#Rock Fort temple

[aniamnes]

Trichy Trip Dos and Don'ts - Essential Tips for a Smooth Journey

One of the most popular tourist destinations in Tamil Nadu, Trichy is a mid-sized city that is a welcome departure from either fully religious cities or concrete jungles. The place is dotted with temples and churches that add to its charm while the city itself is a lively hub of culture and commerce. It is also a great base for visiting nearby places of interest like Kumbakonam, Rameswaram, and Thanjavur.

Travel Journey

The town is well connected to the rest of the state through roads and railways. It's a good idea to hire a car in order to cover more areas at your own pace and avoid missing out on anything important. The major attractions here include the Srirangam and the Rock Fort temple. The former is dedicated to Lord Shiva and is one of the largest temples in the world. The latter is a historic fort that stands on top of a huge rock and is devoted to Lord Ganesha. The climb up to the temple is a bit steep and you will need to share the stairs with dozens of other pilgrims.

Explore The City Of Trichy

Another highlight is the Gangaikonda Cholapuram, a temple complex that was built by the Chola dynasty in the 11th century. The temple is filled with sculptures that depict mythological stories and historical events. Moreover, the complex has several Mandapas (courtyards) and halls that are decorated with intricate carvings. A visit to the Brihadeeswara temple, also known as the Big Temple is a must if you are planning to explore the city of Trichy. This UNESCO World Heritage Monument was built by the Chola dynasty and is among the most impressive in India. The temple is home to a humongous lingam that is 12 feet high.

Conclusion

You can also visit the Tirumalainayak Palace which was built in the 16th century and is adorned with grand pillars. You can also stop by the Gandhi Memorial which is home to a lot of exhibits that depict the life of Mahatma Gandhi. Other places of attraction are the Thiruparankundram Murugan Temple and the Meenakshi Temple. All these temples are located within a short drive from each other and are worth visiting. Last but not least, you can also visit the Trichy Art Gallery and Saraswati Mahal Library Museum while on your tour of the city. This will help you get a more in-depth understanding of the cultural heritage of the region.

[travellingwithhemant]

Dharamshala - Top Unexplored Places to Visit

Top Unexplored Places to Visit in Dharamshala If you are looking to explore offbeat destinations and top unexplored places to visit in Dharamshala, here are some unexplored places that you might find interesting: Kareri Lake: A Hidden Gem in the Hills Located at an altitude of 2,934 meters, Kareri Lake is a stunning glacial lake that remains largely unexplored. The trek to Kareri Lake is a…

[mysunshinetemptress]

Sick

Alexia Putellas x reader

Warnings: really shit short writing I’m so tired I don’t know if I spelled anything correctly

The scent of sweat and determination hung heavy in the air as you watched Alexia storm past the practice field. Her fiery ponytail bounced with every frustrated puff of her breath. Since you joined the Barça Femení squad, You'd known she was stubborn. It was practically a team legend. But dating her, a fiercely competitive Catalonian had brought it home in a whole new way.

Her ACL injury had been a sucker punch. Watching her, the captain, the heart and soul of the team, reduced to frustrated sideline observations was agonising. Every missed practice, every specialist appointment, fuelled the inferno within her. The pressure of leading her childhood team to another championship, now seemingly out of reach, only added to the inferno.

One evening, you found her in the physiotherapy room, a grimace on her face as she battled through a particularly gruelling exercise. Sweat beaded on her forehead, mirroring the frustration in her eyes.

"Hey," you said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You're pushing yourself too hard."

She shot you a fiery look. "I have to be ready. The team needs me."

"They do," you agreed, "But not broken. Take a breath, Alexia. What good are you to them if you re-injure yourself?"

Her jaw clenched, but after a moment, she released a shaky breath. "It's just... this is my team. I've been dreaming of this championship since I was a kid."

You pulled up a chair beside her. "I know, and nobody wants it more than you. But trust the process, trust your teammates.They're holding down the fort while you heal."

There was a flicker of doubt in her eyes, a vulnerability you hadn't seen before. It ignited a fierce protectiveness in you. You knew her drive, and her talent, but right now, she needed someone to remind her of her strength beyond the field.

"We'll get you back out there, stronger than ever," you vowed, squeezing her hand. "But for now," you leaned in, brushing a kiss to her temple, "let your body heal."

The road to recovery was long. There were setbacks, tears, and moments of despair. But through it all, you were her rock, her cheerleader, and sometimes, the voice of reason. Slowly, steadily, Alexia fought her way back. The fire in her eyes never died, but it was tempered with a newfound patience, a trust in her body and her team.

But now as you sit in the changing rooms tying your boots and watching Alexia wince at the noise of the room and Mapi's usual giddy persona you can't help but start to worry again, like yo had all those months ago.

You tugged your laces tighter, the knot mirroring the knot of worry tightening in your stomach. Glancing at Alexia across the room, you saw her wince at Mapi's booming laugh, a stark contrast to the fire that usually burned in her eyes. Here you were, months after her injury, and the old anxieties bubbled back up.

Mapi, oblivious, launched into a story about a stray cat she'd befriended, her voice bouncing off the lockers. Alexia tried to force a smile, but it looked more like a grimace. You knew the changing room noise, usually a comforting pre-game buzz, was likely an assault on her still-healing knee.

Maybe it was the flashbacks to those grueling physiotherapy sessions, or the memory of the desperation in her voice when she'd pushed herself too hard. Whatever it was, a familiar protectiveness washed over you. You stood, boots slapping against the tile floor, and made your way over to her.

"Hey," you said softly, crouching beside her. "Need a minute?"

Alexia met your gaze, her usual fierceness replaced by a flicker of vulnerability. "Just a little overwhelmed," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

You squeezed her hand, the warmth a silent reassurance. "It's okay to feel that way. Just breathe, and focus on yourself. We'll get you in the zone."

Alexia brought your hand to her lips kissing your knuckles gently "Gracias mi amor."

You thought once Alexia got on to the field and started to train that her head would clear and she would be ok instead you notice she's struggling, you look around to see if any of your other teammates notice but they don't seem to or they just ignore it to scared to say anything in fear of getting their head torn off by the captain.

Alexia is slow, on every pass, every shot and goal and every decision she makes during training. Like previously you are the only one who seems to notice but you, only you don't get to say anything to the older girl until the water break.

Placing your hand on her shoulder you give it a squeeze turning her to face you, you frown at the sight. Alexia's dead eyes and scrunched forehead, she's in pain and you panic thinking it's her knee cursing the thought that you should have caught it sooner, only you are surprised when your stubborn, competitive, professional athlete, your captain throws herself into your arms.

You don't hesitate or care about the sweat dripping off the taller girl you wrap your arms around her just as tight "Ale, you feeling ok." Alexia buries her head further into the crook of your neck "My head and throat hurt, I...I want to go home amor." You stoke Alexia's hair nodding "Ok if you're sure Ale."

You race off to tell Jonatan who looks more concerned than anything at the thought of stoic and strong Alexia looking to leave training early. Once you get back to Alexia she hides away in your neck as you walk her into the changing rooms, putting her in your cubby and gathering your things.

Alexia doesn't talk for the entire ride home instead she simply holds your hand right until the minute you have to get out of the car. Alexia isn't clingy she's never been clingy in fact when she tore her ACL she pushed you away, time and time again so this behaviour is odd and a little worrying.

You run Alexia a cool bath and gently help her decompress from training even if it was only short, before picking out some comfy clothes for her to wear and getting her ready for a lazy day.

You and Alexia crash on the couch the midfielder lying on top of you coughing and growing every now and again while you try to soothe her.

"Come on Ale, let's go get you some medicine." You try to coax her into the kitchen to take her medicine but you forget momentarily that no matter how. dedicated your girlfriend is to football and Barcelona she's also a big kid that you have to look after more times than not. This is one of those many times.

Alexia refuses to take her medicine stating it doesn't taste nice and you can't help but let out a huff and roll your eyes "Ale please if you want to be better then you have to take them." Alexia shakes her head and so you have to come up with a solution "Take the medicine and i'll give you a kiss, don't take the medicine and you don't get to see me naked for a very long time."

Alexia looks at you shocked "How long is a long time amor." You smile slightly " Until I see fit." Alexia doesn't hesitate any longer instead taking the medication from your hand and taking it herself before she moves forward to kiss you only for you to step back "Wow, I didn't say I'd kiss you now I'm not getting sick." Alexia let's out a huff pulling you to the couch.

Once you are lying down Alexia goes to ly on top of you once more before lunging her head forward and kissing you softly. "It's only a matter of time till you get sick amor, i thought I'd just speed up the process, that way we can do it together, Vale." You let out a soft laugh lying back down. Of course your girlfriend wouldn't suffer alone no no she had to bring you down to rolling your eyes you pulled out your phone firing off a text to Jonatan.

"what are you doing Amor?." Alexia asked moving her head to see better "Calling us in sick for the rest of the week seen as how you wouldn't suffer alone." Alexia smiled "why would I do that when I can have you."

[j4gm]

SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 1: FIONNA CAMPBELL

Here's a bunch of stuff I spotted. Feel free to add more.

During the anime girl hero dream Fionna mentions Hans Brinker, a character from a novel which introduced speed skating to the United States.

The BMO style alarm clock has BMO's voice.

The ducks that steal Marshall Lee's money look like one-headed versions of the two-headed duck from the original Adventure Time title sequence.

Cheers is a real sitcom. Simon previously sang its theme song in the episode Simon & Marcy, and now it seems to have manifested in the human AU due to his connection with it.

Fionna says "stop acting crazy" to Cake with the same meter as Marceline said "stop acting crazy" to Ice King in the episode I Remember You.

We all spotted this in the trailer but there's a Magic Man hat in this shot. Magic Man's hat was most recently seen being worn by Betty.

The Betty statue also suggests that Simon's psyche has significant influence over this world. The fountain includes frogs, a symbol of change that was previously also used in Temple of Mars. And Fionna mentions the statue underwent renovation twelve years ago, which is the same amount of time that's passed in the prime universe since Betty's amalgamation with GOLB.

It would seem Mrs. Abadeer runs a vacuum cleaner company as well as being Fionna's landlady. And Queenie runs an accounting business as well as the tour bus.

The stickers on Marshall Lee's guitar case are all references to real life punk rock bands. X-Ray Pex = X-Ray Spex, Daikini Kill = Bikini Kill, PM might be a reference to AM as in the Arctic Monkeys. I'm not sure what Las Crudas and Dark Eyes are references to. Perhaps someone more familiar with punk rock can let me know?

In case you were wondering, the credits confirm that this is human genderswapped Fern. It's a bit more obvious now that we can see all her green clothes and backpack, and given what she said about her dreams being super messed up. I'm not gonna go through the rest of the cameo characters in this episode because most of them are pretty obvious or already got figured out when the trailer dropped. That said, if anyone knows who the bus driver is meant to be please let me know.

The sword in the window of this games shop looks very similar to Fionna's sword from the original comic series.

The latte that Gumball - ahem I mean Gary - makes in this scene features PB's swan.

