#it posted too soon argh

[g8dess]

˚✩ ⋆｡. 100 Follower Event .｡⋆ ✩˚

Reblog Game : Moodboards

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The poll has spoken! And it has said that I should do a moodboard event! So here we are!

˚✩ ⋆｡.✩ For the next week, until Monday 21 October, you can reblog this post to get a moodboard of your f/o / selfship. I will post them as new posts under the tag #g8dess100followmoodboards and I'll tag your blog in the post. (If for whatever reason you can't reblog, you can always put the info needed in my askbox, just remember to have an emoji to identify yourself with.)

˚✩ ⋆｡.✩ You can reblog multiple times, but make sure you have only one f/o per reblog.

˚✩ ⋆｡.✩ Be sure to include :

• Name,

• Picture,

• Themes (can be anything from colors, nature elements, activities, places, to hobbies, senses, feelings, ...)

• Dynamics between you two / A little info about how they are with you

• I encourage you to ramble in your reblog, the more info the easier it is to pick themes

˚✩ ⋆｡.✩ This reblog game is proship safe

Now for some examples under the cut!!

Vi with the theme Power and red. Oc with theme Angel-Devil, sunrays. Levi with themes Gamer, best friends, Artist, Goldfish, Jellyfish.

Ichimatsu with themes cats and jellyfish, cuddles, desire, being good enough as I am. Shion with themes, dreaming but being awake, cats, cuddles, sunrains, cozy.

Oc with themes nightsky, nebulas, dancing in a rundown castle, in a million lives I chose you. Cove with themes seashells and starlight, waves, sunset/rise, we are growing up together. Kaoru with themes, carnival date, orange roses, dancing in the kitchen, more than friends.

[chuluoyi]

this brainrot is totally bc i’ve been watching house of the dragon and the elusive samurai—🤧

you, a princess, is named the heir of the shogunate since your father the shogun has no living son. it’s a very controversial decision as no female has become a shogun in history—many parties are unhappy with you as the heir apparent

and then life as you know it ends when they throw a coup, depose the shogun and are after your life. you thought you’ll give in and just commit suicide to die a honorable death like your father, until at the last minute, you are saved by a shady priest claiming his eyes can see above and beyond—

gojo satoru looks like a bogus but he is strong, resourceful and apparently is blessed as he is the host for a god. a god amongst men, they dubbed him

and he has sworn his loyalty to you. together, you walk the tedious journey to reclaim your throne . . .

[cubot]

I've been having trouble sleeping lately despite being so tired. And part of it is that I will not fall asleep. Part of it is that when I wake up, I'm up for good. And part of it is executive dysfunction of I cannot get up and go to the bathroom and take my meds and brush my teeth and go to bed.

But because the last part of that is an issue right now, I'm using it to make my body so fucking tired that when I finally get into bed, hopefully I will just pass out within twenty minutes.

[rose-in-blue]

"Any Time, Ma Chère"

Alastor x reader

Warnings/tags: fluff, Alastor being smarmy, afab reader, an aggressive amount of commas and parenthesis, deer kink(?), slightly suggestive, Alastor isn't repulsed by touch at least not from (Y/N), cursing, thoughts in italics, the hotel has a kitchen?

A/n: this is my first time posting fanfic, so please go easy on me, guys! let me know if I made any errors in the comments <3

1176 words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I seriously can’t believe you, Alastor!” you shouted, for what seemed like the hundredth time. 

“I really don’t see the problem here, dear,” he said, slightly more passive aggressive than normal.

You two had been fighting for the last 10 minutes or so, standing in the small kitchen of the Hazbin Hotel. While your fight had started with a simple argument over a slight misunderstanding, soon the gates broke and the flood began— every single thing that Alastor had done that ticked you off just rushed out in a wave that you couldn't seem to stop.

“Argh, you’re just… the… the worst!!” you screamed into his face, lacking better words. 

Alastors eyes narrowed, shit-eating-grin strained slightly, ears flicking back for a brief moment. You barely caught the change in his eyes or smile, but your eyes darted up at the movement from his fluffy, red and black ears.

You’d never admit it, but ever since you’d arrived at the hotel, you’d had a bit of an obsession over the Radio Demon. He was aggravating and full of himself and bitchy and narcissistic, but something about him always seemed to make your heart beat a little faster. Especially his more… deer-like features.

Antlers, ears, (speculated) tail— you were fascinated by it all. All you wanted to do was run your hand up the back of his ears, tangling in his hair, while you lay, gasping, helpless beneath him, completely at his mercy…

You blinked, realizing that you’d been staring for a few moments too long. Alastor noticed, of course. Smiling wider, he decided to have some fun with it.

“Really, darling? In what ways am I…” he flicked his ears backwards, then forwards again, “the worst?”

You blushed, eyes never breaking from his ears. “Uh, well, I… for starters…” you trailed off.

��...Yes, dear? I’m listening.” His left ear flicked to the side.

“Oh, well, you know…” you desperately tried to gain control of the conversation, looking into his eyes again. “You’re incredibly full of yourself.”

“Oh, really, (Y/N)? And you’re so humble?” He grinned impossibly wider, ears flicking in every which way.

“Well, ya know, I…” Get a hold of yourself, (Y/N), you thought, eyes trying to focus on anything else but the demon in front of you. “I’m not an asshole about it.” Fuck, why did you say that?!

Alastor threw his head back and laughed, his ears finally stopping. You pouted, hating to be the butt of whatever sadistic joke you were to him. “Really? Is that what you think of me?” he asked, still laughing.

“I… I mean, I…” What did you mean? Sure, Alastor could be shitty at times, but he seemed to have a soft spot for you… at least, that’s what you thought. You didn’t really know anymore.

He bent at the waist, face drawing closer to yours, and it seemed as if he read your mind. “What did you mean, sweetheart? I’m listening.” His ears shifted back (purposefully, of course– he just loved to see you squirm). That was the final breaking point for you.

“Oh, fuck you, Alastor!” you turned your head away, suddenly very aware that your back was now firmly pressed against the kitchen counter.

“You’re welcome to try, dear.”

HE DID NOT JUST—

You blushed, and your eyes flashed to his instantly, because there was no way in hell that he just said that.

The smirk that played across his face told you that he had indeed just said that.

“I…I…I-I,” you stammered, not quite able to process it. His smirk grew, especially after his ears twitched to the front again and your eyes followed every movement and his eyes followed yours.

Changing the subject (thank Satan), his smile shifted to a kinder one, eyes looking up to where his ears stood, then back at you. "Would you like to touch them, darling?"

You were silent for a moment, taken aback. "What-- I'm sorry?"

You heard him, of course, and he knew that, so he continued. "As long as our little argument is over, that is." He reached down and took your hand, eyes never breaking away from yours. "As much as I love our friendly banter, it hurts me so much to see you so angry at me."

You didn't know what to say for once, so you just let him bring your hand to to the side of his temple, almost touching his hair.

"...I..." Honestly, you were surprised you got that much out.

Still smiling, his eyes stared into your soul. "Use your words, dear."

Well, there was no going back now. You threw all your embarrassment out the window and nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes, Alastor, I do."

Alastor smiled (you could swear there was kindness behind it), bowed his head, and pressed your hand to the base of his ear.

You almost gasped. The hair (hair? fur? hair-fur?) was soft, softer than you'd imagined. Your fingers gently danced up and down his ear, and then moved over to caress his antlers.

Meanwhile, hidden from you, Alastor's face was a mess of emotions. Every bone in his body screamed at his to leave, to vanish, to get away from the danger that physical contact might bring. His eyes flashed into radio dials, then back again. However, within only a few seconds, he relaxed into your touch, letting out a soft exhale.

You were enthralled with his ears and antlers, so much so that you brought your other hand up to the back of his head, unintentionally pulling him closer to you. Alastor stepped forward slightly, swallowed his pride, and trailed his hands up the sides of your thighs to your waist, while your fingers kept toying with his hair.

Alastor, head still lowered, shifted enough to where he could look up at you. Finally, finally you were able to stop looking at the top of his head (satiated for now), and stared deep into his crimson eyes. (Were his pupils more dilated than normal?)

Slowly, he stood up straight, eyes still fixated on you. Your hands fell from his ears to his hair, and then to his chest. You seemed even more aware of the counter behind you, especially as Alastor took another small step toward you, almost pressing into you, hands tightening on your waist.

"Thank you," you whispered, almost inaudibly, head reaching up slightly.

"Any time, ma chère," he whispered back, as his head lowered.

At that moment, Charlie burst into the kitchen. Immediately, you spun around to face the sink, while Alastor shadow-traveled a few yards away to the fridge. "Alright, you two! I hope you're ready for some group exercises!" she bubbled.

You cleared your throat, blushing (grateful that she didn't see the almost-kiss). "Of course, we'll be out in a minute!" you assured the princess.

"No, no, right now! Let's goooo!" she dragged you out of the kitchen.

Before you passed the now open doorway, you caught Alastor's eye.

He smiled at you.

You grinned.

"Any time, my dear," he whispered once more as you disappeared. "Any time."

[leviscolwill]

read your mind (smau)

pairing: ollie bearman x singer!reader

in which: ollie is his gf's most supportive fan and you're the most supportive wag (face claim: sabrina carpenter)

notes: my first socmed au ever !! this was so so much fun to write hehe, i don't know if it's too long or too short for this kind of story so lmkkk. also yn.fm is yourname.fm (bc music got it ? hahahahaha.....)

now playing: read your mind by sabrina carpenter (emails i can't send)

yn.fm

liked by gracieabrams, olliebearman, and 472.332 others

yn.fm cooking a little something 👩‍🍳🤭

view all comments

user57 ALBUM SOON

yn.fm maybe, maybe not 🤭

olliebearman who let her cook ⁉️⁉️

yn.fm UR SO MEAN

olliebearman haha i love you

olliebearman

liked by yn.fm, arthurleclerc, and 67.843 others

olliebearman aaand we're back ! very excited about my first season in f2, many good things to come 😁👍

view all comments

prema_team Let's go Ollie !

yn.fm ROTY AWARD INCOMING

yn.fm I CAN'T WAIT FOR YOU TO WIN EVERY RACE

olliebearman who are you ?

yn.fm oliver answer the phone NOW 😁

yn.fm

liked by olliebearman, taylorswift and 861.989 others

yn.fm SURPRISE !!! my debut album 'email i can't send' is dropping on april 27th 2023 💌 i'm so so so excited to share these stories with you, tell me which track you're claiming in the commentssss 🫶

view all comments

user44 NONSENSE IS ABOUT TO BE MY TOP SPOTIFY WRAPPED SONG I CAN FEEL IT

olliebearman good choice 👍

yn.fm stop influencing my babies 😡

olliebearman just appreciating their taste love 🤷‍♂️

olliebearman they're so not ready

olliebearman not our little secret anymore :(

yn.fm i'll share other secrets with u dw 🤭

olliebearman

liked by scuderiaferrari, yn.fm, and 98.089 others

olliebearman so happy with this weekend's results! hoping for many other wins for the rest of the season :)

view all comments

yn.fm MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN

yn.fm 🐻celona 🤭🫶

yn.fm so leng

olliebearman stop this madness

scuderiaferrari Complimenti Ollie 👏

olliebearman grazie mille team !

yn.fm @olliebearman stop pretending you can speak italian on main

olliebearman @yn.fm you're about to get blocked

yn.fm

liked by flolikethis, alferdoflores and 980.421 others [tagged: olliebearman]

yn.fm nonsense video out tomorrow starring my favourite boy ever !!!

