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#this will not make sense for most people and that is fine
lettersofalover · 3 days
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-> adore you | paige b
paige x black!fem!college!athlete reader
genre: fluff
authors note: she’s for the girls and yall go together. read bad
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from the moment you woke up in your hotel room next to paige until now, about to step on to the espy’s red carpet, you were anxious. you were a famous athlete in your own regard but the spotlight had never quite been on you the way it was now - helping team usa win gold, setting a personal record and a uconn record, all while being in a loving private relationship with paige. everyone knew but nobody told. the athletes at uconn had each others backs and without a doubt, paige had yours. she popped candy into her mouth mindlessly as you got your hair and makeup done in the chair. “when you get on stage, not if but when,” she said matter of factly, “there’s going to be a countdown. don’t pay it any mind. just say what you want. literally, whatever. except curse words, they’ll fine conn for that.”
you couldn’t help having paige’s voice echo through your head, somehow drowning out the noise of the photographers. it was already a sunny day in california and the size of lights made you struggle to keep your eyes open. paige was coming behind you and suddenly all the photographers focus was on the both of you. the speculation had always been there, but there wasn’t any concrete proof. paige shot you a big smile and an awkward thumbs up and you covered your mouth to laugh. the shouts of the photographers were so deafening you couldn’t make out what they were saying until paige approached you and locked her fingers with yours: “they want us to take photos together.” she whispered in your ear before dropping your hand. the moment her hand left yours, the comfort was lost.
“just focus on something in the distance.” she whispered and wrapped an arm around you gingerly. you leaned into her touch, thankful to have her by your side. the contrast of your outfits made for a subtle declaration of your relationship. as the moments passed of you switching between a wide smile and a soft one, paige stopped the photographers for a moment and stood in front of you.
“what?” you mumbled, scared that you had done something wrong. did you look too cozy? was it obvious that you were dating? you were beginning to breath harder as paige reached up to fix your hair.
“wait let me fix your hair.” she mumbled, with her eyes focused on your delicately designed hairstyle. she was taking the job of fixing you so seriously that she had her tongue slightly out of her mouth in the process. “i think i got it,” she said turning away but immediately turned back, “one last thing, hold on.” she smiled and twirled of on the curls around her finger and it immediately came back to life.
“good?” you asked and the flutter of lights and the shutters of cameras began again. paige grasped your forearms and nodded.
“you look stunning.” she said loud and proud before facing the photographers once more.
they didn’t sit you with paige and it depleted your spirit. you kept calm conversation with the people surrounding you - a few athletes, an executive board member from uconn and other old men who were keen on getting you to explain your tennis career and why you hadn’t gone professional yet.
“i love uconn, my family is there, my team is there, even my girl- my best friend is there.” you corrected yourself. they all nodded in understanding but one of the more assertive man said, “you know college is always there. you should go while you’re still in your prime. you can get the money and find a nice husband while you do so.” he sipped his champagne with a smile that was confident - as if he gave you the most precious bit of information to skyrocket your career.
“i didn’t come to school to get my mrs. degree.” your voice was laced with snark. men like him wanted nothing but money as their main objective. it was never about the passion. as if she could sense the solemn energy radiating off of you, paige walked to the table and began introducing herself. they fawned over her for a few minutes and you were able to still your beating heart for a few moments. once paige spoke them all, she made it to you and dropped onto the balls of her feet next to your chair.
“you’re up next, yeah?” she said, her glimmering eyes scanning your face. “remember: go at your own pace, don’t let them freak you out.” paige squeezed your hand three times, saying “i love you.” it was a code you two developed when you first started dating. it was a way to express the love you shared subtly.
“you got this.” she said as she rose to her feet and said her goodbyes.
“what a nice young lady.” one of the gentleman said, watching her walk away.
“she’s amazing.” you agreed as the lights dimmed and the first presenter walked to the stage.
you couldn’t believe it was you who won national women’s college athlete of the year. you couldn’t move from your seat for a long while, hands covering your face ready to swipe the tears that were pouring down your perfectly made up face. you stood from your seat and held the bottom of your dress, walking slowly and as steady as you could. the yelling behind you was a roar of applause and shouts of your name from your fellow uconn student athletes and the loudest of them - was your girlfriend, paige. you stood at the stairs for a moment, unsure of your balance in the heels that adorned your feet. before you knew it, paige’s hand was in yours, helping you up the steps. she squeezed your hand three times and you smiled at her once you finally made it on stage. she shot you another cheesy thumbs up and the audience laughed.
the microphone was louder than you expected as you loosed a breath. your eyes scoped the audience, looking for that familiar face. everyone was in their seats, except paige. she was recording you and your acceptance speech and it was adorable.
“gosh,” you said looking down at the trophy before back up, “i don’t even know where to begin. i never thought my journey as an athlete would bring me to this moment. i was just a little girl years ago, watching uconn athletes and dreaming to be where they were. to stand alongside the greats and be in the arena where they existed. i never, ever,” you sniffled and wiped at your tears, “expected to be a part of uconn the way that i am now. i never knew love like this existed until uconn became my life. i have a thank you list that’s a mile long - so i’ll spare you all,” you laughed and the audience followed, “there are not enough words to describe the family and love i found while being an athlete at uconn. to my people, i love you and to my girlfriend, i adore you. thank you for believing in me and thank you for all those tough training sessions where you kicked my ass - it got me this trophy!.” you laughed and the crowd erupted in applause once more and you could’ve sworn that your girlfriend paige, was the loudest.
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paigebueckers: after party with my girl, my national women’s college athlete of the year. she learned it all from me. so proud of her.
kkarnold: she’s really that girl
azzifudd: the dress is stunning just like her
paigefan1: so happy for yall 🥺
paigefan2: my heart, i cannot take it anymore
paigefan3: she’s so in love with her and i love it
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concreteangel92 · 1 day
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Be careful what you wish for
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Noah Sebastian x female reader
18+
Warnings: Cum play, mentions of spanking, dom/sub relationship, slight humiliation kink and degradation kink (not too heavy) male masturbation, just Noah being a typical brat tamer
So this is kinda filthy even for me ahaha but it’s not massively detailed as it’s a head canon styled piece but I am working on proper detailed works as we speak so hopefully I will get those out soon.
This actually started as an idea from the other fic I’m writing but it didn’t fit into that scene properly so I decided to make it a separate piece so the thought wasn’t wasted haha and fyi the story I’m currently writing has definitely been inspired by the new tour content, that’s absolutely feeding me right now 🥵
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•You’ve been playing up all day and winding Noah up in front of people when he’s been working
•Just genuinely being a brat because you found it funny that day
•That’s fine but Noah would 100% punish you for it when you’re alone
•You’d be face down on the counter, underwear round your ankles while counting each spank he delivers
•But what’s one more dig?
•”That the best punishment you got? I’m getting bored of it now”
•Those spanks would instantly stop
•”Is that so?”
•Oh yeah, he’s pissed now
•You’d feel Noah’s grip on your hip tighten and hear the sounds of his trousers hitting the ground
•”Spread your legs”
•Noah would have a deeper growl in his voice, clearly not impressed with your attitude, but that’s ok, he’s happy to take it up a notch just teach you a lesson
•You’d feel his fingers scissor you open with a dark chuckle “bored are we? Do you want to tell that to your dripping cunt”
•That would most definitely pull a low moan from you, now Noah loves dirty talk, but to be that vulgar is very rare, even for him
•You could feel movement behind you and hear the sounds of him groaning and skin slapping on skin
•”So my punishments aren’t good enough eh?…” You could hear his words get caught in his throat, you knew he was touching himself behind you, his other hand now not leaving your hip
•”Well lucky for you…shit….I’ve got the perfect punishment for your cocky little attitude”
•You’d keep your head on the counter, pussy aching to be touched but you know that’s not going to happen any time soon
•“Did I forget to mention….that the guys will be here…any….any minute for the afternoon?”
•Noah hadn’t mentioned that they were all coming round for a gaming afternoon, you suddenly felt a sense of fear at what he had planned
•Noah’s groans became louder as he sped up his pace, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer
•”fuck..I’m gonna cum”
•You’d feel him release onto your heated core, Noah would quickly bring your underwear back up and press the material into your folds, making sure not to let any of his juices slip out down your thighs
•You’re eyes would go wide, a choked moan escaping your lips as you now knew what his punishment was, it felt so wrong and dirty but fuck me were you turned on
•You’d hear Noah fix his clothes and then he’d grab you by your throat, bringing your back onto his chest so he could talk into your ear
•”let’s see how cocky you are walking round with my cum in your pants, and don’t think you can run away and hide baby. You’re going to sit with us until I say otherwise, is that clear?”
•”I’m in a dress, what if it…slips out?”
•You’d receive a hard smack to your ass and then Noah turned you around so he could stare down at you
•”You should have thought about that before you decided to be a brat and telling me that my punishments are boring”
•Noah grips your chin and gives you a hard kiss
•”Be careful what you wish for baby”
•That’s the moment you’d both hear keys in the door and the guys walking in with pizza boxes, Noah pulling your dress back into place and stepping away from you
•You’d do your best to walk normally and act all innocent when everyone started chatting, trying to sit without anything ‘leaking’
•Your cheeks would have a permanent blush for the afternoon
•All the while, that cocky smirk never left Noah’s lips as he stalked your every move
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absolutebl · 10 hours
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This Week in BL - Lesbians WIN & I'm excited about a Thai BL again!
Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.
April 2024 Wk 4
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Ongoing Series - Thai
My Stand-In (Thai Fri iQIYI) ep 1 of 12 eps - Adaptation of Chinese novel Professional Body Double by Shui Qiang Cheng. Stars Up (Lovely Writer) and Poom (Bake Me Please) directed by the same team as KP (not a recommendation IMHO - my biggest criticism of KP was the clashing directing styles). The MDL description made it sound complicated af but actually it's not so bad. In fact it's GOOD.
Stuntman Joe dies on the job and wakes up in the body of another Joe who has an entirely different life. But our Joe just gets his new body right back into his old existence, full of friends, enemies, and one troublesome ex. Poom is absolutely killing it in the lead. Mek is perfectly cast as the Actor du Jerk. I’m not sold on Up’s bratty brokenhearted rich kid... yet. The show though, I like it. I like a one (two) night stand starting things off and I like a lot of morally gray characters. Fun fun!
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Deep Night (Thurs iQiyi) ep 8fin - The lesbian moms are the cutest thing in the world and my favorite thing this week. Bar none.
Summation:
It's about a host club and all the gay boys in it and some stuff that's not important because... PEOPLE OF EARTH WE HAVE A HONEST REP OF POLY IN A BL. Stand up and raise your hands in prayer to the Thai BL gods because sure as shit no one else was ever going to give this to us. For that alone this show gets 8/10 from me. Bonus Lesbian moms and great kisses.
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Two Worlds (Thurs iQIYI) ep 7 of 10 - Say what you want about MaxNat all these years that they've been paired makes them great onscreen boyfriends. And you know me, I'm a total sucker for linguistic negotiation. Makes my heart go all mushy. That said, now that the leads are together, I’m really uninterested in all the drama around the ex-boyfriend/triangle. I'm glad this is only 10 eps.
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1000 Years Old (Thurs iQIYI) ep 11 of 12 - They gave me the tiniest teaser for the kinky vampire BL that I have wanted my whole life. And now I'm just fucking annoyed with the rest of the show. 
