#it was a pretty short chapter

[iheartcanute]

NEW VINLAND CHAPTER IS OUTTTTT!!!!

[omegasmileyface]

im so fucked up. theres a scene in The Restaurant at the End of the Universe (the sequel to hitchhikers guide) where zaphod is rummaging through the ruins of a long-destroyed city on a lifeless, abandoned planet, looking for a way off, and he stumbles upon the crumbling remains of a spaceport, and miraculously one of the crafts is still intact, and there's still a quiet hum of power going into it from a connected cable, and it's making a quiet noise. so he rigs up a makeshift stethoscope and listens, and there's a PA system saying something like "we are very sorry for the delay. we are currently waiting for a restocking on lemon-soaked towlettes, for your hygienic and culinary pleasure. in the meantime, we will be serving coffee and biscuits on the deck." and he finds the remains of the arrivals/deparetures board, translates the dates and does a little math, and discovers the delay has been 900 years. spooky, yeah? but he goes on the ship, hoping he can get it flying, and it's perfectly well-functioning and an android flight attendant comes out and tries to force him to sit in the seating area, continuing to apologize for the delay. and when he gets to the seating area, every seat has a person in it. long-haired, long-nailed, and completely silent, but very much alive. and another android comes out with a tray of coffee and cookies, and all of the people wake up and start screaming in agony as she gives them their snacks. zaphod is terrified, so he runs to the control deck and locks the door behind him, and he finds the autopilot computer, which repeatedly tells him to return to the seating area, and he eventually convinces it to talk to him. "have you seen the planet?" he says, or something to that general effect. "there's no civilization! you're not GETTING a lemon-soaked napkin shipment!" and the autopilot says "the most likely path to us receiving our shipment is to wait until another civilization develops on the planet and they can deliver it. so we have put the passengers in suspended animation, and we wake them up once a year for coffee." and then? and then zaphod's friend who he was looking for shows up and the plot carries on and they don't say another word about the ship (at least, as far as i know from my place a couple chapters later). thats it. some classic Space Horror Of Grand Proportions, a doctor who plot, a twilight zone plot, an scp article, an asimov short story— that, when a ship ran out of a luxury amenity and didn't get it fulfilled quickly, the autopilot ai decided that, regardless of plentiful fuel and safety, the ideal way to deal with the situation is to suspend the lives of all of the passengers, waking them up once a year, until a new civilization could evolve around them to produce napkins— and it takes up about two pages total before being put aside completely!

[buwheal]

Unexpected but fair.

How long were we disconnected?

[carpisuns]

chapters: 21/21

Summary: Adrien’s favorite color used to be orange. Until Marinette.

An Adrinette fic with short, drabble-y chapters all involving the color pink

21. marinette

“Okay.” With a flourish, she finishes the swirl on the last cupcake and stands back. “Not bad, right?”

She wipes at her forehead with the back of her hand, leaving a tiny smudge of pink frosting behind. A lock of dark hair has escaped from her bun, threading down her shoulder.

“Adrien?” she prompts again. “What do you think?”

“You’re amazing,” he says.

Her lips twist into a smile. “I meant about the cupcakes.”

“Hmm. Let’s see.” He picks one up and raises it to his lips.

“Hey!” She tries to snatch it away, but Adrien has already stuffed the entire thing in his mouth.

“Too slow,” he says, cheeks puffed and voice muffled around a mouthful of vanilla and cherry.

Marinette puts her hands on her hips. “That was supposed to be for Rose’s party.”

He manages to swallow. “I’m sure she’ll survive with only nine hundred ninety-nine cupcakes instead of a thousand. Besides, don’t you want to hear my verdict?”

“Fine. How are they?”

Gently, he settles his hands on her waist. “Amazing. Because you made them. And everything you do is amazing, milady.”

She allows him to draw her closer, till there’s hardly any space left between them. “If you’re trying to be suave, it’s not working. You have frosting on your mouth.”

“Well, feel free to have a taste test.”

She huffs a laugh. “You’re so annoying.”

“Oh, bugaboo. It’s pronounced ‘alluring.’”

“Cut it out with the bugaboos and miladys. You’re gonna give your identity away, and then Master Fu really will take our miraculous.”

He brings his face close to hers, so that their noses are almost touching. “He could never. You heard him. We’re the perfect partners. The dream team.”

She glances at his lips. “That’s … that's not what he said.”

“Close enough.”

He closes the gap between them, capturing her lips with his. Her arms come up to drape around his shoulders, and his own arms tighten around the small of her back.

"Adrien," she murmurs, sighing against his mouth. Then her lips slant against his again, and he’s lost in her.

