#on the scale of drama this is pretty tiny really

[echoweaver]

For those who responded to my drama about being blocked: Thank you.

You’ve persuaded me to let sleeping dogs lie.

I definitely am the kind of person who would only block due to something really upsetting, but I have unfollowed people for petty reasons, and I have put usernames on the filter in my settings for blogs that don’t interest me that I’m seeing a lot of reblogs of. (That’s pretty much always on finds sites these days because I use XKit to drastically reduce the number of reblogs-without-additional-content that I see.)

It really does bother me to think that I’ve pissed someone off who I don’t even know, especially someone who shares several follows and is commenty like I am. Chatty simblr fans seem like a smaller subculture 😅. 

Also, being that I’m outspoken about my trans wife and joys/struggles surrounding that, there’s always this icky corner that wonders if THAT’s what someone found offensive. (I have no evidence that anyone on tumblr has ever reacted that way, to be clear.)

And finally, I always underestimate how much anxiety I cause myself when I engage in fraught conversation on the Internet. The whole asynchronous, “Say a thing and then wait an undefined time for a response during which you regret all your choices,” is not a good thing for me.

[kckt88]

Scorched Hearts XII

Summary:

'We loved with a love that was more than love - Edgar Allen Poe'

After a confrontation with Daemon, Valaena reveals details of her past with Aemond.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Language, Confrontation, Reminicising, Memories, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Lactation Kink, Fingering, Oral Sex, Smut, P in V, Semi Public, Caught Having Sex.

AEMOND x O.C Niece

Word Count: 4300 (Bit of short one).

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole

Valaena sat beneath the shade of a blossoming tree, the gentle sounds of her children’s laughter filling the garden as Rhaegar and Elaena chased one another in wide, happy circles.

Daenys sat beside Lirri, babbling loudly as she clapped her little hands, her laughter and copious amounts of drool bubbled up as Arro watched over them, a protective shadow nearby.

The hatchlings, Sapphyre, Hūra and Valerion, stretched out in the sun, their wings unfurled to catch the warm rays, with Sapphyre’s watchful eye never leaving Rhaegar.

Above, Valaena caught sight of a large shadow sweeping over the garden—the unmistakable form of Vhagar, gliding through the sky.

Behind her followed Sunfyre, Tessarion, and Dreamfyre, their scaled bodies glinting in the sunlight.

Valaena couldn’t help but smile, thinking of Aemond and his siblings soaring together through the sky, reconnecting in a way that only dragon riders could.

“You have mothers glow my lady” said Lirri softly.

“I-I do?” asked Valaena smiling as she gently rubbed her swollen stomach.

“Yes, I can see why my lord likes to plant seed”

“Lirri-” gasped Valaena blushing.

Rhaegar then trotted up to her, proudly holding out his hand. “Look, Mama. Look!” he exclaimed, a tiny red-and-black insect resting on his palm.

“Oh, how beautiful. Do you know what it is?” Valaena said, leaning towards her son.

“No mama. What is it?” said Rhaegar shaking his head.

“Its called a lady bird”

Rhaegar scrunched his face in confusion. “But birds have feathers,” he said, studying the little bug.

Valaena chuckled softly. “I know, sweetling. But this one isn’t a bird it’s a type of beetle, it’s just named a ladybird,” she explained.

Elaena skipped over; her violet eyes bright as she looked down at her brother’s discovery. “It’s pretty,” she said in awe, reaching out a small finger.

The ladybird crawled delicately over Rhaegar’s hand, and he giggled, his eyes shining. “It tickles, Mama!”

“Did you know that there are some people who say that if a ladybird lands on you, flies off and then lands on another, then that person will be your true love,” Valaena said, smiling as Rhaegar’s eyes grew round with wonder.

“Really?” he asked, wide-eyed.

Valaena nodded, watching the gentle creature as it crawled. “And you see those little spots on her back?” she continued. “People say that’s how old they are. Would you like to count them?”

Rhaegar and Elaena leaned in together, counting in hushed tones as Valaena pointed. “I count five,” she said.

Rhaegar’s face lit up with a delighted grin. “She’s the same age as me!”

“She is,” Valaena agreed.

Rhaegar looked down at the beetle with fondness. “I want to keep her,” he whispered.

Valaena smoothed a hand over his silver hair. “She’s a living creature, my darling, and she needs to be free. She might even have a family somewhere, waiting for her. You wouldn’t want to keep her from them, would you?”

Rhaegar shook his head, his expression turning serious. “No, Mama.”

Valaena placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. “That’s my good boy.”

Together, they watched as the ladybird spread her wings and fluttered into the air, a small red-and-black dot vanishing into the blue.

Rhaegar and Elaena both waved after her, calling out little goodbyes.

But then Valaena felt a presence and looked up to find Daemon standing nearby, watching her.

His expression was unreadable as his gaze shifted from her to her children, lingering on each in turn before settling back on her.

After a few minutes of silent observation, Daemon approached, his gait slow and steady, but Sapphyre alerted by the presence of a stranger snarled loudly, his eyes narrowing with warning.

Rhaegar stepped in, his small voice calm but firm as he commanded, "Lykirī, Sapphyre." Sapphyre’s tail lashed the ground hard, and his teeth were bared but he quickly obeyed, moving to shield his rider. (Be Calm).

Hūra, too, positioned herself protectively in front of Elaena, who clutched her blankey, watching Daemon warily.

Valaena rose, brushing the grass from her skirts, her expression sharp as she turned to Lirri.

"Would you please take the children back to their chambers?"

"Yes, my lady," Lirri replied, scooping Daenys up and offering a hand to Elaena.

With a final scathing glare at Daemon, Rhaegar called, "Māzīs, Sapphyre-" (Come).

As the dragons followed the children, Sapphyre’s gaze locked onto Daemon, viciously snapping at him as he passed.

Only when they were gone did Valaena face Daemon fully, her arms crossing over her chest.

Daemon broke the silence first, his tone stiff. "That boy of yours has a strong bond with his dragon."

Valaena’s eyes were hard. "What do you want, Daemon?"

Daemon shifted, letting out a slow sigh. "I came to apologize for last night. I didn’t mean—"

"-Drunk words are sober thoughts," Valaena cut him off coldly. "You meant every fucking word."

Daemon’s jaw tightened. "Of all the men you could’ve fallen for, why did it have to be him?" he asked, his voice betraying an edge of frustration.

She scoffed. "Does your hatred of Otto Hightower run so deep that you would scorn Aemond without even giving him a chance?”

Daemon’s gaze darkened. “Otto Hightower was a fucking cunt,” he spat, the venom evident in his tone.

"And, I suppose, you believe Aemond to be the same," Valaena shot back.

“That one eyed cunt lured you away from your family” snapped Daemon.

“When are you going to get it through your head that we did what we did because there was no other way for us to be together, you made that perfectly clear when you opened your big mouth last night”

“You allowed yourself to be manipulated-”

“When will you realise that I’m not some weakling maiden who is so easily seduced by sweetened words whispered in my ear” said Valaena.

“He is a slithering green snake who saw an opportunity and he took it” exclaimed Daemon.

“-Why can’t you accept that I’m capable of making my own fucking choices?" snapped Valaena

Daemon sighed, his voice strained. "Valaena, I—"

But she raised a hand, silencing him.

“Arro” said Valaena firmly.

Arro appeared almost instantly, quickly stepping into the garden from the terrace. “Yes, Princess”

"Will you remove this loathsome cur from my sight."

Arro nodded. “Of course, my lady.” He turned to Daemon, his stance firm and unyielding. “This way, Prince Daemon.”

Daemon’s lips thinned, but he turned on his heel and began to walk away.

He had almost reached the edge of the garden when Valaena called, "-Oh and Daemon." He stopped, looking back with an unreadable expression.

"Stay away from my children." Her voice was unyielding, and her gaze unwavering.

Daemon held her gaze for a long, tense moment before he turned and disappeared from the garden without another word.

Valaena sat beside her mother, her fingers tracing absent patterns along her dress, a small ache in her chest as she spoke.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Mother," she murmured, her gaze fixed on the wall "But I couldn’t bear the thought of losing the only man I’ll ever love."

Rhaenyra took her daughter’s hand, her touch warm and gentle. "I know," she whispered, giving Valaena’s hand a small squeeze. Her eyes softened with grief held close. "But thinking I’d lost another daughter-it was a pain beyond anything I’ve ever known. Even when I was young, when I lost my own mother-it never hurt like that-"

Valaena’s gaze softened. "Mother-"

Rhaenyra’s voice wavered, just slightly. "For ten days, I searched for you. I needed to know-to see with my own eyes if you were truly gone, to see of any trace lingered-"

Valaena’s eyes softened. “My cloak-”

Rhaenyra nodded. “It washed up on the shore,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. She reached into her sleeve and produced the broken silver dragon chain, placing it in Valaena’s palm. “I found this, too.”

Valaena’s fingers closed around it, the cool metal familiar in her hand. “You kept it.”

“I couldn’t part with it,” Rhaenyra admitted.

“Mother-”

“-I remember when I first gave it to you—right after you claimed Silverwing.” Her lips curved in a bittersweet smile. “You cried because it was too large for you, but you grew into it soon enough.”

Valaena laughed softly, the memory easing the ache in her chest.

Rhaenyra reached forward, tucking a loose strand of Valaena’s dark hair behind her ear with a tenderness that only a mother could have.

“I know Daemon’s words were harsh,” she continued. “But please, try to forgive him.”

Valaena shook her head. “But he—”

Rhaenyra interrupted, a sadness in her gaze. “In truth, your death hit Daemon harder than he��s ever let on. Having a favourite among one’s children isn’t something one should admit out loud, but you were his. He loved you fiercely, Valaena.”

Valaena’s face softened, though confusion lingered in her eyes. “Then why didn’t he just say that?”

Rhaenyra sighed. “You know how Daemon is. It’s easier for him to show anger than love, especially when he’s hurting.”

Valaena stared at the broken chain, brushing her fingers over the tarnished silver links.

“But why all the anger at Aemond?” Valaena asked, frustration creeping into her voice.

Rhaenyra’s lips pressed together as she thought. “He needs someone to blame. And unfortunately, Aemond is his target.”

“But it’s not Aemond’s fault,” Valaena insisted, exasperated.

Rhaenyra squeezed her hand. “I know that, and so do you. But Daemon has convinced himself that Aemond manipulated you into faking your death.” She scoffed, giving her daughter a knowing smile. “But I know my girl, and there’s no way you would have fallen for such a thing. You are more dragon than most.”

Valaena smiled wryly. “It’s a pity Daemon doesn’t share that same sentiment.”

“I think he still sees you as that little girl who once begged him to teach her how to wield a sword or how to sneak extra helpings of pudding at dinner-"

Valaena smiles at the memory “But it still doesn’t absolve him of the horrible things he said about Aemond”

Rhaenyra shook her head, a bemused smile on her lips. "Oh, don’t you worry my girl there are many ways I can punish him for his slanders,

Valaena wrinkled her nose. "I’m not sure I want to know what that entails."

Rhaenyra laughed, giving her daughter a knowing look. "Oh, don’t be so coy, Valaena. You’re a mother now; you know the workings between a man and wife."

Valaena blushed, smiling in spite of herself. "In all fairness, Mother, I was doing those things with Aemond long before we became husband and wife."

Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow, glancing around to make sure they were alone before she leaned in closer. "And how is it, between the two of you? Is he a giving lover?"

A deep blush crept over Valaena’s cheeks. "Are we really having this conversation?"

"Why not?" Rhaenyra grinned. "You’re my daughter; we can talk about anything. So, is he?"

A soft, shy smile played on Valaena’s lips. "Yes. Aemond is very giving."

Rhaenyra laughed, delighted. "It feels good to be desired does it not?”

Valaena nods “Yes, its certainly does”

Rhaenyra reached for a cup of wine and offered one to Valaena who politely declined, she then took a deep breath “So tell me about you and Aemond-”

Valaena’s eyes sparkled as she watched her mother lean in, her curiosity piqued. "What do you want to know, Mother?" she asked with a soft laugh.

Rhaenyra took a moment to consider. "When was your first kiss?"

Valaena’s gaze grew distant, a gentle smile appearing on her lips as she recalled the memory. “It was just before you took us to Dragonstone. We went to the weirwood tree, and he promised me that when we were grown, we’d get married” She paused, a light blush colouring her cheeks. “-And then we kissed. It was only a quick peck on the lips, but it was the first.”

Rhaenyra smiled, both tender and amused. "You were so young then.”

Valaena’s blush deepened. “Yes, but it meant everything at the time.”

Rhaenyra seemed to study her daughter’s face, taking in the depth of her emotions. “And after Driftmark?” she asked carefully. “How did your friendship survive?”

“Aemond knew I wasn’t to blame for what happened,” Valaena replied softly. “He knew I tried to help him. For a while, it was just letters—our way of staying close. I’d write to him, and he’d write back-”

“How did you manage to keep that quiet, surely I would have noticed your regular correspondence?”

“Oh, well I would send them under the guise of writing to Helaena, and it was Maester Gerardys who would send them for me, until I got a little older anyway and then I sent them myself and I may or may not have said if anyone found out then I’d feed them to Silverwing-”

“Maester Gerardys?” asked Rhaenyra her eyebrows raised.

“Yes. He’s a good man mother” replied Valaena.

“I know he is. So how did the relationship between you and Aemond progress?” Rhaenyra asked, her voice soft with curiosity.

“When I was old enough to ride Silverwing on my own, we would arrange to meet in secret,” Valaena said, a wistful smile playing at her lips.

“So that’s where you would disappear too” said Rhaenyra wistfully.

“In the beginning we just spent time with each other, he struggled a lot after he lost his eye. Small things were harder for him, and there were times where I would just read to him, or he’d lie with his head in my lap while I stroked his hair.”

Rhaenyra’s expression softened. “I never knew the extent of his suffering-”

Valaena met her mother’s eyes with a gentle but pointed look. “Because you didn’t want to.”

Rhaenyra’s lips parted, a faint regret shadowing her gaze. “And then?”

“One night, he came to me crying,” Valaena said, her voice a whisper. “Aegon had taken him to a brothel and paid the madame to lay with him.”

Rhaenyra gasped, covering her mouth. “He was only a boy-”

“Yes,” Valaena replied, her tone tinged with sadness. “He was so disgusted with himself, and he told me that he didn’t want to see me anymore. He was afraid that he’d taint me, that he was no longer worthy. But I refused to let him go”.

Rhaenyra reached out and squeezed her daughter’s hand. “Oh, my sweet girl.”

“All I wanted was for him to trust me and he did”

“You must have meant a great deal to him,” said Rhaenyra.

“I’d like to think so”

“When did things change between the two of you?” asked Rhaenyra.

“It started off with little things at first, like holding hands as we sat together or he would put his arm around me when I read to him, we would even spar with one another from time to time-wooden swords of course but the fact that he didn’t just see me as a girl, but a worthy opponent meant the world-”

“-Carry on” urged Rhaenyra, her chin resting upon her hand as she listened.

 “One day we were sparring and he tripped me, but I was determined that I wasn’t going to go down alone, so I grabbed him and pulled him down with me, we landed in a heap in the sand, we started laughing and then he kissed me” said Valaena fiddling with the rings on her fingers.

“And the first time between the two of you?”

“We first laid together just after I turned five and ten-”

Rhaenyra’s brows lifted slightly, concern mingling with curiosity. “And you were alright?”

“Yes. He was gentle, patient and nervous, but it was something that we both wanted”

“That’s good” whispered Rhaenyra.

“Yes, Mother-he took care of me” Valaena’s expression softened with the memory. “After that we learned about each other together, but we soon realized that we needed somewhere private to be-just us, and that’s how we found our place”

“Our place?” Rhaenyra repeated with a curious soft smile.

