#a mouse? in my boat? its more likely than you think

[punderdome]

Infernal Jurisprudence: Chapter 4

Summary: Raphael observes more than a magic lesson.

[AO3]

Rating 18+

Chapter 4: The Weave

Raphael was incensed at the audacity of one of the two beings contained within the Astral Prism.  One of them was bound in Infernal chains.  The other was an Illithid trying to worm its way into the minds of his investments.  Raphael was not pleased.

He wanted to know what kind of figure the Illithid appeared as in Tavara’s dream.  Clearly someone tall and handsome with a regal air about him.  Raphael imagined a human figure with chestnut brown hair and golden eyes, well dressed and well spoken.  Much like himself but less attractive.  

The adventurers were all buzzing about their strange shared dream, and discussing the various figures they had seen.  Golden paladins, beautiful women, distrusted Githyanki.  The Little Mouse never mentioned what kind of figure she saw.  She sat by the campfire eating leftover stew and a small piece of stale bread in silence.

Her gaze seemed far away that morning, as she likely pondered what the day would hold.  Raphael wished he could reach into her mind and learn all of her secrets.

Tavara pulled the vampling away into a hidden corridor of their camp.  “Astarion, you need to tell them,” she implored.  Hells, the other adventurers were so blind.

“But why, darling, there is no reason to shake the boat, if you will.”

“They all think this shared dream we had was because of the dehydrated boar that you fed us yesterday.  I’m sure that’s the result of you feeding on it, and then feeding it to us.”  All of them were idiotic, including Tavara, to have assumed that carrion was safe to eat.  Raphael would make sure Tavara was well fed.

“I had a similar dream, but my figure was not a happy one.”  Astarion rubbed the back of his neck and asked for everyone to come forward.

Tavara looked at him with pity.  “Astarion, it’s going to be worse the longer you hide it.  It’s better now than someone discovering you feeding on something.”

The vampire spawn called the others over before explaining that he was a vampire spawn.  Tavara placed her arms around him in an embrace and immediately defused any irritation.

“Astarion, don’t forget, I taste absolutely awful,” the wizard exclaimed before taking his leave.

“Astarion, it’s ok.  We love you,” Tavara asserted.

***

Later that night, Tavara passed the location of Jergal, waiting for her by the river bank.

“Withers, what will happen to all of us after we die?” Tavara asked, uncertain of the answer.

“Every soul must reckon unto itself a fate.”  Jergal answered her.  Raphael was frustrated.  Tavara was to be celebrated.

“Am I to be part of the wall of the faithless?” Tavara asked the former god.

“No.”  Jergal answered.

“Can you elaborate?”

“No.” 

Tavara sighed.  She stormed off into the depths of their camp.

The wizard was standing at his tent, blatantly pining over a conjured image of Mystra.  He touched the hair on the conjured image.  Tavara stumbled upon him as he gazed at the image of his goddess.

“Mystra?” she said with a hint of surprise.  The wizard immediately let the image falter and dusted off his hands quickly.  He turned to face the Little Mouse.

“Oh! You startled me, I was miles away,” the wizard chattered nervously.

“It’s perfectly fine, you can conjure up the Lady of Mysteries all you like,” Tavara assured him.  “I’m no stranger to wizards conjuring up images of Mystra.”  She put her hand on her hip.  The wizard smiled nervously.

“You aren’t?” 

“I have a wizard’s education.  I’ve seen more wizards conjuring images of her than I can count.  I’m certain at least a few of them were their fantasies for later when they were alone.”  Gale of Waterdeep visibly cringed.  Fascinating.

A flurry of snowflakes fell from the Little Mouse’s palm onto the dirt outside the wizard’s tent.

“Magic is my life, I’ve been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can remember.  There’s nothing like it, it’s like beauty, music, and poetry all rolled into one.”  The wizard paused for dramatic effect.  “Is it the same for you?”  Raphael was curious to see what the Little Mouse would say.

“My magic is ancient and raw, sometimes even volatile.”  Raphael closed his eyes and thought about Tavara’s power.  The universities had been lucky to have her.  She was singular.

“Yes, as raw and ancient as the veins of Bahamut,” the wizard mused.  Raphael didn’t like the way her power was so easily discarded.  “Perhaps I can show you what I mean by reaching into the Weave together.”  Raphael’s eyes narrowed as he watched the wizard interacted with the Mouse.

Tavara smiled.  “Of course,” she grandly gestured for the wizard to continue.

The wizard demonstrated an easy set of somatic components meant to channel the Weave.  He moved quickly and clapped his hands together to pull the magic forward and bring the two of them into its circle.  “Now you,” the wizard motioned for Tavara to follow his motions.  She imitated his somatic component with ease.  You absolute fool, she doesn’t even need the somatic or verbal components to access the Weave.   Raphael sneered at the blatant disrespect of his Little Mouse.  He wanted to reach through the glass of the scrying mirror and drag the nitwit by his hair to his dungeons for a proper punishment.  A few dozen turns around the windmill would set him right.

“Now, repeat after me: Ah-Thran Mystra-Ryl Kantrach-Ao,” the foolish wizard instructed.

“Ah-Thran Mystra-Ryl Kantrach-Ao,” Tavara repeated easily with a look of amusement on her face.  The Waterdhavian donkey really did think his stupid little incantation was significantly harder than Hellfire or any other arcane arts, didn’t he?  He clearly thinks too much of himself.

Raphael watched the shimmer of the Weave appear around them.  He wanted to burn the rosewater-scented sanctuary and replace it with sulfur and Hellfire and true power.  The Weave connecting them disgusted him.

“You’re channeling the Weave,” the wizard started.  Obviously, she’s a sorceress, she’s done this hundreds of times before.   “How does it feel?” The wizard’s dull brown eyes smiled down at her while Tavara ran her hands over the spell connecting them.  Her fingers traced gracefully over the glowing satin of the Weave.

“The same as it always does,” Tavara replied with a smirk.  Raphael knew she wouldn’t accept his patronizing attitude forever.  She had a wizard’s education, but that contemptuous fool would never see her as his superior, which she clearly was.

“You’re hard to please, aren’t you?” The bearded donkey didn’t seem displeased at her blatant disrespect, but Raphael was certain it was an attempt to send the wizard away.  The Little Mouse clearly had no interest in such a weak and pathetic man.

There was a long pause as the Little Mouse held the fool’s gaze.  The Little Mouse smiled at the wizard, and Raphael despised the look he was giving her.  The elation behind the wizard’s half smile left Raphael fuming.  She should be furious at how little the wizard respected her talents and education.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting…” the wizard failed to finish his thought.  Finally, he’s silent.  “A pleasant image to be sure.  Most pleasant, in fact, most welcome.”  Raphael was displeased by the long gaze between the Mouse and her companion.  “There it goes,” the wizard mused as the Weave evaporated.  Hellfire is a much more potent arcane art.  The Mouse understands this.   “How easily things slip away from us, no matter how hard they were in the obtaining.”

The wizard smiled, but hurried to excuse himself from the situation.  Good.  “Goodnight, I enjoyed sharing a moment of magic with you.”  Raphael was rolling his eyes at the vision in the scrying mirror.  Tavara was the powerful one, and he should be learning from her.

The two parted, and Tavara returned to her tent.  Fuming, Raphael set the scrying mirror down on his desk.

Raphael was irritable after seeing the wizard get so close to the Little Mouse.  He paced around his study for a time, before deciding he needed to return to his work.  First, he pulled out the scrying mirror again, as he often did, to check to see that the Little Mouse had fallen asleep.

Tavara laid comfortably within her bedroll in her tent, but she definitely was not sleeping.  Raphael watched her moan softly.  Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was heavy and panting.  Her legs trembled slightly as she stroked herself underneath the blankets.

Raphael was intoxicated by the image in the scrying mirror.  He immediately unlaced his trousers and started to pleasure himself alongside her.  He watched her chest heave as she moaned, and her legs tensed.  She was struggling to relax her limbs, and Raphael was greedily awaiting seeing her come undone.

She was thinking of him.

Raphael was getting too close to his climax and slowed down pumping his shaft with his fist.  He was hard and aching for her.  He had watched Haarlep touch themselves in several forms on many occasions throughout the centuries, but it had never excited him like this.  Raphael desperately wanted to pull the blankets down to see what her fingers were doing to her.  Was she clothed or bare?   He paused again, needing to slow down or else he would come before the Mouse.

Her power.  Her strength.  Her charm.  Her beauty.

Raphael had seen consorts and wives of various Archdevils throughout the millennia, but many of them were cowardly, weak things.  They were submissive to their Archdevils.  That was not her.  Tavara was suitable to be the consort of the Archdevil Supreme.  He would take her to his bed in Nessus and make her produce all these beautiful little noises as he ravaged her.

Tavara’s back arched on her bedroll.  Raphael wanted nothing more than to climax at the same time as the Little Mouse, feeling their pleasure together across different planes.  He watched her writhe on her bedroll, she had to be getting close.

She clasped a hand over her mouth and moaned into it.  She was quaking.  It was too hard to resist the sight of her like this, and Raphael let himself come, Infernal seed covering his hands.  The pleasure of being with her was intense, and he found himself breathing hard as he came down from his high.

The Little Mouse hadn’t quite come yet.  Within a few seconds, he watched the euphoria appear on her face.  She ripped her hand away from her mouth, panting and breathing hard.  Raphael preened that the image of him had given her so much pleasure.

Tavara’s eyes drifted open sleepily.  “Gale,” she murmured softly into the solitude of her tent.

Raphael’s eyes narrowed, and he stiffened in his chair.  He was not going to let that pathetic wizard get any closer to his Little Mouse.

[kranagok0]

Oh boy, this Is a complete love square....

Guys, I don't know what I have about polyamorous romances but it's like a strange feeling of 'look at that, no one is sad and everyone loves each other.'

That just crossed my mind when I saw the new member of the trio of strange friends (now it's a quartet).

Louise is a breath of fresh air among the extroverts that make up the group.

Louise is practically an introvert. Someone closed who was even the last to be chosen on the boat trip (if we leave aside the trio of protagonists). Louise mentions that she has been in the Sparrow Scouts for some time now but has made almost no friends (or so I think).

I understand what it's like to be an introvert, more or less. I am the type of person who acts with a lot of concern, nervousness and gets serious so as not to say something stupid the first time they meet him... However, when I gain the necessary confidence I transform into someone different. I go from being 'a mouse thinking carefully about its next move' to becoming 'a monkey with a shotgun'. I hope I'm not the only one to have that strange way of being....

