#need warm weather stat

[conkreetmonkey]

Red Dead Redemption 2 was so real for creating the most in-depth, realistic clothing system I've ever seen in any game, and exclusively using it on burly, unhygienic men.

You choose every layer, every accessory, with dozens to hundreds of each to choose from. You can go in and fine-tune minute details like whether or not to roll up the shirt sleeves, or button the collar, or whether to wear your pants under your boots. These clothes get dirty in real time depending on what you do in the game. Mud, dust and blood linger unless washed off. Every garment has a warmth rating based on its material, and the game calculates what temperatures an outfit is suitable for based on the combined total. Dressing too cold or warm for the weather causes health debuffs.

You can choose which way he parts his hair, and whether he gels it. If you eat too much he gets bulkier and gains a double chin, and if you eat too little he can go underweight and get all bony and sallow. Both of these states come with stat changes. His hair and beard grow in real game time, and you need to routinely style and shave his facial hair if you want any style other than a full Santa. You need to bathe him regularly or people will start commenting on his BO, and he'll start visibly appearing filthy long before that. He sunburns in the sun, and in the heat he becomes slick and glossy with sweat.

This shit is IN DEPTH. It blows the customization systems of actual fashion-centric games like tf2, Monster Hunter and Splatoon out of the water in every regard. They honestly look basic in comparison. It's a paradigm shift for sure once you experience RDR2's level of customization. Everything else starts to feel smaller.

The player character all this customization is applied to, and I simply cannot stress this enough, is a 36 year old, 6'3" smoker weighing well over 200 pounds, with facial hair thicker than a sheepdogs, forearms like gnarled tree trunks and a dark, dense forest of body hair covering every reasonable surface. His skin is pocked and marred with scars from a rugged, nomadic lifestyle, and his teeth are the colour of cornbread. He has a thick southern accent, is a known mean drunk and knows how to skin pretty much any North American animal. He has never worn deodorant, flossed or moisturized. He eats canned beans, fruit and the like by simply pouring them into his mouth and gulping, often while walking or riding a horse at full gallop.

I can think of NO better use case for such customization. Not some fresh-faced little twink, not some busty anime babe. Just a gross, hairy, unwashed homeless dude with crippling self esteem issues and a chest broader than a barrel laid lengthwise. A non fashion-centric game, certainly a non-fashion centric character, but for some reason the best clothing and customization system ever concieved, bar none. What the fuck.

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

When a quiet New Year's Eve at home turns into something more, a simple evening of celebration becomes a whirlwind of passion and mischief. Inspired by @scoonsalicious' characters Pocket and Bucky Barnes and the following instagram reel.

This story is written with the full support of @scoonsalicious, who has kindly given me permission to bring her beloved characters Pocket and Bucky to life in this fan fic of her fan fic.

Word count: 1k

A/N: If anyone hasn't read @scoonsalicious' story Unwanted, I suggest you get on it. Stat! Happy New Year, bestie!

The New York skyline glittered through the apartment’s expansive windows, the dark sky littered with multicolored explosions in preparation for the upcoming occasion. Inside, the living room was warm and cozy, Christmas decorations giving the room a festive feel. You were sitting cross-legged on one side of the couch, with one hand wrapped around a steaming mug of hot chocolate spiked with a very healthy dose of Baileys.

It was close to midnight and Bucky was sprawled across the other side of the couch watching you tapping at a tablet. He was wearing a dark Henley and those sweatpants which hung at the perfect place on his hips and left very little to the imagination. You liked to think of them as his seduction pants. You were pretty comfortable in your oversize Stark Industries hoodie and booty shorts, while your pink fuzzy socks kept your feet warm.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Bucky making faces— his lips twitching, furrowed brows, a small smirk now and again, his gaze flicking between you and the television while he flipped through every television channel available to mankind as though he was enduring some kind of punishment.

“Any luck?” you asked without looking up from your screen.

“Nope,” he replied, pounding the same button on the remote over and over. “Is it some kind of requirement for all New Year’s Eve shows to be either obnoxiously loud or painfully boring?”

“Absolutely,” you said with a smirk.

“You gonna work all night?” he asked with a pout. “Not very festive of Stark. Or is this punishment because I didn’t want to go to his party?”

You smiled, reaching out to tickle his toes. “Just tweaking some Stark satellite code. I told Tony I’d do it. Don’t want the world to be unprotected because we were all celebrating.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “But this is supposed to be our downtime?”

“I know, Buck.” You clicked off the tablet and placed it to the side. “See, no more work. You have my full attention now, Barnes. What’re our plans for New Year’s?”

Bucky shrugged petulantly, still mad that you had chosen to do Tony a favor over being bored with him.

You grabbed his foot and wiggled it from side to side. “Come on, I’m all yours now. How about we watch the ball drop in Times Square. Pretty traditional. Fireworks, confetti, overhyped countdown…”

Bucky didn’t even look up from the channel surfing, letting out an unimpressed grunt. “I’d rather wrestle a grizzly bear than deal with that chaos. What do people get out of this ridiculous tradition? It’s slow, pointless and everyone just pretends they’re having a good time.”

You raised an eyebrow, while stirring your hot chocolate with a candy cane, slowly putting it in your mouth and sucking on the end. “You’ve got very strong opinions for someone who’s never actually done it.”

The deadpan look in Bucky’s blue eyes as he turned to you, made you laugh out loud. “Why does anyone need to experience this hell? Freezing weather, drunk strangers, waiting for hours for what? That thing moves as slow as molasses.”

“Wow! Slow down there, New Year’s Grinch.”

“Not a grinch,” he countered. “I just have higher standards and I didn’t really want to go outside.”

“Well I was just suggesting we watch it on television,” you laughed at Bucky’s embarrassed expression. “Did you know some places drop other things instead of a ball?”

That got his attention. “Like what?”

“Let’s see,” you began, counting off on your fingers. “Idaho drops a potato. Georgia drops a peach. California does a grape. And my personal favorite, in Tucson, Arizona, they drop a Taco Bell sign.”

Bucky blinked in astonishment. “A Taco Bell sign? Seriously?” he laughed.

You nodded, grinning. “I feel like that one has the most energy. Can you imagine? Midnight, fireworks, and the crowd going wild for tacos.”

Bucky shook his head but he was still smiling. “Fine, I’ll give you that. Better than a disco ball.”

“Okay,” you said, setting down your mug with a smirk. “Since we’re not into Times Square or Taco Bell. You’re looking for something higher paced, so how about we start our own tradition?”

“Oh?” Bucky raised his eyebrows with curiosity. “What did you have in mind?”

You leaned back, stretching your arms up over your head before placing them behind your head and stretching out your legs. “Hmm,” you hummed, pretending to mull things over. “Something a little more simple. Champagne. No crowds. Just you and me.”

Bucky’s lips curled into a slow, wicked grin that sent heat pooling into your stomach. “I’m listening.”

“Oh are you now?”

Bucky shuffled closer, his hand snaking over your shoulders as he leaned toward you. His voice had taken on that warm, gravelly tone that made your heart flutter. “Yeah, sweets. You’ve definitely got my attention.”

“Well,” you said, leaning toward him, your faces now just inches apart. “Midnight’s coming fast, Barnes. Instead of watching the ball drop… how about we make my panties drop at midnight?”

“Now that is a tradition I can get behind,” he said, his eyes gleaming with roguishness.

Laughing you moved forward until your noses brushed against each other. “Good, because midnight’s in ten minutes, Sarge.”

“You think I need whole ten minutes to get your panties off?”

“Confident, aren’t we?” You rolled your eyes.

“Just stating facts,” he murmured, as his fingers brushed against your thigh, sending a thrill up your spine.

You leaned closer, brushing your lips against his just enough to tease him. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you into his lap in one smooth motion. “We sure will,” he said, the challenge clear in his voice as the seconds ticked closer to midnight.

“Confident, aren’t we?” you teased.

He had every right to be, he had you stripped of your panties within seconds and was thrusting inside you within minutes.

“Have I ever told you how brilliant you are, sweets?”

“Yeah, but I won’t mind hearing it again.”

The sound of fireworks outside blurred into the background as Bucky had you screaming his name on the stroke of midnight.

[spiribia]

The thing with video games is that the *idea* of being able to cook a bounty of well-rounded dishes out of gathered ingredients is deeply pleasing in some way, but games tend to lack the mechanisms to communicate the joy of actually eating food, somewhat stripping the meaning from the motion. This is not a condemnation (and I understand developers have priorities over making food succulent), but thoughts on why a broad range of cooking options in an open world game generally seems more appealing as a concept than where it is actually implemented. In most 'cozy' games about food, hunger and appetite isn't a factor. Even in games around producing food, ie. farming or cooking, the end product is often just a static image directly exchangeable for profit. Expansive menus of craftable foods become a laundry list, because there is not really a palpable difference in game between eating a raw potato and eating mashed potatoes and eating a loaded baked potato and eating hash brown, apart from the statistics. You have 1/1 potato and 0/1 butter needed. Likely you will refer to numerical benefits, and in MMOs you'll see everyone optimizing toward one specific kind of food for a purpose. If loaded baked potato gives the best stats, why bother making or bringing the other item types. Why make spaghetti and meatballs. My player character eats loaded baked potato every day, multiple times a day. I pound back 5 loaded baked potato before engaging the boss. Not because it's yummy. It tastes like nothing to my player character. I don't even think this necessarily needs to be fixed ever, it's just something that's interesting to ruminate on. Survival games ironically occupy a position where they can make food marginally 'cozier'. A well-prepared hot meal can fill your belly, aid your mental meter, keep you warm in cold weather, can be eaten without so much risk of making you sick. Still, it's Who is reading this

[rainibao]

End of Year Stats!

(Where I kind of start oversharing sometimes)

Yippeeyipee thanks for the tag again! @miyamiwu and holy shit it's the last day of the year...glad to be entering the new year with y'all!

Age: 20

Height: ~160cm

Grade: NA but hopefully I'll enter university next year

Confidence: default around 3/10 but it fluctuates, sometimes to my detriment, especially when I'm manic and too hasty (who needs caffeine and drugs when...lol I joke(not really))

Happiness: 7/10 right now because I just got news that I've been accepted into the internship! Fixating on Link click has also elevated my mood recently. Though I'm also still worried that I'll not perform well especially if dissociation happens to hit, and also about university(the one I know I can most likely enter would send me into the negatives, and that's without an honours year wtf)

Gender: female

Sexuality: Bi-bi-bi

Romantic: not separate from my sexuality, so the same. Being bi is both a blessing and a constant struggle rip

Favourite food: Pumpkin congee(must be warm or hot). Yup, just plain old pumpkin, rice and water. I do like it with minced meat sometimes.

Favourite show: Link Click/Arcane/Monster(only finished the manga but...). Link Click is definitely closest to my heart though.

Favourite movie: Kind of want to pick The Boy and the Heron, but it's probably Singapore Dreaming because of the relatability and how realistically flawed the characters are.

Favourite song: Currently I would say some Arcane songs, some Link Click songs, and The Challenge from Epic the musical, but if I had to name only one, a song I can think of that has stood the test of time is Lights Down Low by MAX. I associate it with a really cute edit I saw a few years back of a webtoon I used to read (it's also how I discovered the song).

Favourite artist: Even if I do have phases, it's more towards their specific songs than the artist themselves. So NA

Relationship status: Might as well have granted my childhood wish to be a hunter of Artemis

Favourite colour: Pink, even if I had lied about it being other colours throughout the years. It's my one true love

Favourite season: no seasons here, but cool weather ye

Followers: 90+

No pressure tagging: @jpuff9 @xxene @steamsamurai @snifflebunny21 @catguangcorner (ik you already got tagged but ping me in yours if u do it 😋) @captain-johanssons-wooden-ear @romeoisalesbian

+ anyone who sees this and is interested! Feel free to tag me in your post even in this case

[roe-and-memory]

i think that cruz is kinda tall, right, and natalie is a little shorter. not by much but just by Enough that she has to stand on her tiptoes to be eye-to-eye with cruz - or, to kiss cruz

i ALSO feel like cruz woule be the type to be very proud and open about it . what flag do i want on my car beside my name? the lesbian one. her firesuit has the flag beside the piston cup logo on her arm and shes literally an Icon EVERWHERE.

natalie, on the other hand, is a little more discreet - but not by a lot. she wears shirts with cruz’s car and name on them, she wears cruz’s shirts in General, and she focuses maybe a little Too much on the extremely impressive stats of her girlfriend, much to chick hicks dismay

chick isn’t homophobic, but cruz is the “adoptive” daughter of lightning mcqueen . his most Rivalled ever. natalie will go out of her way to waste chicks time on purpose out of Spite by either hanging out on pit road with her off microphone and press pass, or just straight up telling him Give me a Second i need to kiss my gf and wish her good luck. fuck off chick dicks

and he cant be MAD because that would make him look bad . he is The piston cup winner of All Time. right. but he will angrily brush past lightning on pit road and lightning just grins because ooooohhhhh someones mad (get his ass cruz and natalie)

but also dont imagine natalie never really learning how to cook, she’d always been more interested in school and stats - piston cup fan when she was a kid too, obsessed with the idea of working the jobs of darrell and bob - whereas cruz grew up in a house of tradition and culture, where she learned to cook almost everything under the sun . so DEFINITELY dont imagine an intense weather delayed race, the two of them in cruz’s motorhome hiding from the elements And the press, rain pounding against the windows and gentle sounds of people talking and laughing drifting through the paper thin walls, and theyre Baking. cruz is gently guiding natalie through it, standing behind her with her hands over nats, doing the swift cutting motions and everything..

