#More furries in space please

[goombasa]

Star Fox and the Wish for Potential

I really wish that we got more Star Fox games.

Don't get me wrong, Nintendo's done some of their other franchises much dirtier than Star Fox, with the absolute astounding gaps between entries in franchises like Metroid or F-Zero have proven, and yet Star Fox is probably the series that bothers me the most, because most of the time, it doesn't feel like Nintendo particularly cares about the potential of its world or its characters or the stories that could be told with a group of mercenaries that wander the solar system… most of the time, Star Fox as a series for them is a tech demo series for them.

Don't get me wrong, there's something to be said for that. The original Star Fox was essentially the perfect example of how far you could push the Super Nintendo and still have a viable, playable game with its use of polygons, Star Fox 64 pushed the series further with its branching path system and showed off just how much rumble could enhance the experience of a game, Star Fox Command is basically one of the examples I think of when I think of a game that uses a system's central gimmick to its absolute extreme since basically the ENTIRE game is stylus driven, and of course, poor Star Fox Zero was the last bastion of trying, desperately, to show folks that the Wii U was cool.

There is something to be said for having a particular series that you like to use to show off the potential of your hardware or control schemes (which makes it all the stranger that Star Fox missed out on the Wii, when its control scheme would probably have worked really well with a rail shooter), but it's often to the detriment of everything else. If there isn't a gimmick or new hardware or new tech to pair it with, it often feels like the series just doesn't matter to Nintendo that much, and the narrative and characters feel like they suffer for it. I'm not saying that Star Fox's story is some sort of underrated masterpiece, but I'm the sort of person who just gets real annoyed when potential goes unexplored.

There is so much that could be done with the world of Star Fox with the premise that it has, and yet most of the time, it feels like Nintendo's only ever interested in telling the same story. Both Star Fox 64 and Zero are retellings of the original game's story, and while the other games do follow an actual flowing story, that was sort of thrown out the door with Command and it's multiple endings, all of which are pretty unsatisfying, and pretty much all of them were confirmed noncanon anyway, which led to Nintendo just rebooting the whole thing.

Well, I say Nintendo, but all things considered, Nintendo's never really developed any of the Star Fox games in-house. They have a lot of say in what does and doesn't get into the game, obviously, but the main developers for the games are almost always third party developers, though usually ones that are pretty close to Nintendo. We've had Argonaut Software, Rare, Namco, Q-Games, and Platinum Games. The only one that had no other studios involved, or at least none that are listed, is 64, which was only done by Nintendo EAD. This is one of those series that Nintendo seems to hand out to other developers rather than work on in house because I don't think a lot of their top devs have a lot of interest in the series. And it's just frustrating, as the game jumping about from developer to developer doesn't help its consistency much, which leads to a lot of divisive opinions on each game. Most of them (Rare exclused, as they basically slapped Starfox on top of an original IP they were working on at the time) really only know Star Fox as a rail shooter series and Nintendo probably doesn't give them a wide breath to experiment beyond that.

But imagine if we had a game that took more advantage of the fact that our main characters were mercenaries. There doesn't have to be a huge, grand-scale problem for them to solve. We've seen that so much already in the series, most of it related to Venom and the sort of monsters that spawn from there. A game where you fly around, explore the lylat system, still have shooting sections, but are attempting to take on jobs for various groups, assisting folks who are still recovering from all the combat that was happening before, there's a lot of potential there, and you wouldn't even have to abandon the rail-shooting or dog-fighting gameplay that has been the pillar of the series.

At the same time, I'm one of those freaks who thinks it's good to see a series step away from its comfort zone now and then. I actually enjoyed the ideas behind the on-foot missions in Star Fox Assault, and actually really liked the idea of a Star Fox Musou game that was rumored to be a pitch after Hyrule Warriors blew up. What I want is to see something that pushes the boundaries of the series and tries something familiar yet unique, like how Nintendo reinvents Mario just a little bit with each Entry, or how Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom have given Zelda a bit of a fresh identity, or how Dread has completely revitalized Metroid as a series (though again, the primary developer on that game was MercurySteam, with assistance from Nintendo EPD). I would love to see that level of passion devoted to a Star Fox game in the future, one that doesn't have to be reliant on a gimmick or new tech in order to justify is existence. I just want a Star Fox game that helps define what Star Fox is, or what it can be, so many years after the original. I want a game that doesn't retread well trodden ground with its story and breaks away from series tradition, just a little bit, maybe let the characters breathe just a bit more, or at least give a bit more justification to your wingmen.

This post has been a lot more rambly than I meant it to be, but I generally have a hard time organizing my thoughts when I start getting onto a topic like this. A lot of what I write is stream of consciousness and I just hope that something legible pops out, so I apologize if I've failed here, it just bums me out that the latest Star Fox game was Zero, which would have been a pretty mediocre game even without the tacked on gyro controls, which came out ten years after the last fully original Star Fox game, Command, which in and of itself had tons of issues, not least of which being its branching storyline gimmick, and now it just feels like we're not going to see another new one any time soon, and that makes me quite sad.

Then again, I could be surprised when whatever Nintendo's new system is going to be. I mean, we got a brand new F-Zero game late last year in F-Zero 99 after almost twenty years of nothing for that series, so anything is possible. I just worry that it will continue to repeat the pattern and try once against o start fresh with the same story we've had three times now, when what the series needs it some sort of push in a fresher direction. Trying to play it safe with a basic rail shooter wouldn't be the best idea with this series at this point.

My fingers are crossed, and I'm absolutely hoping for something unexpected for the series in the future. Preferably sooner than later, but hey, I'm decently patient. Until then, there's always musing with other fans on what could be.

[coffeeisfortheresponsible]

remake of that one post that i cannot find so some please link it in the comments!!

[not-the-cheese]

one sentence summaries of every TMA episode

(1-60 i'll add more soon)

part 2 up!

world's most effective anti-smoking PSA

man DOES NOT open coffin. everyone claps.

woman is judgemental towards neighbor even though she has hobbies that are just as weird.

book makes multiple people fall off chair.

man finds bag of teeth and decides he absolutely needs to fuck around and find out.

worm sti.

there was a SCARY MAN in the WAR.

fuck this tree

well at least ted bundy was a great father :)

i'm like 55% sure vampires are real and i'm willing to take those odds

bitches be dying. you're next.

we kill this man because he made the soda too warm.

sorry ur husband's dead. maybe get some help.

Unbox with me ! (GONE WRONG)

hah i'm safe from this one because i have decided to Never Go Into a Cave Ever.

man is so annoying about this spider that even his cat can't be bothered

man's bully finds a book about a Bone Turner and subsequently begins turning people's bones.

this guy sucks at DIY home improvement

aw maybe this priest didn't do anything THAT bad!

oh fuck nevermind

THE SKY ATE MY SON.

the worms stole my identity. i haven't left the house in days.

man beats german children at game of bravery and wins a coin (he later loses this coin)

my ex boyfriend gets casted in the muppets and dies

sorry mom, i've abandoned jesus for a new religion : jesus in the dark.

tall squiggly and HANDsome

old man arm wrestles demon through door knob

the buzzfeed unsolved guys finally catch a ghost but it's their sound tech

immortality but at what cost

working at the big meat factory was so traumatizing it made me vegetarian

i go to america and get almost killed by a furry

well if you love that wasp nest so much why don't you MARRY it (and then she did)

antisocial boat crew bands together to exclude one guy from a midnight party. he dies from the rejection.

bone apple teeth

remember when that norwegian guy threw a tantrum about us not digging a hole? turns out we were right to not dig that hole.

babe come over my parents have taken ill and passed away

man fucks around and it costs him everything

HOMOPHOBIC CHINESE VASE

oh god oh fuck the worms are here

thank you for participating in worms! please rate your wormsperience from 1 to 10.

the wormsperience has left me deeply scarred. i'm going to get lost in a tunnel about it.

🎸music makes me loose control🎸

spooky stories to tell at the next police slumber party

child threatens to run away and join the circus one too many times, and now the circus has come to cash in.

these mosquitoes are mad sus

man frequents local barnes and noble and then dies(?) after liking a book too much.

realtor gets eaten by the backrooms twice. it's a terrible shame.

both me and this weird goth dude have an unsatisfying italy vacation

guy who turns people's bones gets a new job where he continues to turn people's bones.

man who should never be allowed to build prisons builds a prison.

Something Big Is In The Water.

what if u heard me about 15 feet behind you fumbling around and calling out ur name 😳 (and we were both prison guards)

i'm going to be honest i didn't retain anything from this episode except that this guy has the silliest old man voice ever

everybody hates the tax man, including these creepy taxidermy animals

hmmgh. ant house.

so turns out being only 55% sure that vampires are real in my career as a vampire hunter has had some consequences.

the only thing keeping you company in space is your abandonment issues

🎶 the snack that smiles back 🎶 (my husband!)

maybe the real treasure was the house siblings we encased in spider web along the way.

your dead brother wrote books about ancient myths and WHAT

Part 2

[faeriekit]

43rd Annual Gotham Academy Bake Sale

dp x dc | FosterDad!Frostbite

❄ Now available to own on video and ao3 ❄

I promised @tourettesdog a snippet of More Yetis™ ages ago and I finally finished lol

❄*❄*❄

Bruce looked up.

And up. 

...And up. 

The— parent?— glanced down at him with a fanged smile. Not— not meanly. Just fanged. As in, he had fangs. 

And thick, puffy fur. And glacial blue horns. And a soft, muzzle-esqe face, and an equally blue prosthetic arm, with what looked like his original bone structure underneath it. 

