#the kat has spoken | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

momentomori24 · 2 months

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I swear to God, Twitter being able to accumulate so many brain-dead, malicious, pseudo intellectual low lives all in one place at the same time is a phenomenon worthy of being studied under a microscope in a science lab. And no, that is not a compliment.

Thankfully people have already spoken out against this bullshit-- the fact that people needed to is already maddening to think about-- but as someone who got the basic gist of what happened literally yesterday I'll also put my voice out there: Don't you fucking dare try to paint Hbomb as a murderer over this situation.

Somerton may be a lying, misogynistic plagiarist and conman, but he obviously doesn't deserve to die and while I do make fun of the guy, I genuinely hope that he continues to have a life after the dust has settled on everything. Not on YouTube or any social media platform for a long time at least, but just a life nontheless. I don't wish what he's potentially going through on anyone, and I hope that he makes it through this. But regardless of if he does or doesn't-- and God forbid he doesn't-- none of this is Hbomb's fault. It's not his fault, or Kat's fault, or Jessie's fault (because apparently there's people blaming her too cuz WHY NOT), or anybody's fault. All they did was call out his actions, hold him accountable for the harm he's done. They have done nothing to deserve having to carry this on their shoulders should the worst happen. They did nothing wrong. They didn't kill James (he's not confirmed dead yet either btw). They are not murderers. And to the people saying they are: say those words out loud, listen how they sound like, and re-evaluate. Just cease.

And to people like this:

''Oh I'm not blaming him for anything I'm just blaming him for what his audience did because according to HIM you're responsible for your audience'' Yeah, you people can shut your mouths too. Of course you're responsible for your audience, and that includes Hbomb too. However, your tiny, godless little monkey brain can't see why your argument is still rubbish even with that in mind. The difference between James, Internet Historian and Hbomb is that Hbomb never promoted problematic behaviour to his audience. If you promote problematic shit like harassment or misogyny or racism, then yeah, you're absolutely responsible for how your behaviour influences your audience. But that's not what he did. He made it very clear where he stood on those things, literally stating that ''if anyone were to harass Somerton on his behalf they are worse than him and will not see the light of heaven''. He's done his part in making it clear that harassment is wrong, so if someone went out of their way to go against that and harass James anyway that doesn't reflecf on him at all. Also, what the hell do you mean ''hatemobbed'' to suicide? I don't doubt there are people who went to extremes because those bad apples always exist, but most of the things I've seen are valid critisisms, memes and call outs about that guy. If holding people accountable for their actions and poking fun at them a little counts as 'hatemobbing'' (which has Filip calling his critics a ''lynch mob'' energy tbh) what the hell do you call actual hatemobbing then? Do we just let people continue being shitty because calling them out ''damages their mental health'' or ''drives them to suicide'' then? Is that a world you want to live in?

Same thing goes for people like this:

Criticing someone for their objectively bullshit content and wanting them dead are two seperate things. What the actual hell is wrong with you. The plagiarist in question is a person. Those ''harshest critics'' are still people. And because we're people, we care. I'd rather James pump out more plagiarised slop than commit suicide. I'd still hate him for it, but I'd prefer him being alive over the alternative any day. We all do. None of us would sleep easier knowing he's dead just because he wouldn't be ''committing the cardinal sin of putting out a 'pure content mill' video'' because someone taking their own life is horrific-- especially Hbomberguy, how dare you even try to imply that?

And this gets me to the reason I'm furiously typing all this out in the first place: Hbomb is the fucking victim here, so stop treating him like he isn't. He tried making things as right as possible by compensating those that were burned by James through a video where he revealed everything there needs to be known about the guy so that less people fall victim to his actions and lies. To just ignore the harm James was causing while he had the evidence to prove it and platform too big to threaten into non existence should he speak out would've been bad. So he didn't. He did the right thing by sticking with the people James had stolen from, giving them a voice and making them known after they've been scrubbed from the picture by decidedly being uncredited for their works or bullied into silence. He shouldn't have to deal with this for doing the right thing. He shouldn't be labelled a murderer for doing the right thing. He shouldn't have to have the death of a man on his conscience for doing the right thing. People claiming otherwise are obviously wrong, but I can't imagine what all this must feel like right now. Because even tho they're wrong, guilt isn't a rational thing, and I know that if I were in his position I'd still feel like a morally bankrupt individual were the worst to happen even if I knew that it was not my fault. This isn't a funny story. So to add to this dumpsterfire by using it as a prop to bash on a creator you don't like and immediately write Somerton off as dead even when he's not even been confirmed dead yet to do that shows how little these people actually care about the thing they're talking about. They don't care a guy potentially killed himself-- what they care about is using it to paint Hbomb in a bad light because they don't like him. Here they are, posting memes and ill jokes about this very delicate situation while barely a day since the news broke out had passed. It's opportunistic, it's sickening, and literally the exact thing he criticised in his video when talking about 'content mills'. Like, I know none of these clowns bothered to actually watch it, but have some self-awareness. And some shame too, while you're at it.

This long story short: I'm writing this to contribute to the narrative not getting twisted to make Hbomb out to be the villian. Same goes for everyone else. Don't let these people paint them as the villians. If I see another person pull this shit again I will literally bite you and shred you into salad and spit you back out because I hate you so much and I mean that wholeheartedly.

To Hbomb: you will never see this but if you do, take care of yourself.

To the asshats this post is about: Delete your account. Cease all together. Stop talking about this. Just leave him the fuck alone.

#hbomberguy #james somerton #this post took me ages to finish and really grinds my gears #i would not survive on that hellscape with people like this holy shit #really hope this situation turns out for the best #i wrote this while i was frustrated and sleep deprived so apologies for unnoticed grammar i'll correct it later #i'll be keeping my eyes peeled for any updates on this situation this is actually getting scary

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bakubunny · 20 days

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coming back to tcm practitioner!geto who does tui na massage and bodywork every time you come in bc why not.

practitioner!geto, who you never expected to be so pretty and almost soft spoken. he looks at you with kind eyes at every appointment, asks how you’ve been doing, and asks what you’re comfortable with for the day.

practitioner!geto whose hands are massive and warm. they’re soft, often so gentle and slow when he kneads and prods at your skin. it always makes your cheeks burn a little when he starts bodywork, but of course he remains professional.

practitioner!geto who’s almost more in tune with your body than you are, it seems. who catches even the slightest looks of discomfort on your face as he works, and about half the time he knows exactly where the pain is before he asks. but he asks anyways, his voice soft. “are you feeling discomfort in your stomach?” you mumble an approval, and a hand shifts there to soothe it gently.

practitioner!geto who quietly talks you through what he’s doing every once in a while. who encourages you to let your body and mind to unwind in his hands as he cradles your head and neck. who may or may not know what he’s doing when he says, “relax your neck. let me hold the weight of your head…. good girl, there you go….”

practitioner!geto who does the most work on your neck and lower back often because that’s what you need. some days, you’re thankful he saves the awkward part for last when he has you lift a leg and slides his hand under your hips, fingertips landing just above your tailbone to adjust your sacrum. he always asks if you’re comfortable, and what else should you say other than yes?

practitioner!geto who has to be aware of how your body responds when he’s that close with his hand between your legs, just above your ass, his face not terribly far from your thighs as his eyes fall shut once again. when you’re in thin cotton shorts and a tank, you think he can’t be oblivious to the way your cheeks get warm and blood rushes a bit in your body. he’s close enough that he could probably smell the arousal on you, and that thought only makes it worse.

