#so he rolled party animal as the final trait

[episims]

Here's the birthday boy with a bit less 90's esque look!

Felix Howl

Aspiration: Romance / Family

Hobby: Sport

Orientation: Gay

Traits: Proper, light sleeper, irresistible, dog person, party animal

[sunderwight]

Thinking about a crack SV AU where Shen Yuan transmigrates into a horse.

Luckily he is not a normal horse, no! He is a spiritual stallion, a character that was mainly a joke about the novel's genre in PIDW, originally bred on Cang Qiong's beast tamer peak but not actually encountered until Luo Binghe's "raze cultivation society to the ground" phase. At which point there was a subplot about him finding the stallion and letting it loose to run free, as like, an allegorical reference. Occasionally Binghe would find other horses across the years that were obviously descended from that one, as more jokes, until Airplane forgot about the reference and never brought it up again.

Shen Yuan, of course, was always Big Mad that Binghe never got to actually ride this super magical mystical horse, and never got the horsegirl arc he deserved! Where is the man's companion animal? How can someone with nine billion wives and even more nameless underlings be fated for a life of perpetual loneliness??

Naturally, the first thing Shen Yuan does upon figuring out that he's this magic horse is break out of the beast peak and make for Qing Jing. He's not necessarily planning to go bond with the protagonist or anything, but he's not particularly keen to live out his fate as some feral horse that fucks other horses either, and he's extremely valuable so it's unlikely anyone will kill him even if they catch him again. So, might as well take the opportunity to clap eyes on his favorite character before he's doomed to a life of eating hay and whatever, right?

Horse SY manages to arrive on Qing Jing Peak right before the start of the skinner mission, though, just as Ming Fan is telling Luo Binghe that there aren't enough horses. Ning Yingying points out SY and is all oh look, one of the stable hands must have realized the error and brought another, and everyone else is kind of like "uh that is... not a normal horse...?" but then Shen Qingqiu gets impatient and snaps at them to get a move on, and fear of their mercurial shizun overrides everything else to the point where Binghe just clambers desperately onto this mystical saddle-free horse.

Airplane borrowed kelpies for his demon beasts at some point and they are pretty common, so it occurs to Luo Binghe only after he's climbed onto the strange and definitely not normal Horse SY that he might be on the verge of getting carried off and drowned. But SY just kind of rolls with it, and falls into line with the other horses.

Hey, it's an excuse to leave the sect! And practice doing horse stuff! And also, he's not going to buck Luo Binghe off of his back!

Of course as it happens, the specific kind of magical horse that Shen Yuan is comes with a specially bred-for trait where they only bond to one rider. They're usually bred for like, kings and emperors and other highly important figures as status symbols, like magical companion animals but ones with perfectly mundane utilities. He's also got Shadowfax-like stamina and speed, meaning that Airplane can treat this kind of horse as interchangeable with a motorbike, and of course the capacity to cultivate. Which means that when the party finally arrives at their destination, everyone suddenly realizes that Luo Binghe has unwittingly bonded with a horse that's worth a fortune and won't ever let anyone else ride it now.

Shen Qingqiu flips his shit, Shen Yuan bites Shen Qingqiu, Luo Binghe hyperventilates, Ning Yingying gets kidnapped, and the situation basically resolves with Shen Yuan kicking the shit out of the skinner demon in defense of his new BFF the baby protagonist.

Well if he's going to end up letting anyone ride him for the rest of his life, Luo Binghe would be his first choice.

Anyway they get back and Shen Qingqiu is still spitting mad and offers Luo Binghe's head on a platter to the lord of the beast peak, but Beast Peak's people are actually kind of pleased. Like sure it's a little inconvenient, because Luo Binghe is a Qing Jing disciple and not one of theirs, but they were honestly beginning to worry that this stallion wouldn't bond with anyone! It's really hard to manage them when they don't! And SY in particular comes from a long and illustrious lineage that has nearly died out a few times, so they were never planning to sell him off even for a high price anyway. With a rider chosen, the odds of them getting him to cooperate for breeding purposes are a lot higher, plus it will be much easier to take care of him now! Though they will be taking Shen Qingqiu up on his offer of Luo Binghe's time, since "punishment" for this transgression will involve splitting his time between the peaks in order to help take care of SY (all the beast peak disciples are super relieved, apparently before Shen Yuan transmigrated, the horsey original goods was extremely prone to biting and kicking...)

Shen Qingqiu basically tells Luo Binghe not to bother coming back, which fills Binghe with despair, but he gets over it eventually. The beast peak is nice! They give him a cultivation manual as well, in order to help him understand what they do, and it seems that Binghe can understand it a lot better than his QJP one. The peak lord gives him permission to use the dorms as well, since there will probably be times when he has to stay overnight, and no one says much about it when Binghe basically moves in full time. On the books he's still a Qing Jing disciple, but functionally he's a transfer student now. He even sits in on classes and lectures, and a lot of the peak are just under the impression that he was transferred over to their peak in full.

Shen Yuan considers this a big improvement, and expects Luo Binghe to enjoy running around with all the pretty girls on the peak. But Binghe mostly seems to spend his time with him, in fact, asking questions upon questions not only about Shen Yuan's breed, but about his specific background and lineage. The beast peak is overall pretty nice, although sadly it's not full of cool monsters and companion animals as Shen Yuan would have hoped. Mostly the peak specializes in the cultivation world's equivalent of livestock and work animals, training beasts like spirit eagles and horses like himself, and raising animals prized for their meat, organs, bones, or other parts for medicinal, alchemical, or culinary ingredients, or sometimes components for weapons or other spiritual tools. They work the most closely with Qian Cao, Wan Jian, and An Ding.

Being a horse is honestly kind of boring for Shen Yuan, although running is fun, and he at least gets plenty of time to work on his cultivation.

By the time Sha Hualing's invasion happens, he's gotten pretty comfortable in his new state of affairs. Binghe has even figured out that he likes being read to, and has started reading aloud to him from various texts in the evenings! So far no good novels, or even bad trashy novels, but it's better than nothing!

Binghe also takes him for a lot of rides around the peaks (not Qing Jing) which is how they end up caught on Qiong Ding when the rainbow bridge goes down. When Shen Qingqiu tells Luo Binghe to fight, Binghe doesn't even have a weapon at hand.

Actually, he doesn't have a sword at hand.

Turns out having your magical horse kick a demon to death is still pretty effective!

Shen Yuan even manages to avoid getting poisoned too. Rather, Elder Hammer threatens to poison him and Luo Binghe charges at him shouting "stay away from my horse! I'll kill you!" and etc, and does get nicked by the thorns, but only Binghe and Shen Yuan notice and of course the poison doesn't work on Binghe, congrats for unlocking a new hint as to Luo Binghe's mysterious origins!

Yes, Horse SY shows up to help Binghe in the Dream Demon event. He still looks like a horse for it, but it also marks the first time he's able to speak to Luo Binghe, which successfully distracts Luo Binghe from a lot of the tormenting visions of his past because talking magic horse friend has a way of doing that.

So the Dream Demon is like, that's not a normal horse, and Luo Binghe is all "stay away from my horse! I'll kill you!" and Shen Yuan gets knocked out of the dream as usual. Wakes up to Luo Binghe rushing to his stall to check on him and prepare him some nice warm congee and double-check that he can't talk for reals (only in dreams for now, alas).

Anyway Luo Binghe has no reason to hide his demonic cultivation practice from his horse, so Shen Yuan gets to sit in on it as Binghe tries to put Meng Mo's teachings into practice, which he finds super cool. Binghe's normal cultivation also progresses quite a bit, but he's still very much disadvantaged there because the beat peak is only giving him like, half-assed guest disciple status lessons, no personal one-and-one tutelage, and he's unofficially banned from Qing Jing and wouldn't get any help there anyway (apart from Ning Yingying). The beast peak lord isn't really his shizun and Shen Qingqiu isn't going to take Binghe to do things like claim a sword from Wan Jian, either.

Luckily, Binghe can now confer with his horse in his dreams! Shen Yuan has such helpful ideas as compelling various hall masters and combat teachers to dream about their lessons, so that Binghe can insert himself into the form of their students and supplement his tutelage with nighttime training from all around the sect. And also stealing some blank documents from An Ding and forging paperwork to turn over to Wan Jian to make it look like Binghe has permission to claim a spiritual sword without Shen Qingqiu's approval.

What a way to pass the time before the Immortal Alliance Conference!

Horse Shen Yuan would like very much to just carry Luo Binghe away in the opposite direction, thank you, but he does have a system and it is still holding a metaphorical gun to his head about this. Still, there's no force in the world that could keep Shen Yuan in his stable when shit starts to go down, or that could stop him from kicking the snot out of Shen Qingqiu when he tries to throw Binghe into the Abyss. (Binghe's thoughts on the fight: "stay away from my horse! I'll kill you!")

However, Binghe does still get thrown down, and Horse SY runs off whilst weeping crystalline tears of dismay as his mane whips in the wind, imagining a future where a blackened Luo Binghe returns for his revenge arc and symbolically sends his beloved horsie companion away forever to go frolic or some shit, which Shen Yuan is not interested in!

But what can he do? By the time Binghe gets out of the Abyss, his need for a horse will be decidedly minimal. It already went down a bunch when he finally got Zheng Yang (that Binghe somehow almost never flew anywhere on, surely for reasons unrelated to his bond with SY), and with Xin Mo and all his OP talents, even if he did keep Shen Yuan, wouldn't he become as much of a useless background character as countless auxiliary wives in his harem?

No! He won't stand for it! There has to be a way for him to convince even blackened Binghe that Shen Yuan is still the best ride in town!

Luckily, Shen Yuan knows where there are some power-ups that might be able to help him. While he won't touch anything that would be vital for the protagonist, he's more flexible on screwing over random future harem members or side characters, especially when it wouldn't even really harm them all that much. So while Binghe is going through his gauntlet of horrors in the Abyss, Shen Yuan embarks on his own level-up quest to dramatically increase his cultivation, and become more capable of keeping up with Binghe.

When this leads to Shen Yuan being able to take on a human form, he gets really excited, but that's mostly for personal comfort reasons. He can finally hold books again! And talk to people! Who cares if he looks like someone's ponysona gijinka, he can walk over to a stall and order meat buns!

Unicorn form is next, and it's... meh? Mostly it's a boost in his cultivation. The horn looks fun but doesn't really do much.

When he upgrades to being able to take on a pegasus form, now that's really cool. He can fly now! Not only is it crazy good fun, but it also increases his mobility exponentially. Surely riding a flying horse would be more comfortable than balancing on a sword, too?

But that's not enough for his actual goal, he needs to keep going until he finally finds the right bullshit mythical item that will do what he hopes:

Turn him into a dragon!

Unfortunately said bullshit item is in the demon realms, which are a fairly difficult place to navigate as either a horse or a human. Beefing up for the trip takes Shen Yuan just about two years, and requires all of his other upgrades. But he does it, he gets to the demon realms, eats the creatively named Dragon Fruit Plant, and... gets... stuck???

In his new dragon form???

WTF this didn't happen to the random ox that Luo Binghe fed the fruit to in order to create a suitable beast of burden to impress the husband of Wife No.666! Although, thinking about it, maybe it did because it wasn't like the ox ever turned back into an ox afterwards. But Shen Yuan just figured that was because it was a simple beast of burden and saw becoming a dragon as an overall upgrade, why go back? He honestly hadn't really thought about it!

Cue Luo Binghe getting out of the Abyss only to shortly find that a random dragon is following him around. Maybe that just happens here? It doesn't attack him, at least, and he has no time to deal with it (or to sleep) because his first order of business is establishing enough of a foothold in the demon realms to regain access to the human ones, and find out what happened to his horse. And then kill Shen Qingqiu. In that order.

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

Asylum Challenge: Day 14

Finally Wicked Whims may be calming down lol. While nothing that explicit will be shown, just something to keep in mind, I guess? Also I'd installed a new skin default accidentally so the Sims look a little different to usual.

We're on the Granny Grind, yes. And Lilac finally got her first Plopsy sale, let's go!

Level Two: Thread Setter

✅ Achieve Level 4 of the Knitting Skill ❌ Knit While Listening to Music ✅ Sell a Knitted Object on Plopsy

Two shots of Vlad's Trendi outfit for its many fans. Lilac's probably wondering if she can knit him a scarf to go along with it. While otherwise I like the Nifty Knitting pack, wasted opportunity with the lack of accessories. A standalone scarf or two (and some gloves and mittens) would have been so cute. Like how? A scarf is many people's first ever knitting project.

Lou came over for a visit. He likely came over for more than that, but Lilac was like "not now, I have an aspiration to complete."

Having sniffed his way into more than his fair share of my saves in the past, he understood that well enough and was happy just to vibe.

"And then he ran away shrieking like 'bat out!'" Rory recounting the time she threw down on Wolfgang's behalf.

Time to autonomously sit down next to a transformed werewolf and get tense moodlets! Rory's likely reading up on how to still further humiliate Vlad next time.

With Rory out of the room (I've been getting her to use her LUNAR HOWL ability every night to reset her woof-woof traits, and she rolled the one where she hates loud noises), Lilac finally checked off the last goal of this stage.

Level Two: Thread Setter

✅ Achieve Level 4 of the Knitting Skill ✅ Knit While Listening to Music ✅ Sell a Knitted Object on Plopsy

Vlad set the table for an early dinner and Lilac was the only one who used it 😔

Once more Rory was brimming over with Fury, so I took her and Lilac over to Moonwood Mill. Fortunately she snapped out of it pretty quickly.

Much to my irritation, I realised that there was nothing nearby that Lilac could sit on and knit. So I somehow (I think it was an UI Cheats function) got a bunch of household objects to appear in the space and kept the bed, as it looked the least out of place here.

Rory very enthusiastic about some grilled fruit.

Lily very enthusiastic about Lilac becoming a Friend of the Moonwood Collective. The greatest people you will ever meet!

So now she's friends of both packs, and yet has still to unlock the WEREWOLF ALLY trait.

Having established that he and Lilac are now on sleepover and fur braiding terms, Kristopher only then sat next to her on the shiny new abandoned bed to re-read The Lord of the Swings.

The rest of the pack soon joined in the excitement. No, nothing... Whimsical happened, just some cute High School Years bed sitting style animations.

Lilac likewise agreed that it was a solid 'get' for the Collective HQ. Nah, I think she'd just finished another project.

Level Three: Dream Weaver

❌ Complete 10 Excellent Quality Knittables (2/10) ❌ Successfully Gift 3 Knittables ✅ Achieve Level 6 of the Knitting Skill ❌ Successfully Show Off Your Knitted Sweater to Another Sim

Since Lilac has the SELF-ASSURED trait, her overriding mood seems to be 'confident' rather than 'inspired.' So those excellent quality knittables are going to take a while.

Well, I should have specified that nothing Whimsical happened 'at that point in time.' Lilac and Lou evidently had an IOU.

And then once more we returned home to Vlad napping outside in one of the party bushes. I think because the self-care club has 'sleeping' as one of its preferred activities, and since he has the weakness where he can only sleep in a coffin, the devs probably didn't factor in those.

[dg-outlaw]

X-Men '97 and the Gambit Ford F-150 Trailer Hitch Clutching

So I haven't watched all the episodes yet, but I wanted to address the stuff I've seen/heard about certain dudes in the "fandom" getting all upset about Gambit's crop top and how it made him seem gay or bi coded, even though in the entire episode he's classic Remy LeBeau from the original 90s series--not too interesting in helping out or doing anything other than what he wants to do, shamelessly flirting with Rogue, and busting everyone else's balls/possibly flirting with them too, but will still jump into the fight when it's time.

Oh, and Gambit was my favorite X-Men character growing up and I'm a cishet male, if that matters. Spoiler alert: It shouldn't.

"Holy Sports Illustrated Swimsuit edition, Batman! It's his belly button."

If that's you, you clearly were too young in the 90s to remember the fashion of the day. The top photo and the ending basketball scene (a references to the comics as well), was soooo 80s/90s. Bishop's got a lime green tank top on and Cyclops' tank top is tucked into his shorts. The animators understood the assignment.

If anything, Remy (above) is rock-n-roll coded more than anything else. Just Google most 80s era rock bands that had songs about partying, sex, hot babes, etc. and you'll see big hair, eyeliner, bright colors, leather pants, jewelry, fishnets, fingerless gloves, and yes... crop tops. Maybe the 80s and 90s were "gay", IDK, but I remember most of my childhood clothes in the 80s and early 90s were some variation of a neon color as was every other kid's regardless of gender.

As mentioned above, he soooo badly wants in Rogue's pants, which possibly eliminates any gay coding, which only leave bi coding if a 90s crop top = being bisexual.

Who. Freakin'. Cares. Say this out loud with me. You can like, love, and enjoy a character without identifying with that character in any way, shape, or form (and that's probably a good thing for some characters). This can mean their sexuality, gender, ethnicity, religion, morality, or anything else about them. Yes, we can bring in the Punisher debate and how military and law enforcement appropriated the Punisher logo as their badge of honor and intimidation, and how they cherry-picked traits from that character to signal their toxic masculinity when Frank Castle is not meant to be a patron saint of law enforcement or the military. But it is also possible to just enjoy a character without making that character your identity. You can enjoy their characterization, storylines, or even something as simple as their costume, superpowers, or where they're from because you were born or grew up there too.

As mentioned above, Gambit was my favorite character growing up when I first got into X-Men, mostly thanks to this series, and he and I are very different. To me, Gambit was the cool, confident guy that I wasn't. He also wasn't Cyclops or Wolverine.

As a kid, most kids wanted to be Wolverine when playing X-Men on the playground because he had the claws and the healing factor. To us, he was OP which fit in with the whole childish argument of big, bigger, biggest, and finally infinity whatever... until someone busted out with the infinity times infinity argument. Also, there was no real internet and comics weren't readily accessible, so most of the knowledge at that time was from the show and limited comics one might've had. Plus, I think the whole Magneto pulls the adamantium from Wolverine's body storyline hadn't happened yet so yeah, that would've been a good game changer on the playground.

Anyway, outside of Batman, I was never a fan of the "popular" thing growing up and often preferred more underdog characters, teams, and things. Also, due to self-esteem issues I always felt less than, so while I liked Wolverine it was hard for him to be my favorite since he was everyone else's and I felt like I wasn't cool enough to like him. Cyclops on the other hand was the clean cut boy scout, which also didn't appeal to me because that was also something I didn't relate to. Outside of Beast and Morph, who got sidelined earlier in the series, that then left Gambit. (Note: Bishop wasn't a part of the main group and came later on.) But Gambit also seemed cool to me. He had a cool looking outfit, was agile and knew how to fight (I was into martial arts at the time as well), and could throw explosive cards. He definitely fit the "Rule of cool" in my child brain.

Lastly, and this goes back to point #4 above, it shouldn't matter what a character is like or how they identify. They're fictional and enjoying them as a medium should be fun. They are not you and you are not them, even if you have things in common. That said, I do think it's great when there's representation as well. I don't recall if this was in the OG series, though I seriously doubt it was, and I don't know about main Marvel canon, but I also think it's cool that Morph now has they/them pronouns as seen in the profile credits and Marvel wiki. I'm sure some people have missed this and I'm sure that'll be the next hot-button issue, but whether Gambit is gay, bi, straight, or whatever, he's still one of my favorites and it's why I grabbed this guy when it first came out.

I have more things to say about this first episode and my experience with the X-Men growing up, but I'll save that for other posts as this has gotten long enough already.

[gummybugg]

Meet my OC Blair from Crater City!

hi hi! i brought a detailed character bio! yay! enjoy the headshot i drew!

Inspired by that one picrew @ reelrollsweat made!

Detailed Bio under the cut!

˗ˏˋ [intro]

Name: Blair (he/him)

Role: protagonist

Dob: Jan 10; aged 23

Sexuality: bi

Mbti: esfp

Occupation: in-universe equivalent of an uber driver (which is lowkey illegal since he hijacks auto-cars)

bio / summary: Moves to Crater City from the outskirts for a chance to pursue computer/technology and to find a place he can finally belong. Quits college and his white collar job because they were “too boring,” much to others’ dismay. Once his bff Elijah gets jumped by his supposed creditors, Blair vows to do whatever it takes to avenge his best friend even if that involves getting his hands dirty.

˗ˏˋ [appearance]

Height: 5’3”

Hair: very dark brown, mullet, full of cowlicks

Skin: beige

Eye: very dark brown

build / physique: build to last (chubby/sturdy)

notable features: acne scars, multiple cuts/scars, missing left pinky, slight beard stubble, sharp canines, double ear gauges, double helix piercings in each ear, tongue piercing

clothing style: some random guy who rolled out from under your bed (cargo shorts + a band tee)

˗ˏˋ [more]

tag for your oc: blair, blair core

aesthetic / vibe / tropes: just some dumbass in a post-apocalyptic hellscape; heart motif

traits / quirks: follows his heart, lives in the moment, loyal to those he loves, tries and fails to keep promises, tends to be self-centered/stuck in his head, party animal, turbulent, vulgar at times, will fight even if all odds are stacked against him, noticeably fidgets/stims according to emotion, excessive use of alliteration and odd metaphors, can talk someone’s ear off for hours at a time

quotes: “Let scientists do what they want with this body. There's enough Blair to go around for everyone!” / “C’mon man, get up, you know we can't afford an ambulance!” / “Oh, so you're mad at me because I wanted to avenge my best friend? Excuse me for thinking my best friend’d wanna help me dispose of the body!”

fun facts: croc-enthusiast, terrible driver, perfect at parallel parking, left-handed, has unusual luck

hobbies / skills: going to bars, dancing, playing video games until 5 am, collects knives/road signs/keys/rocks, creates robot pets that don't last very long, knife tricks with his balisong, doodling, creating characters

likes: the color red, frosted animal crackers, sweet food, night driving, talking about his hyperfixations, hugs, rock music, buying shirts with funny quotes on them, listening to Elijah play his guitar/sing

dislikes: being called crazy/a freak, the constant chatter in his head, loud/bright places (when sober), when people don't believe him, the dentist's office, condescending people, the rich

moodboard: 

playlist

(may update this page as I see fit!)

...

🚗 Want to rot your brain with each sporadic Crater City post? Join the taglist! Maybe I'll finish this wip someday, who knows! (dm to be added/removed): @writeouswriter @lyra-brie @digitalsatyr23 @talesfromtheunknowable

[mothlegs]

Image descriptions

Twitter thread posted by Antoine H. (@\AntnHz) on August 23 2019

My grandmother passed away. Her funerals were today, but here I'd like to talk about the most important thing I couldn't spend too much time on in her eulogy: her love for Dungeons & Dragons. #DnD

She started very late, at 75, only a little over a year ago. One day I simply asked her if she'd like to try, and, like always when presented with something new, she said "Of course!". So we grabbed my PHB and built up a character together.