What a sight at the PTA bake sale. Bruce huffed lightly.

(Remarkably, the puff of air came out as cold steam. Huh.)

“Good afternoon,” the parent, presumably, greeted him, his voice a low rumble. “I’ve been told that the purpose of this event is to raise money for the school, so there are baked good available for purchase. Please tell me if you are interested in any of the selection.” 

Bruce watched the giant, furry parent carefully set out a crocheted blanket to serve as a tablecloth on the provided folding table, dotted the space with carefully organize tupperwares and displayed, and sanitized his— claws— before setting out little treats on round wooden trays. A stack of napkins completed the setup. 

It was a good first-time setup. Downright exotic, even, considering the setting of Gotham Academy. It had a homey, home-grown feeling that was entirely anathema to the cultivated air of the usual attending crowd. 

It was nice, though. Bruce took a picture of the table for his public instagram. 

Usually Bruce and Alfred would man a table for the younger kids, but Damian was still attending the lower school, and Duke had been opted out of participating due to…prior circumstances…which left Bruce to be an attendee rather than a fundraiser. It was kind of nice. He got to try new foods. Check things out. Meet a giant yeti. 

“They look good,” Bruce complimented, because they did. They didn’t exactly look vegan, so Damian couldn’t try one, but they did look good. “What’s this one? On the bun?” 

The giant…whatever he was daintily got himself into a folding chair. From his side-satchel came a paperback copy of Elin Hilderbrand’s Summer of ‘69. “Salmon patties on potato buns. My charge assures me that they’re perfectly edible, although we did have to shop around for a suitable vehicle with which they could be eaten.”

Alright, so the guardian had missed the boat on exactly what bake sales were supposed to consist of. So what? The food sounded good, smelled good— and for four dollars, that was a good deal. 

“Keep the change.”

They tasted good, too. “Hey," Bruce exclaimed, "This is pretty grand!”

The yeti’s eyes crinkled around the edges. The muzzle couldn’t exactly replicate a human smile, but Bruce had the distinct impression that this was the equivalent expression. “Thank you. Daniel told me that it was overkill to catch my own fish for the raising of funds, but I always prefer the taste of a fresh catch.” 

With those fangs, Bruce would believe it. He took another bite of what was probably a salmon burger. “Nothing beats fresh-from-the-sea. When I lived in London for a few months, I was very spoiled by the seafood selection.” 

The yeti’s ears swiveled upright in interest. “Oh? I will say, living in Gotham, there is a lack of interesting seafood. The shellfish grows to be as large as my arm in my home territory.” 

Well, that didn’t lower the location down to anywhere in particular. The arctic? The deep ocean? Some vast, unknown world? “Sure sounds more interesting, that’s for sure. Hey, I haven’t seen you around here before. Are you new to the school?” 

The being kindly answered his nosy-enough question. “I have taken temporary leave of my people to care for my charge. As he is mostly human, his elder sister and I came to the decision that the human plane was a better locale for him to grow up in. Gotham city simply has more volatile energy floating around.” 

Bruce’s eyebrows rose up over the rims of his sunglasses. Gotham was their first choice to raise a child in? A not-completely-human child to boot? “You sure about that?” he asked, just to be clear. “It’s not so safe here. We’ve got a guy who blows up buildings for fun. I think we’ve had the most toxic gas leaks…ever, really. I love the place, I grew up here, but man do we have problems!” 

“Hm,” the yeti hummed. “We were concerned about that. Daniel spent the first few nights beating up pickpockets, however, so I foresee that he will likely enjoy the challenge.”

As someone who beats up pickpockets, Bruce had no reliable say on the matter. He took another bite of his salmon patty. He made a note of the issue nevertheless. If there was going to be a new, half-human vigilante in his home territory, that ought to be something he stays abreast of.

“Hey! B! Over here!”

Bruce spotted Duke’s hand a head above the crowd. He waved back; his newest foster edged through the crowd of wealthy parents and their nepo-baby children to make his way over, a cupcake in his hand. “Duke! Find anything good?”

“Yeah!” Duke confirmed cheerfully, raising the cupcake in his hand. He continued his approach. “They had tamarind ones at the stand Mrs. Cheng is running! I got you one just in case you wanted to try it. They were almost out, and—“

Duke paused beside Bruce. And looked up.

And up.

...And up.

Bruce didn’t bother to hide his smile. “I’m getting to know some of the other parents here. Hey, what’re your thoughts on salmon?”

“It’s,” Duke started, thoroughly distracted by the parent’s height, “Good. Um. Hi?”

The gigantic being (he must be, what, nine feet? And balancing on that horrid folding chair the PTA shoves out every year?) roved a yellow eye down to his foster son.

“It’s very nice to meet you, young one,” the parent rumbled, cheery as anything. “My name is Frostbite. You may know my charge, Daniel. He is in his junior year.”

“Danny? Danny Fenton?”

Bruce finished off his burger with a bite. Well, there was curious tone. “Do you know him, Duke?” he asked. The tone wasn’t quite warning, but the edge was to be found in his phrasing.

Duke winced. “Yeah, we…uh. We might have gotten into a fight on his first day. And his second week. …And…last week.”

Bruce. Blinked.

“…And maybe a few hours ago. But to be fair, he has a really punchable face—“

This sounded more like Dick and Jason in their first weeks at Gotham Academy rather than Duke, who was generally better-mannered than most of his brood. (Bruce tended to chalk it up to the effect of being raised largely by loving, attentive parents.)

“But. Um.” Duke shuffled a little closer to Bruce, and a little farther away from the tallest parent to ever grace the pristine lawn of Gotham Academy. “He’s…you know. He’s fine. Usually.”

Thank goodness Alfred was across the way with Damian. He would have disapproved highly of the both of them for this slip.

Still, the gigantic creature only…huffed. Bruce would dare call it a chuckle, even. He popped a barely punctured bookmark into his novel, and gently set it to the side. “My apologies, young one; fighting is a favored form of socialization in our culture. His interest in you is likely genuinely meant, if…rough. Tell myself or his sibling if it becomes unbearable, and he’ll calm down.”

Duke’s lips twisted. “No, it’s not— It’s. Fine? I guess? We like blow off steam and stuff. When I sprained my wrist, he just punched my other arm and bought me ice cream.”

Bruce wanted to judge this kid and whatever parenting style this yeti was putting this kid through. He wanted to pass judgement so badly. But this also sounded exactly like something one of his own kids would do with someone they were friends with.

So.

So he bought a second salmon burger, took an offered bite of Duke’s tamarind cupcake (very generous), and tried to remember everything he could about his brief foray into romance novels. “Say, have you ever read any John Grisham? It’s not quite the same genre, but I’m more of a fan of thrillers myself…”

Honestly, the surreal part was that nothing untoward happened for the entire bake sale. Bruce would happily do this again next year.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 25

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: 😁.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The queen snores in her bed. At last, peaceful. You leave her as she is, piled in bedclothes amid the glow of the low-burning fire. You emerge into the corridor, silent, and the door drags closed with a scrape at your cautious pull. The shadow by the pillar shifts.  

You glance over at the guard. Gilles has been relieved of his watch and another man stands in his place. You think you recognise him. He must’ve been one of those which helped the queen seize your cart. The road feels so very long ago and yet there is still much ahead of you. 

“Hold,” the guard warns and gives a whistle, the noise echoing along the high ceilings.  

There’s scuffling further down and you turn to face another silhouette, this one slender and lithe like a wraith. Ezme steps into the light of a lamp and stare at you placidly. She beckons with a hand. 

“Come, maid, I will show you your quarters,” she says. 

You bow your head and go to her. It is unusual you wouldn’t be left to find your way to the servants wing yourself, likely near the kitchens, and yet you are much too weary to question any of it. She turns and you walk at her side. The promise of sleep, even if only a little, has you aching to recline. 

The corridors are quiet but for the soft pad of your footsteps. Fewer lamps light the way than in the daytime and the path grows black. You follow the stirring of the women next to you as she carries on. She touches your arm to stop you, nudging you to the right. You wait and listen as she lifts a latch, the metallic noise cutting through the din, and hinges creak loudly. 

She guides you into the dark chamber by your wrist. It is lit only by moonlight and a brazier burning at the foot of a broad bed. The door clanks shut and you shiver. Ezme moves around you, her skirts brushing your own, and she goes to the low mattress. You squint, these are not servants’ rooms. The bed frame, the brazier, the space swathed in darkness; more often, bodies crowded over bags of hay or on the scant tatters of blankets. 

“You will sleep here,” she says softly, “with me. You will be safe.” 

“Safe? From what?” You croak and rub your cheeks as they burn with fatigue. 

“Need you ask,” she replies knowingly, “it is much too late for those questions. Come, lay, the morning will be upon us swiftly.” 

You don’t argue. She is right. You go to bed and remove your apron and cap. You fold them and put them to the foot of the mattress. She moves a dark square over the blankets towards you. You pause and reach to touch the obscured shape as the dim light offers only vague outline. It’s soft, furry. You feel around and find the familiar rough patch sewn into the lining. It’s the king’s cloak. 

“You will want to keep that close,” she says, “the soldier made certain to leave it for you.” 

“Bryce?” You wonder aloud, “is he your friend?” 

“He is a familiar face,” she shrugs and pulls her dress over her head. “The Lord of the Castle likes him well enough.” 

You shift the cloak over your apron and strip off your outer layer, standing only in your shift. You mirror the maid across from you and slip beneath the thick blankets. A sigh escapes you as your muscles finally release the tension of the day. She is still on her back as you lay upon your side, staring at the low flicker of the brazier against the wall. 