We Are (Weds iQIYI) ep 3-4 of 16 - Q & Toey are the only interesting thing going on. I actually didn’t like this pair in My School President, but I’m enjoying them here. The others are all fine but these two have my heart. I have questions like: did Phum ever get his shopping bags back? And why is Phum driving a different colored car half way through the ep?
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Only Boo! (Sun YouTube) ep 3 of 12 - The quality is good (it’s GMMTV) but the acting is... not. Still I loved that Moo just made the confession for both of them. Very in character. Does this plot remind anyone else of Footloose? Just me? Side couple was cute but now a bit too stalker for me. 
Ongoing Series - Not Thai
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Unknown (Taiwan Tues YouTube & Viki) ep 10 of 12 - It’s fantastic. Such a great show. We are so lucky. This is basically Taiwan’s The Eights Sense. I didn’t know they had it in them, but I’m really glad that they did.
Living With Him AKA Kare no Iru Seikatsu (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 3 of 10 - As JBL’s go this is way more my speed (than Alaska). It’s just so sweet and awkward but charming about it. The confession was so earnest. 
Blue Boys (Korea YouTube) 2 of ? No MDL link - It’s very sexy this one. Not sure what Korea thinks it's doing, but I’m not mad about it. 
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Gray Shelter (Korea Thurs iQIYI) ep 5fin - summation: About a slacker nursing a crush on the (brief) older stepbrother who abandoned him. Upon finding him again he moves in with him, upends the mans lost suffering life. A dark gritty piece with confusing subs making it too chewy to really grok. It's trying to do too much for its length. The tension is real and the acting is good, it's just everything else stymied clean execution of the core concept. Frankly I spent this show expecting (and wanting them) to just fall into bed together - in a kind of desperate fight sex. It didn’t happen, and I’m disappointed by the non-ending we got. (Whether it’s going to have more in the series or not.) 7/10 I'm open to changing the rank if a part two fixes this one's flaws.
Boys Be Brave AKA Roommates (Korea Thurs Viki) ep 1-2 of 8 - Oh dear. Terrible hair. Jock nerd pairing. OCD baby cakes. Cohabitation trope. Killer side couple. Def unhinged. 
At 25:00 in Alaska AKA 25 Ji Akasaka de (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 2 of 10 - I’m still genuinely not sure about this one. It’s just a little too awkward for me in the wrong way. I expect all Japanese BL to have a certain aura of awkwardness so I don’t know what it is about this one turnign me off. I do enjoy that we’re getting both stories, the one between the actors, and a little bit of the roles that they’re playing on screen but... yeah
Love is like a Cat (Korea Mon Viki) eps 7-8 of 12 - The leads finally had a moment but there is negative chemistry. Why am I watching this? 
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It's airing but...
Lady Boy Friends (Thai WeTV grey) 16 eps - reminds me a bit too much of Diary of Tootsies only high school. Not my thing. DNF unless it turns a corner and is truly amazing.
Memory in the Letter (Thai WeTV) - 6 eps, when it's done, tell me if I should bother?
In case you missed it
Kiseki Chapter 2 (Sun iQIYI) 6 eps - finished its run but I won't be finishing it. Stays dropped.
GMMTV announced the second half of their 2024 line up. I got excited and picked my favorites, details + trailers here. Basically my ranking is:
The Heart Killers
ThamePo
Revamp
Sweet Tooth
Perfect 10 Liners
The Ex-Morning
Ossan’s Love Thailand
Next Week Looks Like This:
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What happened?
Knock-Knock Boys (Thai WeTV) - 4 college friends conspire to help their friend lose his virginity. Familiar faces like Seng (yes, Billy's previous pairing) and Best, news here. But will it actually air this month?
Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENT
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I have adopted him. He is MINE. I love him, your honor. (The Stand In)
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I love them SO MUCH. (Deep Night)
(Last week)
Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.
The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire
If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will add you to the template. Easy peesy.
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comfortless · 3 days
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this thought has been running around in my head for weeks and your König hcs are my favorite… so here i go
what icks do you think our König has? ik he may consider himself to fall in the “beggars can’t be choosers” category but i am just so curious… 🤔
FAVORITE?! 💞 you are so correct about the “beggars can’t be choosers” mentality. König is very much aware of how other people tend to view him as some creepy, stupid brute. i think that there is certainly a lot that bothers him, mostly attributed to his past, but none of it is an actual dealbreaker in any sense. you’re likely to be met with a cold shoulder and a bit of trust diminished at most. the majority of his “icks” are just him picking up on red flags. the gross or awkward things are just cute to him!
A very “vapid” approach to interests and such is going to make him concerned. König does not understand trends, or liking something simply because someone else does. He equates keeping up with pop culture and fashion as being similar to the children that tortured him in the past (So: popular kids with popular hobbies). Authenticity is held in high regard here. The stranger and more alienated that you are, the more compatible and similar you two may be in his mind.
This said, König would go feral seeing you in one of those pretty dresses or outfits that are all the rage. Dressing like a cute milkmaid for a picnic date, playing some sweet love song for him that you may have picked off a viral video, etc. He’s not exactly in touch with these things so he’s no proper judge or jury here.
Being too pushy. There’s a fine line there that’s not to be crossed. He much prefers playing the role of a leader rather than being a submissive follower. He’ll boast about being your devotee, worship like a dog at your feet, but he likes to feel in control of the relationship and what goes on within it.
He’ll never tell you directly that yes, his anxiety will be gnawing at his guts if you plead with him to come along with you to a commonly crowded mall, and expects that a simple rejection should suffice. It’s likely he would keep hushed about the fact that your frustrated pleading actually turns him on, too.
Being unnecessarily cruel. The man gets cruelty, he’s paid in abundance for it. But women should be sweet and soft. If you’re talking poorly about another person, using words like “ugly” or a slur of some kind, how are you any better than some bully? It does not matter that the victim can not hear you speaking about them, what matters is that he can. It would send him into a spiral of thinking that each time you two have had an argument, you’re likely cruelly chattering about him to your friends afterward.
Yet… he is very much the type to shoot an inept employee a glare and make demands. He will call his fellow operators all sorts of things when he returns from a mission gone wrong. König is the king of double standards here.
By extension, dogging him/his work/his interests is sure to bother him. König likes to believe that he’s done the work to make himself more pleasing now: trained his body through the military to give himself the stature women seem to drool over, covers what he can of his face when it’s socially acceptable so that others don’t harp on an unpleasant glimpse, even thinks of himself as some sort of chivalrous gentleman (very easy to do so as no one gets a peek at what goes on in his mind). His work, not therapy, is where he gets to blow off steam in a justifiable, honorable way. Sure, he’s got some dorky, juvenile interests, but they’re things that he enjoys.
Talk of previous relationships/sex would immediately make his blood boil! Even if it’s said to assure him that he’s better than a former lover. He’s just very jealous and if he were to be blunt, he would tell you he is addicted to the relationship and doesn’t want to think of anyone else ever having what he does currently. It’s best not to mention any past you may have had unless you care to answer a series of questions. “Were they better in bed?”… “Full name?” … “When did you last see them?”
Ironically, if you already have children, he would absolutely adore the stepdad role. It’s not so much as a challenge, then, only the glee that comes with getting to play savior for more than one person.
Infidelity. Whether in a past relationship or in a current one with him. The thought of you ever cheating on him, emotionally or physically, would tear him apart. Something as simple as a fantasy of wanting two or more men to serve you is filed messily in his brain with this, too. Same with you confessing to finding another man attractive, whether a celebrity, someone entirely fictional, or even some random civilian padding by on the sidewalk. All of that counts as some minute form of infidelity to König. He does not share.
He’s guilty of threesome fantasies, guilty of staring down a woman that he finds attractive… he just doesn’t act on these things, holds his tongue and huffs that he certainly wasn’t looking and would never want to fuck any one other than you. It does not really occur to him that those things are normal, especially in long term relationships.
Bear in mind that this is all from a man who almost entirely lacks shame. He’s comfortable with himself now (somewhat). He has no qualms with chewing the skin around his fingernails when he’s stressed out, picking his nose in front of you, shitting with the bathroom door wide open, or talking with his mouth full when he’s just that engaged in a conversation. I think it’s only fair to include some of the things he does that may be repulsive!
Absolutely clueless when it comes to seeing you cry. He has no idea how to comfort someone properly as he never really had that. His solution seems to be hovering over you and asking a thousand questions or just draping himself over you and letting your arms curl over him for comfort.
Would kiss you with his eyes open. Not his fault that you’re so pretty and he doesn’t want to miss a moment of it. Not always, but once is bad enough.
Would absolutely send you an “I miss you” text the day after your first date. Will also tell you that he’s in love with you the first time you have sex.
Will get hyperfixated on historical weapons and will absolutely purchase some rusted, ancient relic without telling you beforehand. It gets well polished and loved, then displayed on your living room wall.
Loves talking about his kills. He’s proud, because if there’s one thing that he’s good at it’s knowing where to shoot or stab or punch. He knows to hold his tongue about the more grisly details around someone delicate, but more often than not he is prone to slip-ups.
Will use your toothbrush without asking.
Thinks he’s very skilled and very cool because he can trim up any overgrown facial hair with a pocket lighter. It is not cool. There’s a razor and shaving cream right there. He may not burn himself, but it’s not exactly pleasant to have your bathroom smelling of burned hair.
Does not have a lick of fashion knowledge. Plain t-shirts, jeans, combat boots, maybe a belt if he cares to bother with it at most. At the least, when he’s at home, you can expect him to indulge in some nudist fantasy because it’s unlikely he will bother to wear a thing. Maybe socks.
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bicheetopuff · 11 hours
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(Ch. 336)
You know, this panel has always made me a little curious. Every other time we saw Izuku sparring with Katsuki (before the war started at least), he’d use blackwhip to defend himself, hence ‘catch-a-kacchan’ so I found it weird how Izuku didn’t even try to grab Katsuki. For like 100 chapters prior to this, he used blackwhip for everything and would eventually just leave it out incase he needed it quickly kinda like how Hawks utilized his feathers (when he had them) so I kinda just made a mental note about how weird it was that Izuku chose to evade instead of defend when he easily could’ve.
I also found it weird how quickly Izuku wanted to change the topic along with the distress on his face. I thought it was just a cheap and ooc way of explaining Todoroki’s new power quickly but, since it’s now confirmed that Izuku has PTSD about Katsuki’s sacrifice, what if Katsuki’s cluster move triggers that trauma response too?
The next time we see cluster used with Izuku present, Izuku actually does respond with blackwhip.
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(Ch. 404)
He doesn’t use it in defense though, he uses it in almost possessive way by securing their hands together with it. But also, he doesn’t speak for this entire chapter. It could be explained away by the side effect of using gearshift and him not being able to breath but before now, he’s been more focused while in distress and was also speaking just fine before. Though, in these panels, and through the entire chapter, he seems almost delirious and in shock. He’s not even reacting to the lack of oxygen anymore.
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He even starts ignoring Shigaraki in these moments. He’s stunned and mesmerized but now I’m starting to question whether he’s amazed or scared out of his mind for what might happen. With that uncertainty, all that I can say confidently is that he’s distracted.
