#I've been tinkering on this for years and for what!!!

[ravenvsfox]

something electric in the blood

hey woah it's my birthday again! this year I've decided to subject you all to the tfc superhero au that's been in my back pocket for 2 years. feedback would be a very chill birthday gift, but I'm also just happy to be here (not letting this story languish in a textedit file)! ok! rock on etc

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Neil’s mother could call a monsoon down from a crisp blue sky. Her power was tearful and tormented; she was always wreathed with rainwater, a grey veil obscuring her face.

Neil’s father was righteous electricity. His power was a fork in a wall socket. He went off before he was even born; his lightning struck his mother dead from the inside out. A killer before he even entered the world—a born murderer.

Mary spent the first few months of her pregnancy wishing quietly for a miscarriage, petrified of a fatal lightning strike from the storm brewing inside her. Lucky for her, Nathaniel was never anything like his father. (He takes solace in this many times, when he’s old enough to understand how dangerous his powers can be.)

Long before he was Neil, he could cradle sunbeams in each hand, whistle for hail, and bend fog around his enemies like blindfolds. He could cover his footsteps with peals of thunder as he ran, and wash away crime scenes with downpours. 

When his mother was killed, he struck their car with lightning over and over, and watched the white flames burst the windshield and warp the metal. He set the beach on fire all around him, staggering and tearing his hair, smoking the sand into glass and then cutting his feet to pieces as he ran. 

He kept running for months after that, his powers spilling like loose change out of a hole in his pocket. And he was so determined to survive that he no longer had a say in which parts of the weather he wanted, like—instead of checking specialty books out from the library, he was pulling down entire shelves by accident. 

Now, in the final stages of his weather sickness, he finds himself screened behind fog and ice most of the time, tidal waves dragging anyone who comes close, sunlight pouring in and out of his body like fever. Most urgently, an electrical storm is always very, very close to the surface; lightning is thick in his nose, tickling his throat, writhing half-formed above him in the veins of clouds. He’s afraid it will make a weapon of him, when he’d give anything to be something else.

Read on AO3

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The stranger finds him in an abandoned mall, at the tail-end of his breakdown. Neil had filled the first floor up to his waist with rainwater, filtered down through the caved in ceiling—a shattered skylight that he had ripped lightning through like a hacksaw. He'd beckoned clouds down over all of the windows and finally slept, exhausted, in the eye of the storm. 

The man appears out of the blue, drenched, in the foodcourt-turned-swimming pool. Water laps around his belt and bleeds up his shirt. His hair is plastered to his forehead and his expression is unreadable. Neil peers at him steadily across the water. Reflections of the graphic 90s wall decals float innocently between them.

“Neil, I bet.” He wipes his wet hands on his shirt. Through the water, Neil can see his boots grinding against broken glass. “Call me Wymack.”

Neil unfolds his legs, letting his feet dangle from the table he’s perched on. He waits patiently for violence. “How do you know who I am?”

Wymack smiles, half-cocked, maybe a little pissed off to be up to his waist in Neil’s mess. 

“Not every day that a storm eats a shopping mall.”

“I asked how you know who I am,” Neil reiterates, “not if you have eyes.” His voice is raw from misuse. Everything is kind of echoey and green, in this washed-out mall of his.

“Alright smartass. I’ve had you flagged for a while,” Wymack says. “I keep tabs on supers who I think might be a good fit with my Foxes. We’ve known the general shape of you since you flattened that barn in Ohio.”

He narrows his eyes. “There’s no way you could connect me to that.”

Wymack raises an eyebrow. “You’ll notice I said flattened. As in levelled. As in hailstones the size of kittens. In the middle of August. Who else has that kind of power? A functioning dairy farm, Josten. It was a slaughter.”

Neil flinches. “Fine,” he mutters. “I know. Why are we talking about it?”

“A ruined barn, a glass beach, a total whiteout in the middle of a grocery store, this castle in the clouds you’ve hooked up for yourself? Seems like a pattern. Seems like a breakdown, actually. My job is to step in when a super loses their shit, and I think we both know you fit the bill.”

“So what happens now?” Neil asks slowly. He’s struggling to keep his voice even, but he can feel thunder brewing, metabolizing in his gut. “You take me to superpower rehab? Give me dampeners and lock me in a basement? Fuck off.” 

Wymack looks unimpressed. “Talking out of your ass must be another one of your special powers.”

Neil scowls.

“Look,” Wymack starts, wading two steps closer. “I’m offering you an opportunity to be a part of a team of people like you. We all know the heroes and villains model is psychotic, but shit, powers are made to be used. We use ‘em. Find people, fix things. Or break things, if they’re not working right.”

“You’re vigilantes,” Neil says.

“No,” Wymack says, breaking out in a wicked grin. “We’re government mandated. Barely. My team is powerful. It’s in everyone’s best interest to let them hunt criminals so they don’t become them.”

“You left out the part where we’re all already criminals,” an entirely new voice says. It takes a moment for Neil’s eyes to adjust to the fact that it belongs to someone standing directly in front of him, having materialized seemingly out of thin air.

Neil clambers backwards, and a little taser beam of lightning ricochets perilously close to the water they’re all standing in.

This new stranger is so close that he can see the tawny colour of his eyes. He’s short, nearly chest-deep in the water, with a shock of blond hair and a chalky, sullen face. 

“Jesus, Andrew,” Wymack complains. “How long?”

Andrew’s static expression twitches, and he’s a foot to the left without straining a muscle.

“Don’t fucking pause me when I’m talking to you,” Wymack says, nonsensically.

“Were we talking?” Andrew asks. “I forget.” He circles Neil carefully, nearly soundless in the water.

Neil frowns, still in the slippery process of righting himself on the table. His shoes screech against a flaking metal chair.

“Speed?” he demands. It comes to mind immediately, the way Andrew is sort of flitting like a hummingbird, punched out of reality and then clipping back in somewhere else. Neil has always been obsessed with the straightforward usefulness of super speed.

Andrew’s gaze turns shrewd.

“Wrong brother.”

“Excuse me?”

“Settle down. He’s green, Andrew,” Wymack interrupts. “He doesn’t know shit about the Foxes.”

His eyes flicker to Wymack and back. He glitches, and Neil’s neck is wrenched to the side by an open-handed slap to the face. His vision blurs. Lightning strikes the roof.

“Interesting,” Andrew murmurs. 

“Christ,” Wymack exclaims, “what have I told you about antagonizing volatiles?”

“You can manipulate time,” Neil breathes, holding the back of his hand to the pain-flushed apple of his cheek. Andrew snaps his fingers and disappears.

“He can manipulate my patience,” Wymack says, turning a slow, sloshing circle in the water to scan the balcony overlooking the food court. His eyes focus suddenly, and Neil follows his gaze to find Andrew lounging at the top of a long-broken escalator. Wymack sighs. “Quit showing off.“ 

Andrew blips directly behind Wymack, who trips a little bit, slapping his hands uselessly into the water to find purchase.

“Could you turn this to ice?” Andrew asks coolly, stirring the water with his index finger.

Neil shakes his head. “Once it’s out of the atmosphere I can’t really do shit with it. What else can you do with time? Reverse it or—“

“There’s only one button on my remote,” Andrew says simply.

“Not that I’m not enjoying these pleasantries,” Wymack says. “But I’ll take an answer now, Neil.”

“You called me a ‘volatile,’” Neil accuses.

Wymack rolls his eyes. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Every single one of my Foxes was classified as a volatile when I found them. It’s not an ugly word.”

He thinks of his father splashed through the news attached to that word, of being hunched over a police scanner full of dirty voices hissing volatile spotted, in pursuit of volatile, volatile resisting arrest. It was always about putting down anyone with powers before they could even think about being empowered.

“Depends on who’s using it,” Neil says. He shivers, and it snows a little, a miniature avalanche like something off of a disturbed tree branch. Andrew puts his hand out into the flurry, producing a fistful of slush that he promptly chucks at Wymack. It collides wetly with his chest, sticking there momentarily like a pathetic badge.

Wymack looks skyward. “Give me strength.” He seems to realize that the sky is Neil’s domain when a few more errant snowflakes catch in his hair, and he shakes them off, disconcerted.

“If I come with you,” Neil starts. “Can I stay anonymous?”

“Sure. We’ll get you a mask,” Wymack says, stone-faced. Neil can’t tell if he’s joking or not. He squints. Wymack sighs. “Look kid, I don’t care what you’ve done up until exactly now. You leave here with us, we officially work together. That means I accommodate you. I get you what you need to function. A place to sleep. Doctor visits. Dampeners if you need them.” Neil bristles, but Wymack powers on. “And in return, you work for me. Help us keep things balanced.”

Neil looks at him for a long, searching moment, feeling the snow blowing out of his chest, a sudden spring thaw. His sneakers are soaked, and the thought of a place to sleep where the weather can’t find him is so tempting.

“Fine,” he says. “I’ll do it. But how do I know—”

He’s barely spoken when he feels a strange vertigo, a retreating, phantom pressure, and he realizes he’s been transported instantaneously to the back of a car. It’s indescribable, the absence of even a blink between one set of surroundings and the next. He feels like he was in some sort of virtual reality and his headset was ripped off.

“Fuck,” he gasps. 

“You ask too many questions,” Andrew says.

“You moved me here?” he demands. Andrew looks at him blankly, as if this should be obvious. “I can walk,” he grits out. “Don’t waste your powers on me.”

“I was tired of your babbling,” he says. “You already agreed to come with us. The Foxhole needs us more than you need your self-punishing little enclosure.”

Neil glowers out the window, his fingers itchy on the unlocked door handle. A dozen metres away from their spot in the faded tarmac grid of the parking lot, Wymack is wedging open the defunct automatic doors at the mall’s entrance, emerging in an absurd flood of rainwater. 

“If the ‘foxes’ are so capable, shouldn’t they be able to take care of themselves?”

“You would think,” Andrew says wryly.

Wymack wrenches the handle on the driver’s side door, but it just snaps back into place, locked. Andrew twirls the car keys on his middle finger. 

“Enough,” Wymack says, long-suffering. He raps on Andrew’s window until his fingers jangle, and he and Neil realize at the same time that the keys are now dangling from his wrist. (Andrew’s middle finger is still raised.)

Climbing inside the belly of the car, Wymack jabs a button on the console and the headrests whack down and catch Andrew and Neil both on the crowns of their heads.

Andrew makes an affronted noise. “We have a guest,” he says.

“We have a time crunch,” Wymack says. “Not that that’s ever meant anything to you.”

“Renee will take care of it.”

“She shouldn’t have to,” he argues, turning the key in the ignition and pulling out of the parking lot before the tide from the mall can roll out to meet them.

“What does Renee do?” Neil asks.

Wymack meets his eye in the rearview mirror. “She deals with a frankly inhumane amount of bullshit, mostly.”

“I meant—“

“I know what you meant,” he gripes. “I was getting to that part. You’re going to have to learn at least an ounce of patience if you’re going to—“

“She’s a shifter,” Andrew says.

“A shapeshifter,” Neil repeats incredulously. He’s so frantically jealous for a moment that he has to bite down on his tongue.

“She can turn into pretty much anything with a face,” Wymack says.

“You’re joking.”

Wymack rolls his eyes. “I wish I was.” He takes a hand off the wheel to jab a thumb at Andrew. “You think one of him is bad, imagine three of him underfoot.”

They lapse into silence for a moment as Neil considers this. Scrubby spring scenery whips past, Wymack taps an absentminded tattoo on the gearshift, and Andrew sits utterly, perfectly still at Neil’s side.

“What do the rest of the Foxes do?” Neil asks, badly feigning nonchalance. He’s calculating how much of this could be useful to him, the ways he could co-opt supernatural speed, stopped time, or a thousand disguises. The possibilities are staggering.

“They should probably tell you themselves,” Wymack says, slanting another knowing look at him in the mirror. 

Andrew snorts.

Neil narrows his eyes. “What, are they bad?”

Andrew glitches into the passenger seat, and Wymack nearly loses control of the car, clipping the horn with one flailing hand. “Last time he got too comfortable with the secret identity reveals, Kevin made him walk out into traffic.”

Neil absorbs this like a punch to the stomach, thinking of miscalculated lightning and swift punishments, a father with a bolt in each fist.

“Don’t listen to him,” Wymack says, “It’ll rot your brain.”

“I’m telling the truth,” Andrew says simply. He flicks a circle of beads dangling from the rearview, and less than a second later, they’ve disappeared.

“Jesus suffering christ,” Wymack says. “Put those back.”

“What?” Andrew says blankly, and Neil considers that any of these glitches might represent minutes, hours, or days where Andrew has been suspended, alone, in time. 

He wants to ask him how long he can stay outside of time, if he ages in the infinite space between seconds, or if it’s as peaceful as it sounds to be the only moving thing in the universe. Instead he asks, “How do you make someone walk into traffic?” 

Wymack sighs. “Well, if you’re Kevin, you get inside their head and tell them what to do.”

Andrew glances backwards. “Your worst nightmare, I would imagine.”

Neil’s neck is hot with anxiety just thinking about it, but he sets his jaw, defiant. “You don’t know me.”

“No,” he agrees. “But I know what someone who’s afraid of their own powers looks like. And I know how easy it would be for Kevin to set you off like a firecracker.”

Neil wordlessly rolls down his window and calls down a hailstone the size of a baseball.

“No more powers in my car,” Wymack snaps, deftly forcing Neil’s window up so he has to snatch his hand back, dropping the ice out into the street. “Honestly, it’s like I’m running a daycare.”

“You don’t have a power?” Neil asks.

“I have the almighty ability to withstand annoying questions.”

“Excuse me if I’m curious about how a powerless stranger tracked me all the way to nowhere, where my—where no one else thought to look, just to enlist me into his knock-off suicide squad.”

“Well first of all, let’s make one thing absolutely fucking clear,” Wymack says, twisting in his seat, one hand steady at the bottom of the wheel. “Just because someone can’t—or won’t—use any superpowers, it doesn’t mean they’re powerless. If you listen to a word I say to you today, let it be that. Got it?”

They watch each other for so long that Neil starts to feel uneasy. The car should’ve drifted off the road by now. Maybe Andrew’s correcting their course by increments. Maybe Wymack actually has a banal, embarrassing kind of GPS power that keeps wheels to pavement.

“Fine,” Neil says, clipped.

“Good. If you call Abby powerless, I guarantee she’ll give you an earful about nursing school.”

“Who’s—“

Andrew makes an irritated noise, and when Neil looks up at the sound, he’s disoriented again by an instantaneous shift in light. His head snaps to the right, and he finds Wymack dumped unceremoniously beside him in the backseat. Andrew is busily turning the engine off up front, and a sleek, black parking garage is spread out around them, like a high-tech hangar in a sci-fi movie.

“Chrissake,” Wymack says. “Give me the keys.”

“You have them,” Andrew says tonelessly, and then he disappears. Wymack sighs and starts working on disentangling the keys that have just been magicked onto one of his earrings.

“Does he move other people around like that very often?” Neil asks.

“When the mood strikes him,” Wymack says, kicking the door open and swinging a leg out. Outside of the car, he continues, “he used to say that things have different weight, when they’re paused. All that shit like gravity, velocity, friction—they function differently when time isn’t affecting you.”

“He told you that?" Neil asks. Wymack nods. "Huh. Wouldn’t have thought he’d be so forthright.”

“Amazing what sobriety can do to a person.” Wymack holds up a hand before Neil can speak again. “More on that later. We have a facility to tour.” They’re approaching the subtle seam of a door in a broad expanse of wet-looking dark concrete. Neil hadn’t even been able to make out that it was a door until it was close enough to touch.

“Right now?”

“You have something better to do?” 

Neil shrugs. He was kind of hoping to be shown somewhere dry and windowless, but he can play house-tour.

Wymack puts his thumb to an inconspicuous tab jutting out of the near-invisible door-frame, the mechanism beeps and clicks, and the the wall sinks inward. 

“That was the main lot, this is the atrium.” The door folds itself away like a bird’s wing, and Neil follows his host into a dark hexagonal space, black walls and cubbies like something from a locker room, everything lit up at the seams with artificial techno-orange. “We usually meet here before a mission, gear up and ship out.”

Neil rolls his eyes at Wymack’s back. Between the faux-military slang and the wannabe spy movie facility, the benefit of the doubt is already stretched paper-thin.

The hallway ahead is long and uniform, with identical corridors extending in either direction every ten paces. They come across a series of matching but modified outfits behind glass, displays full of black, orange and white leather, bulky looking jackets, masks, caps and gloves, boots and holsters. 

“Gear,” Wymack says, lingering at the farthest case, a petite, broad-shouldered suit with a full mask, strappy vest, and brass knuckles on a hook. Wymack taps the glass. “Each of these cases opens up into a personal changing room. You’ll get a custom suit. Probably something water-proof and—“ he purses his lips against a smile. “Shock-resistant. Hope you like rubber.”

Neil examines a suit with thick, elbow-high gloves and an ornate half-mask. “I don’t really care what I wear.”

“Glad to hear it. Some of my Foxes were not so flexible.” 

“Someone say flexible?” 

Neil looks up just in time to see a shape drop from an air-duct overhead, like paper spit from a printer. When it hits the floor, it’s a person.

“What the hell,” Neil says flatly.

The newcomer grins. He’s tall and wiry, and his hair is gelled up into deliberate-looking peaks. Even with a complete, three-dimensional heft to him he seems stretched out, like a teenager still growing into his legs. He offers Neil a friendly hand. “Matt Boyd. And you’re the new recruit, Neil, right?”

He nods, accepting the handshake. He glances meaningfully upward. “That can’t be more than a half-inch gap.”

Matt laughs, obviously pleased. “They don’t call me Flex for nothin'.” His hand becomes putty in Neil’s grip, and when Neil tries to extract himself, Matt has him in hand-handcuffs.

“You could escape anything,” Neil marvels, half-gawking at the unseemly image of Matt’s taffy-stretched, bisected hands, slithering back and becoming whole.

Matt looks sideways at Wymack, still smiling. “He is fresh. Still has the capacity for surprise. That’s kind of nice, actually.”

Neil’s shoulders hitch upwards, defensive. “It’s been a while since I’ve met new supers.” His mother had kept him in the most oppressively average and un-stimulating hideaways she could. If he ever met supers it was by accident.

“Well that ends today, dude,” Matt says. “We see crazy new shit pretty much all the time.”

“I’m starting to get that.”

“Your thing is weather, right? You got a demo in you?” Matt asks slyly. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Wymack says quickly, but Neil is already feeling his way skyward.

They’re underground, but he can still kind of always sense the atmosphere, whispering in from outside through filtered air or natural light. It’s as simple as finding a loose end and tugging.

He blinks, and suddenly, the hallway is a wind tunnel. It’s just a little air show, but still, the gusts are so intense that Wymack has to take a step back and steady himself against the wall. Matt whoops joyfully, his immovable gelled hair whipping back. He uses his stretch powers to balloon outward like a parachute, and the wind catches his rubber body and drags him twenty feet down the hallway.

Neil rolls his neck, satisfied, and the wind dies out. “If we were above ground, I could give you a real show.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Matt says, jogging breathlessly back towards them. “Man, we’re going to work so well together. You can be the wind beneath my wings.” He quirks a genuine smile at Neil, who relaxes in spite of himself. 

