#politics are a game and ice hates to lose

[pollyna]

Ice's jar of favours contains all the names of people who own him, but after a while, it starts containing pendrives, too. Generally small, in plain colours to not be noticed and protected by three different kinds of passwords. Only Ice knows them because they aren't written anywhere else if not in his memory.

Mav never asks what is in them, and Ice doesn't offer, but his secretary knows, and there's always a strange air around the office when one of them gets to be unlocked but Mav always walks around, after the Admiral makes the call.

What scares everybody is how many of them are in the jar. In the thirty years, Admiral Kazansky's is playing Maverick's guardian angel, the jar it hasn't been once more than half empty.

(The day Mav retires, and Ice follows, the jar comes with them, in their home and on Ice's desk. He doesn't need them now, but he knows how to share them with the people he most trusts, in the right moment.)

[malk1ns]

Most definitely talking about Sid's upcoming heat and Sid's yapping that he doesn't need any help but Geno knows he will get a call the first night of a whimpering and desperate Sid

👀

"Stop scenting me," Sid snaps the second Zhenya sits down.

Zhenya rolls his eyes. He hasn't even caught his breath from his last shift. Fuck this altitude, and honestly, fuck the Avs too, Sid's cozy little friendship with MacKinnon be damned.

"I'm serious," Sid continues, scooting down the bench to make room for Rusty, who practically dives over the boards to avoid a too many men. Zhenya obediently scoots along with him, grabbing Rusty around the waist to keep him steady.

"Thanks," Rusty wheezes, and Zhenya pats his shoulder before turning back to Sid.

Sid's glaring at him. He hates being ignored under normal circumstances, and it only gets worse when he's careening towards heat—a fact that Sid is strenuously denying.

"Sorry," Zhenya says, making his eyes big and ducking his head. "Smell good, Sid, can't help it."

Sid's eyes narrow. After so many years, he's wise to Zhenya's tricks, and he's apparently not far enough into pre-heat to fall for them anyway. Zhenya adjusts his mental calculations forward a day. "I don't know what you think you're smelling, but it's not me. I'm not due for another two weeks, and we talked about this. I don't need you this time."

"Okay," Zhenya says placidly, tapping Sid's knee. Sid's cute when he gets all worked up and indignant like this.

"Hey—" Sid sputters, probably picking up Zhenya's amusement, but then coach is tapping his line in, so Sid can't do anything but glare as he swings over the boards.

Zhenya watches as he swings a big arc towards the goal, changing direction so abruptly that the d-man shadowing him loses an edge and hits the ice. Sid turns to snap at the guy, and Zhenya readjusts his math again, this time back a few hours.

Pissing Sid off always makes things move faster.

-

They drop the game in OT, but that's okay. They played well, better than they have since the trade deadline, and the shock of losing Jake is finally starting to wear off. Sid doesn't look hollowed-out whenever he looks to his left any more, and Bunting is the exact type of yappy, determined presence on Zhenya's wing that he's always played best with. The postseason is still a reach, but suddenly the games they're playing seem like they mean something again, and that's all Zhenya wants, really.

Playoffs are nice, but Zhenya's old enough now that he doesn't live and die by each individual season anymore. If he can keep his production up for a few more years, avoid major injury and quiet the people who constantly call for him to be traded, he'll be happy.

Well. That, and getting Sid to finally admit that what they've been doing for nearly two decades now isn't just friends helping each other out. But Zhenya can be patient on that front.

Seeing Jake in Carolina colors is hard, and Zhenya discreetly wipes his eyes during the tribute video. Sid doesn't bother, staring up at the enormous new jumbotron with shiny eyes. The win makes it easier to stomach, though, and Jake stops by the locker room after the game, lingering well past when the Hurricanes' bus must have left for the hotel.

He and Sid talk for a long, long time, tucked away in a hallway while Rusty and Zhenya linger, ready to head off any media that comes this direction. They're left alone, though, and when Jake finally slips past them, he's knuckling at his eyes. Zhenya politely doesn't mention it when he pulls Jake into one last hug.

Sid's marching for the parking lot, and Zhenya has to hustle to catch up with him. When he draws even, he practically trips over his feet—Sid smells ripe, fertile and alluring, like he's minutes from dropping into heat. Surely he feels it by now.

Sid slides him a sharp glare. "Don't fucking start," he mutters, angling away when Zhenya leans towards him. "You were right, okay? But it doesn't mean anything."

Zhenya takes a deep inhale and consciously steps to the side, giving Sid his space. "Call if you need," is all he says, cutting towards his car and speeding up before he can give into the impulse to manhandle Sid back to his house and his bed and keep him there.

"I won't!" Sid calls across the garage. Zhenya shakes his head.

-

It doesn't always go this way. Sometimes Sid invites him back, sends him texts like i think it's starting soon and would you mind...? as if any alpha in their right mind would turn Sidney Crosby in heat down. He gets squirrelly when it happens too many times in a row, though, acts like Zhenya's going to hold him down and bite his claim into Sid's neck without permission, and tries to put distance between them.

It never lasts, though.

Zhenya's in his pajamas and glasses, settling in with his Kindle, when his phone rings.

"G," Sid whimpers over the line, and Zhenya sits upright, the sound of a distressed omega plucking at his instincts even at a distance. "G, where are you?"

Zhenya fists his hand in his duvet. "You say you don't want," he says carefully, listening to Sid's gasps, wondering if he'd managed to get something from his toybox or if he fell into it so fast that he's using his hand. Sid doesn't take care of himself like Zhenya would if they were mated, and he's come over more than once to Sid on his belly and whimpering because his own fingers don't get him right.

That's what Zhenya's always been for.

"I didn't mean it," Sid whines, voice muffled. "G, I need you."

Zhenya pulls the phone away from his ear and looks at the screen. Not even ten, and they have an off-day tomorrow. "Sid, you say I stay home this time," he says, but he's throwing his blanket back and getting up. "You change mind?"

"I was lying," Sid moans, frustration edging into his voice. "I was...G, please, you..."

He's falling deeper into it now. Zhenya hesitates; Sid had sounded so sure, more than usual, but...

"Geno," Sid says, practically a sob, and the decision is made. There's only so much his own instincts will allow him to ignore, and Sid calls him every time—if he didn't want Zhenya coming over, he shouldn't be calling.

It takes Zhenya a few tries to remember Sid's new door code, but when he steps inside, the smell of Sid's heat practically bowls him over. Zhenya has to stop and breathe, adjust to the overpowering sugar-and-marine salt permeating the air, before he can walk without stumbling to Sid's bedroom.

"Oh, Sid," he says, pausing at the doorway.

"Please," Sid begs. He hadn't gotten to his toys after all, and he's practically twisted in a pretzel, two fingers stuffed inside himself while his other hand strips his dick. He's come once already by the mess on his stomach, but his dick is so hard it's purple, and his face is twisted in agony, not pleasure.

"Shh," Zhenya croons, voice dropping to alpha-register all on its own. He's across the room and stripping his clothes off before he's even registered it, but when he gets hands on Sid's torso Sid takes in a deep, shuddering breath and relaxes.

"G," he mumbles, looking up at Zhenya through tear-damp eyelashes. "You left me."

"I'm sorry," Zhenya murmurs, gentling Sid onto his back, pushing at his shoulder until his hand slides free. His fingers are shiny with his own slick, and Zhenya pauses to suck them clean, eyelids fluttering at the taste. Sid watches him, chest heaving, and when Zhenya lets Sid's fingers drop from his mouth, Sid trails them down Zhenya's face and chest, resting his hand over Zhenya's heart. "I'm here now," Zhenya says, leaning down to kiss Sid. "I'll take care of you."

"Yes," Sid sighs as Zhenya slides into him, letting his legs butterfly out and his head loll to one side.

Zhenya stares at Sid's neck, exposed and there, and practically bites through his lip, fucking Sid harder. He wants to bite Sid so, so badly, has for years, but Sid always pulls back just when they're on the precipice of turning this into something more, always ices Zhenya out when it starts to feel too serious, and Zhenya's not going to push—it has to be Sid's decision.

Something of what he's feeling must be leaking through, because Sid opens his eyes and looks at him. His eyes are blurry; he's deep in it now, and every exhale is a half-purr as Zhenya's knot starts to grow and catch at him with every thrust. "Mmmm," he moans, the perfect picture of an omega submitting to his alpha, but the way he tilts his head to expose his neck is all purposeful, as is the way he coyly looks at Zhenya.

"Sid," Zhenya groans, grinding his teeth. He can't stop himself from dropping to his forearms and getting his nose into the crook of Sid's neck, licking frantically over Sid's scent glands. The smell of them blooms in the room, heady and intoxicating, and Zhenya's thrusts go ragged and desperate as his knot swells. "Sid, please." He feels drunk, he doesn't even know what he's asking for, opening his mouth around the meaty muscle where Sid's neck meets his shoulder.

Sid's hand is at the back of his head, but he's pushing, not pulling Zhenya back, and Zhenya's teeth dig into Sid's skin. His "bite me" is barely audible, but it's the loudest thing Zhenya's ever heard, echoing over the roaring of blood in his ears and their breath.

He bites. The world falls away.

-

When Zhenya swims back to consciousness, his knot still hasn't gone down. Somehow, Sid had managed to get them on their sides, and he's petting over Zhenya's sweaty back, nuzzled up against Zhenya's chest and humming.

"Sid?" Zhenya croaks, eyes flying open when he remembers. "Oh, fuck, Sid, I—"

"Shh, it's okay." It's Sid's turn to soothe Zhenya, purring until Zhenya's heart slows down. Zhenya's nostrils flare as he inhales, and all he can smell is happy, contented omega.

"We..." Zhenya's floundering, head spinning as he tries to put the pieces together.

"I asked you to do it, bud," Sid says. He sounds quiet, but sure. "I wanted it. I was..." He sighs, and Zhenya can feel him shrug. "We can talk about it later, but...I was talking to Jake, and he said, you know, we're lucky—it doesn't matter what happens, because in the end we always have each other. And then I got home, and I was thinking about how he's right. You've had plenty of chances to leave, and you never did. And you always come when I need you. So...it felt stupid, to be pushing you away still."

"Sid," Zhenya groans, half infuriated and half overcome with fondness. If they weren't still knotted together he'd pin Sid down and bite at his sensitive, ticklish stomach as punishment until Sid was laughing and kicking him away. "You say to me when you think these things, like, don't make me come run over so late, scare me like I do what you don't want."

Sid shrugs again, and now he smells smug. "You always come when I call," he says, and Zhenya can't even argue that point.

He wouldn't want to, anyway.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading update: January 2024

as long as I'm talking about The Gargoyle's Captive, let's discuss what else I've been reading this month.

Maeve Fly (CJ Leede, 2023) - I really liked this slender debut novel, which follows the titular Maeve Fly as she prowls LA like a homicidal alien, playing an unnamed ice princess in a certain theme park by day and indulging her murderous tendencies by night. Maeve is in a downward spiral; she's 27 years old and is preparing to lose her grandmother to illness and her only friend to a blossoming acting career. she sees no future for herself beyond losing the only two people she cares about and has no further goals, contenting herself with alcohol and porn while she rereads the same books, rewatches the same videos, and listens over and over to her playlist of Halloween music. Maeve is, it must be said, an abysmal loser, and I like her terrible melodrama a lot. I do think some of the hype is perhaps overstating the feminist credentials of this book; it sort of reminds me of when a college friend told me their favorite feminist movie was Suicide Squad (2016) because Harley Quinn was in it. Maeve talks a lot of big game about how women are always expected to have some tragedy to be deranged serial killers, while men are allowed to just do it, but it hit me as a little tryhard. there are a lot of books trying to be "the female American Psycho" right now - Eliza Clark's 2020 novel Boy Parts is frequently described as such - but it feels a bit too on the nose when Maeve's ultimate climactic rampage is directly inspired by a glimpse of the American Psycho novel. it's not that deep, but it is a gross, captivating read told from a fascinatingly cracked POV. check out Maeve Fly.

Laziness Does Not Exist (Devon Price, 2021) - yeah Devon Price is still following me (though my days are numbered, I'm sure) so it's a massive relief to say that I did like this book. Price has sort of become my self-help ride or die, mainly because a.) he's so much more self-aware than the average self-help writer that it feels kind of insulting to call him one and b.) he's actually dealing with topics that are relevant or interesting and providing actionable advice. while LDNE didn't engross me quite as hard as Unmasking Autism (while I am, famously, not autistic, I do believe in their beliefs, by which I mean I'm the token allistic among my close friends and I vastly prefer autistic company) it hit me hard in several unexpected pressure points. I'll happily admit that I can't relate to Price's interviewees who willingly work 50+ hours a week for jobs that hate them and are destroying their minds and bodies, but I still struggle to escape the perpetual sensation that a moment at rest is a moment wasted. It probably didn't help that I was reading this book while on vacation at my mother's, where I visited the beach almost daily and was so work-averse that we didn't even bother going grocery shopping because I didn't want to cook. and yet, despite getting dummy chill in some aspects of my life, I am still constantly possessed by a malevolent ghost insisting that I'm wasting my time and have never actually done Enough. maybe Price's next book, Unlearning Shame, will finally fix me; it's out in four days and god knows I'll be getting my hands on it as soon as humanly possible.

Patternmaster (Octavia E. Butler, 1976) - y'all know I love a messy political fantasy, and this is just... god, the absolute messiest. I thought Mind of My Mind was bad, but it turns out Mary's descendants are going to full-on reinvent feudalism with psychic powers, treating non-psychics as chattel and causing technological advancement to regress since they refuse to handle their problems with anything but psychic powers. and it's even got two brothers duking it out for the throne that will give them power over every bitchy psychic on earth! you love to see it. if I can be 100% honest I do think it's straight up bananagrams that this was the first book released in the series even though it's chronologically last; I genuinely cannot imagine caring enough to figure out what the fuck these people were talking about if I didn't have the previous four books for context. and even "context" may be generous; Octavia still has absolutely 0 interest in explaining what's up with the fucking outer space werewolves who are the psychics' #1 enemy. if I could have brunch with any person living or dead I would summon Butler up in a heartbeat to explain what the fuck her thought process was in plotting out this series over some mimosas, and I would take extensive notes on every word she said. an absolute genius and the uncontested queen of freak shit forever.