My life aside, I'd say Louise is kind of like that too. At first she tries to fit in by being normal with the team, but then she begins to get to know them and identify what things the trio of friends think are right or wrong and that is when Louise begins to show more of her personality. It emerges from the cocoon like a butterfly to show its true colors.

And in short: it is perfect for the trio of friends. It's so weird and different that I feel like it's necessary for the group, and I'm speaking in a positive way when I say weird. A good time.Now the main topic..... Romance.

I've seen a lot of Frida X David, Hilda X Frida, David X Frida fanfics and blogs, there's literally everything. But with the arrival of Louise the combinations are doubled. Now it could be Louise X David, Louise X Hilda, Louise

*Music from a 80's TV game show plays*

Hello ladies, gentlemen and other magical creatures who visualize us! I want to welcome you to this little head-canon idea I had of what each character in the trio of friends would be like if they were Louise's partner!

To do this, we will see the qualities of each suitor and what their dynamic with the character would be like:

Let's start with the one who represents better than anyone the shyness and courage that exists within us, he died twice to try to demonstrate it. Here we have David.

David may be a scary guy, but he will definitely come to save you if you are in danger. This kid would literally show what he's made of on a battlefield if he feels like he needs to prove something.... Don't tell me no, we've all seen the Vikings episode.

Our next contestant is not only smart in school but also in witchcraft. If you ask him about a certain topic, rest assured that when he finishes his talk you will at least have knowledge of the entire topic and its related subtopics. She is willing to do anything for her friends, she would even open a portal to the unknown and create non-existent spells just for you. Let's give a big, fervent wave of applause to the young city witch: FRIDA!

Frida may have been a bit of a perfectionist in the past, but after meeting Hilda and experiencing several events she went from being miss perfect to becoming the smartest friend you can count on. To be honest, sometimes Frida can be a bit boring, but that doesn't stop her from reaching your heart by showing great gifts of her intellect and the magic she possesses means that any topic can arise from a conversation. So, if by 'boring' we mean a lot of context and extremely long topics that she explains to you with excitement and great happiness, then boring is pretty good.

Finally we have the icing on the cake, or in this case the blueberry. Coming from the wild and with more extroverted energy than any of the other candidates mentioned above, we have a young woman with blue hair as long as she could grow it (I don't doubt that she would have let it grow longer if it didn't bother her in her adventures). This girl can literally make friends with almost anything and her circle of friends is huge, ranging from elf scribes to giants who are no longer on this planet. She would be the one to always take the first step in battle with her sword if I see it necessary and— Wait, where did he get that sword?

With you, Hilda!

Seriously, where do I get it from?

Hilda is by far the most outgoing and curious person I have ever seen. Don't you remember what Tofoten was triggered by his curiosity? Dude, it was literally the end of the series. And if you hadn't already noticed, this girl would fight barehanded against a king to save her loved ones. She would be the first to take up weapons to save her friends, she is capable of moving every rock in the entire city to find her pet, she is even capable of doing an act of terrorism just because the bells were bothering her friends.

Oh my god, I'd be afraid of this girl if I were someone who played some practical joke on David in the past or something. I would be locked up at home for what might happen to me. Better confinement than meeting Hilda on the street and having her recognize me.

So.... In a little while we will see Louise's possible choices about who she would like to be with, why I think they would be a good couple and also about what their relationship would be like. And it wouldn't just be from my point of view. Indeed, dear reader, you can also have your opinion. Comment what you think a relationship between Louise and any of our favorite trio of friends would be like.I retire to write incorrect quotes and more about this romance because I am burning with emotion. See you later

[gabzilla-z]

ok quick thoughts, spoilers behind the cut.

Pros:

Halle. HALLE. H a l l e. Her voice, her face, her mannerisms. They took what made Ariel special in the animated movie and built on it and she was the perfect person to pull it off.

Her beauty was distracting.

So glad they finally got a singer for a live action, I couldn’t take another B&B autotuned disaster.

Made me want to get to the nearest rock and play mermaid ngl.

I had my doubts with Jonah but he did a great job with Eric, played the shy, kinda awkward potato prince charming to perfection. Loved that they expanded his backstory and his interest in adventure and the sea. Also A+ for the movie knowing he had a white shirt on while surrounded by water and using every chance it had to drench him.

Eric still being caring and worried about Ariel even under Ursula’s spell? 10/10 no notes.

He came to chew bubblegum and be dreamy and he was all out of bubblegum.

Halle and Jonah’s chemistry was insane, I need them to do ten movies making eyes at each other.

Seriously the movie could have been 2 hours of them interacting in that library and it would have been money well spent.

or just two hours of them being cute smol and tol in a boat idc

TRUE LOVE INDEED

Can’t wait for this movie to be out in D+ so I can reblog all the gifs.

Part of Your World and all reprises were ofc gorgeous. Vanessa’s Trick is haunting and exactly what one would want for a siren song. For the First Time is gorgeous and underrated, felt very Broadway-esque. Eric’s song was corny but in a good way.

The rest of the songs are adequate but are not as good as the original ones.

Gotta said, song aside, the Kiss the Girl scene was more endearing in this version. When she helps him figure out her name?

Melissa was good as Ursula and made the character her own, though I think she was not as scary as she could have been. Better than I expected, though.

The actress that plays Vanessa knew she had 5 minutes to make an impression and used them to the fullest. Delightful.

Cons:

The CGI felt unfinished and so did the color grading/lighting. I edited all the movie images in this post (just played with the saturation and the contrast) and I’m mediocre at best. HIRE TUMBLR EDITORS, DISNEY.

Halle deserved to wear more outfits, I can't believe Disney missed an opportunity to sell more dolls. Would have given her a dress for each day on land and the water dress. Mouse, I thought you liked money.

we could have had it all

Wanted more of her sisters tbh. And less Triton, Javier phoned it in imo. I know Triton and Ariel’s relationship is an important part of the original movie but idk if it was his half assed acting or me wanting more of the sisters, but I wasn’t moved.

Flounder's weird character design was saved by his stellar voice actor and Sebastian grew on me, he was hilarious. Scuttlefina was tolerable but gosh she’s always playing the same character, stop casting her in everything.

Less I say about Scuttlebutt the better. Kids are probably gonna love it, though.

The ending was kinda weird? It felt rushed and the battle with Ursula was disappointing. Which is a surprise because the OTHER stormy scene at night was wonderfully done. 

Up to Ursula taking Ariel back to the ocean it felt really cohesive but the second Triton appears to save her it was like they were trying to speed things up and it got... weird.

Didn’t mind Ariel being the one that killed Ursula, after everything she put her through.

Cannot believe the movie robbed us of Jonah screaming “I lost her once, I’m not gonna lose her again!”

Overall it was a well paced (up to the finale), entertaining, charming movie. Despite its faults, the only Disney live action I want to rewatch (outside MAYBE Cinderella).

8/10 Justice for the foam dress.

[ramrodd]

What did William T. Sherman and Robert E. Lee think of each other?

COMMENTARY:

They had a profoundly intimate relationship. Sherman was very fond of the South and been president of a southern collefe after the Mexican War. He made what turned out to be a wildly optimistic estimate of the human carnage of the coming hostilities and was derided like the Dixie Chichs when he made his opinion public, People called him crazy. Like when Dave Chappelle walked awasy from Netflix.

Grant disagreed publically in the manner of a man who had been cheated, himself, by his nature.

That was way before Shiloh, Shiloh surprised everyone and Sherman’s “crazy” turned to charges of incomptence on the field by basically the same people who are Swift Boating Walz, currently, This sort of Mickey Mouse chicken shit defines a great deal of doing business in the U.S. by god Army. One of the reasons why they made all the draftee helicopter pilots warrant officers is so tht they could largely avoid all the Mickey Mouse busllshit a private can accumulate walking to the Px.

One of my principles of leaderhip is “Thou shalt not hassle”. As an officer, there is a certain amount of Mickey Mouse bullshit you have to inflict just to make sure your troops have everything they need to accomplish the mission, One of the things I learned from packing a modified T-10 parachute I had just jumped and wanted to do it again was that neatness counts. IThe T-10 oarachute is the perfect memorial to the instrumental intent of Clausewitz’s On War. It is a machine designed to exploint gravity and wind resistance for a successful operaation, It is what Zero Defects was supposed to be about.

And that was the basis of their relationship, that instrumental congruence that manifested at its fullest expression at Vicksburg, when Sherman admitted to Grant that, until that very moment, he had no idea what Grant was trying to do, That’s the faith Jesus is talking about in Matthew 8:10. And, at some point after Shiloh, Grant fell into some disrepute over drinking and Sherman covered his ass on the same basis Grant covered his. I mean, after Atlanta, Sherman just disappears into the ether, Grant was far more concerend to get George Thomas going than to woory about Sherman, And it was Grant and Sherman (and I think David Porter of the USN): it was his boat) who met with Lincoln at Hampton Roads to discuss the pending parole of Robert E. Lee and the Army of Northern Virginia, The spiritual penumbra of that gathering on that boat began with the faith Grant and Sherman had in themselves, in each other and the enterprise in which they were dedicated. Lincoln just made it a Volcan mind weld.

This is what Janury 6 violated.. It is the consequence of the operations of Project 2025 since 1960.

[handsmotif]

The Queercoding of Pinky and the Brain

This originally was just me infodumping to my friends on discord, but I decided it might be interesting to some people on here, so I polished it up and made it an actual essay lmao

To start, we’re going to break this into 2 sections -- the relationship between the mice, and Pinky’s relationship with gender, because queercoding doesn’t just mean gay!

For a 90′s show, Pinky and the Brain (and its mother show, Animaniacs) was very progressive for its time! But there were still lots of things that they couldn’t slip by censors, and thus, that’s where we have to read between the lines. And that is something I wanted to clarify here before we dive in, the actual meaning of queercoding. It’s NOT the same as queerbaiting. Queerbaiting is when the people producing certain media purposefully dangle the possibility of queer representation to lure in audiences (most prominent examples are BBC Sherlock, Riverdale, and Supernatural I GUESS? who knows abt that last one anymore), but never follow through, purely for profit. Queercoding is when media producers WANT to write in queer representation, but can’t, usually because the censors won’t let them. So, they must resort to subtext. (example: the policemen from Gravity Falls) It could also be unintentional, simply assigning certain characteristics associated with the LGBT community to characters. (example: Bugs Bunny, many Disney villains) Either way, it heavily relies on the audience picking up subtext, but whether it’s malicious or not varies, depending on the media. Bugs Bunny is an example of positive accidental queercoding, while a lot of Disney villains are negative examples.