“you know you dont have to help me do everything, right? you could always tell me the instructions.” natalie tells her with a lighthearted, joking tone

“what fun is that?! we’re baking together, i like being able to do this. plus, its cold in here and youre warm, its a win-win situation!”

natalie throws her head back and laughs, “cant really argue with that, can i?”

baking sort of goes to shit, they abandon all of the ingredients still on the counter and end up putting on a movie on the tv in cruz’s room, just cuddling up together in her bed and falling asleep to whatever film they’d half-agreed on watching together

[sheeple]

A green-coloured brother for a black allied son

Part one | Part two

The King is dead. The Greens usurped the throne and crowned Aegon before the people of King's Landing. When word of the treachery reached the ears of the True Queen's court, it was already too late. The Blacks need allies and stat.

"Send us, mother", spoke the Velaryon princess during the Black council, making everybody turn to her and her siblings. "You need messengers, and dragons are quicker than ravens."

And so it is done, Lucaerys is sent to Storm's End and Jacaerys and (Y/n) are sent to Winterfell. The princess sees the scared look on her little brother's face when their mother mentions him flying alone.

"Send me with Luke, mother", she pleads, grabbing both of her mother's hands. "My dragon will for sure scare some sense into the man."

But their mother shakes her head. "I need you and Vermithor in the North. And I need you to grow close to Cregan Stark."

She sighs frustrated. "We're on the brink of war, mother. This isn't the time to court and to plan a wedding."

"I am not asking this of you as your mother. I am saying this as your Queen. You are to go the Winterfell and that's an order."

At the harsh tone of her mother, the Princess takes a step back and lowers her eyes. "Yes, your Grace." 

She turns around and goes to the Dragonpit, where her brothers are already saddled up on their dragons. She strokes the scales of Vermithor before raising taking place on the back of her dragon.

The dragons push off, gliding through the air the Princess goes flying next to Luke and Vermax. "Please be careful. Promise me that you won't do anything stupid."

Luke swallows and looks at his sister, whose eyes are soft and filled with worry. "I promise."

And after that brief interaction, the siblings part ways.

The flight to Winterfell is not one too difficult. If the colours grow bleaker and the air colder, they know that they are going the right way.

Their presence is announced by Vermithor who roars loudly and the ground shakes as the two dragons touch down. Guards are at the ready as they have seen the two dragons approach the castle from miles away, swords and lances at the ready. 

"I'm Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, accompanied by Princess (Y/n) Velaryon. We bring a message to Lord Stark from the Queen."

The guards nod and lead the royal siblings into the main hall where Cregan Stark is seated on the throne carved out of white marble.

Before Jace can take the lead, the Princess steps forwards.

"I did not come here as your betrothed, Lord Stark. We come here as messengers of House Targaryen, asking for your support in the claim of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, first of her name."

Cregan Stark sits back on his throne and rubs a hand over his stubble, a large fur cloak draped over his shoulders. "Of course. My father bend the knee to the Queen then, and I'll follow in his footsteps willingly. I'll have an official document drawn up to pledge my stance to Queen Rhaenyra."

He waves for someone of a maester to prepare the document and a seal. "In the meantime, I would like to offer e meal and warm clothes."

It's no secret that both Velaryon siblings are a slightly bit underdressed for Winterfell weather, even with their thickest cloaks. Before the princess can decline, her brother steps in front of her, accepting the invite. She glares at him but remains quiet, following after a maid to receive a thicker dress and cloak.

While the maid laces up her dress, the princess looks melancholy out of the window. She wonders how her brother is doing, if his flight went well and if Lord Borros is a good host to him.

"You look pained, my Princess."

She turns around and looks at Cregan with the same sombre look. The maid takes her leave and the two betrothed are alone.

"I must apologise, my Lord, but my mind is elsewhere." 

As Cregan grabs the fur coat that lays on the bed, he motions for her to continue while also turning around. "How so?"

"Just as my brother and I are sent to you, my Lord, our youngest brother is sent to Storms End. And while he's a dragon rider, he is no soldier. He's just a boy... wanting to make his house and family proud."

Lord Stark fastens the cloak on her shoulders before turning her around. "I may not know your brother, Princess, but if I know one thing about Targaryens it is that a dragon is not easily defeated. And that also applies to the pups."

She gives him a slight smile, his words somewhat calming her worrying heart.

Cregan leads her towards the banquet hall, her hand wrapped around his bicep. But when she enters and sees her cousin stand next to Jace with a worried look on her face, the princess drops her hand and rushes towards them.

"What is wrong?"

Baela turns towards her and grabs her hands. "We've had word from Storms End. Luke is taken by Aemond to King's Landing and Aemond is asking for you."

She hands the Princess the letter she showed Jace. "It was strapped on Vermax. Apparently, Aemond was also sent to Storms End to earn Lord Borros' favour. And it looks like the Greens have won it."

My dearest beloved,

Oh, how you seem to love to toy with my heart, my darling. Teasing me with your gifted eyeball as a proposal but then you later reveal that that filthy wolf of the North has won the right to your virtue. One that is promised as mine long ago.

I expect you soon at our wedding, my precious dragon. Or else the bastard isn't going to only lose his sight.

Forever yours,

A.

The Princess feels her bowls turn and bile rises up. He has taken her brother as collateral so she will come to him. She doesn't want to think about what he's willing to do to the young boy.

She stumbles back, but Cregan is there to catch her and lead her to a chair. He gently takes the letter out of her hands and reads it for himself. 

"I... I have to..."

"Have the dragons readied immediately! We depart in then minutes!", calls out Cregan to a servant, who scurries off.

Both Jace and Baela nod determined and fasten their cloaks.

"No!", the Princess croaks out, jumping out of the chair and gripping the shoulders of her brother. "You're not going! You and Baela both have to return home."

Jace wants to protest, but the grip of his sister on his shoulders only tightens. "Both of you are the future of the Realm. It's my job as the oldest to keep all of you safe. I've done it once before, and I would do it a million times."

Her brother glances at the amethyst in her socket and looks at the ground, taking a step back and dropping his shoulders. The Princess hugs her cousin one last time before running out of the hall, Cregan hot on her heels. He grabs her shoulder and makes her turn to look at him. 

"I'm not letting you go on this- this suicide mission on your own. As you said to your brother, you are the future of The North."

"My Lord-", she tries to protest.

"Cregan. Call me Cregan, (Y/n). And one thing you have to know about The North is that we're very stubborn. Now, does your dragon fit two people?"

It makes her laugh as she leads her betrothed to where Vermithor is already saddled up and ready to go. "He's only the second biggest dragon in the world. He was ridden by King Jaehaerys the First." She runs a hand over his neck and rests her head against him. "Please be kind to Cregan, we really need you now."

Vermithor shakes his head in an understanding way and lets the two mount him. He pushes off and with speed, he's gone from Winterfell.

By the time they arrive in King's Landing, the sun has set. The Princess has tried to land Vermithor in a discreet location, but the behemoth is easily spotted by the King's Guards. 

Cregan rests his hand on the hilt of his sword as he lets the Princess take the lead. His eyes scan their surroundings as they get led up the stairs and to the prince's apartments.

There, in the middle of the room, stand Aemond with Luke, a knife pressed at the younger's neck as the boy struggles against Aemond's hold.

"Leave us", he tells the guards, and they obey, closing the door behind them.

The single eye of Aemond falls on the Northman protectively trailing behind her, he tightens the grip around the blade. Luke whimpers.

"I'm here, as you wished Aemond. Now let my brother go." Her voice is surprisingly clear and steady for all the feelings that rage through her body.

Aemond cocks his head to the side. "The Wolf wasn't as agreed, my love."

The nickname sickens the Princess.

"There was no agreement. You wanted to see me, and I am here. I kept my promise. Now you."

A humourlessly laugh escapes Aemond's lips. "But did you? You promised yourself to me, and yet here. You. Are." He kicks a glass over to her, and it rolls past her, to Cregan's feet. "Remember your engagement present to me. How you didn't want me alone?"

Cregan picks up the glass and the Princess turns to look at it. It's her eye she gave to the then Queen all those years ago. Aemond had kept it for his own sick delusions.

She grabs the jar and smashes it to the ground. "You sick bastard! I did it to protect my own! And not because some pathetic boy wanted to take something he doesn't own!"

A yelp comes from Luke as Aemond presses the knife deeper into his skin. The younger boy's eyes look at her scarred, tears rolling over his cheeks. He doesn't want to die. 

"Silence!", Aemond growls at the boy in his arms, making the latter tremble and crawl at the arm that holds him. "You want your brother? Fine, here he is."

Aemond pushes the boy out of his arms, but not before cutting Luke's throat. 

An agonizing scream leaves the lips of the Princess and she drops to the ground, clutching Luke's body in her arms, desperately trying to stop the blood from seeping out of her little brother's neck. "No... no... no... no!", she whimpers, tears falling down in fat dollops.

Behind her, Cregan has drawn his sword and advanced to Aemond, who has his own sword drawn, ready for battle.

The Princess's hands are coated with sticky blood. Luke grabs her hands, "tell mother... tell mother I love her, please. And Jace. And Daemon. A-and you, most of all, my belov-"

Before he can finish his sentence, life slips from his eyes. The Princess gasps for air, shaking her brother desperately. She cries, wails, and begs for the boy to wake up.

Wrath fills her every pore, and she looks up from her brother's corpse in her arms. She reaches for the blade not far dispensed from them and grabs it.

She stands up, a murderous glint in her eye and blood on her dress. With a cry, she advances towards the two sword-fighting men and weaves between them. She managed to push Cregan away before plunging the blade into Aemond's only remaining eye and twisting it deeply.

In a twisted way, she mirrors the former Queen that night. Ready to take justice when the world won't give it to her. 

The prince staggers back and falls to the ground. He claws at the knife in his face. But the Princess climbs on top of him and reaches for his neck, squeezing shut his windpipe.

Aemond tries to fight her off, but the rapid blood loss and his air supply being cut off makes him weak.

She screams through her tears and lifts him up, before bringing his head down to the ground. Time after time after time. At one point Aemond stops moving, but the Princess is blinded by rage that she keeps bashing his head to the ground.

Cregan grabs her and pulls her off the lifeless body of the prince. She screams, trashes, and sobs in his arms. The guards are slamming against the doors, but Cregan managed to lock them so they can't get in.

"We have to leave, (Y/n)... If they catch us they will murder us."

But she shakes her head, getting up and walking towards the corpse of the one-eyed prince. "No, I have to do something first."

She grabs one of the swords that lay on the ground and lifts it above her head. In one blow, Aemond's head is separated from his body. "Take Luke and go to Vermithor. If I have not returned in half an hour, leave. Make sure he gets a proper dragon rider's burial."

Without a word, Cregan does what she asks of him and grabs the boy's body in his arms and hurries out of a side door, easily bypassing the guards.

Princess (Y/n) Velaryon grabs Aemond's head by his hair ─ the knife still in his head ─ and with the other, she drags the sword over the ground.

Once she opens the doors, the guards spill in but all stop shocked when they see the Princess, covered in blood and carrying the head of a prince.

She begins the track to the former Queen's apartments and nobody dares to stop her, seeing the true fury of a dragon. 

The doors get kicked open and the former Queen jumps up from her couch, where she sits with her daughter. The One-eyed Princess throws the head of Aemond on the former Queen's feet. The woman looks mortified, while Helaena lets out a scream.