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user98 the highway is looking rlly comfy rn

olliebearman i caught the l-o-v-e

yn.fm so corny

olliebearman ??? they're your lyrics

yn.fm no ❤️

olliebearman am i your favourite actor as well ?

yn.fm not you thinking you can top ryan gosling

olliebearman 😞

yn.fm

liked by renee_downer, dennis_hauger and 875.385 others

yn.fm yk i luv a london boy !! uk tour starts tonight 😎

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olliebearman actually i'm from essex

yn.fm 'actually i'm from essex' 🤓☝️

olliebearman the british slander was a bit unnecessary

user68 i'm so excited to see you tonight xx

yn.fm i can't wait to see your cute faces my loves 🥹

formula2

liked by kimi.antonelli, roynissany and 57.998 others

formula2 Bearman to receive post-Feature Race time penalty at the #BritishGP.

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yn.fm booo you whore

user15 ariana what are you doing here ??

user66 LMAOO Y/N ON YOUR PUBLIC ACCOUNT ???

user98 @user66 her pr team must be so tired

yn.fm literally underserved

user39 so real of you

user07 so sad about ollie's penalty, on his home race as well :(

olliebearman

liked by prema_racing, nyckdevries, and 78.054 others

olliebearman i wish this weekend would've ended on a better note, but i'd like to thank everyone for the support there ❤️

view all comments

yn.fm so happy that i got to see you do what you love at your home race 🫶

yn.fm you were perfect ilysm

olliebearman love you ❤️

olliebearman

liked by clementnovalak, jakcrawford_ and 178.652 others [tagged: @yn.fm]

olliebearman happy one year to the most beautiful, hardworking and kind person on earth. here's to many many many other summers with you my love

view all comments

yn.fm I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ARGH

olliebearman i love you more 😁

paularon_ @olliebearman eww

yn.fm my swiftie bf

olliebearman you basically brainwashed me into a swiftie but okay

yn.fm

liked by oliviarodrigo, lissiemackintosh, and 1.003.581 others [tagged: olliebearman]

yn.fm happy anniversary to my lover, i'm so happy our paths crossed because i don't even know what i would do without you !! i love you more than words can say 🫶

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olliebearman my pretty girl !! i love you so much ❤️

yourbsf @olliebearman can i get her back now

olliebearman @yourbsf maybe tmrw

yourbsf @olliebearman it's been a week bearman 😐

olliebearman @yourbsf joint custody is so complicated with you

yn.fm @olliebearman @yourbsf HELLOO ??

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Blood, gore, major character deaths.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Oh my god.... Everything is happening ARGH! I'm actually going to try and post updates daily now for this, bar Sunday for the next Sublet chapter. I am just so excited to finish this series! Hahaha, anyway, I've loved seeing all your reactions and theories!! <3

Chapter 102: Envoys to Dragonstone 

When you had returned to your chambers, it was a blur of movements and thoughts, but one in particular seemed to absorb all the rest. Its dark tendrils wrapped around the others, pulling them into the dark with it, thus making its size almost immeasurable until all other thoughts were devoured by it, gone from the light, and all that was left was it. 

War was coming.

With shaky hands you grasped a piece of parchment and sat at the table. With the ink pot and quill, you rolled the parchment flat beneath your palm and began to write. 

You wrote as though your life depended on it. 

Because it did. 

And with each swift flick of your script, a blaring word in particular seemed to have broken loose from the feeling of hopelessness. A word which had been whispered and cried. Spoken and sneered. A word that had fuelled your hope, and created your despair. A word that you knew, now more than ever, was a need to act. 

Dracarys. 

And so you wrote until the page was full, and tears leaked from your eyes at knowing what was to come next. 

Loss. 

‘Mother and Father, 

To write to you under the present circumstances does little to steady my beating heart, but it is something that I know will ensure that it keeps doing just that. Beating. 

Aegon is dead. Slain at the hands of Aemond. 

And now he is King. And I, Queen.

The treaty is lost, and at the risk of another war coming to take us all, I must beg you, bend the knee.

Bend the knee to Aemond. 

If you swear him as King, he has said that he will allow you to live on Dragonstone and carry out your days there safely and happily. 

If you do not bend the knee, war will break, and I will not survive it.

You will not survive it. 

None of us will. 

My only consolation is that if you do, we shall all live, and that I will be able to see you again soon.

I suspect I am with child, Aemond’s child. And if the promise of your own flesh and blood upon the throne does not satiate your need to rule, then know I hold no grievances towards you. It is your birthright, just as it is mine.

If you do not bend the knee, you must send star fruit to the Keep so that I know of your decision, and may feel its sweet nectar upon my tongue once more before war breaks out. It is the only way I will survive this all, and it is the only way that I will know that you do not hate me for asking you of this. 

It was not my wish to depose my mother of the throne, nor my father, or my dearest brother Jacaerys. I beg for your forgiveness. I shall go to the Godswood and pray that you will forgive such an offence, and pray that the Gods will forgive my sins too.

Until then, I wait to hear of your acquiesce to Aemond and I's rule, or the delivery of star fruit to the keep in barrels full. 

Yours forever,

Queen Y/n.’

Tears slipped past your eyes, and you had not even heard Aemond enter the chambers, nor sense him standing behind you as he read your letter. It was only until he touched a lock of your hair at the back of your head did you know that he was there. 

“Are you ready?” He asked softly, cool patience in his tone.

You turned your head to look up at him.

Were you ready?

Would you ever be ready for what was to come?

If your parents bent the knee, that meant you would rule as Queen, like you had always wanted, and at the side of Aemond. 

But if they didn’t?

No.

They would come. 

Just as you asked.

More tears fell, and Aemond swiped them away gently with his thumb, “Issa iā qopsa geralbar bona ilagon gō īlva.  Yn nyke gīmigon bona hēnkirī, hae mēre, kosti.” It is a difficult road that lays before us. But I know that together, as one, we can.

“Iksan nāpāsagon ñuha lentor.” I am betraying my family, You sniffed, another tear trailing down your cheek hotly.

Aemond frowned sadly at you, helping you to stand.

“Iksis ziry drēje?” Is it true? He asked quietly, “Issi ao lēda riña?” Are you with child?

You knew in your bones that you were.

Although there were not many symptoms but the inklings of sore breasts, you just knew. You knew instinctually that it was true. That the Gods had given you and Aemond another chance of being parents, and you would not lose that opportunity again.

You nodded, another tear rolling down your cheek, one of sorrow and joy.

Aemond bent his head down to kiss you gently, lips brushing against your own in reverence, but his hands upon your face showed the true excitement that he held back. They were firm, and tight, and almost tingled against your skin. 

“I am scared.” You breathed.

“I will keep you and my child safe.” Aemond looked you in the eye, sincerity on his face, a hand coming to press gently at your stomach.

You smiled sadly at him, “Not if war breaks.”

“Even then. I will not lose you, or our child. You are the most precious thing in the world to me, my one and only love. Not even the Gods could take you from me.” He promised.

Your heart soared as you nodded up at him, rising on your tiptoes to capture his lips once more. He whispered an apology against your lips, and you couldn’t help the small sob that escaped.

“Please do not make me choose.” You whispered, hands holding the sides of his face, stubble brushing against the scar of your palm, the reminder of your union and love always there.

“You have already made your choice. Now they must make theirs.”

Aemond left you in the chambers alone to deliver your letter to Otto Hightower and Ser Criston Cole, who readied themselves to leave by ship that very evening. They would arrive to Dragonstone by morning. 

And you would get your answer from the skies.

DRAGONSTONE POV

The morning broke the same way that it had before.

The sun rose above the waters surrounding Dragonstone, and cast the volcanic island in a glow of golden light. There was a light breeze that morning as the maids had opened the windows and balcony doors to Queen Rhaenyra and King Daemon’s quarters. 

They had been dressed and readied, and broke their fast together. Little Viserys and Aegon the Younger tottered around their chambers, playing with tiny toy dragons that had been carved from wood. 

The couple eventually made their way down to the study, Rhaenyra having gotten word from the men at the Red Fork that a certain war dragon had been spotted in the skies, and not seen to have left until almost a dozen days later.

As Rhaenyra shifted the letters at the large desk and Daemon sat lazily before the fir with one leg crossed over the other as Little Viserys sat on his knee, stories being whispered into the young boys ear as Aegon the younger sat on the floor playing with his toys, the door to the chambers were rapt by knuckles thrice in quick succession. 

“Come.” Rhaenyra beckoned, and watched as the doors were opened swiftly by a Ser Erryk Cargyll.

The twin gave a short nod in greeting before apologising for his intrusion, “Your, Grace, there is a ship, just west of Dragonstone.”

Rhaenyra stiffened in her chair, and Daemon snapped his head to the man, quietening his whispers.

“It flies the banner of your brother.”

Rhaenyra stood from her seat slowly, Daemon going her with his son in his arms, the boy nestled against his side.

There had not been a ship to Dragonstone since the day Otto had come to watch her daughter be wed to her half-brother.

“Notify the council, have them be ready.” Rhaenyra commanded, and Ser Erryk bowed his head, leaving the chambers at once. 

Rhaenyra and Daemon stared at each other, Viserys fussing in Daemon’s arms, sensing the tension that mounted in the room like a storm.

“Do you think it’s a trap?” Daemon breathed heavily, smoothing hair away from his sons head as two of Rhaenyra’s maids entered the chambers.

Daemon kissed the top of the boys forehead before handing him to one of the girls, the other scooping Aegon the Younger into her arms before exiting the chambers. 

Rhaenyra moved around the desk, coming to stand in front of Daemon, “I believe we should be ready for it.”

By the time the two entered the Chambers of the Painted Table, the Small Council of Queen Rhaenyra were already standing around it in wait. Jacaerys stood off to the side, his Lady Wife, Baela beside him. 

Lord Corlys stood to the side of Baela with Princess Rhaenys and their other granddaughter Rhaena, all who wore black and red, with hints of blue, as was their new and old House colours. 