Okay one more cameo mention because I feel like it might become significant later. This is Ice Queen.

Fionna and Cake are dreaming about their apartment block in the credits of this episode, but it has a roof like the Tree Fort and the same little boat with a telescope and parasol.

Episode 2 to follow!

[alieinthemorning]

Tired of Us Yet? [Leona Kingscholar]

Content: Fluff, Established Relationship, Happy Birthday Leona!, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None

Header: @/kyuu9 on Tumblr

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

After promising to go shopping on the weekend, time seemed to slow down exponentially, as if taunting you. Your first outing with Leona in what felt like forever (it had been a month)! You were so excited that you kinda accidentally made it to the gates about 10 minutes earlier than planned. 

“You’re damn near hoppin’ off the walls. You that excited?” Leona commented as he approached you. 

You hadn’t even noticed that you were rocking on your heels, “Well, duh. It’s been a while since we’ve been out.” 

A frown caught his lips for a moment before he leaned down, pecking your temple. “That’s gonna change, alright?”

“I know.” You were certain Leona would keep his promise.

Shopping for Leona was actually pretty easy. All he really wanted was comfortable furniture to lounge around on and anything else (ie. the decorations) could be left to you, and he didn’t fuss about it.

“At this point, we’re making a glorified fort.” You chuckled, “Not that I’m complaining.”

“So what you’re saying is we should use these big pillows,” He pointed to a comically large orange pillow, “as the floor?”

You plopped down on it. “Hmmm…maybe so? It is pretty comfy!” 

“Oh yeah, you look like you’re on the edge of dreamland there.”

You kinda were. There more you laid here, the more you actually considered using these as a floor for his fort—room.

Ping!

Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you gasped, absolutely shocked at what you saw.

Leona_Kingscholar_Official just posted

It was you. Right now, laying on the pillow. Posted to his Magicam. 

You smiled as you stood, “I think we should get at least this one.” You pocketed your phone, then hauled the pillow in the cart with his help. 

Shared to Story

hey.hey.its.cay.cay commented on your Story

AYOOOOO

ARE Y’ALL OUT ON A DATE RN

“Welcome back, my dear.” Azul greeted you, but his eyes were on Leona. “I see you’ve brought a guest with you this time.”

Leona didn’t respond to the obvious taunt, he simply pulled out his phone, fingers quickly gliding against the screen.

“Don’t, Ashengrotto.” You warned. “Just get us a table.”

“Why, of course, my dear.” His smile widened (you hated that smile) as he led you.

“And stop calling me ‘dear’. I’m clearly with my partner.” 

“Yes, yes.” He waved you off, gesturing at the table that he had chosen for you. “Here you are.”

The table was in the middle of the lounge. You were sure he wanted everyone to get a good view of Leona ignoring you or something. Well, this would be quite the boring show. At least, that’s what you thought, but then a large, boisterous crowd entered the lounge. You glanced at Leona, who was already looking at you with a grin.

Drinks and a show, how lovely.

“I’m sorry, but we’re currently at full capacity, so if you’d be so kind—” Azul attempted to dissuade the group from coming in any further, but—

“Nah, they’re with me.” Leona spoke up.

Azul didn’t even bother to hide the frown. “And as I said, we’re at full capacity—”

“I’ll rent the whole place out for double what it would normally be worth.”

Watching Azul debate with himself over selling out or withholding his morals was fun.

Of course, he sold out in the end when Leona offered to pay triple the price. 

Leona_Kingscholar_Official just posted

LeechTwinJade commented on Leona_Kingscholar_Official post

I’m glad to see the two of you dining together in our establishment, @The_Monstro_Lounge_Offical We hope to see the two of you again soon.

Apparently, Leona wasn’t done with the surprises because one day during lunch while you were standing in line with the other first years, he suddenly appeared, gently removing you from the group. 

“Oi! What are you doing?” Jack reflexively grabbed your arm. The lunch line was a chaotic mess, and if someone stepped out of line even accidentally, they lost their spot and had to take the walk of shame to the back of the line.

“We’re not eating in here, so let go, pup.” You could have sworn there was a bit of a growl at the end of that sentence (but maybe you were imagining it). 

“Oh?” You cut in, easing yourself from Jack. “You cooked for me or somethin’?”

“Ha!” His laugh was sharp, “Nah, you know I can’t cook—since I’m a prince and all. I ordered out.” 

Your eyes lit up. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

Of course, the little lunch date was set up in the botanical garden. It looked like he had gotten some help from the fairies that managed it with the set-up, and even to give you two some privacy. You popped a bit of your favorite dish in your mouth, almost tearing up at the burst of flavor. 

Leona_Kingscholar_Official just posted

Epple_Apel commented on Leona_Kingscholar_Official post

AND YOU COULDNT HAVE SHARED????

JackAttack commented on Leona_Kingscholar_Official post

Wow. Okay.

0rth0_2.0 commented on Leona_Kingscholar_Official post

I am very happy for the two of you! However, if something bad happens, just know that I’ll be there! :)

“Party’s here, but I’m pretty sure you ain’t here—” Ace stopped short, brain short-circuiting at what he was seeing. 

And Deuce followed suit. “Quiet as usual—huh?” 

There in the lounging in the lounge was you, Grim and Leona. But that wasn’t the weirdest part. No, the weirdest part was the fact that you were laying on top of Leona (which wasn’t all that weird) and Grim was lying on top of you (once again, not weird), but like Grim was laying on top of you who was laying on top of Leona which was weird. 

However, once Grim caught sight of them, he scrambled out of your grasp, which woke both you and Leona up. 

“Save me!” He scrambled behind Ace. “They’ve been holding me here hostage for hours now!” 

“We’ve literally been asleep for maybe an hour. What are you talking about, Grim?”

“I didn’t ask for a front row seat to all of this!” He gestured widely at the two of you before jumping onto Ace’s shoulders. “Let’s go! Before they kiss or something!”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t—OH MY GOD—EWWWW!”

You were caught off guard just as much as Deuce was. You knew Leona was cheeky, but you didn’t expect him to kiss you in front of your friends like that (not that you really minded a kiss from him). He didn’t let you go until the front door slammed shut, and when he did, you knew it was only for a moment. 

Oh well, at least you didn’t have an audience anymore.

Leona_Kingscholar_Official just posted

Call_an_Ace_an_Ace commented on Leona_Kingscholar_Official post

Y’all are literally like that one couple that everyone is rooting for, but also finds annoying. 

Double_Deuce_2 commented on Leona_Kingscholar_Official post

THIS IS THE GREAT GRIM AND I CAN CONFIRM THAT THEYRE SUPER ANNOYING

“It’s that time again, My King.”

“Time for you to say that you’re tired of me?”

You lightly slapped his arm, earning a chuckle from him. “Of course not.” You cupped his face, making it meet yours that had moved closer. “It’s time for me to remind you that I am so deeply in love with you.” 

He closed the distance, capturing your lips. “Right backatcha. I’m actually more in love with you than you are with me.” 

“So it’s a contest now?” You kissed him again. “How do we decide a winner?”

“I can think of a few ways”

“Well, the two of you are gonna have to wait until later.” Someone stopped the two of you from going any further.

Leona sighed. “Always coming in at the right moments, aren’tcha Bucchi?” 

“Shishishi…but nah, for real y’all are really gonna have to wait to do all of that later.” 

You smirked. “What? Tired of us yet, Ruggie?” 

“I wanna say, yeah, but the pay is too good, so I’ll just smile and nod.” He did neither. 

“Alright,” Leona straighten himself then pulled you into his lap. “Let’s get this over with.” 

“‘Course the two of you are gonna be difficult till the very end.” Ruggie shook his head, but begun his repot nonetheless, not like he could do anything anyway. 

The two of you wouldn’t listen to anyone, but each other, at this point. 

Now and forever. 

King_Leona_Kingscholar_Official just posted

TheRuggieBucchi commented on Leona_Kingscholar_Official post

In front of my salad? On god? I deserve a raise. 

King_Leona_Kingscholar_Official replied to TheRuggieBucchi

Get used to it.

Sunset_Savana_Sovereign_Official replied to TheRuggieBucchi

On god. And we’ll do it again. Shenan once to shenan again. 

LISTEN HERE STINK! IT MAY BE YOUR BIRTHDAY, BUT THIS

THIS WAS NOT NECESSARY

GRIM PITY?

ALL MY KEYS

GONE

AHYUK! I SEE IT!

THE DOOR TO DARKNESS

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

[danikamariewrites]

In your housewife fic you mentioned that reader helps Rhys write the latter's to other high lords so maybe one time when she's having a really bad day , like nothing is going her way and she messes up while writing and starts crying so Rhys and feyre comfort her.🥲

Mess Up

Feysand x reader

A/n: this is part of the house wife series and honestly I’m loving writing this

Warnings: angst to fluff

Nothing had been going your way today. At the market this morning they didn’t have any of the ingredients you needed for dinner so you gave up. You wanted to leave the mess that was stressing you out in the living room but you couldn’t. But then the blanket kept falling off the couch so you just threw it and stomped out of the room.

You went to find Rhys, he would make you feel better. But somehow you ended up helping him with work instead of curling up in his lap. You should’ve went to Feyre.

You were writing too fast for your brain to keep up. Rhys needed letters sent out to the other High Lords regarding the border in Spring. You knew you were writing to Kal but thought of an inside joke to add to Helion’s letter as you were writing. Without rereading the letter you sealed it, pouring the black wax and stamping it with the Night Court seal.

Handing the letter to Rhys he asked you who to address it to. You stuttered over yourself as you thought about who you just wrote to. Now you couldn’t remember if it was for Helion or Kal. You rubbed at your eyes while thinking until Rhys snapped at you a little, “y/n, who is it for. You just wrote it, it shouldn’t be this hard.”

You knew Rhys was trying to joke with you but you could hear his underlying impatience. The build up of everything going wrong today hit you, this letter being the final blow. Your shoulders started to shake and hot tears stained your finger tips as they pressed harder into your eyes.

Sniffles and sobs shake your body. Rhys quickly moves to embrace you. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to get mad. We can just open it and figure it out.” You bury your face in his tunic. Your crying got harder. Rhys picks you up bringing you over to the couch. In his mind he’s calling out for Feyre for help.

Feyre comes rushing into his office, sitting next to young and Rhys on the couch. She lightly rubs your back calmly shushing you. Rhys rocks you a little whispering sweet nothings in your ear, telling you you’re ok and that you didn’t do anything wrong. “Please talk to us sweetheart. We want to help.” He whispers desperately.

You pull away, wiping at your puffy eyes. “I’m sorry,” you croak out. “Nothing went right today and I don’t have stuff for dinner and I messed up the letter.” You sniffle some more as Rhys hands you a handkerchief to blow your nose.

“Sweetheart the letter doesn’t matter. It’s ok, I promise I can write another one.” You look up at him with those big sad eyes. “Are you sure?” Feyre pulled you on to her lap so you’re straddling her lap. She cradles your face in her soft hands, rubbing her thumbs in small circles on the apples of your cheeks.