Thirsty Mermaids (Kat Leyh, 2021) - I purchased this graphic novel in November 2023 at a conference where I bumped into Queer Comics Peddler, my very favorite queer midwestern pop-up. running into them is always a delight, and this time I came with a question: could they give me a recommendation? the very nice people working offered up Thirsty Mermaids, which was the PERFECT companion for a long airplane ride. it's cute without being overly sappy, and avoids the trap of sacrificing a plot for the sake of checking off as many representation boxes as possible. the story is simple: three mermaids use a spell to turn into humans and go ashore in search of booze, only to realize in the morning that they don't know how to turn back. taken in by a generous bartender, they're faced with the reality of having to make money for the first time in their lives. hijinks ensue, but also a very sweet and warmhearted story about the friends looking out for one another as they try to figure out exactly where they belong and what home even means. also the artwork is GORGEOUS, with the mermaids' extremely memorable character designs being a real standout. if you're a graphic novel enthusiast, definitely check this out 🧜‍♀️

Sugar, Baby (Celine Saintclare, 2023) - Sugar, Baby came to me in a very similar way as Thirsty Mermaids: while visiting a witchy little bookstore that I was immediately charmed by, I asked the cashier what they would recommend. they offered up Maeve Fly (fab) and this novel, a stack of which was on the counter advertising an upcoming event with the author. neither have disappointed, so shout out to that one employee with the great taste! Sugar, Baby sees a young cleaner named Agnes, one of the only biracial women in her unnamed English town, befriending the daughter of a wealthy client and getting whisked away to her new friend's London lifestyle: crashing in an apartment with fellow models, staying out all night to party, and making money by going on dates with extravagantly wealthy older men. Agnes starts out having a swell time, but the cracks pretty swiftly start to form as she realizes how much more dependent she is on these men than her wealthy new friends and she begins to wonder exactly how much she's willing to diminish herself to get the bag. it's not a perfect first novel but it is a compelling one, a perfect airplane page-turner that crashes from glitzy to ghoulish and back with breakneck speed.

The Gargoyle's Captive (Katee Robert, 2023) - my full review is over on patreon for my darling supporters who want me dead (and picked this book in the first place, damn them to hell), but suffice to say this is a fun book to read if you like the sensation of your brain melting out of your nose, if you're really turned on by baby's first bdsm, you are not particularly concerned with trifling matters like "plot coherence" or "character motivation" or "writing that is complex and artful," and/or you've ever wanted to have sex with a dude whose penis is so big that you feel genuinely fear. also, hey, I forgot to include this in my patreon write-up so fuck it: Robert REFUSES to tell us what kind of food the protagonists are eating, ever. whenever they have a meal it's just "the food was placed on the table" "I took a bite" etc. drop me a HINT, man, come on! is it a protein? grain? starches? the only thing I know for sure that they're consuming is wine and a single marshmallow, and god does it show. it's just a very weird and distracting omission and it's absolutely not the worst thing about this book but it is a hill I'm willing to die complaining on.

[the-ellia-west]

For the ask game, how about ❌📙⭐️💚💤 for whatever character you’d like? :)

(I also hope this isn’t too many items to ask about… lol)

Thanks for the asks @artsandstoriesandstuff (You're good, I love doing big asks >:})

❌ What kind of things would end any relationship for them? Is there a history behind why these things bother them? Could they ever take someone back despite this? If so or if not, why?

📙 What kind of subjects (of conversation, of discussion, in school or whatever) does your OC find interesting or engaging or that they can talk for hours about? What kind of stuff do they just find fun?

⭐ What is your OC afraid of? Any crippling phobias or some such? How do they act when scared and what helps them calm down? Does anyone ever find your OC scary? Why?

💚 Talk about some of the traumatic events in your OC’s life. These events can be ones that have happened to them or a loved one. These events can be minor or major.

💤 What was your OC like as a baby, a child and as a teen? (if your OC is a teen or a child, what will they be like as an adult?). How have they changed since then? What lessons have they learned and what things about their youth do they miss the most? Do they have any general regrets?

OKAY JEEZ

Uhm... To Avoid too many spoilers, lets just go with our Villainous Shade Duo for this one.

The X

Viasaki draws the line at abuse. If you mistreat him he will fire back with just as much power unless he's already loyal to you. He was traumatized by what happened to his family and doesn't want to have that happen to him. He would only accept someone like this if they made it up to him in some way and he knows they'll never do it again.

Kila's only dealbreaker is someone being weak. Because everyone who is weak in her life has died or been taken from her. She would only take a weak person back, if she's convinced they are worth protecting or they prove themselves to not be weak.

Book

Viasaki can ramble about maps, politics, nature, and science forever. He's a little bookworm. He also loves card games, hunting, chatting with his soldiers, and flying. He could also talk about other people and nature forever.

Kila loves talking about mundane things like food, daily activities, stories, myths, and nature. She also loves card games and fighting, but she also loves flying and stargazing.

Star

Viasaki is afraid of ice. He hates the cold with every fiber of his being, just as much as loud noises, bugs, and being hit with just hands. He can take blades, but not blunt force trauma. He is deathly afraid of these things, and will curl himself into his wings to hide when he is afraid, freezing up and praying. Hot drinks or kind words help him calm down, hugs, blankets, stuff like that. Kasi and Sokuna think he's fucking terrifying. Sokuna fears him for his intelligence, and Kasi for how he can switch from kindhearted to psychotic in a second. Eventually after Kila and him become lightly trusting of one another, she's afraid his temper might snap and he might hit her.

Kila is deathly afraid of blunt force trauma just like Viasaki, as well as snakes, spiders, being restrained, the ocean, broken glass, slipping up, or anything with sharp teeth. Unlike Viasaki who freezes, Kila fights. She lashes out at anything she finds scary in an attempt to hurt it before it hurts her, unless its someone she sees as strong, whereas she will beg for mercy. Everyone other than the generals fear her because she's unpredictable, but she can't hurt the generals without being killed.

Heart

Viasaki losing his first soldier was a nightmare to him, as it was the first time he realized that the blood of everyone he's in charge of is on his hands. He's responsible. He's in charge, and it's his job to keep them alive.

Kila has never forgotten what happened that night. That night the monster escaped its binds and ate her mother. She never forgot the feeling of watching someone so powerful and capable of causing so much hurt being torn apart piece by piece. She never forgot watching someone she saw as perfect and kind beat the tortured monster over the head with a spiked club. She never forgot watching her innocent uncle almost kill a monster then fall to a trap as she ran.

(No I will not explain wtf this means yet - Enjoy your spoilers)

Zs

Viasaki was hopeful and optimistic as a baby and a young child, clinging close to his father as they were forced to hide, a hybrid and his father. As a teenager he was scared and on the run until he found a place among the shades. He regrets all the people he's killed and not being good enough to save the ones he didn't. He misses the naivete of being young.

Kila was a secluded and scared toddler, before becoming even more terrified and traumatized as a child. Her teen years were spent kicking and screaming, on the run and beaten bloody every other day. She regrets only leaving her uncle behind, and misses nothing other than him from her childhood.

-------------------------------------- Hey there! Hi! You! Tumblr user!

Are you a fan of epic fantasy? Want a story with romance, action, and sassy heroes and villains? How about some good old-fashioned ANGST?

If so, you're in luck! I've got just the series! Come check out TCOT!

Take a quick look at this post if you're interested

And keep an eye on my blog for updates!

---------------------------------------

[the-trinket-witch]

💬

(CW: themes of misgendering, psychological torture, Death of a parent, and Aadesh being an unfiltered bastard)

"It’s a bit funny, really. The face of the one he hates, who destroyed the loves of his life, watching him. Imitating him. Pretending to be him. Looking at him while they rip away every last piece of his wife he still sees in them."

Aadesh Had Enough. Enough games, of keeping the visage of the polite counselor, of having Albert and the Prefect snooping through his business. And now, he had enough fun breaking down the young man who'd snuck into his office. He had Albert, pinned close in his tail and unable to call for help with the scarf now curled tight around his throat. The Doctor's grin only further split his face inhumanly wide with each attempt to wriggle free. That ancestral prey-drive made his tail clamp tighter, as he further wrenched the young man's arm up where he couldn't shove him.

"Do you really want to know what Jon sees when he looks at you?"

Claws dug into Albert's scalp. Their hold kept him from looking anywhere else but at that Seven-awful kaleidoscope in the Doctor's eyes. Far too late to try screwing his eyes shut. The magic compelled him to keep looking. As the Silver Mist rolled in over his mind, The mental images came flooding in.

A small curly-haired child tugging excitedly at a man's coat sleeve. That same child, experimenting with hairstyles, thoughtlessly fracturing their wrist in an overzealous attempt in learning to fly by umbrella. A teenager, 'surprising' their father with what remained of their previously beautiful head of hair, now shaven down in some attempt to look masculine. To look like him. That same child, sent to Royal Sword only at the blessing of his wife. St Winnifred's would have been better. That child that was supposed to be his, now unrecognizable as they slouched over Maria's hospital bed. Eyebags; something Jon was familiar with in his own reflection, making it now so much more difficult to see his wife in the face of 'Albert'. "Go home, get some rest. She'll be fine." There was that teen claiming to be his son at the funeral, quietly weeping in a suit that didn't fit. Like every child first trying on their parent's clothes. Just another chip taken off the memory of what Jon use to have, what he worked himself to the bone for every day. Every visit becoming another reminder of what he was losing; every memory becoming a grain of sand in a sieve. And Albert, in Jon's eyes, was actively jostling it, to make more memories slip through his fingers.

It didn't matter to Aadesh he'd only dropped Albert to theta-wave levels of brain activity; his spell had done its job. The dream-induced panic twisting the young man's face was a show in itself. But the show had to end before his next appointment. The Doctor reclaimed his scarf and adjusted his glasses as his tail let the man crash limply to the carpet.

"Ssstay. Out. of my. Business," Aadesh warned, crouching low even as Albert shuddered to his hands and knees. Al's glasses had fallen off, but through a sheen of tears he could still make out the Councelor's form strut back out the door.

And in a horrifying little coincidink, I had been meaning to subject Albert to The Hypnotic Horrors for a bit, so here's a little bit of that doodled out as lighting practice.

Taglist: (lemme know if you want added or removed)

@ceruleancattail @squidwen @thecosmicjackalope @vaporvipermedia@writing-heiress

@oya-oya-okay @k-looking-glass-house@thehollowwriter@rainesol @cyn-write

@heartscrypt@honey-milk-depresso @br3adtoasty @jackiecronefield @ruggiethethuggie

@demonichikikomori @hoboyherewego @achy-boo @oreoskys@oseathepebble

@tunabesimpin @hamstergal @fumikomiyasaki@valse-a-mille-temps

@hallowed-delights @kimikitti @plutos-hell @thetwstwildcard @atwstedstory

@comingyourlugubriousness @ice-cweam-sod4 @twst-the-night-away @nammanarin

[ladytauria]

💖 and 🧠 from the ask game <33

💖 What do you like most about your own writing?

my writing voice! i used to hate re-reading my own writing but now i can do so comfortably, even when i pick up on mistakes i missed or things i would change <3

i'm also fairly proud of my imagery, lol. that was something i worked hard to develop, and while i DO forget to like... describe things still when im writing, when i do remember/go back to add that in i feel more confident in my results lol

🧠 What’s an idea you have that you can’t quite call a WIP yet?

i have SO MANY of these

okay. i counted up the ones i have fleshed out outlines for, since there's more to talk about, and then i rolled a die <3

so! it's a jaytim fic inspired by the lyric, "why do you make me want to leave the world behind?" from the song stardust by new politics. the rest of the song doesn't actually fit, & i'll probs end up not using that line as the title, lol.

my outline for it is almost more of a not-fic than an outline, so... i'll just paste that in here, ig. pls excuse my brackets <3

why do you make me want to leave the world behind?

Jason couldn’t tell you what the final straw was. Maybe it was the last argument he got into with Bruce. Maybe it was hearing Joker’s laugh, again, echoing through the streets of Gotham. Maybe it was the gunshot he took to the shoulder, a few weeks ago. It— The point is, it could have been any number of things. Whatever the final straw, one thing is clear: he can’t do this any more.

And it’s not that he wants to abandon Crime Alley, or his people, it’s just—

He’s tired. He’s been tearing himself apart for the mission since he was twelve. He died, even—only to come back and keep doing it. And now… He’s just… done. He wants to live, and he can’t do that when the mission controls his life. He needs out.

Thing is…

He can’t leave Tim.

Tim is… somewhere along the way, Tim has become his rock. They’ve moved in together. When Jason suits up, Tim is at his side. When Tim needs stitches, it’s Jason holding the needle. When Jason comes home, knuckles bruised and lip split, it’s Tim there with the ice pack. And when they’re finished tending each other’s wounds, large and small, they fall into bed together—sore but together.

Jason doesn’t want to give that up.

He knows Tim won’t leave Gotham. Knows that Tim views Robin/Red Robin as the most important thing he’s ever done, the thing that gives him purpose, makes him feel real. He can’t ask him to leave it. He can’t.

But he’s not sure he can stay, either.

It’s a big, tangled mess, and Jason is no closer to figuring out what to do when Tim approaches him one evening. He sits down with him, holding his tablet, looking like he’s got something on his mind. He doesn’t bother with much preamble.

“My parents bought a place in [idk, some nice coastal or country area] a long time ago. A small vacation home, I think. It was one of those things we didn’t lose when Dad went bankrupt. I think… It looks like a nice place to retire, don’t you think so?”

Jason can hardly believe what he’s hearing, even as he agrees with feeling. He has to pinch himself once or twice, as they start making plans. They’re as methodical about it as they are everything else, hashing out all the details. It doesn’t feel real; not even when they inform the others, not when they start packing. Not even when they finally make the move, or unpack, or settle into the house.

It’s not until the second morning that it starts to sink in. This is real. It’s happening.

They grow roots. Befriend the neighbors. Tim gets back into photography, dragging Jason out with him on long walks to capture the scenery. He gets a job, too, working on cars, and talks Jason into pursuing a degree, the way he always wanted.

They gets visits and calls from the bats, and their friends—some more than others—and they usually even remember to leave business out of it. It’s… everything Jason wanted, honestly—though it’s not always easy. There are still nightmares, restless nights, and times when neither of them can watch or read the news without the urge be out there. Especially when there’s a crisis.

The worst of it, though, is the itching, nagging feeling in Jason’s chest. The thing that tells him it’s too easy. Too simple. Eventually something has to break—and each nightmare, each restless night makes Jason more and more certain it’s going to be Tim. One day, he’s going to wake up and decide that a quiet life with Jason isn’t what he wants after all.

He’ll leave.

Jason keeps his worries to himself. Just—tries to bottle up the good days, tucking them close under his heart, to keep him warm when he’s alone.

Before he knows it, though, a year passes. Tim still hasn’t left. Jason wakes up first, like he always does, and puts on the coffee before starting breakfast. Tim stumbles out of their bedroom just after Jason finishes the pancake batter. Even with a regular sleep schedule, he’s still not a morning person.

He goes for Jason first; winding his arms around his waist and sneaking a kiss before he pours his coffee. He slips out of the way, leaning against the wall to sip his coffee and watch Jason. And somewhere between the first batch of pancakes and the fourth, he glances over, and—he sees it.

Tim is smiling at him over the rim of his cup, still a little hazy from sleep. His eyes are no longer laden with bags. His skin is clear, a little tan. He’s got freckles, just a few, dotting his face. There’s a light, a glow to him that once Jason only saw in glimpses.

He’s happy.

Here.

With Jason.

It knocks the breath from him. He doesn’t know what his face is doing—only that Tim is at his side in an instant, coffee forgotten on the counter. Wrapped in Tim’s arms, Jason finds himself spilling everything, every thought and fear that’s plagued him for the last year. When he’s done, Tim smiles sadly, his hold turning into something like a cradle, despite their size difference.

