#other characters should be relatively smooth

[brambletakato]

When I said that Descole was almost done, I did truly believe that, as in it would take one or two more nights of fiddling around until I could have him be public

Unfortunately, upon an attempt at his cloak and some tinkering, I figured that if I were to continue my current method, it would severely tank performance with minimal returns (it had, at the time, nuked his "good" rating to "poor", which is a step higher than "very poor", which very poor means that the avatar is extremely unoptimized and would not be seen on most games. aka VERY BAD)

With this in mind, I need a bit more time to think and execute alternative methods. However, the good news is that for those with Blender / want to use Descole outside of VRChat, your Descole cloak may actually have bones now that I'm forced to use them :') which might be fun in MMD (although thinking of collisions... shudder. idk how they do it for miku's hair my condolences go out to them)

[morhido]

Sighs. Okay yeah i have thoughts about cgi toothless.

First of all, why does he look so... slimy? He feels too smooth. Like they just stretched some scaly skin over a skeleton and let it walk around. Immediately offputting.

His body language is. Fine? Am i being nitpicky or does it seem just the tiniest bit less expressive? I'm guessing this is either the scene right after hiccup cuts him free, in which case he should be way more intimidating, or the fish-sharing scene, in which case he should feel a little friendlier and more curious around hiccup. It's a quick shot so i won't put a ton of expectations onto it, but i think it's worth noting.

Okay this is a legitimately cool detail though. He has a secondary eyelid!! You can see it slipping away when he opens his eyes. That's a detail exclusive to the books so i like that they included something as small as that.

Sighs again. And this is the shot that prompted me to make this post.

Look at the original, and then look at the cgi version. I could write an essay about how inferior the cgi version is in comparison.

First off, they flattened his face. I swear every iteration of night furies after the first movie has just been compressing their snouts until they're sufficiently 'cute' enough for the audience to forget they're supposed to be sleek and aerodynamic.

Second, his eyes. Absolutely radioactive. I understand using a brighter colour for his eyes, especially in a relatively darker environment to make him stand out and seem more fantastical. But. They're just so bright. It's mildly unsettling how saturated they are compared to everything else.

Third, his eyes. Again.

Toothless is supposed to be terrified but still threatening in this scene, and the original shot conveys that perfectly. If it's a threat, then by all means hiccup should kill it or at least run, but instead he draws a connection between both of them being scared of the other and decides to cut him loose instead. And that's the core of their relationship. Toothless is staring him down with a slitted pupil that could just as easily be interpreted as "fuck around and find out" but hiccup just acknowledges that there's a frightened, injured animal in front of him that needs help, and he helps.

Is any of that conveyed in the cgi version? No!! It's trying so hard to be cute that it's gone full circle back to just being scary. The wide-eyed stare, the dilated pupil, he's basically just saying "🥺🥺 uwu pwease i'm so cute and innocent don't kill me aha 👉👈". Which is a lot less of a compelling reason for hiccup to free him!! Plus the fact that toothless turns up to look at him instead of lying and accepting his fate like in the original, which only makes it seem even more like he's trying to show off how apparently adorable he is.

Idk. Just the difference between the in-your-face sanitised cuteness of "teehe you wouldn't kill little old me would you? 🥺" and the expert subtlety of his "please don't hurt me" of the original doesn't give me high hopes for a toothless that stays true to his character from the first movie. Even from something as small as this. He's gonna get woobified. I can feel it.

[candycandy00]

I’m Your Present! - A Togame x Reader Fanfic

Togame jokingly asks Santa for a cute girl he can play with all night long. He gets you. 

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. All characters are adults. Bondage. Use of toys (vibrators, handcuffs, blindfold, anal beads). Overstimulation. Praise kink.

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!

Part of CandyCandy’s Kinkmas 2024!

Totally ripped from the hentai Eromame. I basically just rewrote it with Togame lol. I recommend giving it a watch! It’s very cute! And required yearly Christmas viewing for me!

It was just a joke, really. Just the Bofurin guys fooling around at their annual reunion/Christmas party. For some reason they always invited the guys from Shishitoren, and Togame always showed up. He brought drinks and passed them out, laughing when someone stuck a pair of reindeer antlers on Sakura’s head. 

Togame can’t remember who came up with the idea first, but someone joked that they should write letters to Santa. Most of the guys were half drunk by that point, so they all agreed. Some of them proudly read theirs out loud while the others cheered. Some very quickly ripped theirs up or threw them away. Maybe they asked for something a little too personal to share with the group. 

As for Togame, he wadded his up and crammed it in the pocket of his jacket, thinking he’d toss it when he got home. 

Now, standing in the kitchen of his small apartment, he fishes the crumpled letter out and smoothes it back out. He chuckles to himself as he reads it. 

“Dear Santa, please send me a cute girl to play with all night.”

He wads it up again and drops it into the trash. What a dumb joke. 

But it was at least a little sincere. Togame hasn’t had a girlfriend since his first year of college, and lately he’s been feeling a little lonely, and a lot horny. 

It’s probably because Choji of all people got himself a girlfriend earlier this year. And in true Choji fashion, he doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut. He’s been bragging about all the sex he’s having with his hot girlfriend, and it’s only made Togame realize how much he misses being intimate with someone. 

It’s all he can think about the last few months, and he’s been jacking off like a teenager. 

He sighs as he takes off his jacket and gets ready to turn in for the night. It’s Christmas Eve, and he’ll be expected to visit his relatives tomorrow. 

Just as he starts to turn his lights off, he hears a thump on his balcony.

You squeeze past three people carrying loads of presents, your own arms full of brightly colored packages. You stack them in the pile next to the giant sleigh, there to be sorted and packed by other helpers. 

Someone calls your name, telling you to come to the office. You straighten your red, fur-trimmed dress and walk back into the main workshop. The office is a wide room in the back where the Wishlist Management team works. Three of them are behind a counter, reading over lists and letters while the rest are either sorting through last minute mail or relaying orders to the workshop. 

“Hello? Did you need me?” you ask, stepping into the room. 

The helper in the middle looks up from a crumpled piece of paper. “We have an unusual wish here. Would you be interested in granting it?”

“Me?” you ask, taking a seat across from the counter. You’re a standard helper, usually working on gift wrapping, sorting, or transporting. You don’t usually make gifts yourself, so actually granting wishes is a little out of your wheelhouse. 

The helper behind the counter looks a little embarrassed as he slides the piece of paper over to you. When you read it, you feel yourself blush. A cute girl to play with? You’re pretty sure he doesn’t mean board games. 

“Who wrote this?” you ask. Sometimes letters like this arrive from teenagers, and they’re always discarded. For the Management team to be taking it seriously means it has to be a sincere wish from an adult. 

The other helper slides a photo across the counter. “Togame Jo. Twenty-eight years old. Lives alone.”

You pick up the photo and look at this Togame fellow. To your surprise, he’s extremely good looking. In fact, he’s totally your type. Midnight black hair and kind emerald eyes. Wow. 

“Of course you’re free to say no,” the other helper says. “We can ask someone else if you’re uncomfortable with-“

“I’ll do it!” you say, cutting him off. 

He looks surprised. “Are you sure? You do know what he’s asking for, right?”

You nod. “I know. I’ll get some toys from the adult department and head on out. Thank you for bringing this wish to me!”

The other helper gives you an awkward smile and wave as you walk out the door. 

You’re not sure why, but you were instantly drawn to Togame when you saw his picture. It’s not just the lovely green eyes or the gentle smile. There’s something there, hidden just beneath his calm expression. A sadness, a loneliness, that touches your heart. You want to give him the best Christmas present ever.

When Togame pulls back the curtain from the glass door to his balcony, he’s not sure what to make of the scene before him. 

Outside, on his balcony, is a young woman sprawled out as if she’d fallen from the sky. 

He hurriedly opens the door and steps out into the cold, but before he can kneel down to check on her, the woman suddenly sits up. She rubs the back of her head and straightens her Santa hat, then looks up at him. 

“Oh, hello! You’re Togame Jo, right?”

Rendered momentarily speechless by this bizarre situation, Togame nods, then extends his hand to her and helps her to her feet. 

“Come inside,” he tells her, unsure of what else to say. It’s too cold to be standing around out here, especially in that short dress she’s wearing. 

Once inside his apartment, he gets a good look at her. She’s very pretty, with a cute Santa girl dress on. It’s candy apple red with white fur trim. There’s a cloth sack hanging from one arm. She’s looking at him with bright eyes and a smile. 

“How did you end up on my balcony?” he asks, shutting the glass door and closing the curtains. 

“The express sleigh dropped me off. I think they misjudged the distance a bit though,” she replies, still smiling. 

“Express sleigh?” The words make no sense to him. She doesn’t seem drunk. Is this some kind of Christmas prank? Before she can elaborate, he asks another question. “Who are you?”

“I’m your Christmas present!” she declares, doing a little curtsy. When Togame simply stares at her with a confused expression, she stands up straight and says, “You did ask for me, right? Someone to play with all night? We got your letter.”

Togame’s stunned face reddens. How did this woman he’s never met before know about his joke of a letter to Santa?! “I didn’t mail any letter,” he says, feeling a bit dazed at this point. He never even showed it to anyone.  

“Oh, that’s okay! Letters with sincere wishes make it to us even without being mailed,” she says cheerily. 

Togame picks up on something. “Us? Who do you work for?”

She giggles. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m one of Santa’s helpers!”

Wait. Is she saying Santa is real? And they somehow received his pervy letter?! And answered it?!

“Uh, that was just a joke,” he says, mortified that anyone saw the letter. 

“Really?” she asks. Why does she sound disappointed? She holds open her sack. “What a shame. I brought all these toys for us to play with.”

Togame can’t resist peeking inside. The sack is full of sex toys! Just at a glance he can see furry red handcuffs, candy cane striped dildos, and what appears to be vibrators. He feels heat creeping into his face as he looks back at her. 

“You’re really my present from Santa?” he asks. 

She smiles so sweetly at him. “Yes! And since you specified ‘all night long’, you have me until dawn. During that time, I’m yours to do whatever you want with!”

Togame swallows. “Whatever I want?”

“Yes!” she says enthusiastically. “So do you want your present?”

The man standing before you seems hesitant. He probably didn’t expect his wish to be granted. 

Togame is even better looking in person. He’s so tall! You really hope he still wants his present. You’ve been excited since you saw his picture, and now you’re practically dripping just from thinking about the things he could do to you.  

He scratches the back of his head awkwardly. “Are you sure about this?”

You nod emphatically. “Of course!”

He still seems a little unsure. It’s kind of endearing. But eventually he gives you a warm smile and says, “Let’s go to the bedroom then.”

Once there, you spread out the toys from your bag on his desk. He looks them over, glancing back at you every few seconds. 

“I can use anything I want?” he asks, picking up a huge dildo and sitting it back down. 

“That’s right,” you tell him, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your eyes gravitate to the small red bullet vibrators. This night is for him, not you. 

“Any preferences?” he asks, looking you in the eyes.  

You blush a little from the heat of his gaze, but shake your head. “I like all of them!”

He picks up the padded handcuffs with red fur trim. “Even these?”

You hold your wrists together. “Just tell me if you want them in front or behind.”

He seems to think for a moment, then says, “Behind.”

You turn around and hold your arms behind your back. You hear his soft footsteps as he approaches, feel the warmth of his body as he stands right behind you. Then, there’s the touch of his hands as he gently secures the cuffs on your wrists. 

When you turn back around to face him, his cheeks are slightly pink as he looks at you. With your arms pulled back, your tits are jutting out more prominently, your dress struggling to stay up and over them. 

He puts his hands on your shoulders, then slowly slides them down, pulling the straps of your dress down with them. Your breasts bounce free as the fabric slides down beneath them. Togame’s eyes widen slightly. He moves one hand up to cup your breast, then lightly squeezes. His thumb circles one nipple as his other hand gropes the other breast. 

You suck in a breath of air as he leans down and kisses your neck, his lips making a soft, wet trail down your collar bone and finally wrapping around a nipple, suckling lightly. 

He looks back to your face, seeing how flushed you’re getting, and ushers you over to the bed. He sits down on the edge of it and unbuttons his pants. 

“Can you get on your knees for me?” he asks, his tone still polite. 

You’re happy to oblige, dropping to your knees right in front of him, staring at his hands as they pull out a deliciously meaty cock. You lick your lips in anticipation, the handcuffs being the only thing stopping you from gripping his shaft immediately. You look up at him with your sweetest expression. 

“What do you want me to do, Jo?”

He blinks at the sudden use of his given name, perhaps a little flustered by how intimate you’re getting. But he recovers quickly, smiling down at you as he says, “Suck my cock, little Miss Santa.”

You don’t waste any time. You lean your face forward and begin licking the hard, thick organ, from base to tip. You make sure to get it nice and wet, coating it in spit before taking the entire thing into your mouth, letting it fill your throat. 

Togame shudders and grips your hair, his cock twitching in your mouth. Maybe he didn’t expect you to take him so far so quickly. 

For a moment, you pause, just letting him feel your throat constricting around him, your tongue massaging the underside of his dick. But eventually you have to breathe, so you pull back just to get some air, only to plunge him right back in. This time you wrap your lips around his base and bob your head, sucking and licking as you go. 

Togame groans, his fingers threading through your hair, holding you firmly in place. You couldn’t pull back enough to let his cock slip out of your mouth if you wanted to. But why would you ever want that? He’s positively tasty, and throbbing so nicely. Such delectable precum is leaking from his tip, sliding down your throat. 

When he reaches his limit, he pulls your head back, and you open your mouth wide, letting the tip of his pulsing cock rest on your extended tongue. As he cums, his entire hot sticky load lands on your tongue and in your mouth, filling it full. 

After savoring it for a moment, you swallow it all, then lick your lips clean. Togame stares for several seconds, his face a little red. You know what you want from him, but you won’t ask directly. Instead, you look up through your lashes and ask, “Did I do good?”

He takes the hint, patting your head and saying, “Yeah, you did really good. Such a good girl for me.”

The words leave you dripping. You squirm on your knees, rubbing your thighs together. Your hands are still behind your back, your dress still pulled down to nearly your waist. 

Togame stands up and goes to the desk to get something else to play with. When he returns, he helps you to your feet and then stands behind you. He reaches around and ties a deep red blindfold around your head, blocking out your vision. You draw in a sharp breath. This is getting exciting!

He guides you back to the bed, and you hear the mattress squeak as he sits down again. Then he turns you around to face away from him and pulls you into his lap. 

You listen carefully, trying to figure out what he’s going to do next. The mystery is making you nervous in the best way possible. You hear only faint sounds you can’t identify, then you feel something smooth and firm touch each of your nipples. Is this…?

A clicking sound, and then one that’s very familiar to you, one you’ve been hoping to hear. The soft hum of the small bullet vibrators! At the same moment, you feel them vibrating against your tender skin, making you automatically jerk on the cuffs. Togame must be holding them to your tits. 

You’re making little breathy sounds, not quite moans but close, leaning back against his hard chest, feeling the cozy fabric of his shirt on your bare back. He’s so warm. 

One vibrator leaves your breast, and you feel him sliding the bottom of your dress up your thighs and above your hips. Thankfully you came prepared and wore no panties tonight. 

He pulls one leg away from the other, and you move the other leg, eagerly spreading for him. Then you feel his fingers on you, stroking your pussy, slipping between the folds to smear your wetness around. 

“You’re soaked already,” he says into your ear. The feeling of his breath so close causes goosebumps to form on your neck. 

“I have been since I got here,” you say back, your voice shaky as his finger circles your clit but doesn’t touch it. 

“Really?” he asks. “Do you grant a lot of wishes like this?”

“This is my first one,” you answer. 

His voice is like a purr. “What kind of work do you usually do?”

His finger is so close to hitting the jackpot. You squirm a bit in his lap. “Ahh… I usually… wrap presents… and sort them…”

You hear him chuckle under his breath. “So why did you decide to do this?”

“Th-they showed me your picture… and you looked sad. I just wanted to give you a merry Christmas!”

There’s a pause, where he stops moving for a moment, then you hear his voice again: “I want to give you a merry Christmas too.”

Immediately after, you feel the vibrator pressed against your clit, pulsing wildly at maximum power. You cry out, your body jerking with the sudden explosive pleasure. 

You cum instantly, trembling in his arms, but he’s still holding the vibrator to your extremely sensitive clit. With your hands cuffed behind you and the blindfold on, it makes your sense of touch so much stronger, and you feel truly helpless in a way that thrills you. 

“Ahh! T-too much!” you whine, reflexively trying to scoot back. But the vibrator is relentless, and Togame’s grip on you is firm. 

“You’re so cute when you cum,” he says, his voice dripping honey. “Show me again.”

The words make your already overstimulated clit throb, and only a few minutes later, you’re cumming again. Your entire body is shaking as you moan, your hands pulling at the cuffs. 

“There you go, being so good,” he murmurs, finally pulling the vibrator away and wrapping his arms around you. He holds you tight until your body stops trembling, then eases you off his lap. He unties the blindfold and lets it slip from your face, but he leaves the cuffs on. 

You look up at him. “What toy are we trying next?”

He walks over to the desk and looks over the items, then holds up a long anal bead stick. The beads are in alternating colors, red and green, and made of silicone. “This looks fun,” he says. 

You climb onto the bed, carefully since your hands are behind you, and look at him over your shoulder. “Come play with me,” you say, wiggling your ass. Your dress is just a piece of wadded fabric around your waist at this point, leaving most of your body exposed. 

Togame steps over and gets onto the bed behind you, pushing your top half forward until your face is pressing into the pillow, your ass in the air. He nudges your knees apart, and you feel him drip lube over your ass, rubbing it in and spreading it over both your holes. You hear him squeezing more out, probably onto the beaded stick, and then you feel the tip of the stick pressing against your little puckered hole. 

When the first bead slides in, you gasp. You’ve never tried this toy before, but you’ve always wanted to. The second bead slides in, then the third. There’s no pain, but the sensation is strange. Two more beads go in, and your breaths are coming faster, your heart racing.

Togame watches his adorable Santa girl twitch and quiver as he pushes more beads into her, causing her dripping pussy to clench and flutter. He’s waited as long as he can. He needs to be buried in this pretty little cunt right now. 

He positions himself at her entrance, rubbing the tip along her slit to let her know what’s coming. Her hands, cuffed behind her, are balled into fists. When ready, he pushes in, going all the way to the hilt and hearing her gasp. She’s so unbelievably tight, he almost gasps too. Maybe it’s because of the beads, but she’s clamping down on him so well he can hardly stand it. 

When he starts thrusting, she makes the sweetest sounds, little cries and moans that dance into his ears, occasionally whimpering his name. 

“Taking me so well,” he says, his hands gripping her hips to keep her in place as he plunges in and out. “Good, good girl.”

She feels so fucking good around him, so soft and warm and pliable. And she’s taking him so deep with no complaints. It’s like she was made for him. 

He reaches down and grips the handle of the bead stick, then begins pulling it out by a few beads before pushing it back in. Her pussy clenches, as if it’s trying to hold onto his dick forever. 

All at once, he pulls the whole stick out in one go. She cries out, her back arching and her mouth hanging open. He thinks she just came again, and it’s making her squeeze him impossibly hard. 

He can’t hold back any longer. This pussy is just too good. With a groan, he cums, shooting everything he has into the deepest parts of her. When he eventually pulls out, gobs of his cum leak out of her, making a lurid sight to see. 

They both pant for a few moments, then he uncuffs her hands and helps her turn over.  

She’s gazing up at him with her big, pretty eyes. “What do you want to play with next?”

She looks exhausted, spent, but she’s still willing to keep going. He’d specified “all night” after all. 