“Don’t you have crime to stop?” Wymack asks drily, and Matt rolls his eyes. 

“I mean, if I can’t stop some trouble, I can always make some.” He swerves unnaturally out of the way, laughing, when Wymack reaches out to cuff him over the head. “See you soon, Neil,” he calls, taking one enormous stride to the very end of the corridor, around the corner, and out of sight.

“Everyone shows off for newcomers,” Wymack says, pushing steadfastly ahead. “Please don’t give them the weather-works every time.”

Neil shrugs. “He asked for it.”

“Yeah, and you’re a real people pleaser, huh?”

The tour trundles on, through the tunnelling halls of a facility that is slowly revealing itself to be as well-appointed as it is well-hidden. They pass through a wide-open common kitchen area with enough dining space for twenty; an enormous training gym outfitted with targets, mats, a reinforced spectator box, and a fully stocked library of weapons and armour. 

There are a couple of available sleeping quarters, spartan, but outfitted with sturdy furniture, clean bedding, and storage like Neil has never even thought to ask for; a lounge with a beaten-looking couch and chairs, a smaller kitchenette, an entertainment system, and a pool table; and a professional-grade medical station, equipped to hold what looks like the entire team at once. 

Neil meets a laser-focused Abby Winfield in the med bay, where she’s tending to a surly Andrew look-alike with a bruise-mottled grimace on his face. Aaron’s gaze darts and slices like a bird unsettled from its perch when Neil enters the room.

Neil asks him if he ran into someone’s fist, but he doesn’t rise to the bait, just casting a haughty look down Neil’s rain-soaked jeans as he hops from the exam table. Abby seems to realize what’s coming a moment before it happens, because she waves a still uncapped tube of ointment in one hand and says, “Aaron, don’t, I’m not—“ but he’s already blazed from the room, head-spinningly fast.

Wymack shrugs an apology for their intrusion, and Abby sighs, offers Neil a surprisingly generous smile, and shoos them from her office—but not before promising a full physical exam for their newest team member.

Neil swallows his instinctive horror to being examined in any capacity, and forces himself to follow Wymack out from the exposing light of the medical hall. From there, they find their way to an imposing set of steel double-doors at the heart of the labyrinth.

“Mission control,” Wymack says, scanning them seamlessly inside. Neil can tell from the quality of his voice that this is the tour’s grand finale.

It’s a massive space, tech-ed out, and the obvious hub for the entire operation. There are sprawling screens full of moving data, a huge table, lit up from within, with stray files and blueprints littering its surface. There are also towering rows of black filing cabinets lined up against the far wall, a computer system too complex for Neil to understand most of its controls, and a couple of inconspicuous doors leading to what must be private offices.

“We do most of our planning here.” Wymack gestures towards the network of screens and keyboards. “Comprehensive database, files on every super in the country, past battle strats,” he nods towards a white-board over by the meeting table. “Individualized training schedules. My office over there.” When Neil follows his sightline he finds a woman standing in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes level and keen. Neil waves awkwardly, and her mouth pulls charmingly to the side like a swept curtain. “And that’s Dan Wilds,” Wymack finishes.

“The most important part of the base, right boss?”

“If you say so,” Wymack says, but he's smiling.

“Nice to finally meet you, Neil Josten. Gotta say, I was pretty impressed by your glass beach.”

He tries not to grimace at the thought of it. “Thanks,” he says. “It was accidental.”

She laughs good-naturedly until he doesn’t join in, and then she raises both eyebrows. “‘It was accidental,’ he says. Like he didn’t change the geography of half the East coast.”

“It’s not modesty,” Wymack says. “He really doesn’t know what kind of trail he’s been leaving.”

“I don’t really like to look—back,” Neil says.

Dan’s eyes glint. There’s something sturdy and well-balanced about her, like a broadsword. “Well. Amen to that.”

“Wait, why did no one tell me he was here already?” someone exclaims, bursting in from the double doors behind them. Dark-haired and animated, the new guy is wearing a hyper-casual graphic crop top and joggers, and when he sees Neil properly, he says, “oh christ, your aura.”

“He means to say, hi, I’m Nicky,” Dan says. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, for sure, hi, I’m Nicky,” Nicky says, waving a distracted hand. “I can’t believe how fucked up you feel.”

“Excuse me?” Neil says, face burning, caught (as he often is) between anger and shame.

“I feel what you feel,” he says, with some relish. “No wonder we’re having inclement weather.”

All of Neil’s gauges go haywire—instant panic. It’s even worse than Kevin’s supposed powers of compulsion. The thought of all his hard-won habits, straight-faced lies, and tooth and nail emotional regulation being undone by a little empathy is too terrible. Like a bad joke. 

Wind whistles in his ears. Dan winces sympathetically as Nicky makes a wounded noise and grabs his own skull, staggering backwards. A wave of energy flows visibly through the air from his body, and Neil feels it impacting his own chest. Suddenly, he feels calm and docile as a lamb. He sits on the floor exactly where he is.

“Hey,” Wymack snaps.

“Nicky, stow the powers, okay. You know most of us vollies aren’t empath-compatible,” Dan says.

“I’m sorry, I—“ Nicky’s eyes screw shut. Immediately Neil is in control of his body again, and he slides sideways, panting. “I wasn’t ready.”

“What did you do to me?” Neil demands. Somewhere above ground, thunder grumbles.

“I’m sorry,” Nicky says again. “It’s an instinct sometimes, I swear I can’t help it.”

“He gave you an emotional sedative,” Wymack says, crossing his arms. “Nicky can manipulate feelings.”

“But I don’t,” Nicky interrupts. “Usually. I didn’t expect it to feel like a war-zone in here all of a sudden.”

Neil stands, and starts to stalk threateningly towards Nicky, but a hand closes in his collar and lifts him clean off the ground.

“Let’s not escalate things,” Dan says, holding him easily aloft. “Nick, will you promise to turn off the charm when Neil’s around?”

Nicky puts his hands up in surrender. “Done and done.” Softer, he says, “It’s actually—nice to meet you Neil.” He smiles sheepishly, and Neil shakes his head in dull disbelief. A total stranger just took the full force of the storm at the centre of Neil’s consciousness, and he’s still smiling at him like he’s not a monster.

Dan sets Neil carefully back on his feet, and he shrugs out of her grip, putting several paces between himself and everyone else.

“I understand powers that happen without your consent,” Neil says slowly. “But if you mess with my emotions again I’m not responsible for what’ll come out of the sky.”

Wymack holds up a staying hand, moving between them. “Alright, alright, enough posturing for one day.”

Nicky looks flushed and upset, but as Neil watches, the air around his body shifts and undulates as a new wave of power is compressed inwards. His expression slackens, hazy. “It’s okay. I don’t intimidate easy.”

Neil blinks at him. “You can turn your powers on yourself?” he asks, putting his own discomfort on ice.

Nicky smiles. He seems to be following Neil’s mood at a distance, matching him beat for beat. Neil’s not sure if it’s a byproduct of his abilities or a true personality trait. “Sure. I can chill myself out if I can’t sleep, get pissed before a fight. I don’t do it very often though, it can get intense. Draining.”

“How do you know if what you’re feeling is real? How does anyone around you?”

Nicky’s smile twitches. Neil suspects he’s stepped on a nerve. “It’s not a memory thing. My power lets people know its been there. It’s why I can’t tell anyone to forgive me, or love me, or anything. They would know better.”

“Eh, I know better,” Dan says, walking close enough to rope Nicky in by the shoulders. “But I do it anyway.”

“Aw shucks,” Nicky says, clearly pleased. 

“And you’re—super strong?” Neil asks, eyeing Dan’s thick upper arms.

‘Something like that. I can nudge gravity where I want it.” She looks slyly at Wymack and he uncrosses his arms, taking a step backwards.

“Don’t do it.”

“Come on, not even for the new guy?”

“Dan,” Wymack warns.

“Alright, fine,” she says, hands up. She looks to Neil. “Just know in your heart that I can lift the boss with one finger.”

“It’s a real crowd-pleaser,” Nicky agrees, perching on one of the many data-projecting desks, capped with swirling, changing screens. “But what about you, Stormy Weather? What’s your story?”

He frowns. “I thought all of you knew everything.”

“We’ve seen the highlights reel,” Nicky says. “We don’t know you, though, not yet.”

Not ever, Neil thinks. He plans to treat this like a workplace that he clocks in and out of. After hours, he’ll stay warm and remote in a fog where no one can find him. It’s safer that way.

“I know him,” Andrew says, and Neil looks over to find him cross-legged at the centre of the conference table. The interior glow makes him look haunted, lit ungenerously from below. Andrew tosses a baseball-sized hailstone into the sleek stretch of floor in front of Neil. Preserved, somehow, from when Neil summoned it in the car. “He’s a storm chaser with an attitude problem.”

“Where the hell did you get that?” Dan asks. Then, pinching the bridge of her nose, “never mind, actually. The less I understand the monster, the better.”

“Excuse my cousin Andrew,” Nicky starts. Andrew looks away, apparently bored. “He thinks it’s funny to scare people shitless.”

“I don’t see him laughing,” Neil says tightly. 

“His sense of humour was dropped on its head as a child,” Nicky replies sadly.

“Okay, I’m calling it,” Wymack interrupts. “I’m sure you’re exhausted, Neil. Whole lotta new faces today. You’ll meet Kevin, Renee, and Allison when they get back from mission.”

“When will that be?” Neil asks. He’s already paranoid that the shifter will appear to him without him knowing it.

Wymack shrugs. “When it’s done. In the meantime, I don’t want any more gratuitous powers in my base. No throwing shit, no lightning bolts, no—“ Andrew blinks across the room, perilously close to Neil’s side, jaw craned up to examine his face. Neil looks down instinctively, and finds Andrew’s eyes boring into his own. “No pausing me, Minyard, I’m dead serious. If I have to repeat instructions for you again it ain’t gonna be pretty.”

“What was that?” Andrew asks, but Neil’s pretty sure he’s fucking with him, because Wymack just sighs.

“Get out of my sight, all of you.” They all start to disperse, Dan back into Wymack’s office, Nicky over to the doors that lead hall-ward, Andrew into thin air. Wymack catches Neil’s eye. “Get some sleep, okay? See Abby for pills if you need ‘em. We’ll get you something dry to wear.”

“Thank you,” Neil says stiffly.

“Don’t thank me yet. Tomorrow we see how you play with others, and that’s never pretty.”

“Is that a threat?” 

Wymack looks tiredly to the largest screen in the room, beyond the place where stats and mission details are spinning in space. “More of a promise, really.”

Neil follows his gaze to the focal point of the screen, where a hundred thousand tiny golden lights are scattered into a world map like beads. Supers, embroidered into the dark fabric of the world, punched into time by some celestial power source or trick of science that they'll never understand. 

All that running, all that wishing to disappear, and he was always just a dot on this map. There was never a reality where he was going to be able to hide forever. Not even in the eye of a hurricane. Not even in an underground bunker. And if he can’t conceal his powers, he might as well control them.

He looks back at Wymack, feeling like a season on the cusp of changing, a monsoon shaking itself dry. “Let’s get started.”

[stuckwith-harry]

Carmen Maria Machado, On Writing and the Business of Writing

[dokyeomini]

it's kinda funny how i used to love not having to interact with many people when it comes to my job or stuff im studying and it all having to do with inanimate objects lmao but now i crave the connection

[phoenixblaze1412]

HIII I LOVE your works and THE CHILD READER IS SO FUXKING DELICIOUS that I've been living in your blog for like.. three days.

But anyways I wanted to request grown up child reader (like 15-17 yrs old) headcanons from your child readerXDottore ffs.

I love you and your works❤️

Also, can I be your 🦅 anon?

Sure you can, anon <3

Dottore was always proud to call you his child, his prodigy. He may not be able to show his care for you due to him always having to work but when he's free for the days, he tends to you as much as he can.

Time flew by so fast, you grew up from a tiny toddler to a teen.

In Iota and Theta's words, you used to be a little shit. Now you became a bigger shit.

You didn't need to worry much about what happens when one goes through puberty and maturity. Your father has it all covered, he actually made them beforehand before you reached thirteen.

And with your knowledge expanding from all the things you were taught at such a young age, you followed in your father's footsteps and Dottore was euphoric with it.

Kappa was a bit upset that you grew up, he would miss the times when you and him would always spend time together to play.

He was definitely pouting whenever you talk about your heights, now that you grew up to be a teenager while he's stuck as a child perspective of your father, the height difference was very noticable, he reaches about your stomach now and he will forever be that short.

Sadly that doesn't go the same for the other segments. Eta, Theta and Delta would still make fun of your shortness.

Beta would still carry you around despite already being a teenager. He still sees you as his little angel no matter how tall or old you get.

Iota still keeps those baby pictures he took of you. Doesn't matter if you looked bad or good in it, he still sees you as his little, troublemaker mutt. He still takes photos of you and would make scrapbooks of it during his free time whenever he's bored at tinkering on ruin machines.

The troublemaker (s)quad: Delta, Gamma, Theta and Beta would always bring you along with them whenever they wanted to cause trouble, watch something blow up or make some failed experiments kill each other. They would still cover your eyes if the scene becomes too much for you to handle.

Dottore was very enthusiastic when he took you in as his apprentice, of course you got lots of glares and side eyes from those who work under him who always wanted to be the doctor's apprentice, those looks did not go unnoticed by your father though. Oh how delightful you already have new fresh bodies to experiment on!

Who else would Dottore choose as his own apprentice if not you? It was already decided the moment your ruby red eyes stared back at him the moment you were born that he was to choose you.

Prime and Omega were always there to assist you whenever you have a little trouble in doing some of the work your father has tasked you to do. They may be segments and are 400+ years old in terms of memory but you're still their little child, it wouldn't hurt to spoil and give you a helping hand without the doctor knowing.

Dottore was definitely not happy when he saw the Knave's children interacting with you. Who were those brats again? Ah yes, Lyney, Lynette and Freminet. Time to tell the segments about those orphans.

You would always be curious on why a segment would always be with you wherever you go.

One time when Lyney kissed the back of your hand, he was immediately backed up to the wall with Delta's claymore pressed against his neck while Beta carried you away.

Having tea and cake with Lynette would have went well if Theta didn't splash her with water, intentionally letting the bucket fall on her head to grab your hand and run off.

Gamma even burned the flowers he took from Freminet to give to you since the boy was too shy to do so. The segment snipped the petals off to use them as ingredients for future experiments before burning the stems over by the fireplace with a grin.

Last one was when Childe came over to the lab to visit you since he brought you some snacks and souvenirs he got from Liyue only to get multiple glares from the segments and your father, your father was teaching you how to dissect a frog while the segments were watching as encouragement since it was your first time dissecting an organism.

It was during the harbinger meeting that Arlecchino brought up the doctor's protectiveness.

"Is the doctor afraid that his own child is being courted by others? Come on, surely you know that children would be leaving their nest to go fly off on their own to live their life? Surely my children are capable and worthy enough to court a child like them, no?"

"Absolutely fucking not. My child will not be tainted by your orphan brats."

[endless-ineffabilities]

Maroon (part three)

modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

You were standin' hollow-eyed in the hallway Carnations you had thought were roses, that's us

A series loosely based on the song Maroon of off Midnights by Taylor Swift ▪︎ read more Daemon & Aemond midnights imagines here: masterlist

series list: part one - part two - part three - part four -

themes/warnings: angst!, mutual pining, jealous!Aemond, language, description of accident/injury, Aemond in his stalker era

word count: 8.7k

a/n: proposed ages of the characters in this series - Viserys (64), Daemon (55), Alicent (53), Rhaenyra (44), Aemond (26), Helaena (25), Daeron (22), Aegon (30), Lucerys (22), Jacaerys (25), Joffrey (15), Alys (35) ---- as much as I'd like to pretend this took 5 minutes... heh. The Math simply wasn't Mathing for a long while. Anywho, just thought I'd write this in since I've aged up the characters.

Also - with all the time I've spent on this fic, I've decided to ultimately restructure part three. So part four will cover the night of the Dragonstone ball, where it's all about to go down.

Everything that occurs leading up to the Dragonstone ball - the outcome of the accident, Aemond struggling with his current state, and the reader left hoping for a love, that perhaps, never truly was.

Lucerys Velaryon has already garnered quite the reputation, at only 22 years old. 

A darling of the masses, everyone loved the young heir to Driftmark, a great company built by his grandfather, the notorious shipping tycoon, Corlys Velaryon.

But having the name Velaryon is a double-edged sword for Luke.

It only increases his privilege and prestige, already being a Targaryen on his mother’s side. Luke is set for life; he has everything he could ever need at his disposal. As a young boy, he has always enjoyed cars. Tinkering with them under the guidance of his father Laenor, as well as his uncle Daemon. Luke got himself into kart racing at the age of 9. Illegal street racing, much to his mother’s disappointment, at the age of 14. And just recently, he has been competing in Formula 2 division racing.

From the outside, he is just like any other boy. Apart from the fact that his family is literally worth billions, that is. 

But Luke has never been content. He has never been self-assured, borne out of the truth, one that everyone simply chooses not to mention, that Laenor Velaryon is not his true father. That he is a bastard, and therefore, not the rightful heir to Driftmark. He has always known this, despite his mother’s pleas otherwise. He knows this each time he hears the employees of Driftmark whisper amongst themselves after he passes by. Whenever he is invited to sit in the council meeting of the company, he feels his true status in how the shareholders disregard his opinions like he’s just some intern.

He grew up amidst the tension between himself and his brothers, and their young uncles, especially Aemond. When Aemond and Lucerys were growing up together, they simply did not learn to exist well around one another. Luke had bullied his young uncle long ago - an act of rebellion, of a boy growing up with resentment in his bones -  when Aemond had been weak and scrawny as a child. Aemond retaliated in kind; but he finally matured and found some inner calm in his mid-twenties. A year or two before you met him.

Luke's uneasiness has only worsened, now that he is nearly set to take his place on Driftmark. Since his family hails from Valyria, everyone expects them to uphold the tradition of only passing down inheritance to rightful heirs. Never bastard children or outliers.

But what the hell. Luke has never been one to follow the rules. His very existence does not abide by them, so why should he?

The night of the accident, Luke had to sit in yet another board meeting for the company. This time, Aemond was there too. Only he was treated as he should, being a Targaryen. Like someone capable, someone worthy. 

It should not have made any difference, really. Luke thought he was used to it all by now - the stares, the hushed whispers, the poorly masked scorn. They think Aegon or Aemond to be more competent. If the board had their way, it would not be Luke who would inherit Driftmark. Perhaps, his grandfather’s brother, Vaemond. Or hell, even his cousins Baela and Rhaena, though they never expressed any interest in the business.

Anyone but Luke.

-----------------------------

As a child, Aemond Targaryen saw himself as some kind of a ghost. A spectre simply moving around his family, their company, their horde of sycophants. Not the first to be considered. Not the designated heir to anything. The second son of the owner and chief executive of Dragonstone, and his much younger, barely beloved second wife.

Once upon a time, his father Viserys had been well and truly happy. 

He was married to the love of his life, Aemma, and they had a lovely daughter who was loved by all due to her charm and fiery nature. 