practitioner!geto whose fingertips are gentle as he works on that delicate, sensitive area of your back. you settle back in to pushing every thought from your mind when he speaks, his voice warm and low. “that’s it, just relax….”

practitioner!geto who definitely does notice the way your body suddenly gets warmer right below his wrist. who could glimpse the damp heat at the core of your body if he tried, but of course he would never do that. who wills himself to ignore the way his body responds to yours in kind, pushing out thoughts of slipping his hand down just a little further.

practitioner!geto who may have thought about you one too many times when he’s home alone late at night, groaning into his hand, riddled with guilt that he’s imagined you underneath him. who almost knows his dreams of you are all he’ll ever get.

gremlins: @arlerts-angel @dcsiremc @bookcluberror @zazter-den @neon-gothicc @breadandbutter33 @i-literally-cant-with-this @rinalouu @stvrfir3 @r4td0lll @emmab3mma @aria-chikage @liliththeunqualifiedsimp @yazt09 @doumadono @dreamcastgirl99 @maddietries @jazzafayesworld @karebear5118 @unofficialmuilover @cherriluvs35 @erensslut @ruu-https @hana-yuri @keiva1000 @katsul0vr @trickster-kat @flamgosstuff @mistressreaper @angelltheninth @anonymously-ominous @amberexe2 @hisconsistency @223princess @toji-girl @naughtygobbo @acenanxious @blumoonwisteria @chaos-gem @levizonlywife @kxtsxkii @katsuslover @yooxverse @nuttyunknowndetective @jjamiee21 @levis-fav-brat

#not sure abt this but hey #i know shiatsu would make more sense bc it’s japanese but i have zero knowledge on it so #also pls excuse my tag list needs to be adjusted a bit if you’re waiting to get on #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto smut #x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jjk x reader #f!reader #bakubunny

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 10 months

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Can you post more for conrad fisher?

Request: Snow on the beach for Conrad pls?

Who has watched the first three episodes? I was waiting and refreshing my tv until it was time XD Also, don't forget to get on my taglists to get notified when I post something new! I have a lot of Conrad and Jeremiah in my draft

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Per Susannah’s wish, you all came down to Cousins to celebrate her last thanksgiving. The emotions were heavy, but Susannah wouldn’t allow anyone to be sad — not even for one second. She knew the tears and sorrowful faces would take over very soon, so she wanted to have one last happy celebration with everyone at the beach house.

Being at the Fishers’ beach house outside of summer felt strange. The pool was a nasty green shade and the sun wasn’t shining all over the back porch. A thicker coat was shielding you from the late November chill, along with a scarf you had crocheted yourself. Steven loved to tease you and call you a grandma for crocheting, but he was always appreciative when you would make something for him.

After dinner, Conrad and you went down to the beach. Unlike the last time, a pair of boots and a coat replaced your summer attires.

You’ve always loved the beach — especially this beach.

The beach you grew up running to the water with Jeremiah, Steven, Conrad and Belly every summer, with your mother reminding you to put sunscreen on every few hours so you wouldn’t end up looking like a lobster. The beach Conrad taught you how to surf even if you were terrible at it. The beach you and Jeremiah buried Belly in the sand one summer. The beach you went to at night when you couldn’t sleep or had too much on your mind. The beach you and Conrad shared your first kiss.

‘’It’s snowing,’’ Conrad pointed out, drawing your attention and pulling you out of your thoughts.

You looked up at the evening sky, seeing a spectacle of white flecks of snow coming down with no sound and all around. It was beautiful, yet felt impossible. Just like Conrad wanting you. A smile curled on your lips, marveling at the sight. ‘’It's weird but so beautiful at the same time.’’

Conrad came behind you, his arms circling you in his hold. A soft hum of agreement escaped his lips, perfectly attuned to the moment. You leaned back against him, both of you standing in awe of the snowfall.

To immortalize the moment, you pulled out your phone and Conrad kissed your cheek as you snapped a picture. The snow was only slightly visible on the screen, but you knew it was there. Maybe you’ll add it to your Thanksgiving carousel on Instagram…or maybe you’ll keep it to yourself.

Despite bundling up in additional layers, the crispness of the air still penetrated through your clothes, reminding you of the chill that accompanied the enchanting scene. You shivered, the night air slowly icing your fingers. Gloves felt too much, but now you were regretting not taking some with you to Cousins.

‘’You cold?’’ Conrad asked, taking your hands in his to warm them. Though his hands were slightly chilled as well, they felt warm over yours. ‘’Here. I’ll warm you up.’’

Appreciating his thoughtful gesture, you smiled up at him, the heat transferring from his palms to yours.

You long felt guilty for taking something — someone — your sister had always wanted, but Belly was not blind. She saw the way Conrad looked at you, the smiles he kept just for you, and all the attention he always gave you. How he made you his priority — always. She wanted someone to love her like that. Someone who was cold-hearted with everybody else, but never with her. Someone who showed his feelings through small gestures and soft spoken confessions instead of going all Patrick Verona during his promposal to Kat.

‘’I love you, Conrad Fisher,’’ you whispered to him, enveloped by the quiet intimacy of the beach. ‘’You're the best thing that's ever been mine.’’

As the words left your lips, Conrad's curled into a soft smile. They were rare these days, but there was always one for you, even if it was small.

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1

TSITP taglist: @msmarvelknight @maritaleane @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777 @nomorespahgetti

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher fanfic #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty imagine

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sukimii · 2 years

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Drunken haze

Tags: prohero!Bakugou, groping, cussing, consumption of alcohol, sexual innuendos, short image. Minors do not interact!

Clubs had never been Bakugou's favorite scene.

He hated how the establishment was filled with all types of people, dancing, overly sweating, drinking, being all loud without a care in the world.

He was already chugging his seventh drink when he saw you across the bar.

A pretty little thing, wearing a silk-like orange dress that reached your midthighs, showing so much skin it was tantalizing. A sparkly, fine chain was circling your waist, and it connected with a similar necklace. Your hair was perfectly syled, as if you went to a salon before stepping into the club, and he could make out your simple make-up, which did nothing but enhance your beauty.

So delectable, he wanted a piece.

He was planning on a quick approach, throw a couple of flirts and get you at his place to hopefully bury his face in between those pretty thighs of yours. But when you briefly locked eyes with him after your friend whispered something in your ear, Bakugou felt intimidated. Something so unusual of him.

The bartender, the one attending the VIP tables, manages to catch his attention.

"Would you like anything else?"

His friends are quick to order up some concoctions for their next rounds, and when the guy looks at him expectanlty, Bakugou huffs, eyes once again finding solace in your pretty sight, now laughing at something the girl beside you was saying.

"A whiskey for me, and a Platinum Passion for that chick" He motions with his chin, eyes not even once leaving your table. He misses how his friends are exchanging weird looks, or how the bartender nods, albeit a little taken aback.

"Uh, sure. Right away"

He waits, roughly five minutes, and when the bartender finally gives you the drink, Bakugou is already feeling cocky, much more so when you look up at him and smile. A pretty smile that he wants to turn into an open box of symphony, moaning for him. He revels into the attention, but is short lived when your friend taps your shoulder to continue whatever conversation you were having.

Then, the bartender approaches his table once again, this time bringing him the whiskey. He pulls out his wallet.