All other Lords and Maester’s stood at the other end. 

“When should they arrive to shore?” Rhaenyra asked, forgoing a greeting as she walked swiftly to the head of the table with her husband.

“Within the hour, Your Grace.” Came the response of Maester Gerardys.

Rhaenyra nodded, looking amongst the table before she jumped into action. 

“We need to be ready for whatever my brother Aegon has planned. Patrol the skies and the sea. Have men at the ready for anything.”

Jacaerys stepped forward, “I shall ride Vermax.”

Rhaenyra nodded, though her heart raced in her chest.

The last time she had allowed her children to take to the skies, only one came back.

“I’ll take Moondancer, Your Grace.” Princess Baela declared.

Rhaenyra gave the girl a small smile, “Good.” She turned to face Rhaenys, “Take Meleys to the sky. If Aegon or Aemond are to come on the backs of their dragons, we will need numbers and you are one of our best.”

Daemon was the next to speak, “I shall take Caraxes-”

“-No.” Rhaenyra argued, “You will stay with me. I need you at my side.” Turning to Lord Corlys, she requested the presence of his ships, “Have four of your ships ready at port.”

The older man nodded, moving swiftly out of the chambers to command them.

“You said there was only one ship?” Rhaenyra questioned the Maester.

“Yes, Your Grace. Only one has been spotted.”

The crown weighed heavily atop the Queens head in that moment, the first time she had ever truly felt the weight of it.

At first when Daemon had crowned her, it was foreign, but with time, she grew to not notice its presence, as though it was another set of braids atop her head. But now, she felt the heavy weight of it all, pressing down on her skull, hyperaware that she had a duty, and it was about to be tested.

Once the ships had been pulled to the docks, and her dragon riders had taken to the skies, Queen Rhaenyra and her King Consort, Daemon Targaryen, moved with the Queens Guard down to the meeting point of the path where they had stood before. 

When greeted with Aegon’s terms. 

And then later with the return of their daughter.

But this time, they waited and watched as the heads and banners of the Green three headed dragon came towards them, and they did not once sense that they would be reunited with their daughter once more. Instead, Ser Otto Hightower was flanked by Ser Criston Cole and members of her brothers Kings Guard.

Above them, three dragons flew in circles, watching from above. 

Waiting. 

Ready.

Ser Otto Hightower, in all his lithe glory, came to a stop before Queen Rhaenyra, looking all the more like a weevil that had crawled into a farmers grain.

For he was a pest that had wormed its way into her fathers life, and become the driving force of the usurpation of the throne, her daughter and sons deaths, and the removal of her surviving daughter to her half-brother.

Ser Otto was a man that Rhaenyra as a child had hoped and prayed that her father would have seen through. That Viserys could have seen the man before him was a mask, a shell, and hid his true intentions behind duty and tradition. But Viserys had been blinded by the wolf in sheep's clothing, and Otto’s lies had been strengthened by Daemon’s love for her.

Viserys never did get to see the ruin that his inaction would become.

Daemon, the once Rogue Prince, stood at his wife’s side diligently, as he had promised to do, large palms resting upon the two swords that flanked him, one being the Dark Sister blade. He struggled to not sneer at the man who had taken everything from him.

Taken his daughter from him. His brother.

“We come as envoys.” Otto began, Ser Cole staring at Daemon, his own hand atop the hilt of his sword.

Daemon had not forgotten Cole's place in all this either.

Crispin Cole.

Rhaenyra looked down at the men from her nose. Despite being shorter than them, she stood uphill, and gave the illusion that she was above them.

And she was.

Where she was Queen, they were mere Ser’s.

“King Aemond the First-“

“-Aemond?” Rhaenyra interrupted sharply, worry coursing through her chest, “Did my brother Aegon drink himself to death in his cups?”

Otto reached into his coat pocket, the Queen’s Guard shifting as they watched his movement carefully. Long fingers pulled apart his lapel and dove into the inner pocket, grasping the rolled parchment from their daughter.

Daemon shifted atop the balls of his feet.

Lord Hightower held out the scrolled parchment, green insignia stamped into its papery surface with wax, “A letter from the Queen.” 

“Queen?” Daemon snipped, looking at the parchment. 

Ser Erryk stepped forward to grasp the letter, armour shuffling as his eyes darted to his twin, Arryk Cargyll, who stood behind Otto Hightower.

It was a sad day for either twin, seeing their other half on different sides of a silent war. Their eyes met, if only briefly, all hurt and betrayal, before Erryk took the scroll and delivered it to Rhaenyra.

“King Aegon is dead. And in the line of succession, Aemond has taken his place.”

“What about his remaining son?” Daemon questioned, looking at the scroll briefly before back at Otto.

Otto held his hands behind his back, “Maelor is too young to rule at such a time, and Aemond has taken the Iron Throne.”

Ser Erryk held out the parchment for his Queen to take, which she took whilst keeping her eyes upon Otto, much like her husband, who continued to talk. 

“Bend the knee to the King, swear your fealty to him and he shall allow you to remain here as the Lady of Dragonstone, whereafter your son Jacaerys the Lord of Dragonstone, and Joffrey Lord of Driftmark. The Queen has agreed to send word to you now that the treaty has ended with Aegon’s passing.”

Rhaenyra hastily unrolled the parchment, ripping the green wax insignia of the three headed dragon off the paper, the wax crumbling onto the stone below. Violet eyes roved over her daughters script whilst Daemon read over the top of her shoulder. 

The Queen felt a tide of rage.

“I will not bend the knee to a usurper and kinslayer who is not even second in the line of succession. He has no right to the throne.” She hissed at the Hightower Lord, “Where is the Princess?”

“She is Queen Consort now, and shall live her days with the King in peace and safety. Your blood sits upon the Iron Throne, Rhaenyra, something that should satiate your desire for war. Bend the knee to Aemond, blood not be needlessly spilt again.”

Otto spoke like an old man telling his daughter or wife to buy something from the market that was not needed, and not at all like a man who was preventing a war.

Daemon quietly seethed beside his wife, looking at Otto, and having read two words that gave him the permission he so desperately sought. Daemon shifted, hand pulling the Dark Sister blade from her sheath and stormed forward.

“Fuck this.” Daemon sneered.

Ser Cole stepped toward him, and from above a dragon screeched.

It was a blur of guards, and the sound of men and their blades being unsheathed filling the air.

Ser Erryk Cargyll stepped to the side of Daemon, if not slightly more forward, blocking the blow of Ser Cole’s blade as Daemon moved towards Otto, whose eyes were wide in shock. Queen and King’s Guards met in the middle, a blur of bodies as Rhaenyra stood firmly, planted as she were.

Watching. 

With a swing of the Dark Sister blade, Daemon sliced through Ser Otto Hightower’s shoulder, the blade cutting through flesh and bone as though it was butter, carving down to the middle of his chest.

Blood sprayed from his wound, and the older man cried out into the air, the beating wings of dragons loud above them.

As the King Consort pulled his blade from the Hightower Lord, who stumbled backwards on shaky legs, Daemon swung the Dark Sister blade into the air once more, connecting with his neck.

His body landed on the floor before his head did, which rolled downwards into the chaos of the guards and knights who fought, mouth open and eyes wide.

Ser Erryk blocked another swipe of Criston’s blade, who came at him harder and faster, anger and desperation in his eyes. Ser Arryk, his twin, steadily approached the two as he battled through the sea of fighting.

A few of Aemond’s men had turned back, running down the path to try to get back to their ship, to send word to the King, but a large shadow loomed above them, and with a cry, Baela screamed out her deathly command for the very first time.

“Dracarys!”

Moondancer, a slender and pale green dragon with pearl like horns, opened her jaws and a plume of fire was cast over the Green deserters. The flames devoured the men entirely, who screamed in agony, trying to outrun their burning flesh, before dropping to the floor below, silent and stiff.

Baela, to prevent any more attempting to escape, landed against the path, the large claws of her dragon digging into the stone sides, much like how Rhaenyra had, many moons ago.

Moondancer screeched, head down and long at the backs of Aemond’s men who turned to face the dragon in fear, swords lifted in a pathetic last chance of defence. 

It was an opportunity that Rhaenyra’s men did not let pass. 

And an opportunity Daemon didn’t either. 

The Dark Sister blade cut through three men, and Jacaerys upon Vermax landed behind the Queen and her men, a subtle threat, and a vow of protection for his Queen Mother.

Vermax growled deeply, teeth bared, whilst Rhaenys continued to circle atop Meleys from above, searching the skies for any sign of her cousins.

Ser Cole, sensing that he was fighting a losing battle, did not give up, and came at Ser Erryk brutally. The twin stumbled backwards, Arryk moving towards Cole’s side as Criston's blade barely just missed the twins face.

But as Ser Cole was occupied, and Rhaenyra watched from behind stony faced, he did not see the shadow that passed behind him, nor did he anticipate the thrusting of the Dark Sister blade through the pummel of his chest.

Ser Erryk Cargyll took advantage of the opportunity, and turned to face his twin brother, a man who was the exact image of him bar small scars upon their bodies, and if you had asked Arryk a year before, he was taller. Their swords clashed together, moves and skill mirrored as both men had grown and trained together side by side.

Daemon Targaryen, the once Rogue Prince and now Rogue King, a man who was seasoned in war, and battle, and swordsmanship, stood behind Ser Criston Cole, blade in hand as it penetrated through the top of his chest under his shoulder. Blood dripped from its tip thickly as he looked down at it, eyes wide in shock. 

Daemon’s silver hair, now streaked in blood, lifted gently in the breeze that rolled past.

The drops of Ser Cole’s blood was loud in Rhaenyra’s ears as she looked at the man dubbed ‘The King Maker’.

With a large boot, Daemon kicked the knight off of his blade, and onto his knees.

Ser Criston Cole landed with a thud, looking up at Rhaenyra, eyes darkened by hatred. The blade in his hand had fallen to the ground, and blood dripped down from his wound thickly, splattering across the stones like many of his other men. 

Rhaenyra looked down her nose at the man, lips pulled back in a sneer.

It was quiet on the path, the only sound Rhaenys’ dragon calling out from above, and the sound of blood on stone. All other fighting was drowned out by the rage that pumped through her veins.

And as though connected through a bond, like rider and dragon, Daemon stood behind Ser Criston Cole, The King Maker; a man who had been sworn to Rhaenyra once before, a man she had once been intimate with when she was a young girl, a man who had witnessed the Gods affirmation that she was fit for the throne, a man who had aided the usurpation of the throne, a man who had broken his oath to the cloak, and Daemon heeded the Queen’s wordless command.

Daemon swung the Dark Sister blade one final time.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

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Bold is who I cannot tag!