Valaena chuckled. “There was an old cabin near Wendwater. It wasn’t in the best shape, but we spent time fixing it up, making it something liveable” She paused. “-But It became our sanctuary—a place where we could just be ourselves, without the fear of discovery.”

Rhaenyra looked at her daughter, her smile tinged with admiration and sadness. “And when did you first know that you loved him?”

Valaena’s face softened. “I think I’ve always loved him.”

Rhaenyra sighed, a half-smile on her lips. “And what does he feel for you?”

Valaena smiled mischievously. “You’d have to ask him.”

“Oh, believe me,” Rhaenyra said with a wry grin. “I will.”

The sun cast a warm, golden glow over King’s Landing as Valaena stood on the balcony of her chambers, watching the evening bustle below.

She felt a familiar presence before she heard him, the soft creak of the door, the purposeful sound of boots across the stone floor, and then a pair of strong arms wrapping around her waist.

Aemond’s lips found her neck, leaving a trail of warm, tender kisses.

“Did you enjoy spending time with your brothers and sister?” she asked, a smile playing on her lips as she leaned back against him.

Aemond nuzzled into her neck, sighing with satisfaction. “Yes. It felt good, all of us flying together. It made me realize how much I missed them.”

She laughed softly. “Even Aegon?”

Aemond gave a small, reluctant chuckle. “Yes, even him. But don’t you dare tell him.”

“I won’t,” she promised, grinning.

He tilted his head, looking at her curiously. “And what did you do today, my love?”

“I spent time with the children in the garden, had a bit of a disagreement with Daemon, and then a long talk with my mother.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow. “You argued with Daemon?”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she said, brushing it off lightly.

Aemond slid his hands over her rounded belly, resting them there as he buried his face in her hair, breathing her in. “Gods, you smell divine.”

“I recently bathed,” she replied, smiling.

Gently, he turned her around to face him, cupping her face as he leaned in to kiss her, slow and tender.

Resting his forehead against hers, his gaze was intense and filled with a reverence that made her heart race.

“Gods, you’re so beautiful,” Aemond murmured, his voice rough. “Ñuha ābrazȳrys, ñuha jorrāelagon.” (My wife, my love).

Valaena smiled, her fingers grazing his cheek. “Ñuha valzȳrys, ñuha zaldrīzes.” (My husband, my dragon).

With a quiet growl, he pulled her closer, his lips capturing hers with a passionate intensity. His hands travelled up her sides as he began to trail kisses along her jaw, his breath hot against her skin.

“I want you” he whispered, his voice a low murmur against her ear.

Valaena’s hands slid into his long silver hair, tangling in the strands as she pulled him close. “Pār emagon nyke” (Than have me).

Aemond guided Valaena backward toward their bed, his hands deftly slipping her nightdress from her shoulders, letting the fabric glide over her skin and pool softly around her feet.

Her gaze remained fixed on him as she sat down on the bed, watching as he unfastened his riding leathers, the dark material sliding off to reveal his lean, yet muscled frame.

Finally, he reached up, fingers lingering for a moment, and slipped off his eyepatch, leaving himself entirely bare before her.

Valaena reached forward, her hands settling on his hips, pulling him close. Her lips brushed softly against his stomach, trailing tender kisses along his skin.

She nuzzled into the faint line of hair that traced down from his navel, feeling him shiver at her touch.

Aemond’s hands gently cradled Valaena’s face, his gaze warm and intent as he guided her down onto the bed.

He settled her against the soft linens, his touch reverent as he brushed his fingers along her jawline, tracing a path down her shoulder and along her arm.

His eye never left hers, conveying a quiet depth of feeling that words couldn’t capture.

He leaned over her, supporting his weight on one arm, and lowered his face to cover her body with his as he sucked and licked at the delicate skin of her neck, leaving red marks in his wake.

Valaena moved her head to the side and moaned loudly as she felt Aemond’s teeth nipping at her skin.

Aemond then moved down to lick her nipples, he couldn’t contain his excitement as he went back and forth between her wonderful, enlarged breasts that nourished their daughter.

“Oh” muttered Valaena as she flung her arms over her face, as pearly white liquid began to leak from her breasts, running down her body in rivulets.

Aemond eagerly ran his tongue over the milk that had dripped from his wife’s rosy nipples and delighted in the sweetened taste.

“Hmmm” moaned Aemond as he continued to lick and suckle at her breasts, gorging himself on her milk, his hard cock pressed against her thigh.

His tongue swirling around her stiffened peaks, his teeth scraping against her skin, the sounds of him swallowing.

“Ohhh-A-Aemond” gasped Valaena.

“What is it my love?”.

“Don’t stop-please, oh gods-don’t stop” exclaimed Valaena as she arched her back, her cunny clenching around nothing as she unexpectedly climaxed.

“Did you just-peak?” asked Aemond smirking as he released her nipple with a soft pop.

“Yes” replied Valaena, her cheeks tinged pink.

“Well, that’s never happened before-” muttered Aemond he moved forward and kissed her passionately, his tongue invading her mouth.

“I-I don’t know what come over me-” replied Valaena softly.

“Don’t be embarrassed-I liked it” said Aemond as he began to move down her body, nibbling her at her skin as he went.

He paused at her swollen stomach and placed a series of gentle kisses upon the stretched skin, marvelling at the wonder that was his wife who had already birthed three of his children and was now expecting their fourth.

“That feels nice” whispered Valaena as she closed her eyes.

“Does this feel nice?" asked Aemond, spitting on her cunny before he ran the flat of his tongue up her soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.

“Oh, my god” moaned Valaena her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“That’s it my sweet. Let me hear you”. 

“YES! It feels so good. Don’t stop. Aemond. Please” begged Valaena.

"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Valaena, running his tongue along every fold.

"More" panted Valaena. "Please. I need more”.

Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds.

“Oh, fuck" whimpered Valaena; her chest heaving.

 Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat.

“I can’t wait to get my cock inside you. I don’t want to wait any longer, peak for me baby,” moaned Aemond, his face pressed between her shaking thighs.

Valaena arched  her back and screamed as her climax washed over her.

Aemond pumped slowly and lapped at her centre as she squirted all over his face.

“P-Please A-Aemond. Need you-” begged Valaena.

Aemond rose to his knees, his chin shining with her slick, he smirked as he swiped his fingers over his chin and then placed them in his mouth.

Aemond moved up Valaena’s body pausing to grasp hold of her left breast as he ran his tongue over the rosy nipple, his teeth grazing the stiffened peak.

“Oh-yes“ gasped Valaena, as he moved to the other breast and lavished it with the same attention.

Aemond then manoeuvred her body on top of his.

“I want you to ride me-” exclaimed Aemond as he lined up his cock with her entrance and sheathed himself inside her with one hard thrust.

Valaena moaned as Aemond dug his fingers into her hips and helped her move on his cock.

"Please don't stop," cried out Valaena.

"I have no intention of stopping" growled Aemond, his feet planted firmly on the bed to allow him to increase the pace of his thrusts.

Valaena braced her hands on his chest as she rolled her hips against his, oblivious to the sound of the door slowly opening.

A satisfied smile spread across Aemond’s face as he looked towards the door.

He quickly sat up, wrapping his mouth around one of Valaena’s rosy nipples. His teeth and tongue teasing the stiffened peak, before he moved to the lavishing it with the same attention.

“Gods-yes Aemond” shrieked Valaena as she moved on his cock, her hands coiled in is long silver hair.

“That’s it-take all of me” growled Aemond laying back down as he moved Valaena’s hips in time with his own thrusts.

“Oh gods-” wailed Valaena.

“-FUCK Valaena” groaned Aemond, his gaze flickering to the door.

“P-Please Aemond. Don’t stop. Don’t stop-“ whimpered Valaena.

“Come for me-” growled Aemond as he felt her clenching around him.

“AEMOND” screamed Valaena as she exploded, her nails digging into his chest.

With a final hard thrust, Aemond’s eye rolled into the back of his head as he exploded spilling rope after rope of his seed.

But then-

“S-Sister?”

Valaena’s head whipped to the side, her heart plummeting as she caught sight of Jacaerys and Luke frozen in the doorway, mouths agape and their faces reddening.

Horror gripped her, and a loud, panicked shriek escaped her as she fumbled to cover herself, her hands flying to shield her exposed skin.

She stayed seated upon Aemond, who, unfazed, simply leaned back against the headboard, his expression calm, one arm folded behind his head.

“Nephews,” Aemond drawled, a smirk dancing at the corners of his mouth.

TBC

[synced-love]

Astrology Observations - Air Sign Edition

I feel that most Aquarius fall into 2 categories. The Aquarius who was shamed for being themselves when they were young so they retreated and just acted like everyone else or the Aquarius who embraces their differences. They would rather be alone and themselves than with everyone in the world and be someone else. The first type usually grows out of that follower mentality and embraces their differences. Aquariuses are really trendsetters, I know 2 girls who got these cool hairstyles, and a month later, everyone in school copied them.

Most Libras fall into 2 categories. The stereotypical flirty pretty type who can be a tiny bit ditzy but is actually pretty smart and analytical or a person who grows up being seen as ugly or less desirable and they go through a major glow-up, physically and mentally. Also, Libras aren't as social as people say, especially the ones with heavy Virgo/Scorpio placements which are pretty much inevitable seeing as they are the 2 signs that sandwich Libra.

There's also 2 categories of Gemini. The talkative, kind of 2 faced, always in the middle of drama, person or the unique person who is weird and actually really smart despite what they look or speak like. One of my friends is a Gemini and he can freestyle on the spot with just a word. An example of a very weird but creative person would be Aurora.

Gemini and Libra are usually given the world prize of being two-faced but they aren't. Gemini's are represented by the twins which means they can be multiple people at once. they are talkative and want to relate with as many people as they can, they are the youngest air sign. Libra is represented by the scales which means they have a dual nature. they can see John's POV and Sarah's POV even if Sarah is their best friend and John is their worst enemy. They want to evaluate both sides of the argument so don't think they're fake when they tell you you're wrong.

Air signs often get coined as the most detached signs but the reason why their so detached is because they want to try different things and you can't try something new if you're always worried about who's back home. also their very out-of-sight, out-of-mind people. meaning if they aren't with you or reminded of you, they forget you exist.

More on the trendsetter conversation Libra and Aquariuses are often the main slayers of the zodiac. Libra being Venus ruled and exalted in Saturn gives them an eye for beauty and what it takes to get there. Libras are often associated with more traditional and conventional beauty and can be eccentric but usually in a consumable way. an extreme example is Doja Cat. Aquariuses have more to do with unique fashion and weird things working somehow. they rule over the 11th house which means they are very influential. an example would be Seulgi.

One more thing about the detachment, I feel like most people I fell out with have air placements, and when I say fall out I mean we just stopped talking out of nowhere and never contacted each other again. I'm a Libra sun and my friend is also a Libra, we're best friends but only speak once in a blue moon. I also had another friend who was a Gemini and we just stopped talking out of nowhere, no bad blood but we just stopped speaking.

[echantedtoon]

Ocean Deep Ch3 Spectacles And Scales P2

(Warnings for mistreatment of the mers by the sideshow owner and some of the other people, Buying and selling of mers, mentions of mermen sinking ships and hurting people, the mers are in bad shape, etc.

To which Y/n makes a decision that will change her life forever.)

The sun beamed brightly on the world. Bright, big, beautiful, warm, and good enough to chase away the darkness away. Leaving behind a world filled with wonder to be explored and sights to see. The rainbow kaleidescope of colors kissing the light good morning bloomed widely. The rainbow of soft petals were only highlighted by dew drops sparkling bright like a gift from heaven. A sight drawing over many buyers. To hold their beauty. Smell their heavenly fragrance. Present them as gorgeous gifts for loved ones or use to decorate for symbolic occasions. 

Fingertips gently slid under the delicate pink of a primrose, tilting  it's gorgeous head up to a beautiful smiling face before gentle water rained down onto its delicate body but not hard enough to harm its delicate frame. 

"You grew up so pretty. You'll be even prettier once you get to your new home later today, all planted in the soft dirt and being taken cared of by nice people. Such pretty colors too. I envy your simple life."

"You always compliment those buds like real children." F/c eyes looked up and over at kind black ones crinkled up in a smile. 

Her boss was standing up and above a table with a secondary teapot in her hands, water flowed freely from the spout and ran into a number of giant pots filled with soft dirt and blooming rose bushes. Blooming with life and ready to be hauled away to their forever home. A place to belong and live out the rest of their lives in peace and quiet. The elderly woman smiled at them fondly as if they were her own children and treated them with as much care and kindness as a mother should. She admired her for that. Her wise demeanor was just a shell hiding her much kinder demeanor. An old hand reached out to nudge between the small branches to pull off a dead leaf free from the overall plant before just letting it fall into the pot to naturally become fertilizer. 

"Well they say plants like it when you talk to them. I don't know if that's true but it wouldn't hurt, and I don't think they really mind." 

Your smile turned back to the tiny bud that hasn't bloomed yet. Today was the day. After two weeks of caring for the rose bushes, they were going to be delivered to their final forever home. This evening your boss's son would be stopping by to take these potted plants back towards their home on the very far end of town. The horse and cart was already provided for being left outside all ready to go. All the owner needed was for her son to get here, load the six heavy pots into the cart, and then take them to the Henya residence which was on the very edge of town. But you did have a problem with that you hadn't asked yet-

Your boss chuckled. "I suppose so. You'd be surprised by the facts in those rumors."

"Isn't the Henya family gonna be gone for the next month? I thought they were attending a funeral."

The older woman nodded still smiling. "Yes. But Mrs. Henya is staying behind to care for their business in her husband's absence."

That was the second biggest news you've ever heard around here in the past three weeks other than that one day Akira came prancing about through town throwing around fliers advertising the 'grand opening' which now had to be put on hold due to some personal family drama. Being a small town the gossip spread quickly and, according to the rumors, Akira's great grandfather and patriarch of the Henya family passed away a few days ago. So Akira, his parents, and Uncle would all be leaving to travel a few towns over for the funeral and to take care of the family's assets. That'd take a while considering so you were unsure if anyone would be even there to accept the order, but apparently not. 

"Will she even be there when he delivers it?"

"Last I heard she's seeing them off as far as the beach but she'll be there when the delivery's made." She smiled assuringly. "So don't worry."

Well you were unsure about that, but this wasn't your business and you didn't run it. You were only paid to help care for the flowers, not give your opinion on how to run your boss's business. And right now you were just paid to water these beauties before they had to leave the shop. 

So it was your morning was just bliss. Quiet, serene, and happy as you hummed away doing your normal rounds. Uninterrupted other than the occasional humming and comment between the both of you. Another normal day in anyone's opinion. 

"Y/n." You had stopped hours later in the middle of moving one of the pots towards the door in order to make it's journey to the wagon outside easier and shorter for Mrs. Satoshi's son. However your boss had other ideas when she held up a tray of fruit and small tea set. "Come take a break and have lunch with me. You must be tired from lugging around those heavy pots so much."

You were glad for the break after setting the third to last heavy pot near the door and gladly taking the break to eat and take a breather before having to move the last two pots. Thank goodness that the bushes were still relatively small, had they been fully grown then they'd weigh a LOT more. But for now the tired mouth would enjoy her feast of apples and green tea with honey. A nice snack for her efforts. The sweet fruit tasted delicious to your tongue and the tea was just as sweet but a little bitter. Mrs. Satoshi only smiled at you as you ate. 

"It's always good to build up a healthy appetite after a hard day's work. Keeps the body strong," she spoke while pouring a second cup of tea for herself. You hummed in agreement. "Oh. Did you hear what happened to a ship in the Seabound River?"

