#heads up it’ll be unlikely I keep making posts with this much rendering. Just not feasible with my work life atm

[neverlandfaerai]

#this wasn’t supposed to get fully shaded but wHATEVER ITS FINE #First pokeask post of the year for meeeee 😌 #heads up it’ll be unlikely I keep making posts with this much rendering. Just not feasible with my work life atm #I haven’t had these three in the same space (pokeask-wise) so this’ll be real fun for me #got another dude that’ll probably pop up at some point 👀 #PokeaskMagiRetreat23 #pokeaskmagiretreat23 post #post #agatha faerai #esva faerai #fenellope faerai #darkrai #merfolk #mermaid #octopus #underwater #bioluminecent #asktheisle #pokeask #pokemon #pokemon ask blog #pokeask blog #pokemon oc #darkrai mermaid #pokemon character

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Infernal Shadows 03

Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it. Carmilla and Velvet feud because I also live for that. I also really favor Zestial for some reason as a calm mediator.

Song for this chapter: Ludwig van Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 61

A/N: Thank you all so much for your positive feedback & feedback in general on the last two posts!! I really didn’t think this would catch so much attention but I’m so glad people like it. For some reason Tumblr’s being weird and doesn’t want to let me tag certain people, I don’t know why but if anyone does please let me know because I really don’t like that ;/ But I hope you all enjoy this chapter!! Please note that some blogs cannot be tagged, so I recommend checking this post and to check your settings to make sure I can tag you! If anything I can always just message you when the next chapter comes out, and yes I am making this series longer :) it’ll also be posted on my Wattpad soon!

Word count: 3890

Taglist: @dollops-of-delusion @nebusokuxp @scrunchss @rosedasy @valluvz @chesstras @pishybowl @iaaeav @forgotten-blues @22carolina08 @roboticsuccubus83 @doflamingadonquixote @froggyferrets @frompeach @absurd-ash @sillysillyxinnabun @urdariingdoll @delectableworm @immahuman @justaproudslytherpuff @local-mr-frog @angeli-fucking-cat @coldsweetsenthusiast @jadekomaeda @iaaeav @coffeethoughtsandanxiety @lunalixya @pretty-puppy-stuffies @lemonrolls @asimplikeallyall @lunalixya

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part One. // Part two. // Part four.

Engaging with guests throughout the night had become an exhausting endeavor, and a part of you yearned for the solace of your absence. Nevertheless, you maintained the façade, acknowledging every sinner whose smile dripped with crimson mischief. Having greeted each guest, you discreetly slipped into a shadowed corner, your shadows enveloping your figure quickly, seamlessly disappearing from the expansive room in mere seconds and emerging into an intimate gazebo outside, meticulously arranged beneath the sweeping branches of a weeping willow, you marveled at its unique ambiance. Unlike the earthly counterparts that stood white, the willow in your realm bore a deep crimson hue, its leaves adorned with a subtle, luminous sheen. A gentle smile graced your lips as you leaned against the sturdy black iron railing, delicately cradling a piece of the weeping willow between your fingertips. In the distance, the grand mansion hosting the gala loomed, its opulence contrasting with the simplicity of your secluded retreat. Despite the awareness of etiquette dictating against leaving guests unattended, the need for a mental break led you to this haven, a safe space for you. Reflecting, you acknowledged a desire for better preparation and rehearsal with the shadows, realizing the repetitiveness of conversations with the familiar sinners had rendered the night somewhat lackluster. It almost felt like you had come out of hiding for nothing. Quite the disappointment.

You sigh, massaging your temples, the lace fabric on your fingertips only slightly soothing the growing headache. However, not too far behind, you hear the sound of soft grass. You straighten up and turn around, seeing none other than your long time friend Zestial, who just smiled, nodding at you.

“Why art thou out here all alone on this crimson night?” Zestial inquired, standing by your side with his back against the railing. You resumed your original position, taking a moment to appreciate his father. Mentally noting how much of your grandfather Zestial reminded you of, you kept the sentiment unspoken.

Tonight, Zestial adorned himself in an outfit resonant with his time period, preserving his distinctive color scheme. A dark, meticulously tailored coat with lime green accents draped over his slender frame, capturing the essence of his demonic class. The cloak, adorned with lime green spider webs, unveiled a mesmerizing display when unfurled—his lime green eyes radiating, the upper pair embellished with vivid red irises. Instead of the customary big top hat, Zestial selected a smaller, more appropriate hat with a touch of flair. Dark as the shadows you command, it featured a light grey patch at the front and was finished with a grey-colored skull and a lime green and red-striped feather on the right side, adding a distinctive touch that mirrored his nature.

“Why art thou out here all alone on this crimson night?” Zestial repeated, shifting toward you a bit. Yet you resumed your original position, savoring the quiet ambiance before finally answering him. “What shall we discourse upon during our repast this eventide?” Zestial asked. Though his wording occasionally posed a challenge for others, having grown up in a family of eloquent speakers, you easily deciphered his intent. Something he truly appreciated. Though he was learning to speak more ‘modern’, or as modern as he could be.

“Quite unsure of that. Everything is changing, and I fear I might be left behind,” you expressed bluntly. Zestial sighed in response, a mix of understanding and concern evident in his lime green eyes.

“Madame, thou art timeless,” Zestial said with a bow, his cup proofing into smoke. “I pray thee, vex not thyself o’er so trivial a matter,” he added, his words resonating with both reassurance and genuine care.

You nodded, handing him a card. His surprised expression upon finding two cards instead of one didn’t escape you. “What manner of thing is this?” Zestial inquired, prompting you to summon a shadow for yourself, knowing he would find his own means back to the Gala.

“Carmilla. I am no fool to the both of you,” you said, amusement coloring your words as Zestial shook his head.

“Thou dost astonish me on every occasion,” Zestial remarked, standing by your side as you walked into your portal. Two seats vanished, leaving four empty seats at your table and six occupied.

In your study, you floated scripts in front of you, checking off names on the table list for tonight. With a few overlords left to choose from, Alastor and Charlotte secured seats based on trust and connections. Vox, Zestial, and Carmilla, an unspoken but potent couple, promised intrigue. Reconsidering Velvet for her potential devolution, you weighed each decision with strategic acumen.

Valentino, the Von Eldritch twins, and other weaker options were dismissed, maintaining a careful balance of power and influence. As you weigh the option of inviting Rosie to the gathering, her unpredictable nature adds a layer of excitement and potential surprise to the upcoming discussions. However, this unpredictability could also introduce challenges, creating an air of uncertainty around her contributions. Hopefully with Alastor around, she’d feel more inclined to behave. You check her name off the list.

In considering Stolas, the Goetia prince, his personal issues and tarnished reputation pose significant hurdles. Divorcing from his wife, sleeping with an imp for fun, as well as losing control of his daughter on Earth, it all seemed too risky to get involved with. While his wisdom and influence could contribute positively, the shadows of his struggles may complicate the dynamics, stirring potential conflicts and requiring delicate handling. Someone might get out of line with a comment towards him. His power was incredibly useful, but not worth the risk.

Husk’s transformation from a former overlord to a bartender signals a decline in power and status. While his laid-back demeanor might bring a sense of unpredictability, his diminished influence raises questions about the relevance of his involvement in the current political landscape of hell. Though he was your friend, you needed to keep your reputation pristine.

As the you contemplate the overlords assets, a mix of excitement, caution, and uncertainty envelops the decision-making process. Each overlord’s potential positive contributions are balanced by the looming negatives.

“Madame?” One of your shadows materialized, prompting a nod for them to proceed. “There seems to be some trouble in the lobby between the guests. What would you like us to do?” it inquired. A grimace crossed your face, hoping the disturbance wouldn’t mar your night. “Let me handle it,” you declared, snapping your fingers, causing the script to vanish. The shadow nodded, blending back into a wall for you to step through.

Upon reappearing, you assumed the form of a taller shadow. The room surrounded by guests revealed Vox, Velvet, Alastor, and Carmilla standing in the middle. Zestial, seemingly composed, stood close behind Carmilla, observing the situation. Carmilla appeared visibly upset, with Velvet in proximity, a pointed finger dropping as soon as she noticed your arrival. Alastor maintained his usual wide smile, though it bordered on the eerie, revealing a glimpse of his gums. The scene unfolded, presenting a potential challenge to the serene atmosphere you aimed to maintain during the gala.

Everyone seemed to stop, slowly turning toward you to see your face. Except there was no expression, just the large shadow you had taken form of. In seconds the shadow disappeared, leaving you in the fog, the expression on your face anything but calm.

"Madame I-" Velvet began, but her words were halted by the sight of your lace glove, your hand rising to silence her. Approaching the overlords, you spoke with an air of cold authority.

"My quarters. Now," you commanded, and with a snap of your fingers, smoke enveloped your spot as you vanished. Shadows materialized around the overlords, guiding them to your quarters, leaving the stunned guests in the lobby.

"Well, that was interesting," Valentino remarked.

In your study, the overlords found you seated in your tall, black chair. Its ebony surface featured intricate carvings of black glass, elegant swirls, and patterns tailored to your essence, creating an atmosphere of undeniable authority and refinement.

"I hope you all had fun acting like children," you chided sternly. The overlords lined up, forming a unified front. Leaning against the right side of your chair, you crossed your legs, elbow on the armrest, pinching the bridge of your nose with a sigh. Annoyance laced your words as you questioned, "What did you feel the need to argue about now?" Before Velvet, Vox, and Carmilla could respond simultaneously, you halted them. "One at a time. I'd assume you all handle this like adults, if you even can." The tension in the room hung thick as the overlords awaited their turn to address your inquiry.

“She wants me at her table Vaggie! Me!” Charlotte said excitedly. Vagatha just smiled.

“That’s good! Now you can tell them about the hotel, and maybe someone will be interested.” Vagatha said, and Charlotte just nodded.

“Maybe they-“ Charlotte stopped, observing as people began to crowd around the center of the lobby. Charlotte and Vagatha stood from their spots at the bar to walk toward the center, where the overlords stood. Velvet and Vox were next to each other, while Carmilla, Alastor and Zestial were across. Carmilla and Velvet were face to face. “What’s going on?” Charlotte asked as Vagatha and her pushed their way through the crowds of people.

“Come on, Carmilla, always the mood-killer,” Velvet scoffed, a disrespectful tone tainting her words. Carmilla shot her a stern look, ready to assert her authority.

“Watch that tongue, Velvet. I will not let your insolence slide,” Carmilla retorted, attempting to rein in the escalating tension.

Vox, ever the smooth talker, chimed in, “Ladies, ladies, let’s not turn this into a drama fest. We’re all here for a reason.” Vox said, sternly giving a tight lipped smile to Velvet, silently telling her to keep her shit together.

Carmilla shot a glare at Velvet, who replied with a defiant smirk, “Drama or not, Vox, some of us aren’t here for the ballroom charm.”

Alastor, drawn to the brewing chaos, couldn’t resist adding his flair, “Well, well, a bit of spice never hurt a party, does it?”

Carmilla, unfazed by the chaos, spoke with a calm authority, “Velvet, your insolence is unnecessary. This is not a playground; it’s a gathering of overlords. Act accordingly.”

Velvet, seemingly undeterred, shot back with a dismissive laugh, “Poor Grandma, always trying to play the responsible one. Maybe loosen up a bit? Have a drink will you?”

Vox, ever the smooth talker, added with a slick comment, “Perhaps we can focus on the matters at hand. Save the theatrics for later ladies.”

Alastor, intrigued by the unfolding drama, simply grinned, “Oh the picture box has spoken! Quite intriguing.” The room continued to buzz with tension as each overlord, except Rosie, added their own flavor to the brewing turmoil. As the tension thickened, Vox, with a sly grin, couldn't resist adding his own slick comment to the mix.

"Ah, Alastor, the radio days were quaint, but it seems you're a bit outdated. Television is the future, perhaps you should tune in sometime," he quipped with a wink, the words delivered with a calculated smoothness. The room momentarily hung in a charged silence before the verbal sparring resumed, adding another layer to the complex interplay of personalities at the gala.

With Vox's comment about Alastor being outdated sinking in, the radio demon responded with a sly grin, sharp teeth on display, his eyes displays dials, as the rooms lights began to deepen, "Ah, Vox, your television endeavors are impressive, but remember, I'm not just audible; I'm unforgettable. A little screen time won't change that," he retorted, “This face was made for radio.” He said with a grin, tilting his head to the side, a sharp snap in his neck, his words carrying a mix of amusement and confidence. The verbal exchange between the two overlords added another layer to the already charged atmosphere, each comment becoming a piece in the intricate puzzle of conflicts and egos at the gala.

“See what you did grandma, now you’ve got the two of them fighting.” Velvet said, pointing a finger into Carmella’s chest. She scoffed, shoving her away.

“Don’t you dare get disrespectful on me you brat.” Carmilla said, beginning to heat up with anger.

That's when Madame stepped in, reappearing in the form of a taller shadow, casting a lengthened silhouette in the room brimming with guests. Vox, Velvet, Alastor, and Carmilla found themselves at the center of the unfolding tableau, and Zestial, seemingly composed, lingered just behind Carmilla, quietly observing the escalating drama. Carmilla's visage betrayed a hint of distress, her pointed finger lowering as she registered your reappearance. Alastor, with his trademark grin, bordered on eerie, revealing a glimpse of his gums. The unfolding scene disrupted the serene atmosphere you had meticulously aimed to maintain during the gala, presenting an unexpected challenge.

A hush fell over the room as everyone turned their gaze toward you, anticipating your reaction. However, your face remained expressionless, concealed within the depths of the large shadow you had taken form of. In mere seconds, the shadow dissipated, leaving you in a misty veil. Yet, beneath the calm exterior, a storm brewed, ready to challenge the delicate balance of the evening.

Now, here you all were, sitting in the study after Carmilla had explained the situation.

“Madame, with all due respect,” Carmilla spoke, looking down. “I truly do not believe Velvet is mature enough to be at our table tonight.” Carmilla said.

“Are you questioning my judgment?” You asked sharply, to which Carmilla stiffened quickly, shaking her head then.

”No Madame, I would never-“

“Then do not say foolish things.” You said. Sighing, you shut your eyes, feeling the weight of the situation. Tonight sensitive information would be revealed and Carmilla did have some point here. Velvet clearly could not hold her tongue.

”Vox, control your associate please, or you both will be cut from the dinner tonight.” You said finally, to which he nodded nervously.

“Of course Madame.” He said, nodding to you.

“I wasn’t finished.” You said, looking to Alastor.

“I want none of this technology talk either.” You spoke, staring at Alastor who just smiled with lidded eyes. You knew he was very much upset, but you had forbidden anyone to fight in your home, anyone but you of course. “You all will act like mature adults wether you like it or not. I am not your guardian, I should not be having this conversation with overlords who should know better.” You said, standing. ”Now, all of you, out.” You said, snapping your fingers. Quickly the shadows began to move, ushering everyone out of your study. Everyone except Carmilla. “Not you.” You said to her, Zestial nodding to you and her as he stepped out, giving you both privacy.

“Madame, I didn’t mean what I said-“ Carmilla said quickly. You waved her off, straightening yourself out.

“Nonsense Carmilla, I know you meant well.” You said with a stoic expression. You sit back down, crossing your legs and snapping your fingers to form a chair in front of your desk, ushering her to sit. “I wanted to speak to you about your weapons.” You stated. At this her eyes went wide, before dropping again.

“Oh, very well then. What would you like to know?” She asked. You grinned, before standing again.

“Well, how much would I need to give you for you to make me a personal bayonet?” You asked. She went silent for a moment, before answering.

“Nothing at all Madame.” She said, standing to look at you. “May I ask what for?” She questioned. You shook your head.

“No, just to have on display. I want a new one, the old one I have is quite out of style for me.” You replied. She just nodded, before you waved to her, sitting back down and summoning a script again. “You may go now, and please, do not argue with children.” You commented. She just smiled and nodded, leaving you to your own vices.

It was half-past eleven, five minutes till the midnight bells chime. Everyone in the lobby was beginning to get excited for the entertainment you had planned for the night. Oh, you knew you would not disappoint.

“Madame would like everyone to accompany her on a journey tonight. She has sent me to retrieve you all. She would like to formally welcome you to tonight’s entertainment.” The large shadow said, standing from the topic of the stairs. Behind it was a large portal. It stepped backwards, into the portal, and nodded for the guests to start coming through.

The custom-built coliseum stands as a testament to Madame's vision, a grand fusion of opulence and dark elegance. The circular structure boasts towering columns, but instead of conventional pillars, thick chains rise, intricately linked and serving as both ornamental decor and structural support. The arches, molded in black, curve gracefully around the circumference, evoking a Victorian Gothic aesthetic that permeates the entire venue.

Two larger-than-life statues of Madame herself flank the entrance, capturing her regal poise and adding a touch of imposing authority. The statues serve not only as decorative elements but as a representation of the gala's hostess, a constant presence overseeing the proceedings, she is always watching, all seeing, perfection.

The overall ambiance is one of grandeur and mystery, with the black molding on the arches casting shadows that play into the darker undertones. Every intricate detail, from the chains to the statues, contributes to the unique Victorian Gothic feel of the coliseum, matching Madame’s home perfectly, matching her perfectly. The venue, finally being unveiled to the guests, now welcomes them who are treated to an appetizer course, surrounded by the striking architecture and entertained within the darkly enchanting atmosphere Madame has meticulously crafted.

Numerous shadows, dark and formless, line the entrance walls, extending silent greetings to the arriving guests. Their presence adds an air of mystique and intrigue as they blend seamlessly with the Gothic architecture. As attendees make their way into the coliseum, these shadowy figures create an ethereal welcome, embodying the unique atmosphere of Madame's custom-built venue.

At a separate entrance reserved for the handpicked members of Madame's esteemed dinner table, a solitary shadow stands guard. This entrance, reserved for a select few, hints at the exclusivity and importance of those who will partake in the upcoming dinner. The shadowy sentinels serve not only as silent greeters but also as guardians of the event's secrets, casting an enigmatic allure over the gala.

A singular shadows escorts Charlotte, Alastor, and the rest of the overlords to the exclusive section, leading them to an elevator to bring them to the best seats in the coliseum. The elevator’s interior is a striking display of elegance, with white and black checkered flooring lending a timeless touch. The walls, enveloped in darkness, exude an air of mystery, while black, smokey glass engravings on the ceiling add intricate detailing that dances in the ambient light. Each number on the elevator, indicating the ascending levels, glows a vibrant red, creating a vivid contrast against the monochrome palette.

“Oh I’m so excited! What do you think we’re gonna see? Gladiators? Sinners fight? Oh actually I hope not, I don’t want people to die.” Charlotte said to Alastor. Carmilla just chuckled at her antics while Zestial eyed her with curiosity. Where did Alastor find such a girl and why the princess of all people?

The elevator stops at the top floor, revealing the opening in the middle, which was surprisingly covered with water.

“What is Madame playing at?” Carmilla questioned as the overlords sat in a row at the top. From there they could see everything and everyone.

“I am quite uncertain, yet my anticipation is stirred nonetheless.” Zestial said. The lights around began to dim, and shadows began to pour glasses of water in front of all the guests. Down in the middle of the coliseum was the tallest shadow, the one that seemed to be Madame’s favorite, since it always spoke for her.

“Greetings all. It is Madame’s pleasure to invite you all to the special entertainment tonight. Madame has put together some of hell’s finest performers for your entertainment tonight. I would like to present, preforming here tonight, The Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra preforming Ludwig van Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 61.” The shadow said with a bow, before it vanished just as quick as it came. Then, other shadows appeared, but this time they were different. They were people, performers, with clear outlined silhouettes, faces and expressions, even clothes.

“Hey, Al?” Charlotte asked, leaning over in her seat to Alastor. He let out a ‘hm?’ In response.

“Does Madame own those souls down there?” Charlotte whispered, but before Alastor could answer, a shadow had already cut in.

“Yes. All the shadows here, even yours, Madame owns.” The shadow said quietly, filling Charlotte’s glass cup with water. Charlotte nervously, perked up, but said nothing as she shadow carried on with it’s catering.

The ethereal notes of the music filled the air as the performance unfolded. Around the musicians stood ballet dancers, their movements a delicate poetry in motion. Clad in all black, the performers created a stark contrast to the dancers, who emerged with an otherworldly grace akin to figures rising from the depths of water. The dancers moved with an angelic fluidity, their forms intertwining seamlessly with the haunting melody, creating a mesmerizing tableau that captivated the audience. The visual symphony of black-clad musicians and the whisky-hued ballet dancers painted a scene of enchantment and mystery within the grand coliseum. Even down to the dancers, this had Madame written all over it.

Velvet's keen eye captured the essence of the dancers' ethereal movements on paper. With each stroke of her sketch, she depicted the dancers as if emerging from a watery abyss, the fog enveloping their feet creating an illusion of water flowing upward. The intricate details on her sketch paper brought to life the dancers' graceful forms, their figures seemingly intertwined with the rising mist, evoking the enchantment of a waterspout captured in a moment of sublime artistry. Velvet's artistic interpretation added a layer of depth to the performance, transforming the ephemeral dance into a tangible and captivating visual narrative.

Water had begun to swirl, the dancers moving around it, the water getting taller and taller, similar to the way it had when you had first made your entrance at the beginning of the Gala. Now, it was water, and from Charlotte’s seat, she had struggled to make out what was going on. She turned to Alastor to see him holding a pair of opera glasses in his hand. Without you having to ask, he tapped the armrest of her seat. Charlotte turned to the side to see a pair tucked neatly against the front of the armrest. She grabbed them quickly, before looking through them and at the waterspout now forming in the middle. Her jaw flew open, as well as the loud screech of Alastor’s track playing. Vox had short circuited, and Carmilla gasped loudly. Velvet stood silent, but there was evident confusion on her face, while Zestial sunk into his seat, conflicting emotions flowing through him.

“Madame- she’s-“ Charlotte stuttered, and Alastor nodded, swallowing thickly.