“Robin was the most important thing in my life for a long time. First because watching you both, knowing what I knew… made me feel part of something bigger. Something amazing. And then because it gave me purpose. I was doing something that mattered, and so that made me feel like I mattered. And being good at it… It made me feel like I belonged, like I was wanted.” He strokes Jason’s cheek. “But… It always felt like it could be taken away. There were times when I thought it had been. And then… us. Jason, I don’t need Robin anymore. You make me feel like I matter—and I don’t… I don’t have to… to be perfect, or prove myself. I can just be here, with you, and that’s enough. I’m enough. And that… It means everything, Jay.”

Jason is tearing up. Supposedly, he’s the one who’s good with words—and Tim has pages of love poetry and sweet letters tucked away that can attest to that—but right now? He has none. All he can do is kiss him, and hope that everything he wants to say comes through.

The gratitude. The awe. The agreement. Tim does matter, and he doesn’t have to do anything to earn it, because Jason loves him. And fuck—the reason Jason stayed, the reason he couldn’t just leave on his own was because with Tim…

Tim has always taken him as he is. He doesn’t ask Jason to be anything more than he is, and because of that… Jason wants to be. He feels like the best version of himself when they’re together, and to hear that he gives Tim that same feeling—

It’s everything.

Tim’s coffee grows cold. Breakfast burns.

Neither of them care.

[ fic writer ask game ]

[bookwyrminspiration]

Hey, for the prompt ask game, can you do “ Jeez, i don’t even wanna know how you got that battle wound there; sit down and let me fix it up, won’t you? “ with Dex and the triplets? Maybe it could be post-canon, and it could be the triplets comforting Dex? But if you have another idea, you can do that too!

Hi Nonsie!!! I certainly took my sweet time, but I hope you enjoy--I had a lot of fun figuring out their dynamic and each of the triplet's personalities :)

dear god please just let me sleep <- ao3 link

warnings: blood, injury

word count: 5k

Dex hoped he’d be able to slip away to his room before anyone caught him; he’d been running on a bare few hours of sleep the past few days, and if he didn’t crash soon, his body would make him.

Especially with how his arm stung--he couldn’t wait to sleep that off. And then immediately jump back into a political clusterfuck of trolls and mutants and treaties.

But he should’ve known better.

“You’re back!” Bex shouted, falling through the wall of the entryway and nearly losing her balance to careen through the other. “HE’S BACK!”

She turned to yell the second part at someone else, and sure enough Lex slipped through a moment later--literally. His ice path was apparently too slick for him, and as it cruised past before ending abruptly, he, too, cruised past and directly into the wall.

“Took you long enough!” his younger brother said, grinning as he shook frost from his hair--a perfect mix of their parents. “Where WERE you? We’ve been waiting all day!”

Dex summoned what little energy he had left, hoping one final show of bravado would be enough to get him through this. And then, on the other side, his bed would be waiting for him all soft, and warm, and peaceful…

“Just stupid elf work--it’s all boring. You’d hate it,” he said, offering a small smile back as he moved to continue, hoping they’d lose interest. If he just got to his room, he could close the door behind him and put up that sound-barrier he’d made from that old obscurer. “What were you waiting for?”

Rex caught up with them then, carefully stepping over the trail of ice Lex had left through the house and stopping Dex short when he said, “You. You said you were free to hang out this afternoon, remember?”

He hadn’t.

“AND! I’ve decided--we’re playing BRAMBLE!” Bex bounced through the wall again.

Rex blinked slowly, watching him. “Is that still okay? We haven’t seen you in forever--you’re always disappearing places. But if you can’t--”

“Ugh, no! Base quest would be more fun!” Lex shoved at Bex, who only laughed as his hand went straight through her shoulder--and the momentum sent him tumbling to the ground, since ice coated the floor wherever he stepped.

Mom had been telling him to cut it out, since it made the house even more dangerous for quick feet, but he hadn’t gotten the message yet.

“Knock it off, you two!” he scolded, not answering Rex’s question. “If you’re going to be rough, do it outside, remember?”

Lex stood unsteadily, then made a show of thinking. “No, I don’t think I remember.”

Then he grinned, wicked, and lunged towards Dex.

Maybe if he hadn’t had four hours of sleep in the past two days, and if he hadn’t spent those two days crawling around mutant troll hives, and maybe if one of those loose trolls hadn’t swiped him solidly on the shoulder a mere few hours ago before Lovise subdued it, he’d have been able to jump out of the way.

But all of that had happened, and he went down hard.

Lex made a noise of surprise at the way Dex crumpled, Rex gasping and Bex laughing as they crashed to the floor.

He couldn’t help the strangled hiss of pain that slipped through his teeth as Lex’s hands wrapped around his arm.

And the laughter stopped.

Lex froze--metaphorically and literally, ice crusting his nails and seeping onto Dex skin as panic bloomed on his face.

“Dex?” he asked.

Someone repeated it, but he’d closed his eyes in a grimace, pushing up slowly into a sitting position. He couldn’t stand.

His shoulder pounded and his head throbbed, and maybe his heart wasn’t beating quite right. Too fast, as if there wasn’t enough time for it to finish a beat before the next.

“What’s wrong with him?” Bex asked, too loud, and the fear in her voice had him voicing his eyes open.

He couldn’t let them see this.

“I’m fine,” he lied, prying Lex’s hands from where they still grabbed him and offering what he hoped was a comforting smile. He didn’t think he succeeded. “It’s just--”

“You’re bleeding,” Rex interrupted, coming to crouch beside him and pointing.

Dex followed his finger and cursed. The binding over his scratches must’ve been knocked loose in Lex’s tackle, and now bright red had started to seep into the fabric of his tunic. And just after it’d finally stopped bleeding.

Lex didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, shakily sober as he looked around. “My imparter’s somewhere, I’ll hail Elwin.”

“Don’t,” Dex told him, shaking his head and making himself dizzy--oh how desperately he wanted his bed. “He’s busy enough with the gnomes, and this is just a scratch.”

It was true enough.

Bex braced her hands on her hips the way she always did when she was preparing to argue--loudly. “You’re being stupid! Mom and Dad would agree with me if they were here--right Lex?”

Poor Lex looked too pale to respond, staring at the spreading blood through the fabric as he sat atop his legs next to him.

“I can treat it,” Rex offered, shifting uneasily. “If you really don’t want to hail Elwin.”

“You can what?” Dex repeated, too tired to follow.

He pulled at a thread in his tunic and looked down, cheeks flushing. “Dad’s been--he’s been working with me a lot in the store. Showed me how to make some things and how to use them. I could…I could help…” his voice faded towards the end.

Dex knew Rex had taken on almost the same role he’d had with their dad at that age, since Dex was usually too busy to help these days. If it wasn’t mutant trolls, it was the weird new illness in the gnomes--again, and this time it wasn’t the plague; they’d checked--or the weird aggression in some of the animals the Ruewen’s were taking in at Havenfield, or the million other assignments the Council and his friends had piled on him--and all this while having to keep up with the elite levels.

But he’d hadn’t been keeping track of just how far Rex had progressed already.

“Yes, do that,” Bex commanded, nodding solidly as she reached down to grab Dex as Rex disappeared down the hall. At the last moment she realized she was reaching for his bad arm and switched to the other, and he found himself hauled to his feet by his little sister.

Dex started to shake his head--he was their big brother, he was supposed to look after them--but Bex cut him off.

She’d started poking around the bloodied sleeve, and before he could stop her--though to be honest, he was so exhausted he didn’t even think to try--she’d exploited some mystical weak point in the seams and torn the sleeve clean off.

The four solid scrapes down his shoulder--previously covered by a goblin military-style wrap and some kind of second skin that’d torn loose--were on prominent display. Lex made a noise somewhere between a gag and terror.

“Stand right there--don’t even think about moving, or I’m going to rig your bathroom with stink spray.”

But as Bex reached for Lex, still pale on the floor, he couldn’t let her take complete control. He’d never live it down. “Hey,” he started, waiting until Lex looked over at him--though he looked away just as quickly. “Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s nothing--I just need to sleep, it wasn’t you.”

Lex didn’t look convinced, but before he could try again, Rex came back with a clinking bag and a furrowed look on his face.

“Okay,” he started, pulling out a bottle of youth and a cloth. He looked up and saw Dex’s now-revealed arm--but didn’t balk. “Jeez, I don’t even wanna know how you got that battle wound there; sit down and let me fix it up, won’t you?“

“LAME!” Bex scoffed, tossing Lex onto the couch where he made no move to adjust himself. Dex sank down a cushion away from him, aching. “I want to know everything! Did you get attacked by killer dwarves? A showdown with ruthless ogres?!” She took a deep breath, clearly preparing for a long string of baseless guesses--but Dex saw Lex’s wan face had started to go green.

“Stop!” he told her, and she made a scrunched face. “If I tell you, will you let it go? Lex looks like he’s gonna faint.”

She rolled her eyes. “Lex is just being a BABY, don’t hold back. Ew, what IS that?”

The second part was directed at Rex, who had settled himself next to Dex. He’d already removed the rest of the old bandage and started to clean the wound--but when he turned to look at him, he had a pot of something in his hands with a truly nasty texture.

Rex’s face went red. “It helps with irritation and infection! That’s what dad told me--it just looks like snot because that helps it stick to the skin.”

“Not you two, too!” Dex groaned, rubbing at his face with his good hand and wishing, desperately, that he’d been able to sneak up to his room before they’d caught him. Or that he’d remembered they were supposed to be hanging out today in the first place.

He should’ve gone to his dorm in the silver tower, but he hadn’t been there long enough for it to feel like home yet--and he doubted it ever would. So when Lovise had ordered him to go home and rest, he’d raised the crystal for Rimeshire and leaped before realizing this wasn’t technically where he was supposed to be.

But he did like his bed here better, so he hadn’t left.

Maybe he should’ve.

He inhaled as Rex spread whatever snot-like concoction he’d defended over his shoulder, more from the cold than anything. The chill refocused his eyes, the way splashing your face with cold water helped stave off the need to sleep just a little longer--he used the trick often when he stayed up late working. Earlier in the night he’d use a stimulant, but when it was close to done and he wanted to be able to immediately collapse after just a few more tweaks, he’d push through that way.

“So?” Bex prompted, arms folded over her chest as she kicked at his shin. “What’d you do? Was it gross? Did it hurt a lot?”

He realized there was no getting out of this. “Trolls,” he told her simply.

But of course that wasn’t enough.

“NICE! What’d they do? Did you have to fight them?” She’d leaned closer, into a bit of sun that had the staticky red hair sticking all over her head glowing in the light.

“No, and I can’t tell you anything else--it’s classified! So stop asking!”

He probably could’ve gotten away with a few more details before he got in trouble if he really wanted to--but he didn’t. He didn’t want them anywhere near the problems their world was facing; they had enough going on as it was just being them.

Bex groaned, Lex looked relieved, and Rex’s face was screwed up in concentration as he used a clean cloth and some Youth to wipe off the snot-like mixture; he hadn’t said a word as they’d let it sit, and Dex honestly couldn’t tell whether he was bothered or glad he didn’t have to hear the story.

“Am I hurting you?” Rex asked when he saw Dex was watching.

“Huh? Oh--no, you’re good.” Dex shook his head, flagging again. “I’m just tired. I forgot we were supposed to do something together today--sorry.”

Lex piped up for the first time in a while, voice uncharacteristically quiet. “Was it…bad?”

“Was what bad?”

“The…the trolls…” he whispered, his face all screwed up like he was imagining them.

Bex’s smile turned wicked. “Scaaaaaaared, are you?”

Lex’s face froze and ice sparked in his eyes as he shot back, “Am not!”

“You’re terrified! Can’t even handle thinking--”

“BEX!” Dex cut in, glaring at her. “Dad told you to stop taunting him!” As she’d gotten older, her skill at identifying the most embarrassing thing she could possibly say had evolved into a wicked talent for figuring out the sorest point she could possibly poke.

And, in typical Bex fashion, she loved to poke.

Lex, unfortunately for him, was an excellent target; they were together so often, and he still got riled up in a way that only egged her on. It’d started to slide off Rex long ago, so she’d lost interest in teasing him.

“I’m not!” Bex protested, spreading her hands to show how innocent she was.

“I so don’t have the energy for this,” Dex sighed, leaning back into the couch and closing his eyes.

Rex stopped him. “Wait! Don’t lean back yet, I need to get the bandage around your arm--I can’t do that if you’re laying on it.”

Lex, expression curled, reached to the floor to send a sheet of ice sliding under Bex--who lost her balance and fell through the coffee table.

Dex ignored them as they started fighting, turning to Rex; every feature was focused on his shoulder, lips thin and pale, but hands steady.

With a pang of guilt, he realized he hadn’t paid attention at all to what Rex had been doing--his eyelids had started blinking at different times, so no one could really blame him, but he still felt bad.

He’d gotten used to pain these last few years, so the faint stings in his shoulder as Rex wrapped him up barely registered--especially as he handed him a painkiller.

“You’re good at this--maybe we should give you to Elwin.” He set the empty vial aside, trying to recork it with one hand and shaking fingers. He wasn’t having much success.

A final tuck to secure the wrap. “There--you should be good. But, uh, you should probably check with Elwin later,” Rex said over Lex and Bex’s arguing about whether non-water frozen liquids counted as ice. He took the vial from Dex’s other hand and corked it easily, dropping it into his bag.

Dex shook his head. “Nah, he’s way too busy--this is fine.”

Rex looked like he wanted to argue, but only shifted and looked away.

Unable to help the small groan as Dex let himself sink into the cushions, he closed his eyes.

Then, “Was it bad?”

He decided he didn’t need to have this conversation with his eyes open, and enjoyed the reprieve as he asked, “Was what bad?”

The cushions squeaked under Rex, and Lex and Bex cut off.

“OO are you gonna tell us now?”

Rex sighed. “Was your…mission bad? You don’t…you don’t usually come home hurt. When you do come home, that is.”

“I get hurt all the time, Rex--all my friends do.”

Lex’s voice this time, from his other side. “Yeah but--but you’re always better by the time you come home. Mostly. You don't usually…” he trailed off, and Dex swore the temperature dropped several degrees on his left.

You don’t usually collapse.

“What, you worried about me?” he added a light tease to the words, lips curling ever so slightly. If he didn’t open his eyes soon he was going to fall asleep right then and there.

Bex spoke up, impatient. “Well, DUH! Why do you think I keep asking about it, dummy?”

His eyes snapped open, his mouth falling ever so slightly open as his eyebrows raised.

Bex stood in front of him, disheveled and soaked from melting snow, one of her legs still inside the coffee table. And staring directly at him.

“Huh?”

She tapped him on the forehead. “I SAID--”

“Not so loud!” he protested, and she huffed in indignation.

“I said, why do you think I keep asking about the trolls, dummy? You’re our brother, we wanna know what’s going on! You never tell us anything, that’s why I have to be so pushy!”

“You just like being pushy,” Rex said.

Bex thought for a moment, rocking back on her heels. “Yeah, that too.”

Dex looked between the three of them. Lex had his legs curled up on the cushions, ripping a hole in his pants wider, Bex with her arms crossed standing towering over them all, and Rex with his hands still stained with Dex’s blood.

And all facing directly at him.

“You worry about me?” he repeated, brain trying to reboot so it could process that--and failing.

“You never talk to us about what you and all those weird friends of yours do, but you have to know we hear the rumors,” Bex shifted her hands to her hips, and he almost felt like he was being scolded.