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(Season 7 ep. 4)
Arguably after chapter 404, he stops thinking straight and, honestly, gets a little sloppy. A few chapters after this, is when gets danger sense stolen and starts getting truly injured. He makes the decision to give away OFA and loses his arms. He reverts right back into his “I don’t care what happens to me” mentality that his class has been trying to get him to grow out of for a while.
He wasn’t mentally prepared for something to go wrong in this fight. He wasn’t mentally prepared to be pulled away, leaving Katsuki with Shigaraki. I thought it was just iffy writing that he’d mentally regress after Katsuki woke up instead of before but, it honestly makes a lot more sense now. He cared about what happened to himself because he needed to stay alive to ensure Katsuki’s revival. Once Katsuki woke up and he watched him fight AFO, he started being reckless again. He went back to viewing himself as nothing but a vessel for OFA because he believes OFA is the only thing that can beat AFO, hence why he trusted the vestiges when they said “we can fight him from the inside” (which I think was a silly decision. It’s noble in theory but it amounted to nothing because Izuku can’t win in this regressive state of self sacrifice anymore. Or at least, he shouldn’t since it’s such a big part of his arc.).
And now, with the most recent chapter with most of his classmates present it seems like he’s regretting that decision because he’s being reminded that people care about him. They showed up to support him regardless of already being hurt because he can’t win on his own. Eri mutilated herself to help him and if that doesn’t tell him that fighting without the intent of not dying is stupid, idk what will.
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(Ch. 421)
He was about to just throw himself back into the fight with the same mindset as before if Aizawa didn’t stop him. He looks frustrated because he realizes the weight of what he’s been doing and how looking up to AM and the previous vestiges shouldn’t be his role models right now considering all of their fates. He’d just be continuing OFAs curse like Katsuki’s been worried about for a hundred something chapters.
In conclusion, this post was very unfocused but I can’t wait to see Izuku kick ass and for Katsuki to show back up because with the impact he’s had on Izuku, I DESPERATELY need them to talk. Most of this post may have very well been a stretch but, let me be delusional please.
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dumbfucksystem · 2 days
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imagine if the shen family was actually a part of the mafia. and shen yuan just never knew.
like his Family is rich and they are all super close. he’s even in contact with some of his distant relatives pretty often, which is kinda cool for him, he’s sure that this isn’t the case for most families so he considers himself lucky to know the extent of his family tree. sure, some of them seem to have lost a marble or two but what family doesn’t have a couple oddballs in their midst, you know?
and its not just sy’s comical obliviousness that contributes to this. his family is well aware that sy is not suited for this life style- especially his siblings. they grew up watching him get himself into all sorts of weird situations and putting himself at a disadvantage simply because he’s too nice. he can try and deny it all he wants (just like how he denies he’s gay- c’mon sy everyone can tell you are not straight) but his sense of justice would only burden him if he were to work for the Family. not to mention his sense of self preservation is absolute shit and they don’t want to have to babysit him his whole life- and he probably doesn’t want that either!
so they send him off to college, help him find an apartment, and basically do everything they can to help him start off on his own, away from the Family. his siblings had to do a whole lot of convincing to let this happen btw- this kind of thing usually isn’t allowed, but sy doesn’t know anything that could be used against the Family, so they make an exception in his case. better for them to not have a deadweight sticking around either is what they say but they all dote on him anyways and refuse to admit they care about him. sy definitely picked up this line of reasoning from them btw.
shen yuan is a little upset and confused that his Family seems eager to send him off (it’s not like they can’t afford for him to live with them after all- both of his older brothers still live in the Family’s massive house and even his aunts and uncles are living there??). he manages to recover quickly though. at least now he can read his web novels in piece without prompting any dick jokes (his cousins had a field day when they found his account with all of his pidw comments…). now he just needs to figure out how to live by himself.
it’s not that sy is incapable of taking care of himself- it’s just that he’s so used to having other people with him that he never understood how much they were doing for him until they were no longer around. but that’s fine, living on your own is just another learning curve and sy is willing to rise up to the challenge. which he did, by the way! he found a job and pays his taxes and even though that isn’t much he still gives himself a mental pat on the back for it. he is still in contact with his siblings, he never misses an update for pidw which he totally doesn’t get excited for and his life is going great.
……until he accidentally eats some expired food and dies.
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cripplecharacters · 2 days
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Salutations! I’m in the process of creating a story wherein both characters are missing an eye. One has a prosthetic, but is presently isolating themself in the woods, and wears an eyepatch to protect the eye while alone; the other’s socket is either empty, or they have a glass eye with no actual details (iris, pupil, etc.). I’ve struggled to find references for the latter, and fear it may come off as unrealistic. I understand prosthetic eyes keep the eyelid from collapsing, but aside from that could a person just not wear one? If these options are unrealistic, please let me know. I can supply you with concept art if need be.
The story itself centers around these characters after one of them finds the other by accident. They’re painted as foils—the one hiding out in the cabin adhering to a self-made sense of logic that centers on cycles and confirmation bias, while the only who takes refuge there after running away is deeply paranoid and prone to hallucinations. The first character is missing their left eye; the other their right. I don’t want to make a symbol of their disabilities, but I feel their designs simultaneously stress their opposing perspectives, as well as the fact they paradoxically still manage to see “eye-to-eye.” Their visual impairment is just one of many ways they’re able to connect across the story, as they also bond over their obscure passions and delusions, and respect each other’s warped worldview to such an extent said worldviews start to blur together. In addition to this, the story places an emphasis upon an entity known as the “ocellus,” which is basically the “false eye” you see on moth wings. In my outline so far, it’s the name of a mysterious band which the pair discover in a record collection, and resolve to solve the mystery of (regarding the members, music, etc.) One of the characters also sleeps with an eye mask with the pattern of moth wings and their respective ocelli overlaying their own eyes; their paranoid counterpart also sees eyes in the trees and wood of the cabin.
Absolutely none of this is set in stone; before it is, I just want to know how much of it is fine, which parts “moralize” or make a symbol of a disability, and what is straight-up ableist. Please let me know if you need more details.
Hi!
The prosthetic eye has two main functions: 1) to keep the eye area stay in shape, 2) to protect the socket. Both of these can be achieved by conformers (it's like a big contact, except it goes into the socket and not on the eye) which I talked about here!
A blank prosthetic eye would probably be fine. The process of getting it custom painted is expensive from what I know, and IRL a lot of people will decide on the generic kind rather than a custom. If in your world the generic happens to be a blank, there's no problems I can think of? Potentially, you could explicitly say that it's not how most prosthetic eyes look like (maybe someone else knows a person with an eye prosthetic and they comment that it's unusual?). You mentioned that the character doesn't have it in all the time, so I don't think the trope of "blind character has blank/white/milky eyes" applies here because it's clear that it's a prosthetic.
A person could decide to go bare, but the sensation of blinking could be uncomfortable, and they would need to clean their socket more to get rid of anything that could get inside. Normal saline could be used for that.
I don't think there's an issue in them missing different eyes at all. If you want to make sure it's not giving "Just Magic Symbolism" energy then you could incorporate some boring everyday things that would make sense. If they go somewhere together, they could decide to walk missing eye-to-missing eye, so that they see what's going on the sides rather than in the middle, things like that. It could make it feel more grounded, so to speak.
I don't see any issues with the moth fake-eyes symbolism either, I think it makes sense for the story you're trying to tell.
If you want to be very safe, I would have a character (can be minor, or background) that's also missing eye(s) that's not connected to any of the potential symbolism and is more of an average Joe of Not Having an Eye.
In case you decide to get into that, it would be nice for them to have different causes of why they don't have eyes. It feels like in fiction it's always physical trauma, but there's a whole more that could cause someone to not have an eye;
anophthalmia,
retinoblastoma,
severe eye infection,
elective enucleation (removal) of an already blind/painful eye,
just to give you a few ideas! Giving them "boring" everyday reasons of eye loss will also make it feel less symbolic and more like a regular disability. Think "dramatic swordfight with Huge Meaning" vs "yeah I had cancer in my eye when I was 2".
I hope that this helps; if you have any further details you'd like to ask about feel free to send another ask!
mod Sasza
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luizd3ad · 2 days
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Game Time | Poly!Bartylus x GN!Reader One shot
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷
Pairing: Barty Crouch Jr x GN Reader x Regulus Black
WC: 700
TW: polyamorous relationship, Modern AU, light talks about killing Sims, no use of Y/N, this is just fluff
Author's Note: Honestly I just got this idea bc my sims hyper fixation is coming back. The little bit of French that’s in here I got from google please tell me if it’s wrong.
Summary: Regulus comes home to you and Barty playing the sims.
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Someone tell me to stop making theses for ever fic please. I won't listen but someone should still tel me.
【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】
Regulus had spent the day with Sirius, just catching up. 
They've been finding it harder to do so since leaving Hogwarts so they try to make it a priority to see each other as often as possible. 
He did enjoy spending time with his brother but right now all he wanted to do was go home to his partners. 
You and Barty were like a breath of fresh air to him after his social battery was drained. Just being in the presence of both of you was enough to make him feel better. 
Regulus finally crossed the threshold to his shared flat. He took his shoes and jacket off at the entrance and put them in their designated places.
But then he noticed the flat was quiet which was rare considering Barty lived there.
“Mon amours? I’m home?”
Regulus called out looking around the flat curiously. 
No one was in the living room. He didn't hear anyone in the kitchen. 
He started walking down the hall that held their shared bedroom and the guest room/ office when he heard them.
“Angel, I love you but you're wrong!”
“Watch it Crouch! Or you'll end up in the basement next..”
Regulus was only slightly taken back when he heard his partner say that to their boyfriend. 
Honestly it wouldn't be the first time he heard them say something like that.
Barty then gasped and started shirking something about ��Never feeling so betrayed’ which was something Barty would say often. 
Regulus took a deep breath mentally preparing himself and then opened the door to the office, he couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle at the sight in front of him.
There they were, the loves of his life hunched over the computer playing the muggle game that Remus had shown them.
‘The Sims’ he thinks it was called, but he couldn't quite remember. 
“Barty.. Did you take the ladder out of the pool again?”
Barty then gasped as if the thought was inconceivable. 
“What would make you think such a thing, angel?”
“I mean other than the fact that you've done it before? The sim’s name is Bartemius Crouch and he looks exactly like your father.”
Barty then giggles looking proud of himself. 
“Leave him there he deserves it.”
Barty says with a wide smile.
Regulus chuckles a little louder this time and shakes his head finally catching the attention of his partners.
You and Barty both turn your heads to look at Regulus. 
You send him a big smile and say.
“Hi my love, how's Sirius?”
“Sirius is fine. Now what are you two doing?”
Regulus say still standing in the doorway of the room.
“I'm trying to show our darling boyfriend that there's more to The Sims than killing the people that you wish you could kill in real life.”
“And I'm trying to show our angel that killing people in the game is the most fun you can have.”
“Wait, so you make the characters people you actually know?”
You and Barty look at each other and then look at Regulus with raised eyebrows.
“Obviously.”
Barty says looking at Regulus like it should be common sense.
“Wait so you have a character of me?”
“Of course we do.”
You say then turning back to the computer clicking on the mouse a few times and then waving Regulus over to show him a big house with sims of the three of you.
“Is this supposed to be our house?”
“Yes. Unfortunately we’re not all technically dating on here, since that's not an option.”
You explain while Barty crosses his arms while pouting and saying.
“Which is stupid.” 
Regulus just smiles at Barty and kisses his head. 