“With an exorcist. I know.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin vaggie #hazbin demon #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel rosie #alastor #zestial hazbin hotel #yandere alastor x reader #yandere alastor #yandere vox #yandere vox x reader #hellaverse #isuckatwritingsobenice infernal shadows #isuckatwritingsobenice

[mybunnyparadenme]

demonkodomo replied to your post “Graphic design is NOT my passion and all I have is...”B2?

Here you are! This is one of my favorite versions of Bunny to think about hehe...(ahem, I might or might not have an unrelated longfic idea if anyone wants to hear about it~)

--

B2 - Professor Chaos/Princess Kenny

Princess Kenny slowly circled the kneeling young man in front of her, taking in his appearance with a critical eye. His clothing was unlike anything she'd ever seen before, though the shiny silver armor protecting his vital organs reminded her of a knight's armor. The stranger's blue eyes followed her path, his head twisting to keep her in his gaze even as she circled around his back. It had taken dozens of her loyal soldiers to subdue him, and several more mages to weaken the lightning storm that he wielded in the palm of his hand. Even know, shackled and rendered immobile, she could feel the electricity in the air. It crackled as she came back to face him directly, making her shiver despite her best efforts to look unaffected.

"You certainly caused quite a show out there, handsome." She said, tucking a loose strand of hair from her face. Her fingertips tingled from the light shock caused by that brief friction, and she smiled sweetly to hide her surprise. "I can tell you're quite powerful. Tell me, who do you work for?"

"No one in particular." He said, his eyes steady on hers as he spoke. His voice was uneven, though from worry or as a side effect from all the spells used against him, she couldn't say. His fingers flexed against his bonds, but Kenny had made sure not to underestimate his powers and used chains that were enchanted to make sure escape was impossible. "I just like to cause a little chaos once in a while, that's all."

"Oh, it was more than a little I'd say." Kenny said, leaning down to tap a long nail against his chest. The metal made a low clinking sound, suggesting that it was heavy and guarded him well. No wonder it had taken so many people to take him down. "You caused a lot of damage to that village you attacked. It will take several weeks to repair, and our grand wizard hasn't quite yet found a way to get the weather back to normal. Your doing, I assume?"

He grinned, the touch of smugness in his expression sending a shiver down her spine. "Maybe. My... abilities are pretty volatile. That crummy village might never see the sun again."

She frowned, genuine frustration drawing her eyebrows together. "I'm sure you're well aware that we can't have that. Forty percent of the kingdom's food comes directly from that area. Those crops won't survive without sufficient sunlight."

"Well that's a shame." He said, flexing his fingers again. Straining against his bonds, looking for any weaknesses he could exploit. Clever boy.

"I see persuasion won't help here." She trailed her finger up over the metal and past the fabric of his shirt, over the soft, tender skin of his throat until it rested just underneath his chin. She tilted his head up, her violet eyes blazing as she demanded, "So let's make a deal. Tell me what you want."

"O-Out of these bonds, for one." He said, swallowing hard under her heavy gaze. His cheeks flushed pink, and Kenny took pride in the fact that no matter how villainous he appeared, he was still just a boy like any other. "And... and power. Lots of it."

"The first won't happen until I'm sure you're no longer a threat." She murmured, stroking her thumb just below his lower lip. "And I believe the second request will have to be conditional."

"Wh-What's the condition?" He asked, his adam's apple bobbing as he watched her smile spread like honey over her cheeks, slow and thick.

"You work for me, of course." She said, taking a step back to cross her arms over her chest. "I won't have you falling into the hands of someone else. You'll have the power of a kingdom behind you, if you swear fealty to me."

She could see the gears turning in his head as he considered her offer. "It's impossible to truly have the power of chaos at your beck and call, your highness."

Kenny let her smile twist into something more devious. "Really now? You seem to wield it just fine, considering you named yourself after it."

"True, true..." He stared down at the bonds around his wrists and let out a deep sigh. "Fine. I'll fix the village if it'll get me out of these things. I think I can work with you just fine."

She wagged finger in his face. "Ah, ah, you're trying to change the agreement there. We aren't partners here Professor Chaos, you'll work for me." 

"You caught me." He laughed, a soft thing that contradicted the sharp gleam in his eye. "Okay, I'll let you use me for now. I don't think I'll mind so much, as long as I get to cut loose once in a while."

"You will have plenty of opportunities for that, I assure you." She said, grabbing him by the wrists to pull him up to his feet. She grinned at the startled expression on his face, knowing that he hadn't been expecting such strength from her delicate frame. "Now, shall we seal the deal with a kiss?"

Chaos blushed bright red, looking almost innocent as he blinked down at her. "U-Um, okay? If that's h-how you usually do these things."

"It's not." She admitted, then titled her head up to capture his lips with her own. She smiled into the kiss as she felt him react exactly as she wanted him to, and let herself indulge in the moment by deepening it. When she pulled away, her breath was harsher than it had been a moment ago, and she tugged at his restraints, making them disappear with her magic. "Now, there's a neighboring kingdom that needs to be taught a lesson..."

#south park #sp bunny #Butters Stotch #kenny mccormick #bunny sp #my fics #south park fic #answered #this was sooooo much fun!!

[mythicamagic]

“Would you just shut up and listen to me for two goddamn seconds?!”

AN: ...yeah so I'll post part five in a few hours and THAT will be the ending to this Ex Sesshoumaru saga. Smh. I wrote too much of this. Read the other chapters - here.

----

She can't recall how it started.

It wasn't as though either of them had woken up one day and decided to pursue something. They'd become 'companions' of sorts- not quite friends, not casual acquaintances either. Kagome spoke with him while sitting on the grassy hillside, wearing full miko garb and explaining about future technologies.

Talking turned into meeting up regularly. Meetups turned into secret rendezvous.

Kagome wagered she'd been a source of intrigue for the demon lord. A window into the future. He listened with rapt attention and intelligent, sharp eyes. His questions were short and to the point- humour dark and smirking. Kagome found him endearing, in an irritatingly proud kind of way.

She learned about demon culture and his shining, unblemished heritage. How his ancestors had created magnificent weapons that could cut through stormy skies and block out the sun.

Kagome really couldn't say how it started.

He still hadn't been keen on humans, deeming them weak. A few were the exception to the rule. Kagome had figured that was enough. To be counted amongst those few meant she was 'special.'

She felt special, kissing him. Being loved by him made Kagome glow golden, radiating power and contentment. He encouraged her to train, to build up her reiki to new heights so that she might shock and amaze like no other miko before her. To go beyond the title of 'Shikon Miko.'

But centuries of bigotry didn't just 'go away' overnight, nor was it cured by love. He still thought of humans as beneath him. He loved her despite her humanity, not because of it.

In hindsight, Kagome shouldn't have been surprised by his reaction to her hypothetical question.

"If we ever have kids, do you think they'll be recognised as heirs?"

"What?"

Kagome shifted atop a pillow within his room at the Western Stronghold, setting down her book. "I'm just saying, I know your court is still pretty old school with how they feel about Hanyous. Think it'll impact our kids being able to take over the Western Lands?"

What a naive question. She'd been so wrapped up in how he made her feel- Kagome hadn't stopped to consider the possibility that he hadn't changed enough. Not enough for such a question. She'd asked hoping to be assured. That he'd comfort her with the knowledge that any children they had would be respected.

They wouldn't end up like Inuyasha. Ignored. Cast out.

Sesshoumaru had looked at her with such a perplexed, complicated expression. He spoke slowly, as though breaking the news to a child.

"A Hanyou will never rule the Western lands."

The surprise had set in- like she recognised the handle of the knife buried into her gut, but the pain hadn't registered yet. She'd questioned him, of course. His explanation wasn't any more encouraging.

"Hanyous only live a few centuries. I cannot entrust something as important as the longevity of these lands to one, nor can I guarantee they would mate a demon to extend their lifespan."

"Why don't you just say what you mean?" she uttered coldly, betrayal simmering in her blood as she stood. "You don't want one. You don't want an imperfect kid with me."

"That is not what I-"

"You don't have to say it," Kagome glared. "It's there, behind every word you just said. When were you gonna clue me in on this, huh? And what the hell is your plan?- because if you intended to keep me as a fucking mistress all this time while you play happy families with a pure-blooded bitch then-"

"No-" he snarled, terrible and thundering. Sesshoumaru got in her face, large hands curling in her hair, thumbs stroking the shells of her ears, trying to soothe. "I would not have you be Izayoi. You would be my mate. I would make you my Lady. We may have pups."

"That's very considerate of you," she sneered, flashing blunt teeth. "And where's this pure-blooded youkai kid coming from, hm? Because I sure as hell can't give you one."

Golden eyes slid away. It was as though a part of him knew, recognised that his duty would put him at odds with what they'd created together. He looked young, suddenly.

"I will create an heir with an inconsequential demoness."

"Inconsequential?" Kagome stared, hysteria bubbling up inside her. She broke away from him, his touch feeling unwanted, cold. "You'd use some poor woman just for that?"

"You are attributing human emotion to this," Sesshoumaru uttered, gaze flicking back to her. "She would be honoured by it. Her family would want for nothing-"

"Would you just shut up and listen to me for two goddamn seconds?!" Kagome burst, tears blurring her vision. "Can't you hear yourself? You'd still have to sleep with her, with a stranger. She'd carry your child for months, only to be torn away from them? Or would she live here? Would I have to see her every damn day and know- be reminded that I and my child weren't enough for you?!" her voice broke, a wave of emotion slamming her in the gut, only just registering and truly feeling the implications of her words.

His expression cracked, eyes widening, recognising he'd hurt her. Long claws unfurled.

"Kagome-"

"No! No, I'm done," Kagome backed away.

Years of sadness and mistrust loomed over their relationship suddenly, where before there had only been lazy mornings or evenings spent resting her head on his thigh, listening to long claws plucking the strings of a koto and inhaling rich, spicy scents of smoke from an ornate pipe.

"Don't talk to me. Don't even look at me," blue eyes swimming with tears glared. "Thank you for clarifying everything, Lord Sesshoumaru. I just wish you'd told me this two years ago."

He tried to touch her again- only for the miko to slap his attempt away with a crackling hiss of holy energy. Sesshoumaru was forced back, his hand steaming, narrowly avoiding being burned as Kagome backed away.

She'd never seen the look of pure, unadulterated surprise and distress contort his regal features before. But Sesshoumaru was proud. Sesshoumaru was a being carved from stone, who could not be moved by the words of a mere mortal.

He let her go.

Kagome didn't so much as grab her bag. She hitched a ride on Ah Un and made for Kaede's village. It wasn't long before she'd said her goodbyes, propelled by distress and anger into a hasty decision.

She jumped through the well, never to return.

It was a terrible, disappointing end to her feudal fairytale.

---

Rising slowly, Kagome blinked tired lids open, coming to a silent conclusion in the cold light of day. Picking up the phone, she called Natsuki and scheduled a meetup.

Promptly breaking up with him.

He didn't seem terribly shocked by the news.

"So… are you going to him after this?" He asked point-blank.

"What?"

"That silver inuyoukai I sensed on you last week. Figured you had something else going on."

Stiffness rendered her shoulders tense. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, "for making you feel that way. I'm not going to him, but I have been thinking about him."

"Heh, you've been thinking about him but not going? Sounds difficult."

"It is," she smiled, reaching over the table and squeezing his fingers. "Goodbye, Natsuki."

The way he'd eyed her hand, just for a moment- warily- as though wondering for half a second if she'd taken her pills, only strengthened Kagome's resolve.

She knew what she wanted now.

---

Dressing up that night, she wore her best things. The nicest pair of earrings, shoes, right down to her dress and underwear. She did everything to allow herself to relax, soaking in a tub with candles littered around the edge beforehand.

Glancing at her pills on the nightstand, Kagome grabbed her purse before leaving, having not taken them all day. The effects should've worn off by now. Walking down the stairs, she experimented with a light flex- pink static racing over her skin in a faint crackle.

Dark hair fanned out, soon settling about her shoulders. Kagome took a long, indrawn breath. Life flowed through her veins. Her heart pumped, alive, healthy. Too long had she soaked herself in misery and settled for any half-decent demon cock willing to tolerate her power. Her species.

No more.

Kagome headed straight for the youkai bar.

She slipped in, a known regular by now. Unlike usual though, after grabbing a drink she didn't content herself by sitting at the bar until a tall dark and handsome stranger approached her. Kagome downed it to ignite a fire in her throat, hissing quietly and setting down her glass before easing around grinding bodies on the dance floor.

Standing in the centre, with speakers booming, vibrations thrumming through her- multicoloured lights flashing overhead in the much too dark room, with sweat and youki plastering to the air like heady vapour, Kagome took a breath. Beefy hands met her waist, intending to 'dance' with her - before she let reiki flow.

Younger demons immediately backed off, spooked by the mere suggestion of power. The hands left her body as she met their gazes. If they wanted to touch her, they'd have to reach her.

Dark eyes turned to the miko, intrigued. Some started to approach, but she gradually turned the facet of her holy powers higher. Bigger, more arrogant males kept moving closer. They could match her, tame her. She was just a priestess, after all. They hadn't been anything substantial in centuries.

Kagome held her head high on the half-empty dance floor, pink energy now static and visible, racing over her body like a live wire. And still more poured into her aura, seeping out like a huge barrier. She wasn't done. Not by a long shot.

Even the bravest stopped, all demons now pressed back against far walls, snarling at her, some evacuating the bar.

Kagome's heart shuddered. Her shoulders fell. All that, and she still hadn't let everything out. Maybe she was supposed to make herself smaller. Maintain the air of an unassuming priestess by a big strong demon's side. Settle. Accept it. What had she been expecting?

Feeling foolish and a little selfish for spoiling everyone's night, Kagome stepped back with the intent of recalling her energy.

A palm met the pink barrier, a sharp sound ringing out like the crack of lightning. Youki -familiar, dominating, unique- crashed against her aura, creating a plume of sweeping mists. Through the pink haze, Sesshoumaru stepped forward.

Unlike his usual modern look, the glamour was absent this time.

Kagome's eyes widened, oxygen briefly freezing inside her lungs. His markings were on full display. Seeing him again, really seeing him, awakened a strange feeling inside her.

Kagome grit blunt teeth, refusing to soften. She allowed another wave of her reiki out, creating a blazing inferno that licked along the wooden floors and sent every other demon fleeing.

Golden eyes narrowed slightly, but Sesshoumaru kept his palm raised, long hair whipping around him.

As reiki slid through the gaps of his fingers, he took a step closer. Followed by another. Red youki buffered its natural opposite, creating sparks and wafts of charged steam. He walked around the room, slowly tightening the circle around her like a predator closing in, though not without effort.

Kagome had never felt anything like it. She'd never let so much loose before. She could even keep going, she could-

Sesshoumaru's hand closed over her wrist, eyes hazed red. He panted, face lingering close. "Enough. I can withstand you, dear one," he said in a rush, light burns dotting his cheek and forehead. "But those outside cannot. You could obliterate every demon within a 5-mile radius if you wished, but I know you do not want that."

Kagome blinked, shaken. Catching her breath suddenly, she trembled, holding onto him.

His presence stabilised something, allowing Kagome to slowly begin reeling blistering power back. Her body weakened, forehead finding his shoulder as pink power receded back inside. Wild youki died down not long after.

And that was how Kagome Higurashi was barred from the only youkai establishment in the city.

#Sesskag #Sesshoumaru x Kagome #asks

[katalyna-rose]

Kat’s Rat Shopping List

I’ve gotten a few requests for a shopping list of my rat setup (tagging @collapseofthesky because they requested this, specifically, but I’ve had a few others message me), so I thought I’d give it a try and also add a few explanations for why I do some things the way I do. As such, this is going to be a very long post and is therefore under a cut. There will be a basic shopping list without all the explanations at the very end of the post under TL;DR if you don’t care about the rest or whatever.

I had a lot of fun with this and spent way more time on it than I meant to, and might be open to doing more of this kind of thing in the future.

Cage

First up, the cage. Obviously. I’ve said it before but it’s a Double Critter Nation and a Single Critter Nation with the side panels removed and zip tied together. These are sometimes sold in pet stores (the locally owned pet store I prefer has them in stock). I bought mine online because of a really good sale, but you can sometimes get really lucky and find them for resale on Facebook Marketplace or Craigslist for super cheap. I love this cage because the whole front opens up and that makes it super accessible and easy to clean, decorate, and get to my pets wherever they may be. It’s also huge!

US minimum for rat cages is 2 cubic feet per rat, with a minimum of two rats because rats cannot be housed alone as they are extremely social animals. No, human companionship is not enough, rats need same-age, same-species companionship at all times. Please be aware, as well, that minimums are not the ideal to strive for. Whatever space you intend to dedicate to your rats, fill it! Fill it all up! And if you don’t have enough space for a large cage, don’t get rats. My setup, with the Home Depot/Lowe’s large cement mixing tubs in the bottom, is roughly 45 cubic feet of space. If we’re looking at minimums, this means I could house 22 rats! There’s no way that 22 rats could ever actually be comfortable in my setup. It would be insane, chaotic, and extremely messy. So why would 2 rats be comfortable in 4 cubic feet? They wouldn’t. More space is always better, hard stop.

Also remember that wire cages with bar spacing of no more than an inch for adult rats and no more than half an inch for small or young rats is a must. Tanks are absolutely not recommended for rats due to poor ventilation, which will cause respiratory issues and allow ammonia to build up much faster.

Bedding

This is different from nesting. Yes, it is. Bedding is the substrate used at the bottom of the cage or on shelves to catch errant droppings and urine, and is generally left where it is by the rats because they have no interest in it.

My main bedding is pine wood horse stall pellets. They are as dust free as the alternatives like shavings or paper pellets, and combine the best aspects of both those types of bedding with the ammonia-neutralizing effects of wood shavings and the compact, easy-to-clean nature of pellets. I love them. I also get them super hilariously cheap from Tractor Supply Co, so despite it being a little bit of a drive for me (about an hour round trip) the fact that it’s half the price of the next cheapest option more than makes up for it. I buy a bunch all at once and currently have a few bags left in my trunk because I didn’t have enough closet space for them. It’s great stuff. It crumbles when wet so it helps me keep track of how much and where they’re urinating, and it’s easy to spot clean those areas in between deep cleans.

When choosing a wood, if that’s the route you want to go, remember to check what is safe to use. Pine is only safe when it’s kiln-dried, since it contains fragrant oils that can cause respiratory issues in rats, mice, and hamsters. Some people will advise you to stay away from it entirely, and that’s fine, but since pine is often the cheapest option it’s not always viable. Aspen is a safe wood, but harder to find in pellet form and slightly more expensive as shavings. I use aspen shavings in my litter trays. Cedar wood is NEVER safe, no matter how it’s treated. I don’t think cedar is ever safe no matter what for any animal it’s marketed to, actually. It’ll cause respiratory distress in rats, mice, and hamsters, and guinea pigs and rabbits should never be on shavings regardless though I’m pretty sure they’ll still experience respiratory distress. The oils naturally in the wood are not safe, do not use cedar. Also make sure your bedding is as dust-free as possible, also for respiratory reasons. If you have a small animal, their respiratory system is extremely delicate, and that’s just a fact of pet ownership that you should have learned before getting a pet when you were researching how to care for it.

Since I have two shelves in my cage and they are both shallow to the point of not even having a lip (Critter Nation’s only flaw is the trays that come with the cage), I line my shelves with fleece over an appropriately sized bath mat. Fleece makes a great shelf liner, but I don’t recommend using it in the entire cage because it gets dirty really fast and most rats will chew it up, so you’ll both be changing it every other day and going through it super fast as it is destroyed. However, it makes great shelf liners, especially when very little of the shelf is actually available to the rats like in my setup, where the shelves are mostly covered in other things. Remember that fleece must always be lined with an absorbent layer underneath because the fleece itself allows liquid to pass right through it. That’s the point: the fleece stays relatively clean and dry while the absorbent layer takes all the gross stuff away. Towels are generally not recommended for this because rats can get their nails stuck in the fabric and rip them out, which is painful and distressing for the rat and also you. Anything super absorbent with a really tight weave will do lovely here, hence the low pile bath mats I use. I get them for one or two dollars at Ikea and wash them every week. I keep several around to rotate through. The fleece I use is also a fleece blanket from Ikea for a couple bucks that I cut into four sections because that rendered it the perfect size to tuck around the shelves. This makes my bedding extremely cheap, and that makes me happy because I can spend that money on enrichment instead.

Nesting

This is the material that the rats like to push around, dig in, and sleep in. It’s important to provide soft but preferably absorbent materials for the rats to nest in because it’s enriching, comfortable, and helps them regulate body temperature. Multiple types of nesting are recommended for enrichment purposes. Rats like texture! I use unscented, unlotioned tissues as a main nesting material for within their hides because they’re cheap, safe, absorbent, and soft. I bought 30 boxes of 100 tissues each for super cheap online, but you can also buy dollar store tissues or whatever you have access to. Just make sure they don’t have scents or lotions, because those are not safe for your rats’ delicate respiratory systems. The empty boxes (plastic removed) can also be given for the rats to chew up and play in, or you can save them up to DIY some fun toys later, which is what I’m doing.

I also have two dig boxes, which will also go under the enrichment section. The bins I got for cheap from Target, but obviously you can get bins wherever you want to get bins. Just measure to make sure they fit in your cage properly. The only dig box I want to talk about in this section is the hay box, because the dirt is not actually a nesting material but rather an enriching one. So, hay. My girls love this stuff so much that they drag it all over the cage to shove it into all their sleeping areas. They build actual rat nests in the box, tunnel through it, stash food in it, shred it for fun, and generally spend as much time as possible with the hay. I use oat hay for the seed heads that provide additional enrichment and snacks because the rats have to get to the seeds in order to eat them. If you are feeding a low-quality diet to your rats, do not use oat hay because they’ll fill up on seeds instead of eating their nutritionally-balanced food and that is not good. My rats love their food so much that the seeds are a sometimes snack that I don’t need to regulate because they do it themselves. Any good quality hay will do for a hay box, however, and timothy hay tends to be the cheapest option. Just make sure it’s not super low quality, because low quality hay tends to be dusty. As mentioned previously several times, rats have delicate respiratory systems and dust is bad for them. I buy my hay from Small Pet Select because I like supporting small business, ethical business, and businesses that provide excellent products. They are, however, primarily a rabbit site. I keep hoping they’ll expand the other sections of their shop. Also, make sure your rats aren’t trying to eat the hay. This is highly unlikely because rats are smart and know what’s edible and what isn’t, and hay is not edible for rats. If for some reason your rats are eating hay, do not give them a hay box.