When Aemma passed in childbirth, Viserys had been near inconsolable. But he could not remain so for very long. Soon enough, his board of trustees, his advisors, urged him to remarry. He did not have an heir yet after all, and as per tradition, he soon needed to have a son so that he might raise him to become the next CEO and owner of their business empire.

But Viserys decided to essentially bypass such tradition, for less than a year after his wife’s passing, he had publicly announced his only daughter as his successor. It did not matter what the board of trustees or the shareholders preferred. They may have considerable sway over the affairs of the company, but in the end, the word of Viserys prevails.

And so Aemond and his three siblings have been pushed to the periphery. Not that they ever stood a chance anyway. In the end, their father will always uphold his precious Rhaenyra over them. Their mother plays the part of a mere trophy wife, though she is a noble Hightower herself, having to feign contentment in spite of all the times she and her children are slighted. 

Aemond thought himself calmer now, and matured. Painstakingly made every effort to be far from that weak boy who had no place anywhere. He is still unsure if he likes the person that he is, and perhaps he never has. But he morphed - or masked - this self-loathing into an unfailing desire to do better, to be better. He’s always wanted more. And he has learned to be strong for his mother, his sister. Himself. 

And now, you. How unpredictable you had been, bursting into his life like the Dornish comet of ‘07. He knew early on that you liked him, sort of, with how your eyes would dart back and forth to his direction whenever he’s in the room. 

It made him uneasy, at first, when his looks developed in such a way that garnered him plenty of attention. The spectre of the city turned ‘Prince of the city’, a strapping young man who can have anyone he wishes. 

But, funnily enough, all those socialites, models, glorified urban princesses with millionaire parents, Aegon’s harem of traditionally near-perfect friends from Lys that he often offers - none of them ever stood a chance to you, his sister Helaena’s earnest, gentle, and quick-witted best friend. 

Aemond would be lying if he said he fell for you immediately. It would be far from his nature to do such a thing. But he had, slowly, found himself enveloped in your light, and only feeling warm, only feeling home - only feeling like he could truly love himself - when you look at him with those soul-piercing eyes of yours. Maybe he isn’t so bad after all, if you can see him in the way you do. And he trusts your judgement; when you profess to want him in turn,  then he must be worth more than he thinks.

But the night of the accident, his forsaken shadow seemed to envelop him like an old friend. One that he can never shake. His anger, his darkness. He had long buried the Aemond Targaryen who frequently got into fistfights. The Aemond who deliberately ordered the expulsion of certain people he simply did not like from the employ of their company. The Aemond who chose to openly mock the truth of his raven-haired cousins’ parentage.

That night, that Aemond resurfaced, and with dire consequences. 

The night of the accident, four months before the Dragonstone ball

The storm had begun just before the board meeting ended. Heavy rain spattered against the Driftmark tower, with the night sky illuminated by streaks of lightning.

Aemond and Lucerys were coming to a head at the council table, and the other members were having to intervene at multiple points, just to mitigate the rising tension. The storm brewing inside the young men’s hearts could easily rival the one threatening to flood the streets.

Lucerys repeatedly interrupted Aemond’s suggestions, having grown tired of his own being cast aside by everyone else. 

“Wait for your turn to speak, my Strong nephew.” Aemond smoothly countered when he did not get to finish addressing Vaemond Velaryon.

“I didn’t think what you were saying was particularly important, uncle.” Luke retaliated in kind.

“Hmm. Some things never change, it seems. You still don’t know your place.”

“My place will soon be the highest seat of Driftmark. And you will still be grandfather’s second son, a mere placeholder at Dragonstone.”

“Please, sirs,” the meeting director complained. “We must get on with more urgent matters.”

Aemond and Luke barely contribute for the remaining minutes, opting to glare and sneer at each other from across the table.

But their council tiffs would not end up being the most unpleasant occurrence for that night. As if the storm also cast its darkness over their reasoning, they soon found themselves racing towards Gods Eye.

-----------------------------

It was meant to be a game. A show of bravado. Two young men, though in their depths still wounded boys, found themselves spewing offenses in an attempt to lower the other.

“You might inherit Driftmark, but everyone knows the truth, plain as day. You will always be a bastard.”

“Sure, but I am still more than you. What have you ever truly accomplished, uncle? Poor y/n, if she’s fallen for your tricks. Does she know who you truly are? She’s too bloody good for you.”

When Luke raised the challenge of racing to the edge of the cliff of Gods Eye, Aemond grasped at the opportunity to humiliate his nephew. To prove all of his claims to be wrong.

It might have been either one of them, or both, who deigned to edge their car close to the other’s, trying to veer it off course. Just a little nudge to make it spin out of the road.

But the turbulent weather was strong, causing mud and water to pool along the gravel. When the cars collided, Aemond’s took the brunt of the hit. Before he could even register the impact, his car was already spinning right towards the treeline. 

Luke had veered off road, his car rotating upside down. His right leg suffered from multiple fractures, including a busted knee cap.

But Aemond… 

His screams resounded despite the ceaseless pattering of rain, louder than even the roaring thunder overhead. A shard of glass had been wedged deep on one side of his face, splitting the flesh open. 

So much blood had pooled into his one remaining eye, that he feared he went entirely blind. The memory of your face flashed across his mind, and he despaired at the thought of never being able to see you again.

Later in the operating room, when the full extent of his injuries was delineated to him, Aemond thought that perhaps, it is you who would never want to see him again.

Why would you, with what has now become of his appearance?

Two months before the Dragonstone ball

You’re finding it hard not to keep tabs on Aemond, still asking Helaena every now and then if he’s really alright. To which she always responds with some version of “He’s okay. He just needs some time.”

Time. That’s fine. You suppose that the accident must have shaken him up, enough to cause him to go into hiding and to avoid everyone.

Unfortunately… painfully, including you. 

You find your mind drifting back to him every day - during your lectures, at work, at home, whenever you’re spending time with Helaena and you’re trying so hard to simply not just pester her about her brother. 

You think back to those secret moments you shared in crowded rooms, up in their penthouse, whenever Aegon would throw a party. Back then, you did not know one another yet, not really. But he would sit on the couch adjacent to yours, shoot you a smile, and silently keep you company while you wait for Helaena to return. He did so because he could sense that you were anxious, and that loud gatherings aren’t really your thing, as he revealed to you when you were… dating. As short of a time as that might have been. 

Gradually, you got to know him, in all those rare moments. His knowing, mischievous smiles. The subtitles nuances in his expression. His calculated manner of speaking.

You knew him, you had him, you lost him. Well, you do still know him - he is your friend, is he not? But it just as well could have been the end, the night of the accident. He has become a kind of spectre to you, leaving you yearning for what could have been. 

Weekends offer some respite from the whole ordeal of having to miss him. Your job at the bookstore allows you to just sit in silence, entertain customers once in a while, and bury your nose in your book-of-the-week.

Once in a while, a friend even drops by. This time, Jace burst through the entryway, bell chiming in his wake, beaming with a brown takeaway bag in one hand.

“Hey, stranger,” you put down your novel, and leave your post on the counter to greet your dear friend with a tight hug. Jace takes note of the fact that your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, and his spirits sink. But he immediately gets to work on making you feel better.

“I’d say you’re going to love me for this, but you probably do already,” he says, presenting you with the paper bag.

“Don’t be so sure,” you jokingly say, narrowing your eyes at him, before peering inside, hit with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and pastries.

You shrug, starting to dig in with no hesitation. “Actually, good of you to be sure.”

He laughs as you drop the bag on the counter, and rip it open to reveal all the goods. He takes his own coffee and leans closer to have a bite of the profiterole you eagerly wave in front of his face.

“Thanks,” you manage to puff out, with a mouthful of pastry. 

“Anytime, sweet.” Jace swallows, giving you a once over. “How are you holding up?”

It’s hard to act all nonchalant when he gives me those puppy-dog eyes. Jace’s innate sincerity almost makes you want to just cave in and vent all about Aemond.  “Nice of you to be concerned, but it’s not like I was the one who got into an accident.”

“I know, sassy, but I also know that you and Aemond were… you have seen him recently, no?” he asks, sounding certain of the answer to his question, which downright confuses you.

“No,” you shake your head. “Along with the rest of the city, I haven’t seen nor heard anything from him.”

“Really?” he remarks, incredulous.

“Come on, Jace,” you take a comforting sip of coffee, still warm. “You know this. He doesn’t want to see me.”

“Huh,” his head tilts back slightly as he mulls over your response. “It’s just…”

“What?”

“I could’ve sworn that was his car parked across the street. Right outside.” he says, jutting his thumb over his shoulder. You freeze, but your eyes are drawn straight toward the shop windows.

“That’s not - ,” That’s not possible, you want to say. But your feet already drag you to the edge of the shop, with Jace in tow. “Which one is his?” you ask, knowing Aemond’s got quite a few cars, privileged boy that he is. Your voice comes out in a hushed tone, as if you don’t want Aemond himself to hear. Ridiculous, you chide yourself, it probably isn’t even him.

“That silver Jaguar idling on the curb,” Jace answers, and you see it. Slantwise on the opposite side of the road, stopped right before the bus stop across the bookshop.

“Are you sure?”What the hell could he be here for? You didn’t want to admit it, but you feel the hope right in your bones. You want him here, of course. You want him to come see you.

“Yes,” Jace easily replies. “There’s only one vehicle in the city with that personalized plate."

Before you can stop yourself, you take a tentative step outside, hand still on the shop door.. I’m sure he can see me, if he’s really there.

The windows of the Jaguar have the darkest tint, making it nearly impossible to see inside. 

“That’s him,” Jace says from behind you. “He doesn’t let anyone else drive his cars. I even thought he was already inside the shop when I arrived.”

“Well shit,” you breathe, your heart racing in your chest. “What do I do?”

“What is he doing?”

“Fuck it.” You only manage to take a step forward on the sidewalk before the car roars to life, engine purring smoothly. Aemond maneuvers the car from its spot and leaves, driving right past you, a cloud of leaves and dust billowing all around.

“What the fuck?” Jace scoffs, thoughtfully waving his arm around to keep the dust from your face. “What is he on?”

“Aemond,” his name escapes your lips in a soft whisper. A silent plea that will never reach him, but you say it all the same. That it doesn’t matter to you, whatever state he is in after the accident. That even though he chose Alys over you, you can understand, or at least try to. He is still the same boy who captured your heart not so long ago. 

But why did he just leave? What is he so scared of?

“Come on,” Jace says, holding the door open for you. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”

When you go past the entryway, you turn on your heel and hang up the ‘On a break. Come back soon’ sign on the door. Sighing heavily, you shrug at Jace, “What a day, huh. You sure know how to bring drama with you.”

Jace only smiles, well-used to your banter, “How is this my fault?”

“I dunno,” you raise your hands, and walk back to the counter. You’re not sure how you feel at the moment - anxious, worried, disappointed? It’s all up in a haze since Aemond suspiciously drove off, and so, you can’t control the flood of dry sarcasm spilling out of you. Like some kind of coping mechanism. “You must have called Aemond here, so you two can drive my poor heart into a frenzy. Like I don’t already have a lot on my plate.”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Jace slowly nods, playing along. “Aemond hasn’t even spoken to me since everything went down. But I definitely sought him out today, and definitely forced him to watch you from out there in his car like some obsessed creep.”

“I knew it!”

-----------------------------

Fifteen minutes into your impromptu break, the tone has lightened to some degree, and you sit at a corner table with Jace, sipping the remains of your coffee.

After a lot more banter, and catching up about Luke, Joff, and the rest of his family - those who can still tolerate your presence,that is - Jace finds you staring blankly at a bookshelf. “Hey,” he says, “I don’t think my uncle is hiding in between those books.”

“Ha-ha.”

“Anyway, enough about him, eh?” Jace offers, taking your hand from across the table. “I actually wanted to ask you something.”

You squeeze his hand in return, staring back into his doe brown eyes, “Yeah?”

“Seeing as Aemond isn’t taking you to the Dragonstone ball,” he pauses, gauging your reaction. He decides that it’s all good when you remain impassive, “How would you like to come with me instead? I did mean to ask you, you know, but dear uncle beat me to it.”

“Oh.” Your hand loosens around his a bit, as you take in his words. “Well, I mean I would love to but - ”

Jace adds quickly, as if he is already reading the thoughts whirring through your mind. “No pretenses about it, I assure you. I’m not expecting anything else. Just that you honour me by being my partner to the ball.”

“Mmm,” your shoulders relax, and you find yourself smiling at Jace’s heartfelt nature. One that immediately warmed you to him when you first met. “Partners, huh?”

His tongue makes a clicking sound in confirmation. “What do you say?” 

“Jace,” you start, weighing the options in your mind. “I would go with you, of course - ”

“That settles it then.”

“- but I just… I don’t know, if… Aemond does not want to see me, maybe I shouldn’t just show up at the ball?”

Jace rolls his eyes, “He doesn’t own the bloody ball, you know. He can’t control whether you come or not.” He leans in, voice lowering like he’s sharing a devious ploy, “Besides, if he doesn’t want to see you, then why would he be loitering across the street simply to watch you through the shop windows? Let’s be real now, eh?”

Fair point. You reply, “Far be it from me to know what he’s up to.”

“So come to the ball with me and ask him yourself. I’ll even back you up. With my own pitchfork and everything.” The way his eyes blaze in excitement sparks something in you. Being around Jace is always fun, like you’re free to do anything - you could even cause any kind of trouble and he would only be cheering you on. 

If only… if only you liked him the way you do a certain someone, then you might actually have a greater sense of calm. Your self-doubt might be assuaged, your days brighter. 

But no. It is Aemond who fills your wandering thoughts. Aemond who haunts your sleepless nights. It was him who nearly made your heart stop that night on their rooftop, who laughed with you and held you close when you were a fumbling, wine-stained mess. 

Perhaps unfortunately so… it is Aemond whom you love.

That realization makes you straighten in your seat, scaring some sense back into you. Fuck, what am I even thinking? It’s Jace right in front of me. Jace who is asking me to the ball. 

“You got yourself a deal, mister,” you playfully hold your hand out for him to shake.

-----------------------------

Later that night, the Targaryen penthouse in the Crownlands Tower is relatively quiet. Most of the family is away, save for Helaena, their housekeeper Talia…

… and Aemond, who sits in front of his desk, staring at the object atop it which is aglow under lamplight. His eye drifts to the metal surface of the lampshade itself, and he sees it. A scar stretched from his forehead to his cheekbone, with its edges tinged with maroon. 

Revolting. It’ll take some time to heal, they all say. Well it’s been two long fucking months, and it doesn’t feel any better. Nothing feels right.

It isn’t fair, his mother wailed upon seeing him. None of this is. It was the rogue Lucerys’ fault, she insisted, for egging Aemond to go on a damned speed chase in the middle of fucking storm.

His father Viserys merely appraised him for a long moment, before mumbling something that sounded like, “I am sorry this happened, but you’ll be alright”. Then to his mother, “Lucerys is injured as well. This is what they’ve always done, as you know. Luke and Aemond don’t really get along but they’re grown now.”

He added with a warning gaze to Aemond, “They have to learn to be civil to one another. We are all family, after all.”

“Family,” Alicent spat the word like a curse. “Family should not be the cause of grievous harm.”

Aemond remembers the shrug that Viserys did. It is a gesture he has seen endlessly, it might even be the first thing he remembers of his father. All of his pains, and his achievements will always be met with a nonchalant gesture. Some father he is.

There’s only one thing that would make Aemond feel better in this moment, and even that, he cannot allow himself to have. He shall not present himself, this self, to you. He looks at his reflection and he hates what he sees. Perhaps he always has. But he also learned to love himself around you. How easy it can be, like second nature. 

Maybe he was drawn to the fact that you are not from his world, with all its intrigue and playacting. How you choose not to perceive status as a tool, and how you can be kind to anyone. You, the girl who always keeps a book in her bag, even at parties, even if she most likely won’t have time to read it. Just in case, you had said, you never know. You, though very well-mannered, called one of Helaena’s so-called friends a “spoiled cunt”, when you heard her making nasty jokes at Helaena’s expense behind her back.

“Sorry you had to hear that,” you had said to Aemond in a grumbling tone, still quite irate, when you found out that he was just in the library adjacent to their living room. “They were just being so… so…”

“Fucking rude?” he finished your thought, his dimples showing in amusement when your eyes widened. “Don’t worry, doll. Maybe I would have done the same. Though that Beatrice would never say shit about Helaena in front of me, seeing as she tried to claw off my jacket once. Her fake nail got caught in the leather. Her attempt at seduction, I suppose.”

Your mouth fell open, then closed once more. You were at a loss. Your blood was just boiling at having to confront Beatrice, who has thankfully left the penthouse, and now Aemond is standing in front of you. Aemond, sharing some story, in good humour. About some girl trying to get with him, and failing. Later on, you will find yourself jumping in frustration in your living room, thinking how in the hell your mind must have short-circuited because you responded with, “It’s a good thing I keep my fingernails trimmed and plain then.”

It was Aemond's turn to stand there, lips parted in surprise at your sudden show of audacity. Where has this girl been hiding all this time? Or has she always been this way? Then your face morphs into one of shock, and you remain still, waiting for some other pin to drop. Something to distract Aemond so you can mumble some excuse and run away. Aemond observes the minute changes in your expression, like you’re struggling to get your bearings, and he finds it all endearing.

Suddenly, the door you had been leaning against is pried open, making you take a step closer to Aemond. An unruly, blonde mop of hair that can only belong to Aegon pokes itself inside, “What are you nerds doing in the damn library?”, then he turns on his heel letting the door slowly close on its hinges, “Never mind, I’m gonna get a drink!”

At the exact same time, you and Aemond burst out in a fit of laughter, the pure and melodic sound of it echoing throughout the room. The very first time that Aemond witnessed you laughing freely in front of him, and his thoughts would later drift back to this moment. To the way your eyes lit up, how your teeth clamped down on your bottom lip to keep from laughing harder, and how your dainty hand clasped his forearm, holding on to him for a while.

He did not know then, not yet at least, that he had started falling for you.

When your desire had become apparent, you did not attempt to cross a line. Correctly inferring that Aemond valued his solitude, you became content with admiring him from afar, treasuring every small interaction. 

Everyone keeps remarking at how different he is around you, and maybe you do not realize the truth of their claims, because you had never seen him… like this. So broken. His mask of composure torn to shreds.

No longer the caring, attentive, and self-assured Aemond you claimed to desire. 

“Aemond?” Helaena's voice drifts from his door, which is opened narrowly. She silently lets herself inside when he does not respond.

“Care for some dinner?” she asks, her gentle voice almost breaking through Aemond’s resolve. Perhaps it might have been able to, but not anymore.

“No, I’m not hungry.” Aemond answers, barely audible.

“Right.” Helaena doesn’t press further; she knows that nothing will shake her brother while he’s in such a state, so she tries to bring up something else. Something that might get his attention. “So, I, uh… y/n just called me.”

Helaena notices Aemond slightly tense up at the mention of your name. So that’s what it takes, she thinks.

“Aemond,” she steps closer, now standing beside his chair. “Why were you outside the bookstore where she works?”

Aemond shuts his eyes. Of course you had seen him. And he saw you, clear as day. Beautiful as ever. With bloody Jace right next to you, laughing while sharing some coffee he had brought. 

“She misses you, you know,” Helaena says, and the words drive straight through Aemond’s heart. “I really think you just should speak to her.”