“Listen to me y/n. Sometimes we can’t control everything that happens to us. Some days are just…out to get us. And that’s ok. I’m going to tell you what Mor told me a long time ago, don’t let the hard days win. We’re here for you and we won’t let you face hard days alone.” You give her a small smile, letting her kind words warm your heart. You were thankful Feyre reminded you that you aren’t alone. That you can always go to them with your problems.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning forward to kiss her nose. “Of course baby. How about Rhys handles the letter and you and I go get ready for dinner. You deserve to be treated to night out.” You nod excitedly and Rhys kisses your temple. “I’ll be done in a bit.” He heads back to his desk while Feyre pulls you into the hall.

“Wait, what about the living room?” Your last problem that was t solved. Feyre brushes it off with a wave of her hand. “Nyx and Cassian can build a fort with everything tonight.” You giggle at the thought of the Illyrian general taking orders from the toddler. And fitting himself into a tiny fort made of pillows and blankets.

[animentality]

Forever thinking about how Gortash tells Durge “welcome back to Baldur’s Gate — welcome home” while Durge is just ,, standing in the middle of a hallway in a fort outside the city. Like not only is Durge not even in the actual city yet, they’re also not in a house or residence of of any kind. And yes sure the city’s close enough, I guess, but still it’s “welcome home”?? Emphasis his?

What did you mean by that, Enver? Is Durge’s home wherever they’re with you or something??

I don’t know if he’s more delusional or I am bsgsfsfs

You might be delusional, but so am I, because I also wanted to scream when he said that. Because listen, the map doesn't lie, you're not in the region of Baldur's Gate, you're in a whole different map, of Rivington and the outside of Baldur's Gate. Wyrm's Rock might be in Baldur's Gate technically, but it's more like a weird segway point to Baldur's Gate.

So.

because I am insane... I choose to gnaw on the words "Welcome Home."

like...

home???

we're not in baldur's gate yet.

are you my home, enver???? are you the only true home i've ever had, more than the streets of baldur's gate, than the rotten and dilapidated temple of bhaal below, choked with its rivers of ichor, than the briny sea breeze or the grime of the lower city we both used to roam?

what do you mean, welcome home???

like man...everything he says just sounds so fruity and...warm...and it's like...he's the only person who greets the dark urge with such gusto and enthusiasm...how the hell else am i supposed to interpret that?

(not with any degree of sanity, that's for sure)

[hh0320]

໑ — stars in the ceiling. pt I

pair. solo singer! felix x fem! reader (+ mentions of hyunjin)

genre. set in the 90’s, childhood friends to strangers, moving back, struggle with fame, angst, romance, smut.

warnings. profanity, smoking, alcohol/drug abuse, use of pet names, flawed characters, harsh language at times, dark themes, unprotected sex, oral sex, dirty talk, mental health issues.

word count. 6.2k

a/n. hi my loves! this is going to be a mini series, though i’m still not sure how many parts it will contain. nevertheless, pls treat this idea kindly, and don’t judge its characters too hard, they’ve gone through a lot. feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated and will be replied to! enjoy xx

‘Felix will be going back to Australia for a much needed break, sources close to him reveal. The twenty-three year old alt rock singer just concluded his second world tour, Doll, earlier this week in Los Angeles, with news of his breakup with supermodel Hwang Hyunjin coming out at the same time.

The two had been dating since the Aussie’s rise to fame in 1994.’

New South Wales had remained the same, despite the unshakeable change in Felix’s chest. Barina Road had the same houses standing, fifty-year-old trees stretching, widening into the sky, hiding his parent’s garage from view, the stairs leading up to the front door. He’d paid off the mortgage, bought them a new car.

The sun was beaming, February in full display. His manager greeted his mom, and introduced his assistant, explaining they would be staying at a hotel not too far from there. His father had a beard now, his sister looked taller, and wore glasses.

Your house was around the corner. He could see the rose bushes along the hill, the white shutters with the black outlines. Felix could close his eyes and go back to your room, 1992, the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling, The Cure and The Smiths’ posters on pastel pink walls, lace trimming on your sheets, makeshift forts and flashlights at midnight, notebooks with hearts drawn on folded ends, his name and yours written next to each other, hand over hand. ‘Girl Afraid’ playing softly through a cassette in a beat down radio. Your dad’s homemade chocolate chip cookies, and the determination that rushed through Felix’s veins the moment he tasted them, the promise he’d made to himself to make those same cookies for you one day, to learn how.

He never did. His demo got picked up from a record label that would later refer him to the one he belongs to now, and he had to fly out to Melbourne right before your eighteenth birthday. From then on it’s been a shooting star.

He blinks to find his mother teary eyed, arms open. He doesn’t walk—he runs. Washed out silvery blonde locks long enough to be pulled in a ponytail, brown eyes the color of wild thyme honey, hands tired, heart broken. A boy coming home is a very old story, one that will never stop being written. And even though it feels strange to be back after five years of palm trees, everything and nothing—Hollywood, with its golden gates and trophies and nightmare people— it is exactly what he needed. It’s where he has to be.

“You look so tired, baby, so frail,” his mom sobs, pressing her mouth on his temple. “Did no one take care of you? Did no one care?”

Felix didn’t answer. He brought chocolates and clothes for his sisters, jewelry for his mother, Cuban cigars for his father, and his first ever Grammy for you, because none of this would’ve been possible if you hadn’t befriended him all those years ago in the playground. If your voice hadn’t guided him away from those swings and into the forest. If he hadn’t played hide and seek with the girl that wore ribbons in her hair, dark cherries for eyes. And what does he say knowing this?

I left behind the one person that did. That mattered that it did. And when I found something similar, I couldn’t hold it in my hands, I couldn’t get close to it no matter how much I tried.

“I missed you, mom,” he mumbles instead, and grinds his teeth to keep from crying. “I should’ve called more. I should’ve visited.”

The shorter woman sniffles and rubs her son’s back soothingly, shushing him only a mother knows how to. He breathes in her familiar scent, her cooking imprinted on her purple shirt, and smiles sadly. Hyunjin would’ve loved her; he wanted to meet her the most, wanted to hear all the stories when they were in bed together, what few times they were both sober, capable of adventure and conversation till the early hours of the next day. “I never had a mom,” he’d tell him, brown strands of hair escaping his staple bun. “Cherish your mom for me, Yongbokie. Love her terribly.”

“Come inside,” she tells him, waving away the rest. “Stay forever if you need to.”

“It means happiness,” he’d explained on that first meeting with the boy shining more brightly than the chandelier lighting the entire theater. “Yongbok.”

The boy had smiled and it’d made all the difference. His lips reminded Felix of black cherries, of the girl in the room with the window overlooking the trees. “I know what it means. It’s about time I met you.”

Time away from chaos felt empty. The hours passed by slowly, serenity made him paranoid, like it couldn’t possibly last, even there, in a different continent, across the globe. Getting on an airplane didn’t guarantee you’d get away, he realized soon enough. It wasn’t possible, because you can’t outrun yourself.

And it was that Felix was trying to escape. How known he’d become, how aware of his own shadow he was. At first, he’d thought of it as a mountain to climb, something to be achieved, and then something else. It was a ladder leading up, up, up and nowhere specific, but he climbed it anyway. The little prize in his hands was the ultimate show, that one last thing he had to do that would grant him access to more of the same everything and nothing everyone else seemed to be so desperately after. After he’d won it, the decision to leave it all behind became clearer than ever.

A lot of the people he admired had died. And it didn’t matter which way you looked, destruction came in the form of white powder, accompanied by a spoon or a syringe if you were brave enough and had much to lose. “Take your pick, there’s many ways to kill yourself,” a girl had told him once at an afterparty. Young and impressionable as he was he chose by what he saw and picked up the bottle of champagne in front of him. The least harmful, he’d thought. But the sneakiest one of all. And then he saw Hyunjin smoking cigarettes after one of his fashion shows, and thought to try that too. Then it felt like something they could share, so Felix kept smoking until the cough subsided and his fingers smelled of tobacco. 

One thing the model never tried to do was shield him from the horrible ways of the industry, and the blonde still can’t find it in himself to castrate him for it. Now, so many thousands of miles away as he was, the habits seemed to follow, like supportive friends. The world is a fucked up place, but it doesn’t seem so bad from where he sits on the rooftop of his childhood house. He could drop the stick from his hand, or break the golden trophy and even deny the existence of evil altogether.

How easy, how vulnerable fame is. You could be no one in particular if you made all the right choices. Felix wasn’t sure why he seemed to do the opposite, walk the other way, the reason for his selective blindness. When something shiny has your name on it you hold it close to your chest and sing to it. It’s precious because it reflects light off it.

Until when?

Your light was on. 

He looked for it, looked for a car coming up the hill, watched the sun set, the blending of colors, how majestic it can all get before it fades to black, but you showed up right in the blue of it. You still drove the same Jeep your dad had gifted you for graduation, but your hair was longer, you’d grown a bit. Felix saw how your white dress danced in the summer breeze, ran his eyes down your tanned legs as you walked from your driveway inside your house, and finally, about ten minutes after that, the light through your curtains.

His mother hadn’t mentioned he was back.

He smiles down at his burning cigarette. How would he ever face you with the way he left? He never called, only wrote to you on your birthday, and released a song about a starry girl that visited his dreams, knowing very well that girl waited for him for years to return, even if just for a little while. The guilt of never doing so, and instead loving someone else so all consumingly, while that same song went on to become his best selling single, the song he’d be known for for years to come? It crippled him.

He never wanted to see your face stare back at him. He would rather die, and he admits this to himself bravely. You were his first girl, his only girl. No one would ever come close to you, because you’re clean—you have his innocence, his first time, before he knew anything about anything, and how despite it, he loved you stupidly, earnestly, because it made sense, because it felt right.

“Starry girl, will you burn bright, for me tonight? Oh, will you stay a little while, darling girl…”

How hypocritical. If Chan was around he’d be calling him out, or pushing him down the fucking roof. Felix wouldn’t even mention the broken leg or the dislocated shoulder, because it’d serve him right. Perhaps he needs a solid reminder of his aliveness, of how doing wrong by someone and paying for it feels like. La La Land doesn’t have that, it couldn’t possibly understand that. There, people look up and never down. There, they would push, and keep pushing; they would climb over, step on your neck, tear you apart at the seams for a chance to just keep.looking.up. That climb is all there is.

It’s empty too, but you learn how to miss it.

Felix thinks he might’ve sold his fucking soul, somehow, because as he gets back in the house, his mind won’t stop screaming for him to run away from there as well.

Not a place that could hold someone that’s had everything and then more of it.

Chan hates his guts twice as much as you possibly ever could, but Felix calls him anyway.

“Hello?”

“Chris. It’s me.”

A long pause. The singer falters, thinks he’s made a mistake, curses himself for ever thinking anyone would want anything to do with him after—

“You’re a fucking cunt, Felix, and I hope you burn in Hell. Sincerely.” The blonde nods, his chest tight, his throat dry. “How are you?”

He smiles. “Terrible. Fucking awful, mate, thanks for asking.”

“Good.”

