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moonstruckme · 5 months

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hey :)) first off, i love the hozier caption in your bio. second, I’ve been reading so many of your fics recently and i think you’re sooo talented! i wanna be like you when I grow up (im 20 almost 21 lol)

anyways, I’ve never really requested anything but i wanna give it a try. I was wondering if you could do a poly!marauders x reader fic or a just remus x reader fic where’s she’s driving and accidentally hits an animal and is really upset about it but they’re there to help to her move it and comfort her.

i just hit a cat and im not taking it well. we think it was just a stray cause I left my number with it in case but no one has called. my family kinda, but not really, made fun of me for being so sad about it and i kinda just need something with the guys being so affectionate and loving with her after everything.

it’s totally okay if youre not up to it! I understand that it’s such a hard topic so I won’t be offended if you don’t feel comfortable writing in this.

thank you again and im sooo looking forward to youre future work!! you’re talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before (lady gaga)

Mwah mwah mwah <3<3

-aves

(sorry this is so long)

Hi sweetheart, thank you so much! (Is your username a Lizzy McAlpine reference? I love that) I'm really sorry you went through this, I've been fortunate enough to have never hit an animal but I've seen it happen and it's so horrible, I'm really sorry you've been dealing with this :(( I think you did the right thing by leaving your number with it, and I hope the weight of that trauma and grief is starting to lift off you my love. Thank you for requesting <3

cw: mention of killing an animal, reader feeling guilty

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.8k words

James hears the door and is up instantly, bounding down the hall to greet you and Sirius.

“Hello!” he calls ahead, eager for company after being left alone in your flat for over a half hour. “You guys took your time today, I thought even Remus might beat you home. Was traffic a riot, or…”

Sirius is looking at him with panic in his blue-gray eyes, clearly trying to convey one of those telepathic messages James has never been great at interpreting, and you…you’re looking at nothing. Your gaze is distant as you work off your shoe, the area around your eyes puffy and gray with smudged mascara.

“Hey,” James breathes, then feels stupid. It sounds like he’s accusing you of something. He tries again. “Is everything okay?”

Sirius gives him a look that says What do you think? and crouches beside you to help with a stubborn knot in your shoelace. Your hands are trembling, James notices. Dread settles like a stone in his stomach.

“I’ve got it,” Sirius murmurs to you, fingers gentle as they intercept your own, but the alarm doesn’t leave his expression as he watches your face. Ah. As much as it kills James to see you upset, Sirius will have no idea what to do with you in this state. Tears have always set him on edge.

James squats, joining the two of you on the floor. “Hi, sweetheart.” He does his best to keep his own anxiety out of his voice as his hand finds your ankle, fingers wrapping around the bit of skin between the hem of your jeans and your socks. “Has something happened?”

Your eyes meet his already full of tears, and James braces himself. Sirius does too, by the look of it, his shoulders tensing as he watches your face like you’re about to crumble away to nothing right here on their doormat.

“I—” That’s all you get out before you have to bite down on your lip to keep from crying. A tiny whimper escapes, and spider web cracks spread across James’ heart. A sluggish tear leaks from your right eye.

“It’s okay,” he swears, though he has no way of knowing it. You press the back of your hand to your mouth, trying to quell the sobs that shake your frame even with no air to feed them. “Oh, honey.” James leans forward, wrapping you in an awkward but very heartfelt hug, your knees between his chest and yours but your head crossing the distance to wet his shoulder with your tears.

A sympathetic pressure builds in James’ sinuses, but he does his best to breathe through it. Stability tends to help you more than sympathy in these situations, and since Remus isn’t home yet, it’s left to James to be the reasonable one (Sirius would have all sorts of jokes to make about that, but he doesn’t seem to be feeling up to them either).

He gives you a few moments of reprieve, a few passes of his palm up and down your spine, before trying again. “What’s going on?” he asks, gently as he can. “You guys are scaring me. Sirius?”

Sirius’ brow pinches like he almost doesn’t want to say it either, and the anticipation in James’ chest heavies. “We were driving home,” he says slowly, keeping a wary eye on you lest he worsen your upset, “and a rabbit ran in front of the car.”

Relief nearly chokes James at the same time as a sympathetic sorrow takes ahold of him. He pets the back of your head. You tremble with the force of your crying, leaning into his touch greedily.

“She was driving?” he asks quietly, though he’s nearly sure. If your reaction isn’t enough to go off of, he already knows that you usually pick Sirius up from work and drive the both of you home.

Sirius nods.

“It doesn’t sound like there was anything you could do,” he murmurs to you, cupping the back of your neck to encourage you to look up at him. You do, sniffling as your lip quivers, and James uses his thumb to brush a wet streak of mascara from your blotchy cheek.

“It must have been so scared.” Your voice breaks on the last word and James’ heart along with it, leaving a throbbing wound in the center of his chest.

“I doubt it had time to be scared, honey,” he tries to reassure you, but his own voice is fraught. He looks to Sirius. “Did you…do you know if it…passed?”

Sirius is half hiding behind his hair, a sure tell of his disquiet, and it brushes his shirt collar when he nods again. “We weren’t sure at first, so I got out to move it off the road. It was dead.” He winces at his wording, and you bite down on your lip harshly. His tone softens as he addresses you. “I really don’t think it felt any pain.”

You look nowhere near ready to believe him, and James is preparing to offer to make you a cup of tea and let you sort out your grief at your own pace when the front door opens again, stopping when it hits Sirius’ side.

“Oh.” Remus pokes his head through. “Hello. Why are we all sitting on the floor?”

Sirius scoots the rest of the way out of the door’s path before deciding to stand instead. He speaks to Remus in a low voice while James runs a hand up and down your side in an attempt to soothe you. He locks eyes with Remus over your shoulder, watching as the taller boy’s gaze takes on the weight of understanding.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Remus wraps Sirius in a half-hug, kissing his surprised boyfriend on the temple before stooping beside you. “That must have been awful to have to see. Let’s get you up, yeah?” He wraps a spindly hand around your forearm, more encouragement than anything, and James grips your other hand as he stands to pull you up with him.

Neither of them seem quite willing to break contact with you, walking you over to the couch like a newborn fawn despite your murmured I’m okay. Sirius follows close behind. The both of you look like you’re perching rather than sitting, unable to completely relax even now that you’re home.

“It must have been quite a scare,” Remus sympathizes, sitting on the edge of his favored armchair.

“A bit,” Sirius mutters, and your throat bobs.

Remus cocks his head. “What’re you thinking, darling?”

James almost wants to look away at the rawness in your expression as you raise your eyes to meet Remus’. “I just…I can’t believe I killed it. I’ve never” —your voice pitches, and you swallow again— “I’ve never killed anything before.”

“It was an accident,” James tells you, beseeching.

“You couldn’t have stopped,” Sirius says. His voice has an odd, desperate quality to it, and James sees Remus notice it at the same time as he does, both boys leaning forward to see Sirius better. For the first time, James notices—had he missed it before, or has it only just started?—that Sirius is trembling slightly too. James’ free hand twitches instinctively toward him, but his dark-haired boyfriend is only touchy when he’s in a good mood. He’s not keen on physical comfort; no matter how many years James has worked on him, Sirius has always preferred to keep his struggles internal. “Or avoided it,” he goes on. “It happened too fast.”

Remus nods at you. “As awful as it is, these things happen sometimes. Hopefully,” he adds when another tear slips down your cheek, “never again to you, but selfish as it is, I’m glad you didn’t slam on the brakes or anything else that could have gotten you and Sirius hurt instead.”

You glance at Sirius, and he gives you a weak smile, taking your hand and squeezing gently.

“Nothing you could have done,” he whispers.

Your lips tremble again. James watches as panic flashes in Sirius’ eyes, but he keeps it together. “I’m really sorry,” you tell him, voice wavering. “I shouldn’t have made you take care of the bunny by yourself.”

James' chest aches as Sirius takes a steadying breath. “You were frazzled. Understandably upset,” he corrects himself, squeezing your hand again. This time you squeeze back. “It was a one-man job anyway.”

You make a soft sound, leaning your head on his shoulder, and James has the sense something has settled a bit in each of you. He raises your joined hands to his lips, kissing the back of yours as Remus’ eyebrows furrow.

“Have you had a chance to wash your hands, love?” he asks Sirius, who blinks.

“No. I forgot.”

Despite the heavy atmosphere, James actually feels the beginnings of a smile tempting his lips as he watches Remus forcibly quell his horror. “Right, then. Why don’t we go do that in the kitchen now, and I’ll make us all some tea.”

“Good idea,” James says heartily, swiping his thumb back and forth over his own kiss on your hand. “Hey, could we take out the good cookies as well?”

Remus hums what James chooses to interpret as assent, shepherding Sirius into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry,” you say to James once the other two are out of hearing.

He looks down at you. “What for, sweetheart?”

You shrug, your shoulders remaining just a tad too high after the motion. You’ve stopped crying, and James is grateful, but he doesn’t think this shameful look is a vast improvement. “I feel like I’m being dramatic. And Sirius is the one who had to see it. He had to drive home too, I was too upset.”

James’ battered, broken heart wells for the both of you. He forgoes his attentions to your hand, wrapping his arm around your shoulders instead to tuck you against his side. “You’re not being dramatic,” he promises, “okay? You and Sirius were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you both had to witness something awful.” Your head sinks onto his shoulder, and he rubs your upper arm. “I think it’s alright to be sad for a while. For yourselves, and for the bunny. Just, don’t torment yourself, alright?” He withdraws enough to see your face, and you tilt your gaze up to his. “Please. You don’t deserve the guilt.”

Your eyes cast down, contemplative and a bit shy, a moment before your head comes back to its spot on his shoulder. “Thanks,” you murmur.

“No thanks necessary, babe. You can cry all night if you need to, I’ll be right here. Just do me a favor,” he lowers his voice, glancing toward the kitchen, “let me sit between you and Sirius if you do. Many more tears and I think he’ll have a heart attack.”

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thesimline · 1 month

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The Baroque period is often an overlooked one, thanks in large part to the fact that the incredibly iconic Tudor and Rococo periods bookend it. However, it still had some standout trends of its own - most notably the unique hairstyles that 1600s women donned. Delicate face-framing curls became all the rage and styles lowered in height, instead moving volume to the sides. CC links and reference images under the cut.

You can find more of my historical content here: 1300s ✺ 1400s ✺ 1500s ✺ 1600s

1 - Marguerite by Melancholy Maiden

2 - Cinnamon Roll by Tekri

3 - Kendall by Oakiyo | Babyhair N3 by Daerilia

4 - Hasina Hair by Peach Tea Piggies | Twisted Accessory Bangs by Atashi77

5 - Kelly by Joliebean | Babyhair N3 by Daerilia

6 - Henrietta 1 by Buzzard's Bits and Bobs

7 - Queen Hair by Historical Sims Life | Twisted Accessory Bangs by Atashi77

8 - Rita Curls by Kiara Zurk

9 - Karol Pigtails by Serenity

10 - Vanessa by Oakiyo | Babyhair N3 by Daerilia

11 - Theresa Version 2 by Buzzard's Bits and Bobs

12 - Romy by Okruee | Babyhair N3 by Daerilia

13 - Cinnamon Roll by Tekri | Twisted Accessory Bangs by Atashi77

14 - Lucia by Melancholy Maiden

15 - Bobbi by She Speaks Simlish | Twisted Accessory Bangs by Atashi77

16 - Scarlett by Oakioy | Babyhair N3 by Daerilia

17 - Violet by Sims To Maggie

18 - Bee by Tekri | Twisted Accessory Bangs by Atashi77

19 - Imo by Okruee | Twisted Accessory Bangs by Atashi77

20 - Briella by Sim Fusion (TSR) | Babyhair N3 by Daerilia

21 - Samira by Leah Lillith

22 - Henrietta 2 by Buzzard's Bits and Bobs

23 - Zuri by Sims Magnolia

24 - Mariela Puffs by Saturn Galore | Babyhair N3 by Daerilia

With thanks to some amazing creators: @the-melancholy-maiden @tekri @oakiyo @daerilia @peachteapiggies @joliebean @buzzardly28 @serenity-cc @okruee @shespeakssimlish @simstomaggie @leahlillith @simsmagnolia @saturngalore

#ts4 #ts4 cc cas #the sims 4 #ts4 decades challenge #sims 4 decades challenge #ts4 cc hair #ts4 historical #ts4 history challenge #sims 4 history challenge #sims 4 historical #1600s #historical cc #baroque #17th century #ultimate decades challenge #hair collection

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wordsinhaled · 9 months

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21 24 !! hugs for dream boy !!

thank you for the prompt and i’m so sorry this is atrociously late, i just got done prepping for an exam that is now over! ❤️

from the soft prompts list — “this is a very long hug now sort of hug” and “just really needed a hug sort of hug.” and i threw in ‘i missed you’ as a bonus

Dream has not known himself to be one for hugs, or indeed embraces of any kind.