You blinked confused before swallowing the food in your mouth. "Seabound River? Isn't that the giant river that connects to the ocean a few miles away from here?" You didn't know about that rive but you knew that the small river near your woods connected to the bigger river that lead to the bigger one that connected to the ocean.

She nodded again. "There's been a few ships that's been getting attacked and sunk by a siren."

You paused mid bite staring. "Sirens?"

"Or mermaids. I honestly can't tell the difference." She shrugged holding the warm cup to her face. "I just know there's been reports of two of them running..or I should say swimming ramped along the beach and near the entrance of the Seabound River. Attacks any ship leaving or trying to enter port."

You stared stunned at her blinking. "Really? Why would they do that?"

"I'm not entirely sure. Usually they wouldn't be near humans at all let alone sinking ships. Who knows what strange things those creatures get up to?"

Huh. That WAS strange. Granted you didn't know that much about sirens and mermaids, but it was strange two of them would suddenly start sinking ships. Maybe they were trying to claim new territory for themselves? Maybe the fishermen made them angry? Well it didn't really affect you, so you didn't worry about it too much and you weren't going to be going near any big bodies of water anytime soon so you shouldn't be worried about it. You just needed to concentrate yourself with taking care of your own needs and wants. 

A few more hours passed by leisurely. You finished moving the pots by the door, helped trim away some other plants, and had just finished selling a handful of carnations to a customer who had just walked in last minute as evening approached.

"Thanks for coming! Have a nice day!," you called out to the retreating customer waving, "Come back soon!"

Your boss quietly came out from the back with a small bag of fertilizer. The smell hit you before you saw her crinkling your nose up from the foul smell. "Was that Niko just now?" Her son? You shook your head snorting the smell away. A slightly worried look passed over her face before looking towards the open door. "It's gotten very late in the day. I wonder where he could be?"

"I'm sure he'll be here before the day's over. He's probably just running late tending to someone."

She hummed. "I suppose so. He does run his own farm..Oh I do hope nothing bad happened."

"He's probably just busy tending to his crops and lost track of time. There's nothing to worry about, Mrs. Satoshi."

"I .. suppose you're right. But it's getting late, and I need to start getting home to my husband before dark. You know how he hates the thought of me staying out after dark especially with the recent disappearance of those poor Kocho girls. I also can't just stay all day waiting for Niko."

Ah. That's right. People were still on edge about that happening. You honestly felt bad for the old woman and her husband. They were some of the kindest people in your town. "I'm sure he'll be here before it gets dark. He knows how important this is to you."

"Important is an understatement. I have a lot of money invested into this delivery. I'd hate to lose business with so much involved." She gently plopped the bag over by some empty pots so be used in them later you supposed.

You hummed. "...Why don't I close for you?" She turned to you surprised. "You shouldn't worry your husband like that. I can stay until Niko arrives and close up for you."

"Oh no, Dear. I couldn't ask you to do that."

"It's not a problem. I'd be happy to help." 

"Well if you're sure you don't mind."

"I'm positive! You go on home before you worry someone. I'll be fine."

And that's how you found yourself sweeping the dirt out of the front door a few hours later and looking up at the sky. It looked like sunset had just started making the sky change different colors and people were already starting to head home to lock their doors until morning in fear of the monsters roaming around the dark. However f/c eyes wondered from the sky to just in front of the small shop only to widen seeing a small brown and white horse tied to a post, where it had been staying almost all day hooked up to a cart and ready to be taken out. Except that the man that was supposed to be here loading up all of the pots into the cart and taking them away wasn't here. STILL.

Niko still hasn't arrived yet? But it'd be dark just in an hour or so. Where was he? You took a look back inside at all six pots still sitting there waiting to be taken away. By the time Niko got here, if he even bothered to show up,  it'd be too dark to do anything. The order would be late, and there would be money lost. You felt a pit form in your guts. This was a big order with lots of money. A lost order would mean lost money for your sweet boss but more importantly it'd also mean a lost bonus for you too! You could use the extra money for repairs to your family house. Or to save for your retirement. Or for the future family you eventually wanted. Or literally anything else. It'd be putting a lot in jeapordy if they weren't delivered as promised but yhrtr wasn't anyone else to...

You again looked between the pots and pony. 

..No. This was a bad idea. It was almost dark. Creatures lurked in the dark. You could be the next one to be snatched away never to be seen again! ...but then again this WAS a lot of money. And you'd be in town surrounded by people who could help if you were in danger. If you hurried maybe you'd even get home before the moon was fully out..Your mind heavily weighed the options as you already made for the pots and struggled to lift the first heavy one into your arms and half waddled from the weight out the door and over to the cart, struggling to lift it high enough to place it in the back. The pony briefly looked up at the jostling of the cart but quickly lost interest. One by one all six were placed in the back, and the shop closed. The only movements the pony made was walking where hands pulled it after the reigns were untied from the post. 

"Come on. We're gonna go on a little adventure. Ok? It's only going to be twenty minutes tops."

Your choice had been made. Convincing yourself that this would only be a quick visit. Ordinary and nothing would happen.

Oh how naive you were.

The wheels on the cart squeaked and rattled from the weight of the pots. The hooves of the horse clip clipped noisily echoing down the dark streets- Alright. They weren't that noisy or loud but with the quietness of the practically deserted streets devoid of human life. Every small noise felt like it was as loud as a thunder clap. Maybe it was just the paranoia and fear of the dark that got you thinking this way but you couldn't help it. The sun had completely set within a few minutes of you walking down the dirt roads, pulling the horse along slowly to avoid jostling the pots in the back in case you hit a pothole. Leaving you encased in darkness. Everyone had slowly made their way into the safety of the dark homes hidden away until the next morning. Like you should be doing, and you were starting to regret your choice but it was too late now. 

The shadows danced as moonlight shown down along the dark homes you passed. Dancing with the stars and laughing in glee with the darkness on the ground as the moon and stars above shined down watching their sinister dances as an audience would a beautiful ballet. It was very pretty in a way but your mind only focused on high alert with the possible dangers within the shadows. Every alleyway felt like a hiding place for a monster. Every shadow a trap. And the light not much of a beacon of hope. A shudder ran down your spine with your only companion being a horse that could care less about anything around it. Yeah. What a great way to spend your night. However luck seemed to be on your side. You knew exactly where you had to go. The very last house on the far right side of town. All you had to do was drop them off and then head home. Perfect. Now only if you could hurry up a bit faster. Home after home passed. All completely dark or have one last light on in the window that would soon be out. Looked more friendly in the daylight. The cart and it's cargo walked past silently like the lone figure in the town slowly but surely a small opening  at the end gave way and a house farther away from the rest of the others could be seen. 

You've never been here before but it must've been the right place. A lone house like the others in town was nestled about twenty feet away from the others. A few feet away from the home was a rather large barn and next to that was a large smokehouse. Ah right. Akira's family was made of mostly fishermen. So it made sense to have a smokehouse and a large barn for storage. The home was already very dark as you slowly approached making it look creepy and sent a shudder through your body. You Willed yourself to approach the empty home pulling the horse with you until you stopped just a few yards away from the door. Looking at the home, it was entirely pitch black on the inside and completely silent. Hesitantly you left the cart giving the horse a few pats on its neck.

Slow steps brought your form to the front door where you stared at it for a long moment before with a inhale you reached out to loudly but gently knock on the door. The knocks creepily echoed throughout the dark home but it was surely loud enough for anyone to hear. 

"Hello? Mrs. Henya!," you called out gently wincing at how much louder your voice was in the silence. "Special delivery!"

No one answered. Not surprising since Akira's family was supposed to be out of town for a funeral but wasn't his aunt still supposed to be home? You slowly found yourself drawn to a nearby window where you cupped your eyes to peek in. It might've been wrong but you wanted to see if anyone else was home. In the darkness you saw the typical living room. A giant rug, fireplace, a few paintings on the walls, and a table with a vase in the left corner but no living person. The place was empty, and dark without any lights or fire in the fireplace. Looked deserted. Either no one was home or Mrs. Henya was ignoring you or was a very deep sleeper. Well..Niko was going to just leave the plants here for her anyways right? You'd just leave them somewhere easy to find. But just in case- You went back to Knock just a little louder on the door.

"I'm just going to leave the pots outside! Ok?!"

You of course never got an answer from the most likely empty home, but you figured it was best to let it be known that the delivery was made just in case. F/c eyes scanned around the dark area squinting with the limited light. You supposed you could just leave them right here by the house but they'd be right in the walk way. ...You decided the best place to leave them was a few feet away from the door off to the side to avoid anyone tripping over them. All you had to do was to just place the pots on the ground and leave. Easy. The hard part would only be to take the pots out of said cart. With a sigh, you approached the cart again reaching inside and lifting out the first pot with some difficulty. The pot was heavy on your arms, making you curse Niko for not doing this himself and eventually somehow managing to pull it out, nearly dropping it, and half struggled to get it the few feet over to plop it down with the grass. 

One down. Five more to go.

With a sigh your hands rubbed your sore back before you repeated the process again a second time. In the struggle of removing the third from the back you first heard it. A loud sound that shook you to the core-

"AAAAHHH!!"

It made the horse jostle and move back hitting your chest hard enough with the cart to make you let go of the pot. A loud THUD sound echoed throughout the night from the heavy pot being dropped back into the wagon. The wailing sounds carried along the air dying out as quickly as it came. Leaving behind nothing but a spooked pony and a pair of f/c looking up at the sky.

....What. Was. THAT?!

SNORT!! The horse stepped a little moving the cart backwards until you grabbed it quickly. 

"D-Don't do that! I still have a job to do! B-B-Besides that's just the w-wind. O-Or a bobcat."

It was a failed attempt to assure yourself. Wind. It was just the wind and your paranoia. Third pot was taken out. Just three more. Another wail desperately clawed the wind. Just your imagination. Fourth pot out and placed out. Another wail- JUST THE WIND!! Fifth pot out . Silence. Oooook? Last pot- You struggled to get it out tired from the last five, but somehow managed to get it out and onto the ground with the others. Your body was exhausted. Her body collapsed to the ground back resting again the wheel of the cart panting and catching your breath. There. It was done. You didn't have to worry about anything except how sore you'd be tomorrow.

"S-See? N-Nothing happened," you spoke out to no one in particular.

Of course no one answered back and certainly not the horse. The animal did nothing as the woman pulled herself from the ground like a fly in a glue trap. Rubbing her sore body all over with one hand while reaching out the other to pat it's neck before taking it's reigns. Time to go home and get some rest. You coaxed the pony forward again slowly walking on sore feet back towards the town and passing by the large barn on the way-

"AAAAAAHHHHHH HAHAHAAAAAAA!!!!!"

The horse reared up nearly pulling you forward with it, but luckily your dead weight and sudden tight grip on the reigns kept it from running off. You froze solid. Body freezing up like solid ice as a loud wail echoed throughout the air and this time-

And it didn't stop.

Wailing echoed out in the air and was followed by sounds of louder more sorrowful screams. You stared silently not really processing the noise filtering through for a long while. Until slowly, slowly. Your head slowly turned up to the big barn. It's shadow falling over you. That sounded like...

Crying???

Sobs. Loud and heavy. Echoed out from inside the barn. You stood there dumbfounded and numbly processing the realization until another one hit you. That..

That sounded like a woman.

The thought stunned you. Why would there be a woman crying in the Henya's barn? Was someone hurt? Did they need help? Should you go get help? A bad feeling settled in your guts. Something WAS wrong here. And you didn't like it. You should leave it alone. It wasn't your business. This wasn't your problem. You shouldn't involve yourself..But what if someone WAS hurt? They could be in danger. They could die. What if by the time you got help it was too late? 

You should leave

Hands found themselves of the door handles leading into the barn. "H-Hello? Mrs. Henya!?" No one answered. You gently pulled the door only to be surprised when you met resistance. "... It's Locked?" You rattled the door harder and then noticed the giant lock and thick chains wrapped around the handles from their rattling noise.

Why was the barn locked with chains thick enough to hold a grown bull?

You let go of the door and briefly pressed your head to the door. The crying was still present. Was someone locked up in there? That thought startled you. Why would someone be locked up inside the barn? This was only more confusing than scary now. But if someone still needed help then you should at least make sure they were ok. Right? F/c eyes spotted a window just on the other side of the door. Wouldn't hurt to just look would it? Slowly you approached the glass bracing yourself for the worst in case you'd see something awful. You poked your head into the window seeing your reflection in the moonlight, before cupping your face against the glass and straining to look in. There was something that got your brows raising but it wasn't someone hurt or dying on the ground. The dark barn was full of typical things. Hay piked against the far right wall. A couple farming tools lining another wall. A few buckets and other random objects randomly tossed across the floor. Nothing really out of the ordinary for a barn.

Except for the giant curtain dangling from the rafters effectively blocking the back of the barn from sight.

...Why was that there? That didn't make any sense. The 'curtains' looked like a bad mesh of dirty old tarps and fish nets clumped together nailed from the rafters halfhazardly. Now that wasn't typical for a barn. What was it blocking?....F/c eyes traveled down to the edge of the window. It was one of those giant sideways sliding ones. It was big enough for you to climb through if it opened. ...This was a bad idea. You shouldn't do this. But-

Hands slowly grabbed the window and tugged, and to your surprise it slid open without resistance. It opened a little.. Before you slowly slid it all the way open wide enough for you to lift your leg up and push it quietly through the frame before grabbing the side and quietly pulling the rest of the way in. You quietly swung your other leg in to sit on the windowsill before sliding off. Your feet landed on the dirt floor with a soft thud. Not that anyone seemed to notice.

The crying continued.

It was still present. And now that you were in the barn, you could hear it much, much more clearly. Sobbing. Hard sobbing and crying coming from the back of the barn. That... wasn't the wind. Or a bobcat. It sounded like a young woman. Slowly your feet softly approached the curtain.

"I-I..*GGGAAAASSSPPP* I w-want to go h-hooooooome!!! AAAAHHH!!"

You jumped startled at the sudden voice. Now THAT really sounded like a young woman. You almost jumped again as a second voice groaned out admist the crying and ugly sobs.

"Will. You. Give it a dam rest already?!," a second voice shouted out. This one sounded like another woman but it sounded different from the other still sobbing woman. "That's all you've been doing for days on end!! You don't think the rest of us want to get out of this hellhole?!"

"H-Hey. Calm down. Ok?" Another new voice??? This one sounded different than the first two. So..three women?! You blinked confused before slowly approaching. "Fighting... isn't going to make a-any of this better."

"It's easy for you to say!! Maybe you can stand being stuck for days on end on a tiny space with her crying your ears off but I've had it!!! I can't stand it anymore than I can stand this stupid, stupid dam tub!!"

"AAAHH- S-STOP IT!! Y-Y-YOU'RE BEING MEEEAAANNN!!"

"IM BEING MEAN!? OH I'LL SHOW YOU MEAN!!"

Your hands gently grabbed the makeshift curtains and pulled back-

"Makio, stop-!!"

S P L A S H!!!

You weren't sure what happened. One moment you were pushing yourself in- And then a squeal left your throat as at least three barrels worth of water came raining down on you. The weight of the water as well as your surprise made you fall to the ground face first. A cross between a SPLAT sound, a THUD sound, and a massive pile of water being spilt sounded out through the barn as you felt to the ground...And silence resumed.

COUGH COUGH?!?!

You pushed yourself off of the floor coughing and spitting out the vile taste of dirty water from your mouth as you spit and sputtered. Soaked. In just one second your body was ninety none percent soaked through your dress as if you had jumped into a lake. Coughing and spitting out water your hands reached out to push away the long hair over your face. Narrowed eyes glaring at whoever was responsible for this..Only to once again pause. You did see someone. You.

No. A reflection of you.