“I’m in Australia.”

“Son of a bitch.”

Your white dress flows in his dreams. It folds and stretches like the wings of a butterfly. The pages of his journal stare at him, his eyes heavy with sleep, but for once nothing pours out. He thinks he’s meant to keep that to himself, and perhaps that’s okay.

Instead he writes about a broken boy that smiles for the cameras but never for his love.

His older sister works as an intern for a law firm. He didn’t know that, because he never asked. The sting of it burns all the same.

She has a fiance, is preparing to buy a house, and tells him of his mom’s sickness at a private restaurant. He didn’t know that either, but in all fairness, as his sister pointed out, no one is supposed to know. At least not yet. It’s treatable, she quickly adds, but it’s been eating her from the inside out for a couple years now. She tells him this with a straight face, probably because she’s had time to sit with it, but also because Rachel is great at keeping her feelings in check, when she knows someone else isn’t—Felix definitely fucking isn’t.

What was the saying? The artist is haunted by his own heart? Day and night. There’s never an escape, it seems, from anything.

“Tell me what I need to do,” he pleads after he calms down. “Money is not a problem.”

The older sibling grimaces at that. “It’s not about that, Lix. She has medication, she never misses a doctor’s appointment. Her body is weak.”

“She’s not dying.”

“It’s not something we can exactly stop because we want to.”

Felix clenches his fists on the table, and looks at his sister straight on. “She’s not dying.”

Rachel wipes her mouth and sips from her wine, alerting the waiter for the check. People are starting to stare. No matter where they go, eyes follow her little brother incessantly, whichever measures they take. It’s a lifestyle she cannot comprehend.

Felix doesn’t seem to notice, or care. It’s a strange thing, like a zoo animal being at peace with its captivity, despite its true nature.

“Maybe not now,” she replies softly. “But we all must face this one impending doom sooner or later, Lix. Even you. Even our mom. Death is a natural thing.”

Most people run from the inevitable, because it’s scary. Somehow, it’s believed that the end, too, could be overturned if we stall it, or cheat it. Felix never thought he’d have to worry about it, because of the invisibility of youth, and money, and having everything else at his beck and call. It was only when Kurt Cobain and Jeff Buckley died that he was touched by the cruelty of it, the dark shadows and the claws attacking through them any moving thing, at any given time. Even legends passed, even history.

It was because life was so impossibly fleeting, water held with two hands, that he decided to knock on your door. In a single moment of liquid luck, he wished to see the stars in your ceiling again. To feel the warmth of your skin near his. Chan would shake his head and call him an idiot for it, but Felix never claimed to be reasonable. Or smart.

No other car was in your driveway.

God, his blood is rushing. You’d open the door and then what? What would he say?

He didn’t want his mom to die. He didn’t want you to hate him forever. He came back with a false sense of ego—no one gave a flying fuck if he was famous, or best friends with Hope Sandoval and Chris Cornell, hell, even Jesus Christ himself. None of it mattered outside of the bubble he’d created for himself in America. He’s not from there. These people would follow him nowhere.

He feels stranded and alone, and it’s entitled and pathetic, and he’s fucking terrified.

Who is he besides his name and his money? Why does it matter so much?

The door opens. He’s holding his breath.

You gape. Then blink.

Another moment passes. He has to say something. Goddamnit, anything!

“(Y/N).”

You seem to snap out of it, then. As if you realize it’s, indeed, not a dream. Felix is really standing right in front of you, blonde hair, round honey eyes, constellations on his cheeks as prominent as ever.

It’s confusion you feel more than anything else. Anger has long passed.

“How long have you been here?” is the first thing you ask him, and you’re still not allowing him inside.

He doesn’t expect you to.

“On your doorstep? An hour.”

You blink again, and lean forward, surprised. He thinks that must not be what you asked him. His ears burn. Your chest rises and falls deeply.

“In Australia, Lix,” you elaborate, but he focuses on the way your voice sounds like saying his childhood nickname, a silly little thing that stuck and makes him feel eight all over again.

You’d fallen in the rose bushes with your bike, the thorns pricking your arms, and you’d called out for him, crying. Lix, Lix, Lix… The sweetest sound, a person worthy to help you. A different time. He’d spent the rest of his afternoon picking thorns out of your skin and tending to your cuts with his mom. Afterwards, you watched Home Alone 2: Lost in New York and ate a bowl full of caramel popcorn. His dad dropped you off, and Felix had insisted on sticking his head out of his bedroom window to shout a final goodnight to you.

You’d done the same, laughing. His bestest friend in the whole world.

He didn’t feel like that person anymore. He didn’t feel like anything anymore. Just a name, just a body.

“Fourteen days,” he replies, and he’s ashamed of it, because it should’ve been easier to come to you. It should’ve never been difficult, not with you. 

It was you, for fuck’s sake.

And then you ask him the one thing he has no answer to.

“Are you okay?”

You move for him to enter. It’s what he wanted, but his legs have no strength in them, he’s unable to lift them. He just stands in front of you, staring in those eyes he’s wanted to look into for so long, and it reminds him of all the times he laid in hotel beds trying to bring forward his memories of your features, writing them all down so he doesn’t forget. He wrote those songs to remember you, is what he wants to tell you, but he can’t, because it’d make him a coward, and he doesn’t think he can handle anymore truths tonight.

They call him an angel because of his face, but you’re the angelic one, you’ve always been, because there’s forgiveness in your tone. There’s warmth for him in you still, and it takes everything in him not to sweep you in his arms and cry out for you, for your heart.

He wants to tell you about Hyunjin, too, about his garden and his flowers. He wants to tell you he named one after you, the most beautiful. He kept that for himself as well.

Instead—

“I wanted to watch the stars on your ceiling.”

The possibility that you might’ve taken them down is devastating. He hopes inevitably.

His voice sounds rough, and the bags under his eyes are more pronounced than ever. You’ve never seen Felix like that, he looked so sickly. Paper thin, too. You wonder if that life over there caught up to him, if he allowed it to wash over everything you loved about him. He’s such a stripped down, quiet version of him right now, in front of you.

“I’ll make some milkshakes,” you nod towards the kitchen.

He finally lifts one leg, then the other. He enters, his heart dusting off, kickstarting.

They still taste the same. The furniture is the same, the pictures of him and you and your siblings are still on the wall. You haven’t erased him, you didn’t scorn him. It means everything to him.

It’s easier to find yourself if someone already knows who you are. If they’ve kept that image of you, and look at it from time to time. Felix never sees himself in photos, never actively seeks himself out. He just gives, and gives, and gives, hoping it’s enough, hoping that’s it, the one, we got it, thank you very much.

Perhaps it’s why he feels so drained nowadays. Perhaps that’s how Hyunjin felt.

“How are your parents?” he asks, hoping to make conversation, hoping to hear more of that voice he’s missed so fucking much.

You round the kitchen island, strawberry shake in hand, and sit right next to him, knee brushing his. Your legs are bare again, smooth. You’re wearing an olive green skirt and an oversized T-shirt. You look beautiful. You, the starry girl. You, the darling girl. You, the only version of girl he’s had in his mind since the dawn of time. Ring pop in the fifth grade, backyard wedding with a veil and all. His mother had cried, yours had baked the cake. His sister had married you.

There’s a question in your eyes now.

“They’re fine. Out celebrating their thirtieth anniversary or something crazy like that.”

It’s a wild thing, the laugh that escapes him. It stretches his face and curves his lips. It surprises both of you. He quickly looks at his chocolate milkshake, at the half eaten whipped cream at the top. He hears your soft exhale, the straw between your teeth.

“Good for them,” he says after a beat, and he means it.

“You…” Felix doesn’t dare look. He won’t. Your counter is marble, there are fresh lilies on top of it. “Are you staying a while?”

He nods. Struggles to swallow.

Then you sigh. The pretenses are down. He stiffens, wraps his fingers tighter around the glass. He braces, but he doesn’t know for what. Anything, he supposes. You could say anything, ask anything.

He just doesn’t know if he has any answers for you.

“Congrats on that Grammy,” you bump him with your elbow, your tone light. His eyes rise slightly to meet yours. You’re smiling.

He wants nothing more than to fall apart, right there. He doesn’t deserve any of it.

“It’s yours,” he mutters. “I was going to give it to you.”

“Me?” you ask incredulously. “It’s your song, Lix.”

He shakes his head once. “But it’s for you. I’d be nothing without you.”

The room goes silent. Felix thinks he’s done it, he’s said the wrong thing, pushed too much, you’re going to kick him out, once and for all, and he’s going to have to look at you from his rooftop for the rest of his stay, he’s going to have to live with himself, whatever’s left, whatever’s there, never to hear your voice, never a third chance—

“Do you usually say intense things like that?” You huff out a breath, and his own gets stuck in his throat. “I’m— No one’s ever said that to me before, Lix. Don’t just say stuff like that.”

Suddenly, six years have passed, and you’re both adults. Felix has had a whole other life, has met thousands and thousands of people, is a celebrity of great importance, a Grammy winner, a million seller, with more money than he will ever need, this unbelievable thing has happened to him, a dream, a fucking rainbow bubble, and you’ve stayed here.

You’re still the same. And you don’t think that’s worth mentioning. Worth praising. He wants to shake you awake, make you see why he’s dead inside, why he’s come back, why he’s lost his fucking mind.

“I’ve never lied to you,” he replies, his gaze meeting yours. “If I’d never met you, I would have never gone to America. I would’ve never left.”

Somehow, you’ve become a curse and a miracle. 

“Let’s go see the stars, Felix.”

Your room is the exact same, too. Not a single damn thing moved, the lace on your bed, the pink all around, the fairy lights by your window, the pictures above your desk, and then finally, if he lifts his head—

The hundreds of tiny stars sprinkled on your entire ceiling. Your dad had stuck them up there for you, after you’d gone to their bed crying, afraid of the dark and the storm outside. Now, with the lights off, you didn’t seem afraid anymore, but more so melancholic. It felt unreal to stand in this room with you. 

First time he’d made love to you was on that bed. First sleepover, first fort, first kiss, first song ever written.

He didn’t even realize he’d been crying, not until he felt your fingers wipe the wetness away, your hand slipping in his, pulling him towards the mattress. Before coming back, he didn’t have a bed of his own. Hotel’s have been temporary homes for him, the tour bus his sleepovers.

His chest hurt, his sadness so heavy it pulled him down. There was no fight left in him, no other reason not to fall on that bed with you, lay next to you just like all those years before.

They shone neon green, alien little stars where they didn’t belong. Like him. He blinked up at them and they greeted him every time. He held your hand tightly on his own, his vision blurry, shoulders touching yours. If it was hot, Felix couldn’t tell. His heartbeat was deafening, the magnitude of the moment swallowing him whole.

No matter what he did, what had happened, you took his hand and showed him the stars of his childhood. There’s no words to describe what that had felt like for someone like him, someone that had once been something entirely different, and had somehow reduced himself down to this, whatever it was.

Three versions of oneself is two versions too many. He hates himself for what he’s done.

“Are you okay, Lix?” you ask once more, nothing but a mere whisper, but he hears you.