Lex cut in, “And when you still lived here, we’d see how you came home--you always had all those cuts and bruises.”

Dex blinked. “You were paying attention to that?”

“Not really,” Rex shrugged. “But it was hard not to notice sometimes. Especially whenever we thought about…”

“Your planting,” Bex finished for him. “We were there, you know.”

“You think about my planting?” He should probably stop repeating everything they said, but it was hard not to.

Lex admitted, “Sometimes,” and started sketching something in frost on his arm.

Dex wasn’t sure what to say to that; it was always awkward whenever it came up with his parents, but he’d never spoken about it with the triplets. It hadn’t even occurred to him it could affect them--they’d been so annoyingly loud and disconnected from the world around them when they were younger.

Of course they still were loud and annoying as hell, especially at home, and especially whenever he was around--at least Lex and Bex were. Rex was always…a little quiet. Somber.

With time, he’d started to come to terms with the fact he wasn’t going to manifest, and he’d slowly become more part of the triplet triad again like he’d used to be. But now there was a distance between them, even as he found his new place, that Dex worried would never go away.

“Did you fall asleep with your eyes open or something?” Bex interrupted his musings, shifting her weight side to side impatiently. Like she wanted to be moving.

“When was the last time you slept?” Rex asked suddenly, leaning forward and squinting like he could glean the answer from something on Dex’s face. And maybe he could, because he guessed, “A few days?”

Dex made a face, closing his eyes again. “Something like that.”

“I bet I could stay awake for an entire week,” Bex mused, nodding in agreement with herself as she looked off somewhere. “I’d definitely last longer than you,” she said, and he could only assume she was talking to Lex with the indignant noise he made.

But Lex didn’t respond. Instead, his voice turned back to Dex, hesitant and awkward. “You know--you know you can always talk to us about it--right? You know that? We could even help--we’re old enough.”

“What?! No way.” Against all his wishes, his eyes were open again--but this time it was terror, not surprise that had his heart pounding and his head throbbing with the blood rush.

Lex was adamant, even as his cheeks colored. “We’re older than you were when you met Sophie and started doing--doing whatever it is you do!”

Dex’s retort stopped abruptly in his throat as he quickly did the math and realized, with no small amount of horror, that his little brother was right. He’d been a level two when everything had started, and now--now the triplets were level fours.

He’d started even younger than them--how was that possible?

They looked so small with their shaggy hair and bright eyes, their round cheeks and wrinkled clothes--well, Bex and Lex were wrinkled. Rex had stayed composed.

Who’d been so irresponsible as to let Dex join the rebellion that young?

But even if they were older than he’d been, that didn’t make them old enough--they should stay far, far away from the dangers of his life.

Desperate, he searched for another excuse. “You don’t even know what we do! You can’t be ready for it.”

“We could if you told us!” Bex cut in, pulling at a wet knot in her hair so forcefully he winced.

“Mom might actually kill me,” he told her, and it wasn’t far from the truth. His mom, even as a member of the Collective of the Black Swan, one of its leaders, was nervous about having him involved in everything--after years of proving himself! Everything she was doing was so they didn’t have to risk themselves, so she could give them a better world on a silver platter.

Yeah, she wouldn’t be thrilled if he managed to drag his three baby siblings into it, too.

“Since when do you do what people tell you to do?” Bex shot back, succeeding in tearing the knot from her hair with her fingers and dropping it to the floor. “What---scaaared?”

“If you’re not scared, then you’re not ready!”

“You’re scared?” Lex asked, as though surprised. He’d stopped fiddling with the now-very-large hole in his pants and stared at Dex like he’d never seen him before.

Dex sighed, not sure how he’d gotten himself stuck in this conversation. “Of course I am--we don’t do this for fun, you know. We do it because someone has to. And that means risking our lives all the time! And if you don’t understand how scary that is--” he glared at Bex “--then you’re not taking it seriously and won’t be any help.”

“I understand,” Rex said, quiet. He looked at his bloody hands. “Dad and I talk about it sometimes.”

That stopped him short. “You do?”

Rex shifted as all three of them turned to him in surprise.

“Dad never talks to US about that,” Bex complained. “Why do you get to be special?”

Something behind Rex’s eyes shuttered and he tensed. “Because I’m not special.”

Even Bex looked like she regretted the words as they registered what he meant.

“Rex, you are--” Dex started, automatic, but Rex didn’t let him.

“I’m not moping,” he said. “I don’t need you to comfort me. It’s a fact. I’m not like you. That’s why…that’s why Dad and I talk about it. Because it’s…different for us. And he wants to make sure I’m ready, just in case.”

He looked away, color creeping up his cheeks.

Lex shifted, and Bex’s face was all scrunched up in a way he’d need Keefe to understand.

He wasn’t around much anymore, and he’d spent the triplet’s childhoods trying to stay away from them because they’d always caused such a headache.

But he did know this: they didn’t talk about this.

Bex and Lex had been insufferable about it in the beginning, back when they’d thought Rex would just be a late bloomer. So when it had become clear that wasn’t the case…

It’d piddled off into something unspoken between them, even as Rex found a new place in their triad. Found himself alone even in a group. Which was why Dex worried.

Because Bex and Lex didn’t really get it, and Rex didn’t explain it.

“Maybe Bex and Lex aren’t ready,” Rex said, scratching at the drying blood on his fingertips so it flaked off, “but I am. I know there’s…a lot I can’t do, but I can help. I helped you just now.” He pointed to Dex’s shoulder.

“Hey--I’m ready!” Lex said. “Bex is the problem, not me.” He’d dropped his legs off the couch and sat up straighter.

Dex was never going to come home again. “GUYS! Why can’t you bother mom about this--I don’t have the energy to argue with you about it right now.”

“Aww, does Dexy need to go beddy-bye?” Bex grinned, yanking her leg out of the table to reach forward and grab at his cheek like a baby.

“YES!” he burst out, swatting her away and pressing the fingers of his good arm into his eyes. “That’s ALL I’ve wanted to do since I got back--it’s why I came back. I’ve been awake for three days and spent all of them crawling through mutant troll hives and getting attacked! Of COURSE I want to sleep!”

Silence fell, and he wanted to be pissed with them the way he always used to be when they were little and hyper. He wanted to roll his eyes and shove them outside so he could enjoy how their voices muffled through the walls as he worked.

But they weren’t those people anymore.

And he simply didn’t have the energy to be angry.

“I’m done talking about this,” he sighed, moving to push up from the couch.

“Wait!” Bex lunged forward, pushing him back as she leaned on his legs, eyes bright. “Don’t go yet!”

Rex shook his head, sinking back against the cushions. “He really does need a nap.”

“Just one more minute!” she insisted, staring him right in his face. Hers was a little blurry, and he had to fight to keep her in focus. “We can do this, okay? You don’t need to keep babying us; we can take care of ourselves. We already DO--all the time!”

“I’m not trying to--”

“Yes, you ARE!” she cut him off. “Didn’t you HATE when everyone did that to you? Maybe we haven’t fought mutant trolls or anything, but we’re not little kids anymore. We can help you!”

Dex shook his head, letting it drop against the cushions. “I said I was done talking about this! Let me go.”

“No!”

“Bex!”

“PLEASE!”

“I said no!”

“What if you die again?”

The words burst from her chest, hot and angry and with enough force Dex thought they’d blow straight through him. Bex’s hands were in fists at her side, her cheeks flushed and face furious.

Lex had drawn his legs back onto the couch and wrapped his arms around them, eyes wide. Rex’d screwed up his face and dropped his gaze to the floor, finally leaving Dex’s blood on his hands alone.

Dex could barely hear himself through the ringing in his ears. “What are you talking about?”

Bex crossed her arms, looking between her three brothers--Rex and Lex both quiet, Dex confused and wondering every moment how he was still awake.

“They made me promise not to say anything, but--”

“Bex!” Lex cut in, horrified.

What? What didn’t they want him knowing?

Bex rolled her eyes, but Lex’s hand just went through when he reached for her. “Lex is a crybaby, but I’M not afraid to say it. They get all nervous when they hear the gossip about you and your weird friends, that’s why we want to help. You barely come home anymore, and when you do you’ve always got problems--like your stupid troll scratch you won’t tell us about. They’re total wrecks about it when you’re not around--they just want to seem cool in front of you.”

“Do NOT!” Lex interrupted, bright red as his hair. “You’re just as bad!”

“Am NOT!” Bex asserted, and the snowball Lex flung at her passed right through her face; she must’ve made her whole body intangible, because she fell through the table and started to sink into the floor with a wicked laugh.

Rex raised his voice. “SERIOUSLY! Can you two CUT IT OUT for ONCE?” His hands had balled into fists, and his lips had gone thin. “This is why Dex doesn’t talk to us anymore!”

Lex dropped his hand, coated in frost; Bex pulled herself up and sat back down with a thump as she became solid again.

Dex had nothing to say.

Or maybe he did. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“What?” Lex asked.

His voice was suddenly hoarse and he didn’t know why, and the words started to spill as his eyes fell closed, a battle he finally lost. “I’m sorry I’m not home as much--I didn’t…I didn’t know you cared. It’s not because of anything you did. You know that, right?”

“You don’t have to pretend it’s not,” Rex said, sounding so tired Dex wanted to cry.

“Do I look like I have the energy to pretend?” He raised his eyebrows even though his eyes were closed, and he didn’t move.

Bex responded. “No, you look awful.”

“You’re--you’re okay, right? I didn’t…” Lex was anxious again, and Dex remembered his horrified pale face as he crashed atop Dex.

“This wasn’t you, either,” he promised again.

“That didn’t answer the question,” Rex pointed out.

Dex groaned--of course they had to pick today of all days to be observant. “Just give me…a day…I’ve had worse.” His breathing was slowing, and faint alarm bells started to toll in his head; if he didn’t get up now, he wasn’t getting up for a good long while.

Then, out of nowhere, rustling came to his left.

Warmth seeped into his side as Lex pressed against him, and he felt a head on his shoulder.

“I swear I didn’t mean to,” his voice whispered next to his ear, and Dex hummed low.

“I know.”

Then Rex was on his other side, careful of his shoulder. “Did it help?” A slight tap below his bandages.

He nodded.

“Babies,” Bex muttered, but he felt the couch shift under her weight--far enough she wasn’t touching anyone, but close enough she was there. “This conversation isn’t over.”

“Not now, Bex,” Rex chided.

“I know!” Bex said. “I’m not saying now! Just making sure Dexy knows we’re not going to drop this just because he got beat up by some trolls and can’t stand straight--as if anything about him was ever straight.”

Dex stopped listening, heart slowing as his brothers shifted against him and argued with his sister. And something about it--maybe the house, which he’d been away from too long, or the noise more familiar to him than his pulse--was infinitely more comfortable than his quiet dorm back in the silver tower.

“I think he’s falling asleep.”

“Good, he looks horrible. We should draw on his face.”

“We should draw on your face. You need a mustache.”

And then Rex’s voice was at his ear, low. “Thanks. For letting me help.”

Dex could barely hear him, but he thought, No, thank you. For everything.

As he drifted off, surrounded by his little siblings on their family couch, actually together for the first time in years, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

[solwinters]

*  ♔  ◟     (   arnas fedaravicius,   twenty - eight,   cis man,   he/him   )     the  capital  of  king’s  landing  welcomes  arnolf  of  house karstark,  the  lord  of  karhold.  news  borne  by  raven  sends  word  that  they  are  reputed  to  be  loyal,  but  with  the  eyes  of  court  watching  their  every  move,  they  might  prove  to  be  reckless.  when  songs  are  sung,  their  verses  speak  of  the sweet sound of steel clashing against steel, taste of blood and the sting of cold and ice, spilled ale and drunken stories.  whispers  throughout  the  seven  kingdoms  claim  that  their  allegiance  lies  with  house  targaryen  of  dragonstone,  where  they  conspire  to  protect what is left of their house.  but  in  the  end,  fealty  means  little  when  you  play  the  game  of  thrones.   

stats :

name : arnolf stark age : 28 title : lord of karhold date of birth : fourth day of the fourth moon ( april 4th ) sexuality : heterosexual languages spoken : common tongue, old tongue religion : the old gods

height : 193cm hair colour : brown eye colour : blue

father : tba mother : tba siblings : tba other : tba

traits : steadfast , tactless , protective , impulsive , dogmatic , impetuous , defiant , resilient mbti : istp alignment : chaotic good astro : aries sun , capricorn moon , scorpio rising

about :

second youngest son , wild child. you arrive into this world during the false spring , all bloodied and with a warrior's cry. your earliest memories - harsh snow storm , mother's warm embrace , snowflakes melting on hot skin , the cold feels like home. following elder brothers around the courtyard with a wooden sword , eager to fight , to learn. you fall and you bleed but you don't give up ; you get up again and demand more , as long as you have your strength. you don't talk much when outsiders come ; you observe them with a glare , you hide. your mother laughs , a wildling she calls you. son of the north , you are devoted to it and the old gods , for they speak to you. your blood runs cold and trouble is all you know ; father and mother stop worrying eventually, it is simply your nature. your blood runs hot and you like your freedom , to explore , to live , journeys taking you only further north , even beyond the wall. south and its politics do not interest you. you are strong , but not as strong as you believe. family is everything , and when the rebellion comes you get a taste of war, you lose friends, brothers, father and with them, a piece of yourself. you will never be the same.

headcanons , personality & other :

very loyal to and protective of his fam and the north as a whole.

the furthest south he's ever been is white harbor , before coming to king's landing for the festivities. he hates it.

skilled but reckless fighter. doesn't believe in dodging hits and he has the scars to show for it.

the old gods speak to him ok. if he doesn't have a weirwood tree to pray to at least once a day he will grow very irritable.

honest and blunt but that's because he can't lie for shit , you can always tell. had the shit beat out of him a few times as a kid because he was in places he wasn't supposed to be + that big mouth of his , but that only made him #stronger. he thinks fondly of those memories.

a lot of unresolved #issues from fighting against the rebellion and losing so many people that he refuses to deal with.

[justlookatthosesausages]

How would you interpret a Frozen/Wonderland AU?

You mean Alice In Wonderland? based on what? the book? the Disney animated movie? Tim Burton's movie? the video games? jgklfdhjfds I'm gonna take a random guess and think it's Wonderland in general. boy that's an odd world to work with.

the lore of Wonderland is nuts in general so everything just drives Frohana mad when they accidentally land in it. (I picture them to walk through in a similar way to when they discovered the Enchanted Forest). Elsa is in awe at everything but is one inch away from going crazy because nothing makes sense there, not only do gravity and physics laws go wrong, her magic also goes awry. When she sprays ice the snowflakes are liquid dust and they seem to mock her and she hates it lol. Anna loves it at every step, it's an insane world that vibes positivity but she admits that her head hurts with all the mental puzzles. Kristoff has to physically restrain her and Olaf to eat and drink everything they put their hands on because in Wonderland it has CONSEQUENCES and him and Elsa don't want to deal with a giant Olaf and a small Anna (who tripped on every tree root) like they did on day one.