"Sir, the whisky is only five.."

" If 'ya get that hot chick to come home with me those are all 'urs" the bartender takes the quite scary-looking stash of money, and looks at the prohero as if he has grown another head, then looks at his friends in search of something.

"Oi, Kats" Mina slurs, mostly inhebrieted but not enough to not understand what was going on. " u drunk?"

Bakugou scoffs. He wasn't drunk. Tipsy, yes, but not drunk. What was so wrong with a guy wanting to get some? Especially when the night offered him such pretty little thing to ravage? You're cute, too pretty to pass on such opportunity. Tipsy or not, he wants you. Consensually, of course.

"Piss off. And you-" He almost snarls at the bartender, which is quick to straighten his back, "you got a job do to. Scram!"

The poor guy leaves in a hurry, and Bakugou goes back on sipping his drink, happy to see that you too seem to enjoy his offering.

"Bakubruh-" Kirishima too is slurring, tongue seemingly twisting in his mouth by the amount of alcohol he has consumed in the past three hours. "Youh'r a lost causs"

Bakugou rolls his eyes at his spoken grammar, deciding to ignore whatever his friend was trying to say. But when his eyes went back at your table, you weren't there, and he let out a string of curses.

He scared you off.

Of fucking course he scared you. A stranger bought you a drink and then sent a bartender to tell you that he wants to get in your pants- well, skirt. Who knows how many creeps had done the same thing, he should've of known better than this. He's a pro hero for crying out loud! And just now he stooped lower than any other scumbag-

"Hi, pretty boy" He turns around like almost burned, eyes shining at the realization that you decided to approach him. He wants to greet you back, but his throat seemed to temporarily go numb.

You're so, so much more prettier up close, and he couldn't wait for that coral lipstick to be imprinted all over his skin.

"Heard you want to take me home?" Your palms slide on his pecks, body barely bending over his shoulder to give a soft, barely felt kiss on the side of his neck. His palms are sweating like crazy, while his heart is doing flips at this turn of events.

"Fuck yeah princess" He gets up from the cushion, turning around to slide his hands over that flimsy cloth you call dress, and grabs a handful of your ass. Never had his hands ever felt at home like in that moment. So small compared to him, so delicate in comparison with his roughness, so sweet, so pliant, and so easy to have. He was going to ruin you.

As he walks out with you, wrapped around your back, hands never seeming to stop at feeling up your body, the bartender turns to his colleague, mouth agape and eyes almost bulging out of their sockets.

"I swear... I've never seen someone so drunk before"

"What do you mean?"

"He paid me 10k to ask his wife to take him home, can you believe it?"

#bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou imagine #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #mha katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader

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randoimago · 3 months

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hi kat ! um could i request some kinda hurt-comforty headcanons of reader being worried that the discrimination they face in being a drow, tiefling, or something of the like, would come to affect their romantic partner (maybe gale and shadowheart?) if they decided to get together, and their partner reacting to reader's fear that they could get hurt while with them.

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Gale, Shadowheart

Note(s): Fantasy racism is always such an interesting thing. Kind of wish there were more "Go fuck yourself" comments you could make if you played a gnome considering there's quite a few times you can defend yourself as a tiefling or drow meanwhile gnomes are constantly clowned on (spoken by someone that played a gnome the very first time I've ever played D&D)

I wrote Gale with Drow Reader and Shart with Tiefling

Gale

Oh he definitely understands your fear but he's more concerned about your safety than his own. There is a lot of discrimination towards drow especially with the Absolute nonsense.

If he does hear anything rude said then he's casting some hideous laughter their way and taking you to a garden or a nice book store to relax with him instead.

If you're ever worried about his opinion on you because of the racism you've gotten from others, then he's more than happy to tell you all about how much he loves and appreciates you.

Shadowheart

Considering her reaction to Karlach, she definitely doesn't mind your race at all. As for how others react, she'd tell you to ignore them. The thoughts and opinions of random populace mean nothing to her.

She won't completely dismiss your worries, she understands your fear, but know that it won't make her view you any differently in her eyes. Now hold her and stop worrying!

Shadowheart really would be the one to hear someone say something rude or offensive about you and then immediately pull you into a kiss. Wouldn't care who watches. And if they continue talking crap then she has a few spells ready to go.

#Anonymous #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #shadowheart x reader #gale x reader

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katphantom69 · 8 months

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It's always Bumblebee being the thot bot. But I think we all sleeping on tfa Blitzwing being the thot bot, there's so much lore that could fit into that narrative. Like he could have been a thot bot before his triple changer operation and that's part of the reason he agreed to it. Him running away from the thot life joining the cons because he feels they are more accepting. Plus, LOOK AT HIM! Them thighs, he has a bit of hip too. I've seen art where he's drawn before the operation and yeah,I can see him being a thot bot lol.

Let's mix it up a bit and make Blitzwing the thot bot lol.

#tfa blitzwing #tfa bumblebee #blitzbee #the kat has spoken #random shit

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redxriiot · 2 years

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The utter potential comedy of the bakusquad/other Kiri friends being a freakin' Grrek chorus to him in being playfully against him dating Katsuki and sabotaging chances of them getting together for the lolz

#;mun has spoken #//Kiri: hmm; i wanna text Bakugou rn-. Kaminari; in the middle of sharing popcorn: Bitch don't you fuckign do it #//Sero: You're too good for him honey; please don't go to him-. Kiri: I...we're literally just going to the store???#//Mina casually slotting in during Katsuki and Kiri hanging out; and Kiri happily lets her bc the more friend the merrier!#//Bonus if she chose to deliberately sit on his lap and he didn't bat an eye at it #//Idk if it's funnier Kiri KNOWING and letting them do it bc he thinks it's the funniest fucken shit #//Or he doesn't and just thinks his friends need him to hang out with them more #//Which he'll happily do. esp if he didn't realize they picked up he likes Kat BEFORE he himself realized it for HIMSELF #//Or even didn't realize they were sabotaging Katsuki's attempts to het with him #//I think the Baku sabotage one and oblivious Kiri might actually be the funniest lmao #//Bc Kamiseromina would get such a KICK out of it all. watching Blasty McSplode just FUMING and losin' his marbles while Kiri's all smiles #//He honestly wouldn't mind TOO much in finding out. chide at them for messing with Kacchan like usual; but find it kinda funny #//Who would win? A Kacchan or 3 clowns jdhthrj #//Would still prolly defend them from the Kacchan when he inevitably kabooms

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ukagakadreamteam · 11 months

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Ghost Jam 2023 Results!

Hey folks! Ghost Jam 2023 has concluded, and now it’s time to share the results! We have, once again, had a rather large turnout, so buckle up for a long post!

This year we had 25 submissions by 31 different developers. That’s 2 more submissions than last year!

Of those submissions, 6 of them were made in the first 72 hours of the jam, qualifying for our 72 hour challenge. 3 of those were even done within the first 24 hours!? That’s a first!

13 of the ghosts were made from scratch/just a single template, with no other pre-made assets, qualifying for our New Assets Only challenge!

Additionally, this year we saw a little more variety in the languages, both spoken language and coding language, used to make the ghosts! One ghost was submitted in Japanese, and another in Russian and Belarusian!

As far as coding languages go, most English ghosts use a language called YAYA (or sometimes the older version, AYA), but we had one entry in Satori, and one in Kawari!