Of course he understands their appeal, from the slightly removed perspective that is uniquely his as the lord of dreams. He has crafted more than one reverie of nothing more complex than a single, protracted, yearned-for embrace from someone special to the dreamer.

He comprehends—if only academically—that a simple hug can be, under the right circumstances, blissful. Healing. Transformative. So say the psyches of the visitors to his realm.

Still, Dream is not prepared to experience this firsthand. He is not prepared for the unrestrained enthusiasm with which Hob Gadling bounds up from his chair and opens his arms to him, as though this too is part of their familiar ritual.

Nor is he prepared for how much he is pleased by this welcome. For how much he feels immediately eased to be once again in Hob’s presence, even after so short a time.

Dream has surprised him; it is not their usual evening of the week but a Sunday afternoon, and the Inn is mostly empty: only a few patrons sitting at the bar, Hob comfortable at his customary table, sunlight streaming over the papers surrounding him.

It should feel like Dream is trespassing—he is unexpected, and Hob had clearly been busy—yet somehow it does not.

Instead, it feels startlingly ordinary—a tableau of Hob’s day-to-day life; one Dream finds himself pleased to become a part of.

Hob says, “Hello, my friend,” soft and full of fondness, as though a year of weekly meetings has done nothing at all to make a dent in the joy of calling Dream such. He opens his arms wider.

Dream does not normally indulge himself in Hob Gadling’s subconscious, but Hob was daydreaming of just this not a moment ago, loudly enough that Dream could not help but to see flashes of it.

And Hob Gadling’s daydream is thus: Hob would hold Dream’s narrow frame as though each atom of his form manifested in the Waking were cherished, with enough cherishing left over to bleed over into the Dreaming as well. He would squeeze hard enough to lift him slightly from the floor—if Dream would allow such a liberty; for Hob would fain do only what Dream would find pleasing and not a thing more. Hob Gadling daydreams of what Dream would smell like at the crook of his neck, were Hob to bury his nose there; of how Dream’s hair would feel brushing his cheek. He imagines it soft as cornsilk and ephemeral as shadows, which is, impressively, not far from the truth.

And in Hob’s daydream he says “I missed you,” quietly enough that Dream might not hear. But—secret fear, or dearest wish, or both?—there is every chance that Dream could hear, for Dream, Hob knows, does not have the hearing of a mere mortal.

“I missed you too,” Dream says aloud. He cannot help himself. Who is he, if not a bringer of men’s dreams? This one is easy to fulfill. It requires only that Dream offer up a truth he finds suddenly easy to admit, standing here, sharing the same shaft of sunlight that pools in the smile lines around Hob’s eyes.

Dream takes a step towards Hob, until it is only natural that he finds himself within the circle of Hob’s waiting arms.

He drops his forehead onto Hob’s shoulder, and curls his fists into the thick wool of Hob’s sweater. His hair, shadow-soft, brushes Hob’s cheek, and he knows that in this moment he smells of all that Hob likes best.

(Later, when he thinks of falling in love with Hob Gadling, he imagines he began to realize it then.

For it was a single embrace that set his manifested heart to swaying like a boat settling at anchor; a single embrace that made of him a leaf drifting groundward on a warm spring breeze.

A singular moment of bliss.)

#the sandman #dreamling #god this feels… very rusty but here it is #quite possibly not good at all but i have lost the ability to tell i am 😴😴😴

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katy-l-wood · 3 months

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Disasters in Film: The eras of disasters in film.

Here we go! The first in a series of posts I'm going to do giving my thoughts on the college course I'm taking this semester about disasters in film. I made a post with the film list and reading list as well, which you can check out here.

Also. One of the professors teaching this course LOVES quotes. And I mean loves them. 90% of his presentations are just quotes that he then rambles about. So be prepared for lots of quotes in this series. 😂

And I'll open this up with the same image the professors did, which is an image from the Mayfield Kentucky tornado. Because damn is it fitting and evocative:

This is a theater that was damaged by a tornado, revealing the world outside the theater while leaving the interior of the theater itself untouched. The photo was taken by Shawn Triplett.

And a quote:

“Disaster is one of the oldest subjects of art.. It is concerned with the aesthetics of destruction with the peculiar beauties to be found in wreaking havoc.” —Susan Sontag, The Imagination of Disaster

Now, onto my thoughts on the eras of disaster! We covered the basics, obviously, which is that we started off with biblical disaster movies in the 20s and then swung into more exaggerated/"imagined" stuff. Then in the 50s and 60s we kind of swung back to biblical and historical stuff for a bit before going back to exaggerated/"imagined" stuff like aliens and monsters. Then, of course, we had the big resurgance in the 70s which moved away from aliens and monsters and that sort of destruction and swung more towards natural disasters and using them to frame various discussions of class and the real world. The 80s were dominated by action disaster movies with lots of focus on remasculinization of America (aka sweaty men with their shirts off kicking ass). Then in the 90s we just went in all fucking in on completely destroying the world. There were 83 disaster movies released in the 90s, with 21 of them being released in 1998 alone.

And then we've got 9/11. Now, the professor's have stated that we'll talk more about pre-9/11 and post-9/11 disaster movies later, but what I found interesting here is that the professor stopped separating the decades after this. We just went from the 90s to the 21st century as a whole. Which felt weird. We're nearly 1/4 into this! There's two complete decades of it so far! I think we can at least make some broad strokes generalizations about the sort of differences in disaster movies in each of those decades.

But, with that said, I do wonder if the lack of breaking it down farther stems from the sort of cultural stall we're in as a whole. This has been talked about a lot in other realms, such as how quickly fashion trends turn over to the point they hardly count as trends anymore. The same could, potentially, be said of disaster movies. I'm actually tempted to sit down and try and figure it out, to see if I could put a specific trend to 00's and 10's disaster films, but I haven't had the chance yet.

Then, of course, we have the fact that Hollywood is pretty broken right now. Obsessed with remakes and churning out the same content over and over again. Killing unique studios left and right. Constant layoffs. Terrible treatment of its workers. Etc. Etc. Might that also speak to our lack of easily discernible trends in disaster movies?

Either way, it's interesting!

#Disasters in Film

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slocotion · 2 years

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Morning Star, Mango Swizzle & Brimstone

6′’ inch mini bats going up in my new shop this Sunday 15th of May at 21:00 GMT+1 (Irish time).

Each bat is made from hand painted sculpey and wood, on a wire armature padded with soft polyfiber stuffing, and clothed in a unique handmade outfit.

All three bats have a ribbon loop behind their head, so they can be hung from frame hooks, branches ect..

Paypal payments only. Instagram / Patreon

LINK TO SHOP & ITEM PREVIEWS

#The three names combined sound like a wizard's potion #>:)c #ooak #ooak dolls #art dolls #art doll #clown doll #bats #my art

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marthawrites · 1 year

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A Game of Chase

Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word count: 5.7k+

Can be read as a stand alone, but reads best as pt 2 to Pretty Girl

About: You and your best friend go out to a local event. While there, Aemond, surprisingly, makes an appearance. With quick wit you pretend like it's your first time meeting. Equally quick and curious, he plays along. A game of chase ends up with some unexpected aftershocks.

Includes: About half plot and porn. Explicit sexual content! Rough!Aemond with themes of jealousy, possessiveness, and obsession. Sexual/tension, fingering, blowjob, p in v, and a sweet ending.

Note: Hello lovely reader! I had to return to this AU - just had to! One day I will learn to not be a wordy bitch but today is not that day. Reader is nondescript and implied to be 21+ due to alcohol consumption. As always, it is my highest hope that you enjoy this story! ♥

The city below sparked with life in every corner and lane. You leaned on the balcony's railing and looked over the last remains of sunset: spilled watercolors across a slowly dimming sky. As the last rays of sun disappeared, spring's chill swirled through the air making you wish you wore a jacket over your black evening dress.

"Christ. If we're out here any longer my nipples are gonna jab through this dress," your best friend, Rebecca, said with a noticeable shiver. "Shit, girl! Let's go inside." She hooked an arm through yours and turned to guide you both inside where it was much warmer. She looked gorgeous tonight in a mauve dress, silver heels, and silver jewelry. It all accented the lovely hue of her hair and skin; strands of hair loose to frame her classic face. Her seemingly effortless femininity always had you jealous. She was much more "girly girl" than you, and you relied on her often.

"No leather jackets and no jeans! And oh my God none of your combat boots! This is a formal event. Not one of your creepy bonfire circles with gas station beer." Rebecca had told you earlier with a dramatic roll of her eyes, humor clear on her face. "Who knows. Maybe you'll find someone to put your last hook up to shame," she winked.

There was no way you weren't going to tell her about Aemond. Except, much to her dismay, you didn't tell her tell her; just the bare bones of it. You met a guy through work, hit it off, and ended up getting laid after he took you out.

She wanted the deets. You were keeping your mouth shut. She hated you.

You didn't even mention his name! With it being unique you knew she'd do some serious digging – and you already did. Local cryptids had a bigger digital footprint than him. Considering the day and age, maybe it should have been a red flag… Bec wouldn't let you live that down.

"Will you shut up about that?" You laughed. "Okay okay. I'll skip my favorite jacket and boots too. Only, and only, because I just got a fresh pedi. You can take my lipstick and eyeliner out of my cold dead hands though," you threatened.

"Those are your trademarks and we both know it. Besides, you look hot with it. Black dress and… black heels too. Your strappy ones!" You let her pick your outfit. When it was time to leave you looked good.

Bec was the only person who could play with you like a human barbie. You two went through high school together – and all the awkwardness that brought – and even college. You'd been through thick and thin and you loved her more than anyone else. You two even used each other to learn how to kiss. A truly fun and silly experience in hindsight.

This event happened twice a year. Music was huge in the area. More specifically, classic music. The university had one of the best programs in the country and was widely respected for it. At a young age your love for the violin blossomed into something truly spectacular. While it fell to the back burner during college, it remained a cherished hobby. Bec's skill was her voice. It earned her lead soprano. She was ethereal. Listening to her in the choir – whether part of the group, doing a solo, or singing with any of the other leads – was something to behold.

"I'm so glad you were able to come out tonight. It just wouldn't be the same without you," you told her as you both walked away from the bar with drinks in hand.

"Trust. I wouldn't miss it. Hubs can handle things for one night," she laughed even as her eyes rolled in feigned annoyance. She smirked and sipped her beverage.

Everyone seemed to be dressed in their finest. Dresses, suits, and glittering jewelry sparkled beneath the ornate lighting. Various perfumes and colognes hung in the air to create an atmosphere of intimacy. Some of the attendees looked young enough to have just graduated high school while others were grayed and wrinkled with time. The common thread of everyone was their love for music. It was truly a treat.

"I'm constantly shocked at how young the freshmen look every year. Look at them. Babies!" You exclaimed, tilting your head in the direction of a small group of friends who probably couldn't even buy alcohol yet. It prompted you to your drink; an accidental gulp instead of a sip.