“Hmm.”

“What are you even afraid of?”

A long pause, as Helaena waits for a reply. Fidgeting with the edge of her sweater, she begins to say something more, when Aemond finally says, in a muffled, reluctant tone, “She deserves better.”

“Of course she does!” Helaena perches on the edge of Aemond’s desk, and his eye drifts over her for just a second, before looking down at the object again. “So call her and - ”

“Better than me.” Aemond clarifies, croaking the final word as if in pain.

“Oh, Aemond.” Helaena’s lifts an arm in an attempt to offer comfort, but Aemond instinctively flinches.

“No.” He breathes. “I can’t.”

Helaena nods in understanding, though her heart aches at the sight of her brother like this. She looks to the side, and sees the journal-seeming object sitting on his brother’s desk. The thing he seems to be staring at. 

Helaena lets her fingers run over the smooth forest green cover, and she instantly recognizes it to be Valyrian leather. A rare commodity, so this must not be just any ordinary journal.

“May I?” she whispers, to which her brother shrugs in response.

She gently pries open the leather clasp, and she sees a dedication on the first page, in a swooping scrawl that can only be Aemond’s. Some special ink was used, staining the page with a deep shade of maroon. It reads in High Valyrian, their native language - Ñuha prūmia iksis aōhon.

“I meant to give that to her… before…”

My heart is yours.

“Aemond-” Helaena mutters, her mind stuck on the words, and she knows exactly who they are meant for.

Aemond abruptly rises from his seat, and puts on his black coat, “Just put that back where you found it.” Reaching for something else on his desk, he puts it on his face to conceal his deformity.

Before her brother reaches the door, Helaena manages to voice out, ���Where are you going?”

“Away.”

Two weeks before the Dragonstone ball

The accident finally seems to have departed from the mainstream, turning into fodder for small talk as all sensational news pieces do. 

Unsurprisingly, despite the tragic event, excitement abounds. The city is buzzing in anticipation. Everyone is already poring over the main list of attendees which has been made public online. You only glanced at it once to confirm that you are on the list as Jace’s partner, but something else catches your attention. You immediately close the tab in your browser after you read - Aemond Targaryen - and across from his name, as his designated partner - Alys Rivers.

“For fuck’s sake,” you sigh, biting your lip. You opt to open Youtube, but immediately your homepage reminds you of your recent activities. Not stalking, no. Just some curious research. Aemond has never been one to give interviews. That’s more in Aegon’s wheelhouse. Daeron especially, since he also works as a model, gracing the front cover of Vogue thrice already at only 22. 

When Aegon graces the headlines, it’s most likely due to some disorderly conduct at a high-class party or a local dive bar. True to his brand, there is no in-between when it comes to Aegon. It’s either go big or go home. Which usually means he ends up drunk on the sidewalk, having to call Aemond to pick him up and give him a ride without letting their parents know.

But they always find out, of course. It’s hard to be discreet when you’re one of the most recognizable faces in the country.

As for Aemond, you’ve always found it hard to find even a single crumb of him from the internet. Save for a couple of sightings, including those of him and Alys Rivers, and clippings from the few times when he would speak in press conferences on behalf of Dragonstone. But even those were kept mostly private, and not freely available on Youtube. 

As it happens, there have been some rumours of Aemond allegedly coming into blows with the Duke of Lannister and his entourage, after humiliating the man’s sister. Onlookers claimed that they saw the poor girl coming onto Aemond at some party in Pentos, flirting with him. Apparently, he was far from welcoming of her affections. There were some pictures of the fight, or at least, that’s what people say. You were not in the loop when the news spread, sitting through a lecture. Any trace of such pictures quickly vanished from the internet. The Targaryens are always on the lookout to protect their precious image, but they’ve never done anything so methodical when it comes to such occurrences, such as Aegon’s countless mishaps. 

Aemond does have an Instagram profile. You asked him about it once, ages ago, even before your brief - what would you call it… Tryst? Dating period? Well, whatever it was, it’s all done for now.

“Was it your idea to have a profile anyway?” you asked him, after he had playfully teased you about stalking him. That was the only verified account of Aemond’s that you found, complete with the blue tick. His profile was empty, and the following list was at a whopping zero. Though of course, he had about 3.7 million followers, just waiting for the moment that he would choose to do anything on the site.

“Yeah, I suppose.” Aemond looked down and smiled, and you did not know it, but he found himself feeling warm due to the interest you were giving him. He’s confident about nearly everything, but when on the receiving end of attention from the woman he secretly longed for, he felt almost shy. “It was mostly due to the fact that I wanted to have one sole verified account online. I’ve heard talks of impersonators sending people messages and all that. Fucking annoying.”

“Ah, yeah.” You did not tell him, of course, but you knew of those fake accounts, having clicked on several slightly convincing ones to see if they were actually his. But none of them matched. You found yourself muttering, “He would never post that.”

“Didn’t hurt that I got to look through your pictures, too, love.” He smirked then, regaining his confidence. 

You nearly melted into a puddle on the fancy designer-carpeted floors of their apartment, right then and there.

That doesn’t matter now. You sigh, slamming your laptop shut. Instead you choose to dramatically jump onto your bed and growl your frustrations out onto a pillow. 

You roll over, amused at the whole thing. The digital alarm clock Helaena gave you reads 6:32 pm, it’s a Friday night, and you’re left with nothing to do. You’ve already finished the majority of your exams, and for the next month or two, you’re free to go on holiday and do whatever you wish.

But what? You finally decide to give Helaena a call, and reach for your phone on the nightstand. But right then, it lights up. ‘Hel’s Bells’ is calling you. An inside joke the two of you came up with about a week after you met.

“Speak of the devil,” you smile, and press accept. “Hel! I hope you’re just about as bored as I am.”

She laughs on the other end, “I don’t even have time to be bored. Mother has us doing all these preparations for the ball.”

“Do you need any help? I’m no expert at pomp and pageantry but I’ll do my best.” She had just stayed at your apartment a few nights ago for a sleepover, and you noticed that she was careful when mentioning anything about the ball. Trying not to stray into Aemond and Alys territory for your sake, you assumed.

“Sure, come over whenever you want. I don’t really have any idea what it’s all for, but hey, at least we get to put on fancy dresses and look pretty.”

“Oh, you always look pretty,” you say sincerely. 

“Thank you, doll,” she says, before sighing dramatically. “Anyway, I actually called to tell you something. You’re going to come over to our place on Sunday night. We’re throwing a little party.”

“A party, huh.” Will Aemond be there, you wanted to ask, but held back. 

You haven’t seen him for the last three months, after the fateful night of the accident. There was that incident when he parked outside the bookstore, but it was barely anything. 

Word on the street is that the ‘Prince of the city’ had gone into hiding, as comical as that sounds to you. For what exactly? There has been speculation - perhaps he was left horribly disfigured from the accident, which is also why there isn’t any trace of the alleged pictures taken of him in Pentos. But Helaena immediately dissuaded that notion. My brother is not disfigured, she insisted when you brought it up, he’s simply recovering.

If Aemond wants to keep things to himself, then he has the right to do so. He would tell you if he wanted. Call you, send you a message. Anything. 

“A party,” Helaena repeats. “It’ll be for our inner circle. Which includes you, of course. A little prequel to the ball, so everyone can catch up with each other.”

“Aegon’s idea?” you guessed with a wry smile. 

“There might be a direct correlation there, yeah,” Helaena laughs. “Anyway, come over! Since you’re coming with Jace to the ball, then we have to plan everything for you, too! What colour dress do you want to wear? Well, there is a theme but we’ll work with that. Mum assigned a stylist and hairdresser for me, which means they’re for you too and - ”

“Hel, I don’t really need - ”

Then she says something that puts a stop to your protest. “Oh, Aemond won’t know what’ll hit him.”

“Huh.” The thought of seeing Aemond again gives you a surge of excitement. And nervousness. Your yearning for him reawakens, but it never truly left.

Having made her point, Helaena knows she’s got you hook, line and sinker. “I’ll expect you in the next hour.”

-----------------------------

Sunday came rolling over soon enough, and the party at the Targaryen penthouse is well under way.

The ballroom on the 2nd floor is packed, filled with people whom you either don’t know or barely recognize. Of course, it wouldn’t be complete without some snooty heirs and heiresses who would openly regard you with what could be confusion or derision. Until a Targaryen or Velaryon would approach you and eagerly whisk you away in conversation.

“Who is she?” you hear someone say when Jace takes your hand and directs you to sit on the couch with him and Daeron. “Why is Jace so close to her? And what on earth is she wearing?”

Unfazed by it all, and already used to such comments, you smile sweetly in that girl’s direction and greet her with a friendly, “Hi, how are you doing?”, without giving her a chance to respond.

Jace watches the exchange proudly. As you sit down, he says, “Aegon invited her, I think. I don’t really know, I don’t like her much.”

“How come?” you jest. “You two have so much in common. Heirs to the kingdom and all that.” Your sarcasm again comes out of you in waves, trying to temper your nerves. You look around the room, though it is not the first time you’ve scanned through everything. 

“I’d much prefer your company,” Jace easily says, then notices your divided attention. “He isn’t here.”

In a transparent attempt at surprise, you ask,“Who?”

Daeron overhears the exchange, after his friend stands up to get a drink. “Aemond’s not here, y/n. At least I haven’t seen him. Last I heard he was holed up in our holiday estate in Pentos.”

“Oh.” Your face visibly falls. You didn’t know what to expect, really. Of course Aemond would  not just show up at this party after avoiding everyone for too long.

“He will be at the Dragonstone ball though,” Daeron pats your knee in sympathy. “He might be going through some shit, but mum would lynch him if he misses that event.”

Jace and Daeron continue to look at you, seeing if they need to offer more comfort, and you can’t stand it. “Alright, you two. Thanks for… I don’t know… but this is a party! We should just go and have fun. No need to be concerned about me and…” You choke up at his name, negating your false show of indifference. 

“Okay,” Jace says, saving you from saying anything further. “How about I get you a drink, hmm?”

“Yeah,” you say, but something crosses your mind. You stand at the same time as Jace, grabbing his arm, “Actually, I’ll go get some air first.”

“Are you alright?” This time, Jace’s sincere gaze is not enough to distract you from that familiar gnawing ache.

“I am,” you smile placatingly. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

-----------------------------

Aemond Targaryen, contrary to what everyone in the party believes, is no longer wasting his days in Pentos. 

He had slipped back into the city earlier that night, and in the safety of their 7-floor penthouse. Right in time for the revelry. He has no intention of making an appearance, but when Helaena let it slip that you would be attending, he could not help himself.

The fact that you would be under the same roof was enough to get Aemond to scurry back home. While he might not be ready to show himself just yet, there are methods which allow him to see you. Watch you.

Helaena would probably smack him upside the head, if she found out. That not only had Aemond come back without telling her, but also that he is watching her friend through the CCTV cameras littered throughout the penthouse. 

Perhaps it is unsavoury, and you might cross your arms and huff at him if you found out. Oh, what I would give to see that in person. But he’ll take what he can get. Do what he must. To still have you, still see you. 

His left knuckle is taut, still bandaged and bruised from his recent activities. Luckily, the stitches on his face had not come loose and the medical treatment his mother is putting him through has done considerable wonders. What would you think, I wonder, if you saw me like this, my love.

His laptop is propped up on his desk, right next to the green journal he means to give you. On the screen, he watches as you trail Helaena for a while. As you sit alone, watching everything unfold. As Jace comes for you, and you sit together on a couch. Too close. Too comfortable for Aemond’s liking. Is something going on between you and my fucking Strong nephew? 

When news reached him that you would be coming to the ball with Jace, Aemond had broken something. He can barely remember what it was, just the sound of it shattering against the wall. A wine bottle? A vase? A mirror? Whatever it was sent his company fleeing from their table, and Criston had rushed forward to make sure that he wasn’t harmed.

Aemond glares at the screen you walk after Jace and whisper something close to his ear. 

Jace regards you for a long while. He better not…

But then you nod and smile, stepping away from him. Aemond finds himself breathing a sigh of relief, predictably, and he almost snorts at his own reaction. 

You walk out of the ballroom, and Aemond has to switch between cameras to follow your path. You pause down the hallway, and lean next to the wall.

What are you doing, ñuha jorrāelagon?

Seemingly decided on something, you swing the door to the staircase, forgoing the elevator. The cameras on each landing track you as you continue to climb upward, panting slightly when you finally reach the entrance to the rooftop.

You take slow, sure steps toward the golden railing. For a moment, you just stand there, seemingly watching the city below.

I have to see you. I have to try. In a split decision, Aemond slinkers out of his room, the party below still unaware of his presence. 

Then he heads up the flight of stairs as you had done, feeling more apprehensive with each step. What do I even say to you? Do you still want to see me? He finally reaches the final landing, and heart in his throat, he pries the door open as silently as possible.

You no longer stand at the railing. Instead, he spies you sitting on the plush seat the two of you shared on that one night. Facing away from the entrance, looking up at the stars. 

Aemond knows that isn’t as it was before. He cannot simply approach you and watch as your eyes immediately welcome the sight of him. It’s not the same, and it is all his fault. He wonders if your heart might still race because of him, or will it have become cold, after all this time?

He draws closer, with each footstep uncertain. But your pull is stronger, taking precedence over all of his worries. 

“I miss you,” is all he can bring himself to say, throwing caution to the wind. You freeze at the sound of his voice. 

Then a shiver runs up his spine as it dawns on him - in his haste to see you, he left his eyepatch in his room below.

-----------------------------

I must be dreaming. The hairs along your arms stand in your shock, and you keep both hands flat on the seat to keep you steady. 

Is it… You start to turn back, but cease all movement when Aemond pleads, “Don’t. Please don’t turn around.”

“Aemond?” your voice is shaky, and you feel a tear threaten to escape. “They said… we all thought…”

“They do not know that I am back yet,” he answers. “Just you.”

“Oh.” Your head is still turned to the side, and you have to fight the urge to simply rise from your seat and face him. You exhale, trying to calm down. When that doesn’t work, you lean back against the seat, and force yourself to count the windows on the building down the road. 

6… 7… 8… 

But the sudden feeling of his hands on your shoulders makes you lose all train of thought.

“Did you miss me?” Aemond asks, standing right behind your seat now, his sweater grazing the back of your head.

Your mind is flooded with thoughts of all that happened between the two of you - the beginning, the brief affair, the end. Is it the end? 

Answer him. “Did I miss you?” you bite your lip, and your brows scrunch in frustration. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Your expletive makes Aemond take a step back. “I-I’m sorry…”

“I’ve been so worried about you, Aemond!” Your hands bunch up into fists beside you. You did not realize you had all this pent up anger, with the past few months being spent pining. Longing. Yearning. Like some silly little fool. When he didn’t even make any effort to reach out to you, and the most you got from him was that episode outside the bookstore.

“Oh yeah, and what the hell were you doing outside my place of work?” you stand then, and lean against the railing in front of you, careful not to turn and catch a glimpse of him. “You wanted to speak to me? Well, why didn’t you just do that?” You can feel your erratic heartbeat pounding in your chest, and for a moment you become afraid that it might just stop altogether. 

“I did want to speak to you. To see you.” Aemond sighs heavily. “I always want to see you, my darling. You’re all I’ve ever thought about since - ”

“Yeah, right. I bet you did.” You threw the offhand accusation over your shoulder.

“I did,” Aemond swears. “I miss you every day, I -”

His voice is softer than before, and kind of nervous. Your resolve is at risk of breaking, because… Why does Aemond sound… broken?

He finishes, “I just needed some time.”

There are so many more that you want to ask him - What really happened in that accident? Where have you been all this time? What is going on with you and Alys? Where do we truly stand?

But instead you mutter the one thing you are most certain of, “I miss you too.”

Aemond breathes a sigh of relief. He moves to stand behind you, and steps closer. 

Closer. You don’t dare move a muscle, because you just might turn around and forget about his request. He moves closer, until his chest is pressed against you from behind. Closer, until his hands squeeze both of yours on the railing.

You feel Aemond rest his face on your shoulder, inhaling deeply. At this point, he is practically enveloping you. Each breath he takes warms your neck. His thumbs run over your knuckles, and he says, “Are you still angry at me?”

“Should I be?” You lean your head back to rest on his right shoulder. From the corner of your eye, he looks as he always has. Almost ethereal, with his silver-blonde Targaryen hair and sharp, defined features. 

Aemond moves his head slightly toward the left, careful not to reveal the ruined side to you, when he feels your wandering gaze. 

“Please don’t be angry with me,” he pleads. You hum in affirmation, and in a lower voice, he purrs, “Close your eyes, darling.”

You try to ask why, but then you feel his lips lightly press against the nook between your neck and your shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut on their own goddamn volition.

His mouth parts even more, before coming down once again and nipping at your skin. His arms wrap themselves around your waist, and his hold tightens until your entire body is flush against him.

Still, you haven’t seen all of him. 

Your hand reaches up to touch him, and your fingertips graze the side of his face. When your thumb runs over a bit of what must be raised flesh, like some partially healed lesion, Aemond jumps away. At once, you feel the cool evening air hit you, the warmth of his embrace having gone.

“What is - ” you start to ask.

“It’s nothing.”

“Aemond…” you hesitate. What could possibly be so terrible, he won’t even allow me to look at him? “If anything happened to the way you look… it wouldn’t matter to me. You would still be the same boy that I lo - ” The words hitch in your throat, their sentiment heavier than anything you’ve ever said. 

Everything is at a standstill. Aemond does not say a single word, but you know that he understood what you were trying to say. He must.

And how can I even gauge his reaction when I can’t even look at him?

“Aemond?” 

Much to your surprise, his voice is already farther away when he responds with a hurried, “I’ll see you at the ball.” 

You swiftly turn around in your disbelief. Did he just fucking leave? 

The door to the penthouse shuts behind him, and you are left dumbfounded at his actions. The old Aemond would have never done that to you, but what do you know?

Perhaps my Aemond is truly gone.

The ball is coming up next!!! Reader may finally learn to let go of Aemond, or at least give him what he wants - a whole lot of space and time.

Also, reminder - Aemond's injury is still pretty fresh, considering the damage. So no, he hasn't stuck a sapphire in there yet. Imagine how little Aemond looked in episode 7, with angry stitches running down his face, but a bit more healed. His eye socket is still sewn shut, and it still causes him much pain, so go easy on our boy, y'all.

taglist still has some spots left! I've managed to continue it in the comments 🖤

and I would LOVE to hear your thoughts on this, and what you're hoping to read in the next part!!!