Of the participants in the event, 20 of them were participating in a ghost jam for the first time, and 15 of them released their first ghost as a part of the jam!

Harder to quantify with stats, but still very interesting to note, was the great variety in ghosts that we saw this year! There are a lot of really creative entries that deviate from the standard ghost style. Some are desktop buds, some are focused on a single concept, some pull you into the character’s world, and some are entire games! Give them all a try, there’s a lot of cool stuff here!

With all of that out of the way, let’s see the ghosts! As mentioned, it’s a long post, so check under the cut for the listing!

ButtonToy, by OdieDogXP:

[Download]

Enjoy pressing buttons to activate different activities!

Listen to randomized stories, or play various minigames!

Don’t miss the functional power button in the corner!

Camp Camp, by CaptainKiwi and KFC:

[Ghost download] [Balloon download]

Meet your camp guides for the day, counselor David and camper Max!

Learn about the inhabitants of the camp, the good and the bad...

Give them treats!

Comes with a unique balloon!

Captain (DEMO), by Percival / Azazel:

[Download]

Keep the captain company during his breaks!

Overhear the ship logs and strange jobs the crew have encountered!

Chat about cats!

Made with new assets only!

Faeia & Tahir, by WhatAPhantasia:

[Download]

Find yourself in a rich and expansive world to learn all about!

Get to know Faeia and Tahir, denizens of two lands at war that have become friends!

Comes with a unique balloon!

Gallery 512, by Galla, Kat, and Zichqec:

[Download]

Decorate your desktop with 1 of 4 canvas styles, each with their own animated painting and a selection of frames!

Have up to 100 lil guys wobwobwob around your screen!

Comes with a unique balloon!

Made in just 72 hours, with new assets only!

Kafe Kareopsis Hutarkam, by Smoky and sacrificedbuns:

[Download]

Sit down for a nice chat, and order some food!

Throw the food on the floor and/or eat it!

Written in Russian and Belarusian!

Made in just 72 hours, with new assets only!

Macaque, by Venelona (Tumblr / Twitter):

[Download]

Mind his moods if you want to stay on his good side!

Comes with two different shells, to change the look of his ears!

Comes with a unique balloon!

Made with new assets only!

Maxumus the Cat, by Bitzen:

[Download]

Very animated shell, including a satisfying pickup animation!

High quality recommendations... from a cat!

Comes with a unique balloon!

Nanika Atsume, by Okuajub:

[Download]

Set out food and wait for cats to come visit!

Enjoy surreal idle dialogue while you wait!

Comes with a unique modification of the Star Cloud balloon!

The first jam ghost to be made with the SHIORI Kawari!

Please arrive 15 minutes before your scheduled interview time, by Galla, Naryu, and Zichqec:

[Download]

Prepare your résumé and steel yourself for an important interview!

Answer questions, and ask questions of your own! Learn about your workplace-to-be!

Comes with a unique balloon!

Made with new assets only!

Presentable Can, by KFC:

[Download]

Stare at the can! Tap the can! Pet the can!

Comes with a unique balloon!

Made in 72 hours, with new assets only! (Actually, made in less than 24 hours!)

Rock Blue and Peach, by JopsyJop and Waffles:

[Download]

Get to know a couple of besties and learn about the inhabitants of their town!

Discuss various types of media!

Comes with a unique balloon!

Shigure, by TechNekoKit:

[Download]

Bring a rainstorm right to your desktop

Enjoy the company of a mysterious spirit

Beautiful mixed media shell

Made with new assets only!

Skrunkly, by StrangelyKai:

[Download] (Mind the content warnings in the readme!)

Enjoy a wide variety of skrunkle quotes!

Use dressups to modify the outline of Skrunkly, or invert the colors!

Made with new assets only!

Slime Fighter 2000, by Smoky:

[Download]

Fight terrifying household objects!

Play as multiple different classes!

Made with new assets only!

Slugcat, by Percival:

[Download]

It’s a slug! It’s a cat! It’s a slugcat!

Watch it loaf!

Made in 72 hours, with new assets only! (Actually, made in less than 24 hours!)

sNO - STORMBRINGER!!, by WhatAPhantasia:

[Download]

Deal with a demigod villain existing on what you thought was your balcony!

Get predictions about the weather, using actual weather data!

Comes with a unique balloon!

Made in just 72 hours!

Styrmir, by Galehaut and Ecclysium:

[Download]

Assist a god with their pet project - an island of humans!

Manipulate their mood to provide different weather variants to the humans

Help the island survive, and with a little work, thrive!

Comes with a unique balloon!

Team Snakemouth, by Adante:

[Download]

Pay for the assistance of the reliable team snakemouth!

They'll assist you with keeping your computer tidy and give peptalks whenever you need!

Help them collect items and berries along the way!

The Poke!Partner Program [BETA], by Rosenheim, Okuajub, Harmony, Blackfyre, @ohnoitsme / PEANUT, and ChatGPT (by OpenAI):

[Download]

Multiple shells, one for Professor Azalea and one for Porygon!

Nuzlocke tracker system with custom rules!

Send your pokemon on adventures and let it collect berries!

The Rain Station, by Digi_056:

[Download]

Dictate the weather and temperature!

Watch as the environment outside changes based on the time of day and weather conditions!

Images for the ghost made with clean 3D models!

Toad, by Galehaut, Secret Pie, and Ecclysium:

[Download]

Comes with a unique balloon!

Made in 72 hours, with new assets only! (Actually, made in just 2½ hours!?)

Kick the toad!

Wally Darling / Welcome Home, by idk and thebubble-mancer:

[Download]

Friendly dialogue

A toggle for horror elements, so you can play safely

Rare events made to spook you in the darkest hours of the night

Made with new assets only!

Witching Hour, by Zdzisiu:

[Download]

Take up the mantle of elder witch to guide and reform a delinquent apprentice!

Gather and study magical ingredients to fill your grimoire!

Brew your inventory into potions and test them on your pupil!

ヒカリキツネ@hikarikitsune, by ななっち:

[Download]

Spend calming days with hikari, a kitsune that relies on you to interact with the world!

Chat about your plans for the day and places you'd like to go to support her hobby as a photographer!

Made by our first ghost jam participant from the Japanese community! for jam regulars, that means an interesting structure and style not yet seen among English devs!

The first jam ghost to be made with the SHIORI Satori!

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peachy-panic · 6 months

Text

BBU: Hollywood

This idea took root and wouldn't let go. Can't say for sure if this will be A Thing, or just a one-off teaser of a thing, but here it is nonetheless.

WARNINGS: BBU, implied noncon, implied noncon drug use, the fucked up film industry

“Cut!”

He doesn’t realize the cameras have stopped rolling until the shrill ring of the bell jolts him back into his body, and out of the one he’s been inhabiting since the last call of action. He doesn’t move, doesn’t blink for a few moments, still caught in the blurry line between characters. Sometimes it takes a few seconds to remember which mask he's wearing.

There is a flurry of movement around him; PAs rush past, murmuring into their headsets, toting plush robes and glass bottles of sparkling water. Hair and makeup swoop in to invade everyone’s space, making their minute adjustments before rolling begins anew.

When he returns to himself, Henry's cheeks are cold with drying tear tracks, and his heartbeat pulses lightly in his lips.