“It’s okay ​mon beau because we’re dating in real life.”
Regulus says while running his hand through his boyfriend's hair.
You and Barty spent the rest of the night showing Regulus your favorite parts of the game. 
Regulus found himself having a good time whether it was just because he got to spend time with the two of you or because he actually found the game entertaining he didn't know nor did he care.
He was just content and happy to be there.
【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】
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munv · 5 hours
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𝗜𝗠𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗜𝗡 𝗘𝗦𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗦𝗬
𝗜𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗕𝗹𝘂𝗲 𝗟𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗜𝘁𝗼𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗦𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗲𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗷𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘆 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂? 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗴𝗼𝗮𝗹𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗶𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼?
I MISSED YOU GUYS SO MUCH MWAH MWAH MWAHH
P8
It was a wednesday, and the day was going perfectly fine, before you were called over into the principals office.
"Itoshi [name], please report to the office. Itoshi [name]" hushed whispers spread out throughout the classroom and in the midst of it your best friend leaned over from her seat to whisper in your ear. "psstt..did you piss someone off?" you turned around to face the girl before letting out  a sigh, "not that I know of..see you at lunch?'
"right!
Quickly, you made a beeline to the main office. The last thing you wanted to be was late, and then find out that you really did something wrong. The urge to crawl into a hole was all consuming not to mention, you mean, why the hell do these kids stare so much? They are such certified gossipers..
By the time you reach the office door you take a deep breath, this could either be your demise or your biggest accomplishment on the planet yet. There is no in between, only gratitude and pain. Raising a hand, you make a move to knock on the door. "Hello?". From within you could hear a voice call out in response, "come in!!" she yells out. 
Sounds like she's busy you guess. Might as well make this one quick.
Opening the door, you walked into the room to face the woman in front of you. She was pretty, sure, but she was mainly soft whenever she didn't need to be. It was unnecessary considering how unruly most of the kids in this school were. "Itoshi-san! there you are,." "yes, is there something you need from me ms?" it was better to get to the point rather than some small talk right?. "Right right, i've gotten a call from your parents and it seems like an emergency of some sort popped up. They want you home immediately."
An emergency?..Did the house burn down or something? But either way if this is an "emergency" then they must've already picked up Sae to go home. "thank you for having me ms, I'll go pack my bag now." You bowed your head a little before walking out the door. Making sure to close it behind you. 
What a pain..
First of all. What the fuck. 
There were some thoughts here and there as to what the so called emergency could be. With Sae tightly hanging on to you, basically squeezing the bloodstream out your hand in the process, there was no way to say that this wasn't reality. Your mother was pregnant, yes, it was very obvious from one glance. But to think that she would be having the baby TODAY? your own father was ready to pass out. 
The only thing that kept you grounded from running into that room was Sae. You weren't there for his birth now that you think about it, but what if someone bad happened? What if something happened to the baby? There have been some sorry instances that mothers made it but the baby didn't. If something happens to her, will your father really be able to take care of all three of you by himself? 
what happens if this turns out like your past life?
Everything feels like everything is spiralling down on you, and it takes common sense to realize that this isn't just a game, this is real. The life you are living right now is real, the people beside you are real, and so are you. This isn't just some fantasy you've had after death, this isn't paradise. Everything around you is living and breathing, and this might be your last shot at having a proper life. So no matter what happens you have to take care of your family. 
"nee-san."
A voice calls out to you. That's right. You have Sae, and he takes priority. You squeezed back his hand once again for the day. "I'm here, Sae." You assure him. "I know you are." he squeezes back with more force. 
"But does nee-san know that I'm here to?" This takes you by surprise and you can only turn to look at Sae with shock plastered on your face. "stop taking on everything yourself.." he mumbles. But you're still able to catch it. It feels nice to not be alone, you realize. Usually you would take on everything on your own and shoulder everyone, but even sometimes you need to take a break for yourself too.
"so..you DO know how to be kind?" you teased. "I was just comforting you, you rude bum!" "who taught you that?!" "YOU" "TO HELL I DIDN'T" "THEN TO HELL YOU GO"
From a distance your father watched with a small chuckle. "they never really change..do they?" he said shaking his head.
It was three hours before they sent a nurse into the waiting room to inform your family that your mother and baby were completely stable. They let your father into the room first before anything. It made you a little nervous now that you were really thinking about it, but to have siblings, and a real family above all else made you happy.
It was a while before the doctors let you and sae in but it was worth the wait. On your way to the room he made small talk with you. "How does it feel to be an older sister kid?" 
"It's a bit troublesome, but I think I can handle two of them." He then started to question Sae as well. "And how does it feel to have another boy in your family?" "lukewarm." 
The doctor sweatdropped in response. "alright.." You walked a bit more before arriving to the room your mother is in. "alright, we're here" he took the courtesey to open the door. Inside laid your mother in a hospital gown on the bed, and to behold, was something wrapped in cloth in her arms. 
Your father sat on the chair right to her bedside and waved you two over after watching the doctor leave. 
"the family seems to be complete huh?" he laughed out. 
  ITOSHI OMAKE
"why is it looking at me like that?" currently sae was looking at his newborn baby brother. "did I look like that okaasan?" 
Your mother let out a giggle at sae's cluelessness. "of course you did! you were the cutest baby!" she pulled on his cheeks a bit. "eugh..it looks weird."
"It's a bit odd how [name] never cried as a baby. Gave us a whole lot less work than expected." You sat on the bed directly next to your mother holding the baby. He didn't really open his eyes but you could tell it would be the trademark teal eyes. The eyelashes were already there anyways.
"Does he have a name yet?" you questioned. "Sadly no." your father sighed. "Your mother was out cold for a while so we're yet to name him anything." 
your mother hummed while playing with your hair, soon starting to braid it before someone spoke up. 
"Rin." 
all eyes turned to the second youngest Itoshi in question. "his name will be Rin." he said poking a finger at the baby. Rin looked at sae before holding onto his finger, a smile then broke out on both the Itoshi's faces. Your smile followed after. 
"alright then! its settled."
"welcome to the family little rin!" your mother announced. Laughter broke out into the room and you looked at your two younger brothers. "yeah..welcome rin."
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unicornsaures · 12 hours
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may I yap for a second?
The order of the questions of morals from Odysseus in monster makes sense
Why?
BECAUSE:
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First: he questions Polyphemus, which is all fine and dandy because cyclopses are viewed monsters and the questioning of the morals isn't too impactful.
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Then: Circe. It also makes sense since at first glance, she's doing wrong shit, but her actions are justified. She had been wronged, so she protects her nymphs from the harm she was put through
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Then: Poseidon. Which is intense. Because in ancient greece, the gods were above all, never to be questioned and always to be worshipped, never to be disrespected. Questioning one of the big 3 Gods is like Questioning the christian god up to the 16/1700s. (Presumably, idk)
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And last but not least: Odysseus himself. This is the most intense because he's a soldier who surely has killed and will kill the suitors. 108 men and more plus a baby he has killed without / with minor questioning. Questioning his morale and the justification of it is, for Odysseus, very intense because he killed people. He killed trojans. He will have killed the suitors. He killed a child.
ALSO!!!
Amrev Odyssey, the scene with Odysseus and his mom but it's Hamilton and his mom :3 think about that
LOVE THE YAPPING IN MY INBOX ALWAYS AND THIS IS SO?? /VPOS
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superprincesspea · 20 hours
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Courted by the Dragon
Chapter 15 - Forfeit
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Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.
Masterlist
~~~
When your mother and sisters break away to join the queen in the wheelhouse, you’re taken to the stable where the horse waiting for you is a chestnut mare with a little white patch between her eyes. 
“Flare,” the groom calls her, and she does not look pleased to see you. 
In fact, she snorts when you offer her your hand, her foot stamping on the hay, and you think the only thing worse than a long ride to the Kingswood, was to do it on a horse that already hated you. 
Still, it wasn’t really the riding you minded so much as the company, Aemond’s company to be precise, though you had not yet seen him. 
“Your saddle, my lady,” the groom says, interrupting your thoughts before presenting you with a fine brown side-saddle, its leather work embossed with dragons and ivy. 
“I shall be riding astride this morning,” you tell him, deciding there was no way you would ride an untested horse without the complete control of both your legs. 
“But this saddle is a gift from the Queen!” The groom retorts, looking completely aghast at your suggestion, his brow knitted and his words curt despite your rank. 
A gift? Surely not.  
Yet , the brass work is all shiny and new, the leather without cracks or marks to sully the pattern. But the most startling detail, which you’re not quite sure how you’d missed before, is the pommel, where the first letter of your name entwines with a dragon. 
For a gift, it’s certainly an extravagant one and hardly fitting for the third daughter of Borros Baratheon.  
You’ve never even had your own saddle before and refusal feels so awfully rude you hardly dare to say it, yet, if Alicent wanted you to travel to the Kingswood with the men, then you should be free to ride like one too.  
“That may be so,” you say, chin up, defiant , “but I shall be riding astride or not at all.”  
And to be perfectly honest, you didn’t want to be riding around on a lavish gift detailed for a Targaryen either.  
What would people think?  
What was Alicent thinking? 
“You heard the Lady,” Aemond’s voice causes you to start as he appears by your side, his presence enough to force the groom to submit to your wishes without another word.  
But you don’t thank him, you’re too busy trying not to think about how he���d asked you to marry him the last time you’d spoke. Yet you can think of little else. 
“This is the horse they have given you?” he says, his foot easing onto the bottom rung of the fence, his tone enough to confirm your fears.   
“Is there something wrong with her?” you ask, a sinking feeling pulling at your stomach. 
“Not if you enjoy unruly beasts.” 
You meet his eye, and a smile twitches at his lips before he glances over your shoulder. 
“Boy ,” he calls to the stable hand hovering in the background, “is there no other horse to saddle for the lady?” 
The boy shrugs, his attention darting around nervously before finally admitting, “the queen requested Flare personally , my prince.” 
“Hmm ,” Aemond’s jaw tightens, his finger drumming on the fence as the groom returns with a new saddle. This one black with yet more dragons.  
“Have my lady saddled on Ōños and I shall ride Flare,” Aemond tells him. 
“But -” the groom half protests, neither wanting to disobey his queen or his prince. 
“You'd rather my lady was thrown from the horse?” Aemond says, and it's not a question, his tone is sharp, commanding.  
Aemond gets what Aemond wants. 
“You need not switch horses with me,” you tell him, when the groom scurries away again, thinking you do not wish to have a prince of the realm thrown from a horse on your account. 
But he shrugs, unconcerned, “I am the superior rider, so it only makes sense for you to have the easier horse.” 
You can’t help but laugh, amused by the utter certainty of the words coming from his mouth and, even if you were quite sure they were true, it was such an arrogant thing to say that you felt compelled to refute it. 
“Tell me,” you say, eyes wide, “is there a reason his grace already considers himself superior when he has never even seen me ride?” 
“You have seen my dragon, yes ?” 
“Briefly , but this is not a dragon, it's a horse.” 
His eye slides to Flare then back to you, “I trained on horseback every day of my childhood before acquiring Vhagar then three times a week after that. How often do you ride, my Lady?” 
"Six times a week, when I am home,” you answer, with so much confidence you almost believe it. But you would not be bested yet again, and you were certainly no novice since your father, who’d always longed for sons, had insisted on frequent practice.  