[eliotquillon]

i have to imagine that at some point during chase and cameron’s fwb era, chase went back to aus for a trip. what about a time zones/jealous cam drabble?

sorry this took me FOREVER and is also not really jealous cam but more…pining cam?? argh. but i tried :) set between fetal position and airborne

In the end, it isn’t House who goes on vacation after they discharge Emma Sloan. It’s Chase; he walks into work one morning, a rare day when they’re not both riding in together, shoulders hunched and face pale, and says, “House. I need to talk to you.”

“You know I hate it when you do that,” House complains, but he must see what Cameron sees: the sunken gaze, the tense fingers. Who died, Cameron thinks, but his parents are both dead already. He leads Chase to his office and shuts the blinds. Cameron looks, and looks, and looks. Chase does not look back.

*

“I’m going out of town for a few days,” Chase tells her at lunch. They are attracting stares: the whole hospital knows they’re sleeping together now, no thanks to House. No thanks to me, Cameron thinks, a little guilty, and pushes another forkful of salad into her mouth. “Can you check on my stuff while I’m gone?”

“Out of town?” Cameron presses, selfishly wanting; she regrets it as soon as she says it. Chase presses his lips together, pushes his fries sullenly around his plate. Cameron is all too aware of the choreography. In two hours, the nurses will all be whispering about the big break-up—false for all the obvious reasons, but also because there’s nothing to break up. “What happened?”

“I have to go to Melbourne,” Chase says flatly. “There’s an issue with my dad’s will.”

“But I thought he cut you out of it,” Cameron frowns. She doesn’t mean to be insensitive with her bluntness. She only means to clarify; she had been shell-shocked, when he spat it out bluntly all those months ago, not at the specifics but at the mere concept of it. It’s the sort of thing you hear about, vague family gossip about a friend of a friend, but surely, Cameron had thought, it didn’t really happen. Surely people—mothers, fathers, great-aunts—were never really so cruel as to deliberately strike someone out with their last act in this world, not for no good reason. Chase spears a fry, and does not eat it.

“He did,” he says heavily. “Including the stuff he had no right to cut me out of. Can you do it?”

No, Cameron thinks. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t handle it. I’d be a sobbing mess, not coming into work every day to flirt with a colleague and snipe at Foreman and save people’s lives. Not casually discussing it over lunch. But that isn’t what Chase is asking.

“Of course,” she says, “just leave me the key.”

*

She gets into the routine of it easily enough. It helps that she knows her way around Chase’s apartment already—though, of course, she knows the bedroom best. Cameron stops by every evening on her way home from work to air the place out, sort the mail, check there’s nothing spoiling in the refrigerator. Chase left at the last minute; there are still clothes in his laundry hamper, a towel on the bathroom floor, electronics still plugged in. When she turns on the TV out of idle interest, it is automatically tuned to a sports channel. Cameron laughs, and the way the sound rings out across the empty room makes her feel absurdly guilty.

It would be so easy to pry. She has the experience, after all—years of snooping around patients’ homes, always careful to put things back where she found them, and she’s far more familiar with Chase’s habits and floorplan than she is theirs—and, secretly, she has the desire. Without him here to distract her with his hands or mouth or terrible post-sex cooking, it is easier to admit her own curiosity to herself. It is easier to admit that she wants to know him beyond the scope of what he has already told her. But easier isn’t the same as easy. Cameron closes windows and throws out expired milk. She ignores the bedroom. She always leaves the key behind.

*

It isn’t that she misses him, at work. It’s simply lacking for a case—House is due to fly to Singapore the day after Chase is scheduled to return—and there’s scarcely anything to do. She has brief, cordial lunches with Foreman, spends the mornings doing clinic duty and the afternoons catching up on House’s permanently-backlogged charting. It is all very companionable; she has always liked Foreman well enough, save for the times he has given her reason to be annoyed, and without Chase to wind him up Foreman seems to return the sentiment. He only tries to broach the subject once.

“About you and Chase,” he starts, and Cameron’s pen leaves a dent on her chart.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she says. It’s the wrong answer: she should’ve said, there’s nothing to talk about. It’s what she means to say, but for some reason her mouth won’t form the words. Foreman sighs, and his eyebrows make a grand leap of frustration, but he just nods.

“Don’t bring me into it,” he warns, and this time Cameron doesn’t bother trying to correct him.

*

Melbourne is sixteen hours ahead of New Jersey. It is natural, Cameron thinks, to wonder what he might be doing. It is natural, given the circumstances, to wonder if he’s alright. It is not natural to wonder if he misses her, but she finds herself doing that anyway. His voicemail beeps with messages; the sound of the dialtone makes her so irritated that she has to fight the urge to delete them all at once.

*

“Thanks,” Chase says when he comes back to work, jetlagged and small-looking and yet, Cameron hopes, a little pleased to see her. “You didn’t have to clean up after me.”

She didn’t mean to. She didn’t even want to, but her hands were idle and his phone kept beeping and once, while she was intercepting a delivery he must’ve forgotten about, she heard a strange woman’s voice ask about him on the speakerphone, words garbled through the closed hallway door. In Cameron’s experience, it is easier to resist temptation if there is something to be tempted away from. “I don’t mind,” she says. “Did everything turn out alright?”

“More or less,” Chase shrugs. He leans close; he still smells a bit like stale plane air and, Cameron imagines, a certain kind of foreign-ness. “Come over tonight?” he asks in a hopeful undertone.

Cameron is sick of his apartment. She would rather not examine why. “Come to mine,” she says, decisive, and rises to greet Foreman.

[anton-luvr]

can you do anton x gender neutral reader where they’re coworkers at a book store and when they have to pass books to each other to put away or do their duties with, they put little notes to each other and it’s sticking out and then that’s how anton asks us out

# WITH YOU.

𖦹 bf!anton x gn!reader | fluff | coworkers to lovers au

𖦹 note ; this is so cute ARGH thank u for requesting anon!!! and thank u for waiting too, i hope u like it! <3 + reqs are CLOSED !

Dealing with your boss was the most difficult part of your job.

Barely anyone came in to the local bookstore you worked at, but your boss would always insist on purchasing boxes and boxes of books that would go untouched, leaving it to you and your coworker, Anton, to unbox and shelve them.

You used to despise it, till Anton came up with a silly solution to make the task more bearable.

He would Google up the stupidest jokes and scribble them down on little Post-It notes, placing them randomly in the books.

If he was feeling extra, he'd even write down your horoscope.

It was nothing much, but it was enough to make you smile when shelving the books away.

After a while, you started to do the same for Anton. You would sketch drawings of cats, sometimes sketching famous memes to earn the melody of Anton's laughter for almost five minutes straight.

It soon became habit for the both of you, each leaving a colorful Post-It note to surprise the other on shelving day.

But for today, you don't think you'll have enough time.

Your boss had truly gone insane.

Sales were at an all time low, but he had just purchased five boxes of books. 'Need them scanned and shelved by 5pm, latest.' his text message read, followed by a simple 'okay! :)' from Anton.

You were too annoyed to reply.

"This is crazy," you sigh dramatically, resting your head on the shelf with a thud. "We're never going to finish this before five!"

Anton tuts from his seat at the counter, where he's seemingly busy scanning the books into the system. "Come on, we got this. I'll scan these up as fast as I can and come help you shelve them."

You groan, reluctantly picking up novels and sliding them into the wooden cases. "Fine." you grumble.

Now, if you had stopped being so upset about it and turned around, you'd see what Anton was really doing.

He was writing furiously on pink Post-It notes while he bit his bottom lip anxiously, heart racing a mile a minute.

Hoping you didn't notice, he grabbed some books and stuck each one of them randomly.

Nervously, he takes a deep breath.

"Y/N," he calls out, picking up the stack of books. "There's another stack here to be shelved."

You grunt a response, almost done with the literature shelf you were working on.

"Can you pass them to me? That way I can get this done faster." you asked, exasperated. Anton nods and scurries over immediately, gripping the books so hard that his knuckles were white.

But the pieces of pink paper sticking out of the books catches your attention, and an excited smile falls on your lips.

"Ooh, there's a lot of sticky notes today." you tease. "What is it this time? My horoscope or a motivational quote?"

To your surprise, Anton only shrugs, holding the books out towards you without a word.

Raising an eyebrow, you glance at your coworker suspiciously. "It better not be some sort of insult," you threaten jokingly, not knowing it was going to be quite the opposite.

The first Post-It note you come across tells you just that.

Very simply, written in black marker, was the letter 'G'.

Confused, you turn it towards Anton. "What's this?" you ask. "What does G stand for?"

Playing dumb, Anton shrugs again. "I don't know, you'll just have to keep checking them to see."

Your confusion grows as you receive more and more letters, and you stick them to the shelf for you to keep track.

The last Post-It note was a question mark, and you were just as puzzled. "I don't get it." you mumbled, holding it up for Anton to see. "Is this some kind of riddle?"

Still not talking, Anton points at where you had stuck the Post-It notes.

The moment your eyes run over the chunky alphabets, the message 'GO ON A DATE WITH ME?' rings in your head.

"Me?" you echo, facing Anton with eyes wide with surprise.

Mistaking your reaction for rejection, Anton panics.

"I-It’s fine if you don’t want to, I was just asking!" he squeaks, and he turns around to run back to the counter where he could hide in embarrassment.

But you stop him, pulling him by the arm to face you.

"Hey, I would love to." you reply softly, smiling.

"Really?" he mumbles, eyes shining with pure joy. He knew there would be a fifty percent chance of you saying yes while he planned all this, but it felt surreal to hear you actually agree to go out with him.

"Yeah," you laugh, ruffling his hair.

"Okay then!" he chirps, smiling shyly. "Do you want to go get dinner together on Saturday? Or does Sunday work better for you?"

You hum, putting another book on the shelf.

"Anytime is fine for me," you say, your cheeks warm at the newfound fact that your cute coworker was into you.

"As long as it’s with you."

© anton-luvr, 2023.

[the-possum-writes]

[Monster Mash] 🔞

❥Character: (Hugwolf) Finn Mertens

❥Tags: NS/FW, smut, non specified private parts, gender neutral reader, kn0ts, size difference, teratophilia

❥Synopsis: Jake entrusts you to watch Finn while they look for a cure.

❥Wordcount: 1028

❥A/N: Happy Halloween! I couldn't do October themed stuff but I had this request in the bin from AO3 and I figured today was an ideal day to post. 🎃👻🐺

❥Taglist: @foxpearlwilder

"Keep an eye on Finn while we track down the Alfa Hugwolf, don't let him out of your sight!" Is the responsibility Jake entrusted upon you.