Now, to actually discuss the gay little mice! Pinky and the Brain, whether it be intentional or not (based off comments from Maurice LaMarche, Rob Paulsen, and Tom Ruegger, signs strongly point to intentional, but it’s never been explicitly confirmed), is an example of positive queercoding.

There are many moments that I could pick out to discuss here, but we’ll start with some VERY on the nose gay metaphors. 

Remember Romy? If you don’t, that’s their actual biological son! Romy came about due to a cloning accident, where their DNA got combined and spat him out. 

There’s SO many things I could say about Romy. Every appearance he makes has an overarching gay metaphor as the plot. His first appearance in the episode Brinky (yeah it’s literally titled their ship name), it deals with his dads (WHICH I ALSO WANT TO POINT OUT, he DOES call them both dad, and they do both call him their son) disapproving of the fact that he wants to leave home and not follow in their footsteps of taking over the world. Brain even goes as far as disowning him whenever he tells him, which is certainly something a lot of queer people can unfortunately relate to. Also seen a lot in this episode is Pinky and Brain arguing even more than a married couple than usual, which pushes Romy away even further. Later, when Romy eventually does leave, and Brain starts to regret chasing him away, he tries desperately to reach out to him, but Romy doesn’t want anything to do with him. They end up tracking him down to an apartment building, where Romy is now living with his human girlfriend. When questioned about their relationship, the girlfriend, named Bunny, goes off on a tangent about how people shouldn’t judge others based on labels or relationships (hello?), and that Brain needs to be more tolerant. Brain apologizes and Romy forgives him. Happy ending.

Romy’s only other appearance is in the comics. Essentially, the plot of this one is that Brain wants to become the president of the local high school’s PTA, but he needs Romy’s help to make it look like he has a normal home life. He also enlists the help of Billie, the obligatory Woman introduced to make sure Brain doesn’t look as gay as he actually is, that he has a crush on. She pretends to be his girlfriend, and Pinky pretends to be Romy’s uncle, while they make up the story that Romy’s actual mother was lost at sea. Because if the organization found out that Brain has a son with a MAN??? THINK of the controversy! Anyway, the plan works, and Brain actually manages to get elected as president. Throughout this though, Pinky gets WEIRDLY jealous that Brain keeps brushing him aside for Billie. To the point where during Brain’s inauguration, Pinky actually dresses up as the wife/mother lost at sea and storms into the room.

[ID: Comic panels of Pinky, Brain, and Romy on stage at the inauguration ceremony. Pinky busts into room wearing drag, saying, “Yoo hoo! I’m back from years lost at sea to be with my son and ungrateful husband! Narf!” He then hugs Romy, while glaring at Brain. He goes on to say, “I’ll stand by your side, even though you left me behind!” The people in the audience begin to question this, saying, “Oh great fuzzy bangs!”, “What’d she say?!”, “He deserted her to be with that other woman!”, “What kind of monster is he?!”. Brain then rips off Pinky’s wig and says, “This isn’t my wife! This isn’t even a woman! It’s my roommate, Pinky.” Pinky replies, “Well, yes... But Romy really is my son! Poit!” And Brain responds, “N-Nonsense! He’s my son!” More people in the audience angrily speak up, saying, “What’s that?”, “He lives with a guy who likes to dress up in women’s clothing and the both claim to be that kid’s father!”, “Grumble! Mutter!” /END ID]

Needless to say, this doesn’t end well for them. What we can conclude from this is that homophobia exists in the Pinky and the Brain universe, and our characters are directly affected by it.

Moving on, And-There-Was-Only-One-Bed is a pretty common occurrence with these two. Their cage is big, they have plenty of room for two beds, but? They choose to sleep together? Even in some times where this has been inconsistent and they DO have separate beds, they’re always RIGHT next to each other. (what if we put our minecraft beds together ❤😳)

I would like to mention the episode, You’ll Never Eat Food Pellets In This Town Again! This episode is interesting to say the least. Deals with a lot of the meta of the show. Anyway. In this episode, Brain has a nightmare that he’s in a loveless marriage with Billie. You know, the woman he’s supposed to have a crush on. In the end, he wakes up from the nightmare in the same bed as Pinky.

Speaking of female love interests, Pinky is seen having multiple relationships with characters of different species. Any time this is brought up by Brain, Pinky counters with Brain being too intolerant. An honorable mention with this is in Wakko’s Wish, when Pinky is with Pharfignewton, and Brain’s constant pestering about their relationship could be read as jealousy. Pinky needs a mousy date, after all!

Something else I would like to mention is in one episode (I forget what it’s called, I’ll try to look it up later and edit this), Brain is applying for a job. The employer asks Brain if he’s married, and Brain hesitates before saying he “has a roommate,” but that he’s occupied with his own things, which then cuts to a shot of Pinky applying lipstick.

Leading into part two of this essay, Pinky’s relationship with gender! Pinky has always been very gender nonconforming, and loves to wear dresses, do his makeup, and make himself look pretty. For the most part, this is played pretty straight, and not as a gag, like a lot of shows tend to do! It’s just a casual fact about him that he likes to present femininely sometimes.

This does play into their taking over the world plans pretty often, where Pinky wears drag, usually either to sneak into somewhere. Like in one of their earliest appearances on Animaniacs, Noah’s Lark, where they pose as a couple to board Noah’s, and I quote, “love boat.” After boarding, Noah says to himself, “Who am I to judge?” Okay. Yeah. Alright. Anyway.

I actually had less to say on this than I thought I did, but I wanted to make sure to emphasize that Pinky at the very least is coded as being Not Quite Cis, and that he’s played a key part in helping a lot of people watching the show figure out that they’re also Not Quite Cis. 

Wrapping this up because I’m hungry, but I want to throw in some more honorable mentions that I really do not see any type of cishet explanations for:

They literally go on a romantic date at a very fancy restaurant in Brain’s Night Off. This is played extremely casually, and the only remark from anyone that they receive is that they are “much smaller than the usual clients.”

Pinky, on at least one occasion, daydreams about him and Brain being a married couple, and wanting to be a housewife (the original malewife ❤)

There’s an issue in the comics where Pinky has a crush on another male mouse, and when Brain gets annoyed, Pinky reassures him that he thinks Brain is cute and quite the catch too

Brain attempting to kiss Pinky in the reboot??????

Brain actually did conquer the world once in the Halloween special, because Pinky made a deal with the devil for it, and thus Pinky got sent to hell! Brain actually went to hell and gave up the world to bring him back

Brain was extremely close to conquering the world once more in the Christmas special, but after reading what Pinky’s feelings for him were (nothing romantic, just Pinky basically just praising Brain for being so hardworking and an amazing mouse, and lamenting that he never gets anything for it), he gets so emotional that he sabotages himself and wishes everyone a Merry Christmas instead

TLDR; these mice are very queer and need therapy, and are probably the most heavily queercoded characters that I can think of in children’s media.

[queer-and-dear-books]

Title: Happily Ever Island

Author: Crystal Cestari

Genre: New Adult Fiction | Drama | Romance | Friendship | LGBTQ+

Content Warnings: N/A

Overall Rating: 9.8/10

Personal Opinion: If you’re a Disney fanatic, you’d probably love this book and its concept. An island where you can embody (almost) any iconic character from the grand house of mouse. But even a casual enjoyer such as myself can fall in love with the adventures Madison and Lanie embark on on this island. It’s full of magic and wonder and romance. It’s tough to find a more enchanting book than this.

Do I Own This Book? Nope.

Spoilers Below For My Likes & Dislikes:

Likes:

- I’m not a Disney fanatic. I’m more of a casual enjoyer. But as a casual enjoyer, I really love the references and the magic in this book. Everything from the way the island was built to the concept of “hero moments” were just lovely. I wish I could’ve read about every hero moment from the intimate point of view of the characters involved. But the backstage perspective on “Let It Go” and the romantic scene of Madison and Val watching the floating lanterns was more than enough for me.

- I also love that all the titles are Disney songs. It didn’t hit me until “Be Prepared” (the second chapter) and even then I thought it was a coincidence. I think it’s so clever and I love the way Cestari incorporated them into the chapters.

- Madison and Lanie have a wonderful friendship. Proof of that is that when they had a fight, Lanie was trying to think of ways to repair it while Madison was already barreling toward her ready to fix it. The fact that not even 24 hours later and Madison was willing to go to great lengths to say sorry shows what a great person she is.

- Speaking more on Madison, I love that we saw her creative mind at work from the start. Way before she even made it to the island. She’s a full-on romantic with a head full of grand gestures. It’s no wonder that she’s such a natural fit as a Disney cast member. That’s foreshadowing done correctly.

- Lanie’s anxiety is represented so accurately. To me. For a hot second, I was on Madison’s side until Lanie said she “didn’t want to bother Madison.” And then I was like, “ohhhh, that’s me.” I hesitate to rely on my own friends too because they have so much on their plate and I don’t want to dump anything more on it. So I get Lanie and I love that Madison is always there for her to be a shoulder to cry on or lean on. I love that Ethan didn’t question anything when she was crying and just held her. I love that she got that support because she deserves it.

- Sal and Dorothy are so cute. I especially love the imagery of this middle-aged man reciting lines from a Disney film to himself on a plane. He is adorable. I love them and I wish them nothing but the best.

- Madison’s “stepsisters” are great too. They’re genuinely nice people and honestly, I just think that’s pretty cool.

- Something else that’s cool are the activities. A canoe trip around the riverbend? Going snorkeling in King Triton’s sea? Those sound like so much fun. And I just could not stop myself from laughing out loud when the canoe intruded on the “Kiss The Girl” hero moment. Like that was genuinely so funny. Can you imagine watching “The Little Mermaid” and then a boat containing Prince Charming and Merida bursts onto the scene? And the way the musical score kept going just cracked me up.

Dislikes:

- I have my issues with Disney. But I would love to do this. But sadly, I don’t think I’d get the role I want. Would Disney allow a man to play Belle? Because I want to be surrounded by books and to slow dance with the Beast.

- You know a role I do not want? Cinderella. I cannot believe that Madison willingly put herself in a situation where she would be surrounded by an “evil” step-family. Especially with a Lady Tremaine that horrible. Granted it just so happens to be this specific Tremaine. If it was a woman who was less intense about live-action roleplay then maybe it’d be more fun. But yeah anyway, fuck that Lady Tremaine.

- Does Lanie’s mother actually say “disappointment” in that one scene before they head off for vacation? Because if so, fuck that. Bruh, Lanie was right to hang up on her. I want nothing to do with a parent like that.