Curiosity nips at your exhaustion. How does a servant come upon a room like this? Is it simply at your expense? For whatever reason Bryce has bid her to keep you close. Certainly, the old soldier is overly cautious. 

Your eyes close before you can think very much on the unexpected resting spot. The day has been turbulent and full of many surprises. You only dread those that await you on the morrow. 

⚔️

Ezme wakes you from a heavy slumber. You both dress in the morning hue, rinsing from a basin before you face another day. You leave the cloak on the assurance it will be waiting for you. A thought glimmers of what the king might think should it go missing. Would he blame you? 

You emerge and part from your nocturnal companion. You procede to the queen’s chambers to find them open and the corridor a titter. A pair of servants, themselves dozy, carry one of her chests through as her shrill cry careens through. You approach as the steadfast guard with the fiery hair watches you with narrow eyes.  

You peer within and find the Queen Jazlene digging through the contents, tossing fabrics without a care, in a desperate search. You are stunned to find her awake with the sunrise but not disheartened. It might be a good omen. 

"Where is it?" She throws her hands up and scowls as her eyes skim around, "you," she points in your direction, "where is my blue dress? The one with the silver lace? It must be here!" 

"Your highness, perhaps another chest," you step inside. 

"You did remember to pack it, didn't you?" She accuses as she stands, "I did bid it." 

"Yes, your highness," you affirm, though it was Merinda who would've taken the order. "Shall I go look in the luggage?" 

"Oh, yes, you shall," she struts toward you, "I will not be dressed as some northern wench for the banquet." 

Banquet? You withhold your curiosity and bow your head. You have a task and it is always better to tend to it without question. 

You spin and hurry from the room. You nearly collide with another servant, a tray in their hands. Another chore you needn't attend. You press on and find your way through the kitchens to the rear of the castle.  

The luggage remains mostly in the stables which entails a venture into the wintry without. You mourn the cloak upon the foot of the bed but it would be worse to flaunt the king's patch so heedlessly. You tuck your hands into your sleeves and put your chin down before you push through, the door resisting your strength as the wind blows against it. 

You stagger through and the heavy wood slams just as quickly as you clear its breadth. The gales are strong but the snow has relented. You see dark bodies speckled amid the white as powder dusts up in heaps. The servants work to clear away the thick piles and make pathways around the castle's yard. 

You cross to the stables and delve into the stink of horses and hay. The beast nicker and neigh as you pass as others doze without notice. You find the luggage, chests still upon carts as others litter the unswept floor. If you find the dress, it might just reek of horse. 

You recognise the crest of Debray upon a chest and the painted sides of a few others. You unstrap several lids and raise them, the cold nipping but sweat rising nonetheless. The longer you sift through the contents, the number your hands and fingers become, the clumsier you are. 

A patch of blue, so pale and shiny it's almost white, gleams from beneath the heaps of cloth. You yank upon it, bringing out several other gowns with the effort, and claim victory. You do not neglect to suss out a pair of slippers and a hair net you think might go with it. You set it aside and pack away the mess you've made, breathless from the expense. 

You hug your lot and curl around the next row of horses, searching out Daisy as she leans her head against Chestnut's dark neck. Their eyes widen at your approach and they huff almost in time. You pat their noses before you apologise that you must leave them. 

Once more, the violent gusts greet you in the open, sending a spiral of snow around you and dusting you with the chill. Your teeth chatter as the wind pushes you from behind and fill your skirts. You can hardly aim your steps as you end up against the castle wall, sidling along until you're at the door. 

Within, the cold follows and lingers in your bones. You flit through the kitchens, pots steam as the large ovens blaze and bodies cluster and clash. You barely avoid a collision as you pass into the corridor. As you step around one figure, another appears. 

“Aye, there the mouse is,” Bryce greets as he folds a leaf around his finger, readying it to pop in his mouth, “I see she’s got you at work already.” 

“Sir,” you stop before the soldier, “how was your night?” 

“Eh, dark,” he shrugs, “and you? The other maid saw to ya?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Very good. If ye can, stay close to that one at the feast,” he girds, “she’s wise. She knows well how to bide the shadows.” 

You nod and hug the fabric, another shiver flowing through you. He tilts his head as he continues to play with the leaf between his fingers. 

“Don’t tell me you were outside without a cloak,” he accuses, “where’s yours, then?” 

“Sir, it was only for a moment--” 

“This cold does not soften for summer maids,” he tuts and shakes his head, “you will make yerself sick and who should have to deal with it, hm? Who should have to hear the king rant of it?” 

“Apologies, I was only in a rush,” you pout. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he steps closer and touches the dress in your arms, “in a rush for flimsy gown. These halls are too cold for satin.” 

“The queen bids it--” 

“Oh, I would expect,” he chortles. 

You purse your lips, slanting them one way then the next, as you recall your task. You watch him pinch the silk before he rescinds his reach. He puts the leaf in his mouth and chews. 

“You said feast and the queen said banquet? Is that this evening?” You wonder. 

“Certainly, is,” he sucks on the sweet leaves, “Lord Vesemir would celebrate our departure most fervently but as any good winter lord, he would not send his guests out in the cold without full bellies.” 

“Oh,” you utter thoughtfully. 

“And I suppose, it will appease the queen,” he adds, “for a time before she is once more miserable in the wildlands.” 

“And we are to leave on the morrow?” 

“Aye, by the nightfall,” he crosses his arms. “They must clear the pass and ready the horses and carts. It will be a labour but best we move on.” 

“I believe so too, sir,” you teethe your lip. 

“Aye, you are prudent, as ever,” he lowers his gaze to the floor, “mouse.” 

You shift on your soles and exhale solemnly, “I must...” 

“Yes, very well, go on to your queen,” he steps aside, “I must find our king. I suspect he might be hounding the lord of this castle, if not sparring with him.” 

There is a reluctance between you as you carry on your way; Bryce to one wing and you to the other, as if to mark the divide of king and queen. You come up the stairs and hurry along, the queen’s doors still ajar. Her voice carries still and servant scuttles out as a plate is hurled after them, crashing onto the floor as it narrowly avoids their foot. 

You slow and cautiously peek into the room. The queen shakes her head and pinches a morsel of brown meat on her plate, eyeing it with scrutiny. For a moment, her face twists, then she forces herself to shove it in her mouth. She chews as a battle rages across her features. 

Her gaze is drawn by your movement and she gulps down her mouthful. She stands, nearly overturning the stool upon which the tray rests. She brings her hands up as she storms over to snatch your armful. You back away as she lets the dress unfurl and you bend to gather up the slippers and hairnet as they fall. 

“Ah, wonderful, a proper attire for my first proper appearance as queen,” she beams and dances around with the dress, “oh, my hair, my hair. You must braid it for me.” 

She lays the gown on the bed and gives it a longing touch before she retreats. She clammers to the plain wooden table upon which she’s had a looking glass propped up. She leans forward as you stand behind her. Her hair remains in the braids she’s worn for some time, looking wilted and ratty from neglect. 

“Yes, your highness.” 

“I suppose the king feels horrid for his display yesterday,” she preens at herself. “He must realise he cannot keep a lady like me cooped up.” 

You think to mention that it is more send-off than anything. That is on Lord Vesemir’s whim, rather than King Geralt’s. At least that’s how you have it. Yet, you know well not to argue. Let Jazlene believe as she well and the world is always a bit more pleasant. 

You set to undoing her hair, gently as you notice how dry it is, whether from the cold or the air. She snaps her fingers and demands another servant bring her the tray off food. She picks at it as you unwind her hair and let it free. 

She looks at herself one way then the other. She smiles and wipes her mouth with her sleeve.  

“I am still pretty, aren’t I?” She asks, “I will be after the child comes, won’t I?” 

You swallow and nod, “yes, your highness.” 

“Gilles, Gilles,” she chimes and waves a hand, “come, come,” she turns in her seat and you pull away from her, not wanting to tug on her locks. “Tell me, how pretty am I?” 

The man steps into the doorway and clears his throat. He looks as sheepish as you’ve ever seen. You glance back at Jazlene as she poses and bats her lashes. 

“You are beautiful, my queen, as the summer sunsets,” he avows. 

There’s a click in your head, a wriggle in your chest, and a churning in your stomach. No. No, it can’t be. She wouldn’t betray her marriage. 

Yet you thought the very same of her husband. That’s different. The king rules all, even the queen. And that she so garishly flaunts her fleeting affections. But how can you judge, when your own folly looms over you like a cloud? 

You think of the king’s story; Cerrill and Wynifred and their forbidden romance. It tints in a different effect now, it aligns more evenly, for you do not see this ending well for either queen or guard should they stray. Just as you don’t see yourself faring any better. 

[icypenguin]

ೃ࿔. me too, please! 🐾*:･

hiii hihi guess i’m back again and it tidnd’t took my months :p anywayy this one was actually a request from my wattpad! it’s been months and i finally answered huhuu T-T i’m really sorry for those who requested many things already but haven’t got it answered.. i promise i’ll make it up :D!

cw: pet names (darling, love, puppy), scratching, rubbing, petting

gorou

it was a pleasant surprise to find your boyfriend coming home with a small, white, fluffy, curling and asleep kitten on his shoulder. though. the view seems to cheer you up as a small chuckle escaped your lips when the edge of your lips curled up.

“aww, ‘rou, i didn’t think you’d replace me..” you faked a disappointed tone, to tease around with your boyfriend who tends to get worried at the smallest thing.