"Good hunting!" I'll do whatever it takes to keep him here." Is your vow to Jake as you shakily grasp the walkie talkie, but throughout your conversation, you failed to notice Cinnamon bun being used to free hugwolf Finn from his confinement that was designed particularly to keep him locked up. You dropped the walkie talkie as you turned around slowly and saw a set of yellow canine eyes peering down at you with the utmost need for affection. The warm breath huffing over your shoulder had startled you into a chilly position. His big fluffy arms lift you up faster than you could run away, not that you'd get very far, but it's better than passively being squeezed that has your sides aching and your heart fluttering, and even then, there's only so much of his hugs you can take before falling limp to the hugwolf's touch, Finn sniffs you curiously before huffing in disdain that you couldn't handle his cuddles like many others.

The Hugwolf was more than willing to abandon you in search of a new hug victim, but you're not ready to let him go so easily. Jake trusted you, and you'll do whatever it takes to see it through, especially since it involves your best friend's safety.

"is that all you got?" You manage to stand on unsteady legs, but your arms are sturdy and ready.

This caused the hugwolf to run up to you for another large hug, knocking you off your feet and onto the floor, but instead of feeling the dungeon rock, you collided against Finn's coarse fur as he protected you from the fall, holding you up to him as he rubbed himself all over you. This wasn't too bad if you ignored the fact that you were caught in his grip like a pet owner overly devoted towards their pet; you found yourself snoozing away unconscious because of how pleasant Finn's hold was on you, but then something different startled you awake.

"So soft." With short huffs and playful growls, the Hugwolf caressed you over his chest and midriff, letting you feel a hardened hump pressing against your plump bottom. One of your hands crept away from your side and gently touched the firm bulge that was now warm against the fabric of Finn's shorts, or what remained of them.

The Hugwolf makes you gasp. There's a warmth whirling inside your gut at the idea developing in your head, consequently Finn responded by thrusting his hips forward in a frantic whimper. "Whatever it takes," you say to yourself as you put your hand inside Finn's shorts. His snout nestles into your shoulder as he adjusts his grip on you in a more gentle squeeze, laying the two of you on his side so he can enthusiastically wag his tail, dry humping his growing cock against your open palm that doesn't slow down its stroking. "Argh, I'm gonna hug you so hard," he breaths in your aroma before tasting you directly by licking the side of your cheek, making your face burn warm because it's the closest thing to a kiss you've had from Finn. Except for the one time you gave him mouth to mouth, which doesn't count. Your heart races against Finn's chest as soon as you think the hug can't get any hotter. Finn pulls you up to him and tears your lower clothes, including your underwear, leaving you blushing profusely. "Whoa! Take it easy, there! You're at least twice my size-!" Instead of warning him, it made you want him even more. Particularly now that his heart-shaped paws have turned you over in such a way that your private parts are in full view of his ravenous glare, lapping you and leaving behind enough saliva to give the impression that he was drinking water from a bowl, Finn's tongue stimulation has you jerking and squirming in his grasp as the ecstasy takes over your body and senses.

"Won't let you go" Hugwolf Finn growls greedily. Finn left you so stunned that you were unable to recognize that he had flipped you again, with your back against his chest and both legs raised as he tried to slide inside of you. Finn kept trying to push the leaking tip of his cock inside of you, but it kept slipping away and brushing against your sensitive areas, so you cried out in desperation and grabbed hold of his heated shaft, hoping to guide it straight into your waiting insides. You give a strained, "Oh fuck-!" as Finn doesn't wait for you to calm down and just begins pounding on you like there's no tomorrow. But he also hugs you while you're gasping and groaning, giving you sloppy hugwolf kisses and lovingly telling you how nice you feel.

You imagined he'd already filled you to the full with his entire cock, but there's a lovely little surprise waiting for you just at the base of his length, something round and throbbing, like an unexpected gift wrapped in a gorgeous knot. "Fiiinnn... I don't know if it'll fit... But, but... I want it inside! All of you!" You gasp at the extra heat stuffing you full, practically swaying your hips in sync with Finn's just to try to match his speed to no effect. But who needs speed when the rhythm of this dirty dance begins to lose its pace as you climax right here on Finn's hugwolf cock. Your smaller form twitches in the aftermath as Finn pumps you up full of his warm cum, unable to measure how much of it there is due to his knot keeping you in place, but hey at least you accomplished your mission.

"Hah... I did it~ I'll be keeping you here until Jake comes back with the cure..." You say with a triumphant smile as Finn cuddles up to you like you're a teddy bear. Although now that you think about it, this hugwolf curse isn't so bad, deep down you hope it'll take a while for them to find that cure.

[brownieblob]

Be Careful Not to Mess With the Balance of Things"

Introductory post !!!

Max Russo x Fem!Reader

Chapter 1 (more coming soon...)

Synopsis:

When the usual becomes unusual all because of one girl…

Professor Crumbs never dropped by for casual visits. His sudden arrival carried grave news: A soul transfer by a nymph to a mortal girl, giving the mortal magical abilities. The girl, unaware of her new powers could fall victim to death or insanity if her powers were left untrained or weren't fully removed.

The Russo's weren't sure how exactly they played into this but once told that the only clue on finding this girl was her recent move to New York, alongside her family- things made more sense.

"So you want us to kidnap her?"

Naturally, none of the Russo's expected to actually bump into this girl, especially not Max. But upon bumping into the new girl at school, things took a sharp turn.

That girl was you.

Caught in a whirlwind of cheesy romance, clichéd tropes, and something as unreal as magic was you, painfully aware of how ridiculous everything seemed to be.

"Why does it feel like we're in a sitcom?"

But this wasn't a sitcom. Behind the sandwiches and spells was an ugly truth.

"You might die. Emphasis on the 'might'."

The 'might' didn't make it feel any better when everyone was so serious.

___ * ___

Y/N L/N

"What in the bippity boppity boo is this..?"

"So you kidnapped me?"

"Oh no. I have magical powers. What a catastrophe."

"Why does it feel like we're in a sit-com?

Max Russo

"So yeah, we need to not not kidnap you. So I think that means we need to kidnap you."

"You like sandwiches too?"

"I can't believe you guys thought I wouldn't do something so stupid."

"You have beautiful eyes...like olives. I think I'm hungry."

Justin Russo

"Does it not get through your thick skull? You have magic powers and need our help to help you control them. Thus, you should totally follow us into this cramped corridor. So what if we're strangers?"

"You might die. Emphasis on the 'might'."

"Since I'm the student body president, your actions affect my reputation. SO STOP THIS. Thank you"

Alex Russo

"When did the music get so romantic and WHY IS MAX HOLDING A BOUQUET?"

"Isn't it fun? You have magical powers, so what if you might explode. Yeah no, that sounded better in my head."

"Relax, without stupid people we wouldn't have anyone to laugh at, right Max?"

"Try this spell, it might work. I found it in this book- "Definitely Not Curses". See, they aren't curses."

Harper Finkle

"Like my new outfit?  Only made of bubblewrap and cardboard."

"I don't think anyone needed to see that.."

"Why does she get magic powers and I don't? Oh, she might die? Nevermind."

Jerry & Theresa Russo

"They'd make a cute couple, right Jerry?" "Agreed"

"That's it Jerry. I need an explanation, now." "Argh..! Max, word your sentences better..!"

"That girl could die." "I know."

Professor Crumbs

"No Justin, I am not taking you on an escapade."

"Oh, I didn't expect them to actually find you."

"This is quite an interesting case, truly. I just don't understand why the Nymph chose you."

"Anyone for some tea?"

__ * __

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the character's from Wizard's Of Waverly Place, all credits go to Disney for the character's used from their franchise. The only characters I claim ownership of are one's I invented myself. 

Author's Note: Hello guys, I'm Brownie and this is my first story on this fandom (or anything Disney really). This is supposed to be a crack-fic but it still has a plot and is still taken seriously by me. When I say 'crack', I mean that the MC (you) is VERY self-aware- and obviously Y/N isn't Candace but that's the kind of vibe I'm going for. I'm talking about the "this is the eleventh time we've bumped into each other today" OR "Why does it feel like we're in a rom-com movie" kind of humor. BUT because I'm recently in LOVE with Max Russo, the character, I JUST HAD to start writing this. Not to mention, there's a lack of fics on this fandom and him specifically (I'm on a mission to change that)

To read it on Wattpad

My other blog (main)

[ineffably-queer-book-lover]

Hanging in there.

Hello my beloved moots, I am sorry for being AWOL for longer than I anticipated. Real life has been a shitshow of epic proportions and I've been sick on and off myself to the point that I've just felt too overwhelmed to deal with more than surviving and helping others to do so to the best of my abilities.

Not going into detail about most of it, because it also concerns other people whose privacy I won't violate, but let me just address one point: I am so fucking sick of losing loved ones to memory loss. Seriously, death would be kinder in some cases than losing everything that makes you who you are (or were). And my heart goes out to everyone who is losing a beloved one who is just not there anymore. It's incredibly hard to have a beloved one right there, alive and breathing, but they might as well be dead in every way that matters.

It's happening to three people in my life right now: dementia, a brain tumor, and fucking seizures causing severe brain damage... three different reasons, but all with the same devastating consequences for the patients.

Had one of my closest friends 'cancel' our friendship of many many years, because they apparently don't remember what we've had and their meds have changed their personality drastically. To say I am heartbroken and worried sick about them is an understatement. Another friend was placed into a nursing home (actually a hospice). She still has lucid moments occasionally, but they get rarer and rarer. Her doctors advise against visiting, because it's too upsetting for her. We should prepare "for the worst" in the near future. Not going to talk about the third and most beloved person in my life. I don't think I have the strength or even the words for that.

So, yes, memory loss is a very real and devastating topic to me at the moment and I'll set up a filter for that, because even seeing non-spoilery speculation about it potentially being a thing in Good Omens 3 is hitting too close to home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Anyway, I'll keep fighting, no matter how hard it is to deal with everything on top of my own health issues. I am on leave this week (translation: wasting precious leave days for four obligatory bi-annual check-ups with various specialists). Such fun!

So yeah, I'll be around (hopefully), but probably not as active as I'd like to be, because I just don't have the mental capability to go through hundreds of posts and reblogging everything I'd like to reblog. Please be patient with me.

I've worked a bit on my custom Good Omens Lego minifigures as my own special brand of mental health therapy for the last couple of days, so hopefully I'll get to share some pictures with you soon!

I hope you are doing better than me! If there's anything you think I should definitely know about, please let me know or tag me, because I won't be able to go through all the stuff I've missed in almost two weeks. Argh, I didn't even realize it's been this long. Oops.

🫂🫂🫂

[sah-crescentmoon]

Art for the short story. For those who kept up with my short stories and OCs, yes, I have finally wrote a short story of Iris (it's a story from her childhood). I have been meaning to post this, but I never knew what I wanted to draw and was busy with school. But after a month or two, I finally made the art and can now post this. The short story isn't the best, but I like it regardless and hope for those who kept up with them will enjoy them too. (Note: I don't know much about guns and it will be noticeable within the story).