[cornholio4]

Lukanette: Tales of Ladybug & Black Feline: Origins

Luka Couffaine went to Francois Dupont along with her smaller twin sister Juleka though they were in different classes. On the way to school he walked with Juleka he had found an elderly man struggling for directions and so he separated from his sister for the time being so that he could help the man. School had gone on as normal but to the shock of everyone there was a giant stone monster calling himself Stoneheart attacking the school and everyone was sent home for their saftey.

Luka and Juleka were now at their boat home the Liberty and Juleka was freaking out and was outside in the fresh air; watching their mother Anarka keeping the cannon in working order just in case they were needed if Stoneheart was to come their way. Anarka had to fight hard at City Hall to get the permit to be allowed working cannons on her home and truth be told Luka had no idea how she had managed to do so.

Though on the outside he was acting more calmly than his sister was; inside he was as freaked out and scared as everyone else. He was wondering if any of the Superheroes from the US were going to have to come here to Paris in order to take care of it. He decided to try and play a song that he had been working on and had went into his bag to take out the song sheet but at the bottom he noticed a black ring to his confusion.

Curiously he inspected it and put it on but was surprise to find a black colored mouse creature floating about with cat ears. "Hi there, I'm Plagg and I am going to be your Kwami. Do you have any camembert here because I am famished?" the creature asked as Luka was taking it quite well.

"We don't have camembert but we have sliced cheese in the fridge." Luka told him and Plagg groaned in response as he shook his head, "Kwami, is this like a spirit in the Ring? Plus what can you do?" Luka asked as Plagg looked hungry.

"Okay look, you have been chosen to gain powers which I can give you. Say 'Plagg, Claws Out' and I have to be sucked into your ring and you transform into a superhero. You get your own staff and if you say 'Catacalysm' you can do a punch that can pretty much destroy anything it touches. I have to warn you that doing so will pretty much give you a limited time before you transform back. Say 'Claws in' when you want to go back to normal yourself." Plagg explained as Luka thought it over.

"There is a monster attacking the city calling himself Stoneheart, do I use these powers to stop it?" Luka asked and Plagg nodded.

"The Butterfly Miraculous has been misused and its power has turned an unlucky person into a villain. He will be wanting your Miraculous and the one of your new partner's. Have to say you can't tell anyone about your powers." Plagg explained some more and Luka nodded thinking it will be good to know that he won't have to do this alone. He asked if he was ready to transform and Plagg replied "If we have to but later we must really talk about getting some decent cheese around here."

Luka sneaked out the window of the liberty and jumped over to the pavement, making sure that his sister and mother was not looking he went to hide an alleyway and transformed. He looked at himself in his new black suit and tried out his staff, using it as a tightrope to walk between buildings but then saw a screaming girl in a black and red suit crash into them and were entangled in the girl's yoyo.

The girl apologised saying that it wasn't on purpose, "So are you my new partner that Plagg told me about... I'm... The Black Feline..." Luka introduced himself as the girl got her yoyo free while stammering and it hit Luka on his head. The girl then saw a building being destroyed as the girl gave her name as Ladybug and asked if they could come up with a plan together.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was surprised at how everything worked out; everything went wrong when she wasn't able to purify the Akuma butterfly and it created so many Stonehearts. She was all ready to give up and give the Miraculous to her new friend Alya but had to take it back and they were able to fix her mistake and send a message to the villain Hawk Moth.

Black Feline it seemed looked like he will be a good partner; he looked determined to help and allowed her to take the lead when she thought of a plan to fix all this. Plus he was very encouraging saying that it was natural to make mistakes on her first day. Perhaps she will be getting the hang of this after all...

She was out in the rain sighing noticing Chloe Bourgeois hugging Adrien Agreste as he was going into his limo to go home. Seems that his father her idol Gabriel Agreste would be willing to let him come to school in her class and she was not really excited about that; the gum incident earlier and him being childhood friends with her school bully.

She fell down in a puddle groaning but was helped up by a taller boy who smiled at her which made her melt as he offered his jacket to her. "You... Don't really have to... How about you getting wet?" Marinette asked.

"Don't worry about it, you look like you need it more than I do. I'm Luka and do you come here?" Luka asked as Marinette's cheeks turned red as she nodded and stammered out her name. "Well nice to meet you Ma-Ma-Marinette." Luka told her and she smiled.

"Marinette, Luka?" asked Juleka coming over with her umbrella with Rose not far behind with Marinette blinking in shock. Marinette asked if Juleka knew him. "Of course I know him, he's my twin brother. Luka, Marinette here is in my class." Juleka explained and Marinette stared in shock as she glanced between the two of them a hundred times in a second trying to see any similarities or anything to suggest that they were twins.

"I will catch up with you later Juleka, Marinette do you think that I can help you walk home so I can get my jacket back afterwards?" Luka asked as Marinette stammered out yes and Juleka said she was alright with that. Rose and Juleka watched as they began walking on the sidewalk and Luka asked "I can feel the music in your soul Marinette and if you want i can play what it feels like later." Luka offered.

"So you play guitar, what music do you like? Because I love Jagged Stone..." Marinette stammered out as Luka said that he does as well.

"Oh my Juleka, Marinette and your brother... It looks like love at first sight!" Rose squealed as Juleka was grinning as well.

[blitzturtles]

Title: It Goes Like This (It Starts Like This Universe)

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo

Pairing(s): BruAbba

Summary: Abbacchio isn’t a morning person. Never has been. He prefers the comfort that comes with a blanket of darkness to the bright hours of the early morning. There’s less eyes. Less people. Less performance. Unfortunately, he’s gone and fallen in love with a man that believes that the day begins before the sun has even broken the horizon.

Notes: This is for the first place to my 300 Follower Giveaway! @bucciaratisfishmarket requested BruAbba set in my It Starts Like This verse with some disabled slice of life/morning routine. Ngl, I was super excited to get to do something in this verse, so thank you!

Thank you to everyone that followed and participated, and a special thanks to @bucciaratisfishmarket! I hope you like your fic!

Additional Notes: Also, the pill organizer described in the fic can be found on Etsy: https://www.etsy.com/listing/1022344896/boneyard-real-bones-weekly-7-day-pill It's cool and beautiful, and I probably don't do it justice. Definitely go check it out!

-

Abbacchio isn’t a morning person. Never has been. He prefers the comfort that comes with a blanket of darkness to the bright hours of the early morning. There’s less eyes. Less people. Less performance. Unfortunately, he’s gone and fallen in love with a man that believes that the day begins before the sun has even broken the horizon. It’s leftover from Bruno’s days helping his father with the boat, and, later, his days running Polpo’s errands. Chasing people down for money and answers. What comfort Abbacchio can find in the night, Bruno can find just fine in the light hours of the morning.

Fortunately for both of them, Abbacchio is more than capable of running on a schedule, of waking up at the same time everyday and forcing his mind and body into cooperation. He did it for years for school and then the academy. It’s nothing he isn’t used to, and he’s happiest when Bruno is happy, no matter what that entails, which is how he finds himself waking up to Bruno’s second alarm before the man can snooze it again.

The thing about Bruno’s new medication—a pill large in size and equally ridiculous in the length of its name—is that it makes it damn near impossible for him to get going in the morning the way he used to. Before, Bruno practically operated on his own internal clock. Waking up before his alarm had even gone off and fetching them both their first cup of caffeine; it used to be the thing that made greeting the day a bit more tolerable.

Now, Bruno snoozes. Alarm after alarm, until they run out. He’s tried music, absurd volumes, and even relocating the damned clock halfway across the room. None of it helps, so Leone compensates. He wakes up around the second or third alarm, turns the rest off, and kisses Bruno’s cheek before he rolls out of bed.

Sometimes there’s a quiet plea, “five more minutes”, that endears Abbacchio so completely that his mood settles, not nearly as bitchy as he could be upon reaching the kitchen and finding someone else already there.

“Why are you awake?” Okay, so. Still bitchy. But he doesn’t sneer his words quite as bad.

Narancia, for his part, looks completely startled by the prospect of someone else existing at such an ungodly hour, but he manages to avoid outright screaming. That’s a plus. Abbacchio isn’t sure his head could take it this early. “What are you doing?”

“I asked first.”

Narancia narrows his eyes, but he caves within seconds. “I got a test in like two hours, and Fugo’s gonna kill me if I don’t pass.”

Abbacchio snorts at the idea, “Yeah, he will.”

“Not helping!”

“Never said I planned to,” Abbacchio points out as he starts rummaging through the cabinets for two mugs. He sets them on the counter and gets to work brewing their coffee. Decaf these days, for Bruno’s sake. Abbacchio could keep drinking his usual, but he takes solace in the bitter taste of his coffee instead. It seems kinder that way, especially when he knows how much Bruno’s been struggling without caffeine.

“Why are you awake?”

“I’m always awake this early,” next is breakfast, which is easier said than done. It’s rare that Abbacchio wakes up with a stomach for anything. Too many years of skipping breakfast in favor of a bottle did a number on him, but it’s not optional anymore. Neither one of them will be able to keep their meds down without something to eat, so he picks through the refrigerator until he comes up with fruit and yogurt as his best solution.

“Really?” Narancia asks, wrinkling his nose, “Why?”

“Ask Bruno,” Abbacchio says, dismissive. He’s really not in the mood to talk to people that aren’t currently snoozing in his bed.

“You’re not much fun in the morning.”

“Am I ever?”

“Touché.”

Abbacchio snorts. He should be offended, but he knows the kid is being a smartass. It’s his own fault for setting himself up. “Why don’t you go bother Fugo? I’m sure he’ll be happy to help you study.”

“Have you ever tried waking Fugo up?”

“No, can’t say that I have.” That’s always been Bruno’s job, assuming that Fugo hadn’t already woken up on his own.

“It’s too early to get stabbed.”

“Touché.”

They go back and forth for a while longer. At least until Abbacchio’s patience runs out, and he’s finished putting breakfast together. He dismisses himself with little warning and doesn’t feel the least bit guilty when the kid looks a little startled by the abruptness of his departure. He has things to get done for the day, and those things don’t necessarily include being part of Narancia’s obvious effort to procrastinate.

“Bruno,” Abbacchio calls when he steps back into their room after Moody opens the door for him. “Your five minutes are up.”

“Five more?” Bruno asks, voice muffled. His head is barely visible with only a tuft of hair sticking out from a pile of blankets. It’s cute, and Abbacchio is a complete sucker for giving in.

“Last one, tesoro,” Abbacchio warns as he sets Bruno’s cup and food down on the bedside table.

There’s a muffled reply that might be a quiet thanks, though it’s almost impossible to tell with the way Bruno pulls the blankets even tighter around himself.