“Let’s take a quick break,” he says. 

They sit beside each other on the bed, and he asks the question that’s been burning in his brain for a while now. 

“After tonight is over, will I ever see you again?”

She looks up at him. “You can if you wish for it!” She seems happy he asked. 

He smiles. “Maybe next year I’ll wish for a wife.”

She flushes, looking away to hide her embarrassment. “That sounds lovely,” she says. 

He wraps one arm around her. “You’ve made this the best Christmas of my life.”

She snuggles closer. “And you’ve done the same for me.”

The two of them sit there a little while, just enjoying each other’s presence, before going back to enjoying each other’s presents.

Tag List:

@coldluminarykoala @atomicweaselpaperapricot @chocoyanchan @calculust-prime

[bookuce]

Change My Mind

SUMMARY: Josh and Alina are great friends most days. Other days, they want to tear each other apart. Some days, they’re in love with each other, but neither of them will admit it. 

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OC. The book uses actual names of wrestlers. Josh is Jey, Jon is Jimmy, Trinity is Naomi, and Alina is Alina. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events (matches, storylines) could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE. THAAAAAANKS. *

PAIRING: Jey Uso x Black OC

TROPE: Friends to Lovers

WARNINGS: Language

WORD COUNT: 10K

PART TEN

PART ELEVEN

Meeting parents was never fun. It was nerve-wracking, stressful, anxiety-inducing––any word you can think of that falls under that category, really. The time was winding down quickly for Alina to meet Josh's family, and she was frantically moving around the bathroom. Her hair decided not to cooperate with her, forcing her to put it up in a tight ponytail. It wasn’t what she envisioned, but it will do. 

Josh sat on the tub's edge, scrolling on his phone while he waited for his girlfriend to finish getting dressed. Just like Alina, he was full of anxiety about his family. Their reasons were different, though. While she was worried about his family's approval, he was concerned with how they would take the news of him relocating. It had been an active plan for several weeks, but he couldn't figure out how to bring it to their attention––until now. They'll take it fine, he thinks. He hopes. 

When Jon told them he and Trinity were moving to Orlando, they didn't put up much of a fuss. Then again, the twins spent plenty of time around that area during their FCW days. There were plenty of family and friends around there that could help them in their times of need. Atlanta, on the other hand, not so much. That didn't matter, though. Josh is a grown-ass man. He can handle himself.

Alina leans over the sink, her face near the mirror. She's lining her lips with her favorite brown lip liner, making sure her lips look full and even. There was a slight tremble in her hand as she traced along the natural lining of her lips. Nerves. "Lina," Josh says, looking up from his phone. "we gotta go." He informs her. They were supposed to have left about thirty minutes ago, but she kept backpedaling on what she should wear.

"I know." She says, finishing her makeup. She glances around the mess of makeup on the counter, looking for her gloss. "I just want to make sure..." 

"Lina." He calls again.

"I look good." she finishes, snatching up the lipgloss tube from the pile of lipsticks. She unscrews the cap and quickly slathers the product across her lips. Josh stands to his feet, slowly approaching the stress-filled woman before him. She stared at herself in the mirror, smoothing out her shirt and allowing her hands to travel over the front of her pants. He wraps his hands around her forearms, giving them a gentle squeeze. Her eyes would flicker to his dark ones, and they'd watch each other in the mirror. 

"You look good," He assures her. "Perfect, to be real." He corrects himself. Josh steps back, allowing his hands to skim her arms to her shoulders. He gives them three gentle squeezes before turning towards the bathroom door. "Let's go before you get me in trouble with my Mama." He informs her, making her turn around to look at him.

"Josh," She groans, nerves setting in for her again.

"Come on, honey." He says louder, ignoring her pleas. "We ain't got all night." She quickly follows after him, soft huffs of frustration leaving her lips. 

Was she ever this nervous about meeting Theo's parents? She tried to recall if she ever felt this amount of anxiety when she met them. Meeting them went relatively well. Then again, she knew enough information on them beforehand to prepare herself. Unfortunately, this was not the case with Josh. He didn't speak enough about them for her to learn who she was meeting, and because of that, she was terrified. Even when she would ask multiple times throughout the morning, he would answer shortly with little information. They're great people, he says. You have nothing to worry about, he tells her. 

Perhaps they were just like Jon and Josh: loud, goofy, and loving. Trinity never had any complaints, either. If she did, she never brought them to her attention. Then again, why would she? Alina and Josh were not in a relationship––their family issues were none of her business until now.

The drive to his parents' home was roughly thirty minutes. They made it two minutes before six, cutting close to dinner time. Alina stares up at the large house from the passenger seat. Her legs now felt like jelly, and she knew they wouldn't hold her up if she got out of this car. Was she being dramatic? Possibly. Whatever happens, tonight would set the tone for her relationship with him and his family forever. 

What if they don't like her? She's heard she can come off uppity at times, and she's been working on that. "Hey," Josh says, pulling her attention from the window. He searches her eyes for a moment before grabbing her hand. "They're going to love you; you know that, right?" He tells her. She watches him for a moment, a soft smile on her lips.

"Get out of my head." She whispers at him.

"You first." He replies. Josh presses a kiss to her hand before dropping it suddenly. "Now, come on, girl, I'm hungry. I ain’t had my Mama's cooking in months." He says, slapping the top of her left thigh. Alina would whine at the playful strike. He climbs out of the car, lightly jogging around to her side to open the door for her. She steps out of the vehicle, taking another deep breath as the realization of her meeting his parents settles in once more. She was now a couple of feet away from them, seconds away from saying, 'Hello, nice to meet you.'. There were multiple cars in the driveway, four Alina counted. 

They're going to love you, she tells herself. Just be yourself, and they'll love you. The passenger door closed behind her, and a warm hand slid into her own. Together, they approach the front door. Josh's left hand grabs the doorknob, twisting and pushing the door open. Warm white light and the aroma of food poured out of the opening. With one last glance at his girlfriend, Josh steps into the house. "Yo, yo, yo," Josh calls.

"Oh, I think that's Josh." A female voice says. "Joshua!" She calls, getting closer. 

"It's me," he replies. A small woman runs around the corner, her arms wide open for her son. Josh drops Alina's hand to fully embrace his mother, giving her the tightest hug possible. "Hey, Mama." He says against her shoulder. Alina takes a step back, clasping her hands tight in front of her while she waits for her turn to introduce herself. 

"My baby is home!" She exclaims, patting his back as she pulls back. Talisua instantly spots the eye injury, her hand going up to examine it. She knew not to question it. She would assume that her son was recovering from someone hitting him too hard in a match or segment Friday night. 

"Damn, she ain't say that to me," Jon says, walking by the hall. "She ain't even hug me." 

"That's because I'm her favorite." Josh jokes, earning a lip smack from his brother and a swat to the chest from his mother. Talisua turns her attention to Alina, glancing over the gorgeous woman standing behind her son. Alina gives a faint smile, unsure whether or not she should say hi or quietly wave. 

Josh notices that his mother has taken sight of Alina and looks over his right shoulder at her, a crooked smile on his lips. He reaches over to grab her hand, pulling her to his side. "Mama, this is my girlfriend, Alina," Josh says. 

Talisua's hands go to her hips as she takes in the woman standing behind her son. There was a hint of a smile on her lips as she peered down at her shoes and back up to her face. "So you're why I haven't seen my son in months?" She asks. The question was a playful opening, not to be mistaken as an attack. Alina glances over at Josh briefly before returning her gaze to Talisua.

"If I knew he hadn't been home, I would have sent him on his way," Alina replies, returning the smile she received. Both women turn their attention towards Josh, whose brows furrowed at the interaction. "He's been acting like he doesn't have his own house," Alina adds.

"He's always been clingy." His mother says, earning a laugh out of Alina. Josh would smack his lips at the two of them, watching as they talked about him. "He used to throw a fit when he couldn't be in my face." She tells her.

"Glad to know some things never change," Alina replies. Talisua links her arm with Alina's, pulling her away from Josh and down the hall to the dining room.

"Bruh, what?" Josh watches after the pair in confusion as they leave him in the foyer alone. He was happy his mother and girl clicked almost instantly––but like this? Oh, the deception.

"Go help the boys in the kitchen," Talisua calls out behind her. "You too, Jon!" She shouts towards the living room. Jon, whose feet were on the coffee table, a remote in hand, turns his attention towards his mom, catching a glimpse of her passing by the room. He'd suck his teeth at her command, shaking his head slightly as he stood to his feet. 

Josh steps into the living room's archway, his eyes finding those of his twin's. Jon rolls his shoulders back, tilting his head up at him. "Your drunk ass..." He says, laughing at his brother as he recalls last night's events. "Have I told you I loved you...!" He sings as he passes Josh, his cackles filling the house. "Boy, your freaky ass better not ever look at another tequila sunrise. You were trying to tear Lina up in the Uber home." He says, causing Josh to shove him forward into the dining room. 

Trinity, Talisua, and Alina peer over their shoulders at the commotion from the twins as they walk through the living room to the kitchen. "Y'all, don't start," Trinity exclaims.

"If you didn't know already, it takes a village to keep these Fatu men in check," Talisua says. Trinity sighs softly at the statement, shaking her head as she does so. "God thought I was well-equipped to handle all boys and make them like their daddy." Talisua looks over at Alina. "Do you have kids?" She asks.

Alina is quick to shake her head at the question. "Two younger brothers, though, so I do understand." She explains. She is the eldest of her siblings. Dealing with the antics of her brothers well-prepared her for this. "I don't pay them no mind anymore." She says, referring to Jon and Josh. 

In the kitchen, the Fatu men prepped dinner––er, somewhat. Sefa was seated at the kitchen island, quietly doom-scrolling on social media. Jeremiah was coming in from outside, a pan of meat in hand. Tonight's dinner was barbeque, something they tended to do often when their entire family was in the same house for once. It was a rare occurrence now that Sefa, Josh, and Jon were all on the road with the WWE. 

At the stove stood their father, Rikishi. He was checking on the mac and cheese, stirring so it wouldn't burn to the bottom of the pot. "Hey, Pops," Josh says, moving past his dad. He pats his back in passing, prompting his dad to look over his shoulder only briefly.

"Hey, son." He replies. "How are you?"

"Never better," Josh replies, leaning up against the counter. "What do you want me to do?" He asks, waiting for orders.

"Get out nine plates, silverware, and cups. Go set the table." He answers. Josh walks around his dad to the cabinets near the sink. He opens them, grabbing out eight plates. 

"Nine? Who else is coming?" Jon asks, prompting Josh to stop at the question. Who else was coming to dinner? Josh begins to count on his fingers everyone that is there right now. Yeah, he counted eight people. "Joe in town too and ain't tell no one?" Jon asks.

Rikishi is quiet for a little bit longer, turning off the stove. "I invited Málí." Josh slowly put his hands down, now watching the side of his father's head. 

"Málí, who?" He asks.

"You know, Málí. Tagaloa, Lílí?" 

"Lílí? She back in town?" Jon asks, glancing over at Josh. 

Málí Tagaloa was a name Josh hadn't heard in years, seventeen years to be exact. Málí and the Tagaloas were old family friends of the Fatus, neighbors in the first neighborhood they grew up in when they first moved to Pensacola. Málí and Josh had instantly clicked when they met as kids, attached at the hip from first grade through high school. Wherever Josh was, Málí was not far behind, and vice versa. People around them were confident they would end up together after high school. They were too––but things happened. Málí received a full-ride scholarship to her dream college, and any chances of them exploring the what-ifs and maybes of their almost relationship went up in smoke.

They lost contact when she went to college. Everything after that was history. Hearing that name after so many years, knowing he would be seeing an old friend any minute now while his girlfriend was in the other room, had scared Josh silent. 

"Yeah, she moved back home from Seattle last week. We ran into each other at the grocery store yesterday. I told her Josh was in town and asked if she wanted to come by for dinner tonight." Rikishi informs them. Josh turns to look at his twin brother. For once, Jon had nothing funny to say to his twin. They both had the same look of concern on their faces. "Perhaps the two of you can go out while you're here. You two always really liked each other––." Rikishi adds.

"That won't be happening," Josh says, shaking his head. 

"Why not?" Rikishi asks, turning to his son. "Good Samoan woman like that––." 

"My woman is in the other room," Josh explains. "You know that." Josh knew his mother updated his father about Alina yesterday. She was too excited about the potential of meeting someone Josh loved enough to bring home. Rikishi was doing what he knew best: how to insert himself in his sons' lives without their permission. Each time they caught on, he would pretend he had no clue what they were talking about––much like he is right now. 

Rikishi furrows his brows at the assumption; the thick black frame of his glasses lifts on his nose with the scrunch of it. "When did you get a girlfriend?" He asks. A look of irritation would flash across Josh’s face as he glanced at Jon briefly. 

"You so—." Josh stops himself from saying anything more, shaking his head. "Man, I can’t believe you’d try that with me." He lifts the plates he gathered from the counter. "You finna get me in trouble over some shit you said to this woman." He mutters angrily to himself as he exits the room. Rikishi turns to his other sons, his mouth agape in shock at Josh. Jon lifts his hands, shaking his head at the man. 

"No comment, bruh." He says, turning to make his way out of the kitchen behind his twin. Jon knew how his father got about them dating women. He had done the same thing to him and Trinity when they first got together. 

Josh's eyes focused on the dishware he held, not looking up once as he entered the dining room. "Josh, look who stopped by for dinner!" Oh, hell, he thought. He halts, his gaze lifting at the sight of the woman standing before him. 

Málí turns at the sound of Josh’s name, her smile faltering slightly at the sight of her old friend. Time has done them both well, but for her, Josh aged handsomely. Though his face had changed, his eyes had not. They seemed to hold the same youthfulness and innocence they had when they were younger. The grey in his beard accented his appearance perfectly, much like a garnish on a dish. She wouldn’t get into the rest of him, though––she had focused on his face and that blank stare he was giving her. After all these years, was he not happy to see her?

Málí had not aged a bit to Josh. She was like a blast from the past, a ghost of his younger days. From what he could tell, all those years away from Pensacola did the woman well. She surprisingly looks the same as she did when she left this place––not a single gray or wrinkle in sight. On the other hand, Josh showed signs of aging well with gray hairs and soft wrinkles. She looked great. That was all he would say on the subject of her. He had to remind himself that she was not brought here as his friend––but as a potential prospect for marriage by his father.

Jon stops behind him, his eyes wide at the sight of Málí. "Shit." He mutters to himself. Alina glances between the pair before her. Strange. "Lílí, what's up, girl!" Jon exclaims, trying to break up the noticeable tension in the room now. He moves by Josh, wrapping the old friend in a tight embrace. Behind Málí, Jon looked at Trinity, who silently asked about the woman her husband was hugging. He widened his eyes at her in response, hoping she'd understand what that meant. They’ll gossip about it like two old church ladies later.

"Long time no see, Jon! How have you been?" Málí asks, pulling back to look up at the tall man. He smiles down at her, his arms still loosely wrapped around her.

"I'm blessed, Uce. I can never complain." He turns the woman to face the two women seated at the dining table. Only one of them was paying attention to Jon and the woman. The other watched her boyfriend, who was paling by the second at the sight of the woman he had yet to take his eyes off. "Lílí, this is my wife Trinity. Trin, this is Lílí, an old family friend of ours." Trinity stands up––her hand extended to shake Lílí's. 

"Nice to meet you!" They exchange with each other with bright smiles.

Jon then turns to Alina, who is still watching Josh. "And this is Alina, Josh's girlfriend." Josh's gaze shifts from Málí's and to Alina at the introduction. They only watched each other briefly before Josh moved towards the table. He places the plates on the table, slowly putting them in their designated spots—Alina peers up at the woman, a forced smile on her lips. 

"Pleasure," Alina says with a nod. She doesn't offer her hand to the woman or stand to introduce herself. She turns her attention back to Josh, who now has his back to everyone.

"Joshua," Talisua calls out. Josh releases a breath he didn't realize he was holding, his eyes shut as he does so. Lord, give me the strength to get through this dinner. Forty minutes in, he was already ready to grab Alina and leave. He should do that anyway. He owed no one any explanation as to why he would head out, but if Josh had to, he would point fingers at the man who was in the room over. But for his mother, he will stay––no one else. Talisua hadn't seen him in a while, and Josh had yet to tell everyone his plans to move to Georgia. 

"Yes, ma'am?" Josh answers lowly.

"Are you not going to say hey to Málí?" She asks. He didn't want to. He really didn't want to. He could feel Alina staring at the back of his head, waiting for him to make the wrong move. She is still trying to figure out who this woman is to him. Jon mentioned that she was an old family friend, but what was with the stares? Josh looked like he had seen a ghost, and Jon also was behaving strangely. 

He wasn't trying to be rude––he didn't want to do this. His eyes pan to the wall as he slowly pivots to face Málí. He avoids Alina's intense gaze, his eyes locking with Jon's before the woman standing by him. A lump began to form in his throat, and no matter how hard he swallowed, it wouldn't go away. "What's up, Málí?" He croaks, tilting his head up slightly. Josh would sway from left to right, his hands slowly rubbing at his hips. 

The two old friends stare at each other for several moments before Lílí finally speaks up. "Hey, Josh." She says softly. "It's been a while." She adds with a slight smile. 

“Yeah,” He says, lowering his head slightly. “How have you been?” He asks, clasping his hands together in front of him. Mál�� takes a breath, nodding her head at the question.

“I’ve been better.” She chuckles. “What about you? You look good––healthy. You look healthy.” She corrects herself. Alina turns her attention to Jon, her brows gradually furrowing as she does so. He’d catch her gaze before dropping his head in embarrassment. He lifts his right hand to rub at the back of his neck. This dinner was already gearing up to be a mess of a situation, and they had no one but Rikishi to blame.

"Food's ready!" Rikishi exclaims, walking in with a bowl of mac and cheese. Behind him are Sefa and Jeremiah, both carrying food. One by one, they line the center of the table with dishes. 

Thank God, Josh thought, thankful for the interruption. Any much longer of that conversation, and he would have dug himself a hole with Alina. 

Little does he know. 

He looks off towards the table before grabbing his seat next to Alina. He pulls it out, dropping into the chair. Alina turns in her chair to face forward, her hands clasped tight in her lap. "Lílí, I hope you brought your appetite." He says gleefully. "Take that seat next to Joshua." 

Rikishi doesn't acknowledge the woman sitting to Josh's left as he takes his seat at the head of the table. "Trin," Jon says, still standing behind Josh. He points at the chair near his brother for his wife to sit in. Rikishi looks to Jon, catching a glare from the eldest twin. Jon doesn't say anything to cause a disturbance but shakes his head in disappointment. Whatever his father had going on was not about to disrupt this dinner. With no questions asked, Trinity stands to her feet, moving to sit in the empty chair next to Josh. Jon takes his seat by Alina, separating Málí, Josh, and her.

Josh turns to his girlfriend, who is intently staring at the table. Alina was never good at hiding her emotions––giving herself away with facial expressions or tones of voice. At that moment, Alina felt conflicted. Was she angry or sad? She wasn’t sure, but she was holding in tears. 

Alina wasn't trying to read into what was happening here, but with how everyone was acting suddenly and how Josh was staring at this Málí person, Alina could only assume this woman was an ex. The seating arrangement, her boyfriend avoiding eye contact with her––context clues. It is only a matter of time before she's searching for an exit from this dinner. 

"Lina, can you pass me the salt?" Sefa asks, forcing Alina to look up from the table. She would give him a tight grin and nod, reaching in front of her for the salt. She lifts it into the air, allowing Sefa to take it from her. "Thanks." 