“wha- that- no! t-that’s not what i-“ his face turned into a bit of a shock as well as his ears drooping. he looked at the sleeping cat balancing on his shoulder as inly made a straight line on his mouth.

the nervousness and victory of teasing your boyfriend seems to be a succeed when a laughter came erupting from your mouth. “you know i was just jokinggg, you’re always loyal to me, and i trust you”

“hmph, ofcouse! leaving you would be my last choice anyway..” he put his hands on his hips and shot a confident look. you came close to him and raised your hand up as if the first step of an action. you raised it close to him and he knew what you were going to do: pet him. and so, he leaned over to your hand just for it to slip past and instead pet the sleeping baby cat right besides his face.

“oh-“ noticing the misunderstanding, the tips of his ears went red as well as his cheek. meanwhile you, also noticing this demeanor, couldn’t help but to break a laughter quietly, trying not to disturb the sleeping kitten.

“awwh sorry, ‘rou. didn’t think my puppy would want to get an ear rub too” you teased before finally placing your hand on his head, especially rubbing the space close to his ears.

he tried his best not to purr; not to embarrass his self more. though, he couldn’t help but to give up in your touch and to snuggle with it.

“guess you’re no different to a cat, hm..” you smiled softly, seeing your boyfriend finally winding up from the rough day with full training sessions.

“h-heyy! stop that right now.. for the last time, i’m not your pet!” he huffed in embarrassment and tried to deny how good it is to have your ears scratched. unfortunately for him, his body language said otherwise.

and so, seems like you have 2 furry babies to take care of.

tighnari

he’s been inside his research room for quite a long time, so you decided to give him some Candied Ajilenakh Nut for a quick but high quality break. you know that it’s been a pretty tiring day for him, he discovered a new species of an animal and thought that i’d be nice to study plus take care of it at the same time. and you know he’s been doing a good work; too good for his body.

you knocked to signal him, “darling, i brought you something!”.

without a second later, he opened the door with a happy but tired expression plastered on his face.

“ah, love. didn’t think you’d come by..” he said hazily as he guided you inside.

“darling, you know it’s my job to take care of you, especially when you’ve been working on this.. research thing” you pulled the candied ajilenakh nuts out and served some for him.

“take some rest, honey, you’re being too tired” you shot him a worried look as your eyes got softer, trying to plead him into taking atleast a break.

“ah- you didn’t have to, love… but thankyou, you really do know what i needed” he shot you a grateful smile before munching on those candied ajilenakh nuts and looking towards the incubator which held the enigma animal securely.

“my little pet here.. it’s doing good.” he guided you to follow him to show you what he’s been taking care of for days. just by looking at it, you could already tell that it’s fur was as fluffy and soft as clouds and the patterns made it more extraordinary.

“ah-! what a cutie!” you squealed lightly in awe. he transferred the animal in his palms carefully and brought it close to him, as if cuddling it.

“it’s supposedly 1 month old..” he looked at it with care and love.

“it looks healthy and beautiful, i’m so proud of you.. you’ve been taking good care of it” your tone was loving and caring. you raised your hand in a motion as if to pet something, and tighnari leaned into your hand before you pet the animal. noticing the object that you were looking towards to, he blushed out of embarrassment and acted like nothing happened. though, clearly you already noticed.

“awwh, i suppose my baby also needs some treatment, hm?” you chuckled softly before petting his head followed by a small and comforting scratch.

“w-well i-“ he sighed before continuing, “okay.. maybe i do need your affection” he gave up into your touch and purred softly.

in the end of the day. your prizing scratch is what makes the research worth it.

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ. thankyou for supporting! ୨♡୧

[heartfullofleeches]

how would rascal be with a reader who isn’t too into the more dominate role? ive always been shy and can never see myself having the upper hand, but i love this little bunny guy sm!! though it feels maybe my choices of persona wouldn’t be his fav 😢😢

would it be like two bottoms in a room? LOL

What Rascal values most in a partner is someone who shows little to no fear in its presence. All they've known from humans is terror and hatred so anyone who feels differently is destined to be his mate in Rascal's eyes. A reader with a more controlling/dominate personality eases worries Rascal himself has over accidently harming his human when he gets too excited around them.

Rascal would be just as happy with a shy darling as he is with creep or any other darling, but it's best if you're verbal with some boundaries you have or bunny man will be all over you twenty-four seven. Something as simple as telling it you need some space will usually get him to sulk in the corner long enough for you to have a couple hours to yourself.

On top of everything, Rascal is more discreet with his aggressive side around a shyer reader. With someone like Creep, Rascal knows they'd probably wouldn't be bothered by what's underneath its mask or if he took the occasional bite out of their neighbors as long as they don't get caught and it's not one of the few creep tolerates. Turning the one person who genuinely cares for them into another who is scared of them is Rascal's biggest fear. They wouldn't know what to do if you hated them too.

-

"That was a really scary movie, Rascal. Specially that mask the killer wore..."

The rabbit's shoulders slump as his eyes flicker from the film's cover to the faint reflection of itself in the television screen. If you glanced at it from afar, the killer's mask - a recreation of an executioner's hood, it almost looked a bit like...

His.

Rascal's head falls to your lap, its long legs perched over the side of the couch as it tries to make itself small as a cute little bunny one would normally have as a pet. He nudges your hand with his cheek, pressing at it till it rests atop his head right where his left ear connects with his skull - one of his favorite places for you to pet him when he's stressed.

"Oh no, Rascal- That wasn't about you. I like your mask! It's cute!- Just like you..."

Hearing those magic words, Rascal's mood flips like a switch. The rabbit springs up, pulling your legs over its own as they cage you against their furry chest with their massive arms, pleased that your fear of bloodthirsty monsters in masks only applied to ones of fiction.

[twoa-plus]

hello gravity falls fandom i am going insane and putting everyone into monsterfalls. i cannot be stopped. i’m on mobile so i can only post 10 at a time but here’s the first 10 + explanations :3

mermaid mabel is cool and all but i think she should be Weirder. also the idea of her not being able to frolic makes me sad. so she’s a wolpertinger now

i like cervitaur dipper he can stay. gave him a lil saddlebag for the extra pocket space & turned the spots on his back into more constellations :3

BEAR WITH ME OK dragon stan. PLEASE PLEASE HEAR ME OUT PLEASE i pulled out the monster manual for this and everything & copper dragon suits him PERFECTLY they’re funny and charismatic and like having company around and get annoyed with people who don’t like their jokes and are very protective of their hoards and

i like sphinx ford i think it suits him but i don’t really like how everyone just makes him a lion furry with wings like c’mon get WEIRD !!!! give that cat a jarringly human face

tbh my justification for this one is mostly just that i think it’s funny but. fur bearing trout wendy. they come from lumberjack lore so it’s at least kind of on theme

listen i usually just draw twinks and pretty girls im fighting for my life here dont @ me. anyways fairy soos comes from a post by @/year2000electronics :3

GRENDAAA i wanted her to be both pretty/cute and also strong bc like. yeag. so i settled on peryton with a violet-backed starling as the bird :) c’mon man it’s a deer pegasus with cool colors what’s not to love

when i first started doing these my bestie said candy would be a fresno nightcrawler and i have not looked back. i dont know why but it suits her so much

someone in my tiktok comments said mothman robbie and i was just like. yeah sounds legit. and then my bestie said he’d be a rosy maple moth who dyes himself black/red to be emo or whatever and now we’re here :3

gideon is a kitsune bc they’re tricksters or whatever and also easy to turn into a marketable plushie. he would totally be plushie-able

ok now i am off to make the sequel i’ll put a link here when it’s done :D

edit: IT HAS ARRIVED

[ejlovesvi]

note: i didn’t proofread this so i apologize if there are any spelling errors or mistakes. enjoy!

THERE’S ANOTHER ONE?

pairing: taylor swift x fem!reader

warnings: fluffy, kissing, alcohol intake, tay being upset that her fur babies love you more than her

masterlist

the night had been amazing so far. you and taylor had gone on your first date and everything went perfect. you two went to a nice restaurant and sat in the far back table where you giggled like school girls and gushed about shared interests.

so now as taylor giggles drunkenly, fiddling with her key to open her door, you can’t help but hope this isn’t a one time thing. she finally opens the door and swings it open, sighing in sweet relief. she kicks her shoes off and turns to face you when you close the door behind yourself as you take in the environment.

your eyes lock back on her and you smile girlishly at her soft gaze. you begin to take your shoes off all while maintaining the eye contact, “what?” you simply ask with a small laugh.

taylor bites her lip to contain her smile and shakes her head, “tonight’s been so amazing. i feel invincible right now.”

you grin at her, walking forward until you wrap your arms around the back of her neck, staring up at her with loving eyes. this is rare, for you to feel this in love on the first date. but you can tell taylor feels the same with the way she smiles down and wraps her arms around your waist. it makes you feel less stupid and shameful.

taylor gazes down at you in silence, her eyes heavy with alcohol and exhaustion of the eventful night. nonetheless, she conserves her energy for you, as she doesn’t want this night to end.

“can i kiss you, please?” she asks softly, a bit of her worried she may have misread your pace and signs of the night.

you give her a reassuring nod, “of course.”

she closes the space and just like that sparks fly in the air around you two. her soft lips move against yours slowly and gently, her movements a bit sloppy due to the bottle of wine you two split at the restaurant.

before you have the chance to deepen the kiss you feel something soft and furry move against your leg. you pull away from taylor’s lips and look down, a smile taking over your tingling lips at the sight.

a cat looks up at you with wide eyes, then a small meow escapes it’s mouth. you unhook your grip on taylor’s neck and crouch down to the cat’s level, letting it sniff your hand. taylor watches the interaction with love filled eyes.