In the theme of the event, music played over the speakers which seemed to bring everyone closer.

You two made your way to a bar table by the facade window. The soft lighting and twinkling accents brought out a pink in both of your cheeks that only fine liquor could coax.

"I wish you'd tell me more about your mystery man! Honestly I'm starting to think it was that cute coworker of yours who I like to make eyes at. He's a blusher! You know you could tell me if it was him, right?" She teased you easily.

You gasped. "Oh, wow! You truly have so little faith in me? I wouldn't hook up with your boyfriend," you laughed, unable to keep your mock shock up for long. "You know, it's starting to be more fun holding this over your head than actually giving you all the dirty details." You chased the thin straw of your drink, flashing her a tauntingly playful expression.

She'd just opened her mouth to retort when something else caught her attention. "Oh my God no way," she slammed her free hand atop the table in surprise. "I didn't think he'd come! Here I thought he was way too cool and too busy to make an appearance."

You snorted a laugh as Bec started waving an arm to beckon him over. "Another boyfriend? Sheesh." You teased. She was happily married and you only liked to flick her shit.

"Hey! Yeah, you! I'm so glad you came. Come over here and meet my girl. Y/N, this is Aemond. Aemond, this is Y/N."

Holy shit. Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

Bec kept talking, explaining how she knew both of you. You, her best friend since high school. Him, a piano enthusiast who'd taken the university's classes multiple times purely for pleasure. Her voice droned. You heard none of it. Not with Aemond standing there, hand in one of his pockets, drink in the other, looking like that.

Was it even legal for a man to look so fucking good? He looked absolutely stunning. The three-piece suit he donned had to be specially tailored for him because there was no way a regular suit could fit him like that. Black, charcoal, and deep green; it made his naturally silver-white hair and fair skin all the more stark. The subtle pinstripes of his pants and coat elongated his already tall frame, and the tip of his pointed shoes were in a single direction: you.

With Bec introducing, you had fleeting seconds to decide how you'd react to this. "Aemond," you said his name like it was the first time you'd tested it on your tongue. "Nice to meet you.” You sipped to hide smirking lips. Quiet mischief danced behind your eyes. ‘Play with me,’ they said. ‘You feeling it?’ they taunted.

“Hmm,” Aemond hummed while looking over you like he might have recognized you from somewhere. “I thought perhaps we had a class together. But, I don’t think so. Those aren’t pianist hands,” he said, tiny dimples betraying his restrained smirk.

“Ha!” Bec all but snorted. “No. No no no. She does not. She’s a ranger of our lovely national park and she plays the fiddle for Bigfoot.”

Aemond blinked, taken back.

“What the hell, Bec!” You blushed, embarrassment waving up in you like a tide. “You can’t just go telling people that all willy-nilly!” Despite the embarrassment, you laughed, as did Rebecca, and some of the palpable tension between you and Aemond melted. Perhaps she’d done you two tricksters more of a favor than you realized.

“This is Bigfoot country, is it not? I’m into cryptids,” Aemond replied smoothly. “Wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it tonight. But, now I’m glad I did,” he added in that same tone, taking an extra moment to glance over you appreciatively. “Becca’s hard to miss, but it was you who called me over here from across the floor.”

You arched a brow at his forwardness. “Wow. Uhm… I didn’t notice you at all,” you quipped cheekily before taking the last swill of your beverage.

Bec rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, Aemond. You’re gonna have to try harder than that. My girl here isn’t quite so easy.”

A genuine smile flashed across his features to brighten his eye. “Right. I’ll have to try harder for that one,” he said amusingly.

“Well. I feel a second one calling my name. Catch you later, Becs,” you said before turning, doing your absolute best (and somehow succeeding) to not flick another glance to the Targaryen tech giant who stood tall and wonderfully imposing next to your best friend. Would he still smell like clean laundry as he did the last time you two were together? Or would he perhaps carry the faintest aromas of shared perfumes, cigarette smoke, and cool night spring air? You dared not glance over your shoulder. You couldn’t be certain, but you swore his gaze trailed after you until you disappeared into the crowd.

An hour passed and you didn’t see either of them. The crowd was growing looser; people mingled like old friends. Karaoke replaced the overhead music and with it brought a fresh batch of excitement and silliness. The entire vibe of the place slowly shifted and you found yourself happily chatting with strangers like they were long lost college, or even high school, friends.

It was during that occasion you finally caught sight of him again. You were buzzed – happy – talking to a dark haired man with a dazzling smile. Each time he did his entire face lit up and sent the corners of his eyes crinkling. He was playing the charm game very well. If you didn’t already have secret plans to leave with Aemond, he very well might have talked you out of your pretty black dress. Aemond didn’t know that, of course, and when you could still see him at the edge of your peripheral you knew the little game just went up a notch.

Another hour passed in the blink of an eye. Bec had to leave – turns out her hubs couldn’t handle everything on his own for a night. The dark-haired man, while attractive and sweet, wasn’t what you had in mind. Once you finally managed to slide away from him you sat at the bar. You’d been standing most of the night and your feet were starting to ache in the heels you rarely wore. The bartender handed you your final drink for the night. You sat alone. Relaxed. Content to people watch as the event resembled more of a high-end bar at this hour.

Again, from the corner of your eye, you saw Aemond linger just there. Just at the edge of your vision. Playing. Teasing – a silent stalk. However, you pretended like you didn’t. You slowly traced the rim of your glass, attention elsewhere. With one leg crossed over the other you leisurely bounced your foot at the ankle, the heel of your shoe tapping against the heel of your foot. Quiet. Confident. Even if Aemond hadn't already known you he would have been drawn to you. It was the tiny knowing smirk at the outermost edge of your mouth that really called to him. ‘I see you,’ it said. ‘What are you going to do?’ it purred.

“Is this seat taken?” Aemond’s smooth voice came from beside you.

With a shake of your head you answered, “it wasn’t. But I think it is now.” Your pretty eyes lingered over him and you just now noticed the three headed dragon tassel he wore on his collar. The buttons of his cuffs were the same three headed dragon. Half of his hair was pulled back and secured into a bun at the back of his head, and you wanted nothing more than to loosen it and let the strands fall over your hand.

“Good,” he all but purred, leaning in a little closer than was truly necessary. “Hm… I don’t know what it is about you, pretty girl, but there’s something about you that keeps pulling me in.”

“Bold of you to say to someone you’ve just met,” you replied through a laugh, giving him a sly side glance from beneath your lashes.

“Perhaps,” he said quickly, leaning on the bar as he stood between you and the empty stool at your side. “But, I think you’ve been eyeing me all night too. Unable to truly lose track of me in this crowd,” his voice was a low rumble and it sent a shudder of excitement all up and down your spine.

“What makes you think that? This is the first time I’ve seen you since Bec introduced us. Honestly, I thought you left.”

He chuffed amusedly. “Sure, okay,” he started. “Is that why you can’t quite look me in the eyes? Or why you let that man paw all over you once you knew I was there? Or… why you only came here once it was empty and I was there?” He tilted his head slightly, just slight, as he spoke; smug condescendence angled his jaw.

It took everything you had to steady the excitement in your voice. “You’re very observant, Aemond,” his name dripped like honey from your tongue. “What do you plan to do with all those observations, hm?”

“Lots,” he answered lowly, triumphantly. “Let’s get out of here.”

Giddiness bubbled up from your core. Before you could stop yourself, you answered, “no. I don’t think so.” The change of his expression filled you with victory. This was your game and you were still playing by your own rules even if that meant making them up as you went. “Here is my offer, Mr. Targaryen. I’m leaving. You will give me your number and if I’m feeling up to it, I’ll text you my address.” The pupil of his good eye expanded; black swallowing violet. You wanted to cheer. He wasn’t expecting this, you thought. “Take it or leave it. If you leave it… I have another number to fall back on.”

“Give me your phone,” he said, posture and jaw tight. You did. He tapped his thumbs a few times on the screen before handing it back.

As soon as you had your phone back you stood. “That’s what I thought,” you told him softly, smugly, not giving him a chance to reply before walking towards the exit.

Game over. You won.

Truthfully you would have left with him immediately, but your house was a mess and you weren't going to invite him over to this. It took perhaps twenty minutes to give the entry way, living room, and kitchen a quick clean sweep. From there, it took maybe half the time to shove everything out of place in your bedroom in your closet. You’d properly tidy later. But now? No. The only thing on your mind was the look on Aemond’s face when you laid out your terms for the night.

You texted him your address and nothing else. Now, it was your turn to wait.

Barely ten minutes passed before a knock sounded at your door. Peeking out from behind a curtain you saw it was Aemond. A secret smile plastered on your face and you wondered what he’d been doing for the last half hour. It took at least fifteen minutes to get to the event hall, so he must have already been out driving in the general direction. Either that, or, he broke every traffic rule to get to you in record time. You opened the door only to be shoved back inside, door slamming closed behind both of you. A sound between a gasp and strangled moan broke from you beneath his kiss as his hands were all all over you at once; sliding, groping, pressing.

“Did you have fun with your little game?” He asked hot against your mouth. You were trapped between the back of your couch and his looming form. The furniture was the first thing to get in the way of your eager bodies.

Your breath shuddered, chest rising and falling above the black neckline of your dress. “Aemond,” you managed to whisper hoarsely. Nothing else formed on your tongue before it was against Aemond’s for a second time.

“I could have had that entire fucking hall dismissed in an instant. You know that, right?” You didn’t ask how or why because you didn’t fucking care. Not now. Not with his mouth on yours, and his hands squeezing your hips and waist, his thigh between your legs. “And then you force me to stalk you around the crowd. Watch you flirt so easily with other men. Watch weaker men stare after you like sniveling piglets.” His teeth sunk into your neck until you yelped, body squirming against his.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, head buzzing with a hundred different things all at once. Heat flooded your core. Thrill webbed throughout all your senses until you were keenly aware of even the tips of your fingers, toes, and ears. He bit again, softer this time, making his way down the length of your neck to your collarbone. “I didn’t think you’d play along for as long as you did,” you simpered, hands rubbing up the sides of his smooth face until your fingers were tangled in his silken hair.

Both his hands pressed up your ribs until the weight of your breasts sat upon them. You couldn’t see from your angle, but he was biting and sucking little hickeys all down your skin. “Do you think that dark-haired man would have tried as hard as he did… pathetic, really… if you were already marked by my teeth, hm?” As if to make his point even clearer, he drew in a mouthful of your soft cleavage and worked it until you yelped, forcefully pulling his head back with a wet pop. A dark bruise was already forming; the deepest one yet.

“What the hell? You’re fucking crazy,” you moaned, breathlessly looking down at him, arousal turning your blood to fire. “Is that what this is about? Me flirting with that guy?” Your face bloomed with heat.

“If I knew you were going to be there you’d have been on my arm the whole night. Fun as it was, pretty girl, I wanted to gouge the eyes out of every man who looked at you for too long.” He was hard inside his pants, painfully trapped inside the confines of the fine material.

Aemond didn’t strike you as the possessive type. It shocked you. Even scared you a little. “Holy shit, Aem,” you said, trying to catch your breath from the assault of his hands, mouth, and intentions. “I just thought we were having fun. With you only being here for a visit I didn’t think it was anything serious, ya know? Fuck.” Your hands fell from his hair to instead push yours back.

“At first I thought so too,” he replied, voice and body language softer now. “I was immediately drawn to you. As soon as you opened the door at your ranger cabin in your dorky uniform...,” he kissed you again, gentle and easy. He felt you melt into and against him. “Distance doesn’t matter to me. In another time my family would be kings,” he smirked, holding your face between his hands to read it.

“If you are a king or a prince –” you teased, playfully mocking the old timey titles, “ – then let me be your queen or your princess.” Your hands trailed down the sides of his biceps, across the front of his chest, down the plane of his abdomen. His intensity could surely frighten other women away, but you found yourself drawn to it. A fire burned beneath his skin and you wanted nothing more than to feel its heat against your own.