His scene partner is already turned away, her attention attuned to the phone in her hand while a woman with frizzy hair attends to her smudged lipstick. Distantly, Henry knows if he touches his fingertips to his own mouth, they will come away in the same shade of red. Seconds ago, they were locked in an embrace, their tears mingling in the neckline of her silk gown, whispered words of affection spilling between them, and now Henry doesn’t exist. He won’t again until the cameras are pointed at him. Only then does he become alive.

A cold, acrylic nail hooks his chin and turns his head. His personal makeup artist is a woman named Kat in her late thirties with a sleek, blonde bob and smile lines around her eyes. She’s worked on every one of Henry’s films, and she has never spoken to him directly. On instinct, Henry lets his eyes fall shut, slipping back from the surface as she goes through the familiar routine of touching him up.

From behind the wall of his own little world, he allows himself the indulgence of tuning into the conversations around him. A couple of new production assistants—not much older than him—talk about the food truck that production ordered as an end-of-week treat. (This doesn’t apply to Henry. He is on a strict diet of kale and boiled chicken while he's filming. He is always filming). The wardrobe team talks about grabbing a drink at Stanley’s after wrap today. (He knows that Stanley’s is everyone’s favorite spot because it’s less than a mile from the studio, but he’s never seen it for himself). The assistant director comments on her third cup of coffee of the day. (Henry wishes he could ask for some).

The voices fade and flutter until one cuts through the rest.

“One last take, and we’re calling it, David.”

Henry opens his eyes, and Paul stands directly in front of him.

His sleek, black suit stands out among the crew's workwear, and probably costs three times as much combined. It’s hard not to notice the ways everyone’s demeanor changes the moment the Executive Producer steps onto set. In a way, it’s almost reassuring to know Henry isn’t the only one who shrinks in this man’s shadow. But that’s where the commonality ends. They may fear him, too, but at the end of a fourteen hour day, they are not the ones who return home to Paul Maxwell’s bed.

“Our star needs to be red-carpet ready in an hour-thirty.” Though he’s addressing the director, Paul stares directly into Henry’s eyes. “Be sure that he is.”

He doesn’t need to nudge the makeup artist away so much as she instinctively pulls back when Paul lifts a large hand and touches the tips of his fingers to Henry’s jaw. Henry keeps his eyes where they’ve been beckoned and pretends not to notice the assistants in his periphery who duck their faces away from the display of ownership. Paul’s thumb swipes across the corner of Henry’s mouth, taking with it a smear of Eliza Darling’s expensive lipstick. Then, wordlessly, he releases him.

There’s a renewed sense of urgency as Paul retreats from the chaos, but also one of relief that comes with the last shot of the day—for everyone except Henry.

He was up before the sun, and he knows he’ll be out long after it has set. The worst part about interior days: he doesn’t get to see daylight once. Normally, even the call of his Keeper’s bedroom feels like a reprieve after this many hours of shooting. But tonight, his previous film is set to premier on the other side of Los Angeles, and there is no premier without Paul Maxwell’s shining star.

More importantly, there is no after party without him.

There is no time for exhaustion, not for him. When the caffeine pills have run their course, he’ll be given something stronger, and he’ll take it. Whatever it takes to get through the night that will inevitably become a very long weekend.

“You heard the boss,” David says, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “Let’s make it a good one. Clear frame.”

The makeup brushes make a few last frantic swipes across his skin before they scurry away. Liza Darling tucks a blonde curl behind her ear and presses her phone into a nameless PA’s hand. Henry closes his eyes and slips into another man’s skin.

People tell Henry all the time that he’s lucky to lead the life that he does, in his position. It is only in these fleeting intervals of fiction between reality that he might just agree with them.

For the next three minutes, he does not have to be Henry, nor is he the boy with the name from a life he is not allowed to remember. For the next three minutes, he is Brock Layton: twenty-three, rich, and madly in love.

For the next three minutes, he is as free as he’ll ever be again.

“Sound speed,” the mixer calls out, raising the boom pole over his head.

“Rolling,” camera echoes back.

“And, action.”

#bbu #like bbu adjacent?#whump writing #whump #whumplr #Henry The Sad Little Starling #I've thought a lot about how BBU workers would potentially be used in the entertainment industry #because it is such a brutal and demanding work environment #and how they would have this exterior of glamor and stardom #but it would be a gilded cage as they say #and nothing would be as fun as it seems #I have an urge to write the follow up chapter #the follow up chapter being the red carpet (and the after party which is worse)#and i know what youre thinking:#hey peachy what about the 800 other stories you have started and neglected #and to that i say:

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bloodywings · 1 year

Text

Putting the "fun" in funeral

CW/TW: major character death!!! reader dies, talks of dying, talks of funeral, probably ooc Bakugou, angst with no comfort

Gender Neutral, plus size and POC friendly!!

I think that's all, please let me know if I missed anything!

Thanks for clicking, I hope you enjoy!

"Kat?" a soft whisper of a question fell from your lips, breaking the silence that had been in the room for far too long.

"Yeah?" Your boyfriend responds, you two hadn't spoken in a while, hence the silence. But how could you? The news you were just told would be enough to make both of your hearts drop. The impending silence was better than acknowledging the inevitable.

"When I die," you started. And with this, your lover felt his heart sink. You had just accepted it? He could feel a lump in his throat start. Death had been a thing that you feared, the inevitable but scary action kept you awake at night. And of course, your lover was always there to soothe your worries. Your fear of the unknown had taken a toll on you more times than either of you could count.

So to hear you, of all people, just accept this fate, was bone-chilling. "Can you make sure no one wears black at my funeral?" You asked. You could see your boyfriend's eyebrow raise at the request, so you explained "I mean, I'll already be dead, why wear black? It just kinda ruins the mood, y'know?" And to this, your lover let out a stiff chuckle. The conversation was serious, sure. But your logic was hilarious, and the blonde couldn't help the belly laugh that flowed from his lips.

And you soon joined in

"I mean seriously," you say between chuckles, "I'm already dead, I feel like black is doing too much. Have them wear pastels or some shit." You finish with a final chuckle Only to begin again after your lover says in between his own laughs. "Pastel? Are you fucking serious?" His face is beginning to turn red from how much he has laughed within the last few minutes.

"Hell yeah, have them put me in yellow, or something. But not a mustard yellow," and as you finish, Bakugou says it with you,"a pastel yellow!" and you both begin laughing again.

And as your boyfriend is punching your hospital bed in laughter, you can't help but smile. After a mission went bad, a long tear-filled trip to the hospital, before receiving heartbreaking news. You wouldn't be able to live outside the hospital. You'd be on a ventilator for the rest of your life. Barely being able to move on your own. With someone taking care of you.

Either that or they give you a week and pull the plug. You had a 25% chance of living after that. You were only 28, living a life on a ventilator until the day you died didn't sound like the best plan.

And so the second option seemed the best.

Of course, your lover had tried to talk you out of it

"I'll take care of you, you know I will, just please, don't do this" Katsuki begged. "I don't know if I could last without you." He whispered that last part.

"You say that now, but in a year or two, having to come home and take care of me is going to be absolutely shitty." You argued, standing your ground. "You're gonna wish they pulled the plug on me." You finished.

He hated this, he wasn't going to be able to get through to you. Your logical stubbornness was something that he loved. It was one of the main things that attracted him to you. But now that forgotten boomerang was coming back, and he wasn't going to be quick enough to catch it.

But when was Katsuki Bakugou ever known to give up?