My grandmother chose to be a forest gnome because they seemed the most happy of the races and she really liked the fact that she could talk to small animals. She went with druid just to double down on the animal-friendship theme.

(Also when we went through the character traits, I asked her: "Do you want to be a boy or a girl?", and she answered right away "I've been a girl my whole life, it'd be fun to try being a boy for once".)

So, we're making her character sheet, rolling her stats (she gets a 17 and puts it in WIS) and choosing her first spells, and I ask her if she has a name in mind. "I don't know, I'll find one by tomorrow".

That night, she does something that even I never expected: she goes on the Internet and reads every piece of lore she can find about gnomes. She barely knew how to Google, and yet here she was, browsing Wikipedia articles and D&D fansites.

The nest day, right before we play for the first time, she reveals her name to the party. Terminatur. Oh, and she'd also drawn him.

[ Pencil drawing of a person with curly hair sticking up. He wears a long sleeved shirt, big shorts, elf-like shoes, and a wide collar of unknown type - perhaps a ruff? He holds a flute, and next to him is a goose ]

Thing is, she didn't know about the Terminator (although she probably heard the name somewhere and it came back subconsciously). She doesn't speak English, so she has no idea about the connotation.

She made up the name from "termite", because she liked the idea of gnomes living in burrows, and "nature", because she was a druid. Both words are the same in French. And she dropped the final "e" because, I kid you not, "it's cooler".

So we start playing. It's a new campaign starting at 1st level, and I decided to approach it like a series of one-shots, so that players could come and go without having to bend t he story when a character's absent. Essentially, they're adventurers sent on missions by their guild.

The party is made up of a Kalashtar sorcerer, a half-elf ranger, and our little gnome druid, who never goes anywhere without his goose friend. They chose to undertake the cleansing of a reportedly haunted house. And that's when I knew my grandmother would fall in love with RPGs.

They explore the house a bit, and in the night, get attacked by the kitchen table, who turned out to be a mimic. My grandmother's genuinely scared by the (light) horror movie vibes, but she's smiling through it all.

My grandmother lives it. So much so that sometimes she has to close her eyes to calm herself down. Now, I'm not a particularly good nor experienced DM, but she made me feel like I was @\ChrisPerkinsDnD or @\matthewmercer .

Unwilling to get too close to the mimic, she casts for the first time a cantrip that would become her signature spell: Thorn Whip. From then on, she would use Thorn Whip any time she could, or when she didn't know what to do. She loved that spell.

So anyway, she casts it, and makes her very first attack roll... natural 20. The whole table went WILD (by which I mean the players, not the mimic). It couldn't have been more perfect.

Thus Terminatur was born. The party ended up establishing this house as their home base, and she made it a home; over the sessions, she used druidcraft to literally grow a new kitchen table where the mimic had been, and planted a vegetable garden where she invented a new fruit.

That fruit, that she named cipal, would months later serve as a bargaining chip with fairies that were tending to a fey orchard. It eventually led to Terminatur becoming a member of a multiplanar ecology group, the Circle of the Green Hand.

I invited Terminatur to be part of this group by sending him a letter IRL to my grandma's address. She was ecstatic, and she answered in the same way by sending me a letter written entirely in-character. She covered it with old stamps representing trees and dragons.

[ Image of the letter, with various nature related stamps. The letter reads:

Oh! oh! oh! quel bonne surpise

ce matin un courier de la

Main Verte.

Je suis très honorer de faire

partie de cette grande famille

au grade de "Pignon"

je ferais tout ce qui est en

mon pouvoir pour cette belle

nature, qui est en sommeil

pour le moment, est qui se

revailleras, avec des plus

gros rayons plus chaud,

Merci à tous

Translated from French to English:

Oh! oh! oh! what a good surprise

this morning a letter from the

Green Hand.

I'm very honoured to be a

part of this huge family

at the rank of "Pignon"

I will do anything

in my power for this beautiful

nature, which is asleep

for now, and will awake with bigger

warmer sunshine,

Thanks to all

Both provided by @\gwouinaelle on Tumblr ]

The last few months were rough. She'd been fighting against pancreatic cancer, and things had took a turn for the worst. Sometimes, the pain and exhaustion from chemo were too much to bear and she couldn't play. She still did it when she could, though, and updated her drawing.

[ Pencil drawing similar to the first, but now coloured and with stars and birds doodled around the character. The skin has been coloured pink, the hair yellow, the collar yellow-orange, and the shirt green and grey ]

The colours of the Terminatur's outfit were inspired by the comic book character Bécassine, that she had loved since she was a kid. "Bécassine" is a national treasure and one of the most recognizeable character in France, even though she's virtually unknown outside of her homeland.

[ Image of Bécassine. She has pale skin, white hair or head covering, and a green, red, white, and black dress. She holds a red and orange umbrella, with the end of the handle being shaped like a bird's head ]

By the way, we decided that canonically, Terminatur looks like #DiceCameraAction's Simon as drawn by the amazing @\genkaiko in this picture, with curlier blonde hair and a "Bécassine"-like colour palette.

[ Reply to a tweet with a drawing of Simon. He has pale skin and short brown hair that gets lighter at the tips. He wears a maroon star-shaped collars with bells on the tips, and clothes in various shades of red with large, poofy sleeves. ]

I almost forgot to mention: my grandmother's also the one who came up with the party's name. In this campaign, my players all wear real necklaces with little trinkets that they found in their adventurers and that I hand out to them to reward them: medals, rings, monster teeth...

[ Image of said necklace. It has a leather string, two coins, what appears to be a long tooth, and a red medal with the letters "XXV" on it and an anchor ]

My grandmother's was particularly overloaded, so one day she comes up with a potential name, "les Bijoutiers Fantaisistes". The Fanciful Jewelers. It was SO funny and unexpected, everybody loved it at once, and they've been calling themselves it ever since, often shortened as BF.

Less than a month ago, the cancer took over her whole body. She was hospitalized and stayed there until her passing, on Wednesday morning. The last thing she told me was "Never change, never lose your family spirit, and keep on playing Dungeons & Dragons".

So the BF will go on, without their druid. And in all my future campaigns, players will hear of a legendary planar-traveler gnome with a goose on his head that gives out strange fruit, cracks his whip and disappears. Here's to the best grandma in the world. I miss her already.

[ Two images of an older woman with grey hair, wearing red glasses and a red top in various shades of red with white detailing ]

[becca-leigh]

𝗣𝗔𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗧𝗜𝗖 𝗘𝗡𝗩𝗬.

✧ Anime - Attack on Titan.

✧ Pairing - Eren Jaeger x Reader [Fem Bodied].

✧ Word Count - 7.3k

✧ Contains - 18+, Oral sex, Unprotected sex, BDSM (Ice play, Wax play, Whipping, Gagging and Blindfolding).

✧ Synopsis - Jealousy was a trait that Eren couldn’t suppress when it came to a pretty girl like you, but you enjoyed his reaction more than you should.

✧ Prompt - ‘Don’t make me take you home and punish you.’

Watchful eyes stalked your every move whilst you chatted happily to Jean, burning into the side of your face as a soft giggle escaped your glossy lips. He was jealous, but with no reason. You were his. You made that clear the moment you committed to him, but yet, watching you laugh at something Jean had said made his veins course with bitterness. The mere sight of you with another man made Eren clench his teeth, his expression pinching. His usually bright, emerald green eyes had darkened acrimoniously.

Jealousy is often correlated to the colour green - green with envy, so they say. That’s not to confuse jealousy with envy. Eren’s feelings at the sight of you conversing with Jean ran deeper than jealousy. He was envious. Envious of Jean’s attributes - what he had that Eren didn’t. A long-running rivalry between the two left them both competing to be the best, and Eren was in the lead, because he had you. So, why did his heart still swarm with resentment whenever he saw you with him?

Jean placed his hand on your forearm, rubbing small circles on your bare skin. Your eyes scanned around the room, eager to catch sight of your possessive boyfriend, before they finally landed on a face filled with enmity. A small smirk toyed at your lips knowing he’d been eyeing you from across the room the whole time, before you turned your attention back to Jean and moved a little closer to him. Bratty move. Truthfully, you had no interest in what Jean was speaking about, you simply relished in the idea of what Eren would do to you later having seen you being touched by his rival. Pushing his buttons - seeing how far you could push him before he snapped - was your pastime. It was cruel, maybe even a little sadistic, but you didn’t care. Thoughts plagued your head, imagining all the ways Eren will punish you because you had ‘purposely taunted him at the party, and used his enemy against him’. You’d heard it all before. This wasn’t the first time, and undoubtedly, it wouldn’t be the last. Before you could think on it even further, a deep voice pulled you out of your thoughts, making Jean halt his sentence about God-knows-what.

“Jean,” Eren greeted, rather calmly, “mind if I steal my girl back? You’re boring her.” His tone was commanding rather than questioning.

Jean rolled his eyes, removing his hand from your arm before responding. “We’re having a conversation, actually. I don’t think I’m boring anyone.” He stated matter-of-factly. Oh, Jean. Eren was right, he was boring you.

The corners of Eren’s lips twitched at Jean’s reply, knowing damn well you’d zoned out of the conversation a while back. “Cute. Anyway, I need her. I’m sure you can spare her for 5 minutes, Jean-boy.” Before Jean could criticise Eren over the nickname, you’d been pulled away from the conversation with a harsh tug on your hand by your boyfriend. Out of earshot from anyone, Eren turned to face you with a look of disgust plastered on his pretty face.

“What the fuck are you playing at, (Y/N)? There’s a shit-tonne of people at this party, and you choose to strike up a conversation with Kirstein? His dirty hand was all over your arm, too.” Eren spat, pure hatred lacing his voice. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he looked at you with impatience, waiting for your bullshit reply. When you didn’t give him one, he lowered his head to your ear before continuing.

“Don’t make me take you home and punish you.”

His tone was low and husky, dripping with nothing but desire. His teeth nipped at your ear lobe before he pulled away, standing up straight and looking you dead in the eye. Jesus, if looks could kill.

You cleared your throat before replying. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing, Eren. You don’t think I do it on purpose for that exact reason?” His eyes widened slightly at your boldness, simultaneously hating and loving the fact that you used Jean for your own personal gain. Eren placed a gentle hand in the spot on your arm where Jean’s was, rubbing it back and forth as if he was dusting you off.

“As long as you remember that you’re mine, I don’t care what you do. Just don’t let Jean lay even a finger on you.” He paused, studying your face for a reaction, before lifting your chin with his pointer finger. “I mean it, sweetheart. Your actions have consequences, and you know that, so be careful.”

—♡—

Eren wasn’t pleased. You’d had a few drinks, but by no means were you even tipsy, just a little more confident. He’d let you go after your conversation and watched as you made your way to the drinks counter situated in Connie’s kitchen. The same place Jean happened to be standing. Great. A few people attempted to make conversation with Eren, but gave up after receiving half-hearted replies. His attention was elsewhere, too focused on ensuring you didn’t make any stupid decisions with your newfound confidence. Granted, you had stuck to his word about not letting Jean touch you, as you kept a respectable distance between you both. But, as established earlier, even seeing you with another man was enough to get a reaction out of him. Was it toxic? A little. However, you’d never given Eren a reason not to trust you, and he appreciated that. On that note, he was just about to tear his eyes away from you and Jean when-

Jean Kirstein kissed you on the cheek.

Fuck that. Eren’s envy had returned, only this time, it was accompanied by murderous thoughts. ‘What’s the best way to bury a body?’, he thought, briskly making his way over to the both of you. He felt hot with anger.

The distance between you and Jean increased as Eren pulled you back by your waist, his face flushed slightly, and his eyes burning holes into Jean. Jean simply smirked, knowing he’d got a reaction out of riling Eren up.

Eren moved you to stand behind him, his arm across your front. “The fuck, Kirstein? Got a thing for girls who are taken?” Eren rhetorically asked.

“Not girls, just this one.” Jean nodded his head towards you, before returning his smug gaze back to Eren.

Eren scoffed. “I didn’t realise you were so fucking thick. (Y/N)’s mine.” Your heart raced at his possessiveness, and my God, did you fucking love it.

“I only kissed her on the cheek, Jaeger. No need to overreact. Bit possessive, don’t you think?” Jean bat back rather bluntly, pausing for a moment. “Or are you just that jealous of me?” Ah. There it is. Jean’s massive ego yearned to hear Eren admit his obvious jealousy, but that’s the last thing he’d ever do.

Eren chuckled darkly, his gaze turning to you and then back to Jean. “Pathetic question, Jean. I see no reason to be jealous of someone who looks like they belong in the stables.” Jean’s face fell, despite hearing similar horse-related insults on a regular basis. “I think you’ve stolen enough of my girl’s time for tonight, hm? Mikasa looks lonely, go and entertain her with your bullshit instead.” Eren moved his hand down to grab yours, pulling you past Jean and towards the exit, whilst taking his phone out of his pocket and ordering an Uber back to your shared apartment. An apologetic look was sent Jean’s way, but really, you weren’t sorry at all.

Once outside in the chilly Winter air, Eren diverted his attention from his phone to you, pocketing it before speaking. “Are you serious? I thought I made myself clear when I said not to let him touch you.” His breath could be seen in the light beaming down from the lamppost, and his soft, loose strands of hair that had fallen from his messy bun blew in the zephyr. He was gorgeous.

“I didn’t know he was going to do that, I swear. I was distracted.” You spoke honestly, Eren’s expression softening slightly at your words. Your love-filled orbs met his own, your lips pulled into a thin line knowing that he was still pissed at you.

Eren licked his lips, his tongue piercing momentarily becoming visible before he cleared his throat. “I’m still annoyed. And I stand by what I said earlier, too. Bad girls get punished, my love. And quite frankly,” he took a step closer to you, his tall figure shadowing yours, “you’ve been naughty tonight. Do I need to remind you who can fuck you better than anyone else?” A darkness filled his eyes, making you shudder slightly with anticipation, before you replied:

“Remind me.”

—♡—

The Uber drive back seemed to last longer than usual due to the sexual tension surrounding you and Eren. He sat in the back, with you in the middle seat, his hand firmly gripping your thigh. His hand trailed higher up your inner thigh, his fingertips dancing along your skin as he squeezed the supple flesh. What a tease. Eren knew your weaknesses and he played on them well. He knew damn well this simple teasing was soaking your cunt, and he observed as you clenched your thighs shut, prohibiting him from entering dangerous territory.

“Just wait.” You murmured sternly, hoping the driver wouldn’t be able to hear you over the quiet hum of music emitting from the radio.

Eren chuckled softly, turning his head to you. “Oh? Are you giving me orders?”

“No, just... not right now, just wait. Please.” The quiet plea left your lips, your eyes anxiously darting up to the rear-view mirror to ensure the driver couldn’t see your flustered state.

“Fine,” he reluctantly stated, moving his lips closer to your ear, “but only because I wouldn’t want to put on a free show for our driver.” His voice was laced with venom, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine. “Plus, you’d make a mess of his car seats, wouldn’t you, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes.” You quietly agreed. In all honesty, you were hoping to put an end to the conversation as the ache between your legs was beginning to grow.

Eren patted your thigh in praise before removing his hand completely, resting it in his own lap. “That’s my good girl.” He whispered. That simple praise erupted butterflies in your tummy. God, you loved when he called you that.

After your taster session for what was to come tonight - or, so you thought - the rest of the drive seemed to pass by quicker. Before long, the car halted to a stop outside of your apartment complex, with Eren already opening the door, eager to not waste any time. You politely thanked the driver before climbing out onto the curb behind Eren, sliding your smaller hand into his larger one and leading him up the stairs, all the way to your door.

Eren unlocked the door before you could even begin searching for your keys, kicking it open with his foot and signalling for you to go through with a head nod. He was being unusually calm, and rather quiet too - 2 facts that scared you, considering you’d seemed to majorly piss him off with your bratty antics towards Jean. The door clicked shut as he began to slide his jacket off, throwing it over the back of the sofa, his eyes maintaining stern eye contact with you. He was glaring at you, almost with... disgust? Oh. Oh.

Eren approached you carefully, discerning the way you were slightly trembling with nerves. He scoffed at this. “I did warn you, darling, that your actions have consequences, and yet,” he began in a low, provoking tone, “you still allowed Jean to touch you. It’s almost like you didn’t listen to a word I said, hm? Do you enjoy being an incompetent brat?”

“I- I told you, I-” You stammered. Embarrassing as fuck.

“You- you- you, what?” Eren mocked your pathetic attempts of forming a coherent sentence, a deep chuckle escaping his plump lips at your weakness. “Come on, spit it out, slut. You had plenty to say back there to our good friend Jean-boy.” He pointed behind him with his thumb.

You gulped. His jade green eyes were blackened with pure lust. He was getting off to breaking you down like this, and you fucking loved it. “I told you, he got me when I was distracted I- it’s not like I provoked him.” You sounded frustrated. ‘It was just a kiss on the cheek, stop being a whiny little bitch, Jaeger’, you thought, but you didn’t dare speak those words.

“I bet you think I’m being a little bitch, hm?” Huh?! It was like this man could speak your thoughts. “Maybe. But I made myself clear, and you disobeyed that. I think that alone deserves punishment.” He reached a hand out to lift your chin up. “What do you think, baby?”

“Yes, I deserve to be punished. Please. I’ll do anything.” You looked up at him with puppy-dog eyes, yearning to please the man you loved.

“Anything? God, you really are a desperate little cockslut, aren’t you? Already begging for me like a needy little whore.” Eren spat. “Go to the bedroom and wait patiently for me. I need to do something.” He ushered you out of the living room, heading towards the kitchen as you went in the opposite direction.

Swinging the bedroom door open, you began stripping from your skirt and t-shirt, the clothes feeling almost suffocating under the weight of your boyfriend’s words. You could hear him rummaging through drawers, and at one point it sounded like the ice dispenser was in use. ‘What the hell is he doing?’, you thought, but sooner shrugged it off. Your clothes were strewn across the room, leaving you in your matching lace underwear. You thanked your lucky stars you hadn’t opted for your usual comfy, somewhat granny-looking knickers that night.

Your wandering eyes travelled elsewhere, gazing upon the box that sat atop of the wardrobe. You wondered if he’d be making use of that box tonight; it had been a while, after all, and you were being punished. Eren’s footsteps echoing down the hallway broke you out of your train of thought as he arrived at the door, stopping momentarily at the doorframe to eye your figure up and down with a playful smirk. He lowered his eyes down to the contents in his hands. Confusion shadowed your face at his smirk, until you followed his gaze down to his hands, where he held a bowl of ice, a lighter, and a candle. The smirk made sense now.

“Huh? What the fuck is all that?” Your voice wavered.

His smirk only grew. “Don’t be stupid, you know exactly what all of this is for. You asked me to remind you who fucked you like no one else, did you not?”

“Yeah, but-” Eren interrupted you.

“But, what? You thought I was just gonna fuck you senseless and be done with it? Your innocence is adorable, sweetheart. No,” he entered the room fully before continuing, “what I am going to do is make this the most memorable night of your life.” He placed the ice bowl down on the bedside table, lighting the candle and putting that down on your dresser, away from the ice.

Eren brushed past you, stood in front of the wardrobe and reached up slightly to grab the box, his shirt riding up and exposing his tanned, toned abs. The box was planted at the edge of the bed before his attention returned to you.

“Lie down on the centre of the bed. It’s time I taught you a lesson on how not to act around other men.” His voice was stern, making you obey immediately, doing exactly as he asked. Perfect, you were submitting to him with ease. This shouldn’t be too difficult.

Eren lifted the lid off the box, pulling out its contents and admiring each one, before settling on a belt restraint and a blindfold for now. He moved to straddle your waist, bringing your hands together in front of him before wrapping the belt around them tightly. He ran a finger under the belt to check it was comfortable, secured it, and moved to pick up the blindfold. You stayed silent the whole time, watching him as he set about tying you up, before he held the blindfold up to your eyes with a questioning look. You nodded with consent, but he needed to hear it.

“Use your words, pretty baby. I still need to know you’re okay with this.” Eren spoke softly, patiently awaiting your response.

“I am. I want this, please, Eren.” He nodded gently before wrapping the silk fabric over your eyes. It was cool to the touch, a substantial contrast to the heat emitting from your cheeks. A firm knot was tied at the back of your head, before you felt Eren remove his weight off you, walking over to the dresser and picking up the candle. By now, melted wax sat afloat the hardened wax at the bottom, perfect for temperature play. He resumed his position, straddling your waist. You could feel his evident bulge as he leant forward.

Eren delicately traced a finger over the valley of your tits, running it along the underwire of your bra. “This might shock you, but the pain will subside. Just trust me, yeah?” You nodded. You knew you’d put all your trust in him, allowing him to do as he pleased with your body, as if you were some kind of fuck doll.

Eren shifted his weight upright, and you felt a sharp sting on your tummy, making you wince. He had poured a small amount onto the soft area, almost testing the waters, watching as the wax hardened against your heated skin. The bowl of ice was brought to your side as Eren placed 2 ice cubes: one between your tits, and one on the spot where the wax was to help lift the pain. In all honesty, you liked the burning sensation provided by the wax. It was foreign, and it turned you on more.

“You’re being so good for me, aren’t you, my little whore? So eager to please me, hm?” The ice cubes formed puddles on your skin as they slowly melted, your skin burning up more with Eren’s seductive words. He shuffled his weight down your thighs, looping his finger around the waistband of your thong and pulling it away from your soaked pussy. He relished in the sight of you laying before him, being an obedient little girl, letting him do as he desired.

“Fuck, you’re soaked. All for me?” Eren commented, dropping small beads of wax down your torso as he spoke. You wiggled slightly at the pain, a sharp intake of breath being sucked into your plushy lips. Your bottom lip found residence between your teeth as Eren soothingly ran an ice cube up and down your waist, leaving it there to melt. He pulled your thong away just enough to expose your throbbing clit to the cold air, before he tipped the candle and watched as a single globule of wax dropped directly onto your clit.

You hissed. “Shit! God, that hurts so fucking bad, Eren! What the fuck?!” Your back arched at the stinging pain on your most sensitive bud, whilst Eren simply chuckled mercilessly at your pain.

“Don’t be a wimp. Relax.” An ice cube was carefully being held against your clit, soothing and numbing the pain instantly. You had bitten your bottom lip so hard that you drew blood, the familiar metallic taste filling your mouth. A sadistic part of you wanted him to do it again, enjoying the feeling of the pain he was inflicting upon you as part of your punishment.

“Eren? Can you take the blindfold off me? I want you to do it again, but I want to watch.” His eyes widened at your request. He knew secretly that you would enjoy this, so it begs the question: was this really punishment at all?