"Welcome," She says quietly, her eyes scanning the table. She could feel Josh's large brown eyes on her, pleading with her to look at him, but she couldn't. The interaction between Sefa and Alina would prompt Rikishi to finally acknowledge someone other than their other guest for the evening. He looks at the woman seated near his son––his lips slightly parted as he thinks of something to say. 

"So, you're Joshua's girlfriend," Rikishi says, earning the couple's attention. "What is your name, sweetheart?" He asks. Josh leans forward slightly, his head tilted down at his father. He has one time to disrespect her, he thought. One snide remark and this dinner was over.

"Alina." She answers with a grin. "It's nice to meet you, Rikishi." The slump of her shoulders would vanish as she sat up straight for the conversation.

A grin matching Alina's would curl onto his lips at her. "Likewise." He answers with a single nod. "Alright, everyone, dig in." He says, looking around the table. Alina would relax into her seat again, the light in her eyes dimming once more now that she was not being spoken to again. He had moved on from talking to her and was now conducting the food traffic. "Pass me the chicken, please." He says to Jeremiah. 

"So, Alina, you work with the boys and Trin?" Talisua asks from the opposite end of the table than Rikishi. Alina looks at her with a smile, nodding her head. 

"I do! Coming up on three years here soon." She informs her.

"We celebrating?" Jon asks, nudging Alina in her side. She looks back at Jon, shaking her head. He smacks his lips at her answer, muttering words of persuasion to her, hoping Alina would change her mind. She knew he didn't want to celebrate the milestone––He just wanted a reason to party.

"Do you wrestle?" Rikishi asks.

"No, sir, I'm on the broadcast team." She answers, getting only a singular hum from the man. He says nothing else, returning to the meal in front of him. Slowly, Alina's eyes began to shift back to her plate. Was she reading into this too much, or did it seem like Rikishi didn't like her? Perhaps she was reading into it too much and still reeling from the nerves of meeting Josh's family, but then again, she was always good at reading people. He was coming off cold and disinterested in her, the opposite of how you should be with your son’s new girlfriend.

Alina wasn’t the only one who noticed his behavior. Silence fell upon the dining room––glances exchanged between siblings. "So, Lílí, how's your parents?" He asks, seguing back into Málí. He seemed more interested in what Málí had going on rather than the fact his son finally brought home a woman––and Josh didn’t like that.

"Yo, are you good?" Josh asks suddenly.

"Josh," Alina says, shaking her head.

"Nah." He dismisses her. "You've said no more than ten words to her all night. You've known she was coming since yesterday." He says. Rikishi looks up at his son, his brows furrowed in faux confusion. 

"Josh," Jon says now. 

"You know what you're doing, bruh––." He says, ignoring his brother. He points his finger at his father.

"Joshua," Talisua calls out now. His mother's stern tone was enough to silence the angry twin. "It's enough." The room became silent again, but no one resumed eating. The tension in the room was enough to steal the appetites of everyone present. Alina clasps her hands in her lap, her eyes falling to her plate again. 

What a weekend, she thought. Was there a full moon, mercury in retrograde, or something? Was she cursed? Is that what this was? A curse? She attempts to think of who she could have wronged in the past, but no one comes to mind. Well, unless karma works quickly in Tasha's favor for her,––wait, that could be it. "I apologize, son," Rikishi says, throwing his hands up.

"You apologizing to the wrong person." He says. "We can try this,” He motions a circle with his index finger. “again in a minute." He informs him, cueing his apology.

"That's not necessary––," Alina says, shaking her head.

"Like hell, it ain't," Josh almost shouts.

Alina twists her mouth to the side, becoming quiet again. For the second time in a span of three days, she was at the center of a fight. “I said it’s enough, Joshua.” His Mother says. She looks between her husband and son. “Both of you.” She points her index finger between the two men. Josh turns his glare towards the table. 

“So what’s new?” Jon says, trying to break up the tension in the room. “Anyone got anything they want to share with the class?” He asks, glancing around the table with a big smile. “Sefa?” He asks. Sefa stifles a laugh at Jon, pushing his food around his plate. What was happening wasn’t funny, but it was.

Trinity reaches around Alina and Josh and strikes Jon’s shoulder, startling the twin. He leans back, making eye contact with his wife. “Not the time.” She whispers at him. 

Under these circumstances, in this mood that he was in, Josh did not want to announce his departure from the state of Florida, but because Rikishi was with the shit, right now was the perfect time to do so. Josh peers up from the table, taking in the faces surrounding him. Beneath the table, Josh’s hands rubbed against each other slowly, a self-soothing mechanism of his. “I’m selling my house.” He announces, gaining everyone’s attention at the table. 

“You’re moving?” Talisua asks. Josh nods slightly, licking his lips. “Where?” Alina gazed at the side of Josh’s head, waiting for his words. She wasn’t aware that his family didn’t know about the move. This conversation should’ve been a private family matter that didn’t involve her.

“Atlanta.” He answers.

“Atlanta? What’s in Atlanta?” Rikishi asks. Josh hangs his head at the question, pressing his lips together in a thin line. Here he goes, he thought. Rikishi points his hand at Alina. “Her?” He adds. A chill would rush Alina’s body at his tone. Oh, she never stood a chance with this man.

“Me for the last year,” Josh answers, looking up at his father. Rikishi wanted to hear Josh say Alina was the reason for his relocation, which she was, but Josh was not going to give him that. “I’ve been in Atlanta more than I have been here. That’s home now. All the back and forth adds up––.” 

“Let me get this straight. The two of you have lived together for a year, but this is the first time we’ve heard of this girl?” Rikishi questions. “Does anyone not find that a bit strange?” He continued, lifting his hands as he spoke. Rikishi looked around the table at everyone, not receiving a response or reaction from a soul. Alina didn’t expect Josh to talk about her to anyone while they were still friends.

“Look at how you’re acting, bruh. You’re doing my girl like you did Trin when she first came around. You did this up until they got married.” He points out. Trin and Jon would smack their lips simultaneously at being brought up in the argument. “You ought to be lucky they even let bygones be bygones with your––.”

“Enough!” Talisua shouts the moment Josh starts to raise his voice again. “Solofa, I don’t know what has gotten into you, but it stops now. It’s the first time we see our son in months, and he is happy. Why are you trying to take that joy from him?” She asks. It was a question that Rikishi knew not to answer unless he wanted to sleep in one of the guest rooms tonight. “And Joshua,” She calls, requesting his attention. Slowly, he looks up at her. “I’m disappointed in you.”

Josh knew he shouldn’t have said most of what he did or behaved how he did, but Rikishi crossed boundaries. The things he said were consequences of his father’s actions, and he could not bother to be sorry about it—at least to him, he couldn’t be. Only for Talisua, Josh was apologetic. She did not deserve to see them act like this, and how he acted was not how she raised him. “Sorry, mama.” He says quietly. She doesn’t answer him, her glare shifting from her son to her food. Josh looks away from her, his eyes finding his plate as well.

The room was quiet for the third time tonight, thanks to Rikishi and Josh. This dinner wasn’t supposed to go this way, but it did because Josh came strolling in with Alina. Rikishi would have been happy if Josh wouldn’t have brought her home. His plans of having his son’s long-lost best friend and almost lover come back into the fray instantly diminished because of this random girl his son brought home, whom he had no idea existed until yesterday. If Rikishi were happy, Josh would have been happy. If the two of them had been happy, Talisua would have been happy. All of this is because he brought Alina McLemore home. 

It was all her fault.

Alina was at the root of each issue, from Tasha and the wedding to this dinner. She spent the last twenty-four hours panicking about her boyfriend’s family’s approval and the prior twelve panicking about her appearance. All this meant so much to her, these last few days being the most important, only for her to be disliked and disregarded. 

Slowly, Alina stands to her feet, drawing attention to herself. “I’m sorry, excuse me.” She apologizes, stepping away from the table.

“Alina,” Josh calls, turning in his seat as she moves towards the dining room entryway. He turns in his seat to watch her walk, his eyes full of silent pleas for her not to be upset. It was only a matter of time before she went running, and Josh knew it was coming. The last few days hadn’t been kind to her, and just when she thought she was escaping it in Atlanta, issues seemed to have followed them here into his parents’ home in Pensacola. His plan had failed to take her mind off what happened this past weekend. 

“I’m just going to the bathroom. It’s fine.” She promises, vanishing down the hall before he can say anything else. Josh stares after her for a moment longer before turning his attention towards Jon. Their eyes locked with each other before the eldest twin started shaking his head at him.

“Just give her some space, Uce.” He tells Josh. As much as he didn’t want to, he knew Jon was right; Alina needed some space. He turns to face forward in his seat, a huff leaving his lips. This is some bullshit, he thought.

Alina enters the guest bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her. She moves over to the sink, placing her hands on the marble countertop. She leans her weight onto her arms, her eyes closing as she does so. “You’re not going to cry. You’re not going to cry.” She whispers, shaking her head at the sting that fills her eyes. “Think about your makeup.” She reminds herself, opening her eyes to look at herself in the mirror. “See, you look so pretty. You’re going to ruin that if you cry.” She says, encouraging herself with tears forming in her eyes. If only those words were helping.

A knock at the door disrupts her emotional mini-pep rally, causing her to go still at the sound. “Lina, you good, girl?” Trin says from the other side. “Josh sent me to check on you.”

“I’m fine.” She croaks, fighting against the lump forming in her throat. On the other side of the door, Trinity furrows her brows at the sound of her voice. Was she crying? It sounded like it. Trinity grabs the doorknob, attempting to twist it.

“Can I come in?” She asks.

“No,” She sniffs. “I’ll be out in a minute, I promise.” She tells her. “You can go back to dinner. Tell Josh I’m fine.” No sound would come from the other side of the door, but Alina knew Trinity was still there. “Please?” She pleads. 

“Okay.” She replies after several moments of silence. “Love you, girl.” She adds.

 Alina smiles at her words, a few tears escaping her eyes. “Love you too.” She replies. Yeah, she wasn’t going back out there––not like this. 

Trinity stepped away from the bathroom door, a sigh coming from her lips as she did so. She’d shake her head, bringing her index finger to her left temple. “Child…” She says to herself. Tonight was enough drama for the week for her––hell, maybe even for the month. Jon comes dashing around the corner, colliding with his wife. He was on his way to check on Alina because his brother was starting to get antsy. “Hey,” she breathes. 

Jon looks past her and down the hall towards the bathroom. “Y’all good?” He asks with a lifted eyebrow. “Where’s Lina?” He asks.

“She’s finishing up in the bathroom. She’s fine.” She says loud enough for Josh to hear in the other room. “Come here, though,” Trinity says, grabbing his arm and pulling him into the living room. Once in the room, she releases his arm, looking back to ensure no one is coming. “Who the fuck is that lady, and don’t lie to me.”

In all the years that she and Jon had been together, this Málí character has never been mentioned. “We grew up together,” Jon explains. “We lived next door to her family when we first moved here.” 

Jon planned to leave it at that, not wanting to explain the rest of the story. He pushes his hands into his pockets, looking beyond his short wife towards the hall. “And what else?” She asks, lowering her eyes at him. Her husband had a bad habit of avoiding eye contact when he was lying about something, a reason why he just chose not to lie, but this was his brother. Jon would remain silent for a few seconds longer, hoping she would just let it go. He knew she would not. “Babe.” She says sternly.

He would sigh softly, his shoulder slumping in defeat as he met his wife’s demanding gaze. “Her and Josh liked each other back in the day.” He confesses. “It didn’t go anywhere because Málí moved off for college, but everyone knew.” He finishes. In the same fashion that Jon’s shoulders dropped, Trinity’s would too. She lifts her hand to her nose, pinching the bridge of it. Málí was the original Alina. 

“Are you serious?” She asks, looking up at him. Jon confirms with a nod. “This is a hot ass mess.” She says.

Jon scoffs at her words. “Shit, you can say that again.”

In the dining room, Josh and Málí were alone. Jeremiah and Sefa clear the table of all the food while Talisua and Rikishi are outdoors, squabbling about what had transpired tonight. The family dinner was over now, thanks to their father and him. Josh’s leg bounced anxiously beneath the table as he impatiently waited for Alina to return. She had been gone for five minutes, and his brother and sister hadn’t returned yet. “She’s pretty,” Málí speaks, initiating the conversation between the two friends. Josh’s leg would stop bouncing at the sound of Màlí’s voice. He briefly glances at her from the corner of his eyes before returning his focus to the wall.

“Thank you.” He says.

“You’re welcome.” She says, turning to look at him. Lílí’s tongue danced behind her lips as she contemplated her following words. “You think she’s the one?” She asks, prompting Josh to look at her now. 

“I know it.” He replies.

“Good. A big-hearted man like you deserves only the best kind of love.” She says. Josh would scoff softly at her words, shaking his head. Málí smiles softly. “What?” She asks.

“You know why you were brought here, right? Man, that man was trying to set you up with me.” He says, pointing to the outdoors with a grin. It was now Málí’s turn to laugh, her eyes following his point out the window. 

“I know.” She admits, wiping the little grin off his face. Josh would turn his attention to his old friend again, now watching her with the same blank face as earlier. She would watch him back, her smile shrinking in size. “Honestly, part of me really thought that when your dad said you were coming to town and that you weren’t seeing someone, this was the Universe giving us a second chance.” She confesses. “But now that I’m here and see Joshua Fatu all grown-up and in love, I know that that is not true, and this was much-needed closure.” The more Málí spoke, the quieter Josh got. It wasn’t that he had nothing to say to her, but because he didn’t know what to say. Knowing her love for him never faltered despite spending several years apart with no contact racked his brain in a way Josh hadn’t felt in years. Suddenly, he was an eighteen-year-old boy looking at an eighteen-year-old woman again. First loves, first everything. But none of that mattered. Who he was then is not who he is now. 

“I probably could’ve reached out years ago.” She says.

“I could’ve too,” He says, not allowing her to take the blame for their time apart. “I’ve been in Seattle plenty of times throughout the years, and not once did I think to look you up.” He confesses. “My bad, Uce.”

Málí giggles at his apology. “It’s all good.” She assures him. “We cool now, though, right?” She asks. With a grin, Josh leans across the chair between them, his hand extended for their old handshake. With a grin just as big as his, Málí would effortlessly perform the handshake. To know neither of them forgot the greeting made them laugh. 

“Yeah, we’re cool.” 

“Damn, Alina still ain’t back?” Jon says, looking around the room. The pair, still united at the hand, would look up the couple that had entered the room. Trinity’s eyes would focus on joined hands before looking between the pair they belonged to. Josh’s smile would diminish at the mention of his girlfriend. For fifteen minutes, he’s forgotten all about her. Josh’s gaze shifted from his brother to his sister, who glared at him with crossed arms. 

“I thought you said she was good.” He says, dropping Málí’s hand finally. 

“Boy, that didn’t mean you can carry on!” Trinity shouts at him. Josh stands to his feet, moving past the couple. Trinity turns to her man, flexing her hands at him. “Ooh, I want to ring his neck.” She says to Jon. 

Josh makes his way down the hall towards the guest bathroom. “Lina.” He calls out, hoping she’ll answer him before he gets to it. No response would come from the other side of the door, but he could tell the light was on beneath it. “Baby.” He knocks at the door, his ear now pressed to it. When he hears nothing on the other side, he moves his hand down to the doorknob. He twists the handle, cracking the door just a little. “Alina, you good?” He asks. No response prompts him to open the door further, revealing an empty bathroom. He steps in, looking around the bathroom for her. “The fuck…” He whispers to himself. 

Josh comes out of the bathroom, looking up and down the hall. “Ay!” He calls out to his brother and sister. He would see their shadows before they came around the corners. “I thought y’all said she was in the bathroom.” He says, pointing down the hall.

“She was,” Trinity answers.

“She ain’t in there now,” Josh says, opening the door on the wall across from him. His hand skims the wall, hitting the light switch to see if she is inside. “Help me find her.” He tells them, fishing his phone from his back pocket. In three swipes, his thumb unlocks the phone, opens his contacts, and calls Alina’s phone. His phone would hover near his ear as he exited the room and marched down the hall to the next closed door. He was listening for the ring of her phone but heard nothing.

“I’m sorry, but the person you called––.” He ends the call and redials. 

“Lina.” He calls out once more. Still no answer.

“I’m sorry, but the person you––.” Josh ends the call abruptly, slipping his phone back into his pants pocket. He swears under his breath, pivoting in the room he stood in. 

“Uce, she’s not outside,” Jon says, stopping at the door. Josh furrows his brows, his face contorting in anger. He’d suck his teeth in response to him.

“Man––.” Josh starts, charging forward out of the room. He was about to give his old man a piece of his mind. Jon had other plans, though. He pushes his hand into his twin’s chest, slightly shoving him back. “Bruh, watch out.” He says, pushing his brother’s hand away.

“Hollering at that man ain’t going to do shit but make Mama mad. Just go and find Lina. I’ll tell Mama you got an emergency.” He tells him. Josh stands there for a moment, grimace still prominent on his features. “Go!” He exclaims at him, stepping to the side to let him exit. Josh would squeeze past his brother in the door frame, marching angrily towards the front of the house. 

                                          —––––––––––––

Alina was curled into a ball on the couch, her arms wound tight around her frame. The light from the television bounced off the walls and danced along her face, her eyes catching the light stunningly. She returned to Josh’s house about fifteen minutes ago via an Uber she ordered and has since turned her phone off. It didn’t take long for Josh to notice her absence, maybe about fifteen minutes down the road if she had to estimate––at least that’s when his calls started coming in. 

Between his father and this Málí woman, tonight was a lot. It was more than what she could handle at this time. She had spent the earlier hours of the day panicking about his family’s approval, trying to make sure she looked presentable, only for his father not to give her the time of day. At least his mother liked her, or it seemed like she did. Talisua probably thinks the poor girl is a drama queen because of the way she left the dinner. 

The front door opens and closes, followed by heavy footsteps, drawing Alina’s eyes towards the living room entryway. Josh was home. He comes around the corner, stopping in the archway at the sight of her. Josh spent twenty minutes driving around his parent’s neighborhood looking for her before eventually checking her location. When he discovered she was home, he raced all the way here. The couple exchanged brief stares at each other before Alina looked away, turning her attention back to the TV. Josh walks into the room, approaching the couch she is lying on. He leans down, snatching the remote off the table and turning off the TV. 

Silence replaces the ambient sounds of the television, prompting Alina to rise on the couch. Josh sits down next to her, laying his elbows against his knees. His head was low. His shoulders rise and fall with the heavy sigh he releases. “Why’d you leave?” He asks, his voice husky.

Alina watches him for a moment, pondering over her response to him. “I wasn’t wanted––.”

“I wanted you there.” He cuts her off. “I wanted you there.” Alina becomes quiet again, her eyes unblinking as she watches Josh’s back. “You’re always thinking about yourself, putting yourself first, and shit.” He says after several seconds of quietness. Alina’s eyes would venture off to the left while her brows furrowed in confusion at his words. Was he calling her selfish?

“Is that not what I’m supposed to do?” She asks, fixing her gaze on him again. He scoffs at her question, lifting his hands to push his fingers through dark coils upon his head.

“Are we not a team?” He asks, turning to look at her. “Teams communicate, right? So, if something is bothering you, we talk about it, right?” His leg angrily bounced while he watched her. “You abandon the team, and the team falls apart, right?” He says, his tone gradually growing. He was angry with her––rightfully so. She knew he would be when he found her and mentally prepared herself for all the shouting he’d do.

“Josh, I wasn’t going to stay where I wasn’t wanted––.”