He thinks he might even have an answer for you.

“I don’t think so, beautiful girl. I think I’ve made a mistake.”

“What do you mean?”

Felix sighs, puts an arm over his eyes. It’s enough, what he saw. It’s enough for a lifetime.

“Leaving you behind. Giving all of me away. Falling in love with a broken boy thinking I’ll be able to fix him. I can’t fix anyone, (Y/N). I can’t even fix my fucking self.”

You nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck. The connection is still there, the tension in his gut. He’d love nothing more than to get you naked and have you whisper his name back, over and over, until he gets some sort of sense of reality back. But it wouldn’t be fair to you. He doesn’t even know if you’re single.

“No one’s holding anything over your head, Lix. Forgive yourself before it’s too late,” you mumble against his skin, raising goosebumps all over. Then you continue, “I’d be lying if I said I don’t still hate you sometimes. You’re going to leave again, anyway. It doesn’t matter.”

He turns to that immediately. Places a palm over your cheek and makes you look at him.

“It does matter. I don’t want you to hate me. I fucked up and I’ll regret it my whole life. There’s no amount of sorry’s I can say to you, sweet girl, that’ll make it all better. I know that. But I don’t want you to hate me.”

Quiet. Your pulse against his thigh. “You left.”

“I did.”

“That hurt me. All of us.”

Felix nodded, again and again. One truth harsher than the other. “I know.”

“To go fuck some model in New York and sing your little heart out to people that’ll never know who you truly are and how much you matter.”

There it was. The sacrifice of it all. Has it been worth it? Yes and no. Mostly no.

His lips curved with bitterness. “Yes,” he rasped.

“But now your songs are out there. Your beautiful voice is recognized.”

“Thank you.”

You buried your face in the mattress, crying onto strawberry sheets. He turned his body towards you, fingers tangling in your hair.

“You sold your own name.”

Dying would be less painful than you speaking all of his fears and wrong decisions outloud, in the one place untouched by misery.

“And I pay for that every day.”

“You’re not happy.”

He smiles when you search for his eyes. There are crystals on your cheeks, the cosmos hanging from your lips. “Not particularly, starry girl,” he retorts sadly.

“I’m not happy, either. What’s the point, then?”

It tore at him to know this. He imagined you were when he was far away. That you’d put him behind you, and continued on with your life, shining just as brightly as you always had. Lies are always easier in the moment. Just enough to get you through to the next. But never long term.

“Come with me,” he whispers in your hair. “See for yourself.”

“And get lost, too?” you snap back.

He shut his eyes tight, bit his tongue to lessen the blow. “Three months. I want to take you with me.”

“To the City of Angels.” A lyric of his, coming from your mouth. His heart leaped, and blossomed. You listen to his music. The music he’s written for you.

“You’ll fit right in,” he finishes, leaning into you. “You’ll find many like you, none like you.”

He felt your hesitancy, the need to pull away. He would do it for you, if he wasn’t so completely under your spell, willing to do anything for one more taste of you. Years in a place where he’s had to learn to get his way, have made him somewhat persuasive, a trait he’s not proud of, like many others.

The only girl he’s ever truly wanted is you. Burn him alive, then.

“God, I’m about to make a mistake,” you mutter before his mouth takes yours.

Hyunjin had asked about you. He wanted to know who you were, why you still had such a hold on him. Hyunjin had been possessive and jealous and sensitive with Felix. He felt deeply, loved deeply, and was very stubborn. He loved getting his way. The blonde tried to love him, gave him all he had, obliged to his every request, but ultimately—

Whatever was wrong with him ran too deep. It was impossible to love someone like him, yet so easy to fall, so easy to lose yourself. They’d done some work together, traveled to Paris and visited art museums. Hyunjin was a magnificent artist, a lonely soul. Felix could recognize that in him and still admit it was scary to be around him, scary in the way a rope feels under your bare feet, no ground underneath, no sense of security.

They broke up on a bench outside Sacré-Cœur, the decision to go back to Australia for an indefinite amount of time being too much for the model. There was still love there, there’d always be. Hyunjin taught him about the life he’d entered, how to navigate through it, to get what you want, and how to love unconditionally, how to become a slave for love, to seek it and to breathe it, and to feel it deep in your gut, with everything in you.

But it shouldn’t feel like that. It shouldn’t be all encompassing, choking, tying. It should feel like freedom, and this much Felix knew, because he’d felt it before.

Undressing you right now felt like that, the pearly gates welcoming him, the wings growing in his back. A map outlined but not quite yet explored, though he plans to change that. If you accept. If you agree to his proposal. His hands caress, his mouth following the fabric leaving your body, your breast, down to your stomach, your navel, your hip bone. 

He pulls your skirt down, revealing cotton, and lays you gently back down, his own body over yours, hiding you from view. Your fingers unzip and push, and Felix removes his shirt for you. He knows he’s not much to look at, but there’s lean muscle and a solid chest where you touch, making heat bloom right under your fingertips. He could write odes about how soft your skin is, how tender you’re treating him, as if he never left, as if he’s never done wrong by you, and for a minute he pretends.

Then your hand wraps around his cock and he loses all restrain.

“You can’t possibly be real, my girl, are you?” he mumbles against your cunt, before he hooks his arms underneath your legs and digs right into your wetness.

You moan and writhe, and he never complies. He holds you tighter, keeps you in place and has his way with you until you’re begging him to stop, crying for him to keep going, nails digging into his scalp, his shoulders, anywhere you can reach. Felix hasn’t eaten pussy in six months, hasn’t had yours in over five years, and he’s not about to give it up for anything in the fucking world. 

His tongue laps, it fucks you slowly, it makes sure to get you proper wet for him, his lips slurping on your clit afterwards, finding a pattern you seem to enjoy, sucking to bring your orgasm forward and licking to settle you down, to tease you, until finally you have enough of it, and you come all over his mouth, breathlessly, your thighs trapping his head between your legs.

“Just for me, for me, for me…” he repeats peppering kisses all over you, his arms pushing him up towards your mouth, meeting you halfway for an open mouthed kiss. “Will you come?” he asks, pumping his cock in his fist, aligning it with your entrance. “My sweet fucking girl, will you come?”

“I have,” you say, hiding your face in embarrassment. “I did.”

“Let me look at you,” as he pushes in. “Let me see you, baby.”

His hips start moving, his cock reaching deep inside you, the stretch incredible. He needs you near, closer, so he lifts you up and repositions himself, having you sit on him, fucking yourself on him how you like. You find a rhythm as he wraps himself around you, kissing your breast, sucking on your nipples, tugging at the ends of your hair. Anything he can touch, all for you. Your voice breaks, his name cut in half, and he thinks he likes it best like that, not one thing but two, muttered by you, the death of him once and for all.

“Will you come with me to California?” he asks again, clearer this time. “Will you let me have you like this under their sun?”

“Lix…” you collapse as he takes charge, pistoling up into your soaking cunt, his cock so deep inside, so fucking good. “Fuck, please. Just please.”

“You need to tell me,” he groans. “I need to know. You need to tell me.”

He pushes you forward again, not once unsticking you from himself, and fucks you into the mattress, hard and fast. He’s after your high, he needs to see you, needs to witness you fall apart because of him, the same way he does for you, his muse, his girl, under your stars. You kiss him and hold him near, sharing his breath, his chest rapidly falling and rising, cock ready to burst, heart ready to explode, and you’re near too, he can feel it in his gut, he can see how your back arches, how your breath hitches, how your eyes open wide, head thrown back—

“That’s it, there it is, do it. Do it, beautiful, come for me, come on, let me feel you, God, fuck—I’ll bust, too, I’ll—”

“Inside,” you moan, shaking in his arms. “Inside me.”

Felix growls and does as you say, fingers digging into your waist, cock buried, and his head falls on your stomach. He’s pretty sure he’s having a heart attack, but nothing matters. You’re underneath him, naked. You still love him. You haven’t said it but you don’t have to; he can feel it, he can feel it like his own pulse.

He fucks you through the ripples of your orgasm, and then he pulls out, kissing your temple, your breast on his chest. Whatever dreams are made out of, he’s convinced you’re it. His dream, a girl just for him, a girl he could pick out blindfolded from a crowd of thousands. He would always come back to you, because there’s simply no beginning to him if you’re not part of it.

And no end if you don’t come with him.

“Don’t be afraid to tell me no,” he whispers into the dark, the stars staring back. “I’ll understand. I’ll make it work, there’s no question about it. Not anymore.”

You’re quiet for a long time, but your lips kiss his jaw, his neck, his ear. He holds onto sanity because of that. Because he’s lying through his teeth, for the first time. He won’t understand. If you don’t come, he’s not sure he’ll be able to carry on with this persona he’s built. It will destroy him, take him down under.

That he’s sure of.

But he thinks of your precious heart. What it would be like to leave it all behind.

“I’ll come,” you say incredibly small, almost inaudible. “I’ll come if you want me there.”

Felix closes his eyes, relief washing over him. No more suffering, endless tossing and turning. He could finally have a life, maybe buy some property, make a house out of you. With you. With you. It sounded unachievable. A wish unable to be granted. Merely anything.

You’re breathing it all back to him.

“I need you there, starry girl. I love you.”

He feels you nod, but you don’t say it back. It cuts through him, but he understands. He doesn’t need to hear it, despite how desperate he is for it. It pours out of you, it started when you opened the door, and it continues to pour out now, with his cum gushing out of your cunt, your arm hugging him tightly, afraid to let go.

“Three months,” you say. “Please don’t make me regret it, Lix.”

tags. @ughbehavior, @cb97percent, @streetlight-s, @j-0ne25.

[butterflies-and-bumble-bees]

I'm sorry but WHO DID DAN AND PHIL HIRE TO SET UP THE ORDER OF THEIR TOUR SHOWS!?!?!?!?!

