker coat.
The shop woman laughed. "Like I said dove, he's part kneezle. A kneezle can live up to 50 if properly looked after; depending on breeding and the care he receives, it wouldn't be impossible for this man to get up to 30 or 40."
Hermione's eyes lit up. She was so happy to know that no matter what had happened to this big guy before, she would have plenty of time to love him so much it made up for all the time he spent alone. "I'll take him."
The shopkeep laughed again. "I was hoping you would say that. Because it's Crookshanks, I'll throw in some of his things for free, his favourite bed, some toys I'm convinced he plays with when no one is around, and the food he likes. Of course, you are welcome to buy more items if you want."
Realizing they hadn't even talked about the price of Crookshakes, Hermione suddenly became nervous and a little bashful. Picking up on her discomfort, Crookshakes crawled further into her arms, almost draping himself across her shoulders and burying his head in her large hair. On reflex, Hermione scooped up his butt and carried him like a long, furry baby. "Well. Uhm. You see. I'm ever so grateful for your offer to give me his things. But I only have 10 galleons. Would that happen to be enough for him?"
The shopkeeper was almost a little envious of the treatment this kid was receiving from one of the grumpiest cats she had ever had the pleasure to meet, but deciding she couldn't get in the way of this clear bond made an executive decision.
"You know, Crookshakes only came out to 5 galleons due to us trying to entice someone to take him home. That would allow you to get a bag of these treats, which are his favourite, and maybe this calming collar to put on him, just in case he decides he won't let up with your friend's pet. All together, it'll come to 10 galleons." She made literally no profit on this sale; in fact, she is eating it quite a bit, but she can't help but want things to go well for the big guy and this sweet kiddo.
Hermionie happily handed over the money, took the bag that the witch was kind enough to shrink all of his items down into, with assurances they would resize when taken out of the bag, then took her armful of ginger boy and happily made her way out to Harry and Ron. Maybe it was the excitement of wanting to show them the most majestic man or the blinding love and familiarity she had never felt for any other animal, but she completely forgot that the kitten she was about to show her friends had just tried to eat Ron's own pet.
#my writing#harry potter fanfiction#harry james potter#ron weasley#hermione granger#crookshanks#tell me what you think
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In the Shattering of Things, Ch. 44: Serah Bird
Enter Hawke at last! Let the shenanigans roll!
Chapter Summary: Rose encounters a cheeky stranger at the stables and Varric presents her with a surprise.
Fic Summary: Lady Rose Trevelyan's idle, aristocratic life blinks out in a haze of irrelevance when the breach destroys the Conclave. She may be soft and coddled when she joins the Inquisition, but there's a fierceness inside her she's yet to fully recognize. Armed with only a few relevant skills and the mark that makes her a legend, she is thrust onto a path delivering hope where it’s long been scorched away and finds comfort in the grumpy, handsome stick in the mud charged with her protection and training. As she stumbles her way across southern Thedas, she begins to realize she's tangled at the center of machinations she barely understands, and she's not alone in that. Enter Hawke. Excerpt: “So what brings you to Skyhold?” I ask, always interested in the people who drift our way.
“Door to door knife sales,” he declares with a fetching grin. “Kitchen knives, utility knives, murder knives. I have one that can slice clean through a metal pipe! What do you think about that?” I tilt my head up to raise my eyebrow at him, my amusement emerging at the corner of my mouth as I study his distinctive breastplate and the longsword hitched to his belt. Feeling playful, I respond in kind.
“Take a lot of hits as a knife salesman?”
“All together too many,” he says with a cheeky grin. He scratches his head and continues, “Seriously, though, I’m here for hire. Mercenary work.”
“Is that so?” I ask, curious, setting down Juniper’s hoof and briskly wiping my hands on my breeches.
“Barnabus Bird,” he says, extending a giant hand out to me in greeting. I shake his gloved one firmly and he doesn’t let mine go immediately, his eyes dwelling on me with a glimmer of insolence.
“Quite the name for a mercenary. Memorable,” I tell him as he relinquishes my hand, befuddled by a pronounced sense of deja vu. Perhaps he was in the Red Iron crew that came to claim me. And though I know I should be wary, I feel nothing but easy across from him.
“It is, isn’t it?” he says, pleased with himself. “And your name?”
“Violet,” I improvise, knowing I’m a sitting duck with no one else around.
“And what does Violet do for the Inquisition?” he says as if he knows it’s a made up name.
“I’m— the official Inquisition weather vane adjuster,” I reply, matching the ridiculousness of his initial cover.
“A lot of weather vanes here at Skyhold?”
“You’d be surprised!” I untie Juniper and lead her into her stall, aware of my vulnerability around a hulking mercenary in a quiet stable. Barnabus Bird returns to his horse and continues unloading her, glancing back at me appraisingly.
“That’s an interesting mark for a weather vane adjuster,” he says keenly, pointing at the faint glow in my hand and the pale streaks that climb up my arm. Shit . I’d forgotten about the Anchor. I pull my jerkin on over my filthy shirt and prepare to make my escape from the perceptive gaze of this nosy interloper.
“Of course. It helps me with my adjustments. A blessing from the Maker,” I say with a smile. I head out of the stable and turn around to bid my farewell. “See you around, Serah Bird.”
Read the Chapter Here
Also eternally grateful for @kiastirling-fanfic who proposed "weathervane adjuster" as a faux career for my Inquisitor XD
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