A reflection of your soggy poor self was barely illuminated in the dark by the limited moonlight in the dark. It was..A block of dirty glass?? Upon further inspection you saw it wasn't dirt ON the glass but dirty water BEHIND the glass. It was a large...Box of dirty water? You blinked staring at it longer before hearing a sniffle sound and snapping your head up.

Three pairs of eyes stared back down at you.

There. Was. Three. Women. Staring at you from the inside of the...glass box full of dirty water?? You could only stare in shock. The faces also stared back at you in shock. Wha-..That.. Wasn't Mrs. Henya. The three faces staring at you were all strikingly beautiful young women around your age. The first one had dark blue eyes and long black hair that went past her shoulders, and judging by redness on her face you guessed she was the one crying. The second one was a bit stranger. She also had black hair but shorter pulled back into a ponytail. But what made her look so strange was the long orange-yellow bangs framing her face and orangish eyes. The third one like the first two also had black hair she wore tied back in a longer ponytail. Only her eyes her a pretty pink color. They stared down at you. You stared up at them. Silence other than the blue eyed ones sniffles filled the space.

....You. Blinked. "...Who are you?!"

"Us?," the orange eyed one scowled now pointing a wet hand out of the strange box accusingly at you. "Who the hell are you?!"

"I asked you first!"

"Well we're not answering until you answer first!"

"I'm a florist!"

The three women blinked at you before staring at one another. "What's a florist?"

"I sell flowers!" You slowly stood up now shaking your hands out annoyed before pushing your hair back. They looked back to you. "How do you not know what a florist is? And what's the big idea soaking me?!"

This was the thanks you get for trying to be a good person?! Last time you ever got nosey. You should've stuck to your first thought and minded your own business!

"Flowers??..Why would a flower seller be here?! Are you lying?! I know she's lying-"

"I was delivering rose bushes!", you shouted at the other scowling woman now annoyed. 

"In the middle of the night? A likely story!"

"I had to make a late delivery because the man who was supposed to deliver them never showed up! And who are you to judge!?"

"Who delivers flowers in the middle of the night?!"

"It literally JUST turned dark! And I'm not the weird one here!" You gestured to the giant..Tank?? Thing?? "I'm not the people deciding to bathe in disgusting water inside a barn! Who the hell does THAT!? That's not normal!"

It was then Ms. Orange Eyes lost her scowl and again all three looked surprised at you. "Wait..so you-" ..Her hand raised looking you up and down. "You're not- ..I mean you're-..You aren't involved in this?"

"Why would I be involved with people who decide to skinnydip in disgusting water?!" You angrily grabbed your dress and wrung it out making water droplets spray to the dirty ground as they again looked at one another.

"Then..what are you doing here?"

"I told you! I'm making a delivery! I heard someone crying and apparently me being a good person means I'm going to be soaked to the bone!" You again scowled at them. "So thanks for that! I was feeling a little dehydrated actually!" You sarcastic spat. Maybe it was a bit mean but you were the one attacked by water here!

Ms. Blue Eyes And Sniffles looked at Ms. Orange Eyes and both looked unsure of what to do. However the third one- "I apologize for that on all of our behalves." She spoke gaining your attention. "We didn't know we'd be having a visitor."

"...Hmph. Clearly. Well since I know no one's dying, I'm gonna leave now and leave you three to.. Whatever it is you're doing."

"WAIT!!" You jumped at the loud wail. Water sloshing off the side of the tank thing. You hadn't even taken half a step away before Ms. Blue Eyes yelled. "YOU CAN'T JUST LEAVE!!"

"Uh..YES. I can actually. I shouldn't even be in here." You paused. ..You didn't know these three. But they weren't from your town. You knew that. "You three shouldn't be here either. If I were you, I'd leave before the Henyas come back."

"That.. would be preferable," Ms. Pink Eyes spoke but shook her head sadly, "Unfortunately that's not an option for us."

You stared at her, then at the other two, then at the tank thing. "...Do you need clothing? I'm sure I can find some towels or something around here."

"No. Not that. We're not able to get out of this tank."

So it was a tank? Again why would they stay in something so filthy? "What do you mean you can't get out? The tanks just a few feet taller than me. It's not that big a fall, even if you sleep and fall it would hardly be fatal...What are you doing in there anyways? It looks like the water hasn't been changed in weeks! It's GROSS!" You stressed with a grimace of disgust.

Ms. Pink Eyes looked a bit hesitant- "Whelp. That settles it then." The one with orange bangs slumped against the side holding her head in a hand. "She literally has no idea about us. I don't know if that's a good or bad thing."

"A GOOD THING OBVIOUSLY!!," Ms. Blue Eyes shrieked. "THAT MEANS SHE'S NOT WITH THOSE OTHER BAD GUYS!!"

You looked at her. "Bad guys?? What are you talking about now?"

"WE-" 

A smack sound went off as the other covered the loud one's mouth. "Don't tell her you loudmouth!! We don't even know if we can even trust her! How do we know that she's not trucking us? Or even worse than they are?!"

"Do we really have a choice?" Both were stopped by Ms. Pink Eyes again and just stopped.. eventually she looked back to you. "We were brought here three.. maybe four weeks ago. Not by choice either. You can say we're being held prisoner."

"Say? We ARE being held prisoner!"

Prisoner?! They were being held hostage!? Good gods what did you even walk into?! "Hostage?!..Wait." You pointed a suspicious look at them. "If you were really being held hostage, how come you haven't tried escaping yet? The door's locked but the window isn't. You three could've just walked on out that way."

Again the three exchanged looks again. Before silent Ms. Pink Eyes grabbed hold of the edge of the tank and pushed herself up and lifting her body from the water. You saw she was wearing a pink top soaked from the water but you fell silent as something else was lifted up from the water as well. Something large, reddish pink in color, and covered in scales. If anyone saw it, they'd just assume it was part of a giant fish. 

However the top wasn't connected to any fish. IT WAS FREAKING CONNECTED TO THE WAIST OF THE WOMAN!!

You looked on in shock and awe at where pale soft skin transitioned into red scales before it disappeared sinking back into the murky water. Again silence resumed and you stared at the three of them in shock and sudden horror.

"Y-Y-You're not human.." You stepped back on instinct and in horror. "You're not human!!" You shouldn't be here! Danger! Creatures! Unsafe! Get away! "I- ..I c-cant stay here! I'm sorry but I need to leave!"

"WAIT!! COME BACK!!"

You panicked nearly slipping on the wet ground to get away. Tangled curtains and nets rushed and pushed away like arms trying to ensnare your body as you ran away from the inhuman creatures behind you. Footfalls echoing throughout the silent barn. Back towards the open window. Your escape route. Your sanctuary outside! You had just made it to the window throwing up a leg onto the windowsill and grabbing the frame-

T H U D-!!

What sounded like a giant sack of potatoes being dropped into the ground hard had echoed throughout the barn followed by the sounds of sloshing and splashing water! Making you jump and snap your head around back to the curta-

"SUMA!!" "YOU CLUMSY CRAB!! ARE YOU OK?!"

"AAAAAHH HAHAHAAAAAA!!!"

Loud sobs and crying filled the air once again as you just stood there... before proceeding to start climbing again-

"I-I-It's no- not FFFFAAAAIIIRRR!! I D-DONT WANT TO BE SO- SOLD TO A CARNIVAL!! W-WHY CAN'T WE JU-JUST G-GO HOOOOMMMEEE!?"  The ugly crying and wails started up once more. "I D-DONT WANT TO LOSE YOU G-GUUUUYYYS!!! WWAAAAHHH!!!"

You stopped... slowly looking back from your place sitting on the window.

"Suma, calm down. W-We're going to be alright-"

"WILL YOU STOP PRETENDING EVERYTHING'S OK!? For once she's right! Nothing about this is ok! We're going to be stuck here for the rest of our lives unless they decide to kill us for some mounted trophy on the wall! Face it! We're never going to get out of here! It's-.... It's hopeless. We're hopeless."

You looked outside. The pony and cart was still there waiting for you to take it home. Safe. Warm home. Where you never had to worry about trapped mermaids which was truly none of your business....F/c eyes slowly looked back to the cries...

"Dam foul fish smelling beasts!"

Old hands held up a lantern shaking with old age. One hand reached out with a rusted key to insert into the lock turning until it clicked. Noisily a lock thudded to the ground as chains rattled from their place to join it on the soft dirt. The lantern lit up the way as the old grizzled woman grabbed the doorknob before looking behind her with narrowed eyes into the darkness. No one was out this time of night. Good. Quietly. The door creaked open allowing the old woman to hobble quietly inside. 

"Alright you stupid fish smelling water bugs! I got your feeding!"

Silence answered her as she hobbled towards the back of the barn. The fish in her hands was dirty and old but she didn't care. They ate worse in the ocean.

"Silent huh? Hmph. It's about time you shut the hell up! The constant shrieking is driving me mad!"

The curtains were pulled back and the lantern shined upon the still tank. Filthy from weeks of neglect. With a toss, she threw the single fish into the top of the tank. It floated up onto the surface before sinking down into the murky water. A weak kick given to the glass.

"Wake up and eat it! Try not to cry about how hungry you are this time or else you'll go the rest of the week hungry!"

Nothing answered not that the grizzled old woman cared leaving. The old fish uselessly sinking to the bottom of the tank completely empty except for dirty water and a single old fish-

SPLASH!!

You stood still completely soaked and hand on a lever as you watched the giant pool like tub in the center of your family's bathhouse start to fill up from the opening allowing water to quickly rush into the tub until it was partially full. You stopped then and went back to slip out the back door. The night was still silent without anyone lurking around in the dark minus a horse and a cart connecting to it's back hidden in the shadows of your house. You carefully looked around, spotted no one, and then sighed. 

"Alright. Coast is clear."

... Slowly three heads popped up from the back of the cart. Thank goodness for the dark cloaking their bodies. The cart was too small to fully hide their tails. You couldn't believe this was happening! You literally kidnapped already kidnapped mermaids! They were dangerous! You were helping nonhuman creatures and....Sigh. It was only temporary. You'd be rid of them soon enough. But for now, you'd help them. Firstly by taking a bath. They were dirty and spelt of old moldy clothes. They seemed on edge looking around as you approached them.

"This isn't the beach," Orange commented annoyed.

You decided to nickname them by the colors of their eyes in your mind for now. "Because the beach is literally a months travel by foot, and two weeks travel by horse. I need time to think of what to do, and I'm certainly not going to be traveling soaking wet in the middle of the night." 

You held out your arms to Blue. She had thankfully stopped crying after Orange hissed at her that they'd be caught again if she didn't shut up. Orange's words not yours. She seemed to get the drill and reached out to wrap her arms around your shoulders as you quietly pulled her long body out of the cart and shifted her in your arms until you were able to carry her still sniffling form into the back door and gently heaved her into the giant tub. This repeated a second time with pink. And again with Orange, although Orange was a little more reluctant than her friends. It was harder dragging them through the window honestly. Your body was REALLY going to be sore in the morning and there was still evidence you had to get rid of. You would NOT allow anyone to know that you harboured these creatures. 

You eventually semi dropped Orange into the large tub with the other two. "There. It's not as deep as the tank but it is wider. That should give you three more room at least."

Blue was already happily pushing her head underwater and blowing bubbles in the completely clean water as Pink smiled at you. "Thank you. You don't know how much we appreciate it."

"Well...If I was in your situation, I'd want some help too. But I'm going to need you three to do something." Pink and Orange blinked as you walked away to a nearby shelf, and proceeded to grab a few bottles and a scrub brush. Returning to the three mermaids and just plopping them on the side of the pool. "Here. It's soap. No offense but you three reek of mold and old dirt. Wash yourselves and I'll replace the water again when you're done." They were in pretty bad shape from the dirty water, especially their hair. You paused looking at them again. "...Also give me your clothes. They're completely filthy. I can let you borrow some of my dresses until I get them clean. You..do know what soap is right?"

"We can handle it from here," Pink confirmed already grabbing a bottle of shampoo and handing it to Orange who curiously opened it up to smell the sweet flower scent. "I'll call you when we're finished but don't you want to dry off?"

"I have a small bathroom in the guestroom. I'll use that and give you three some privacy. Just..let me know when you're finished. And try not to be loud and wake up anyone. I have to go take care of a few things."

Orange looked up at you. "What things?"

"I have to dry the wagon and then go tie the horse back on its post. Otherwise people will know I used it and get suspicious, and I don't feel like having an angry mob after me on top of getting soaked and sore."

[the-fiction-will-knit-the-real]

If any of yall are interested in general hobby drama, figure skating is the only interest I have where being judgemental as hell is required - it's a judged sport, after all. And also strictly gender-normy past the point where my Catholic-raised ass EVER found it comfortable. This is pretty minor drama, too, but I am connecting some dots here, so have a little writeup. As a treat.

The figure skating international regulating body (the ISU) released this upcoming season's point value scales (i.e. the base point values each of the elements in a skating program are worth, such as jumps and spins and step sequences). For the first time ever, they are including point values and rules for quintuple jumps (5 revolutions. Absolutely unnecessary and uncalled for. I still barely support the existence of quads! *old man yells at cloud*)

No one has ever done a quint, to be fair, but given that one particular asshole-ish* 19 year old skater has been landing quad axels routinely and with ease for a while now, and has been saying that he's working on quints (also that gay men are routinely scored higher than straight men, and that's *obviously* why he has trouble winning events... 👀), here goes, I guess

This follows the ISU decision earlier this summer to allow backflips in competition, after a men's world medalist decided last season to do one in his program anyway and just eat the point deduction. They were banned because they are dangerous AF if done even remotely incorrectly (and also - arguably - so they could discriminate against a black female skater in the early 90s who did them fantastically), and now many people are worried that allowing the backflip will cause younger skaters to try to do them in order to get more points, and potentially hurt themselves in the process

the ISU's entire modus operandi for the past decade or more has been "Let's try everything we can to make this incredibly elitist sport popular again! Besides actually punishing people who cheat. Or fixing abuse issues within the culture as a whole. Or supporting skaters who don't want to perform to strict gender normative standards." Currently it seems they're following this approach by specifically setting up rules so.specific current top athletes can break records or otherwise make headlines (headlines = people outside the tiny, tiny fanbase might hear about it and start watching)

So we'll see how this goes. Ultimately I need to stop watching this sport, it's uncomfortable as hell to watch sometimes and, even if certain systemic issues in the sport are slowly getting better, the genderedness of everything really is not

*I do feel a *little* unfair calling Ilia an asshole, I do think he's more just a cocky teenager with some growing up to do, as he's had some very genuine moments and does seem to be improving. But they should really be paying someone to forcibly shut Ilia's mouth sometimes, goddamn

[dustedmagazine]

Richard Dawson — End of the Middle (Weird World)

Photo by Sally Pilkington 

“Good morning, Britain…a soft boiled egg.” In a reedy, confiding tenor that reaches, sometimes, way up into the uncertain regions of his range, Richard Dawson begins “Gondola” with a domestic scenario. The song rifles through the everyday for its imagery, unpaid bills, bus trips, the husks of deceased insects on the sill. Its tragedies are small-scale and ordinary but still crushing. A man forgoes education to work for his dad in a jewelry shop. A son doesn’t call home very often. Minor ailments hurt. And yet by capturing the ache and drama behind the mundane, Dawson reaches a kind of grandeur. These elusive sketches in voice and acoustic guitar strike at something element. The devil, it turns out, really is in the details.

Dawson is, of course, a prolific and wide ranging talent who doesn’t always confine himself to intimate studies. His last album, the Ruby Cord, centered around a 41-minute long track. Before that, he collaborated with the Finnish metal band Circle. Though rooted in a wry and articulate folk tradition, he often colors outside the lines. This zeroing in on the small and the specific is very intentional—Dawson says he was inspired by the domestic dramas of Japanese auteur Yasujirō Ozu — and it works. 