“I did for you!” He exclaims, turning to look at her. “You had me off in that damn room with an ex I knew nothing about. He’s sitting here pressing me day into the night, and you couldn’t sit through a family dinner? You had me out there fighting over you, but my pops being an asshole was the line?”

Slowly, Alina began to shake her head, lifting her left hand as she did so. “I didn’t ask you to do that.” She says, earning a laugh out of him. “I told you to leave.” He shakes his head, shifting to turn his whole body towards her.

“Man, you don’t get it, do you?” He asks her. “I stayed because I love you. Despite what you wanted, I stayed for you.” He points. “That is what you do for those you love, right? That was a sacrifice I was willing to make for the sake of our relationship because I want this,” He motions between the two of them. “to work. Love requires sacrifice, Lina. It requires effort.” He explains.

“I understand that––.” She begins.

“Shit, do you? Cause it doesn’t feel like it.” He admits, cutting her off for the third time tonight. Alina would furrow her brows at his question, his doubt baffling her. 

“Are you serious right now?” She asks. “Your father made it extremely clear where I stood with him!”

“Don’t nobody give a damn what he is talking about!” He says, raising his voice. Rikishi is known to be a bit controversial in his interactions with people. Josh was foolish to think he wouldn’t do that with him over Alina. He had hoped that his father would learn from his mistakes with Trinity and Jon, but that was not the case tonight. Same person, same old mistakes. 

“I do!” She says back in the same loud tone. “I care about your family’s approval! If they have to see me for holidays and birthdays, I don’t want to feel like I’m not supposed to be there!” Alina elaborates. It might’ve not meant anything to Josh, but it meant everything to her to have his family’s approval. Josh had already met her family; there was no avoiding it with how often he lingered around her home. The McLemores welcomed him into their family without any issues, objections, or shade. She was not expecting what she got today.

“Then why did you leave? That only made things worse!”

“I’m not staying where I’m not wanted!” She shouts back. “What’s not fucking clicking, Joshua?” Alina snaps her fingers in his face, making him lean back slightly. “You wanted me to sit there and watch him brush me off all night? Make me feel insecure?” She asks. “You wanted me to hear you shouting at him and upsetting your mother? Give them more reason to dislike me? They haven’t seen their son in months because he’s playing house with someone he wasn’t dating six months ago! ” Josh becomes silent, turning away from the woman next to him. He lifts his left hand to the bridge of his nose, gently pinching it. 

Alina would watch him for a moment longer, her eyes unblinking. “You wanted me to watch you stare at your ex the entire night?” Josh’s head snaps at that question, his brows furrowed in confusion. He sucks his teeth at the woman.

“Bruh, what?”

“The girl at dinner. She’s your ex, right? That’s why Trin and Jon had to switch up their seating arrangement. No one would say what was going on, but I was able to catch on.” Between how Josh and Jon were acting and the speed round questions Rikishi was asking her, it only made sense to Alina to assume she was an ex. You don’t move around people like that if they weren’t their ex. Alina gave Theo not even a second at the wedding despite his multiple attempts to talk to her. For the majority of the day, they were apart. The exes were two ships passing at night until he started floating too close to her. 

“She ain’t nothing to me.” He dismisses the assumption after several seconds of quiet.

“I’ve heard that before––,” Alina shrugs.

Oh, how the tables have turned in two days. What Josh was saying to her about Theo, she was now saying about him. Both accusations were untrue, but only one had a higher chance of being true. Where Alina had no contact with Theo, Josh did with Lílí––but he knew who he wanted, and the fact that she said those words infuriated him. He was not him. “Ay, ay, Lina? Don’t fucking compare me to that man. I mean that shit.” He says. “I ain’t nothing like him.” His name and Theo’s should never be in the same sentence, but it was thrown in there, all because of something out of his control. He wasn’t about to plead his case with her over Málí either. He has never given Alina a reason not to trust him––why would he now?

“You know what,” She breathes, “I don’t want to argue anymore, Josh,” She states, standing to her feet. “I’m going to bed.” She wasn’t about to listen to this. 

And there she goes, running away from her issues instead of facing them head-on. It was one of her greatest flaws and the thing about Alina that pissed Josh off the most. “Who said we’re done talking?” Josh asks, standing up to block her path.

“You don’t have to be done with shit, Josh, but I am.” She says, moving to the side. He would take another step to block her. Her eyes would find his chest––her lips twisted as she bit back acidic words. “Can you move?” She requests.

“Nope, we’re talking.” He says. No, you’re yelling, she thought. “I’ve spent two years chasing your selfish ass––.” Now, it was her turn to cut him off. Her hands go up in disbelief.  

“Selfish!? Really? Really?” She shouts. 

“Yeah, really!” He nods. “You got me embarrassing myself for you, trying to prove to you that I am worthy of your time––and you’re going to sit up here and compare me to a bitch that didn’t have the balls to tell you he wasn’t feeling you anymore? Huh?” She sidesteps him, only for him to block her way again. “All because your stupid ass Ex fucked around on your ass don’t mean I will.”

Alina takes a step back at his words, slightly tilting her head at him. “Mm,” She hums, taking a few more steps back. His last words cut through her like a blade. She didn’t like that. Well, damn. Tell me how you really feel, she thought. “Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this.” She voices. She averts her eyes from the man, looking from left to right. “Things were a helluva lot peaceful when we were just friends.” She confesses.

Those words felt weird coming from her mouth, probably because she did not believe a single word she was saying. She loves this man who stands in front of her, loves him with every fiber of her being, but these last few days were too much for her to handle. They’d only had one day of peace in the three days they’d been home together, and she was exhausted. She was tired of crying. She was tired of feeling like she did something to deserve any energy she got from people. She’s done nothing. 

Josh’s shoulders would slump at her words––any anger that he had previously was now gone. He smacks his lips at her words, shaking his head. “Lina––.” He says, reaching to grab her hand. Alina slips out of his grasp, pulling her hand from his. She didn’t want him touching her.

“No,” She says, shaking her head. “I’m cool. We’re cool.” She assures him, stepping around him. He allowed her by this time. “I’m going to sleep in the guest room tonight, get my stuff from your room in the morning, and I’m going to head out after. Save you from embarrassing yourself anymore.” 

Before Josh could say anything else, Alina had rushed from the living room, leaving the regret-filled man standing in the center of the room. Josh brings his hand to his mouth, clasping it tight over his mouth.

He needed to sit down. 

–––––––––––––––––––

A/N: Yay, new chapter! Who cheered! 🤭

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[r0-boat]

So..... About that Naga Baizhu? ¬v¬

Snake Man becomes a snake

read all about it!

Naga!Baizhu headcannons+Short drabble

Cw: kidnapping,

Sfw

Cut for length

It all started when a white snake You saw it cowering in fear as to heartless teenagers poked at it with sticks. Pulling at the poor thing's tail even as the creature tried to escape. They had it trapped, Tormenting the poor creature, not until you chase those nasty people away, picking up the white snake gently. The poor thing was hurt and scared You kept it with you until it was ready to be released. When you released the whitesnake it's lizard in the grass and before it disappeared into the bushes It stood up looking at you with its big Ruby eyes flicking its tongue at you You could almost swore it thanked you before rushing into the underbrush.

Your house was connected to a lot of foresty land in the backyard so you are used to seeing wildlife... But you are not expecting the visitor you'll have this morning.

You're not sure how he got into your house. Maybe you accidentally left your back door unlocked.

You heard voices as you were waking up.

"are you sure this is the one?"

"Yes, they saved me a week ago, they're perfect for you."

"All right I'll start burning the blend."

As the blend burned the scent of lavender sage and a mix of other herbs hit your nose. Calming you, as you just woke up you already felt like you were falling back asleep. Barely opening your eyes You could sort of make out the two.

You almost thought you were dreaming when you saw the white snake the same white snake and hearing that same voice from her once again. "They're waking up."

"Don't worry The blend should put them back to sleep."The man next to her said His eyes liquid gold pupils like a snake as he looks down at you His green hair matching with the green scales on his hands I see brushes your hair back caressing your cheek. "Go back to sleep my dear." His voice warm and smooth like honey.

___________

Baizhu had been looking for a mate for a while now, but since Fall Baizhu was too busy taking care of other wild hybrids to worry about finding a mate for spring. So Changsheng to get upon herself, She was careless wanting to see her friend happy She separated from Baizhu's side slithering out of his cave. She didn't mean to be gone for so long.

However, her search was highly fruitful. She found a nice human, a human that took care of her, patched her up, and saved her. The caring hands in sweet smile reminded her of Baizhu. After getting yelled at by an angry, worried, sick Baizhu, his anger softened when Changsheng spoke about what you had done to her. Changsheng is a somewhat prickly character, so listening to her talk so extensively about you made him interested to meet you.

Baizhu knew humans had different mating rituals and knew full well that humans are not a... Intense, as the dominating aggressive Nagas. As much as his species fantasizes about how weaker humans are to them and how they are the perfect mate because of it but very little have the temperament to deal with the relatively complex emotions that humans have.

Baizhu was different. He was not as aggressive or dominating as members of his species. But he was not certainly considered weak either.

The way he took you back to his cave was regrettably something he could have done better. But for some reason, you took it rather well. You are more interested in his snake companion and Baizhu's snake body (which he was happy to show you.) He thought you would fear him. He thought you would run from him. To his surprise, if you'd let you go, you would even visit on your own accord. And you did! You are a strange one. But he liked that about you. He thought he understood humans more than anyone

I references species a lot, but the truth is that Baizhu is the last of his kind. Even with his dear white snake friend being the last, Naga hybrid was a lonely title, so he was so desperate to have you.

Baizhu is obsessed with your human anatomy; He's never seen humans this close. He plays with your fingers, rambling on about how your body looks similar up until the waist—squeezing your legs, wiggling your toes, feeling your smooth, squishy scalist skin. He wants to see if your body will react just like any other female Naga. He wonders what your body would do if he kissed you hot and heavy.

He doesn't mind if you touch him too, He knows that you're curious about him just as much as he is about you. He warns you that his skin is rather sensitive and he does shudder with Even the lightest of your touches. Eucharest his cheek honey hold your hand while nuzzling into your palm his lips gently touch your hand his golden gaze piercing through you.

Naga's are always considered more aggressive monsters, possessive of their mates, and highly protective. Baizhu is on the calmer side, more docile; however, during spring, when his more... Animalistic urges come to the surface, He gets more demanding of your attention—practically hanging off you, desperate to mark you with his scent. Baizhu tries to hold back a lot of his urges, not wanting to hurt you or scare you. Even if you accept his advances, he is still hesitant and tries to be as gentle as he can before fully succumbing to lust. When the cloud over his mind finally lifts seeing your bruised and bitten body, he takes care of you like any good mate and doctor would.

You were surprised how quickly you became Baizhu and Changsheng's heat pack. Baizhu would try to wrap his coils around you in any way when he's doing anything, especially when it's chilly. He'll literally cling on to you have as much of his skin touching yours as he can. This is not inherently sexual to him. He just likes the feeling of your warm body directly touching him. He tries not to admit it, but he gets pouty when Changsheng is being warmed by you but not him.

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐀𝐂𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄

summary: when the mysterious guy coming into the coffee shop asks you to join him for a concert, you hardly believe your eyes when you meet him there

pairing: idol! childe x student! barista! gn! reader

warnings: suggestive at the end, otherwise fluffy

modern au series || genshin impact masterlist

Working part-time in a coffee shop wasn’t half bad. Sure, as with every job in the service sector, some people just didn’t know how to behave themselves but there were also just as sweet interactions. Your co-worker also made stressful situations a whole lot more bearable, always ready to help you out if needed and handling even the grumpiest customers with ease. Besides all of that, as a college student basically running on caffeine, getting some insight into the business was an added plus as well.

As you got ready for your morning shift on a Wednesday like every other, you greeted your colleague and surveyed the almost empty shop. A few people were typing away at their laptops, others were reading and a steady amount of customers with to-go orders came in. Nothing out of the ordinary, really.

About half an hour in, you were asked to take care of the register while your co-worker went to restock some stuff and things were going well, no fumbling with cash or mistyping any orders. The only note-worthy event of the shift was when a guy dressed in baggy clothes, a bucket hat, a mask and sunglasses came in. If you had to guess he was about your age but it was hard to say with his entire face obscured. Not thinking too much about it, you concluded you had seen weirder characters before.

Until you met him again on your Friday night shift right before closing time. This time again in an all black outfit, shaded glasses on even at that time of the day. Same thing on Wednesday as well. But when you asked if that guy was a regular you had never met before, you learnt that he’d only started showing up recently and that nobody knew much about him except for that he talked the bare minimum while being polite and leaving a generous tip from time to time. He also never showed up during rush hours, only when the shop was relatively empty.

Friday, like clock-work, he was back and when he ordered you couldn’t suppress the cheeky “One iced Americano for the mystery man” that slipped past your lips a little too quickly. The first few heartbeats after, you were terrified you had offended him, that he’d ask to talk to your manager and you’d get in big trouble for being out of line.

But then he started chuckling and pulled his mask down as he leant forward onto the counter. Hooking his pointer finger around one temple of his sunglasses, he slipped them partially down his nose and your first thought was what a shame it was to hide a face like that. Eyes as blue as the ocean and teeth as white as pearls, he looked like someone straight out of a novel, who should not exist in real life. And without his mask muffling it, his voice was smooth and melodic and it made you want to hear more of it.

“The mystery man thanks his cute barista,” he mused, lips curled into a playful grin. And then, this guy had the audacity to wink at you before sliding his accessories back into place, taking his coffee and sauntering out the door as if nothing happened. Meanwhile you were still blinking at the glass he just disappeared through. 

It was just one sentence yet it was enough to pull your thoughts back to the beautiful stranger. Sure, he might not have meant anything serious by it but he called you cute for crying out loud! On more than one occasion, it had you burying your face in your hands at the memory.

So, much to your delight, the next times he stopped by, when he came up to the counter to see you working there, he always pulled his sunglasses down and generally talked more, not necessarily about himself though. It was your co-worker that informed you the guy only did that when you were working the counter, never with anyone else, and that statement had no right to give you as many butterflies as it did.

“So,” blue eyes sparkled down on you as you handed him his change, “I’ve been thinking. And I realised I hardly know anything about the pretty face behind the counter. Quite the shame, don’t you think?”

“Well, uh…” you awkwardly laughed. Pointing to your name tag, you said, “I guess you know my name already… I really don’t know what else to share.”

“Aw c’mon, don’t sell yourself short,” he smiled. “I’m sure there’s plenty of interesting things about you. Okay, let me help you out… Do you like idols by chance?”

“Uhm, I do I guess,” you tried stringing together an answer. Not really the question you expected to be honest. “There were a few groups I followed more closely but lately I’ve not been keeping up much. I’m pretty interested in music in general though.”

“I see, I see.” Leaning forward again and lowering his voice, prompting you to do the same, he continued as if he was sharing a secret. “The thing is, I have concert tickets for an idol group next weekend and I don’t feel like going alone. Care to join me?”

“Did you really spark this whole round-about conversation just to ask that?”

The guy laughed. “Maybe~ So, what do you say?”

“I-” Were you really about to take him up on the offer? No… Were you really about to reject a date with this guy? If you planned to meet at the concert hall, there’d also be a crowd around.  “Sure, I’d love to go.”

“Great,” he beamed, shooting back up with energy to rival a golden retriever. “You’ll be here on Wednesday, right? I’ll give you the ticket then!”

“I can hardly wait,” you laughed, his enthusiasm contagious. “How much do I owe you?”

“Owe me? Oh please, it’s free of charge.” Before you could protest, he already held up his hand to shush you. “I have the ticket already anyway and you’re doing me the honour of your company. Really, don’t worry about it.”

That was how you found yourself trading a coffee for a ticket the following week, a sticky note with a phone number attached, the name Ajax scribbled underneath. Luckily, it was close to the end of your shift because you felt like you could explode from excitement. Walking out of the coffee shop, reality started to sink in; you were going to a concert, with a cute guy, that same weekend… You pulled out your phone and quickly scrolled through your recent calls and barely waited for the other person to greet you.

“Kaveh, I need your help with an outfit.”

Three days and a very stressful outfit and make-up session later, your entire closet had been uprooted and strewn across your room and you still had no idea who “Vizion”, the group you were going to see, was. You really wanted to check them out before the concert but, as it tended to do, life got in the way and the only info you had was that the four members were a fairly new rookie group with some sought-after trainees and a lot of potential, signed under the reputable Lapis Dei Entertainment. But that was about it.

Taking a deep breath, you checked once again if you had the ticket when the concert hall came into view. The venue wasn’t all that big, understandably so for a group still trying to grow their fanbase, and you had relatively little trouble finding the meeting place you and Ajax had agreed upon. As you waited for him to show, more and more people started filling the open space and their excited chatter and laughter was contagious, helping you calm down a little. Just when you went to check the time again, a message came in.

Ajax: I’m so sorry, I’m running late!

Ajax: Please go in without me, I’ll catch up with you later!

Ajax: Again, so so sorry!!

Okay, no need to panic. You could navigate this venue on your own and totally weren’t banking on Ajax’s expertise; this was a walk in the park, right? Yeah, except for the fact you were already struggling to make out where you had to go after passing the general entrance. Apparently a group of fans saw you staring down on your ticket in confusion and decided to take pity on you.

“Heya there!” A guy with two braids framing his face greeted you. “No offence but you’re looking a little lost. First time at a concert?”

“Uh, yeah actually,” you sheepishly replied. “To be honest, I have to idea how to get to my spot.”

“Let me take a look at your ticket,” he beamed and as you handed it to him, a blond and an auburn haired guy peeked over his shoulder as well, while their white-haired friend stood to the side giving you a friendly smile. “Oh hey, what a coincidence! We’re headed to the same area! If you want you can tag along!”

“Thanks, that’d be a great help.”

“You must have really looked forward to seeing Vizion if you’re willing to go to your first concert on your own,” the blond smiled. “That takes some courage.”

“Oh, I was actually meeting with a friend,” you said as the group started moving. “He said he’s running late though. It was his idea to come here, so I don’t actually know too much about the group performing tonight. Are you guys fans of them?”

“I guess you could say that,” Heizou, as he had introduced himself, hummed. “Actually, we know some of the members from before they debuted, so we’re here to show our support or something like that.”

“Wow, that’s so nice of you,” you smiled. “They must be happy to have their friends here.”

“Well, we’ve not been in very close contact for a while,” Kazuha corrected. “Plus, they don’t quite know we’re attending. Thoma would probably freak if he did.”

Sooner than you expected, you found yourself surrounded by other people, some of whom carried signs or wore shirts with names printed on them. You recognised the name of the friend Venti and his group had been talking about; for the others you drew a blank. To your surprise, you ended up a lot closer to the stage than expected; hopefully Ajax would find you here. After all, you mainly came out to spend time with him, not to see Vizion; although going to a concert was a nice bonus.

Passing time by chatting with your new acquaintances, you found out they ran a piercing and tattoo studio not far from the coffee shop together with two more guys. Now that they mentioned it, you did seem to recall your favourite co-worker mentioning something along those lines.

Before you knew it, the lights on stage shifted and the crowd went wild, making you jump out of your skin with surprise. Then, your attention was drawn by the four figures appearing on stage. As a man with blond hair and chartreuse green eyes stepped forward, the men next to you started hollering and cheering like crazy, giving you a hunch as to who he was. Due to the rather small venue for an idol group, he could probably hear them too, making it a point to interact with the other side of the audience while his fellow members covered this one.

And then, fluffy ginger hair and azure eyes captured your attention.