“hi baby.” you coo, petting the cat from its neck to it’s tail. you continue the movement and eventually end up sitting criss cross on the floor in front of the door.

the cat climbs onto your lap and you smile in glee as you scratch it with your nails, feeling successful when the cat begins to knead it’s paws into your thighs.

taylor sits in front of you, criss cross as well with a small playful frown. “lucky, meredith never does that with me.”

you glance up at her with raised eyebrows before looking back down to the cat that purrs loudly, nudging her head against your slack hand. “hi meredith.” you whisper and scratch under her chin.

another cat enters the room and freezes once it’s next to taylor. she picks the cat up and places it into her lap, stroking it softly. “this is benjamin button, he’s my baby boy.”

you lean forward slightly and hold your hand out for benjamin to sniff. after a few seconds the cat jumps out of taylor’s lap and climbs onto your other available thigh. you scratch and pet both cats with a smile on your face.

taylor watches with endearment. the urge gets too strong that she impulsively pulls out her phone, snapping a quick photo. you look up with a grin, shaking your head. she shrugs, “had to save the moment. so the kids can see the first time they met you in the future.” she jokes.

it’s a small joke but it makes your stomach flutter. the thought of becoming official with her to be able to call her cat’s yours as well. you blush heavily and lean forward, planting a soft kiss on her lips.

she grins at you with loving eyes before they widen, “oh wait, you still have to meet olivia.”

your eyes widen more than hers as you gasp, “there’s another one?!”

[ghostlyangels1204]

Simon would make a good dog dad- that's it, that's where my mind is rn <3

“Absolutely not”.

Price was full of shit. That much he knew. And with this new bright idea, Simon’s new concern had been confirmed. His Captain had absolutely gone mad. One too many bumps on the head, he reasoned, had dealt too much damage- pair that with his ‘old age’, and Simon considers sending him to a care home.

There was no doubt in his mind- he was not having a slobbering, shitting furry nuisance by his side 24/7. What the hell was Price thinking? “I don’t need no’ furry mongrel. I’m a soldier not a dog walker Cap’.”, “The K9 handler’s wife just gave birth- fella needs time off, so I thought, why not give her to the softest soldier I know?” He knew Price was pulling his leg. “Just give it a week, eh Si? Seven days and if you want rid of her, she’s gone and some other poor sod can have her to cuddle at night.”

He stares down at the puppy, no more than a few months old, who is happily chomping down on the laces of the captain’s boots. Looking up, he meets the eyes of Price, “If it shits in my boots once, I’m handing it to you personally.”

The first few days went as expected, Simon wanted to die.

4am scratching at the door to go potty. Stealing his boxers when he needed to get dressed, (Johnny took extra entertainment at that one- even forming an alliance with the puppy to hide his clothes from him during his shower- he got two weeks of cleaning the barracks for that one), and she seemed to have a special fixation on everyone’s shoe laces, nipping and tugging at the cotton until blood flow was cut-off from them being wound too tight. He wasn’t made for the level of patience required. Sure, he had to deal with new recruits daily- their brazen, ‘-I-know-it-all’ attitudes that would someday get them killed… but shouting at them would result in at least a modicum of change.

That result cannot happen as easily with dogs.

But Price began to notice a shift. The team sat down for dinner, exhausted after a hell of a long day of drills. One person was missing from the table, however, Simon. They reasoned that he must be showering or something. But when he enters the mess hall, they notice the ‘small sergeant’ by his side- head bopping up and down as she patters next to her foster handler. He sits down with a huff, and she dives down under the table, spinning in circles before curling up next to Simon’s feet. She rests her head on the toe of his boots before closing her eyes.

“She needed a run around- little mutts’ wound up. Won’t sleep tonight if I don’t tire her out…”

The rest of the men smirk to themselves- Price always knew to trust his intuition.

And when day seven came around, Simon didn’t mention anything. Price knew he never forgets anything, so he was actively avoiding it. Avoiding having to admit he maybe, just maybe… liked having her around. He knocks twice on his office door, a gruff, “come in” allowing him to enter the Lieutenant’s space. Price does a quick scan of the room, eyes landing on the prize.

She’s cuddled up on a bed Simon had ordered for her, the pastel pink standing out like a sore thumb in Simon’s dull, grey office. The bed is nicer than his own, two blankets decked out with floral patterns covering the pillowy surface, a small teddy bear tucked under her chin as she sleeps the evening away.

One look is all Price needs, his eyes plead both, “Don’t even start,” with, “Please don’t make me give her up.”

“Made a friend?” Price teases, opting for a softer approach. He has no intent of taking her away, just wants his soldier to admit, that maybe he in fact, was wrong.

 “Like you wouldn’t believe…”

Word Count: 662

[crackicrossiships]

Doodle I did on MSPaint of Mama Cipher (Scalene) cause I love her and she fuels my Mama’s kid instincts.

Just imagine this doodle being a what if she didn’t die au.

Basically her with her whole ass son who is a mama’s boy plus some furry oc who her son is dating. I wanted to doodle more on the blank space but didn’t know what its just blank.

Also my interpretation of Scalene is just how I view her and is indeed inspired by others interpretations of her. Please don’t debate on how many eyes or where her eyes should be 😭 I just wanted to doodle mama triangle

[jymwahuwu]

I was wondering. . What if scenario where darling finally escaped jing yuan by dying and jing yuan had felt all emotions at once anger, furry, sadness, despair, agony. He just cant move on from darling he waited and waited for her next reincarnation and. . Finally after so long of waiting she was finally here standing, breathing and alive

And his not so kind once he kidnapped darling once more and had locked her on his (their) shared bedroom then he just basically fucks darling to the hell and back after so long and he makes her cum and darling felt overstimulated and had kept crying to him to slow down and trying to push him away because who in the right mind would suddenly pull a strange onto some person's house then fucks them into oblivion?!

(Basically idk why im horny or maybe its because i have a period idk anymore-)

From Cloud anon!

thank you cloud anon<3 hesitant to write this…but i love the thirsty ending 🫣 for Jing Yuan, if his clingy and sweet side can't keep you… he doesn't mind getting rough…?

CW: yandere, angst, non-con, kidnapping, overstimulation, (mentioned) death in the past

(The relationship between the reader here and Jing Yuan’s past life is described in a rather vague way. Please DON’T send me requests and comments about angst and take revenge on yandere. I’m tired of receiving those 😭 Please read the rules.)

That's a really rare concept for long living species; life blooms in the spring and withers in the winter. Jing Yuan placed flowers on the coffin, and… still… worked and lived as usual, arranging Luofu's daily affairs at the seat of divine foresight. People whispered- they said, Look. The general is so ruthless. His only lover in centuries had withered like a flower, and he was unmoved.

Jing Yuan knows that he can still live as usual, but there is an empty gap in his heart, which often aches, but he still chooses to keep you in his heart instead of letting time pass by. No loss can cause Jing Yuan to stagnate, he just lives with wounds. He regretted not leaving more holographic records and replayed the few videos you had, over and over again. "mm- Jing Yuan-" Your lips parted slightly, a record of a time when you were so annoyed that you blocked the camera with your hands and giggled while eating ice cream. That was - that was when you liked him, right? The general sometimes wonders - are you tired of him pestering you like that? He apologized, apologized, apologized bitterly - but you wouldn't hear it again. In the end, he still couldn't keep you, you flowed away between his fingers like floating sand. What had hundreds of years left for him?

Reincarnation - Jing Yuan really found you, in another galaxy. In the dim light, you are standing on the street, laughing and chatting with your friends. A familiar frown and a sweet smile, and when talking about interesting topics, the clear and sweet laughter leaked out. Similar facial features, similar movements and expressions are the imprint of the same soul. Jing Yuan suppressed the urge to take you away immediately, knowing that he must first find out your identity in this life. He removes every possible obstacle and takes you away.

Locked up in a room, in the general's mansion. Since you didn't like being able to travel freely among the stars in your previous life.

To you, you who have no information, this is really the cage that abruptly descends. Be sent to the Xianzhou ship by the people of your planet. Your hands are locked with a bunch of locks made of solid space material, but they are wrapped in plush fabric as if to prevent your wrists from getting hurt. The burly man with long white hair, said to be a general named Jing Yuan, caresses your body desperately - desperately. Lots of sticky, dazzling kisses. His tongue dipped into your mouth to search. Tears…tears? This mysterious man doesn't shed tears when you look at him, it's like the tears have dried up. Your thighs and calves were tied together and spread apart, forcing you to expose your most private parts and squirt on his thick fingers for hours. Orgasm is no excuse to stop. After your struggles and twitches, those fingers didn't slow down at all. The cock is buried deep inside you without any suspense after the warm-up is completed. The tight walls contracted and the liquid spread outward.

You are confused - confused, orgasming in pleasure, wanting to push him away (but your hands are tied), asking who he is and why he treats you like this while still maintaining your senses, and all you get is silence. It was the silence of not wanting to repeat the old dreams. From behind, his entire crotch is pressed against your ass, and even your hands are pressed by him, rocking and pounding you back and forth, occasionally kissing your cheek in a daze. Face to face, staring into your eyes, the lower body is closely connected. On top, you were forced to ride him, swinging your waist. From the side, a strong arm lifts one of your legs and slowly inserts it. In front, sucking and servicing that cock for hours. Seed and fluid oozed from the connection. There are two trembling vibrators stuck to your nipples. What a mess.