Marinette is his favorite person, and pink is his favorite color.

Pink like pastries and cotton candy and bubble gum.

Pink like the frosting she kisses from his lips. Like her hands in his hair and his name on her breath. Like her cherry-blossom cheeks and her sunrise smile.

Pink like her heart, in perfect sync with his.

“I love you,” he whispers.

She pulls back, studying his face, like she’s committing it to memory. Her eyes are bright and focused—the way they are when she’s trying to figure out her lucky charm. Like she’s somehow looking at him and in him and through him, all at once.

“I love you too,” she says (pink, like a rose), and the words are washed in red.

They’re the same color, really. He knows that now. Tints of the exact same hue. Ladybug was always pink, and Marinette was always red, and now, with all the pieces drawn together, he can finally recognize all the shades that make her up—from crimson to coral, scarlet to strawberry, and everything in between.

She pulls him back in, lips warm against his, and he can feel her dye him from the inside out, all her colors bleeding through him till his very bones are stained with them. Till he feels them singing through his veins and swelling in his lungs. Till he feels like he might burst with it—his favorite color, the color of her heart.

Love is pink, and so is Marinette.

[demaparbat-hp]

For the Spirits— Chapter VII: Take Me South

Take me south when it's the time

Pour me away like golden wine

I'll form a splash and it will dry

But in the shape of you

—Pure You by Nothing But Thieves

.

Yume placed her hands on her hips and took a step forward. “That I do, yet I can't help but wonder about the timing. Heading South, seeking information on the Tribes…it's all very sudden, don't you think?”

The folded parchment hidden under his vest suddenly seemed to hold the weight of the world. Zuko placed a hand on his chest, where the sketch rested just above his heart. He stared thoughtfully at the floor.

Why now, indeed?

[queenlua]

When Tibarn calls for the bird tribes to unite as one nation in Serenes, Reyson is skeptical, and Naesala refuses outright. But when rising ocean levels threaten to devour the islands of both Phoenicis and Kilvas, none of them have much of a choice in the matter.

This fic is now finished at ~138k words!

If any of these pithy/snarky summaries sound good to you...

"the bird tribes should've had a Hague, probably"

"Naesala has a bad time & then Reyson has a bad time & then they make each other worse <3"

"Leanne gets a fucking gun knife"

...there's a decent chance you'll enjoy this story; take a peek :)

(Also: peep the latest chapters for some beautiful new @gloamvonhrym art <3333 THANK YOU FOR ALL THE BIRDPEOPLE VISUAL SPLENDOR)

[thebiggestfuckgiven]

How I DIDN’T Become a Villain…

ch.1 piece

•

“Wow,” Danny commented with his mouth full. “You managed to get a shit ton of stuff done. Good thing no one walked in for hours.”

“Dude, first off, nice manners,” Ray said sarcastically, the left corner of his lip lifting with the tone. “Second, shut the fuck up. I keep telling you, you’re gonna jinx us.”

Danny snorted, swallowing the food in his mouth.

“C’mon, nothing’s gonna—"

Ding-ding-ding.

Danny froze like a deer in headlights. Ray, on the other hand, threw his hands up with an exasperated sound before bringing them down loudly against his thighs. He turned his head to direct a glare that screamed I told you so, pointing aggressively at the out-of-sight entrance.

Danny raised his hands in surrender, eyebrows high. He was about to defend himself when a shudder ran down his spine. His body tensed instinctively, chest tightening in anticipation of that familiar cold. It never came. A deep unease settled in his chest instead. He fought down that fight-or-flight adrenaline that was flooding him, trying to push him into unnecessary action. His eyes widened at the feeling. One he hadn’t felt in years.

He clenched his fists that were still in the air and physically shook the feeling off. Ray let his death glare drop to raise his eyebrows at him questioningly.

“Uh, you okay?”

Other than feeling twitchy all over and like someone stomped on my grave?

“Yeah, peachy.” He cringed at the croak in his voice. “Just shivers. The usual.”

[an-abyss-of-stars]

𖤓 Don't You Dare Do This Without Me 𖤓 Ch. 2

Pairing: Rhaena x Aemond

Warnings: None for this chapter

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Rhaena discovers what her husband flew off to do in lieu of laying abed with her...

.

Ch. 1 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ao3

—

With careful fingers, Rhaena plucked the small parchment scroll from the page and thanked the younger boy. Closing the door behind her, she broke the seal...pale orange wax, it looked to belong to a minor house, one she scarcely recognized. The symbol of a small sun perched in the top left corner of the wax seal, a triangular etched beam beneath it. 