These are intricate stories, sketched out in plain but observant language. “Bullies” tracks a dad still scarred by a youth terrorized by other children who finds that his own son is an abuser. The first part describes the father’s own trauma (“After what happened in PE, I didn’t want to go back/I knew it wasn’t gonna be good, but it turned out so much worse”), in a winding, memory-hazed way that is anything but nostalgic. The second part turns to the son, who goes wrong in an entirely different way (” He’s been scrapping again, broke a lad’s door and now he’s suspended again, pending investigation”). The father’s anguish, both at his own suffering and at the damage his boy causes is palpable, underlined by the unhinged blare and squeak of a clarinet between verses.

It's tempting to describe these compositions as short stories, but the music is good, too, though not in a showy way. It’s almost all acoustic guitar and voice, for one thing, the most minimally intrusive drumming to give it a pulse. And yet the melodies are compelling and often follow lines you’re not expecting, and the guitar playing, while spare, shifts subtly from mood to mood. In “Bolt” its ruminative and full of shimmer. In “Bullies,” it slashes with a tetchy aggression. In “More than Real” a haze of synthesizers haunts the air, suffusing guitar and voice with a golden, indeterminant glow.

Yet it’s the sharp description that elevates these songs, never more so than in the long, trance-like “Knot” which limns a wedding in exacting, excoriating detail. “The best man’s speech is pretty much a bleak, ham-fisted powerpoint on the groom’s former life and depravity and degradation” is a fair sample. And yet there’s a gentleness to this and the other songs. Dawson gets people right in a way that’s not very flattering, but even so, his songs revere the tiny rituals and interactions and experiences that make up ordinary life. It’s a celebration, for all its sarcasm, of the things that make us human.

Jennifer Kelly

[baby-bumi]

🩰🐇 Blog Intro!! 🐇🩰

Name: Bumi :)

Big age: 23

Small age range: 2-8

Favorite colors: pink (while small) and Grey (while big)

Favorite animals: rats, cats, dogs, snakes, lizards, and bunnies

Favorite time period in history/historical subject (to study): 1750s-1940s (I really enjoy the Victorian and Edwardian eras especially) but also the intersection of anthropology and economics and how different types of governments and economies affected different ancient civilizations.

Big likes: architecture, history (I write history papers just for fun), reading (mostly fanfics), anime (favs: Fairy tail, BSD, JJK, AOT, A Sign of Affection, Soul Eater, Frieren, and Spy x Family. I really like Shonen anime :3), drawing, singing, my cats, video games (Overwatch, Skyrim, Minecraft, TS4, Planet Zoo, Phasmophobia, Stray, Mario Kart), Medical Dramas (only if they’re a 7/10 or higher on the accuracy scale), and crime shows (especially Law and Order SVU and NCIS)!

Small likes: naps, my cats, video games (animal crossing, tiny glade, Mario Kart), bunnies, coloring, singing, Bluey!!, Raya and the last dragon, Adventure Time, ATLA (I like that all the time, but especially when small), pacis, soft blankets, Carlton (my fav plushie), Spider-Man, shorts, sippy cups, and pretty lights!!

Big Dislikes: Fireworks, Loud noises, Onions, “boy moms”, talking, people that are mean to customer service workers, inaccurate medical shows, lack of media literacy

Small dislikes: everything on the big dislikes list x10, scratchy sheets, scary movies, sad things, wearing my glasses, wearing my hearing aids (I get very overstimulated very easily while regressed), spicy things, meanies, big dogs that jump, making decisions, air fresheners, candles, being ignored, people touching my hair, pants

I’m autistic, and I have severe ptsd, ocd, and BPD. I use Agere as a coping mechanism, especially when overstimulated/stuck in a flashback loop/hallucinating, and it is NONsexual and NONromantic 100% of the time, and involuntary 60% of the time. For all intents and purposes, I am a child while regressed.

DNI: minors, people who engage in ageplay/petplay as a kink (not to kink shame, I just want this to be an SFW blog), “m@ps” (pls get therapy, genuinely. I understand hurt people hurt people, but you need help.)

Sorry this is so long, and thank you for reading if you did!! Don’t forget to drink water, and I’m so happy you’re here! <3

[pinkroboticunicorn]

BIG FAT DISCLAIMER!! NOT A PROMPT!! A PROLOGUE TO MY FANFICTION!!!

Heroes AU: The Cruise

Prologue: The Powerpuff Girls.

Townsville's heroes, and saviors from ultimate doom, heroes from the evils of villains! Have now grown up from little girls to their teens, and eventually turning 18 years old.

They retired briefly in High School, in order to pursue Academics, Blossom was training up to be either an engineer, or a scientist like the Professor, for years she's been building a thesis on Chemical X, which has a long history, if you asked her about it she would go off on where exactly it came from, why it's so powerful, etc., etc., and has won multiple science fairs in a row, but she could never really beat her true mortal rival and enemy Mandark! His smug grin every time boils her blood, thankfully both Mandark's rivals are friends, mhm, Dexter is friends with Blossom, and together they come up with amazing science experiments, Brick will help on occasion too, he's more of a math and statistics kind of guy, than a science guy, but he's good friends with Blossom, and might have a tiny crush on her, so he's willing to help any time.

Meanwhile...

Bubbles and Boomer were in the arts together, Bubbles is still a really good painter, and even made a full scale mural of the Professor, and them in the living room once, where it still stays to this very day, she mostly does landscaping and flower paintings, and sells them for a lot of money, Boomer however is more of a digital artist, he likes making animations, and has thought of making his own series many times, mostly he makes animation memes, and draws fanart, and sells prints of his work online, and at cons.

Meanwhile...

Buttercup and Butch were the main athletes in High School for a very long time, competing in a lot of Competitions since they were like 10, Buttercup was an absolute BEAST at soccer, scoring multiple times in a row, while Butch competed mainly in a good game of Tennis, and was known only as the King of Tennis at School.

Mojo Jojo had retired from villainy at that time as well, because he could not defeat the Powerpuff Girls at his hands! At the moment! But also because he was just in general very very tired, and just wanted to binge his new favorite show Lake Oak, a good drama, but when they killed off his favorite character for being gay, he returned to a life of villainy.

In that time Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, even Brick, Boomer, and Butch, and yes even Dexter discovered some things about themselves.

Blossom found that she was kind of bi, discovered this when she easily crushed on any nerdy girl or boy or nb person, just falling for them, of course Dexter, and Brick are still friends, despite reaching her level of nerdiness, but yeah.

Brick found himself to be pretty bi himself as well, he even crushed on the same kind of people as Blossom did, intelligent nerdy individuals, and even crushed on Blossom and Dexter for a bit during High School, but they all collectively decided to stay friends, just friends.

Now Dexter discovered that he was an Asexual, but wouldn't mind dating anyone, and got crushes all the time, he's also a bit pan, and is crushing hard on someone currently, but everytime Brick and Blossom asks he kinda clams up a bit about it.

Bubbles discovered that she was aro/ace actually, had no crushes, no interest in doing it with anybody, just wanting to vibe, Boomer feels the same way, and is also aro/ace, although the 2 have had many come to ask them both out, only to have to explain some things, Boomer always gets excited when he finds an aro/ace character, and always has to draw them, pretty much immediately.

Now Buttercup found that she was a big lesbian, loved girls, any athletic girl, and Butch found himself to be very gay for athletic guys, very very VERY gay for athletic guys. The amount of athletic people Buttercup and Butch fawn over together is very high, if you asked them who their crush is, they'd probably short circuit thinking of all the muscly ones they've crushed on.

Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were thrust completely back into crime fighting during their sophomore year, when trouble struck once more, and evil reared its ugly head, with new and old villains coming out of the woodworks to stop them from having a normal High School experience.

But they still manage to save the day! In the end! Nothing can stop them really, they're the Powerpuff Girls! Of course it's that same old story most tell of a High School kid balancing their academic life, social life, and fighting giant monsters, and dastardly villains life.

Why is that a thing? Oh well!

Finally though they reach the age of 18, and get to take a break, a cruise might be nice.

[bisluthq]

honestly, I think Joe is just... not that good at understanding money/class/status/possibilities, like most upper middle class people who do well for themselves.

/////

There was a lot in what you wrote that resonates but this especially! I'm actually super fascinated by how people in various communities see class structure and where they rank. When I was a kid we were on or below the poverty line, run down home, my brother needed surgery and my parents paid by getting a loan on the mortgage or something (and we're Australian so it's already a good deal compared to many other countries, but they needed the money upfront which is a barrier, even if we get whatever portion back later). But in that community I was middle class because we had 2 cars (they were bombs though lol) but some of my friends were living in a 2 bed apartment with 6 people, a small house with 2-3 people in each room and the living room because it was multi generational, and didn't have enough to eat. We were such a poor area that our school got all these community programs to see doctors at school because it was the only way some kids could, and we had a free breakfast program. There were other kids who had a house and a holiday house, took holidays, and their mums wore a lot of nice jewellery. But THERE, even on the poverty line I was middle class. Compared to the national average, we were very much lower class. Idk i feel like context of our environments will always influence us, but people really need to look at national averages at least to realise there's like half a country wondering if they'll pay for electricity or food, kids are still leaving school early to work and help support their parents - like if you donate to charities that help disadvantaged kids or homelessness for example- how can you not think a little bit more and wonder why there are so many charities for kids and homeless? Because HEAPS exist! You just don't see it, or the scale at least, in a wealthy area. Like that just seems a logical thing to wonder to me? Lol

THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I AM SAYING!!! Like maybe people should THINK a bit more. And I really find upper middle class people - especially generational ones where it's several generations of being upper middle class - are completely incapable of thinking deeply about class? Like COMPLETELY incapable? FG actually seemed like he got it to me tbh for a long time. I liked the fact that he acknowledged his family was rich as all fuck and that he'd had a ton of opportunities other people hadn't had (moving all over the world, doing not for credit study opportunities a lifetime ago in college, them buying his first car for him which was a very nice car because he likes cars and they have money, them helping with his first ever house etc). I liked that he seemed very cognisant of all that. HOWEVER. This story with my mother. 1.5K is NOT a huge amount of money, but it's also... not a tiny amount? And my mother genuinely does not have that lying around, like she's not destitute at all but she does NOT have an extra 1.5 in checking just ready to go. She lives on a pretty calculated budget and idk that she saves much but once more this is between her and her gods and her commitment to super questionable life choices and a weird worldview, but as I understand it, it's (comfortable) pay check to (comfortable) pay check for her.

Because she's ex-Soviet and she has a shitton of dependents (more questionable choices there on her part to get us to where we are but we move) so that's... not money she just has in her back pocket? IT JUST IS NOT. She's told him when we sell that one house, she'll pay him. Obviously jury's out on if she would've in an AU where this didn't all blow up and he and I were just living together still with no drama, because I rate she wouldn't have seeing as how in my mother's worldview she owes fuck all beyond birthday gifts and an invitation to her weird Christmas thing she does (lady's Jewish but she LOVES Christmas) to her son-in-law. Now, even if I go back at this point, though, she will because... she's a very principled person, in her own twisted logic way, and she's now pissed off as all hell about all of this, but like she still doesn't have 1.5K lying around. IT BLOWS MY MIND that he does not understand this, and that his response is like, "but her house is nice and her car is nice" which they basically are, he's not wrong, but that doesn't mean there's an extra 1.5K there to pay HIM?

RICH PEOPLE DO NOT UNDERSTAND MONEY AND THEY DO NOT UNDERSTAND CLASS.

I'm glad your family stuff worked out okay and I'm sorry it sucked and I'm glad it did not suck more xxxxxx sorry to make this about me, your story is just accurate and relatable and made me think of my thing.

[ncisfranchise-source]

The idea seemed “simple” enough. An episode of NCIS: Sydney in which DeShawn and Evie (played by Sean Sagar and Tuuli Narkle) go undercover at a pirate-themed wedding aboard the James Craig — an 19th-century sailing ship-turned-tour boat — to draw out a killer.

Showrunner and Sydney native Morgan O’Neill wanted to kick things up a notch, however.

“I phoned our friends at CBS and said, ‘Look, I don’t want to scare you, but we’re going to do an episode on a tour ship on Sydney Harbour,’ and they went, ‘OK. So, obviously, in a studio, using green screen…?’ And I said, ‘No, no, no, we’re actually going to get a tour ship. And we’re going to do it all on the harbor for real,'” O’Neill shared with TVLine.

How did CBS brass react? “They laughed,” O’Neill recalled. “And then they said, ‘Wow, that sounds amazing. Do you think you can pull it off?’ I said, ‘I do, and I’d love the opportunity to prove that,’ and they were enormously supportive. But also a little nervous, I suspect.”

What drove O’Neill to give viewers the real deal is the fact that Sydney Harbour is not only the largest working harbor in the world, but — “and I say this as a Sydney-sider — one of the most beautiful places on the planet. And I can’t think of any better way to show it off than to get on a 19th-century square-rigger and spend a week at sea, because everywhere you point the camera, you’re looking at amazing stuff.”

Beyond serving up a very pretty picture, “underneath it all, there is this incredible jeopardy that’s mounting throughout the episode,” as a hostage situation develops about the tour boat, O’Neill said. (Think Speed 2 meets Die Hard.) “When I talk about the ambition of Season 2, Episode 2 is a really good example of that ambition. And there are all sorts of reasons why.

For one, “It’s insane to shoot an episode like that on board a real ship, in a real harbor, with the weather, with the wind, all of that,” O’Neill noted. Add in a speedboat chase and one character impulsively and heroically diving off the ship into the drink below, “and there’s a crazy level of mayhem that you invite into your world by doing those things for real. But what you get from it is so much more. The episode is as real as it gets, and you really feel the scale of things and all the dynamism.”

As the NCIS: Sydney episode unfolds, the drama aboard the James Craig draws the attention of a U.S. naval destroyer that is parked in the harbor and is inclined to intervene. That, as conceived by O’Neill and observed by one of the characters, presents a real-world parallel.

“The American military is vast, and Australia’s is tiny, so there’s a power dynamic involved,” he explained. “There are people in Australia who look at that relationship as out of kilter with what we would prefer, so this was a way to sort of tap into the relationship between our two countries. But it’s also a really great example of the sort of ambition you can expect from Season 2.”

[mylittlemenandme]

THUNDERSTRUCK

From its first iteration at the time I got into the hobby many moons ago, through to the deadly looking version of the present day, I've been drawn to one Warhammer 40,000 vehicle more than any other. A versatile, rugged combat aircraft not only equipped with extremely heavy weaponry, but also capable of delivering a whole detachment of Space Marines into the heart of the enemy lines - the Thunderhawk Gunship captured my imagination like nothing else in the 40k universe. But how did we get here, and where am I going with this? Let's start at the beginning. (Although this great article on the Warhammer Community site covers the history of the model better than I ever will.)

The very first White Dwarf I owned featured a battle report for Epic, the game I was playing regularly at the time as a kid with my brother, and included a plucky little Blood Angels Thunderhawk that could. My brother soon ended up with his own tiny flying castle for his Space Wolves (this self same one pops up again later on).

It was only a few issues of White Dwarf later, however, that my love for this gravity-defying box was sealed.

Another Epic battle report, this time an Imperial Guard army fighting against Eldar. Included in this Imperial force - amongst the artillery, super-heavy tanks, titan, and lines of infantry - was an entire company of Space Marine Scouts and their transports, three Thunderhawk Gunships. The plan was for them to start off the board and drop in behind enemy lines and cause chaos. And boy, did they.

Other than perhaps in Space Crusade, I wasn't really playing as Space Marines at the time. I played as Orks against my brother in Epic, and 2nd edition 40k (and my own Space Wolves army) was still a few months out, but this battle report really cemented how I thought about how they operated. A rapid-deployment strike force, dropping in and seizing crucial objectives from under the noses of their enemies.