Other nesting options I’ve used in the past include cut up bits of fleece, cut up old clothes you might have lying around, and generally just bits of fabric. Just remember to change out/wash them regularly. Ammonia will build up, and once again that’s bad for your rats’ respiratory systems.

Hides and Hammocks

Rats are prey animals. Surprise! As such, they need plenty of places to hide and feel safe. Rats love small, dark places to rest in. Much like many introverted humans, myself included! Make sure to include plenty of hides all over the cage. Variety is excellent here for enrichment reasons. My rats absolutely love Space Pods! Lixit makes the ones I use, but there’s also a brand called Sputnik that’s basically the same thing. I’ve never seen them in stores, but they’re all over the internet. For rats, make sure you get the large size. Honestly I wish it was larger than it is, but oh well. The girls love it anyway. I kept getting sent only the bottom halves, which is why I have two half space pods in my cage. I got a refund or replacement on both because it’s not what I paid for, but, like… I received the usable half, so I’m gonna use it. The girls don’t like to sleep in them without the covers, but they’ll hang out in there and clean themselves, and they climb through them to get from one spot to another.

In addition to the space pods, I also have various other hides. Lixit also makes a pill-shaped plastic hide that I keep on the shelf over the dirt box. They used to use it a lot more than they do now, and I’m not entirely sure why. Even so, they still use it! I also have a woven grass tent that they enjoy, and a cork log. Neither of those are really for sleeping, but they do hide in them sometimes and generally like to hang out there.

Hammocks are great, and also available in wide variety all over the internet and in stores. My favorite banana hammock was just retired, but I intend to get another. The girls loved it and so did I! Hammocks come in all sorts of shapes and sizes, and can pull double duty as both a place to sleep and a way to break up the cage so there aren’t any dead drops where your rats can fall from a height and hurt themselves. Fill your cage with hammocks! All the hammocks! Support small creators by buying homemade hammocks! Learn to make them yourself! They’re cheap and easy! Hammocks are great.

Enrichment Part 1: Levels

Rats are climbers. Rats need vertical space as well as horizontal space. Rats are sometimes clumsy idiots who fall off of things. As such, all vertical space must be filled with all kinds of fall breakers. As mentioned before, hammocks are great for this. So are ladders, bridges, ropes, and that Ikea tie hanger I have strung across the back of my cage. If your rat falls from anywhere in the cage, make sure there’s something to catch them!

Also make sure there’s something to do on all the levels of the cage, even if that thing to do is just get from one level to the next. Rats are dexterous and adventurous. Ramps are boring because they’re easy. If you have sick or injured rats, absolutely use ramps! Accessibility matters! If your rats are of sound body, however, make them work for it. Lava ledges and bird perches make great alternatives to ramps. Screw them into the cage walls and watch your rats hop around! They love it. Ladders are also fun, especially if they’re not used the way ladders are meant to be used. Suspend them from things, put them at weird angles, just make sure they’re secure. I get a lot of my levels from the bird aisle at the pet store (or virtual pet store). Be aware that sometimes your rats are going to prefer to climb directly on the bars of the cage. That’s normal! The bars are there, so the rats will climb them. That’s all there is to it!

Climbing frames like the wooden wine rack from Ikea that I have in the bottom of my cage are also good to have. My girls love it, and it does double duty as a chew toy.

Enrichment Part 2: Chewing

Contrary to popular belief and old science, rats do not actually require chews to keep their teeth trimmed. Rats trim their own teeth by bruxing, or grinding their teeth together. This does not, however, negate the need for chews. Rats like to chew! What your rat likes to chew best is entirely subjective. Some rats love wood and sticks, some rats will always chew fabric over anything else, some rats will never chew fabric. Every rat is different! Try as much variety as you can and keep stocked up on the things your rats like best. My rats really like woven grass, and I try to keep at least a couple different kinds around for them. I keep a grass mat on a shelf that they like to pull apart, and the woven grass tent will likely have a short lifespan, as well. There’s a woven grass tunnel thing that they’ve put into the dirt box and are slowly but systematically shredding. My girls also like willow sticks, so I’ve got a couple hanging toys of willow that are very slowly being chewed because there’s so much else to chew. The wooden bridges see a fair bit of chewing, and even the lava ledges get chewed on the edges. My girls also love destroying rattan and wicker balls. I bought a bunch of them for cheap and toss a new one in there about every week or so. They love them. I also got a couple things from Small Pet Select like a pine cone, a bit of natural loofah, and a dried okra pod. So far the okra pod has seen the most action and is shredded halfway to infinity. I think they like that it has seeds inside, but the others get chewed sometimes, too. There’s enough variety in my setup that everything lasts a decently long time. Except the rattan balls.

Enrichment Part 3: Digging

As much as rats like to climb, they also like to dig. That’s why it’s highly recommended to have a dig box. Safe substrate is important here. If you’re going with potting soil, make sure it’s just dirt and doesn’t contain any fertilizer. Personally, I found potting soil to be kind of annoying a little expensive. I prefer coconut soil. I use Exo Terra terrarium soil, which is sold in compacted blocks that you have to hydrate. I use two thirds of the recommended water because my rats don’t need humidity. I use three blocks per dig box, and replace the soil every month because the girls will do their business in it sometimes, leave food in it, leave bits of tissue or hay or various shredded chews. Basically, the dirt gets dirty in bad ways and needs to be replaced sometimes. It can also grow things if left too long because of the humidity (which will be a problem regardless of the type of substrate being used). So every deep clean, both dig boxes get emptied, wiped out, and refilled.

The hay box gets an honorable mention here, since it pulls double duty as both nesting and digging. Triple duty, really, since it’s also a forage toy.

Enrichment Part 4: Misc

Yeah, I didn’t know what category to put this under, so here we are. Litter boxes! No, seriously, this counts as enrichment. Training your rats, whether it’s to do tricks or just poop where you want them to, counts as enrichment. Rats are incredibly smart! They’re at least as trainable as the average dog, especially if they come from an ethical breeder who breeds for health and temperament (let me just slide a reminder not to buy live animals from pet stores that source from highly unethical breeding mills in right here; please support ethical breeders and rescues), and will happily take to any training. Remember that positive reinforcement is the only ethical way to train an animal. Treats are great for this, and your pet will love you even more because every living thing loves food. My rats actually didn’t require much training for their litter trays. Make sure that whatever you’re lining the litter trays with is not the same as their normal bedding. If you’re using aspen shavings in the main cage, use pine in the litter trays, or literally any distinct safe bedding. I use shavings in my litter trays and pellets in my main cage. This helps the rats distinguish the litter trays from the rest of the cage and makes it easier to identify where to do their business versus where not to do so. When you first put the litter trays in, just go in at least once a day and toss any poops you see into the tray. If you see your rats using the litter tray, offer a treat while they’re doing so. Rats are extremely clean animals and they like their mess contained as much as you do. It would not be possible for me to only deep clean once a month if I didn’t have litter trays that I clean out about twice a week (or more, if necessary) to get rid of the majority of the mess and smell. I’d be deep cleaning every two weeks at least without them, so the litter trays are a great investment overall. Your rats will never be perfect about using them, because they’re still rats, but they’ll help a great deal.

Also under this section are forage toys! Do not feed your rats from a simple bowl, it’s boring and encourages stashing, which means you’ll never know when they’ve actually run out of food because they’re just going to pick it up and take it somewhere else and have a great big hoard that you’ll find on deep clean day. You can definitely scatter feed, that’s enriching as well because it makes the rats go looking for their food, but forage toys are the ultimate way to feed your rats, I think. I mostly don’t get my forage toys from the small animal aisle. I do have one that’s small animal specific, a little ball that they roll around the get the food out. I also have some marketed for cats, and some marketed for birds. Having multiple kinds is really helpful. I’ve also noticed that while some stashing still occurs, it’s greatly reduced. I refill the toys as they empty and everyone’s happy.

Food/Water

What you feed your rats is extremely important, obviously. Many commercially available pellet foods marketed for rats are actually extremely not good for rats. The same is true cat and dog food. It is a sad fact that the companies that make these foods tend to be far more interested in their bottom line than the health of your pet. As such, do your research! Always do your research! Know what’s in the food and what your animal should be eating, and try to match those two things up as closely as possible. In the UK rat owners typically will avoid pellet foods and prefer homemade mixes for these reasons, but making your own mix is not always feasible and can be tricky if you don’t know what you’re doing. Most US rat owners tend toward pellets because it’s a lot harder to mess up the balance of nutrients when it’s done for you. Also, the UK does not have Oxbow, which is one of the most popular brands of healthy rat food. It’s the brand that I use, and my rats adore it. Mazuri is another popular and healthy option, but my rats prefer Oxbow over anything else. I kind of want to try making my own mix at some point, but I’m not sure I ever will. Like with most of my rat supplies, I buy food in bulk because it’s cheaper. A 20 lb bag of Oxbow Essentials Adult Rat food runs me about 40 bucks. Be careful to buy adult rat food, even for baby rats, because any food that says Young Rat and Mouse is not going to have the appropriate balance of fat and protein even for young rats. Adult food will do just fine for babies, too. If you want to add some extra protein to their diet, try a boiled egg or bits of meat every now and then, but it’s probably not necessary as long as they’re getting enough food and some extra fruits and veggies now and then. If you want to try making a mix, do so much research before you try it, and make sure your ingredients are good quality.

Rats should also receive other foods in addition to their pellet or main food. Rats are omnivores and love fresh veggies, fruits, milk, eggs, and meat! Make sure you research safe foods before giving them to your rats, as not everything is safe. If you adopt your rats from an ethical breeder, they should have resources available to you on what’s safe and healthy. If you rescue, you can still reach out to established ethical breeders for tips and tricks, or find lists online as you do your research. Some veggies are only safe cooked, some parts of certain plants are unsafe while others are safe, and some foods are only safe for males or females but not the other sex (citrus and mango are the ones I remember that fall into that category). Just do your research and try to keep processed foods away from your rats. Sodium is also not good for them. Any raw meat or fish should be frozen and then thawed before being fed to your rats to kill any potential contaminants. Like always, do your research first!

Rats obviously require water, as well. Water bottles tend to be the most widely accepted way to give rats water, because they don’t evaporate and are easy to keep clean. I, however, have a terrible time with bottles, and they always leak or break. Thus, I have opted for water bowls instead. The girls love them more than the bottles I’ve used in the past, and they’re a little more enriching, as well. The only downside is that I have to wash them out daily. But since I spot clean daily anyway, I don’t mind at all.

First Aid Kit

Any responsible pet owner should always keep a first aid kit around, no matter what kind of pet they have. Pet owners who have particularly vulnerable pets should especially be careful to make sure they have a well-stocked first aid kit. This should include single-use sterile syringes without needles, gauze pads, vet wrap, infant/toddler ibuprofen or acetaminophen, medical tape, cat nail trimmers, and probiotic powder like Benebac. But most importantly, it should include the phone number and location of a vet that will see and treat rats. Have a vet picked out that you have confirmed will see and treat your pets BEFORE getting pets. If an emergency arises and you’re suddenly scrambling for a vet last second, not only do you waste precious time getting your pet the help they need but you may find out too late that the nearest rat-friendly vet is too far away. That means your pet will suffer unnecessarily and you are an irresponsible pet owner. Hard stop. If there is no vet within reach that will see rats, do not get rats. Rats will require a vet trip at least once in their lives, since all rats are extremely prone to respiratory illness. Sometimes this happens for no reason at all, because all rats possess a bacteria in their respiratory systems called mycoplasma. There’s no way to get rid of it and nothing you can do about it except make sure your rats live in a clean, well-ventilated environment with safe bedding and materials. Even with all this, sometimes your rats will get sick. That’s normal! Just make sure you can take care of them when it happens. As such, make sure you have a vet fund at all times of at least a couple hundred dollars, in addition to a well-stocked first aid kit and the name and location of an appropriate vet.

It’s also beneficial and enriching to syringe train your rats. What this means is putting a liquid treat like baby food, yogurt, or apple sauce into a syringe and giving it to your rats. This teaches the rats that the syringe is a good thing so that if you ever need to give them medicine from the syringe (rat medicine tends to be oral and dissolved in a liquid solution, so those needle-less syringes will be necessary) they’re more likely to take the medicine with minimum complaints.

Storage

Maybe it goes without saying, but you also need places to put all of the things for your rats. Keep your first aid kit in a box to itself so you always know where it is, and organize your supplies appropriately. I really like Ikea bins for my bedding and food and other dry bulk items, and I keep a lot of my smaller stuff on a shelf at the foot of my bed. Work with the space you have, and plan appropriately.

And thus concludes this extremely long explanation of the bare basics of healthy rat living. Really, this is the bare basics and not even remotely comprehensive of the options available. Be creative when shopping, and definitely look outside of the small animal aisle at your local pet store because it will not contain anywhere near all of what you need.

TL;DR: A Basic Shopping List of My Specific Setup

-Double Critter Nation

-Single Critter Nation

-Zip ties

-2 Large sized cement mixing tubs from Home Depot/Lowe’s

-Pine wood horse stall pellets

-Low pile bath mats, enough to rotate while washing

-Fleece blanket, cut in quarters to fit shelves, enough to rotate while washing

-Bins to hold digging substrate

-Oat hay from Small Pet Select or Oxbow

-Exo Terra coconut fiber terrarium soil

-Lixit Critter Space Pods, large

-Lixit Small Animal Hideout

-Woven grass mat

-Woven grass tent

-Woven grass tube

-Rattan/wicker balls, lots

-Willow stick hanging toys

-Natural loofah

-Sanitized (and therefore safe) pine cone

-Dried okra pod

-Dog ropes

-Wooden bendy bridges

-C-clips, both the kind meant for shower curtains and smaller ones marketed for kids, for hanging things

-Hammocks. All the hammocks. From everywhere hammocks are sold.

-3 (sometimes 4) Ware Scatterless Lock-n-Litter Small Animal Litter Pan, Regular

-Ikea tie hanger

-Ikea wine rack

-Ikea storage bins

-Forage toys

-Oxbow Essentials Adult Rat food

-Ceramic (and therefore tip-proof) water bowls, and/or bowls that can be attached to the cage

-Sterile single-use syringes without needles

-Gauze

-Vet wrap

-Medical tape

-Infant/toddler ibuprofen/acetaminophen

-Cat nail trimmer

-Probiotic powder like Benebac

-The phone number and location of a rat-friendly vet

-A vet fund of at least a couple hundred dollars

A final note before the end: Always remember to do your research before getting pets, do not get pets if you cannot provide a good life for them with MORE THAN the bare minimum requirements for safe and healthy pets, do not buy live animals from pet stores unless it’s part of a rescue program, don’t take the word of just one person as law, don’t be afraid to ask questions respectfully, and always seek new ways to improve your pet care. This has been a PSA from your friendly small animal enthusiast.

#fancy rats #pet rats #my rat setup #rat care #rat care advice #pet care #long post

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

Free Fallin’

“Can we, uh. Drive?”

Cas turns to Dean Winchester, amused, yet not entirely surprised. The hunter’s standing in the doorway, the line of his lips slant. But he’s got his eyebrows raised in a pleading stance, his posture as unsettled as pinkening, flustered cheeks. He is, in spite of the hesitation, to the core of his being, endearing to Cas.

But Cas rallies to stay serious. There’s a chance Dean needs that right now. “If you’d really rather. Of course.”

If you really want to avoid this. 

Dean seems uncomfortable, still, though Cas just gave him an out. Cas can feel the restlessness in his guilty stare. 

It hadn’t been long since Castiel got his wings back. And this was the first chance he was going to have, post completely healing, to fly - trial runs (flights?) didn’t really count, because they didn’t have any destinations, and he’s actually been looking forward to flying with someone, because it’s been a bit of an eternity since he’s done it. Been of use, like that. So ever since the case popped up on their radar, courtesy of a small-scale hunter in Maine, who acceded to keep them updated, he’s been waiting. 

It’s too far away to drive, if urgency strikes. They’d have to fly. Especially now that they could.

(Sam set off for Texas with Jack six days ago - a newspaper article leading them to cremated ghosts with elite, mysterious family members, and a whole lot of them. It’s fairly tame, as far as salt-and-burns go, and Castiel trusts both Sam’s intelligence, and commitment to keeping Jack safe, enough to not have decided to follow, three days in.

Which means it’s just Dean and him.)

Cas knows he’s never been more enthusiastic on a personal level about the discovery of a vampire’s nest. And he doesn’t pin it to a hunter’s heart dripping gamelust - because he’s aware that the idea of flying across the country with Dean Winchester, after so long, is significantly more appealing than the intricacies of pretending, and ridiculous badges, when they get there. 

So alright, Cas’s been waiting for this. Packing, planning and leaving. With Dean, and Dean’s familiar duffel, and his wings - it’s been an exciting thought. No matter how little time it’d take, and no matter how many times he’s flown around the vast Milky Way in the entirety of his life as an angel - this had felt like something monumental for Cas to suggest, and for Dean to agree to, through a mouthful of dinner, and several thoughtful nods. It had felt like something special.

But now, if Dean’s in enough discomfort to come out and audibly hint at it, it’s harder for him than he let Castiel believe - in the past, or even the night before yesterday. Cas knows he’d never impose on Dean. Or reinforce the multiple, exceedingly valid arguments he hadn’t had to use the first time, in favor of flying versus driving. Dean has the right to retract his agreement, his consent at any moment, and Cas instantly resolves to not let it show that this had meant something, because Dean would end up shouldering all the guilt Cas had no resolve to create, and absorbing it to the deepest crevices of his mind, to let himself fester in it.

Cas stays impassive. Ever proficient at dormancy. 

Still, Dean picks up on it. Guarded walls come up to shelter something akin to fear. “You wanted this.” It borders on inflammatory. A tinge of accusation, but it doesn’t feel pointed at Cas. 

“I did.”

“I’m sorry, Cas.” Dean grimaces, entering the room with a streeled step. It’s as if Cas’s earnestness knocked a few layers off his shield - and reduced the distance between them, literally and metaphorically. Truly, honesty is the strongest axe Cas swings at Dean’s unhealthy defenses, with.

“Dean, you needn’t be.” Cas assures him, and he means it, although the disappointment within him is giving way to a sullen sense of despondency he doesn’t wish to indulge in, so he deflects by concentrating on Dean instead. 

Dean shifts, raises his eyes from the floor to meet Cas’s, and they linger in a stare of depthless confessions. 

It’s unlike them.

So when Cas tries to render a small smile, because it felt like the silence needed to be reacted to - needed one of them to pull off, there’s no way for him to know that it’ll push them over the edge. Dean wrenches away from him, and Cas sees the strings holding him stoic, snap.

“Sonuvabitch, Cas -”

Dean storms up to him, glaring. He’s angry, it almost radiates off of him - just not, per se, at Cas. 

“- we’ve all come such a fucking long way!” He growls, and Cas meets his stare uncertainly, thrown off. This is unpredictable, to say the least. Dean’s positively glowering at him - except it’s through him, like he’s been hollowed out. “We saved the goddamn world, man. Died a combined total of a hell of a lot! Sam’s gone from being an angry teenager to a kickass, new-age Bobby Singer. Dammit Cas, we lost your wings and got them back.”

We lost your wings.

Cas nods, faintly. He still isn’t sure where Dean’s going with this. 

“Back then? You would’ve put two angelic fingers on my forehead, and zapped me the fuck to India, or something.” Dean grits out, edging towards his worst temper. Cas can hear him trying to restrain himself. “But now, you won’t - now, you listen, and you try - because you’ve grown, Cas. You’ve become family, and I -”

Cas doesn’t think about the fact that if Dean isn’t angry at him, there’s no reason to be yelling. Instead, he thinks about the rare haziness in intense, green eyes, and the pain in his crushed voice.

“And I haven’t fucking changed.” Dean ends abruptly, inflicting a scornful glare at the floor, and -

Oh. 

“Dean,” is all Cas says, because he isn't sure Dean’s done yet. They’ve always jumped to conclusions, and realized they were wrong later, but Cas really doesn’t want to interrupt right now. 

“Ten years, we’ve known each other.” Dean looks up again. There’s too much in his eyes. “Forty years, I’ve been hunting. And I’m still the goddamn same, Cas. Angry, pissed-off, worthless. The hits just keep on coming, and all I do is bury myself in the losses, and then Sam or you screws my head on straight and we pull a miracle out of our asses, but end of the day, I’m this fucked-up, hurting piece of shit, and -”

Emotions shine at the corner of Dean’s eyes; years of keeping it all down, finally overcome. With the surfacing ruinness, Dean lets out a strained sound, and lets his head fall. Chin buried in his chest, at last, he forces out. 

“- and I’m still too afraid of flying.”

“Dean.” Cas loses what remained of his reticence, and if Dean has more to say, he can say it with Cas close, hovering near with his hands featherlight along Dean’s arms, wanting to comfort, but not knowing how. Cas wants to be there - but he’s never gotten a chance before. He has no idea how. “Dean, look at me. Please. It’s not like that, Dean, you’re not those things - Dean, you’re one of the best men I know, just, please -”

Cas knows he isn’t doing the most articulate, or efficient job of reassuring the volatile, shaking hunter - almost - in his arms. None of it seems to seep through, however hard he tries. It’s years of repression. Like the other shoe dropping, the facade of being okay just crumbled - and it’d been the most convincing one yet, one Dean’s been hiding under since God was sent away. 

Instead of listening to Cas, Dean’s lost in his head. He scrubs his face with his hands, and then fists them in his hair, screwing his eyes shut. It hurts Cas to be so helpless right now - because no words seem to make a difference.