Aemond read you well, eyes squinting down at you as you traced and caressed over his clothed form. Something in his gaze shifted, then. A game of his own, you recognized.

His turn.

“Would he have been able to excite you like this?” Your dress had bunched up high around your thighs and he took full advantage of it. With his question he trailed the tips of his fingers over the front of your clothed cunt. Your warmth tingled his fingertips. “Could he have gotten this pussy so wet?” He asked, slipping his touch beneath the front of your panties to your bare folds. “Hm?” He inquired, the pads of two easily sliding up your slit and to your clit where he rubbed small, firm circles. You were soaked.

You jolted, legs tightening. “Aem…,” you warbled, back arching. Your body was desperate for him. One of your hands lowered to the wrist he was using to tease you, eyes looking up at him in a silent plea. “No,” you answered. “He couldn’t.” You squeezed your hand around his wrist, then, urging his fingers to slide into you.

A satisfied growl rumbled in his throat at the combination of your admission and grip. “I didn’t think so…,” he cooed, following your touch as he pushed a long slender finger into your body. “I missed this pussy,” he admitted, bending his head to catch your pleased sigh in a kiss. He swirled and pressed along your walls, reveling in the way you felt around him and the muffled sounds you made.

By now your alcohol buzz was gone and you were entirely drunk on Aemond. He spun you in a whirlwind and you were at his mercy. It was when he pushed a second finger into you that you broke the kiss, unable to hold back the moan he pulled from you. “They feel so good…,” Aemond-drunk and pleasure-drunk; the night was just beginning.

“There,” he said as your eyes fluttered and struggled to stay even half open. “Cum on these fingers so we can take this pretty dress off.” He pumped both in and out of you with added fervor, now, relishing just how fucking wet you were. There was no denying or hiding the sloppy little sounds that came from between your thighs. Those, mixed with your continued pleasured whimpers, made for a delicious melody that made Aemond’s cock throb.

“O-oh..! Right there, just like that! Please…,” you whispered as if in prayer. Your hand squeezed tighter around his wrist as he fucked his fingers into you at that same wonderful angle and pace. Even without your pleas he could tell you were close. Your cunt squeezed around him a little tighter, hips squirming, grinding down on his hand for added pressure. You dipped your head into his chest, hips rolling with his pace, and it was when he squeezed a third inside you that you absolutely lost it. Orgasm washed over you in lovely waves of bliss. You trembled; walls clamped around him rhythmically. You panted. Blissed out and ready for another.

As soon as you came down from your natural high Aemond helped you out of your clothes. Dress, bra, panties. They were all tossed aside somewhere in your living room.

Then, it was your turn to help him out of his own clothing. “Fuck, you have beautiful tits,” he said as he stood in front of you in only his briefs. He bent down to lick and kiss over them appreciatively, holding the soft mounds in his hands.

You giggled at the tickling sensation it gave your sensitive skin. “My room is down this way,” you said with a tilt of your head, taking his hand and leading him through the kitchen, down a short hallway, and into your room. It was only illuminated by an essential oil diffuser which glowed with a soft pink. It steadily misted with a heady mix of oils.

Once there it was your turn to have your hands all over him. You trailed along every bit of him that you could. From his shoulders, to his arms, across the patch of hair along the center of his chest, and down his lean abdomen, until your fingers hooked beneath the hem of his briefs. You pushed him further into your room until the backs of his legs hit the outside of your bed.

Sitting on the edge he pulled you to him by your waist, coaxing you to stand between his parted legs. He unabashedly bit into the meat of your hip. One of his hands reached behind you to squeeze your asscheek, giving it a firm smack.

You jumped at the combination, goosebumps racing to the top of your skin. "My turn to make you feel good…," you grinned, tugging the bun at the back of his head so he was forced to look up at you. "How dare you look so fucking good in a suit. It's really not even fair. Pinstripes, really? And your three headed dragons? It should be me who is green with jealousy over all the women who were checking you out."

Whether you were merely teasing or being wholly serious, Aemond didn't care. You had taken control of the flow once again. He let you have it, let you hold onto the reins if only for a moment. He loved seeing you like this. The faintest hint of pink shone in his cheeks at your compliment.

Releasing his hair you sunk down to your knees. You kissed the flat of his abdomen, beneath his navel, nipping the skin there as your hands pulled the front of his briefs down. He groaned in relief when his cock finally sprang free. Too long had it been solid and trapped; the generous size of him aching to be released for longer than he cared to admit. "So big…," you praised, idly stroking him as you looked up at him.

Seeing you so eager on your knees snapped something in him, and any chance of playing nice broke as soon as your warm tongue swiped along the underside of his shaft. "That's right," he muttered through a pleased groan. "It's like you forgot how fucking good this cock made you feel. Making me play along with your silly game," he tutted, seizing a handful of your hair in his fist. "Parading around like you weren't already mine…," his voice dark, dangerous. "You need to be reminded, pretty girl. Of whose you are, and of how good only my cock can make you feel."

Your belly flipped at the change of his demeanor. The way his eye pulled you into the void of its blackness. You looked up at him like the little doe you were. With his help, and in a single shared motion, you raked his undergarment down his legs to throw it aside. His hand was still knotted in your hair and, using that, he pulled your mouth to his cock until he hit your gag reflex.

Instantly you choked. He fucking groaned as your throat constricted around him. Saliva pooled in your mouth. Your hands gripped over his thighs, fingernails digging into the lean muscle there. He lifted your head up only to do it once more; slower, more deliberate, savoring the sensation of your mouth around him for the first time. And a third time, too. After a moment both his hands lifted your head off him, smiling softly. It wasn't what you expected. It was the gentlest he'd been since arriving. "Too much? Or are you okay?"

It was the sincerity in which he spoke that made you want to slap him, kiss him, and jump on him. All at once. Instead of any of those, you laughed. You wiped away some smeared mascara from under your eyes and nodded, unable to stop laughing. "Surprising, yeah. But, I'm okay. Thanks for checking."

He smirked. That asshole. "Good," he replied, leaning back on one hand while spreading his legs wider apart. "You don't have to be easy with me."

You didn't have anything to say, simply scooted closer into him and looked up at him with those big doe eyes smeared with the night's makeup. You took him in your mouth once again – on your own terms this time. His hand rested lightly at the back of your head in an attempt to keep your hair from falling in your face. You sucked more of him in, then pulled back, plunging forward once again to swallow yet even more of his length.

A truly delectable groan rumbled out from Aemond's throat. He couldn't help it. Your mouth felt so fucking good. He looked down at you, glaring, while a pleasured grin spread across his face; the black of his eye making it all the more lecherous. "Fuck. 'M not gonna last long if you keep doing that."

"Good," you shot back in the same manner of his. "You deserve to cum for playing my silly little game." You didn't go easy on him. Lewd glugs and hot pants filled your room; his hisses and gasps accented the depravity. Saliva drooled helplessly from your mouth and made it all the more sloppy. When your hand moved to cup and massage along his balls you were surprised to feel those already coated in your saliva.

"I'm close… gonna be good and swallow me whole?" He moaned, length somehow getting even fucking harder if that was even possible.

You weren't stopping to say anything back. Your other hand gripped onto whatever wasn't in your mouth and stroked along him firmly, still rolling his sack in your other. He took that as a yes.

The would-be Targaryen prince erupted down your throat with a string of muttered curses and praises. His lean body flexed and shuddered, toes twitching and curling as he rode the waves of climax. His hand had never clenched your hair again, yet it fell heavily like it was tired from holding a fist. "Christ, woman," he breathed, glowing.

You stood and wiped the back of your hand across your mouth. "Yeah," you replied dreamily as you plopped onto your back atop the bed; grinning like the sloppy blowjob gave you as much pleasure as it did him. Or, perhaps it was merely pride.

Both of you stayed like that for a minute – catching your breath. He rolled over. Those slim hips fit easily between your thighs as his hands planted heavily beside your head. A sly grin graced his chiseled features.

"You're already hard again?"

"Can't help it, pretty girl. You're too sexy," he answered, lining himself up with your eager opening. He wasted little time in pushing into you, hissing at the sensation. "God you're so fucking wet from sucking me off."

The stretch of your body around his girth stole your breath. He stilled to let your walls accommodate his size. "You're right. How could I have forgotten how good this cock makes me feel?" You whined up at him, spine arching beneath him tantalizingly. You were more than slick enough for his intrusion, and now you were full. Absolutely full of him. Slowly, he pulled out. Easily, he pushed back in. Your breath turned ragged and quick, lovely pressure building in your core until it moaned out of your red-smeared lips. "Shit, yes," you whimpered, nails digging into his back.

Leaning up, Aemond grabbed both of your ankles in a single hand and threw them over a shoulder. The new angle sent him railing toward your belly button. His cockhead dragged against that deep, deliciously sensitive spot, over and over, your pussy hot and perfect for his ravaging. "Taking me sooo well…," he praised between slapping skin and your cries of bliss. The palm of his free hand pushed down and splayed wide over your low belly; claiming and intensifying your pleasure.

The added pressure sent fire blazing through your senses. Orgasm consumed you quickly and harshly, and you squeezed the sheets in tight fists as he fucked you through it. The edge of your vision blurred with ecstasy.

"Fuck, yes," Aemond panted, sweat glistening on his brow. "Feel so fuckin' good squeezing me like that." His length harded like iron yet again, balls tightening in preparation for a second release. His pace grew sloppier as he chased his high.

"Fill me up, Aem," you cooed up at him, nodding fervently. "Do it, fill me up." Your voice broke off into syllables and mutters, eyes desperate.

Hearing that was all he needed. He twitched inside you, spilling ropes of his seed deep and shallow alike inside your greedy cunt. Finally, with his firm chest heaving, he let go of your ankles and eased out of you. He flopped onto his back beside you, grinning like a fool. "Alright, babe, you're on water and cleaning duty this time."

You giggled. Actually giggled. "In a minute." You laid on your side and cuddled against him, laying your head on his chest – his heart thumping powerfully below your cheek. A contented silence settled over both of you. He stroked your hair, and you his torso. Once his pulse calmed you leaned up and smiled at him. "That was seriously amazing, the fuck?" you said with a satisfied blush. On your dresser was a pile of clean washcloths you forgot to put away. You used one on yourself and tossed another to Aemond. "Be right back." You put on a new t-shirt and underwear before leaving.

When you came back with water and snacks, Aemond was already browsing through your Netflix. "It's all murder docs and shitty reality tv," he teased.

"Oh shut up," you retorted, rolling your eyes. "Here I brought you snacks and you're talking shit."

"Thanks," he said appreciatively. When you laid by him it was his turn to cuddle into you.

Eventually you decided on a horror movie neither of you had seen but agreed looked either really good or hilariously bad.

He stayed the night, and there may or may not have been a third round before sleep finally settled over your pleasantly exhausted bodies.

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider a follow and reblog as I have plans to create and share more writings ♥

here is my masterlist

taglist: @melsunshine @iiamthehybrid @arcielee @nina2697 @darylandbethfanforever9 @sahvlren @targaryenbrainrot @bellaisasleep @watercolorskyy @ruby-dragon @aemonds-fire @meggiemay82 @doublesparrows @silverwinged @nikstrange @tssf-imagines

To be added or removed, please let me know!

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #modern aemond #aemond x reader #aemond smut #modern aemond smut #aemond fic #fic

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hils79 · 8 months

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Hils Watches Mysterious Lotus Casebook - Ep 21

So apparently my Ep 20 Post isn't showing up on any of the tags for reasons I cannot fathom. Will anyone be able to see this post? Who even knows.

Yes, call him an asshole. Because that's what he is

Good lord. Qiao Wanmian just explained, quite clearly, that she doesn't have feelings for Li Xiangyi and that the problem is that Xiao Ziji is the one who can't let go of him. Then she explained her disappointment and anger that Xiao Zijin only took on the sect leader job to spite Li Xiangyi and not because he wants to help make the world a better place. Xiao Zijin, after hearing all this: This is all Li Xiangyi's fault

I legit gasped. I get so caught up in the drama of these things. They are definitely doing a good job of framing him.