Queen Anna confronting the Queen of Hearts in an amazing showdown like, both politically and in fight when the army of cards is unleashed on Anna and she insists on fighting all of them

OMG ANNA WIELDING THE VORPAL SWORD AND SLAYING THE JABBERWOCKY (she kills it within three days there. the Knave completely loses it)

Elsa being genuinely admirative of the Mad Hatter's work and dedication and creativity and she's heartbroken when she realizes what drove him mad and how it affects his talent (tons of conversations about fabric between them)

Sven and the Cheshire Cat keeps giving each other looks like they know they're in a crossover and they keep doing meta stuff like looking at a non existent camera as if they're on The Office. Kristoff keeps frantically looking around for it.

They're all mad there 🤣

Send me a Frozen AU and I'll write 5 headcanons about it!

[jedi-in-crocs]

Unintended

Summary: Bexley and Frankie have been married for a few years. They've never really thought about kids. They lived nextdoor to their best friends Jon and Zara. After years of trying to have a baby Jon and Zara decided that they would ask Bexley to be their surrogate.

"Families don't have to match. You don't have to look like someone else to love them" - Leigh Anne Tuohy

Part One: Surrogacy

Frankie had been unusually moody this morning he barely kissed Bexley goodbye as he left this morning. Bexley being the overly concerned overly worried person that she is texted him numerous times throughout the morning: "are you sure you're okay?" "is there anything I can get you at the store today? "

She knew it was bad if it was just a simple "no". As the day worn on she didn't bother him much. Bexley sat in her office designing a floor truss when a soft knock startled her out of her trance. Zara her best friend was standing there with a huge grin and two Starbucks drinks.

"Z! You scared the crap out of me!"

Zara smiles and hands her an iced coffee.. "well I was in the neighborhood getting my hair done and I thought I'd drop by to say Hi and bring you a pick me up" she says swinging her long braids . Bexley couldn't help but notice the K-flex on her arm. But she didn't say anything.

Bexley takes a drink "hmmm lookin' good! Hot momma!"

She quickly saves her work as Zara sits on the chair in Bexley 's office

"I wish I was a momma. " Zara sighed and looks down at her drink.

"It'll happen for you. I know it will. And you'll have a baby that Auntie Bex can spoil rotten" Bexley said turning around to face her.

Zara clears her thoughts and says "What are you and Frankie doing tonight? Its short notice but Id like to invite you guys over tonight for dinner. "

"We don't have anything planned. He's in a mood today but if it's free food and beer he'll be down." Bexley smiles

Well, I better get back home and get things ready see you guys at 7ish?" Zara says getting up and walking out of Bexley 's office

"Sounds good. Text me with what I can bring. Thanks for the drink." Bexley says Zara smiles and heads off.

Bexley pulls her medium length brown hair back in a clip and continues to work. It was unusual that Zara showed up randomly at her job like that. She checked her phone to see if she had missed a text from her but nothing.

Frankie works as an EMS helicopter pilot for the hospital. Jon worked with Frankie as a flight nurse. Bexley usually got home before he did.

Later that evening Frankie was on time she was sitting on the couch with one of their dogs, Daisy. Frankie came in grumbling under his breath. "Honey?" She said and she got off the couch and put the dogs out. He did say anything.

He plopped on the couch massaging his temples. Bexley walked over and sat beside him and said, "Baby, Are-" before she could get out the sentence he cut her off

"What Bexley?!" Frankie said with a raised voice.

"Nothing... I was just wondering how your day went" Bexley said sitting next to him... She took his hand "I'm sorry for whatever I did... I don't know what I did but whatever it is I'm sorry baby."

"Everything and everyone's pissing me off today. No matter what I do or go I can't shake off this crappy feeling. I just wanna be angry and snap at anything that moves." Frankie said before exhaling loudly. "It's not you baby." He said in a calmer tone

"Good.... Jon and Zara invited us for dinner and beers tonight. If you don't want to go I'm sure they'll understand" she said

He groaned. He hated social interaction when he is in his moods. After a few seconds of silence he spoke.

"Only do it for the alcohol because it's a good way to blow off steam...but I'm not gonna pretend that I'm interested, nor am I gonna be polite. I'll also just stare into the distance with a pissed off look." Frankie said

Bexley rubs his arm... "It'll be fine... Drink a few beers and watch the game. Watch Tom Brady lose again".. she says trying to make him smile.

"Don't mention that man's name... But yeah I do love watching him lose. It's satisfying." Frankie said as a small smile formed on face "But what if I can blow off all this anger another way? If you catch my drift?" He added, his smile turning into a smirk

She met his smirk "Oh? Well it's only 5:30. We don't have to be over there till 7"... She said rubbing his thigh.

"I think we can find something to do to kill some time." Frankie said before leaning in and pulling Bexley closer as he began to kiss her neck passionately. His breathing getting heavier and more passionate as he did.

"Hmmmm baby... That's my man...." She says purring. She pulled herself onto his lap.

Frankie continued kissing her neck. One hand gently massaging her hip while and other ran through her hair. He was in the zone now, and the only thing he was thinking about was the gorgeous woman sitting on his lap. "I want you." He whispered softly in her ear before gently bitting her earlobe.

"Hmmmm then have me. I'm a buffet for you baby" she said in a low voice

He smirked and looked into her eyes. "I plan on taking as much of the buffet as I can." He said before scooping her up from his lap and carrying her bridal style to their bedroom. She giggled as he carried her upstairs. He kicked their bedroom door opened before laying Bexley down on the bed. While staring at her with pure lust in his eyes. He kissed her deeply and passionately as he laid next to her, a hand caressing her thigh.

"Ohhhh... Hmmmmmm" . She moaned softly and pulled at his flannel shirt He sat up and ripped off his flannel shirt before moving his hands up her body to the hem of her t-shirt, pulling it over her head before looking at her body with pure admiration. He loved this woman with everything he had. "God you are so beautiful." He said admiring her body. She blushes a bit and pulled out her hair tie letting her brown hair fall. He gently ran his fingers through it and tucked a few strands behind her ear. "So beautiful." He whispers leaning in and placing tender kisses on her neck. He started peppering kisses down her body till he reached her stomach, his hands gently massaging her thighs and hips.

"Hmmmmmm. Mmmmmm". Bexley moaned as he massagd her thighs and hips. She sat up unhooked her bra and tossed it near the hamper. He couldn't help but smile into her skin as he kissed. Pulling her closer as he did. The feeling of her soft and warm skin against his was soothing to him. And he wanted her closer, more and more and more. He kissed and bit his way down her body, stopping at her hips and staring up at her. The sight of her taking him breath, she was so beautiful. He leaned up gently kissed a sensitive spot and then began slowly removing her jeans. She raised her hips letting him remove her jeans. He threw her jeans to one side of the room as he continued to kiss his way down her body. His hands holding her hips as he finally reached her panties. He stared at her for a moment before his kisses continued down her body. He was in no rush, he wanted to explore every bit of her body and worship her in a way she deserves.

She sat up and unzipped his pants... Reaching to palm at his crotch. Frankie let out a moan as he felt her hand against his crotch. He stared into her eyes, his own dark and filled with pleasure as she touched him. He leaned down and began trailing kisses on her neck as he gently removed her panties, his need for her only growing.

"Ohhhh... Baby"... She moaned softly

He groaned in pleasure as she said that, his hand gently gripping her hip and pulling her closer, needing to be as close as possible to her. He whispered softly onto her skin "You are so beautiful. So perfect. I love you." He said as his hand gently massaged her inner thigh, his lips never leaving her skin.

"I love you too" she said wrapping her arms around his neck.

He pulled her as close as possible, his hands gently roaming her body as he pressed his lips against hers. He kissed her passionately and lovingly, his tongue gently massaging hers as he deepened the kiss, the need for her and her taste was stronger than ever. He was addicted to her, he couldn't get enough. He moved his body to hover over hers, his kisses still full of passion and need as he laid her down on her back. He pulled her to the edge of his side of the bed holding her legs open her back flat against the bed. Frankie looked down at her, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at her. There were no words to describe how beautiful and sexy she looked. He was mesmerized in her, in the moment. He held her legs gently, staring down at her for a moment before gently sliding into her. He groaned at the feeling, his senses going into overload as he tried to not lose himself in her.

They both moaned loudly almost in unison. He groaned as well, the feeling of her was overwhelming to him. He started moving slowly, his pace gentle and tender as he kept a loving hold on her thighs. He looked down at her and watched her face as he gently moved in and out, the way she moaned and writhed beneath him only making him need her more. She held the edge of the bed as he held her legs thrusting into her. He stared at her as he thrusted, a bit of sweat already formed on his forehead. His breathing got heavy and more labored as the feeling of pleasure in his body got stronger and stronger. He whispered softly between breaths "I love you. I love you so much."

"Hmmmm.... That's it baby" she moans..... " I'm getting close"

Frankie could feel her body become tense and he felt himself nearing the edge, and he wouldn't last longer. He looked down at her intensely, watching as she got closer, his breath getting heavier and his grip on her legs getting tighter. He whispered softly "I love you. I love you. I love you." He whispered with each thrust as he moved. His eyes full of love and lust and need for her. He could feel himself reaching the edge. As he felt himself get closer he quickly reached for the condoms in his nightstand. He quickly grabbed a condom from the nightstand and tore it open, his breaths coming out in heavy puffs. He rolled it on quickly, but without taking his eyes off of her. He needed her, and needed to see her as he came undone.

She pants.... "I thought we were out..."

He groaned as he began moving again, this time with a bit more needy and aggressive as the need was growing so strong by now that it felt like a primal need now. The sight of her beneath him brought on a wave of want and desire that he needed to act on. "I got a new pack. Needed them soon I guess." He grunted out between breaths. He held her legs and thrusted in deeper. He just needed her so badly.

"Ohhh... You... Really... Ohhhhh did... Hmmmmmm" she held on to the bed as be kept thrusting into her deeply.

He groaned and his breaths got heavy and more shallow as he moved. He wasn't going to last long. He was so close. And looking down at her made things even worse and he groaned loudly. "I can't... Baby I.. I'm gonna.." He panted deeply through breaths and words.

"Come baby... Ohhhh baby I'm there ... " She moans and pants

He groaned loudly at hearing those words and as he looked down at her. The image of her and the words leaving her mouth sent him over the edge and he moaned loudly as he came undone, he tightened his grip on her legs as he panted heavily with each breath. She lifted her hips as her climax followed right after.

He panted heavily, his breaths coming out in exhausted puffs as he looked down at her with a tired yet satisfied look in his eyes. He gently let go of her legs as he slowly pulled out, breathing hard as he did. "You're incredible." He said before leaning down and kissing her.

"Hmmmm".. she kisses him back

He walks into the bathroom to take care of the condom. She follows him in there and turns on the shower. He steps into the shower and leans his back against the wall as the water runs over him. The steam rising up in the shower and the warm water relaxing his muscles. He stood there for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of the warm water before wrapping his arms around Bexley's waist and pulling her close, her back against his chest and his chin leaning into her shoulder. "Thank you." he whispered softly before placing a kiss on her skin. "Of course baby... What are wives for? She says with a grin. He sighed deeply and held her closer, enjoying the intimacy and the feeling of holding her so close. They stood like this for a few moments till he pulled himself away and grabbed the loofah and poured body wash over it before running it over her body, gently massaging it into her skin as he did. "I don't do this enough. I need to spoil you more." He mumbled with a tired and guilty look.

"You spoil me enough. I'm happy with our life. " She said confidently.

He smiled and planted a gentle kiss on her shoulder before continuing to massage the body wash into her skin, paying extra attention to her shoulders and back. He held her as close as he could as he did, still feeling somewhat guilty over the earlier argument and how he snapped at her. "I still feel like I don't do enough. Especially not with how hard you work. You're always taking care of my cranky old ass."

She giggled a bit "I love you and I know I can be cranky when that magical time of the month is happening"

He couldn't help but chuckle at that. She could be pretty grumpy during that time, but she could only take so much before she exploded. It was cute to watch her get all "grouchy" and her cheeks puff out, and she was adorable when she was trying to be angry but just ending looking cute.

"You're still adorable no matter how bitchy you get." He said while pressing another kiss into her shoulder.

"I'll take that as a compliment, by the way. I like this new shower head you got" she said

"Yeah it's a good one, better water pressure, saves a bit of water too." He said as the continued washing her body. He was taking his time, he wanted her to be as relaxed as possible. They still had plenty of time, and nothing but time. And he wanted her to enjoy it. He ran the loofah along her ass before crouching down to wash her feet.

After their shower she dries her hair as he gets dressed. She starts to curl her ends with her curling iron

"Hey did Jon act weird at work today?" She asked

He put on his favorite jeans and a t shirt and sat on the bed as she did her hair. He started rubbing the lotion onto his skin as she asked her question.

"Not that I noticed, why you ask?" He said, shrugging slightly. He was more concentrated on thinking about what the hell to say to them later on, and the possible scenarios, the anxiety wasn't making him feel great.

"Zara just popped in my office today. She brought me Starbucks normally she'd text me if I was busy. But she said she had gotten her hair done but she had on one of those kflex things like she had had blood drawn. " She said turning off the curling iron. She started to put on a bit of makeup.

Frankie looked puzzled by this and tilted his head slightly, wondering what they both could be up to. He kept rubbing lotion into his arms as he thought, slightly wondering what it was about. "That is weird, sounds very suspicious. What could they be up to?"

"Maybe another round of those fertility shots? They've been trying for like 5 years now. I think she's losing hope" Bexley said applying her blush.

Frankie sighs deeply. He feels bad for Jon and Zara, the both really wanted kids, but so far they haven't had any luck with it. And the fertility shots were the last hope, from what he knows. "Maybe it is, those two have really been wanting kids, I hate seeing them so disappointed."

"I know.... I wish there was something I could do for her... You know? She's been my best friend since we were in Pre school. " She said

He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I know you do. You've always looked out for her, and would never want to see her being hurt." He knew how much Zara meant to her, and how badly she wanted her to be happy. He wished there was something he could do as well but, if those shots didn't work then there wasn't much that anyone could do. "Just be there for her if it doesn't work. She'll need you."

"You know I will be" .. she reaches to hold his hand... " Hey by the way did you let Jasper and Daisy in? "

He took her hand and held it in his as he stared at her with a puzzled look on his face. He didn't let the dogs in, so why was she asking? "No, I haven't let them in yet. They're still outside. Why?"

"Oh shit. They've been outside all this time" their eyes widened. Frankie made a mad dash downstairs and swung the back door open.

Frankie's heart sank at that as he opened the backdoor to see his two dogs sitting there, both looking tired and thirsty. He felt guilt and shame hit him like a train as he took in the sight of them. "Daisy! Jasper! Oh you two I'm so sorry!" He said as he knelt down to hug them both and pat their heads and bellies. They both jumped on him and immediately licked his face and whined. The pit/lab mix Jasper was so excited but the first thing Daisy, the English bulldog did was go directly for the food dishes. Bexley comes downstairs putting on her earrings

"My poor babies" . She said.

Frankie looked at Bexley, with Jasper still in his arms as she went over to check on the dogs. "I can't believe we forgot them." He said softly as he patted Jaspers back. He felt horrible about forgetting and he was certain that these two would never let him forget it.

She sighs and fixes their food. "That's what happens when you're having kinky hot sex" she said with a smirk

Frankie chuckled and nodded as he gave Jasper a tight squeeze. "You ain't wrong about that." He said with a smile, feeling some of his guilt disappear seeing the dogs happily eating their food.