“I’m scared of it, Cas.” Dean repeats, voice breaking mid-sentence, and the heels of his palms pressed to his eyes.

Cas looks at him, terrified. He wishes he could hug Dean - wrap himself around him in a tight embrace, and not let go until Dean stops shaking, because right now, he’s trembling, but Cas has no idea if he’s allowed to do that. Dean is - well, from what Cas interprets of the situation, he’s having a panic attack, and Cas doesn’t want to cross boundaries. 

Cas just wants to brush off Dean’s tears, which have never been there before, and run his hands through his hair, and caress his temple, and he wants to soothe Dean’s knuckles with his thumbs, and he wants to tell Dean how wonderful he is, again and again until he believes Cas, and then calmly, he wants to take Dean’s hands, and -

That’s probably exactly what Castiel needs to do. 

Dean’s too out of it to register Cas gently plucking Dean’s hands from his face, freeing his hair of their assault - or maybe, he just can’t comprehend Cas holding his hand so tenderly, like it’s some kind of a precious thing, and Cas’s hands curl around his fingers, pushing Dean’s palm against his. 

Dean’s hands are colder than his, so Cas squeezes till Dean’s feel warm, and he looks at Dean as he does it, and Dean’s noticed now, and he’s staring at their hands, held between their chests, and he’s looking such awe - this delicate, beautiful wonder which makes Cas demand from himself why he hasn’t done this before. 

Somehow, as the seconds pass, Dean quietens. 

And as Cas holds on - simply holds on, running the pads of his thumbs on Dean’s skin, Dean’s chest stops heaving. He still looks dazed, and is breathing heavy, when Cas moves insufficiently closer, swaying into Dean’s space. 

“Will you let me try again?” Cas asks, in the same voice he’d have asked, do you trust me, and Dean understands it. 

He keeps looking at their hands. 

“Will you let me take you flying?” Cas says. “And we can hold hands, or if you’ll let me, I can hold you, and I promise it’ll be alright.”

There’s nothing, for a while. 

And then, Dean’s right thumb twitches, tracing the second knuckles of Cas’s fingers, and Cas feels a shadow of solace go through him, nervousness mingling with grace in his veins. 

“I’d let you take me anywhere, Cas.”

Cas feels his heart swell. Dean looks up slowly, seeking out Cas’s eyes, and Cas holds his gaze, and just like that, they’re back to saying things without any words. 

You fell from Heaven. Pulled me out of hell. We’ve been to purgatory together, so believe me, I’ll go to the corners of the world with you. 

“Maine?” Cas ventures, with growing confidence, for a smile - history assures him that Dean’ll join in, and he almost does. Only a wisp, but it’s there. 

“Yeah, but fucking hold me, okay?” Dean huffs, and it’s such a relieving sound of mild exasperation, more than a reach for normalcy, and Cas adores it. He knows Dean isn’t alright - not yet, and he doesn’t know how long it’ll take in the long run, but he knows he’ll be there for Dean. Through all of it, and on the other end. 

This is the farthest they’ve gotten, too. Dean’s hinted at these issues before, but he’s never had a breakdown in front of Cas - or anyone, and he’s never not backed off into a shell, after. This Dean is trying, and it’s wonderful. And it’d be growth, if Cas had ever looked at Dean Winchester, through the lens of an all-knowing immortal, like he’s not the most incredible being in the world, but a specimen, an experience - a phenomena to be analysed. 

Cas looks on, trying to dissect the way Dean’s eyes stay glued to his, unconsciously, and trying to read Dean through them. He can sense faith, and hope, and his resolve is renewed. 

“Well, we’d have to let go, first.” Cas points out, slow, and Dean tentatively does it first, ending up with his arms on his side again. Circling back to awkward, and adorable in his nervousness. But Cas doesn’t let him fold in, and retreat into himself, because now that he’s got Dean saying yes, and Dean asking him to, of course he’s putting his arms around him. 

Of course, he’s putting a hand on Dean’s hip - and drinking in the subtle responses of his body to Cas guiding him closer, and his other hand goes to rest on it’s eternally demarcated place on Dean’s left arm, as he looks up at Dean with all of the admiration and reverence he feels inside, trying to coax it into his eyes, and it’s not even a fraction of a millionth which makes it there, but Dean still blushes, so maybe for now, it’s enough. And then Dean’s hand grazes against Cas’s elbow carefully - because Cas hasn’t asked Dean to touch him yet, (so he doesn’t), but oh, how he wishes he would.

“How are you, Dean?” 

“I’m going to close my eyes.”

“How would you know you’re not scared if you closed your eyes?”

“How do you know I’m not going to be scared?” Dean throws back, still vulnerable, but a lot more himself. It’s a challenge, a flame disguised as a rhetoric, but Cas treats it like a question. And answers, as plainly as he can.

“Because now, you believe in me.”

It’s not a lot of words, and not the most eloquent Cas has ever been, but it conveys so much that it almost stuns Dean again. He nods, jerkily.

I’ve always believed in you.

Dean waits.

Trust is not the same as belief.

Cas decides it’s not worth this moment wasted, to stop for supplies or guns. They can circle back for them. This is it. Dean’s ready right now, and Cas wants to show him how beautiful it can be - and how with Cas, Dean never needs to fear flying.

Castiel would, and has given up his life for Dean Winchester. He’s charred, ruined, and lost his wings. Yet now, the angel shall show him how to live, on those very wings. Life is a string of poetic ironies, threaded together by choices. Love is the first pearl, and courage is the last.

“Cas.” Dean breathes out, as Cas starts to dissociate, focusing himself deep within. Dean stares openly, for Cas’s eyes are closed now, as he reaches through the realms to gather himself. “Of course, I believe in you.” Falls from his lips in an awed whisper, and the sound of his voice is still too much for the frailty of the moment.

That’s when it happens.

“I love you.” Cas lets out, because it seems far too important that Dean knows, and there’s limits to implications which can’t hold him back anymore. They’re going to fly together. 

Dean’s eyes widening is the last thing he sees, before he needs to concentrate his grace again. It feels like giving in to an old habit you’ve had to live without, more than a lover you’ve moved on from - and Dean’s hands grabbing onto him don't even register as they take off. His grand, celestial wings flap, and time hurls them out of their reality. 

Everything fades, and with the sounds, borders, and colors, so does Castiel - once again, heavenly. Everything goes away, stripping their hearts bare and momentum flickers on their skins, as ethereal, sky-like wings render the only one who remains, speechless.

Beholding the magnificence of his angel, love resonating through his ribs, Dean keeps his eyes open. 

*

It never takes too long.

Dean holds on to Cas, with arms clinging around his neck, until the end. It feels like he’s gliding - but somehow also like he’s driving hands-free in the clouds, though he’s surrounded by too much of everything for it to be the sky. He’s not terrified, but he’s overwhelmed, and he’s goddamn living- hell, he’s never lived this much in a breath, because the second he’s trying to replace the oxygen in his lungs, he finds the chasm of warped space start to dissipate. 

The ground under his boots returns, just like that.

He breathes in air - cold, real air, in the middle of a field which is certainly not Kansas, with a full-blown smile on his face which he’s not even thinking about. It still feels like he’s floating, to some imaginative part of his consciousness. It makes his heart slower, and shoulders lift, and he’s unjustifiably happy, and peaceful, and to hell with being afraid, he feels content.

Dean Winchester feels brave again. 

Maybe it’s because of Cas’s words. Maybe it’s because his arms are still fastened around him. Or maybe it’s because, Cas. He’s everything. Dean's been an idiot to have been trying to ignore the things he feels, because if he’d gotten here sooner, he could’ve had more of Cas looking at him like that, and Cas’s hands planted warmly on his sides, and Cas just smiling at him from this close. 

Now, he’s determined to make the most of the time he’s got. 

When Castiel slowly opens his eyes, looking composed again - and a little proud, definitely pleased, almost too lovely, Dean doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t wait for the voice in his head to catch up, and start second-guessing what he’s wanted to do forever. Dean just lurches forward, grabbing the trenchcoat lapels to reduce the gap, and kisses him. 

Cas responds almost right away, pushing back into the kiss, and Dean, with all of himself, and letting both arms circle Dean’s waist and shoulders, ending up impossibly close. Dean cups Cas’s face, tilting it towards himself, as he kisses him with everything he’s ever felt. There’s gratitude, and apologies, and need, and want, and then there’s the love, and that’s where he stops thinking. 

“Cas, I -” Dean pants, running out of breath. They’ve stopped kissing, and are simply paused in the moment with their foreheads leaned into a reassuring touch. Dean’s waiting to hear himself say it, and he hopes Cas is, too. “I - god, Cas - I love you too.” He takes a full breath. “I love you so much.”

And then Cas breaks into a smile, chest heaving as well, with the corners of his eyes wrinkling, and lips pulling up, and Dean gets to lean in and kiss him again, and he gets to tell Cas he loves him, and tell Cas he loves him every morning, and every time he feels like it’ll burst out of his chest if he doesn’t, and he gets to want Cas to hold him, as they fly, and -

Goddammit, he gets Cas. 

And that’s a happy ending, if Dean Winchester’s ever dreamed of one. 

#destiel #dean winchester #castiel #canon compliance #spn endgame #destiel angst #destiel fluff #flying together

[aion-rsa]

The Mandalorian Season 3 Predictions: What to Expect

https://ift.tt/3oq0JL3

This Star Wars: The Mandalorian article contains spoilers.

After eight exciting episodes of adventures all over the galaxy far, far away, The Mandalorian season 2 has come to an end. A daring rescue mission brings Mando, Bo-Katan, and the rest of their crew face to face with the evil Moff Gideon, who has worked all season to capture Grogu for nefarious purposes. What ensues is a battle to the death that includes lots of stormtroopers, killer dark troopers, and even a clash of blades. But even after that fight was over, no one could have seen the finale’s massive cameo coming.

Luke Skywalker swoops in on his trusty X-wing to save the day, just as the heroes are cornered by a platoon of dark troopers on the bridge of Gideon’s cruiser. Like a true Jedi Master, Luke easily fights his way through the Imperial combat droids, slicing his way to the bridge with his green-bladed lightsaber, putting an end to Gideon’s forces once and for all.

Stream your Star Wars favorites right here!

But Luke’s arrival on the show is bittersweet as it also means Mando’s time with Grogu has come to an end. With Luke taking Grogu away to train the little Jedi, you might be wondering where this leaves things for The Mandalorian season 3? What’s next for Mando and his friends, and when might we see Grogu next?

Here are some of the things you should expect from season 3:

The Liberation of Mandalore

It’s pretty clear by the end of season 2 where Mando, Bo-Katan, and Koska Reeves are headed next. Now that they’ve taken control of the Imperial cruiser and an arsenal of weapons, reacquired the Darksaber, and captured Gideon, the heroes seem to have everything they need to finally liberate Mandalore from the Empire.

It wouldn’t be surprising if the Mandalorian homeworld were the very first stop of season 3, as the stage seems set for a pretty large battle worthy of a season premiere. And we know Mando is along for the ride since he promised in the season 2 finale that he’d fight for Bo-Katan’s cause in exchange for her help rescuing Grogu.

In fact, Mando’s participation in the liberation of Mandalore seems mandatory at this point since he’s technically the rightful wielder of the Darksaber…

Darksaber Drama

…which makes him the new Mand’alor, the leader of the entire Mandalorian race. And as a cackling Gideon explains in the season 2 finale, the blade can only be won in battle, which means Bo-Katan will have to fight Mando for the Darksaber if she hopes to rule Mandalore once again. As reluctant as Mando is to keep the weapon, offering it to Bo-Katan several times, she can’t just take it, apparently.

These Darksaber rules of succession are a bit of a retcon since Bo-Katan first acquired the weapon when Sabine Wren awarded it to her on Star Wars Rebels. They didn’t actually fight for it, and she seemed fine with that then. But I guess Mando simply handing Bo-Katan the Darksaber isn’t quite as dramatic for a high-profile Disney+ series.

How this Darksaber drama might be resolved is anyone’s guess, but judging from the way Bo-Katan coolly stares at Mando as he holds the blade in the finale, it’s unlikely that she’ll move on from getting the weapon back. Does this mean Mando and Bo-Katan are going to become enemies in season 3?

One thing that does seem clear is that season 3 won’t see Mando ascend the throne of an entire planet. Not only does Mando have zero interest in keeping the Darksaber but the show’s structure wouldn’t really allow for this kind of story development anyway. The Mandalorian has found a lot of success by stringing together largely standalone episodes that see the protagonist hop from place to place, completing bounties and helping other characters he meets along the way. Making Mando ruler of Mandalore, and therefore stranding him on the planet for most of the season, seems like an unnecessary shift in storytelling.

Where’s Grogu?

Although The Mandalorian season 2 seemed to conclude Grogu’s story on the show, it’s unlikely Disney will bench the show’s most beloved character for very long. Even if he doesn’t appear alongside Mando throughout season 3, we could get at least one episode that continues the little Jedi’s story and shows where Luke and Grogu went after their meeting on the Imperial cruiser.

While the first few episodes of season 3 could focus on the liberation of Mandalore and the direct aftermath of Bo-Katan’s mission, the show could give Mando a reason to go searching for Grogu once again, picking up Luke’s trail and following it around the galaxy. It’s also possible that Luke could bring Grogu back to the bounty hunter if the little Jedi decided that he wanted to be with Mando instead.

More Thrawn Hints

One of the great things about The Mandalorian is the show’s ability to do quite a lot of world-building while telling an intimate story with just a few characters at the same time. While following Mando and Grogu’s adventures, we’ve learned more about the Imperial remnant, the power vaccuum left in the wake of Jabba’s death on Tatootine, the movement to take back Mandalore, Jedi lore on Tython, the state of the New Republic, and more.

“The Jedi” also gave us a big hint as to where the Disney+ Star Wars universe might be headed: the return of Grand Admiral Thrawn. We learn in arguably the show’s best episode so far that Ahsoka Tano is searching for Thrawn, and that after defeating the Magistrate, she’s one step closer to finding him.

The mere mention of Thrawn’s name likely sent fans of ’90s Star Wars novels into a frenzy, especially those who still hold dear Timothy Zahn’s Heir to the Empire, the book that introduced the Imperial villain and kicked off a new era of storytelling in the galaxy far, far away set after Return of the Jedi. Since The Mandalorian takes place during the same era as Heir to the Empire did in the no-longer-canon Legends continuity, many fans have speculated that “The Jedi” was the start of a rebooted version of the classic Thrawn saga.

Disney also recently announced two other live-action shows set in the time period of The Mandalorian, Rangers of the New Republic and Ahsoka, which will lead into a big event on Disney+. With Ahsoka’s clear ties to Thrawn and The Mandalorian establishing the Imperial remnant, the Grand Admiral’s story could continue to develop on the original Star Wars live-action series before he finally makes his arrival in Ahsoka or that big event.

Read more

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By Megan Crouse

Rangers of the New Republic

Speaking of “The Jedi,” the episode was also the jumping off point for Ahsoka’s very own live-action series, serving as a backdoor pilot that re-introduced the character for general audiences as well as teased out her motivations and future adventures. The Mandalorian season 3 could do the same for Rangers of the New Republic, an upcoming live-action series we currently no nothing about besides the fact that it takes place at the same time as Mando’s adventures and that it has a cool title.

Perhaps Mando runs into the Rangers while on another mission in the Outer Rim? One theory suggests it’ll be a new group of New Republic lawmen led by Cara Dune. We’ll just have to wait and see.

Sabine Wren?

We speculated during the final weeks of season 2 that Rebels protagonist Ezra Bridger could be the Jedi who would find Grogu in the finale. There was some evidence to support this theory. Not only had many other characters from the animated series appeared on The Mandalorian by that point but Ahsoka’s very own storyline on the show was tied to finding Thrawn, who went missing with Ezra at the end of Rebels. It made narrative sense for Ezra to appear on the show as a surprise character who would save the day.

But it wasn’t Ezra who showed up on Gideon’s cruiser to take Grogu away. And now that an Ahsoka series has been announced, it’s more likely that the character will make his debut on that show.

That doesn’t mean one of the other Rebels characters yet to appear on The Mandalorian couldn’t make her debut in season 3. We’re of course talking about Mandalorian warrior and former Rebel operative Sabine Wren, who not only has ties to Ahsoka but also to the Darksaber and Bo-Katan. She fought on Mandalore the last time Bo-Katan and her fellow Mandalorians fought to free the planet from the Imperial puppet government. It would make sense for Sabine to join this new mission to liberate Mandalore and protect the Darksaber.

Crossover Episode with Boba Fett

Disney seems very interested in creating a cohesive shared universe of live-action Star Wars series. Ahsoka really kicked off on The Mandalorian and so did The Book of Boba Fett, the series that will premiere this December ahead of season 3. And what better way to keep that shared universe going than to have crossover episodes between shows? Since Boba Fett has already appeared quite prominently on The Mandalorian, there’s no reason he couldn’t return for an episode on the original Star Wars live-action series.

Another Cobb Vanth Adventure

Timothy Olyphant’s Tatooine marshal was an overnight hit, which makes him a good candidate to become a recurring character on the show. With so much of the show taking place on the legendary desert planet already, it wouldn’t be surprising for Mando to make another stop next season to see what Cobb Vanth is up to. Maybe Freetown is in trouble again and Cobb needs Mando’s help to protect it. Or perhaps Mando recruits Cobb for his crew of gunslingers. Either way is fine as long as we get more Olyphant.

The Mandalorian season 3 goes into production this year and will air after The Book of Boba Fett.

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The post The Mandalorian Season 3 Predictions: What to Expect appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3s3WtD2

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[lokilickedme]

Part 3 of Read By Loki Laufeyson - Fifty Shades of Grey

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own (no longer available there) 

Rating:  Mature

Archive Warning:  No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:  F/M

Fandom:  Loki - Fandom, Loki (Marvel) - Fandom, The Avengers (MarvelMovies), Tom Hiddleston - Fandom

Relationship:  Loki/His Book, Ana/Christian

Character:  Loki, Loki Laufeyson, Loki (Marvel), Ana Steele, Christian Grey

Additional Tags:  Explicit Language, this book deserves its own warning tag, one that says DON'T READ ME, Explicit Sexual Content, lame and exceedingly silly descriptions of sex acts

Series:  Part 3 of Read by Loki Laufeyson

Stats:  Originally Published 2016-02-27   Words: 3386 (original version)

Part One:  The Night Manager

Part Two:  High Rise

   50 Shades of Grey, Read By Loki Laufeyson by lokilickedme 

Summary:  Loki reads 50 Shades and throws up multiple times. I would offer my apologies to E.L. James, but she doesn't deserve it. 

Notes:  See the end of the work for notes  

  This shitshow gets on the shaky road with a dedication that made the right side of my face twitch before the story even got started.  It's dedicated to "the master of my universe" and as of right this very moment I'm ready to preemptively toss it into the bathroom, not as reading material for my next luxury soak, but as a replacement for the empty roll of toilet paper that I keep forgetting to run to the store for.  Fuck me people, she didn't even capitalize "master" and ANY GOOD SUB KNOWS THAT NOT CAPITALIZING MASTER IS A MASSIVE SHOW OF DISRESPECT AND YOU DESERVE THE ASS BEATING YOU GET FOR IT - WITH ZERO AFTERCARE.  Don't ask me how I know that, but go ahead and fight me, this is a hill I’m willing to die on.  If this person is writing a book that's touted as an even remotely accurate accounting of a Dom/sub relationship, I can tell you right now, she doesn't know jack shit. 

So I've read a couple of pages and I'm already looking around for my seizure meds when I realize I don't take seizure meds.  I will after this, I might as well go ahead and call it in.  I'm to the part about Wanda the Volkswagon when my anticipatory boner not only goes away, but retracts so far up into my scrotum as a result of the most horrendous writing I've seen this side of Thor's second grade book report on Anne of Green Gables that I'm thinking I might just be female now.  I mean seriously?  This hurts.  I’m not even exaggerating, if you have a penis it’s going to draw up into your gall bladder.  If you have a vulva it’s going to need a vat of Burt’s Bees Extra Moisture Replenishing Salve and a bottle of cranberry capsules.  I’m not even female at the moment and this thing gave me a flaming UTI.

 I’m not sure Wanda, my old VW Beetle, would make the journey in time.  Oh, the Merc is a fun drive, and the miles slip away as I floor the pedal to the metal. 

People, this is a published book.  Someone got paid for this.  It got made into a movie.  I haven't even gotten to the sex yet and I'm already Google mapping monasteries within a one-hundred mile radius because I'm ready to take my vows.  No, this book hasn't made me believe in a higher power.  It has taken away my will to ever get laid again.

 The elevator whisks me with terminal velocity to the twentieth floor. 

Holy fucking shitballs people, terminal velocity by its very definition means someone is going to die.  Is this person wearing a pressurized speed suit?  Do they hand them to you at the door before you go into the elevator?  How does the building tolerate the mechanics of generating that kind of speed?  And if by some random blessing by some random god who won't be getting any thanks from me she actually survived this trip to the twentieth floor, her brains would be leaking out her asshole.  That's not the way to make a good first impression, sweetheart.  Take the fucking stairs next time.

 It’s a stunning vista, and I’m momentarily paralyzed by the view.  Wow. 

Yes, wow.  Paralysis is rarely ever momentary darling, and it does ugly things to pretty girls.  Like, rendering you a jelly-like heap on the floor because your muscles don't continue working while you're paralyzed.  Paralysis sort of means your muscles have stopped working. 

I've begun highlighting every word I come across that the author obviously doesn't know the definition to.  Fake it till you make it, right darling?  Five pages in and my yellow pen has died a violent death.

 I push open the door and stumble through, tripping over my own feet, and falling head first into the office. Double crap – me and my two left feet! 

YOU. 

HAVE. 

GOT. 

TO. 

BE. 

FUCKING. 

KIDDING. 

ME.