Series taglist: @caught-in-the-afterglow @aemondtargaryensrider @punggo66 @dollfaceyourfear @candypurplebutterfly @moonmaiden1996 @mxrgodsstuff @lolitaisreal @blue-serendipity @melsunshine @thejanecampaign @fxngsfxgxrty @padfooteyes @msmarvel-19 @tempo-rary-fix @lauraneedstochill @julczimozart @sarcasticfangirl @witchyvik @pyjama-shorts @bellaisasleep @zillahvathek @thincrusttheworks @krispold @yougotthatlove @raging-panda @fleetingly-artistic @throughgoeshamilton @polireader @katsav17 @minttea07 @kravitzwhore @meggiemay82 @hedonefox @daenysx @schniiipsel @namoreno @afro-hispwriter @aemondswifeisme @emcharra @malfoytargaryen @iiamthehybrid @fullmetalriotts @kellzlib @justsumtuffstuff @daydreamy-me @yentroucnagol @kezibear @queenofshinigamis @paprikaquinn

[kairiscorner]

question of the day: who would fall the hardest if they ever fell in love?

well... i've got 4 candidates in mind, and i think... (4/4)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

hobie brown. — guilty of falling hard for you.

summary: hobie never thought that he'd feel anything more than a friendly feeling with you–and he never wants that feeling to end. pairing: hobie brown x gn!reader genre: fluff !!

hobie brown does not care about labels, they do nothing but confine him to one facet of himself, and he finds that utterly displeasing. he's finally able to live his life with such bohemian freedom that he doesn't wanna let go of it by conforming to what people think of him. though, there is one label he doesn't mind considering as the truth... being the boy who loves you the most.

hobie brown has always seen eye-to-eye with you, despite being strangers not too long ago. the minute he met you, he could tell here was something special about you; maybe it was the way you talked, the way you walked, the way you laughed, your personality, your determination to never give up so easily... but whatever it was, you had him hooked on you.

hobie brown had never met anyone quite like you, and that was the best part about you--you had your own uniqueness, your own spark about you. every time he thinks he knows everything about you, he's suddenly thrown into another world, another side of you that he had never seen before and inevitably got blown away by.

hobie brown loves how you're like a firecracker--colorful, unpredictable, fiery, and hot--you're full of surprises that only he knows about, you're full of life and vigor and he gets more and more interested in you the more he sees you this way.

hobie brown can't believe, though, how easy it is for him to just like you. everyone at the spider society, every one of his close friends, all love you, that's for sure. but what he can't believe is how innate liking you seemed to him; it came as easy as breathing and blinking, as natural as it was for his heart to beat and for his brain to function.

hobie brown was sure that you weren't just anyone, no, you were... ethereal, you weren't ordinary; and nobody thought you were ordinary, you were aware of that. you were never one to comply with what society declared you should appear or act as, you were you, and that was the person hobie was most fond of: the real you.

hobie brown found himself tinkering with a new gizmo he had going on, he was a little anxious while making this, in complete honesty. he hadn't always been confident that every machine he makes'll work out the way he wants them to or even work at all, but he's accepted failure as part of the process. what he's anxious of is... if you'll like it.

hobie brown is shaking in the knees right now, but he's trying to play it cool, to shake that shaking out of his joints and act as calm and composed as he usually does around you, but it's too hard. it's too hard to calm around literally the most perfect person in the world that looks up to you and calls you their closest pal and who also has the sweetest laugh and smile in the world and the most perfect personality that anybody could ever seek for in a lover.

hobie brown is conflicting with himself right now, and this hasn't happened to him in years. hobie's muttering to himself the lines he practiced, trying to run by himself how being cool was supposed to be, because when he's trying to get a grasp of himself back in his mind, his mind defaults to thoughts of you.

hobie brown is blanking out right now, finally faced with you. he clears his throat and involuntarily flashes you a tiny, quivering grin. he's stuttering and stammering, which is quite uncharacteristic of him, but he was always unexpectedly cute no matter how he carried himself.

hobie brown finally says 'screw it' and clears his throat for the final time. "now, i... i might sound ridiculous right now, but... i remember you said you had a music box as a kid back then, always played the melody you hummed and taught me way back when we first met. a-and, well... i'm not the most skilled artist in the world, but, i'm your artisan, like you say. and this artisan hopes... that you like it." he said as he handed you a little box colored in your favorite hues with all kinds of colored papers, paints, and little designs on them with a wind-up dial on its side.

hobie brown anxiously watches you open up the box, and as he takes your hands in his to show you how to wind-up the dial, a couple of cats were on the little pedestal that popped up and twirled slowly as a soft beat from a song in your childhood played.

hobie brown smiled wider as he watched you grin and chuckle at the adorable little thing, he felt his heart skip a beat or two when he realized you were happy seeing this, having this in your hand, hearing those familiar notes from your childhood... and it was also here, when you told him a 'thank you' that his world became brighter. he got a bit heated in the face, his smile unwavering but instead growing, and he nodded as you leaned closer against him. he's decided, finally, that he indeed, does love you; and from that love... he fell, and fell hard for you, wanting to see that smile of yours every day not because of the music box or anything he gives you, but because of him. that is all hobie wants and needs in his life, that is all he yearns for to be complete--you and your happiness.

tags !! @k4tsu3 @euphovlq @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @arachnoia @solecitoszn @conitagray

[onlyonetifosi]

It was a warm summer day in the small town of Monte Carlo, where the Leclerc family resided. Charles and Arthur, the two eldest siblings, were already making waves in the world of motorsports. Their passion for racing burned bright, captivating the hearts of fans worldwide. But there was a forgotten ember in the family, YN Leclerc, the youngest sibling, who had always yearned to be a part of that racing world.

From a young age, YN had watched her brothers zoom past in their go-karts, leaving behind trails of dust and dreams. Her heart ached with a desire to be on the track, to feel the adrenaline course through her veins as she chased the checkered flag. However, the Leclerc family couldn't afford to support her aspirations. Racing was an expensive venture, and they had already invested everything in Charles and Arthur's careers.

Undeterred, YN sought solace in the humble surroundings of her father's garage. Amongst the wrenches, oil stains, and the smell of gasoline, a new passion sparked within her. She discovered a natural aptitude for engineering and car mechanics. With unwavering determination, she spent hours studying the intricate workings of engines, dissecting every bolt, and understanding the science behind speed.

As YN's skills grew, she found herself becoming part of her brothers' racing team. While Charles in F1 and Arthur in F2 showcased their driving prowess on the track, YN worked tirelessly behind the scenes. She fine-tuned their cars, ensuring every engine was in optimal condition, and adjusted suspension settings to suit different tracks. Her keen eye for detail allowed her to spot potential issues before they escalated, making her an invaluable asset.

"YN, mon cher, you have an incredible talent," Pascale Leclerc, their maman, said one evening as she watched YN tinker with an engine. "Your father would have been proud of you."

YN looked up, her hands still covered in grease. "Do you really think so, maman?"

Pascale smiled warmly. "Of course, my dear. Your father always believed in you, just as I do. Your brothers are making their mark in the racing world, but you, ma petite, you have the power to leave your own legacy."

Slowly but steadily, YN began to gain recognition for her technical prowess. Fellow engineers and mechanics admired her innate talent and the relentless dedication she brought to the table. She became a mentor to younger enthusiasts, imparting her knowledge and nurturing their passion for cars.

Yet, despite her achievements, YN couldn't escape the shadow of her brothers. She longed to carve out her own identity within the racing community.

One evening, as YN stood in the garage, contemplating her future, Lorenzo Leclerc, Arthur's manager, approached her. "YN, I've been watching you closely," he said in a low, gentle tone. "You're more than just a mechanic. Your understanding of the sport is unparalleled. Have you ever considered becoming a race strategist?"

YN's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and curiosity washing over her. "A race strategist? But I've always been behind the scenes..."

Lorenzo smiled. "Exactly. You've been the unsung hero, the one who ensures everything runs smoothly. Imagine having the power to make split-second decisions that can determine the outcome of a race. You have what it takes, YN."

As the seasons changed and years passed, YN navigated the world of motorsports with grace and resilience. She attended races, observing the tension and excitement of the pits, and strategized race plans alongside her brothers and their team. YN's insights and meticulous preparations became instrumental in their success. Her brothers, recognizing her invaluable contributions, spoke of her achievements with pride, giving her the recognition she deserved.

But amidst the triumphs, there was still a lingering ache in YN's heart. The memory of their father, Hervé Leclerc, haunted her. His passion for racing had been the foundation on which their dreams were built, and his untimely death had left a void in their lives.

One day, while they were all gathered in their family home, reminiscing about their father's love for the sport, YN mustered the courage to speak.

"Maman, Charles, Arthur," she began, her voice laced with emotion. "I miss him. I miss him so much. Every time I step foot in the garage, I can still feel his presence. He believed in me, didn't he?"

Pascale's eyes glistened with tears as she embraced her youngest child. "Yes, my darling. Your father believed in all of you. He saw the fire in your eyes, the same fire that burns within Charles and Arthur. Your path may be different, but you carry his spirit with you."

Charles and Arthur stood on either side of YN, their expressions filled with a mix of understanding and support.

"You've proven yourself time and time again, YN," Charles said, his voice firm yet gentle. "You're not just a mechanic or a strategist. You're our sister, and you're an integral part of our team. We couldn't have come this far without you."

Arthur nodded in agreement. "You've found your own place in the racing world, YN. You've forged a path that's uniquely yours. And we're proud to call you our sister."

Through her journey, YN discovered that her passion for engineering was not just a consolation prize; it was her calling. She found fulfillment in the knowledge that her work played a significant role in her brothers' victories. YN's dream of racing may have taken a detour, but she had found a purpose that was just as exhilarating.

In time, the world began to recognize YN Leclerc as more than just the sister of racing prodigies. She became a respected figure in the motorsports industry, known for her technical brilliance and unwavering determination.

As YN stood on the podium beside her brothers, the roar of the crowd echoing in her ears, she looked out at the sea of faces. In that moment, she realized she had found her own place in the fast-paced, adrenaline-fueled world of racing. YN Leclerc, the unsung hero, had emerged from the shadows and claimed her rightful spot beyond the checkered flag.

And as the Leclerc family celebrated their triumphs, their father's spirit lived on, forever etched in their hearts. For it was through their collective passion and unwavering support for one another that they transcended the limits of the racetrack and found solace in the memories they held dear.

[becca-e-barnes]

do you have any pornstar dbf!bucky thots👀

The Video

I've had this thought in my head all damn day and I just needed to write it. I'll link this piece on both my Dad's Best Friend!Bucky master list and the Pornstar!Bucky master list because I don't want to choose.

Consider this the piece I wrote to celebrate my birthday today 💗 here’s to 23 with you lovely folks! 🥂

Pairing: Pornstar! Dad's Best Friend!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3K

Summary: You find out what your father’s best friend does for work.

Warnings: Age gap (reader is in her mid 20’s, Bucky is in his late 40’s), vaginal fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, praise kink, mentions of rough pornography, dirty talk, pet names, degradation

Minors, do not interact

Avoiding Bucky had never been your plan, purely because it would’ve been a fucking stupid one.  Realistically, it wouldn’t have been easy to avoid someone who probably spent more time at your house than they did their own.  When he wasn’t at ‘work’, your father’s friend seemed to spend his time at your house, mowing the lawn or polishing your mom’s car or watching some pointless sports game with your dad.

You’d never really questioned what Bucky got up to for work.  You imagined growing up that he must’ve practiced a trade since he was always the one your father called to fix the kitchen sink when it sprung a leak or tinker with the garage door when it became difficult to pull down.

Now that you were fully clued in however, it all made painful sense why Bucky had been so evasive when you had come right out and asked him what he did for work the year before you graduated from college.

“What do you think I do, sweetheart?”  He had asked with a smirk tugging at the corners of his soft, pink lips.

“I have no idea, Buck!  You seem to have as much free time as you like, I just don’t understand how you pay the bills.”  You had mused, sitting in your own garage on a work bench, swinging your legs in front of you, secretly hoping that Bucky would notice just how cute and tiny those shorts you were wearing are.  Unfortunately for you, he didn’t look up from under the bonnet of your dad’s jeep.

“I guess you could say I’m self-employed, angel.  I pick and choose the jobs I want.  I have plenty of offers.”  He tried to keep it as non-descript as possible, dodging the question rather than lying about it.

“I bet you do, you seem good with your hands.”  He could tell by the genuine innocence in your voice that you truly had no idea.  You weren’t leading him to answer one way or another.

He huffed out a laugh as he grabbed the rag beside him, wiping the oil from his hands, muddying the white cloth with the dark residue.  “Oh sweetheart, you have no idea.”

It all made perfect sense now though, scrolling through picture after picture on your phone.  Every drag of your fingertip brought a fresh wave of video thumbnails, each somehow more obscene than the last.  The titles certainly weren’t much better.  

Pictures of beautiful young women flooded your screen.  Some had their makeup thoroughly ruined, mascara tracked down their cheeks and a fucked-out look in their eyes.  Some were on their knees, their hair grabbed into a rough ponytail while they rested the tip of a cock on their tongue.  Some were bent over, evidently ‘trapped’ under their bed with their ass in the air. 

Curiosity got the better of you, after ignoring a warning from your brain that this might be an invasion of Bucky’s privacy.  It was all posted on the internet after all, it’s not like he could keep it a secret forever.  

One video caught your eye, titled ‘James Barnes fucks tight brunette, HUGE cumshot’.  The crude objectification made you wince a little but the short snippet of video that the thumbnail provided you with seemed a little bit gentler than the rest.

Skipping the first few minutes helped you feel like you weren’t too invested.  This was research.  Plain and simple nosiness.  You had no intention of watching this for any purpose other than to see whether Bucky Barnes had perfected his craft or not.

“Shit, that’s it.  So fuckin’ pretty like this.”  The voice from your phone was familiar but so much lower than you’d ever heard it before; so deep, you could only have described it as a growl.

The girl whimpered, almost pathetically.  You couldn’t blame her.  Bucky wasn’t small by any stretch of the imagination and judging by the reaction of the woman he was buried inside, he managed to hit all the spots he needed to.

You’d heard fake moans before.  Hell, you’d made plenty of them yourself.  Enough to know that the woman you were watching wasn’t orchestrating hers for the benefit of the camera.  No, those were real.  Right down to the trembling thighs either side of Bucky’s narrow hips.

“You have no idea how perfect you feel.  Tight and wet and warm.  You take me so fuckin’ well.”  You watched as he slid inside her, painfully slowly.  Admittedly, her body did take him well, letting him sink in until he had nothing left to give.  This poor woman was already looking somewhat blissed out, begging him to fuck her but that’s when you skipped forward to about a minute before the end.  That same woman was now clawing at his muscular back, whimpering and sobbing delightfully while Bucky pounded into her.  He wasn’t holding back in the slightest, letting the same filth tumble from his lips.

“Oh baby, you sound like you can’t take any more.  Are you done?”  He was so condescending, it made your gut tighten with lust, a dull throb settling between your legs but the woman only shook her head.

“Good girl.  God, ’m so close.  You’ll never get enough, will you?  Just a needy fucking slut for me.  Gonna have you all cock obsessed.  Bet you’ll think of me every time you touch that pretty pussy of yours from now on.  You’ll be begging to see me again.”  Bucky sounded wrecked, finishing his sentence with a drawn out, low groan.  Within a couple of seconds, he had pulled out, splashing his seed all over the woman’s tummy, pearlescent spend rolling down her sides and onto the sheets while some pooled on her heaving chest.

Over the next few days, you tried desperately to get what you had seen out of your head.  You tried hard, you really did.  Perhaps it didn’t help that late at night, you found yourself going back to watch more.  Perhaps it also didn’t help that you found your hand drifting under your panties as you watched, taking care of that familiar throb that seemed to turn into an ache when you watched for too long without touching yourself.

Dodging Bucky was simple enough but you knew you couldn’t keep it up forever.  Hiding in your room couldn’t become a hobby just because you found out your father’s best friend, the older man you had been so innocently crushing on, was a porn star.

The first time you bumped into him though, it was game over.  He could tell just from the way you looked at him that something was up, or rather, the way you couldn’t look at him.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?”  He asked, watching you make yourself look busy in the cereal cupboard late one afternoon after he had walked into your kitchen.  You saw him coming and very obviously tried find any excuse that meant you wouldn’t have to talk to him.

“I’m fine, looking for cereal.”  You replied, your head almost buried in the cupboard.

“Well, I hope you find it.  If you can’t see it from there, you’ve got a problem.  I bet your nose is practically touching the box, you’re so deep in there.”  He sounded too damn amused and it only made you more embarrassed.  This really was the last thing you needed.  “Why are you avoiding me, honey?”

There it was.  You were called out.

“I’m not!”  You tried to sound sincere but you weren’t awfully successful; you knew even as you were saying the words that it wasn’t going to fly.

“Mhm, and the fact you saw me coming has nothing to do with how you’re buried shoulder deep in the cereal cupboard?  Don’t think I’m stupid.  I know you’re avoiding me.”  In hindsight, you maybe could’ve handled that a little bit better but now here you were, pulling yourself back out and forcing some painfully awkward eye contact.

“I’ve seen the videos.”  You mumbled, looking away and making yourself busy with your nails.

“Okay.”  He dragged the word out a little, slowing it down and only adding to it’s gravity.  “And?  You’re an adult.  You know what porn is.  Things don’t need to be weird but if you’re uncomfortable having me around, I can leave you alone.”

“No, you don’t have to, I don’t have a problem with it.  It’s all just very… Rough?”  You weren’t really sure this was a conversation you wanted to be having, shame burning in the pit of your stomach because clearly you’d just admitted to watching more than a video or two.

He paused for a second, nodding his head, the couple of light grey hairs at the crown of his head glinting in the light.  “You’re right, sweetheart.  It's a little rough at times.  That’s not my preference, that’s the script I’m given.”

That made sense and somehow settled you just a little.  “So you just stick to the script?”  You quiz, holding eye contact with him again for a few seconds before it got too intense.

“For the most part.  It doesn’t tell me what to say, that’s all up to me.  It just gives me direction.  It’s a running order of the scenes we’ve agreed to shoot.  Most of those videos certainly aren’t a representation of how I would want to fuck if I got the choice.”  His lips were curled in a soft smile, watching you lap this all up.

“A-and how would you want to fuck if you got to choose?”  You couldn’t quite believe you’d said it but apparently you did because the question hung in the air longer than you might have wanted it to.

“Well sweetheart, that depends.  I’d treat a pretty little thing like you a bit differently.  I’d have to be slow with you.  Really ease you into it.  I bet I’d have to spend a lot of time working you up to take me.  I think I’d start by giving you my tongue until I can slip a finger into you.  Then a second finger.  Maybe a third if I think you can manage it.”  He could see the effect this was having on you.  You’d wanted to imagine it while you’d watched his videos but you couldn’t bring yourself to fall into the fantasy.  Now he was dragging you into it.

“Then I’d put you on your hands and knees.  I’d tell you to rub yourself while I press inside you, so slow you’ll be begging me to give you all of me.  And when you’re at that point, ruined and desperate for more, I’ll fuck you nice and slow.  I’ll have you just as addicted as those other girls but with a kinder pleasure.  I’d tell you how beautiful you are and how badly I’ve wanted to kiss every inch of your skin I can.  I’d tell you how gorgeous you look when you cum and how it’s better than I ever imagined.”

God, this was something close to a dream come true.  “I-I’d like that.  That sounds… Nice.”  Words were really failing you, hoping this was a genuine offer and not just some hypothetical situation that would never play out.

“It does sound nice.”  Bucky huffed out a laugh.  “It sounds real fucking nice.  I shouldn’t want my best friend’s daughter cumming around me.  I know I shouldn’t.  I know I think about it far too often but nothing gets me off the way you do.”

Your breath caught in your throat, an embarrassing arousal throbbing its way around your body, settling in the pit of your stomach.  Heat blossomed in your chest, hoping beyond hope that this wasn’t some sick joke.  