A fresh smile quivers at Aemond's lips, his brow raised, "is that so? Then perhaps my lady will need to come to my aid when I am struggling to keep up with her?” 
You picture Aemond on a wild bucking horse and can’t help but laugh, “I must say, it shall be difficult to aid his grace if I am too busy making fun of him.” 
“Oh, I have no doubt in that regard, Lady Baratheon,” he says, seeming to almost enjoy the prospect, before the groom returns with the new horse, all saddled and ready, and certainly not what you expected. 
The horse Aemond had ridden at the tourney was a destrier, strong, fierce and entirely black. But this one is smaller, a palfrey perhaps, with a pure white coat and mane, so bright and unblemished, he almost looks as though he cannot be real. 
“What did you say his name was?” you ask, words formed with a gasp. 
“Ōños.” 
“Is that Valyrian?” 
“It means ‘Light’,” he answers, his hand pressing to your lower back, guiding you closer, “he was a name day present from my Grandsire when I was a boy.” 
“Hello Ōños,” you whisper, stretching your arm to offer him the scent of your hand and he nuzzles into you, allowing you to stroke the spot right between his big dark eyes.   
“You’re so beautiful,” you tell him, moving to pet his neck and run your fingers through the wiry bristles of his glossy mane. “And such a good boy...” you add, admiring him more with each pet, “so gentle... so calm...” 
“You offer more praise to this horse than you have ever given your prince,” Aemond says and you’re not sure if he’s scolding you or teasing you, as he moves to ensure your saddle is tight around Ōños waist. 
“Are there not ladies enough at court who praise his grace?” 
“None that matter .” 
“Very well ,” you say, clearing your throat as though your heart isn’t fluttering, “I believe my prince has the most wonderful horse.” Then you laugh, petting Ōños again, “or is that just further praise for you, sweet boy?” 
Aemond snorts and you look back at him with yet more laughter. 
“If my lady offers crumbs, I shall eat them heartily,” he says, extending his hand to help you mount. 
“I have no need for assistance,” you decide, thinking you were finding his company unbearable enough without the touch of his hand, as you take the reins and secure your foot in the stirrup. 
But Aemond grasps your waist to help you anyway. Easing you up and over, the skirt of your gown rising to the very top of your thigh with the motion, so you feel the coolness of the air as it hits the bare skin above your stocking. 
Gods . 
You look down, just in time with Aemond, who reaches eagerly for your hem, as though he is a gentleman.  
Yet , as he pulls the skirt back down the length of your leg, his progress is marked with the delicate touch of his fingers in a way that cannot possibly be accidental.  
Gods. Gods. Gods.  
He meets your frozen stare, his eye dark, and you should say something.  
Anything !  
But your breath is trapped in your chest, and you can only give thought to the almost unbearable rush of tingles which have hurried excitedly to some deep, unreachable place in your core. 
Then he smiles, and it's not a wicked smile, its content , satisfied , and you hate it, almost as much as you hate the way he takes hold of Ōños’ bridle, leading you out into the yard as though nothing is amiss.  
Yet, what was the alternative? For him to gloat? Or worse, for him to say one of the thoughts which seemed to race behind the look in his eye?  
You didn’t want that . What you wanted, was for you to say something. To react. To scold him. To remind him you were a Lady of house Baratheon and not to be treated as such.  
With all of this in mind, and the tingles subsided enough for you to breathe,  you shift forward in the saddle, so your words can reach him despite your hushed tone.  
“Do not imagine you can take such liberties with me again,” you say, and Aemond stops before he turns to look at you, his smile more wicked than you have ever seen it. 
“You give me little credit, Lady Baratheon, my imagination is far more creative than that.” 
You frown, not quite understanding his meaning, then understanding it all at once and your gasp is quickly followed by a glare.  
“If I told my father what you just did, he would have your hand!” 
“If you told your father,” he begins, the wicked look on his face turning decidedly smug, “he would give me your hand, and I’m quite willing to test the theory if you are, my lady?” 
He's right, of course , and that only adds more fuel to your temper, though in a yard brimming with people, you can only seethe in silence. Looking at anything but the prince as the morning sun beams down so pleasantly you could scream. 
Seven Hells!  
You’re beyond grateful when the groom arrives with Flare, providing you momentary relief from Aemond’s unwavering attention, as he moves to inspect his own saddle, before mounting her in one smooth motion which she does not take kindly to.  
She stomps in protest, and Aemond pulls at her reins, his hand on her neck, his words low and inaudible in the busy yard, as he gets her under control. 
“We should leave before everyone else,” he says when she has calmed, reaching for Ōños’ bridle again and pulling him in time with Flare. 
“We should wait,” you insist, glancing to where Ser Maurin is talking with some of the other men, none of them yet mounted on horseback. 
"And get stuck trudging through the droppings of a dozen horses all morning?”  
Your nose crinkles at the idea and, when Aemond smiles, you imagine he’s thinking something along the lines of, ‘that’s what I thought’ , as he continues to lead you towards the open gates. 
When you make it as far as the wheelhouse, you peek in through the slatted windows, catching just a glimpse of your sisters talking excitedly with the queen before Aemond releases your bridle and kicks his horse into a trot. 
But you don’t follow, you pull on the reins, stopping Ōños since you’re in little doubt that following Aemond will be a mistake. 
Yet, you can’t deny the part of you that wants to do it anyway. Because despite what you like to think about yourself, or honour and decorum, there’s a thrill to Aemond’s company that you find irritatingly compelling. 
Why was that? You wonder, thinking how safe and easy a ride would be with Tyland Lannister by your side. But he isn’t even invited, you realise now. It’s only your family, Aemond’s family and the guards.  
Drawing your hand across the reins, you half-heartedly tell yourself to turn back towards Ser Maurin, where you will be safe from any further improprieties or proposals of marriage, but that’s not what you do.  
Perhaps you can blame Ōños, who reacts quickly to even the slightest hint of pressure from your feet. But that would be a lie.  
It's your decision to chase Aemond, and Ōños is only too happy to gallop through the yard, as you were sure he’d done countless times before. And it's reckless to ride like this, with so many people in your path, but you seem to have left all common sense in the stable, so why stop now? 
You jump a cart filled with apples, overtaking Aemond’s lead, and he was right . You didn’t want to spend the morning trudging behind the wheelhouse. You wanted to fly, and the Kings Road stretches ahead with barely an obstacle in your path. 
Ōños, seeming to sense your excitement, picks up speed with little encouragement, dashing through the gates, his hooves pounding the earth so hard you can feel your hair slipping from its pins.  
Your horse at Storms End could never run like this , he’s far too old and far too lazy. But Ōños is so powerful he feels unstoppable, yet you must stop, knowing you will quickly leave the procession behind entirely if you keep going. 
You tighten your legs, pulling at his reins and he comes to a halt quickly, obediently, turning when you pull the rein again, so you can look back, and see that Aemond’s horse has barely run half the length of yours.  
Instead, she’s picking at the brambled hedges which flank part of the path and Aemond is trying desperately to coax her back into his command. 
You stifle your laughter, trotting closer. 
“Does his grace require my aid so soon?” you tease, more than a little pleased by the look of frustration on his face. 
Aemond bites back a grimace, his words laced with exasperation and spoken in High Valyrian as he pulls tightly on the reins. But Flare gives into his insistence at her own pace, taking one last bite of the sun ripened fruits before moving on. 
“Perhaps you should ride at the back of the procession after all?” you tease again, noticing the wheelhouse is now ambling its path through the gate. 
“Or perhaps I should abandon Flare with a squire, and we can ride pillion as I’m sure my mother intended?” 
“Ha ,” you scoff, your eyes narrowing with a dare which should not be coming from your lips, yet you’re feeling so pleased with the situation that it sneaks out anyway, “you’ll have to catch us first.” 
Aemond’s eye darkens, his hand snatching to grab your wrist before missing entirely, “is that a promise?” 
You don’t answer but you enjoy the adrenaline which pumps in your veins. Yet, why not enjoy it? For once, you’re the one with the upper hand and it feels good, you want to toy with him like he always toys with everyone else. 
Unable to contain your smile, you lead Ōños in a circle around Flare, careful to keep just out of reach before you kick him into another gallop which Aemond tries, but fails, to keep up with.  
Yet, as always, Aemond is not interested in losing. So, instead of chasing you for miles of road, he turns, heading back to the gold cloaks who are leading the procession before dismounting to switch horses with what looks like Ser Willis. 
His new horse is a deep hazelnut brown and much more obedient than Flare, so now the chase is really on, as he seems to fly towards you without any hesitation on the horse's part.  
“Come on,” you say excitedly to Ōños, adrenaline still beating in your veins as you kick him into action, charging down the road and leaving Aemond to race through clouds of dust instead of the ones you’re sure he’s more accustomed to. 
You keep your lead, all the way to where the road splits into a fork, and you’re forced to slow into a trot, unsure of which route to take. 
“Caught you,” Aemond says, grabbing Ōños’ bridle so he can pull you both towards him and you roll your eyes. 
“You didn’t catch us,” you tell him, allowing yourself to feel as smug as Aemond usually is, “I stopped.” 
“A promise is a promise, Lady Baratheon,” he tries to remind you, your horses turning in a tight circle to keep you together. 
“I don’t recall promising you anything .” 
His jaw tightens, frustrated, but his eye smiles, “you’ll deny your prince his reward?” 
“I’ll deny a cheater ,” you retort, nodding to the horse between his legs, “you were supposed to be riding Flare.” 
He releases Ōños’ bridle, a long breath blowing through his nose, “I did not wish to lose.” 
“Nor have you won.” 
He laughs, his gaze scraping across your lips, “how about a race then? First to the camp shall choose a forfeit for the loser.” 
You scoff, feeling a little uneasy at the prospect.  
You were already too far ahead of the wheelhouse and feeling quietly certain that there would have been some raised brows at the way you and Aemond had raced ahead of the procession. 
Yet, that’s not what you say, or what’s really holding you back, “I do not know the route.”  
“It’s only one road from here to camp and Ōños has done it a hundred times.” 
You give him a pointed look, “as have you .” 
Aemond bites back whatever expression wants to grace his face, “you’re afraid I’ll win? You have the better horse.” 
If you refuse him, it would be as good as admitting you thought he was the superior rider after all, and you were not about to do that . “I’m not afraid.” 
“Then prove it.” 
“Well...” your heart pounds, “what exactly is the forfeit?” 
His smile fills his cheeks, his eye looking as blue as the sky behind him. 
“When you win, you can tell me,” he says, and you pretend you’re only half considering the bet as you line Ōños up, so it will be a straight shot when you kick him into action. 
“See you there! ” you call over your shoulder, racing ahead and unable to contain the burst of laughter which cackles mischievously from your chest. 
Now was your chance to best him once and for all and you were not going to squander it, except , Aemond doesn’t follow behind. He jumps the farmers fence, racing his horse through the field and you really should have known better.  
In Cyvasse he was always ten steps ahead, so why should this be any different? 
Yet, instead of giving up, you only push harder, pressing Ōños to go faster, leaning into every turn as tightly as possible and trying to keep your eyes ahead instead of searching for a dragon. Perhaps that's what he wanted, for you to lose focus, for you to assume his victory. But he wasn’t the only one who enjoyed winning. 
You can see the clearing in the distance, see white tents and staff already milling around to ensure everything is prepared for the queen’s arrival. But you can’t see Aemond and that makes you nervous. 