"A green-coloured brother for a black allied son, Alicent Hightower. Bent the knee to the true Queen of end up like your son." She points the sword at the elder woman, who still looks with wide eyes and trembling hands at her son's lifeless head, both eyes now gone.

"You... YOU MONSTER!, she screams, dropping to the ground. Helaena is scared, it can be smelled from a mile away. And the Princess revels in it. 

"I take that as a 'no' then, what a pity." With that, the Princess turns around and makes her way out of the Keep, the cries of the former Queen filling her ears.

Once she reaches Cregan, he looks relieved. He rushes towards her to check her over. "Are you okay? You're not wounded, are you?"

The Princess shakes her head. "No, I'm okay. Physhicall."

They both mount Vermithor but instead of flying home, the large dragon circles above the Red Keep. "Dracarys!", the Princess yells and Vermithor opens its beak, setting the castle and surrounding houses ablaze. He circles around a couple more times, filling the streets with deadly fire before departing for Dragonstone.

When the land, the Queen is already anxiously standing in the Dragon pit. Cregan and the Princess drop from the back of Vermithor and somberly present Lucaerys' corpse. 

"I tried, my Queen. I really did. But Aemond was set on revenge. And I took my own."

Her mother looks up, eyes mortified. "What did you do?" The cold look in her daughter's eye scares the Queen. 

"I burned them down. Every. Last. One of them."

Tagged: @ryuuisthecutest @thepineapplesimp @yeah-just-a-fan@linn-a-a@foggyturtleknightangel@the-phantom-of-arda@bellameshipper

[doktorblitz]

Creature commandos Victor/Bride SFW alphabet

Just a little something I wanted to try

(Nsfw version coming up soon too )

A = Affection Victor is very affectionate albeit safe for work, in public. Doesn't mean he won't hold hands and hug and put a hand on her back etc. Lots of fond looks and heart eyes. Bride is a lot more direct and just as affectionate, and while she tries to keep some dignity in public, in private you can bet these two are tied at the hip. Lots of teasing remarks sent his way too, the fondness in her tone is obvious.

B = Best friend Victor: Probably starts as some odd nerdy hyperfocus and he absolutely talks her head off. It would be annoying if it wasn't so damn cute, seeing the enthusiasm in his eyes. Bride: Probably would start with doing something stupid and ending up in the same principal office/police station/prison/etc, and she's a ride or die once he earns her trust.

C = Cuddles Victor: Likes cuddling a lot, probably 50/50 on the big vs little spoon, depends who needs the comfort more. Bride: If she's attached enough to him, absolutely she's gonna be big spoon and hold him him like a damn plush toy, usually without him even having to say it. She's an oversized heated blanket.

D = Domestic Victor: He makes a surprisingly good house husband if he ever quits his medical practice/retires, very effective at keeping house. Bride: Decently good at keeping house but also sometimes wants to get out and roam, not so likely to just settle down in a forever place.

E = Ending ( breaking up) Victor: He's ever the scientist, I feel like he'd have this entire powerpoint of stats set up for the occasion. Tries to be gentle about it. Bride: A lot more direct but if she genuinely cares, will try to be kind about it.

F = Fiance(e) Victor: he's not immediately up for it until he sees there's something there, but he is all in once he is convinced. Bride: Not as quick about marriage but could be persuaded given enough time, depending how attached she got to him.

G = Gentle Victor: Both physically and emotionally gentle, given his nature as a doctor he tries to heal and help folk. I feel like touches on the shoulder, hugs, being careful when he's patching someone up, that comes naturally to him. Bride: She's a sarcastic ass to anyone who she's not sure about, but to him she's very emotionally gentle, some light ribbing but she's careful to keep her fond expression, to make it clear she's joking. Physically she is very gentle with him, specially when he is sick/under the weather/she's reminding him to eat or sleep.

H = Hugs Victor: Definitely likes hugs and frequently, he's gentle and warm, like a blanket around the shoulders. Bride: She's not as publicly touchy feely in unfamiliar territory, but she hugs him often in private and she's a damn walking radiator for her size. She might even pick him up and carry him on her shoulder if he's hurt/tired.

I = I love you Victor: Doesn't say it as fast as her, slightly more reserved about it and tries to read the situation first. Bride: In her early less jaded days she said it first to him, if it had happened in her later jaded years she would've said it later, she's more guarded now.

J = Jealousy Victor: Hard to make Vic jealous, he is a very giving man who sacrifices a lot to help people, but likely to keep it to himself and stew in it, if he feels it. Bride: She might sometimes get jealous of how giving he is to everyone around him, but she's a lot more direct about it, and they usually work it out.

K = Kisses Victor: He's the gentle exploring type, takes his time and makes her swoon, he's big on teasing her shoulders and neck, or even just casually picking those spots in make out sessions. He has very sensitive neck and shoulders himself, which Bride knows. Bride: She's like a force of nature, so much intensity in one point of contact. She loves marking him up and knowing what he's hiding beneath scarves and high collars. She's sported a few hickeys of her own on the neck and shoulders openly, given her tendency for tanktops. There might be a few marks on her thighs that no no one knows about too.

L = Little ones Victor: He is very good with kids, in fact with any baby human or animal, he seems to have a natural gift for it, and the gentleness that requires. She often jokes and makes smirky comments seeing him cuddling local cats and petting dogs. Bride: She tries but she is at best ok, never really figured out how to really get on their level, she manages protective and kinda motherly on rare occasions.

M = Morning Victor: Has his coffee and paper and catching up on case files etc with some kinda breakfast, usually earlier than her, but on days off likes to stay in bed with her and keep her company. Bride: Late riser if she can help it, but will usually get up and help him and sleepily side hug him and listen to him ramble cause she thinks it's cute. Even if she will comment something exasperatedly fond about it.

N = Night Victor: He might stay up to read or he might talk late into the night, or if he's had a really long day he'll be out like a light, in which case she's gonna tuck that blanket tight with a fond look. He's like a kitten trying to resist sleep, too cute. Lots of sleepy cuddles and nuzzling. Bride: She's more the guard dog of the two, at least when she's not horny, and she'll usually stay later than him keeping an eye open. Ends up in some tangled up position all wrapped up in him and the blankets come morning, almost guaranteed.

O = Open Victor: He was an open book from the moment they started spending so much time around each other, teaching her and at the same time expressing some opinions the people at the time would have his head for, so he'd be a pretty open book quickly. Bride: She opens up to him slightly slower but still ends up saying a lot about herself, at least in the initial part of their relationship. Later once she becomes a jaded asshole she still expresses herself pretty openly with him, but slightly more careful where they talk openly.

P = Patience Victor: Vic's a rock. He's hard to move and if you ever piss him off you get tranquil fury, as he carefully twists the scalpel in some super secret weak spot, it won't kill you immediately, no, it'll take a few hours to bleed out. Mostly never shows that anger except for rare cases, expect a lot of surprised looks. Bride: She's mostly in control of her temper unless you insult Vic or his handiwork(including her physical assets and stitches), and if anyone calls him weak because he's a slim prettyboi, well, that person is gonna figure out how to live without a jaw soon enough. He's the only person who can tell her to back off, and even then he better give a damn good reason.

Q = Quizzes Victor: He remembers every damn thing she's ever said she likes, and he is very good about remembering to do things she likes, half the time it's like he's reading her mind. Bride: She definitely files away any little thing he likes for later, always looking for what makes him smile. Sometimes she has to focus on protecting him from dangers or being a guard dog, so she doesn't always remember to do things he likes, but when she makes such gestures she means them.

R = Remember Victor: Hard to pick favorites but he rather fondly recalls moments of teaching her to dance and in general showing her new things, the thrill of discovery on her face is everything to him. Bride: She has many fond moments, but their more physically intimate moments stand out, she's a very physical kinda person, so their early kisses and exploration are all tucked away in some box in her brain.

S = Security Victor: Vic's quite protective of her, given he even stood up to Eric for her, and he is very quick to check on her and make sure she's alright. Tends to read her tells very easily compared to anyone else. Bride: She's arguably even more protective of him, and she is very physical about it, if anyone speaks ill of Victor they're gonna meet their maker. Expect lots of them being cuddled together and him dozing off/getting carried. And if you dare wake him early(neighbors being noisy dicks), you're gonna need to relocate and soon.

T = Try Victor: He is all about the romantic gestures and remembering important dates, but he also just generally tends to always check in with her and make it clear he misses her. Lots of bubble baths and back-rubs and talking things out. Bride: Not as elaborate as him on these things, but she tries bless her, and he knows how much it means to her. She's more for gestures than words, but the fact she remembers his favorite coffee to this day tells him a lot.

U = Ugly (negative tendencies) Victor: Tends to doubt himself, has moments of questioning if he did the right thing pushing forward with his research and making her and Eric, there is an inevitable moment when she tells him outright she is glad he's brought her to the here and now. Bride: Probably her biggest fear is not being able to save him, as he's basically her tether to humanity, her morality pet and the one person who can tell her to stop being violent.

V = Vanity Victor: He wasn't kidding about that moustache. He's not vain by any means but unless he's ill or unable to take care of himself, he will usually be clean shaven, and relatively recently washed, if he's kinda unkempt he might feel a bit awkward about it. Bride: She's not the most vain person around, but she is fond of her leather pants or specific dresses back in their initial timeline, and her hair will usually be in that updo of hers unless she's had to rush. The side "Antlers" are definitely gelled in place, and yes he has ribbed her about it.

W = Whole Victor: He had a decent but boring life before the Bride, and would definitely miss her spark and curiosity, it would feel rather bland to live without her. Bride: We already see in the show canon that Vic was her humanity, the moment she lost him she went all broken and jaded asshole, so yeah she'd feel quite lost without him.

X = Xtra Victor: He cultivated her curiosity and skepticism just as much as her manners and strength, she talks all fancy detective to the Princess because he's taught her to talk like that, malarkey indeed. There's a little piece of him left there still. Bride: I think she doesn't just call the necklace pretty, she calls his grey eyes pretty too, she calls him pretty in general, which I suppose most men would object to (as opposed to handsome) but he likes it.

Y = Yuck (turn offs) Victor: Unnecessary cruelty, as he is a humanist and a doctor who heals and helps people in general, usually tries to do the right thing. Bride: Watching the pokolistan royals and rich assholes being all dolled up and fancy just for the sake of showing off, like puffed up peacocks. Might comment to Vic about compensating for something with their coin-purses.

Z = Zzz Victor: He has this entire little ritual of tea and chill time with a book or catching up on talking before bed, unless he's absolutely beat. Bride: She probably sleeps naked if she can get away with it, just for convenience and comfort even, which can sometimes be a distraction to a certain prettyboy, even if he is rambling about his latest fixation.

Same as the other Bride/Vic ideas, don't hate and don't go all moralistic crusade on me, I've seen worse more weird power dynamics in tv shows/movies. Mind the tags, thank you

[somethings-coming-up]

Sick Izzy Hands fic - OFMD

Note: I wrote this during a 13 hour graveyard shift, so it's definitely choppy. I also haven't written anything like this for ages. Or anything, really. Anyway, definitely could have used more work and it's too long, but it is what it is. Lots of language too because Izzy. Vomit warning because I don't write anything without it. Cheers.

The crew was in good spirits. It was one of those pleasant summer days where the sun beamed down, but a light breeze brought enough cool air that it wasn't excessively warm, contrary to how it's felt all week. The smell of the salty sea was fresh, and seagulls flew above, cawing contently as though they too were enjoying a break from the heat. The crew was taking a break from work, a handful playing cards on deck, a few others lounging, but regardless they all seemed at ease, enjoying the easy day. It was an energy that made Stede beam with pride, as though he was the one to personally lift the mood of the ship. He knew the weather was a factor, but he was also the one who recommended the crew take it easy for the day and just enjoy each other's company, which deserved at least half the credit, he thought. It was so seldom to see the entire crew in a good mood. 

Well, almost the entire crew, but Stede opted to believe Izzy didn't count because he was never in a good mood, and he felt it unfair to allow that to affect his stats. Somehow, a more relaxed, cool day worsened the first mate's mood. Stede brushed it off, assuming that the man was so miserable all the time, seeing others not be miserable made him more miserable. For the better part of the morning, Izzy had griped about not enough work getting done, to which Stede had countered with the rather fair argument that no matter was so detrimental that it couldn't wait until morning. He tried to convince the older man to relax himself, and only received a grumble in response. 