“I want that.  But I don’t want you to be too gentle.  I want you to fuck me the way you want to fuck.  Not what you think I need.”  Your confidence almost caught him off guard and he didn’t expect to find it as sexy as he did.

“God, you’re a tease.”  He muttered under his breath, crossing the short space between you both to crash your lips against his.  You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the difference in size almost making you shudder because you’d never felt this small against a partner.

His lips were soft, his hands wandering seemingly everywhere at once and it was so much to take in.  Fuck, it was perfect.  Intense and hungry but not overwhelming.

“Bed, Buck.”  You pant between fervent kisses before he’s grabbed you by the back of the thighs, helping you wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you to your room. 

You both had your clothes stripped off in a frenzy, not giving much thought to anything other than the way your lips slotted together.  Your bottom lip felt perfectly at home between his teeth, the slight pain of his bite only making you moan.

“You’re such a good girl.”  He whispers, tugging your panties off and groaning when he realises how slick they are already.  “Fuck, I should’ve known how bad you’d need this.  It’s always the ones you least expect.”

His breath feels so hot on your neck, littering the skin with kisses and gentle nibbles, panting tiny groans against you while his fingers slide over your core.

You’re wet and messy, aching with a need you didn’t know you were capable of.  “Oh sweetheart, I could slip right into you.  You’re soaking wet for me.  God, you’re a dream.”

“Buck, please.  I want your tongue later.  P-please just fuck me first.”  You could hardly manage a conhesive thought with the way his fingertips played with your body ever so gently, alternating between rubbing little circles on your clit and teasing your hole with the tips of two fingers, pressing them in just to the first knuckle.

“This is wrong, sweetheart.  So fucking wrong.  I shouldn’t get this fuckin’ excited hearing you beg for my dick but it’s all I’ve wanted for months.”  His voice is just as low as you heard in those videos, dripping with arousal.

“The only thing ‘wrong’ here is the fact you’re not inside me yet.”  You giggle quietly, rolling over and presenting your ass to him, exactly how he had described earlier.  

Whatever self-control he had was gone.  Long gone.  The sight of you offering your slick, hot core was more than enough to ruin him but the way you watched him over your shoulder with an excited smile almost had him trembling with need.

“This is wrong.”  He whispered, lining the tip of his dick up with your entrance, grunting at the feeling of the wet heat.

“So wrong.”  You repeated quietly.  “S-so fucking wrong.  We shouldn’t be doing this.”  You were breathless already, pressing yourself back until his tip had just slipped inside you.  “We shouldn’t need this as badly as we do.”

Bucky’s groan was beautiful, watching as you shifted yourself back to allow the rest of his length to slide slowly into you.

“You know damn well what you’re doing to me.”  He sighed, looking away from the sight of his thick length gliding home.  “Play with yourself.  I won’t last long this time sweetheart but trust me, I’ve got all night with you.”  

You’d never seen him this wrecked so early on in any of his videos so you did as you were told, letting two fingers circle your clit the way you often did when you watched him slide into those other women.  

You heard him take a deep breath, pulling back out as far as possible without slipping out before pressing back in again, dragging a soft groan from both of you.  This was everything you’d both longed for and more.

His huge hands squeezed the cheeks of your ass, admiring the how soft and plush it felt under his touch, dragging himself back out only to press back in, earning another groan.

You could’ve taken this forever, enjoying the way his tip nudged that delicate spot inside you while your fingers worked exactly how you like them to.  This was bliss in its truest form.  This was the passion you had craved, the gentle touches and soft praises but accompanied by an all-consuming pleasure.

“Faster Bucky, please.”  You whined and hell, you looked like a goddess, fallen forward onto the bed, so consumed by sensations that you wanted to have no control over and he could recognise that so clearly.

“Tell me you need me.”  He panted, speeding up his thrusts, letting each one land beautifully before forcing himself momentarily from the heat of your body once more.

“Oh God, I need you.  I need you, Bucky.  I need you to fuck me faster.  Fuck me harder.  It feels so good.  I’m gonna cum for you, I just need more.”  You couldn’t help but sob, drowning in the litany of groans and curses falling from the older man lips.

Your fingers worked faster, in time with the thrusts you were receiving until it all come crumbling down around you.  The knot in your tummy tightened unbearably, your heart pounding as the sensation took over entirely.  It was a perfect release, your body clenching and tightening rhythmically while you sobbed the ecstasy into the pillow under your head.

“Oh good girl, that’s it.  Cum nice ‘n hard.  O-oh God.”  You vaguely registered Bucky coaching you through your orgasm before reaching his own but unlike any of his videos, he didn’t pull out.  He stayed buried inside you, pressed as deep as he could go.  You felt the weight of his seed inside you, the position allowing it to drip deeper, pooling at your cervix and the thought alone made you shudder.

“My God, that was…. Wow.”  He laughed, kissing down your spine before pulling out and flopping onto the bed beside you.  

“Yeah… Wow.”  You giggled, kissing his cheek and curling up against him, not really worried that you were both a little sweaty.  

“I meant it though.  I’ll be gentle with you later.  I’ll take my time with you.  I just needed that.”  He kissed your forehead, running a hand down your back and damn, he certainly wouldn’t hear you complaining.

[catt-nuevenor]

The Future

Time to establish what's going to happen from this point forwards.

The vast majority of you have been exceptionally patient this last year, and for that you have my deepest thanks. You've given me the time to not only write a book, but edit it, and send it off to literary agents, something I would have long given up on doing without the continued support of those who enjoy my writing.

Now that the book is off doing the rounds independently, it's time I got back to Myrk Mire.

Originally Myrk Mire was built in ChoiceScript, a scripting language created by the Choice of Games company. Choice of Games control what is done with their script, understandably, they own it. This does pose some restrictions. I can't, for example, release any paid material built using ChoiceScript unless it is directly through their publishing label. If I do publish under their label, I maintain IP or Intellectual Property Rights, however I also grant them the exclusive rights under perpetual license to publish the multiple choice game 'electronically'.

Source: Choice of Games.com

As you can see from the outline above, they do make exceptions for stories published in non-competing formats, and for sequels, prequels, and spin-offs. However, traditional publishing houses might require stricter control over IP, distribution, and exclusivity. It will only become more and more complicated as things progress, and being locked into a perpetual license agreement of any nature is not a decision to make lightly.

As some of you may be sensing from the tone of all this so far, I'm going to be moving Myrk Mire away from Choice of Games and ChoiceScript, and into a new medium/format.

After tinkering, and trialling with a few alternatives, I've decided to go with Renpy. Renpy, while largely used for visual novel style games and stories, provides a very workable framework for interactive fiction, and is an Open Source script, it isn't beholden to publishing contracts, licence cost, or exclusivity.

I'm not going to be diving into transferring Myrk Mire right away, it's a huge piece of writing, in an entirely different scripting language, and as previously stated, there are a lot of changes I want to implement with the cast. Instead, I'm creating a trial story: One Háḟest Day. My Patrons have been aware of all this for about a month or so, and have already seen some previews.

One Háḟest Day takes place in Aldmirham before the events of Myrk Mire, around the time the Main Character and the Wanderers first arrived in town. The reader will have the choice to follow one of the romanceable characters through a single day, with opportunities to explore their lives and relationships before the Main Character and Child come along. I hope it will provide a proving ground for the changes that previously caused debate, and an opportunity for people to try out the new format and interface.

My plan is to distribute One Háḟest Day through Itch.io, working with their early access framework and voluntary payments for such as soon as one of the character routes is ready to play from beginning to end, updating regularly with the other characters as they too are completed, and with additional features as required. Once the full game is complete, I will release a separate full build with a set minimum price that can be discussed with the community as we move forwards.

At the second, I'm aiming for a web hosted format and a desktop/laptop downloadable format, with phone compatibility to come later down the line once things are stable.

I will post production updates and info when I can to tumblr, though a lot of what I'm doing now is very python coding heavy, so perhaps not that interesting?

I've included some screenshots below of very early development, featuring a Character Log and Word Log that I hope will allow readers to more easily navigate the story. I'm toying with the idea of having a Mysteries Log as well that will keep track of snippets of information gleaned from each character's route, but that can be a tinkering feature for now.

Let me know your thoughts, concerns, or excitement, though do keep all messages objective and polite.

[guacamoleroll]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖈𝖍𝖔 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖈 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖘 「𝔣𝔶𝔬𝔡𝔬𝔯 𝔡𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔢𝔳𝔰𝔨𝔶」 ༉‧₊˚

content. f!reader. implied breaking-and-entering, fireworks, metaphors about stars, soft!fyodor, he's secretly down-bad, he's also incredibly possessive. descriptions of moscow (red square, st. basil's cathedral), mentions of eastern european food (pirozhki), references to greek mythology (perseus and andromeda), jokes about greek incest. not proofread. 2.2k+ words.

author's note. starting the last of my fics for the year with the first bungou stray dogs character i've ever written for. thank you for such a lovely year! ࿐ ♡ ˚ .

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

synopsis. within the last minutes of the year, sitting underneath the stars, two lovers discuss the stories mapped within constellations. in themselves, they find that some tales are timeless.

"It's so lovely at this time of night."

You couldn't contain your astonishment as flurries coasted to the earth in silent swells, dusting the city in a sheen of sparkling white. With an outstretched hand, you gathered flakes into your palm, admiring them before they melted with the heat of your skin. The riverside stilled as you coasted along the sidewalk, frozen in thickening ice as parents ushered their children away from its tempting surface. Tourists clustered under trees, shivering in their thin hats and coats as they underestimated the spite of Russia's wind. But despite the chill, there was an unmistakable gaiety in the air, smiles strewn on glassy faces as they awaited the new year.

You tailed behind Fyodor as he sauntered forward with broad steps, unable to catch your breath as the basket of freshly baked pirozhki settled heavily in your stomach. Your eyelids threatened to close as exhaustion crept into the corners of your vision; journeying between museums, promenading through parks, and scowering various foods had taken a toll on your energy.

You groaned. "Do we have to go tonight?"

He merely chuckled, the velvety bass of his voice tracing goosebumps down your spine, easily distracting you from the fact that he hadn't answered your question. Your field of vision spiraled into a haze, thoughts shot far in the distance despite the frost attempting to rouse you, left unaware as an assured hand ushered you inside a concealed entrance to the luminous structure slumbering outside of Moscow's main square. You walked forward into the endless darkness, only to bump into something sturdy. Your fingers carded through the puffed fur of Fyodor's coat, tugging on its ends.

"Fyodor?"

With a click, the room was brought to life. The high-vaulted ceiling outstretched to reach the heavens above, walls embellished with intricate frescoes of ancient Abrahamic tales. Flares of resplendent color danced across the floor as moonlight met glass, casting waves of softened light upon your skin. A labyrinth of winding corridors hid in the shadows, prompting any curious wanderer into a trove of antediluvian alcoves and chapels.

Your jaw dropped, gawking at every deliberate component. "What is this place?"

"It was a cathedral erected in honor of Tsar Ivan the IV." His gloved hand puckered altar cloth between his gracile fingers, tracing the embroidery as his mind drifted elsewhere.

You hummed, racking your brain as it itched in anamnesis. "Wasn't that the terrible one?"

He was silent as he released the fabric from his fingers, but the self-satisfied smirk told you everything you needed to know. "Indeed. This place once brimmed with life, hosting religious gatherings and services for the denizens of this city." His boots snicked against the tile, the noise reverberating as it spun towards the ceiling. "It has been left as a relic of time."

You ever-so-delicately brushed your hand against one of the columns, not wishing to disturb the peace of stillness and rest that blanketed the cathedral.

"How marvelous."

Your attention went astray as Fyodor tinkered at a lock, the hinges of a thin door ricketing with unsettling squeaks as he stood aside, uncloaking a never-ending staircase to the unknown.

"After you."

Your muscles cramped with every step, dread buried deep in your gut as your vision remained impaired, the flashlight beam smattering inconclusive rays of light as it aimed at your back. It was almost like the architects had attempted to reach the clouds, their grandiose endeavor churning a flare in your back as you slumped against the wall, your lungs burning with every passing moment. Your spirit was invigorated at the sight of a door through the dime ire of light, basking in your relief as you stepped out the door, the crisp breeze of winter striking your skin as—!

"W-Woah!"

Your feet teetered over the ridge of the roof; only your ankles remained flimsily rooted onto solid paneling as your arms swung out to balance yourself. Fortunately for you, an arm wrapped around your waist, drawing you back against Fyodor's chest. A quick peek upward towards his impish expression revealed everything you needed to know.

"You must be careful, любимая."

Your breath was shuddery, inwardly wavering on whether to punch him or kiss him, the indecisiveness reigning victorious as you pointedly ignored the mellifluous lilt of his tone, hands binding to his arm as your gaze locked onto the ground several hundred feet below.

"Good lord, we're high," you muttered between pants.

His arms braced you further against his chest, leaning away from the perilous drop. "You're trembling." The tension in your grip eased at the sensation of a gentle kiss against the crown of your head. "You know I'd never let you fall, hm?"

"Right." You released the amalgam of tense breath that clawed at your throat, able to balance on your own two feet as you settled your view to the skies.

Your feet shuffled across the panels as you slogged onto a wider expanse of the roof, slumping against a wall as the tension evaporated out through your fingers, the nightmare of plummeting from the roof erased from your mind. However, you swallowed a yelp as the flashlight flickered off, leaving the both of you enshrouded in complete darkness—at least for a brief moment.

Clouds stacked in bunched within the stratosphere, mirroring fragments of light that bounced from below in a nebulose aurora. But despite the wonderment of their decadence, they lost their luster once the stars peaked through their fogged edges, the finite speckles scattered like freckles across the canvas of the heavens. They felt close enough to touch if only you reached out toward them, daring to do so. Your fingers trailed maps of these celestial bodies, finding a sense of peace in their familiar patterns.

"Are you familiar with Ovid's Metamorphoses?" Your voice pierced through the silence.

"I can't say I am."

You withheld the impulse to laugh—he had the entire compendium of books in his personal library. It would be a surprise if he hadn't at least skimmed them, but you decided to humor him this once, scooching closer to point towards a specific cluster of stars.

"Those are the constellations of Perseus, the son of Zeus, and Princess Andromeda, the daughter of King Cepheus and Queen Cassiopeia."

You took his silence as an encouragement to continue. "Perseus found Andromeda chained to a rock as a sacrifice to the sea monster, Cetus, by her parents in order to save her home." Your fingers drew out the character within the stars, a grin upturned on your lips as you envisioned the archaic tale in your mind. "It was told that he found her so beautiful that he slayed the monster, rescuing her before fighting against her uncle for her hand-in-marriage."

"Her uncle?" Fyodor mused.

Your nose scrunched in a grimace. "There's a lot of that in those stories, I'm afraid."

"The couple went on to live happily ever after—an extremely rare ending to most ancient stories."

"There is a simple explanation for that," he replied.

You snickered, already aware that your open-ended commentary would eventually lead to some thoughts from the infamously brilliant man.

His eyes rolled in return at your amusement, disregarding the tightness of his chest. "We hold onto ancient tragedies because they are a reflection of life. Nothing in our world is as simple as a happy ending." A vacant look ruled over his features, a familiar expression that often shielded his thoughts within the dark, contemplative hours of the night. "Most aspired heroes never reach their potential due to their blind devotion to selfish aspirations and goals."

"You're right," you sighed, hands balled against the corner of his cape in an attempt to thaw your frozen fingers. You wanted to say more, but it felt like your mouth was cotton-filled. So, instead, you returned your eyes to the sky.

"Sometimes, I wish I was a constellation." He looked at you. "Even with its flaws, this world is undoubtedly beautiful from above. I like to think the stars admire us just as much as we do them."

And he didn't say anything more; he didn't need to. Instead, he reigned you onto his lap, his coat shrouding your shoulders as he shared its warmth. You leaned into his embrace, basking in the flutter inside your chest.

"You're awfully cold, милая," he grumbled, his fingers mapping your frigid palms.

"Our roles are reversed now," you quipped. "I hope you think about this the next time you decide to stun me with your hands in the morning."

"I'm afraid I might forget," he whistled.

"You little—"

But you found your voice hidden underneath layers of crackling. You ogled as fireworks wiggled their way into the night sky, shimmering onto the city square, the towers of the Kremlin becomen heavenly statues as their structures temporarily glistened. Without a second thought, you grabbed onto his hands, giving them a squeeze with each pop. You were so attentive to the collections of radiant sparks that you didn't notice the eyes boring into your skin; Fyodor's gaze averted from the fireworks to contemplate the interlacement of your fingers.

He surmised you were to be his future the moment you had locked eyes for the first time—his destined, pre-ordained other half as he journeyed to actualize God's promised land. It wasn't a surprise that someone was fated to remain in his keep—another loyal follower, too intertwined in their own aspirations to connect to his cause without deliberate guidance.

But not you. 

You may not have supported his cause with the devotion of his witless flock, but you understood it better than anyone. And most importantly, you understood him. You peered through his intricate plans and performative malice, reading into his cause as you unraveled his intentions. It had been an enticing cat-and-mouse game, the both of you constantly entangled in a mental match, intellect and morals clashing. He knew you were his perfect match from your analytic dexterity, but he had no idea that you would pull at the strings cast around his heart, ones he believed had been severed long ago.

His heart had never belonged to anyone or anything—his mind and will were forever devoted to his cause, but his heart hadn't beat since before he could even remember. The sudden constriction of his chest was so foreign.

You must've been quite the powerful woman to kickstart the heart of a demon, excavating a trove of humanity he had buried within himself with a simple glance of your eyes—and all without knowing, your gentle expression puncturing through his abstruse masquerades, somehow able to see everything except the turmoil that you left in the wake of your very touch.

He found himself less and less concerned about the echoed beat of his heart within the emptiness of his chest, too captivated by your smile as you beheld the heavens with a benevolent expression, savoring the burning red and gold sparks despite their dullness in comparison to you. In spite of himself, your everlasting happiness had become an intrinsic component in his plans.

You were made to remain at his side—not as a brainless devotee, but as his equal and often opposite. The world, so rotten yet somehow divine through your benevolent gaze, may try to pull you away, but he'd have no issue burning cities to their ashen roots if anyone dared attempt to pry you from his hold.

His lithe fingers outlined the constellations of every freckle and beauty mark, star patterns copied onto your skin as his touch drifted your attention from the flashes and flickers to him, your inquisitive eyes scanning his face as he remained unmoved.

"Федя?" 

He shuddered with unparalleled delight at the euphonious sound of his mother language slipping like honey from your tongue, foreign to your lips yet dulcet all the same. Your bonniness beaconed him forward, a heat flowering in his once cavernous chest as he captured your lips, which were as soft as the powdered snow that glinted on your skin. His heavy breath tickled your nose, which crinkled in tandem with your eyes as you drew him in for another. Words became meaningless, his skin seared like static as your arms drew him closer, skin scorched from the cold of your hands against the nape of his neck.

He tucked your hair behind your ear, ensuring that your empyreal features weren't veiled further as flakes of snow flurried once more, your parted lips and shallow breath leaving him in a helpless state of complete limerence. He stirred as his hand brushed against your pulse, your own heart racing concertly with his.