Eren leaned forward, undoing the tight knot and allowing the silk to pool at your neck, before sitting back on his haunches. Your mascara had smeared slightly from your watery eyes, and my God, did he love the sight.

“Oh yeah? You want to watch me do-” he pulled your thong away again, this time your half-lidded eyes observing as a small drop of wax pooled at the rim, “-this?” He finished his question as a small drop of wax landed on your aching bundle of nerves.

“God, yes. Fuuuck.” You threw your head back at the pleasure and squeezed your eyes shut, your pornographic moans drawn out as the wax continued to burn you. Eren smirked, before dropping an ice cube down your thong and releasing it, lazily allowing the coldness to do its magic without his assistance. He made a mental note to do this with you again.

You reluctantly peeled your eyes open when you felt Eren shift his weight off the bed, admiring him as he pulled his t-shirt over his head by the back of the neck. His messy bun become even more messy, with loose strands falling everywhere, but the dishevelled look suited him. Next were his jeans, which were tugged down, exposing the restrained tent in his boxers. Eren made his way back over to the edge of the bed, ushering you to do the same.

“Stand up.” He ordered nonchalantly, undoing your makeshift handcuffs before harshly grabbing your body and pulling your back to his chest. His hot breath tickled your ear as he lowered his head to your neck, placing delicate, featherlight kisses to your sweet spots. You groaned at the sensation, feeling him tug your hands behind your back and rekindle the belt restraint. He pushed your shoulders down with force, shoving you onto your knees at the edge of the bed, before he removed his boxers and sat down. His girthy length sprung free, lightly hitting his abdomen, the tip flamed an angry red and oozing with pre-cum. Your eyes expanded hungrily at the sight, drool pooling at the corner of your lips.

“I’m in control,” he stated, eyeing your desperate expression, “you just let me use that pretty mouth of yours how I please, yeah?” You nodded, positioning yourself in between his spread legs. Your hands were restrained, so all you could do was open your mouth and wait.

Eren’s hand found a solid grip in your hair, forming a makeshift ponytail as he lowered your head down to his throbbing cock. Fuck, he couldn’t wait to see your pretty lips wrapped so tightly around his length, gagging as you struggled to take it all in your tight throat. “Spit.” He demanded, watching as you gathered spit in your mouth before dropping it down onto the tip. His free hand ran his thumb over his slit, spreading the concoction of pre-cum and spit down his shaft, pumping himself a few times. You opened your mouth again, your tongue lolling out slightly, showing your willingness to let him corrupt your mouth.

Eren tapped his tip against your lips, salty pre-cum spilling out of the tip as you wrapped your lips tightly around the head. He allowed you to suck on it, earning a groan from him, before he patted your cheek, signalling for you to open up. You hollowed out your cheeks, and with his grip on your hair, he thrusted his hips upward into your mouth. His tip instantly hit the back of your throat and your eyes welled with tears.

“Mhm fuck, so tight. Finally putting that mouth of yours to good use.” He moaned, fucking your throat with no mercy. The way his dick was hitting the back of your throat, mixed with the lack of air entering your lungs, made your head go dizzy. Eren threw his head back at the sight, mascara running down your face as he pushed your head down further. You choked around him, the noises and constricting of your throat sending vibrations down his cock.

Fuck, he wasn’t going to last like this.

Eventually, he granted you a breath of air as he pulled your head up, observing the mess he’d made of your beautiful face. You panted, your throat aching from his relentless fucking, but you were determined to behave yourself. You looked up at him through tear-coated lashes, your eyes begging for him to resume.

“Such a good fucking whore for me, aren’t you, (Y/N)? You gonna let me cum in your mouth? Yeah?” His voice was croaky, tightening his grip on your hair as he pushed your head back down to his cock.

“Y-yeah, please cum in my mouth, Eren.” He smiled at your good behaviour, lifting his hips up to meet your lips once more. Forcefully, he thrusted his cock back into your mouth, squeezing his eyes shut as your pretty lips wrapped tightly around him. What a sight.

“F-fuck, right there. Holy s-shit.” Eren’s body shuddered at the feeling as you gagged on his length, tears dropping down onto his thighs. You looked so helpless, letting him fuck your mouth like this. You were his good little slut. A few more thrusts and that tightening knot in his stomach would break. You hollowed your cheeks further, humming when his dick hit the back of your throat, creating those vibrations that drove him insane.

“Oh fuck, (Y/N), I’m gonna fucking cum. Holy shit. Such a- such a good girl, fuuuck.” Tears prickled his own lash line, threatening to spill the more he fucked your throat. His vision started going white, the knot in his tummy growing tighter until it snapped. Thick, white seeds of his cum spurted into your mouth, with Eren releasing a long moan. A string of babbling moans and your name left his pretty lips, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut, with a light flush dusting his tanned cheeks. His dick throbbed in your mouth as he released, and he pulled his hand out of your hair, giving you control back. You swallowed the salty cum, before you pulled your mouth off his dick with a ‘pop’. Eren thumbed a drop of cum that rested on the corner of your mouth and pushed it between your lips, allowing you to suck on it. His breathing was erratic as he panted, relaxing as his body came down from his high. Your throat hurt, but you knew you’d behaved well.

Eren released your hands once again, your wrists feeling the effects of the tight bondage, before he chuckled weakly. “You were such a good girl for me, baby. I think you deserve a reward, hm?” You nodded gently, watching as Eren moved his full body onto the bed, lying on his back. ”Take those off for me.” He pointed to your thong, and you hooked your thumbs around the sparse lace, tugging it down your legs. He patted his groin area, encouraging you to come and straddle him as he sat up, your naked cunt situated against the shaft of his semi-hard cock.

Eren wrapped his arms around you gently, his soft actions entirely opposite to how he was mercilessly fucking your throat a mere 2 minutes ago. You lowered your head and placed a chaste kiss on his lips, the first one of the night, before deepening it, lightly gripping onto his hair. He kissed you back with as much passion, his tongue entering your mouth and swirling it with your own. Your hips subconsciously began to rock against his, causing you both to gasp into the kiss, as Eren reached around your back and expertly undid the clasp of your bra. The kiss was broken when you pulled away, allowing him to pull the bra off your body, chucking it aside and admiring the sight in front of him. His hands moved up to cup both of your tits, his thumbs circling the nipples and watching as the buds hardened under his touch. Eren placed a sweet kiss on each one, before lying back down, his head hitting the soft pillow.

He signalled towards his lips before placing his hands on your ass, edging you forward. “Come on, my love. Let me get a taste of you, yeah?” He demanded, his tone sultry. He licked his lips to moisten them as you scooted forward, your cunt hovering above his lips. Eren roughly yanked you down, harshly forcing your dripping pussy to make contact with his lips. He immediately began running his tongue between your folds, eliciting soft gasps of pleasure from your lips.

“O-oh fuck, Eren, just like that.” One of your hands gripped tightly onto the headboard, the other making its way to Eren’s hair, tugging on it as he fucked your hole with his tongue. His tongue bar felt cold against your warm cunt, adding to the mix of sensations, building up the fuzzy feeling in your tummy. The sight of Eren below you like this was enough to make you cum.

Eren removed a hand from your ass and his tongue from your opening. He ran his fingers through your wet folds, positioning them at your entrance before slipping them in with ease. The feeling of his fingers entering you made you shudder, the moans emitting from your lips growing louder. His tongue found residence at your clit as he began flicking it lightly, kitten licking it. The metal against your cunt was only adding to the budding pleasure, spurring you to grind your hips against his face for more friction. Eren lay his tongue flat, allowing you to grind on it as you pleased.

The knot in your tummy began to tighten rapidly, threatening to break with a few more licks of his tongue and thrusts from his fingers. His fingers hit that plushy spot deep inside you repeatedly, with Eren making a ‘come-hither’ motion to press against your g-spot.

“Oh my God.” You drew out, gripping his hair tightly. The sensation of you tugging on Eren’s hair made him moan, the vibrations directly against your throbbing clit. “Shit, I-I can’t, I’m gonna cum, Eren. Fuck!” Your moans sounded more like cries of pleasure, desperate for a release. Your impending orgasm felt like a breath you were holding, and yearning to exhale. In other words, it was intense and invigorating.

A pornographic moan escaped your lips as you came, your slick dripping onto Eren’s fingers. White-hot pleasure overwhelmed your senses, your eyes squeezing shut with delicate tears slipping down your burning cheeks. Eren halted his movements as not to overstimulate you, removing his fingers from your sopping cunt as you hovered yourself from his face, moving to the side. He brought his cum-soaked fingers to his lips, sucking on them whilst maintaining eye contact with you. Your erratic breathing began to slow, Eren’s eyes never leaving yours as he sat up. He turned his attention to the box, pulling out more items.

A whip and a gag now lay in his hands. They were new, and yet to be used. He picked up the belt restraint from before too, holding the items in front of you as your worried eyes flicked between them all. Eren chuckled darkly, moving to stand off the bed.

He ushered you to the edge of the bed, before he tapped your cheek, silent permission for you to open your mouth. You complied, Eren placing the ball in your mouth and fastening the buckle at the back of your head. Drool spilled from the corners of your lips at the new feeling, your mouth over-salivating. He lay the whip beside you, before harshly pushing you to lay flat against the bed. Your legs clamped shut as Eren knelt before you.

“Open your legs, pretty. Don’t be cruel.” You parted your legs slowly, his hungry eyes trailing over the expanse of your body, settling on your dripping cunt. Cum seeped onto your thighs and the base of your ass, threatening to coat the bedsheets underneath. “What a mess you’re making.” Eren spat, slapping your clit repeatedly, eliciting lewd, wet sounds. You squealed at the feeling, not able to say anything as he slapped your pussy in punishment. This only added to the mess, making his actions prove futile and go against their aim. The slaps were harsh, not one bit light-handed, a sharp sting left behind on your bud.

Eren shuffled forward, his knees resting against the soft underside of your thighs. He tapped his dick against your cunt, rubbing the tip through your folds to transfer your wetness onto him, before reaching to hover over you. He roughly grabbed both your wrists, pinning them above your head and bounding them with the belt restraint yet again, sitting back on his haunches once content with the comfortability of the belt. Eren’s hand found its way to your cheek, slapping it. Not too harsh, but not lightly, either. Your head turned to the side, a handprint staining your cheek. Your eyes widened at your boyfriend’s actions as you turned back to look at him, noticing the way his jade green eyes had darkened with lust.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’re gonna regret messing with Jean like that, you pathetic little slut.” Eren spat with gritted teeth, tapping his dick against your cunt again, sliding his tip lower until it met your hole. He harshly thrusted in, giving you no time to adjust to his size. A groan left his lips as your tight opening sucked him in, making it hard for him to move. You moaned against the ball gag, your back arching at the feeling of Eren fully sheathed inside you.

“No one... can fuck you... like this.” Eren stated with each thrust, his teeth gritted at the way your walls hugged his thick girth. He fucked you with rough thrusts, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix with each one. Your eyes brimmed with tears that freely spilled down your cheeks at the overwhelming pleasure. He laughed venomously, loving the fact you were crying for him. Only he could do this to you.

Skin slapping sounds filled the room as he fucked you deeply, your muffled moans against the gag spurring him on more. He lifted a hand up, pressing down against your abdomen, groaning when he felt it. “You feel that, baby? That’s how deep I am. Fuck, so deep.” Pushing his palms down on the back of your thighs, he lifted them up and against your chest, his dick hitting impossibly deeper inside you. He slammed into you harder, stars clouding your vision at the immense pleasure.

“Such a desperate little bitch, hm? You gonna cum all over my cock? Come on, I know you want to.” Eren taunted, snaking a hand up to your breasts, rolling a nipple between his fingers. The pinching sensation, along with him slamming into you, made you cum with white-hot pleasure. Your back arched, gagged moans leaving your lips.

Eren pressed a thumb against your sensitive bud, rubbing circles around it. You wanted to tell him it was too sensitive, but he was determined to make you cum again. You wriggled your hips, with Eren smirking at the fact he was overstimulating you. He removed his other hand off your thigh, moving it up to your neck, squeezing with his fingertips. His choking wasn’t hard enough to restrict air flow, but it made your head go dizzy, a light faintness washing over you.

He spat down onto your clit, slapping it a few times before continuing to rub it. You could feel another orgasm building, your wrists pulling on the restraint. There were a number of different feelings overpowering your senses, making it hard for you to keep composure. Eren removed his hand from your throat, lifting your hips to allow a slightly different angle. That was enough to push you over the edge, your cum coating his dick a second time. Your cunt tightened around him, almost making him cum, but he held out. He wasn’t done with you yet.

Eren pulled out, hauling your weak body up. He undid the clasp at the back of your head, pulling the gag from your mouth, and loosened the one at your wrists. You rubbed the marks the belt restraint left, sighing as your head felt woozy from pleasure.

“On your knees, facing that way, and put your ass in the air.” He pointed in the direction of the mirror, and you obeyed immediately. You arched your back, pointing your ass high up in the air, your cunt oozing large amounts of cum. Your face pressed into the bed below, your body limp. The bed dipped behind you as Eren knelt between your legs, looking at you through the mirror.

“You’re going to watch me fuck you, got it?” He commanded, retying your wrists behind your back. “I’ve given you the pleasure of talking this time, since you can’t seem to shut the fuck up. So desperate for me, like a bitch in heat. Aren’t you, my little cumslut?” You simply nodded, but Eren pulled you up by your throat, making you whine.

“Answer me, fuck toy.” His hot breath fanned your ear, your body now pressed against his chest.

“Yes- yes, I am. Please, Eren.” You pleaded weakly. Eren scoffed.

“Begging for me? Pathetic.” He released you, your front hitting the mattress. Grabbing the whip, he harshly whipped your ass a few times, pleasure-filled pain coursing through your veins. Every whip made you whimper mercilessly.

The tip of his dick prodded at your opening, before he roughly thrusted in, bottoming out almost immediately. Eren began to thrust in and out of you, his pelvis hitting your ass each time, with his hands gripping your restrained wrists for support. He threw his head back at the feeling of your walls clamping around him, a thin coating of sweat covering his toned body. He looked down at you, seeing your eyes squeezed shut. Anger filled his senses after he’d told you to watch him fucking you, and you were currently disobeying.

Pulling on your hair, he yanked you up forcefully, your hazed expression now one of shock. “I fucking told you to watch me fuck you, didn’t I? You disobedient little shit.” Eren insulted, keeping your body upright as he roughly pounded into you. You watched him in the mirror, his eyes glued to the bouncing of your tits with every movement. This position allowed Eren to hit every spot perfectly, the urge to cum approaching fast.

“Eren, I- I’m gonna cum.” You moaned, his hand moving to your throat to hold your trembling body upright. Until then, he stopped.

You whimpered as Eren pulled out, tears coating your cheeks as you were close to cumming. “What? You didn’t think I was going to let you cum that easily, did you?” One of his hands roamed your body as he spoke, his fingertips brushing your aching clit. “You have to beg for what you want, pretty baby.”

Your cheeks burned up with humiliation before you took a deep breath. “Please Eren, please let me cum. I promise I’ll be good, but I need to cum for you so bad. I can’t hold it anymore.” You whined, hoping your desperate pleas would be enough. You looked at Eren through the mirror, gauging his reaction.

Eren smiled, moving his cock back to your opening, pushing himself in. “That’s my good girl.” He complimented, pushing his fingers against your clit as he resumed forcefully pounding into you, his dick hitting your g-spot in the most delicate way. The prominent veins on his shaft stroked your walls perfectly. After a minute, your orgasm began to build up once again, with Eren able to sense you were on the brink of release. ‘Maybe just once more’, he thought.

Your moans grew desperate, and with Eren pulling on your hair roughly, you were about to cum. Just a few more thrusts until your release, he stopped all movements, again. You groaned in frustration, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. Eren chuckled at your frustration.

“Please stop teasing me.” You quivered, angling your head back to rest tiredly against his shoulder. Eren pulled your lip down and opened your mouth, before he gathered spit in his own, dropping it down onto your tongue. He observed the way it rested there, until you swallowed it, looking at Eren with doe-eyes.

“I think you’ve been good enough. I’ll let you cum next time, darling.” With that, Eren continued his movements, slamming into your cunt with more force than before. He was chasing his own high as well as yours, desperate to make you both reach them. His fingers expertly moved against your clit, the cord in your tummy close to snapping. Your body felt different, your skin warm to the touch.

Eren peppered light kisses down your neck and onto your shoulder, groaning against you. His own knot was becoming unbearably tight. “Fuck, I’m close. Let me fuck a baby into you, yeah? Show everyone you’re mine.” Eren groaned, his hand holding your head back against him by your jaw.

“F-fuck, yes, Eren. Breed me like the bitch I am, please.” You babbled, struggling to form a coherent sentence. Your heart began to race, your thighs trembling. The sensation in your tummy was starting to overwhelm you, and you desperately needed to cum.

“Need to cum so- so bad, Eren.”

“I- I know, pretty girl. Cum with me, yeah?” His moans were filling the room, a sweet melody to your ears. You loved how vocal he was.

You nodded enthusiastically, turning your head to the side to watch Eren pounding into your cunt with no mercy. Loose strands of hair stuck to his forehead, his strong arms holding your shaking body up. He looked so gorgeous.

“Oh God, I- fuck, I’m cumming.” Eren stated breathlessly, his dick twitching inside you. The feeling of your pussy tightening around him was too much. Your cord snapped, pleasure riding through your body as you came, cum squirting from your cunt as you moaned loudly. Eren released, thick spurts of his seed coating your walls, filling you up entirely. He sighed heavily when he came, mumbles of your name escaping his lips. Both of you panted against one another as Eren undid your belt restraint, allowing you to hold yourself up. You collapsed onto your hands, your body aching from tonight’s antics.

Eren sat back, watching as a concoction of his cum and your own began to spill from your hole, dripping onto the bedsheets below. He felt satisfied, jealousy no longer clouding his brain. He climbed off the bed, moving to the en suite bathroom as you regained a steady heart rate. A minute later, he returned, holding a wet rag and began to clean you up, careful not to hurt you. Eren knew you’d be sore for a few days.

Once he finished cleaning you up, gently caressing your ass whilst he did so, he packed away the contents of the box, moving it to the floor. He crawled round to where you now lay, lying on his back next to you, brushing a few strands of hair away from your forehead. Your tired gaze met his, a small smile on each of your faces.

“You and your pathetic envy, Eren.” You mumbled, giggling lightly.

Eren giggled back. “I’m sorry, my love. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good, sweetheart.” You shifted your head to lay on Eren’s chest, his arms snaking around you to hold you tight.

Eren did get jealous easily, but it showed you how much he truly loved you. You were his, and he was proud of that. As he kissed your forehead, cuddling you to his chest, you felt content with your relationship, and wouldn’t change a thing.

It was a love better than you could have ever imagined.

(A/N): The length of this is ridiculous lmao.

I hope you enjoyed! <3

Next One-Shot: Armin Arlert. ෆ 

[backtoyuta]

NCT 127: How they would be as coworkers in a shitty office

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❁ [Taeil] King of the welcome wagon; If it was your first day working in a small dinky business, Taeil will make it his sole responsibility to make the environment as inviting as possible. After all, the business wasn't some glamorous well known company, nor was it an exciting new start up, so Taeil made it his mission to paint the office as pretty as he could before you could decide if the job was too boring to keep. If you ask any of his co-workers they'll tell you nobody put him in charge of welcoming the newbie, but it seemed everybody but you noticed him do a double take at the receptionist's desk where you waited to be shown around. Soft moments included him making you a coffee every time he left to make his own, making a point of clearing a little space in the communal fridge for your lunch and hanging around while trying to maintain a respectful distance in case you had any queries so he could be the first to answer them. If you were low-key dreading your first day, you kinda forget about the nerves quickly because of his kindness and tells you cheerfully "See, we don't bite." Will make sure you have everything you need, down to the last sticky note and ball point pen, and smiles bashfully at you when you go to thank him.

❁ [Johnny] cheesy office romance; It was quite impressive really, the fact that Johnny managed to unlock every single office romance cliche you could think of and he wasn't subtle about it either. Though there was no policy really about dating co-workers, the whole situation was a tiny bit embarrassing given the blatant flirting from the titan walking around in his shirt and tie, always throwing devilish smiles from over the photocopier. Even if his desk was miles away from yours, there would always be an excuse to stroll by your work space to drop off some paperwork personally, or remind you of the meeting happening in the afternoon despite the email reminder going around. Johnny really put his bladder through it since he now took too frequent trips to the water cooler that was so conveniently placed next to your desk. The whole office gagged when you finally agreed to go for drinks after work. The hours were spent buying each other pints and admiring him with his tie loosened and shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing the delicate tattoos that decorated the skin there before calling it a night and letting him kiss you on your porch after walking you home. You kind of became the height of office gossip, which Johnny thrived in, but you couldn't really be mad when you were dating that tall glass of water after all.

❁ [Taeyong] The receptionist with first aid training; Stapling your finger was embarrassing enough, imagine the heat flooding your cheeks when the receptionist appears at your desk clutching the first aid kit, big kind eyes glancing at your finger empathetically. Taeyong was the first face you saw when you walked through the door, that alone making a wonderful first impression, also he was a very diligent worker. He never made a fuss when you asked him to fax something, make a memo or photocopy, and when you had to ring the office because you left your keycard and needed to be let in, he laughed that off with you too while assuring that it happened all the time. On the blasted day you aimed the stapler at your paper but instead caught your finger, Taeyong was the first to perk from behind his desk at your exclamation of "Ow!" and was by your side before you knew it. He apologised profusely at the sting of an anti-bacterial wipe and wrapped your finger gingerly in a plaster, his chair scooted towards you and your knees bumping occasionally. You were pretty sure every female in the office was crushing on him and you were one of many, but you couldn't help the blush when you received a private IM chat asking if you wanted to get coffee after work: "Date? :)" he wrote at the end of the message. You wasted no time typing on your computer a reply, sneaking a glance at his face from behind the desk and exchanging a smile before looking busy once again.

❁ [Yuta] The guy that lowkey terrified you; Yuta was the co-worker that, whether it was on purpose or not, pushed you away with sheer intimidation and sinfully good looks. When you first encountered him in the office you were sure he was a model undercover, and when that was debunked you were sure he must have had a much higher level and higher paying job than you. His presence read corporate, the cologne you sometimes caught a whiff of smelt expensive and you could easily picture him in a big leather chair in a tall glass building barking orders at people. What surprised you was behind the intimidating aura, lay the humility of any of your other co-workers. All it took was one painfully awkward conversation in the break room and with the power of pointless small talk you learnt that his weekend plans didn't involve a modelling side hustle like you expected, but rather being a homebody, watching animated movies and cooking dinner for one instead. When you did finally enter an established relationship with him, expect impulsive moments like being tugged into the copier room so he can press his lips to yours and run his hands through your hair, or intense staring contests when other male co-workers demanded your attention. Overall, he was terrifying, but his redeemable qualities involved making dates after work so you had something to look forward to, buying your favourite cake during office parties and volunteering to do overtime with you so you would always be entertained.