You shift your weight forward, almost crouching to gain momentum, just as Aemond’s horse jumps through the trees, landing mere paces ahead of you on the road. 
But, while his horse must slow to right itself after such a jump, you and Ōños are only moving faster.  
You speed ahead and you can feel him tight on your heels as you make it right into the centre of camp. 
“Woah,” you tell Ōños, who seems intent on charging straight through the clearing and beyond, and you're grinning from ear to ear when you circle back to meet the miserable expression on Aemond’s face. 
Victory had never felt sweeter, and you intended to gloat. 
“You look quite unhappy, your grace,” you say, panting as you try to catch your breath. 
Aemond doesn’t reply, and you suspect he is a sore loser of the worst variety, as he kicks his leg over the horse with a frown, before handing the reins to a groom whose probably been standing around since dawn. 
“I only wish everyone was here to see how I beat you,” you add, determined to salt the wound but Aemond’s frown is soon smoothed into a reluctant smile. 
"Congratulations,” he says, taking your waist and pulling you from the horse so you’re securely in his embrace.  
“Though I must admit,” he whispers, still holding you tightly, “I would much prefer my lady to be the one doing the forfeiting.” 
You’d forgotten about that part, winning had been pleasure enough alone but a fresh smile brightens your face before you push his arms away. 
“Hmm ,” you say teasingly, strolling through the small stretch of camp with Aemond as your shadow, “what's a good forfeit for the most repugnant man in the world?”  
He coughs out a laugh, and you already know precisely what his forfeit needs to be, if you are to make it through this picnic with any sense of decorum, but you don’t say it, not yet .  
You keep walking, and quickly make your way past the clearing, to where the forest grows beautifully lush and dense, and if you were to choose a picnic spot, it would be this . Not the cover of a tent with servants to bend to your every whim, but here, where the trees tangle with the undergrowth and the only thing you can hear is the unmistakable chorus of the woodland.  
“Are you going to tell me or not?” he says, and his impatience makes you want to hold your tongue for as long as possible, but you take small comfort in knowing you’re just about to annoy him. 
“Your forfeit,” you say, turning to look at him, “shall be to stay at least 20 paces away from me for the duration of the picnic.”  
It might not be very exciting, but it was the only forfeit which made any sense if you didn’t want to spend the entire day wrapped up in his company. 
His eye narrows, his head tilting, “and if I don’t?” 
You laugh, half amused, half annoyed, "then you shall be obliged to complete an even more humiliating feat!” 
Aemond’s jaw ticks, “such as?”  
You glance to where the river rolls lazily in the distance and think of all the times he’s mocked you for that day on the beach, “how about a dip in the water, since you like suggesting it so much?” 
Aemond snorts, moving closer, “my lady only wishes to punish me when I think she would have found her forfeit very enjoyable indeed.” 
Now it's your turn to snort, “if my forfeit was to marry you, then you are mistaken.” 
He grins, his eye meeting yours, “I cannot marry you in the Kingswood, but I do find it interesting that you would conjure the idea so readily.”
“I -” you start, your cheeks reddening but he was right. He hadn't said anything about marriage, that was all you .  
Seeming to eat up yet another portion of your embarrassment, he unclasps his cloak, letting it fall to a pile on the forest floor.  
“What are you doing?” you say, confused , though your gaze holds a keen interest in the way his long fingers begin loosening the buttons on his doublet. 
“You said so yourself, if I cannot stay away from you, then I must take a dip in the river.” 
The blood drains from your face, your heart stopping just as you meet the determined look in his eye.  
“Because I didn’t think you would do it!” you gasp, and the smile that fills his face is made up entirely of mischief. 
“Do you not take your bets seriously, Lady Baratheon?” 
“Apparently not as seriously as his grace!” you exclaim, reaching to swat his hands away from his chest and dissuade any further progress along the buttons.  
But Aemond is resolute and, as each button comes loose, he steps closer, forcing you to back away. 
“My lady must believe I would have ensured she took her forfeit very seriously indeed,” he says, his doublet falling open to reveal the stark white linen of his tunic, the strings bound tightly at his neck. 
You take another step away from him, your back colliding with the rough bark of a large tree. 
“Do you want to know what it was? Your forfeit?” he asks, slowly loosening the long strings with a single pull. 
“No.”  
A smile quivers at the edges of his lips, and he inches right into your personal space, while the tree holds you still. And you can’t move, only watch, as his tunic unravels enough for you to see there are no bandages across his chest, only the bruise. Faded to a bloom of green instead of purple and so striking against his alabaster skin that you inhale a sharp breath.  
Yet, you’re not looking at that . At least not for too long. You're staring at his hands, as they sink downwards to slide the end of his belt through its loops, each click of his buckle making your heart jump. 
“This is absurd,” you whisper, your body tensing. 
"Really ?” Aemond’s voice is low, seductive . “When I watched you undress, I found it quite mesmerizing.” 
Your eyes flick to meet his and he must see the puzzled look on your face.  
He had found you in the water, had he not?  
“I was on the clifftop, resting Vhagar,” he says, answering the question which had not yet left your lips, “and just before I turned to leave, there you were. Wearing the black and yellow of house Baratheon.”  
He pauses, letting the information sink into your bones, and you can hear the tightness in his breath before he laughs softly and continues, “I already thought it unusual for a high-born lady to be alone, so imagine my surprise when you began to take off all your clothes.” 
He watched you. From the very first moment. He watched you.   
You remember the way your chemise had billowed from your hands, forcing you to chase it down the beach. On the cliffs, he had certainly not been close enough to see every detail, but he had seen you. Your freedom, a moment that had felt so pure, so private . 
Your temper burns and you push him with all your might, the action not surmounting to much considering the man you’re trying to repel, and his strength only serves to frustrate you further.   
“You really are the worst man that ever lived!” You say and you mean it, but Aemond only smiles, enjoying the suggestion and possessing not an ounce of shame in his actions, past or present.  
“I'd say there’s hardly a man alive who could have resisted watching you.” 
Perhaps he was right. But he was the man who had been there that day and, though he could have left without saying a single word, he chose to fly closer, to stand where you could see him. To humiliate you.  
Still, that is the least of your concerns as his belt comes free and his hand moves to rest beside your head on the tree, the hairs on the back of your neck pricking to attention. 
“You’re out of your mind!�� you tell him, thinking there was no way you were going to stand around while he took off all his clothes, and when you push him again, he doesn’t budge. He inches closer, his other hand tangling in your hair. 
“From the moment I saw you on that beach, yes, ” he concedes, a spark of warmth flickering across your chest, but you ignore it.  
“I hope you jump in the river, and it carries you out to sea!”  
Aemond bites back his laughter yet he’s so close you can feel the echo of it rippling across his chest, and smell that all too familiar scent of his skin.  
“It would be most unfortunate if I were to die without first kissing my lady, do you not agree?” 
“I am not your lady.” 
“But you have no objection to the kiss?” he shifts slightly, his nose brushing with yours. 
“Yes ,” you’re barely breathing, “I have an objection. I- ” 
But Aemond doesn’t want to hear what you’re about to say, he wants to kiss you, and you anticipate the touch of his lips with more desperation than you thought yourself capable of.  
Yet , as his head tilts, and you feel the heat of his lips searching for yours, you come to your senses and turn away, his kiss landing on your cheek with a low groan.  
Still, it is a kiss, Aemond’s kiss, and even if it hadn’t intended to land as such, it was still warm and delicate on your skin, and you couldn’t ignore the way your body reacted. Wanting more, wanting so much more that you were afraid of your own desires.  
“I think his grace is forgetting himself,” you scold, your words no louder than the flutter of a butterfly wing, but really, it is you who is forgetting yourself . 
“If I am forgetting anything,” he argues, his breath hot on your cheek, “it is why I did not kiss you sooner.” 
“I'd say it’s because I do not want you!”  
“Need I remind my lady that she has the most terrible face for deception?” His voice is strained, a single finger pushing along your jaw, forcing you to look at him. 
"Need I remind his grace that I still find him the most repugnant man in the entire world?”  
Or was that just another lie to crumble under his scrutiny? Surely not. No, you find his behaviour mostly smug and sometimes downright appalling. Yet that didn’t stop the way your skin ached for his touch; it didn't stop it for a heartbeat. 
“You can remind me every day when we are married,” he promises with a slow, easy smile and, just as you think he might try to kiss you again, you hear a noise. Both of your heads flicking towards the sound. 
It’s the wheelhouse, you realise, innocently ambling its way towards the clearing, while you’re standing hot and breathless, pushed up against a tree with Aemond’s clothes half undone and decorum fully discarded. 
This was madness! Complete and utter madness! And you only had yourself to blame. 
“I’m never marrying you!” you say, resolute , before his gaze returns to yours and he stares at you for a long moment. 
“Then my lady must allow me the honour of proving her wrong,” he vows, stepping back so he has room to refasten the strings on his tunic. 
You scoff, trying not to look at anything but his face, “I have quite made up my mind on the matter.” 
“As have I.” 
“This is not a game Aemond, you will not win.” 
He pauses, surprised, delighted , “ what did you say?” 
His name, you realise. You said his name. Not his grace or my prince or even Prince Aemond, just Aemond.  
Your fingers press across your traitorous lips but it's too late to take it back now. So you don’t try. You don’t even dare to say another word.  
You’re free to move and you do so assuredly, hurrying back towards camp with your hands brushing through your hair to hide any evidence from your little misadventure in the woods.  
Seven Hells!  
If Alicent had contrived to force you into Aemond’s company, then she had succeeded entirely.  
You’d made one bad decision after another from the moment you’d laid eyes on him in the stable, and if you were being completely honest, you didn't trust yourself not to make another one. 
No, what you needed to do was find Cassandra and stick to her ladylike manners for the rest of the day. Perhaps she would even switch places with you in the wheelhouse? Yet, as you think this, you remember how you’d insisted on riding without a side-saddle. Of course you had, because you were just as Septa Orella had always told you. A defiant, ill-tempered girl.  
~~~
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entomjinx · 2 days
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ONE PIECE CHAPTER 1113 SPOILERS!!!
It's tagged, it's in bold, if you didn't see it that's on you, but I'm sorry. (I'm also a little sick so sorry for how this starts to turn a little insane at the end.)
The reveal makes perfect sense. I've seen a few people struggle to figure out where it came from, so I'm gonna explain why it makes perfect sense and then pop off with some silly theory.
The first hint at the fact that the One Piece world is sinking exists all the way back in Long Ring Long Island.
That seems like an odd place to start, but it's the first time we're shown how drastic the tides of the ocean in the One Piece world can change. It's enough to separate entire parts of an island, causing it to appear as separate islands, once every year.
This implies that the tides change drastically over the course of much longer periods than it does in the real world.
After that, we get to Water Seven and discover that it's sinking, and that the Aqua Laguna is getting worse every year. We also know that it's caused by the water receding at Long Ring Long island. We're also outright told that they want to make the city float to stop the sinking problem.
We also, much later, see just how high Wano is in altitude.
Knowing that the Redline is so tall that it cannot be passed by any ship, cannot be broken through, and that Mariejois is sat right on top of it only adds to why it makes sense.
The world isn't "sinking," those some islands technically are(Water Seven, modeled after Venice), the tides are going to rise exponentially, and fast.