Before he could continue his argument though, you did "You're only saying this now because you don't want to face the grief, but the actions of your stupid and selfish consequences are going to come back and bite you in the ass." You finished. The glare in your eyes and the tone in your voice told him that the conversation was over. That arguing was pointless.

And that's how you ended up in silence.

But now, as you're watching him belly laugh you couldn't help but smile. Sure, the thought of your impending death was making you want to sob, but you didn't want your last moments with the love of your life to be in tears.

You wanted him to look back on these memories and smile through the tears, laugh through the racking sobs that were impossible to control. You wanted a tear-filled smile to come when he thought of you. Not the fearful look on your face at the thought of death. And so you laughed with him, holding back tears.

And he did the same for you.

Whether you liked to admit it or not, Katsuki knew you like the back of his hand. He knew that your smile was to make him smile. And to answer that bright smile of yours with a scowl was too brutal.

Even for him.

And so he smiled with you, wanting to ease your worries about leaving him alone. The thought of losing you held him in a vice grip, choking him more and more. But he smiled for you.

And even a week later, when your time was up. He watched as you said your final words, surrounded by family and friends. Kirishima's arm wrapped around him, squeezing him every once in a while to ground him.

All of his friends, who had later become your friends were there. They had grown to love you almost as much as Katsuki did.

Almost, only because Katsuki would go to the ends of the earth for you. If you wanted him to all you had to do was set the timer. He'd call you when he got there. If you wanted a star, all you had to do was say when. He'd suit himself up and get to space for you. If you want your enemy's head on a platter, he'd say "medium or well done?"

He loved you with all that was in him, and as he watched the light leave your eyes, the air leaves your lungs, and the monitor you were connected to fall to an ear-deafening beep. He felt his heart sink into his chest.

A sob, so soft that you might not even hear it if the room wasn't so silent. And immediately the redhead holding him pulled him into a hug, tears streaming down his face as well.

He wanted to push Kirishima off, and walk out, but the stress and anticipation of your death had been weighing on him all week. He needed a shoulder to cry on. And with the rest of the people that he held deep in his heart surrounding him, he just might be okay.

And another dreadful week later was your funeral, you as well as the rest of his friends dressed in beautiful pastel colors. Nowhere near reflecting how they felt. The pastel was a huge contrast to the pain, guilt, and grief that was gnawing at them.

And you? You looked beautiful, in that pastel yellow outfit that Katsuki had picked out for you himself. Keeping your final wish deep in his heart.

Instead of 6 feet under with you.

A/n: Hii, so how was it? Please let me know in the comments! If you have any ways I can improve as a writer please let me know! (remember there is a difference between constructive criticism and being rude)

Notes and reblogs are appreciated

I hope you're having a good day! And if not, I hope tomorrow is better! bye darlings <3

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farity · 1 year

Text

The Wrong Bride

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OFC of House Manderly

Warnings: Smutty smut - minors DNI!

Summary: Aemond’s betrothed runs off with another man, leaving her family to clean up the mess.

“Where. Is. She.”

The words were spoken softly, but everyone in the great hall, servants and nobles alike, felt a shimmer of terror down their spines. Near the opposite end of the hall, Kateryn Manderly wondered how much of an idiot her older sister could be.

“My Prince,” her father began, “The Lady Ysobel has made a most grievous transgression and is no longer considered part of our family.”

Kateryn looked over at the tall figure who, without shouting or wielding a sword, was currently holding the very fortunes of her family in his hand. I would have said, the lady Ysobel is a dimwit who is missing out on the most magnificent man I have ever laid eyes upon.

“She is gone, Your Highness,” her mother interrupted, wringing her hands. “She has broken faith with her family, with her House, and we shall not . . . “

“Where. Is. She.” He repeated, and Kateryn saw her parents look at each other, seeking some kind of solution that would never be, in each other’s faces.

He will murder us all if we don’t tell him.

“Your Highness, Ysobel ran off with your messenger.”

Her parents looked at her with horrified expressions, but Kateryn merely shrugged. “He deserves to know.” She looked back at the prince, who seemed to have taken one minor step back from unleashing hell on them all and now was staring straight at her.

“It seems they became much attached to one another, and when the raven arrived yesterday announcing your arrival today, they decided to leave.”

The prince said nothing, but began walking towards Kateryn, who decided maybe it hadn’t been her best idea to start talking during such a tense moment, but things were done and she doubted the prince would kill her for being the only one who, after all, was telling the truth here.

By the Warrior, he was imposing. He took his time crossing the hall, giving her plenty of time to examine his long legs, slim waist, large hands. His face was all sharp angles, like the artist hadn’t bothered sanding and polishing the rough edges before they decided this masterpiece was done.

“You’re her sister,” he said, looking down at her.

“Kateryn Manderly, Your Highness,” she replied, bobbing a curtsy.

“Yes, yes! She is Ysobel’s sister, my prince,” her father called out. “She has not her sister’s beauty or refinement, of course . . . “

What?

“ . . . but she is kind, amiable, and would be loyal and devoted to you . . . “

Makes me sound like a dog.

“ . . . so you may have a Manderly bride after all!”

“What?” Kateryn turned to her father,

“And she is old enough to be wed,” her mother added, “her first blood arrived last year. Kat, close your mouth.”

Stranger take me!

“Wait,” she said to her mother.

“She is better than nothing, Your Highness,” her mother said, ignoring Kateryn.

* * * * *

Aemond looked down at the incredulous look in the Lady Kateryn’s face. She was shorter than Ysobel, her lips nowhere as lush as Ysobel’s, her eyes didn’t have the doe-eyed look that Ysobel’s had, and her hands were tiny things instead of Ysobel’s elegant and graceful hands.

He’d accepted the marriage treaty upon seeing the beauty that was Ysobel, having learned long ago that marriages were a thing of luck and fate, and at least he could satisfy himself with Ysobel’s lush, sylph-like body until he got enough children on her. He’d walked into the great hall hoping to claim his betrothed and have her naked and splayed out beneath him by nighttime, her long legs wrapped around his flanks as he sank into her. He’d take her in every inn on the way back to King’s Landing and plant a babe in her belly before the week was out.

Instead he was being offered her shorter, plainer, “better than nothing” sister.

Second best for the second best, he thought bitterly.

“Are you a deceitful whore like her?” he spat out, and watched her eyes widen. There were gasps throughout the hall, but no one dared say anything.

Kateryn raised her chin, “I am neither deceitful nor a whore, Your Highness,” she said coolly, “It is not something that runs in families, much like being a depraved drunk is, hopefully, not something that runs in your noble house.”

Aemond blinked, twice, at the girl who had just, in the middle of all the tense revelations about Ysobel, insulted his family. Admittedly, she was right about Aegon, but then he saw a small smile blooming at the corner of her lips and decided he couldn’t let her laugh at him. He grabbed the back of her head, caught the flicker of fear in her eyes -

good

- and pressed his mouth to hers. She gasped in surprise and he took advantage of her parted lips to begin exploring her mouth with his tongue. Her small hands were against his chest now, not pushing him away - not that she could - and he could have sworn she was leaning into him. She tasted sweet and innocent and had begun to kiss him back, and for a wild moment he thought of ordering everyone out and taking her on the center table.

They would do it. They would let him. She would let him.

He ended the kiss abruptly, holding her arms when she swayed. “Bring the Septon,” he said, still looking down at her.