❁ [Doyoung] The manager that scares you shitless; For the position of local branch manager, Doyoung exuded way more power and intimidation than what was probably warranted. Maybe that was why he managed to get the branch performing so well, everybody dreaded being called into his office for "friendly chitchat" after making a small mistake. When you first arrived, you steered as clear from him as possible, only venturing near his office when absolutely needed. What you didn't see was the way he would watch you intently in your little office nook, always appreciating how hard you worked and how cute you looked in your office get-up. You often squirmed at the amount of eye-contact he gave you when he ran meetings and you would glance around to see if anyone else was experiencing the same thing. Nope, just you. When he did call you into his office that one time you were quaking in your shoes. You had already convinced yourself you were fired before you had even reached his office door, but the feeling was replaced soon enough with confusion when he did eventually speak to you. "I just wanted to ask... would you be interested in.... this corporate training program?" He rushed. My god, your boss was just as awkward as the next bumbling guy. It would be a while before he asked you on an official date, dinner for two, also quite a bit of paperwork to fill out with HR, but you would come to realise his icy exterior wasn't all that icy when he wasn't in work-mode.

❁ [Jaehyun] The temp that never left; Jaehyun was fresh from university, now venturing into the world of work but still had the boyish aura that set him apart from the rest of the men in the office. From the way he spoke to you over lunch in the break room you could tell he was full of ambition, but also didn't seem to be in any rush to leave this job any time soon. Jaehyun was the guy who you initially tried not to get too close to, since you were under the impression that he would be leaving after completing the temporary placement and when he left it would hurt like a bitch. However, you could have sworn his placement ended like a month ago, but eventually you learnt that he somehow managed to talk himself into a full-time position. "Oh that, yeah, I guess I just realised I had more reasons to stay." He shrugged as casually as he could when you asked about it. You couldn't deny that you were happy, not when you saw his smiling face in the conference room saving you a seat, hearing his outrageous stories from uni and always being the two to get a little too drunk at corporate parties and being sent home in a taxi of shame. Romance blossomed when you remembered that one drunken kiss in the backseat and you both bonded when your boss gave you the cold shoulder after arriving to work a little more than dishevelled and with a hangover.

❁ [Jungwoo] Desk buddy; Honestly, who could hate their job when they had a sweet Jungwoo sitting at the desk adjacent to theirs. You kinda scored when your boss appointed you this specific desk because Jungwoo took to you almost embarrassingly quick. It made your heart swell looking at all the little knick knacks on his desk; toys to fiddle with and colourful sticky notes, this was just one part of his persona. You were a little shocked when he offered you a cigarette during the lunch break, kind of exposing a duality you didn't know existed, but nobody could be that wholesome of a person. Monday to Friday 9-5 was filled with Jungwoo ping-ponging back and forth between these traits, any off handed comments he would mutter to you when the boss was giving an announcement or the conversations you would overhear him having with a friend over the phone would remind you he wasn't a total puppy of a human being. However, the way he always offered to share a snack and would flick paper and notes at you playfully was also very much him being himself. You always fluttered a little at the smirk he would throw your way when your manager was talking something boring or ridiculous, it seemed those smirks were only reserved for you. It didn't take long before he became your best friend in the office, if he wasn't in that day you were in the right mind to just call it quits yourself (and vice versa), he was the guy that made the long hours that much more bearable.

❁ [Mark] The bumbling intern; When it came to responsibilities in the work place, you tried to delegate as little of that as possible to Mark the intern. It was cute really, the guy put in 110% effort into his tasks and yet when it came to coffee orders, photocopying or sending out a memo, something nearly always went wrong. You couldn't help but admire his enthusiasm, also that he made an effort to know everybody in the office, including the cleaners. Mark was one of the first people to greet you when you joined, waving around a little notebook of Starbucks orders and a company card to splurge, urging you to write down whatever you wanted. A simple task right? Rookie mistake. Bless him, you would never tell him how his mistake of getting full dairy rather than the soy you requested led to a night on and off the toilet, but that just scratched the surface of his office blunders. Somehow, he never cost the company too much, but there was a reason why the poor boy never got promoted beyond intern. He wasn't deterred though, he'd lean up against your desk while you made idle chit chat and he'd tell you that he liked his job and he didn't aspire to be the best in this business. Where he really proved himself was during company functions, you'll never forget during the annual employee bbq when he asked you your favourite song so he could sing it melodically accompanied skilfully with a guitar. Mark's contributions to the work place were always a little unpredictable, but he kept things interesting and people, including you, genuinely enjoyed having him around.

❁ [Haechan] Probably the reason you get fired; Even in the workplace, Haechan can't deny himself a bit of mischief. He made a stellar first impression by rocking up half an hour late, sending your boss a half arsed apology and plonking down at the desk across the room from yours. To be honest, he kind of annoyed you at first, his attitude came off immature and you didn't appreciate how distracting he was when you had work to do. However, things started to change at some point. Haechan was the guy that convinced you to ditch the office party and sit on the rooftop with him to watch the city lights, the guy that sent out ridiculous memos just to catch you smile and the guy eventually became the reason for you own demise after he started picking you up for breakfast most mornings. When the manager called you in his office after being late the third time in a row, you ducked your head and mumbled something about traffic while hiding a croissant wrapper in your pocket, Haechan covered a laugh with a cough and apologised on behalf of both of you. When you asked him about why he never seemed to give a shit about anything, you learnt that it was because he had a taste for adventure; "Don't tell me you wanna stay and work here forever? Don't you wanna do something more... exciting with your life?" He asked you incredulously, like the answer was obvious. He kinda got you, no, you didn't want to work in a dingy office for the rest of you life. To be honest, when he painted a picture of moving to a big city, or taking a road trip, or just fucking off to the suburbs you didn't hate the sound of that either. When you were both sat there in your manager's office, signing off on a severance package, you weren't even mad. You didn't have time to be, Haechan was already clasping your hand and leading you to his car and laughing about finally being free, tugging his tie from around his neck whilst driving no where in particular- the start of an adventure.

[whirlybirbs]

MOONLIT DUNES.    ;    boba fett / reader     ;     1 / ?

summary: you’ve found many things in the dunes. a gravely injured mandalorian is a new thing to add to the ever growing list. set directly after return of the jedi. 

word count: 3.5k

pairing: boba fett / scavenger!reader

tags: some body horror, injury mention, boba loses his leg, reader does first aid,  the great pit of carkoon really did one on our man

a/n: my hand slipped i swear.............. (this has been in the works since may)

In all your years spent drifting about the land of Tatooine, you’ve found many things in the dunes.

Rare racing pod parts that had been discontinued after years of upgrades... Discarded weaponry, no doubt used for something more nefarious than Bantha hunting... and many, many skulls, sentient and otherwise.

Such comes with the life of a scavenger — live off the land and the things buried deep; harvest trinkets of lives long since forgotten in the ever changing tides of glittering sand.

However, never in your life —  in all the days spent beneath the twin brother suns —  have you ever found someone alive in the dunes.

Until today, that is.

You should have known venturing North of Mos Eisley was a bad idea. After all, the plains beyond the space port were ridden with starved sarlacc pits. But, with Tanto — the resident Junk Boss — down your throat about catching up on your few owed debts, you’d decided to weigh the risk and trek on towards the looming beast on the horizon: the Great Pit of Carkoon. With any luck, you’d be able to scavenge what little undigested pieces the massive creature had belched back up — maybe some Gamorian armor, or a blaster or two — after one of Jabba’s usual disposal runs.

Ah, Jabba.

Rumor had it that Jabba Desilijic Tiure was dead.

You knew better than to ask about mere rumors being tossed around the clock-out lines as you turned in your hauls for the day. Like you did every evening, you kept your head down. But, you did listen. You always listen — and from what you could gather, there’d already been a few scavenging parties dispatched to the Northern region.

Something about a jedi, a princess and a hell of a mess.

Not that any of that mattered — because dwelling on some fantastical retelling of a lie by Frokop Golp, the resident drunk swindler, wasn’t going to keep you fed. You were hoping that at the least, the part about one of Jabba’s sail barges going down by the Great Pit of Carkoon wasn’t a lie. Then, you could maybe find a few transistor coolant coils...

The dawning realization that you were betting another day’s ration portion on a spun half-truth embellished by the local drunkard hits you as your dewback, a kindly older male you’d named Scud, finally reaches the crest of the highest dune overlooking the Carkoon wastes. For a moment, as you squint into the setting sun, you wonder if this is even going to be worth it.

You sigh, adjusting the light linen face covering over your nose and mouth, and gently urge Scud forward.

No use in dwelling. You’re already here.

“Hup.”

As you near, the wreckage seems to have been picked over completely. Scud plods slowly towards the wreck, tail swatting cautiously as the sarlacc a few meters ahead gives a low hiss at the vibrations riling it awake through the sand. You rock with the slow canter, one hand on the horn of the saddle and the other moving to reach behind you to your pack.

There rests a longspear — the top is crowned with the head of a gaderffii. You’d made it ages ago, well before your fifteen birthday, and it had become as much as a steadfast companion as Scud himself. With a flick and a satisfying click, the longspear extends from it’s compacted state. Resting the butt end against your forearm as Scud continues his meandering pace, you run the spear tip through the sand to your left.

No give.

The dunes creating a wall around the beast’s mouth stand strong. Over the large ridge, and a handful of meters away, tentacles swing eagerly through the air like malicious little whips, hungry for their next meal. The hulking beast, well over 10,000 years old, knows you’re here now — the desperate moan from it’s gaping maw is enough of an indication of that fact.

For now, keeping your distance and guiding Scud towards the barge, you’re safe.

The party barge had certainly seen better days — seems like a bolt from the main gun had ruptured a fuel line below the deck. Half submerged in an encroaching dune, you’re not surprised to be greeted by the foul stench of sun-rotting corpses as you hop down from Scud. Your boots, made of stretched and tanned Bantha hide, kick up a cloud of dust when you land.

Even with the twin suns beginning to set, the sand is hot.

There are footpaths leading to the barge, partially washed away by the wind pulling the sand closer to the mangled helm of the ship. Patting Scud’s neck as you pass, you grip your staff tightly — one tap of the durasteel spear to the twisted hole in the starboard side sends a scattering hiss of a pack of womp rats caught lounging in the evening shade. Carefully, you duck beneath the warped siding and over the lip of metal, eyes flicking around the cavernous sail barge.

The engine room is where you find yourself… or, well, what’s left of it. The engine has since bottomed out of the barge, no doubt laying in the dunes a few meters away. The smell of propulsion liquid burns in your nostrils, even with your white linen head-covering wrapped tight across your face.

You move on, hauling yourself towards the engine and grabbing two of the smaller propulsion pistons from the transmission. You swing your staff across your shoulder. The strap digs into your neck as you lean into the engine and try to disconnect the main hydraulic line from the engine part.

There’s a part of you, small and girlish, that remembers being scared of dark wreckages like this when you were younger. The terrifying scenario of stumbling into a krayt dragon’s nest used to play over and over in your head; and even now, the irrational little thought nags the back of your mind like a bite from a sand flea. What was rumbling beneath the sand, ready to make you its next meal?

In reality, the most likely scenario would be Tusken scouts roughing you up over encroaching on their territory.

Scud, though, you trusted enough to give holler at the sight of another being — skittish was one of his best traits, especially when sometimes the biggest danger out here in the dunes (aside from sarlaccs) was other sentients.

If the Kiqan tribe spotted you this far out? At worst, you’d lose some of the scavenged parts from earlier in the day as a barter. The Kiqan, the tribe local to this region, knew well enough that the majority of scavengers meant well. Unlike some of the tribes native to the Western lands, the Kiqans have come to terms with the traffic coming in and out of Mos Eisley.

Their chief, a broad and strong woman called Rhaza’hoq, led a clan of twenty Tusken men and women. On more than one occasion, you’d crossed paths with her — you’d come to recognize the womp rat jaw as a part of her head covering and a pelt of bantha donning her shoulders. Though their native tongue felt wrong to you, like prying dry sounds right from your throat, you’d tried to apologize for your trespass.  

That seemed to have been enough respect garnered for the chief to allow you to pass through the Bo’mar Flats in peace. You’d even offered up an armful of rifle components as a gesture of good faith — one you haven’t regretted since.

If they were to catch you here, you’d lose a good lump sum of money. The two battered sheets of durasteel strapped to the side of Scud, each four feet by four feet, would catch a fair price at the Junkyard in Mos Eisley. So, you quietly resign your attempt to dislodge the third propulsion piston and shoulder the two others. Your sack swings heavily against your hip as you plant your boot on the lip of the engine and reach through the hole the ignition blast caused in the floor.

Almost as immediately as you haul yourself up do you regret it.

The smell is wretched, and as you cough and gag you can’t help but recoil in disgust.

Your arrival on the main floor of the sail barge brings with it the cacophonous sound of cave beetles wings; the insects scatter as you press your forearm to your face — you’re left only to stare in horror at the sight before you.

Jabba Desilijic Tiure was very dead.

The infamous Hutt is little more than a snack for the various animals who have come and gone from the wreckage, now. Reduced only to a rotting mess of flesh and bones, you feel the swell of bile creep up into your throat as you tear your gaze away.

“Gods above,” you heave, coughing loudly.

That’s when you hear it.

A weak sound.

A strangled moan.

Small, quiet, and nearly nothing but a whimper.

For a moment, your muscles seize up so tightly that you're left holding your breath — was that you? Had that sound slipped from your throat the moment you’d let your eyes slip to the open windows along the starboard side of the ship, overlooking the Great Pit beyond the dune ridge?

Then, you see him.

It’s the single weak raise of a gloved hand in the dirt that spurs you into motion.

Scud, too, in that moment must have realized you both weren’t alone — he gives a great baying moan as you scramble, slipping through the whole and back down the engine. You scale it with ease, staff swung over your shoulder at the ready the moment your boots hit the ground.

You dart out into the sun, escaping the festering wreck, and bolt towards what you had previously thought was just a mangled, twisted piece of a rear booster. Making your way up the rising dune, you groan and push your muscles to reach what you now recognized as a destroyed jetpack — and beneath it, a man.

Your spear greets his body first, rounded butt end planting itself beneath his side and with one good nudge, rolling him over.

That’s when you realize he is very much alive and he is very much missing a leg.

Almost immediately, you sink to the dirt.

He’s big. His chest bears a cracked and scathed piece of armor. One arm, with a tattered sleeve and no glove, bears a shoulder pauldron with an insignia long since charred away. It seems like the entire left side of his body had been scorched by some sort of blast. His jetpack, mangled and shredded, is the first to go. You unbuckle the straps along his arms with an utterance of apology.

You’re greeted with a low groan. Slight protest.

Confusion.

His eyes do not open. Swollen eyelids stay shut.

Clicking your tongue and hollering in Huttese, your lumbering dewback trods closer.

His face is sunburnt, the plains of his sharp cheekbones blistering from the exposure to the sun and sand — though, something ticks in the back of your mind. These burns are fresh. From the last day at least. Suddenly, you’re wondering if he’s a fellow scavenger who’d fallen into the pit.

The jetpack would explain the escape.

You toss the pack down the hill.

You follow it, tripping down the sand towards the side of Scud as you scramble for one of the durasteel sheets. Laying it flat on the hot sand, you wonder how on earth this man had survived this long…. A day at least, judging by the sand swept around him and the burns along his arms and face. How long had he been in The Pit?

Gods above.

The Bo’mar Flats were not a kind place when left to the elements.

You land beside the man once more, this time speaking loudly.

“I am going to help you.”

You’re not sure if you’re saying it more for yourself or him.

There’s a part of you, as your eyes flick down to the stump of his left leg, that would give anything to turn away. Ride off, forget the gorish scene. Yet, the better part of you knows you’d simply come back come morning and do the same thing you’re doing now.

And then, come daybreak, he may not even be alive.

You tell yourself, as you squat and try and get a good grip, that you’re doing exactly what anyone else would do. But the reality is that’s far from the truth. Out here, it’s eat or be eaten.

With your luck, you’re stumbling into a metaphorical krayt dragon’s nest helping this man.

If only you knew.

You root both your fists in the material around his shoulders, worn enough to show the outline of where armor used to sit. And you pull.

It’s no easy feat. Even with gravity working in your favor, you’re struggling to haul the large man down the dune. The sand simply drags along, digging him into the dune as you curse in Huttese and spit out profanities sharp enough to make Scud shift on his peds. Your knuckles ache, fingernails having dug half moons into your palms through the material of his under-armor tunic. Landing backwards, you curse. But, you get back up again, and you pull.

It takes ten minutes to move him two meters to the durasteel sled downhill — and even longer to maneuver him onto the steel piece of scavenged material. By the end of it, you’re prying your scarf from your mouth to breath. Sweat tickles the back of your neck as your hands hit your knees and you groan.

“Koochoo,” you hiss at yourself in Huttese. Idiot is right. This is stupid.

Throughout this, the wounded man has offered nothing, not a single peep — you wonder if his last ditch hail of his hand was the only bit of energy he had left.

With him now on the makeshift sled, you move towards Scud’s left pack. Inside, you dig out your canteen and a spare bacta pack. The water sloshes around the hollow metal sphere. Once cold from your early hour of embarking, it’s warm to the touch.

It’s been a hot day.

Overhead, the twin suns have melted into a hazy coral color. They hang low across the horizon, suspended in a flickering bob of heat that dances across the clouds.

You fall to your knees in the sand. You need to move quickly. Soon, the sun will set and getting back to your hut just north of Mos Eisley is an hour’s ride at best.

The lower part of his left leg, from the knee down, is gone. The bleeding had long since stopped, clotted up from the sand and what looks like corrosive burns… Sure enough, the same patterning around his wrists tell you he sure as all kriff has been in the belly of the Great Pit of Carkoon. It’s the stomach acid that has melted the skin together just enough to halt the bleeding along his knee.

You exhale. Short and quick. Then, you pour your water across the limb.

That earns a loud groan of protest. Good to know he’s still alive.

The bacta is next, squeezed from the age old tube in a glob that lands above the wound. With an iron gut and quick sense of criticality, you rinse your own hands with water, all before holding your breath and pushing the palm sized amount across the mangled flesh and muscle. You try not to think about the way your own knee twitches, and instead, focus on planting your hand on the man’s chest — for the first time, he gives a true indication he feels it. The man writhes, contorting himself as a painful series of expletives fly from his mouth.

The chest plate buckles slightly, and when you lift your palm, the dirt smeared away shows a small emblem… Tan and green and red. What looks like wheat and a drop of blood…

It’s familiar, but you can’t remember why. You’ve seen it somewhere. Chewing the inside of your lip, you tear your eyes away and you move on. In a flash, you’ve hauled the linen head wrap from your hair. With the sun setting, you won’t need it as much as he will — keeping the sand out of the clean-enough wound will make a difference once you get him back to your home.

A part of you wonders if this man has any credits at all — truth be told you certainly don’t have enough to cover a visit to the local doctor. As you finish tying off his thigh, you reason that conversation is a bridge you can cross when you get there. For now, let’s just hope you can get him back to your dwelling alive.

Away from this wretched wreck.

By the time you’re mounted back up on Scud’s back, the suns have begun to dip below the dunes on the farthest horizon — the stars melt as they disappear, casting the shadows of the dunes in inky blacks. Behind Scud, the stranger is dragged, rigged to the saddle by two extending cables originally scavenged off an abandoned pod-racing setup, out by Bestine. The plating he rests on glides across the sand, leaving patterns in the dunes. You crane your neck, turning in the saddle, and frown.

There was certainly a first for everything.

⋆   ⋆   ⋆

Boba Fett wakes to the sight of a dirt ceiling.

The stirring confusion of unconsciousness subsides and almost immediately he is roused by pain — then comes the startling panic.

Is he dead?

Where is he?

What in the hell happened?

This is not the barge; there is no Luke Skywalker here, nor Solo nor the Wookie... The Pit… He’d fallen in. Yea, yea, he remembers that. But, he got out. Jetpack punctured. Flew him straight into the air. Burns. That’s the pain he feels. Burns? Yes. His back.

His leg. Something feels different. An ache. He tries to move his feet.

Boba groans, angled features contorting into a pained look as he tries to sit up on the cot; but suddenly, there’s a hand on the center of his chest. Gently, the hand pushes him down to the pillows.

Slowly, dark brown eyes follow the hand. Wrist, arm, shoulder, face.

Headscarf.

The first thing he realizes is that your eyes are beautiful, but soft. There’s kohl lining your eyes, making your stare piercing. Your brows are knotted in concern, and though he cannot make out the words that fall from your lips, he can understand the tone to be gentle. You’re speaking Huttese.

… Gods damn it all.

The Hutts.

Jabba.

Son of bitch was probably dead. He’s sure that the Desilijic Clan will have something to say about that.

Boba’s eyes slip shut as he exhales.

Sleep takes him easily.

⋆   ⋆   ⋆

When he wakes again, it’s evening. There are candles burning in the room, and once his eyes adjust he can make out your figure through a blanket covering the doorway at the end of the room — through the crack, he can see that you’re cooking over a small stove-top. He is laid up in the bedroom, he realizes, and on the floor across from the cot he lays upon is a pile of pillows.

You must have been watching over him.

Instantly, he’s looking for his blaster.

Call it a habit.

The mere act of bending sends pain shooting up his spine; and Boba finds himself gritting his jaw tightly as his knuckles tense and he tries to see any remnants of his armor or pack or weapons.

The commotion summons you in a flash.

This time, you have no headscarf on; Boba can now see the swell of your lips and the kind slope of your nose. You’re beautiful — his bruised and bloodshot eyes follow you as you glide into the room and duck beneath the patterned blanket separating the bedroom from the kitchenette.

There’s a plate of food in your hand. A fork and a knife rest on the edge of the painted plate.

“Careful,” comes a gentle utterance as you place the food beside his head on the table there, “Take it easy.”

Your basic is dashed with the light accent of Huttese. The syllables are melodic and gentle. You reach to help him into a sitting position, keen on making sure he’s comfortable —

Like a sand viper, the man before you has snatched the knife from the plate, swinging his hand quickly with a lethal sense of precision that stuns you silent. The coolness of the durasteel utensil is pressed right to your throat.

You can see the muscles in his arms tense, the sharp rise and fall of his bare chest. The blanket across his lap has slipped to his waist. Your jaw tilts upward, expression souring quickly. The kindness in your eyes quickly turns to ice.

When you raise your eyes to meet his, all Boba can see is defiance.