During that era though, there was little chance of a Thunderhawk making an appearance outside of Epic, especially when a Land Raider was pretty much the biggest vehicle available at the time. There were, of course, exceptions...

When I got back into the hobby a few years ago, the current resin Forge World Thunderhawk Gunship was still fairly new. I remember going to our very first community meetup at Warhammer World in 2018 and seeing it both soaring over various dioramas in the exhibition hall and, most tantalisingly, the built kit in the display cases in the Forge World shop. It looked incredible. I wanted one so badly, and there was no way I could afford one. It had become my holy grail model, and a pipe dream.

Then, in April 2021, a built and primed 40k scale Thunderhawk Gunship popped up on eBay, for roughly the price of one brand new. It was ideal - the thought of prepping the resin, building it and priming it seemed like a nightmare to me - it looked like such a good deal, not that I could afford it. Thankfully someone else thought it was a good deal, and I was spared.

Not long after that, the plastic Thunderhawk for Aeronautica Imperialis was (superbly) teased, to be released a few months later. I played a demo game of AI at Warhammer World and was smitten, so I snapped up a copy of the game and a Thunderhawk of my very own. Turned out it was a little bit bigger than the original.

I was still very much having Thunderhawk Thoughts though. The first Crusade game of 40k I ever played I themed my army around deploying from a Thunderhawk. With them being Sons of Morkai, I also had a name for that Thunderhawk as well from the very handy insert from the Deathwolf audio drama.

And so we move on to February of this year. Someone in our community discord mentions buying a built Storm Eagle off eBay so, thinking of the one from a few years back, I idly do a search for Thunderhawk Gunships.

And there it is. The same one from 2021, still just primed, back up for sale. Dusty, and with a little bit of damage from where the previous seller shipped it to the current one. Put up for sale that very day. There couldn't be a better chance to finally own one.

So I bought it.

A few days later a lovely man arrives in a van and hands me a big box with not just a chunky resin plane in it, but a custom wood and acrylic flight stand as well. I've no idea when I'm going to paint it, or even how I'm going to store it, never mind transporting it so I can play with it.

Yes, it could be in better condition. Yes, the canopy could have been kept as clear plastic. But the upper wings go up and down, the heavy bolters move, the front hatch opens and shuts. It is solid. I definitely wouldn't have done a better job putting it together myself. My holy grail model. I'm absolutely made up.

[dsandrvk]

Sunday, August 13 - Prince Christian Sound (Prins Christian Sund)

Once again, yesterday was a sea day, with not a lot to show for it, although our team actually won trivia (there are about 10 teams, so we felt pretty good about it). We had continued on in a sea fog, which seems to be pretty common in the North Atlantic, and we have gotten used to the regular bleating of the fog horn (pretty subdued in our cabin).

Today, however, was entirely different. We woke up early to see our first view of Greenland and it was fairly clear outside, but were still out quite far off shore and not close enough to see anything. We were to go through Prins Christian Sund, which can either be the highlight of the cruise or a big disappointment. Our captain had slowed down our approach and was timing it to start later through the Sund, which is actually a fjord that links up to other fjords, creating a passage separating a little bit of Greenland (the Cape Farewell archipelago) from the mainland. We had a Zodiac trip scheduled, and they had moved the departure time a bit later, since we weren't rushing the approach.

Just as we got close enough to see Greenland, the sea fog rolled in and visibility dropped to near zero, but miraculously just as we entered the Sund at about 11AM, the fog lifted, and we had spectacular blue skies. We motored very slowly for about an hour and then stopped in front of a side fjord that terminated in a glacier that we got to explore by Zodiac. The air was cool (mid-40's) but the sun made it comfortable. We had waited until last to board a Zodiac, since that Zodiac was smaller and took less passengers, and on our way in to the glacier, the engine cut out a few times, but then restarted and we continued on.

There was some minor calving on the glacier, which was loud but inconsequential. We got to get quite close, and were able to spot a bearded seal on a floe, but in the pictures he (or she) is just a dark blob. The view was better through binoculars! We saw another one swimming in the water on our way back to the ship, and at that moment, our engine cut out again. Our guide tried all sorts of things, but eventually we had to be towed back to the ship. We really didn't mind, since it was lovely out there, and we got to see the seal a couple of more times in between its dives.

We finally moved on from this spot around 3 in the afternoon, and headed west. The Sund is about 66 miles long, and narrows to around 1500 feet, and is only navigable in the summer because of the ice. Not too many years ago, the glacier that we explored extended down into the fjord proper and out to sea the way we came. The glaciers we saw the rest of the day (and they were numerous) are the edges of the Greenland ice sheet, which covers 80% of the island and is second only to Antarctica in size.

While the eastern part of the fjord shows mainly rock rounded and polished by the ice sheet and glaciers, the western part has many, many jagged and rugged rocks that reflect the volcanic nature of this area. These are some of the oldest rocks visible on earth, and it is hard to comprehend the scale as we went past.

After a mostly straight shot of about 35-40 miles, we made several 90 degree turns, zigging, then zagging and zigging again and past the only signs of human habitation - the approximately 100 person village of Appilattoq, which is nestled beneath towering peaks on a little flat land with a small natural harbor. The eighth picture shows the peak behind - if you zoom in you can see tiny little houses near the water. The last photo also shows a small ship at the bottom of the peak - another example of the overwhelming scale of the place. By late afternoon we had mostly cloudy skies, but it only added to the drama of the place.

The captain slowed the vessel to a crawl after we had made the turn by the village, and despite the cold, we chose to sit at the patio restaurant for dinner and the duration of our voyage through the fjord. He had timed it so folks were finished with dinner and it was getting dark before we exited into the open sea again (and dense fog). It has truly been one of the most spectacular days we have had at sea, and we spent the entire day on the decks just soaking in the scenery (and taking lots of pictures).

We only have to go about 80 nautical miles to our port tomorrow, Nanortalik, which is why we were able to dawdle through the Sund. The forecast for tomorrow is cloudy and around 48 degrees, but no rain, so we are looking forward to bundling up and exploring.

[the-sage-libriomancer]

the thing that makes me so interested in a crossover between these three specifically is how Sing, Zootopia, and Beastars are all set in a world of anthropomorphic animals, but they can't be the same world because small differences make them fundamentally incompatible. obviously Beastars takes place in a world where cannibalism is a Thing and the politics are completely different, but Sing also has species types (namely reptiles and primates) that Zootopia doesn't, and Zootopia's world has reached a level of peace and prosperity that Beastars definitely hasn't.

off the top of my head, some of the most meaningful differences are:

-in Zootopia, the city is built to accommodate all types of animals with various heights, weights, shapes and sizes. in Sing, the city is built with a "one size fits all" mindset and forces non-standard animals like Mike (a mouse) and Moon (a koala) to compensate. In stark contrast, the school in Beastars forms its architecture around species segregation, and the "one size fits all" approach is only used in public spaces with lots of traffic.

-speaking of sizes, Zootopia has animals that are accurately sized and proportioned to real life, while Sing and Beastars have relatively scaled down versions (e.g Meena the elephant only reaching the height of a tall human). Beastars in particular seems to be base heights entirely based on vibes--dogs seem to be human height, snakes can be tiny or huge, and even small animals are frequently sized up to the height of a smallish child.

-Sing and Beastars also have far more humanoid characters in comparison to Zootopia.

-species that exist are super varied. in Zootopia, it's strictly regulated to mammalian herbivores and carnivores with occasional omnivores like raccoons and otters. in Beastars, there are mostly mammals but domestic animals like dogs and chickens are included. in Sing, pretty much anything goes - gorillas, koalas, chickens, dogs, sheep, snails, and what have you.

-the predator/prey relations. Zootopia has tense societal drama between predator and prey but individuals can coexist just fine - the fear is always there, but generally the violence of the wild is comfortably behind them. Beastars features a much sharper divide between predator and prey species due to the very real presence of cannibalism, and the fragile peace between carnivores and herbivores always feels ready to snap. meanwhile, Sing doesn't have any species-related conflicts whatsoever and there's no word on whether they ever existed.

so if you hypothetically wrote something where the characters of one of these stories fell into the world of another, it would make really interesting dynamics - and those dynamics would change based on which world is the main setting. sending Nick and Judy into the Beastars world would force them to confront even worse prejudice (and prompt some meta, considering the original concepts present in Zootopia's plot), but sending them into the Sing world would give them whiplash because there aren't any species-based prejudices AT ALL. meanwhile, sending Haru and Legoshi into the Zootopia world wouldn't be a big deal because wolves and rabbits exist there, while sending Johnny and Ash into the Zootopia world would cause tons of problems because Zootopia's world has never seen gorillas or porcupines.

i can think of so many scenarios for this. imagine Nick and Louis, two characters who have defined themselves by societal expectations of their species, falling into Sing's world and being gobsmacked that the bigoted worldviews and ugly stereotypes they've struggled with all their lives simply don't exist. imagine Judy falling into the Beastars world and, while trying to get home, valiantly tries to smooth over the predator/prey conflicts she comes across, only to slowly figure out just how violent and depraved the world is compared to hers. imagine Meena falling into the Beastars world and seeming like a giant, or falling into the Zootopia world and looking way too tiny compared to the other elephants. i spent way too long thinking about this but you get it right

having been lying in bed sick all day, i've had many strange things on my mind over the course of the past 12 hours and yet the only topic that interests me now is the ramifications of writing a crossover between Beastars, Zootopia, and Sing.

[soulmate-game]

Well, here is the stupid thing I was alluding to. It’s mostly a filler chapter, but yeah.

Harley’s Plea for Help, Chapter 3

“Well, that took a while,” a relatively deep female voice smoothly drawled. The plants placed right next to the window pulled away, no longer blocking the pathway inside. The two figures who were perched right outside the windowsill took the invitation and climbed inside, the shorter of the two looking at the woman who had spoken and smiling widely.

“Auntie Ivy!” Marinette happily exclaimed, making the redhead across from her grin back.

“That’s me. It sure is nice to actually see you in person, little Marigold,” she held out her arms for a hug, which Marinette instantly ran in to accept. “Video calls are never quite enough, are they? You’re so tiny! Are you sure you eat alright?”

“Auntie Ivyyyyyy,” Marinette whined, knowing full well that Ivy was just teasing her.

“So, what took you all so long?” Ivy asked Red Hood, even as she kept her arms wrapped around her soon-to-be daughter in law. “Usually you bats are all about getting back on the streets to punch people, we didn’t think you’d be bringing her in at almost one in the morning.”

Hood shrugged, thumbs hooked in his pockets. “Your little garden fairy nearly gave us the slip. Went straight out the back exit instead of doin’ anything showy like we half expected and we almost missed her.”

“I stopped as soon as I noticed who they were, I swear!” Marinette pulled away from Ivy, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “I didn’t expect Momma to send them to babysit me before our first full day being in Gotham. In hindsight, though, I really should have.”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” Ivy agreed with a smirk, ruffling Marinette’s hair and making her pigtails go a little crooked. “And I know for a fact that you’ve done some stunts off your balcony back in Paris, so at least I know you can be responsible and hold yourself back from doing the same here. Must get that from me, because we both know it doesn’t come from Harley.”

Marinette and Hood both had to laugh at that. Being responsible was definitely not a trait that Marinette could have inherited from anybody in her family tree, that was for sure.

“Are ya makin’ fun of me in front of my daughter?” the comically scandalized voice announced the arrival of one Harley Quinn, who walked into the room in white onesie pajamas with a poker print on them. All of the “joker” cards were crossed out heavily with red sharpie, and a few of them had black-sharpie devil horns and handlebar mustaches vandalizing them. Marinette even caught one such card with a googly eye on it, the matching eye having fallen off and leaving only a small circle of since-dried hot glue where it used to be. “If you guys are gonna be that way, fine! Ivy dyes her hair!”

“No she doesn’t,” Marinette deadpanned, clearly fighting against a giant grin. The corners of her lips gave her away, they never stopped twitching with repressed mirth. “But you do. I got the pictures to prove—- aah!” Harley tackled her daughter to the ground, attacking her with tickles immediately.

“Take it back! My hair is naturally blond!”

“Yeah, naturally— hahahahaha! Sandy blonde! You— hahaha! Have just as much brown— stop I can’t breathe! hahahaha!— as yellow!”

“Hmph,” Harley finally backed off, crossing her eyes and looking away from Marinette with an exaggerated pout. “How dare you reveal my darkest secret?”

“I was a natural redhead even before I got my powers,” was all Ivy had to say, looking all too amused at this turn of events. “Your original costume completely covered your hair.”

“Don’t worry, Harley,” Red Hood butted in, reminding the three girls that he was still here. His tone suggested that he was definitely smiling under his helmet. “We found out about your hair dye years ago.”

“I just cover up the brown parts! It’s not like I’m changin’ much,” she argued before standing up again. “Thanks for gettin’ my cupcake back safely, little birdie. Oh, that's right! I made cupcakes! Hang on, lemme grab one for your trip back!” with that, she span on her heels and ran back further into the apartment. Marinette dashed over to Hood, immediately shoving him to the window.

“Quick, save yourself! Momma can’t bake for her life!” she whispered urgently. “I’ll say you were called away for an emergency, just hurry!”

“It’s not even a lie, getting away from Harley’s baking is an emergency,” Ivy agreed, waving as the vigilante took their advice and fled. It was only three seconds later that Harley slid back into the room, nearly falling due to the feet of her onesie having pretty much zero friction. Her face immediately fell when she saw that her victim was gone, leaving her standing there with a cupcake that was about twice as much frosting as actual cake, covered in sprinkles like a kid’s craft project that was smothered in glitter. The frosting was also shapeless, just heaped on the cake like a half-melted scoop of ice cream. She sighed in despair.

“There goes my chance of giving a bat diabetes. You guys warned him, didn’t ya?”

They both nodded shamelessly. “We’re not that cruel, Harley,” Ivy defended, getting up from her spot on her cushioned armchair and wrapping an arm around her fiance’s waist before she kissed the top of her head gently. “Hood got our little Marigold back safe and sound, and he’s even started a garden at his apartment. He doesn’t deserve to be poisoned by you.”

“I thought you said he got a single cactus at the flea market last month,” Harley deadpanned, making Ivy shrug.

“Might as well be a garden for him, and it’s something he’s not likely to kill so that’s a plus to me. He’s actually taking really good care of the little baby.”

“Speaking of garden!” Marinette gently took the sad excuse of a pastry away from her mom and sat it down on a side table before ushering both of them over to the living room and onto the sofa. “My garden back home is growing so big, I don’t think I can keep everything much longer. I barely have room to walk on the terrace, with all the vines and leaves and branches. Got any ideas of what I can do?”

“Of course! Do you have pictures, Marigold?”

—*—*—*—*—*

Slipping back through her hotel window at six in the morning was risky, since it involved climbing the wall and hoping nobody saw, but her classmates were so unpredictable that it was the only way she could be sure nobody would find out that she had violated curfew and snuck out. Of course, having Red Robin waiting outside her mom’s apartment’s terrace to escort her back helped. At least she knew that no street cams would record her comings or goings, and his grappling hook made the whole scale-the-hotel-wall business much more efficient.

Once she was inside, she sighed happily. “Thanks, now—“ her apology was cut off as Red Robin held up a finger to tell her to wait.

“Hold that thought, be right back. Don’t move.”

Thinking, rightfully, that something was wrong, Marinette obeyed. She watched Red Robin leap off of her hotel balcony and disappear into the streets. Immediately, she began a search to make sure her room had been left untampered— everything important had been packed in the backpack that she had taken to her mom’s place, but still. Could never be too careful. By the time she finished checking for bugs or any signs of snooping, Red Robin landed back on her balcony.

“Here we go.”

Turning to face him, Marinette opened her mouth to ask what the problem had been— only to tear up a little and walk over to the vigilante.