I thought they were already married? Didn't everyone attend their wedding a couple of episodes ago?

Di Feisheng and Fang Duobing should bond over their love of teasing Li Lianhua about his ex girlfriend

Li Lianhua, who is half dead, slapped Di Feisheng, who is very strong, on the arm. He looks so hurt, and the way he grabbed his arm. He is baby.

I love that he doesn't ask any follow-up questions. 'My idiot twink is crazy, let's go and see what idiocy he's up to now'

This poor sweet boy. He's frantically trying to cure Di Feisheng's amnesia so he can help clear Li Xiangyi's name

LOL

God, I don't want to be there when he finds out just how much Li Lianhua has been lying to him

Oh he was in Immortal Samsara too

So a bunch of unique and interesting men have been invited to an island, they were drugged when they left so they wouldn't know where the place was, and no other men are allowed. Is this like Glass Onion? Is someone going to get murdered? It does feel like a while since they solved a crime

How dare you let a woman bathe you when I, your boyfriend, am right here

#hils watches #hils watches mysterious lotus casebook #hils watches cdramas #mysterious lotus casebook #cdrama

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rainbowrelyea · 6 months

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Supercorptober Day 21: "Lavender"

Read on A03 instead

Lena stands in the hallway playing nervously with the key in her hands. A key she’s surprised she still has. She's stood in front of this exact door a hundred (a thousand?) times, used the key to let herself in at least a few dozen times, probably more - yet here she was, unable to force herself to turn the knob. She’s not really sure how long she stands there, but at some point, she finally takes a deep breath to steady herself, squares her shoulders, and lets herself into Kara’s apartment.

It hurts more than she expected it to, being back here. The last time she was in this apartment Lena had come to tell Kara she was wrong about Non Nocere, to ask for forgiveness - and then ended up with Alex’s gun pointed at her head. It’s not exactly a fond memory. Before that, it had been nearly half a year, back when Lena still came over for movie nights and cuddles on the couch. Before Lena found out about Kara’s secret identity in the worst possible way and everything went to shit.

And now Kara is gone. The apartment is quiet and achingly empty without the joyful sound of her laughter to fill it up. It’s been three days since Lena’s deranged half-brother sent Kara to the phantom zone - fucking Lex - and the super friends still have no idea how to rescue her. Lena’s not sure Kara would even want her here, with their friendship still on rocky terms, but she just needed something , some kind of connection, some reminder to keep her from giving up hope.

The apartment hasn’t changed all that much from what Lena remembers, at least as far as she can tell. She walks slowly around the space, taking in all the details she’s seen so many times before, but that suddenly carry so much more weight now because the details are so uniquely Kara. The fluffy blankets on the couch. A blue coffee mug on the kitchen counter with a red supergirl logo and yellow writing that says “Have a SUPER day!” (a gift from Nia), and another mug next to it covered in a pattern of brightly colored donuts. The easel in the corner with some of Kara’s paintings propped against the legs and her box of painting supplies next to it. The assortment of different sized picture frames scattered throughout the spacious loft on various tables and shelves, filled with smiling photos of Kara’s family and friends. Lena stops short when she realizes the picture of her and Kara together is gone from the shelf where it used to sit. It shouldn’t surprise her, after all the hurt she caused, but it still stings - more than it should, considering Lena smashed her own framed picture of them with a whiskey glass. She squeezes her eyes shut and forces herself to swallow the lump forming in her throat.

For whatever reason, Lena decides to wander past the partition into the space Kara uses as her bedroom, running her hand over the familiar blue and green patterned comforter on Kara’s bed. When she glances at the bedside table, she feels her heart stop. Kara didn’t get rid of the picture of her and Lena - it’s right there, on the table next to her bed. Right where she would see it every morning and every night. But why? Why would she want to look at that after everything?

It’s all of a sudden too much for Lena, and she sinks down heavily on the edge of the bed. She can’t stop the hiccuping sob that claws its way out of her chest or the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, so she grabs one of Kara’s pillows and squeezes it to her body as tight as she can. As she does, her nose tingles with the lingering scent of lavender and vanilla. Kara. Years of being best friends (years of being in love with her best friend), Lena knows that scent, one she used to breathe in and try to memorize every time she and Kara shared a hug or snuggled up on the couch together.

She’d give anything to hug Kara again.

The sharp pang of her anguish cuts into her like a knife twisting in her stomach, and suddenly she feels like she is drowning under a tidal wave of emotions. She clutches desperately at Kara’s pillow and rocks herself back and forth, while she cries deep gasping sobs that feel like they are being ripped from her lungs. Her eyes burn from the hot tears that are now streaming relentlessly down her face, dripping onto the pillow and sliding down her neck to soak the collar of her shirt. Once again, she feels like her heart is being cracked open, but this, this is infinitely more painful. This isn’t just some fight between friends, this is her possibly losing Kara forever. She doesn’t think she can live with that possibility.

“I’m so sorry Kara.” Lena chokes out between labored breaths. “I’m so so sorry. This is all my fault. I promise I’ll find a way to bring you home. I promise.” Her voice cracks on the last words, her throat so raw she can barely speak above a whisper.

Lena cries until exhaustion wins out, until her body hurts as much as her heart, and she has no more tears left to cry. When her breathing finally returns to normal, she decides it’s time to pull herself together and go back to her own apartment. She can’t stay here any longer, it’s just too painful of a reminder of Kara’s absence, and Lena needs to be focused if she’s going to help the team find their missing friend. She breathes in one more deep breath of the lavender and vanilla scented pillow, trying to commit the smell to memory before she leaves.

She’s about to walk out the door when she stops herself. She turns around and walks back to the couch, where she picks up one of the fluffy blankets Kara always keeps there. One they used to share, with popcorn, and chinese takeout, and hot chocolate, and stories about their respective days. One that still smells like Kara. She takes it with her so she can have just one little piece of Kara to hold onto, a reminder of what she used to have, of who she is still fighting for.

———

When Lena gets back to her penthouse, she carefully removes the picture of her and Kara from the broken frame and puts it in a new one. She falls asleep with Kara’s blanket wrapped around her and the picture clutched to her chest.

———

Lena returns to Kara’s loft a week later when the blanket finally loses its scent. Kara is still gone, and the apartment is still too quiet and lifeless. Lena’s heart still feels like it’s been hacked open by a dull axe.

She lets herself curl up on the couch for a moment, finding the other blanket she had left here last time and pulling it tightly around her, breathing in the familiar smell. She imagines Kara cozying up on the couch next to her, socked feet tucked under her legs, her head resting on Lena’s shoulder, blonde hair tickling her neck. She thinks about all the times she wished their cuddling would turn into something more, how she wished she could have had the courage to tell Kara how she felt.

“Kara…” she pleads to the void. “Please come back Kara. I’m so sorry. For everything. I miss you so much.”

“Please… I love you.”

The blanket is wet with tears when the whispered confession floats away into the silence of the empty apartment.

———

Lena ends up staying at Kara’s apartment. She told herself it would be too painful, but it turns out her crippling misery was determined to follow her no matter where she went. So she surrenders, and just lets herself be surrounded by everything Kara. It hurts, but there are also happy memories here, ones Lena wants to hold close to her heart for as long as possible.

———

Another week and a half drags by, and then by some miracle, the super friends are finally able to rescue Kara from the phantom zone (with help from Lena’s yellow sun grenades, which she is very proud of, as she should be). When Kara stumbles onto the ship and collapses into her sister’s arms, everyone can tell that she is physically and emotionally drained. There’s no time for pleasantries or conversation - Kara needs to be taken as quickly as possible to the med bay for a full exam and to get her onto a yellow sun bed so her body can begin to heal.

It’s two full days later when Kara is finally recovered enough for the super friends to throw her a welcome back party at the Tower. Meanwhile, Lena’s anxiety is at an all-time high. Her and Kara’s friendship was in a shaky place when everything went down with Lex, and Lena doesn’t know if Kara blames her for what happened. She doesn’t know what Kara may have experienced in the phantom zone and how that might affect her. Trauma does strange things to people, Lena knows that from firsthand experience. Is Kara even the same person anymore? Will Kara still want Lena in her life?

The first positive sign is that when Kara enters the common room to the sight of donuts, flowers, balloons, and her friends and family gathered around, her face immediately breaks out into a genuine Kara Danvers smile, all full of white teeth, dimples on display and eyes crinkling at the corners. She still seems a bit tired and perhaps a little more reserved than usual, but otherwise very much still herself, and everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief.

Kara works her way around the room exchanging hugs, each team member expressing their joy at having her back, and Kara expressing her own joy and gratitude in return. Lena is the last one left, and she feels her heart flutter and her throat go dry when Kara’s eyes meet hers. The superhero nods her head towards Lena with a fond smile and her arms open wide, and it takes all of Lena’s willpower to force herself to walk when all she wants to do is run at full speed into Kara’s warm embrace. When their bodies finally meet and they melt into each other, everything feels right again. Like all the empty spaces in Lena’s heart are being filled back up and every ache and pain in her soul is being soothed by Kara’s presence. She’s home. She’s home. She’s finally home.

“It’s only because you’re on the team that I’m here,” Kara murmurs in Lena’s ear. She squeezes her so tightly it almost hurts, but Lena just squeezes back as tightly as her own strength will allow her. She feels the tears sliding down her cheeks and takes a deep breath through her sniffles, trying her best to hold herself together. When Kara finally pulls back, she pauses for a moment, her hands drifting to Lena’s shoulders. She cocks her head to the side and looks at Lena with a soft smile on her face and a gentle question in her eyes. “Your scent… vanilla and lavender…?”

Lena knows exactly what she is asking, because Lena usually smells like her expensive perfume, or her coconut and hibiscus scented shampoo. And there are a thousand ways Lena wants to answer that question, a thousand things she wants to tell Kara that she can’t put into words just yet. So she tries to pour all her emotions into a single sentence, and hopes Kara understands. She bites her lip to stop it from quivering and gives a tiny shrug, before she answers in a small shaky voice. “I really missed you.” She ducks her head down and tries to swallow, her throat constricted with emotion. She gathers what courage she can to open herself up, to lift her head and make another confession, whispered so softly only Kara can hear her. “The only thing that kept me going was the hope that I would get to see you again.”

Kara is silent for a minute as she stares into Lena’s glassy green eyes, her own tear-brimmed blue eyes searching Lena’s face for some hidden truth. Lena wills her to find it, to see all the love Lena holds in her heart for her. She wills Kara to hear the way that same heart is currently hammering against her ribs, even while it feels like it's stuck in her throat.

When it seems like Kara has found what she is looking for, she whispers back, her own voice cracking just a little. “I really missed you too.”

There’s a weight to the way Kara says it, the words feeling charged with hidden significance. Lena's thoughts go to the picture of them she found on Kara’s nightstand, and wonders - could she…? Now it’s her turn to search Kara’s face for answers, and as she does, she finds herself looking into a longing gaze, blue eyes filled with overwhelming affection, and sparking with a sudden fire she’s never seen before. Kara moves her right hand from Lena’s shoulder to softly cup the side of her face, her thumb gently wiping away a tear from her cheek. Lena lets her eyes flutter closed for a second as she leans into the warm touch. There’s a moment between them, a low buzzing electric current connecting their bodies, air thick with anticipation, a silent conversation with their eyes. Kara's eyes flit to Lena's lips, nodding her head almost imperceptibly, and then she leans her body closer to Lena’s, drawing them both towards the inevitable.

The collision course they are on is abruptly derailed by Alex, completely oblivious to the moment of intimacy she just interrupted. “Apologies from Kelly, she really wishes she could be here, but she had a full day of orientation at Social Services.”

Lena reluctantly steps back to allow the sisters to talk, but she can’t help noticing the way Kara's shoulders droop ever so slightly, and the look of disappointment on her face. A sentiment Lena definitely shares.