In what universe is this ridiculous cutesy sort of shit thought to be amusing?  The cliches are giving me hemorrhoids.  Me and my two left feet?  Not that I'm an expert on Earth terminology and phrasing, but I'm fairly certain people stopped saying shit like that around 1962.  And...I can't believe I'm being forced to say this, but - double crap??  I was already calling my brother a bilgesnipe’s vagina by the time I could crawl, I'm pretty sure the last time I said something as immature and amateurishly silly as double crap I was still in the womb and cursing in Morse Code.  I may actually have even still been a sperm in my father's left testicle.  How old is this writer?

 “Um. Actually–” I mutter.  If this guy is over thirty then I’m a monkey’s uncle.  In a daze, I place my hand in his and we shake.  As our fingers touch, I feel an odd exhilarating shiver run through me.  I withdraw my hand hastily, embarrassed.  Must be static.  I blink rapidly, my eyelids matching my heart rate. 

I'm sorry but I really don't even know where to start.  The Um. Actually- ?  Or the I'm a monkey's uncle?  Maybe it's the staccato pacing?  The elementary school sentence structure?  The fact that all but one sentence of that paragraph has the word I in it, sometimes multiple times?  She placed her hand in his and they shook - sort of like I'm shaking right now.  It's the seizures this damn travesty has provoked, honestly I should sue the author for my prescription costs.  And if that girl's eyelids matched her heart rate then I'm just envisioning one of those blinky-eyed cupie dolls strapped to a paint mixing machine.

 “I own my company.  I don’t have to answer to a board.”  He raises an eyebrow at me.  I flush. 

Yes darling, always do a courtesy flush when the stench is really vomit-inducing.  Like now.  I'm not even going to ask if this conversation is taking place in a bathroom because I can tell you honestly, the bathroom is right where it belongs.

 His voice is warm and husky like dark melted chocolate fudge caramel...or something. 

Something...like, maybe shit, perhaps?

 I shake my head to gather my wits. My heart is pounding a frantic tattoo - 

No darling, trust me, it's not.  A tattoo is something you draw on your body, there's no pounding involved unless you've done the drawing on your vagina.  And if you’re referring to the drum beat, then you should just say so because frankly this is meant to be a sex book and your readers aren’t going to be interested in Googling your sophomoric attempts at using interesting words.  And just as an aside, most humans are going to think of a Scottish marching band when you use that word in that context, and the last thing you want your readers thinking about while you’re sliding into a smut scene is men in plaid skirts blowing bagpipes.

 I am utterly thrown by the sight of him standing before me.  My memories of him did not do him justice.  He’s not merely good-looking – he’s the epitome of male beauty, breathtaking - 

Hold on a second, I wasn't aware I was in this book?  I must have been drunk.  I'm not sure that I would consent to this idiocy even if I was soused off my gourd, so I think I'm going to be filing a second lawsuit for character theft.

 - and he’s here.  Here in Clayton’s Hardware Store.  Go figure. 

Yes, go figure sweetiepie.  Everybody, even handsome people, need replacement U-joints for their toilets.  They come in handy when you're trying to flush books.

 Finally my cognitive functions are restored and reconnected with the rest of my body. 

Honey, cognitive functions aren't a part of your body, they're a part of your brain.  So unless your head fell off while you were walking around in Clayton's Hardware Store, I doubt this happened.  If it did, my condolences to Mr Clayton and the other shoppers, I know how traumatic that can be.

 And from a very tiny, underused part of my brain – 

You mean the whole thing?

 - probably located at the base of my medulla oblongata where my subconscious dwells – comes the thought: He’s here to see you. 

I just had another seizure.  It’s a sex book darling, stop trying to use seventy-five cent Merriam Webster words and settle for something along the lines of My fucking head exploded - trust me, at this point your readers will relate to that far more than to the concept of subconscious thought.  Or any thought at all.  And we all know it’s highly unlikely Miss Double Crap Wanda-driving headless-in-Clayton’s-Hardware store is capable of coming up with a term like medulla oblongata after that terminal velocity elevator ride.

 No way! I dismiss it immediately.  Why would this beautiful, powerful, urbane man want to see me?  The idea is preposterous, and I kick it out of my head.

 And now your head is completely empty, much like the author's, because that poorly constructed series of sentences was all that was rattling around in there. 

For the sake of moving this along, because I have something to say about literally every fucking sentence in this roll of rough-ass toilet paper, I'm going to skip to the first round of sex and see if anything improves.  Because that's what people do when things aren't going well, isn't it?  They have sex and see if it gets better?  And then if it doesn't, you kick them out and finish up with a fresh pack of batteries and a few minutes of Skinamax and when you wake up in the morning it'll be a whole new day, sunshine.  Because honestly, I just got to the part where her cheeks went the color of the Communist Manifesto and if I don't get to some penis and vagina action I'm going to kill myself.  Besides that, all this double crap inner monologue is starting to make my ballsack clench up. 

So alright people, I've got my lube and my right hand ready, let's get this party started shall we?

  "Does this mean you’re going to make love to me tonight, Christian?”  Holy shit.  Did I just say that? 

Well it certainly wasn't me.  Having medulla oblongata issues again, are we sweetheart?

 His mouth drops open slightly, but he recovers quickly.  “No, Anastasia it doesn’t.  Firstly, I don’t make love.  I fuck... hard." 

Finally, someone steps up.  Is that the sound of zippers headed south I hear?

 "Secondly, there’s a lot more paperwork to do, and thirdly, you don’t yet know what you’re in for.  You could still run for the hills.  Come, I want to show you my playroom.” 

Nope, my mistake.  Zippers firmly holding north.  How far is this fellow going to count?  Do people actually do that cheesy little “Firstly, secondly” speech tic all the way up to thirdly?  I usually only get to secondly before someone pops me in the mouth.  Somehow I have no trouble envisioning this obviously anal retentive Christian fellow proceeding right along to fourthly, fifthly, sixthly, seventhly...perhaps he has a numbers fetish to go along with that paperwork obsession of his.  If this is foreplay I'm leaving because math was never my strong point and I’ll be damned if I’m going to relive the hell of ninth grade just to get a two page smut scene.  If you want to have sex with me we get to firstly, I point to my zipper, and the game is on.  But he does get points for being forthright enough to come right out up front with the admission that he's such a rough fucker there have to be contracts involved.  Kudos my man.  Too bad he wrecked it by planting that playroom visual immediately after, because now all I can think about is a toybox full of Legos and a plastic xylophone.  Even I can't make anything kinky out of that.

 My mouth drops open.  Fuck hard!  Holy shit, that sounds so... hot.  But why are we looking at a playroom?  I am mystified.  “You want to play on your Xbox?” 

Yes darling, Fuck hard!  It sounds like a Bruce Willis movie, only this time he's not in an office building crawling through the ceiling or on an airplane fighting off terrorists, he's tied to a bed while Bonnie Bedelia drips hot wax on his scrotes.  It's a real shame we lost Alan Rickman, I'd give anything to see Hans Gruber standing at the foot of the bed in a leather corset intoning Yippee ki-yay, motherfucker just one more time.

As for playing on his Xbox, the Sims have a "whoo hoo" function.  That's all I'm going to say about that.

 - it feels like I’ve time-traveled back to the sixteenth century and the Spanish Inquisition.  Holy fuck. 

Ah yes, the good old days of the Inquisition.  I had quite a wonderful time during that era, it was a sado-masochistic wet dream.  And no, I wasn't an Inquisitor...I worked as a volunteer equipment tester for the Vatican.  There wasn't a steel spiked ball cage or 360-degree nipple twister that earned my seal of approval until I screamed for my mommy.  Something tells me this pansy-ass little ninny isn't going to make it past the electroshock vulva clamps before she's crying for every matriarchal figure in her family all the way back to the Charlemagne era.

 “It’s about gaining your trust and your respect, so you’ll let me exert my will over you.  I will gain a great deal of pleasure, joy even, in your submission.  The more you submit, the greater my joy – it’s a very simple equation.”  “Okay, and what do I get out of this?”  He shrugs and looks almost apologetic.  “Me,” he says simply. 

Um...no. Just no.  Unequivocally NO.  That isn't how it works, E.L. James.  Not in the slightest.  In a true Dom/sub relationship the submissive receives every bit as much as the Dominant, and there is no two ways around that.  Anything less is bullshit and whoever you're trying to force-feed this lie to should leave running and punch you in the crotch on the way out.  I sincerely hope anyone reading this nonsense is doing so on a dare and not because they want to learn about D/s dynamics, because you're obviously not going to learn anything from this book except how to be a lip-biting ningnong who doesn't do much more than chat merrily with herself inside her medulla oblongata while mentally spouting double crap! on repeat every thirty-seven seconds.  And any respect I had for this Grey fellow for being up front about his sexual preferences just went out the window, which coincidentally is where the lip-biting ningnong should be headed.  Like he said - you could still run for the hills. 

Skipping ahead...skipping ahead...my god are these idiots ever going to do it?  I'm on page 194 and so far the closest they've come to coitus is when he almost ejaculated in his pants in an apoplectic rage when she told him she was a virgin.

 “Ah,” I groan. 

Ack, I puke.

 “You smell so good,” he murmurs and closes his eyes, a look of pure pleasure on his face, and I practically convulse.  He reaches up and tugs the duvet off the bed, then pushes me gently so I fall on to the mattress. 

I'm practically convulsing too darling, but unfortunately not with pleasure.  I need more anti-seizure meds, I've already gone through the entire bottle.  I'll be starting on the Xanax next and then it’s another call to my HMO.

 I’m panting... wanting. 

I'm vomiting...heaving.

 Not taking his eyes off mine, again he runs his tongue along my instep and then his teeth.  Shit.  I groan... how can I feel this, there? 

Hold up a second - this is a man who is so persnickety he pulls the duvet off the bed before he lets her set her ass on it, but now less than a page later he's just removed her sneaker and is licking the bottom of her sweaty all-day Converse encased foot?  My capacity for suspension of disbelief is not only wavering at this point, it’s pretty much died a slow and painful death.  Which is what I feel like I’m doing.  And if a man is holding eye contact while licking the bottom of your foot, he’s either upside down or your leg is so high up in the air he could be looking up your hooch and seeing himself through your left nostril.

“How do you make yourself come?  I want to see.”  I shake my head.  “I don’t,” I mumble.

I call bullshit.  She’s twenty-one, a virgin, and has never diddled herself?  That’s about as likely as me never having had intercourse with a horse.

“Let go, baby,” he murmurs.  His teeth close around my nipple, and his thumb and finger pull hard, and I fall apart in his hands, my body convulsing and shattering into a thousand pieces.

Huh.  And here all this time I’ve been laboring under the delusion that more was required than just two short paragraphs worth of nipple play.  This girl is a physical wonder, her nipples are clitorises.  Clitori?  Clitterati?  However you say multiple clits.  I know playing with them feels nice and I’ve made more than one maiden squirm with a few well placed sucks and a pinch or two, but this girl was climaxing before he even got her out of her brassiere.  Someone get her a job at the Kinsey Institute.

Suddenly, he sits up and tugs my panties off and throws them on the floor.

I hope they didn’t land on the duvet, he went to such trouble to keep it from getting mussed.

Pulling off his boxer briefs, his erection springs free.  Holy cow...

Rather like a jack-in-the-box, I’m envisioning.  Holy cow indeed.  Twist the handle and Pop Goes The Weasel plays while you wait in panicked anticipation for that horrid little clown to burst out of the hinged metal box and scare the shit out of you.  Well, he did say playroom, didn’t he.  Oh, and boxers and briefs are two entirely different things, my dear.  The further we get into this silly little tale the more convincing my sneaking suspicion that the author has never actually met a man before.

“I’m going to fuck you now, Miss Steele” he murmurs as he positions the head of his erection at the entrance of my sex.

I’m sorry, I know I’m an adult and all but I’m giggling like a sixth grade girl that wandered into the wrong locker room at school.  And for the record, I know exactly what that sounds like because I’ve done it.  But this...this is just...holy fucking hell with twice the fire and ten times the brimstone, that sentence up there just chemically castrated me.  The head of his erection at the entrance of her sex.  I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume it means he put his cock on her pussy and we’ll call it fair and move along.

“Hard, he whispers, and he slams into me.  “Aargh!” I cry -

To quote Miss Steele, holy fuck!  His dick is so big it’s turned her into a pirate!

He speeds up.  I moan, and he pounds on, picking up speed, merciless, a relentless rhythm, and I keep up, meeting his thrusts.

Is anyone else envisioning these two jogging through the park playing bongos?  Just me?  Okay.  Oh and for future reference, because I assume this world isn’t lucky enough to escape at least three sequels to this travesty, no sentence should have as many commas as it has words unless the person speaking it is being punched in the mouth between each syllable.

Two orgasms...coming apart at the seams, like the spin cycle on a washing machine, wow.

Darling if the spin cycle on my washing machine made anything come apart at the seams I’d be at Home Depot demanding they make good on the warranty.  Which, something tells me, you should be doing with this new man of yours.

He increases the rhythm infinitesimally, and his breathing becomes more erratic.  My insides start quickening, and Christian picks up the rhythm.

I looked up infinitesimally, mainly because I’ve never actually seen it in print before and it’s such a strange looking word.  I laughed so hard my Xanax came out my nose when Google offered up this definition:  immeasurably small, exceedingly little, less than an assignable quantity.  To give it a meaning, it must usually be compared to another infinitesimal object in the same context.  Mr Grey, I do believe your tight coochied little virgin just called your dick tiny.

“You. Are. Mine.  Come for me, baby,” he growls.  His words are my undoing, tipping me over the precipice.  My body convulses around him, the precipice.  My body convulses around him, and I come, loudly calling out a garbled version of his name into the mattress.

Well damn, I have to say I’m impressed, both with the uncanny power this fellow’s voice has to make orgasms happen from out of thin air, as well as this girl’s ability to climax on demand after never having done so in her entire life previous to this encounter.  That’s three times now she’s “shattered into a million pieces” all over the fucking bed - thank god he had the presence of mind to toss the duvet on the floor, because those stains would never come out.  He’d probably be getting a visit from the local police as soon as Mrs Fratelli at the dry cleaners got a good look at it.  And I don’t know about anyone else but I really want to hear this “garbled version” of his name that she called out into the mattress.  No, really.  I want to hear it because I’m imagining something like what went down in the Caves of Caerbannog when the Knights were debating the pronunciation of the last word written on the wall.  Does that make Ana’s orgasms the sexual equivalent of the Black Beast of Argh?

I’ll wait for you to hit Google on that one.  Go ahead, I’ll wait.  I’ve got all the time in the world.  I still have six hours of studio time booked and this travesty of a novel is now residing in stall #2 in the mens room and I’m sitting here playing with the roll of toilet paper I stole.  It was a worthwhile trade.  The word Charmin printed four million times on these little squares in infinitely more intellectually stimulating than that undigested goat’s dinner we were reading.

Fifty shades of TP’ing E.L. James’s house, anyone?

End Notes:  All passages in italics are the property of E.L. James, and as far as I’m concerned she can keep them.

#Loki Reads #50 Shades of Grey

[polarisavi]

Hi! big, HUGE fan of your band au! could you write something from it? like, anything at all or you can totally ignore this message too. no problemo

hey anon! I’m not sure when i’ll make a full on sequel, but please have this scene that will be part of any sequel and has been clear in my head since writing somehow escape. it takes place before lucas’ european tour when they’re both in france. i’m not sure what you expected, but after all the pining of the last one I wanted to write them cozy and together, so i hope you like it. and sorry this took a few days! i wanted to finish up something else before writing it. 

eliott is taller than him, but not that much broader, so some of lucas’ shirts slide over his shoulders easily and sit inconspicuous on his frame. it takes a few minutes to even notice the shirt, honestly. lucas’ hair is still wet from the shower, stray water drops tickling his neck, muscles pleasantly buzzed from a morning run, and the familiar burgundy shirt is rendered largely irrelevant relative to eliott. eliott, awake but still in bed where lucas left him earlier, rolling out of bed with the small knowing thrill that, unlike other times, leaving eliott in bed is only temporary, that he will be able to roll right back into him when he returns, will not be separated by obligations that force the thread between them elastic. eliott, sleep soft and probably still warm, staring out the window and undoubtedly a thousand miles away. eliott, who, regardless of where his thoughts have taken him, has a guitar on his lap and is coaxing something beautiful out of it. 

eliott demaury, lead guitarist of award winning indie pop band intricate teacups, film student, raccoon enthusiast, and lover of virginia woolf, abstract art and lucas lallemant. 

it still feels like a trick, sometimes, like he’s stumbled into something fantastic and fun and finite, just waiting for someone to tap his shoulder and drag him away. sorry sir there’s been a mistake, this was never meant for you. except eliott has noticed him now, eyebrows flicked up in a question (most likely about why lucas is standing in the doorway, still and silent, instead of crawling into bed, or making them coffee) and an easy smile on his lips. the song morphs suddenly, between one chord and the next, into a familiar comfortable arrangement, one he used to listen to non stop. it’s a reminder, yes, an inside joke between them no one else is allowed to be let in on, but also a prompt for lucas to do something, to get into arms reach, to talk or move. lucas takes the invitation for what it is, and sings a few words quietly as he crosses the room. 

“well, i’ll run, babe, but i’ll come running, straight to you.“ 

it has the desired effect, and by the time lucas crawls over the bunched up sheets eliott is giggling, eyes gilded in delight, and the guitar categorised as secondary, shoved to the side and scooping lucas in his arms instead to take its place. lucas’ knees land on either side of his thighs and eliott’s hand lands, as it always does when they’re in this position, on the tattoo on his thigh, only a couple months old. mari had done it herself, in the end, rolling her eyes but acquiescing when he’d asked. it’d been a few years since she had worked as a tattoo artist professionally, officially, but her talent hadn’t faded an ounce, smiling and serious as she took a needle to his skin. bunches of tangled flowers, vivid petals and unexpected thorns and curled up leaves, peer through the spaces between eliott’s fingers. lucas’ arms loop around his neck, and he nudges their noses together, gently leans forward to place his forehead on eliott’s, his skin humming and breathing easy.

unbidden it reminds him of that death cab song imane adores about distance and yearning. her boyfriend, sofiane, of soft eyes and endless support and spectacular dance moves, who lucas has yet to meet, has spent the previous few years out of the country frequently, obligations in morocco that imane isn’t always able to join him in due to her own job. it’s hardly the exact same situation, but lucas understands why she listens to it a lot; he is always surprised, though perhaps he shouldn’t be, that they have so much in common. the lyrics, particularly applicable when they were apart, are somehow still relevant. most of the time any great space between them feels villainous; his skin, craving eliott’s, their hands tangled, ankles crossed, shoulders pressed close, anything. 

i need you so much closer. 

eliott leans back so they can see each other properly. “where did you go this morning? sleeping with the aircon only works if you’re there to keep me warm,” he adds with a teasing pout, thunderstorm eyes glinting in the light streaming through the window. 

lucas mirrors his pout but runs a hand across his head, fingers scratching lightly. in response eliott leans forward, head almost on lucas’ shoulder. “poor baby. i went for a run. and i was thinking we should go to the ocean today, if you want?" 

eliott huffs out a laugh, a flutter of warm air on his shoulder. "i want. i thought we were having lunch with mari, though?" 

"we still are. i was thinking later on, around sunset, maybe. i know a place, it’ll be chill. quiet.” 

"quiet as in not crowded?" 

"yeah. or, it usually isn’t.”

“perfect,” he says, the corner of his lips tilted up in the way that means he’s planning something, a secret tucked into his cheek.

speaking of, “what were you playing? i don’t think i’ve heard it before.”

“it’s new. i, uh, accidentally overhead an argument yesterday and got inspired,” he answers, sheepish but not ashamed, amusement twitching his lips. 

“lovers quarrel?”

“no, i think it they were friends. i’m mostly sure the argument was officially about gardening techniques but it sounded very…personal.”

lucas considers this. “broccoli as a metaphor?

they’re so close he can feel eliott’s chest bounce as he laughs, the sound vibrating right into his own body. “exactly, broccoli as a metaphor, and maybe snowpeas too.”

they just smile at each other for a small stretch of seconds, before somthing occurs to him. “have you eaten yet? had any coffee?” eliott shakes his head, so lucas kisses his cheek. "i’ll bring you something.”

“lucas, you don’t have to.”

“i know. i want to. and i’m hungry too, so it’s not entirely selfless. be right back." 

in the kitchen he makes a bee line to the fridge, already knowing exactly what he wants. sitting on the second shelf is a bowl of lychees, almost overflowing, gifted to him by arthur, who in turn had been given way more than any one person could ever need as payment for a piece of jewellery he’d given them. it had been a beautiful ring, the band composed of three braided strands textured like tree branches, and made out of recycled black metal. it was definitely worth the boxes of fruit and jars of honey and jam he had received in return, even if a lot of the produce had to be passed forward before it could rot. that night, a considerable portion of his payment was used for making various daiquiris and desserts, the close circle of friends he’d managed to maintain despite his restlessness cluttered into arthur’s kitchen, overly spoiling his dog with treats and attention, yelling over the video games and spanish music someone, probably mahdi or esra, had put on, the remnants of rum and cherry crumble and pavlova on every available surface. 

it’d happened a few nights before eliott arrived. he should try and organise something like it again, before he leaves. he can picture it vividly, suddenly, wisps of how eliott would fit into their group drifting across his mind like they’ve already happened. it makes his heart go terribly soft, thinking about how easily eliott fits into his life. how gently they’d bumped into each other, and how natural it felt falling into the possibility of them. if he was someone else, lucas might think the word fate, or destiny. as it is, he thinks about entropy and serendipity, the sea of chaos that put them in the same room, the deliberate choice of everything that came after. 

he returns to his room with a tray laden with a pot of coffee, two mugs, a bowl of lychees, and the portable speaker that he’d left in the living room. he places it on the bed but snatches the speaker and moves it to the desk in the corner. eliott doesn’t like any of the properly hard music lucas has in his library, so he opts for pantera, quiet enough for them to speak at normal volumes. if and when eliott gets sick of it, he will not be shy about telling lucas. until then, he sets his favourite album on repeat and focuses his attention where it should be. 

eliott has already dragged the tray close and broken open a lychee, juice glistening on his fingers. his house is high up and the view outside his window beautiful, early enough that the sky is partially bruised yellow and pink, the sunrise not yet flattened out. when he settles close to eliott, their knees bumping together, he is handed a mug of coffee.