Now, Stede was watching him from across, the deck, narrowing his eyes in concentration as Izzy leaned against the railing, busying himself with sharpening his knives. Lucius had just had the audacity to approach him and ask if he wanted to join them for a round of poker, and quickly turned away when Izzy spat out a "oh, fuck off" without glancing up from his knife. That was a very infamous Izzy line, but Stede felt it to be a little harsh at the simple invitation, even for him. Izzy wasn't known for being social on the ship, but even he would occasionally play cards, mostly because he was better at it and taking coin from the rest of the crew seemed to bring him a little joy. Even when he didn't want to, he usually responded with a nonchalant "pass" or "I'm busy." 'Fuck off' was uncalled for, and Stede felt the need to stick up for Lucius. As much as he didn't want to be on the receiving end of Izzy's foul mood, Stede headed for his direction. It wasn't until he got closer, and saw the scowl on the man's face appeared to be more of a grimace, and he was squinting, even though a cloud was currently protecting them from the majority of the sun's light. But what really caught Stede's attention was that Izzy looked as though the side of the ship was the only thing keeping the man upright. 

Nope. He wasn't up for this. This was a matter only one person could handle, and it wasn't Stede. Izzy being unwell seemed so unfathomable, so far-fetched, and yet it was clearly happening, and Stede winced at the mere thought of what kind of response he would get if he tried to bring it up to the ornery man. The concentration Izzy had on his knives at the moment was also a deterrent. It would be far too easy for him to lodge one in his captain's throat when they were already in hand. And freshly sharpened too. Stede instead turned around and headed for the direction of his co-captain-turned-partner because Izzy was his and therefore this was his problem. 

Ed was in their chambers, a glass of bourbon in hand, lounging on their sofa. He had taken the opportunity to do 'fuck all' that day, which apparently literally meant absolutely nothing. Stede couldn't blame him though, because he did genuinely work hard day after day and he was happy to see his partner relax and rest. He almost felt bad about bothering him with the current situation, but something had to be done before Izzy actually hurt someone. Or himself. 

"Ed, darling," Stede greeted, taking a seat on the edge of the sofa, his thigh pressing against Ed's side. 

Ed lowered his sunglasses and flashed Stede a charming smile. "Yes, my love? Don't tell me you're already ready for round three." 

Stede couldn't help but blush, but as wonderful as that sounded, there were more pressing matters. "I actually need to talk to you. Well, um… something is wrong with Izzy." 

Ed laughed. It was a real laugh, as though Stede had just told the funniest joke he had ever heard. "And this is news to you? Don't tell me you're just now realizing that Izzy has issues." 

Stede scoffed. "Darling, of course I know that. But I'm not talking about murderous intent. I mean something is wrong with him."

At this, the humorous expression faded from Ed's face, and was replaced with genuine concern. "Where is he?" he asked, sitting up quickly. 

"On the deck. Plotting his first victim. Looking like he's about to topple over." 

Ed stood and brushed past Stede without another word. Stede didn't feel offended, he knew the two men had an important relationship, one that he wasn’t jealous of because it didn't make Ed love him any less. He followed his partner out of their chambers, past the crew to the other side of the deck. He could feel most of them pause what they were doing to spectate, possibly having picked up on Izzy's being worse than a bitchier-than-usual attitude. The first mate didn't stop what he was doing when the two captains approached him, but Stede knew it wasn't due to him not noticing them. 

"Iz?" Ed broke the silence cautiously, like he was approaching a wild animal. He may as well be, Stede thought. They were met with silence, save the sound of metal scraping against metal. Ed tried again, a little more firm, but still gentle underneath the surface. "Iz, look at me, mate." 

The scraping stopped. Izzy lifted his head and made eye contact with Ed, and this close Stede could really see it. He looked like shit. His eyes were bloodshot, dark bags underneath them like he hadn't been sleeping at all. There was a light flush to his cheeks, and even though it was Izzy, Stede had to fold his hands in front of him to stop him from reaching out to check for a fever. A few dark strands stuck to the older man's forehead, standing out against pale skin. Despite looking like he could keel over any second, Izzy glared, snarling at both men. "What do you want?" he demanded. His voice sounded exhausted, his rasp thicker than usual. 

"You're not looking so good, mate," Ed said, placing a hand on his first mate's shoulder. 

Izzy shrugged the hand off quickly, hissing through clenched teeth. "I'm fine, fuck off." 

But Ed seemed to know what he was doing. Stede couldn't help but feel he had gone through this with Izzy before. "No, man, you're not. I've known you long enough to know you're not." Somehow, Ed felt confident enough to put the back of his hand against Izzy's forehead, which Stede wouldn't do when the man had a knife in his hand. Izzy still brushed him off quickly though, looking more pissed off. 

"I said, fuck off, Edward." His tone was threatening enough that if Stede were in Ed's shoes, he'd be counting his losses and leaving him be. 

But Ed wasn't Stede, and he held his ground. "Iz," he said again, still keeping his voice calm. "Just tell me what's wrong." 

Izzy glared at Ed, eyes narrowing. The two stared each other down for a few agonizing seconds before Izzy's face began to relax and he looked to the side, expression defeated. He put the knife and sharpener on a crate beside him and his gloved hand rubbed across his forehead. "I… I have a headache," he admitted softly. Though Stede could only imagine that was only a fraction of Izzy's problem, the one confession left a bitter look on the older man's face. Like it physically pained him to admit even that. 

"Okay," Ed said slowly, looking like he was choosing each word carefully. "So you're just not feeling all that well, aye?" 

"Aye," answered Izzy, sounding exhausted and irritated at the same time. 

"Okay," Ed repeated. "It's okay not to always be okay, you know. You've seen me sicker than a bloody dog before." 

Izzy didn't look convinced and Stede hated his brain for wondering what made him like this. The thought made him feel sad, and he never imagined feeling sad for Izzy. And for the first time since meeting him, Stede was overwhelmed with a need to fret. "Izzy, why don't you lay down? You can use our quarters if you'd like. There's more space, more privacy, it'll be more quiet-" 

Izzy looked pissed off all over again, eliminating whatever progress Ed made to calm him down. "I didn't ask for your fucking suggestions, Bonnet. And I don't need your fucking opinions or your fucking bed. I can take care of myself, so fuck off." 

Ed was quick to step in. "Hey, hey, hey, Iz. Iz, calm down." He put both hands on the man's shoulders now, and surprisingly wasn't pushed off this time. "He's just trying to help, so don't be an asshole." 

"I don't want help." 

"Not really a good reason to bite someone's head off just for offering it."

Izzy at least had it in him to look a little ashamed, but the expression was gone as quickly as it came, and no apology was offered, but Stede wasn't expecting one, nor did he mind. The man did look like hell, and expecting this to be the moment Izzy decided to be civil would be insane. "I don't want help," the man repeated. "I just want to go back to my own fucking room." 

"And that's completely fine, Iz, but our quarters might be a better idea. There aren't any rooms right next to ours and your walls are… thin." 

Stede didn't know what Ed meant by that, but Izzy clearly did. He grimaced and looked down, looking ashamed of something. "Fine," he said after a long pause, voice barely a whisper. "If you're both offering, fine." 

Both. It surprised Stede his own thoughts on Izzy staying in their room meant anything to Izzy at all. Then again, he was always so cautious when it came to whatever boundary he had set between him and Ed in his own head. Stede accepted at the very beginning there was love between the two, and slowly grew to accept it, but Izzy resisted, like he was terrified of crossing a line that didn't really exist. Stede didn't know if it was because Izzy didn't want to share Ed, or if the man simply thought it was too good to be true. I'mStede felt bad, because he had assessed long ago Izzy's cantankerous personality was partially driven by the overwhelming need to push people away. 

 

To protect himself. 

"Yes, we are both offering," Stede assured him with a cheery smile that Izzy scowled at. "Plenty of room in our quarters. Why, just last week we let Lucius crash on our couch after a squabble with Black Pete. Woke up with both of them all cozy in the room." Stede knew it was a poor example, because Lucius wasn't in love with Ed and didn't feel like he was imposing on his relationship with Stede, but he hoped to normalize the generosity to Izzy regardless. The older man seemed unphased by the anecdote, Stede doubted he even heard him. He instead was looking down, hunched over slightly, avoiding eye contact entirely. He looked uncertain. No, wait. Embarrassed. Self-conscious. Ashamed. Stede tisked, putting his hands on his hips. "Oh come on, don't mind the crew, Izzy. Pay no attention to them or what they think." Stede glanced behind him, and sure enough there were more than a few pairs of eyes on the trio. He knew about Izzy's nickname, and he knew they used it as ammunition against the man whenever possible. It was no surprise Izzy was feeling self-conscious by the gawking. 

Ed seemed to notice too. He put his arm around Izzy's shoulders, and was surprisingly not pushed away. "Alright, mate, come with me. Stede will keep the crew busy for a minute, won't you, Stede?" 

Stede blinked. Well, he supposed he could do that. Distractions didn't come particularly difficult to him. He had been told throughout his life by just about everyone he loved the sound of his voice. "Oh, alright. Take him to bed, Ed, and then get him some tea." Ed nodded in agreement and began to lead Izzy away, ignoring the protests from the smaller man that he could walk there himself just fine. With that, Steede stood in the middle of the deck and clapped his hands together. "If I could have your attention please, gather 'round, gather 'round." 

The different groups that were scattered about all looked at each other with uncertainty before gathering, their backs now facing away from where Ed was leading Izzy away. Stede smirked at all of them. "Now then, a few words of warning…." 

****************************************

The lecture had been brief, Stede just told his crew that he knew they knew, or at least had a clue what was going on, and that it wasn't to be brought up by anyone on the ship. He didn't mention Izzy by name, he didn't explicitly tell them he was ill, more just a matter of "I know you know, now shut up about it." It was about five minutes later Stede was entering their room. It was dark, Ed probably blew out the majority of the candles and drew the curtains first thing, and he also wasn't there, so he was probably already getting the tea. Izzy was though, still fully dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed, body turned slightly so his back was facing Stede. 

"I was hoping Ed would get you into something more comfortable before wandering off. I'm sure you don't want me doing it. Although, I am not above helping out any crew mate who-" 

And then he heard it. Not a lot could bring Stede's ramblings to a halt so quickly, but that was definitely one of them. Now it made sense--what Ed said about their quarters being more private. About Izzy's own walls being thin. He heard a sickening splash on what sounded like plastic, and sure enough when Stede moved closer, he could see the small basin in Izzy's lap. The man coughed, and his back arched as another wave of dark brown vomit came up, seemingly effortlessly. Stede winced and approached him slowly, using Ed's wild animal method. "Izzy?" he asked cautiously. 

Izzy spat into the basin. "Fuck o-" A dry heave interrupted his attempt to brush of Stede's concern, and after was replaced by a simple, breathless, "fuck". 

Stede winced, moving closer so he was right behind Izzy, but made sure not to touch the bed, and more importantly, made sure not to touch him. However, when a painful, guttural heave brought up very little, it was apparent this wasn't so effortless anymore. Stede winced in sympathy because it looked bloody painful and Izzy's body was trembling violently as he spat unproductively into the basin. Stede could feel his care-taker instincts screaming at him to help, but this was Izzy of all people, and there were boundaries. "Izzy, are you okay with me touching you?" he asked. 

Izzy coughed into the basin before answering. "I knew you were a fucking pervert." He gagged into the basin again, and Stede pretended not to notice the man's eyes beginning to water. 

"No, no, no," Stede said quickly. "I just mean… well I am a dad, and I have been a husband, and I've sat through this before. Let me… help."

“Don’t need help puking,” Izzy growled, breathing heavily. “Body kind of just does it on its own.”

“Do you think it was something you ate?” Stede asked.

Izzy shook his head and winced. “No. Head hurts.” Stede frowned at that because he didn’t know a headache could make someone nauseous as well. Izzy spoke up again before Stede could ask any questions. “Just leave. I’m not finished.” 

Izzy closed his eyes, and for a moment it looked like he was about to fall forward, so Stede had no choice but to take action without consent and he grabbed the man’s shoulders gently. “I got you,” he whispered. “I got you.” Izzy seemed to have regained his balance, and since the whole no-touching ship had already sailed, he began to rub his back. Stede’s other hand brushed aside sweaty strands of hair that was dangling down beside Izzy’s face. Izzy didn’t shove him off, so he stayed, waiting as Izzy hovered his head above the basin with his eyes closed. “Are you sure you have anything left?” Stede asked gently, but apparently jinxed the man because a weak gag brought up a trickle of bile and sick. Stede could feel the trembling now beneath his hand and he physically could not hold back a small coo. “Spoke too soon. I’m sorry, darling.” He placed his hand on Izzy’s right shoulder and began to massage the area, before moving onto his left, and then the base of his neck. Meanwhile, Izzy heaved as though he were trying to bring up his literal stomach itself.