After making up for some of the love he hadn't had in hundreds of years, the general felt more at ease. Jing Yuan's hands wrapped around your shoulders and waist. You wanted to hate him so much- hate him, but he read you bedtime stories and space. He prepares rich meals for you, toys to relieve your boredom, and kisses your forehead. He promises to take you out, but not now.

Not now.

[adragonsfriend]

Having an incredible vision of a world where "igniting a lightsaber" is a bit more literal of a phrase, and lightsabers are like blowtorches, where you turn on the gas and then light it with another flame.

Please just imagine count Dooku with a fancy metal cigarette lighter for this purpose,

Anakin always loses his lighter and has to ask R2-D2 to light his saber with the flamethrower he installed,

Obi-Wan always just pulls a single match out of his pocket and holds it up like it's the last one he has but it never actually is

Qui-Gon and Yoda have both lit their sabers with a blunt at some point (idk if actually possible i am not a cool kid but shhh they are space wizards)

Initiates all have to line up to have an instructor light their training sabers

Going to Ilum to get your kyber crystal is accompanied by (another) lesson on fire safety

Wookies and other furry species have some kind of safety lighter probably

Aquatic species use some other form of weapon i guess? or have like sci-fi greek fire idk

Some Jedi believe that if there is no naturally available source of flame than it's not the will of the Force to light their sabers at all

A common gift from masters to padawans is their first lighter or maybe there would be a pair of beads designed to create sparks (kept on padawan braid/strings as a back up)

Mace always uses the spark beads (shatterpoint imagery you get me)

Depa does the same as Mace, for the aesthetic (she didn't get a purple lightsaber but she can have this ok), and teaches Caleb the same (he keeps his beads into the empire, even though he has to hide them)

Luke also uses R2,

Pre-war Jedi don't even light their sabers that often, and this is why those rumors about Jedi all using death-sticks started, since very few outsiders know why they actually carry lighters

Sidious lights his with lightning (which sounds cool but actually it backfires and blows up in his face at least 50 percent of the time)

Maul just has an actual blowtorch he uses to light his saber, which

If the Jedi try and deny the death stick rumors than new rumors start that they're all pyromaniacs, so they don't really bother.

[genderfluid-insomniac]

Based on the conversation we had and the fact you mentioned you get things done faster if it's a request. Can I get Sun Wukong and Macaque separately with their glamour accidentally dropping in front of their s/o and them being absolutely drowned in kisses and compliments before they can put their glamour back up?

Kat you know I can't resist this and I loved writing this!!

Sun Wukong + Macaque (separately) with their glamour accidentally dropping in front of their s/o

Sun Wukong

"There's my gorgeous king." You always got genuinely distracted by the beauty of his eyes and how they glowed a crimson color, better than any sunset they'd ever seen. His scars made him look more attractive and you tried to kiss each and every one of them. After minutes of pleading and using puppy dog eyes, you were finally able to convince him to lower his glamours, now fully sitting on his lap and facing your beyond-beautiful lover. Brushing your fingers over his scared chest and loving the shiver that flowed through him at the affectionate touch he wasn’t used to.

A gentle rumble came from his chest and signaled to you that he was enjoying this, cupping his face in your hands and resting your forehead against his. “Such pretty crimson eyes. All for me to adore and love.” Sun leaned into your hands and smiled at you, every bit of him melted at your touch, and couldn’t help the way his tail swayed back and forth. You felt the extra furry appendage thumping on the ground, its gold and brown colors fading into one another from all the battles and burns he’d suffered.

You sweetly kissed his lips and chuckled at his eagerness to return it back. He mumbled how lucky he was to have such an affectionate and caring significant other, one who worshipped every aspect of him; even the features he considered ugly and shameful. “I love you.” Sun’s tail wrapped around your waist and buried his head into your neck, feeling your fingers run through the whitened patches of his fur. “I love you too, peaches.”

Six Eared Macaque

The shadow could barely process what was going on with the mountain of affection being poured onto him. Feeling every spot your lips kissed him and relishing the warmth radiating off of you, still energized from the beach day you had both attended. You had gone back to his place to recharge your social batteries (mostly his) and he’d dragged you into his arms for a nap. Although a persistent thought in your mind had told you it had been too long since your beloved demon let his true features show and one of the ways that successfully convinced Macaque to drop his glamours was showering him in affection and praises of affirmation.

The repeated pecks and hugs had caught him off guard at first, only being able to stare into the space next to you “So pretty.” You whispered and combed fingers through his fur, caressing his now accidentally unglamoured ears and petting the inside of each. The soft fur led into smooth scarred skin around his eye and lighter patches of fur from LBD forcing her power into him, white fur that contrasted his midnight black streaked down his right side. Macaque felt how you worshipped his ears and unconsciously curled his tail around his leg; an anxious tic he'd picked up over time. “Please, Mac. I know keeping up your glamours is tiring but I love seeing you. The you I fell in love with.” The red mask surrounding his eyes seemed to glow as he became flustered and stalled, attempting to find a response or witty comment. He laughed, tail swaying happily and forehead now resting against yours. You felt his hot breath against your lips and ears flutter at your affection, quietly laughing to himself. “You spoil me with affection too much, lotus.”

[do-it-jakey-baby]

Fourth of July

Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Synopsis: Sam hated you, it was evident in the way that he spoke to you every time you saw him, but one Fouth of July weekend, everything changes.

Warnings: smut, adult themes, unprotected sex, enemies to lovers, profanity, drinking, mean Sam, soft Sam

18+, MINORS DNI

Your tyres crunched along the gravel as you navigated across the parking lot, until you found the perfect wide space for your Land Rover Defender. You parked up, slinging your backpack over your shoulder and making your way to the trunk. You open it up, your furry little companion barking with excitement, scrunching his nose and panting.

“Hey, boy! Ready for a weekend of adventure?” You giggle, ruffling the curls on the top of his head. He jumps down from the car and runs alongside you, looking up every so often to make sure you’re still there. You’re back in Michigan for the Fourth of July weekend, celebrating as usual with your best friends at a cabin your rent every year for the festivities. As you round the corner, you spot a familiar face. Sighing, you prepare yourself for whatever he has in store for you today. He’s bent down, picking up crates of beer to take into the cabin, but peers up as he hears your boots traipsing through the stony ground.

“What are you doing here?” He rolls his eyes, pushing his hair back as it falls around his face.

“I come here every year, Sam. You know that.” You frown, already finding his presence unbearable.

“Just thought you might be busy this year.” He mumbles.

“Well I’m not. Would it kill you to not be a total jackass for like, five minutes?” You throw your hands up, exasperated. This wasn’t how you wanted your weekend to begin, especially after the week from hell you’d just endured.

“That wouldn’t be very me of me, would it?” He scoffs, smirking slightly.

“No, it certainly would not.”

He cocks his head to the side, still sporting that infuriating smirk. “What, no smartass remark?”

You sigh, rubbing your hand across your forehead. “I don’t have the energy for you today, Sam. Why don’t you just pretend like I’m not here, avoid me and I’ll avoid you.”

His smirk suddenly vanishes from his face, replaced with an expression you can’t quite read. He stands, taking a step towards you.

“You ok?”

You recoil slightly, taking a step back and almost tripping over your dog. “Yes. Fine. I’ll be better when you leave me alone. Where are your brothers, anyway?” You tap your fingers impatiently against your thigh, wanting nothing more than for this conversation to end. Your eyes scan the front of the cabin, finding no one else’s presence.

“Inside setting up. Why, you trying to ditch me already?”

You scoff, your arms raising from your sides to cross over the front of your torso. “Ditch you? Sam, we never speak, let alone hang out together. You literally just asked me why I’m even here. So yeah, I’m looking for your brothers because they actually like me.”

He just stands there, staring at you with the same expression painted on his face. You raise your eyebrows at him, confusion taking hold at his out-of-character behaviour. In the 6 years you’ve known him, he’s never once asked you if you’re ok. He doesn’t take an interest in you, and is never nice.

“I’m really not in the mood for this today. Please, can we not do this.”

He looks momentarily defeated, but quickly shakes it off with a shrug of his shoulders. He bends back down, picking up the crate of beer. Thank god for that. You take that as the end of the conversation, so move past him quickly and turn the handle to the door of the cabin, letting yourself in.

“Honey, I’m home!” You call out into the foyer. It only takes a fleeting moment for a mess of dark brown curls to round the corner, running directly to you and lifting you up into his toned arms.

“Peach!” He hollers at you, spinning you around.

“Daniel! Careful of Hendrix!” You giggle, holding onto his shoulders tightly.

He puts you down, placing a kiss to your cheek, then bends down to fuss over your dog.

“Henny, my man! You’re just as handsome as the last time I saw you, buddy!”

Hendrix wastes no time flopping down onto his back, showcasing his tummy eagerly. Danny obliges, giving plenty of loving pets.

“When did you get here?”

He looks up at you from the floor, still running his hands over Hendrix’s fluffy coat. “Like, twenty minutes ago? Got unloaded pretty quickly. Sam is just helping Jake fill up the bar, fuck knows where Josh is.”

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” You grin, watching as Josh enters the room, his arms outstretched to you.

“Beautiful girl, how are you?” He coos into your ear as he envelopes you in a bear hug.

“Could be better, but let’s not fixate on that. I’m here to have a good time with my best friends.”

“But we can talk about it at some point right?” He pulls back slightly, giving you a concerned look.

“Maybe, but not now. Please.”