There was no mistaking him. It was the mysterious guy from the coffee shop, who you’d gotten to know as Ajax, making fans scream as he winked in your general direction, a cocky grin decorating his handsome face.Waving into the crowd some more and playing along with the people gathered in the arena, it was clear he was a natural at working the crowd and capitalising on their excitement. Gathering at the centre of the stage, they formed a line.

“Look ahead! Hello, we are,” Thoma started before the rest chimed in, “Vizion! Thank you to all our Fates who are here tonight!”

The crowd broke into wild applause and shouts as they bowed, one or the other shriek of a name piercing through the noise. One by one, the members were introduced; starting by Thoma, the leader of the group, to Chongyun, the icy-haired dance prodigy and Yanqing, the long-haired wonderchild, the youngest of the group. When Thoma lifted his mic, there was only one person left to be introduced and it would be a lie if you said you weren’t brimming with curiosity. 

“Last but not least, please let me introduce our ace, Childe,” the blond announced, waiting for the ruckus to die down before continuing. “Whether it’s rap, vocals or dancing, our oldest will be sure to pull you in with his siren-like voice and visuals.”

“Not to mention that he’s as loud and obnoxious as a siren too,” the guy next to Thoma quipped into his own mic, earning him a few chuckles.

Although you thought at first Thoma was exaggerating when it came to Ajax’s -or rather Childe’s- abilities, you were very quickly proven wrong. Whether it was the fast-paced lines of a verse or the moving high notes of a ballad, you were hanging onto his every word, emotions stirring in your chest and the music flowing through you. Suddenly you understood why sailors jumped overboard after hearing a siren’s song; no wonder you couldn’t get enough of his magnetic voice the first time you heard it.

Time flew without you noticing it. What felt like minutes ended up being hours of you giving a certain someone on stage your undivided attention as you couldn’t physically tear your eyes away from his smooth and fluid movements. Despite not knowing the songs, the energy surrounding you had you jumping with everyone else and picking up on the fan chant as well. 

Maybe it was your imagination, but you could’ve sworn Childe was coming over to your side of the venue more often than elsewhere, winking and blowing kisses to fans around you who melted at the attention. There was a spark in his eyes as he stood on stage, as if performing had him coming truly alive and, perhaps for just a second, you envied his passion. But most of all, you were happy for him.

The absolute kicker of the show, in your opinion anyway, was when Childe disappeared backstage just to come back holding an electric guitar. Playing a few chords to tease the beginning of a song, he soaked up the crowd’s reaction before getting serious. And stars above, he was better than good. Moving across the stage past Chongyun on the drums, leaning in to share a mic with Thoma, his fingers dancing skillfully over the strings as sweat rolled down his temple, toned arms on full display, the image ingrained itself into your brain. You genuinely wondered if there was something he couldn’t do.

Sadly, every good thing had to come to an end, so eventually the artists said their final goodbyes, thanking everybody for coming out to support them, and disappeared under the stage while being showered in thunderous applause. Even as you drifted outside in the sea of people exiting the venue, your heartbeat still wouldn’t slow down as you finally had time to sort out your thoughts. The guy you planned to meet was an idol! That realisation hit you like a ton of bricks and your brain flashed you a slideshow of every possible embarrassing moment in his presence. Very helpful, much appreciated.

“Too bad your friend never showed, huh,” Venti threw out as you finally were under open skies again. “He did miss out on not only spending time with you but also on a good show.”

“Oh he’s here actually.” Not technically a lie, you guessed. Holding up your phone you added, “He just never made it to where we were but I’m hoping I can find him somewhere now.”

“You sure?” Kazuha asked, head tilted to the side. “Should we wait with you? Do you have a way to get home?”

“Oh, I’m fine really. I appreciate the concern though,” you smiled. “Thanks for everything tonight. I really would’ve been lost without you guys.” 

“No problem! As long as you had fun,” Aether chimed before waving as they took their leave. “It was nice meeting you!”

“Yeah and if you ever think about getting a tattoo or a piercing, think of us!” That was definitely Heizou shouting. What a bunch of dorks.

Waiting a few more minutes so you could be sure you wouldn’t run into them again and would have to explain yourself, you got ready to leave. Despite what you said, you were well aware there was absolutely no way you could meet Ajax right now. The way home was uneventful, yet it did nothing to quell the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. Everytime you closed your eyes you saw an ocean blue gaze and a pearly smile. Damn it, were you really crushing on an idol? Well, technically you had been before you knew he was an idol… Shaking your head, you hoped to derail that train of thought before it could even leave the station.

Plopping down on your bed, you stared at your phone trying to figure out what to do now. What did you say in a situation like this? Where would you go from here? With a groan, you discarded your phone somewhere on your mattress and let your back hit your bed before whirling around at the sound of your ringtone. Glaring at you in the dimly lit room was the caller info of the one person your thoughts were racing around. 

“Hi there~” An amused voice greeted you right as you swiped the green icon to the right. “I hope you had fun today.”

“Bold move for someone who never showed up,” you tried to tease, hoping to downplay the nerves thumping up your throat. “You’re putting in quite the effort just to get people to attend your concerts, you know. I don’t think it’s an effective marketing tactic, Childe.”

On the other end of the line you could hear chuckling. “Listen, I really am sorry for pulling that stunt on you, but I didn’t want to ruin the element of surprise of it all. I’ll think of a way to make it up to you; can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“Hmm,” you pretended to think. “Maybe… But in all seriousness, I did have fun tonight and you did a great job. I think I’m gonna be hoarse from all the screaming tomorrow.”

The second the words left your mouth, you wanted to pull them back in. But hearing Ajax’ s smug voice confirmed it was too late as you could basically see his shit-eating grin through the phone.

“Oh really?~” Ajax drawled. “I’ll have to hear you do that again for me, perhaps with less people around.”

“You are the absolute worst.”

© the-travelling-witch 2023 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

[tanzdoesthings]

Birthdays

for the Ancient AU. Five Pebbles and Seven Red Suns celebrates a birthday.

a gift for @ardienothesieno !

“I thought you didn’t do birth-cycles?” Pebbles said as he tilted his head and looked to Suns. His cup clinked against the smooth table, drink sloshing a bit, letting the ice clink against the straw. The room was filled with the low hum of conversation, casual and yet refined. Suns fit in better than Pebbles ever did.

They sipped their drink, as poised as the cycle they met, embodying a silent holiness that Pebbles could never dream of achieving. “No, it is not my usual style,” they reply, “but it seemed valuable to celebrate.”

Void below. What is he supposed to say to… this? All of this! Seven Red Suns taking time out of their busy schedule just to take him out to lunch? He’s an artist and lab tech, for wyrm’s sake, and yet they continue to meet, discussing anything under the sun, and then lower as well. Religion, philosophy, paintings, life, their work on the lifeblood of their civilization. Turning Spires is activating soon, and they’re here. Celebrating his birthcycle.

“Pebbles?” they prompt, bringing him back to the moment. “Is everything alright?”

He nods, taking another sip of his drink. “Just thinking about all that’s happened.”

They raise their glass in agreement, tipping it towards him and then taking another sip. “It’s incredible, really. We always wonder if the cycle has us trapped, and here we are, celebrating it.”

“Tradition, I suppose,” he contemplates, holding the cup on the table.

Suns seems to have noticed the oddities, to his dismay. “We don’t have to celebrate here, you know. I thought it would be nice to take you up here, but you seem… uncomfortable.”

“Thanks for stating the obvious, Suns,” he bites back, harder than he really meant to.

Smoothly, always elegantly, in a single motion, Suns sets their cup on the table, taking Pebbles by the arm and pulling. He almost falls, but manages to keep step with his friend. They travel down the elevator, out onto the street, moving between the flowing crowd.

It takes until they are standing in front of the rolling door to Pebble’s workshop that he realizes what Suns is doing. “Hey- I thought you said no work today!”

Suns unlocks the door. They’ve known the code for many cycles now. “Where do you keep your paints? And an apron, preferably.”

Little Pebbles, standing in the doorway where he was left, stares. “You want to paint?”

“It’s your birthday, yes? You enjoy doing this. I want you to show me.”

It takes another moment before Pebbles snaps back into action, collecting two aprons and moving to hang his mask on the hook- until he remembered Suns was also there. Should he take off his mask-? It would be more difficult to paint with it on- would it be weird?

Maybe it would, except Suns had moved behind him, taking an apron in one hand and holding their own mask in the other, hanging it. Oh. He tries to stop thinking, pulling off his own mask and hanging it side by side. They are smiling at him- have they always been? Their eyes are so vibrant- focus. Paint. Cans are pulled from the cabinet, nozzles fitted and set in front of a blank wall in the workshop.

“It will take some getting used to,” he says, picking up a red can and shaking. “Keep your hand moving, or else the paint will pool and drip.” A piece of paper is handed to Suns, and they reach down to pick up another can. Purple.

They shake it as well, trying a few sprays across the paper. The first two drip, but the third is relatively even. Pebbles watches, and void below is it different having Suns in this workshop. They’re tall, he’s always known this, but even without the mask Suns towers over him. He nods at the test sprays, pointing to the wall.

“We start with a sketch. This will get covered up later, but it’s good reference.” He takes a deep breath, stepping up to the wall. Scholar symbol. That will do. It’s bubbly and big, and Suns moves to add some pearls in around the character.

“Is this good?”

He’s always painted alone, this is so different. It’s good. “Yes, very. I like the way it frames the subject.”

Five Pebbles gets into the rhythm of painting. Shake-shake-shake, spray. Step back, see the big picture. Next color. Repeat. Suns works on the pearls, and they almost glow on the wall, colors weaving together. They’re picking this up well.

“You’re quick,” Suns observes, adding gold to one of the pearls.

“I’ve done this for a long time,” he replies.

More painting. Outlines are added, highlights giving emphasis to the shapes. Suns steps back at this point, letting their friend finish the work.

He steps back, dropping the near-empty canister on the ground. “Well. We did it.”

“Thank you Pebbles.”

“Oh-“ He really had needed to get something on this wall, this had just been a good excuse to-

Suns puts their hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get this cleaned up.”

He nods. It was still so surreal to see Suns without their mask, but there they went, picking the cans up off his floor. He hastily followed, putting caps back on and throwing out the empty ones. It all cleaned up quickly, and they both returned to the cabinet to put away the cans and aprons.

“It’s a shame we must wear these bulky masks and not be able to properly appreciate all the artwork on the walls.” Suns states as they pick up their mask, inspecting it before putting it back on.

“Yeah.”

Suns glances to Pebbles. “Let’s get home. It’s been a long day. Oh- send Moon my regards! I’m still writing a response to her last message,” they laugh, standing and walking to the door.

“Yeah, I’ll make sure she knows.” He follows suit, closing the door behind the two and locking it.

Many cycles later, when he’s running for his life, he’s going to come in this workshop, looking for supplies. He’s going to see the mural, made with the one who set him up to fail. The burns on his hands, his face, all from the void fluid that Suns gave him. And he is going to swallow his despair, and run.

Run far away.

[catalystcorvid]

How to improve your writing

(Exerpts from Chuck Palahniuk's article Nuts and Bolts, edited lightly for my own self reference)

From this point forward you may not use “thought” verbs.  These include: 

Thinks

Knows

Understands

Realizes

Believes

Wants

Forgets

Remembers

Imagines

Desires

Loves

Hates

As well as limiting the use of the following;

Is

Had/Have

Are

And many more.

Thinking is abstract.  Knowing and believing are intangible. 

Your story will always be stronger if you just show the physical actions and details of your characters and allow your reader to do the thinking and knowing.  And loving and hating.

Instead of characters knowing anything, you must now present the details that allow the reader to know them.  Instead of a character wanting something, you must now describe the thing so that the reader wants it.

Your story will always be stronger if you just show the physical actions and details of your characters and allow your reader to do the thinking and knowing.  And loving and hating.

Don’t tell your reader: 

Adam knew Gwen liked him.

Instead, you’ll have to say: 

Between classes, Gwen was always leaned on his locker when he’d go to open it.  She’d roll her eyes and shove off with one foot, leaving a black-heel mark on the painted metal, but she also left the smell of her perfume.  The combination lock would still be warm from her ass.  And the next break, Gwen would be leaned there, again.

No more shortcuts.

Only specific sensory detail: action, smell, taste, sound, and feeling.

Typically, writers use these “thought” verbs at the beginning of a paragraph  (In this form, you can call them “Thesis Statements” and I’ll rail against those, later)  In a way, they state the intention of the paragraph.  And what follows, illustrates them.

Brenda knew she’d never make the deadline.  Traffic was backed up from the bridge, past the first eight or nine exits.  Her cell phone battery was dead.  At home, the dogs would need to go out, or there would be a mess to clean up.  Plus, she’d promised to water the plants for her neighbor…

Do you see how the opening “thesis statement” steals the thunder of what follows?  Don’t do it.

If nothing else, cut the opening sentence and place it after all the others.  Better yet, transplant it and change it to: 

Brenda would never make the deadline.

Don't leave your characters alone.

One of the most-common mistakes that beginning writers make is leaving their characters alone.  Writing, you may be alone.  Reading, your audience may be alone.  But your character should spend very, very little time alone.  Because a solitary character starts thinking or worrying or wondering.  

A character alone must lapse into fantasy or memory, but even then you can’t use “thought” verbs or any of their abstract relatives. 

Oh, and you can just forget about using the verbs forget and remember. No more transitions such as: 

Wanda remembered how Nelson used to brush her hair.

Instead: 

Back in their sophomore year, Nelson used to brush her hair with smooth, long strokes of his hand.

Better yet, get your character with another character, fast.  Get them together and get the action started.  Let their actions and words show their thoughts.  You -- stay out of  their heads.

And while you’re avoiding “thought” verbs, be very wary about using the bland verbs “is” and “have.” Instead, try burying your details of what a character has or is, in actions or gestures. At its most basic, this is showing your story instead of telling it.

The challenge.

In short, no more short-cuts.  Only specific sensory detail: action, smell, taste, sound, and feeling.

Pick through your writing and circle every “thought” verb.  Then, find some way to eliminate it.  Kill it by Un-packing it.

Then, pick through some published fiction and do the same thing.  Be ruthless. Find them.  After that, find a way to re-write them.  Make them stronger.

[hollis-art]

I just love how you draw Data, that is all. He's so silly :D I have no idea how to draw his hair do you have any tips?

Thank you!!! And heck yeah I do!!! My biggest tips for drawing any character, Data or not, is to find references, analyze them, and then simplify them.

I made a little board about Data to help explain a few things, and I'll be typing up what the written parts say because I'm not sure how comprehensible my handwriting is to other people.

Biggest thing to do, is to look up references. He's from a 7 season show, so it's pretty easy to find a large variety of angles no matter what angle you're actually drawing him from.

Just like how you can tell if a Data picture is from the earlier seasons or later ones by the cut of his collar, you can also tell by the shape of his hair. In the first season, his hair was more slicked back, while after that, there tends to be more volume in the front of it. Depending on what season you're going for, that could be something good to keep in mind.

As for the analyzing part, I usually skip this step because of how often I stare at Data whenever he's on screen. But here are a few of the things that I have noticed due to my staring: when looking at him from the side, you will see that bump of volume right at his hairline. It continues back very smoothly into the rounded curve at the back of his head (no indents can be seen), which trails down to the tail ends of his hair in a relatively straight path. The tail end usually is just the right length to hit the top of his collar. And this is something I noticed only recently when trying to draw a portrait straight from an image, but the bottom line of his sideburn lines up perfectly with the top line of his ear (so cool).

In order to simplify the hairstyle, I exaggerate aspects of it to better suit my style. This typically means I ignore how it actually looks, & I make the front & back bump larger than they actually are, also ignoring how his hairline looks in order to cartoonize it a bit more. As long as the basics are there, then everything should be fine!!

While I draw him differently depending on the tool/program I'm using, I tend to draw the hair bump further up on his head, and I exaggerate the size of it. And despite the fact that all the references show the back of his hair being very smooth and straight, I usually indent it or curve it out a bit more. This also includes a shorter, but larger tail end of his hair.

I have no clue how helpful this was, but I am happy to take any excuse I have to ramble about this dude!!!

((I hope my handwriting is legible because I feel like that's easier to understand than the stuff I typed up since it has pictures instead of just my description))

[utilitycaster]

Well now im curious, what are your top 10 etiquette violations

I'm not actually sure there are 10 tbh in that these are relatively broad - you could split them up more finely if you wanted but they cover a wide range of behavior. Also this is...a bit stream of consciousness. I do stand by 1 as the absolute Golden Rule of D&D in that it's really just so Me Me Me (more so than main character syndrome) that it's inexcusable, but like...rules 2- 6 are kind of all in the same nebulous position in my mind as are rules 7-10. 2-6 are "really bad, have a talk and be prepared to kick this person out if they don't shape up and honestly I would probably not want to hang out with them irl much if they don't shape up" and 7-10 are "maybe don't invite them to game nights but they could be okay otherwise."

Deliberately going against the general vibe of the table. This is the broadest but also obviously worst trait. If everyone else is here to play a serious playthrough of Curse of Strahd and they're all vampire hunters and whatnot and you're playing a clown in a hawaiian shirt named Jeff you are not funny; you are an asshole. I think that person who made the post of like "I'm playing D&D with my dad's friends and they're all fighters with tragic backstory and I'm a neon firbolg who resurrects our enemies and runs therapy sessions" should be beaten with hammers. Like, be unique, but if everyone else is going for a lighthearted vibe it's not time to bust out your darkest PC and vice versa. (This also goes deeper, like, if your table has decided PC death in-game is okay, you can request a change, but if you've never spoken up about this and then your character dies and you pitch a fit, that's on you.)

"Um actually my rich family solves this" and similar circumventing of obstacles in a way that cuts off all story avenues. It's fine to offer your services to help - sometimes the party will want it! But the worst player I've played with (who still did not violate Item 1) did this and short-circuited like 75% of the plot by being like "well my wealthy merchant family can probably smooth this over" and I wanted to, well, beat them with hammers. Brian Murphy of Naddpod calls this "showing up and trying not to play D&D" and he's right.

Closely related to/overlapping with item 2 but Main Character Syndrome. If you're a wizard and there's a nonurgent trial of strength? that is for the barbarian. If they ask for help, go for it, but don't just do everything. Share the table. Self-explanatory but man do some people not get it. I'm also grouping this with "my character wouldn't help" behaviors. Like to be clear, forgoing your turn as a roleplay thing is fine, but another Naddpod D&D Court regular topic is like "the player for whatever reason would not join combat bc their character wouldn't, and we nearly had a tpk because the encounter assumed our fucking cleric would be there".

Actually violating player agency. Closely relating to 2-3. Conflict is great and good. I think it's fine to lie, cheat, and steal from your party members if your table agrees on that. There are spells or abilities that lead to possession which is also valid if your table has talked through that. But you do not get to otherwise like, force another player character to do your bidding (unless your table has, again, decided this is okay). You cannot persuasion check other PCs into going against their desires unless that's a very specific conversation you've had out of character as a table. Even in game, like, the DC on persuasion checks can be arbitrarily high - even impossible - if someone would simply never do it.

Noncombat/non-violent D&D. There are other TTRPGs that are not heavily based on war games with character classes that aren't like 90% battle abilities and you should check those out. Anyone who plays noncombat/nonviolent D&D and is proud of it is dumb as the bag of hammers I'm beating the people of items 1 and 2 for and I don't respect them. I guess this isn't so much an etiquette violation in that if your entire table wants this you can all be terrible together, but it is kind of a dick move, especially since I both love D&D and find the anti-D&D crowd to largely be the most sour grapes-ass losers of all time, but also believe passionately that there are many things D&D does not achieve well because it is in fact a specific game with specific objectives. You should, if you want to play a game that is all social encounters and skill checks and no fighting, play the many indie games that would love your patronage and suit you admirably, not the most neutered, milquetoast, unsalted margarine version of D&D. I genuinely believe that people playing murderhobos or hardcore metagamers are VASTLY preferable.