“Your Highness, the ceremony is arranged-”

“That ceremony involved your whore of a daughter,” he snapped. “I will be taking my bride home today.”

* * * * *

Ten minutes later, with only her parents and three servants as witness, the Septon had arrived and the Manderly cloak was draped over her shoulders. Her mother had hastily stuck some flowers on Kateryn’s dark hair before reminding her that she should agree to any demand the prince made, in bed or anywhere else.

She said nothing to her father as he stood next to her, said nothing to her mother as she fussed over the cloak.

The musicians had arrived in the nick of time to play a soft melody as she walked towards her future husband. She remembered the feel of his hand on the back of her neck, the way the muscles of his chest had felt against her hands. His lips had been surprisingly soft, his kiss relentless, and she had barely been able to stay standing when he’d released her. She felt her face warm and hoped she wasn’t acting the fool.

Finally she was next to him, the light colors of her cloak a sharp contrast to his black clothes. The Septon was speaking but Kateryn was barely listening. When it was time for the cloak to be removed, her father kissed her temple and for a moment she felt the chill as the large piece of cloth was taken off her shoulders. She saw the prince receive the Targaryen cloak from a servant and she turned her back to him, scooping her hair to one side before he placed the heavy cloak around her. His hands lingered on her shoulders, and before she could do it herself, he had moved her hair back, his calloused fingertips skimming over the back of her neck.

Kateryn was glad Ysobel had demanded a marriage ceremony under the faith of the Seven. There were rumors that Targaryens cut themselves during old Valyrian-style ceremonies and she wasn’t sure that bloodletting was the thing she needed after this eventful day.

She chanced a look up at Aemond. He kept tapping his fingers on the hilt of his sword, probably in a hurry to leave, she thought. When he turned to say the words, his expression was inscrutable, closed, but he spoke clearly and calmly, while she barely heard her own voice.

The Septon ended the ceremony and smiled kindly at her before she turned to face her husband. This time he kissed her just for a moment before escorting her back towards the main door of the castle. He’d stated that they would be leaving after the wedding, and it only took a few minutes before she was sitting in the carriage, having kissed her parents goodbye in a flurry of tears from her mother and headpats from her father.

* * * * *

Hours later, Aemond opened the door to the carriage, having scouted ahead as they approached the inn. He had a few men guarding the carriage, while others would take up their posts around the inn overnight. Kateryn - his wife - was wrapped in furs, her head resting against the side of the carriage.

She was sleeping.

He had been surprised by her from the moment he’d walked into New Castle that morning. She’d kept enough wits about her to explain what had happened with Ysobel, kept her dignity when he’d made that taunt about her virtue, had even been proud enough to taunt him back. Most of all, she’d surprised him with her response to his kiss. He had caught her examining him from the top of his head to the tip of his boots, no maidenly horror on her face when she looked at his eyepatch, no false shame as she looked up at him. But when he’d grabbed her and kissed her, he’d never imagined she’d get into the spirit of the thing and kiss him back.

She’d been fearless, even when saying goodbye to everything and everyone she knew.

Aemond had been prepared to deal with a woman aware of her own allure, a woman using her beauty to get what she wanted. Instead he’d married a woman who didn’t cower before a prince and who treated each situation she was dealt - and he was well aware of how much this day had changed her life - calmly and efficiently.

Her cheeks were pink from the layers of fur and he nearly smiled at the sight, but she opened her eyes and looked around for a moment before she saw him. “Your Highness,” she murmured, rubbing her eyes. “Forgive me, I must have dozed off.”

“There is nothing to forgive, it has been a long day.” She was trying to push off the various furs, unsuccessfully. “It is cold here, let me.” He reached in and simply grabbed her, furs and all, scooping her into his arms.

“Oh.”

He said nothing else as he walked past the guards and into the inn.

* * * * *

She was being carried like a babe, Kateryn thought. Aemond had picked her up easily before she realized what he was doing, then there was nothing for her to do but wrap her free arm around his neck. He smelled like leather and spices and she wanted to bury her nose right under his ear and stay there.

A guard opened a door and Aemond carried her into a large, well appointed room, fire blazing in the hearth and a tub full of steaming water. He set her down on the edge of the bed and began pulling off each fur. “Do you require a maid to help you?”

She shook her head. “I can manage.”

He stopped for a moment, caught her eye. “I will have dinner brought in.” He removed the last of the furs, leaving her in the grey traveling dress she’d worn all day. “What do you prefer to be called?” he asked unexpectedly. “I heard Lady Manderley call you Kat.”

“Kat is fine. As is Kateryn.”

He gave her a small bow, “Very well, Kateryn. I will be back within the hour.” He turned and left, and she sighed as the door closed behind him. She reached back to begin unlacing her dress and walked over to the tub. There were several scented oils on the edge, soaps and towels, and when she was finally naked, she stepped in, the sting of the hot water soothing to her aching muscles. Slowly she lowered herself to sitting until only her face was above water.

“My lady?”

Kateryn gasped at the woman’s voice. “Yes?”

“I have dinner.”

“Please come in.”

The woman, just a little older than Kateryn, walked in and set a tray on the small table by the hearth. “Does my lady require help with her hair? Or I could scrub your back.”

Yes, she could manage on her own, Kateryn thought, but having someone else help her sounded heavenly.

* * * * *

“I want a staggered rotation,” Aemond said between bites of his food. “Everyone rested, and everyone alert.”

“It will be so, my prince. Will there be anything else?”

“No, go take your rest.” Aemond downed the rest of his cup. He’d taken a quick, scorching bath, not wanting to stink of horse and road when he went back to Kateryn. He’d winced inwardly when she’d rested her forehead against the side of his neck, knowing full well that he’d been sweating and riding in those same clothes for hours. She hadn’t said anything and instead burrowed against him as he walked into the inn, but tonight would be traumatic enough for her without sharing her bed with a man smelling of dirt and animal.

The thought of his new wife went straight to his loins and he shifted in the chair. She was small but well formed, from everything he had seen. When he had carried her to the inn, he had wrapped one arm around shapely hips, and when she had pressed herself against him, he’d felt the soft weight of her breasts. His mouth had started to water and he’d nearly tripped on the doorway to the inn.

It wasn’t like he was a green boy. He had bedded a few, nowhere near the number of women that Aegon had victimized, but then again, he had much more self-control than the rutting pig his brother was. He had no idea how it would be with Kateryn, of course, but he would be as gentle as possible that first time. He would take his time with her, ease her fears, and make sure she was satisfied before taking his own pleasure.

He refused the offer of another cup of wine and instead went outside one last time to make sure everyone was at their posts.

* * * * *

Kateryn sat as the woman dried her hair as best she could in front of the fire. “You’ve lovely hair, my lady.”

“It has a mind of its own,” Kateryn replied, laughing. “I can never get it to do the same thing two days in a row.”

The woman laughed as someone knocked on the door.

“Yes?”

“May I come in?” came Aemond’s voice.

“Of course,” she motioned to the woman to open the door as she looked down, hoping her nightgown wasn’t too wrinkled.

The woman let Aemond in, bobbing a curtsy, and left, closing the door gently behind her.

“Would you like some wine, husband?” Kateryn poured two cups, trying to calm her shaking hands, then turned around, a cup in each hand.

“Yes, thank you.” He took the cup from her, sipped while she took several healthy swigs. “I trust the food was acceptable?”