She exhales a bit for relief.

"You ready to head next door?" She asks putting her phone in her purse.

Frankie stood up sighed. "As ready as I'll ever be." He said softly as he started to the backdoor, the anxiety and nerves building up in him.

She gives a half smile and holds his hand and grabs her purse. Frankie takes her hand and holds it tight, giving it an extra tight squeeze. The moment he had been dreading had come, and there was no more avoiding it. He took a deep breath as he headed out the door.

After dinner and beers and the Chiefs beating the Buccaneers 26-7 Frankie was in a my h happier mood.

Zara brought in a lemon cake in the living room for dessert and after she had distributed the slices her and Jon sat across from them and Jon turned off the TV. Zara took a deep breath and said "So this was more than just a dinner tonight."

Frankie had his arm around Bexley and he nodded as Zara spoke, the anxiety immediately rearing its ugly head. He sighed as he looked at her, bracing himself for the conversation that he knew was going to follow. Zara held Jon's hands and spoke nervously

"As you both know we've been having a lot of issues over the years conceiving. And I recently found out that I wouldn't be able to carry a baby to term"

Bexley said "I'm so sorry.There has to be other options for y'all right?"

Zara sighed deeply and nodded, trying to hold back her tears. "I don't know. We've about tried everything we can. My doctor said the best option left is to get a surrogate." She said softly as she rested her hand on Jon's.

Zara reached over and held Bexley 's hand "we want you to be our surrogate"

Frankie looked stunned.

Frankie's jaw dropped as she heard Zara's words, his eyes widening as he stared at the both of them. He couldn't believe what he had just heard, his heart pounding so loudly that he swore they could hear it. He sat there in silence for a moment before finally finding his voice. "What...?"

Jon spoke up "look I know this is a major thing to ask. It's tremendous. If you need time to think about it.. we understand "

Bexley shook her head and said "No, I don't need time. I'll do it."

Frankie looked over at Bexley as she answered. He wasn't sure what to think of this, he was happy that she was so on board with this, but at the same time he was scared. Having a child is a huge responsibility, and to have his wife carry that responsibility was scary. He gently squeezed her hand as he looked at Zara, still somewhat stunned by the whole situation.

Bexley spoke with confidence "I'll do it. I'll do anything to help you. I promise you both I'll keep your baby safe and healthy until it's born. "

Zara started crying and immediately hugged Bexley tightly, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you.. thank you so much." She said between sobs as she held on to her. Jon was just as grateful, holding on to her hand as well and he was looking a bit misty eyed himself.

"I love you Zara" Bexley said softly still hugging her tightly.

Zara pulled away from the hug and wiped her tears away as she smiled at Bexley. "I love you too." She said softly, her voice still somewhat shaky. As the emotion began to subside a bit, Frankie took her hand in his again. His heart was still beating loudly, but not as fast as it was, and he was slightly calmer now as he took it all in.

Bexley wiped her tears as they sat back and finished dessert. Zara gave her the specialist's number so she can start making her appointments.

Frankie and Bexley walked home in slight silence, hand in hand as he tried to process the events of the evening. The idea of having a baby was a lot to process, but having been raised on the idea of family being the most important thing, it had crossed his mind numerous times over the years, so the idea wasn't foreign to him. He held her hand tightly, glad that she would be beside him as they went through this new journey. They walked in their house being greeted by their dogs .

"Frankie? You've been quiet" she said

Frankie smiled as he saw Jasper and Daisy, both of them running up and jumping up on him, their tails wagging wildly. He gave them both a pet before they ran off to their beds. He looked over at Bexley and nodded, realizing he had been quiet the entire walk home. "Yeah, sorry. Just a lot to take in you know?"

"Yeah it is. Remember how I said that I wished there was something I can do?" She said leaning against the kitchen counter.

Frankie nodded, remembering their conversation in the shower earlier. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze as he listened. "Yeah, I do." He said softly.

"This is what I can do. I'm not 30 yet. I'm healthy I can do this for them" Bexley spoke with such bravery it was inspiring to Frankie

Frankie looked at Bexley, seeing the determination in her eyes. She was a strong and healthy woman, and he knew that she would be able to carry the baby for Zara and Jon. He gave her a small smile and nodded, knowing that she was more than capable of doing this. "You're right. You are healthy and you are strong. I know you'll be able to do it for them.”

"How do you feel about me doing this? Be honest" she said still holding his hands

He took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes as he spoke. “Honestly? I’m scared. It’s a big responsibility and it’s gonna be tough to see you go through the pregnancy. But at the same time, I’m proud of you because you’re doing this for them. And you’re doing what needs to be done. Even though I’m scared, I know you’re stronger than anyone I know, and I trust you to bring this baby into the world.” she pulls him closer.

She nodded and spoke softly.. "I know it's scary. We have never talked about kids of our own."

Frankie looked down at her. He had often thought of a future where they had a family, but never brought it up with her because he didn’t want to pressure her. "Yeah, we never really have. I would be lying if I said I didn't want us to have kids of our own someday."

"Yeah... I'd like one or two someday. I just figured if it happens it happens." She said with a shrug.

Frankie nodded as he listened to her, feeling relieved that she was interested in having kids. He felt a sense of relief hearing her say that. He took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze, looking into her eyes. "Yeah me too. I'd love to have a family someday with you. Hopefully it happens for us."

"I know it will baby"she said with a gentle smile

He smiled softly as she spoke, feeling his heart flutter as she said it. "You really think so?" He said softly, feeling hope begin to build up in him but also fearing that it may not happen.

*Of course". She says wrapping her arms around his waist. Frankie placed his arms around her, holding her close as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I sure hope you're right, baby." He whispered softly, his lips brushing against her hair.

"I love you... Thank you for your support and respect " she said looking up at him with admiration.

Frankie smiled as he held her close, feeling his heart swell with love as she thanked him. "I love you too. And you're welcome, baby. I know how much this means to Zara and Jon, and I respect that. And I respect your decision to be their surrogate."

She lays her head against his chest and closes her eyes. Frankie held her close, gently rubbing her back as she laid her head against his chest, feeling her body relax against his. He gently kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes, savoring the moment with her.

Part 2 coming soon

[nny11writes]

Nunny! I'm sending you asks for your game.

I'm tempted to send you the entire post and just see the Nunny Rant. You might not even do She-ra. I'm thinking of She-ra sending these but go off about star wars or something else if you think it applies better to the question :D

the character everyone gets wrong (ahahhahahaaaaaaaaa)

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about (im sure there is a long list)

9 and 10 - Worst part of fanon and worst part of canon (imo there is some overlap)

13. worst blorboficiation

14. that one thing you see in fics all the time

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

lakhglkajfas, I think my rant would mostly just be keyboard smashes and crying emojis so this is the better way to go lol!

the character everyone gets wrong God, like, fucking- ALL of them. :) Buuuuuut the one that's bugging me the most recently is Mermista.

I am SO sick of post canon Mermista in c/a fics specifically. Mermista would not hold a grudge that hard that long and that violently!!! Stop having her hate Catra and actively be out to do harm to her. Mermista's response to losing her kingdom was like a bad breakup where she just cried in a tub eating ice cream. Her response to seeing HORDAK at the end of the series was just a, "So are we good with him now?" implying that she's chill to be chill.

Mermista and Catra 100% would sit at a table calling one another a bitch (begrudgingly fond and pretend to not be) back and forth. Mermista would not be out to skin Catra alive! Mermista wants to talk to Catra about her murder novels because Perfuma reads too slowly and doesn't like spoilers but she NEEDS to talk to someone about the butler who has a brain cell because Sea Hawk seemed to miss the whole first half of the book AND FURTHER MORE-

9. and 10. - Worst part of fanon and worst part of canon

Worst part of fanon is the fucking shippers. This went from one of the more open and accepting fandoms for all ships that I'd ever been in to one of the worst.

Like, straight up, one of the fics that lives rent free in my head is an explicit fic where Catra and Hordak enthusiastically consent to having sex. Like Hordak is trying to be kinda standoffish but can't stop looking at boob window tits, he was Entrapta trained I'm afraid. The number of times I think of his awkward proposing they do it more frequently followed shortly by Catra dressing and winking saying, "Seriously, great cock!" is a lot lol. It's such a porn movie style fic and there is something fantastic to be said about it.

But you even hint that Catra could be headcanonned as anything besides a lesbian and your body will be found in a few months time in several different bags. Suggesting Catra and Hordak having any romantic or sexual relationship probably gets you reported to the fucking government or something. So there's a reason it's never made a rec list from me but fuck it I'm mentioning it now.

They aren't real. If I want to occasionally have a giggle about them and make my little dolls bump uglies everyone else should politely not look while my fellow weirdly sane people who get that this is all make believe but sure we're the freaks here come poke and enjoy!

Fucking shipping wars and discourse man. I'm sick of it.

Worst part of canon for me is the censorship and uncertainty that caused various issues with the plot and prevented the show from being even stronger. You can see it in real time while watching, but man it was wild in December 2018 to see how professional media talked about the show and Catra and Adora being adoptive sisters, to AJ (I think?) getting dumped on for repeating that idea and having to apologize, to the open gayness at the end. I love SPOP, but the rocky terrain the crew-ra had to navigate really did impact the quality and created weird gaps that asshole fans hunkered down into. Like, we cannot pry some of those fuckers out.

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

I need you to understand that my immediate response when I started writing this answer out was a very strained and painful sigh through my nose as my brain returned a static white noise sound.

I am really tired of forcing this jock!Adora and slacker!Catra thing. Like, it started in modern AUs but it's gone and infected people's idea of canon as well. It falls into a bit of the "dumb adora" trope, which people just don't seem to actually understand what that means or is about. It also falls into Shadow Weaver's narrative of who Catra is which is wild. Like. Really wild.

You are telling me Catra, a cat person who grew up in a military, is actively against exercise? Yes, she would 100% sleep in a sunbeam for a nap, and then she wakes up and craves some low key chaos and violence.

You are telling me Adora, forced into a golden child and leadership position, is bad at reading and math and science because all she cares about is training? Adora 100% enjoys physical fitness and using her body, but she's got a sharp mind on her and there's no way in hell she doesn't like to work it too.

I am just exhausted with it in modern AUs, and now it has gone to infect canon interpretations. It flattens their characters out, ignores/denies parts of their abuse, and nukes their abilities from orbit. I hate it so so much.

Also if I have to see one more fic or art piece where Catra is willingly and happily wearing dresses, skirts, and heels I swear to fucking god I will KILL. :)

13. worst blorboficiation

Again, this is all of them. Everyone suffers from being blorbo'd to an insane degree, but it just shifts depending on which character is the favorite of that part of the fandom. You have talked several times about the insanity of Catra fans vs. Hordak fans, the blorboification is insane there. Same with Catra fans vs. Glimmer fans.

Like. God damn. I'm so glad the Adora vs. Catra fan fights died out real quick because this fandom is exhausting enough.

With Catra being my favorite it's extra exhausting because there is CONSTANTLY people attacking her and then total asshats trying to defend her who I do not want to be associated with. I love her. She's a fucking idiot and a bastard and a baby. Somehow, every take on her is both the worst and factually correct and then the fandom fights.

Tipsy, I. Am. Tired.

14. that one thing you see in fics all the time

OKAY

Let's fucking talk about how GLIMMER IS NOT AN EVIL BITCH. Can we talk about that? STOP TRYING TO LEAVE THIS POST AND SIT YOUR ASS DOWN WE'RE TALKING ABOUT THIS AGAIN because someone needs to hear it louder in the back.

Glimmer is the character who is probably be done the dirtiest by the fandom but for wildly different reasons throughout the whole show. Hands down.

After S1 fandom took Glimmer and made her into an entitled dumbass whiner who threw money and her titles at her problems. They made her act like a child without any complexity. And it 100% took me from not really liking her character much to detesting her which is outrageous every time I remember that I kinda hated her at that point.

This did not improve post S2. :)

Post S3 probably was the most sympathetic and understanding the fandom was to Glimmer but it came at the cost of trying to bulldoze Catra for the Portal and people making callout posts like these characters were real people. I feel like the rise of some of the G/A shippers that I really can't stand was around this time. It was catra vs. glimmer fans going bat shit and drawing lines for ships.

If they couldn't assassinate Glimmer's character, by god the fandom would assassinate both Catra and Adora's in wildly different ways instead!

Do I need to talk about post S4? The idea of dark Glimmer and Glimmer going off the rails should have been a fun thing to play with in the sandbox and instead just writing it down made me cringe. Now Glimmer has to be an evil bitch because she had a trauma response and made bad decisions, now she is irredeemable because I made up a situation where she did something she didn't in canon for reasons so OOC someone probably slapped Donut Steel on it somewhere.

There was a little lift post series, but man people are holding onto Glimmer being a spoiled brat to play off of for Catra or a cruel bitch for Catra and, again, as a Catra fan, I want to bite bite kill kill bite kill kill kill!!!

Glimmer is allowed to grow up from being a spoiled kid who had good intentions and was naive. She is allowed to be over eager, bratty, petty, silly, funny, caring, and smart too. She's allowed to make bad choices and struggle with how to recover from it.

STOP MAKING ME THE LEAVE BRITTNEY ALONE MEME FOR GLIMMER

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

Shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs, shut up about redemption arcs-

[bnha-imagines-only]

My Hero: The Dating Sim - Shouto Todoroki

A/N: So… best way to explain this, I was playing Harvest Moon, and I wondered what MHA would be like as that style dating sim, where you run around and during certain times you get specific dialogue or trigger certain events, and their expressions change between a select few things.

This is basically a mock-walkthrough like you can find on the internet for dating sims. I plan to make it a series. 😊

CW: Casual spoilers up through the licensing arc

Intro: … Have we met? No? I’m Shouto Todoroki… (annoyed) Yes, Endeavor’s son.

Hated Gift: This is supposed to be for me?

Disliked Gift: I don’t want this.

Neutral Gift: I could probably use this. Thanks.

Liked Gift: Is it… a holiday? Should I have gotten you something?

Loved Gift: It’s not my birthday, so…? You… want me to have it anyway? (Pleased) You’re surprisingly kind-natured.

During Class Hours:

• The teacher is glaring at you. Better sit down.

Gray Heart Dialogue:

• …Hmm?

• Team training is a waste of time. It would be more efficient if Aizawa-sensei let me handle tasks alone.

• Gray Heart Event: Shouto is training alone, you offer to join him.

• I don’t need your help. You would only get in the way. …! What? No, I’m not saying that to be impolite. (Somber) Training is easier if I don’t have to think about not injuring you.

Response A: You sure? I’m pretty tough, you know.

• (Annoyed) You know who I am, right? Is that why you’re bothering me?

Response B: More like real life that way! Besides, tedious things are more fun with company.

• …I don’t know about all that, but I suppose I can’t take up the entire training hall.

Purple Heart Dialogue:

• What do you want?

• …How am I? Fine. …I’m supposed to ask you it back…? (Somber) Don’t call me rude.

Blue Heart Dialogue:

• How are you?

• You see? I’m not rude. …! (Somber) What do you mean only saying it to appear polite is impolite?!

• Blue Heart Event: Your team loses the cavalry battle.