Not making a good faith effort to know the rules. You do not have to be good at D&D. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting for not knowing every rule of D&D. You only have to let the soft animal of your body have at least read the rules of your character's class, subclass, and race, and show up prepared, instead of being like "tee hee I listened to 5 episodes of TAZ Balance and am going to twirl my hair at the DM and hope they help little old me." The DM is BUSY and has SHIT TO DO. Read the fucking manual. It's okay to be wrong! It's not okay to be clueless on purpose.

Rules for Thee and Not For Me. Mostly a DM thing, and to be clear, the DM does have special rules bc they are the special one and this is obviously not about that. There are also rules that apply to NPCs/stat blocks and not PCs, and those are inherent to the balance of the game and are fine because NPCs have different abilities. But if, for example, you are requiring an athletics check of PCs to climb up on a ledge and don't permit acrobatics, your rogue NPC villain can't do acrobatics either unless they have some specific pre-written ability.

Metagaming pt 1: excessive metagaming: Part 2 will reveal the "excessive" but like. If you know trolls regenerate because you've been playing D&D for years but you are a level 4 INT 8 sorcerer in-game? you do not know trolls regenerate.

Metagaming pt 2: refusal to engage with the fact that this is a game: Sometimes you get the reverse, when people are like "well my character wouldn't realize that this magic item was important to your character" despite the other person RP-ing everything or "would I notice you were knocked out directly in front of me? It's a pitched battle!" Like. don't cheat but come on bro. This is, ultimately, a game. I will once again bring up Naddpod both because D&D Court exists AND they will do rule of funny shit (as Murph once pointed out, if you want to say you go to Ruby Tuesday's as a joke, great, if you try to use it mechanically, no, which is a healthy attitude towards immersion) AND Murph understands the concept of kayfabe.

Really extensive indecision that doesn't involve the whole party. This is mostly me but like. it's not fun, and I am impatient. If you're not an actual play livestream, you should take a break and in fact talk out of game and resume because god this drags. If everyone's on board obviously go for it but if it's one person's choice...babe the spotlight is on you, sing your solo or leave.

Basically: remember you are at a table with other people and you are telling a collaborative story in a system that is combat-heavy. I'm not bothered by (for example) someone stealing another character's item so long as they understand that this may lead to consequences for them! If you can dish it out but you're prepared to take it and your table trusts each other? Great! The problem is when people try to win against the other players, ask for special treatment they do not grant others, waste everyone's time unnecessarily, or skip to the end of the story; that's against the fundamental nature of the game. It's inconsiderate AND it misses the point.

[a-magical-evening]

Dear South Park fans/fandom,

I am here today to talk to you very seriously about the South Park mini figure blind bags and share my scientific findings on what I propose the rarity odds are for the figures, seeing as these are not published anywhere that I could find nor on the packaging.

Should you, reader, also be as interested in these figures as I am, please do interact. I'd love to trade data with you, perhaps even the figures themselves as I have a lot of doubles.

Should you simply wish to know who I believe to be the rarest figure in this selection, the tl;dr is Stan. It's Stan.

I'm starting to believe Stan Marsh does not exist.

Available Figures

There are 24 figures available in the collection, as shown in the image above the cut. Eight are full colour, the rest are chasers with eight silver and eight gold.

I definitely haven't been cutting these character checklists up for silly reasons. Definitely not.

My Current Collection

Base Set

Stan: Zero

Kyle: 1

Kenny: 2

Cartman: 5

Wendy: 4

Butters: 5

Chef: 2

Randy: 2

Silver Chasers

Characters I don't have aren't listed.

Wendy: 2

Cartman: 1

Randy: 1

Gold Chasers

Cartman: 1

Randy: 1

A Brief Interlude

Please kneel before Kyle, the only one I've found so far, when he was still in his original packaging.

🙌

Proposed Odds

Character Odds

From least to most common:

Stan - 2% Kyle - 6% Kenny - 9% Chef - 9% Randy - 14% Butters - 17% Wendy - 20% Cartman - 23%

Please note: Cartman is not special.

So if I were to assign rarity odds on characters in general, I think they'd look something like this: 🔴 Common: Cartman, Wendy, Butters 🔶 Uncommon: Kenny, Randy, Chef ⭐ Rare: Stan, Kyle

(I briefly considered categorising Kyle as rare and Stan as super rare, but I have no wish to separate them.) Based on smoothed probability (as I've yet to find Stan), Stan is likely to appear once in every thirty-five bags. I plan to test this, as I currently have 27 bags. If I don't get Stan by my thirty-fifth, I will stop this madness 😆

I'm aware that with this relatively small sample size, these estimates are uncertain.

Chaser Odds

While my sample size is too small to work out character odds with chasers, I can estimate the odds of getting a chaser in general and whether it will be gold or silver:

🩶 Silver Chaser: Roughly 1 in 7 blind bags 💛 Gold Chaser: Roughly 1 in 14 blind bags

It's 22% likely you'll get a chaser in general, so roughly one in five bags.

Other Interesting(?) Findings

The gold finish on the two gold chasers I have so far is very different. As you can see, gold Cartman is very glossy and reflective while Randy is dull. I'd love to know if anyone else has a shiny Randy or if he's doomed to be dull. If there's variation between the finishes, that could make for a more interesting collection. Imagine having all the dull gold chasers AND all the shiny ones. Imagine.

These figures are janky. Check out Cartman's hole and the mess that is Wendy's jacket collar.

🙇‍♀️ Thank you for reading this - I hope it's useful or at the very least, entertaining 🙇‍♀️ Wish me luck in my search for Stan!

[bambi-kinos]

This is just speculation, and your own speculation is very interesting too, but I definitely think Paul McCartney is autistic. I come from a family with a lot of different presentations of autism, and he reminds me of my brother like crazy.

To me, a lot of his more successful social skills come from just being very extroverted and a people pleaser, i.e. he got really good at figuring out how to get positive responses from people in most normal social interactions. To me, the biggest tell is how he handles situations where his wants directly conflict with someone else's: He just completely shuts down and acts like he didn't hear them. That's like. 100% in line with the more socially savvy autistic people in my life (including me to some extent lol). I also don't think he's as good at reading people as you seem to think (this is just a difference in interpretation, not trying to say you're wrong!) I just think he knows what generally makes people happy, and sticks with that mostly, often to the detriment of nuance when it comes to people like, say, George.

I am hesitant to commit to Paul being possibly autistic because I am personally allistic. If I tried to essay about that then I would at best say something stupid and at worst say something bigoted. I am dating an autistic NB but that made me aware of how much I don't know about being autistic and being trans so I tend to back off from those topics. I feel relatively confident about Paul because I've had so many friends who autistic in nerd spaces like this one. Paul doesn't remind me of them. I tend to gravitate to autistic people anyway because autistic people don't mind me being blunt so I have more experience than the average person. But ultimately I just can't bring myself to commit to Paul having full blown autism because I'm not qualified to make a judgment like that. I have to commit to what I know. I trample on a lot of people just in my day to day, I don't want to add autistic fans to that list because they go through enough shit irl, I don't want to add to it on this platform. I am not able to make posts saying "autism Paul thinks this way" or "he does this because autism does that." I don't want to make hurtful pronouncements like that.

My interpretation stems from the idea that Paul is heavily self interested. I don't see much of a people pleasing element to him at all or else George wouldn't have made the "pleasantly insincere" comment about him. I think Paul is much more about camouflage and smoothing things over so he, John, and The Beatles (in that order) can have an easier go of things. The newspaper maneuver always reads as a "I'm pointedly ignoring you to make you feel bad about speaking that way to me" to me.

Otoh I'd really love more interpretations of Paul as autistic provided it was autistic fans making them. (I want authenticity not other allistic fans meaning well and getting it wrong like with the Rosie books.) Part of the mismatch here is that the gulf between allistic and autistic people is narrow but deep and communicating across it is hard.

Like in Ghostbusters fandom the character Egon Spengler has been retroactively recognized as autistic because Dan Akyrod got his autism diagnosis as an adult which then influenced the creation of the character Phoebe who is heavily autism coded. That's cool but what's happened in Ghostbusters fandom is that Egon is infantilized quite a bit which runs against his actual character in the original movie. And I have to think that it is because of the gap between allistic and autistic fans that this happens.

Tl;dr anyone can and should believe in autism Paul, my only thing is that it needs to come from an autistic fan because I don't believe in an allistic fan's ability to understand and portray it well, including myself.

[harlotofandraste]

My thoughts about Dragon Age: The Veilguard (Spoiler free)

After 67.5 hours of playtime, I have finished the fourth Dragon Age game. Overall, I give it a solid 7/10.

I loved

The performance. I have a good gaming laptop, but it is still a laptop. Veilguard runs buttery-smooth, never had any lag or framerate drop or anything. Didn't have any annoying glitches, some very minor graphics bugs two or three times. I know this SHOULD be the bare minimum, but considering it has become the norm to launch games that are basically unplayable because of the number of glitches, this is something to point out!

The overall story, tone and writing. Yes, these were criticised by many people, but I don't think that the dialogue was that clunky, and I certainly did not think that the tone was "not dark enough". Genuinely, people saying the game was too lighthearted and not "dark fantasy" anymore must have played a different game than me.

The look of the environments. Inquisitions landscapes were beautiful, and Veilguard manages to top that in certain areas. Arlathan Forest is absolutely beautiful, and other places you get to explore are horrifyingly, disgustingly vile and haunting and terrifying.

The Character Creator. So many details and so many hairstyles!!! And GOOD, long hairstyles, too!!!

I liked

The Companions. Rook's interactions with the companions is different than in Origins and Inquisition, most similar to DA2. You can't just always come talk to them. But they interact with each other far more than in previous games!! And I am glad there isn't a party banter glitch like in Inquisition - the banter triggers early and often. No hourlong running around in dead silence! And I also liked all the companions as characters, a lot!

The voice acting. Again, I don't really get the complaints so many people seem to have over the voice acting. Really solid imo!

The Combat. I did NOT think I would ever say that. It took a long while to get used to it because I am simply not used to playing action combat games. I only played on Keeper difficulty (2nd easiest), but that was ideal for me to figure everything out. I played a duelist rogue, haven't tried other classes. And I appreciated the uncomplicated respeccing. Especially because I was really intimidated by the complicated look of the skill tree. For rook and the companions, you can respec any skill at any time, so you can play around and try what works best for you.

Exploring. The game is not open-world and I think it was a good choice. But the relatively small areas are packed full with treasures to find. There are little puzzles everywhere. I am a sucker for that kind of stuff. Love puzzles and riddles. Only not putting this under "loved" because it kind of messed with the pacing for me in certain quests. ("Someone's in mortal peril? Sure, hang on, lemme get that treasure chest first")

Certain lore revelations. No spoilers! But we learn some big stuff. I think this was done well for the most part.

I was fine with

The look of the Characters. I was VERY worried about that at first because in general I am not a big fan of the cartoonish artstyle. What was odd is that not all characters seem equally cartoonish? Emmrich seems much more cartoonish than Davril, for example. That is an inconsistency that I found quite annoying. In general, could have been better, could have been worse. I really miss the DA2 look of the Qunari. That Arishok... still thinking about him.

The romance. So I have only romanced Neve, and it was nice. I know other romances are different, they might give you a bit... more. Again, don't want to spoil anything but.... There could have been more.

Cameos/tie-in of established characters. I want to keep this spoiled-free so I won't go into specifics. It was nice meeting some of them again, some of them were.... NOT done right. Yeah I'll reblog this post with a few spoilery thoughts on that. This could have been done a LOT better.

I did not like

Lore inconsitencies. I don't mean major, story-relevant stuff here, just some minor details. It's expected that they will get some stuff wrong but.... ugh. still annoying!!!

The villains are very black-and-white. When I think of Dragon Age Villains, I think of complex characters like Zathrian, Loghain, even the Arishok or Prince Bhelen. Characters you can empathize with, feel sorry for, even side with. The game is very lacking in that kind of complexity.

Lack of impactful, difficult choices. In previous installments, I AGONIZED over so many choices. Harrowmont or Bhelen? Celine or Gaspard? Kill or spare the Architect? Choices I took a long time to think about, choices where the game (and other media) gives you little snippets of information, not enough that you know what the right choice is for sure, but you have a lot to think about and to consider. This does not exist in this game. At all.

Rook can't be evil. I know Rook needs to be the hero. But so did the Warden, Hawke and the Herald. I personally don't like playing the "bad guy". But I like having the choice! If you have the choice to sacrifice Feynriel to the Sloth Demon, it makes the decision to do the right think just so much more meaningful.

And Rook's dialogue options are quite flat, too. The game uses tone indicators like in DA2 and Inquisition, but the tone barely even differs. The joking/sarcastic replies are not that funny (purple Hawke i miss you you will always be famous). The "aggressive" replies are really not that aggressive. Overall, that makes Rook feel quite flat.

I am VERY unhappy with

Okay. Deep breaths. No spoilers. But this game has... issues. For a game that has been in developement for such a long time, there are many aspects that are just unfinished. The Lords of Fortune for example. The entire faction makes barely any sense.

Ignoring most of the worldstate choices... This has been discussed at length before the release, so no need to get into it. But I have always admired Bioware for how they managed to tie in choices from previous games - even if they were just "throwaway oneliners". That was what made the world of Thedas feel real. That's what made Dragon Age special.

The lack of conflict and how slavery in Tevinter is just glossed over. Okay hear me out. I do NOT want more fantasy racism because I think it is cool or whatever. But we're in Tevinter for big parts of the game!! The dreaded empire that everyone in southern Thedas is scared of, where slavery is normal and they do blood magic for fun. All that worldbuilding and the setup is just... basically ignored. The venatori are throwaway enemies just like in inquisition, the politics of Tevinter are almost entirely ignored. And that is, I think, where Veilguard fails to be a proper Dragon Age game. DA was always about mirroring real life conflicts, adressing themes of prejudice, war, racism, homophobia and mental illness directly or through metaphors. Making you think about morality, both your PC's morality and your own as a player and a person. This game... this game doesn't challenge any sort of believes you might have as a person in that way. This is, in my opinion, the biggest failure of the game. The critical look at the real world, through the lense of a dark fantasy game. And if a Dragon Age game is missing that, then it just... misses it's heart and it's soul. Unfortunately, glitches can be fixed but there is no way to patch this.

Final thoughts

Okay, back to a bit more positivity. I enjoyed the game. I really, really had a lot of fun. I screamed, I cried real tears, I felt for the companions and I laughed at the funny moments. Dragon Age: The Veilguard is a good game. Not perfect. And it is perfectly understandable to be critcal of it, unfortunately a lot of criticism gets lost in either "it's too woke" or people who clearly have not played past the first act.

But in general, I think both Dragon Age fans and newcomers will enjoy it and have a good time.

[aihoshiino]

Watching the current ONK season while simultaneously reading the manga really hammers in how the hammer was dropped on some characters (*cough* Akane and Ruby *cough*)

I miss silly goose Ruby. And everything Akane-Kana-related. Tokyo Blade is what made me go 'Kana and Akane should hold hands and make fun of their cringefail boyfriend that has every mental illness (Aqua)'.

Also, unrelated, while I doubt it'd happen, I'd kill for Tokyo Blade to be an actual manga.

I WANT AN OT3 END SO BAD… It'll never happen but I do think it's the most fun ending to me just in terms of how it'd shake up the trio's dynamic. Kana and Akane have suuuuuch an electric relationship in the TB era of the manga, it was always kind of sad to me to see it kind of peter out and get watered down without much follow up to it…

Not that I mind them finally becoming friends obviously, but they're soooooo pointedly hostile and at loggerheads with each other all the way up through to the end of the Private arc that it really feels like that relationship should've had some sort of proper catalyst or some inciting incident that pushed that change forward instead of the relative nothingburger we got.

At least the anime should be consistently good up through the end of season 2…!!! I'm really curious to see what a hypothetical eventual season 3 would look like just because of where the ending would end up landing (ch123 almost guaranteed……….) and what it'd be leading into (Movie Arc……………..) - season 2 has done some really interesting adaptational stuff to both smooth out long term inconsistencies and better set up for stuff they now know is coming, so I wonder if maybe the anime would diverge from the manga a little more to serve as a kind of second draft of whatever the manga ends up doing…?

Daisuke Hiramaki, save the Oshi no Ko…..!!!

[emilykaldwen]

The Maiden and the Drowning Boy | Aegon x OC | Chapter Seven

Rating: Explicit Ships: Aegon II Targaryen x Abrogail Strong (Lyonel Strong's Daughter), Jacaerys Velaryon x Helaena Targaryen

Summary: As the kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos, Alicent Hightower swaps the pieces on the board: Aegon will marry Abrogail Strong, Larys’ younger sister and heir to Harrenhal. Caught in the web of intrigue and political machinations, the pair must figure out where their loyalties lie, and what they mean to one another.

Tropes: Childhood Sweethearts/Friends to Lovers, Generational Trauma and Cycles of Abuse, It's All About the Character Development, Unreliable Narrators, Multi-POV, Canon Divergent, Bisexual Aegon II Targaryen, Book/Show Mash Up, Fix-It Of Sorts, Stopping the Cycle of Abuse before it gets us all killed, Team Neutral, fairy tale vibes meets victorian medievalism meets grrm

no tag list. please follow @emkald-fic and turn on post notifications for updates or subscribe on AO3

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Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

AO3 Link

CHAPTER SEVEN - THE LOOK YOU GIVE

Abby and Helaena find their voices in different ways, and we have new arrivals at the Red Keep.

Abby pressed her hands against her bared collarbones, feeling the prickle of heat that crept down her cheeks and flushed across every bit of skin that was revealed by the square cut neckline of the new gown. Wylla Karstark’s ruby red pout was pulled into an amused smile while she tugged at the laces of the other girl’s bodice. The pale blue taffeta had a satin shine and was, by far, the loveliest thing she’d ever owned. The neckline and cuffs of her fitted sleeves were edged with the finest ivory lace. Her golden red curls hung freely down her back, with delicate, mother of pearl combs keeping her hair from her face and the light, ivory veil that covered her hair in place. She watched Wylla move in the reflection of the mirror, wishing her own hair could look as thick and lovely as the elder girl’s raven curls.

“You look lovely, my lady.” Wylla’s northern accent was a song in itself, her amusement nothing but lighthearted. “You might make him swallow his tongue, since he already can’t keep his eyes off you.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Aegon’s…” Abby bit her lip before Wylla tsked at her like a cat so she could dab some coral paint onto her mouth. Abby remained still and silent until she was done. “Aegon does, well, I mean I do catch him looking. But,” her brow furrowed and her hands fluttered and smoothed over the bodice of the dress. She missed her woven belt, and the feel of the tiny mends she’d made in the fabric.

“But what?” Wylla asked with a finely arched eyebrow and promptly reached up to pinch Abby’s cheeks until they went a deeper pink. She’d been here only a fortnight, having come south with her brother while he discussed some sort of trade agreements, and was promptly pulled into service by the queen. Better than a Hightower cousin, in Abby’s book. With Wylla, she didn’t feel spied on like Lady Penrose, nor belittled. In the short time they had known one another, Abby thought she might be making a friend.

‘Maybe', came the shy, giddy thought, 'she could be a sister.’ She loved Helaena, who had been her sister and companion, with all her heart, but Wylla had quickly filled the empty spot in Abby’s chest that she suspected her own sister, Corynna, should have filled.