“Who are you?” he grits out hoarsely, “And how did I get here?”

“I found you,” you hiss, words scathing and hot as you raise both hands. There’s a wrinkle forming on the bridge of your nose, giving way to the angered expression flooding your face, “I’m beginning to see why The Great Pit of Carkoon spat you back up.”

The tension that builds settles heavily between you both.

And then, Boba Fett lowers the knife.

[queen-of-my-goofball-army]

Why YOU should give Rush a chance

Okay, so right off the bat, this is not going to be like my other posts on my blog. This is not a post about some show that has captivated my interest or anything at all related to animation. If that's not your cup of Dot rambling coffee, than I would highly recommend you take your L right now and come back for your regularly scheduled programming in a few days.

Are they gone? Okay cool! For those of you that stuck around past my forewarning let me tell you about my newest special interest to join my now growing music love affair with 80's and 90's Rock n Roll. For those of you that don't know, I'm guessing that most of you do not know what Rush even is. If you are not somehow on the autism spectrum or know a lot about music in general than this band will be entirely unknown to you. Rush is a three man progressive rock band born in Canada made up of three incredibly amazing men Gary "Geddy" Lee, his best friend since he was 11 years old Alex Lifeson, and last but most certainly not least, the amazingness that was Rush's drummer and songwriter Neil Peart. Together, the three of them changed the world of progressive rock through Geddy's unique vocal qualities, Alex's incredibly underrated shredding guitar skills, and Neil's immaculate drums and lyrics. I am here to tell you, yes YOU reading this length rambling message in three sections to keep this fair. Each member will get their own sections and I will try my hardest to keep personal bias out of this. I also just watched Rush: Beyond The Lighted Stage yesterday with my mom so I will mention some things that we talked about during it to try and sell people.

Geddy Lee:

* Geddy has one of the most unique voices in all of rock music. This will most likely be the thing that turns off the people that do listen to me and wind up listening to a couple of songs. He has had a lot of critics for his higher pitched voice usually yelling lyrics. However, I love his singing voice. It is filled with energy and power to it. His voice has a weight to it that not a whole lot of other people can really nail if they really want to.

* You want to talk about sheer talent? How many of you all know lead singers that are a one and done kind of singer? They can play one instrument and they're done? Well shove them aside because Geddy can play not only bass guitar but a double neck bass, synthesizer, and piano. Yeah I think all you haters can stand aside because this man will always be amazing technically.

* So many of lead singers in my opinion, think that they own the band. Because they get to sing the songs right? That means that they get to make all the important decisions and they can't ever do anything wrong. Well for those of you that know Rush, you will remember the synthesizer era. The era of new wave Rush where Geddy shelved his bass guitars for his synthesizer. This caused a small rift between Lee, Lifeson, and Peart who were not at all fans of the way that the synthesizer was going. While Geddy was having a fun time with it, he shelved the synthesizer almost for good and went back to his roots. I don't know many other lead singers that would put up something that they were legitimately having a good time with just for his bandmates.

* Geddy's just general goofball personality is something that continues to make me chuckle. Since he and Alex have known each other for practically ever (they met when they were 11) and have been there for each other for most of their lives they have very similar energy's.

Alex Lifeson:

* Alex Lifeson is an underrated guitarist. There I said it. I feel like of the three of them (Geddy, Alex, and Neil) Alex gets talked about the least due to the fact that Geddy also plays guitar. While it might be a different brand of guitar some people forget just how genuinely face melting his solos are. I could listen to his riff in Tom Sawyer all day long I swear. I'm still working my way through every Rush album in chronological order (I'm just now finishing A Farewell To Kings an absolutely beautiful album.) But his skills are not one to be downsized and I think he is an amazing, amazing guitar player.

* You want to talk about the group goofball? If Geddy is goofy, you look in the dictionary this man is the pure definition of a hilarious and quirky character. When Rush was FINALLY indicted into the Rock N'Roll hall of fame in 2013, after Neil and Geddy's beautiful and moving speech's about how important this means to them, Alex gets up there and his entire speech is spoken in very animated BLAHs. But what's really funny is that if you watch carefully he is actually trying to tell you a story. It's a story about how they all got there past the critics that tried to stop them along the way.

* I love the relationship between Alex and Geddy especially. They're just both such unique kinds of people but they have similar quirks and traits that are evidence of decades upon decades of friendship. I get massive big bro vibes from watching the three of them play together and it's really touching that they never let the fame go to their heads.

* While watching the documentary, I found myself in awe of just his general personality. He was a jokester and the life of the party, and even if sometimes Neil was exhausted by his presence it was obvious that he loved his bros.

Neil Peart:

* If you are asking me, the heart and soul of Rush, was their drummer Neil Peart. Neil wasn't just their drummer though, he also wrote all of Rush's songs after their first album together. Neil grew up probably the biggest bookworm to ever bookworm. He was a socially awkward kid it seemed since he was always reading as his parents explained in the documentary (more on this laster). This resulted in lyrics that are absolutely gorgeous in any context and sound like literature themselves. One of my favorite Rush songs is their song Rivendale themed to Lord Of The Rings.

* Peart was one of the most technically amazing drummers of all time. I don't think I'm saying new information when I say that. He has been praised for not only his technical prowess but the intensity of how he played as well. He was a force of nature when you put him in front of a drum kit. The drum solos in Rush are not easy. They are technically extremely difficult and always leave me to collect my jaw from the floor.

* Lyrically speaking, his lyrics were so intelligent and beautifully worded that it's hard to focus on them sometimes. I've listened to Fly By Night I can't tell you how many times just within the last few months. They are so unique, so beautiful, just so Rush. I can't think of any other word to describe them other than Rush. Nobody else could have written lyrics like these other than Neil himself. Even though he's gone now (Rest In Power you absolute Mad Lad.) I still feel like his music will resonate with millions of future generations to come. It could be the year 3000 for all I care and people will still be jamming to Tom Swayer, just you watch.

* Lastly about Neil himself, this is of the opinion of my mom and I, and you heard it here first, I think that Neil was aspie. He was the quietest of the three of them, he hated getting spotted by fans while the other two seem to tolerate it, he was constantly stimming with his drumsticks on and off the stage by spinning them around his fingers, he was totally nerdy and antisocial, he loved literature more than anything else growing up and would rather have a book in his hands than go out to a public place with his classmates, and he grieved in a different way than most people do. When his wife and daughter passed away, he hit the road with his motorcycle and most often Geddy and Alex wouldn't hear from him for months at a time. They had cute little nicknames for each other that Neil would always sign the postcards with. It was a different one every single time.

Thanks for listening to me ramble on this day guys! I really appreciate it, I know that this hasn't been your regularly schedule Dot programming but I really appreciate you sticking around! Give Rush a listen to if I've piqued your interest you will not regret it.

[keanureevesisbae]

Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat - Chapter 1

Summary: Veterinarian Olivia Tran has zero time for bullshit. After becoming a mom at age twenty three, the one thing she wants is a good life for her daughter Vanessa. Her ex didn’t want anything to do with her nor the baby and she decided that man are officially banned out of her life. But then she meets Henry Cavill at her clinic and her ban slowly starts to crumble apart. Henry on the other hand is looking for one thing: a family. And when he meets Olivia Tran, he finds just that.

Henry Cavill x Olivia Tran (ofc)

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 2.4k

A/N: The beginnings of a new fic! It’s kind of a build up, so there isn’t a lot of Henry Cavill inthis chapter, but the next one is from his pov and more than 4.5k. I hope you like this new story 🤗

Masterlist // Next chapter

For fuck’s sake, I can still smell the fluids from those anal glands I have been popping all day. Even when you wear gloves every single time, that penetrating smell will just stay with you.

After a long day at the clinic, I can finally call it a day. Of course, I’m on call tonight, but other than that, I can relax now. Working as a vet has always been a dream of mine and now, at the ripe age of twenty nine, I have managed to become doctor Olivia Tran, one of the loved veterinarians here.

‘See you tomorrow, Belle,’ I yell to my best friend and other veterinarian at this clinic.

‘You on call tonight?’ Belle asks.

‘I am.’

‘If you need to go, I can’t watch Vanessa tonight,’ she tells me, while she is checking the ears of a pug, who seems to have severe breathing problems from the looks of it. ‘I have a date.’

‘No worries,’ I say to her with a smile. ‘I probably don’t need to go anyways. Hasn’t happened in the past months, so I highly doubt that something will change tonight. Please let me know how your date went tomorrow.’

Belle, the gorgeous brunette with legs for days and blue eyes as big as Rapunzel, flashes me a bright smile. ‘Of course, dear. Give Vanessa a big kiss for me, will you?’

‘Will do.’ I walk out of the clinic, give a sweet Jack Russell a scratch behind his ear and check my watch. I have twenty minutes before I have to pick up Vanessa, but it’s a fifteen minute walk if I hurry and if I just stroll around, it’s twenty minutes. Can I manage to buy myself some cookies or should I wait after I picked her up?

I think I would have a very happy six year old if I waited with the cookies after I picked her up from school.

I bury my hands in the pockets of my coat. Yesterday it was official: the summer has passed and autumn is here. I always love it when I see the green leaves slowly turning orange or brown and cover the pavement with a blanket of crunchy leaves. It’s Vanessa’s favorite season as well, but that’s mostly because it’s her birthday on November 12th.

I never planned on becoming a mother at twenty three. I never really gave it a big thought, the idea of having kids. In the far far far future I might’ve become one, but I always thought I had more cool aunt potential.

The day I found out I was pregnant, I was scared, but since I was in a pretty serious relationship with Wesley for almost three years, the man I thought I’d end up marrying, I figured we would make this work. We would marry, have this kid and live happily ever after, maybe even have a few more.

But Wesley broke up with me when I told him about the pregnancy and that I was going to keep the baby. I went to my parents for comfort, thinking that they and my two brothers would be supportive of this. We got through the time that I was partying all night, getting tattoos and smoked some weed out of my window. I mean, we would be able to handle this right?

But my parents kicked me out when I told them I was pregnant and I was going to keep the baby. ‘But what about your degree?’ I can still hear my mother say those words, but what was maybe the worst thing, was seeing my brothers turning their backs to me. Their literal backs towards me. ‘You worked so hard and you just got a job as a vet,’ my mom began to yell.

To be fair, I was their only hope. My brothers dropped out of high school and are now sort of working in construction, but they can hardly finish a job ever. My mother never worked  a day in her life and my father was a lawyer. I told them that I could work something out, with a bit of help of them, but my mother just pushed me out of their house and told me to never bother them again, if I was going to have a kid out of wedlock.

So I had to do it by myself. I had to find a place for me and the baby to stay, but thankfully Belle was already working at the vet and decided that I needed a bit of help. I could stay with her, even after the baby was born. Belle went with me to the ultrasounds and when I went into labor, she was right there with me.

Belle is Vanessa’s one and only aunt and my best friend. When you get pregnant and not only your boyfriend leaves, your family disappears out of your life, you also notice how many people despise you. My friends from college all of the sudden seemed to have fallen off the earth and never checked in with me.

Now I have a happy six year old, a nice home for the two of us and a baby sitter Belle, who is becoming less and less available, since she has discovered the world of Tinder, because she wants a boyfriend.

I hear the bell ring when I step onto the schoolyard. It doesn’t take long before I see my daughter running towards me. Her baby blue coat is hanging open, her backpack in her hand and a rolled paper in the other. She insisted on wearing her boots to school today, but leave it to her to cover them in mud.

Entirely.

I catch her when she jumps in my arms. ‘I missed you, my lovely lady,’ I say to her.

Vanessa peppers my face with kisses, something she always does when I pick her up from school. I brush the hairs out of her face, including the sweet bangs that she insisted on having. Originally she wanted the same haircut as me from when I was the same age as her, but since I have severe traumas of the bowl cut, I had to spare her that and opt for some sweet thin bangs.

‘Mommy,’ she says, ‘I missed you a lot.’

‘Well, you want to go to the store, so we can buy some cookies?’ I ask her. ‘And maybe tonight we can order a pizza.’

‘Yes, yes, yes!’ She gives me a tight hug.

Sometimes I doubt my parenting skills, especially when I look around the schoolyard. I watch those mothers who are housewives, with very handsome husbands and kids that always look formidable and put together and probably only eat fatty snacks on their birthdays. Sometimes I wished I had that: a husband, a man that Vanessa could look up to.

I figured that when my ex Wesley couldn’t provide that, my brothers and father would step in and treat my daughter like they treated me: a princess.

Now I have to do that myself.

It can be tiring, being both the mother and the father for Vanessa, but if I could turn back time, I’d do it all over again.

With Vanessa’s tiny hand in mine, we walk towards the store, to buy some cookies that I desperately craved the entire day I was at work.

Vanessa looks a lot like me. She’s basically my clone. People often stop us, simply to tell us that Vanessa is like a miniature version of me. I always like compliments about my daughter. I mean, she is my world.

When we arrive at home, I help her change into something more comfy. ‘Mommy, can we please have a pajama night?’ Vanessa asks, while I help her out of her dress.

‘It’s four in the afternoon,’ I say, knowing exactly what she wants. ‘You want to wait two hours before you wear your pajamas?’

Vanessa shakes her head. ‘No, I want to wear my pjs now.’ Her bright smile nearly lights up the room. I watch her nose scrunch up as the corners of her mouth curl up, the only trait that she inherited from her biological father. ‘Are you going to wear yours too?’

I don’t have anywhere to go and besides, after all popping all those anal glands today, I desperately want to get out of these clothes. ‘Yes, sweetie, I’m going to wear mine too, but first I’m going to take a shower.’

‘No bath, mommy? Because I like baths.’ Her dark brown eyes start to gleam with enthusiasm. ‘Please, mommy, please.’ She pouts, knowing damn well I can’t say no to that.

≫≫≪≪

The second Vanessa is in bed, I have some time for myself. I love every second we get to spend together, but it’s nice to have a breather every now and then. I stare at my arms, to see how Vanessa has colored in my tattoos. She’s obsessed with them and when she’s in school, she sometimes tries to draw them on her own arms by memory, sometimes even drawing on others when they want to. A few weeks ago, her teacher asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up. ‘Well, I want to be two things,’ Vanessa told her. ‘Like my mommy I want to be a vet, because I love animals, but I also want to draw tattoos on people.’

I sit up straight, looking at the drawing she made me today in school. She always makes drawings for me, but they are always the same. She draws a house, with me in it and herself. And outside she draws a dog and a man, with suitcases and moving boxes next to them. ‘Because,’ she explains every single time, ‘one day you meet a nice man who has a dog and he can become my new daddy. A daddy that does want me.’

Belle didn’t agree on me telling Vanessa her real dad didn’t want her, but I figured she needed to know the truth. Her biological father is a low life that disappeared into thin air and didn’t want to be involved in her life.

Vanessa understood, to the extent that was possible, but she really wants a dad, preferably one with a dog. Though she keeps pushing me, I can’t start dating again. Vanessa is the most important person in the world and men simply don’t fit into this—in my head—perfect picture. Vanessa is my life and men are big fat losers, so I don’t need them. I don’t want them, because the chance of them getting tired of maybe me, maybe Vanessa and leaving, is something I can’t risk.

Vanessa already lost her real father, what if a man that becomes really important to her, leaves too?

At around eleven I drag myself to bed, placing my work phone beside me. I hate being on call, but like I told Belle, I didn’t have a call in months, so I think I’m good.

I’m dreaming about Keanu Reeves (the only man on earth that I’d break my no man ban for) and how he takes me out on a lovely date, has Vanessa on his lap and helps her to cut her food, when the phone starts to ring.

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ I mutter, before I click on my nightlight. It’s three in the fucking morning. I don’t want this. ‘Animal Clinic Westside, doctor Olivia Tran, how may I help you?’ I say when I pick up the phone.

‘Hello, I’m terribly sorry for calling at this hour, but my dog is vomiting and I see some blood in it.’ Oh, poor man, he sounds so panicked. ‘He collapsed and is breathing really heavily and I don’t know what to do.’

I sit up straight in bed and rub my eyes, as I try to be as alert as I can on this early morning. ‘Sir, it’s okay. Did your dog eat anything out of the ordinary today?’

‘Not that I know of.’

‘You think it’s possible for you to come to the clinic? I’d like to see the dog.’

‘Of course, of course.’ The man on the other side of the line has such a lovely and deep voice. He could become a voice actor or a narrator like Morgan Freeman. If liquid gold had a voice, it would sound like this.

‘I hope it’s not too much to ask, but could you take some of the vomit with you? Especially the part with some blood. I’d like to check it.’

‘I’ll bring it with me, of course.’

‘What kind of breed is your dog, sir?’ I ask, while writing it all down on a piece of paper.

‘An American Akita. His name is Kal.’

I don’t think he ever went to our clinic, I think to myself.

‘I’ll be at the clinic in about forty minutes, mister…’ I say, hoping that this man will say his name.

‘Cavill,’ he quickly says. ‘And I can be at the clinic in about an hour.’

That name does sound kind of familiar though, but I could’ve sworn that this man isn’t in our database. Maybe I went to college with him or to high school?

After we hang up the phone, I quickly get out of bed. I opt for a pair of tight fitted black leggings and an oversized sweater (after I put on a bra, because who knows mister Cavill is handsome and my nipples don’t want to keep that a secret) and I slip on some white sneakers. I put my hair into a bun. I freeze when I’m moisturizing my face.

I kind of forgot I had a daughter. I don’t like the idea of bringing Vanessa with me, especially since it’s three in the morning and she’s asleep, but then I realize that tomorrow it’s Saturday. Plenty of time for her to catch up on her sleep and plenty of time for me to feel less guilty about dragging her out of her dreams.

‘Sweetie,’ I whisper, when I gently wake her up. ‘Mommy has to go to the clinic, but you can’t stay at aunt Belle tonight, so you’re going with me to work.’

Vanessa was a groggy mess when I nudged her awake, but when she realizes she can go with me to work, her eyes light up. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, someone has a sick doggy, that needs to be taken care of.’

She gets up out of her bed and I help her with her socks, though she is perfectly capable of doing so herself. ‘You’re gonna save a doggy?’ Vanessa asks.

‘I’m going to try.’

I hand her a thick vest and while she puts it on, she says: ‘You’re a hero, mommy.’

With a smile on my face, I softly pinch her cheek. ‘I guess I am.’

Taglist: @thelastsock​ // @flhorah​ // @sausagefest1996​ // @laufeysodinson​ // @xxxkatxo​ // @memoriesat30​ // @henrythickcavill​ // @crimsonrae​ // @henryobsessed // @madbaddic7ed​ // @summersong69​

[welllpthisishappening]

Should Auld Acquaintance be Forgot

Honestly, Emma was less mad about the whole thing than she expected. Disappointed, that was the word. And everyone knew that disappointed was far worse than mad. 

Because being dateless on New Year’s Eve was one thing. Being dateless while pining over a roommate with a secret Match.com profile and apparent relationship-type desires that were the complete opposite of her was—

Disappointing, really. 

If Killian kissed anybody, she was going to drink an entire bottle of champagne by herself. 

-----

Rating: Teen, kissing, far too many Grinch references

Word Count: 9.2K

AN: Today is our last festive prompt! Or, at least one that’s a stand-alone story. Our said prompts come from @kmomof4​ who asked for “i don't wanna get up-- you're comfy."// "i'm cold. come closer." //"i love you a lot, but please stop trying to cook me dinner, you suck.” And I got all three in. As always, I cannot thank you guys enough for clicking and reading and saying such nice things. Here’s to a 2021 that’s full of even more fic, satisfying TV storylines and lots of fictional characters making out. 

Also on Ao3 if that’s your jam

-----

“Shit.”

“Merry Christmas.”

Rolling her eyes over the top of the phone in her hand, Ruby didn’t look particularly amused at the distinct lack of enthusiasm in Emma’s voice. That was something of a theme. For like—the last thirty-six hours, but also the majority of their relationship, and none this should have come as a surprise, only she’d had a lot of wine in the last forty-six minutes, and it might have been catching up with her. Was definitely catching up with her. 

“How much did you pay for the garbage alcohol you’ve been shoving at me?” Emma asked archly, and she was only slightly worried about getting home. Her head felt muddled. Like there were too many thoughts, and this time of year always did that to her brain, and her consciousness, and at least eighty-two percent of this was Mary Margaret’s fault. 

For deciding that they were going to have a party. 

On New Year’s Eve. 

Like complete cliches. 

“I’ll have you know,” Ruby drawled, eyes dropping back to her phone and whatever noise it was making, “that I paid at least twelve dollars for—”

“—Lies,” Elsa yelled, and it was a testament their current situation that she’d raised her voice at all. Nothing like that ever happened, and the overall roll rate of Ruby’s eyes was going to give her a migraine. 

Her phone made another noise. 

“She’s lying to you,” Elsa added. “Straight to your face.”

She’d still be staring down a dateless New Year’s Eve, but—

Emma scrunched her nose. “What else is new?”

“Oh, I take offense to that,” Ruby cried, but she was almost too obviously distracted, and the inability of this conversation to be concise was starting to grate on Emma’s nerves. Or what remained of them. Maybe she was the Grinch.

No, that wasn’t right. The Grinch had an enlarged heart, which Emma certainly did not have — and that was nice and appropriately festive for the season, the Grinch, not her, and he had a dog. Emma didn’t have a dog. If she had a dog, there was no possible way she’d be annoyed as she was. 

Whatever, honestly. 

Her date, or lack thereof, was not important, and she was going to drink this entire bottle of Barefoot Moscato, price tag be damned, and then she was going to figure out some way to get home. Without falling over. 

Also, the Grinch didn’t have a roommate. Unless you counted the dog, and Emma didn’t think Max could conceivably hold so many titles in a twenty-two minute animated Christmas special, and she imagined the Grinch was also not pining after his dog slash roommate slash stand-in reindeer. That’d be weird. 

For a twenty-two minute animated Christmas special. 

She’d never seen the Jim Carey version. Or that other one with Benedict whatever-his-name-is.

Away from dating apps and wine that was very likely going to give her one hell of a headache, and Killian would at least make sure she was vaguely hydrated before she collapsed on some sort of horizontal surface. She wasn’t going to be picky about which one, honestly. 

“Why are there so many versions of the Grinch?”

Ruby didn’t look at her. Her eyebrows moved, though. Lifted ever so slightly into her hairline, and Elsa’s glance wasn’t exactly subtle, and Emma needed to go home. 

“Expand on that for me,” Ruby said, lips twisted as soon as she stopped talking. Something was wrong. Well, more wrong. In an alcohol-saturated sort of way that included all those previously discussed mobile dating apps. 

“There are so many Grinches,” Emma said. “You think that’s a commentary on society? Like as a whole? That we need to—”

“—Embrace the spirit of Christmas?”