The force of the water would instantly drown most people, and those who survived would be those who could get to higher altitude islands, the sky islands, Fishman Island, or the Redline.
And because I know someone will try to point this out: land bound plant life can temporarily survive underwater, so Ohara's 5000 year old library tree would be fine for a a bit while submerged. There's lots of places with high tides who's plant life is just fine. (This also could explain why they'd be so willing to throw the books into the water. Not only was it to save them from the fire, but many of them had likely been submerged for long periods of time before. They knew the books would be find in the end because they had record of it. And well, it's mentioned in the chapter that Vegapunk means to finish what Ohara started.)
This would also explain how thorough the government was able to be with wiping out information from the void century. If only a few places can survive, then few things that tell the truth will survive, and even fewer people.
Do I think I'm 100% correct about any of this? Or course not, it's Oda. It's One Piece. Things are pretty much never predicted with 100% accuracy. But that's my thoughts on why it makes sense. Now we get into theory:
I have several points to make, so I'm going to write out the shortest ones first.
-This would, completely unironically, explain some of the centuries long racism campaign against fishman. They have no reason to fear the high tides. They will survive no matter what happens on the surface, and that scares the humans who cannot.
-I think that the extreme tide is a part of why the bridge is being built in Tequila Wolf. I believe the bridges purposes is to connect all the highest points of the world so there's no need for ships to carry them. This way, the Celestial Dragons will still have access to more slaves, produce, and anything they can't get within Mariejois on their own during the time period when everyone drowns.
-and now we get to the big one:
I think that the reason the 20 kings and their people destroyed the ancient kingdom is because the ancient kingdom had a way to survive the high tide while keeping the maximum number of people safe in the process, and while being able to save many more people. They refused to ask for help, and were instead afraid of the power the ancient kingdom held, so they sought to destroy it.
I think that the ancient "weapons" were instead a means of survival, and the reason they were hidden is because the 20 kings would have used them as weapons instead. We don't know much about the ancient kingdom, so much of this is speculation.
I think Pluton was a large enough ship that it could carry the entire kingdom. We've already seen some massive ships in One Piece, and Iceburg intends to turn the entirety of Water Seven into a ship, so the idea of an island sized ship isn't all that odd.
If you continue to think about it, why did none of the Beast Pirates manage to find Pluton while searching for the poneglyph in Wano? I have two theories for this based on the fact that we're told Wano would have to open it's borders in order to get Pluton. If the walls would need to be torn down, then we can continue to assume that Pluton is massive.
Theory one is that Pluton is is hidden within the mountain itself, and that the mountain was man-made to hide the ship. Not only would the walls need to come down, but the mountain itself would have to be destroyed. They would also need a way to survive the high tide without it, so creating a mountain that is high enough in altitude to keep them safe would have been a necessity. I think this is the more believable of the two theories.
Theory Two is that Pluton is Wano. The entire island is the ship, and many of Wano's people descended from the people of the ancient kingdom or those they rescued. This one is much less likely, but it's still a possibility in my mind.
We know that Poseidon was the former mermaid princess, and that the current one is Shirahoshi. She can control the sea kings. Why would this be important? Because if everywhere floods, then the sea kings, who are already very large creatures, suddenly have an influx of room to move, food to eat, and places to lay eggs. It would cause a population spike. *However,* that would cause an ecological disaster within the food chain. The sudden influx of sea kings would be desperate for any food they can get their hands on, and many would likely die of starvation. This means they need some way to repel them from the large ship.
We don't know anything about Uranus yet, so I've nothing for you.
Another thing we know about the ancient kingdom is that they seemed to be friendly with everyone, or at least it's implied via how many friends Joy Boy made.
Fishman: Along with the bonus of having Poseidon, the fishman also have access to the tree resin from Sabaody. Should the ship(Puton) or the ancient kingdom ever need to submerge in order to keep people safe or to have a temporary air bubble, They'd be safe.
Lunarians: The people who originally lived on top of the redline. Sinee the redline is high enough to not sink, it would have made sense for them to be trade partners.
Skypians and Shandians: Another race with wings. if the tides really got too high, then they could join them in the sky sea for a time. They could also trade with them.
Minks: Zunesha was a friend of Joyboy's. We don't know much else about that situation, but it's likely that Zunesha is plenty tall enough to keep the minks from drowning, and they could have traded often as well. Maybe Zunesha was even able to do something similar to the giants.
The Giants: This feels like the most important one to me, and not just because of recent chapters. Obviously the giants think very highly of Nika/Joyboy, but it's also very likely that Elbaf is tall enough to survive the high tide, and if not, the the giants themselves are. If you look at what's known about current giants, some of them are tall enough to walk along the sea floor, and the ancient giants were so large that it's said they pulled and moved continents.
Why is that bit important? Because a ship the size of an entire island would likely need a lot more than sails buoyancy to move quickly. The ancient kingdom was pulled by the giants. They moved to different areas to rescue people and to trade so that life continued while the tide was at it's highest point.
Another random thing that supports this is the giant's vehement hatred towards Charlotte Linlin. She has Totto Land, which is supposed to be a place where all races live in harmony, but it would be a mockery of what the ancient kingdom was like, and for giants, who live about 300 years, that's only a few generations back. They would still have stories about the ancient kingdom and remember the truth.
Again, I don't think anything I predict will ever be 100% accurate, but I hope you enjoyed my rambling nonetheless.
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There’s something I love about Battletech that I’ve only now figured out how to word, and it’s the way ‘Mechs are treated in the setting (capitalized that way because in universe it’s short for BattleMechs).
If you’re not familiar with this line of thinking, let me introduce it a moment. In short, one of the things that mecha as a genre does is use mechs because they’re human-looking. It lets you take mechanized warfare, something famously cruel and dehumanizing, and humanize it, making it once again about lone heroic actors that tower over the battlefield. That can do a lot of things in a piece: it can let you really understand the emotional impact, war-is-hell style; it can be vaguely propaganda-y/wish fulfillment, in the sense that it defies the idea that one person alone can’t make a difference; it can even be used to make combat a person-to-person backdrop for what’s really going on (you could do a rom-com with mechs pretty neatly I think…wonder if that exists?)
Battletech seems to have this line of thinking built into the setting. From a Doylist perspective, I can’t guarantee it was on purpose, but shut up we’re going off the Watsonian rails.
The setting goes straight into it with the view people have of MechWarriors, the class of soldier that pilots Battlemechs across the battlefields of the Inner Sphere. The setting (especially in older eras) treats these warriors as knights-errant, crusading about in massive suits of armor for whatever cause they believe right--even if that cause is a bit of coin. Chivalric orders at one point really did and occasionally still do within the Battletech universe, and (again, earlier on in the setting) mechs are often passed down through family lines, making these machines into a symbol. What that symbol exactly represents depends from MechWarrior to MechWarrior, but no matter what it means something to them. They have some form of relationship with what it means to be a MechWarrior. To be one of these glorious knights.
But then, as all things must, it all comes crashing down when faced with the horrors of real life and the real-life battlefield. 'Mechs aren't invincible, far from it; they certainly aren't disposable, but in addition to other 'Mechs (the "romantic" opponent all MechWarriors wish to fight) they are under threat from VTOL craft, planes, tanks, artillery, and even properly trained infantry. The glorious knight, striding across the battlefield...can very easily lose their lives to their own notions of splendor. Combat, both in lore and on the tabletop, is brutal, and 'Mechs even if they survive often come away with massive holes, missing limbs, and pilots bloodied and bruised even from the safety of the cockpit. To say nothing of those that don't make it home, their ammunition reserves sending them up in a fireball of death, their reactors purged in superheated steam that could leak into the cockpit and boil them alive, their cockpit itself blasted from off the 'Mech's shoulders and leaving them nothing but a fine red paste. BattleMechs are glorious, yes, but at the end of the day it's still war.
It's still war. And war is hell.
So despite having the appearance of being an empowering machine in-universe, we can actually look at the BattleMech as symbolic of the kind of thing that really happens to people thrown into the grinder of war--they die. And it's not pretty. No idealism can protect you from the barrel of a gun. And you are most certainly cheaper to replace than all your equipment.
The designs of the 'Mechs lean into this depersonalizing angle, too. Many of them are, in the barest sense, humanoid:
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But even then, it's the vision of a human filtered through a much more realistic military-industrial complex than something like, say, Gundam. And on the other end of this spectrum:
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...are 'Mechs that look nothing like the people they're supposed to represent.
Looking at this through the lens of 'Mechs as something used to tell a story about humans, we reach a conclusion:
You think this story is about you. It's not. War is hell. Meat is cheap.
And that's actually really cool of Battletech to be so thematically tied into itself like that.
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codenamesazanka · 3 days
Text
cursory chapter thoughts:
What was this chapter
So... was Deku/AFO's attack supposed to destroy 'Shigaraki Tomura' (and leave 'Shimura Tenko' intact)? I guess that makes sense, since he didn't care about Shigaraki Tomura, only about The Crying Child. What gets messy is whether it made clear in the text that Shigaraki and Tenko are separate people? Deku treated it as if they were; Shigaraki insisted they weren't (BUT he's brainwashed/traumatized/wrong, so what does he know 🤡); the narrative seems to imply that they're still the same people but perhaps Tenko is more 'core' - At the end of 418, Tenko is the one saying 'No' to playing heroes, growing into Shigaraki/his adult self to say 'Villains need a Hero of their own', which seems to be his True Dream, implying that Tenko and Shigaraki do at least share that, they are at least partly the same person... (But then 419 said his entire life was manufactured, so.) Shigaraki Tomura/Shimura Tenko is whoever Deku decides he is, I guess.
Sero's speech feels condescending and dismissive. I totally get him, that he's a normal guy in midst of all these tragedies and trauma victims, he can't quite relate to them, his motivation is purely 'Doing well at school' and 'preparing for my future career' and that's perfectly fine! Tragedy doesn't make people stronger; there's only just suffering. The issue is that the disconnect between Normal Guy Sero and Trash Rat Baby AFO (and Abused Eugenics Baby Todorokis, Hate Crime Child Victim Hetermorphs, Quirk Conversation Therapy Toga) is pretty big. And so the speech comes off seeming to say 'that sounds like a you problem'. Or, even if he later says 'bad stuff shouldn't happen', that's so broad and vague it's meaningless, especially since the 'bad stuff' that's happening is mostly from... the system he's fighting to protect. Bad stuff happens to people and that should stop. How to stop it? Just don't be unlucky I guess?
I can't remember well, but isn't the majority of the damage Deku suffers pretty much self-inflicted? He was away for most of the Sky Coffin battle. Then he faced off only Shigaraki, and that consisted mostly of breaking Shigaraki's wrist in a hold, and dodging because he couldn't let Shigaraki touch him - though Shigaraki does get a few hits in, including tossing him across the country to Fuji. But the main injuries I remember getting prominence and significance is from overusing OFA - muscles tearing, unable to breathe, etc.
The Shirt is so awful. That's the extent of civilian help. Supporting Heroes by buying their exclusive merchandise and believing in The Symbol. And Deku puts value in that, given that he recognizes the fucking shirt. Yeah, yeah, it's symbol of their trust in him, their spirit and wishing energy is in that shirt, whatever. It's a terrible gesture and symbol to use, imo.
I like that AFO is sad.
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shadesofmauve · 1 day
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Colors!