I'm sorry but this is just blatant ignorence of basic geography

OCT 06 SEATTLE, WA / Moore Theatre

OCT 07 *NEW DATE* SEATTLE, WA / Moore Theatre

OCT 08 PORTLAND, OR / Arlene Schnitzer Auditorium

OCT 09 VANCOUVER, BC / Orpheum Theatre

OCT 11 OAKLAND, CA / Paramount Theatre

OCT 13 PHOENIX, AZ / Celebrity Theatre

OCT 17 SAN DIEGO, CA / Civic Theatre

OCT 18 LOS ANGELES, CA / Peacock Theater

OCT 20 SALT LAKE CITY, UT / The Union

OCT 21 DENVER, CO / Ellie Caulkins Opera House

OCT 23 KANSAS CITY, MO / The Midland

OCT 24 GRAND PRAIRIE, TX / Texas Trust Theatre

OCT 25 AUSTIN, TX / Bass Concert Hall

OCT 27 ST. LOUIS, MO / The Factory

OCT 28 DETROIT, MI / Masonic Temple

OCT 29 AKRON, OH / Civic Theatre

OCT 30 INDIANAPOLIS, IN / Clowes Memorial Hall

NOV 01 MILWAUKEE, WI / Riverside Theater

NOV 02 MINNEAPOLIS, MN / State Theatre

NOV 03 CHICAGO, IL / Chicago Theatre

NOV 05 TORONTO, ON / Massey Hall

NOV 08 PHILADELPHIA, PA / Miller Theater

NOV 10 NEW YORK, NY / Kings Theatre

NOV 11 TYSONS, VA / Capital One Hall

NOV 12 *NEW DATE* TYSONS, VA / Capital One Hall

NOV 14 ATLANTA, GA / Cobb Energy PAC

NOV 16 TAMPA, FL / Tampa Theatre

NOV 17 ORLANDO, FL / Hard Rock Live

NOV 18 FORT LAUDERDALE, FL / The Parker

NOV 20 DURHAM, NC / DPAC

NOV 21 NASHVILLE, TN / Andrew Jackson Hall

NOV 24 BOSTON, MA / Wang Theatre

NOV 25 READING, PA / Santander PAC

NOV 26 RED BANK, NJ / Count Basie

tldr: they go from pennsylvania to ny to virginia to Georgia to Florida to North Carolina to Tennesse to Massachusets and then back to Pennsylvania and the mental map in my head just gave me an overload error

[erogenousmind]

Ray Gun

“I keep telling you, it’s not a ray gun. I don’t even know what a ray gun is. The elliptic dish is designed to focus the right frequency range of delta waves, but in general, once the network is trained, you don’t even need the dish. Due to the inverse square law for...you know what, never mind. Just sit for a few more minutes while it finishes collecting data.”

Dr. Gehirn looked every bit the mad scientist with his long white lab coat and disheveled hair. Charlotte, for her, part, made the perfect co-ed victim, her long blonde hair and ditzy smile belying her status as an honors student. Electrical engineering and computer science had never been her forte though, so she had been happily quizzing the doctor about his latest experiment even as she participated in it.

“Oh, that’s what these doohickeys are doing, right?” she pointed a manicured and painted fingernail up toward her temple and to one of the electrodes stuck to it with a dot of conducting gel. “That’s so you can read all my brainwaves and stuff, right?”

The doctor sighed. She would be worth it at least, even as tedious as this part was. Despite appearances, she was smart and capable, and, more importantly, trusting. Even if somehow it didn’t work, she would go on her way, none the wiser, not suspecting a thing. “That’s right, Charlotte. Although, they really just make it easier to record. Brainwaves can be picked up from quite a distance, particularly if you know what you are looking for. And in just another moment,” he glanced over to a monitor filled with various windows of numbers and wave forms. “we’ll know exactly what we are looking for.” Another torrent of numbers printed onto the screen. “There we are. The network has now been tuned to your particular brainwave spectrum.”

“Oh neat! So it can like, read my thoughts?” Charlotte bubbled.

“Something like that. But more interesting to my research is the inverse problem. It should actually be able to predict what causes your thoughts. It just needs to validate first. One moment.” The doctor typed furiously for a second, finishing with an overly dramatic stab at the enter key. “This might feel a little odd. You might even feel some strange emotions or feel like thoughts are popping into your head that have no place there. That’s okay. The network is still just learning.”

“So are you making an artificial intelligence thing or something? Oh, is it going to try to act like me or think like me or something? It’d be like I had a twin or something, only it’s a computer. That would be...woa...woah...that’s...um...” Charlotte rocked unsteadily in her seat, a look of concern crossing her face for the first time.

“It’s an artificial neural network, not AI. Everyone confuses them, but it really just a matter of multiplying...ugh, forget it. I’m sorry, my dear, if this is a little unpleasant. It’s just confirming that it can generate the right emotional or mental state based on an electromagnetic input, and it’s quickly cycling through several of them, which must be quite disconcerting. It will pass quickly, I promise.”

“I...I don’t know how I feel. I’m angry for a moment, then excited, then I feel like I want to laugh...it...I don’t think I like it. I think I want it to stop.” She started to reach up toward one of the wires dangling from her head.

“I told you, those are just sensors. The signal is being generated here. We probably don’t even need the contact probes anymore. But there, it all seems to be working correctly. Now the intensity check. How are you feeling right...now?”

Charlotte paused, her hand dangling in the air, looking lost in thought. “I feel...calm...really calm. Just relaxed.” Her hand slowly dropped back down to her side. “Like everything is fine. I thought I should be nervous because you keep messing with my thoughts and some of them felt...strange. But none of that matters right now. I feel happy...content...”

“Very good. And now?” he asked, tapping away at the keyboard.”

“I’m...scared. I’m more scared than I’ve ever been. I still feel so calm though. Passive...But you can mess with my head. You can make me feel what you want with that thing. You were giving me thoughts earlier...and now I’m feeling angry. I feel like you tricked me. You lured me here to mess with my head and I hate you for it. I feel like I want to hurt you...

“It’s so amazing that you were able to make a ray gun that can control my emotions like this. You are so incredibly brilliant. And it’s such an honor that you are testing it on me first. It was my mind you wanted to control first and that’s so exciting...that’s so...hot...mmm....those thoughts you were given me earlier. I don’t think I was supposed to notice them with everything else going on. But I could see myself...with you. I was on my knees looking up at you, and you were so...” Charlotte groaned as she rubbed her thighs together.

The doctor smiled at his subject. “You are doing so well. Thank you for talking through what you were thinking and feeling. You are very perceptive. This...ray gun...is able to control your feelings now. And it can give you thoughts. It knows your mind well enough to give exactly the stimulus to produce whatever response it wants with...” He took the mouse and flicked the scroll wheel over one of the many windows showing row after row of inscrutable numbers. “ 97.4% accuracy. That can probably get a little higher with some more data. But it is certainly good enough for our purposes today. Because you want this now, don’t you? You want me to control your thoughts. You want me to control you. It excites you, doesn’t it?”

The heat between Charlotte’s legs had been building the whole time he spoke. He seemed so powerful to her now. So intelligent and commanding and incredible. Who wouldn’t want to let him think for them? “Yes! More than anything. Use your ray gun on me. Decide what I think. Decide what I feel. Decide who I am. Take my mind! Use it! Or just tell me what to do. Tell me what to think. You don’t even need your invention. Control me. Take me! It makes me so hot. Make me yours. Own me forever!”

Dr. Gehirn chuckled softly. “Quite the response. I wonder how much of this is my doing and how much we just awakened something inside of you. No matter. There may be a small issue with the ‘forever’ you just mentioned. It will take much more research, but it isn’t clear at all that these effects last much longer than stimuli are being input into your delta band. Given some time, your brain will probably resume it’s original thought patterns with no more than a memory of how you behaved.”

Charlotte was heartbroken. She hadn’t known it 5 minutes ago, but it was so clear to her now that she wanted nothing more than to be this man’s slave. To give her mind and body to him. To be his plaything. His property. His toy. She felt like she could cry.

“Oh no, none of that. There is another possibility. You see, the longer your thoughts are entrained by the signal, the harder it gets to snap back. Little by little, you forget to think on your own. Left long enough, your mind would willingly think whatever it was told and forget it ever came up with any thoughts on its own. Then I could put whatever I wanted in that pretty little head of yours, and it would never occur to you to think anything different. How does that sound?”

Tears were beginning to well up in Charlotte’s eyes now. How did it sound? She couldn’t imagine anything making her happier. She was too emotional to speak. She nodded her head vigorously.

“Good girl.” He smiled the warmest smile at her and she felt herself melt on the spot. “This might feel a little like going to sleep. We are going to gradually withdraw the signal until your mind is doing nothing at all and then slowly and steadily begin putting thoughts into your head. They might feel like dreams but more vivid...more intense, more...permanent.” He clicked his mouse a few times and, pausing for a moment to look her up and down again, pressed a single key.

“And now your ray gun will work on me forever?” Charlotte asked, a smile growing and growing on her face. “You can control my thoughts for good?”

Doctor Gehirn nodded. “That’s right, Charlotte.” Her eyes slowly grew wider. Her mouth fell open. Another moment passed and her eyes rolled back, fluttering as new ideas and a new self were written into her mind. “And the first thing we are going to do is teach you the proper technical name for this device.”

Her legs fell open as her body relaxed more and the doctor noticed just how excited the experiment had made her. “Well...maybe the second thing.”

[dwarfbehavior]

Minedived status update, year 254 (4 years old).

Turns out "surrounding lands" means nothing.

Nothing for miles except goblins and pissed off goblins. Even the nearby caves are empty. There is a kind of close cave with <10 dwarves, which coincidentally are the only dwarves I've seen anywhere on the overworld so idk where the mountainhome is. Might take over that cave though just to have a colony to exile people to.

E46. Looking back, the walls really weren't needed. The instant a topside enemy steps to Minedived, one of two things happens. They either spawn at the river entrance and end up like most Oregon Trail playthroughs (though they usually just leave the map eventually), or they approach from a non-watery direction meaning they have to contend with traps and a pack of *checks* 22 war dogs before my soldiers even get near them.

This guy? Eaten by puppers.

This lass? Bested by falling rocks and one farmer who happened to be herding cows.

Everything in this fort is crammed together, especially the first few levels which have to worry about the lake river. Fortunately or not, there haven't been any aquifer layers below this point.

Tavern, guildhalls, and temples.

116 bedrooms

The rest are mostly mining layers until E26, where the cavern is broken into (finally, a cavern that doesn't require 50 levels of digging). I left that sealed for a couple years and the troglodytes and naked mole dogs were left alone for so long they started breeding.

I've started setting up basecamp down there, to predictably chaotic results, one of which involved a guy going berserk in the burrow until he was throttled to death which really harshed the vibes of everyone there and if my fort spirals out of control I'm just gonna blame that guy now.

That's all for now I think.

[omgindiablog]

Olavakkode Railway Station, Palakkad, Kerala, India: Palakkad, or Palghat, is a city in Kerala, a state in southwestern India. The 18th-century Palakkad Fort has sturdy battlements, a moat, and a Hanuman temple on its grounds. North, on the Kalpathy River, the 15th-century Viswanatha Swamy Temple is the main venue of the famous Ratholsavam chariot festival. Northeast, near Malampuzha Dam, the town of Malampuzha has a rock garden created from recycled materials

[a-shrieking-cloud-of-bats]

DF Posting: KingChannels - Year 2

Here we are again.

The Bedroom Floor, which as of the end of year 2 was housing every single one of our dwarves. There's three more wings like this, along with some larger bedrooms up top for our more distinguished (read: cranky) fortress members. I'd say we're using... maybe a third of them?