A small noble House, but which one? 

Tentatively, she cracked the seal. Allowed her eyes to begin scanning the crooked ink script, it seemed to have been written in a rush as opposed to poor penmanship. Yet as she read on…her eyes slowly widened with horror. 

{Your royal Highness, Queen Consort, Rhaena Targaryen.

It is our expressed hope to inform you...}

She skimmed past the pleasantries. 

{...Vhagar was seen soaring above the valley. Following the river Red Fork,

her flames were seen to have left unimaginable devastation to the small village of Oxcross,

just over the plains...}

For fucksake, by the will of the Gods...not this again! 

He’s burned yet another village!

“Aemond, you blasted,” Rhaena had to catch her tongue, muttering to herself as she read on. 

Fucking, Gods- 

"NO, DAEMIE!! You do not eat a dragon! Dragons are not eaten by people. They chomp animals and fly! And breathe FIRE!! See! You're doing it wrong!" Aemon's squeals trailed off across the room as Rhaena still worked to digest the words written. Her eyes flickered up from the scroll only to ensure that her son's were still behaving. 

At two and twenty, she'd mastered the act of multitasking motherhood and her Queenly duties. 

She could see Elaya had plopped the young babe down upon the carpet with Aemon, allowing Daemion to crawl over towards the polished wood carved dragon figurines. Where he was currently attempting to gum and suckle upon one of Aemon's favourites. A little figurine of the great Black Dread himself, Balerion. Rhaena could see from the corner of her eyes that Aemon was prone to the fits of rage. Ever a particular little boy at times, surely an inherited trait, he was growing upset with the way his babe of a brother was interacting with his game. 

Yet even still, all things considered, her children were safe, well cared for and soon enough they could be sent to their nursery. The time was quickly approaching for their much needed afternoon rest. It was something that they often did together after Aemon's lessons, for as much as his brother bothered him at times, he still so loved to nap with his baby brother by his side.

That, however was a thought for later, as Rhaena's pale lilac eyes couldn't help but scan over the missive once more:

{...Though a rebellion was duly squashed in the area two weeks prior, many here wonder what could have earned the King's wrath.

The devastation is immense. We beg of you, our Queen. The people are desperate, we need your interference.}

Signed Lord Rallor Lefford of the Golden Tooth. 

A small inconsequential noble House to be sure, but a noble House nonetheless. It was not squarely their land that was burned, but as far as Rhaena knew the lay of that particular region of land. They would be the closest noble House to benefit from the taxes of the villagers there. 

Well done, Aemond. 

Fucking—class work there.

With a quick glance upon the unfurled maps left upon their rounded table, Rhaena could follow the river Red Fork and see exactly where her husband had gone. The village of Oxcross itself probably held nothing more than farmers and livestock dealers. But it was close enough to the city of Lannisport, perhaps a few days' ride away…which then made it rather close to Casterly Rock. 

The Lannisters may have words for this destruction. 

Then again, perhaps it was the Lannister’s own fault they’d allowed a revolt to brew right beneath their noses just a few weeks prior. In truth, Rhaena could care less about the traitorous House. They’d only sided with Aegon and the Greens to begin with, solely because Aegon was a man. And with that, they thought there was a promising future for one of their daughters to replace Helaena as Queen after she’d passed. And once that conclusion was forgone, they’d hoped to marry one of their own to Aemond as well…before he’d chosen Rhaena for himself.

They were forever reaching wretchedly above their station…

But that did not matter, her own personal feelings for House Lannister did not matter. What did matter was the realm was still working to pull itself back together after the devastation caused from the Dance of the Dragons . A rather glorious name for a war that only caused loss and pain...wasted spilt blood. And yet, here her husband was fanning the flames with unnecessary acts of force and violence. 

And sure, Rhaena knew husband to be a fickle man, he could be ever so petty. Ever so cruel and unfeeling at times. The lives of those who were stationed beneath them barely interested him at all, especially the lives of the smallfolk at times. For, while Aemond had surely feigned interest in them during the war and in the aftermath of it. It was still a falsehood, time had waned and his true nature had been made evident. 

If the mood struck him...he'd spill as much blood as needed to satiate the urge. 

‘Ondoso se Jaes’ by the Gods , Rhaena sighed heavily to herself, all she could do was pray and hope that neither of her sons would ever grow to be the same. As unfeeling of lesser folks, as eager to douse themselves in the blood of their victims…volatile as their sire. 