It was a strange feeling to not have to take care of someone. While she was still struggling to get used to the idea of being waited on, she wouldn’t deny that there was something in her that ached to be cared for. Wylla’s no nonsense and relatively pleasant manner, and surprising sarcasm, was a delight and a surprise and she found herself hanging on her every word, looking to her for guidance in only these last few days.

“But what, my lady?” Came Wylla’s repeated question, and her cool fingers touched her chin, rubbing off a bit of stray lip paint with her thumb. Abby crinkled her nose and huffed.

“But I feel as though this is too much. That I shouldn’t be… that it’s unseemly to attract attention.”

“Och!” Her fingers flicked the tip of Abby’s nose. “What southern nonsense are you spouting now? You’re betrothed to a prince, are you not?” Abby nodded. “You want him to admire you, and no others, right?”

A heated sensation curled in her chest thinking about Aegon looking at other girls, and resolutely ignoring her. “Well, of course I want him to admire me. I want to please him.”

“And he should also please you, that’s what my mother always says. A woman takes her own pleasure in a marriage, just as much as the husband, and if you flush any redder, you’ll turn into one of those apples, I’m sure.”

Abby nodded again, pressing her hands once more to the expanse of collarbone on display. She felt so silly being self-conscious about her dress. It was nowhere near as revealing as some of the dresses the ladies of the court wore. Nowhere near as revealing as what some of the women she’d seen Aegon flirt with wearing. Collarbones and shoulders and the swells of their breasts teased in the candlelight; Aegon flush with wine and preening beneath the attention.

“Mayhaps I should tug the shoulders down some more?”

Wylla did little to disguise the indelicate snort she let out and Abby felt her hands tug along the tops of her sleeves. “Won’t work on this dress but maybe you should push your breasts up.”

“My what?” Abby squeaked, her hands now pressing against her perfectly concealed bust.

Wylla rolled her eyes, and shoved her hands down her own top to adjust her breasts. “Now you try.”

“I… Oh, just…” Muttering soft curses beneath her breath, she reached down into her tightly fitted bodice to push her breasts up so they swelled ever so softly, framed by the lace. “Do you think he’ll like this?”

“My dear girl, he won’t know what to do with himself. Lucky for me, I get to watch. Now come on.”

Abby’s fingers carefully clasped the thin, silver chain around her neck. The charm was the shield and rivers of her house, tiny against her decolletage. It was so delicate she was always afraid of snapping it, but it was the one bit of jewelry she had. So fretful over herself, Abby did not immediately notice Helaena falling in step beside her, dressed in pale pink and silvery blue, sleeves puffed at her shoulders and elbows. Abby noticed her breasts looked nice in the wide cut of the neckline, not as deep as her own.

“It’ll be better once you have the jewels on you,” Helaena said as if picking up Abby’s self-conscious thoughts, or maybe she simply understood the look. “I like it when Aemond looks at my breasts. Aegon likes breasts, he talks about them all the time. Aemond says Aegon talks about yours a lot.”

Wylla, half a step behind, positively cackled. “Oh, this is going to be glorious.”

Abby knew she was as red as her hair. “I-I can’t do this, I have to change.” Helaena grabbed her by the arm and jerked her back, her other hand coming up to straighten the necklace around Abby’s neck.

“No you don’t. You change nothing, do you understand? There is nothing lacking, and there is nothing wrong with you,” Helaena said softly, brushing a kiss at the corner of her mouth.

She opened her mouth and then shut it with a click of her teeth, nodding mutely and took a deep breath. “I’m not this nervous seeing him day to day,” she said softly.

“Nor when you pulled him behind the tapestry outside mother’s room to kiss him,” Helaena said knowingly, a smile playing across her face. “Or when Aemond found you pushing him up against the bookcase.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Abby could see Wylla’s face going red from how hard she was trying to keep her grin at bay. Failing, of course, but she appreciated the effort. She shifted on her feet and smoothed her fingers over the delicate satin bodice once more. “I don’t think that’s true. Tis I who…” She trailed off, gesturing vaguely into nothing. “It’s rather unbecoming. He never initiates anything. He’s exceedingly good about it.” Which continued to confuse her to no end because she’d seen the way he’d ogle serving maids and the other ladies, not to mention how he did, in fact, like kissing her. She’d seen him reach and pinch a lady’s hip while passing, that stupid and devastating smirk crossing his features. His hands would encompass her waist or cup her cheeks, but other than that, he surprisingly did not reach for her.

He also didn’t complain when she reached for him. Aegon didn’t resist when she was the one who dragged him into quiet spots, grinning at her giggles and returning her kisses.

“It’s Aegon. He’s a fool, and he drinks too much, and if you don’t think he’s as nervous about you as you are of him, then I don’t know what you’ve been paying attention to our whole lives.” Helaena’s tone was gentle, if firm, as if patiently explaining to a child that the sun rose at dawn and set at dusk. Her lavender eyes looked down the hall towards the grand staircase and then reached up to adjust one of the combs in Abby’s hair. Helaena’s own silver-gold hair was braided back from her face, a vine of pearls woven into it. Guilt stung her that she hadn’t been the one to do Helaena’s hair.

“So you’re saying he’s too nervous to, um…”

“Accost you?” Wylla supplied helpfully. “In a good way.”

Abby huffed. “Yes. Accost me the way I want to accost him. No, surely there’s a better word than that.”

A smirk crossed Helaena’s features, wicked and lovely across her pretty mouth. “You want him up your skirts the way you want to see beneath his breeches.”

“Helaena!” Abby gasped just as Wylla let out a bubbling screech of giggles, unable to contain them. Helaena joined in the mirth and Abby growled at them both. “I am not dignifying that with an answer.”

The Targaryen princess, a dragonrider in her own right, with a mount older than most, leaned in to brush her cheek against her own, mouth close to her ear. “I know you were thinking about Aegon when we practiced kisses,” Helaena murmured, mirth in her voice but even amidst all the teasing, Abby didn’t feel belittled. “And you’ve been putting it to good use.” She pulled back, and Abby breathed through the heated pool in her belly and all the squirming wriggling that came with it. “It’s Aegon,” Helaena repeated.

She nodded. “It’s Aegon.”

“He calls his horse Mighty Mighty, and if he could get away with it, he’d likely go sleep in the Dragonpit next to Sunfyre.”

Abby felt herself smiling at that, a soft hint of a giggle escaping her. “Mighty Kostōba, the mighty mighty horse.” None had the heart to correct him when he was young, but the eventual teasing still made him growl. Helaena pressed her hands to her shoulders, turning her back towards the stairs and pushing her forward, smacking her bottom for good measure and earning a yelp for the trouble. The princess grinned, tongue poking between her teeth and blushing, Abby returned it, heading through the growing throng of people moving through the corridor.

“You’re not used to this, are you, my lady?” Wylla murmured beside her.

“Abby, please,” she returned with the anxious thread still in her voice, picking up her skirt out of habit. Thankfully her skirts did not trail. She wouldn’t want to ruin the finery worrying about picking her way through the city.

“Mmm, we’re in public now,” Wylla said but bumped her shoulder against her and the warm fondness usually reserved for the clutch bloomed in her chest at the elder’s camaraderie. “How scandalous.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Abby giggled, inclining her head in greeting as they passed Lord Tyland on the stairs, who only spared a surprised look at her as he headed up. “You’re ridiculous and I love it, truly.” She felt the northerner keep close and Abby reached a hand behind her to take Wylla’s and give it a reassuring squeeze. The Keep was a lot, she knew, and she’d grown up there. She couldn’t imagine how much it was for a woman from the edge of the world and silently hoped that chaperoning them through the city would not be too much.

It was then her eyes fell upon Aegon, lounging at the foot of the stairs against the bannister, arm slung over the carving of the dragon that reclined along the the end, its forelegs and head resting at the pillar. His moonlit hair was a cloud of soft waves around his head, his pale skin pink and very scrubbed clean. The leather jerkin he wore was new: buttersoft black leather with shining, golden clasps in the shape of dragon heads, their gaping mouths swallowing the flame closures. The shirt beneath was red, of all things, instead of the green his mother forced him and Aemond into. As crimson as the Targaryen dragon embolized on the banners around them, the cuffs of the linen were tied with gold lacing that criss crossed their way up his sleeves, his arms crossed while he waited. The golden belt around his waist was carved to represent dragon scales, and a dagger in a matching scabbard hung from it, the pommel also a golden dragon. Even the leather trousers he wore, shoved into shining black boots, had the same gold lacing up the sides.

She bit her lip, admiring him while he hadn’t noticed her approach, until she saw that his gaze was towards a group of women laughing near the doors. The fluttering, heated squirming in her belly increased, and she made a sound in the back of her throat, aware of it only because of how it scratched.

“Did you just growl?” She barely heard Wylla mutter before she was making her way down the stairs.

“There you are!” Abby declared, a smile on her face, feeling the chain of her necklace slide against her collarbones, feeling the warm metal of her sigil charm fall into the slight space between her breasts. Her voice felt too loud, for she did her best to ignore the other gazes that turned in their direction, focused only on Aegon who craned his neck at the call before he jerked up from his languid position to turn fully towards her.

There was a deeply satisfied feeling that trickled down her spine at the way his head meant to turn before looking back again, his lilac eyes widening and turning fully toward her. She smiled far more genuinely this time, feeling the flutter start up again as she approached and took the hand he offered her. “You look very handsome,” she told him softly as he simply gaped at her, her own mouth dry. Her belly fluttered again, and she reached up with her free hand to hook her fingers in the gold necklace he wore, the sapphires winking in the light streaming through the windows. She used her hold on it to tug him down enough to brush a soft kiss against his cheek, leaving behind just a slight shine of the coral paint over the flush of pink that suffused his own cheeks.

She heard Aegon exhale a muttered curse that had her swallowing, his hand warm where it enveloped hers, and he turned his head as she pulled back so his nose could bump against hers. It surprised her, and she let out a soft chuckle that had a grin spreading slowly across his face. Sharp and playful, safe and edged in danger all the same.

His pupils had blown black, the lilac a vibrant ring.

Abby rocked back on her heels, smiling back at him and let go of his necklace.

“Good thing we’re taking the damned carriage,” he said, his thumb stroking against the palm of her hand while he guided her down the last few steps.

“Why is that?” she asked and Aegon tugged her closer so she could slip her hand into the crook of his arm. They were being watched - they were meant to be watched - and she wanted to hide her face against his arm, but instead she only tilted her head towards his as he inclined his own.

“Because I fear someone would try to pull you from the horse and spirit you away,” he said, a sidelong glance towards the guards. She squeezed his arm, her other hand coming up to press against his chest while they made their way out the main doors to the courtyard. The usual smell of the baking red stone had given way to something that was earthier and fresh - the storms the previous few days having washed away the dust and dirt that clung to the air.

The carriage was waiting, the pair of horses attached pawing at the ground, their bay coats freshly brushed and harnesses clinking with the shakes of their heads. The Cargylls were both mounted on their horses as their escorts for the outing, Ser Harrold beside them, his polished helm gleaming beneath his arm.

Kostōba, Aegon’s horse, nearly as precious to him as Sunfyre, stood patiently beside the carriage, reins held by one of the stablehands while the footman stood at the open carriage door. The stallion was a gift for Aegon’s eighth name day nearly a decade ago, and had grown larger than most of the other horses in the stable that didn’t belong to the Kingsguard. His coat was a creamy gold color, dappled in a way that made it seem like he had scales of his own. Kostōba’s eyes, bright and brilliantly blue, took in his surroundings, and he let out a soft sound when Aegon whistled to him.

Abby’s fingers tightened in Aegon’s arm when he started to pull away, confusion tripping at her words. “A-are you not, are we not riding together?” The previous warmth had given way to an icy discomfort, and she reached up to press a hand to her belly, her fingers scraping against the fabric with nervous tension.

“We’re going into the city, so I thought you’d feel more comfortable riding with Lady Karstark.” He avoided her gaze, looking at some other spot on her face. His eyes darted lower, along her low neckline. Heat prickled against her skin, but she was not as giddy for it now.

“You said we’d be riding in the carriage, Aegon.” She hated how unsure her voice sounded in her ears, and she dropped her hands from him and instead held her skirts. A deep breath, and a glance at Wylla to give her a slight, reassuring smile. “Is this because we’re not alone? Because of last time?”

Last time they’d come from the Dragonpit had resulted in them being caught upon arrival, Abby half dragged across his lap, her fingers in his hair and his hands bunched in her skirts. The Queen had subsequently forbidden them from riding Sunfyre together. Abby’s feet were to remain firmly on the ground until the wedding.

She’d been the one to initiate that as well.

Aegon shook his head, a sound escaping him, and he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Immediately, she felt her mouth water, wanting to bite on the tip of his finger, and she allowed him to tilt her head back. The jealousy that lingered hoped those ladies saw this; that he touched her so intimately and not them.

“I meant what I said about rather you being in the carriage than someone thinking that you’re ripe for the picking.” While it was endearing in its own protective way, it now rang hollow to Abby’s ears. They were burning beneath her curls and the soft, ivory veil that hung around her.

“We have the Kingsguard, Aegon, I don’t understand. For that reason, I shouldn’t leave the Keep at all.” Aegon pulled away, brushing a kiss against her forehead, and she longed for more. She longed for his lips in other places. “Aegon-” she made to follow him but Wylla caught her elbow and ushered her towards the footman.

“Get in, make yourself cozy, I’ll handle this.” She said it so matter of factly that Abby could only stare at her. Wylla merely smiled back, bobbing a curtsy, and gathered her dove gray skirts in hand, marching over to Aegon.

Abby climbed in, but lingered in the doorway to watch in fascination as Wylla Karstark hissed something to Aegon, unafraid of whatever royal protocol should be followed. There was some gesturing, and she watched her lady point toward the carriage, angling her way into Aegon’s space, not to flirt, but very clearly to intimidate. Aegon seemed to hesitate, and then shoved the reins back in the stable boy’s hands, tenderly petting the stallion’s neck and murmuring to him, before he marched towards the carriage. Abby hurriedly drew back and took her place against the far corner from the door, smoothing her skirt.

“Better this than me getting Ser Harrold,” she heard Wylla mutter, half in the carriage to glare at Aegon who was behind. “I’m not afraid of some pampered southern boy, dragonriding prince or no.”

Wylla gave her a smile as she climbed in and Abby stared at her in confusion while Aegon followed, throwing himself into the seat across from her as the door latched shut.

“Kostōba not so mighty today?” she asked, her hurt feelings demanding she needle him, even as her usual cheerful mask slid over her features. Aegon barely spared her a glance, pouting like a child instead of a man grown.

The carriage jerked as they headed through the gate and down the road. Wylla had turned her attention to unlatching the lattice covering on the window to peer out, the illusion of privacy appreciated. Aegon’s neck was as red as his shirt. He was clearly refusing to look at her and it wasn’t the first time he’d done this. In fact, Aegon had jumped from any casual touch she gave for the past few months. It was why they hadn’t ridden on Sunfyre together until they’d gone flying on the picnic and he’d apologized to her. Where she’d kissed him. In the subsequent weeks, between kisses she’d stolen because it was her stealing all the kisses, and dragging Aegon behind blind corners, although he never complained.

“I meant it, you know. That you look handsome today.” While she didn’t mind silence, she didn’t like this silence. The type where it felt like there were teeth along the edges, chewing into it if they weren’t careful. “I don’t know why that seems to have offended you so much.” The words came out a little harsher than she meant, her arms wrapped around herself and her gaze turned away.

“It didn’t offend me. I just thought that you’d like some privacy.” There was a crack at the edge of Aegon’s voice and it drew her gaze to the prince. Her betrothed. The one who tasted like whatever sweets he’d stolen from her, and whose hands felt like they’d swallow her whole, so hot that she could feel them through the layers of her gowns.

Abby turned from the window to look at him and met his gaze. Not as black as it had been in the hall. His eyes always went dark when she kissed him, so she knew that it was supposed to be a good thing, and she couldn’t understand why he was acting like this. She had been agonizing for days about this. She had just been lamenting to Wylla and Helaena about this and thought ‘This is just silly, Aegon cares for me, look at how he watched me come down the stairs’ but his mercurial behavior was nearly as bad as his mother’s.

The comparison was on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she met his lilac gaze with her own, blue eyes fixed upon his face, and said, “One moment, your hands are in my hair, and you look at me like I’m some sort of salvation or that you want to devour me. The next moment, like just now, you couldn’t get away from me fast enough. Lady Wylla had to threaten you to get in here-”

“She did no such-”

“I absolutely did,” Wylla interrupted. “Oh, wait, I’m not supposed to be listening.”

Aegon’s mouth snapped shut, and Abby didn’t glance over at the other side of the carriage. She kept her eyes on his. “If you don’t want me, then we’ll turn the carriage around and tell your mother.” She smoothed her hands over her skirt and took a deep breath. She was worried that tears would threaten, but her eyes remained mercifully clear and she raised her eyebrows at him. Aegon was staring at her, the pout faded from his sullen expression to look wide eyed in surprise. “We can. You can stop this. It’ll fade away, only just a rumor. A dalliance. There is no shame in being a prince’s momentary plaything, since we haven’t… I kissed you first, after all. I have only ever kissed you first and I will not let you keep doing this to me-”

One second, Aegon was frozen in his seat staring at her, the next, his hands grabbed hers and yanked her to him. Abby fell into him with the rocking of the carriage, and before she could straighten herself, Aegon kissed her.

Aegon kissed her first.

One large hand wound around her back while the other cradled the back of her head, his fingers tangled in the hair that escaped her veil. His mouth wasn't as soft as it had been before, this time moving as if he would claim her here in this carriage. She gasped when he tightened his hold against her, and he used the opportunity to slide his tongue between her parted lips, to curl it behind her teeth. She swallowed his sigh, her fingers bunching up the soft, red linen of his shirtsleeves.

Wylla’s presence was forgotten. All that existed was the way Aegon was kissing her like he was starving, as if someone had tried to take her from him - like in a song, like she was the source of every breath he needed. When they finally parted, Aegon tilted his head back against the side of the carriage, watching her with half lidded eyes and his mouth smeared with coral lip paint.

He hummed and she could feel it vibrate through her and she found herself humming in return, still holding herself with her grip on his arms. “I’ll fight anyone who suggests you’re a mere dalliance,” he said with his voice heavy. Abby reached up to cup his chin and stroke her thumb along where the color had smeared, wiping it away.

“So you’ll fight yourself, Your Grace?” She couldn’t help but point out that kissing her senseless was well and good, but her heart still felt sore and confused by his treatment.

Aegon scoffed and drew her closer with his fingers still cradling her head. She felt warm, and soft, and the sound that escaped her was equally so - a little mewl and a question she didn’t have the words to voice but that he seemed to understand because he licked along her cupid’s bow, teasing her and nipping at the swollen pout of her lower lip. “This is why I am the way I am, hunītsos.”

“I don’t understand,” she murmured with a shake of her head. Aegon’s fingers tightened briefly and drew a soft gasp from her when his grip tugged at her scalp. She shivered and his eyes glanced down to her low neckline, his teeth scraping over his own lower lip like he wanted to bury her face between her breasts. The understanding of why Wylla was in the carriage with them nudged at her, because had they been alone, Abby didn’t think she would even deny him. In fact, she thought she might even invite him to do so.

“What don’t you understand?” he asked and his fingers slowly loosened from her hair and pet her curls back into place before drawing his fingers slowly down her jaw and along her hammering pulse in her throat. “Do you not understand how badly I crave you? Because I thought that I made it abundantly clear.”