“Oh, my hero. Truly, my one and only savior. Knight in shining red Kevlar. I’m running on two hours of sleep and you have read my mind!” The pigtailed drama queen eagerly took the coffee that he offered her, and he sipped from a larger cup that looked like he had grabbed it from the same place. Marinette almost instantly sighed in gratitude when the hot drink lightly scalded her tongue. This. This was the elixir of life.

To his credit, Red Robin was able to restrain himself to merely an amused smirk. Probably because he was running on just as little sleep as she was. “Sorry it’s only a small, I figured it was best to have something you could finish quickly and easily hide the evidence for. If you need more caffeine, I happen to know that Wayne Enterprises has a very good coffee shop in their main hall. You’ll be touring there today, right?” He asked, taking another sip as he waited for the answer that he already knew.

Marinette nodded absently, drinking in the euphoria of her coffee as she tried to both savor it yet finish it as quickly as safely possible. When she came up for air, she said; “Yeah, that’s right. We’re touring Wayne Enterprises for most of the day, having lunch there, and leaving for dinner after the tour. Then we have a visit to the Gotham Museum of Fine Art, and we’ll stay there until about eight-thirty before heading back to the hotel.”

Red Robin nodded, then turned and looked out the window at the slowly rising sun. Sunrise was always a bit later in Gotham, partly because of the abundance of high-rises and partly because of the thick cloud cover and ever-present fog on the edges of the city making everything seem darker than it should have been. He had to be at work soon himself, which is why he had been chosen to escort her to the hotel in the first place, but that meant that he had to be heading off.

“Alright. We arranged for a bodyguard we trust to keep an eye on your class during the WE tour, but he doesn't know who you are or that we’re the ones who asked. We’re still in the process of arranging someone to shadow you after the tour, but we’ll tell you about that once it’s solidified. Until then, follow the usual self-defense procedures if you suspect anyone of following you. You have the panic button we gave you?”

Marinette nodded, gulping down the last of her coffee and carefully putting it in her room’s tiny trash can. “Got it. Thanks, again. Seriously,” she met his eyes— or, probably did since they were hidden behind that weird white film that the whole Batfam had covering the eyeholes of their masks. “I mean it. For listening to me, for listening to Mom. It means a lot. I’ll keep the panic button on me, and I’ll use it if I think I can’t handle a situation on my own. I’ll cooperate with the people you get to watch over the class, and I’ll do my best to not get into any trouble. No promises, but I’ll do my best,” she maintained eye contact until Red Robin nodded, hiding his expression behind his coffee cup. After a second, he cleared his throat.

“Well then. We’ll contact you once we have anything to say about your intel. Until then, I gotta go. And by the way?”

Marinette tilted her head curiously as Red Robin paused for just a moment on her balcony railing, aiming a smirk back at her. “Yeah?”

“Welcome to Gotham.”

And if she couldn’t help but smile widely as he grappled off into the fog-veiled sunrise? Well, only she had to know. She wasted no time closing and locking the glass balcony door, and pulling the curtains over it completely. Once that was done, she couldn’t help but do a little shimmy of Joy. She was caffeinated, she met Auntie Ivy in person for the first time, she got to sleep next to her momma— and she was in Gotham! Technically her hometown— or town she was conceived in? Didn’t matter. Point was, even with the chaos and dark energy clouding the very air, she couldn’t help but feel like she belonged in that city. Like that was where she was always meant to end up, where she could thrive and the environment that she was made to thrive in. The environment that she was born to start fixing.

She beamed at herself in her bathroom mirror as she gave herself one more once-over. Yeah, so far her visit to Gotham was going much better than she could have hoped. Now, she just had to make sure it stayed that way.

Three businesslike raps sounded against the door to her room, just in time for Marinette to feed Tikki one more cookie and straighten her purse on her shoulder. Madame Mendelieve’s voice called out from the other side of the door in her usual no-nonsense bark;

“Dupain-Cheng! Room check! It’s time to get up, we’re meeting down in the lobby in ten minutes.”

Marinette ran up to the door, not quite able to contain her energy, and swung it open with her trademark large, beaming smile.

“Way ahead of you, Madame Mendelieve!”

Her science teacher blinked, adjusting her glasses on her nose as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

“Ah. You’re already awake and ready?”

Marinette giggled and nodded. “Yup! I was so excited for the tour that I could barely sleep! Does the hotel breakfast include free coffee?”

—*—*—*—*—*

The hotel breakfast did, in fact, include coffee. What it did not include, however, was free coffee that Marinette could reasonably stomach. Especially after the heaven in a cup that Red Robin had gotten for her earlier, the watered down motor oil in the hotel lobby had been unbearable. She had barely managed two sips before regretfully throwing the rest away. Which is what brought her to stand in line at the very same coffee shop that Red Robin had mentioned was in the main hall of Wayne Enterprises, as the rest of her class mingled and waited for their teachers to check their tour group in and their tour guide to arrive.

“Hmm. Sorry, this is my first time ordering here,” she apologized when she reached the counter, gaining a slight lopsided grin from the barista at the register. “Um, I usually like strong coffee, with a lot of caffeine, but I also like something sweet. I don’t need anything too complicated though, do you have any recommendations?”

The barista gave her a customer service smile that seemed just a tad softer at the edges than usual. “Sure! So, we can add an extra shot or two of espresso to any of our drinks, to make it stronger and give it an extra kick. If you’re looking for good sweet flavors, the classics are our white chocolate or caramel. But we also have a seasonal syrup right now that I personally love, which is our cinnamon butterscotch. Did you wanna try that?”

Marinette smiled widely. “That sounds delicious! Then, if I could have your largest size café latte, hot, with… two extra shots and that syrup? Does that sound good?”

The barista actually let loose a soft laugh, already keying in the order. “If you’re a coffee lover and a sweet tooth at the same time, then you’ll love it. If not, come back during your tour’s lunch break and I’ll make you something else.”

Marinette made a little more small talk as she handed over the proper cash for the order, and grabbed her drink after just another minute’s wait. She turned around, taking a sip of the unsurprisingly heavenly coffee and started off to join her class.

Only to realize none of them were where she had left them. She sighed, starting to reach into her purse to see if anyone had texted her about where they were going, but a heavy presence stopped her. She could feel him approaching from in front of her, slightly to her right, but she couldn’t hear him at all. On guard, she straightened up and turned to observe the potential threat.

A security guard. Marinette blinked, running over what she had been told earlier that morning. Was he..?

He seemed to notice her instinctually defensive posture because he raised his hands to show he meant no harm. “Sorry, didn’t mean to catch you off guard,” he apologized. “I’m the guard that was assigned to your tour group. I offered to stay behind until you got your coffee while the rest of your group went ahead and got the run-down on all the boring rules and whatnot of the tour. Figured you’d already know everything they had to say anyway, you’re the class president right?”

Marinette relaxed her posture, nodding and sending the man a relieved smile. “Yeah, that’s right. Well, that explains why they left without me then. Usually Madame Mendelieve is strict about following rules though, how’d you convince her to go on without me?”

The man chuckled, jerking his head to show that she should follow him as he began to lead the way to a side door. Marinette kept her guard up just in case, but wasn’t too worried. If nothing else, she was still in the middle of a super crowded building and the other security guards around didn’t seem concerned. She could easily yell for help if she needed to.

“Well, can’t you tell it was my devilish charm?” He teased, grinning. He waited until she rolled her eyes to continue; “but really, I’m like a second tour guide. She made me show a lotta proof that I’m actually assigned to you guys and not just faking it, not that I can blame her. Eventually she saw the logic in my suggestion and agreed. See, there they are,” he pointed casually ahead of them in the large side hallway they had entered. Sure enough, near the end of the hallway was her class at what looked to be the tail-end of a standard rules-and-guidelines speech from the tour guide. “By the way,” the guard spoke up again, holding his hand out. “My name’s Jason. You’ll be seeing me more often, since I’m supposed to guard you guys for all of your visits to the Tower. Call me if you need help with anything, ‘kay kid?”

Marinette grinned, now positive that this guy really was the guard that Red Robin had said was assigned to her class. She switched the hand she was holding her coffee in so that she could properly grab Jason’s hand for a shake.

“Got it, Monsieur Jason. Let’s both hope I don’t end up needing your help though, I think that would be easier on both of us,” she joked, earning a chuckle from the large man. And— yeah, now that she was relaxed, he really was big, wasn’t he? Then again, Marinette didn’t always realize when people were a bit larger or more buff than they should be. Living with her dad had seriously skewed her perception of the normal size of an adult male (which, she learned when she was seven, most definitely was not almost seven feet tall and muscled enough to make a pro wrestler jealous). But she would like to think she had gotten better in that aspect, and Jason was definitely a big guy. A little over six feet tall, she thought, and though the guard outfit hid a good portion of his physique, she could tell he carried enough muscle to do serious damage if he wanted to.

With a wave, she left him to join her class and sipped at her latte. She had figured that the Bat Clan’s criteria for civilians that they would put to guard her class had to be high, but now she had to wonder just how high. Most police officers or security guards were fit, sure, but not like Jason. Casting a quick glance back at him, she confirmed that he had quite a few faded but visible scars. Again, more than your average officer even for Gotham. Who had they tasked with her class’ safety, exactly?

An elbow in her side distracted her from her thoughts, forcing her to blink and stop her cup from going back to her lips. The grin of none other than Adrien Agreste greeted her when she snapped out of her own head long enough to pay attention to her surroundings. He jerked his head to indicate that the class was already starting to move off.

“Come on, Mari or you’ll get left behind again,” he teased. She grinned back at him, rolling her eyes but falling into step beside him as they followed at the back of their class. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were gonna marry that coffee. You haven’t zoned out that badly in years,” his tone was light and cheery, but Marinette didn’t miss the concern in his emerald eyes. She sighed, gently bumping her shoulders against his in silent reassurance.

“I’m fine. Just didn’t get much sleep last night, that’s all. But this really is good coffee. Elixir of the gods,” then, just to provoke him, she took a giant gulp of the still steaming hot drink. Adrien grimaced in pained sympathy even though Marinette didn’t seem affected at all.

“Oww, Marineeeeeeeeeette,” he whined. “Don’t do that, my throat hurts just watching you guzzle hot coffee like that,” he complained, rubbing at his neck to make his point clear.

“Wimp,” she teased, unrepentant. Adrien just groaned dramatically.

“I’m not a wimp, you’re just concerningly used to burning your throat from the inside out,” he accused. “Anyway, how’d it go?” He was being deliberately vague, but it was obvious to her what he meant. He was only one she had told about visiting her mom, after all, just in case she needed a quick getaway.

In fact, he was the only one of her friends that she had even told about her biological parents. Alix knew too, but only because of time shenanigans. Marinette was fine with it now, but still.

“It went great,” she smiled widely at him, keeping her voice low but casual. “If I have a chance, I’ll introduce you sometime during the trip. I have a feeling you’ll love Auntie Selina, but I have to meet her first. All I have so far are stories.”

“Fair enough,” Adrien agreed easily. “But you don’t have to, you know that right? I’d love to meet your family, but I’m also fine just being your pseudo-brother like I have been up until now. I know it might be a bit… uncomfortable, for you.”

“Nah,” Marinette shrugged. “Nerve wracking, maybe. But that’s also about half the things that I do in my life period, anxiety is no joke. I’ll catastrophize for a while, but I know you’ll love them and they’ll love you.”

“Sounds like they have paw-some taste,” he didn’t even miss a beat with his puns, earning a playful glare for his efforts.

“Never mind. You’re a heathen. Disowned. Who are you?”

“Mariiiiii,” he whined, causing them both to laugh for a while before focusing on the tour.

So far, so good, Marinette thought.

—*—*—*—*—*

Part 1 Part 2

@emotionalsupportginger @alysrose-starchild @emistar0 @kibastray @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @alyssadeliv @blackroserelina @blackstarlight-co @readingalldaysleepingallnight @maanae @aespades @jaybird-and-co @fleursroses @probably-a-hologram @misterpianoman @deathssilentapproach-blog @user00000003 @frieddonutsweets @blur-of-colours @prettylittlebutterflie @ladyqnoirr @a-star-with-a-human-name @mizzy-pop @laurcad123 @dorkus-minimus @chocolatecatstheron @tazanna-blythe @golden-promises @literaryhiraeth @asrainterstellar @hewantedbeefintheparkinglot @miraculous-trinity-leo @missanalysis @lovelyautumnsunflower @lolieg @ann0631 @whitetiger1249 @meow-now @toodaloo-kangaroo

[cryptiql]

boyhood

pairing: katsuki bakugou/reader (male reader in mind, but can be read as gender neutral)

words: 2.1k

warnings: tw hospital mention, but i think that's it

a/n: this is god awful and i hate it with every fiber of my being but here's to hoping y'all like it anyways </33 ig this could count as a fic ?? but not really lmao it's just some brain rot inspired by the map of tiny perfect things for which there will be some spoilers, so read with caution

"so, there's this boy—"

it starts simple enough; the utterings of a line pulled straight from a cliché teen drama spilling from your lips. you wish it wasn't so, but then, you also wish that cute blonde hadn't saved you from falling in the pool, for it might have prevented the hassle of falling for him, instead. it's foolish, you begin to think, because you've done this a thousand times—you've evaded every beach ball hurdled at your unsuspecting head; every puddle that has sent you careening backwards onto the ground; every shove from a group of inconsiderate teens. the public pool was a sanction from which you memorized the plains of this uncharted territory. you suppose nothing major could change even with the new development, but crossing paths with this boy was unlikely on an astronomical scale, and the knowing look in his eyes made it all the more complicated.

you love the way his hand presses so deliciously against the small of your back before reeling you from the edge, much like a fish from water. it isn't too far off, as you stand there indecisive between opening and closing your mouth, eyes trailing over the fit form of your savior. he's absolutely gorgeous, for one, and you almost catch yourself drooling over his sun-kissed skin and broad chest, just barely covered by his loose fitting button up. your traveling gaze comes to a halt, however, when it reaches his vermillion hues; their spiteful gleam caught aflame under the sun's harsh glow.

"—and he basically hates me—"

but he doesn't. through a begrudging fit, katsuki acknowledges the feeling in his heart as something akin to fondness, and it hurts to admit that he doesn't entirely dislike it. sure, you're a clumsy idiot with little to no sense of rationality, and you cannot handle simple tasks such as driving a car to save your life (as he has observed over many failed attempts to back into your desired parking space, only to crash into an absurd amount of cars in the process), but he finds those qualities endearing, in a sense. it's impossible not to, after an estimated five months of reliving the same day again and again with the same infuriating person.

and yet, when you look at him with that stupid grin, "infuriating" is the last word to come to mind. it's more than he can manage to say about anyone without pushing down the urge to throw up, so when you finally catch on, he hopes you'll be grateful. oh god, does he ever hope, because no one has ever put in the effort to get to know him well enough and not regret it later, and now he's stuck with you. "i'm just as stuck with you, though." you joke, the summer breeze carding through your hair in waves. all he can muster in response is a half-hearted scoff paired with an elbow to your side.

fuck, you love it. you love the contemplative look that crosses his face during those rare moments when he isn't a wrathful mess of a human being, and when he pushes past you to walk ahead with an unwavering self-assurance in each step. you love the harshness of his words and his unforgiving attitude, and you'd be lying if the malicious smirk he wears doesn't make your stomach twist in the most delightful way.

how this is all possible doesn't even occur to you when he's at your side, grumbling about the man who will inevitably round the corner on his moped and wipe out on the pothole.

you remember how he used to laugh when it happened, and how you thought it was pretty, despite its cackling resonance. its sheer volume was enough to make flocks of birds scatter to the wind, and the pout he wore would have been adorable if it weren't one of shame and disgust at his own expense. it's downright criminal to think that no one has complimented his laugh, and you're so lucky to have been the first, but you might be a little more appreciative if he had sit still and let you admire his blush.