Although, as she made her way towards the chaise by the fire she couldn't ignore the intensifying agitation coursing through her eldest son at that very moment. He'd crawled over to Daemion only to shove him rather unnecessarily as he snatched the Balerion figurine directly out of the babe's hand. Clearly fed up with his favoured figure being used as a teething toy. Only the moment he had done it, her chubby little babe took a moment to observe his empty hand before bursting into tears. Screaming bloody murder as his little face turned red, a flood of tears tumbling down his pudgy cheeks. 

Lovely.

Just lovely.

Everything just kept piling on.

"Aemon," Rhaena had groaned her son's name as she moved towards them, displaying her maternal instincts as she placed the missive down upon the mantle before reaching down. Cradling her youngest to her chest, securing his cheek against her bosom as she rocked him gently, hoping to calm his emotions with the warmth of her embrace. Although, the small weight of her babe pressing against her chest, only helped to remind her of the sore pressure. She was sure her breasts were growing dangerously full yet again, within the hour she would leak through her gown. Though that was an issue to handle later on, for now, she pressed warm kisses to the youngest son’s forehead. Swaying him as she eyed her eldest, "you cannot strike your brother when he annoys you so, we've been over this. You must be far more gentle with him, he's still only a babe, you could really harm him." 

A sound amount of chastising as far as Rhaena was concerned, though it would seem her three-year-old took her words quite personally. He'd started to pout, his brows furrowing as he peered up towards his mother. Nibbling upon his lower lip in a near mirror image to the way Rhaena often nibbled on her own. 

She supposed.. .he'd inherited more from her than she gave him credit for. 

"B-but...but mama," Aemon had started breathing rapidly, his small chest heaving as he tried to find his words. Glancing over at Elaya, his beloved wet-nurse, she only bestowed upon him a kind encouraging smile. She had no authority over Rhaena, her sovereign, and the young woman had no wish to interject. As was her right, it was not her concern. 

But Aemon, he wanted someone on his side. 

Rhaena knew that look, she'd seen it often enough ever since Daemion had entered the world. Aemon adored the idea of having a sibling, he just disliked sharing the things he cherished the most. And that came in droves, whether it was his favourite toys…or even his parents at times. 

"Mama, he... it's not fair," he finally huffed, crossing his arms. 

Sweet thing, he'd given up so soon. 

Now, she did wish to hear his side of things, even though she was certain she already knew it. If Aemond had been present, he would have brushed past the pouting of their eldest son and zeroed in on the aftermath of it. The aggression he'd shown. He wouldn't have disciplined their child for it, per se, but his lecture would have hinged on the act and not the source of the matter. 

Rhaena, however, wanted her child to feel heard. As Daemion calmed and settled himself against her chest, softly cooing as he suckled his thumb. She kissed the crown of his head, his soft curly pale hair brushed her lips as she shifted her hold of him. Freeing one of her hands so that she could summon Aemon to her, "come here, sweet one," her voice shimmered softly. 

Proving to her son that he was not in any real trouble, she just wanted him close. And that was all it took really, Aemon's pale eyes stared up at her for only a moment before he began to carefully push himself up to his feet. His little legs only stumbling once before he hugged himself directly against Rhaena's leg. Pressing his cheek against her thigh as she placed a hand upon his head, holding his other cheek as she sighed, "come, let's walk to the nursery and you can tell me your side of things on the way, hmm?" 

It was such a powerful thing, to feel his little chest rise and lower with the heaviest little sigh he could muster. To feel Daemion’s steadied little lungs work against her. To think she'd created these little boys, she'd helped to bring them into the world and now here they were existing within it. 

Aemon nodded against her, looking up at her again with his lips twisting towards another pout, "okay...but he was doing it wrong. I didn’t mean to hit him…I didn't want him to...he was slobbering on my toys, mama. My Bawerian!" his pale indigo eyes had turned glassy and tearful. His cheeks flushing red, the tip of his nose burned the same colour as he sniffled. 

Although...'slobbering', that was impressive in itself. 

That was a new word for him to use in regular conversation. Even more so when considering he felt quite emotional at the moment. 

It was hard sometimes, being a mother, the fact that Rhaena found herself feeling genuinely proud that her babe's vocabulary was growing quite naturally. But to also have the wherewithal to know that it was not something he'd care to have acknowledged at this moment. So she found herself actively biting back a grin, ruffling her son's hair instead as she nodded. Fixing her expression to offer something far more sympathetic, "and that's quite understandable, darling. It really is, and I'm sure if Daemion was a bit older and understood that, he wouldn't have put your figurine in his mouth."

It seemed her words did not offer much in the way of comfort as Aemon's pout only set further. His little hands still clutching onto her velvety silk skirts, his adorable little disgruntled expression clearly demanded something be done for his inconvenience. Because as it were, his frown was turning into a full blown fret. 