Looking forward I think I took too many pictures of dwarf stats and likes and such, but here we are again regardless. We left KingChannels last year with planning out our barracks/trade depot combo, and the future trap tunnel I will be using to bolster our defenses. We began year two with adding two new members to our Militia, Sigun Libadkivish and Kogan Rithas. Both mostly unskilled, but you need bodies sooner rather then later so they can get trained up when that barracks gets built.

the two new happy members of our militia

Shortly after this addition I had a realization that creatures can Climb, now. As a result I reexamined the wall around our fort and had the realization that enemies can probably just climb over it, so we're going to have to add a plan to build an overhang on the top of it, to prevent goblins from just scrambling up the walls and rushing into our main fortress. The trade depot/barracks/kill tunnel doesn't really Work if they... you know, don't go through it. Other then that realization not much happened early in the year as we were honestly just waiting for more dwarves. We finished putting some statues up in the temple, along with starting smoothing it out, but we need more haulers, more masons, more everything. The first year being as dry as it was on migrants was quite bad for our momentum, especially given the number of large scale constructions I'll be doing in this fort, but thankfully with Aban on ring making duty we should be sending out quite the impressive signal to the mountainhome soon enough.

Despite our cool new temple some dwarves are still unhappy; namely Sigun himself. He did get caught out in a snowstorm to be fair; dwarves Hate being outside in bad weather, to the point that it can lead to traumatic memories. He later learned something from it (the importance of self sacrifice, foreshadowing as a military dwarf?), but it's still dragging his mood down I believe despite it being "good" for him.

Unfortunately migrants are determined by how much stuff you ship out on the dwarven trade caravan and the first two migrant waves this year were completely dry. Expected, but unfortunate. While waiting for the trade caravan to arrive we carved out the living room floor (pictured at the top of this post), and doubly used this as an excuse to explore a new layer, as it was made partially of chert. A new layer of stone means new potential for ores, which means maybe we can get the militia armed sooner rather then later.

Regardless the liason Eventually arrived while we plunked away at the trade depot. It didn't get to experience the luxary of trading in an Actual Room, with an Actual Roof, but there's always next year. The outpost liason told us next year they want Sheets (whcih is to say, paper or parchment sheets), and Anvils. Not a great thing for us given we're building a library. We'll probably just go double time on the stonecrafts this coming year, but maybe I will sell some paper; the library is a ways off yet after all.

Meanwhile we requested, Steel, Iron, Bronze and Silver bars. Steel, Bronze, and Iron are obvious, we need to get our militia armored sooner rather then later, and I have no guarantee of there being a significant amount of military grade metal on site, but the silver is something special. As I've said we're building a library, but it Is the focus of our fort, so I wanted it to be a little bit more then stacking rocks. We are making the library mostly out of sterling silver, an alloy of copper and silver, with other ornamental metals to accentuate things a bit. Gem windows also.

Anyway we bought some random gear they brought, a few iron and bronze bars, as well as a single silver bar, and a bunch of cheese wheels for the dwarves. I always like buying random food when the caravan comes, dwarves like the variety and it's often quite cheap. Higher value food makes dwarves happier too, and cheese is rather high value for an uncooked food. We also bought our first book.

A scroll concerning the moon and how it moves around in the sky. It'll go in the library eventually, obviously. Note the value too, very expensive. We're going to need a more robust economy if we're gonna get more non fortress written books.

Literally two days after the caravan left we got a migrant wave and it was a Big one. News travels fast. The migrant wave was, even better, mostly military dwarves, two melee and two ranged. I went ahead and augmented our belowground trade depot pillboxes with a link up to another barracks for the ranged dwarves. They need a bit more space to do their training, so underground suits them fine as well as being easier to expand outwards.

Our four new militiadwarves. The melee squad is now up to 6 strong, and these two are skilled! Good tidings indeed. For those curious, Udin and Eral are marksdwarves, Doren and Ber are meleedwarves, Sword and Axe specialists respectively. They'll be a big help.

On top of these four, we got another 7 dwarves, totaling up to 11 dwarves. Basically everything I could've asked for. The construction effort on the trade depot speeds up near instantly and we get it structurally complete before the end of the season. Just need the floors and roofs now.

In the process of waiting for the depot to finish, I realized we had no water within the walls of the fort. I set about planning a cistern for the nearest murky pool so we can get some renewable water going, hopefully, if we get enough rain to refill the pool. If not we'll still have Some water, we hopefully wont' need much before we hit the caverns and hopefully find a much larger source of water.

At any rate after the sorting out of the migrant wave was over I set to making a weapon out of the iron we bought. The next long term goal for the miners, now that all of our basic needs are being met, is to find the metal on site so we can get our militia into metal armor. Exploratory mining will begin soon, but I also dug out some extra room on our workshop floor for our fledgling metal industry.

Small beginnings. We might eventually upgrade to a magma furnace, but honestly I find setting up a little forge hovel near the core of the earth a pain in the butt, as much as I like it aesthetically. Maybe we'll pump magma up, though that presents its own risks. Maybe if the cavern water pumping goes well.

The new forge was put to work immediately making an axe for one of the recruits. The other recruits claimed the purchased gear, and we are that much better armed for any aggression.

Shortly after our military got armed, we had our first strange mood! A posession, unfortunately, but we'll take what we can get. Ingish grabbed some Chert and Rough Bloodstones, and made a scepter.

I'll probably give it to a noble as a ceremonial piece or somethin. Or maybe just put it in a display case in the library somewhere. It does refer to a historical event from our civilization, The Rag of Palms so that's pretty nice.

Around this time winter hit and the murky pools froze so I set out to make that cistern. It's a small one, mostly to get the water out of the pool and under a roof, so the pool can refill. Honestly also did it just because I like messing with fluids in dwarf fortress. Honestly no idea how I haven't made a pumpstack yet.

The intermediate form of the cistern. I want to add some stone block walls and floors eventually. The blue on the right is obviously the frozen murky pool, the lever controls the floodgate, and the stairs go down into the cistern for when we need to hook it up to another cistern to bring it to the fort proper. This is mostly just to allow this particular murky pool to refill, giving us more water in total, over time. This Does present a potential hole in our security, but as long as we don't leave the floodgate open it should be fine. Should

This occured pretty much simultaneously with the smoothing of the temple being finished, creating a nice meeting place for the dwarves, which should hopefully help lighten the mood. We've gotten a number of mildly unhappy dwarves, and sure enough, after this all got smoothed out that number slowly dropped. And then immediately rose because everyone ran out in the snow and got pissed off about it, as dwarves do.

Luxary. We'll probably add some tables and chairs and such in here at some point too. Floor's a little barren. Also yes that is a llama statue. The cube statue is of a bogeyman, I dunno why it's shaped like a cube. Tileset restrictions on largely procedural creatures I'd imagine.

Once that got done I set the smoothers on the dining room, for similar reasons as to the temple. Areas dwarves frequent are important to make look nice, for happiness reasons. They never got around to even a single tile before the end of the year because they were too busy making stone blocks. A mostly good thing. The temple is probably enough for now.

As the year plodded on towards its conclusion the barracks part of the trade depot was finished, and our dwarves began to train. Shortly after the recruits graduated to novices of their given weapon types, and earned a Sword and Speardwarf title. The beginning of a hopefully long road.

They're not training in here as of this screenshot, but they're headed there!

We hit another bit of a lull as winter ran on, started making a floor for the main room of the depot and got that much closer to actually moving the depot inside it for once. The roof is still needed but we have an honestly absurd amount of blocks so it'll be done soon I imagine. The extra labor really helped. At some point while closing up the year a militiadwarf got trapped outside the walls at some point. I did have the drawbridge down at one point so haulers could bring some wood from outside the walls in, but I don't know why he would have left. Will have to keep my eyes open for further excursions. If there's some gap in the defenses that the dwarves are wandering through, we can expect any enemies to wander through it too. And dwarves won't climb to my knowledge, even if they know how, so that couldn't have been what happened either.

At the end of the year, the fort had its first child birth, Lolor Rimtarilir. Child of Kogan Rithas and Sigun Libadkivish who may sound familiar. The two dwarves we put in the military at the start of the year. We've come full circle. Unfortunately last time I played mother dwarves carrying their children had a nasty tendency to use them as shields, so Lolor may not be long for this world. Then again, he only needs a year to start walking, so maybe he'll be fine.

We can only hope. Also yes, dwarves are born with a full set of values, preferences, and life goals. Minute One this baby knows Exactly what it is doing with its life. Must be nice.

And from that point the year drove to a close uneventfully. The trade depot will be finished next year, and we can begin on another project, expand the cistern network, hopefully get some equipment forged, and maybe start to look at building that library. If not, I'll look into a non library secure storage place for books somewhere, to keep them out of the hands of thieves, as they don't go into any stockpile inparticular, so that scroll's just kinda... hangin out in the trade depot undefended. Costing 1000+ dollars and all. Need to get that taken care of. Probably should've done it this year. Oh well!

Until next year. Our fortunes rise and fall together.

[bedknees]

You always leave your cool headcanons in the tags! If you're up to it, do you have some for Simon and Betty your up for sharing? I'd love to hear them 🥺

lol sorry ha ha! I like whispering in the tags a lot lmao. And sure! I don't think I ever really gave headcanons on these two disasters but I have a ton so buckle up, and thanks for the ask. ^^

Betty

She was born to Russian Jewish first-gen immigrants somewhere in New England. They were medical doctors by trade, running a practice together and everything. She is an only child. Her parents worked a lot so she was often alone at home when she got old enough.

Due to relative solitude at home, Betty became an avid reader and allowed it to occupy her time when she was lonely. She has a particular penchant for mystery novels that persisted into adulthood. Her general love of the unknown led her into being interested in real world mysteries.

Her birthday is April 11, 1966 - making her an elder Gen X and an Aries.

Has always been very smart, especially in regards to mathematics and has a minor in it. It's definitely her forte, if not made obvious by Temple of Mars.

She is bipolar II and has learned to manage it well over years, as long as no major stressors enter her life she is pretty good to go [crying cat giving thumbs up image]

Loves plants and mushrooms! She's especially fond of succulents. Very adept at fungi identification and foraging properly.

When she's not deep into her work, she likes taking nature hikes either on foot or on her bike. She's always loved the outdoors.

Betty loves all genres of music, but is particularly partial to Depeche Mode and Journey.

She also loves all animals, but really enjoys alligators and crocodilians. The first time she went down South and saw an American Alligator just casually hanging out near a river, she nearly burst into tears.

Simon

His birthday is August 25th, 1965. He is a Virgo because of course he is. Just misses Boomer status, as Gen X began in '65 lmao.

His father was a first-generation Russian/Yakut immigrant, while his mother was a second generation Filipina American. They were borderline hippies that met at a music festival, but break the (objectively flawed) stereotype by being very well educated with successful careers in teaching.

Simon had a younger sister and developed Older Sibling Syndrome that defines part of his personality to this day.

Stemming from his parents, Simon has always had a thirst for adventure. In addition to being exposed to camping at young age due to his family taking him to festivals in his youth, he also has always had a general inclination to explore the unknown.

Loves 60s-70s rock and roll a la Mountain and Jimi Hendrix, but just prefers the genre in general. This manifests later a bit in Ice King's love for Marceline's music, which is of course rock-centric.

He is autistic; his first special interest was cryptids, something that never really left him. He eventually developed one for playing the drums (also seen in IK later) and Cheers obv. His main interest is by far ancient artifacts. He was the kid that checked out books on Ancient Egypt every week.

Got his PHD in Archaeology by 27 due to being wicked smart and starting intro college classes all the way back in his Junior/Senior years of high school.