“Oh, Iz.” Stede turned around, looking in the direction of his partner’s voice. Ed was in the doorway, a tray in his hands which he quickly put down on the table in front of the couch before hurrying to the bed. He sat on the opposite side of Stede next to Izzy and pressed a kiss to the man’s sweaty temple. “Figured it was only a matter of time. That’s why I brought stuff to help your stomach too.” Izzy just nodded, wincing again. “Don’t move your head too much, mate. You don’t have to nod, you don’t have to talk, just focus on breathing, okay?”

Izzy didn’t say anything right away, but he took a few deep breaths, indicating Ed’s message was loud and clear. After a few moments however, he whispered, “I’m done. Can someone help get this out of my face?” 

Stede gently pried the basin from Izzy’s hands, figuring he had over-stayed his welcome and that Izzy would want Ed to take the caretaking into his hands. He heard Ed’s gentle whispering behind him as he left the room to dump the contents into the ocean. Suddenly, he felt like he was the one imposing, but he didn’t feel jealous. Just… left out.

When he was back in their quarters, Izzy was lying down, underneath the covers, his clothes discarded on the floor except his undergarments, and Ed was spooning him, raking one hand through his hair, the other hand holding Izzy’s forehead while he rubbed his temples with his thumb. Izzy’s eyes were closed, but he was awake, and lines of pain were etched onto his face. Ed looked up at Stede and softly said, “He gets headaches like these sometimes. They aren’t normal headaches, like other people get. He gets them sometimes when he’s sick, and sometimes they make him sick.”

“He is right here,” Izzy mumbled, but was gently shushed by Ed.

“Shh… Shh… just rest, Iz.”

Izzy opened his eyes slowly, squinting up at Ed, blinking slowly. It looked to Steede as though every slight movement, no matter how miniscule, was physically painful for Izzy. “Actually, Edward, I need a favor.” 

“Anything.”

“My salve is in my room, on my desk. You know what it looks like.”

Ed nodded and pressed a kiss to the back of Izzy’s neck. “‘Course, be right back, mate.” Ed got up slowly, careful not to jostle the bed too much before he left the room, squeezing Steede’s hand on the way out.

“Why didn’t you have me get it?” Stede asked, standing next to the bed.

Izzy closed his eyes and sighed. “Needed to get him out of here so I could talk to you.” Izzy grimaced and winced as he began to slowly sit up and Stede did the best he could to help by propping up pillows behind him so he didn’t have to sit up as much.

“What do you want to talk about?”

Izzy didn’t hesitate. “Why are you okay with this?”

“Okay with what?”

“Why are you okay with my… situation with Edward?”

Stede frowned. Keeping Ed to himself never really crossed his mind. It was apparent from the beginning that wasn’t in the cards. Ed always had a lot of love for Izzy, and probably always would, and he didn’t want to get in between something so special for the both of them. “Well,” he began slowly. “I suppose I want him to be happy, and you deserve to be happy too, and Ed still loves me as well, so we can all be happy.”

Izzy grimaced. “I hated you for it. Why are you so nice to me when I wanted to cut your head off? It’s because you know nothing will change for you, isn’t it? You know I’m no competition, I never have been. You don’t have to be jealous because you know Blackbeard will never feel for me the way he feels for you. He’ll never love me like that, not that much.”

This had to be the fever talking, Stede thought. What Izzy was saying didn’t make sense. He slowly sat down on the bed and shook his head sadly. “Oh, Izzy. You are not a daft man at all, but you can be absolutely stupid sometimes. Ed does love you--he loves you a lot. When I told him something was going on with you, he ran out of here quick as lightning. For god’s sake, he tells you he loves you. Do you think he’s just lying? That it’s all an act?” Izzy didn’t answer, but he shrugged a little, avoiding eye contact with Stede. Stede reached out and took his hand in his and squeezed it gently, surprised Izzy didn’t pull away. “Ed loves you,” he repeated. “And I… well, I don’t hate you.”

“I don’t hate you either,” Izzy said with a sigh. “Well, not anymore. I got over it.”

“Good. Because if you’re going to be sleeping in our bed with both of us, it would be awkward if we did hate each other.”

“Izzy, I got it.” Ed came back into the room quietly, voice barely a whisper. In his hands was a jar of something unidentifiable to Stede. He didn’t need to ask, as Ed felt the need to explain anyway. “This is made up of natural shit, like peppermint, lavender, and uh…”

“Feverfew and eucalyptus,” Izzy finished, holding his hand out. “Just give it to me, you twat.”

Ed continued his explanation anyway. “You just rub it along his forehead, bridge of his nose, and I always get behind the ears for good measure. Helps with the pain.” Stede was surprised this was being explained to him as though he’d need this information for future reference, but he paid attention anyway. Ed looked back at Izzy. “Do you want me to do it?”

“No. I’ve been man-handled enough today. Give it.”

Ed passed the salve to Izzy, giving Stede a smirk. “And sometimes he’s a stubborn arse who insists on doing it himself even though he likes it when I do it for him.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Izzy snarled, but there was very little bite in his tone. If anything, he just sounded tired. He opened up the jar, the smell of natural herbs and spices filling the room and began to rub it over his forehead. When he was finished, he handed the jar back to Ed, who placed it on the bedside table. “I’m going to rest for a bit, I don’t care what you two do.” With that, Izzy sunk back down onto the bed, pulling the blankets up to his chin and closing his eyes.

Ed tisked and pulled off his shirt and trousers and climbed into the right side of the bed, pulling a bundled up Izzy close to his chest. “Come on, Izzy, we’ve been mates long enough that I know you like a little company when you’re feeling icky.” Izzy let out a little humph but otherwise didn’t protest.

Maybe it was because he was feeling tired too, or maybe it was because he wanted to test the waters, or a combination of the two, but Stede stripped down to his undergarments as well and climbed into the bed where there was room. On the left-hand side, next to Izzy Hands. He turned on his side, so Izzy’s back was to him, and he was facing Ed. Ed’s arms were preoccupied holding the man close, so Stede tentatively reached his own over to feel Izzy’s forehead. “Still warm,” he concluded. “Maybe we should get some of that tea in ya before you nod off.”

“No, I’ll puke. And maybe my fever would go down if you two just let me sleep instead of bothering me.”

“Very well,” Stede said with a yawn. He closed his own eyes, focused on the sounds of the sea, and the breathing of the two men beside him, and drifted off rather quickly.

Stede was woken up by warmth. He slowly opened his eyes and looked down, and much to his surprise, a feverish Izzy was clinging onto him, his salt and pepper head tucked underneath Stede’s chin, face nuzzled into his neck. Ed was gone, maybe to check up on things on the ship, or maybe just to go to the bathroom, but Izzy had apparently chosen to seek comfort elsewhere in his sleep. Stede was sure conscious Izzy would hate this, so he started to pull away slowly.

“Lay still. For fuck’s sake.” Izzy cracked one eye open just long enough to glare at him before closing it again and returning to his position.

“How are you feeling?” Stede asked sincerely.

Izzy sighed. “Sick, Bonnet. I feel fucking sick. Same as I did three fucking hours ago, twat. Now shut up.”

And Stede did. He opted to just quietly run his fingers through Izzy’s hair, wondering how in the hell he and Izzy reached this point. Then it suddenly dawned on him why Ed left the bed. 

Conniving bastard.

[aainiouu]

It’s freakig September and the weather hasn’t cooled down A BIT.

Seriously fuck you global warming. I’m a sweaty girlie living in one of the coldest countries in the world. I’ve done my part!

I NEED MY AUTUMN TO COME STAT

[guiltyasdave]

Sooooo I’m working on a little something… I’m on vacation right now and this has inspired a vivid daydream of Dave York taking me away on a trip and doing unspeakable things to me that is living rent-free in my head right now. Sharing a little (kinda nsfw) snippet below the cut :)

only bought this dress so you could take it off

“Take the next week off, and pack a bag. We’re going away for a bit , I’m picking you up on Saturday.”

He’s basically giving you orders, not stopping to ask if you’ve already got plans, if this might be a bad time, anything. Do this, be there, stat. Because he knows that you will do as he says and you know it, too.

Excitement bubbles up in you, the prospect of spending a whole week with Dave, something of a vacation, from what it sounds like, is more than you had ever allowed yourself to even daydream about. This is not what your relationship is about, it’s not what you do. Except that… apparently it is?

“I… okay, yes. That… that sounds great, Dave.” Your delight at his words is clear in your voice. “Where are we going? What do I need to pack? Do I need to prepare anything?”

He chuckles again and you can picture him shaking his head.

“No doll, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Just bring your passport and pack for warm weather. And, sweetheart?” His voice drops an octave and he’s basically purring in your ear. “The sluttier, the better.”

[reinekes-fox]

Hello, at the end of BoaR I got stats: +160% devotion, -60% doubt and the bar looked too elongated, so I assume that's a bug. Also, my MC got punished after the party for allegedly kissing Chase and I got the confrontation with Juschka about it twice in the same playthrough (when playing as male and chose the warm weather for punishment). Only got this scene once when choosing different weather

Hey, that’s not a bug but something I still need to code in. However since the stats are at a state of pure disarray rn anyway I will bother with this once they actually get important enough.

Thanks for letting me know, will go over the scene and check it out! (Maybe I finally wont forget to code in the option to just punch him lol)

[daisynik7]

thank youuu 🥹 and i don’t mind! i’m doing a typical thanksgiving spread, except it’s on a Monday and we don’t celebrate thanksgiving lol.

hope you have the best time at the wedding, eat lots of good food and dance your heart out! take photos and videos for the memories and if you do drink, stay safe and hydrate when you can remember 🥰 

and love when a dish hits the spot! i actually had roasted broccolini and fingerling potatoes for dinner last night, so further proving we’re soulmates??? it’s different but the same ;)

yummm i love sushi! currently treating myself to an online shopping spree, also rewatching/ speed running aot to prep myself for the finale 🥲and yes! flu stats have always peaked during these months where i live due to the weather and elevation, but i promise i’m bundled up! all of the above sounds delicious, but i actually have hot soup in my mug right now lol. what about you? i’m hoping you’re staying warm as well and sipping on a warm beverage of your choice? <3

I hope your Monday non-thanksgiving thanksgiving dinner is yummy! 😉

the wedding was super fun! definitely ate good food and danced the night away. didn't drink too much because it was about a two hour drive getting there/heading back home. also, my alcohol tolerance is shit now, so it's probably better I didn't LOL. BUT they had boba as dessert, which was super cool! I went for the manga peach tea with lychee jelly, so refreshing especially after sweating on the dancefloor. 👌

I LOVE broccolini and all things potato! what a perfect combo. as if I needed any more proof we're meant to be! 🥹

oooohh shopping sprees are always fun. hope you got something good! and good luck for when you actually watch the finale, it's a doozy. and hot soup!! I could actually go for that in my mug right now. I usually like to sip on hot chocolate around this time :)

enjoy the start of the new week my dear! sending you so much love as always, thank you for always being so sweet to me. ♥️

[themaladaptivewriter12]

Title: Fate or Fate?

Part 2 of my "16-Bit Heart" series! Part 1 here

Summary:

After Mirai gets accepted to his new Guild, The Underworld, fates starts to play little games with Mirai's heart as he begins to come to the conclusion that he has a crush on the Iginihyde Housewarden, Idia Shroud.

cw: None!

Reblogs are appreciated, just use my custom tag, #TheMaladaptiveWriter12, if you do!

Cross posted from my Ao3: TheMaladaptiveWriter12

“Ba-bum! Welcome to our guild house,” Gloomurai droned, his character doing a little spin, his arms out doing jazz hands. 

Mirai laughed at Gloomurai’s antics. The Underworld was an overgrown stone manor. It wasn’t too big, but it wasn’t too small either. It was three floors, the outside a dark gray stone, with vines adorned with vibrant blue flowers crawling all over the exterior. The windows were lit with a warm gold glow that seemed to make the whole place look cozy, despite the foggy cloudy rain weather. 

Inside it looked like a cozy little cottage, and like the others said, there were cat decorations everywhere. The pillows, the rugs, the blankets, even the clock were either cat patterned, or cat shaped. But other than that, everything was inviting.

“Anything you can interact with, you can use,” Gloomurai said. “There are crafting tables in the workshop, stoves in the kitchen, and forages in the basement.”

“Practical,” Mirai, playing as Apollo said. 