Abbacchio rummages through the drawer of his nightstand until he finds what he’s looking for before taking up a spot at the end of the bed with his food and drink in hand. He sips at the decaf slowly, wrinkling his nose at the first taste. God, he misses caffeine. As expected, he doesn’t feel much better about his first bite of homemade parfait (and he can almost hear Polnareff’s protest at his calling it that). The rest goes down about the same, but the motion is mechanical at that point. One bite after the other with the occasional sip from his mug to wash it all down until everything is gone.

Abbacchio sets the dishes on the floor and reaches for the pill organizer sitting on the bed beside him. He absently runs his fingers over the lid, where small bones have been set in resin. He can still remember the first time he saw it. The black shine had caught his eye first, but, on closer examination, the thing that had convinced him to buy the organizer had been the mouse bones, delicately placed and striking against the background.

What he hadn’t realized then is that the little organizer would a significant adjustment to his daily routine. Having a week’s worth of medication in one place, already sectioned in dosed amounts, had significantly increased his medication compliance. Oddly enough, it’s had a rather hefty impact on his overall mental health. Now, when anti-inflammatories and bronchodilators and steroids are part of his daily regiment as much as his SSRI’s, it’s even more vital for him to consistently get his meds in. Otherwise, the consequences tend to be pneumonia and an unwanted hospital trip with a round of antibiotics and even stronger steroids. And that’s to say nothing of what happens when he’s running low on serotonin.

He’s caught up in his own thoughts when Bruno hooks his chin over his shoulder and peers down at the little organizer.

“I never did ask you if those are real,” Bruno muses quietly.

“I thought you were taking five more.”

“‘m awake,” Bruno answers, clearly half-asleep.

Abbacchio huffs a soft, amused laugh. He turns his head to press a kiss to the side of Bruno’s nose. “Sure you are, amore.”

“I am.”

“M’hm,” Abbacchio smiles, reflecting the expression on Bruno’s face, though his is notably less sleep-depressed. Bruno looks a lot like a light gust of wind might knock him out, and it’s so damn endearing that Abbacchio can barely handle it. Instead, he looks back down at the pill organizer and answers Bruno’s earlier question, “They are. Real, I mean.”

“They’re lovely,” Bruno says, and he means it. Odd as some might find Abbacchio’s taste, Bruno has always found beauty in it. “Perhaps I should get one.”

“Might be a good idea.” It would be easier to see if Bruno ever missed a dose, and it would certainly be easier to avoid that disaster all together. “There are other options. You could go with something—oceanic, maybe?”

Bruno hums at the thought. “I think I’d like that.”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” by which Abbacchio means that he’ll actively go looking for one. Anything to make Bruno’s life a touch easier.

“Oh, you brought breakfast,” Bruno says, moving away from Abbacchio to peer curiously at the morning’s offerings. “You’re entirely too kind.”

Abbacchio huffs a laugh at that, “For all that you’ve done for us? Hardly.” He pops open the side hatch of his organizer and dumps the day’s pills into his hand. Abbacchio pulls a face at the number of them and looks down at his mug. Right, he had meant to save a sip.

“Here,” Bruno offers his own with a smile. “We’ll get more in a bit.”

“If you’re sure...” Abbacchio could always go get his own, but he has a feeling that doing so will result in more small talk, and he’s not quite up for that yet.

“I am,” Bruno reassures him before taking up the bowl of yogurt and fruit in absence of his coffee. “Just leave enough for me to take mine.”

[jadeyarts]

ive been seeing ideas for crooklings (sales assistants/surrogate children similar to the nooklings - also called “reddlings,” but i prefer the name “crooklings”) for redd drifting about and i kinda LOVE the concept !!! so i couldn’t help but draw my own concepts for the idea... or maybe four concepts. cuz there’s so many interesting ways to take the idea and i love them all so much.

concept 1: fox twins paralleling the nookling twins. fraternal twins ruby and rusty, named after two shades of red that start with the letter R. admittedly, the idea of them being boy-girl fraternal twins is inspired by gravity falls. i love the memes comparing redd to grunkle stan, lmao. and i had almost decided against naming ruby, well, ruby, because i know there’s already the villager ruby... but then i remembered animal crossing has literally three different characters named tom and two different characters named hazel, so, you know what? its fine.

i also kinda wanted to stick to the “similar but slightly altered color scheme” thing the nooks got going on - have you noticed the nooklings fur is slightly lighter colored than tom’s fur? well i thought it’d be interesting if the crooklings fur were slightly DARKER colored than redd’s fur, plus fox kits irl seem to be slightly browner than adults, and i thought it’d be fun if they had brown-tipped ears like redd does in the ac ova (contrast to the white he has in the games)

concept 2: fox triplets paralleling the nookling twins. rubens, reynolds and renoir, named after three famous painters whose names started with the letter R. you may be wondering, why triplets? well, redd lives and works from a boat, like a certain... popular disney duck...? in fact, the creation of HDL was directly inspired by the existence of mickey mouse’s own twin nephews - the idea being that three nephews instead of just two would cause more problems. since the concept of redd being given little underlings is inspired by the existence of the nooklings, and redd causes problems, it’s something that i think would suit him.

one triplet is lazy and uninvolved, one is excitable but aimless, and one is methodical and efficient... but which one is which? not even redd can tell.

concept 3: different species assistant. there’s so many directions to take this idea, but i am admittedly fond of the idea of a little red panda working for/with a red fox. i’ve seen this specific idea around a bit, and it’s cute... red squad. for this specific design i’m thinking russ as a name - it means “little red one!” :D

concept 3.5: KITTENS?! redd’s technically a kitsune, right? so what if... he took in... another yokai that is known for its multiple tails??  for these two i’m considering derailing from the R themes to name them... scarlett and smudge! both named after semi-famous cats in popular culture. scarlett being a shade of red, and smudge being a word that can apply to paint... but the latter’s namesake had also been a cat who worked at a museum. how appropriate.

could you imagine if they all existed at once? redd’s got an army of babies, ha ha! (maybe someday i’d like to draw redd being surrounded by every single crookling design i can find? though i don’t know if it’s feasible)

[klbwriting]

Pirate’s Heart - Chapter 3

I’m An Albatroaz

Fandom: Six of Crows

Pairing: Kaz/female!Reader

Summary: Kaz plans a heist that goes disastraously wrong

Taglist: @sixofshadowandbone @thedelusionreaderbitch @itsemy01 @angelicdanvers @marinettepotterandplagg @screen-to-stage @aysegust @sagewrites111 @lilyoflower @hey-peeps @starjane312 @spawn0fsatan @myalupinblack @ameliathackray @moondustmarauder​

Let me tell you all a story about a mouse named Lorry Yeah, Lorry was a mouse in a big brown house She called herself the hoe, with the money money flow But fuck that little mouse 'cause I'm an albatraoz

It was early in the morning, the sun was just starting to rise and Kaz hadn't slept all night.  It was hard to sleep when a person named Lady Heartless was sharing a room with you and she hadn't been sleeping either.  They had seemed to be staring at each other the whole night, studying the other.  It was when the light of the sun was just peaking into the window that one of them finally spoke.

"I know a secret about you Kaz Brekker," she said softly.  He tried to keep his face blank but she saw some curiosity in his eyes.  "I know something happened to you, something bad."

"I'm a pirate, we don't exactly because pirates because good things happen," he said, mocking that she thought she knew him so well.  He was trying to keep himself calm, the look on her face was pity and he had a feeling that she did know what had happened to him.

"I know what happened to you on this ship...what the others did before you killed the captain and took over," she said.  Kaz could feel his face get paler but he tried to ignore it, swallowing hard and scowling.  

"How the fuck do you know any of that?" he asked, gripping the dagger that was hidden under his mattress.  He didn't want to kill her but if she planned on trying to use this secret against his crew he would gut her without a thought. 

  "I don't have a heart, so I learned how to read other people's hearts.  In their words, their mannerisms, their eyes.  A few years ago when we were stuck in that hallway together, hiding because my job had gone back and you made it worse, I touched your arm, just for a moment but the look on your face I have only ever seen in the faces of the girls I release from the pleasure vessels.  That kind of horror is unique," she explained.  Kaz felt his breath hitch in his throat.  He could see now in her eyes the pity but something else, admiration.

   "Why tell me this now?" he asked.  

"Because this is a job we're working together on, and its only fair, you have a secret hanging over my head and I have one over yours, we're even," she said.  She sat up, the night shirt she wore slipping down her shoulder.  Kaz had never seen a woman in his shirt before and he couldn't lie, he didn't hate it.  He noticed that her skin looked soft and smooth until it got to the target like scar on her chest.

  "Is that where it happened?" he asked even though he knew the answer.  She looked down and pushed the shirt up to cover the scars, nodding.  "What did it feel like?"  She barked out a dark laugh.

"It felt like someone was ripping a vital organ from my body and before I could recover someone put a knife through it," she said.  "Your uncle is a fucking prick."  Kaz laughed himself at this, showing a rare smile.  Y/N caught it and smiled a little herself.  His smile was nice, bigger than she thought it would be. "I can't argue with that," Kaz said, getting up himself.  He stood, stretching his limbs, shirtless and Y/N watched, the light hitting him just so that she thought for a moment that he was shining.  It was possibly the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.  She quickly moved to stand, grabbing her pants to hide her blush before he could see it.  Lord, she had laid with men before, and women, why was this one boy making her feel like a virginal maid.  She slid the pants on and stripped off his shirt, pulling on her own.  Kaz had slid his on also and watched her finish dressing, sliding on her boots and putting her long hair up in a bun on her head.  He liked it better down but he wasn't going to tell her that.   "So we should probably wake the others and tell them the plan," Y/N said, moving towards the door.  Kaz nodded and followed her out.  He requested that only his first mates and her mates join them in the lounge.  

"Now Rollins' home is a fortress, heavily guarded at every entrance except for the waterway.  It has wide bars that they assume no one could fit through," Kaz explained, showing them a drawn up blueprint of the fortress.   Y/N glanced to Inej.

"Think you could fit?" she asked.  Kaz looked at her surprised.  He would have just commanded Inej to go through the bars or miss out on the money but she asked.  He was going to ask her about that later.  Inej nodded.  "Alright, after Inej gets in what's next?"

"There is a pulley system inside to raise the bars for releasing the bodies of the executed that can pile up there, she will need to use a device that Wylan is creating to blow the levy and raise it for us," he explained.  "Once we're in we split into two groups, one group goes to the treasury on the second flor and creates a diversion, that group will be Inej, Jesper, Nina, and Matthias.  You and I will go directly to the sea witch being kept in main cell here in the basement.  The diversion should have them low staffed and we should be able to handle anyone who's still there.  Exactly half an hour after we enter we should be meeting Wylan at the entrance of the waterway to head back to the Crow."   Y/N looked at the plans again and squinted some.