Just like always, your saving grace plods into the room. Jake pushes the sunglasses that are sat low on his nose up into his hair, smiling brightly at you.

“I thought I felt the temperature raise, the sunshine has returned. Hi, sugar.” He places his hands onto your shoulders, giving you the once over before kissing your cheek softly.

“Hi Jacob.” You giggle, scrunching your nose.

Suddenly, the atmosphere changes. You look up to see Sam stood in the doorway, his steely expression fixed on you. You audibly sigh, feeling deflated again after such a warm reception.

“I’m uh, gunna go get a drink.”

You exit the room hastily, making a beeline for the bar. You find a lowball, fill it with ice, then pour yourself some neat whiskey. The good kind that Jake always keeps generously stocked. You swirl the amber liquid around in the glass, then take a hearty glug, savouring the burn as it slips down your throat. You take a few centering breaths, but are interrupted when you feel a presence in the room with you. It moves from the door to beside you, a pair of hands reaching out to grasp the bottle of whiskey.

“Didn’t know you liked this stuff.”

“You don’t know anything about me, Sam.” You huff, taking another swig from your glass. “I wasn’t joking when I said I’m not in the mood for you and your attitude today.”

He leans on the counter next to you. “I’m not trying to have an attitude with you now though, am I?”

“Makes a change.”

He smirks at you, pissing you off even further. “Sam. I said I’m not in the mood, leave me alone. I’ve-” You sigh loudly, raking your hands through your hair. “Never mind…”

Sam places his hand on your arm, causing you to turn and face him in shock. His face softens for a moment, then turns more serious. “No… what were you going to say?”

You feel yourself reaching boiling point, your hand darting out to grasp onto your glass as you knock back the rest of your whiskey. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, slamming the lowball down onto the counter. “Fine, you wanna know so badly? I’ve had a really shitty week. My boyfriend broke up with me and now I have to move out of my apartment. Happy now? You wanna give me some sort of snide comment about how he must be so happy to be rid of me? Go ahead, Sam. I’m all fucking ears.” You grit your teeth, bracing yourself.

Sam clenches his jaw, his eyes studying your face intricately. You watch as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing within his throat. He’s just standing there, looking at you. What a fucking prick.

“Are you really just gunna stand there and stare at me?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, like he’s deciding on if he should say something or not. You’re tired of waiting now, so you begin to push past him to leave the room and find solace amongst real friends. That is, until his hand darts out and firmly grabs onto your wrist.

“Wait.” He mumbles.

You tug on your arm, but it’s no use. He’s got a vice-like grip onto you. Tears sting in your eyes, a mix of frustration and embarrassment. “Sam, what are you doing?! Let me go.”

His eyes widen and he loosens his grip ever so slightly. “Please, I don’t want you to go. I’m sorry.”

Your face contorts, your confusion displayed clearly across it as you struggle to figure out on earth is going on. “You don’t want me to go? Why? Fucking hell, Sam, you’re giving me whiplash.”

“I, uh-, I don’t like seeing you sad.” He mumbles, his fingers now rubbing along the pulse point of your wrist.

“What the fuck has gotten into you? That’s bullshit, and you know it.” You spit, feeling the fury rising within your stomach.

Sam’s face falls, he looks genuinely upset by your words. “That’s not true.”

You frown at him, your eyes scanning his face for any sign of deceit but you find that he’s actually being genuine for once. “Then why are you so mean to me all the time?”

He swallows again, seemly caught in an internal battle. His eyes dart around the area, looking at anything but you.

“You know what, Sam? If you can’t answer me then I have nothing more to say to you.” You had lost all patience at this point, wanting nothing more than to rejoin the others. You attempted to snatch your wrist back, but Sam’s grip tightens once more.

“You want to know why I’m so mean to you?”

“Obviously, hence me asking.” You roll your eyes.

“Because it’s the only way I could make sure you thought about me.”

You furrow your brow. “What?”

He takes a deep breath. “I’ve never had your full attention. You’re always distracted by other people, always laughing and joking and having fun with anyone but me. But when I’m mean, you look at me. You notice me.” He whispers.

“Sam, you’re confusing me so much. Why don’t you just talk to me like a normal person?”

“Because I don’t know how to!” He raises his voice, slamming his hand down onto the counter. “I was afraid of getting closer to you. Afraid of rejection. I pushed you away because I didn’t want to admit how I’m feeling. How I’ve felt all this fucking time.”

Your eyes widen, the pieces slowly coming together to form the whole picture. “How you were… feeling?”

“I like you, ok? A lot.” He rubs his hand across his face.

“You… like me?”

“Christ, Y/N. Of course I fucking like you. I just never wanted you to know, so I’ve acted like a total ass.”

You stand there, staring blankly at the man before you who has just given you the most open and vulnerable conversation ever, revealing that he has feelings for you.

“Please say something.” He mutters.

“I… I don’t know what to say. I’ve spent all this time thinking you hated me, now you’re telling me you like me? This is so overwhelming.”

“I don’t hate you, I could never hate you. I’m sorry.”

“How long have you felt this way?”

Oh, god. Forever. Like, a stupidly long time.”

“And you never thought to say anything to me, at all?”

Sam lets out a dry laugh. “I thought about it, but then I saw how you are with my brothers, with Daniel. The way you light up a room. How nice you are to everyone. I knew I’d just drag you down, or not be good enough for you. Then you started dating that dickhead. So I kept it to myself and did what I could to get you out of my head. But it never worked.”

“So why are you telling me now?”

“I don’t really know, I guess it just kinda came out. I felt bad that I’d upset you while you’re going through shit.” He steps closer to you, the scent of his cologne taking over your senses completely. It’s so undeniably Sam, earthy and musky, reminiscent of the incense he frequently burns. You feel yourself gravitating towards him, like there’s a magnetic pull between the two of you. He notices the proximity, so reaches out and pushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Sammy.” You whisper.

You hear his breath hitch in his throat. “You’ve never called me that before.” He whispers. His fingers are still in your hair, trailing down to stroke against the side of your face.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Sam swallows thickly, before nodding. “Yeah, of course.”

You take a deep breath, about to spill your own truth. “When I first met you, when I was over at Danny’s house that day, I had the biggest crush on you. I thought you were the most beautiful person I’d ever laid eyes on. To begin with, you were nice to me, but then you turned so suddenly. It kinda broke my heart, y’know. I’ve spent so many years trying to chisel away at you, hoping that someday you’d stop hating me. But you never did.” You sigh, feeling extremely vulnerable.

Sam grimaces, his thumb ghosting over the shell of your ear. “I was just terrified of my feelings. I’m so sorry, I’ll never stop being sorry. I acted like such a dickhead.”

Before you can stop yourself, your hand darts up to Sam’s face, cupping his cheek. He sucks in a sharp breath, the proximity between you both now considerably smaller. He moves his hand from the side of your face to the back of your neck, massaging his fingers into the nape. Your lips part slightly at the feeling, and you watch as his eyes darken.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” He says in a low growl. His face is now only inches away from yours. You can feel his breath, hot and fragrant with the lingering scent of the Topo Chico he had whilst unpacking. In a moment of weakness, you close the gap. Your lips brush against his lightly, eliciting a groan from deep inside his chest. He kisses you back, his grip on your neck growing tighter. His lips move against yours desperately, like he would perish without the contact. He steps forward, pushing you up against the counter. You let out a soft whine into his mouth as the kiss deepens, your hands sliding up the back of his shirt and tracing patterns on his soft skin. You feel him shudder under your touch, pulling you closer and enveloping you in him. His tongue begs for entrance into your mouth, and you oblige, letting it mingle with yours.

Suddenly, you pull back. Your eyes widen as you realise what’s happening, and the speed in which it is. “Sam, what are we doing?”

“I have no idea, but I don’t want it to stop.” He mutters, his arms still wrapped around you.

You feel conflicted. One the one hand, this is something that you’ve secretly always wanted. But on the other, you found it hard to just forget the years of torment that he had put you through. “I don’t know if I can do this. You really hurt me over the years, regardless of how I felt about you.”

Sam frowns. “Please.” He murmurs, his hands gripping into you. “Please, just let me prove that I’m not an asshole. Let me make it up to you. I know I don’t deserve it, believe me I do. Just give me a chance to show you what I can really be like.”

You rest your forehead on his. “I don’t know. God, you make it so hard to say no.”

He closes his eyes. “Then don’t, angel.”

Something inside of you snaps at the pet name, igniting a raging inferno. “Fuck it.” You snake your hands up to his face, pulling him closer and kissing his lips hungrily. His hands drop down to your hips, gripping onto them firmly as he yanks you into him. His desire for you is on full display, evident in the way that he’s kissing you back.

“God, you have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do this.” He whispers between kisses.

You hitch your leg up around his waist and his hand moves to cradle your thigh. You feel your body growing hotter as the situation unfolds, the pressure in the pit of your stomach almost unbearable. His lips drift from yours and down onto your neck, lightly nipping against the sensitive skin. You let out a soft moan, which he seems to enjoy judging by how he’s straining against you.

“Take me to your room.” You pant.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He bends and picks you up in one swift movement, your legs wrapping around him as he hurries across the hall and through the bedroom door. He throws you down onto the bed, a menacing look in his eye.

“Are we really doing this?”

“I fucking hope so. Only if you’re comfortable with it, angel.”

You grab onto him, pulling him down onto the bed. You climb over, straddling his lap and pressing yourself down onto him, feeling every inch of his body.

“You feel so good. I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I’ve imagined you like this.”