“Mmm, yes,” she replied. “Have you had dinner? I didn’t think to ask.” She went back to the table, nearly knocking over the half empty bottle as she put down her cup. Mother’s mercy, she thought to herself.

Aemond reached out, taking her hand before she knocked over a chair or worse, fell into the fire. “Kateryn.”

“I am sorry I am not the one you wanted.” She was looking down at her bare feet, her damp hair swinging as she shook her head. “I am sorry my sister ran off with that . . . “

He pulled her in, kissing her and wrapping his arms around her until she sank into him the way she had that morning. Her small hands rested against his chest, fingertips rubbing tiny marks over his coat. He continued to kiss her but let go of her to shrug off the coat, She wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing off the coat until it fell to the floor. She tasted like the sweet wine she’d just had, and he began to wonder how the rest of her would taste.

Her nightgown was a thin mist over her body, the sea green embroidery on the bodice covering her breasts, and he realized that she was unlacing his shirt. He pulled back and she stopped. “My prince?” She asked.

“Are you ever going to call me by my name?” he murmured softly as he reached back and pulled the unlaced shirt over his head.

Kateryn could only stare. This man - her husband - was a warrior, muscles honed from endless training, his lean frame betraying the power beneath. Her hands began mapping the lines of his shoulders.

“Kateryn.”

She reached up to trace a small scar on his shoulder, a long ago wound, she mused, letting her fingertip skim over the healed flesh.

“Wife.”

She looked up at him. “What?” she asked dreamily. He was actually smiling at her, she realized. Did he know how it transformed his face? “What, Aemond?”

He blinked at her, as if surprised, and wrapped an arm around her waist. She let herself be carried to the side of the bed, where he sat before her. “Fair is fair,” he said softly before taking the hem of her nightgown. He began raising it past her knees, not rushing her, his knuckles ghosting over the sides of her thighs.

He saw the color return to her face, the way she kept blinking, but never stopping him. Her hands went to her chest as he pulled the nightgown over her head, holding the fabric in place for a moment before she let it fall between them.

She was looking straight at him, the same way he looked at people’s faces when they first met him, looking for any sign of displeasure or disgust.

Aemond cupped her face, pulling her closer until her breasts were pressed against him and then wrapped his arms around her to pull her down to the bed.

* * * * *

This was all happening very fast, Kateryn thought. He’d been undressing her slowly until she was naked before him, then he’d pulled her close and she’d felt him shiver as he stroked her back. A moment later she was gazing up at him, silver hair falling like silk curtains around them both. He was fumbling with his trousers while he kissed her, feet kicking off the garment until she felt his bare thigh between hers. She instinctively arched up against him, letting her breasts brush the hard planes of his chest.

She heard Aemond mutter a curse under his breath, felt him kneeing her legs apart. She knew what was going to happen, knew there would be some discomfort the first time, but she wasn’t prepared for the sharp burning stab of pain as he thrust inside her. Again, he shivered, murmuring her name against her ear as his hips began slamming against her. She felt the tears running down the sides of her face and could only hold on to him as he picked up speed. “So good,” he chanted over and over, until she felt him thrust hard one final time and he roared his release.

Kateryn stroked his back, glad it was all over now, as his arms shook from holding himself above her. It is done, she thought, they were well and truly married now. He had seemed to enjoy himself, which was good. He slowly pulled out of her and fell onto his back next to her.

No one had told her what to do after the marriage was consummated, though, but she knew she felt sticky and that there was probably some blood to clean up. “I will be back,” she said, and scurried to the tub.

* * * * *

He was a brute. He’d lost his mind the moment he had felt her breasts pressed against him and every single good intention he had was gone. Every lofty goal to take his time with his new wife, to give her pleasure, had vanished and he had taken her like a savage. He’d seen the tracks of tears on her face as she had left the bed and wished he could disappear. He had probably hurt her more than necessary. Sitting up, he noticed a little bit of blood on him, a couple of drops on the bed cover, and felt like the monster most people thought he was.

“Are you all right?”

He looked up at his wife, incredulous. She was asking him if he was all right?

“Kateryn.”

She picked up the discarded nightgown and slipped it over her head before returning to the bed. At least she wasn’t running for her life, he thought.

“I hope you are pleased,” she added shyly, and he felt a wave of shame like he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Kateryn.”

“I have no experience, of course, but . . . “

“Kateryn.” He extended a hand to her and she took it, pointedly not looking between his legs. He grabbed the cover and flipped it over to cover his lap before pulling her down next to him. He felt her tense at first but she relaxed as he kissed her gently. “I’m sorry, I meant . . . “

She smiled at him, her eyes still a little red. “There is nothing to be sorry for,” she said brightly, “I am sure I will learn to be better.” Her fingers threaded through his hair, her touch gentle and soothing.

He searched for the words to tell her it wasn’t her who needed to be better, but stilled when he felt her fingertips on the edge of his scar.

“Does it hurt? I’ve tended to wounds after a battle and some of the men will later say their scars can awaken even years later and there is some pain.”

“Yes,” he replied softly. “Sometimes.” He wanted to fix it, to make this night better for her, and could only think of one way.

“You must let me know, then.” She was chattering nervously, he knew, and decided to kiss her again. Her lips were soft and delicate, eager and willing, and he began tracing a line up her calf, back down to her ankle and up again, until she sighed against his mouth.

She stiffened when his hand reached her hip, but let him pull her down on the bed. His hand reached up higher until his fingers closed over one breast, and she gasped at the touch. He thumbed over the tip of her breast and she moved to take off the nightgown.

Fearless, he thought again.

He kissed her mouth once more and then began to trail kisses down her neck until he reached that lovely breast in his hand, rubbing his cheek over the impossibly soft flesh and then he took the rosy pink tip in his mouth.

“Oh.”

She’d gone very still, her breathing shallow as he savored the taste of her. Moving to the other breast, he felt her fingers in his hair, gripping him against her. She liked it, he thought, delighted.

He let go of her breast to kiss his way down until he felt her tense again. He kissed the top of her thigh, pushing her legs apart and hooking his arms underneath. She was quiet, still, and then his mouth was on her and she moaned, her back arching. He held her thighs open as he continued feasting on her, her hips rocking as she sought more and more.

He gave her more, gave her everything, thrilled with the knowledge that she belonged to no other but him, that every touch was her first, and that every new pleasure she was discovering was because of him. He savored every whimper, every mindless chant of his name as her thighs began to shake. He worked her with lips and tongue until she cried out, her hands fisting in his hair, continued pleasuring her until he felt her sobbing, slowed down to bring her back from the peak.

She had finally gone limp beneath him, and he thought there wasn’t a more beautiful sight in the world than his wife at that very moment. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted in a small smile, one hand resting between her breasts. Aemond thought of the way the day had started and smiled to himself.

* * * * *

Kateryn hadn’t known such a thing was done. Obviously one could kiss or be kissed anywhere, but it had never occurred to her.

They had shared more wine after, drinking from the same cup until her head began swimming and she fell asleep in his arms. She felt him wrap himself around her, pull up the covers to keep her warm, and dozed off in minutes.

Aemond kissed her bare shoulder, inhaling the warm, clean scent of her skin. They would be back in King’s Landing soon, but he didn’t dread it so much any more. He imagined his family’s reaction when they met his wife. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that now he saw the future as just a little brighter.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction

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