You parted in bittersweet bliss, yearning imbued in your bones as your hands drifted towards one another to intertwine. His forehead rested against yours, your shared breath permeating in spirals within the open air as he peered into your hazy, glossed-over eyes.

His hand cupped your cheek, the frame to a divine masterpiece. "Ты согреваешь мою душу, мое нежное солнышко. Твоя красота вне всякого сравнения; твой разум безупречен." He had never looked at anyone like this before, his ire thawed by the brilliance of your tender gaze as if he had melted. "Я бесконечно благодарен, что Бог привел тебя ко мне."

And you laughed. "You know I don't understand anything you're saying, right?"

He kissed your forehead, concealing his smile as his lips pressed against your skin. "You will one day, солнышко. You will."

любимая = darling милая = dear федя = fedya ты согреваешь мою душу, мое нежное солнышко. твоя красота вне всякого сравнения; твой разум безупречен = you warm my soul, my gentle sun. your beauty is beyond comparison; your mind is beyond flaw. я бесконечно благодарен, что бог привел тебя ко мне = i am eternally grateful that god brought you to me. солнышко = sunshine

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© 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋 2023 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[brucewaynehater101]

One idea I've been tinkering around for a few years. I'd love your thoughts. It's very similar to your Tim Rules the Universe idea....

It's a 'royalty au' where Tim was born the prince but had to leave the planet due to an evil uncle (who wants to be king) at three.

Evil uncle killed Tim's original parents, and the Drakes had the unfortunate task of raising a child. They were special operatives for royalty. They had never considered having children, but now it was their job.

(They weren't very good at it. After all, they had no concept of how much attention/care children needed).

Flash forword a few years, and Tim is exhausted and working his butt off for Bruce. He's proven the man is alive, saved him from time... all the good stuff.

Someone knocks at the Wayne Manor door.

It's the previous kings butler (servant, whatever). The people are asking for Tim back. The uncle sucks and Tim is eighteen. He can rule.

Tim is annoyed that his family now knows. He didn't want them to treat him differently.

(But he says yes and comes to the planet. He hadn't been there since he was three after all.)

The planet has had civil wars after civil war over the rightful king. It's in ruins (except the royal castles and a few spots)

Tim has his work cut out for him to get these people to like each other and him. The batfamily is WORRIED about him.

Jason insists on being Tim’s bodyguard. Tim shrugs. Why not? He wears his red helmet and loves it when the lesser royals (dukes, duchesses) make a fuss about not seeing his face. The previous leader of the royal guard doesn't understand why his king replaced him before even meeting him, but tries to accept Jason as his boss. Eventually, the other royal guards assume red is their kings favorite color and add red bits to their uniforms where they can. (Jason loves it!)

Anyway, the concept is Tim in this new world with alien politics (but I'm not sure what all they should be... Maybe he doesn't want to marry his betrothed. Stuff like that.) But I want it to be funny.

Would love to hear your thoughts!

This is a fantastic AU idea ^^

One thing to note that would be absolutely hilarious to go into: Tim's "fake" uncle.

Tim, because he thinks it's funny, put the evil uncle's name as his "fake" uncle. He then hired an actor to play a waaaay better version of him. That way, he would be lying about who his uncle is, not that he has one. The funny conundrum about this is, when Bruce discovers that the uncle is an actor, there are no records of Tim's actual uncle. This leads Bruce to the conclusion that Tim made up the entire uncle.

Fast forward several years later when the Bats find out. I bet Bruce is bashing his head in at the fact that the uncle WAS real. Tim didn't lie about that.

That's the tricky part about Tim. You don't know when he's telling the truth or not because he hides it under several layers and within itself.

The way you talked about the Drakes and Tim leads me to believe that all of them are an alien species. If you'd like to get more into that (what makes them different from humans, what is their culture like, do they speak a different language, etc.), I would be thrilled to learn more.

If the Drakes are human, them having an alien baby thrown at them as they are kicked off planet excuses why they maybe didn't know how to raise Tim.

If they are aliens, did they know English before they got to earth? The culture shock (and maybe different requirements/guidelines for human parenting) could have just confused the hell out of them.

I hope Tim, even from the distant Drakes, was raised in his native culture (or at least got some connections to it throughout his childhood). There's definitely some angst that can be explored there (including references to the stars).

If Jason went with Tim, I bet some of the Outlaws did as well. Kori would probably give Tim great advice on being alien royalty (and all that mess).

Hmm... perhaps the Drakes became rich and integrated into Gotham high society to do a weird form of prince training? They obviously didn't have the resources available that they should have had, so they made do.

Perhaps part of the reason the Drakes were archeologists was to grab the things previous alien ancestors left behind when they visited Earth. It's a way they can bring Tim a piece of his home world.

Questions: If Tim left at three, he might not remember that he's a prince. Do the Drakes keep reminding him (maybe some angst about the emotional separation due to them technically serving him [which can be a Bruce and Tim parallel])? Does Tim remember his bio parents? Does he consider Jack/Janet to be his parents, or does he consider himself an orphan until Bruce adopts him?

Now, for court humor: Customs, traditions, rituals, and customer service.

Tim is trying to put a planet back together and his advisors/council spring random ass rules on him.

A/C: "Overlord, sir!"

Tim: *sighs and puts his head in his hands* "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"

A/C: "My apologies, overlord, sir."

Tim: *deeper sigh* "Just continue."

A/C: "You can't send those supplies out."

Tim: "... The supplies that will save people from starving to death?"

A/C: "Yes, overlord, sir."

Tim: "And why not?"

A/C: "Grain and seeds must be sent separately and three weeks apart! You must also dance before their departure!"

Tim: "... what the fuck?"

Stuff like that where Tim or Jason (or other Bats if they are there) get informed about strange restrictions. Tim can't change too many rules (no matter how weird they are) cause he wasn't even raised on planet. This is a reason some folks don't want him to rule them (and thus his position is unstable).

More humor could come from Tim listening to his subjects and their problems. The more ridiculous it is, the better.

Little hc you may or may not want to add: I think Damian would spend the most time going over different customs/rules/histories of the planet out of the other Bats.

[lady-iizsil]

I had this piece in Krita since last year that I never finished - and decided to tackle it again all these months later. While I don't do art as much these days and I'm getting rustier than I would like, I thoroughly enjoyed tinkering with this one. A mix of an old style versus new in a way, from what my eyes can tell. I'm at least getting better at rendering faces but the rest I should practice. For now, however, I feel pretty proud. Enjoy the Murder Milf, Lucien Lachance. Finished on Krita - background picture from Oblivion itself. (I would have ripped my hair out if I had to draw cobblestone AND perspective). In the meantime I am still working on the fanfiction, slowly but surely, and I've been vibing to my Spotify playlist filled with over indulgent soft themes - I am cringe, free, and full of ibuprofen!

[markrosewater]

RE: powercreep. i find it odd that people think cards are getting too strong when many of the best cards are still those from the original set. not even just the moxen and black lotus, cards like lightning bolt have simply never been outclassed and still see play in the most powerful formats.

I asked R&D what was the most powerful card I ever designed. As a group, they agreed Tinker. That came out in Urza's Saga back in 1998, which means I designed it in 1996 or 1997. I've been designing Magic cards for twenty-nine years, and my most powerful one was designed just under thirty years ago. : )

EDIT: I don't have the full list, but we made a Top 10 of my most broken cards, and all of them were from the first five years of Magic. The overall power level of early Magic is significantly higher than today.

The one exception is creatures, as early creatures were mostly weak, but the differential between today's best creatures and early creatures is not close to the differential between today's noncreature spells and the best early noncreature spells.

[ramblesbiab]

i desperately need to be the leader of a human uprising against a world which has been largely overtaken by robots and there's one specific robot girl who's a prominent leader in the robot forces. She hates me, I hate her, and years go by as we keep fighting each other. I think we're getting closer, we have to be. We can't let those things win.

Then, finally, it comes. Our largest scale attack. We charge, all at once, on the largest base of operations for the robots, running on adrenaline and hope, desperate, desperate hope, for the future of humanity.

And they obliterate us. They obliterate me, leaving me bloody and barely alive, lying on the battlefield knowing we'd failed. Then, a figure stands over me, and as I blackout, I can feel myself being picked up.

When I wake up, something feels wrong. I'm in pain, sure, but not nearly enough for the abuse I just took, and I assume I must be dead. Then I see her. The robot girl leader, at a work table across the room. Humming a softly digital tune to herself, until I make the surface I'm on creak and she startles.

She explains that I was in critical condition. That I was going to die if I didn't have parts of me replaced, so she did it. I can't think about the disgust of being part machine now from the sheer surprise that she - helped me? My worst enemy saved my fucking life?!

Like she's reading my thoughts, she snaps at me to shut up before I can ever say anything. It's unclear what happens next. If I can leave, if the other robots know I'm here. If her goal is to torture me, so dying wasn't an option, or if there's some other strange reason she wants me alive.

I spend a few unbearably contentious nights in the workshop I woke up in, sleeping on the same table my operation took place. Feeling the machines moving inside me so unnaturally every time I close my eyes. She keeps not saying anything, only giving me glances from the side, not saying I can go but not telling me to stay, either.

One day, I move closer to her worktable. Watching the way her robotic fingers move with such grace. It's mesmerizing.

She finally speaks up to tell me it's rude to stare. But I keep watching, and she does nothing to prevent it. I swear there's a soft smirk on those grey lips of hers.

It's odd to me, how I know what she's working on. About all the devices she's always tinkering with, from all the observing I did while planning the uprising. I know so much about a robot woman I've yet to have a conversation with, at least one that wasn't yelled over the sounds of gunfire and explosions.

I can't bear the silence, nor the occasional sarcastic remarks. So I crack. "What are we?" I ask after another few days. She freezes perfectly in place, or so I think, until I notice the shake to her hand, such an oddly human response to the question. More human then most of the monsters who were willing to join my uprising.

"I'm still figuring that out," she whispers. She goes back to work. After a few minutes, she starts to hum, like I'm not here. Or - like it's okay that I'm here. I let a smile creep onto my face.

We're getting somewhere.

( if it's not obvious this is very inspired by portal 2 and also this portal 2 fanfic: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8896805/27/Of-Robots-and-Women )

[cherrydropru]

Designing my post-zombie apocalypse solo walking ttrpg

Been slowly tinkering away at a new play-while-you-walk ttrpg for a few years now and man is it hard to balance the impatience to get a game out and the desire to have a game match what's in my head.

I've been getting more comfortable with making imperfect games, but this one I really want to sync my ideas to the actual game itself. I'm so stoked with the mechanics and the ideas I've implemented to keep traditional randomizers like dice or cards out of the game. Though I've definitely had moments where I want to put everything in a table with instructions to roll dice and call it a day. But I know I'll be happy when I get the finished product out and all the mechanics tie in with taking a walk.

The game is post zombie apocalypse and you play as a survival scout who helps maneuver survivors around the world by setting up safe routes. You're looking for supplies and noting locations while trying to evade zombies, but in between those tasks you're contemplating this new world you have to navigate, reminiscing about the world you have to leave behind, observing locations and people you meet. The game is about community and leading survivors through dangerous terrain, but the actual gameplay is the quiet, careful prep work you do as scout - picking out a safe route, noting areas to avoid, and safe places to take a breath. I think I've got most of the cycle of play and mechanics together, keep getting ahead of myself trying to figure out tone before I have the bare bones stuff settled.

[mookymilksims]

ULTIMATE Realistic Family Gameplay Guide

Hello, everyone. I ran a poll on my channel for you all to decide on which realism guide you'd like to see next and Family Gameplay won. While I'm aware there are hundreds of family gameplay guides out there, and you'll probably have most of these mods already installed, what I think I can offer different are fixes to the EA code, and expansions on gameplay mechanics already included in the game, as well as a masterlist that has been extensively playtested for the last 6-7 years (still testing the newer mods though!). These mods have been run through Delphy's Dashboard, and have even caught conflicts and corrected that Delphy's couldn't catch.

We will break this guide down in simpler sections.

Children can series.

XML's, Tweaks, Tunings (Non-scripts). Special section for fixes.

Scripts and scripted objects.

This guide is also aimed at overall family play. I do not just think of new interactions for babies, toddlers, children, and teens. I also consider the parents. I've included mods for parents in different roleplay scenarios, as well as, single adults looking to create a family, so we will focus on some mods that can promote the family before the family is made.

I will also included a personal recommended list of lots you'd want to include in any world you play in for an ultimate family play experience.

Now that that's out of the way:

This can be followed alongside the youtube guide, we've got a lot of mods to get through so let's jump straight into it.

Children Can Series:

We will start with the most intricate install process. There are many children can mods. And many mods that conflict with each other. I caught all of them through Delphy's Dashboard, so you will only install the mods highlighted in this guide for the most optimal and conflict free experience. These mods are self explanatory but I'm going to explain why you want them at the end of this section.

CamKitty - Children can werewolf hunt.

kls77 - children can repair, tinker, and upgrade.

kls77 - children can time travel.

Bluegentsu - Children can use fortune cookie maker

Jonha - Children can use urinals.

Kap Children can series:

ONLY DOWNLOAD THESE MODS FOR COMPATIBILITY

can call services can check skills can cut and trans gems and ingots can do laundry can get mail can make nectar can read skillbook music can use sketchbook

OEM Children can series:

ONLY DOWNLOAD THESE MODS FOR COMPATIBILITY

can air guitar can chess can conjure apple no auto can feed cowplant (only if you have store cow plant) can hack can magic mirror can mermaid eat can microwave can neat trait clean house can photos-phonesmart can post forum can practice speech mirror can practice speech vanity dresser can solve hard problems

All of these mods enable features already in the game that children were unable to do. Each of these small mods brings back playability with children in very big ways. This also makes children much more independent so you won't always need an adult or teen around to take care of them. For example, children can now order pizza on the phone, or microwave food, instead of needing adults to always cook for them. You can roleplay more chores with children by allowing them to do laundry, this can also be roleplayed in a scenario where a parent isn't very consistent and the child has to be. This could create amazing stories for your gameplay. Without these mods, playing with children feels so much more restrictive. They feel like cute dolls you just send to school and forget about for a couple of hours. Allowing them more agency and free will for my gameplay allowed me to immerse myself more in their child years.

We are now going to focus on XML's, tweaks, and Tunings. These are all non scripts. This is also where I will include fixes. These are very lightweight mods that change what is already in the game and do not create gameplay lag.

Adoption Costs 5 k - I made adoption more expansive because I wanted to be able to feel this decision in game. Adoption isn't neccassarily free in real life. Between the paperwork, meetings, travel, and transitioning the children into your life this can obviously be very expensive. So this mod helps me roleplay this aspect of real life.

Arcade claw machine tweaks - Family fun center version. Arcades are extremely important for my family playthrough's, as it's one of the lots where I can put plenty of interactive objects for all ages. Including a little playpen for toddlers, that won't be out of place. This can also double as a traditional birthday party lot, with closed off rooms. From time to time I like to bring my families to these lots when I want them all to get out of the house together. So with this mod, it tweaks the prizes you can win from the claw machines, increasing your chances of winning a ton more stuff.

BlueGentsu

5% chance of teen mood swings - Makes the mood swings feel a lot more impactful when they happen instead of every other day. This is especially helpful for those who play on longer lifespans.

Skates - all enabled for pregnancy - does just as it says, pregnant sims should be allowed to have a little more fun.

No blowhorns noisemakers at Age ups - It's just annoying and buggy, so removing it altogether optimizes age transitions. This also makes the event seem a bit more realistic, while everyone just cheers and laughs instead.

Toddler's can turn off stereo - Combined with my NRAAS GoHere settings, which allows for inactive daycares to be possible, sometimes when a daycare staff puts your sims down to sleep, they won't turn off the stereo so you as the toddler will have to autonomously do it so they can peacefully take their nap.

Boarding school is expensive - Again, this is so the decision feels a lot more impactful in game. This can also be roleplayed as sending your child to private school when in a wealthy family, so the prices also make more sense for this.

Maid Costs 200 - As the title says maids will be slightly more expensive, this adds up everyday, and is for the purpose of this decision feeling more impactful. It didn't make sense for my poorer families to be able to afford a maid so this is a mod catered more towards upper middle class to wealthy families. I also combine maids with a butler as well, to give a more regal feel to the wealth your sims have obtained.

No Graduation - This is optional, if you use UC mod. This eliminates the graduation ceremony altogether, for those like myself who like to roleplay this event in game instead. By simply throwing a party on a fancy lot with formal attire.

Not just teens can prank call - Just made more sense to have this option available for everyone.

Student Services Booth mod unlocked - This can be used on High school lots as well. Especially when you turn on Summer Vacations, and send kids back to school the first day of Fall. Also, for roleplay Uni scouting events, so sim families can have a more immersive experience of browsing possible universities sims can be sent to.

More Festival Ticket Rewards - BG, SN, UNI version. Just like the claw machine this adds more rewards to win on festival lots. Makes working for the tickets more impactful.

No Auto tell ghost stories - This interaction has always annoyed me as it happens anywhere at any time. I like to plan activities almost like an itinerary when sending my sims to do longer events like vacations or simple camping trips in their homeworld. So specifically for camping, telling a ghost story with the family is a very fun activity to do at night before everyone goes to sleep around a campfire. It is where this interaction makes the most sense for me to use and leaves me excited to actually use it.

Studying is easier - I always thought the study rates of performance were super unbalanced. As I don't have sims study often when in Unni unless it makes sense for their character. And so this leaves an incentive to actually study during their free time outside of class as it brings more of a reward when it is done. However, the default rates of studying was too slow and easily took up all of my sims days. So I wanted to be able to study and be rewarded for that, while also having more time in my sims days to do things. So now I can study less often, throughout the week without the stress. I am including this in the family gameplay guide because your teens can actually study together in your homeworld which doesn't do anything for their school performance but does a lot of roleplaying study groups, since I have a homework mod that only takes 15 minutes to complete.

TwoFT Mama -

Auto Potty Training - does just as it says, this mostly helps townies, but for active households to do this on their own leaves you as the player feeling more immersed.

Better grades - Lowers the grade requirements making school a little easier. This is so while playing with UC it leaves teens and children more time to interact with each other outside of working on interactive objects.

Faster homework minutes - Reduces homework times to 15 minutes, saves up much more time in my child and teen sims days.

Fixes:

This is a smaller section for the non scripts, where I consider these mods to be complete fixes to existing EA gameplay that all the patch updates missed.

Auto Romance YA-Elder Propose going steady - This is a lightweight alternative to the NPC Romance script mod by YolkSims. While the mod was completely rebuilt from the ground up to be much more optimized, I went on a journey to find replacements to my current scripts folder that delivered what I was looking for. I found this mod. While this can go all the way up into Getting divorced. I stopped at going steady because with the Supreme AI mod sims can autonomously break up if they aren't on the best terms. This may also include divorcing, but so far it hasn't been too intrusive. Combined with the simler90 mod which includes attraction fixes, this makes romance a lot more fluid, performance friendly, autonomous, chaotic, but also predictable, aids in roleplaying, and is overall a great fix for townies and creating families with active households.

Read to sleep fix - A patch broke this interaction, so Danjaley fixes it. Without realizing it, you have another immersive gameplay mechanic for toddlers in the game. This interaction is very cute and I wouldn't believe it wasn't a mod, so I'm very happy this interaction was fixed.