(What she doesn’t see is the way Alex glances between her and Kara, and the fleeting moment of realization in the older Danvers’ eyes, followed immediately by a quick flash of guilt, as she puts two and two together).

The moment is over though. Conversation moves on, and everyone goes about their business as if nothing happened. And as far as everyone is concerned, nothing did happen - only Lena and Kara are privy to the wordless declarations that passed between them.

But it did happen, and it gives Lena hope. More hope than she’s had in a long time. And she knows there are conversations to be had. Her and Kara need to talk about their fight, and how to trust each other again. Lena should probably explain why she was sleeping in Kara’s apartment. Clearly they need to discuss the feelings it seems they both have for each other, with actual words this time. (though perhaps some of those feelings could be expressed in other ways…)

She knows Kara will need to heal from the emotional and physical trauma of being in the phantom zone, and that alone could prove to be a difficult obstacle to overcome. There’s still a long road ahead of them, and most likely not an easy one.

But for now, Kara is home, and that’s enough.

#supercorptober #supercorptober2023 #supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #supercorp fanfic #phantom zone #lots of feelings #kinda angsty #hopeful ending #lena luthor needs a hug #lonely lena luthor #oblivious alex danvers

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thesims3help · 5 months

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Sims 3 - Gameplay enhancing mods: CAS, Build/Buy, World, Objects + Chores & Services.

A category-based mod post. Mods and links previously featured in our Masterlist. All credits to their rightful owners.

Categories include: CAS, BB mode, (Edit) World, game objects related mods, along with chore fixes and new services.

CAS:

Truely Unique Sims

o violet on Tumblr - Pure CAS lighting mod

The Sims 3 [cas background, cas lighting mod, & cas organizers] | Patreon

CAS Sim Bin Genetics as Presets

CAS Lighting Edit

ColorLash: Eyelashes Match Eyebrow Color + Mascara

XCAS core mod: more tattoo locations, edit naked outfit, slider hack, body hair, more

Build/Buy:

One More Slot Please! (with vertical shifting)

[TS3] Catalog Search Mod | Patreon

Add Any Lot Size

No More Free Roofs by Gurra (simlogical.com)

TS3 HD Textures Series - Terrain Pack [UPDATE: Fixed road tiling]

Builder Stuff

Reworked & Improved EA Lights

Lazy Duchess — [TS3] Auto Lights Overhaul (tumblr.com)

More Light Coming Through Windows

Microwave Slots

Railings on Spiral Staircases!

Stuff on the Back of the Toilet

More 1-tile Dressers!

Decorate 6 Base Game Dressers - with more slots

"Stuff on the Fridge" Mod

What's On Your Stereo?

Showbiz, Profession & Other Trophies for Displays & Pedestals

Floor Plants Placeable On Slots [BG & SEAS]

More Slots for EA Furniture - End Tables, Coffee Tables, Windows, Bookshelves & More

Midnight Hollow Toys and All Teddies on Surfaces

Horse Trophies for Display Cases

Shelves + Extras Shift & Hide With Walls Down

So Many Shiftables! And a little more.

Shiftable Curtains

'Cortinas Festivas!' and 'Traditional Curtains' Blind Fix UPDATED!

Shiftable Televisions

Shiftable Skill and Partnership Certificates

Shiftable drafting table sketches

Fountain and Hot Tub Fixes by sydserious (simlogical.com)

Base Game Half Walls FIXED!!!!

Dangerous Stoves Mod - More Fire!

Objects:

Collection Icons and Files

Functional Washboard - Sims 4 Conversion

Harvestable Tree Default Replacement

More Harvestables

Buyable Mermadic Kelp

Same Energy Gain For Every Bed

Super Hampers -- Automatic Laundry Pick Up (Plus Bigger Hampers) by Nona Mena (simlogical.com)

Spring Harvest And CookBook

Harvestable Flowers

Better Hoverboards

Canning Station Overhaul

The Transmogrifier (aka Object Script Changer)

New and Improved 9/11/21] Functioning Well - and Off-Grid Plumbing!

No Crappy Bunk Beds!

Default Umbrellas & Parasols

Default Taxis

Digital Photo Frame Overlay Replacement

Unlocked Permanent Tents for Residential and Community Lots

Wildflower Sell Price Nerf

Buyable Beach Towels (with custom script)

Vending Machine Tweaks

Salvaged Junkyard Objects Made Usable

Make those elevators go faster! Or slower...

Toilet Tweaks

Fairy House motive tuning: Bladder and Hygiene

Buyable Culinary Career Rewards: MinusOne Kelvin Fridge by Nona Mena (simlogical.com)

[WA] Buyable Permanent Sultan's Tabernacle (Scripted object) by Nona Mena (simlogical.com)

[SEAS] Gift Pile Tweaks by Nona Mena (simlogical.com)

[SEAS] Buyable Bunch o' Gifts (Gift Pile) by Nona Mena (simlogical.com)

Motorcycle Parking Spaces

World:

Reduce/Remove Lag caused by Houseboats

SetHour Cheat

Lot Population Mod

TS3 Apartment mod - Updated for patch 1.55 - 1.63/1.67

nraas - Apartment Mod

Invisible Sim Fixer Mod by Consort (simlogical.com)

RPG Manager - Edit your Bin sims, towns and Active household!

NPCRomance

Space Rock Spawner Edit

Lunar Lakes missing EP rabbit holes by Darkitow (simlogical.com)

Auto-place official festival lots in later Store worlds

AMB Community Lots Auto Placement Fix + Add Other Lots (Compatible with Patch 1.63-1.67)

Chores + Services:

Gardener Service 2

Housekeeper Service - v1.2

Housecleaning For All Sims

Dirty Laundry Mod (Update 8/8/23) - Maid & Butler Tweaks

Butler & Maid will Feed Pets & Clean All Pets.

DouglasVeiga's Dancer Service

#the sims 3 #sims 3 #ts3 mods #sims 3 mods #post 7

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tamapalace · 2 months

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Tamagotchi Shop Coming to Osaka & Fukuoka Bandai Namco Cross Stores in Japan!

Tamagotchi Shop in Bandai Namco Cross Store Osaka Umeda

The Tamagotchi Original takeover is well underway! It appears that the popularity we’ve seen in the western region is rubbing off on Japan. Bandai Japan has announced two new Tamagotchi Shops have in both Osaka and Fukuoka Japan that are scheduled to open soon!

These stores will sell a selection of Tamagotchi Original’s from the American and European markets. These two shops will join the existing Tamagotchi Shop in the Bandai Namco Cross Store Tokyo that already boasts a sweet Tamagotchi Shop.

First is the Osaka Tamagotchi Shop that will open in the Bandai Namco Cross Store Osaka Umeda. This location opens on Friday, March 15th, 2024. Business hours are 11:00 - 21:00, and the location address is 5-15 Kakuda-cho, Kita-ku, Osaka City, Osaka Prefecture HEP FIVE 8F.

Tamagotchi Shop in Bandai Namco Cross Store Hakata

Second is the Fukuoka Tamagotchi Shop that will open in the Bandai Namco Cross Store Hakata. This location opens on Wednesday, March 20th, 2024 with business hours set for 10:00 - 21:00. The address is Place: 1-2-74 Sumiyoshi, Hakata-ku, Fukuoka-shi, Fukuoka Prefecture Canal City Hakata South Building B1F.

All three shops total carry 16 Tamagotchi Original shells for ¥3,080, which are limited 2 per person. They will be carrying the Tamagotchi Uni is all three colors pink, purple, and blue for ¥8,250, they’ll even have the lanyards in unique black and unique marble for ¥1,100. Then they’ll have the Tamagotchi Uni bands in both cuber black and future white for ¥1,320, and lastly the Tamagotchi disposable camera for ¥3,500 (limited one per person). All prices include tax.

If you scan the QR code at any of the stores, you will get an automated reality photo frame that you can enjoy taking photos with like you are in the a Tamagotchi! How awesome is that?

#tamapalace #tamagotchi #tmgc #tamatag #virtualpet #bandai #tamagotchishop #tamagotchi shop #bandainamcocross #bandai namco cross #japan #osaka #fukuoka #store

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frida-kahl-of-the-rocky-horror · 5 months

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I saw this back when I used to use Reddit (for animal crossing and trans+ stuff mostly), and I felt so honoured that they used my Florida flag redesign in this that I screenshotted it. But when I looked to find the original poster, they had deleted the post (likely because of negative replies, vexillology Reddit is scary).

They recreated the state flags to be more about symbolism and individuality rather than about aesthetics (which is the problem I see with a lot of over simplified state flags). All while keeping the flags that actually carry deep meaning and are beloved by the residents.

I’m not the biggest fan of Nebraska’s, Virginia’s, and Wisconsin’s, but all the others are wonderful (especially Florida’s… I will not apologize for being biased lol)

The original Reddit person’s caption:

“I kept some flags which I believe are currently great. Most of them are all over State merchandise, and people of these states carry a lot of state pride for these flags. They are:

1. Alabama

2. Alaska

3. Arizona

4. Arkansas

5. California

6. Colorado

7. lowa

8. Maryland

9. Mississippi

10. Missouri

11. New Mexico

12. Ohio, my home state! [not mine, OPs]

13. Rhode Island

14. South Carolina

15. Tennessee

16. Texas

17. Utah

18. Wyoming

19. District of Columbia [I believe you mean the Douglass Commonwealth]

20. Guam

21. The Northern Mariana Islands

22. Puerto Rico

I've switched some State’s boring Seal on a Bedsheet flags into their more popular historical ones. They are:

23. Conecticut ~ New England Flag

24. Hawaii ~ Kanaka Maoli

25. Maine ~ Original State Flag

26. Vermont ~ Green Mountain Boys Flag

27. Virginia ~ Gadsden Flag

28. West Virginia ~ Original State Flag

I've made a few tweaks to some existing flags so they look more unique / are more easily recognizable. They are:

29. Indiana ~ Golden Frame

30. New Jersey ~ Added Stripes

31. North Carolina ~ Un-Tex-ified

32. Oklahoma ~ Added Stripes

33. American Samoa ~ Added Southern Cross

I designed some using the Pan Cascade colours for the Pacific Northwest (BC will have the tree one). They are:

34. Idaho

35. Oregon

36. Washington

I borrowed some other designs which I found on here which I found beautiful. I mostly looked for flags which were designed by locals from the states that they are redesigning or included state symbols on their old flags. They are:

37. Florida [omg they chose mine!!!]

38. Georgia

39. Kansas

40. Kentucky

41. Louisiana

42. Michigan

43. Montana

44. Nevada

45. New Hampshire

46. New York

47. North Dakota [I prefer my communist flag better wajajaja]

48. Pennsylvania

49. South Dakota

50. Wisconsin

51. Virgin Islands

I left the flags currently in the process of a redesign blank, for, given the recent track record, any new flags are probably going to look amazing like Utah’s and Mississippi’s. They are:

52. Illinois [this is your reminder to vote for your new state flag if you’re from this state!!!]

53. Massachusetts [this is your reminder to vote for your new state flag if you’re from this state!!!]

54. Minnesota [this is your reminder to vote for your new state flag if you’re from this state!!!]

I kept one Seal on a Bedsheet flag to honour this horrid time in American vexillological history. That is:

55. Delaware

And lastly

56. Nebraska (idk)”

While I agree with most of the OP’s opinions, I think Nebraska’s flag would look better if it looked something like this:

Better designed of course, I made this on Pic Collage in like 5 minutes

Im not sure about Wisconsin and Virginia, I just know I’m not the biggest fan of either (since Virginia’s flag has a separate meaning and Wisconsin’s is just bland.

Let me know what you think!

And if you’re the OP of this, please let me know, I like your choices!!

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animefeminist · 5 months

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Scholars Kim Hanjae and Kim Jongik on sharing manhwa globally

Manhwa has seen a huge boom with English-language audiences over the past several years. A few manhwa titles were localized during the manga boom of the 2000s, largely through Tokyopop, but online subscription service WEBTOON changed the game when it launched its global version in July 2014—beating Shonen Jump to the launch of their app by two months. Webtoons held a unique allure compared to online manga available at the time: they’re predominantly fully colored and formatted to be read on mobile, and services like Lezhin Comics featured an addictive pay-by-the-chapter model.