She blushed and shook her head. His thumb stroked along the front of her throat and she stilled, the weight and warmth of his hand making her tremble, the ache in her breasts taking her aback. “Sometimes, maybe. I’ve felt very…” She tried to find the words amidst her shyness. “I’ve felt like I’ve been chasing you, that I desire you more than you do for me.”

The wicked smirk she adored cut across his plump mouth and he squeezed her throat gently, pulling a gasp from her. “Abrogail Strong, I desire and crave you to madness and if I let myself go, I fear that I won’t keep myself from devouring you whole.”

Helaena pretended not to notice that there was a smudge of what looked like strawberry jam on the corner of little Floris’ mouth. Instead, her eyes took in the way one of the girl’s black braids was a little looser than the other. It lacked symmetry in a way that made her fingers itch to fix it. The girl’s dark eyes were wide with excitement and she could hardly keep still - a grasshopper bouncing on her feet and trying as hard as she could to contain herself in their presence. It did little to stop her from darting her gaze around, little mouth parted in wonder. She supposed the Red Keep was a magnificent sight to one who’d never seen it up close like this, let alone on dragonback.

Helaena’s lavender eyes slid to the elder girl.

Cassandra, the eldest of Lord Borros’ daughters, was more sedate in her observations. She did not share the same bubbling excitement as her little sister, and the black traveling gown she wore underscored the radical differences between her and the butter yellow clad Floris. Despite outer appearances, there was a blatant curiosity in her gaze as she took in the bustle of the courtyard; the Baratheon caravan had arrived ahead of the ladies, and the last of the trunks had just been carried inside to their new lodgings. Now it was courtiers and guardsmen, and servants all.

She felt Cassandra’s eyes fall on her critically, not unlike other ladies at court. Helaena had grown used to their gazes and the fact she did not fit the mold of a princess. She was not vibrant the way stories of her elder sister painted her - The Realm’s Delight, laughing and shining and riding and dancing. Helaena was quiet, far preferring the solitude of the garden to being in crowds, but she made every effort to be nice, to be friendly, and while she’d never heard a whisper about some perceived cruelty, Helaena felt as if she couldn’t quite get it.

She could not mirror the way Cassandra Baratheon looked to her, a golden necklace made up of antlers around her regal throat - a look that even a good week in a carriage could not take away how utterly put together she appeared..

How much of a princess she looked.

‘Sharp and soothing,’ Helaena thought. ‘The mint winds and chokes like ivy. The children can’t breathe, it’s bursting from their mouths.’

She blinked, shifting, and her shoulder brushed against Aemond’s where he was a warm presence beside her. His mouth was pressed in his usual stern expression, but at her movement, he lifted a hand to touch between her shoulder blades.

It was moments like these where Helaena felt most grateful for Aemond. Not when he was railing about their future together, the one that he’d decided and she didn’t deny, or about his place in life. It was the softer moments, when it felt like before: before the loss of his eye, before Vhagar, when it felt like her brother was there beside her once more. Quiet in his companionship, unwavering in his support, near supernatural in his understanding of her.

This was the Aemond she missed. The Aemond she cared for, the Aemond who was so absent.

Emboldened by the moment, Helaena straightened, a smile soft on her face. She did not need a crown or a herald to announce her place.

“It is our pleasure to welcome you both to King’s Landing. I hope that your journey wasn’t too difficult,” Helaena said, pushing past the urge to scream nonsense and make scary faces at them both to send them running all the way back to Storm’s End.

“We saw a bear!” Floris exclaimed with bright excitement. “Didn’t we, Cass? It was huge! I thought the guards were going to kill it, but they managed to chase it -”

“What my sister means to say is that the journey had its moments, but thankfully was uneventful, your Graces,” Cassandra cut in, a hand placed on the younger’s shoulder and a smooth curtsy performed. Her voice wasn’t unkind, but perhaps the long journey had made Lady Cassandra less tolerable to her younger sister’s excitement.

“Hmmm,” Aemond said, and Helaena smiled. Floris’ gaze was darting back from Aemond’s face to Helaena’s hands and she felt her brother shift beside her uncomfortably. “If you’ll follow us, we’ll take you to her grace, Queen Alicent, to be greeted.” Floris’ eyes went wide and Aemond was already turning on his polished boot to lead the way.

Cassandra’s own eyes widened some, her hands spasming against her skirts before reaching for Floris’ hand, jerking her behind. “Come along and don’t gawk,” she hissed softly, and Floris whined in response, a grumbling, “Not so tight, Cassa.” Helaena pursed her lips and followed Aemond, leading the pair.

It was, amusingly enough, Cassandra who let out the first quiet gasp entering the entry hall to Maegor’s Holdfast. The ceiling rose up so high that it was obscured with shadow. It was the early afternoon and the place was bustling with courtiers and administrators, all giving Aemond wide berth as he cut a path like a shark through the water.

“Your rooms will be within the ladies apartments,” Aemond explained when they reached the second landing. He paused, gesturing to the right. “It’s where the unmarried attendants of our mother’s stay.” His voice was even and steady, ever the proper one, ever the confident speaker. Ever everything, that was Aemond. Yet it rankled her that he would take charge of this when it should be her.

‘He’s only trying to protect you’, Helaena thought and while he was good at that, while she was grateful for it, Mother did the same. Everyone did the same.

“However, since you shall be serving me,” Helaena said, raising her voice and plastering a smile on her face, remembering that smiles could be heard in voices, “And Lady Abrogail, you shall come to us in the mornings for duties once things are settled. No need to worry about that now.”

Floris nodded excitedly, but her sister looked on more sedately, her expression polite. “Is it possible to have our own rooms until you… have everything sorted?” She asked. “I hope you can appreciate that given our station and our familial connection, such things would be appropriate.”

Familial connection? Helaena thought. She did not look at Aemond, not needing him to think he had to step in for her.

“I appreciate your concerns, Lady Cassandra. If you are concerned about your sleeping arrangements, you may bring it up with our mother, the Queen.” Helaena smoothed her hands over the soft pink of her skirt and gestured for them to follow. “This way!” Her voice rang through the hall and she fell in step beside Aemond, head held high.

Wylla stepped on her heels again with a half-distracted ‘sorry’ that Abby waved off, again. King’s Landing was bursting with activity that threatened to rival the crowds that were sure to arrive in the next moon for Aegon’s nameday tournament. The festival was to go on for a fortnight at least, as apprentices across the guilds presented their masterpieces to be judged and reviewed. It meant that the stalls were filled to bursting and more had sprung up in every nook and cranny and side street of the city. From finely woven fabrics and dyes, to ropes and carefully crafted saddles, the market was bright and loud with the calls of commerce.

Aegon’s right hand gripped her left, fingers entwined, and kept her between him and the stalls rather than risk losing one another in the stream of traffic down the center lane. They paused in front of a smith, the heat of the forge not as uncomfortable in the heat of the city for the breeze that kicked through.

“Oh, he’s a handsome one,” Wylla murmured, and Abby followed her gaze to the handsome smith covered in sweat and black soot, his linen shirt soaked, his arms bulging with the effort of hammering. Abby giggled softly, humming in agreement. She glanced at Aegon, who was perusing over the line of daggers on display, and noticed his own gaze flicking towards the blacksmith with clear appreciation.

Abby hummed and leaned over to brush her mouth against his ear. “Do you think he’s prettier than me?” she whispered.

Aegon didn’t glance at her, he didn’t even pause in his dual inspection of the merchandise nor the man before him. His tongue darted out, pink and wet, to slide along his lower lip in thought as he reached for another dagger. “I think he’s taller than you, which has its own advantages, especially with those shoulders,” he told her softly, tapping the hilt of the dagger. “Open, I want to see if it fits you.” She held out her free hand - she still hadn’t let go of his and he had not let go of hers - and he pressed the dagger into her palm, instructing her to wrap her fingers around it. “Sometimes one needs a good handling.”

Abby’s gaze flicked up at him, Aegon’s lilac eyes fixed on adjusting her grip. “I don’t usually hold a dagger like this. Aemond did teach me properly. Also, are you implying that I couldn’t give you a good handling?”

“I don’t think you are big enough to pick me up over your shoulder and slam me down on something.” Aegon’s lilac gaze met hers from beneath the soft bits of silver hair hanging in his eyes and he pulled the dagger from her grasp and set it back down. Even as she blushed, Abby didn’t look away. She smiled prettily at him instead and was pleased when he grinned back. She liked this side of him. No, she adored this side of him. The way he flirted, and held onto her, and the way it felt as easy as breathing between them like it always had. Only now, her gaze was more obviously drawn to that infernal tongue of his that kept swiping along his lower lip.

He was doing it on purpose. She was sure of it.

“I feel like you’re challenging me, Your Grace. Must I also now throw myself in the training yard and hope that I grow as big and strong as my brother? I think you’ll be sorely disappointed.” Aegon snorted and picked up another dagger. This one had an ebony handle carved with grooves for the fingers to fit and a thick silver inlay that encircled it and along the guard. “I don’t need a dagger,” she protested when he had her hold it and frowned at the fit.

“You see,” he murmured, releasing his hold on her hand and having her properly adjust her grip. “I already know you can handle me, my Lady. I think you’re a natural at it, even small as you are. But if you’d like to be handled, be exposed to new ways of doing things…new techniques…” He trailed off and made an approving sound at how she was holding the weapon. Somehow it made her flush all the more. “I’m at your service to give you whatever demonstration you desire.”

He met her eyes then, mouth twitched in a slight grin, but she saw the nervous look in his gaze.

Abby pushed up on her toes to press a kiss on his smirking mouth and drew away before either of them had a chance to deepen it. “I’ve been told I’m a very astute learner, and I always like to learn new things, especially with demonstrations.” Flushed, she reached for Wylla who was still admiring the blacksmith and took her hand. “We’re going to look at the fabrics over here.”

She’d much rather they do that than make a scene in front of the attractive blacksmith.

“If you two wanted privacy, then we’ll find it. I’ll stand guard outside the carriage door. Or, he’s the prince, I’m sure he can just get a room somewhere.” Wylla’s look was innocent and compassionate when Abby looked over her shoulder to glare at her, cheeks flushed red. “You know, people like us don’t marry for love often, but if you have that with one another, there’s no shame in being so affectionate before marriage.” Wylla nudged her shoulder against hers while they plucked at the delicate spools of ribbons and carefully embroidered lace.

“Being accosted in front of the blacksmith is something I’d hardly call simple affection,” Abby said.

“Weren’t you only just complaining that he didn’t accost you?”

“I need to find another word for that, and yes, I know I was! That’s not what I mean.” Abby ran a length of silky, vibrant green ribbon through her fingers, and tried to find shades of red and blue to match. “I just mean there’s a difference between doing it in public! And…”

“And?” Wylla prompted, plucking up a spool of black linen thread in hand.

“And I simply get very flustered. That’s all.” She reached into her the small purse hanging off her arm to retrieve the delicate fabric samples the seamstress had brought the previous week. “I need embellishments to go with this.”

“Oh,” Wylla breathed and ran her fingers gently over the ivory satin. “Abby, these are lovely.”

“Do you think so?” She held the pieces up to the spools of lace. “I’m half tempted to simply make my own lace but that feels so extravagant and excessive.”

Wylla clucked her tongue. “Must I remind you again, Lady Strong, that you are marrying Aegon Targaryen, Prince of the Realm? You will become a princess on your wedding day. You should have extravagance and excess because if you don’t have it for that occasion, what occasion will you allow it?” Her voice was not quiet and Abby noticed the pair of girls managing the stall perk up from where they were attending to another lady and her daughter at the mention of marrying Aegon Targaryen. The other customers looked at her as well, and Abby smiled politely back and resumed her perusal of the lace embellishments. She let her veil fall forward enough to hide some of her face, uncomfortable with the attention now that Aegon was not distracting her, moving easily through the crowds as if he were born for it.

That’s because he was born for it, she reminded herself.

“These look a bit like dragon scales, don’t they?” Abby ran her thumb gently over the uniquely shaped scallops of soft lace, mind thinking of decorations and embellishments and appliques for the gown that they were making. So many Myrish knots to embroider. She knew there was more fabric on its way, and that the delicate and sought after Myrish lace would be beyond comparison but presented with what was before her, Abby’s mind turned in contemplation. “Excuse me, my lady.”

The woman did not appear much older than Wylla, with a shock of golden curls peeking out of her little white cap. She was the younger of the pair who were manning the booth, and she bobbed awkwardly behind the counter.

“I am no lady, milady,” she said, her accent a proud, Westerlands clip. “Neva, if you please. Is there anything that you like before you? This isn’t everything we have but-”

Abby smiled, raising a hand to slow the girl down. “Neva, is this all your work? It’s absolutely beautiful.”

She glowed as bright as her hair, nodding exuberantly. “It is, milady! I’ve been an apprentice for nigh on ten years. I’ve submitted my masterpiece for guild acceptance.”

She couldn’t help but keep smiling back at the excitement Neva shared and gestured for the threads that Wylla was picking up. “Well, I’ll take these, if you’d be so kind, as well as… well I don’t want to take the whole spool of this.” Abby pursed her lips.

In the pause, Neva continued. “I can also make custom pieces, should you need something particular, milady.” The girl blushed but pushed on. “I did hear you mentioning a wedding, but I wasn’t dropping eaves! So if there is something in particular you’re looking for.”

Abby hummed softly, fingers still holding the delicate spool of scalloped lace edging. “I would like that very much. If you have more samples, I want you to bring them to the castle a sennight from today. The seamstress is coming back to do a fitting and I would like to look at what we can make. Is that too soon?”

The blushing cheeks of the Westerland girl went pale before flushing even deeper and she looked as if she was about to burst like a Dornish fire flare right there in the street. “Milady, I don’t know what to say! Yes, yes I will certainly be there. Thank you…” She trailed off suddenly, eyes widening before dropping into a curtsy, followed by the other women behind the booth. Abby felt Aegon brush against her back as he leaned over her shoulder to pluck at the lace.

“Pretty,” he said. “Do you like them?”

She nodded. “I thought the-they would look nice for my wedding dress. Do you like them? I want you to like them.” Abby tilted her head to look at him, teeth catching at her lip while Aegon’s cheeks flushed lightly pink.

“Aye, I like them.” His voice was soft and he gestured to the lot, almost negligently. “And the ribbons? We’ll take it.” Aegon spared a look at the gaping Neva, plucking the bag of gold from Wylla’s hands and tossing it to the girl.

Abby blushed, glancing between the gaping girls and Aegon, who was already looking around. “Thank you, Neva,” she said, which seemed to pull the other girl from her shock and start plucking items. “I do hope this isn’t all of your hard work.”

“Oh, no, not at all, milady.” She was positively glowing. “Good fortune to be sure."

[Chapter Eight]

[cedar-sunshine]

soft intro for a new project!

As it says SOFT intro. all of this stuff is subject to change, I'd LOVE ur opinion on it!

No name for it currently, but it's about a group of criminals arrested for crimes against the government being sent on an Australia type mission in a sci-fi space setting- around 100 of them, with consent, are sent into a 'sleep' (possibly through the freezing thing but yk whatever. It's futuristic who cares, I'll figure it out later) and set to go on a 150-year-long journey to a superhabitable planet that's being considered for a human colony (it has a breathable atmosphere and a relatively young star). Unfortunately, humanity (along with a couple other species from near us in the galaxy) figures out a faster method of space travel about 20 years after the journey starts, and the Australia type mission is forgotten about. 32 years before their mission should have landed on the colony, something goes wrong with the ship and the AI is forced to make an emergency crash landing on a nearby habitable planet. Only nine (<- in the works) people survive the crash, and those are our main characters!

Its found family/sci fi/survival stuff, I'm very fond of most of the characters and the general aesthetic.

The main characters so far are:

Carbon (he/they)

The leader of an anti-government group that led attacks on infrastructure and weapons storage units, etc. He's the oldest at 32 (younger is safer for the 'sleep' process), mostly human, and kind of ends up as a begrudging father/older brother to all the college-aged kids they decided to put on this mission. He's easily the most responsible in the group due to his old job, but he can be cold and impersonal, or too controlling. He has a prosthetic leg (from just above the knee) and hand, both amputated from diabetes. He doesn't sleep with them on, but he uses them for more intricate things and to maim people with if necessary.

Altar (he/she)

Half human, half squid guy, brightly colored pilot. She murdered a handful of corrupt government officials with help. He has tendrils in place of hair, which are a little thicker than your average air strand, have nerves, and have a bit of motion (not prehensile, but they get tense and sort of hover a little when he's stressed). Adhd as hell, high energy and fun. She doesn't really take much seriously, which can be annoying to work with. Second youngest at 17. They use forearm crutches.

Palace/Lace (any)

Synthetic (robot basically) with their intelligence in a small 'skull' that controls a large mass of tiny metal orbs to act as their body. He can manipulate both shape and color at will, and prefers to have a smooth form with rose, white and gold coloring. Pretty self centered and arrogant, but honest and uplifting. She's definitely sure that she's better at everything than everyone, but that doesn't mean they're not good! Or at least okay, compared to him. Smuggler. I think they're 20.

Olive (they/them)

Human engineer/mechanic who, on earth, would go on tours of government buildings and inspect them for a few days before figuring out how they worked and sending the blueprints to groups which would destroy them. They don't talk much, preferring to think thoroughly, but they often forget that they're supposed to talk after thinking and just start doing things without saying what they're doing. They're autistic and 19, and chronically covered in oil stains.

Lazuli/Laz (she/her)

Half plant person, half human. Mostly made up of different microplants. Photosynthesizes. Diplomat (officially) and hacker (why she got arrested). She can't speak (no vocal cords or mouth, she just needs sun and water) but she can process vibrations into speech. She uses sign language and teaches it to those in the group who don't know so they can communicate with Hermes. Calm, rational, and likes being in control of all situations. She's the youngest in the group at 16 and finds it very hard to admit that she's not ready to take on both surviving on an unknown planet and acting like an adult.

Hermes (he/him)

Transmasc deaf space pirate. Due to some bullshit ableism in the system and a lot of miscommunication and purposeful lack of accurate translation for him, he was put on the mission without consent and is dealing with a lot of grief for the beginning of the story, which affects a lot of people's veiw of him. He's quiet and warm, and prefers to sit in silence without talking and just experience others being around him than engage in conversation. 18.

Halcyon/Halcey (he/him)

Biologist and bioengineer, very excited about plants. He specializes in xenobiology (understanding how newly discovered plants that aren't from earth or other well known and populated plants work) and genetic engineering of plants. He made bioweapons (which is decently clear by now I hope). He's sort of silly, like if a Pokémon professor was 24 and mostly an alien. He's very sweet and just. So hyper about plants and biology.

Civet (she/they)

Half human, half 'ferox' (basically a fossa or civet type humanoid) with more ferox traits. Long term government plant and spy. Hot headed, fun and protective of the younger kids (she's 21). She's fully prepared to become a problem at any provocation and is probably one of the people who starts the most fights in the group. She's very sweet to the kids, though. She's basically their older sister.

Bardiche/Bard (they/any)

Mostly synthetic/mecha person (human base), they've got RAD legs (like if T Rex legs were muscley and agile and also have big cool talon feet) and a prehensile tail with a polearm tip (due to weird nerve stuff with synthetic parts, they can't feel it and need to grab it in their hand to stab people). She also has big forearms with armor plates and some spikes (same with their legs) and claws, plus cool horns. They're very sweet and gentle and really insecure (not abt the synthetic parts he KNOWS he's rad) and they're a former mercenary/assassin (that's why they got the murder mods). They're great and I love them. They're like 7 feet tall or something, their jump height is insane.

lmk if you want to hear more about this!