"How will the group at the treasury escape if they are creating the diversion?" she asked.  Kaz smirked.  

"Another feat for your Inej, she will have to be a phantom in the room.  When the others are caught the guards will be heading back to their stations and should only leave one or two guards to handle transporting the rest of the group.  She will sneak behind them, give Matthias the lockpicks I will provide and take out the guard in the rear.  Matthias will free himself and handle the other guard.   Y/N nodded and had to admit it was a smart plan.

"You know a lot about this place," she said.  "How it functions."

"I grew up there, I should know it," he said.  Only those in that room knew of his origins and he looked at the women.  "That information doesn't leave this room."  They looked to Y/N and she nodded.

"We can keep secrets just like you," she said, eyeing him close.  He stared back at her.  "But Brekker, remember, you better not just be ruining my life again."

"O I only want to fuck up your night," he said.  Jesper rolled his eyes.  

"Lord you two have a catch phrase," he muttered.

"Excuse me?" Y/N asked, glaring at the man.  His dark eyes danced with laughter.

"Please, every time we meet you two say that.  'Kaz you better not ruin my life' 'O Y/N I just want to fuck up your night' you guys just scream power couple..."

"Enough of that talk," Kaz snapped, cane coming down on Jesper's hand and making him yelp.  "Rest up we leave at 9 tonight."

Inej studied the bars in the waterway, swimming in front of them pushing to find any weak spots, testing the width with her head.  Just when Kaz thought the girl was going to shrug and give up she slipped through the bars and climbed on the narrow walkway just beyond.  She held her hand out and Wylan handed her the small bomb from the rowboat they were in.  She light the device and put it on the levy mechanism before hopping into the water.  The bomb blew but the bang wasn't startling, it sounded like someone had shot a gun for target practice.  They hoped no one would really notice as the bars rose and they rowed in.  Wylan stayed with the boat as the others made their way through the waterway and up the stairs.  This led to a morgue and the smell hit them all hard.  Jesper and Nina gagged, nearly losing their dinners.  Kaz took a deep breath through his mouth before pressing on and out the door.

"Jesper, up the stairs down there, will take you to the treasury.  Half an hour don't be late or we're leaving without you," he said.  Jesper gave him a look that said he didn't believe him before disappearing with the others.  Kaz looked at Y/N who was waiting by the door towards the cells.  

"How did you find out about this?" she asked as they snuck down the halls, looking for the sea witch.  Kaz rolled his eyes.  He didn't like talking during a job, but he remembered that Y/N was a chatterbox during a heist.  

"I was in Port Hilib and it was a rumor, I bribed a guard here and they confirmed it," he said.  Well that was clearly not what she wanted to hear.

"This seems foolish, are you sure that he wasn't lying?" she asked.  Kaz growled.  He had thought of that just now.  He knew he had a need for revenge against his uncle but he didn't realize it had given him tunnel vision.  She was right, this could be a trap and he had just brought not only his crew but her.  O fuck, his uncle thought she was dead.  He would know immediately who she was now and she would be in more danger.  Kaz didn't often care about his competition but he liked Y/N and didn't want her dead.

"Guess we'll find out," he said with as much bravado as he could muster.  He could see that she didn't believe him but she was still following.  

"Guess we will," Y/N said, knowing that they were probably running into a trap.  She could only hope that the others got out and that her and Kaz's brains combined could get them out of this one.  They turned the corner of the final row of cells to find all of them empty.  Now Y/N knew they were in trouble.  The only people in the cells were Pekka Rollins and his second in command Barcham.  

"Hello nephew...O I see you've brought a guest..." Rollins froze then as Y/N came further into the light and he realized who she was.  " Y/N, how...you're supposed to be dead!"   Y/N actually just laughed.  Pekka looked so old.  

"Ok, how long have I been dead?  You look terrible Pekka!" she said, still cackling.  Kaz looked at her worried.  He had been on the receiving end of a beating from Pekka and though it had been years he still felt a twinge of fear in his chest at the look in his uncle's eyes.  

"How long have you been around?" he asked, snarling.  

"About 5 years now, the Menagerie?  Lady Heartless?  Ring any bells ya prick?" she said.  Now Kaz was panicking a bit internally.  He wanted to survive this encounter and she wasn't making that an easy task.  

"So you were dead 15 years and suddenly you came back? How?" he demanded.  She rolled her eyes while Kaz tried to back out of the hallway.  Barcham slid in behind him and held up his pistol.  Kaz froze and glared.   "Pekka, I traded my heart for legs...then you stabbed me in an empty chest cavity.  I literally have no heart, that was not a figure of speech the sea witch was using," she explained as if she were talking to one of her younger girls.  Pekka looked positively livid, she could have sworn steam was coming out of his ears but this was just too much fun.  

"Um, Y/N, I would really like you to shut the fuck up now," she heard Kaz say from behind her.  She turned to see him with a pistol aimed at his head.  She nodded and held up her hands, dropping her own pistol.  Pekka moved over and grabbed her arm roughly.  She felt herself getting sick but held it down.  Kaz looked just as sickened when Barcham took his arm and started leading them out of the cells.

"So the sea witch story?" Kaz asked.

"Just a trap to get you here.  Your little friends will all be on a prison ship to the Outer Isle in the morning, and you Kaz will hopefully learn your place in this life.   Y/N, I might just make sure you're dead this time," Pekka said.   Y/N looked at Kaz and he stared at her as they were led away into captivity.

[keltonwrites]

I bought a house in the middle of nowhere

“Yeah, I loved it, but she’d never move there.” It was something akin to that, at least. He didn’t mean any mischief, no deceit or planning. It was an honest take on what, at the time, was true. I saw the road into town on Google Maps, noted that it was closed during the winter, acknowledged the reality that a person can own a snowmobile, and I said, “we are not moving there.” But, all good truths are just dares in the making.

And here I am, living in the “there” I said I would not. Two years ago, I left my job at Headspace for a life reset. It was pre-pandemic, and Ben and I were planning a big road trip. Our perfect paradise in Topanga, CA, had crystallized itself as many people’s perfect paradise, and those “many people” all had more money than us. Our options to buy a home were nil, and home-buying was essentially all we wanted. Ben’s a builder and I’m a world builder, and we wanted somewhere to invest that didn’t belong to someone else. We packed the car with the tent and the bikes and the dog and all the things that come with tents and bikes and dogs, and off we went on our own Tour de l’Ouest, looking for a place to call home. We knew what we wanted, knew our odds of finding it, and hit the road anyway. Here was the dream list — concocted by two pie-in-the-sky dummies who married each other:

Not rainy or consistently windy

Notable access to the arts

Remote and challenging to get to/close neighbors

Wild West influenced architecture

Progressive community

Exceptional trail access out the front door

High-speed internet

In our budget

And my personal favorite: had to “feel right” Good luck to us with a list like that, but thus began our hunt. We camped in the snow, tried every dirty chai in the Rockies, and explored every town we could. Whatever a good time it was, it felt useless. Every town Ben was OK with, I hated. Every town I was OK with, Ben despised. And the few places we both loved required money we just didn’t have. We came home with our sails down, limping into the harbor of our rental. But as is the way with romantics, our dreams began to slowly eclipse our reality. Books fell victim to Zillow and Trulia. TV was replaced by the MLS. All writing time was dedicated to Realtor.com. Hours were spent pouring over maps, county records, and updating spreadsheets that tracked price per square foot compared to beds and baths. Over time, all that internetting led to one singular town of 180 people at 10,000 feet in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado with a road that said “Closed Winters” on Google Maps. Look, I don’t know what happened. Ben found this town on a map, I said don’t be ridiculous, and after a year or so of him telling people I'd never move here, here I am, being ridiculous. Was it reverse psychology? Maybe. Was it the charming “town plan” that mandated all houses be rustic cabins and forbade AirBnB? Could be. Was it the fact that when I looked at Strava’s Heatmap, it showed what seemed like thousands of miles of trails just out the front door? I mean, yes. All these things played a part, but all I know for certain is that one day I woke up and said, “we’re going to move there.” Ben doubted this conviction (and the realities behind it) thus cementing it into place in my head. In a town of 180 people there’s only ~60 houses, which means maybe 2 or 3 get listed per year — but my spreadsheet had the proof: we hadn’t missed our chance yet in this tiny town. The data showed a strong likelihood there would be at least two houses listed within the calendar year. This, however, was also our last chance. The spreadsheet also showed that if we didn’t find a house this year, we wouldn’t be able to afford one the next. We called a realtor, made our case, and harangued her until she believed us that we were truly the kind of yahoos who would move to an avalanche field and stay there. And then it happened. A pocket listing. It was a darling home built in 1890. It had the beds, the baths, and the views. We were the first and only to know. We put in an offer, they agreed, and we would come to see the house in a few weeks. But in those few weeks, the circumstances changed. The sellers lost their own sweet deal, and they couldn’t sell yet. Their agent promised we had right of first refusal, it was only a matter of time. Ben lamented, I preached patience, and we went to see the house that was no longer for sale anyway.

It was a quiet winter morning in Covid when we drove across the packed snow to meet our realtor outside the house. The sun was out and the 13 degrees Fahrenheit felt warm. I unzipped my jacket, mask on my face. I took long videos and talked about where I would set up my office and where we’d put the bikes. As we closed up and I settled into a future where this house would eventually be mine, our realtor told us there were comps in the area — other residents quietly interested in potentially closing out. Would we like to see them? Sure, let’s.

One home came with an incredible commercial kitchen. The whole house was a whopping 3500 sq ft if my memory serves me correct, which falls under the category of “houses too big to find your cat in."

Another home had an open-air-to-the-kitchen bathroom.

The third was dark and overpriced with cracked windows and open beer cans scattered about.