Though South Korea’s relationship with Japan remains fraught to this day, bans on Japanese media in Korea were lifted in the 1990s; and since the Webtoon boom, manhwa have become increasingly popular subjects for adaptation into anime, from The Tower of God and Why Raeliana Ended Up at the Duke’s Mansion to the upcoming Solo Leveling. And yet, there continues to be a relative dearth of manhwa-related guests invited to American conventions.

Otakon 2023 decided to address this dearth by inviting several manhwa artists and experts, two of whom sat down with us for an interview. Kim Hanjae is a Manhwa, Animation, and Contents professor at Gangdong University whose convention biography described her as “one of Korea’s top Otaku professors. She debuted as a manhwaga at the age of 21 and majored in Cartooning at the School of Visual Arts in New York. She has a master’s degree in animation and a PhD in Emotional Engineering.” Speaking through a translator, she elaborated on her study of emotional engineering as approaching the technical construction of art, marketing, and AI through the frame of human experience.

Read it at Anime Feminist!

#manhwa #webtoon #tower of god #the god of high school #the tarot cafe #articles

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consanguinitatum · 7 months

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David Tennant's Obscure Performances: His Involvement with Read Not Dead (pt 1) - Edward III

A lot of you are aware that for the better part of a decade I've done research on David's early Scottish theatre work (80s/90s). I've found a ton of info and am in slooooow development on a podcast aimed at sharing my discoveries. But not ALL my research lands squarely in those years. I've learned about plenty of DT's theatre projects which fall outside of the years my podcast covers. So it occurred to me - since I'm not planning to do a podcast about those years, why not share some interesting tidbits? Let's dive in! By January of 1999, David was living in London and beginning a two month run at the Almeida's Albery Theatre as Pavel in Vassa (a comic portrait of a powerful iron-willed matriarch who sees her family destroyed by the very values that she seeks to preserve.) So he was busy, yes? Not busy enough, apparently, because he agreed to join thirteen other actors to do a one-off staged reading of a play often attributed to Shakespeare as a co-writer - called Edward III.

David in rehearsal as Pavel in Vassa: Scenes From Family Life, 1999

Edward III was part of a series of performances the Education Department of Shakespeare's Globe Theatre had been doing since the early 1990s called Read Not Dead (heretofore referred to as RND). Their website has this to say about their mission: "Read Not Dead is a multi-decade project run by Shakespeare’s Globe, one in which we plan to perform every single ‘unknown’ play that has survived in print, from the accession of Queen Elizabeth I in 1558, to the closing of the theatres in 1642. Some plays from history deserve to be read, not dead." (By the by, RND is still active today! I encourage you to read more about their mission and the plays they've performed by going to the Read Not Dead website.) Performing in an RND play was a unique challenge for an actor. RND performances were staged readings, so actors didn't do the traditional rehearsals. Instead, they received scripts only a few days ahead of the performance. The project's website explains it like so: "The rules of the project have always been simple, experimental, and completely unique. Whilst approaching one individual play, the group does so within one single day. In the morning, the company meets for the first time and throughout the day they work with a Director and experiment with props and costume. Often music is also composed within the short time-frame, too. By the afternoon, the play is put up on its feet and presented as a script-in-hand performance to a live audience." Additionally, most RND plays were performed on Sundays (traditionally the only day off for most performing actors in the theatre circuit, this made the full day's preparation possible.) These challenges almost certainly appealed to David for a number of reasons: 1) it was a one-off performance with a tight schedule, 2) we all know how he feels about Shakespeare, and 3) the Globe! When an opportunity came for him to play a role in or around that great structure, certainly one imagines he sprung at the chance! So on 21 February 1999, David played the role of Edward, Prince of Wales (aka the Black Prince) at the Globe Theatre Education Centre/Inigo Jones Theatre. The performance was on a Sunday - that day, the group met at 10a for a run-through, and at 3p they went onstage. It was directed by Clive Brill (who - fun fact - has since worked with David on many things, including the radio dramas The Order of Release, The Island, Murder in Samarkand, The Purple Land, and the two part Afternoon Play series Stevenson in Love). Now for a treat. Want to see a page from the programme? Ask, and ye shall receive! (Thanks and credit to the Shakespeare's Globe Archive for the digitized programme, which you can see in further detail here.)

This performance was recorded, and I've actually listened to it! (sadly, the audio is only of the first two acts - for some reason, Acts 3 and 4 are missing.) I found it quite well done, especially considering the short amount of time the company of actors had to rehearse. You can listen to the recording of the performance and others from the series, as the recordings are archived in the Globe Archive and Library in London. Access to the archive is available by appointment only for professionals and academics affiliated with institutions of higher education.

Now.....some astute DT fans might be aware that while Edward III was the first time DT worked with the RND project, it wouldn't be his last. Very true! He was to go on and work with the project three more times. We'll explore those in more detail in future posts.

#DavidTennant #ObscureDavidTennantPerformances #ReadNotDead #DavidTennantEarlyTheatre #EdwardIII

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xandriagreat · 10 months

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Modern Nimona

Chapter 1: The Beginning of Hurt

First Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: When a college graduate is framed for a crime that he didn’t do and the only people who are helping him is a science friend from college and a shapeshifting lab rat named Nimona.

Author’s note: This story/fic is a modern day au of Nimora (both book and movie). Also this fic/story is a two person writing, the co-writer is @vanessafangirl13

Notice/warnings: kissing, rudeness, death, decapitating

▪▪▪

June 15th, 2013,

It was graduation day at the University Institute Of Gloreth.

A young 21-year-old man with dark brown skin, a beginning of a short mustache and goatee, and short, dark hair, was in his usual plain white t-shirt, brown sweatpants, and black army boots, looking at the screens as he was packing the last of his stuff from his dorm.

He was a young man who showed promise ever since he was a kid. He worked his way up into the university but not meant it with the controversy of his college and schools knowing he was the only one who was born poor at the university that only accepted famous and rich people.

He was about to finish the last box when he heard a familiar voice ask, “You excited?”

"Yeah." He said with nervousness in his voice, looking a bit down before looking at the person.

The voice revealed to be his boyfriend, Ambrosius Goldenloin, an East Asian man with short, blonde hair curled over the left side of his head in a pompadours style, with the rest of his hair shaved close to his scalp, and dark and short, dark beard over his chin.

Ambrosius walked over to him, wanting to make sure his boyfriend was ok. “Want to talk about it, Bal?” he asked as he got to him.

"Yeah, it's just-" Bal tried to speak, "I can't believe it, 4 years have passed by so fast, and now we're graduating and going to the real world."

They begin sitting down on the bed, which is now just a mattress and bed frame.

Ambrosius nodded and held his hand, gently rubbing it. “There is more, isn't there?” he asked, looking at him. “Ballister, I see that you’re scared. ”

Ballister was quiet for a bit as he looked down. “What if… what if they hate me?”

His boyfriend is understanding why Ballister was scared. “You’ve worked so hard for this,” Ambrosius said, putting a gentle hand on his cheek. “They’ll love you.”

"You think so?" Ballister asked with hope in his voice as he looked at Ambrosius. “Yes,” Ambrosius answered, nodding softly.

Ballister begins to smile warmly and kisses him on the lips.

☆Later☆

Everyone was getting ready for the day of the graduation

Some were taking pictures, some were excited about the next chapter in their lives, and others talking with their families

Bal was getting his graduation gown ready which is unique, while most of the university's graduation wear only had white gold and silver, his was different having a more black accent into his suit while his boyfriend had more gold in his as well.

"Well, we finally made it after 4 years," said Meredith Blitzmeyer, a tall Romani woman, with warm brown skin, long gray hair tied back in a ponytail, and rounded gold frame glasses over her gorgeous blue eyes. "The future has come."

“Oh, hey Meredith.” Ballister said, looking at her with a smile.

"Well, Ballister, future graduate of the era." Meredith jokes. She has been a bit of a jokester since high school. But at least her jokes were appropriate, unlike another classmate that was also graduating who happens to be a bully.

"More like a loser." A man named Thaddeus Sureblade jokes, he's the one with short brown hair, pale skin, and green eyes. He had always been a bully to the three, mostly to Ballister.

"Ugh! Not you again." Meredith ground, crossing her arms, knowing he was her ex-boyfriend. They broke up a month ago after finding out that he was a jerk, trying to make him his trophy wife, and almost a bad manly macho after dating for a year. She already moved on but Thaddeus was a bit still in the denial stage of a breakup.

“Hey, I was just coming over to talk with Ballister.” Thaddeus started, smiling his best prize smile.

"Well, then, go ahead." Meredith said, glaring at him.

Thaddeus put an arm around Ballister’s shoulders and said, “Look, when I first saw you at the Institute, I thought that you were just a nobody.”

Ballister looked at him like he was going to say more. “And?”

Meredith began putting her hands on her hips and raise her eyebrow, tapping her foot, waiting for an answer

Thaddeus noticed that and didn’t want to get her too mad. “I’m not going to answer that.” he said, popping his lips. Thaddeus got his arm off of Ballister and shoved him a bit as he walked away.

Meredith and Ambrosius caught Ballister before he fell on the floor and helped him stand up.

“Thanks.” Ballister said to them.

Ambrosius nodded to him and smiled. “No problem.”

“I still can’t believe that I dated him.” Meredith muttered under her breath.

Just then, The Director of the University opened the doors, smiling at the graduating class of 2013.

Everyone began to line up as the Director entered the room.

It was revealed to be a tall and thin woman with pale skin, a long neck. her blonde hair in a long braided ponytail, black eyes. She wore a yellow business coat over a white blouse, matching yellow ankle-length long skirt, brown stockings, and black 3-inch high heels. She's a serious and kind woman.

“Everyone,” the Director started as she looked at the soon to be graduating students, “today is an important day. Not only are you all graduating but we have our first rise to the top student graduating.”

She smiled at Ballister, who nodded to her. “Thank you, Director.” Ballister said, smiling.

Then the Director clapped her hands together and said, “Now, everyone needs to finish up and get to the stage.”

Everyone did as they were told.

Ambrosius got his scabbard on his belt before getting his family’s sword from his locker.

It was traditional of the Goldenloin family to carry the sword that Glorth carried throughout the war for special occasions, like today.

Ambrosius looked at Ballister and smiled softly. “You ready?” he asked.

“I will be. I just need to wait for my ring.” Ballister said. “You can go ahead.”

"Ok. We will be waiting for you." Meredith said, fixing her cap.

Ambrosius and Meredith went out as Diego, a man with light brown skin, brown eyes, and blonde hair styled in a short mohawk, came in.

Diego was the Jeweler of Ballister’s ring.

“Hi.” Ballister said, smiling at him.

"Hi. Sorry about that, I was just finding the ring which took a while." Diego said, giving him the ring

“It’s alright.” Ballister reassured as he got the ring from him.

The University ring was a silver ring. It had some gems all around it, with the top gem being a beautiful red. There was gold writing on the inside of the ring. The writing said, ‘Send the darkness back into the shadows to see the light’.

It’s the main motto of the university and of the city in case there is danger of any kind that comes in.

Ballister smiled softly as he put it on his right ring finger. It felt different than before when he wore it last time but he didn’t mind it.

Before Ballister went out, Diago stopped him for a moment. "Umm, sir." Diago started, about to get out of his phone. "I-"

“Ballister.” the Director said, walking back in. Both Ballister and Diago looked at her as the Director said, “It’s almost time. You need to get with the other students.”

Ballister nodded as he went out with everyone.

☆

They went outside just in time for the graduation ceremony. As the music began to play, the three friends already imagined their future like everyone else.

The mayor is the special guest for the graduation.