"i like being in your city, with you here to show me all of its secrets. it’s nice seeing you so settled. comfortable.” ‘as opposed to in america’ is left unsaid. 

“you’ll have to do the same when i visit you in paris. tiny, overlooked secrets or bust, baby.” aka show me the places that are imbued with meaning and memories for you, too.

“i already have an itinerary,” eliott says solemnly. coming from anyone else lucas would presume it a joke, but with eliott he might be serious, a carefully crafted list of places they could enjoy together sitting innocently in his phone, or a notebook, a collection of neon post it notes. 

he pivots, shoulder perpendicular to the wall, to face him properly. “we’ll need to figure out when i can visit you. the semester starts in about a month, right? and then it’ll only be a handful of weeks before i have to go back to the states for rehearsal and then directly to dublin.”

eliott smooths a hand over lucas’ shoulder, down his arm, and it does settle him some, but not all, nervousness fluttering in his gut. “i know we do,” he says, low and faintly plaintive. “is it awful that i want to be selfish and, just, not think about that yet? it’s so much nicer only focusing on this day,” a kiss on lucas’ forehead, “this hour,” a kiss on the bridge of his nose, “this minute,” a kiss on his cheek, “here with you.”

he opens his mouth to say - something, but eliott holds a lychee to his lips and he bites into that instead, cold and lush. delicious and gives him time to think of a proper response.

“i think that we should talk about it soon, before you have to leave, but…yeah, okay, we can be selfish. i’d like that.”

he is reminded, once again, of entropy and choice. nothing is ordained, or destined, and any future days between them not promised by the universe. recognising his active participation feels almost startling, his mind wide awake. eliott steals his phone to turn off the music and pick up his guitar, hand big on the neck, crafting something jaunty and stumbling, fingers occasionally tripping over decisions. 

lucas breaks open another lychee.

#yes the decision to exclude basile was deliberate #boy doesn't have enough texture and fun to fit into this verse #my fic #Anonymous #Ask

[its-spelled-maille]

If you have them written out somewhere, I would absolutely LOVE to see some/all of your 3.5e HEMA homebrew rules. As a Pathfinder player who gets frustrated with the lack of realism in the combat, I would be absolutely delighted to convert them to Pathfinder and play around with them.

We/I have received multiple requests for these homebrew HEMA rules so I’m going to post them now. 

But first, a few disclaimers: Firstly, these are not meant to be an ultimate perfect realism true exactly historical combat rules, they’re meant to add an aspect of realism to D&D 3.5e’s existing melee combat rules without scaring away players who don’t care about that kind of stuff. If you want a true 100% realism tabletop experience, D&D is not the system for it. Secondly, these rules strongly benefit from a degree of realistic imagination/narration. Armor and weapons are described as being historical and believably sized, fighters hold weapons in between themselves and the enemy instead of spinning or jumping about, fighters aim around opponent’s armor rather than slicing through it or bashing it in, etc. Attacks that do not break AC are dodged, perfectly parried, or glance harmlessly off armor. It also helps if HP is thought of as not how much blood you can lose before you drop, but instead a sort of stamina counter which’s depletion indicates that a character is too exhausted and in-pain to defend themselves. Instead of slicing an opponent’s chest open for 10 damage, any attack that doesn’t drop the target below 0 HP is a light wound such as a shallow cut or a bruise caused by glancing hits, while the attack that does drop the target below 0 HP is the only direct hit landed in the fight, and results in a gaping wound, a cut artery, a crushed bone, or anything else that would render a fighter critically injured. In fact, a damaging hit doesn’t even have to draw blood. Examples: “The orc makes a downward cut at Throthgar the Fighter, and his Attack breaks AC. Throthgar the Fighter parries into Ox, but his arms are not raised high enough in time, and the orc’s blade takes the skin off his knuckles. 6 damage, bringing Throthgar to 25 HP.” “Maryan just manages to raise her shield in front of the incoming mace in time, but the force of the blow sends a shock through her arm, numbing it. 8 damage, bringing her HP to 42.” “Dhoelath‘s muscles burn and blood from a light cut on his forehead drips into his eyes, rendering him unable to move his crossguard into position in time. The imperial soldier’s blade slices cleanly through the tendon within his wrist, pouring blood onto the pair’s shoes. 3 damage, bringing Dhoelath’s HP to -1.” Oh also, give weapons and armor realistic weights. We have a post for that.

Now for the actual rules. The wording of some of these rules will assume you are already familiar with 3.5e rules. 

Weapons and Fighting: 

Arming Sword: One-handed straight sword that is longer than a Short Sword and shorter than a Longsword.2D3 damage, crit 19-20 x2. Arming Swords may be held backwards in onehand to become equivalent to a Light Pick(1D4 damage, crit x4). If the wielder crit fails while holding it this way, he or she is cut by the blade and takes 2D3 damage in addition to regular crit fail penalties. 

Bastard Sword: dReplaces Longsword for the one-handed 1D8 damage sword.

Longsword: 2D4 damage. Two-handed. Longswords may be held backwards in twohands to be equivalent to a Heavy Pick(1D6, crit x4). Same crit penalty as arming sword applies. 

Claymore: Replaces Bastard Sword as the 1D10 damage sword. Two-handed. May be held backwards in twohands to be equivalent to a Heavy Pick. Same crit penalty applies. 

Switching for normal grip to mordhau grip, or switching back, provokes Attack of Opportunity if the character is in combat. Mordhau grip is good for when your opponent’s AC is just way too high for you and your only hope is to fish for crits. 

Dedicated two-handed weapons like these take damage and Attack penalties when used in one hand, even with special training. How much of a penalty is up to the DM.

When Fighting Defensively, a characterwith any shield gets an extra +4 AC instead of +2. With the Combat ExpertiseFeat, Attack Points subtracted from Attack counts for twice as much extra AC ifthe character has any shield.

Bucklers give +1 AC but only towards oneopponent at a time.(must designate at the beginning of wielder’s turn)

When Fighting Offensively, characters take-4 to Dex AC, but cannot lose any Armor or Shield AC. They gain +2 to Attack.With the Combat Expertise Feat, points can be allotted the same way as withFighting Defensively. (This allows characters in heavy armor to just go wildly aggressive without caring about being hit, much like they could in real life.)

Curved Swords have +4 Attack againsttargets wearing Light Armor. Curved Swords have -3 Attack against targetswearing Heavy or Medium Armor.

Helmets:

Type 1: Non-facial Helmet. Any solidhelmet that doesn’t cover the wearer’s face below his or her eyes. Helmets withnose-guards and cheek-guards still count unless the guards come directly underor around the wearer’s eyes. You’d also probably have a little cap under thisone, or leather straps inside. +1 AC, +10 AC against specifically head-basedattacks, such as a mindflayer’s Brain Extraction. Wearer is immune tospecifically head-based traps, such as Falling Rocks(within reason.). Much like in reallife, there is virtually no downside to wearing a helmet like this. It’ll saveyour life.  Putting the helmet on your heador taking it off is a Move action and provokes Attack of Opportunity. Thehelmet’s AC bonus is considered active during the Attack of Opportunity,whether taking it off or putting it on. If the Attack of Opportunity hits, theaction is canceled, but your turn is not. Can be removed by a successfulDisarm, but not at the same time as a weapon.

Type 2: Full-facial Helmet. Helmets thatguard the wearer’s face to the extent that they obstruct his or her peripheralvision and may make it difficult to breathe. Same thing about the cap orleather straps built in. Even helmets that don’t cover the entire face are apart of this category, so long as there is metal under or around the eyes. +3AC, -2 Attack -10 Spot, -4 Search, -2 Listen, +1 Flanking bonus against wearer for anyone flanking them,+10 AC against specifically head-based attacks, such as a mindflayer’s BrainExtraction. Wearer is immune to specifically head-based traps, such as FallingRocks(Again, within reason.). Can be worn with a chainmaille coif; the statsjust combine. Putting the helmet on your head or taking it off is a Move actionthat provokes Attack of Opportunity. The helmet’s AC bonus is considered activeduring the Attack of Opportunity, whether taking it off or putting it on. Ifthe Attack of Opportunity hits, the action is canceled, but your turn isnot. Can be removed by a successfulDisarm, but not at the same time as a weapon.

Type 3: Visored-helmets. Any helmet with ahinged or removable visor. These helmets have a few different rules to them.

Type 3 Stats/Rules with Visor Down: +2 AC, -2Attack -10 Spot, -4 Search, +1 flanking bonus against wearer for anyone flanking them.

Type 3 Stats/Rules with Visor Up: +1 AC

General Type 3 Stats/Rules: -2 Listen +10 ACagainst specifically head-based attacks, such as a mindflayer’s BrainExtraction. Wearer is immune to specifically head-based traps, such as FallingRocks(Again, within reason.). Can be worn with a chainmaille coif; the statsjust combine. Changing the visor’s position is a safe Move action. Removing thehelmet or putting it on is two full-round actions that can provoke Attacks ofOpportunity. The visor can be destroyed by a successful Sunder, but not at thesame time as a weapon. If the visor is destroyed, it is permanently stuck inits current position until repaired.

Attacksof Opportunity:

There is NO WAY to avoid provoking AoO. Period. 

Characters with things like ImprovedGrapple or similar “Improved Whatever” feats still provoke Attacks of Opportunity when trying to Grapple or do whatever they’re doing, but unlike characters without those feats, they are allowed to continue with the maneuver even after taking damage.

Any attack with a Natural Weapon provokesAttack of Opportunity, no matter what. Like, if you punch a guy who has a sword, and he parries it with the sword, even if he doesn’t really make a swing you’re the one bleeding.

Special Attacks such as Jump Attacks,Disarms, etc. always provoke AoO no matter what.

Grappling:

Unless Pinned, a Grappled character mayattack the Grappler with a Light Weapon with an Attack disadvantage of -4. Anydamage the Grappler takes from any source during the Grapple reduces their Grapplemodifier by that much damage the next time they have to roll Grapple to keep hold of their captive.

Armor: 

Replace Leather with “Gambeson+Jack Chains” and replace Studded Leather with “Light Brigandine”. 

There’s actually a shitton of name-changes and weight alterations in the armor list but I didn’t want to list them all so those two are just the most important ones. 

I might be forgetting a few, but these are the main ones.

Comments or questions are welcome. 

- mod Sallet

[excentriqa]

dreams

hoshi x reader a/n: i need to sit my ass down and proofread before posting stuff but, please enjoy this anyway! genre: romance, fluff, all the good stuff y’feel word count: ~1.4k

“i would like to point out that i was fourteen and completely clueless, and it’s not fair of you to blame my lack of experience on my younger self,” you complain half-heartedly, feigning exasperation as you recall yet another childhood story to soonyoung with a wistful smile adorning your features. the heat’s crawling to your cheeks quick enough and you feel yourself physically retracting a little, with the heat in the room quickly turning unbearable.

soonyoung doesn’t seem to mind, though. his amused grin doesn’t falter at all but you’re honestly not sure if he’s laughing at what you felt the first time you saw him stumbling clumsily into your life, just a little older and in a hurry to shield you from being hit by the basketball that he and his friends have been playing around with, or at the fact that you’re busy recounting such seemingly meaninless tales to him now, on the morning of your first anniversary together.

“want to know a secret?” he asks innocently and you know you’re supposed to play along so you let a sigh roll off your tongue but the endearing smile on your features betrays all the other emotions tangled up inside of you. “it better be a good one, or i’m keeping you hostage in bed all day.” the threat comes out a little breathlessly but soonyoung’s only response is to press a quick kiss on the tip of your nose, apparently too caught up in the moment with you.

the room’s still too hot and the rays of sunlight that drown you two in the golden morning light doesn’t do much to help your case but you’re content and not even thinking about moving any more than you truly have to. “so what’s the big secret?” you prompt, unwilling to let him forget.

and soonyoung, with his right cheek still pressed into the pillow that easily hides half of his smile, lets his fingertips dip into the curve between your neck and shoulder, mindlessly caressing the exposed skin that still showcases most of last night’s souvenirs. you only find yourself giggling, having already gotten used to the weird antics of your boyfriend.

“the secret is,” he stops himself, smile growing a little more mischievous at the cliffhanger that has you rolling your eyes. “it’s that i’ve been in love with you since we went on that school trip to busan together.”

”didn’t that happen when we were seventeen?” you question, delicate brows furrowed and lips pursed in hopes of finding the answer for that question somewhere stored away in the depths of your own brain. “sixteen,” he corrects with a hum, oblivious to how your eyes widen a little at the sudden revelation. it’s not until you prop yourself up on one elbow and his hand drops onto the mattress once more that soonyoung raises an eyebrow of his own, obviously questioning your sudden movement. “are you getting up?”

“you’ve been in love with me since you were sixteen?” you repeat, a little too stunned you think. you’re pretty sure that you’re sporting a nice blush by now but, you don’t really mind. not after this new piece of information you’ve just gathered. “that’s ridiculous. we didn’t even speak to each other back then.”

“maybe not,” he admits before seating himself up as well, back pressing against the head of the bed, gaze still lingering on you with something so warm sparkling in his eyes that you’re rendered speechless at the sheer intensity of it all. it’s not what you’ve expected out of recalling your first meeting as kids.

you can’t, however, deny the way your heart threatens to skip more than just one beat.

“we didn’t speak but, you sat before me in class and i could always see you helping out your friends when they didn’t know what to do or when they’d forgotten something,” he explains, in a matter-of fact ton.

you find yourself huffing a little, seemingly unsatisfied. “everyone's supposed to do that for their friends. that’s called being a decent human being.”

“here’s the thing,” he interrupts, suddenly looking excited. like you are exactly where he needs you to be and you inwardly can’t help but wonder what’s going on in his mind at the moment. “you did that for everyone, not just your friends, but also the teachers, or even strangers. i clearly remember you staying behind in high school to wait for some kid’s mom after you found out that they had broken their leg earlier that week and had to wait for one of their parents to pick them up from school. you didn’t want to leave them by yourself, so you sticked around. and the day after, and after, until they recovered.”

“how does that correlate to your feelings for me?” confusion tugs at your features in a less than pretty way, you think. soonyoung’s always been much more patient than you are, yet simultaneously also a wholte lot livelier. tugging on your hand whenever you’d have doubts, carefully pushing you out of your comfort zone while making sure you always knew you could fall back into his arms if you needed to feel that safety.

it’s not unlike him to babble some nonsense in the spur of the moment but you’re certain there’s more to this story than what he’s telling you and you’re going to get it out of him, no matter how much coaxing it’ll take.

“do you remember that school trip?” he retorts, dark eyes scanning your features attentively. you feel a little unsure while you go through all of the memories in your mind but have to admit defeat soon enough. “other than you and i getting lost on the last evening when we were supposed to be at the farewell party, i don’t remember anything special happening.”

he chuckles, the sound bright and enough to fill the entire room. you’ve always been amazed at this, you think: the way that soonyoung so easily manages to settle himself into any kind of atmosphere, regardless of the people that surround him. he sells it perfectly, even though you’re distinctly aware that soonyoung isn’t always as confident as he makes it seem.

“yeah, we got lost. it was the first time we really talked to each other, remember?” he inquires, a hesitant smile spreading across his features again. you feel yourself softening at the view in front of you, the corners of your own mouth tugging upwards as a response. “i thanked you for always protecting me from any kind of injuries whenever i attended basketball practice.”

“you also told me how fond you are of sports,” he adds, the smile growing wider. you, however, feel yourself growing bashful instead, cheeks slowly turning pink once more. “i never said that!”

“oh?" he retorts playfully, his eyes melting into soft crescents. “maybe i misheard and you said how fond you are of me, instead.”

“sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

soonyoung doesn’t really say much more to that, only lets a wry grin be painted across his features before slowly leaning down to brush his lips against yours. no matter how lighthearted and quick the kiss is and in spite of the playful banter, you still find yourself yearning for more but that desire remains unspoken. instead, you only smile up at him, your heart swelling with all the love you have for the boy in front of you.

“that evening? i remember how i couldn’t get it out of my head even after we had gotten back. you were on my mind all the time from that point onwards,” he confesses quietly, the sincerity hitting you without any prior preparation. and you try, try opening your mouth once to come up with a proper response that he’s deserving of, only for it to fall shut again. “i just know i wanted to talk to you again, to get to know you better. it took me months to realize that i had already started falling for you and by then, i was already in too deep.”

if your heart could leap out of your throat, you’re sure that’s what would’ve happened in that moment. but somehow, you retain your composure and only find yourself leaning forward to capture soonyoung’s lips in a sweet kiss again. you feel him smiling at the sudden show of affection, with one of his hands quickly coming up to pull you a little closer.

when you pull away after what feels like a few seconds only, he gently presses his forehead against yours while your eyelids flutter close, your mind too occupied in soaking up all the little, meaningful details of this blissful moment.

“happy anniversary.”

and, you silently think once you hear the quietly whispered words rolling off of soonyoung’s tongue, that you’re sure you’ve never felt so loved before.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #hoshi scenarios #hoshi imagines #writing

[davidmann95]

May I please ask if the showings in JUSTICE LEAGUE 2017 have had any impact on your various Rankings? (I was rather delighted by the film - at one point I actually thought "so this is what it's like to be ten years old again" or words to that effect - especially after learning of the various, quasi-Biblical tribulations inflicted upon this particular production and nobly endured ... also, I can't keep it in any longer, Jason Momoa as Aquaman - My Brother, My Cap'n, My King - was OUTRAGEOUS!).

Not for Superman or Batman - Affleck remains a well of untapped potential, and I need to see more of Cavill. In the movie itself, it goes for me Batman (a little overcorrected and lacking a complete arc)

So with this, all the comic book movies of this year have come out, so I can finally rank those (with the exception of Wilson, which I haven’t seen):

10. Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets: When I walked out of Justice League, one of my first thoughts was “neat, a year of all good comic movies!” But then I remembered this particular turd in the punch bowl - visually breathtaking, but a dead, limp, lifeless plot with insufferable non-characters that squanders Dane DeHaan’s considerable talents, as well as what I understand was highly regarded source material. Apparently making this was one of the great dreams of Luc Besson’s life, and if we weren’t collectively on the tail end of the second in a row of what the scientific community has formally classified “hell years”, that’d be one of the saddest things I’d have heard in this one.

9. Kingsman: The Golden Circle: Without the base of Mark Millar’s respectably entertaining original comic to work on and flying free beyond the premise of “what if James Bond had trained his cocky underprivileged nephew as his successor?”, this doesn’t attempt to pull together the stitches of a message it has, nor does undoing one of the central emotional moments of the original flick amount to much of anything, but it’s a fun, well-directed time nontheless.

8. Atomic Blonde: Our other spy-fi entry, this time on the more traditional end of brooding people muttering a little too quietly too be heard properly about too many names and conflicting entities to recall, with an endgame twist that doesn’t recontextualize the movie so much as render if that much more incomprehensible. But you know what? The point is that it’s a bunch of beautiful people in lovely or seedy places (or indeed lovely seedy places) whispering conspiratorially at each other - except MacAvoy’s unhinged deep-cover agent - interspersed with murdering and fucking each other in equally lovely ways, and on that front it entirely succeeds.

7. Thor: Ragnarok: Yeah, I’ll be the bad guy on this one. I dug the hell out of it, it’s hilarious and stylish and epic, but the actual *story* it tries to build between its comedy and action setpieces feels half-formed and ill-served.

6. Wonder Woman: I’m not quite as beaming on it as I was when it came out, but it’s still by far one of DC’s best efforts, with chemistry among its colorful leads and supporting players, a real sense of moral conviction, and the standout action sequence of the year. It would be higher if not for Paradise Island itself being presented as an agonizing black hole of tired exposition that swallows the first chunk of the movie whole, with it only truly getting going once Diana and Steve leave for man’s world.

5. Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2: One of the most remarkable cinematic turnarounds I’ve ever seen, with the smirking, soulless, self-parodying trashbag mediocrity of its predecessor blown absolutely to hell by a follow-up that’s somehow stylish, funny, and weird as hell in all the best ways even though it’s by all the same people; while some characters don’t get their full due, it’s anchored by the central story of awful fathers and the scope of how bad they fail their kid, with Rocket trailing in its wake as he learns to be a little bit less of a dickhead.

4. Justice League: I know, I know, and if it wasn’t about characters I’m so predisposed to love I almost certainly wouldn’t put it this high, but it was and I did and I’ll stand by it. It’s exciting and satisfying and lean and tied together by a set of enjoyable characters arcs, somehow a perfect expression of the middlebrow popcorn sensibility this Snyder/Whedon hybrid freakshow ended up aiming for.

3. Spider-Man: Homecoming: Finally, a Spider-Man movie that’s both good and recognizably about Spider-Man. It’s awkward and quirky and silly and heavy in ways none of its MCU contemporaries were quite willing to get, and because of that it’s near the head of that lot as their biggest hero finally comes close to living up to his premise of feeling like the hero – who could be you!

2. The Lego Batman Movie: I never thought I’d see a kids film where a substantial part of the emotional core is Batman and Joker implicitly arguing about the boundaries and commitments of their open relationship, but that’s the world we’re living in. It’s the kind of parody that could only truly work for a character as embedded in the global cultural consciousness as Batman, playing off the popular understanding of him and bit by bit forcing that particular brand of unwittingly absurd avenger forever howling in the wind to grow up and become something like how Batman works at his best. It’s wild, and I absolutely loved it.

1. Logan: Some of if not the only real competition The Dark Knight has for title of absolute best superhero movie, this was absolutely next-level work on just about every level, and I’m honestly not sure that we’ll ever see the likes of it again, so unique and unlikely was its conception as a hard-R pseudo-post-apocalyptic depressing western character study with the guy with knife-fists; it’s a miracle that it worked at all, nevermind as well as any of these things ever have. It doesn’t seem to be kicking off a new wave of grim-and-gritty superhero shit - the catastrophic wake the DC movies have left behind them made that impossible - but I have to imagine this’ll have an influence, so here’s hoping it’ll be more of its contemporaries being willing to branch out into unconventional territory and commit with all they have the way this did.