“IMO, it makes better sense that way than to have everything piled up outside like everyone else does.”

Mirai agreed. Back at home, whenever he had played games like this, storage always went in the bedroom, food related crafting in the kitchen, the crafting table in the workshop or living room, and the forage outside. 

“I have a guild chest that I restock every week. You’re more than welcome to take and add as you please,” Gloomurai droned. 

“Cool. Thanks,” Mirai said.

“You, you don’t have to thank me.”

“But I want to.”

Gloomurai cleared his throat, “A-Anyways, now that you’re a permanent member now, allow me to give you the rundown.”

Gloomurai explained how the guild was run in more depth. Apparently the guild cap was actually one hundred, but Gloomurai liked to keep it as a smattering ten, yet his guild was still the top five in the entire server. When Mirai asked why and how he kept it that way, his response was “I hate people and dedication.” But that’s why he was such a stickler for doing dailies and raids. In this game, Guild Power was evaluated on the Dungeons and Sever Events, it didn’t matter if you had the full one hundred, if you didn’t raid, you didn’t rank. 

By the time the Guild Leader finished explaining how to optimize EXP, Mirai was dozing. Mirai checked his phone and it read four in the morning. 

“You’re gonna wanna put the majority of your EXP into your healing stats, then your health, then your shield. The rest will go into combat. I want to make sure your health is high enough for you to survive, we don’t need you to be too brawly, we need you to heal. Ya feel me?” Gloomurai rambled.

Mirai just hummed.

“You tired?”

“Yeah, a li-” Mirai yawned, “sorry. Yeah, a little.”

“Then let's head off. I’ll send you a link to our Keyboard server. We share our strats there. We talk there sometimes too, but we don’t share anything too personal. Make sure you DL it and register under your gamertag, and not your IRL one.”

“Ok, will do. Good night.”

“GN.”

It had been a month since Mirai joined the Underworld and he was having so much fun. Each and every one of them were high school students, Mirai included, so I made things a lot more relatable. When they had tests or homework they’d complain together, and even made a secondary Keyboard server for homework help. But Mirai was happy. He had more friends, online friends, and it was different. 

He had attended two dungeon raids, participated in a Server Event, and even participated in a Guild War. And Mirai had gotten to know his guild members all the while. For their raids, they split up into two teams of five since only teams of five could fight at a time. Mirai was more than happy to be on Gloomurai’s team, while the rest were on the Vice’s team. There were ten levels they had to pass, and if they were successful, there was a huge chest full of drops that would spawn at the end. Mirai had gotten so much EXP the first time, that he leveled up twice. But now at level forty-five, he was stronger, and closer to his Milestone Level. 

Gloomurai had explained that at each Milestone Level the player had to make a decision, and each was different. Mirai’s last one Milestone had him choose between more hp or more ap, but this next one, Gloomurai said he’d have to make a decision affecting his class. Mirai couldn’t wait, because that meant he could open the next part to his skill tree for his character. But none of this could happen if it weren’t for his Guild Master, Gloomurai, he had helped Mirai like he said he would. He helped tailor his character, not just for the Guild and his class, but for Mirai as well. 

It was Friday night, they just had a successful raid. Khan, Rocinante, and Leslie, Mirai’s raid team members, had logged off for the night. The other five, GotSkill?, War Machine, PixieStic, Fafnir, and the Vice, MetaBoy, had also logged off. Mirai wasn’t sure if their Guild Master logged off yet, his headset had been dead silent for about half an hour now, but Mirai didn’t mind, he was just tweaking his character in the mirror, changing armor, and checking weapons. 

 After equipping Apollo with a new harp, and a new dancer’s outfit, Mirai stretched, looking at the time. It was only midnight. Thinking it was much later, which it wasn’t, Mirai got up to check on Grim. He had found the little monster in his room, scrolling on his tablet. They had found early on that Grim’s paws were too big for the phone screen, so they compromised and got him a tablet. He could call on it, watch videos, and use Magicam all the same. 

“Hey Grim, Ima head down to the vending machine, you want anything?” Mirai asked, getting Grim’s attention. 

“A bag of shrimp puffs,” Grim said excitedly.

“Gotcha.”  

Mirai made his way down towards the school, it was kinda chilly outside, the wind was blowing a bit and Mirai honestly wished he had bought his jacket. Mirai still found it astonishing that the school left the side door unlocked. Anyone could get in at any hour, much like how he was about to do, but they could do something so much worse than buying junk food. And of course there were vending machines outside of the building, but the one inside was the only one that carried the caramel flavored chocolate bars. It honestly was dangerous and very stupid, but at the same time, Mirai was glad, it meant gummy worms, and chocolate at any hour of the day.

Finally making it to the side door, Mirai pulled it open and quietly made his way to the vending machine. Just because it was unlocked didn’t mean he still couldn’t get in trouble. Passing empty classrooms, Mirai was just about to turn the corner when he heard someone’s voice. Quickly, Mirai stumbled back, his heart in his throat as he hid behind the wall. His heart was pounding, his hands were sweating, and a small voice in the back of his mind was yelling at him just to turn around and go to the one outside Sam’s shop. But curiosity got the better of him, and Mirai peeked around the corner and spotted a big ball of blue. For a second he had thought it was Grim, but he remembered he left the cat monster at home. But after he looked again, he found that it was a person, a student at that. Mirai sighed in relief, glad he wasn’t about to get in serious trouble, and turned the corner, heading towards the guy.

Mirai guessed the guy hadn’t seen him coming until he was next to him, for the serious face the blue haired student was just sporting morphed into something akin to terror the moment he realized he wasn’t alone anymore. The guy jumped with a shriek, slapping both his hands over his mouth, as he stumped backwards. Mirai gave a small apologetic smile, waving, but the guy just stared at him, beautiful gold eyes wide in fear.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Mirai said, chuckling.

The blue haired guy didn’t say anything, nor did he move from where he shoved himself against the opposite wall. Mirai just shrugged and put his Marks into the machine. He got Grim’s chips first, making sure Grim got his share, then his chocolate bar next. He got his gummies and last was his Blue Raspberry Wendigo Energy Drink. Mirai definitely didn’t need it, but he loved the taste. And just as Mirai thought he was in the clear, his drink got stuck on the way down. 

“Huh? Oh, c’mon,” Mirai grumbled. 

Of course something like this had to happen. He wasn’t even supposed to be in here, the guy was still standing by, waiting his turn, and now his drink was stuck. And he had a game to get back to. Great, just great.

Mirai stood back before shoving his right arm into the machine. Nothing happened. Mirai groaned, smacking against the outside, nothing. Mirai whined hopelessly. He didn’t have any more Marks, he had only bought enough, but he didn’t want to leave his drink, and to top it off, he probably looked like the dumbest loser to this guy right now. 

“Sorry, dude,” Mirai apologized. “Uh, lemme, uh, lemme try one more time and if it doesn't drop, you can have it.”

Mirai didn’t wait for a reply as he grabbed what he could of the machine and tried to rock it, it didn’t budge and all Mirai did was strain his shoulder. Mirai sighed and gave up. 

“This sucks,” Mirai muttered to himself. 

Mirai turned to the guy. He looked kinda mad, and Mirai felt bad. 

“S-Sorry, man. Didn’t need it anyways. Uh, consider it a gift for putting up with me, well, if you can get it out, that is,” Mirai rambled.

All Mirai got was silence. 

“Well, see ya,” Mirai waved, jogging out of the building, leaving the blue haired guy and his drink behind. 

Mirai slept in the next morning, thanking his past self for switching shifts at Sam’s to the closing shift. He spent his afternoon cleaning, finishing his homework, talking with the ghosts, and before he had to leave, Mirai fed Grim. Mirai hated leaving Grim, but someone had to pay for their food expenses, and Grim sure wasn’t going to.

The closing shift as Sam’s was always unpredictable, hence why Mirai always preferred the opening shift. The morning shifts were always slow and quiet, picking up towards lunch. The midday shift was utter chaos, but predictable, which is why he stayed away from it when he could. But the closing shift was different. Some nights it was jam packed with students, but others, it was slow and quiet. Mirai wasn’t too keen on busy nights, he liked being able to chill and talk with Sam, not fight with hungry Beastmen and overly rowdy party planners. 

Luckily tonight wasn’t too busy, the clientele dwindling as it got closer to closing. Sam whistled to the radio as he took inventory, pen scratching away at his little notepad, while Mirai manned the counter. Mirai was staring off at the clutter at the shop when his phone pinged, it was his Keyboard Server.

PixieStic: Anyone wanna farm mobs?

GotSkill?: I’m game XD

Leslie: give me 5

Roci: Wait for me darlings! <3

Khan: GROSS

Roci: QQ

War Machine: I gotta study (-_-)

PixieStic: F

Fafnir: F

Leslie: f

Roci: FFFFFFF

GotSkill?: what about you Meta

Metaboy: I’m busy right now.

Leslie: Apollo??

Apollo: I’m working

Leslie: :O

GotSkill?: :O

War Machine: :O

Roci: :O

Apollo: LOLOL

Boss: F for respects

Khan: my condolences

Roci: Boss!:D

Boss: Hey

Fafnir: I thought you were a high school student

Apollo: I am. I have a part time job

PixieStic: Suckz to be you

Khan: LOLZ

Leslie: LMAO 

MetaBoy: I think it’s a good thing!

Apollo: Thx Meta XD

The bell on the door chimed, signaling they had a customer. Mirai jumped up from his phone, quickly sending a text to the chat that he had to go. Mirai didn’t see who it was, but he hoped they did take too long. Mirai swayed to the radio as waited, and waited, and waited. Mirai huffed, whoever this was, they were sure taking their time. 

Mirai was about to pick his phone up once more when a plume of blue caught his eye. Mirai looked up and was surprised, it was the guy from last night, and apparently the dark lighting of the NRC hallways didn’t do this guy justice, because in the bright lights of the shop, Mirai could actually make out this guy's face, and Mirai was absolutely floored with this guy's looks. The guy was tall, pale, and gorgeous. His blue hair was like fire, it flickered and danced as if it had a mind of its own, and Mirai was distantly wondering if it was hot to the touch. His teeth were pearly white and sharp as the bit at his glossy blue lips. Mirai was honestly astonished with the different types of people he encounters on a daily basis here, from Beastmen, Merfolk, and now guys with fire for hair, it was really like he was in a fantasy RPG. 

Mirai tried to get himself together as the guy slowly put his purchase onto the counter so Mirai could ring it up. The guy had an air of melancholy to him that seemed to waft off of him in waves. His amber anxiety filled eyes, lined the deepest eye bags Mirai had ever seen, darted around the room as fiddled with his sleeves. He was anxious, and Mirai couldn’t help but to feel a little bad for him.

“That will be two fifty,” Mirai said, stretching his arms over his head. 

The guy just nodded, pulling the crumpled Marks from his pocket and placed them onto the counter. 

“Would you like a bag for that?” Mirai asked as he put the currency into the register.

The guy nodded.

Mirai carefully bagged the items and scooted the bag forward.

“Thanks, have a good evening,” Mirai said, the words more genuine than they normally were. When you had to use the same formalities over and over, it got old pretty fast.

Mirai didn’t get a word back as the guy hurriedly took his bag and rushed out. So the guy was an introvert, Mirai didn’t mind, he was still hot, he was just kinda bummed about not being able to hear the guy's voice. 

“You think he’s good looking, don’t you, Little Imp?”

Mirai jumped with a gasp and Sam cackled wickedly. Mirai pouted, face flushing as he crossed his arms petulantly. 

“I jest,” Sam laughed, “I jest.”

“So what if I think he’s cute,” Mirai pouted. “Like, half of the student body are hunks and pretty boys.”

“But you’ve taken a liking to Shroud.”

“Shroud? Is that his name?” Mirai asked intriguingly. 

Sam laughed, “Shroud, Id-”

Sam was cut off by a flurry of Scarabia students. 

“Hey, Imps,” Sam said, switching to business mode, “What can I getcha?”

They never got to finish their conversation.

Mirai’s week had been absolutely jammed packed with stuff, and he barely had time to do his dailies. The Freshmen had a history project due the following week, Ace and Deuce got Mirai in trouble with Vargas, Kalim all but dragged Mirai to one of his “get togethers”, Mirai was late to homeroom on Wednesday and by the time Friday rolled around, Mirai was exhausted. 