Unironically tuned into Art Bell's radio show because of his cryptid and conspiracy fascination. He never actually bought into any of it (mostly), but it was fun for him!

Is a cat person full stop. He will sometimes take walks in his neighborhood and be greeted by all the outside cats that he has made a point to get to know!

Simon and Betty

Met at a University-held science and sci-fi convention right before Betty was to leave for Australia. Simon held a small panel on the Enchiridion, talking about its history and his search for it. Betty fell fast and hard. They both did. After the panel they talked for hours about it.

Their shared love for mysteries and adventure made them a perfect match. They shared a ton in common and became inseparable almost instantly.

Were the couple that rarely ever fought, but they also possessed a level of obvious codependency. Betty was the first person to ever make Simon feel so seen and he loved her wit and eccentricity, and Simon proved so smart and sweet and genuinely interesting that their pull was magnetic.

[skyrim-forever]

Day 7: Companion

A/N: Being brave and posting this before the final day is written, hoping it will motivate me to do it today. This one features Theodora adjusting to life in raven Rock, the threat of Miraak still looming, with a newfound friend. Enjoy! All of my tesfest pieces are up on ao3 under the name We Will Find a Way. Tagging: @tes-summer-fest

Though the threat of Miraak still loomed over Solstheim, Theodora had made good progress in Raven Rock. Upon arriving she intended to go after him right away but after her experience at his Temple she knew she wasn’t in a state to handle him now. Even if she hadn’t been pregnant at the time, discovering Miraak’s allegiances to Hermaous Mora had frightened her. Of all the Daedric Princes, Mora was the one she  wanted to interact with the least; it was one thing to outright be killed -going mad was an entirely different matter. But from the first day in Raven Rock she quickly learned the town was in dire straits. After having been attacked by Ash Spawn she took on the role of discovering their source, an Imperial Captain in Fort Frostmoth who long should have been dead. After this, she became more trusted by the people in town, eventually getting the ebony mine reopened and even stopping a plot of the First Councilor’s life. 

Though the people of Raven Rock were deeply wary of outsiders, Theodora had earned their trust, now residing in Severin Manor. Although, she couldn’t have done it alone. Frea of the Skaal had been very helpful during the latter months of her pregnancy, supplying herbs and even delivering Arthano when the time came. Whereas the people of Raven Rock could be guarded, the Skaal had been very welcoming, especially once she said she was there to defeat Miraak. Frea had already done so much for her and she promised she would more than make it up to her. 

But in truth, the biggest help had come from the mercenary, Teldryn Sero. Self-proclaimed best swordsman in Morrowind, he had more than lived up to it. Not long after arriving on Solstheim, Theodora became acquainted with the local tavern, a sujamma joint named the Retching Netch. Although she couldn’t drink due to her condition, she had spent a lifetime socializing in taverns and the little fact of being sober wasn’t going to change that. The owner Geldis Sadri had recommended him and the Dragonborn couldn’t be more thankful. He had acted as a guide, formidable spellsword, and had become somewhat of a friend. A constant companion as she fought dragon priests and ash spawn. 

“I have to say I am quite a fan of the work you’ve had for me recently.” Teldryn chuckled as their dwemer swords clashed. 

“What, you don’t miss the Nordic ruins?” Theodora threw back at him. He let a deep laugh, one that showed the years of ash damage he had taken. 

“As long as you're paying I’m game for it.” Ducking under her next blow he continues “but practicing sword forms does certainly carry less risk.” It had been a few months since she’d given birth, Arthano was already six months old, but now that she had had some time to recover she was ready to get back into training and regain her strength. I’ll need all the strength I can get. Thankfully, she had the best around as a sparring partner. A couple more swings until Theodora puts her hand up, panting. 

“Okay, I have to call it here for the day.” 

“You’re doing well, the muscle memory is still there.”

“I’m still too weak though, it’ll be a miracle if I am back to normal by the end of the year.”

“Do not worry, you’re Dragonborn aren’t you? Can’t you just shout him to death?” Theodora lets out a half-hearted chuckle. 

“So is Miraak.”

“Well, what does he have that you don’t?”

“I don’t know, just a dragon, a Daedric Prince backing him, and give or take 4000 years experience?” Teldryn lets out a long sigh. 

“The Daedra aren’t all they are cracked up to be, believe me.” He pauses for a moment. “You’ll get there, you’ve already improved a lot in the past few weeks.”

“Thanks.” Sheathing her swords, Theodora makes him an offer. “Do you want anything? Tea, food? I’ve got a couple of jars of sujamma. Geldis insisted on giving them to me and I can’t have them for at least a few more months.” 

“Well I suppose I could take one off your hands. How much time do you have?”

“Cindiri is looking after Arthano until dusk, so I could spare a couple of hours.” The Second  Councilor’s wife had been incredibly kind to her. They began meeting for tea when she was still expecting, confessing how she had always wanted children but unfortunately was unable to do so. So when Theodora mentioned needing someone to look after him, the woman happily offered. Theodra was thankful, not only because it gave her more time to train, but also meant she knew he was in good hands. 

Tossing a jar of sujamma at him, Theodora then takes a seat opposite him. It felt nice to sit down, not have any obligations for the next few hours. Arthano was a good baby, not that she had much experience, but he was sleeping mostly through the night now and had begun to crawl,not yet walking so mischief making was limited. He looked exactly as he did in her dream. A beautiful golden boy with dark eyes. Although she had to confess she was hoping he would look more like her, rather than the spitting image of his father. Being a mother had been even more tiring than anyone said it would be, but he was so sweet that she couldn’t imagine being without him at this point.

“Gods you look tired.” She side-eyes him. 

“Thanks Teldryn, ever the charmer you are.”

“The great warrior, brought down by motherhood.”

“I’d like to see you try to be the Hero of Tamriel and take care of a child.” Teldryn takes a large swig of the liquor.

“No thanks. The hero's life is far less glamorous than the songs would leave one to believe.” Changing the subject, Teldryn asks “I’ve noticed you have a very Dunmer fighting style, evident even before we started training. Who taught you how to use a sword?”

“My Uncle Elo, when I was young.” Theodora beams. 

“Your uncle was Dunmer?”

“Not my biological uncle, no. He was my father’s first mate and most loyal friend. He always brought me back gifts from their adventures, and taught me everything he knew about swordmanship.” She gestures to her swords now hung on the wall. “Those were a gift from him, I was 13. My father had been a bit apprehensive about giving them to me, until Elo reminded him that he’d been in jail at my age.” Teldryn laughs.  

“Sound slike quite the character. First mate? Are you from a family of sailors?”

“Pirates.”

“Fascinating. So where was this Elo from?” Her face scrunches a bit, trying to recap the memories. It had already been so long since he passed that details began slipping. She realized it had been a long while since she spoke about him. The last time she spoke of him was to Ond- don’t think about him. It’ll only hurt.

“Oh, somewhere near the border with Black Marsh, outside one of the major cities.”

“Tear?”

“Yes! That was it, Tear, I’ve got to remember that. He didn’t talk much about his upbringing, but I gathered none of it was good.” Teldryn gruff voice responses. 

“I’d reckon, a dastardly place. Controlled by House Dres, most of the population is slaves.”

“I knew Elo was a bastard of some Dres noble but wow.”

“My people can be beyond twisted. But then again, so can yours.”

“Believe me, the Empire will gain no sympathy from me.” 

“Don’t lie, didn’t you end the Civil War for the Empire?” Her eyes darted up to meet his, only finding the chitlin helmet he never took off. 

“I wasn’t given much of a choice but to side with the people who would have chopped my head off if not for that dragon attack.” Tedlryn lets out a roaring laughter.

“Of course they’d nearly kill the one person in Nirn who could save them. Anything to make the paperwork easier.” Now it is Theodora who laughs. “So what’s next after Miraak is taken care of, back to Skyrim?”

“I don’t know yet, I have several properties there.” Lakeview would be viable, secluded, lots of space. Faendal was a good steward and could be a good influence on her son; she knew him and Camilla wanted children so Arthano could have other kids to hang out with. She planned to hold on to Proudspire to keep it in the family but she wouldn’t feel comfortable in Solitude. Let alone at the family estate. I’ll want to sell Vlindrel Hall eventually. But that would mean going to Markarth. 

“Theodora” Teldryn says. 

“Oh sorry, my mind wanders.”

“I can tell.”

“But to answer your question, I don’t know yet. I’ve been leaning toward Cyrodiil, the Imperial City is big enough to get lost in. People from all over the continent are there so it would be good for the boy. I’ve given up on planning too far ahead, so much can happen in such a short time.”

“You sound old.” 

“Oh you’re terrible. I am old.”

“No you're not.”

“For a human I’m not as young as I once was. How old are you anyways?”

“Old enough to remember the Red Year.”

“Now you sound old.” They sit in silence for a few minutes, Teldryn polishing off the last of his sujamma. 

“You know, you don’t have to go. You’ve got property here, you’re quite well-liked and these people do not trust easily.”

“I’ve briefly thought about it, it is nice to be out of the Empire’s grasp. I just don’t know about raising Arthano alone here.”

“Well you’re not alone, Second Councilor Arano’s wife considers him a gem, I think you could go away for weeks and she’d be perfectly happy to watch him. And besides, as he gets older he’ll need to have someone to teach him magic.”

“You want to be Uncle Teldryn?”

“Why not? Well, once he’s older and can handle himself better. Besides, he’s half Altmer, magic is in his blood. It would be a shame to waste that potential. With the proper training we can prevent him from becoming a stuffy mage. ” Theodora softly smiles. Teldryn made a point, perhaps he could be to her son what Elo was for her.

“Thank you Teldryn, you can be quite kind when you want to be. I’ll think about it.”

“You’re welcome Boss.” 

[baby-fics]

CG: Alexei Reznik (Turned 1934)

🩶Alexei likes being called Baba or Bubble (He was called Bubble one time when his little was really small and his heart almost started beating) calls his littles Little Bat, Sweetiling/Sweetest, Dearest.

🦇 Is the calm, soft spoken caregiver. Holding his little gently, rocking them back and forth, rubbing the words of blessings and poems into their back.

🪦 Wants to make sure his loved ones are well cared for and his littles adequately spoiled. Constantly making sure they've eaten enough and being the primary cook for the coven.

🩶Always sneaks veggies into their baby's food in a way they can't taste, good at accommodating texture issues and will work very closely with his coven members if they have issues with food.

🦇Very attentive and helps you get ready and change clothes, putting them in cozy little outfits but needs to get feedback from them as Alexei can't really feel temperature.

🪦 Is the bartender for a monster dive bar in their area, it's not unusual for you to sit there with a milkshake or shirley temple while Baba cleans up before the sun rises.

🩶 Loves setting up pillow forts and snuggling up with the whole coven and wrapping you up in blankets. Watching movies like Corpse Bride or Coraline, or shows like Over the Garden Wall. A sippy full of chocolate milk, trying not to fall asleep in Alexei's arms.

"Aren't you sweet, I think I need to hear my precious little bat call me Bubble one more time~" 🫧