"—but he isn't the total asshole i associated him with when we first met—"

and it's true. he's grown in leaps and bounds towards being a better person, and a perfect example is the moped man, who was promptly stopped from running into the pothole by a tamer, more polite katsuki. okay, perhaps polite isn't the correct term, seeing as he still spoke to the civilian with nothing short of aggravation in his tone, but it was the thought that counted.

you remind yourself as such every morning; the stench of burnt toast trickling in through the crack of your bedroom door to drag you from your slumber. you can't actually recall falling asleep, and although you feel fully rested, it occurs to you that only a split second has passed between the reset point and the moment of your awakening, but you like to imagine otherwise. along with katsuki's company, as well as the fleeting instants of joy found during your little scavenger hunt, it's what keeps you sane.

that's the other thing.

"what the hell is the point in all this?" he bites out, still struggling within your smothering hold. you respond with a lighthearted giggled as you place your chin in the crook of his neck and point at the group of kids running about the avenue between their house and the next. one of the girls is tackled into a hug by who you presume to be her older brother, and seconds later, they both shriek in triumph at the activity found in the treehouse above. spools of fairy lights coiled around the wooden beams suddenly come to life, flickering softly beneath the canopies of leaves above. katsuki will assure you that he despises children, but the gentle smile playing on his features as they scramble up the tree tells a different story.

you figure, "hey, since we're not going anywhere in this temporal anomaly, we might as well make the most of it together!", and thus the map of tiny perfect things is made. it's no vincent van gogh level work—it pains your artist's heart to confess—but you've nearly perfected it over many fitful hours of tracing, labeling and painting, and the results alone are satisfying. although, you won't deny any praise from katsuki when he plucks the map from between the folds of your sketchbook and observes it with awe and what you can't bear to identify as a hint of dejection. you make the mistake of not questioning it, for when he brushes off your request to stay longer, you are left with a sense of dread as you pull the covers over your shoulders, idly caressing the empty space in your bed and wishing he was there to fill it.

what were you expecting? katsuki's nails; bitten down to mere stubs; claw at your flesh as he shoves you away, lips drawn into a snarl. he's desperate now, because bakugou has never said please in his entire goddamn life, but he's screaming it in your face like it will solve his problems. nothing is that simple. of course not. katsuki is complex and overcomplicated, like the rubik's cube sitting unsolved on your bedside table, and he fucking knows it. he knows that you're trying to wear him down enough that he'll collapse in your arms and spill every little detail about his life, and he knows it's out of love, but he can't just lie there and take it. no, he'll go down kicking and punching and biting, just to make sure you what you're getting into when you tell him you care; to make sure he's not dreaming, and that you're adoration for him is nothing but an elaborate illusion meant to torment him. you were sure everything was fine. you were sure, that when the palm of his hand sunk into your own, things would be different, and he had changed.

and he did, to which you must give him credit, but he still stands in the shell of a scared little boy, unmoving with his fists clenched at his sides as he waits for the swift hand of defeat to claim all of his endeavors in a shroud of darkness. it's so unlike him. or at least, that's what you figure before wandering under the fluorescent lights of the local hospital, cradling a newly sprained arm. perhaps attempting a complex skateboard trick on the first go wasn't the smartest idea, but it had seemed like a good one at the time, especially when you were in desperate need of a distraction from the disdain of watching katsuki walk away that night.

he was the last person you expected to see, just weeks later, knees tucked up to his chest he tugs on the sleeve of his shirt. judging by the doctor's evident discomfort, you can safely assume that they were chased out of the room by his biting insults and threats. you spare them a gentle pat on the arm as you pass, soon to stand in the doorway and watch katsuki stand over the bed, which is occupied by a woman with strikingly similar features. your eyes flit over the nametag plastered on the bedframe, and it takes great strength to swallow the woeful sound building in your throat.

mitsuki bakugou.

"—and he has this way about him that never fails to make my heart flutter."

katsuki doesn't approach you for another three painstakingly slow-moving days, and when he does, it is nothing like you imagined. he fumbles for a moment, and you think you've died or you're dreaming because there's no way the boy you fell in love with gets so shaken up over nothing. self loathing is an awful shade on him, but you don't know what he should be angry at himself for if he's done nothing wrong. through gritted teeth, he claims otherwise, pacing the vast field and carding his fingers through his hair, unintentionally tempting you to stop his fretting with a kiss.

it can't end like this. the ties of your future are snapping at an alarming rate, and without his help, you aren't strong enough to hold them together. the realization hits you at full speed, pushing the air from your lungs and causing the mouth to turn dry. you remember every little perfect thing about him, found through tireless digging and excavating of his person. you remember forcing him onto the back of a bike and riding him around town, hearing his complaints gradually fade into cackling laughter and poorly hidden squawks when you made a sharp turn into traffic. you remember the diner, where he insisted that you pace yourself with your milkshake, only for his advice to fall upon deaf ears. he'd guide you home with an arm wrapped around you waist, affirming you that no, "it was not a date, so stop calling it that", despite the warmness on his cheeks when you teased him about it. you remember all the moments where you'd catch his scowl morph into a smile as he watched people, trapped in the happiest instants of their life; the feeling of pride as you saw his callous exterior fade into something gentler, even if only when you were around. "you can't keep doing this to her." katsuki's nose wrinkles, solemnity gracing his expression as he nods at nothing in particular. "you're only prolonging her pain." he nods again, firmer this time, and laces his fingers with yours. whether he's conscious of this or not, you don't care to ask—it's pleasant all the same, and you'd like the cherish this moment for a while longer, if he'll have it. the idle ticking of your watch alerts you that midnight is nigh, and in knowing this, you turn on your side and reach to cup katsuki's face. those final seconds are engraved in your mind, just as the sensation of your lips melding together shall remain for years to come, after all this has passed and everything is as it should be.

the very next morning, you awake with the phantom feeling of coffee stained parchment on the pads of your fingers, and the delicate scrawl of ink beneath them. the last pages of your journal lay open under the bands of light streaming in through your curtains, and with a giddy grin, you register the faint pounding at your front door, along with katsuki's halfhearted threats for you to get up. "—dear diary, this boyhood has been a complete and utter mess. but so is he, and damn it if i don't love him all the same."

[idanit]

possibly underappreciated Good Omens fics I enjoyed once upon a time

Indirectly inspired by a video series about fanfiction I watched, I decided to pull together a list of Good Omens fics I have bookmarked as stories I enjoyed, but which have less than 250-300 kudos at the time I’m writing this. No particular order. They’re accompanied by short excerpts from my private fic reading notes (not originally intended to be read by anyone but me, mind), sometimes slightly edited for clarity—and, sometimes, the comments I left on the fics.

This list sat in my drafts for a long time and the recent S2 announcement reminded me of it. I’d love it if it inspired you to do something similar! Spread the love.

And mind the tags, please.

△ = general and teen ▲ = mature and explicit 

thermodynamic equilibrium ▲ 7K the author has such an ear for dialogue and is unapologetic about what they want to write the characters like. They think of the characters as a mix of TV and book canon, but they feel like a homemade blend to me. (...) It’s very funny.

such dear follies ▲ 6K I can really picture this Aziraphale—Crowley as well, but her especially. She’s rather distinct. (...) Nice writing.

The Words Were With - △ 1.2K post-Blitz vignette, Aziraphale realizes what he feels and wonders if they're human enough for this. I liked it, and I liked the tag "transhumanism, but in reverse?", too—what an interesting idea. I'd say it's a vignette in a dire need of a follow-up, but, well, there's the show. The show is the follow-up. It fits very nicely within the canon and I totally believe it could have happened, like a deleted scene.

Gossip and Good Counsel △ 19K/? I love their companionship and how they're set up to be opposites by the management even though they get on pretty well. It feels very in keeping with the canon, but I feel like the fact that it's an F/F set in this particular time period adds a meaningful layer to the situation. It's women supporting each other in the world of men, working with the personas that are created for them, but, privately, being normal, well-rounded people. (...) and of course your writing is always a pleasure to read. (...) SDHDGDHDHDG Maisie is truly an Aziraphale.

Crowley Went Down to Georgia (he was looking for a soul to steal) △ 6K This was nice. Based on a song I didn’t know. Crowley goes to a funeral in the USA, one of a fiddler he knew and lost a bet to once. (...) The fic has not one but two songs composed for it and embedded inside it and that makes it even better. I really enjoyed the experience.

The Thing With Feathers △ 18K WARLOCK you'rE HORRIBLE AND I LOVE IT I would read an entire novel-length fic just of Crowley fighting his battles with Warlock. Written like this? It would be a blast. (...) The OCs are believably characterized and well-loved by the story. (...) Everyone seems to need a friend in this house. (...) This was so fun, and at the same time, their mission has weight here (...) We wonder about what the future holds even though we know it.

Here Quiet Find △ 11K This fic aimed for my head and the aim was sure precise. It was a story of Crowley sensing Aziraphale's distress and finding him in a self-quarantined English village in the seventeenth century, tired and anxious. It's hurt/comfort, so there was washing and bedsharing and I had to love it, so I did.

outside of time △ 2K Post-Almostgeddon, (...) nicely-written, short, but strung with a soft kind of tension and unspoken words. There's no drama, just "can we really", and "do you really" of sudden freedom. They fall into being inseparable. Book canon, which I like for this story (sitting on a tarmac). I liked the footnotes. There's a mention of Eliot. All in all, very much yes.

She'asani Yisrael △ 2K It’s Crowley going through a two-hour service and drinking blessed wine. He also keeps an eye on a boy he was asked to. It’s 1946. It was pretty good, so far the best Jewish GO fic, I think, from the ones I’ve read.

To Guard The Eastern Gate △ 11K  I loved it. You really made Sodom feel lived-in; the description of Keret, Hurriya and Yassib's house and relationship were great. I got attached to both them and the city (...) Aziraphale and Crawley’s interactions were generally very entertaining. I laughed (...) Your rendering of their voices just lands so well (...) But then oh, the entire ending (...) hurt, hurt a lot, and your descriptions are so vivid.

If you’ve been waiting (for falling in love) △ 14K AAAAA a good ending line. The whole paragraph, in fact. I love a good smattering of philosophy in my fics, and this was really nice. I can get behind Thomas Aequinus's and Crowley's view on eternity. It's (...) a pretty simple fic (...) - the courage to express yourself and take a risk is awarded with winning what was at stake by the virtue of reciprocity - but the way it was intertwined with a study of how they would experience a forever was done well. 

Holy unnecessary ▲ 2.2K It's well-written. (...) this is my type of sexual humour if I have any. So subtle. Blink and you'll miss it. Lovely.

The Parting Glass △ 17K Through the ages, they're dancing around their relationship until after the Armageddoff. (...) Wow, this was really, really nice. Very simple in its concept and nothing I haven't read before, but very well-executed. (...) AAAAH I LOVED the first chapter. I always like abbeys as settings, that's a given, but the banter, the good writing, the moral ambiguity!

Name The Sky △ 33K This Crowley is different, but very intriguing. Without his sarcastic talk, and much more animalistic. (...) I love how expressive Crowley is. (...) This fic has a very nice balance of drama and levity. I don't love Crowley-before-the-Fall stories very much, but with this execution I can read about it. (...) Okay I've read Crowley offering fruits, and even Aziraphale biting fruits, but the two of them sharing the apple? Outstanding. Ingenious. What a take.

A Flame in Your Heart △ 5K post-Blitz (why are so many dance fics post-Blitz?), they go to the bookshop and have an actually believable conversation. Then they dance the gavotte. It was really nice! Believable writing, emotions, the dancing! (...) Of course it's too early for them, (...) but the author's note? yeah.

Put down the apple, Adam, and come away with me ▲ 32K At this point it's just reading original stories with characters with names and some personality traits that I recognize. (...) I really enjoy this, the careful dance, the opposition between their views. (...) This is well-written, wow. (...) it's not an easy read (...) this story feels very believably 50s, but also reaches out to the present time. 

Liebestraum ▲ 10K/? It really is like music. I'm enjoying the writing a lot. (...) oh my actual god. This, this? Wow, uh. This came for my throat. (...) THE MUSICAL COMPOSITION, THE MOTIF RETURNING, THE AUTHOR KNOWS WHERE IT'S AT (...) Excellent. This hits the right beats so precisely, (...) and with feeling, too.

Down Comforter △ 2.4K and they lay down in angeldown, a soft rug ‘neath their heads– alright. Well, Crowley lies under Aziraphale's wing on a Persian rug after the Apocalypse, and they talk (...). It was sweet.

The Corsair of Carcosa △ 5K Crowley wakes up from a nap, visits Aziraphale for some drinking, and they read The King in Yellow that he happens to own. Good writing, so I'm bought. Aziraphale mentions Beardsley, so I'm bought twice over. My god, a discussion of etheral/occult madness? Caused by some wrong/true reading? Yes.

Very Good, Omens! △ 6K It's rather well-written, well-pastiched. People don't do that too often, nowadays - try to write in the style of a particular writer. (...) I love wordplay like this.

Reviving Robin Hood: The Complicated Process of Crème Brûlée △ 30K it's well-written (...), has a rhythm to it, and quiet humour. (...) Finally some nice, good, light writing. The attention to detail! (...) I'm still reading most of it aloud, the rhythm of it compels me to. (...) okay this does sound like Pratchett&Gaiman, the Good Omens itself (...) The fic is meandering, hilarious, sensitive in all the right places, and overall lovely.

my dear acquaintance △ 1K Oh. Oh. Yes, yes! Aziraphale in Russia, Russia I've never been in, but I can feel the snow and the evening of. Very real, and the bar, too. Attention to detail - vodka flavoured with dill, what on earth? Yes. He would totally have a distinct taste in operas and he would totally complain about a subpar one. I'm glad Tchaikovsky's there.

there is a crack in everything △ 1.8K This was good! Ah. Inspired by a comment (...), I went looking for Mr. Harrison and Mr. Cortese fics—really, what a big brain moment someone had and why have I never thought to look for them? This is Crowley getting suddenly anxious and Aziraphale going out of his way, through all his layers of not-thinking and denial, to console him. I also really liked how the Arrangement is a carefully unacknowledged partnership-marriage.

Scales And Gold And Wings And Scars △ 6K  No conflict, no plot, one tiny arc like a ripple on the surface of water on a calm sunny day - of Aziraphale discovering Crowley’s scars. It's the South Downs and it's early summer. They bask and swim in a spring. Non-sexual nudity, love in the air like a scent. Nice.

Nineteen Footnotes In Search Of A Story △ 0.4K This is a Good Omens story told only through footnotes. Your mind can fill in the gaps. Fascinating (...). Also, it’s an experiment so apt for this particular fandom.

Hell on Earth △ 6.5K Oh, I loved it! How could I not love it: it's Beelzebub-centric, it's historical, it has classical painting, and even a hilarious scene with a cuneiform phrase, as if I didn't enjoy this story enough already. There are so few Beelzebub fics out there and I find searching for them very difficult (I accept recs if anyone has any), and it's such a shame, so this was really like a gift to the fandom. I absolutely adore the way you portrayed them, small, frightening, powerful, and confident. Also, it was super fun to see how different Crowley seems when we're not in his POV or in a story about him and Aziraphale. (...)

Go Up to Ramoth-Gilead and Triumph △ 24K Daegaer is... pure class. (...) hdhdhdh what pfttt why you so funny (...) I love this Crowley. (...) This got unexpectedly intense. (...) I love the little nods to the fact that Israelites, especially the poorer ones, still believe in other gods. I also really like that they sleep on roofs. It's just the kind of detail that grounds the story and shows that the author is, in fact, a historian.