Competition:

Iris lifted the pistol up and aimed. The glass bottle was 10 yards away from her and there was a lack of strong wind today, so Iris knew this shot will be easier than usual. She took a deep breathe in and fired the pistol. The crack of the pistol pierced the silence of the field and soon the shatter of glass could be heard as the pieces hit the ground. Iris lifted the pistol to the air and quickly put the safety on. She smiled as she put the pistol into the holster.

“Well, I’ll be damned. You’ve gotten better,” a voice spoke. Iris turned around to see a female fox in an army uniform with a distinictive white and red cross armband. Iris smiled as she ran up to her.

“Lucy! You’re back! How was the trip back home?” Iris shouted as she hugged her sister. Lucy laughed as she hugged her little sister back. “You stayin’ for the competition?” Lucy nodded. Iris smiled even wider.

“How can I miss the chance to see my little sister compete in a competition she won’t shut up about for the last 5 years,” Lucy laughed. Iris blushed at the mention of that. She still can’t believe she nearly stepped on the turkey when she stood on the table to announce she wanted to join the competition. To this day, Iris is banned from speaking of it at the dinner table. Lucy then laughed harder as she realized Iris remembered that day. “I swear I thought ma was ready to ground you for life for that!”

“B-Be quiet!” Iris shouted as she playfully hit her sister. The two sisters continued to banter until they heard a bicycle bell ring. They turned to see the boy from the neighboring house ride up to them. The boy hopped off his bicycle and walk up to them. The two sisters looked at each other. Lucy stepped forward and blocked the view of Iris’ holster. The sisters knew that woman being interested in firearms, especially for sports, was still looked down upon. So, Lucy wanted to make sure that the neighbor’s kid had nothing to tell others.

“Good mornin’!” The boy shouted. Iris and Lucy both greeted him back. The boy tried to look behind Lucy, but Lucy remained still. The boy shrugged. “My ma wanted to know why someone here is shootin’.”

“Your ma heard wrong. No one here was shootin’.” The boy didn’t look like he believed. He gave a smirk.

“Oh. Iris, it was you who was shootin’,” the boy said. The boy finally managed to look past Lucy. Iris tried to hide the gun holster, but the belt around her hip was a dead give away. The boy chuckled. “Heard you was going to join the target shooting competition today. Did they allow you to join?”

“I want to. Will you?” Iris asked. The boy then broke out in laughter. Iris felt humiliated and angry that his reaction. Lucy gripped her shoulder. When Iris looked up, Lucy shook her head. Her sister was telling her to not say anything.

“You? You think you can win that competition? You’ll be lucky if they even let you compete!” The boy laughed as he turned to his bicycle. “Tell you what, if you win the competition then I’ll do your chore of cleanin' the barn!” With that the boy left.

“Argh! I hate that I can’t say anything back to him!” Iris shouted as she grabbed her gun and aimed at the last bottle standing. Quickly, she fired the gun and watched as the bottle shattered. Suddenly, her sister held her hand.

“Don’t worry about him. However, have you even signed up?” Lucy asked. Iris nodded.

“Sure did. They didn’t say much though,” Iris recounted. Lucy looked confused. “I went there the other day with Roy and…”

Iris gleefully ran outside. It was the day she was going to sign up for tomorrow’s shooting competition. She found her dad gathering the newly grown wheat. Quietly, or as quietly as she could be, snuck up behind him. But before she could pounce, someone shouted.

“Good mornin', Iris!” Iris pouted as her dad turned around. He chuckled as he realized that his daughter was trying to spook him. Iris snapped her head to the one who gave away her chance to scare her dad. An older fox smirked as he tried to pretend he didn’t say anything.

“Roy!” Iris shouted. Roy, who was her older brother, laughed. He walked up to his little sister.

“What? Is- Is somethin' the matter?” He chuckled. Iris pursed her lips as she ran behind her brother. And immediately jumped onto his back. “H-Hey! What gives?!’ He shouted as he tried to get Iris to get off of him.

“This is what you get for snitchin’!” Iris said as she laughed. Roy finally grabbed Iris and pulled her off. Iris squirmed and was quickly placed on the ground. Roy rolled his eyes, but he soon seemed to notice something.

“Is that dad’s gun holster?” Roy asked. Their dad, who had gone back to work, turned to look at her. Iris nodded. “Why do you have it again? Dad already let you use it yesterday.”

“The competition is tomorrow! I want to enter it!” Iris shouted. Roy and their father’s face scrunched, but as quickly it came, it was gone. Iris tilted her head in confusion. Roy chuckled and pat her head.

“Well, let’s take you there! I am sure they’ll let you sign up,” Roy said. Unknown to Iris, his voice was strained. The two quickly set out to town.

“Ah! There it is! Do you think they’ll mind if I use dad’s pistol?” Iris said as they neared the booth. Roy did not respond. He suddnly stopped.

“Iris, stay here. I’ll talk to them,” Roy said. Iris nodded as she watched Roy walk up to the booth. Iris watched as Roy and the man spoke. The man immediately began to laugh. Iris looked away. She knew it. Despite all that she hoped, she knew she would never be allowed the competition.

“All good!” Roy shouted. Iris looked up as her brother handed her a ticket. Iris smiled widely as she jumped into her brother’s arms.

“Oh thank you! Thank you!” She shouted over and over. Roy chuckled as he hugged her back. The two siblings left the town square and back home. Iris could not stop smiling nor talking. Her brother remained silent.

“And yeah. That’s what happened,” Iris said, finishing her story. Lucy hummed. The two sisters stayed silent as they thought. “Anyway, I have to go! The competition is soon and I will be damned to be late!” Iris shouted as she bolted to the house to gather more ammunitions. She did not see how Roy had appeared and spoke to Lucy.

Her father was in the house waiting. “Hey, before you compete. Here, a gun and its holster of your own. So, stop hoggin' mine!” he laughed. Iris gasped as she held it. It was a gun and a gun holster that was hers and hers alone! She couldn’t stop thanking her dad. Her mother laughed. Iris smiled. She had to win this competition now! She ran out of the house and did not wait for her family.

The crowd was large. Iris felt so nervous. A lot of the competitors were older than her. All of them seemed to at least be an adult or older teen. Unlike her, who was only 14. Iris walked up to the man at the booth. The same one as yesterday. She turned her ticket in.

“Ah, so you’re the little Annie Oakley,” the man chuckled. Iris rolled her eyes but nodded. Annie Oakley was a famous sharpshooter and Iris’ role model. If she could succeed, then Iris can too! “Your brother put a lot into the bet, y’know.”

“What? What bet?” Iris asked. The man chuckled as he pointed behind her. Iris turned to see a line of people. She was holding up the line. Iris quickly moved out of the way and to the area of the competitors. None of them wanted to be near her nor even acknowledge her existence. Iris never felt more alone than today.

“Iris, you’re up.” Iris looked up to see that all the men have finished their rounds. New boards were added. The rule for this competition was a bit different from others. It was more about accuracy and distance, not typical for a pistol competition. And there were many boards. Most were under 75 yards. However, two were 100 years away. The rule is to choose three targets and shoot them. The further you shot, the higher the points were. Iris wanted to aim for one at 75 yards and two at the 100 yards. She knew she could lose the competition and be ridicule, but when she heard that her brother had put a bet into her. She knew she had to do her best!

“Ok,” Iris said. She walked to the x on the ground. Immediately, she could hear people shouting for her to not even bother. How as a woman, she needed to stay out of men’s sports. Iris felt nervous once again. But, she worked so hard for this! She will not back down! The whistle blew and Iris aimed her pistol at the target at 75 yards.

Bang! The first shot rang. The crowd quiet down as Iris made her next aim. The 100 yard target. People began to shout for her to shoot the other two 75 yard targets. That it would be impossible. Which might be true, even some of the best sharpshooters failed to make good shots at them. She aimed her pistol a bit higher to give the bullet a chance to have some accuracy after 75 yards. Iris took a breathe in and pulled the trigger. Bang! Iris quickly aimed at the second 100 yard target and shot before she could change her mind. The whistle blew. Judges quickly headed to the farthest targets. Iris turned to look at her family, who only shook her head. They didn’t believe in her. Iris looked down. Soon, the judges came back.

“10 points for the 75 yard target. 8 points for one of the 100 yards. For the last 100 yard, 8 points. In total, 26 points!” The judge called out in surprise. Iris whipped her head up to see everyone shocked. Iris had somehow manage to hit the 100 yard targets with great accuracy! Iris smiled. She might win the competition. But then, a judge walked up to her.

“Iris, great job. It takes skills to do what you did today. However, I am not sure how to say this. The… the head of this local game is friends with Roy, so they allowed you to participate as only a participant, not a competitor. Your points will not be added in nor will you be able to receive the winning title,” the judge said. Iris’ eyes widened. So, even if she won, she would not be declared the winner?! Iris pursed her lips and looked down. She wanted to cry. Why is it that she won the competition fair and still she was forced to watch her talent go to waste. Iris nodded and walked away. At the same time, the top three were announced.

“Iris! Iris!” Her mother shouted for her. Iris was so pissed. She did not want to talk to anyone. Soon, her arm was grabbed. It was Roy. Iris yanked her arm away. At this point, tears fell down her face.

“How dare you! How dare you not tell me that I was a participant! I was never even considered a competitor! You lied to me!” Iris screamed. Roy was taken aback by her shouts. Lucy ran up and stood between the two. “Why did you never tell me you and your friends had made a bet on me?! I won that competition fair and sqaure! Yet I couldn’t even receive recognition!”

“Are you stupid?!” Roy shouted. “Why would you? You’re a girl! Did you ever think the local competition would risk losing to you?! You should be glad you even got the chance to be there! Do you know how humilitating it is that you don’t know your place?!” Iris’ eyes widened. Lucy gasped. Their parents shook their head. Roy seemed to suddenly realized what he had said. “I- I’m sorry, Iris.” Iris didn’t stay for the rest of the apology.

Iris couldn’t stop crying. She felt so hurt. No matter what she did, her hobby was just that. She could never actually become a sharpshooter or even a soldier. It was all hopeless dream. Iris grabbed the gun and its holster and threw it into the river. She wouldn’t need it anymore. She turned and walked away. Iris finally realized that if she wanted respect from her family then she needs to become a woman like Lucy. Unbeknowst to her, a figure grabbed the gun and its holster. They looked at it and then back at the young fox walking away.