“Because we as a general population are all assholes?”

“You’ve had too much wine.”

“Not a question,” Elsa mumbled, elbow bumping Emma’s shoulder when she perched on the edge of the sofa, and Ruby’s eyes were still doing that thing. Widening every now and then — a flash of understanding mixing in with surprise, and Emma wasn’t sure how many muscles were in a human thumb, but she figured all of Ruby’s were getting quite a workout, scrolling as quickly as they were. 

“If I have,” Emma muttered, “it is entirely Ruby’s fault. Who buys pink Moscato and expects their guests not to drink the whole bottle?”

“Seems to suggest you’re a guest, though,” Ruby said, “and that’s awfully prim and proper.”

Ruby couldn’t possibly be Cindy Lou Who in this metaphor. 

Emma couldn’t argue with that. Mostly because she’d drank so much of the pink Moscato. “Ok, ok, forget the wine for two seconds. And the Grinch. Why were you making proclamations before? They were very loud and—”

Nothing changed. The phone was still there — wobbling slightly because it seemed Ruby’s forearm strength was lacking just a bit, but the screen didn’t change, and Emma was certain this was somehow also Taylor Swift’s fault. For rerecording Love Story and letting Ryan Reynolds use it in that Match.com ad. 

“So…”

Although really that made it more Scooter whatever-his-last-name-was’s fault, for stealing all of Taylor Swift’s songs and being a noted and massive dick, and Emma’s inability to remember anyone’s last name was clearly something of a personality failing. 

“Thoughts?” Ruby pressed. 

At least twelve-thousand, but none of them seemed especially interested in being said out loud, and Emma’s tongue felt like it was simultaneously growing and dissolving in her mouth. None of it was particularly comfortable, what legitimately felt like cotton balls bursting out of her cheeks and making it difficult to breathe, and she should have lived in a cave. With her dog and the inexplicable set of antlers she owned to make that same dog look like a reindeer, and then she wouldn’t have to be staring at Killian Jones’ dating profile on goddamn Match.com eight days before a New Year’s Eve party she only marginally wanted to attend. 

“Don’t people just use Tinder now?” 

Emma’s voice did not sound like her own. Presumably because of the tongue thing and the cotton ball analogy, and she wondered if the Uber driver she was inevitably going to request would be especially annoyed by her desire to blast Taylor Swift in the backseat. 

She’d give them five stars. 

No matter what — because she wasn’t an asshole, but especially if they let Emma blast Taylor Swift in the backseat. 

Ruby rolled her eyes. “You’re very old; you know that?” 

Her face was very warm. 

“Buy me better wine.”

Emma had never gone into cardiac arrest before, but the sinking feeling in her chest was sudden and a little jarring and she tried very hard to swallow down the wad of emotion currently taking up residence in the middle of her throat. Didn’t work. 

“Only nine bucks, honestly?”

Failed spectacularly, quite honestly. 

“I don’t want to know,” she announced. “Whatever he put on there is his—”

“What Killian does or doesn’t do in the world of modern dating has nothing to do with me,” Emma said, only a little disappointed because she didn’t think people got multiple miracles in their lives and to having hers ensure her voice didn’t shake over those particular words in that particular order felt lame. 

“I don’t care.”

All things considered. 

Scrunching her nose, Ruby’s nod lacked a certain sense of honesty. “Sure, sure, sure, well—” She shrugged. “—He’s here. Being available. Presumably for New Year’s, and…”

Emma waited for the rest. All the reasons she’d heard before, and her friends were convinced. Something about inevitable, and happily ever after, but that second part was mostly Mary Margaret and it was likely easier to believe in the fairy tale when you were living it. 

Pessimism was also fairly lame. As far as defining traits went. 

“What are you—” Elsa started, but then she was moving and her teeth clicked exactly five times, as soon as she looked at the screen, and Emma was not capable of dealing with any of this. Watching her friends gape at her, Ruby’s phone still held loosely in her hand, and neither one of them objected when she finally managed to get to her feet. 

And the Uber driver didn’t offer to play any Taylor Swift, but Emma didn’t ask and she didn’t blast it in the backseat. 

So, that felt like a victory. Which she desperately needed — to counteract the state of her pancreas and half a dozen other internal organs when her thumb hovered over the button, and it took at least two minutes and twelve seconds for Match.com to download. 

She should have waited until she was on wifi. 

To say that Emma’s relationship with Killian Jones was complicated would be something of an understatement. And she wouldn’t use the word relationship. 

He was her friend. 

Her very good looking friend, with stupid eyes that regularly flashed at her like he was too aware of the mush-like state it sent her into, and he was friends with her brother, and once upon a time she’d briefly considered hating him, but that never really stuck and he made hot chocolate better than anyone she knew. Refused to use the prepackaged mix. Did something on the oven that Emma didn’t entirely understand, and never trusted herself to try on her own, and Killian was never late with his half of the rent. 

Or any of the utilities. 

Living together was a decision born of convenience and the extra room Killian had once Will moved out, but it also made a lot of sense and it was good. Really good. Would have been great if Emma wasn’t pining after him and his stupid eyes like some lovelorn idiot, but she had gotten almost impossibly good at rationalizing the whole thing in the last few years, and—

“Shit, shit, shit,” she chanted, slumped in the corner of the couch with her knees threatening to impale her chin and there must have been a record for frustrated cursing while staring at a roommate's dating profile. She’d definitely passed it, like, seven minutes ago. 

Scrolling down only led to scrolling back up, twisting her lower lip between her teeth while staring at photos and lists and options she was sure came from some AI or relationship-type algorithm and coming to terms with the end of the world was harder than she expected it to be.  

At least the end of her love life. 

Of which there wasn’t much to begin with, so it probably wasn’t very hard for the whole thing to topple over, but Emma was feeling especially melodramatic and they needed to buy some WD-40. For their very squeaky door. 

“Hey,” Killian said, shrugging out of his jacket and it was apparently snowing out. Flakes dusted his shoulder, clung to several strands of hair, and Emma couldn’t melt into the couch. They couldn’t afford to buy another one. “That can’t be good for your spine.”

Humming, Killian didn’t bother brushing the snow out of his hair before he walked forward, falling onto the other end of the couch and pulling Emma’s sock-covered feet into his lap. “Are they any cookies left?”

“I’m going to tell Mary Margaret you’re a cookie glutton and—”

Sixteen guys had messaged her already. 

“So I’ve heard. Whatcha you doing?”

Maybe that was a compliment. Emma didn’t think so, though. 

She couldn’t believe she had to make a profile. To stalk her roommate. And his interests. There were a lot of interests on Killian’s Match.com profile. 

Strictly speaking, she didn’t have much experience with shoulders and their proclivity to being rested on, but she liked to believe Killian’s was one of the more comfortable out there. Her head fit very well, at least. 

“Nothing.”

So as to avoid any lingering after-effects from its continued failure. 

“I’ve got twenty-seven bucks on him asking at the party,” Killian said, “but Locksley thinks he’s just going to lose any sense of self-control and blurt it out before, I just—”

Emma’s phone dinged. 

Again. Multiple times, in quick succession — and she should have turned off notifications for that stupid app, but she wasn’t really using it for its intended purpose and Killian was staring at her. With a look that made it all too clear he knew what was going on. 

That didn’t make her feel any better. 

“Ruby said she was thinking about bringing someone,” he muttered, “to, uh—to the thing. The New Year’s thing.”

The air shifted. Crackled with electricity Emma knew she was imagining, and want she was only barely managing to temper and if Will did propose to Belle on New Year’s Eve she refused to be held accountable for her emotional reaction. She’d totally cry. 

“Call it a thing again.”

Ruby would never let her hear the end of that.

Shaking his head brusquely, Killian’s grip tightened around Emma’s ankle. She had no idea he was holding her ankle — fingers wrapped all the way around the joint until the tips threatened to touch because apparently his fingers were that long, and she’d probably only obsess about that for like the next few years, or so. Which seemed reasonable. 

“Anyone good?” he asked, low and gruff and whatever was back in the middle of her throat did not appear intent on leaving any time soon. No matter how many times Emma swallowed. 

Or how often Killian’s eyes flickered. Towards her throat.

The idea never even crossed her mind, honestly. 

Flinching the way she did only guaranteed that Emma’s spine collided with the arm of their couch, but she was at least less inclined to melt and she supposed romantic beggars could not be choosers. “Yuh huh,” she said, “and you’re well acquainted with the noises and the reasons behind the noise?”

That probably wasn’t important. 

And just like that—it was fine. Well, maybe not fine, but at last fine adjacent, and something inching closer to normal, and Killian kissed her temple again before he stood up. 

“You’re avoiding my question.”

She didn’t pick up her phone until she went to bed, dragging every blanket they owned behind her down the hallway. 

On the ever-growing list of problems Emma had during a week when problems were supposed to be non-existent, Killian's Match.com profile had very easily cemented itself at the top of the list. 

It didn’t match — her, at least. Every single thing he was apparently looking for in some sort of potential life partner was the exact opposite of every single thing that made Emma her. Musical tastes were diametrically opposed, movies she’d never once seen him watch in the legitimate decades she’d known him were praised with the kind of adjectives even Robert Ebert would scoff at. The pictures were good, but Emma knew that was more a result of her attraction to her roommate than anything else, and he said he liked people who cooked. 

She couldn’t cook. 

She tried. 

Twenty-four hours after the weird couch incident, which was a name only Emma was using, she was sure, and the smoke alarm had gone off and—

This was Ruby’s fault. And Taylor Swift. Whose new album was very good, and made for perfect and consistent pining music. 

She was so disappointed she was positive she reeked with it.

“Cooking,” Emma said, like that was an explanation and not an excuse and she was definitely using too many of her personal miracles. “Nothing caught on fire!”

Lolling his head to the side, Killian leveled her with an exasperated expression. Brows pinched together and that shade of blue wasn’t quite as sharp, but was still somehow almost amused and she didn’t think the oven was supposed to make that noise. It was very loud. “Lack of flames is not a sign of success, love,” he said, “and it’s—ah, fuck.”

The smoke alarm was louder than the oven. 

Blasting through their apartment and, Emma was sure, through the entire building, the beep hit its rhythmic stride quickly, so she reacted like an adult to the whole situation by gritting her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut. Killian breezed by her, swinging open another squeaky door and fumbling through what sounded like several dozen boxes and he cursed. More than once.

Emma nodded. 

Emma cracked open one eye. “We do, I—”

Their neighbors must hate them. Rightfully so. 

“We definitely own a broom,” she promised, “we’re not savages. We clean.”

Graham was probably very nice.

“Was there a reason for that?”

Emma swallowed. Still didn’t help. 

“Swan.”

“Alright,” Killian said softly, “c’mere.”

Saying that what happened next happened quicker than Emma expected it to, also suggested that Emma expected it to happen at all, which was one of the bigger lies she’d told in the last week or so, and she was really growing a metric shit ton of lies, so that was especially impressive and she yelped very loudly. As soon as hands gripped her hips, lifting her off the floor and directing her underneath the questionably loud smoke detector. 

“This could wake the dead,” she proclaimed, shouting the words because if they were going to descend into total farce, then she was really going to lean into it.

Killian’s head fell to her stomach. If she died right there, she hoped he didn’t drop her. Although, she’d also be dead, so—she probably wouldn’t notice. 

“Just turn it off, love.”

She hated all that music. 

“See,” he grunted, “that makes it sound like we don’t have a broom, and—” Adjusting her, one of her legs twisted around his, something Emma was going to claim as instinct and not that same want that was another one of her more defining characteristics, and he definitely exhaled. Loudly. And directly into her t-shirt. “—Swan, I really need you to fix this, love.”

Using his shoulder as leverage, and keeping her leg exactly where it was, she still had to stretch her arm out and it took far more movement than either one of them could apparently handle silently for her to press the button that fixed everything. 

Despised The Godfather, on some sort of fundamental level and Kay deserved better than Michael Corleone, even if that version of Al Pacino was almost kind of attractive, but—

Relatively speaking, at least. 

He didn’t lift his head immediately. Or drop her. That probably wasn’t a metaphor. 

Emma’s metaphors regularly sucked, anyway. 

“Pizza or Chinese?”

Chuckling into her stomach, Killian’s laugh warmed her from the inside out and kept the goosebumps there and she’d kind of forgotten he was shirtless. Idiot bastard, that was her.

Graham Humbert had owned more plaid shirts than anyone Emma had ever seen. 

“Order extra egg rolls, and I’m in,” Killian said, finally working her back to the ground and they didn’t move. They stood there. Staring at each other, and conducting more inventory, and Emma could only imagine the penance she’d have to do for keeping her stomach in its correct spot. 

“Deal.”

“She’s in love with him.”

“Which part?” Ruby asked. “How in love Emma is with Jones or whether or not we were acknowledging his shitty dating profile?” 

“Doesn’t have to,” Elsa muttered over the top of her half-empty glass. “It basically broadcasts out of her.”

They took the batteries out of the smoke detector a day later. 

“Either or, I guess.”

Not the safest thing they’d ever done, but Emma kept trying to cook and failing spectacularly and she was certain the people at the Chinese restaurant fourteen blocks away knew their order based solely on the sound of her voice when she called. 

“Does this have a name?”

Slumped as she was over the edge of the bar, Emma barely noticed the lift in Killian’s eyebrows, but that also might have been her tendency to be preoccupied with his mouth and he was smiling at her. Wide. Meaningful—ly. 

Distractingly. 

At some point that afternoon, she’d decided she needed to respond to Graham’s messages. Or, well—keep responding. There’d been some conversation, what might have been construed as flirting if Emma’s thumbs didn’t keep cramping up while they flew across her phone’s keyboard, but that definitely wasn’t a sign either, and the overall lightness in her body was likely a direct result of whatever blue-colored alcoholic concoction Killian had put in front of her forty-seven minutes before. There were gummy—things floating in it. 

Or there had been. 

She’d eaten them. 

Her mouth felt a little numb. 

“What do you think we should call it?”

Propping her chin on her hand made Emma wobble a bit, Killian’s lips twitching again. Idiot bastard asshole. Poor Graham. She was a jerk. And his eyes were getting brighter. 

Killian’s. Not Graham’s. 

She had no idea what Graham’s eyes did. 

“Are you serving me unnamed alcohol?” Emma asked, and she was sure she did not slur her words the way it sounded. 

He shrugged. 

Good thing the holiday season was nearly over. 

And Will’s reaction was far too loud, tossing a towel over his back before he draped himself across Killian’s back, hooking his own chin over that slightly lifted shoulder. “He’s showing off, Em. That’s all it is. Are you going to die, though?”

At the bar. 

“Your tongue is blue.”

Four seats away from Leroy the regular. 

“Don’t move so quickly, Swan,” Killian said, a hand finding her cheek and that was fine. Totally fine. Great, even. Super—

Califragilisticexpialidocious. 

So, she was more drunk than she’d been. Like, ever. 

“Your fault,” she mumbled. Burrowing further into his palm was not an option Emma had, so naturally that’s exactly what she did and Will made another noise. “Something to add, Scar—” Emma paused, lifting an impatient finger when both men in front of her dared to laugh. “—Let, you jerky jerkface.”

“You will find out whenever else does, kid,” Will guaranteed. “And there were at least four different types of rum in that swill he gave you.”

That would have annoyed Belle.

Humming, Will untwisted his limbs from Killian, a different hand finding her cheek and the strands of hair that were hanging over her eyes and she scowled when he tapped her chin. “Trying to impress you,” Will repeated intently.

“Is he—” Emma’s brain couldn’t keep up. Thoughts rushed through her, firing synapses that were only passably functional, and the lights from the jukebox across the room were starting to float in her vision. Pressing her fingers into her cheek, Emma knew the skin there moved, but she also could not feel a single thing and—“You’re laughing at me.”

Her head hurt. Ached, even through the haze she’d only recently evolved into, and Emma hated bowling. Was absolutely God awful at it. The kind of awful that required bumpers whenever they’d gone, and they used to go when they were kids. On New Year’s Eve afternoon, some tradition that Ruth had come up with and David honored, even after he and Mary Margaret had segued into happily ever after, and Emma could count on one hand how many times she’d crested the 100-point mark. 

“I am,” he said, “but you’re also sloshed, so I’m willing to give you a pass. And no.”

She felt oddly similar now. 

Playing a game she wasn’t very good at, with more gutter balls than any self-respecting adult should record. Eight pounds of cylindrical force kept rolling through her, threatening anything in its path, but not hitting what it was supposed to, and she also could have eaten an entire tub of bowling alley snacks right now. 

“Why are fries better in a bowling alley? Like, better than anywhere else.” 

Will’s eyes narrowed. “Better than Shake Shack?”

Blinking continued to be one of Emma’s less impressive reactions, but she was stuck on that bowling ball metaphor and Killian’s arm around her shoulders made it impossible to talk. 

“‘S’totally different.”

“You ready, love?”

“We’re leaving, love,” Killian said, and there was at least part of her that was smart enough to pick on repeat endearments. And then promptly cling to them. In her swollen heart. 

“For?”

“Make sure you brush your tongue too tonight, Em,” Will advised, “otherwise that blue is going to stick.”

Saluting left her more off-balance than she’d been all night, laughter echoing behind them as Killian pulled the door shut and he’d ordered them a car. Emma honestly had no idea how they got in said car, but then they were moving and she was only slightly dizzy and he—

He made another noise, slumping next to her, which made it even easier for Emma to touch as much of him as possible and he didn’t object. She didn’t think he would. Ever, actually. 

“Smell really good.”

God, poor Graham. 

She was the worst. 

David played hockey when he was a kid. 

“Not as such, no,” Killian said, “just thinking we might be able to add something new and—” His shoulder shifted under her cheek, Emma’s soft hum of disapproval making him smile. She still didn’t check. “—Not that we haven’t been making money, but...people gotta have a schtick.”

No sound. Nothing except engines, and there could only be one engine in a car, Emma was fairly positive, so that didn’t really make sense and Killian stared ahead when she tilted her head up. “Sometimes,” Killian admitted softly, “but, uh—like I said, just trying to get something that might help us a little more and weddings are expensive, y’know?”

“Whatever,” Emma groaned, “just—I’m saying it’s a good bar.”

Thinking about melting as often as she was, was starting to become patently ridiculous. 

“You’re trying to come up with ridiculous bachelorette party drinks—”

With such God awful interests in the opposite sex. 

Emma rapped her knuckles against his chest. “To help pay for Scarlet’s wedding?”

The world was a joke. Happy Holidays. 

“You’re not getting ready with Lucas or Elsa or anything tomorrow, are you?”

Huh. No grand slam, then. 

Of all the questions she definitely wasn’t prepared for, that was at the bottom of the list. Emma was not actually making any of these lists. “This isn’t prom.”

Being hungover on New Year’s Eve was one of the crueler jokes the universe had played on her in the last week or so. 

“Yeah, ok,” she said, letting her head drop back to his shoulder and Emma wasn’t sure why it sounded like he exhaled. In something almost like relief. Eyes fluttering the way they were, she must have imagined it, another ridiculous metaphor and even dumber analogy and her groan was especially pitiful when the car stopped. No way her stomach was going to stay where it was supposed to for the rest of the night.

All of Emma hurt, muscles she hadn’t been aware she was in possession of seemingly rising up in revolt of her very existence, and she couldn’t really turn her head. Which endlessly delighted Ruby in a way that was making her reconsider their friendship, and Killian kept glancing in their direction. His arm bumped Emma’s no less than twenty-four times in the car over. 

And for as much as she wanted to crawl under several mountains of blankets and consider all her romantic shortcomings, something in the back of Emma’s mind preened a bit under his flitting gaze, trying not to meet his eyes too often. Only to fail every time — if Ruby’s laughter was any indication, and Will had groaned several times, but he also didn’t appear to be engaged yet and Emma had apologized to Graham that afternoon. 

Through text, though. So it only kind of counted. She wasn’t even sure parts of the messages were English. Her head felt like it was going to snap open, which made the champagne she was practically shotgunning at that point a very bad decision, but she’d been on a roll on that front, so she had no intention of altering course and it was nearly midnight.

“This is depressing,” Ruby announced. “He’s staring again.”

Rolling her eyes was an impossibility if Emma didn’t want to make a spectacle of herself in front of her brother and some of the teachers from Mary Margaret’s school, and Ruby’s date was nice. Had a lot of pictures of her dog on her phone, but nice all the same.

More blinking. Honestly, she was a mess. The teachers kept hogging space on the couch. Killian smiled when he looked at Emma, that time. “Elaborate on that.”

“Are you the dumbest person alive?”

“No, this is just our general opinion of you. Both of you, really. I—are you not almost painfully aware of how in love Killian is with you? Em, he is staring at you. Like, right now. Blatantly. Obviously. Some other adverb.”

“We live together.”

Wide eyes and an impressively straight row of teeth were all the warning Emma got before there was a hand on her shoulder and he smelled just as good as she was hopeful she hadn’t mentioned last night, but that felt like wishful thinking and Emma did not, in fact, eject any bodily fluids when Killian turned her. Victories, she was flush with them. 

“I’m so bad at cooking.”

“Hey,” she breathed, and Ruby groaned so loudly it likely did damage to the ozone layer. 

Frozen to the spot, she tried very hard to regulate her breathing and fix her pulse, and neither thing worked. And then. Something clicked — almost audibly in her brain, and her soul and her heart’s potential for explosion was suddenly something she had to worry about. 

Killian’s lips twitched. “You got a second?”

“Please don’t look at me like that,” Killian murmured. She barely heard him. Not when there were fingers tracing up her side and lingering on the small of her back, and Emma’s head moved her head as slowly as she could. 

If she moved any faster, she’d either fall over or wake up from this very lucid dream and neither of those things were all that positive. 

“Cooking, it’s—I love you a lot, but you are absolutely atrocious at it.”

“You’ve got to stop cooking, love.”

The world stopped. Paused, at least. Gave Emma’s muddled mind a second to catch up, and she’d need several more seconds, but she also wasn’t quite that greedy and Killian’s smile widened. As soon as her fingers curled into his shirt. 

He didn’t move his hands. 

“I—” she stammered. “I am...but we don’t match!”

“What is happening right now?” Emma breathed, only cautiously optimistic she wanted the answer. 

A chorus of angry jeers rained down on them — Will using Robin to keep himself upright while he flipped Killian off with both hands. “Pining piner who pines like a goddamn idiot.”

“Well, I’m fairly in love with you. To an almost ridiculous degree.”