• It makes sense that you didn’t advance, you are still not very experienced. (Shocked) Er, that came out wrong, I meant…

Response A: That I’m not very good, right?

• (Annoyed) Inexperienced doesn’t mean bad. You’ll get stronger.

Response B: That I shouldn’t be so hard on myself because it’s our first year, right?

• (Pleased) Yes. Work hard and try again next year.

Green Heart Dialogue:

• I couldn’t win the festival with only my ice quirk. That means I have a long way to go to be the kind of hero I want to be.

• Are you planning to go to the training courses today? I’ll see you there.

Date Prompt (After Green Heart):

• Hey, before you go, I was wondering… Do you like food? Together, after school, we could—There is a noodle place downtown with very good reviews.

Response A: Sounds like fun, we should go!

• (Pleased) Great. It will be a nice change of pace from sparring.

Response B: Are we just going to breeze past ‘Do you like food’?

• I’m not the best at this, but I was trying to ask you on a date. Never mind. (Game Over)

Date:

• The food is delicious. It’s nice to take a break from training, but my father gets annoyed when I don’t follow the regimen.

Response A: Maybe we shouldn’t have come?

• (Annoyed) It’s fine, let him be annoyed.

Response B: Everyone needs a break sometimes.

• (Pleased) You’re right, thank you for joining me.

• Can I ask why you wanted to join the Hero Course? Er… Was that abrupt? I’m not very good at small talk.

Response A: I’ve always wanted to make people feel safe.

• (Pleased) That makes sense, you have a comforting quality about you.

Response B: I’ve always wanted to be famous.

• (Somber) I don’t think fame is all it’s cracked up to be.

• …Why did I want to become a hero? Well… It’s what I was raised to do, that’s true, but I… At the end of the day, I do want to help people. Some of my happiest memories are with my mom, watching All Might save people on television. My father was never that hero to me, not in the same way.

Response A: You want to be a hero that carves your own niche.

• Yes, well… (Pleased) We’ll both have to do our best.

Response B: You want to be a hero that’s the opposite of your father.

• (Annoyed) I don’t want the entirety of my career to revolve around him.

• Ah! It’s getting late, don’t you think? We should probably get going.

Yellow Heart Dialogue:

• Hopefully our festival performance can help put everyone at ease.

• Though, I think you’re more suitable to it than I am.

Orange Heart Dialogue:

• I have to take remedial classes for the licensing.

• Of course, I want to be licensed as quickly as possible, but that means I have less time around the dorms. (Somber) …Once I’m done, we’ll have more time to train together again.

Red Heart Dialogue:

• Do you want to train together after class?

• (Somber) Maybe food after? Training always seems to end so fast.

End Event: Shouto greets you as you exit your dorm.

• Could I… talk to you for a moment? Alone? (Takes you to the training grounds) To be completely honest, I hate it when training is over. Er. That’s not what I’m trying to say… I wonder about what lies ahead of us, and with internships and everything going on…

Response A: I’ll still be around! As pros, we can always arrange to team up, can’t we?

• (Pleased) Yes, but I was hoping… that you could rely on me a bit more. I know that managing our careers won’t be easy, but I also know that I would regret not asking you to consider me as a boyfriend. (Happy Ending)

Response B: It’ll be sad, but we should focus on our careers and be the best heroes we can be!

• (Somber) Of course. (Normal) We’ll still see each other from time to time, I’m sure. I’ll be cheering you on, I hope you will do the same for me. (Normal Ending)

…

If there’s a character you’d like to see one of these for, please feel free to request it, my inbox is open. Otherwise, my inbox is also open for imagines and headcanons. 🥰

[gemwing1988]

Validor TV Tropes

Warning, this fanmade tropes contain spoilers of a character yet to make his debut in the third season of The Cuphead Show: Dreamstones Edition. Read with care.

A young dragon from The Legend of Spyro universe and wound up on the Inkwell Isles when a rift mysteriously tore open and pulled him in and Katie’s eventual boyfriend. He is an Ice-Shadow Dragon hybrid, who is a kind, sweet and well-mannered gentleman as well as a loyal friend, a good older brother and a devoted boyfriend. He will do everything in his power to protect his beloved from the literal Devil himself while trying to figure out a way home.

Academic Athlete: Validor is a terrific marksman when it comes to his elements, a strong and agile flyer and a capable fighter. He also proves his intelligence and vast knowledge such as solving riddles and reciting the history of his race. The Ace:

Actually Pretty Funny:

Validor laughed along with the rest of the heroes when Natty mentioned about the number of times the Devil gets zapped by the invisible sweater and the special charms Misterie had given to Katie and Lexie.

There is also something funny about Katie often nicknaming the Devil “Luci”.

Aerith and Bob: With the main trio boyfriends, we have Liam, Andrew and… Validor.

Affectionate Nickname:

He is often called Vale for short among his friends.

He mentioned that his younger sisters calls him “Valey”.

All-Loving Hero:

All of the Other Reindeer: Subverted. While he does have a handful of friends and he is well-accepted by the other dragons, Validor does have his share of social struggles with at least a couple of bullies who have zero opinions of him being partly a Shadow Dragon. But none of that interferes with his studies and his life.

Always Save the Girl:

Always Someone Better: The Devil sees him as this when it concerns winning Katie’s heart.

Amazon Chaser: Downplayed. Aside from her kindness, wit and creativity, Validor is awed by Katie’s prowess when she beats the mess out of the Devil when she was highlighted by her ice element and the moonlight. He also commented on how unbelievably brave she can be.

Ambiguously Brown: His human form/disguise has lightly tanned skin similar to Natty’s.

Artists Are More Attractive: He’s quite an artistic fellow from his mother’s side, who had been an artist herself.

Bash Brothers:

With Liam and Andrew.

Also with the game!Cuphead and Mugman.

He can also be this with TLoS Spyro.

Battle Couple: With Katie.

Beautiful Singing Voice: He has such a handsome voice when it comes to singing. Really he does.

Berserk Button: While he doesn’t lose his cool, Validor still has his share of having sore spots.

He greatly hates people who have Fantastic Racism towards others, whether they’d be human or Dragon.

His compass is of great sentimental value, so it is most unwise to either steal or break it.

Threatening and bullying his girlfriend is a surefire to set him off.

Most importantly, it is strongly advised not to threaten or hurt his family and friends.

Beware My Stinger Tail: He can encase his tail in ice and use it like a sword.

Beware the Nice Ones: He’s a very kind, polite and well-mannered gentleman of a dragon. But while he’s calm and gentle as a mild flurry, he can be strongly fierce like a blizzard should his friends and loved ones get hurt and/or threatened.

Big Brother Instincts: Being an older brother of two sisters, he has these big time.

Big Brother Mentor: He mentioned about helping his sisters master their ice element.

Birds of a Feather:

Blue is Heroic: He has a blue underbelly and blue wings. And is purely a good guy.

Blue Means Cold: He has some icy blue in his colouring and he masters the Ice element.

Bluff the Imposter: When the Devil kidnaps Katie and replaces her with a clone, Validor was able to reveal the clone is a fake by asking her about he and the real Katie had met.

Breath Weapon: As a dragon, he’s able to breath ice and flame-like shadows.

Brutal Honesty: As nice as he is, there are times that even Validor isn’t afraid of delivering cold hard truths on people who are in the wrong such as calling an old bully out for putting his friends down all the while gloating about himself.

Bully Hunter:

Casting a Shadow: As a Shadow Dragon, he can breathe flame-like shadows, empower his claws with shadows and dive into his own shadow.

Character Tics: He often touches his compass when he feels a bit homesick or when he thinks about his family, mostly about his Disappeared Dad.

Cool Big Bro: He is a caring brother to his two younger sisters.

Cultured Hardcore:

Dark is Not Evil: He is half-Shadow Dragon with dark scales and one of his main elements is Shadow but he is a Nice Guy and one of the purest hearted dragons you would have the pleasure to meet.

Death Glare: As nice and mellow as he is, he’s still isn’t above giving a cold and piercing glare should someone get on his bad side.

Determinator:

Did You Just Punch Out Cthulhu?:

Disappeared Dad: His father is an explorer and had gone missing during an expedition. It’s left ambiguous if he’s still alive or not. The only thing Vale had to remember him since they’ve last seen each other is the old compass he inherited from his father before his departure.

Does Not Like Spam:

Vale doesn’t like calamari.

Much like his girlfriend, he hates mushrooms.

Being half-Ice Dragon, he’s not a fan of extremely spicy foods.

Since he tried his hand at drinking coffee, he immediately didn’t like it due to how bitter it tastes.

Dude in Distress: Rarely, mostly when it concerns being exposed to a Dark Crystal cluster and it zaps away at his energy.

Embarrassing Nickname:

Surprisingly, not from his friends or family, but rather from the Devil, who spitefully calls him “Frosty”. Although it doesn’t bother him very much, Validor is still mildly annoyed by the Devil using this as a constant Malicious Misnaming since it comes off a little less… creative.

The idea of people callously calling him “Validork” doesn’t sit well with him.

Even Loving Heroes Have Hated Ones:

Neither his girlfriend nor any of their friends can blame Vale for deeply despising King Dice for all the times the Devil’s right hand man comes onto Lexie and tries to come in between her and Liam.

Anubis doesn’t sit well with him concerning the same thing with Natty and Andrew.

Given his history to be just as much as a sleaze as King Dice, Hector Wolfe had certainly earned his place on Vale’s list.

Expy: His mixed ancestry is heavily inspired by Balto from the movie of the same name.

Fish Out Water: Since he is a dragon from another world which there aren’t hardly any modern (or semi-modern since the Isles is set in the 30s) technology, save for steam trains, Vale has a lot of things to learn and understand.

Foil: In some ways, he is to Liam, Lexie’s boyfriend. They both have a Meaningful Name that means “protecter” in a certain language, have younger siblings who are still children and both are kind, caring and protective boyfriends. But while Liam can be a little hotheaded and loses his cool whenever King Dice gets under his skin by just coming onto Lexie, Validor goes through a cold take on Tranquil Fury before he delivers the hurt on the Devil when he tries to make advances on Katie.

A Friend in Need:

Friendless Background: A mild subversion. Granted, he had some friends back in school and he still keeps in contact with them every now and them, he still had some difficulties fitting in with some schoolmates due to his Shadow Dragon heritage since dragons of such a dark element are rarely common.

Friend to All Children: It helps that he has two younger sisters back home.

Genius Bruiser:

A Gentleman and a Scholar:

Good Cannot Comprehend Evil:

Hardcore Bookworm He’s a very well-read young dragon with a shared love for books and is capable of knocking enemies into next week.

Hardcore in Distress: While he is capable fighter, Validor can sometimes unwillingly grab this ball whenever he’s dangerously near a Dark Crystal cluster, a dark gem that is said to drain a dragon of its strength and energy just by prolonging any close range exposure to it. They are only found in the Dragon Realm and how the Devil’s often able to get his hands on a handful of some is a mystery.

The Heart: In some sense, he is this to Liam and Andrew whenever they are in an episode that centres them rescuing their girlfriends whenever they are kidnapped and at the mercy of their unwanted suitors.

Hidden Depths:

Horn Attack: Like most dragons, he can jab and charge at enemies with his horns.

Humble Hero: Katie greatly admires his modest and humble nature.

An Ice Person: An Ice Dragon to be precise on his mother’s side. He can spit orbs or jets of ice as well as spin around to create a snowstorm. He can weaponise his tail by encasing it in ice and use it like a sword.

In-Series Nickname: Often answers to the nickname, Vale.

Interspecies Romance: Even though he’s a hybrid of two dragons of different elements, he’s still a pure-blooded dragon romantically involved with a human who is half-dragon.

Knight in Shining Armour: Whenever Katie often finds herself in a jam where she’s a Damsel In Distress at its mildly worst, Validor will always come to her aid, all the while sweeping her off her feet.

Long-Haired Pretty Boy: His human disguise is a handsome young man with mid back-length dark blue-black hair.

Love Interest: Towards Katie in Season 3 of The Cuphead Show: Dreamstones Edition.

Love Interest Vs. Lust Interest: He is the Love Interest to the Devil’s Lust Interest towrds Katie. Vale cares for Katie for her kindness and courage and takes their relationship one step at a time. The Devil on the other hand, treats Katie like a prize to be won and desires to use her magic for his selfish and wicked benefits to conquer the Isles.

Meaningful Name: Validor comes from the word, “Valedor”, which means “protector” in Spanish. It certainly fits a dragon who is protective of his Love Interest and is a devoted brother to his little sisters.

Man Bites Man: With him being a dragon, he’s got quite a bite on him when it concerns enemies.

Martial Pacifist:

Meet Cute:

Mellow Fellow: He’s usually the most calm and cool-headed out of the main three boyfriends. As long as nothing like the Devil harassing his friends and trying to steal his girl doesn’t set him off, he’s normally as cool as his element.

Momma’s Boy: Downplayed. When he was just a hatchling, he loves both his parents equally. Growing up, he had always looked up to his father to the point of being best friends. And since his dad’s Ambiguous Situation of being absent, Validor is slightly closer to his mother and helps around their home and to raise his sisters.

Nice Guy: He is a kind and well-mannered gentleman who always has everyone’s best interests at heart and he takes all the wackiness on the Inkwell Isles in strides.

Not Above It All: While he’s purely a Nice Guy, even Validor isn’t above having a snarky side to himself every now and then when necessary.

Official Couple: In Season 3 of The Cuphead Show, he and Katie really hit it off.

The Rival: As Katie’s boyfriend, Validor is at odds with both versions of the Devil from the Cuphead franchise as well as Leviathius.

Serenade Your Lover:

Shadow Walker: One of his abilities is to leap into his own shadow to move underneath enemies and then attack them from below either with claws or jumping out, sending all nearby foes flying around.

Tail Slap: Aside from his horns, claws and wings, he can use his tail as an extra limb to smack at opponents or slap them away.

Tall, Dark and Handsome: While he’s just as handsome in his true form, his human disguise is a head taller than Katie with dark hair and lightly dark skin, and is very attractive to boot.

Team Dad: As he’s about the same age as Katie in human years, Validor is basically the oldest of the boyfriend trio and can be quite fatherly.

Trademark Favourite Food:

It’s a little known fact that he loves coconut.

He seems to be rather partial to tuna. Katie had turned him onto cheddar and tuna baguettes.

He alternates between coconut, mint chocolate chip and vanilla ice cream.

Tragic Keepsake: It’s left to debate if he’s still alive or not after going missing on his expedition but his father’s old compass with a photo of his family would still count.

Transformation Trinket: Misterie makes him a special bracelet to enable him to take on a human form to blend in among humans in certain dimensions or the Real World.

Tranquil Fury: While he’s usually calm and more level-headed, Vale can still get angry should a Berserk Button or two is pushed. He will normally give out a death Glare while warning off a villain, jerk or bully to back off before he delivers the hurt if they don’t listen.

Understanding Boyfriend: Validor is sweet, patient and understanding as can be. He loves Katie, flaws and all he is always quick to know that she is a victim of circumstances, especially whenever the Devil attempts to sabotage and undermine their relationship.

Undying Loyalty: To his friends and loved ones.