Note:

Again, I know nothing about guns, so please forgive me for the inaccuracies (I do not represent my country well enough with the lack of knowledge on guns( this is a joke)

Ah, a somewhat long short story here. I never wrote this into her information pages. But for a while, Iris did give up on her shooting skills. She was hurt by a lot of things and this was the final straw. Eventually, she got her pistol back. But, she never knew who had returned it to her as she just found it on her bed. She did still continue to go target shooting, but Iris traveled up to the mountains to do that. So, her family and peers had no idea where she disappeared off to.

The family's relationship was a mess for the next three years. But as Iris grew up, she just began to want to forget the past and move on. She felt guilty that no one could talk to one another because of her. She learned to sew, cook, and basic first aid from her mom. And it was because of this that they thought Iris had grown out of her phase. They never expected her to run off to join the army when she was 20. Despite that, they receive many letters from Iris. One where she confessed to her secret trips to the mountains and her feelings about everything.

By the way, Roy got yelled at by the whole family who believed he went too far. Like, they all did agree that Iris' dream was unrealistic, but they believed she would grow out of it. So, to suddenly say all of that was ridiculous. Lucy had even slapped him. Roy did feel guilty, so when she ran off, he blamed himself for it. But, he is happy to see her living out her dreams. Iris did send out a letter specifically to him to say she forgave him. However, Roy couldn't forgive himself.

Btw: Annie Oakley is a famous female sharpshooter from the 1800s. The thing is, women owning guns seemed to have been an accepted thing in society. But, when it came to sports or the army, it wasn't as well accepted. Lucy is a nurse for the army but remains in their country since she is really only there for check ups.

[user211201]

Gnarly Tides

--- Originally posted by ZacharyEverlust before 2018-08-22 ---

--- Note: Pokémon Gym Leader TF ---

We are back at the same location! Same place, same time, same method! Well slightly different one, a tweaked version of what will happen to the fellow victim from the previous story. Only this time, its from the OTHER soon to be-surfer's perspective. As such, the story starts off with his perspective. Seran, being called here by his friend, Baikoha, via text.

Dude you've gotta check this out!

I'm having a blast with Swimming! Coach wants you to tag along!

Bring your goggles along too man!

Obviously, knowing his friend, its totally odd that he would post a message like that. Baikoha didn't want to attend Sports Week much less enjoy those "swimming lessons". Not to mention he actually complained about it yesterday at his dorm...

Seran walked towards the open pool, letting his really long brown hair down as he gazed over the line of participants for this year's "Jockification Week", or so what people described. 'They turned guys and girls into jocks, full of school spirit and cocky bravado!' was apparently what some people described what happened to their friends...how farfetched, well, aside the fact that even his own friend posted that weird message back to him.

The invited-teen peered over for his friend for a few moments, unable to find him. Probably already in the pool by then, Seran assumed, scratching his growing beard down below his lip. The thin-lanky man has to be at the beach in about an hour from now, skipping out an hour's worth of sleep to originally bail with him so they could dodge sports week together, though his friend's apparent change of heart as shown in his message...it was weird, really weird.

Probably at this moment, Seran's mind wondered even more about those Jockification rumors he'd heard from the other newbies. "What if they were true?" Was the first stereotypical soon-to-be-victim thought anyone would have. He recalled the goggles he and his friend discussed yesterday, him being the lucky person that received a limited edition "Marlon & Brawly branded goggles." To his surprise, the other pair was inside the gift box that was laid in his doorstep this very morning!

To be honest, it looks awfully strange, with shiny plastic lenses and their sides being being labelled with the numbers 1-2-3-4-5. Coloured completely black with shiny orange lenses. He wanted to go and tell his friend about this too, though it'd be better just to surprise him. Right?- SPLASH!-Wow some douchebag splashed water on him---SHONE!--"WHA--?"

He sensed the sides of the goggles glowing, sending pulsating charges to the lenses as they glowed a bright orange, shining brightly as though its a conjoined process. Glowing and overwhelmings strongly on the inside of the lens, past the helpless victim's past through the corners of his brain, touching the commands and subjects that make a person-them.

"ARGH! My eyes--huh?" Like an enormous tidal wave that's about to wash over a helpless surfer, he felt like his body became paralyzed in a millisecond, as though he was no more in control. HANG TEN! Was the signal the flashed in his brain, the only thing he could focus on the inside whilst observing the pool's water dripping down from his skin--?

Brawler's Stance!

His thought shifted momentarily, the number 5 engraved on the side of the goggles faded away as this happened. His fists clenched, as his body brought itself to an iconic fighting position, one that's familiar in a game remake. With feet firmly rooted to the ground, squats strongly standing apart and fists brought close to his chest.

SOMEBODY HELP ME! He thought loudly to himself, unable to open his mouth aside forming a huge cocky-like smile that was unlike him, eye brows furrowed oddly , if anyone took notice of him, he would look like a mix of an odd statue and a young man looking for a fight. Although...he didn't fit the part of a fighter just yet, needing an appropriate body to support the current position he is in--

SPLASH!

"NOT AGAIN!" He shouted. The Second tide came in, as a swimming gave a powerful dive from the diving board. Drowning Seran's clothes and his chest from the inside even further. A Drenched white T-shirt and brown khaki shorts, with plain looking sandals. This certainly did not match the goggles he is current matching, and that is about to change as the number 4 faded away next.

PUMP IT UP!

WHOA! He watched his body rise up even higher with a dose of electrolytes, goggles converting pool water to salt water as it gave a dose full of a lifetime's worth of minerals to the body. Aging several years as his height went up with it, with even longer legs and arms, a body that's as tall as any other typical sportsman that can be seen in sight.

Bathed in an appropriate amount of UV rays from the sun, his body crusted into a perfect moderate-brownish Hawaiian tan, like its a result of time and dedication. With his body being at a prime at his early twenties, yet feeling really uncomfortable underneath the clothes he's currently wearing, like it wasn't his style, like he deserved something better--

WOW! The next thought came up, as he watched as his clothes physically re-materialize by themselves right before the goggles covering his very eyes-- RUBBER! Starting with the feet, as the base of the sandals dyed themselves a strong orange, and black rubber soaked itself over the top.

Escalating hugely, they grew larger than the size of his foot as they reached a decent L-size. Bottom becoming rubber like the top, with the strap too becoming part of the design and turning orange as well. Five circles appeared where the toes should be and two black rolled loops appeared at his ankles, though the whole new wet-shoes get-up barely fit him.

The same treatment can be said about the rest of the attire as it went up, clothes now barely fitting and staying on him due to the L-size of the clothes, only thanks to the tight-fitting quality of wet-attire were why they were able to still stick onto his thin bod.

With Khaki shorts morphing themselves blue with waterproof threads as they wrap loosely around his waist, sky blue boarder shorts only on due to the current "stance" he's made into. A plain generic T-shirt gaining originality as they rediscovered cool typical sports patterns sufficing from his chest and trailing from on shoulder to another.

Those patterns turned a familiar pure orange as the rest of the shirt turned into a sporty black. Bringing out a cool and manly side out of the wearer. The sportier shirt hugged tightly to his skin as they turned into a waterproof-skin tight fabric, seemingly rubberized. A loop suffices around the top of his shirt, below his neck and similar to the ones of his wet-shoes.

With that being said, the last changes formed at his fists as the surfer influence touched his hands. Black covering his fists as they turned into orange at the top, with the same loop down at his wrists. Forming Brawler-like slash Surfer wet gloves for those who enjoy diving into the ocean from time to time, and with the current status of his body, it seemed as they just enjoyed anything water sports related, especially surfing--

SPLASH!!!!

"DUDE! THIS IS NOT COOL BRAH---?!" The man complained, vocabulary "Oh man! I haven't even bulked up yet---!" He realized that, with it being the next stage as the number 3 faded too.

IT'S WORKOUT TIME!

His brain thought, feeling his fists clenching even harder as veins bulge toughly from his arms. Watching them firm up as they do their years of training hard, growing to a sizable size as those knuckles nicely fit the gloves like a proud brawler.

The power and energy moved up to his shoulders, expanding them wide and steady as a result of surfing for over a decade, body posture and balance maintaining his strong figure. With a hefty lean-muscular chest supporting his front with tanned pecs and chiseled abs showing his status as a gym instructor, and a gym leader.

Legs tanking out, with calves steadying and fitting the boarder shorts like he liked it. Butt rounding and firming up, jutting out simultaneously with his feet as they filled in their entire wet-shoes. His attire completely suiting his powerful physique, like he deserved it.

"Man! This is great and all!" The soon to be hundred percent Surfer man spoke. "This like totally caused a storm of astonishment to my system! Oh man! But like..."

SPLASHHHH!

"HAHA! Wow! Again with the waves dude!" With water entering his system, cleansing his throat and tonsils, refilling the surfer lingo that he ever most desires with an attractive, chill and a totally radical voice that didn't cared much about intelligence." Gnarly Voice man...AWESOME!"

HANG TEN DUDE!

"Wicked!" An overwhelming surge of confidence and resolve shone in his face. Teeth as white and strong as a Sharpedo's, a smile evolved to a fearless confident grin. Angular Jaw being a sticker to the personality that crashes tides and oceans with his surfboard.

"I LOVE this dude! Can't get enough of it!" Hair spiking at the back, maintaining themselves like an in-bred style that suits him. Blasted away with Sky Blue like his boarder shorts, totally radical as they held spiked in place, bangs free. Facial features chilling with the breeze blowing against his forehead, ears wide open, nostrils filled with the scent of the sea, black sharp eyebrows boldly representing his self-assurance, his power, and his passion for what he does.

"And it just gets better and BETTER!"

"SPLASHHHHHHHHHH!"

"WHOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Fully lost in the Ocean, the new man awoke. With the number 5 completely fading away, he understood the hang ten quality within him and embraced the tide. With outstretched arms voluntarily breaking past any gnarly paralysis, and a body standing tall and firm as water poured down on him.

His goggles glowed and allowing the sun rays reflecting of the pool's surface to bask him with all the thoughts that he needed. Goggles taking on their true form as they tinted themselves as pure orange shades, with black sides supporting his coolness.

"Yo! Brawly! Sup!" Marlon raised his hand. HI-FIVE "Hey Man! Totally drenched me over here! Haha!" He laughed.

Lifting up the shades, revealing two piercing light blue eyes that shredded killer waves. He understood who he is, and how couldn't he? Being the Former Gym Leader of Dewford City's Gym, churned in the rough waves while pumping in the gym and toughening up in a pitch-black cave.

Now the Captain of The University's Water Sports Group, and yet another carefree Surfer Jock who loves nothing more than being in the water, Brawly takes his stance.

With his buddy Marlon by his side, being the fierce competitors and the greatest of friends back when they met in orientation. Rooming up like the bros they are, and having being given their own special goggles together by the higher-ups as a reward for being one of the best pairs in their category. The Ocean. Though his was definitely cooler since it could transform back and forth between his trusty shades and goggles with a button at the back. How awesome is that?