“I do appreciate the cooking effort though,” he added. “But it’s a very old profile, made almost entirely by Scarlet in—”

“I honestly forgot it existed,” Killian continued, “I’ve never used it, really. Just knew that Scarlet had made the thing, and then I ignored the messages and—”

As it was, her fingers were already tight enough that Emma very easily pulled herself up and the hand at her waist helped keep her balanced and they were very good at this. Kissing, specifically. Heads tilted automatically to an angle that made it all too easy for Emma to open her mouth, and Killian’s tongue was even more distracting when it was brushing hers, and someone was groaning, but that might have been her, or possibly him and his hair was soft. Between her fingers. 

“Not as many as you did.”

Breathing was suddenly a secondary concern, and Emma’s lungs had already proved they were basically made of steel, or at least impervious to the flames currently exploding between her ribs and none of that was biologically accurate. 

She never did find out where her pancreas was. 

And she was so busy dealing with the way the solar system appeared to be reordering itself around the pair of them, that Emma didn’t notice the countdown or the metallic crown tossed at her feet. Only that there were eventually cheers and Ryan Seacrest’s face plastered across the TV on the other side of the room, and one of Killian’s hands had worked underneath her shirt. 

The sparkly one that had made his eyes noticeably widen several hours earlier. 

“How did you figure it out?”

[ikuzeminna]

What were your thoughts on Kira and Flay's sex scene?

Hmm. There are three different versions of that now, aren't there?

To everyone reading, I'll be addressing the question under the cut, so tread accordingly.

When I first saw "the implications" in the original (as nothing explicit is shown there), I rolled my eyes at it. It served no purpose other than to slut-shame Flay to make Lacus look better and to add to Flay's list of terrible character traits. What a horrible person Flay is to use sex on an innocent boy like Kira to get him to do her bidding and fight the Coordinators.

Except, he had already decided to fight for his friends before that, but we're supposed to ignore that.

That Flay is supposedly a fifteen year old girl the creators have act this way also hit and still hits quiet a nerve with me. Again, it's just to drive in the difference between her and pure~ Lacus and I hate that they treat a female character this way. Flay on Heliopolis was a young girl who blushed at her friends teasing her about Sai's love letter. So where did this whole manipulative seductress business come from?? But I guess Seed is the wrong show to expect much here in terms of characters. Especially females.

The second version I saw of this was in the Special Edition and I distinctly remember laughing my head off because the whole scene was accompanied by a ridiculously upbeat song by T.M. Revolution and was pretty much a "characters do whatever while I play unfitting music" kinda thing. Seriously. You have lewd images, Flay delivering a monologue about how her feelings will protect Kira while J-Pop blasts. Who thought this was in any shape or form a good match? xD

This version proves interesting though since we see that apparently Kira wasn't roped into it as much as the original series had us believe with his eventual flashback of a naked Flay leaning down to kiss him, but was a very willing participant himself.

There are six segments that were animated. The first one shows their initial kiss, and I want to talk a little bit about that because it turns a few things upside down.

Honestly, if we ignore the circumstances and their motivations and focus only on the above scene, it looks like an incredibly loving and tender moment between them. o_O Flay may be the one initiating the kiss, but Kira expects her and they both kiss each other at the same time. Never mind her words to him which, while we know untrue at the time, make this moment even more affectionate and endearing.

This is in stark contrast to aforementioned flashback where he sees her naked form lean down to kiss him. There they painted Flay as an aggressive party while Kira was supposedly submissive. But here? Here it looks loving, not like Flay threw herself at him and ripped his clothes off.

And then we jump. And boy, does the tone change. Whatever notion anyone may have previously had that Kira was wholly pure and innocent and only slept with Flay because she made him goes right out the window. Because now she is only reacting. It's Kira who is acting.

Pffhhffhhf. So much for the pure boy shtick.

Do I think these scenes were necessary? Heck no. But I do like that they take the blame off Flay's shoulders and show that Kira wanted it just as much as she did, if not more so. Finally a character flaw. Still could've done without.

The third and last version of this scene is in the remastered version of the show and is by far the dumbest. Because much shorter parts of the already short segments were used, the scenes flash by during the fight without the monologue and all you end up with is a barrage of lewd images while Flay, reanimated to feature her new boob job (I hate the remastered version so, so much) lays around half-naked, telling the audience Kira will protect them because he will protect her.

It's bizarre that a show that is as kiddie as Seed is so heavy on objectifying all its females. The openings can be downright obscene. Not to mention bouncy boobs everywhere.

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Final Four: The Life and Crimes of Scrooge McDuck Review! or The Batman Trial Episode but with Ducks, Sharks, And the Fonz

Hello all you happy people and welcome to the penultimate Ducktales review... for season 3 anyway. I still have most of season 1, all of season 2 (I did cover one but I’ll probably redo it), the tie-in comics, the 87 series, and even then i’ll never really be done with ducks between all the scrooge comics and other duck related shows like Darkwing Duck and Quack Pack. But as far as covering the show as it comes out as i’ve done for the past year, that’s’ts almost done. It’s honestly just starting to hit as I type this: this is the second to last episode. After next week while there’s always fan fiction (And I certainly aim to contribute to that), a possible Darkwing Duck Reboot under frank (though that’s in doubt) where they could show up, and a movie down the road given what we saw with Phienas and Ferb and the show’s popularity it’s still not the same as getting these well animated, well crafted adventures every week with breaks or the ocasional entire week of them. The show won’t go on, and whatever happens with the property next is a mystery no amount of ducks can solve. 

So with all that in mind naturally this episode is a breather episode: It’s not unimportant: like the rest of the season it ties off a lot of loose ends, adds in some stuff we didn’t know we wanted, and in general feels necessary like every episode this season. It’s something I credit the season for immensley: They knew this would probably be it so while they had more stories to tell, they made sure if these were their last, to leave no loose ends. And outside of ones they just never wanted to address in the first place like “What happened to Donald’s parents”, “Why was every trace of Della missing despite Scrooge’s search for her having just ended”, and “What did Della thing of the decades long seperation”, they’ve tied up pretty much all of them except for FOWL and what Beakly was lying about, and I feel both are about to ducktail into one another int he finale. Could be wrong but  I applaud them for tying off almost every loose end and character arc by this episode that isn’t related to FOWL in some way. Not every show can do that: She Ra was a masterpiece but still had a few things like Scorpia and Catra’s broken relationship, Hordak’s reformation and Adora’s Parents just left up in the air due to time constraints, Steven Universe ONLY got to go back and answer a lot of questions because they were lucky enough to get an epilogue mini series, and Star Vs... was not as good as either show by the end and by the finale about 80% of things it’d brought up all had the following answer:

My point is it’s VERY hard, even when you know the end is coming to tie everything up in a neat bow. And I can’t know how good the finale be or how satsifying it will be but given how well this season’s wrapped everything up so far,  i’m betting on immensely. But we can talk about that when it finally comes around next week. For now we have a trial episode to talk about that’s mostly good.. mostly. See why the mostly under the cut as I discuss and recap the episode with full spoilers.  Count it down!

We open in the Mansion, where a bunch of tribble like Fuzzy creatures are running amok. Unsuprisingly, Scrooge bought one for Louie as a pet to teach him responsiblity.. again. And once again he instead turned into a get rich quick scheme, didn’t read the manual and now they have an infestation. 

ONCE AGAIN, Louie is written like he’s barely changed at all in the past three seasons. Anyone whose been following my reviews regularly knows this has been a pet peeve of mine for the entire season. Despite having an ENTIRE arc about Louie growing as a character and learning the human cost of his scheming and to use his angle seeing talent’s wisely, the writers keep writing him as if he learned nothing. I went back to track it and while not as often as it felt I noticed a few things. The first is that it WASN’T like this for the first half of the season. No really. He even learns brand new lessons in The Trickening and Louie’s Eleven. Granted he also exploits his uncle in Louie’s Eleven but that’s mostly played for laughs.. still not a great bit but not a major part of the episode. 

So he was fine for the first act of the season... but then for whatever reason from Let’s Get Dangerous onwards (Again I don’t count the Christmas episode as both of those are meant to slot in anywhere and chronologically take place before this season for the timeline to make any sense), he’s just...

He’s utterly insufferable in his small parts of the first half of Let’s Get Dangerous! as he berates Huey for daring to look a gifthorse int he mouse.. even though everytime he’s seemingly got something for nothing or minimal effort it’s backfired and it’s something that seeemd to stick with “The Richest Duck in the World!”. He’s fine in Impossibin and alright in split sword as while he clearly hadn’t learned lying isn’t the best policy we at least got a good story out of it. He then went right back to obnoxious with New Gods on the Block where he, EPISODES AFTER THE SOLEAGEO FISACO again thinks an easy way out is the right way, and has NO guilt over possibly killing a bunch of people with his gold powers and in fact is disapointed he dosen’t get to keep a living being turned to gold!. He spents all of Fight for Castle McDuck being a huge dick to Huey AGAIN iwth no lesson, and now has yet another family endagering get rich quick scheme he feels no remorse about. 

I will admit when I”m wrong and I DID think it was in way more of the season than I thought. And let’s face it in real life personal issues don’t just go away and you can sometimes slide back, i’ve done it way too many times and i’m not proud of it. We’re only human. But this isn’t real life, this is cartoon ducks. And cartoon duck wise most character development has stuck or if a bad trait’s come back it’s been in a new way. Webby is still trusting, but knows how the world works now and while idolizing scrooge dosen’t think he’s perfect anymore. Huey is no longer a skpetic towards the super natural and hasn’t forced a party on anyone. Dewey hasn’t craved other people’s love or thought he needed to earn his mom’s love again. And that’s just the other kids. They aren’t the same people theyw ere going in, neither is Louie. So it’s grating when an episode acts like h’es exactly the same, let alone almost a fifth of the season.

What makes it even worse though is that he had an ENTIRE STORY ARC dedicated to learning some of these lessons already. With the others if one episode were forgotten i’d let it slide as it happens with tv, i’m used to it. It’s not a great look but it happens. Mistakes happen again we’re all human. But you can’t act like an entire arc of a series didn’t exist. While they ignore Della’s history somehow being hidden for the rest of the show they don’t ignore that Dewey spent a whole season looking for her, as he never hides something like that from his brothers again nor do they, and he’s out of them the biggets mama’s boy. While they did take a while to adress Lena, partly because the episode got pushed back, they didn’t act like season 1 never happened and she was still working for her aunt. Della still isn’t on the moon and Owlson still isn’t working for glomgold. Actions. Have. Consequences. That’s the whole point of this episode, but they act like none of it got through to louie and it makes his arc feel like a giant waste in hindsight. This episode even feels like it was SUPPOSED to be in that arc: Louie is back to his season 2 characterization, Scrooge is actively trying to mentor him again.. it just feels really out of place as our second to last episode in that way and drags it down a bit.

Thankfully after Scrooge bars the door, and possibly leaves everyone to their deaths but he presumably has enough faith in the kids, the twins and Beakley to take care of it, he gets a summons to court.. and gets kidnapped. He and Louie are whisked away to a mystic court presided over by a giant statue of justice holding scales, that judges someone based on Karma. Scrooge’s foes have brought him to court, blaming him for being evil and if he looses he looses EVERYTHING. And their proscutor? 

Sadly not Droopy, maybe next continuity, but searing the same Hannibal-Esque Getup is Doofus Drake to Louie’s horror. As for why he’s like this.. he thought iht was fun. Great gag. 

After the credits we find out why he’s doing this: He’s still pissed about Louie taking half his inheritance and giving it to his family, so he’s going to take LOUIE’S inheritance. It’s.. honestly a great setup: Doofus was already a villian I liked, being a nice weird evil mirror dewey instead of a walking fat joke like last series. So I was glad to both see him pop up one last time to make it a full trilogy of apperances as an angonist and to see him take a step up from his passive roll in the past: in his first two apperances while he was evil and abusive, and still is, his evil was mostly due to his own warped logic, feeling he could put shock collars on and control people and that Louie lying to him was enough to warrant making him into a pinata. He’s still a bad person mind you: kid or not he ensdlaved his parents, tried to enslave louie and goldie and in general REALLY needs some help empathizing with people. But my point is that before he didn’t come after anyone.. so it’s a nice capper to have his final turn as antaognist be him going after our hero.. and at his most dangerous. Before someone would’ve come for Louie eventually in Doofus’ first apperance and Goldie would’ve found a way out or Scrooge, despite grumbling about it, would’ve helped.. if nothing else than to lord having to save her from a 12 year old over her. Here if he wins the family is out on the street and three of their greatest enemies are now infinitely more well funded. 

So while naturally unnerved by his rival Louie offers to defend Scrooge who denies it despite the fact that Louie is REALLY good with words, and Scrooge, while not bad with them, can’t stop shouting and keeps pissing off the baliff, played by my boy Henry Winkler whose done a lot of voice work and also played Fonzie on Happy Days, is currently on the HBO series barry and in general is just a fucking delight. The irony is also not lost on me that he’s not playing a lawyer here despite being one on arrested development. 

We get our first witness: FLINTHEART GLOMGOLD. Hell. Yes. It’s nice to see him in his full glory one last time, as I don’t know how much he’ll be in the finale. Scrooge blows of the Duke Baloney thing, which is fair given that while Scrooge screwed up there, Glomgold still stole money from him right after and then spent his whole life trying to one up him. But Glomgold has a different tale in mind as he stole something else from him: the limelight. 

It was 1980-something and Glomgold was a bonified celebrity in Duckberg for his hot dogging, grandstanding and treasure hunting loved by all and took Baba Wawa, a nice mix of Barbra Walters and the parody of her on SNL by the late Gilda Radner, to a shark shaped cave to get the gem of the shark god, a ruby tooth at the end of the cave. Naturally Scrooge popped up and easily made his way through and stole the spotlight. As it turns out he wasn’t always well loved and it makes sense: he dismises Baba asking him about how disliked he is, and dosen’t care and even in the current story, or rather season 1 of it, he dismiseed PR entirely in Jaw$. He was rich enough and enough of a job provider he just didn’t see the need for fame or glory, that just came second so it’s logical no one liked him. Fortunes naturally reverse as you’d expect though: Glomgold dashes forward and ends up putting Baba and her camerabird in danger and being Glomgold he irrationally assumes she’s working for Scrooge and leaves her to die. Scrooge however, after getting the rock, goes out of his way to save her because it’s the right thing to do. He can be selfish at times, and as we’ll see monstrously so, but at his core Scrogoe is a good man who will do right when the chips are down. So this leaves Glomgold trapped and Scrogoe getting his good press instead and realizes he likes the attention. 

As the flashback ends Glomgold fills in the gaps, pointing out he was stuck with the sharks for days, but slowly bonded with them learned from them and they became family, helping him with traps, joining him for thanksgiving and even getting a heart taatoo with a shark on it. Awww. Look I didn’t really need to know where Glomgold’s love of sharks came from, nor that he had some weird tarzan origin story with them.. but my life is 100% better knowing all of this so thank you Frank and Matt. Thank you. I’m also entirely convinced the two have had this whole part of his backstory ready to go for three seasons and were waiting to use it, along with the other two bits we’re about to get to. This episode as you can tell is also a vingette episode, but one where the wraparound is way more improtant than usual.. but it works given the setting and allows the stories to be as long as they actually need to be, and it addds some nice stakes instead of just having Scrooge’s villians gripe about him. 

Scrooge protests and the Bailiff puts a clamp on his beak, so he has no choice in the matter when Louie steps up for the defense. Louie also proves that irresponsible he may be.. he’d be a damn good lawyer, as he easily picks things apart, pointing out Glomgold was ALREADY bad by then, Scrooge had no intent to steal the spotlight and Glomgold is currently planting dynamite under his chair, with predictable and hilarious results. So he gets put on the “good” side of the scale. Next witness.

Next up is Ma, and I was delighted that as I’d hoped and theroized this episode wrapped up one little plot point that while not major, was something I was curious about: Ma’s claims Scrooge stole Duckburg from her family.  This was also likely the backbone of the episode at one point as Frank pitched a beagle trial episode at one time, but Disney nixed it. Likely the magic stuff was added both to justify it better and to distract Disney Channel’s higher ups because they constantly underestimate what a child will like. It was for the best though as the beagles are just a bit weaker here: While Character Actress Margo Martindale is a delight and was specifically cast for the role, overall it just feels like they ran out of ways to make the beagles a big threat and releigated them to muscle when needed, to the point they only appeared in one episode besides this one this season as with FOWL about, they didn’t really need villians of the week and what ones they did use like Glomgold and Mark were far more entertaining villains who needed a coda to their stories.They aren’t bad characters, but in a series where their breaking into the bin or mansion wasn’t a story the crew was interested in they served no real purpose. 

So we finally get answers about the whole Deed thing: It was sometime in Ma’s childhood, good look guessing when, and the Beagles owned Duckburg having clearly overwhelmed Fort Duckburg at some point in history between Clinton’s defense of it and now, with Grandpa “Pa” Beagle finally making an apperance. In the comics he was basically what Ma is to both series: the scheming brains behind the beagles who showed up on occasion and it was a good idea to use him as the past version of her. 

Scrooge naturally comes a calling and unsurprisingly Ma was lying: Scrooge offered to buy the place first from Pa, he refused outright, and then when Scrooge showed off the money he was offering, Pa bet the deed for it in an arm wrestling contest. Not only that but as Scrooge finds out as he almost looses, Pa was cheating having a smaller beagle boy operate pull a lever in a device attached to his arm to give pa extra force. Scroooge simply dropped a few coins to distract the guy and claimed victory and the deed. 

Little Ma is left dejected though and Doofus claims he ruined his life, but Louie steps up, at this poitn Scrooge has learned to reign himself ina nd accepted Louie as his defense without saying anything, a nice subtle bit. He probably realized that while irrepsonsible.. Louie has everything to loose her and no reason to slack off and dosen’t even relaly have to lie for his uncle to get him off: he’s simply using his ablitiy to see all the angles to poke holes in their story. 

Case in point, he orders the “tape” to continue and finds Little Ma berating her dad for his failure and forcefully taking control of the family. LIke Glomgold, Scrooge may of cost her something.. but it was something she and her family hadn’t earned and they were still on a bad road. Scrooge just made it worse. 

But suprisingly, its MAGICA, who we’ve established is an uncaring monster, who has a story Scrooge genuinely feels bad about. Like the rest she was not a good person: Long ago she and her brother Poe were extorting a villiage, and lording over it as gods, changing the population into goats, toads and other things. The only diffrence from what Magica would do to the blot and presumiibly others later, is that Poe reigned in her manical tend ices, trying to get her to think things through. The goat transformation was so they’d have milk and at least get something out of it and as to not waste all their slaves. Poe is voiced by Martin Freeman of The Hobbit and Black Panther fame. Great actor, does amazing work here.  So like the others Scrooge changed things, and fought someone with bad intentions for his own self. He talked Magica into fighting him with both amulets by playing into her ego and Poe trying to talk her down, and easily deflected her bolt with the dime to turn her into a crow with her own spell. So far it’s just like the other tales in a nice mirror.. it’s what comes next that makes Scrooge into a  bad guy too. Not as bad as Magica and Poe.. but sitll not good. Poe dives selflessly in front of the coin.. and shockingly while she cared nothing for Lena.. that wasn’t the case for Poe. Magica is truly devastated, desperatly trying to put the amulet back on and begging scrooge for help while he just ignores her and fills up his sack. And while they both deserved it... Scrooge and Louie both recognize he was wrong as the flashback ends with Poe escaping and Magica sitll haven’t having found him to this day. And props to Catharine Tate here a she takes a normally hammy terrible person who was wholly unsympathetic and manages to make her painfully human.  

What makes the act so terrible is not who it happened to, they both desrved it, but Scrooge’s attitude, utterly callous to magica’s pain with not a drop of sympathy. While she deserved it as did Poe.. he’s not doing this to her as some justice for her crimes, or because she did something horrible to him or any valid reason.. he’s doing it because he’d rather get more of her and poes gold than lift one finger to help someone who had , for all his evil, selflessly sacrificed himself for his sister. For all Poe’s evil and tyranny.. there MIGHT of been a good man in them, in both of them.. and Scrooge could’ve cared less. He shut the door on Magica ever becoming a good person, ever getting her brother back to line his own wallet and to satisfy his own ego. See that’s the true mark of a hero: how they treat others, even the worst of them. And in his lowest moment Scrooge could’ve cared less about anyone but himself. 

Scrooge feels bad and Louie does finally get the responsibility thing and this is where things start to go off the rails: he apologizes to Doofus and admits he dosen’t want an enteral rivalry and h’es sorry for any pain he caused. The off the rails part is because Doofus is genuinely not a good person, ahs done very bad things and is trying to bankrupt Louie for the crime of “taking half your fortune after you used it to torment and enslave your own parents’. It just.. dosen’t play as well as they’d like. That said I DO like both Louie deciding to bury the hatchet instead of just avoiding him and Doofus showing some nobiity in accepting it. Maybe he’ll change. 

He goes off into the night, and Scrooge genuinely apologizes and accepts repsonsiblity... and here’s where the plot finishing going off the rails and into someone’s living room: the bailiff AWARDS THEM SCROOGE’S FORTUNE BECAUSE HE ADMITTED SOME CUPLABLITY AND WAS HUMBLE. 

This just.. it makes no sense, it will never not baffle me and it hurts my brain> Yes he admitted some wrong doing and apologized for it.. but it was also THROUGHLY proven the other two weren’t his fault, and he was simply being a good man which should get him some good. Thankfully the conclusion is a bit better, as Louie points out while they made him, he made you so who made who, who made you... okay i’m getting into the AC/DC of things point is these incidents all shaped Scrooge into a better person.  His mistake with Magica. is clearly learned from. He’s stopping a group of bullies in Ma’s story and saving a life without a second thought in the second. He learned to value others, to value family all because THEY showed him what happens when you don’t. By seeing the worst person he could be.. he became the best. So the trial’s thrown out his assets are returned, and their teleported out before magica can hit them with lighting. Lesson learned.. well kinda Louie tells scrooge to do it because he got the pet. 

Final Thoughts for The Life and Crimes of Scrooge McDuck:

Great title aside.. this one is a mess. It’s not a terrible episode: the flashbacks are genuinely engaging, each one helping flesh out the villians and in Ma’s case pulling one last dangling plot thread. Glomgold’s was just entertaining , clevelry using his 80′s origns for an 80′s style news special and giving us the origin to his love of sharks that we didn’t know we needed., Ma’s tied up a loose plot threat with a fun flashback and Magica’s was genuinely heart wrenching and did the tall task of making us feel for someone that terrible. The wraparound.. was a bit weaker. Doofus was the best part, playing an excellent manipulative bastard lawyer, and being a genuine threat and his walking away peacefully was a nice touch, and Louie having to defend scrooge was great and showed him off better than ever. And Louie did get some moments to shine.. it was just wierldy bookened with him acting terribly AGAIN, in a way he should know better than in an episode where he acts fine for most of it and even then he thinks lying to a judge is a good idea! I know he’s 12 but he’s not this stupid and while as I made very clear i’ve seen this shit before, I haven’t seen it flip flop in the same episode. Louie deserves better than this. 