My thumb's been fucked up by a steroid shot to the point where I can't hold a pen to draw, but the light touch of a watercolor brush is mostly okay, and I had dot cards for Daniel Smith and DaVinci paints, so I've spent the last few weeks unleashing my manic color goblin.
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Friends, I've painted so many happy little rectangles. And it has been a journey.
I've found that one of the most-referenced sources for pigment lightfastness is a hard-coded website straight out of the 90s that also talks about UFOs and human evolution. (I don't know what the guy says about human evolution, because I'm afraid to find out, but it makes me very happy that a site like that still exists).
I've learned you can make lovely purples with a cool red and phthalo green, which actually MAKES SENSE, I GUESS, but is still a bit weird and awesome even though I understand the color theory.
I've painted with the Danger Colors.
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(Cobalt, manganese, chromium, and cadmium. DO NOT LICK).
I've finally spelled phthalo often enough that I can remember it!
And I've fallen deeply, desperately in love, then had my heart broken.
It's name was DaVinci Phthalo Turquoise (pigment code PB16). When I painted it out it was beautiful; smoothly flowing into a perfect fade, the deepest, most inviting pool of cool, saturated perfect teal. I burst into song. A choir of angels descended to sing backup vocals. I never used to believe in love at first sight, but I was wrong.
...then it dried.
It dulled so much. It was still fine. Nothing special, but fine. Whatever. I'm over it. I am a strong, independent artist. I don't need that kind of negativity in my life.
There's still all the other colors. Colors that didn't betray me. Much.
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Here, Monkey is helping model the last swatch tests, which helped me choose which cool red to buy. The phone doesn't capture all the nuance, but they also started out fairly close. (I went with column 3, DaVinci's PV19 quinacridone rose madder).
So... if you're one of those tenacious, patient people who follows my fic, and you've been wondering why I haven't posted, I suppose I really just have one thing to say:
Colors go brrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
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writing-whump · 23 hours
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I'm in the fluffiest mood lately, so how about a no stakes sickfic. Movie night and the trip (Matt, Sel/Zaya) are home and decide to put on something like spiderverse or smth else, point being, either Isaiah or Matt gets super motion sick from it
Something fluffy it is. Thank you for the ask, Soup!!💙
Cinema sickness
The middle position was the best.
Matthew didn't notice when exactly they started to fight for it like that, but it was increasingly a place one of them got as special treat.
Like of course, when Isaiah was having his not so heart episodes that Seline still didn't know the cause of or when he was emotional. Then it wad Seline herself with a fever. She also usurped the spot most openly when she was well.
Matthew was a little too embarrassed to be that forward. Not when he was feeling fine.
They bought a camera projector they have been saving for a few months. Seline dreamed about the home cinema early on and Isaiah was such a movie buff, it was only to be expected.
Matthew found the cinema experience tiresome because of all the people, so their own private living room cinema because of the projector? Sounded fun. Though the cinema made for good people training.
"You guys didn't watch the second Spiderverse movie yet, right?" Seline said, taking control of the chromcast with her phone to put it on.
"I didn't see the first one either," Matthew grumbled as she climbed up between him and Isaiah who was scrolling through IMDb. He had a thing for ratings, while Seline loved comments and spoilers.
Matthew considered himself the only sane and commonly invested movie person. He liked to get surprised.
"The animation is out of this world. The first movie got an Oscar for it too, but they went overboard and beyond with the second. Each universe has a different animation style! It's the perfect movie for a cinema." Seline waved her phone in front of Matthew enthusiastically.
"Isn't animation for children?"
Isaiah and Seline both gave him scandalised looks. "In what hole did you live until now for such an outdated opinion?" Isaiah asked teasingly.
Matthew rolled his eyes. Didn't look like he would have a say today.
"I don't think you need the first one to understand," Seline said thoughtfully as she put the movie on. "They explain it pretty well, plus I can always explain things to you if you need it."
"You are still more of a fan of the first one, aren't you?" Isaiah said, bumping against her. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder, all three of them.
"I think the character development is simply better there? Also the relationships. The focus on bad mentor and a confused kid and different father figured...this one goes more into the romance storyline-"
"The focus just shifts from him to her's all-"
Matthew shook his head. "Alright, quit it. I want to see for myself."
The movie looked like a very expensive video game. The animation really was something else. Matthew understood quickly they would not be able to film stuff like this for real.
So many colours and so much quick movement. Their living room wall was basically flickering, going from one side of the colour spectrum to the next at rapid speed that had his head spinning.
How could there be so much happening on the screen? It was downright impossible to catch it all.
His eyes felt tired from it. It was all so fast and coupled with the music it was downright aggressive.
Matthew didn't notice when, but the left side of his head felt like someone held it in a vice grip. The more he watched and tried to make sense of what was happening, the more his left temple pounded in unison with his heart.
He found himself shaking his head to clear his vision, rubbing at the side of his face. He even tried closing one eye and then the other. But the images just kept coming and there was some kind of dramatic scene with spidermen all over the screen and damn, his head really hurt.
Seline was leaning her head against Isaiah's shoulder, her legs stretched out and touching them both. Her lap seemed very inviting.
Matt leaned to the side experimentally. He wanted to go slow and see how that would be taken, but the possibility of getting some cover from the screen was getting more irresistible by the second.
He slumped down into Seline's lap, twisting so his face was against her stomach. The lights were all over the living room, reaching even to the windows and the kitchen. No hiding from them.
Matthew closed his eyes, face buried in Seline's belly. He secured her from squirming with his arm over her torso, stretched out all the way to Isaiah's tight. If the other wolf wanted to protest or made any move of displeasure, Matt would quickly notice from that position.
His head hurt. Why just the left side of his face? It was tingling.
Everything was moving too much. The dizzying spinning sensation didn't quite go away, although he had his eyes squeezed shut and wasn't looking.
Not to mention he was starting to feel vaguely queasy, his dinner sloshing in his stomach angrily.
"Mattie, you aren't watching," Seline admonished softly. Her hand went into his hair though, petting it softly. He melted under her touch, grateful for a pleasant feeling to focus on.
Suddenly there was the incredible sound of the movie stopping.
"Matt? You tired?" Isaiah asked, shifting somewhere behind his head.
"Mhhhhhhhhmmmm." Was he that obvious? Suspicious? He wanted to stay huddled there in the softness, thanks.
Isaiah's hand landed on his arm. The older wolf reserved his touches for when Matthew felt sick. But they were so physically close these days, because of Seline of course, no other reason, Matthew kind of craved it, even when he didn't need it.
Or maybe it would count now. But he didn't want to ruin the celebratory mood by being a baby. It was a stupid children's movie, for God's sake.
"We can just call it a night, I think. Continuation tomorrow," Isaiah suggested, ever the peace keeper trying to accommodate everyone.
It sounded nice to not continue the movie in any case. But going to bed created a new set of problems.
Matthew would have to move.
Seline wiggled under his head. "You are heavy," she said playfully. She seemed more open to the gesture than Matthew expected. For no reason at all.
Matthew hummed non-committalally not sure how to explain or escape his predicament without losing his dinner. His stomach was churning angrily and his head was still pounding, sound or not.
Isaiah chucked. "You can sleep here for all I care, but at least let the lady get her PJs."
Matthew huffed at that, but opening his mouth wasn't a good idea. A little burp escaped, muffled against Seline's ribcage.
Seline's fingers in his hair stilled. "Mattie? You feeling alright?"
Did she notice that he got burpy when he was about to spew? He could just be full. Damn it all, the risks of living with people so closely.
Another burp, this time a little louder and wetter. Matthew pressed his face closer into Seline's shirt. It smelled of rain and ozone and grapefruit.
He felt both of their gazes on him without looking. They were probably mouthing something to each other at this point. He could picture it vividly.
The pain in his left temple spiked and he moaned quietly.
Seline's cold hand cupped his nape, stroking his neck up to his cheek where she could reach.
"...If I move, I'll hurl," he admitted finally, figuring he should inform her of the danger she was currently in.
The sigh came from Isaiah though, as the raven haired man moved gently away from the sofa into the direction of the kitchen.
"What's wrong? Is your belly upset?"
Jesus, that sounded childish when she said it like that. Not to mention that weird new Mattie nickname.
"Headhurtss," he manged to get through his gritted teeth, still entirely muffled against her stomach. It was quiet, churning only gently, like a purring cat.
"Has it been hurting for long?" She sounded amazingly calm considering he was lying across her lap. "You seemed fine to me," she said with puzzlement. He could imagine the way her forehead creased, a little wrinkle between her eyebrows as she thought back about the evening.
He opened his mouth the respond, but another burp rushed out instead. Pocket of air against her stomach. Saliva was flooding his mouth.
Matthew loosed his hold on her reluctantly, turning so he would be lying on her knees. He covered his eyes with his hands. "Ow."
Seline placed her hands on both sides of his face. "Where?" Her voice was impossibly soft.
He pushed her cool hand - how was it so cool? - against the left side of his forehead.
He felt more than saw two of her fingertips on his temple, making tiny circular movements against it. She bowled over him, her lips hovering over his ear. "How is this? Should I stop?"
"No, that's nice," he said, relaxing a little. The gentle pressure felt good against the pain, though his stomach was still roiling.
Isaiah came back then, the sofa dipping under his weight as he knelt on Matthew's other side. "I got a bowl if you need it."
"Not the nice popcorn bowl, come on," Seline complained, lifting her head.
"It's big and deep," Isaiah protested, sounding amused.
Matthew groaned at the banter. The headache was giving away a bit at the message, but the nausea rose steadily no matter what he did. He felt air in his throat and spit flooding his mouth. He didn't want to move away from Seline's fingers or the attention, but his stomach cramped angrily then.
It had him shooting up into general direction of up. Except he felt dizzy right away, swaying and moaning.
Isaiah grabbed his shoulder to steady him.
Matthew held his eyes shut against the spinning of the room, trusting him to have the bowl at the right place, cause he couldn't aim. His head exploded on his left side with the sensation and puke rocketed into his mouth.
He was right to trust him. The vomit made a splashing sound against the bowl without him even looking, Isaiah holding it under hid chin.
Seline's hands came to cup his forehead from behind. "You are okay, you are okay. Just get it up."
Matthew gave in to his body completely then, a little more voluntarily at the support. His senses were all over the place. He couldn't tell which was was up and down and his left side of the face as pounding and burning from warmth.
More waves of vomit came, easier to bring up now that he wasn't fighting it. When he thought he would catch a break, a loud burp brought in one more splash and then two more. His back arched, only Isaiah's hold on his shoulder keeping him upright. The sofa was moving like a water bed.
When he was finished, he spat the rest of the foul taste and slumped blindly back into Seline's lap. He wanted her nice scent and her cool hands and the little message against his temple that had a drilling machine against it.
"Better now?" she asked, her hands on his face just like he wanted, stroking his cheek and forehead.
"Mhhhhhhhhhmmmm." There was a relief from the nausea, but he was still afraid to open his eyes.
He could vaguely sense Isaiah's movements as he got rid of the bowl, returned to position it next to Matthew. Then circled around, fitting himself into the opening between Matthew's side and the sofa.
Matthew wasn't sure when vomiting because a group activity, or if he shouldn't apologise or feel embarrassed for making a fool of himself.
He sighed contendly as Seline went back to massaging his temple. Isaiah was rubbing his arm gently, as if to remind him he was there.
And who was Matthew to refuse the middle spot?
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