You begin to undo the buttons of his shirt, gazing down at him. “Oh yeah? Tell me more.”

He lets out a shaky breath as you begin to trail your lips down his neck. “I- fuck. I think about what it would feel like to have your hands on me, what you’d sound like when I find all the right spots, how you’d say my name breathlessly.”

“Like this?” You coo, splaying your hands across his now bare torso, grinding down onto him as you dig your nails in lightly.

He lets out a low, guttural moan, his hands grasping at the hemline of your t-shirt. You lift your arms up to allow him better access, feeling the material slide up and over your head. You aren’t wearing a bra today, which leaves you entirely naked from the waist up.

“You’re so beautiful.”

He leans forward and sucks your nipple into his mouth, his warm tongue lapping over the sensitive bud. Your back arches at the contact, a soft whimper falling from your lips.

“God, those pretty noises. You drive me crazy, Y/N.”

“Keep it up and you’ll hear more.” You smirk.

His eyes rake over your body hungrily as he explores you with his hands, getting to know every inch. “I’m going to savour every goddamn second of this.” He growls, flipping you over so that your back is pressed against the mattress. You writhe against him, the electricity of the atmosphere zapping in your ears and all over your body with every touch. Every brush of his fingers against your skin sends shockwaves through you. Your thumb drifts up to his bottom lip, pulling it down lightly. He takes it into his mouth and bites the tip, causing your eyes to flutter back into your head. He manoeuvres himself down the bed, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your shorts. He pulls them down slowly, then makes light work of sliding your panties over your hips. He bunches them up into his hand, putting them in his pocket.

“Souvenir.” He winks.

“You’re gross!” You giggle, pulling him towards you for another kiss. You feel your jaw fly open as he drags his middle finger up through your folds, teasing your entrance.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.”

“It’s all for you.” You breath.

A low growl rumbles from his chest as he begins to work circles over your clit with the pad of his thumb. You suck in a sharp breath at the feeling blossoming between your legs, Sam getting you exactly where you need to be at a frightening pace. You begin to claw at his belt buckle, but he grabs onto your wrist and pins it up above your head.

“This is about you right now, angel.” He clicks his tongue, quickening his fingers as you squirm beneath him. You’ve always wondered how it would feel to be at the hands of Sam. You used to watch in awe as he picked away at his bass on stage, the way he’d throw his head back when he got lost in the music. He was exceptionally talented with his hands, and now you were finding out about the other side of his skill. As you’re transfixed on the feeling, you don’t realise he’s now lowered himself down even further until his tongue makes contact with your clit. You gasp, bundling your hands into his silky waves. He focuses his tongue on your sweet spot, whilst pumping two fingers in and out of you, curling up to reach where you need it most. You’re unravelling rapidly, your breaths laboured as he coaxes your climax from you.

“Sammmm.” You whine.

“Let go, baby. I’ve got you. M’gunna take care of you like I always should have.”

You feel your legs shudder as his words tip you over the edge. He works you through it steadily, his lips ghosting over your neck and collarbones. You sigh softly, then prop yourself up onto your elbows.

“Take your fucking pants off.”

Sam looks momentarily taken aback by your brashness, but its quickly replaced as a devious grin spreads across his face. “Yes, ma’am.”

He stands and fulfils your request, unbuckling his belt and letting it thud to the floor. He pops the button and unzips, sliding the pants over this thighs and letting them pool around his ankles. He steps out, kicking them backwards and stands proudly in front of you.

“Lose the boxers, too.”

He smirks, flicking his fingers into the waistband and taking them off, meeting the same fate as his pants in a pile behind him. God, he’s gorgeous.

You beckon him towards you with your finger, looking up at him with lust filled eyes. He moves to hover over you, but you wag your finger in front of his face. “On the bed next to me.”

He lays down beside you and you raise up onto your thighs, climbing over and straddling him. His eyes widen as you take him into your hand, pumping a few times, then line him up with your entrance and slide down onto him until he’s filled you completely. He lets out a strangled cry, his hands flying up to grip into the meat of your hips. You begin to lift up, starting with an agonisingly slow pace. Sam’s eyes meet yours, pleading for further movement.

“Oh, you want more?” You tease, changing pace immediately and bouncing up and down with force.

“Fuck!” He chokes, his fingernails digging into your skin, marking you for days to come. He drives up to meet you, the tension in the air thick as your sweaty bodies blend together effortlessly. Everything is a blur as you both reach your peaks together, your movements becoming sloppy as the pleasure consumes you. His hand snakes up between your breasts and grips around your throat, constricting the blood flow and making your head feel deliciously fuzzy. Your walls begin to flutter, so Sam reaches forward and teases your clit, his left hand still wrapped tightly around your neck. He stares into your eyes, his pupils blown wide, mouthing cum for me. You let out an obscene moan, tipping your head back in ecstasy as the pleasure washes over you like the sunshine on a summer’s day. Sam’s hands fly to your hips, pulling you down onto him roughly as he reaches his own release.

“Holy shit.” He gasps as he twitches inside you.

You press your forehead to his and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He whispers, sweat dripping down his brow. He kisses your lips with a newfound passion, letting his tongue swipe against your bottom lip. You place your fingertips gently on his cheeks, tracing them down to his jawline.

“I forgive you.” You smile, watching his face light up.

He kisses you again, over and over. “Thank you. Thank you.” He chants, squeezing you impossibly hard as you giggle in his arms.

“I suppose we should uh, clean ourselves up and re-join the others.” You chuckle.

“Yeah, they probably think we’ve killed each other.” Sam grins.

You both re-dress, using the bathroom in Sam’s room to fix your hair and smudged make-up, then exit the room one by one. As you enter the living area, you’re met with 3 pairs of eyes staring at you. You give them a sheepish smile, rubbing your elbow nervously.

“Fucking finally.” Jake smirks.

You throw your head in your hands, your face flushing the deepest shade of crimson. Sam bristles beside you as he runs a hand through his hair.

“You owe me $20, cough up!” Jake nudges Josh, who is rolling his eyes.

“You guys made a bet?!” You scold, glaring at them.

“Oh honey, this bet has been going on for longer than you can imagine.” Josh laughs, sending you a wink.

“Yeah, yeah. Can we not. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.” Sam places his arm around you, causing all of the hairs on your body stand to attention. The display of affection in front of his brothers is truly heartwarming, and you know in that moment you made the right decision.

“Shall we go grab a drink?” He whispers, smiling down at you.

“I’d love that.”

As you walk off into the kitchen, you hear the muffled sounds of the three boys engaged in a lively conversation.

“I always knew they’d find each other one day.”

~

To be continued… ?

[endcant]

save a bastion for queer culture in a famously hateful city

i’ll try to write a shorter and sweeter post about this later, but for now i will just beg at length.

there is a town near me called Murfreesboro where at various points they have banned or attempted to ban public homosexuality, drag, and pride flags. for a time their county’s youth incarceration rate was 48% (contrasted with the rest of the state at 5%) due to corruption in their local courts system. every juvenile case that made it to the wrong judge resulted in the child being sent to jail, because the county commissioner thought it’d be “cool” if the jail was a “profit center” (yes these are his actual words). these are just a few examples but suffice it to say, this is a very difficult place to grow up, especially for LGBT kids.

despite all of this difficulty, the area has a remarkable alternative music scene with a few small venues where queer people and young people who don’t fit in elsewhere can genuinely have fun and feel safe for the night. despite the city’s reputation, queer people in the broader area flock to the town for raves and DIY shows. in this area, music culture is intertwined with queer culture and leftist efforts to a much greater degree than i’m used to as somebody from the middle of california.

i really admire the venues and event organizers that cultivate a safe spaces like this in a place where it is decidedly unsafe for queer people, and where the youth are constantly in danger of having their lives ruined for totally arbitrary reasons.

this is why it breaks my heart that murfreesboro is trying to shut down a venue called The Graveyard Gallery. the graveyard gallery is a place where a ton of events are constantly held for lgbt, furry, and alternative communities. it is one of very few alternative places in the broader nashville area where i have felt really, truly safe and welcome as a person of color.

most recently, The Graveyard Gallery has come under attack for attempting to hold a Trans Day of Visibility punk show, with the apt title “Trans Day of Vengeance”. Conservative media, both local and national, directed the attention of their audiences towards this event, calling it “tone deaf” to have it on easter, and to have it sort-of-kind-of-close-to-but-not-quite-on the anniversary of the shooting in nashville. All of this, of course, ignoring that the date for TDoV was set in 2009, and that this was a small DIY punk show that really bore no threat to anybody. the show had to be canceled because of credible death threats, so it didn’t even happen, but that hasn’t appeased anybody.

in the wake of this, murfreesboro’s fire marshal has suddenly decided that the building is not acceptable for occupancy and it has to close immediately and for the forseeable future. people can claim it’s unrelated, but i’ve known people to have their businesses suddenly declined by fire marshals due to sheer bigotry before, and shitty towns will just use their fire marshal to bankrupt small business owners that they don’t like. i do not speak for the owners of the gallery on this front, but i personally believe that these things are related.

all this is to say, the graveyard gallery needs to raise money for their legal fees over this matter. this venue is very important to a lot of people, and may be even more important now that the city’s music scene is in the crosshairs of massive conservative media companies.

if you can donate please do, and if you can share this, please do that as well.

thank you for taking the time to read my post. i know there’s a lot going on in the world, but music venues are where people here gather, and music venues are often also a place where people organize to make meaningful change and promote causes that i know most of you would approve of. music is at the heart of this community, and the venues are where the music lives.