Midlife Crisis Always - Adult life stages can be quite boring and monotonous. I play lifespans so long that when this event happens it's like a milestone for me. I think of it as a mini game, and try to fix everything that happens afterwards once my sim comes to their senses.

MissPat Better Playdates - Just as you may have saw in my Supreme AI playtest video, Townies will autonomously call and ask for playdates if both families have children and younger in their household. This was an EA feature, but it also got broken. This makes interacting with other families more immersive, and making children and toddlers friends much more realistic and natural in the game. For those who like to roleplay life long best friends in the game, especially.

TwoFtMama

Birthday Cakes don't catch fire - These fires are annoying and I use other mods that can cause chaotic fires randomly but REASONABLY in game.

No Curfew period - This is the only curfew remover mod that doesn't break changing clothes and dresser interactions in my game. I always thought the curfew mechanic in the game was a bit too much. Police officers wouldn't know where every single child or teen was at in the world. And sometimes, I like to take my teen and child sims out late for family events, teens on late dates, etc. With curfews enabled, police would still arrest them and bring them home, even though the parents were with them, then would have to wait for the parent to get all the way back home just to yell at them for being out late. This obviously made no sense. Combined with a punishment scripts mod, I can user direct punishments for things like this instead for a much more roleplaying and immersive experience.

Teens can take unpaid days off - This mod also made more sense and should've been included in EA features. Teens call off from work, and quite often might I add. So it helps me roleplay a more realistic teen lifestyle in game.

Now for the Final section we are going to focus on Scripts. Scripts typically do not conflict with each other but for this list some of them did. The compatibility patches and versions have been included so you don't have to worry. This is where most of you will probably already have these mods, but hopefully I introduce you to some bangers you never heard of before.

We are going to go by creator and then from A-Z for the misc scripts.

Arsil

Do Homework With - Adds the ability to do your homework with other sims the same age as your children and teens. This can make study groups more immersive, as getting homework done together will actually improve school performance the next day, but can be doubled with the UNI study together interaction the roleplay a longer study session period. These can be done in the home or the Library, which allows me to get more usage out of my Library lots and make a Kid/Teen section which is always fun.

Toddler Extra Activities - Adds a bunch of cute new interactions that toddlers can do like playing in puddles, mud, sand, eating snow, dancing, and even drawing on the walls if they have crayons in their inventory.

Arsil Futons - This is for more eastern themed family plays, but you can alternatively use these if you have a poor sim in the big city who can't even afford a bed. I typically transmogrify deco beds on the floor into this script object in game, you get a lot of creative and really fun gameplay out of this. But I wanted to toss this in here for my eastern simmers, if you don't already know about this, or you'd like to play an Asian household and make your gameplay a little more realistic. I'm definitely excited to rebuild my Korean themed Uni world I had before with these beds!

Arsil Napping Mats - These work exactly like the futons except for toddlers. It's honestly so cute. Outside of the crib and Olomaya's toddler beds, this is just another super cute way for Toddler's to fall asleep. The crib always seemed way too overbearing, and for those who roleplay toddlers aging but not yet into children, these other various options would serve you a lot better. Now for these mats specifically, I typically like using them in my inactive Daycare lots, but from time to time I'll use them in my active household's living rooms or play room, just in case I don't always feel like bringing the Toddler to another floor to fall asleep.

Arsil Low Dinner Table - Another really awesome mod for those who want to be able to roleplay better with eastern households. I always have so much fun with these tables and chairs, I've even converted some myself. One of my favorite general things to do is set the chair up in front of a TV and direct my sims to play video games. So they will be sitting on the floor and playing video games and it always looks super cute, so much nostalgia!

Arsil Limbo Mod - For the same reason I removed the autonomous ghost telling interaction, is why I use this limbo mod. Another activity for sims to do at various different parties. It's one of my favorite little events to host during a birthday party. It's seriously so cute!

FloTheory

Pay For This - Adds a mechanic where every time you change your baby and toddler diapers and give them a bottle of milk you will be charged 5 simoleons. It's such an awesome addition because when you think about it, diapers and milk should add up in real life. However, combined with the other mods in this guide, if you change their diapers and give them a bath using the store object, or give them a bath using The Sweet Simmer's mod, you won't pay for anything then. Which makes sense, sometimes you can roleplay already having diapers in supply. As well as Olomaya's toddler snacks and meals, you would shop for groceries and make the toddler whatever you have available in your fridge, but actually feeding the child those meals won't cost 5 simoleans because you already paid for the ingredients. So this interaction fixes the lack of realism with EA's diaper and bottle interaction. I find myself using all 3 mods at random, and it's always so fun.

Wedding Inactives - Adds the ability to have two sims in a relationship that your sims are friends with, to get engaged, and you can set their wedding party as well. This can give romantic stories with townies more user control. Since we are using tuning mods to make romance more autonomous, and stopped at going steady, eventually SP will push those sims to get married, but you can not only speed things up whenever you'd like, but you can also attend their wedding in the same way they attended yours! This gives the user another way to experience going to a party instead of hosting one like LN introduced. Idk about you guys but I love also feeling like a townie/NPC sometimes, it immerses me much further into my gameplay!

Weight Gain - Adds a random percentage of weight gain for pregnant sims during and after they give birth. Women's bodies are absolutley beautiful especially after giving birth, I always hear about those mommy curves that finally come in for so many women, while you can choose to go to the gym and work this mommy weight off, I imagine myself keeping it probably for most of my playthrough's. It's just always made sense that this should happen, our bodies can change forever after giving birth and so I'd like to roleplay that kind of wholesome realism in game, too.

GameFreak

Advice interaction - Adds a new social interaction with custom moodlets when you can ask for and give advice. There are several different kinds of advice you can give, with many random prompts, and a reasonably timed moodlet that you'll get after the interaction. While this can be applied to general gameplay mods, I'm including this in the family gameplay because there are just way too many roleplay oppurtunities you can have with this one. Siblings or parents giving romantic, career, etc advice. Friends, lovers, maybe a lover asking for romantic advice on how to sweep your sim off their feet? It adds a lot more roleplaying elements that can really help you the player put a story together. I've always had a gameplay style where I generally know what I'd like to happen but I go with the gameplay and can change the plot at will, so the gameplay has to reflect many more possibilities.

Smartphone Dating - Is a smaller mod that just adds the dating app from the computer onto your phone. I personally love to roleplay like this is Tinder for my sims. I always felt the dating app should also be available on sims phones like in real life, and it gives us some things to do when out and about or bored at home!

JunJay

Everyone Clip coupons - This, again, should've been available in the game already, it can be quite fun to shop smarter, even if you aren't poor per say but money is getting kind of tight. I know large families that do pretty well still love using coupons so I've included this mod.

Online Center - Adds a brand new scripting interaction to the PC which makes so much more sense. You can shop online for groceries, books, pets, relics, bots, consignment, potions, etc. You can check weekly events, which means you can disable the newspaper and still get those benefits. Read E-sim news. And probably my favorite, there is a new Simbook (Facebook) feature! Your sim will basically scan their timeline and comment on other townies simbook's, and you'll actually get slight relationship increases with random sims you already know, and you can even meet sims you haven't met already through this feature as well.

Study Skills Online - Adds another interaction to the online center where you can study any and all skills. Instead of having to go out and buy the things you can study them for free right from your pc at home. I typically use this interaction for my teen sims to improve their basic school skills as an extra layer of work for them to do for school. Outside of studying, creating books titled their class projects and etc.

Lizcandor

Potty Training - Adds a new interaction for toddlers to play in the toilet and use it instead of always using their potty training potty.

Independence GoHere Compatible - Adds the ability for toddler's to use stairs! Always exciting! But you'll have to keep an eye on those little rascals a bit more, which is always more realistic!

Mintbeehry

Mint Makeup - Adds a new interaction for children and toddler's to play with makeup. And some very silly makeup masks that will go over the kid's face when done. I used to play with my mom's makeup all the time so it brings back memories for me, I think it's a super cute interaction for you to experience with your sims families!

Fidget Spinner - Adds an interactive fidget spinner object that can go into your sims inventory and taken out and be played with for a couple seconds. I think these are super cute for kids to win at festivals and arcade lots so I included it as it can be combined with savvier seller mod to actually shop for it on these lots.

MonocoDoll

Remove Shoes - Another really great eastern culture gameplay mechanic or just for your more cleanly families with a mud room. Either way, you'll have plenty of fun with this mod installed for realism.

Government assistance - Adds just what it states for your sims. EBT, health insurance, Child support. It's super realistic and adds so much more depth and mechanic to your gameplay. You'll actually be able to roleplay your poor families without having to get creative. Make a side chick a baby mama to a wealthy sim who cheated on his wife, etc. Tell some crazy stories, this mod will certainly help you with all of those scenarios.

Olomaya

Hang out, Children and teens - Adds an interaction where children and teens sims will sit down on the ground and talk, laugh, etc. It increases their relationships, and can be quite a large group. I used to have the all ages version, but I think seeing teens and kids sit on the floor faired out much better in my gameplay than seeing adults. Pick which ever version you'd like, though.

Toddler Bed - Adds a functional single bed for toddlers to the game! I've planned to convert many sims 4 toddlers beds using this scripted object so we have some more variety, but for now the options available for it are so adorable. It's got one bug, where you can only enter the bed from the left side I believe, but other than that it's a much needed mod for more realism, especially for those toddlers that just turn 3 and 4 in your game.

Activity Table - Adds a crafting option, and serve snack option to the activity table. The crafting increases the painting skills but uses glitter as a prop instead. For toddler's and children, so they can both play and eat snacks at the table!

Coloring Book - Adds functional coloring books that are portable!

Smoking - Fixes Cmoney's smoking mod, optimizes the scripts, fixes the animations, adds a sitting animation, moodlets work much better, adds new custom moodlets. Also adds a vape. But most excited, this adds the ability for teens to buy fake ID's for tobacco products. I also use the fake ID's to roleplay my teen sims getting into bars and clubs. As they can actually order from the bar, I like to imagine they were able to slip passed security.

Student council - Adds a really fun almost mini-game interaction to a new student council option for teens in high school. And a new interactive board. It may not be everyone's flavor but it makes highschools a little more interactive outside of UC. See also PheobeJay's cheerleading mod for another interactive mechanic for teens and YA in UNI!

The Sweet Simmer

This is where most of you probably have these mods, so let's just do a basic checklist of all the mods you do or don't have.

Animation World

Children Can care for their little siblings

Family Kiss

Biggest Little Mod for Toddlers

Children and Toddlers can follow

Toys Are More Fun

Peek-A-Boo and Hug Toddlers

Toddlers can ride rocking rider

Replaced child hug

Toddlers can pick up easter eggs

Toddlers can sit on couches and chairs

Toddler can ask for things

Toddlers can catch butterflies and pick flowers

Outdoor activities for Toddlers

Toddlers can sit on sims laps

Toddlers can learn to walk alone

More Baby Interactions

More Toddler Interactions

Functional Baby Carrier

Pick Up Toddler Fixes

More Pregnancy Interactions

So obviously all of these mods MASSIVELY Overhaul family gameplay with babies, toddlers, and children in the game. Not only does it fix EA mechanics, but it also compliments and expands existing mechanics, and then adds even more. You'll probably never go back to regular family gameplay again after these mods. You might only have a couple so consider getting all of these mods listed above!

Twinsimming

Acne Mod - Adds acne to the game, and can randomly have break outs. This suits this theme mods list as puberty can be quite strange. This also effects adults though, and adults still get acne. I mean not me really but y'all be easy.

Dirty Laundry - Again, I think cleaning and have a family just goes hand in hand. This mod adds more custom moodlets the longer you go without washing your clothes. It's how it should've been in the game, to really incentivize you to get that laundry done.

Growing Pains - Is a great addition to family play. Whenever anything significant sad or angry happens to children and teens they will go through a time in their life that will deeply affect them (almost traumatize them in a way). Divorce and breakups, etc. It makes what story you tell with those sims more impactful on their lives.

New Scholarships - Adds new scholarships to the game, I also consider UNI to be an integrated part of Family life in the Sims 3. I love going off to Uni with my sims I watched grow up since birth. This mod just adds more ways they could get in to those Universities.

Tooth Fairy - Is a cute little mod that adds a tooth losing mechanic, it feels like it always should've been there. With custom moodlets that will make you know your kid sim is growing up.

Now we are going to move onto misc Family gameplay mods, these are from various creators where I don't have more than one of their mods installed!

All Adults carry - This is a mod that allows all adults to carry children. It was originally a feature in the sims 3 with the firefighter career, but Puddingface made it possible for all adults to pick up and carry kids. This adds another roleplay element, as sometimes I like to direct my parents to carry their rowdy kids to bed if they aren't listening and staying asleep.

Clean House for Everyone - This mod just makes the ability to clean the house for everyone. Originally this mechanic was only avilable for neat sims, but I find I have neat sims without the trait, and slobby sims who eventually wake up and want to get their house together. So it's a pretty convenient mod. The sims will autonomously be directed to every dirty object in the lot and clean it all up. This is pretty useful for those larger family homes who can't afford a maid or a butler or can, and you don't want to sacrifice a trait slot just to be able to clean your house.

Cherry Toddler interactions - This is another script mod that adds some pretty fun interactions into the game that combined with all the other scripted toddler interactions makes the game an abundance of choices you can do more with toddlers. Things like talking with another toddler, exploring around, having a bottle to themselves, and even eating pet food from their bowl.

Ferris Wheel - This adds a new scripted object ferris wheel, you can actually ride it. Combined with all the other store content geared towards festival lots (roller coaster, carousel) this is another really fun object for your family's to go crazy on in game. It adds a custom moodlet once you've finished and it's super cute.

Icarus Scolding - This adds a new scripted mechanic where you can user direct punishments to your child and teen sims now. This is what I meant earlier with the removal of the curfew mod. If you still want to catch your teens sneaking out it can actually make more sense. Now you can do all sorts of things for your stories and gameplay. Kid didn't clean up their room like you asked? Send them to the wall. Not doing their homework? Ground them from all electronics. You get it.

Lyralei Journal - Not quite like the other journal mod, your sims won't actually write anything to publish like with buzz's notebook mod. But they will get custom moodlets after writing a passage. I like to roleplay this as a diary for my sims and also sometimes extra homework for other classes they take. You'll get random whimsical prompts after they finish writing and you can only imagine what triggered that response from your sims (it's random so get creative). You can also hide the journal, and a new interaction where a sim can ask what you wrote. It's very cute and certainly worth the install.

Fairy Tale Books - adds more fairytale books to the game. Classic ones from real life. They are classified as children's books so you can read them to your kids at night. Makes a more relatable childhood experience for us simmers out there!

Mingos Option b - This adds basically an abortion pill to the game. You take it after suspecting your sim of being pregnant. While you can get an abortion for the enhanced hospitals mod this mod adds a CVS like experience where you can buy the pills from the grocery stores yourself or pretending you got a prescription to terminate a pregnancy. So it makes 2 ways you can get an abortion in game. I'm aware that some more mods that will eventually do this are currently being developed for the game, so this one might not stay in my mods folder after extensively reading through those future mods if or when it includes them. But for now, I think it's a great realistic addition for your gameplay.

Nona Breastfeed Baby - Adds the ability to breastfeed the baby. That's all. It's really cute and realistic, it's an older mod so you might not have heard of it.

I know I've already included a Lyralei mod but the Randomizer mod is a big game changer that shouldn't be ignored. It adds way too much random EA prompt mechanics that actually impact your gameplay and story. I've got all the modules. Things like combatting rumors. Giving Advice. Getting Sick. Power and water outages. Work and School related triggers and many many more.

Zoeoe Buzzler Scribbling Pad Fixed - This is an essential fix and script optimization to this older and most adored scribbling pad mod. This works like typing/writing on the pc except you'll write in the journal and it's portable so you can do it from anywhere. I love having my working and school sims get the most use out of this. You can also use this to replace the writing pc interaction if you're playing in an older time period that didn't have computers.

Ok! Awesome! So we got through all the family gameplay mods! Now when you stick around to the end of the video I can showcase to you what all of these mods combined are going to look like in your game! We won't get through everything because there are simply WAY too many scenarios to show and we would be here all day. So I'm just going to show you how a general gameplay session would go instead!

And just as promised I'm going to recommend you a list of lots you're going to want to have in any world to get the most out of your family gameplay!

The EP's we can combine in this Theme are Seasons, UNI (although this will be in another world entirely so don't worry about this one too much), Generations, Pets, Island Paradise, and Late Night. This is the ultimate pack arsenal combined that gives you so many more features and interaction for your Family gameplay. You do not have to disable all of the other packs, you're simply going to focus on the content and lots given by these EP's in the world you chose to play your family in. Also consider adding all of the premium store content you don't need the full sets, just the functional objects.

Arcade lot - For family events and date nights. Friends meetups.

1 Dive bar - for singles to meet and date nights. Friends meetups.

1 Sports bar - for guys nights or date nights. Bachelor parties. Friends meetups.

1 Dance club - for singles and date nights and girls nights. Bachelorette parties. Friends meetups.

1 Gym - Consider adding a playpen to a toddler/child care section for those busy parents. Friends meetups.

1 Library - Consider adding a toddler playpen section, a child and teen section for homework, and a computer lab. Friends meetups.

1 church - This can double as your opened Masoleum RH, and a pretty place to get married. Friends meetups.

1 functional Movie Theater - Does not need the Theater RH rug. Use the premium store content. For family events and date nights. Friends meetups.

1 Consignment store - With savvier seller objects to buy cc deco and furniture. I use this to roleplay changing around my bedrooms for when my sims age up. I don't put everything I have in the store obviously, but I do buy some things to include in the build.

1 Bistro - Open up the RH and use Ani's Business as Unusual set. For singles, family events, and date nights. Friends meetups.

1 Diner - Same as above, more afforable and relaxed eaterie. You don't have to open up every RH, but you should focus on the ones your active family will be working in and going to school. So for schools, that would be 1 elementary and 1 high school.

1 outdoor picnic/camping lot - For in home vacations, family events, and date nights. Friends meetups.

1-4 festival lot - Could be broken up into several throughout your town, one for each season. This makes these lots more optimized and you can decorate more cc into these seasonal themed lots without worrying about overloading the lot and crashing during season transitions. For family events, singles, date nights. Friends meetups.

1 Pool lot - For everyone, and parties.

1 Fancy banquet lot - Can double as an exclusive lounge, for wealthy family events and fancy parties, can also add casino objects.

1 big park - with a playground.

1 small park - with another playground and cat and dog park.

1 pet store - using store content.

1 pet clinic - Using ATS3 pet clinic set, Pet Vet career, and a second hospital RH combined with Pet diseases mod to make the lot functional, and also adding UC.

1 art gallery - consider adding an easel room for art class, a mini winery (for paint and sip date nights), and a savvier seller gift shop, to gift to your date or friends or for yourself.

1 Fishing spot, with rentable IP boats - For those fishing trips you'll take with your kids and make memories. You can also add this lot to your vacation worlds instead.

1 CoffeeHouse or Java Hut - For singles, Friends, dates during the day. Teens and parents.

1 Laundromat - For families without the laundry objects in their home.

1 Opened up Spa - With store and script objects combined for a more luxorious experience and extra custom moodlets.