#MCU #DCEU #Logan #The Lego Batman Movie #Spider Man: Homecoming #Justice League #Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 #Wonder Woman #Thor: Ragnarok #Atomic Blonde #Kingsman: The Golden Circle #Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets #Opinion

[kitanoko]

Fire, Fire pt.3

Hey! Part 3 of my bakumomo fic with jelly Todo which was due for months is here!!

 I’m posting Part 4 tomorrow! 

Thanks to those who still send me asks about it

//READ PART TWO HERE//

“We were having fun,” Bakugou spat, still in Todoroki’s clutches, and gave the boy in front of him an urgent shove. Todoroki took a few steps back, and distanced himself away, watching as Bakugou soothed his throat a little. They were having fun? Todoroki didn’t want to dive deeper into that comment but his mouth turned dry thinking about whatever that insinuated.

Bakugou steadied himself, his left hand leaning against the desk next to him. Toying with Todoroki’s emotions was dangerously fun, he thought. It hadn’t even been a minute and Bakugou was already enjoying his new-found experiment.

“Why do you care so much two-face?” Bakugou coughed out as he managed to flip his collar back to its original state, “For the record, pony-tail girl was the one who came to me, not the other way around.”

Kirishima moved forward, wedging himself between the two in case things got out of hand again. At this time, the sun has almost disappeared below the horizon, leaving the classroom an eerie abyss.

Todoroki inhaled deeply and exhaled.

“What’s your intention?” He asked, noticing Kirishima’s uneasiness, and Bakugou let out a chuckle.

“I have no intentions whatsoever,” Bakugou spoke with a sense of ambiguity, “But pony-tail and I seem to be getting along.”

The blond swiftly grabbed his bag in one motion and slung it across his shoulders, a mischievous grin spread across his face. His red-haired friend placed a hand gently on Todoroki.

“It’s late,” Kirishima stated, eyeing the two, “Todoroki, let’s leave this for another day.” The Red Riot hero gave a meek smile, but deep down he was hoping that this was the end of it. In the back of his mind, Kirishima imagined the disaster that would be of Todoroki and Bakugou’s full on fight, if it were to happen. Aizawa would for sure sentence the three of them to house arrest. Kirishima groaned inwardly. How unfair would it be if he was penalized, it’s not even like he wanted to be a part of it! It didn’t help that Bakugou had a crappy attitude too.

“We’re going,” Kirishima’s voice trailed off, and saw Bakugou charge out the door, “See you tomorrow bro.”

Todoroki answered him with a light flick of his wrist in the air as he turned away. His hair covered his expression but Kirishima was positive the heat he was feeling at the moment was from him.

~

“That’s absolutely preposterous!” Yaoyorozu screamed into the phone, “You guys thought I had a thing with Bakugou?! Are you insane?!”

Jirou pulled the phone away from her ears, and closed her eyes, “I know, it was Kaminari and Kirishima! I didn’t believe them but when I saw you and Bakugou coming back late—“

“Yeah, FROM HATSUME-SAN’S LAB,” Yaoyorozu wanted to punch someone in the face, though of course, her mother would not approve. She should have known this would happen! Rumours come and go; if she wanted to keep her little ‘project’ undiscovered by Todoroki, she’s going to have to keep the truth amongst a few people.

“I know now you were making something for Todoroki,” Jirou muttered, “you should’ve told me earlier.”

“I wanted to keep it a secret,” Yaoyorozu explained as she pulled her stuffed penguin closer, “It’ll be done within the next few weeks. Let’s keep this between us. I don’t want Kaminari’s big mouth going around.”

Jirou leaned back against her bed rest, “Alright, Momo, but for the sake of Todoroki’s mental health….you should hurry it up.”

“What do you mean?” Yaoyorozu questioned as her penguin fell out of her hands. Did something happen when she was gone today?

Jirou snickered and took a bite out of a chocolate bar. Swirling the piece inside her mouth, she waited a little before answering her best friend.

“Todoroki punched his desk super hard then walked out.” Yaoyorozu can practically see her friend grinning like an idiot. Jirou was a closeted hopeless romantic after all.

“Wait, after he heard you guys?”

“Yeeeeep, after he heard us. Actually scared me a little too. It’s so unlike him to lose his cool.”

Yaoyorozu’s eyes lit up and her heart started to pound.  With dainty fingers, she clutched her chest, her pyjamas scrunched in the small of her palm.

Does this mean Todoroki was…was…

She needed to keep her head straight.

“He’s probably jealous or something,” Jirou finished her thought for her, and tossed the candy wrapper into the bin as if she was shooting a three-pointer.

She could hear Yaoyorozu’s breathing but no response came. “Momo, you still there?”

“Yeah. Um…Jirou I think I’ll go now…it’s…past my bedtime.”

“O…kaayy…” Jirou said in a puzzled tone, eyes narrowing, “I bet your heart is going todorokiDOKIDOKI—“

“NO, STOP!” Yaoyorozu buried her face in exasperation and Jirou laughed so hard she choked on her own saliva, “GOODNIGHT!”

She hung up before a response came from the other side.

~~

The lab was always in disarray, but today, it looked even more so. Trinkets were hazardously dangling from the edges of tables that looked scratched from wear. Hatsume’s ‘thought-of-the-day’ projects (which really just seemed to be made on a whim) laid in a pile so monstrous at the corner of the room, that one would think it was a landfill.

Bakugou yawned, slamming the door as he stepped foot onto the concrete floor covered in histories of machine-made scratches and oil stains that melted into the covering. The room was especially dark in the morning, the only source of light coming from a desk lamp on his far left. Bakugou noticed the usual host of the lab in the middle of something, steps away from him. He squinted.

Hatsume was no doubt a gold mine of knowledge; a girl so creative and utterly inspiring that it made Bakugou shiver. And he wasn’t the kind of person that’d be impressed that easily.

She was completely immersed in her tenth ‘ground-breaking’ project for the week, spine-curved, arms raised with tools, black and rusty, sticking out of her pockets. Her hair, a lovely colour of cherry blossoms, damp with sweat, held up with nothing but her usual goggles.

Bakugou grunted a few times to get her attention. Hatsume didn’t budge, her pupils changing like a kaleidoscope and he realized she was in the process of using her ‘zoom’ quirk. Bakugou walked closer, observing her fingers twist and tug at every gear, apparent that her hard-earned skills were the cause of the familiar movements that she was performing.

“YO,” Bakugou cried out. Hatsume picked up her head and gave a wide grin.

“You’re here! Right on time with two minutes to spare! Come over here,” the girl gestured to the empty space beside her, “I’ve improved the blaster as discussed with Yaoyorozu, you have no idea how much more thrust this thing has now.”

“Un.”

“And to think that I’d be spending at least three days on this, well guess what, I only spent a day! Hah! Talk about efficiency!”

“Un.”

Bakugou side eyed the girl beside him. She was intoxicated in her work, her explanations feeding off of dedication. For a minute, watching the chatterbox in front of him, his mind wandered off. At this time on most days, he’d be out and about given his busy training schedule. Never a bad decision to squeeze in some physical activity before classes start, especially if he had to climb the ladder against people like Deku and two-face.

“I’m asking you a question, hello there,” The inventor made a quick motion with her hand to his face clearly having stopped her tedious anecdote, “I said, what made you come here? Is it because of my amazing babies?”

Her arm waved to showcase what looked like junk behind her. He guffawed.

“No way IN HELL am I interested in your trash.”

“Hey, don’t disrespect my babies!” Hatsume made a pout and crossed her arms, “It’s odd how a rude boy like you became friends with a lady such as Yaoyorozu herself. I’m just curious why you’re willing to help us, is all.”

A vein twitched on his forehead.

“Free math lesson’s what that pony-tail bitch said I’d get. Like I give a rat’s ass about being her friend and whatever else two-faced had to do with it. Y’all better watch yourselves or Imma leave and you’d be stuck with no one to test your shit out. I swear –“

His eyes shot opened when he was cut short with a bitter taste of metal and mint on the tip of his tongue which expanded towards the cave of his throat. His immediate attention turned towards a machine, though it appeared to have something similar to eyes and a mouth, propelling itself flippantly in front of his face.

Bakugou swatted it away with a painful snap of his palm rendering smoke from the robot’s exhaust. Did he just bat at her creation as if it was a mosquito?  

Hatsume watched devastated as her robot whizzed out of commission, twirling down to the ground with a loud bang.

“BLEH,” Bakugou spat out the foam, eyes intensely glaring at the culprit, “did that thing of yours just spray some shit into my mouth?!”

He continued to spit out the remains.

“Aw why’d you do that!” Hatsume knelt down to inspect the corpse of her machine.

“Uh, oh wells, I made that machine for jokes last month, its purpose was to spray cleaning agent on people whenever they swore. Guess it’s still working,” Hatsume chuckled, brightening up, “It’s great isn’t it?”

Bakugou flipped her a middle finger. Realizing what he just did, he turned around to scan if any more of these artificial intelligence were coming his way.

Hatsume straightened herself, arms on her hips before dragging Bakugou’s extended hand to the counter before them.