The mayor was a woman with brown skin, black eyes, and long white hair tied in a tight bun, wearing a white blouse and blue pantsuit with gold and red accents and blue high heels heading to the stand.

She was the one to request Ballister to go to the Institute and his adoptive mother.

After everyone got the diploma, everyone clapped for the graduated students. Then everyone sat down as the mayor got up and went to the microphone. “Everyone,” she started, smiling at everyone, “I am so proud of this graduating class. This class has someone special. This person works all the way up. This person is my son, Ballister Boldheart.”

The spotlight pointed at Ballister and he began to stand up with everyone looking at him.

Then everyone cheered for him as he smiled and walked up to his mother.

Meredith got her phone and begin recording him, smiling big.

Ballister hugged the mayor before he turned to the microphone. “Thank you, Mother.” Ballister said into the microphone.

Mayor Valerin began grabbing a small box from her pocket, and then opened up to reveal a beautiful ring server and even with an obsidian gem with red spots on it, It was a family heirloom that has been in her family for generations.

Ballister looked at it and smiled at his mother. He started to reach with his right hand.

Then all of the sudden, Ballister’s University ring started to shake his hand as the top gem turned from white to green appeared at the top and shot a beam blasted through the mayor's body.

Everyone gasped in shock.

“Mom!” Ballister exclaimed in shock.

His friends came just in time, his boyfriend tried to stop but accidentally got the beam cut off by cutting Ballister's right arm off.

Ballister fell to the ground, holding his now cut arm, bleeding as Meredith came to check on him.

Bal and Meredith begin hearing people panicking and screaming seeing their mayor hurt.

"Are you ok?" Meredith asked worriedly.

“I…” Ballister started but was interrupted by someone yelling, “The mayor is dead!”

Meredith grabbed something from her bag that she was carrying, it was a smoke bomb, she began throwing it and a puff of green smoke blew.

"Let's go." Meredith said, taking Ballister by his other hand and they ran out and away from the graduation grounds.

Ambrosius watched them run out worriedly. “How did this even happen?” he asked himself as he looked at the crime scene.

☆

Ballister and Meredith ran into an alleyway.

“Ok, I think that we’re safe now.” Meredith panted as she caught her breath and looked at Ballister.

Ballister still held his cut arm as he sat down. His arm was still bleeding a lot.

Meredith got a med kit out of her bag and tented the wound. “Here we go.” she said as she finished wrapping the bandages around it.

Ballister looked at the wrapped up wound before looking back at Meredith as she said, "We gotta get out of this place."

“I’m sorry… ‘We’?” Ballister repeated to see if he heard her right.

“Yes. ‘We’, Ballister.” Meredith said, helping him up. "We need to get out of this place."

“Meredith…” Ballister started as he sighed and looked down. “You can’t just drop everything for me. You’ll be hunted too and never get to be the scientist that you wanted to be.”

“Ballister, look at me.” Meredith said, lifting his head up. “I know that you’re innocent and that you didn’t kill your mother… and I am going to help to prove that.”

They begin hearing the news all over the city of the death of the mayor and that Ballister was a killer.

“Come on.” Meredith said to Ballister, holding his hand. "I'll call someone I know to help us and where we can go."

#ballister boldheart #ballister blackheart #ambrosius goldenloin #meredith blitzmeyer #thaddeus sureblade #Modern Nimona #Modern Nimona au #Nimona #nimona fic #todd sureblade

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chaosintheavenue · 1 year

Text

Ghoul Survey Results!

The Ghoul Survey managed to collect 110 responses (thank you all!). The nature of the data means that pie charts aren't working very well to display it coherently, so I'm just going to present the numbers as they are.

Without further ado...

Favourite companion:

Raul: 35 Hancock: 31 Charon: 24 Dean Domino: 9 Lenny: 4 Otto Steed (VB): 4 Herbert: 3 Billy-Bob: 3 Measles (VB): 2 Chris the Ghoulrilla: 2

Favourite non-companion character:

Gob: 20 Kent Connolly: 9 Jason Bright: 8 Beatrix Russell: 8 Daisy: 7 Carol: 5 Harold (proclaimed by one respondent as an 'honorary ghoul'): 5 Desmond Lockheart: 3 Arlen Glass: 3 Rotface: 3 Oswald the Outrageous: 3 Eddie Winter: 2 Tulip: 2 Calamity: 2 Wiseman: 2 Dr Sebastian (VB): 2 Harland: 2 Ghoulrillas generally: 2 Ghoul NCR soldiers generally: 2

And as always, a list of those with one vote: Tommy Ten-Toes, Bessie Lynn, Hadrian, Keely, Typhon, Snowflake, Talius, Skeeter, Set, Bobbi No-Nose, Vault-Tec Rep, Griffon, T-Minus, Betty Hill, Zhao, Ghoulified!Moira Brown, Sun of Atom, Greta, Argyle, Eugenie, Billy Peabody, and Bert Gunnarsson

Favourite settlement/faction:

Underworld: 49 Necropolis: 21 The Bright Brotherhood: 14 The Slog: 13 Gecko: 4 Kiddie Kingdom: 3 Kansas City/Gravestone: 2 The Reservation (VB): 1 Camp Searchlight: 1 Eugenie's ghoul settlement: 1 Broken Hills: 1

Do all ghouls eventually turn feral?

No: 97 Yes: 12

What causes ghouls to turn feral?

General level of radiation exposure post-ghoulification: 25 Social isolation: 22 The circumstances of how they ghoulified in the first place: 11 Reliance on radiation instead of food as an energy source: 10 Genetics: 9 Other: 23

Within the Other category, most said a combination of some or all of the above factors, or pure random chance. Other theories included…

Level of FEV exposure

The person's personality and morality pre-ghoulification

Infections and how well the ghoul cares for their wounds

A form of dementia

Psychic/supernatural phenomena

Brain chemistry pre-ghoulification

Level of mental duress post-ghoulification

Their level of internal connection to their own humanity

Ghouls cannot physically starve, but do feel hunger. If they don't eat for too long, they get a severe case of 'hangry' and turn feral

(Looking through the theories on this question caused me to suddenly and violently remember the glaringly absent 'What causes ghoulification in the first place?' question I'd planned to include… I guess that leaves room for Ghoul Survey 2: Electric Boogaloo?)

Do ghouls still physically need to eat, drink, sleep, all the basics?

Yes, to survive: 71 Yes, to avoid turning feral: 30 No: 9

If a child became ghoulified, would they remain child-sized, or grow?

Remain child-sized: 53 Grow to adult size as a human would: 39 Other: 18

The contents of the Other category, in loose order of how common each theory was:

They would grow to an extent, but not to what their human height would have been, and will likely have a unique appearance generally

They would eventually grow to an adult size, but over an extremely long time frame

The ghoulification process is so unique to each individual that it's impossible to predict what would happen, especially in an exceptional case like this

Children are so unlikely to survive ghoulification in the first place that asking this question is essentially irrelevant

Feral ghoul children would grow, others would not

And now we come to the final question, the blank text box. I'll add a handpicked selection of the original comments and a brief ship count under the cut for brevity's sake:

I have 3 ghoul OCs that came to life because of a joke me and my friend had. They're a group of prewar cheerleaders turned borderline raider gang. They're like 17/18 year old girls. […] So all in all while all the rest of my OCs are dying and barely getting by they're sunbathing by a murky, algae filled pool with silly sunglasses and crappy cocktails. Oh and yeah,they kept their uniforms and wear them all the time.

Ghouls have one of the most heart breaking stories. Especially the Pre-War ones. They watched many (if not all) of their friends and family die in one way or another. The best in universe example of how mentally draining being a Pre-War ghoul was is in Oswalds terminals around the Kiddy Kingdom in Nuka World. You get a real sense of the fear and loss of seeing these people you've been forced to get close with slowly stop mentally existing even if their still physically there. Oswalds hope that a cure can be found is heartbreaking because we know (as far as I'm aware) of no existing cure for Ghoulism and especially for feral ghouls.

Ghoulification isn't a condition or a sickness or a consequence of making poor choices, its an adaptation for life in the wasteland and a useful one at that.

I love all the ghoul characters and chose Lenny as my favourite because A. I think he’s underappreciated and B. Second only to Charon, he has the most potential for a really cool backstory that they never addressed. Dude is a doctor in Necropolis, he would have been treating the other vault dwellers for radiation sickness. Imagine the trauma! The angst! It included his father who’s to say there wasn’t more of his family in that vault that he tried to help and failed? How did he survive the super mutant attack on necropolis? Was he below the city or above it (was he angry at humans and got over it or just trying to live peacefully?)

I think 90% of the veteran rangers are all ghouls. I like to think there's large ghoul settlements all over. I like to think there's ghouls who look completely human. Chris Haversam is ghoulifing on the inside but he still looks human. The Human Companions in Fallout 4 who are all immune to radiation are that way due to that process.

It makes sense ghouls would think their immune to radiation, but really, it just takes longer. their resistant, not immune. places like the glowing sea would make amazing homes for ghouls to the average eye, but once you see how many feral ghouls are around you start to think about how many came there feral to begin with.

I have this hc about Jason Bright where he is a pskyer and the reason why his voice echos is because one of the voices you're hearing physically with your ears and the other he is unintentionally projecting into your mind with telepathy.

I imagine there's many Vaults that are full of just ghouls.

I got a headcannon that ghouls are naturally warmer, due of radiation. the 'younger' the ghoul, the warmer. pre war ghouls arent that warm as the ones who turned years ago.

Headcanon: if a ghoul works to maintain their voice (i.e. general vocal care like how opera singers do), they can keep their voice from getting as scraggly as most. My 76 OC was a Broadway actress before the war and continued to maintain her voice despite aging and eventual ghoulification, which allowed her to keep it (mostly) in tact.

I think Oswald was the reason his friends turned feral. He kept exposing them to radiation and every time he healed them with radiation or brought them back from the dead makes things harder. But ultimately it's a super rare gene that keeps non feral glowing ones.

I think the Eldritch Old Ones are the unofficial cause of the ghouls. The radiation is just an effect but the the Old Ones choose who to make feral, who to turn, and sometimes they'll turn without radiation at all.

Rn I’m working on a setting set in central MA, and one of the characters is a ghoul history teacher since he is a prewar ghoul. It’s been a fun concept to play with!

Bit of a headcanon- ghouls tend to have a heightened sense of smell, but are mostly nose blind to smells of burning and rot.

Glowing ones don't turn feral. Every feral glowing one was feral BEFORE they were glowing.

I hc that all ghouls are sensitive to light which is why most chill in dark places.

And last but certainly not least...

I want to marry Raul.

And so, that concludes that.

A huge thank you once again to everyone who took the survey and offered your thoughts, and I hope you found this results post interesting/insightful :D

Appendix: But Chaos, you promised us...

1 - Analysis of ghoul x ghoul ships!

So, upon an brief glance-through of the data whilst the survey was still running (I was trying not to 'spoil' the dataset for myself so I only peeked here and there), it seemed like a relatively large chunk of the recent respondents had mentioned ships, which is why I proposed adding a dedicated section for them in the results. However, in the final results we actually only have two ghoul x ghoul ships mentioned: Carol x Greta and Gob x Charon. A handful of other answers talked about shipping Charon and Gob with their LWs and Raul with their Couriers, but overall there just wasn't a whole lot of shipping discussion going on. Sorry to disappoint lol

2 - Born ghoul discussion!

Ah. Yes. That. Well, this is a similar situation again, actually. There are references to relevant characters within the dataset, but nothing went into anywhere near as much detail as I somehow convinced myself it had, and so I didn't have to leap in with the dreaded Born Ghouls 101 after all. I think my brain may have bluescreened prematurely upon seeing the slightest hinted mention of Van Buren's ghoul lore in there hgfdfgh

#ghoul survey #the results are in!#the overwhelming outcome of this survey for me has been a renewed desire to learn more about ghouls in the fallout games I tend to neglect #and I have to say. I may just not have reached the right audience but there was *zero* hancock thirst. I was shocked lol #long post

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