Violently Protective Boyfriend: He’s usually a chilled Nice Guy but he’s still a dragon with a fierce side to himself. He can be just as angry should the worst people were to speak poorly of his family and friends, even insulting about his Disappeared Dad. But… whether if it’s the Devil trying kidnap and forcefully marry Katie or if it’s a jerk threatening or bullying her, he’s going to give them more than the cold shoulder. Beware the Nice Ones indeed.

What Beautiful Eyes!: Katie shyly complimented about his teal eyes, mentioning she likes them. It is often mentioned in some of his descriptions that his eyes are like aquamarines.

Wise Beyond His Years:

[audible--silence]

Sayu/GDL quotes / promises to self while drunk as shit

Que eres un baño?!

“Im so used to shit going wrong that it just doesnt phase me anymore”

“If i go into an office job id have to wake up in the morning, which i just don't wanna do”

A bar without a manager

Nothing feels better than going home but nothing feels better than leaving home too.

“Be a traveler not a tourist”

“I been keepin busy! No idea what with though. I just been smokin joints playing guitar and surfing”

One more bus

One more uber

One more hostel check in

One more round of storytelling how we got here

One more gig

A few more beers

Una mas cerveza

One more night

Una mas noche

No more waves

No more taco stands

No more in jokes

No more calling directions in spanish

No more setting up the tent in excitement

No more packing down the tent in a hurry

No more Duolingo sessions in a hammock

No more chess games

No more joints rolled at the last minute

No more joints smoked at all hours of the day

No more “you hungry?”

No more tracking down vegetables

No more long bus rides spent sharing snacks

No more movies on your shit tablet

No more pringles, principe and stoner snacks

No more reminding each other to get our shit together

No more jamming guitar

No dancing while doing simple tasks

No more of your tunes

No more guac n beer

No more two aussie dickheads

“Phone wallet shoes nothing on my head that im gonna lose”

“Adios Cabron”

“His drip dope, you gotta be 70% homeless, 20% gay to be fly”

“Whats the 10%?”

“Opium”

“Stoner! I choose you!!”

“Yeah well, fuck off” on cross cultural relatability

hope is a hell of a drug

The enemy was defeated, in a valiant battle with three little Mexican girls with long hair and cute gold glasses, not far from the stargazers, at midday, with ice cream. Or the youthful romantics, an archetype that seems to transcend every culture since society itself. Watched on in silence by the cute, erratic yet robotic, overly friendly squirrels. A picnic without snacks, soundtracked by Jeff Buckley in the shade of a well watered bush

Manifestation is gaslighting yourself

The heat of hell is ever so slightly warmer for you isnt it”

“You sound like a constitution”

“We need to rebrand politics but with much more sex”

“Dont smoke”

W dart in mouth

“A bar for a football team that never wins, for fans that never succeed”

“If you commit suicide you cant go to the pub”

a british guy

“Yeah but if you commit suicide, guess where we go? The fucking pub”

another british guy

A game of football can mean two very different things depending on who’s watching

A taco is only as a good as what you can put on it

Am i going to regret not going out? Enjoying it all? Being young n stupid in Mexico and everywhere else?

Will I regret not knowing what any of these drunk messages to self mean? Probably.

Booze is fuel for survival. I am a bartender who hates going out. A socialite who cannot stand socializing.

words from a drunk aus fuck in Mexico, solo, with a kiss on the cheek and a cuddle”

“Its fuxkin mexixo ya prick”- on uber eats, n walkin for street food

2.12 - the minute of the end of the phonecall w ya nan, the only pure soul left in ya life

Thanks for finding me phone - from a welsh cunt who likes flashing his dick

I love thinking while drunk because I don’t have to deal with the realizations

Chinga su madre but with a car horn

“We’ve literally sat down all day”

“Thats what traveling is about. Traveling halfway across the world just to sit down”

dive bars, tacos with drunks and adele on the roof till 4am

“I dont identify as American I identify as a marxist”

The more decrepit and dilapidated the restaurant looks, the better the food is.

Weathered hands make the food, not fresh paint on the walls

“Theres more to life than dating everyone you meet, i guess”

“I either need tequila or a sweater and im not sure which it is”

“The cartels comin” shoot ya drink

“You look good bro!”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, he’s just happy”

deja vu from a rooftop w some beautiful Mexicanos in GDL

“How dare you show so much grace so many time zones away”

feel like we gon spend the rest our lives searching for the thrill of skating to the ellenbrook hungry jacks at midnight for snacks while on a videogame bender

Lessons from seeing your favorite band in a new place: It’s better with your friends. In the place you came to love them, even if its less fun

“We have this saying in Mexico that says “Las bonitas tambien quiermbaila“ which means “the pretty woman also wants to dance”

[rametarin]

Imagine a person..

The sort of person that walks into a D&D campaign, or any place centered for nerds on high fantasy, and the conversation they want to have is that, castles and monarchy are bad, and therefore, bad culture and bad influence on society.

So they demand putting in big disgusting notes at the start talking about, “CERTAIN UNDESIRABLE GROUPS sure have been whooping up monarchy and racism lately, huh! The feudal times were actually horrible and unequal and a terror, and we should stop idolizing them beyond nostalgia for [beloved book series that’s on thin ice but politically inexpedient to trash on without losing the audience]”

Then they start to suggest, ohhh, I dunno, fantasy settings with more.. I dunno.. just spitballin’.. anarcho-syndicalist or socialist themes maybe? Or mythological tribespeople with weird cultures on equality, something about ‘critical lenses’ maybe, and advice on why you should want to involve many cultures in your games and stories, but not allow anyone to play as them unless they’re the appropriate racial background in real life.

Yeah it’s irritating. But it’s also fucking ridiculous and presumptuous. You know whom you sound like when you do this?

How so? Okay,

what other presumptive ass would walk in on a bunch of nerds and tell them they’re FANTASY GOVERNMENT IN THEIR YE OLDE TIMEY MEDIEVAL EUROPEAN FANTASY GAME AND FRANCHISE WRONG? And then have the audacity to demand maybe OHHHH I DUNNO... CONSTITUTIONALIST FEDERAL GOVERNMENT HAVING REPUBLIC, WITH REPRESENTATIVE DEMOCRACY?

Having the gall to tell them they, “shouldn’t idolize dead kings and should get a REAL government system in their imaginationland.” Because, “kings and royalty are for wusses and communists.”

You might be going, “THAT’S TOTALLY DIFFERENT FROM WHEN I DO IT!” and. no it isn’t.

D&D and fantasy fiction use mythological past to stimulate the mind and actually learn about history, just to mythologize it. Of course feudalism was actually terrible. Romance of some things, particularly pirates for example, is terrible. But the people marching up this hill to make a fuss and try to pull a silk screen over peoples hearts and minds to manipulate them know publishing academic hitpieces, calling women out on their romanticizing pirates in novels and fiction, would make them terribly unpopular and rend their target audience dumb to their voice.

When fantasy utilizes the romantic image of the monarchy, they are NOT sponsoring monarchism, oh my fucking god. This disgusting fiction exists for nothing else than to justify treating aspects of media and culture the way tribes and nations treat features of geography for area denial from the enemy, to keep them thirsty, to starve them, to give them nowhere to live. I’m so tired of it not being understood that these people are behaving and thinking like this specifically for this tactic and outcome. Gatekeeping and ownership of the entire fandom of production and consumption of stories and fiction and art.

That’s authoritarian and tyrannical, and trying to use postmodernist nonsense the way religious moralists bandy about their religious text as if it were a book of facts for their undesired opinions.

Also popular is talking about how, “you know how European culture is specifically racist and all their fantasy creatures are just expressions of xenophobia, right? Orcs are ‘swarthy’ dangerous barbarian foreigners. black people! Those racist Europeans!”

Boiling down and tainting all European history to just, “white people are conceited monsters who unlike everybody else, hated everybody that was not their chosen people.” The least historical and most unflattering interpretation of culture and mythology you can have, done purely to invalidate and delegitimize a thing.

They invite other groups of people to accept this interpretation for two reasons. Firstly, it gives them cultural power to interpret things as true or false. That is a kind of power. Second, it gives different political entiites a popular (if incorrect) imagery to treat as true when dealing with European or people that are descended from them. And in theory since these people claim to be SoooOooOooOO protective of “persons of color,” this relationship can never go bad, can it?

Wrong. That’s not how people that think like this work. In conventional Marxism, the Marxists start spreading propaganda and working backwards with people to demand upon them even imaginary common ground they can agree on. Such as, “Ryan is an asshole because-”. Then they keep doing that, until the group reach consensus Ryan is an asshole, at least they can agree on THAT, and decides to kill Ryan. They make him dig his own hole, then put a bullet in his head and bury him.

And then the Marxist does the same thing to the next runner up, Michael, progressively assassinating the character of the competition without directly competing with them, getting the other participants to do his dirty work for him.

It start with, “all white people are racist.” When white people are no longer the scapegoats, then the same people that clawed their way up claiming to, “only care about racial and sexual justice!” and that white men embody the worst elements of both, suddenly switch to the next nearest, “oppressive majority.”

And they train youth to do this inter-community. So on the macro scale they’ll at least pay lip service to caring about Native American culture and religion and identity. On the micro scale, if they were being honest, they’d call many Native American tribes racist, most Native American cultures sexist, and tell them they don’t care what their history or traditions or culture say- they’re doing them wrong unless they do whatever the postmodernist socialist thinks is correct.

They didn’t USED to be so bold and broad with their terms for racism. They at least used to maintain a doublethink by the positive liberals that would say, “all racism is wrong,” while carefully using non-discussion and not allowing arguments or probing these thought destroying statements to prevent them asking if they’re saying non-whites are incapable of “being racist.”

The truth was they always believed racism was tied to class struggle theory and that meant white people were oppressors, thus racism was “the phenomenon of oppression living under a white majority with capitalism.” But the more general, palatable interpretation was, “racial discrimination bad. :)” With a million unseen and inaccessible asterisks that you WEREN’T SUPPOSED to even see to further ask them to clarify about.

But then they realized with the internet, people could trace the social lines back to sociology classes and professors and see the organization and institutions preaching this shit, even find the textbooks they’re printed in. So, they started being more upfront about it.

Before, they would’ve just avoided talking about it and let the other person give them the benefit of the doubt. SURELY, they didn’t mean, “all white people are racist/black and Asian people are incapable of racism,” right? When, yes, they did. Hiding in the ambiguities and things you’d never imagine they’d be implying in practice.

However, that’s just one step. Vilifying white people until white people are denied access or legitimacy to society because of their ethnic background isn’t the final step. Once whites are denied franchise just on the basis that being white is oppressive to others, then they’ll start trash talking the next minority as being the in-power majority; probably Asians, seeing as black people are the biggest sacred cows when it comes to racial discrimination, not just in the US, but globally. Then the generational story will be, “our beliefs weren’t complete. Also [other group] are bastards and their culture and heritage are imaginary trash, too.”

And so on. Presenting this as, “white people bad, we should gang up on them and do justice” is merely a means to an end for them. Sugar on medicine that sits in wait. Even if the next step is introduced 20 years from now.

So in short, these people are not the people you want to give the power to interpret fiction and fantasy, or gatekeep what is appropriate or not. They are not forthcoming, most of the time, and confuse THEIR good with true good on purpose. And believe so long as the book they’re drawing their absolutes from isn’t a religious text, but a sociology one, that it’s somehow more valid or empirical.

And they have no more weight to their bullshit than Stan Smith does, demanding our fantasy stories and romantic genres revolve around his idea of a “correct, moral and upstanding government and social values.” for the exact same reasons Stan would want to impose those on his son’s games.

[hollymbryan]

Blog Tour: Top 5 Reasons to Read THE BLACK QUEEN by Jumata Emill!

Hello, and welcome to Book-Keeping! I’m excited today to be part of the TBR & Beyond Tours blog tour for The Black Queen by Jumata Emill! 

About the Book

title: The Black Queen author: Jumata Emill publisher: Delacorte Press release date: 31 January 2023

Nova Albright was going to be the first Black homecoming queen at Lovett High—but now she’s dead. Murdered on coronation night. Fans of One of Us Is Lying and The Other Black Girl will love this unputdownable thriller.

Nova Albright, the first Black homecoming queen at Lovett High, is dead. Murdered the night of her coronation, her body found the next morning in the old slave cemetery she spent her weekends rehabilitating.

Tinsley McArthur was supposed to be queen. Not only is she beautiful, wealthy, and white, it’s her legacy—her grandmother, her mother, and even her sister wore the crown before her. Everyone in Lovett knows Tinsley would do anything to carry on the McArthur tradition.

No one is more certain of that than Duchess Simmons, Nova’s best friend. Duchess’s father is the first Black police captain in Lovett. For Duchess, Nova’s crown was more than just a win for Nova. It was a win for all the Black kids. Now her best friend is dead, and her father won’t fact the fact that the main suspect is right in front of him. Duchess is convinced that Tinsley killed Nova—and that Tinsley is privileged enough to think she can get away with it. But Duchess’s father seems to be doing what he always does: fall behind the blue line. Which means that the white girl is going to walk.

Duchess is determined to prove Tinsley’s guilt. And to do that, she’ll have to get close to her.

But Tinsley has an agenda, too.

Everyone loved Nova. And sometimes, love is exactly what gets you killed.

Add to Goodreads: The Black Queen Purchase the Book: Amazon | B&N | Book Depository | Indigo | Indiebound

About the Author

Jumata is a journalist who has covered crime and local politics in Mississippi and parts of Louisiana. He earned his B.A. in mass communications from Southern University and A&M College. He’s a Pitch Wars alum and member of the Crime Writers of Color. When he’s not writing about murderous teens, he’s watching and obsessively tweeting about every franchise of the Real Housewives. Jumata lives in Baton Rouge, La.

Connect with Jumata: Website | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Facebook

Top 5 Reasons to Read The Black Queen

1. Small-town secrets and lies, and examination of how they reverberate through generations

“Hate does something to you if you hold onto it for too long. It can turn you into the very thing you’ve been taught to loathe. ... All of it poisoned me. ... That night in my mother’s car changed everything. Made me realize how we’ve both suffered and been affected by the sins and expectations of our parents.” (p. 384-385)

2. Exploration of racism in the Deep South

“Separate but equal is still as Southern as iced tea.” (p. 15)

3. Exploration of grief, what it means to lose someone as a teenager/young adult

“Nothing sounds good enough to say in front of who knows how many people at tonight’s game. Nothing I’ve scribbled down so far feels like me. Or her, for that matter. 

“This is why teenagers shouldn’t have to eulogize our friends. We’re supposed to have more time to get this right.” (p. 284)

4. Real talk about how white people respond to accusations of racism, whether systemic or individual, overt or unintentional

“Why is it that every time a white person gets called out about their mistreatment of us, they flip the script by accusing *us* of ruining *their* lives by having the nerve to not sit back and take it?” (p. 250)

5. Discussion (geared towards the white reader) of what it means to be actively anti-racist

“Learn. Listen. Don’t make your guilt the emotional baggage of others to deal with. It’s not their job to hold our hands and make us feel better.”

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I’ve been looking forward to reading The Black Queen since it was announced, so I was thrilled to jump in on this tour. Thanks so much to the publisher, author, and tour company for having me!

Check out the Instagram tour too! My post can be found here, and the full schedule is here.