With their knowledge of the ocean, surfing as well as a healthy match of Pokemon battles and tons of working out. With Marlon and Brawly taking the lead in The school's Swimming/Water Polo and Dynamic Surfers Teams respectively, The Captains of the University's Water Sports Group were unstoppable together.

"Dude! Race you to the top of the diving board." Marlon swam. "Oh yeah? Well I'm gonna wipe you down man!" Brawly jumped in and swam right after him.

The two of them made their way to the diving board.

"Hey Man! Watch this--I'm gonna make--!"

"A Bigger Splash Than The Sea!"

SPLASH!

"Dude, that's nothing. Don't forget, I'm--!"

"A Big Wave In Fighting!"

SPLASH!

[justsimpingforawhile]

(Warning : bad english)

Hi, how are u? Hope u're doin' fine. So I have a request about Valen x Fem!Merlin. They're finally going to a small walk to spend time together because Merlin returned from her adventure. And also, I'd want a moment where Fem!Merlin shapeshifted into a fox (or any other small animal) to relax on Valen's shoulders. And as u know, I want it to be platonic :)

Helloooo! I'm being a little careless when it comes to Valen, I'm sorry about that, but I hope I don't stray from his personality this time.

I want to make it clear that this one shot takes place before the Chains of Eternity season and after Waves of Intrigue. There is a space of one week between one event and another.

────┈┈┈┄┄���╌╌╌┄┄┈┈┈────

Finally home, you could hardly believe it when you walked through the gates of Holistone. After your adventures in the Desert and Rustport, all you wanted was a little rest before traveling again. Walking towards the statue of the goddess Dura in the city center, you notice Valen's presence in front of the palace. He sees you too, and waves from afar.

It had been a long time since you had seen each other, months in fact, the last time you were actually together was when you were investigating the Adamantine Syndicate's cursed grapes. To be honest, you guys never had any fun time together outside of a mission.

— Hey, Valen! What's up? — You wave to him as you approach.

— Merlin! What a surprise you haven't been on any of your adventures so far, haha.

— Good thing, I don't want to venture out too soon. What are you doing away from your post?

— Hogan finally had mercy and gave me a break, now I have the whole weekend to rest. Want to go to a restaurant for lunch? On Hogan's tab, of course.

— You don't have to use his account for everything, I can pay for both of us.

— Don't spoil the fun Merlin, I can resolve this after.

— You'll just end up getting into more trouble.

Valen just laughs, rolling his eyes, he was already used to it (Hogan too), so having any problems was his last concern. The restaurant wasn't that far away, it was just a short walk to get there, anyway it wouldn't take them long. The streets were a little empty today, there was a bit of movement here and there, but nothing like what it was a few months ago. Of course, there were cases of hypodemons and hypogeans on the loose, not to mention the festival in a neighboring kingdom that attracts people from all corners of Esperia, they were probably traveling to the festival which starts in a few weeks.

— I heard you're going to the festival in Cedartown, I would like to go too, but my time off doesn't cover the whole festival.

— Are there no Heroic Order infiltrators in Cedartown?

— Hogan sent one or two, but they didn't infiltrate. I think he'll send more, but I certainly won't be the lucky one.

— It would be fun with you there.

— Do I make your adventures fun? Haha.

— Hey! Go ahead and misunderstand me.

With a sigh, a weight fell onto Valen's left shoulder. It was a small yellow bird, like the many in Esperia, but this one in particular was just Merlin disguised as a bird.

— Did you turn into a bird?

— Yes, you made me feel ashamed. — Merlin's voice came out like an echo from the bird.

— Ooh, okay, okay, sorry about that, I won't do it again.

Valen raises his hands as if he was surrendering to something, he had his provocative way deep down, he wouldn't stop doing that under any circumstances. Merlin knew this, she knew him well enough to know he was a bastard.

— I'm serious! Don't believe me? Argh, what is this?

The weight on Valen's shoulder went from being subtle to becoming a bit more uncomfortable. The weight of the paws dug into his back and heat radiated down one side of his cheek, with soft, downy fur.

— Have you turned into a fox now?

— Yes, I'm serious now. Actually, I'm just lazy, I want to rest.

— On my shoulder?!

— Why not? Are you going to use your shoulders now?

— Gosh, Hogan told me you were silly, but he didn't tell me you were that silly.

— Haha, sorry for acting like this, it's been a long time since I interacted like a friend spending time with a friend. Ever since I woke up from the coma... It's all been so strange. — Merlin, in his fox form, lowers her ears and whimpers.

— I can't even imagine what it's like, but well, I'll be here if you need help or a good meal. — Valen chuckles and pats the fox's head on his shoulder, feeling a small wag of its tail against his back.

— Haha, thanks. Are we there yet?.

— Yes, it's around the corner. If I were you, I'd turn back into a human, I think the restaurant owner doesn't allow foxes.

— Too bad, foxes are cute.

The weight then disappears from Valen's shoulder and Merlin appears in front of him. She turns to him with a playful smile and pats his shoulder to clear the fur that have stuck to it.

— Let's go? I don't want to wait in line. — She asked.

— Come on, I want to show you an amazing drink they have at the restaurant.

The pair went on their way, entered the restaurant and stayed there for the rest of the day. It was just what Merlin needed after such hectic months.

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A/N: I loved the idea, it was a great way to try to improve my dialogues, since I have some difficulty with that. I also liked that there was a mention of foxes and I find them very interesting!!!!! I will restrain myself because this is not a blog about biology lol.

Btw, I hope you like it, sorry for the delay. It's a bit complicated to keep writing with such a busy routine.

[deadgirlwalking91]

Dirty ask coming right up!

What scenario(s) do you think would be a big turn on for each half of guitarspear? 😈 (Bonus points for something unexpected/unusual!!)

I knew you'd come through with the goods 😈 answers below!

Lute - sex in public. Given her impulsive, competitive nature she'd be up for the thrill of not getting caught, especially considering it's with Adam. Sure, she's not keen on the idea of her co workers knowing the true extent of her relationship with Adam, but that doesn't mean she won't push the boundaries as much as possible. I'm talking sex in their office, after training, at work-related events. She'd get off on how risky it is - she prefers for Adam to take control in the bedroom. She's this hardass, switched on 24/7, 'I don't need anybody' bitch in the streets, but in the sheets she is happy to sit back and be c o m p l e t e l y taken care of. Her favourite? When Adam's face is between her thighs and her hands are all tangled in his hair - anybody else think she'd be really open to experimenting with sex toys or is it just me? - however, circling back to my point re Adam taking control, I think she'd have her sporadic moments where she wants to take charge. And when she does, she is fucking unstoppable - and I think seeing Adam turned on by that turns her on too - they'd also 100% fuck nasty post-extermination. No shower, she probably doesn't even take her blood-stained uniform off, they're both still so fuelled by adrenaline they just go at it as soon as they return to Heaven. Who knows, they've probably fucked in Hell, too

- she'd also be very fucking loud Adam - he screams 'morning sex' to me. I don't know why. I can just picture him waking up and being ready to go right away. But more slow, lazy morning sex as opposed to railing Lute every other time - those rare times where Lute takes control in the bedroom drive him w i l d

- he's probably into a bit of ass play (both giving and receiving). I just think he's open to experimenting and tbh would probably like it

- he'd be into role play for suuuuure, especially those that lean into power dynamics

I HAVE TO WRAP THIS UP NOW BECAUSE I'M ABOUT TO STEP INTO A MEETING ARGH but this was SO MUCH FUN!!!! If anybody else has any dirty asks, inbox is open!

[alpineshift]

sorry i was scrolling back thru ur asks and saw u mention a jacknico college campus crush au…. do u have any further thoughts on how they would meet if jack went to uni 👀

ohhh campus crush jacknico!!

I can offer up some options!!

"In every universe we'll find each other doing the exact same thing" - they meet on a hockey team lmfao

Because it's so so convenient. Jack was always destined to go into hockey and in this verse he decides to follow in Quinn's footsteps and happily goes to college with his older brother. I'm not super duper familiar with the Swiss education system but I'm envisioning Nico transferring over and even though he's older he starts school in the same year as Jack. They're rookies on the hockey team together and the become the bonded rookie pair and it's all eyes on them because that's Quinn Hughes' younger brother and that's Nico Hischier the hot European student but meanwhile jacknico are crushing on each other. Thinking the other is the campus crush who definitely won't like them back bc they're too cool. Featuring copious amounts of time spent working out and admiring each other, house parties where they get close but not too close, trying to balance hockey life and school life and being in loveeeee--argh!

"Classic jock and nerd set up bc even though we're not in high school anymore we are still very capable of failing classes" - one of them tutors the other

In honour of my love for Jack's big brain and his 20+ book count a year he's the highest-ranked student in his program in this verse. Maybe in business or statistics or management or something. He seems like a logical kinda guy to me. And Nico, who's not a bad student at all, just happens to need tutoring because he really, really doesn't get this one particular class. They get matched up completely by chance and it's not quite crush at first sight, because Jack is kinda wary of the jock-type and Nico is a bit intimidated by how aloof Jack is, but the warm up to each other pretty quick and soon they're getting along like a house on fire. Because the best part is, Jack is also an incredibly good athlete--he's just too busy stockpiling extra credit courses to join any sports teams. And Nico is smart--he just needs a better study technique. Plenty of late night study seshs in the library and walking each other back to their dorms while sneaking looks at each other while the other is distracted in this verse.

"Missed connections, except we're both treating the campus forum like our personal text messages and the admins are about to ban us both so let's figure out a way to meet" - falling in love over the absurdity of campus life

Jack and Nico have never lived a normal day in this verse, because that's exactly how they catch each other's attention on campus. Nico's sitting in an upstairs study room when he sees his really handsome guy sprinting across the quad being chased by a furious horde of geese and kind of gets heart eyes with the way his hair shines in the sun as he's running for his life. Jack's waiting for the bus on a particularly windy day and sees a TA run straight into the campus pond bc the elastic around his assignments broke and everything scattered into the water and he has to physically close his jaw when the man merges from the pond with a white t-shirt clinging to his chest and abs. And the flood gates open from there. Hey - you were the guy with the beautiful blue eyes that walked out of the campus cafe and immediately got your croissant snatched out of your hands by a seagull. If you want to hang out, I'll definitely buy you another one. Okay - you were the handsome guy doing your best to put a raincoat over your suit and avoided the puddles in your dress shoes during that storm (presentation or something, bud?) only for a delivery truck to drive by and splash you from head to toe. If we meet, I'll hold the umbrella up for you. Each post gets thousands of likes and the admin is begging them to just find a the least dangerous starbucks in town to meet in at this point.