And then, plans changed.  “Hey guys, there’s actually one more house we can see.” The last house we saw was a log cabin, nestled in the hillside by itself, with massive A-frame windows looking out onto the peaks beyond. Inside was a labyrinth of a life lived long and large. The cabin was built and loved by a man we’ll call Jack. Jack was 82, and as we walked toward the front door on that sunny winter morning, he exited with two beers in his pockets, headed to the mountain to ski. Jack was an attorney — in his life he’d been both criminal and defender — and from the stories, somewhat interchangeably. There were artifacts from running in the same scenes as Hunter S. Thompson and Willie Nelson; there were stuffed birds, bad books, sheet-covered couches, smoked spliffs, and piles and piles of mouse shit. Every inch of the house was lived in, and not just by people. You think millennials like plants? No. This man likes plants. The biggest monstera deliciosa I’ve ever seen, spanning some 10 feet wide and 15 feet tall. Draping cactuses, spider plants, massive aloes, and an ambitious hoya carnosa clawing its way to the top of the massive fireplace. But there were problems. I’m trying to be diplomatic saying the house was lived in. The wood by the door handles was dyed black from years of hand grease rubbing against it. The carpet in the upstairs was soiled almost everywhere with bat scat. Newspaper was stuffed between the massive logs to keep the wind out. There was cardboard taped over almost every window, blankets nailed over the others. Half the doors wouldn’t open. It was unnerving to touch the crusted light switches. It was early enough in the season of Covid-fear that touching anything felt like gambling. On our way back to our rental in the bigger neighboring town, we shared our awe and our no-ways, lamenting how long we’d have to wait for the little 1890s fixer upper. That night, I sent the video I took of the cabin to my parents. “Can you believe this?” I asked. And do you know what my dad said? “Great log construction.” After that, the cabin was all we could talk about. “Could you believe those plants?” “Did you see how big those logs were?” “I just googled Jack, look at this.” “Do you know what the insulating factor of logs is?” “How much did he say he was asking?” It came down to the plants. Amidst all the chaos in that house, the tender care of those decades-old plants sung the clearest. This wasn’t just a place Jack lived in, it was a place that wanted to be lived in. We made an offer the next day.

Jack had six months to clear out his 30 odd years of collecting, and the town had six months to speculate about the worrisome Californians moving to their high-altitude, high-risk town. The town itself is an old mining town. It rests in a high valley, surrounded by peaks over 13,000ft, and is over six hours from the nearest major airport. Five people died around this town in avalanches this past year. The dirt road into town is littered with avalanche fields, warning visitors to not stop when driving in. The other way out is a pass road, only drivable in the warm months, but you could skin out if it was dire. Most August days, the high is in the mid-60s. The valley is blanketed in wildflowers, and the aspens littering the mountainsides suggest a promising fall display. The town had a heyday, a low day, and now it’s a community of preppers, adventurers, appreciators, and “get all these idiots away from me”ers. We don’t know these people yet, but the ones we’ve met have the same like to live hard attitude we do. Heli-ski guides, ex-CIA agents, woodworkers, bakers, teachers, just a general can-do group of people. The kind of people that see a California license plate and peer with skepticism between the thin gap over their sunglasses and under their caps.

You might say I’m romanticizing the place, but the residents are worse. Like all good old-timers, they’re full of threats: “wait’ll you see the snow drifts,” “let’s see how you do outrunning an avalanche,” “good luck with the winds,” “the last Californians didn’t last a year.” God, what does that remind me of?

“Yeah, I loved it, but she’d never move there.”

With every taunt, my teeth ground more enamel, fingers rolling into a clench. And maybe Jack recognized this intensity, because on the day of closing, he hosted a gathering for us in the town's open space. He had us introduce ourselves to the skeptical locals, and I made my case in court, eyes narrowed and lips curled. “I’m the daughter of a smokejumper and wildlife biologist. I grew up watching the wind and the door. I’ve lived in big cities, small boats, and more than one cabin. I always take the stairs, I never use air-conditioning, and I’m a very good shot.” I’m just a girl, standing in front of a town, asking them to give her a fucking chance. Jack stepped forward to speak. “You know, I had my doubts about a couple Californians coming to look at my house. But these people? These are the nicest people you’re ever gonna meet.” And then I helped Jack set up his cot so he could spend his last night under the stars in the town that kept him young. Cooper ran circles with the other dogs. People brought homemade cocktails and bowls of dip and we felt welcomed. Even the mayor, a fellow writer, came and she struck up a conversation. “I hear you’ve got a little bit of a following on social media!” She teased. “I guess, nothing wild.” “Well I just wanted to let you know if you ever geotag this town, I’ll drag you out of it.” She grinned. This was a special place. And every visitor who couldn’t handle the realities of being here threatened the very wellbeing of the people who lived here. This town survives on a delicate balance. They source their own water, manage their own roads, and fervently protect the land and the people around them. Their stories about racing avalanches, snowmobiling in the dark of night to the doctor’s house, hunkering down in each other’s homes as the storms pass — these stories were bylaws. You can join when you’ve proven you’re ready to join. By their own projection, they are hardy and steadfast people, and when they see a Californian, they see something fleeting. Many years ago, I worked in the British Virgin Islands. The people born and raised there were called Belongers. At the customs office, the placards above the lines literally read, “If you belong, stand here” and “If you do not belong, stand here.” Whether or not we belong isn't up to the town council, and it's not up to these residents. It's up to years spent drifting my old Mustang in the snow on the way to school, up to Ben's months and months spent in the backcountry, up to my years of reading fire reports and assisting with evacuations, up to Ben's ability to read the landscape and the weather, up to my doggedness, his diligence, and our pathological love to do difficult things well. It’s up to us, to these old logs, and to this valley. Doesn't mean we'll belong, but it does mean we'll try. And for the record, the road is open in the winter. But do these sound like the kind of people who’d tell Google that? Next week, a tour of the house that we get to call ours — stuffed with newspaper, run by plants, and filled with mice. P.S. Here's where we get our mail.

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[monstersandmaw]

Female tiefling guard x human princess (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This has been up on Patreon for a week, and now it’s time to share it here!

Contents: a short, fiesty, gives-no-fucks female tiefling guard, some anti-tiefling sentiments from the other guards, a soft but 'don't mess with me' princess, an army of attacking demons, a minotaur best friend, and an nsfw scene to finish. Wordcount: 6756

A dull rumbling startled Salanei from her bed and set her reaching for the deep well of magic inside her in a heartbeat. The castle was shaking.

“Impossible,” she hissed, but other guards were tumbling out of their bunks all around her, some scrambling to draw weapons, others calling sparkling magic to their hands, though there were admittedly fewer of those. The castle was built on a promontory of black rock, harsh and stark against the chill morning light, but it was as old as the land itself and nothing should have been able to make the foundations shudder like that.

Unless…

Tilting her head to one side, letting her thick, messy, black braid slide down over one shoulder, Salanei opened her core of magic a little to the surroundings. At first all she found were the life-sparks of the other guards, but then, like a murmuration of birds on the horizon, she felt something far more sinister. “We’re under attack,” she yelled, stuffing her boots on and sprinting for the door. “Demons.”

The tiefling ignored the way the others dismissed her or scoffed at her - whether through deep-rooted prejudice or uneasy disbelief at her cry of ‘demons’ - and she bolted through the palace like a rabbit through its home warren. She didn’t think, she didn’t stop, she didn’t pause; she raced up back stairs and along half-forgotten passageways, and emerged, gasping, in what had once been an upper, open-air walkway that connected the main part of the castle to the residential wing. Her boots skidded on the rough stonework, grit and dust slipping beneath her soles, and she barely stopped before the gaping abyss into the courtyard below swallowed her.

Where a thick buttress of stone had arched across the space for centuries, now a smoking, singed stump of the bridge remained and the walkway was completely gone. “Shit.” Across it, she could see more of the royal guard backing into the part of the castle that would lead to the residential quarters of the princess after only a few staircases and passages. From the looks of it, they’d only just escaped back along the parapet in time.

Looking out at the landscape around the castle, she froze, horror icing over her veins.

Demons swarmed down the hillside and pooled around the outer walls of the castle to form a seething, foetid moat, their shapes as varied as the horrific noises they made; some with wings, some with horns, some with lashing tails and glinting claws. One or two of them breathed gouts of flame into the dawning sky, and from somewhere deep below at the curtain wall of the castle courtyard, the bellow of a bull in a blooded rage made her ears ring. A second later, the whole castle trembled again and a rain of fine particles and chunks of stone clattered down around her.

They were going to breech the wall.

“Fuck.”

The span across the gulf of empty air wasn’t so big that she couldn’t use a little magic to propel herself over it, and so, summoning a gust of air to spring her forwards, she leapt lightly off the stonework behind her and let the updraft catapult her onto the far tower. She landed hard but rolled through it and came to stand smoothly on her feet, finding herself face to chest with an enormous, familiar guard.

“Brandon, it’s…”

“Bloody chaos,” he said, falling into step beside her as they moved through the shrapnel-scarred archway and into the tower beyond.

The huge minotaur was about as broad across at the shoulders as Salanei was tall, and his huge war axe was cradled gently in his massive hands; ready. He was the only person who had ever treated her with any genuine respect at the castle, and the two were somewhat unlikely sparring partners more often than not.

“Who’s behind it?” she asked as they trotted down the stairs and a pounding, dolorous bell began to sound from the heart of the castle.

He shook his shaggy, black head, the patch of white at the front of his forelock dancing in the low light. “Not sure. Reports suggest they came from the west.”

“Dorhul?” she asked, steady pace stalling in time with her horrified, faltering heartbeat.

Brandon shrugged. “Seems likely. He’s always wanted to add the kingdom to his collection. With Ria’s father so ill…”

Salanei’s black eyes narrowed and she fought the urge to ram her hard horns against a wall with the wave of bitter spite that washed up inside her. The minotaur, clearly seeing the echo of a familiar urge bubbling up in the tiefling, laid a hand on her shoulder. It was so big, it engulfed the joint completely, and the weight of it steadied her. “Easy. We’ll get through this.”

“Where is the princess now?”

“The Elite Guard took her down to the undercroft.”

Salanei’s heart lurched and she stopped. “They’re taking her out by boat? Bran, that escape passage only leads to one place… if she’s caught out on the open water…”

“Dawn’s not far off. The sun rises over the lake,” he explained, but she could tell he was as unhappy with the plan as she was. “If the demons can even bear to look at the sunlight as it hits the water, they won’t see her. The glare will be too much. I think they expected to have broken through by now, but this castle’s a hard nut to crack, even with those numbers. It should buy her time to escape.”

He had a point. It was a flimsy hope and a prayer, but it was all they had.

They made it two floors down before the ring of steel and the snarl of demons reached their ears, and Salanei swore again, drawing deep on her reserves of magic so that it lapped like a vast lake a the very forefront of her mind; ready.

She flung a conjured talisman at the nearest demon’s head and the creature exploded into a mist of gore and black ichor. Not pausing to get splattered, she ducked low and aimed another spell - a lancing spike of ice this time - at a twin-headed monstrosity, one half of which was occupied with the head of a guard in its maw, the other half of which had just spotted her. The spike went through both skulls and pinned them to the wall before Salanei had even finished dancing lightly around them.