Mirai had just finished helping Professor Crewel when he got a notification that there was an emergency Housewarden meeting in the next ten minutes. Mirai groaned, turning back down the road to Ramshackle and headed to the Hall of Mirrors to fetch Malleus, keeping his end of the bargain that he promised to Lilia. Once Mirai made it to Diasomnia, ready to fetch the wayward Housewarden, Silver had informed him that Lilia actually just left with Malleus the very exact meeting Mirai was supposed to bring Malleus to. Mirai just thanked him numbly and turned around. Now he was late. 

Mirai sprinted across campus as he tried to make it on time. He despised being late, it was humiliating. All the eyes looking at him as he entered the room, full of scorn and disappointment, it was horrible. Mirai was even tempted to skip and feign sickness. 

Mirai was so close to the Headmage’s Office when he was stopped by a ghost.

“Hey, are you headed to see Headmage Crowley?” The ghost asked.

“Uh, uh, uh, y-yeah?” Mirai huffed, chest burning.

“Oh, good. You can take these then.”

The ghost didn’t even give Mirai a chance to say anything as he dropped the stack of books into Mirai’s arms and literally dissipated into thin air. All Mirai could do was get the last of his dwindling brain cells together as he stood there, mouth agape. 

Mirai was officially late, as he struggled to carry the books to the Headmage’s Office. Upon making it to the door, Mirai slumped against the wall next to it, trying to figure out how he was gonna get them inside. Mirai closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The entire week was a nightmare and he still had to Dungeon Raid after this. Hopefully he wasn’t late for that as well. 

As Mirai was cursing his own existence, he hadn’t realized a student walking up to him, until he heard footsteps. Mirai jumped, eyes flying open when he was once again met with the guy he was slightly crushing on.

“You’re in the way,” the table that the flaming haired student was holding said.

Mirai was surprised. Was the guy mute or something? Mirai was curious, but he wasn’t gonna be rude about it and ask.

“O-Oh, oh, yeah, sorry,” Mirai stammered. “Lemme just-”

Mirai backed up towards the door, but what he didn’t know was it was actually left ajar, so instead of meeting solid wood, he flew backwards. Mirai cursed loudly as he stumbled backwards into the room, all eyes on him as he toppled over, books flying everywhere as he hit the ground, a couple smashing him in the face. Mirai could hear laughter, mostly Leona’s and Ruggie’s as he groaned, rolling over as he held his nose. Was it broken? Mirai was sure it was broken. And if not, it was bleeding. 

“You’re late, Mirai,” Riddle scolded.

“I wouldn’t have been, if a ghost hadn’t made me his delivery boy,” Mirai groaned, standing up. 

Mirai wiggled his nose, sniffing experimentally, it was sore, but it wasn’t bleeding or broken.

 “And don’t think I forgot about you, Idia,” Riddle shouted, pointing his scepter at the blue haired guy.

So his name was Idia, Idia Shroud, Mirai thought as he picked up all the books. At least Kalim, Trey and Rook were nice enough to help. Mirai watched as he flinched, typing really fast on his tablet before it spoke.

“I didn’t feel well,” it said.

“That’s your excuse for everything,” Vil chided. 

“Do you know how long we had to wait for you?” Riddle gruffed. “Why must you always make things so difficult?! You are a Housewarden! Act like it!” 

Mirai could see Idia start to curl in on himself, and Mirai felt bad. 

“Sorry, Housewarden Riddle,” Mirai said apologetically. “I’ll try to be on time next time.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Riddle huffed, seemingly to settle down at Mirai’s apology. “Let’s get this over with.”

The meeting wasn’t too long, and too important. Crowley just wanted their opinions on cafeteria food. They were to have their dorms fill out a survey and bring it back by next week. It was pointless. Couldn’t he just have sent an email or something? But in the end, it was a waste of time.

After the meeting was over, they all ended up walking back together. Mirai didn’t mind, Kalim and he filled the walk with idle chatter, as Leona and Malleus, and Riddle and Azul bickered, much to their Vice’s chagrin. Vil was silent as he looked over what looked like a planner as Rook happily tailed him, and Idia took up the rear, listening to whatever was playing in his headset. 

Upon the bend, Mirai kept walking and the group stopped.

“Where are you going?” Kalim asked innocently.

Mirai chuckled, “Ramshackle.”

Kalim’s eye went wide, “Oh yeah! Well, have a safe trip!”

“Thanks,” Mirai waved.

Back at Ramshackle, Mirai had just enough time to cook, which was instant Ramen, use the bathroom, and set up before he had to be on. In the game, the others were already readying themselves, so it seemed he was the last one to log on. 

“Hey guys,” Mirai greeted.

“Apollo,” Roci cheered.

“Sup, dude,” Leslie greeted.

“How was work?” War Machine asked.

“Same old, same old,” Mirai said.

“What do you do?” Gloomurai droned.

“I work at a convenience store,” Mirai said, heart skipping a beat.

Mirai couldn’t get over how sexy his Guild Master’s voice sounded coming through his headset. It was like blue velvet, all silky, and the gravely edge it had scratched at his brain. This guy really needed to do an audio book or one of those ASMR things, Mirai wouldn’t care if he was reading a Doctoral Thesis or talking politics, he’d listen just to hear the guy talk.

“What’s that like?” came MetaBoy’s high pitched boyish voice.

“Just scanning, bagging, and fake formalities. Nothing special,” Mirai shrugged, even if they couldn’t see it.

“I work in a restaurant,” Khan said. “It’s all fun and games until you run out of breadsticks during the dinner rush.”

The chat was filled with laughter. 

“You scrubs ready?” Gloomurai asked, his character jumping up and down.

“Hey,” PixieStic yelled, “We are not scrubs!”

“Yeah,” GotSkill? shouted, “The only scrub here is Apollo!”

Mirai gasped. “I resent that!”

“Less talkin’ and more fast traveling,” Gloomurai chuckled. 

“Yes, Boss,” Rocinante cheered.

“Aye, Sir,” Mirai said, teleporting to their location. 

“Alright! Dungeon Raid is a go,” Fafnir laughed.

After his morning shift, and a quick run through his dailies, Mirai spent the day in the library. His history project was due on Monday and he hadn’t even started it. He needed to pick a location and give a very detailed essay on the topic. He needed a name, location, population, climate, and the magic history of the place. Mirai was at loss. He knew nothing of this world, and that made things much harder. He didn’t know which places would give him a good report, which places were easy topics, and what information would be correct or incorrect. Ace and Deuce weren’t any help, the two picking their birthplaces. Their countries? Islands? Whatever they were called here, and Mirai had nothing. The Isle of Sages was off limits, which made things harder, and Mirai was pretty sure he was gonna fail. 

It was late, like really late, he was three energy drinks in, and Mirai was still pouring over textbook after textbook. Grim had long since left, saying he was tired, and so did Ace and Deuce, lest they wanted to miss curfew. The library wasn’t as scary as he thought it would be at night. Yeah the floating books were a little jarring, and the quiet was kinda unnerving, but all in all, it was peaceful. 

Mirai, after hours of looking, chose Port O’ Bliss. He was honestly kicking himself for not choosing that sooner. Sam and him were close, so he was pretty sure Sam wouldn’t mind helping him out. With renewed vigor and a sense of freedom, Mirai shot from his seat, ready to get some well deserved sleep. 

“If only I could do America,” Mirai muttered grumpily, “This would’ve been done with.”

Mirai made his way around the room, putting back everything he used, making sure it was where he found it. Mirai really didn’t want to get in trouble, especially by Riddle for the books not being where they were supposed to be. Mirai made his way to the Geography section when he caught a flash of blue. Heart skipping a beat, Mirai peaked through the books when he saw him. Standing in a secluded corner was Idia Shroud, leaning against a shelf as he poured over a thick grimoire. It was as if fate was playing a twisted game on Mirai, and he wondered if it was a good thing or a bad thing. Mirai was surprised that he never heard or saw his blue haired upperclassmen with how long he had been there, pouring over his studies, but then again, maybe that was why. Mirai realized he was being creepy, spying on the poor guy as he was minding his own business, and not wanting to get caught, or continue to violate this guy’s privacy, Mirai went to put his book back. 

Finally at the Geography section, Mirai realized the book’s home was two shelves too tall for him. It was Deuce who had got this book for him, and with the Heartslabyul Freshman being taller than him, Mirai wondered if there were any ladders or stools anywhere. Mirai tried standing on the tips of his toes as he tried to put it back, it didn’t work, he was still far too short. Mirai’s next plan of action was to try jumping, but that ended up with a book flat against his face. Mirai groaned, rubbing his forehead as he glared up to the empty spot.

“Just you wait, you stupid, you stupid, ugh, whatever,” Mirai grumbled, feeling stupid that he was literally threatening an empty spot in the bookshelf.

Mirai tried again, standing on his toes as he tried to put the textbook back, and just as he was about to get eight hundred pages to his face yet again, a larger hand caught the book, slipping the book back where it belonged. Mirai whipped his head around and immediately flushed at the sight of his savior, Idia Shroud. He was giving Mirai the most unimpressed look, a thin eyebrow raised in question.

“A-Ah, uh, Mirai chuckled awkwardly, “Thank you.”

Idia nodded.

The two just stood there awkwardly. Mirai wondered if Idia had something to say, or if he was waiting for Mirai to say something. Although, Mirai already had thanked him, so what else could he be waiting for? 

“Uh, well, sorry for troubling you, have a nice night, Idia,” Mirai said, waving in parting. 

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday, the day before Monday, it was always the worst. The battle between trying to enjoy the rest of your weekend against the impending doom of Monday was always stressful. Sam was willing to help Mirai flesh out the majority of his history report, giving him the information that he needed. Mirai couldn’t thank Sam enough, because now he could get a grade. 

Sam manned the counter as Mirai sat beside him, writing his report. He was so grateful for Sam that Mirai hadn’t the words to express his gratitude. Not only had he given him a job, he let Mirai choose his hours, what shifts he wanted, he gave Grim and him discounts, let Mirai choose what he ate for a snack without pay, and now he was letting him do his homework on the clock. Mirai wanted to cry, but wasn’t going to, especially not on the clock. He’d cry and express his gratitude later, but, then again, Mirai had an inkling that he didn’t have to, Sam always seemed to know what he was thinking. So as Mirai did his report, Sam would just smile and ruffle his hair every so often, and Mirai knew that his thanks were already well received. 

It was close to closing when the bell on the door chimed. Both Mirai and Sam looked up, and low and behold, it was Idia. Mirai was pretty sure Twisted Wonderland was playing some kind of trick on him, but he still couldn’t figure out if he should shoot his shot or give up entirely.

“Hey, Little Imp,” Sam called, giving Idia a wave. “What can I getcha today?”

Idia looked as if he was about to say something, but the moment he spotted Mirai on the stool beside Sam, he clammed up, his shoulders going up to his ears. Mirai didn’t take it to heart, he figured he wasn’t used to talking around people he didn’t know. Mirai didn’t move to make any conversation as Sam purposely made Mirai ring Idia up, the guy looked ready to jump out of his skin. But Mirai did pay attention to what Idia was purchasing. There was a truckload of sweets, little cakes, lollipops, gummies, and one Mirai had never seen before, Pomegranate Drops. And the last thing to go up, a Lemon Wendigo Energy Drink.

“Lemon huh,” Mirai muttered, scanning the drink. “Is it any good? I hate the way lemon makes my mouth feel sometimes.”

“Does it matter?” the tablet spoke back. “Lemon flavor has the right amount of sweet and sour, you can’t go wrong.”

Mirai chuckled to himself, but Idia didn’t say anything else.

“Thanks for shopping. Have a nice night,” Mirai smiled brightly.

Idia flushed, seemingly not sure what to do with himself, so he just snatched the brown paper bag off the counter and scurried out of the shop.

One Mirai was sure he was gone, he slouched onto the stool, a dreamy smile crawling its way onto his warming face. It was the first time they really had something close to a proper conversation. And Idia willingly replied to him. 

“So,” Sam said smugly, “That was a start.”

Mirai chuckled nervously, “Y-Yeah.”

“Whatcha gonna do about it?”

“I don’t know, but I wanna try.”

Mirai knew he had just as much luck as oil mixing with water. He could tell Idia would be a tough nut to crack, he was seriously introverted, shy, and it looked like social anxiety, and Mirai would know, he suffered from social anxiety himself. He was aware of the triggers and how it would make Idia feel, but the toughest part was actually getting Idia to talk to him. How does one even talk to someone who absolutely despises human interaction? There had to be a way, there just had to be. And to whatever Twisted Wonderland entity was testing him, Mirai was hoping he got his answers soon.