Unfortunately, Rhaena did not have the time to placate him so. Smoothly as she could manage, she rubbed soothing circles upon his back as she guided him out into the hall with her. With Elaya treading along behind them, the two stationed guards followed them as they made their way to the nursery. 

"Ziry iksos mirre paktot, byka ñuha mēre," it's alright, my little one , Rhaena hummed down towards Aemon as they made their way into the brightly lit bloom coloured nursery, "I'll sing one of your favourite lullabies, hmm? How about that?" 

At that, Aemon beamed up her, wiping his eyes with an adorable smile, "the one about the dragon Prince and the water maiden!" 

"Yes, dear," she giggled back, letting Aemon run to his bed. He'd climbed up eagerly, letting Elaya undo the laces of his shoes so that he could climb in under his fur blanket. As he settled in, Rhaena placed Daemion down beside him. Let the boys lie close as she settled soft hands on their cheeks, tucking them in. Aemon's pale eyes blinked up innocently, as he instinctually nudged closer to his baby brother, “mama, when is papa coming back?” 

“I-” just as she had opened her mouth...Vhagar could be heard roaring in the distance. 

There he was, Aemond would be back soon. 

And truth be told, now that the initial shock of his exploits had finally subsided. 

All that was left was a deep sense of vexation for the man she called 'husband' .  

She was all too ready to face him now. 

“He should be home shortly, little one,” Rhaena caressed her son's chubby cheek, “you'll see him later. Now, settle in.”

—

Notes: LMAO at this point, I think Rhaena actually wants to throttle Aemond. Burning villages down for a lack of kewchie and tiddy milk is WILD fr. Chapter three is where is we will be switching over to Aemond's POV! And Ch.4 is most likely when the actual smut will begin! Although Aemond's a needy guy, the horny thoughts will still be there in ch.3.

[nonokoko13]

SPOILERS MANGA CHAPTER 3: OCTAVINELLE

OMG THIS YUU IS SO SO CUTE!!!!!!

LOOK AT HIM/THEM. ADORABLE. I WANNA HUG HIM/THEM 💖💖💖

Edit: Apparently his name is Yuuta, 16 yo. Maybe his surname is Mito, from what I heard in Reddit. I also read there that his family owns a Chinese restaurant, until you have better sources or find where it says that yourselves don't take it as official.

[paperconsumption]

i really made my creative writing class so much harder for myself like i did not have to do any of this

[chekensheppppp]

I'm late in my timezone but whatever. Happy throw short people day (October 21)! Remember to throw your resident midget capitalist gremlin today!

To celebrate, I redrew an old comic i made back in 2021 that i posted on reddit. I suppose this is also me checking how much my art has changed from then lmao.

original under cut:

(and yeah, i'm u/thewalkingwaddledee, i just moved away from there because fuck spez. if you saw me on reddit before, well uh, hi, hope you're doing well.)

i'm so funny hahahhahsadhsjafhdzbcfd

[erregiulydraws]

“Let’s go on and on together forever“

[the-great-papyru]

sigh… i missed writing flowey… so glad i’m back to that

[emberunderscore]

chat chat chat !! its a fluff chapter . like actually !! there were almost no tws on this chapter chat !!

oh except the conversation which is kind of the whole point of the chapter . thats kinda sad-

[azaarial]

giggling like a madman

[thislittlekumquat]

Reaping What You Sow - Chapter 1

Too Late to Change Her Mind

Read it here on ao3!

In which Lizzy gets married, Edward expresses his misgivings, and a creepy manor makes for a poor party venue.

As the wedding bells tolled and Prince Soma discreetly clasped his wrist, Edward Midford barely saw his newly wedded sister and her husband pass before him on their way to their carriage. Recent headlines in all the most vicious gossip rags ran before his mind’s eye instead....

Edward’s mouth was pressed into a firm line. Soma’s hand was on his shoulder now, a much manlier clasp suitable for public consumption. “Ed, love,” he whispered into his ear. “Relax.”

~

'Reaping What You Sow' is a 17-chapter exploration of how the fallout from the Phantomhive tragedy continues to warp the lives of those caught in its wake, and how one Elizabeth Phantomhive, née Midford, comes to understand herself and her own desires better.

For fans of Lizzy and Edward being supportive siblings, Sieglinde experiencing gay yearning, Wolfram having SO many adopted children, Undertaker having a nonzero number of biological grandchildren, and Grell having the time of her fucking life becoming besties with Angelina's little niece.