But it’s also in service to a responsiblility aseop that just.. dosen’t work as presented. Yes you should take responsiblity for your past, yes you should learn from your mistakes and own up to them, I have, and yes it’s all too easy to slide back> That’s all fine.. but him apologizing to Ma, whose family was terorrizing a town, and Glomgold, who he did nothing to, and having Louie apologize to Doofus, who while he tried to exploit him still enslaved his own parents and deserved to loose half his fortune AND loosing half his fortune wasn’t even the main thing Louie wanted to do as his main goal was getting BOYD a loving family.. it’s bullshit. Just pure Grade-A bullshit. Why are you booing them their right. It’s a good idea for a moral but it’s executed so overwhelmingly poorly it bogs down what was otherwise an exceptional episode, into just passable.  It’s just mind numbing and saddening to know the next to last episode wasted so much good ideas on a clumsy moral. Thankfully I have hope the finale will be better, and again at least we got some good out of this one. 

Next Time: Endgame Baby! Clan McDuck and their Amazing Friends Vs F.O.W.L. for the fate of adventure itself! One last ride! I can hardly wait!

This week on the blog: Ducks Ducks and more ducks.. and a top 12 list of my faviorite superheroines later today’s for international women’s day. But after that we have more of the Della arc, the last step in the Lena arc before Shadow War next week, and the 87 ducktales pilot treasure of the golden suns!

If you liked this review, share it around, follow for more, and you can comission your own for 5 dolalrs an issue or episode, or kick in some money on my patroen, link on my blog. Even a dollar a month helps and my next stretch goal is 5 dollars away and if we reach it i’ll review both the super ducktales mini series introducing gizmoduck AND a darkwing duck episode a month. Until the next rainbow it’s been a pleasure. 

[soliverse]

baby don’t like it - q.kn

pairing: royal au duke!kun x princess!reader ft my best girl, Irene of Red Velvet

genre: angst, much muuuch stronger than the last one

warnings: mentions of violence, cheating, cussing, alcohol consumption (again, nothing too explicit, just giving you a bit of a heads up.

word count: 3171

Prompts:

“Keep the change, ya filthy animal.” - Home Alone (weird choice, I know)

“Baby, whether rain or shine, naughty or nice. I'm by your side.” - Ariana Grande (Not Just On Christmas)

ps: did I just write another angst for another Christmas special?

Yes. Yes, I did.

Baby Don’t Like It is a part of my Walking in a Winter Wonderland Collab with @suh-insane​ and @neocitybynight​. Once again, this is one of my first collabs and I am thankful for the approachable anons that let me join this event.

You can check the Walking In A Winter Wonderland event and the works of my fellow NCT writers over here!

networks: @nctcreations​ @kdiarynet @kpopscape

Men.

You’ve always hated them.

You’ve hated how your father treated your mother. You’ve hated how you’re treated all your life just because you’re not born as a man. You've always hated how they controlled every single decision in your life. You've hated how you're forced to marry someone you don't love for "the sake of our people".

But out of all the men that you hated; it was the one right in front of you.

As your assistants helped you get dressed, your husband was just sitting there on his phone, looking all nice and fine and smiling from ear to ear. He looked divine, suit garbed in black and red, making him look almost ethereal. Strands of his dark hair falls into his forehead, framing his perfect face even more. At the same time, he decided to wear his circular glasses, something that he did if he didn’t want to use his contact lenses.

Overall, his outfit made him look like one of those princes from those fairytale books that you had as a kid.

You can't help but roll your eyes, but you can't say whether it's from your assistants eyeing Kun or that he just HAD to be there to see you get dressed. After hours of getting ready, they placed a heavy tiara on your head as a finishing touch.

You stood up from your seat and twirled, making sure that everything looked perfect. You walked towards Kun and did a little wave to get his attention away from his phone. It didn’t work, so you walked closer to the couch and tapped his leg. This time, he shot up a look in your direction, still smiling.

“Oh hey. You good to go?”

You nodded as an answer. The two of you then made your way into your car, him being the driver. The car ride was eerily quiet. None can be heard except for other vehicles passing by and funky Christmas songs blasting from people outside. Well, there isn’t that much to talk about. You’ve spent every hour with each other that you feel like there’s more to share.

This is probably the reason why he suggested the event in the first place. Social events aren't really your thing, but at least it’s better than to stay at home and celebrate Christmas in silence. Or worse, spend it at your parents' mansion.

“Hey baby, cheer up a little.”

He was the first one to break the silence.

“Thank you for coming with me to the event. It means a lot to me.”

His voice was soft, just like it had always been whenever he’s talking to you. He moves closer from the other side of the and took your hand, squeezing it tightly. You never said anything. You just smiled at him in return, not really knowing what to say. It stayed that way until you reached the venue.

It was already a bit late at night and the whole city glistened from the twinkling lights that adorned it. The snow slowly falling down made your entrance to the party even more magical.

The car door has opened and cameras started flashing left and right. Dozens of paparazzi surrounded the area while the guards tried their best to keep them out. Kun made a point to wave to everyone, a move that everyone loved. You tried to force a smile as he wrapped his arms around your hips, feeling the silky fabric of the dress that you’re wearing.

Everyone greeted him, of course. His cheery self was acknowledged by everyone around him. Meanwhile, you just politely bowed at everyone else, forcing an awkward smile whenever someone tried to make interactions. They were probably bummed up that YOU had to go with, though. After all, Kun was the life of the party. The darling of the crowd. The Diana to your Charles.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome our honorable guests for tonight. The main benefactor of Little Angels’ Children Hospital and the people behind this lovely event, Duke Kun and Her Highness Princess Y/N of the Northernshore.”

The crowd applauded as you made your way into the grand halls and took your place in the seat designated for the both you. It was a table that was isolated from everyone else, so the two of you are just stuck together. Sitting there was uncomfortable to say the least. You knew he wanted to mingle with people, but being the introvert that you are, he can’t leave you alone.

The program proceeded as usual. The children from the hospital sang some carols which touched everyone’s hearts. One of the cute little girls gave you a small figurine that she made. You gave her a warm hug before letting her join the other children on the stage. Kun, on the other hand, was trying his best to focus on the gala.

“Is something wrong?”

“No. Not at all.” He chuckled awkwardly, sneaking peeking on his phone from time to time. You didn’t pay him that much attention and shifted your focus back to the kids. The host announced that dinner will be served soon and the program will resume right after. You felt the need to go to the bathroom and so you tugged on his jacket to get his attention. Some Christmas carol was playing overhead and so he leaned down to hear what you had to say.

“Excuse me for a second. I need to powder my nose.”

You shyly whispered in his ear. He again flashes a sweet smile before nodding. Other people are so standing up from their seats, taking this opportunity to mingle with other people while dinner is being prepared. The guards offered to go with you but you declined and insisted that they stayed with Kun. From far away, you can see a bunch of people enthusiastically going to his direction. You just sighed as you walked across the crowd of people with your head down.

As you’ve finally reached the bathroom, the first thing you did was lock the stall and breathe. You rested your head at the door for a few seconds before finally doing your business. You’ve heard some people entered the bathroom. Your ears perked up to listen at their conversation. To your relief, none of them talked about you. They didn’t take long inside, probably just touched up, and left the bathroom.

Making sure that no one is inside, you opened the door and proceeded to look at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t that bad. Your red silky dress complimented your body and skin well. There are strands of your hair cascading from your messy bun, but that just added to your look. You look fine. It’s just that in everything that you say and do, everything pales in comparison to your husband. Opening the sink, you washed your hands and tried to snap out of Grinch mode. After all, it’s almost Christmas. You should be having fun.

///

After leaving the bathroom, this time with a much jollier attitude, you saw Kun sitting in the same table. This time, he was with a woman. A woman that you knew pretty well.

Minji used to be your bestfriend during highschool. She was the only one kind enough to talk to you and actually get to know you as a person. Unfortunately, things changed just as soon as you reached college. Kun was a junior at that time and he became the guide that toured the freshmen throughout the university. Minji has been whipped ever since and Kun returned the favor.

Her family aren’t a part of the royals, which meant they can’t be together. A fact that had always pained you whenever you think about it. A part of you still felt guilty upon breaking the former couple apart. You never had the guts to faced Minji and so you made your way towards the open bar. Maybe some drinks will help you clear your head.

Trying to hide from other people and the guards, you picked a seat just right at the farthest corner of the open bar. You sat at one of the counters and ordered whatever drink that can get you drunk the fastest. You downed the drink fast, not even minding the harsh taste that it leaves as soon as it hits your tastebuds.

A voice suddenly interrupted your drinking session. You tried to hide your face to avoid being recognized, but the woman still sat down right next to you.

“A princess shouldn’t be drinking like that.”

“Excuse me?”

You finally turned around, casually flashing a playful smile at you. Your eyes grew wider at the sudden realization of who she is.

“Irene! It’s been ages!”

You almost spilled your drink to the floor as you stood up to hug one of your old college pals.

“It’s been forever, and yet you still act like a royal novice.”

The lass never changed. She was still her snobby self, a trait that you used to hate before you came to realize that that’s just her quirk.

The two of you are almost squealing before finally letting go of each other. You sat back down excitedly before pouring yourself another drink.

“Okay. Why are you here?”

“Remember Suho? The doctor? Well, he’s thinking doing business with the hospital. He’s making it some sort of an extension.”

"I still couldn’t believe that you got married." You said while chuckling. The old Irene had always had this intimidating aura to her that no boy ever dared to talk to her. It’s something that the two of you had in common.

"I could say the same about you."

Irene snickered as she motioned the bartender to bring more drinks for the two of you.  She casually grabbed her wine glass, being the classy lady that she is, and took a bit of a sip at her sparkling champagne, eyeing you shadily like there’s something she’s trying to tell you.

“I see that your husband is having fun without you.”

You just sighed as a response.

“Royals are for royals, Y/N. Minji isn’t born with a title.That is not your fault. Keep your head high for fuck’s sake. You’re THE Princess.”

You raised an eyebrow at her, preparing to talk her down to filth. However, her phone lit up from a phone call that she's receiving.

"I'm gonna have to leave you for a sec. It's Suhyun's babysitter."

She gave an apologetic smile before grabbing her purse from the counter and finishing the last of her drink.

"I’ll be back in a moment.”

She tossed a wink at your direction before you’re left alone in the bar once again. You started drinking once again when you felt a tap on your shoulder. Thinking it was Irene, you turned around and was about to talk smack to her. Instead, it was your husband. He grabbed you by your wrist and took you to an empty storage room nearby.

“The guards have been looking for you everywhere.”

His voice was low, but you can tell that he’s incredibly pissed.

"I just needed a drink to lighten myself up. Figured you need some time to hang out with your colleagues without your boring wife tagging along."

“You’re glad that I found you first. What would the media say if they saw the princess drinking like she’s in a college frat party?”

You just rolled your eyes at him and tried to free your hand from his tightening grip.

“I want to go home.”

“You are not going home in the middle of the event!”

You scoffed.

“Yes, I can. I’m the Princess. Just tell them I feel sick or something.”

You finally managed to escape his grasp and you walked out of the storage room by yourself and walked back into the. Sure enough, you used your acting lessons to feign an illness. The guards took charge immediately and escorted you back to the car. It caused a bit of a scene, so it didn’t take long before Irene found you. She whispered something in your ear and you just nodded.

“Change of plans boys. I’m going to we’re going to the hospital.”

///

"Wakey-wakey…”

Kun felt a sudden surge of pain running through his body. His vision was blurry, pupil still adjusting to the light blaring through his face. Despite this, he can definitely see one thing. It was a silhouette of a woman.

"Ugh… Who are you?"

Moans and groans escaped his busted lips, the taste of metal fills his mouth. Not only was his mouth filled with his own blood, he was struggling to talk because of the dryness in his throat. He tried to move but his body felt sore. His arms and feet were tied up to this chair, making it impossible for him to get up.

The last thing that he remembered is that he is on a car ride somewhere, until his own guards pointed their guns at him.

The woman just laughed as a response. She walked towards him, dragging something heavy behind her. The screeching sound coming from the friction of the floor and metal stings in his ear.

Suddenly, he felt a hand run up to his shoulder into his neck making all of the hair in his body stand up. He had never felt more scared in his life. He felt her face lean over and whispered something to his ear.

"You know very well who I am Kun."

"Irene…"

The woman laughed once again. It sounded darker and more maniacal than earlier.

"I'm glad you remembered you my name after all these years. However, I'm afraid I’d have to cut this reunion short."

Just as she stood up, another silhouette appeared from the dark. The tapping of the back of her heels filled echoed across the hospital room, completely stealing your attention from Irene.

This time, he's certain about who it is.

"When you said that you'll make my problems disappear, this isn't what I had in mind."

You took the coat off of your body, letting in fall to the floor. He was about to beg you to release him, but he noticed something.

You had that dangerous look in you. Your blank cold stare even scarier than Irene's. The typical shy demeanor was dropped and instead replaced by those of predator. Someone that wants to eat him alive and make him disappear in the face of the Earth.

"I had a little fun with him already, if you don't mind.”

Irene walked towards your direction, smiling from ear to ear seeing her old friend back like this.

“I’m afraid I have to leave you here darling. Suhyun and her father is probably looking for mommy right now. Call me when you need me.” She gave you a delicate peck on your cheek before walking away from the room.

Now, the two of you are left alone. Silence once again peeks in as the two of you just stared at each other. Even up until now, that never changed.

This time, you’re the first one to speak up.

“You’re probably wondering why you’re in this situation.”

You took one of the seats and dragged it just a few meters in front of him. You sat down, leaned back while your arms and legs are crossed.

“I know about the affair between you and Minji.”

“Baby, please. It’s nothing...”

He used his sweet voice again, but to you it sounded more like teeth-rotting sugar. That sickly sweet taste that made you want to gag.

“Oh, stop the bullshit. I know about ALL of the affairs.”

You finally stood up from your seat and held your right hand up in the air.

“Let’s see. There’s Rosie, Jessica, Heather…” You spouted more names, taking down a finger every time you mentioned one. Kun is now looking even more uncomfortable. This time, it was his turn to look down, hiding the guilt-ridden expression of his face. Your finger touched his chin, tipping his face up in your direction.

“Wanna know how I knew?”

You poked your tongue in your cheeks and rolled your eyes before giving him one hard slap on his cheek.

“It’s because of those damn glasses! I can see every lewd picture that they send you, asshole!”

You look down at his direction and you saw tears running down from his face. He was trying his best not to sob because his own mouth betrayed him.

“What, baby? you don’t like being slapped in the face? Isn’t that what you wanted Minji to do to you whenever you’re fucking at the manor when I’m at business trips?”

The last sentence made you choke on your words. The combination of seeing Kun crying and the recollection of memories made you a bit soft. Your legs shook, making you kneel down on the ground and sob like a little girl when someone had taken her toys away from her.

“Why did it have to be Minji?”

“I-I’m sorry Y/N. Please… Let me fix this.”

You wiped you tears away just as you dropped this bombshell.

“Why did it have to be her? My first love?”

Picking yourself from the floor, you went back to where your discarded coat is. You wiped your tears out with the sleeves of the coat while you rummaged through its pockets.

“I can’t stand it. Even when you married me, she ‘s still stupidly in love with you.”

“W-wait… What do you mean?”

“Minji used to be my pretty little angel. You just had to turn her into your slutty mistress, don’t you?”

You felt something hard on your right pocket. It was the gun that Irene left you earlier at the party. Right beside it was your phone, blowing up with notifications of people greeting you a Merry Christmas as the clock just turned 12:00 a few minutes ago.

“It’s a sad thing that this will be our last Christmas together.”

You said once again, finally calmed down from the tears that you have just shed a few moments ago. Kun was now shouting at his seat, finally aware of what you’re about to do.

“You are not gonna get away with this!”

“Oh. But I will…”

You smirked at him once again.

“If I killed you right now, Irene and his men would take care of your body and discard it without anyone noticing. They do it all the time. If people suspect that I did something to you, I can just say that I went to the hospital to get treated. They have logs and cameras over here to back up my claims.”

You cocked the gun in your hands and started pointing it to his temples.

“..And as for you baby, text records show that you’re about to run away with Minji tonight. All of your other secrets will be exposed and people will finally see what you really are…”

You took a deep breathe before mustering up the courage to pull the trigger.

“Merry Christmas baby. I’m sure they’d appreciate charity events in hell.”

[luckykoneko]

@khoc-week​ I am VERY late to the party but I wanted to share some info about my Dawn Trio so I’m just gonna do one prompt for each day. Actual post is below the cut because of large images (thanks tumblr...)

1: Character Sheets. (all images made with Rinmaru’s Mega Anime Avatar Creator - can’t link to it because it used Flash so it doesn’t work anymore)

Name: Luciana (Lu for short) Gender: Female (she/her) Height: 185 cm Homeworld: Scala ad Caelum Weapon: Keyblade (Fairy Stars) Other info: Butch Lesbian, undisputed leader of the trio, dislikes swearing but can and will play the dirtiest cards in Cards Against Humanity

Name: Fye Gender: Nonbinary (they/she) Height: 166 cm Homeworld: Scala ad Caelum Weapon: Staff Other info: Specializes in Water and Ice magic. Literally unable to wield a Keyblade; they were bequeathed TWICE but still never managed to summon their own Keyblade. The most impulsive of the trio. They tend to act dumb or say stupid things, but they’re really quite smart, most of the time.

Name: Wolf Gender: Male (he/him) Height: 190 cm Homeworld: Unknown, met the other two in Traverse Town Weapon: Claymore and improvised weapons (yes, this does mean he has on at least one occasion yeeted a chair at a Heartless) Other info: He’s a Summoner, his favorite Summon is Ixion (an Aeon from FF10). He’s the voice of reason in the group and also the calmest and quietest of the bunch. He’s at least a few years older than Lu, but hasn’t told the others exactly how old he is.

2: Adventure

For these three, adventure means getting to experience new worlds together. Especially Fye is always excited to explore new places, but Lu is never far behind, leaving Wolf to catch up with them and keep them out of trouble. Their adventures are pretty tame most of the time, since they like to take it slow and explore each world at their own pace, but none of them shy away from tough battles. They always decide their next destination together, and if they can’t decide, they flip a coin or roll a die to decide.

3: What is most important to them?

Lu: Definitely her friends. She deeply cares about Fye and Wolf and would be willing to sacrifice herself if it meant saving them. She also misses her classmates a lot and often wonders how they’re doing.

Fye: Getting to experience new things! They get bored easily and love traveling around. They especially love worlds where they need to change their appearance to blend in (such as Atlantica or the Pridelands) because they love dressing up. Changing their appearance also lets them experiment with their gender presentation, so it’s a win-win for them.

Wolf: Knowledge. He’s always on the lookout for new information about every world he visits, and he loves putting his new knowledge to use. He’s determined to use his knowledge for the good of the worlds and the safety of his friends.

4: Alternate Universe

I imagine these are what animals they’d look like in Disney worlds where they’d have to change to animals. I literally came up with these on the spot, but I’d been planning to think about this for a while so it works out.

ATLANTICA (what tails would they have) Lu: Hourglass Dolphin Fye: Commerson’s Dolphin Wolf: Atlantic Spotted Dolphin

PRIDELANDS Lu: Black-Backed Jackal Fye: Caracal Wolf: African Wild Dog

ZOOTOPIA Lu: Maned Wolf Fye: Fennec Wolf: Eurasian Lynx (ironically he’s the only non-canine in this world)

BAMBI Lu: White-tailed Deer Fye: River Otter Wolf: Moose

Unfortunately I had no time to prepare art, otherwise I would’ve drawn at least their Pridelands forms and maybe some of the other ones.

5: What does your character do in their free time?

They hang out together! Wolf will usually read or work on some kind of jigsaw or 3d puzzle. Lu will work out a little and then take a nap, or if she has the opportunity she’ll bake something, usually muffins. Fye will sketch or convince Wolf to play some kind of board game with them.

6: Home (borrowed prompt from day 7 because none of the day 6 prompts worked for me)

Their childhood homes are very different from each other, but none of them would want to change anything if they could.

Lu: Grew up as the oldest of three siblings and had to help her mom raise her two younger sisters. Her dad was chronically ill and couldn’t work. Lu studied under Master Odin and finished her Mark of Mastery Exam one year before the events of Dark Road. By then her dad had passed away and her mom and sisters were getting back on their feet, so she helped them figure things out and then left Scala with Fye. Now, she considers her home to be with her friends

Fye: An only child and definitely the one with the best home situation. They were raised by their entire family (parents, two aunts, one uncle, and all four grandparents) and learned magic from their uncle and grandparents. Eventually they learned everything they could learn from their family and decided to leave, but waited for Lu to finish her studies so they could tag along with her. They consider home to be anywhere they feel comfortable, and they hate being alone.

Wolf: He keeps most of his past a secret, but has told the other two that his parents were divorced and he was raised by his dad. He eventually went his own way once he was old enough to move out. He doesn’t really have an idea of what home means to him now, but he thinks being around Lu and Fye is better than being alone, so that’s something.

7: What was your character creation process like?

I do love me some meta questions. I came up with these three on the same day, after I was messing with a name generator and looking for a name for a different character. Both Lu and Fye got their names from (variants on) names the generator gave me, while Wolf just showed up to complete the trio. Their appearances also came naturally once I started messing with the avatar creator, Lu probably gave me the most trouble at first but once I had her hairstyle down I figured the rest out pretty quickly.

Their personalities came naturally, especially once I figured out that Fye is the troublemaker of the bunch. Most of the information in this post is actually things I figured out on the spot while answering these questions, even though I’ve had these characters for well over a year now, since I mostly develop them in response to prompts.

I wanted Lu to be from Scala, but at the time I didn’t know how she would know the Dark Road characters, so I didn’t think about her backstory until much later. Eventually, I decided that she finished her Mark of Mastery a year before the events of Dark Road and doesn’t really know the DR characters, though she might’ve met or even tutored Baldr’s sister.

Fye was never supposed to have a Keyblade, but I figured that it’d be interesting if they were bequeathed but unable to wield one. I like to think that some people are better suited for wielding Keyblades than others, so I wanted to play with that idea. Canon is not on my side here but I don’t care!

Finally, Wolf is mostly just the kind of character I needed to balance the group. He is loosely based on various anime and game characters I like, but doesn’t inherit any specific traits from them, other than the whole “not talking about his past” thing. Whenever I come up with new headcanons for these characters, he mostly follows after the other two, though sometimes he’s the first I develop a headcanon for.

I could probably ramble about these three even longer if I gave the other prompts some more thought, but I think I’m going to stop here, this post is long enough as it is.