[siodium]

GUESS WHO PASSED THEIR TP TEST TODAY???

i'm thrilled to report that i've just passed my first attempt with 18 points!!! barely made it but a win's a win, right?? i can now apply for a class 3A driver's license and be an absolute menace on the roads yey~ ✌︎（＾ ＾✌︎

it's also the eve of christmas eve today, so merry christmas to me~ ✩

timeline and stats:

passed BTT on 15/02/2024

started practical lessons on 02/07/2024 and went twice a week for about 2 months

passed FTT on 16/10/2024 (took 2 tries for FTE)

total practical sessions: 24 (including 5 revisions)

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

i took a session 5 test slot (10:45 am to 12:15 pm). even though the weather forecast said there'd be thundery showers today, i was blessed with clear and sunny skies. it was possibly the most ideal weather to be taking a driving test in.

you wanna know what's freaky though?? the moment i completed my test, it started to drizzle. and it rained throughout the rest of the day?? it felt like the clouds held back for my sake HAHAH. thank you, weather gods. 🙏

my warm-up went super smoothly. i did everything in the circuit so impeccably well that it even surprised me?? my instructor also gave me some last-minute tips for the road component of the test, so i felt pretty relaxed and confident at that point.

this calmness, however, got yeeted off somewhere when the actual test begun at 11:30 am. i could feel the nervousness creeping up on me slowly as i progressed through the test.

ended up raking in quite a bit of points in the circuit for dumb and careless mistakes. on the bright side, i didn't get any immediate failures. i also managed to do corrections for an early turn in directional change (?? never had this issue before), and whatever the heck happened in parallel parking (was so busy checking blind spots that i missed the second sighting point by a ridiculously wide margin?? didn't get points for that bc i parked within the time limit bUT I DID GO "OH SHIT" IN FRONT OF THE TESTER oops).

the entire test took about 30 mins and i was told to wait at the waiting area for my results. for some reason, nobody else was there?? so, i was left alone to stew in my own thoughts. i did consider the possibility that my test was terminated early and i might've failed.

didn't rly have time to go through all five stages of grief before i was called into the tester's room, where my tester proceeded to go through all my mistakes. when i heard him say "you need to brush up on—", i was cERTAIN that i had flunked. it basically implied "try again next time"???

bUT THEN HE TOLD ME I PASSED??? huhhhh (⚆ᗝ⚆) !!

the next few moments went by in a blur bc i was still trying to process reality. i filled up a survey form, cancelled all my remaining practical sessions, closed my bbdc account, and checked my address so they could mail me my driver's license when it was ready.

and that was it. my year-long (almost) journey at bbdc has now concluded, and i had officially graduated from being an L-plater.

i'm so happy to be freed from after-work driving lessons!! they rly took up quite a lot of my time and energy this whole year. my bank account has also been saved from further debilitating financial damages. ngl i was stressiNG over the possibility of having to spend another $380 to retake the test if i had failed.

what an amazing way to end the year~ ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

obligatory list of mistakes:

forgetting to signal - forgot to signal left when i was navigating along the chevron markings after returning to bbdc.

turned into the wrong lane - got bamboozled by dOUBLE roadworks when i was doing a right turn at a controlled T-junction??? i could hear the kahoot music playing the moment i started doing the turn, except instead of 4 options, i've only got 2. it was a 50-50 chance and i got it wrong (red arrow was what i did, and green was the correct path). 🤡

doing a reverse maneuver while doing directional change - i turned too early and felt like my left wheels were going to strike the kerb so i quickly moved forward and adjusted my position.

going too slow outside the school - it's fine to go slow in the circuit, but i've got to match the speed of the traffic flow outside. i was doing 35~45 kmph on a 70 kmph road LOL.

incorrect blind spot checking

abrupt lane change

braked suddenly - this one was my bad bc while entering the s-course, i accidentally stepped on the accelerator hard, thinking it was my brake pedal, and the car surged forward. luckily i reacted in time and jam braked to avoid hitting or going over the kerb. costed me penalty points but anything is better than an immediate failure.

not giving way to car on major road in the circuit - in my defense, that car looked like it wasn't going to move?? so i moved out?? aND THEN THIS GUY DECIDED TO SPEED UP SO HE WAS CLOSE BEHIND ME??

(in case anyone is mathing it, some of my mistakes didn't count into the final point tally bc i got one-time free passes.)

[virtuissimo]

Fox Curio's Floating Bookshop: Ch.1

I have filled most of a composition book with my playthrough, so I thought I'd digitize my handwritten journal on here. I'm going to skip the first few entries because I was still getting my bearings , since this is the first solo ttrpg I've ever played.

Character: Espuma Pronouns: they/them

Age: Optimistic, not quite young Species: Rabbit

3 items that you always have: Corduroy pants with holes, dented pocketwatch, collared shirt

Bookshop quirks: -During thunderstorms, the roof makes ominous creaking noise. -In strong winds, a mournful singing can be heard.

Items brought into the shop: Knitted rug with hypnotic pattern, porcelain teapot painted by my grandmother, tapestry depicting a beheading, or a group of animals playing with a ball that seems to have a face. hard to tell.

Left by previous owner: -lewd drawing on countertop -a pen that leaves notes to you when you leave the room -a book with a bookmark with the words: "Must tell Ena her grandson stopped by and has urgent news for her."

A quick note on my game: Although I generally try to keep with the easy-breezy cozy vibe the game was designed to accommodate, I couldn't help add other elements to it. There is light romance, a few scary things happen later on, but never too graphic of course. One example that comes up in this entry is that my character has sex, although it's "fade to black" style and is not described at all. The inspirations for the game are very chaste, and even with sex I tried to keep it that way.

3RD DAY OF THAW: GOING TO BED TOWN: THISTLEDOWN

Weather: 3, 10 (Sunny, windy. Pollen thick in the air. Steady customers (4). In the morning, warm.

Tugball has started up again. I played as a kid, but as everyone grew stronger, the athletic cubs stuck with it & I simply did not. I wanted to accomodate them, so I let them play near the raft, but right when they got started I regretted it. Their aim was awful! It was a disaster waiting to happen, but I'd already allowed it.

I opened the store & got to selling. It wasn't as busy as day 1, which was honestly a relief. I'm sure I'll be comfortable with high volume one day, but not today!

A pair of bluebirds came in. They were a young couple, although I'm unsure if they knew it. They wore tugball uniforms & had a flush on their cheeks-- from the warm morning, or the physical exertion of their sport, or the romance? The taller one did most of the talking; he was looking at a history book about the various theories surrounding the stone carvings on Thistledown University.

I asked if he was a student there, and the shorter bird said they both were. The shorter one, Milo, was born in Plenty but moved upriver to complete his studies. That's where the two met. They browsed the selections of books on the topic and stat together on the couch, hardly paying attention to the books and just chatting together. Then they got up to put some books back, but they ended up standing right in front of the bookcase for nearly an hour!

They didn't make much noise, but the "ps-ps" of their whispers bothered some customers. I offered them a cupcake from yesterday to split, & they moved back to the couch, then left. They didn't even buy books! Despite my frustrations, I know that's what this space is for too. It must have been extra convenient next to the tugball game.

Later in the day, a warrior in full plate mail came in. He was fearsome and sterm, though he spoke little. He said hello (I was surprised to hear a pleasantry!) and requested a book on raft-building.

"this is a massive undertaking," I said while I retrieved it. "Where do you plan to go?"

He said, "The Great Sea. I am not an adventurer, or an explorer. But my take amongst animalkind is drawing to a close. We are at peace. I always said I would be glad of it when war was ended. Glad I am, but purposeless too. Perhaps purpose would find me at sea. I come from an old world of fear and pain. I need to see what else there is."

"If you ever come back this way, send word. I'd love to hear what you find."

Penny Whistle came back again! She was very happy with the comic book I recommended yesterday & was hoping for another recommendation. She wanted action/adventure, and I found one that I thought compared with her earlier selection. She asked for a tea & a chat, so we sat down on the couch.

"I'll be moving on soon, but I'm happy your raft turned up before my departure," she said. I was about to thank her, but she went on: "The University's stores were wonderful, magnificent! But I've got all the great, respected works already. Shopping here, to me, is like dumpster-diving for treasures!"

The nerve! We got into a lively argument until she made her purchase & thankfully left. I do not like that woman! But she was sincere, and she told me the argument invigorated her. She was pleased I also expressed myself earnestly. She said perhaps the next time we met, she could tell me about the novel she hopes to write. Well, I'd rather not hear it.

I heard a loud crash. Gah! The tugball players made themselves a nuisance and broke a window! They apologized profusely, & what could I say? I went to work making a makeshift covering to keep winds out at night. I came back in, to find a figure already standing at the till.

I hadn't heard them come in. Cloaked, tall, face obscured. The book in hand was on philosophy. The energy in the room darkened to an earthy brown, such as being safely burrowed beneath ground in the warren of my birth.

I introduced myself, Espuma, as I rang them up. No response. I asked a question about the book. No response. From their paw, I saw they were a mammal, but nothing else. Something about this person was so entrancing to me. Mysterious philosophy-reading stranger. They were about to leave when I grabbed their arm. Oh, Espuma, you fool! I couldn't help myself.

I propositioned the cloaked animal, slowly and without expectation, & when they assented, they placed the philosophy book on my bedside table, and I closed up the shop. We laid together in the dark, and I never learned their face or name.

It was certainly not the first time I'd let libido and impulse take me places I'd never go with clear judgment, and despite the trouble I used to get in my town of birth off-River, I could never bring myself to feel shame or fear about it.

I was unlikely to meet the stranger ever again. The stress of the past few days left my body, & I felt freed to be myself as I started my new life here on the River. I dressed myself, & the figure picked up their philosophy book & walked out. Except, the door was locked, so they had to wait awkwardly for me to bring the key & let them out.

I went into town afterward. The pollen was thick, and many animals wore face coverings to protect from the yellow dust. Perhaps my tall stranger was merely sick with hayfever.

I left a note at the Post office for a glass repairman, but they wouldn't come until tomorrow. I considered buying a bulrush jacket and went in to find Mia, my client from yesterday, but they don't sell them in Bloom. I'd just missed it!

A crowd was formed around one entryway, with many squirrels and hares and frogs in their best suits and dresses. They spoke loudly over each other, some with the carefree languid tones of the uncommitted, and others gesticulated madly, proclaiming with verve. I noticed after that they stood in the doorway of the Lavish Theatre, no doubt performed plays starring the most promising students and alumbs from the ThistleDown school. I was too sleepy to go to the show, but it looked so swanky!

When I got back, two customers were waiting outside. One was shy, didn't speak much, & was clearly afraid of the other creature. I let them in, and the shy creature scampered to the shelves quickly.

The other was a fortune teller. She was a mouse, middle-aged & it showed. She looked like the archetype of a young frightening magician, but past her prime. And yet, she did not yet match the archetype of an old frightening magician. She told me that in the coming weeks, I would find my life in grave danger, but not to worry. friend would save me, no questions asked. She did not wait for a response or glace at my books. She just left.

At least the shy toad bought something.

Till: 232 Book inventory: 415 books left Total customers: 76

[reddyanna300]

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Women's T20 World Cup 2024: Match 1, Bangladesh-W vs Scotland-W Match Prediction – Who will win today’s match between BAN-W vs SCO-W?

Bangladesh Women will take on Scotland Women at the Sharjah Cricket Stadium on October 3, in Sharjah. Bangladesh Women will take on Scotland Women in Match 1 of the Women’s T20 World Cup 2024, at the iconic Sharjah Cricket Stadium, on Thursday, October 3, in Sharjah. The event was scheduled to be held in Bangladesh but the political unrest in the country meant it was shifted to the United Arab Emirates. Nevertheless, the country still plays as the host though not geographically. 

Bangladesh were impressive in the warm-up games. They played two games against Pakistan and Sri Lanka and were victorious on both occasions. They would like to continue their momentum, playing their opening game of the tournament. Scotland are jostled up against the giants like England and West Indies along with Bangladesh in Group B. A win here will just add laurels to an already underdog tag.

Particulars Details

Match Bangladesh women vs Scotland Women, Match 1

Venue Sharjah Cricket Stadium, Sharjah 

Date & Time Thursday, October 3, 3:30 PM

Live Broadcast and Streaming Details,Star Sports Network and Disney+Hotstar

Pitch Report

The Sharjah pitch favors the spinners and the slow turners have had an upper hand while bowling here. But the batters can take heart from the shorter boundaries the ground possesses and can leverage strength if the shot-making gets tougher. The weather will be sunny with temperatures hovering around 36 degrees Celsius.

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