“Let’s get this going, shall we?”

~~~

This bitch is cray, Bakugou wanted to voice out loud in the middle of class.

It was the second period, right after lunch, and the smartest girl in class was already all fired up, spewing whatever nonsense he deemed to be a hodgepodge of bullshit. It irked Bakugou’s ears to hear her talk. With such quick wit, no less.

The time he spent at Hatsume’s wasn’t the best either, and his mind refused to let it go.

Aizawa watched intently as the VP of the class stood up, with such dignity that seemed limitless, and continued with her half-way finished explanation.

“….And that is my theory as to what would happen if three black holes were to ever collide.”

Finally she’s done, Bakugou thought. He held his chin in his hand and shifted back to the instructor standing behind the podium.

Yaoyorozu sat back down, lips upturned, eyes glazed over. Everyone was dead silent as Aizawa’s jaw-dropped expression transitioned into a soft, ‘what-the-heck-just-happened’ face.

“Uh…excellent, Yaoyorozu,” their teacher coughed out and cleared his throat before he grabbing a chalk to scribble some formulas on the board. The other students were silently praising their Vice President though no one had a clue.

After what felt like a decade (it didn’t help that Kaminari and Ashido had to ask a million questions in between each new question), Aizawa handed each student a worksheet. Bakugou chewed at the back of his pencil, teeth grinding harder into the wood at what was written beside his name.

“This assignment is due in two days and you each have a partner to work with. I’ve written down your partner’s name at the top,” Aizawa said and sighed, “Now get started. If you have questions, you can ask later, I’m going to take a break.”

And with that, their teacher crawled slowly into his yellow silkworm-esque sleeping bag at the corner of the room.

Bakugou kicked his feet onto his desk, arms crossed in anger.

What the heck were the chances that it’s her again?!

“Bakugou-san! What are the chances, eh?” Yaoyorozu appeared to be thrilled as she verbally repeated what he was thinking and he replied with a dissatisfied ‘TCH’.

Yaoyorozu didn’t seem to care. Or rather, she seemed to be used to his antics already. Her hair swayed with every movement as she sauntered over, apple-cheeked and smiling. She pulled up what used to be Midoriya’s chair and sat crossed legged beside him.

Flipping the page over, she began, “So,” she leaned forward a bit more, “How was the improvement?”

Bakugou saw her scan the surroundings before adding, enunciating every word, “I’m so sorry, I apologize for not being there this morning, I had a meeting with the Cooking Club and I couldn’t miss out. Hatsume-san said that you seem to approve the changes though? Is that true?”

“Well, it’s not totally shit.” The blond closed his eyes, and pushed his legs back down. The two was probably in everyone’s radar now seeing how suspicious they were acting.

“I do think that the power is great but the precision of the blast is not quite there. Octopus knows. She’s gonna fix it up a bit and get it up and running in a few days,” the boy promptly said and his brows scrunched together at the sudden thought of the unpleasant occurrence that morning.

Yaoyorozu caught on.

“I also heard from Hatsume-san that you got ‘mouth-washed’ by one of her swear-bots.”

“DON’T REMIND ME!”

At that, Shouji turned around to hush the two with a finger to his lips. Mineta was disgruntled.

“Sorry, Shouji-san,” Yaoyorozu nodded an apology behind her, and gave Bakugou a sneer right after.

“Must’ve tasted like toothpaste,” she teased in a hushed voice, having no thought of how dire the situation could get if a Bakugou’s rage awakens.

“More like shit mixed with shit. Fuck, y’all piss me off!”

“Aw, don’t be like that-“

“Hey, don’t touch my hair!”

Bakugou contorted a frown as Yaoyorozu attempted to give his spiky hairdo a pat resulting in more giggles from the girl beside him.

This was not the kind of relationship that he wanted to have with anyone or expected to have with anyone. Ever since entering UA, Bakugou has felt somewhat of the same conviction as Todoroki. He wasn’t here to make friends nor was he here to establish any kind of passive connection with his classmates, let alone this girl, whose preppy demeanor could blind him in a split second.

Bakugou gritted his teeth; though he had this at the back of his mind, he still couldn’t unravel the mystery that is Yaoyorozu, who seemed to be gradually stripping him of the façade that he wasn’t sure he could hold up much longer.

#todomomo #todoroki x yaoyorozu #bakugou katsuki #boku no hero academia #bnha #bakumomo #my fanfic

[judgesabo]

Troll Theory 2: Electric Boogaloo

Man, it has been a while since my last post. I’ve been keeping things mostly up to date on the cool and new wiki, so you can go there for plot summaries for now on. I may still make the occasional post for plot dense updates like  coalle[s]ce  S[FRESH JIMMY.

With the end of the Intermishin’, many new things have been revealed about the trolls that reopens a few questions and raises some others. This post is a follow-up to my previous Troll Theory post, which was posted slightly before  [S) bunnie time. I will be covering all information gained since then on the trolls.

New Information

Bunnie Time - I covered the details of this video here, but the most important points involve Kanaya. Apparently after her conversation with Rose, Kanaya used her Trolian program to look through Rose’s life and witnesses the ectobiological birth of Roze. Finally noticing the corruption, she throws her keyboard away in shock and disgust.

Kanaya experienced a “slow reveal” of the corruption. Things were shitty long before she took notice, longer than what should have been possible, especially with Rose pointing it out explicitly.

Trolian is Introduced.

Trolls are confirmed for harassing non-players like Dabe according to the “Chump Roll”. Jhon also apparently changed his handle like in Homestuck due to the harassement.

coalle[s]ce - Nothing directly about the trolls here, but the Wreckining began extremely early, indicating that the trolls still screwed up making the human’s universe. The humans may still be doomed to failure and need to scratch their session.

Intermishin’ - Like the original Intermission from Homestuck, we treated to the story of the Midight Crewd. While most of the attention is on the Felt, who all appear to be normal, this updates gives us some of our first real look at the troll session itself. There is a lot of information here, so I will take it point by point.

Trolls are confirmed to have a session, complete with their own version of Jagk Nore.

A corrupted Eridan exists and is locked up in Sleck’s CHEST OF CONTINENTS for punishment.

Trolls cry blue tears instead of matching their blood color. Possibly an error or something retconned by corruption.

Spdaes Sleck has a “frendship bracelit” from his “best friendo” covered in diamonds. Possibly from Kraket.

Jagk and Kraket had a moirallegiance called “Jagket”, but this ship apparently sank.

Vrasky is now Snoman, the eighth member of the Felt and Sleck’s hatedaddy. Killing her destroys the universe.

The trolls Ultimate Reward doorway exists in Lord English’s vault. It has only ten windows.

I asked four questions in my original troll post: (1) Why are the trolls harassing the humans, (2) Where are the trolls, (3) What happened to Vrasky, and (4) Why hasn’t Kanaya noticed anything?

This new information reopens the first three questions and settles the fourth, which I am happy to have had accurately predicted. It also raises entirely new questions though. If there are only ten windows on the trolls SGRUB logo, then there should only be ten players, leaving at least two trolls out of the loop. So who counts? And why is the doorway in Lord English’s vault in the first place?

Which trolls are players?

Let’s assume that all ten players will be members of the ten originals A2 trolls. That is by no means guaranteed of course, but it’ll keep things simpler.

In that case, there are two pairs of trolls that stand out as exceptional: Vrasky and Eridan, and Nepeta and Feferi.

Vrasky and Eridan are both notable for not being in their hives. As I demonstrated in my original post, all of the trolls should be in the respective hives. With bunnie time, this was only further confirmed as we can clearly see around Kanaya’s room.

Eridan however has been imprisoned by Spdaes Sleck, and Vrasky is a fully fledged member of the Green Guys / Felt. They are both still on Alternia, albeit hundreds of years in the future. Now Vrasky appears to be in her hive when she talks to Jhon, so either (1) she still has access to it, possibly through the Ultimate Reward door, (2) there are some serious time discrepancy between Act 3 and the Intermishin, or (3) she outfitted her room in the Felt Manor like her original room.

If Eridan and Vrasky are the trolls that have been left out, then that would help explain why they are seen separated from the rest of the group. It would also help explain why Vrasky has not achieved god tier.

Nepeta and Feferi are notable for being entirely absent from CaNWC so far. As of now, we have directly seen Karkat, Terezi, Equius, Gamzee, Kanaya, Vriska, and Eridan, and we have also seen the trolian handles for Tavros, Sollux, and Aradia, which is ten trolls total. We have not seen anything from either of these two yet.

Now this can and perhaps will be easily overturn in the future if they ever do decide to show up. Trolls have not had a major presence in the story yet, so this is understandable. It also seems unlikely that o would just inexplicably drop two characters.

Still, we can note their absence, and them not being players might make sense. In the original troll post I asked how the trolls were able to beat the Blapck Kink without a god-tier Vriska. If Feferi never prototyped Gl’bgolyb though it would have been a much easier fight.

Alternatively, she could have just prototyped something else, or another player could have risen to god tier. Excluding both of these characters would also mess with the male/female ratio of their session, but Dadd already cloned a disproportionate number of males, so that might not be a hard rule in CaNWC.

We likely won’t be able to tell who is truly a player until the comic makes it explicit, or have more information on why this change was made in the first place. It really could be any two players at this point, or even more than two if they have some troll equivalent of Swet Bro and Hecka Jef.

Why is the door there?

The Ultimate Reward is meant to be given on the Victory Platform, orbiting around Skaya. It is now in Lord English’s vault.

That... is very odd.

Off the top of my head, I would like to present two possibilities for why this might be the case.

Firstly, since the Felt Manor is on Alternia, it could be that this is one of the “exit” doors. Perhaps the Ultimate Reward doesn’t just provide passage into the new universe, but also back to your original planet should you wish to return. This fact was just rendered moot in canon since Jade brought Earth with them. This explanation could help explain how Eridan and Vrasky got there to begin with and seems like a reasonable fanon rule.

Alternatively, Lord English might have stolen the door itself. In Bec Noir’s absence, the trolls need some new excuse for why they have failed to claim the reward for their success. But it’s also clear that whatever stopped them doesn’t seem to be the constant threat that Bec Noir was since they seem to be living in relative peace in their hives. If the door was simply taken from them though, and they somehow blamed the humans for this, that would settle the matter.

Granted, in CaNWC Hecka Jef prototyped Rose’s Grimoire, apparently giving people horrorterror powers. I’m sure there are plenty of ways that could cause problems on the multiverse scale, and we are only beginning to see the ramifications of that with AR turning grimdark. But given how peaceful things seem to be with the trolls, I feel it’s safe to say they are facing a much different threat than they did in Homestuck if they face a threat at all.

Snoman

The ever important Vrasky is now the eighth member of the Felt. Somehow it seems that she was exiled to Alternia instead of the Blapck Quen.

Originally the Blapck Quen was exiled because she refused to wear her Ring of Orbs Twelvefold because Aradia prototyped a frog. Jack took this as an opportunity to team up with the trolls, dethrone, and exile her. She was then recruited by Doc Scratch while wandering Alternia.

If the trolls never prototype a frog, possibly due to Aradia being a non-player, then this could explain why the Felt needed to look for another member.

Her inclusion as a member also makes sense seeing as how this Vriska seems much more willing to work with Doc Scratch. While she actively competed against him in Homestuck (and presumably did here as well considering her destroyed eye), she directed Jhon to start up his game of Roller Coaster Tycoon, establishing communication between him and Doc Scratch.

Conclusion

Information on the trolls is still fairly scarce, but a lot of new possibilities have opened up. By all rights the troll session seems to have gone just as different in CaNWC as the human session is going, and I only expect things to diverge more from here on.

#cool and new web comic #canwc #trolls #kanaya maryam #vrasky #(Eridan) #theory #they're eating her #and then they're going to eat me #oh my goooooooood

[daihell]

So, I’ve been writing Elden and Dorian now for two years. March 1st was when I posted my first fic, so I decided to celebrate by rewriting that fic, but from Elden’s pov instead of Dorian’s. Anyway, I don’t think I ever posted it on tumblr, but the original can be found here on AO3. I hope you enjoy

It was well past sunset by the time Elden returned to his quarters, stifling a yawn as he tugged at his scarf to loosen it a little so he could breathe properly and finally relax. He crossed to his desk and poured himself a drink as he began sifting through the paperwork Josephine had left him, wondering if he should get started now or save it for the morning.

The door creaking open took him by surprise and he wracked his brain, worried he had forgotten something, but when he turned it was to see Dorian coming up the stairs and he couldn't help but smile. Elden was always happy to see him, of course, but they’d barely spoken today, too busy with their own work, and--as foolish as he felt admitting it even to himself--he had missed him. Still, it was rare for Dorian to pay him a visit unannounced, especially this late.

“So,” Dorian began as he sauntered into the room and Elden waited expectantly. “It's all very nice, this flirting business. I am, however, not a nice man.” Elden couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that, smiling a little. Dorian’s gaze became all the more intense and heated in response, however, striding towards him with a purpose that made it very difficult for Elden to concentrate on anything but him. “What say we dispense with the chitchat and move onto something a little more--primal,” Dorian said.

Oh. Elden felt his face begin to burn as Dorian watched him intently, stroking his chin and smiling deviously at the way Elden completely froze up, no idea how to react.

“It’ll set tongues wagging, of course. Not that they aren’t already wagging. I suppose it really depends,” Dorian said, and Elden found himself holding his breath as Dorian walked behind him, leaning in close and whispering. “How bad does the Inquisitor want to be?”

He could feel Dorian’s breath against his ear, could feel his heat from how close he was even without touching and Elden couldn’t deny that he wanted this. He’d never been sure of anything in his life, simply drifted through life directionless, barely getting by. But this, what he had with Dorian, their friendship, yes, but also the soft feel of their hands locked together and the nervous thrill when they kissed and the passion now that threatened to overwhelm him--he was sure of this and, Maker, he wanted it desperately. He had never been happier than he was with this man and the thought alone of saying yes and falling into that embrace was overwhelming.

But behind all that his mind was screaming. Was it all true for Dorian as well? Elden didn’t know what was happening, it just didn’t seem quite right and he didn’t like not being sure how Dorian felt. They’d barely kissed a handful of times let alone discussed whatever it was they were doing, and now suddenly here they were. It was all just moving so fast and it terrified him. He didn’t want to rush into anything, especially when he didn’t even know where they stood or what they were to each other. What if this was all there was to it? What if this was all Dorian wanted?

Elden had been offered that type of relationship before and he just-- he couldn’t. There was no way he could keep his heart out of it; it was already far too late for that anyway. Besides, he could barely keep up with Dorian as is, there was no way he could hope to match him if this was the direction he wanted to take. If he was disappointing tonight, would Dorian even want to waste his time and come back tomorrow?

No, that wasn’t fair. This was Dorian, after all. But then, this whole situation seemed very unlike him. Of course Dorian was an incredibly alluring and attractive man, but he’d never acted this way towards him before. Honestly, Dorian could render him speechless with a mere look and they both knew that; this whole thing just seemed unnecessary. It just felt like Dorian, this incredibly brave, genuine man, was suddenly using a well-practiced line on him, something meant for someone else in another time and place. Elden had tried to be honest with how he felt towards Dorian, to show there was no need for games, and he wasn’t sure what this all meant.

Given the awkwardness of what happened with Dorian’s birthright, Elden didn’t want to make any more mistakes by rushing in blindly. He would probably regret it, he'd probably ruin this like he ruined everything, but he couldn't bring himself to say yes to Dorian now. He suddenly realized he wanted this to be genuine, or he wanted it to be nothing. If it turned out they both wanted something different romantically, he didn’t want to risk their friendship at the very least. And, to be perfectly honest, he wasn’t sure he was ready for this step. Not yet, not so soon.

Steeling himself, Elden stepped away ever so slightly as he turned to face Dorian. He crossed his arms awkwardly, more hugging himself than anything, the room suddenly feeling stifling. “Do we need to move things this quickly?”

“Quickly?” Dorian said, his voice a little too high in his surprise and Elden felt his stomach turn.  Of course he was doing this all wrong. “My dear Inquisitor, by my standards we’ve been positively chaste.”

“It just seems a little sudden,” Elden said weakly. He really had ruined this, hadn’t he?

“What is it you want from me, exactly?” Dorian asked, incredulously. “A relationship?” He said the last word with such disdain, it shook Elden. Maybe he’d read the whole situation wrong after all. Maybe he had been asking for too much and this had never even been an option for them. He felt like an idiot.

“Is that such a terrible idea?” he asked, not sure what else to say. Dorian stared at him in disbelief before turning away and now Elden just wanted to reach out to him. Why was that such a revelation? He’d tried to so hard to make himself clear, to let Dorian know how much he cared, but perhaps he’d failed at that entirely. “You’re speechless.”

“It doesn’t happen often,” Dorian said, finally turned back. He seemed to search Elden’s face for a moment before glancing away. “Where I come from, anything between men… It’s physical. It doesn’t go beyond that. It’s not that you don’t care, you just… don’t hope for more.”

Elden’s heart broke for him with the matter-of-fact way he spoke. He knew Dorian was a passionate man;  he cared so much and fought so hard. How many times had he been rejected, forced to smother that part of himself? Had he resigned himself to being unloved? Dorian deserved so much, he deserved the world and more affection and adoration than he knew what to do with and it made Elden angry to think that he was ever given less.

“This is more,” Elden found himself saying desperately. If nothing else, he had to make Dorian see that he was worth so much.

“You say that like it’s a simple thing, easily imagined.” Dorian looked tired. How long had it been since he’d given up hope? “I have no examples with which to compare.”

“Let us be the example,” Elden said before he’d even realized what he was saying. “That is,” he backtracked quickly, “if it’s what you want?”

“You are a remarkably bizarre creature,” Dorian said, studying him, but at least his smile was back. “Fine, have it your way. I am, however, not leaving your quarters empty-handed. It’s a matter of pride.”

Elden wanted to ask what this meant for them, where they stood, but then Dorian moved in close, a hand coming up to brush against his cheek, and then Dorian was kissing him. Elden held him close feeling so relieved, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his head, just wanting to pour everything he had into this, to make sure Dorian never doubted how much he cared, how much this all meant to him. How much Dorian meant to him. He never wanted Dorian to doubt his immense worth.

Eventually Dorian pulled away, smiling fondly before turning to go. Maker, it was painful watching him leave, but Elden was hopeful, knowing they were on the same page and more comfortable now knowing they would be taking things more slowly. Elden was left standing there, feeling slightly dazed and already missing Dorian’s touch, but happier than he thought possible.

#dorian pavus #pavelyan #dorian x inquisitor #elden trevelyan #inquisitor #trevelyan #dragon age inquisition #worth the risk series #cal writes stuff #fanfic #i wasn't sure i was gonna make it but i'm glad i managed to post it on march 1st again lol #not completely sure how i feel about this #it's not very good #I worry I failed to really explain how elden's brain works #he's just really anxious all the time #but oh well this is all i can do for now #i'm not sure there's really been an improvement over the last two years though so that's disappointing

[suzanneshannon]

Revisiting prefers-reduced-motion, the reduced motion media query

Two years ago, I wrote about prefers-reduced-motion, a media query introduced into Safari 10.1 to help people with vestibular and seizure disorders use the web. The article provided some background about the media query, why it was needed, and how to work with it to avoid creating disability-triggering visual effects.

The article was informed by other people’s excellent work, namely Orde Saunders’ post about user queries, and Val Head’s article on web animation motion sensitivity.

We’re now four months into 2019, and it makes me happy to report that we have support for the feature in all major desktop browsers! Safari was first, with Firefox being a close second. Chrome was a little late to the party, but introduced it as of version 74.

This browser support data is from Caniuse, which has more detail. A number indicates that browser supports the feature at that version and up.

Desktop

ChromeOperaFirefoxIEEdgeSafari74No63NoNo10.1

Mobile / Tablet

iOS SafariOpera MobileOpera MiniAndroidAndroid ChromeAndroid Firefox10.3NoNoNoNoNo

While Microsoft Edge does not have support for prefers-reduced-motion, it will become Chrome under the hood soon. If there’s one good thing to come from this situation, it’s that Edge’s other excellent accessibility features will (hopefully) have a good chance of being back-ported into Chrome.

Awareness

While I’m happy to see some websites and web apps using the media query, I find that it’s rare to encounter it outside of places maintained by people who are active in CSS and accessibility spaces. In a way, this makes sense. While prefers-reduced-motion is relatively new, CSS features and functionality as a whole are often overlooked and undervalued. Accessibility even more so.

It’s tough to blame someone for not using a feature they don’t know exists, especially if it’s relatively new, and especially in an industry as fast-paced as ours. The deck is also stacked in terms of what the industry prioritizes as marketable, and therefore what developers pay attention to. And yet, prefers-reduced-motion is a library-agnostic feature that ties into Operating System-level functionality. I’m pretty sure that means it’ll have some significant staying power in terms of reward for time spent for skill acquisition.

Speaking of rewards, I think it’s also worth pointing out the true value prefers-reduced-motion represents: Not attracting buzzword-hungry recruiters on LinkedIn, but improving the quality of life for the people who benefit from the effect it creates. Using this media query could spare someone from having to unnecessarily endure a tremendous amount of pain for simply having the curiosity to click on a link or scroll down a page.

The people affected

When it comes to disability, many people just assume “blind people.” The reality is that disabilities are a complicated and nuanced topic, one that is surprisingly pervasive, deeply personal, and full of unfortunate misconceptions. It's also highly variable. Different people are affected by different disability conditions in different ways — extending to a wide gamut of permanent, temporary, environmental, and situational concerns. Multiple, compounding conditions can (and do) affect individuals, and sometimes what helps one person might hinder another. It’s a difficult, but very vital thing to keep in mind.

If you have a vestibular disorder or have certain kinds of migraine or seizure triggers, navigating the web can be a lot like walking through a minefield — you’re perpetually one click away from activating an unannounced animation. And that’s just for casual browsing.

If you use the web for work, you might have no choice but to endure a web app that contains triggering animations multiple times a week, or even per day or hour. In addition to not having the autonomy to modify your work device, you may also not have the option to quickly and easily change jobs — a privilege easily forgotten when you’re a specialized knowledge worker.

It’s a fallacy to assume that a person is aware of their vestibular disorder, or what triggers it. In fact, sometimes the initial triggering experience exacerbates your sensitivity and makes other parts of a design difficult to use. Facundo Corradini shares his experience with this phenomenon in his article, “Accessibility for Vestibular Disorders: How My Temporary Disability Changed My Perspective.”

Not all assistive technology users are power users, so it’s another fallacy to assume that a person with a vestibular disorder is aware of, or has the access rights to enable a motion-reducing Operating System setting or install a browser extension.

Think of someone working in a large corporation who has to use a provisioned computer with locked-down capabilities. Or someone who isn’t fully aware of what of their tablet is capable of doing past browsing social media, watching video, and messaging their family and friends. Or a cheap and/or unorthodox device that will never support prefers-reduced-motion feature — some people purchase discontinued devices such as the Windows Phone specifically because their deprecation makes them affordable.

Do these people deserve to be hurt because of their circumstances? Of course not.

Considering what’s harmful

You can tie harm into value, the same way you can with delight. Animation intended to nudge a person towards a signup could also drive them away. This kind of exit metric is more difficult to quantify, but it definitely happens. Sometimes the harm is even intentional, and therefore an easier datapoint to capture — what you do with that information is a whole other issue.

If enough harm happens to enough people, it affects that certain something we know as branding. This effect doesn’t even need to be tied to a disability condition. Too much animation, applied to the wrong things in the wrong way will drive people away, even if they can’t precisely articulate why.

You also don’t know who might be on the receiving end, or what circumstances they’re experiencing the moment they load your website or web app. We can’t — and shouldn’t — know this kind of information, either. It could be a prospective customer, the employee at a venture capitalist firm tasked with evaluating your startup, or maybe even your new boss.

We also don’t need to qualify their relationship to us to determine if their situation is worth considering — isn’t it enough to just be proactively kind?

Animation is progressive enhancement

We also need to acknowledge that not every device that can access the web can also render animation, or render animation smoothly. When animation is used on a low-power or low quality device that “technically” supports it, the overall user experience suffers. Some people even deliberately seek this experience out as a feature.

Devices may also be set to specialized browsing modes to allow people to access your content in alternate ways. This concept is known as being robust, and is one of the four high-level principles that govern the guidelines outlining how to craft accessible experiences.

Animation might not always look the way you intend it in these modes. One example would be when the viewport is zoomed and the animation isn’t built using relative units. There’s a non-trivial chance important parts might be pushed out of the viewport, leaving the animation appearing as a random collection of flickering bits. Another example of a specialized browsing mode might be Reader Mode, where the animation may not appear at all.

Taking it to code

Considering all this, I’m wondering if there are opportunities to help web professionals become more aware of, and therefore more considerate of the downsides of poorly conceived and implemented animation.

Maybe we proactively incorporate a media query high up in the cascade to disable all animation for those who desire it, and for those who have devices that can’t support it. This can be accomplished by targeting anything where someone has expressed a desire for a low-to-no-animation experience, or any device that has a slow screen refresh rate.

The first part of the query, targeting low-to-no-animation, is done via prefers-reduced-motion. The second, targeting a screen with a low refresh rate, uses update. update is a new media feature that allows us to “query the ability of the output device to modify the appearance of content once it has been rendered.”

@media screen and (prefers-reduced-motion: reduce), (update: slow) { * { animation-duration: 0.001ms !important; transition-duration: 0.001ms !important; } }

This code forces all animation that utilizes a declaration of animation-duration or transition-duration to conclude at a rate that is imperceptible to the human eye. It will work when a person has requested a reduced motion experience, or the device has a screen with a slow refresh rate, say e-ink or a cheap smartphone.

Retaining the animation and transition duration also ensures that any functionality that is tied to CSS-based animation will activate successfully (unlike using a declaration of animation: none), while still preventing a disability condition trigger or creating rendering lag.

This declaration is authored with the intent of introducing some intentional friction into our reset styles. Granted, it’s not a perfect solution, but it does drive at a few things:

Increasing the chances of developers becoming aware of the two media features, by way of making them present in the cascade of every inspected element.

Providing a moment to consider why and how animation will be introduced into a website or web app, and what the experience should be like for those who can’t or don’t want to experience it.

Encouraging developers who are less familiar with CSS to think of the cascade in terms of components and nudge them towards making more easily maintainable stylesheets.

Animation isn’t unnecessary

In addition to vestibular disorders and photosensitive conditions, there’s another important aspect of accessibility we must consider: cognitive disabilities.

Cognitive disabilities

As a concern, the category is wide and often difficult to quantify, but no less important than any other accessibility discipline. It is also far more prevalent. To expand on this some, the World Health Organization reports an estimated 300 million people worldwide are affected by depression, a temporary or permanent, environmental and/or biological condition that can significantly impair your ability to interact with your environment. This includes interfering with your ability to understand the world around you.

Animation can be a great tool to help combat some forms of cognitive disability by using it to break down complicated concepts, or communicate the relationship between seemingly disparate objects. Val Head’s article on A List Apart highlights some other very well-researched benefits, including helping to increase problem-solving ability, recall, and skill acquisition, as well as reducing cognitive load and your susceptibility to change blindness.

Reduce isn’t necessarily remove

We may not need to throw the baby out with the bathwater when it comes to using animation. Remember, it’s prefers-reduced-motion, not prefers-no-motion.

If we embrace the cascade, we can work with the animation reset code described earlier on a per-component basis. If the meaning of a component is diminished by removing its animation altogether, we could slow down and simplify the component’s animation to the point where the concept can be communicated without potentially being an accessibility trigger.

If you’re feeling clever, you might even be able to use CSS Custom Properties to help achieve this in an efficient way. If you’re feeling extra clever, you could also use these Custom Properties for a site-wide animation preferences widget.

In the following code sample, we’re defining default properties for our animation and transition durations, then modifying them based on the context they’re declared in:

/* Set default durations */ :root { --animation-duration: 250ms; --transition-duration: 250ms; } /* Contextually shorten duration length */ @media screen and (prefers-reduced-motion: reduce), (update: slow) { :root { --animation-duration: 0.001ms !important; --transition-duration: 0.001ms !important; } } @media screen and (prefers-reduced-motion: reduce), (update: slow) { /* Remove duration for all unknown animation when a user requests a reduced animation experience */ * { animation-duration: var(--animation-duration); transition-duration: var(--animation-duration); } } /* Update the duration when animation is critical to understanding and the device can support it */ @media screen and (prefers-reduced-motion: reduce), (update: fast) { .c-educational-concept { /* Set a new animation duration scoped to this component */ --animation-duration: 6000ms !important; ... animation-name: educational-concept; /* Use the scoped animation duration */ animation-duration: var(--animation-duration); } }

However, trying to test the effectiveness of this slowed-down animation puts us in a bit of a pickle: there’s no real magic number we can write a test against.

We need to have a wide representation of people who are susceptible to animation-based disability triggers to sign off on it being safe, which unfortunately involves subjecting them to something that may potentially not be. That’s a huge ask.

A better approach is to ask about what kinds of animation have been triggers for them in the past, then see if what they describe matches what we’ve made. This approach also puts the onus on yourself, and not the person with a disability, to do the work to provide accommodation.

If you’re having trouble finding people, ask your friends, family, and coworkers — I’m sure there’s more people out there than you think. And if you need a good starting point for creating safer animation, I once again urge you to read Val’s article on A List Apart.

Neurodivergence

There’s a lot to unpack here, and I’m not the most qualified person to talk about it. Here’s what my friend Shell Little, an Accessibility Specialist at Wells Fargo DS4B, has to say about it:

Web animation as it relates to Neurodivergence (ND) can be a fantastic tool to guide users to solidify meaning and push understanding. The big issue is the same animation that can assist one group of ND users can create a barrier for another. As mentioned by Eric, Neurodivergence is a massive group of people with a vast range of abilities and covers a wide variety of cognitive disabilities including but not limited to ADHD, autism, dyslexia, epilepsy, dyscalculia, obsessive-compulsive disorder, dyspraxia, and Tourette syndrome.

When speaking about motion on the web it’s important we think specifically about attention-related disabilities, autism, and sensory processing disorders that are also closely linked to both. These groups of people, who coincidentally includes me, are especially sensitive to motion as it relates to understanding information and interacting with the web as a whole. Animations can easily overwhelm, distract, and frustrate users who are sensitive to motion and from personal experience, it can even do all three at once.

Because so many people are affected by motion and animation on the web the W3C’s WCAG have a criterion named Pause, Stop, Hide that is specifically written to guide content creators on how to best create accessible animations. My main issues with this guideline are, it only applies to animations that last longer than 5 seconds and motion that is deemed essential is exempt from the standard. That means a ton of animations that can create barriers such as distraction, dizziness, and even harm are out there in the wild.

It makes sense, as Eric mentioned, that we can’t get rid of all animation. Techniques such as spinners let users know the page is still working on the task it was given, and micro-interactions help show progression. But depending on someone’s brain, the things that are helpful at lunch can be a barrier later that night. Someone’s preferences and needs shift throughout their day, and that’s the beauty of prefers-reduced-motion. It has the potential to be what fills the gaps left by Pause, Stop, Hide and allow users to decide when they do or do not want to have motion. That right there is priceless to someone like me.

As someone with an attention-related disability, an interaction I have found to be exceedingly frustrating is autoplay. Many media sharing sites have auto-playing content such as videos, gifs, and ads but because they can be paused, they pass the WCAG standard. That doesn’t mean they aren’t a huge barrier for me as I can’t read any text around them when they are playing. This causes me to have to pause every single moving item I run into. This not only significantly slows me down, and eats away at my limited spoons, but it also derails my task flow and train of thought. Now, it is true some sites — such as Twitter and LinkedIn — have settings to turn autoplay off, but this isn’t true for all sites. This would be a perfect place for prefers-reduced-motion.

In a world where I would be able to determine when and if I want videos to start playing at me, I would be able to get more done with less cognitive strain. prefers-reduced-motion is freedom for me and the millions of people whose brains work like mine. In sum, the absolute best thing we can do for our users who are sensitive to motion is to put a system in place that empowers them to decide when and where animation should be displayed to them. Let the user decide because they will always know their access needs better than we do.

Thanks, Shell!

I don’t hate fun, I just don’t want to hurt people

On my own time, I’m fortunate enough to be able to enjoy animation. I appreciate the large amounts of time and attention involved with making something come alive on the screen, and I’ve definitely put my fair share of time ooh-ing and aah-ing over other people’s amazing work in CodePen. I’ve also watched enough DC Animated Universe to be able to instantly recognize Kevin Conroy’s voice — if you’re looking for even deeper nerd cred, Masaaki Yuasa is a seriously underrated animator.

However, I try to not overly rely on animation as a web professional. There’s a number of factors as to why:

First is simply pushing on awareness of the concerns outlined earlier, as many are unaware they exist. Animation has such a crowd-pleasing gee-whiz factor to it that it’s often quickly accepted into a product without a second thought.

Second is mitigating risk. Not adhering to the Web Content Accessibility Guidelines (WCAG) — including provisions for animation — means your inaccessible website or web app becomes a legal liability. There is now legal precedent for the websites and web apps of private companies being sued, so it’s a powerful metric to weigh your choices against.

Third is user experience. With that gee-whiz factor, people tend to forget that being forced to repeatedly view that super-slick animation over and over again will eventually become a tedious chore. There’s a reason why we no longer make 90s-style loading screens (content warning: high-contrast strobing and flickering, Flash, mimes). If you need a more contemporary example, consider why Netflix lets us skip TV show intros.

Fourth is understanding the lay of the land. While prefers-reduced-motion is getting more support, the majority of it is on desktop browsers, and not mobile. We’re not exactly a desktop-first world anymore, especially if you’re in an underserved community or emerging market. A mobile form factor also may exacerbate vestibular issues. Moving around while using your device means you may lose a fixed reference point, unlike sitting at a desk and staring at a monitor — this kind of trigger is similar to why some of us can get seasick.

The fifth factor is a bit of a subset of the fourth. Animation eats device data and battery, and it’s important to remember that it’s the world wide web, not the wealthy Western web. The person using your service may not have consistent and reliable access to income or power, so you want to get to know your audience before spending their money for them.

The ask

Not everyone who could benefit from prefers-reduced-motion cares about accessibility-related content, so I’d love to see the media query start showing up in the code of more popular sites. The only real way to do this is to spread awareness. Not only of the media query, but more importantly, understanding the nuance involved with using animation responsibly.

CSS-Tricks is a popular website for the frontend industry, and I’m going to take advantage of that. If you feel comfortable sharing, what I would love is to describe what kinds of animation have been problematic for you, in either the comments or on Twitter.

The idea here is we can help build a reference of what kinds of things to be on the lookout for animation-wise. Hopefully, with time and a little luck, we can all help make the web better for everyone.

Thanks to Scott O’Hara, Zach Leatherman, Shell Little, and Geoff Graham for reviewing this article.

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