Quick and light as a mouse in a hay barn, she dodged and struck, until finally she was at the far end of the corridor. From behind her, she heard Brandon bellow a warning at her, asking her to wait, but she was gone like a weasel. Protect the princess. That had been what the old king had demanded of her in return for the shelter and comfort he had offered, and she had gladly accepted the trade.

Shouldering the door at the end of the corridor with a little extra magic behind the gesture, she burst through in a barrage of splintered wood and iron studs as the ramming spell cloaked around her shoulders made short work of it. Instantly, she found three spear tips at her throat, and she froze.

“Stop!” came familiar voice, and were it not for the glinting blades hovering so close to her pulse that she could see her blackberry-purple skin reflected in them, she might have gone slack with relief. “Let her go.”

“Highness,” Salanei said, bowing gratefully from the waist. “They’ve breached the castle from above, and they’re trying to get in from below. They’re only a floor above you now.”

She watched the princess’ freckled cheeks blanch, and she swayed ever so slightly before rallying her courage and pushing back her shoulders. “I have been advised that the undercroft is the safest route out of here, all things considered. Do you disagree?”

Before Salanei could reply, a guard stepped directly in front of her, his deep, maroon livery blocking her view of the princess. “Highness, we must leave. Now. Let the gutter rat fight the demons, but we have to get you to safety.”

Salanei’s lip curled back off her sharp canines and she snarled a warning at the soldier who ignored her completely.

It was a miracle that she even heard the soft tread of slippered feet on the stone floor above the clangour outside, but when the guard’s spine straightened and he shifted awkwardly back to where he’d been standing, Salanei almost snorted with laughter.

The princess’ face seemed carved from marble; all softness had shattered into hard lines, her eyes blazed green, her strawberry blonde hair falling behind her like a shield made of silk. “Repeat that,” she demanded in a voice low and deadly. When the guard stuttered himself into silence, she blinked. “Repeat that.”

“Highness,” he grunted. “Please, we cannot waste any more time! We must leave.”

“Repeat. That.”

“She’s a gutter rat, Highness. Everyone knows it.”

Stepping so quickly that no one saw her move, the princess darted forwards and backhanded the guard across the cheek. “I will not have someone spoken of like that, either in my presence or elsewhere in the castle. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Highness,” he nodded.

“Salanei, come here,” she said, turning away. Before Ria had gone two steps, a demonic portal began to open in front of her. The flickering purple and red edges were ragged as an old scrap of fabric, and a vile, sulfurous gas billowed out of it.

“Shit! Get back!” The tiefling dodged in front of the princess and brought her hands together, calling a binding incantation to mind and willing the strands of the spell to stitch the portal together again, preventing it from opening. The wielder on the other side was strong, their will like iron, but Salanei’s was stronger. Years of being whittled down until she was nothing but muscle and magic and sheer force of will had made her almost unbreakable now, and she knew it. Knowing it was half the struggle with magic.

I am stronger than you, she chanted in her head. This portal will not open.

“I knew having a magic wielder in my guard would be a good thing,” the princess muttered in her ear. “I’m just sorry my mother was so against it.”

Salanei could only grunt with the effort of closing the infernal portal. Behind it, straining against the glowing strands of her spell, a rabid demon snapped its jaws, trying to slice through the counter spell. The mage on the other side didn’t have a spare ounce of concentration to tell the beast to get back. Where was the High Mage when you needed her? Probably bolstering the wards on the castle walls, trusting that the Elite Guard would protect the princess for now.

“Get out of here,” Salanei finally rasped, sweating with the effort. The portal was almost closed.

A hand landed gently between her shoulder blades, fingers splayed wide, palm pressing securely against her skin through the fabric of her dirty shirt, and Salanei gasped as a rush of fresh magic and strength washed into her. With a snap, the portal sealed shut and she whipped around to find the princess smiling softly. “Come with me,” was all she purred.

Salanei nodded, winded and mute, and still dizzy from the surge of golden life that had poured into her from the princess and mixed so easily with her own magic. When had she learned to do that?

The path out of the princess’ chambers was littered with demons. Salanei used every trick and spell she knew, darting here, warping there, slicing, slashing, stabbing, to clear the path while the guard huddled close around their princess and picked off any stragglers who got through. The guards encircled the princess as though she were a jewel and they the setting. Nothing was going to touch her.

Out on another vulnerable, spun-sugar walkway that would lead them directly to the tower that sat atop the cavernous undercroft of the castle, a cloud of tiny, winged demons - which Salanei recognised with horror as having once been harmless forest pixies - swarmed towards them out of the lightening sky.

“Shields!” she screamed back over her shoulder, preparing another spell. Her vision swam from the speed at which she was hemorrhaging magic in the princess’ defence, but she blinked the daze away and focused on creating a wall of fire. Momentum sent the first half of the swarm ploughing straight through it, incinerating their fragile bodies to cinders, but the rest of the flock doubled back and regrouped. With a second flurry of flaming hands, Salanei danced through them until nothing remained but broken, blackened wings at her feet like campfire ashes.

One floundered uselessly at her boots, and while the princess was herded towards the safety of that final tower door by her retinue, Salanei scooped the wounded creature up in one hand and heard its infernal language as little more than a hoarse whisper, like wind through the grasslands. Tapping two fingers to her temple, she directed her magic at the creature, and connected a blue thread with its own yellow spirit thread, and demanded of it, “Who made you?”

A flash of images swirled through the connection, but she had seen enough. “Dorhul,” she spat when she saw the tall, slender figure of the most hated man in the four kingdoms. The connection sputtered, and the creature that had once been a pixie fell limp in her hand. Dropping it, she spun and trailed after the princess, blinking black spots from her vision.

Down staircase after staircase they plummeted, until finally they burst out into the echoing undercroft. Groin vaults stretched away into the darkness like the canopy of an endless stone forest, and Salanei shuddered. It reminded her of the dank dinginess of the slums so viscerally that she almost heaved.  

“Don’t stop now,” Princess Ria whispered, pausing to find Salanei staring off into the darkness with wide, black eyes. “We have to keep moving.”

Nodding silently, the tiefling fell into step beside her, scanning the shadows for the faintest hint of movement, but it was still as a sepulchre down there.

The lap of water eventually reached her keen, tapered ears, and she looked up to see three small rowing boats bobbing in the shallow, underground dock up ahead. A narrow canal of water led out towards the lake, and as they all climbed into the boats, Salanei took a moment to admire the calm presence of the princess. It was a miracle that Dorhul hadn’t known about this entrance to the castle.

Ria, still clad in an incongruously soft, pastel pink gown that was spattered here and there with the evidence of their desperate escape, somehow looked as regal as she had sitting in the great hall in her father’s stead these last two years.

She had remained a steady, reassuring presence in the kingdom even as the king’s health faded away despite the High Mage’s efforts to heal him. In his absence, Ria had taken over the rule of the kingdom with the grace and justice that her father had instilled in her from a young age. The queen had died only a few weeks after her father’s sickness had presented, and Ria had mourned her for the appropriate weeks before getting on with the governance of the kingdom. Beautiful, refined, and achingly gentle, it was no wonder that the kingdom was in love with her.

Salanei swallowed thickly. Half the kingdom, and… her too.

Now, although there was the air of a frightened child about her delicate shoulders, she sat in the centre of the small boat as her guards rowed her away, her green eyes fixed on the retreating castle as they skimmed across the lake. Just as Brandon had said, the morning sun glanced off the surface, glinting like a cut gem as the castle burned behind them.

Salanei uttered a quick prayer under her breath for the minotaur who was presumably still inside the castle.

Halfway across the lake, the guards’ oars faltered with a splash. A vast wave of power pulsed from the heart of the castle and spilled out across the land in all directions, sweeping demons off the walls and parapets, scattering them to ash on the wind. The sheer, raw magic made Salanei’s ears ring and her chest tighten, but when she’d mastered herself again, she found Ria staring wide-eyed at the castle with a look of unbridled horror on her beautiful face.

“Highness?” Salanei croaked, barely resiting the urge to grab her shoulder and shake her gently. “Highness?”

“Father…” she choked. “My father is dead…”

Three thoughts raced through Salanei’s mind before it went perfectly blank again: ‘that means you’re the queen’, ‘if the king is dead it means he used a purging spell so powerful that it obliterated himself as well’, and ‘the castle is free of demons now’. “Should… Should we go back?” she finally croaked.

Ria just sat there in the little boat, her breathing shallow, her face ashen.

“Highness?”

Nothing.

“Ria?” she asked, reluctant to use her familiar name. She leaned forward to touch her arm, but one of the guards - a huge, leonine rakshasa - growled at her. Salanei bared her own canines at him and hissed like a cobra.

The sound of her bickering guards drew the princess out of herself, and Ria turned to them. “Please,” she whispered. “Not now. For the goddess’ sake, not now. Let me think.”

Chastened, they fell silent, though Salanei’s black eyes never left her princess’ face.

“We go back,” she finally said.

The leonine rakshasa’s ears pricked up and he growled softly as he said, “Highness, we only just got you out of there…”

“Look,” she said, her voice eerily calm as she pointed a trembling finger towards the castle.

A cloud of sparkling, fluttering sparks had risen like butterflies above the remnants of the highest tower, and Salanei recognised Maeva’s magical signature immediately. “The High Mage,” she whispered. “You think it’s a trap?”

Ria shook her head. “No. We have a code in case such a signal is ever used. Green with gold is a trap. Pink and pale green is all clear. We return. Now.”

The rowers turned the small craft around, and Ria sat with her jaw set and her fists clenched in the fabric of her dress, eyes intense, mind working. No one spoke or grumbled, despite how the guards’ shoulders must have been burning from the effort.

The princess ground her teeth, and muttered, “This is taking too long. It’s not your fault,” she added as a guard’s expression flickered momentarily. “You’ve all been wonderful.” Snapping her head up suddenly, the princess said, “Salanei?”

“Highness?”

“Can your tiefling magic teleport me from here?”

Salanei tilted her head thoughtfully to one side as she examined her reserves of magic. “If I do, I won’t have much left in the tank when we get there,” she said. “I’d rather not…”

“Do it,” Ria said. “That’s not a request. Get me to my father’s chamber, and Maeva can take care of the magic from there if needs be.”

Jartyn, a gnoll with half his ear missing and a huge burn scar on his face, interjected, “I really must object, Highness -”

Ria’s eyes flashed and he sat back, teeth clacking as he shut his mouth quickly.

However, she got control of her frustration and spoke in a gentle, if tense, voice. “I appreciate your concern, and I owe you all my life,” she said, gathering them all into the praise with a sweep of her emerald green eyes. “But my father just sacrificed his life to cleanse that castle, and now I must return to protect his legacy. If I don’t, there’s still a window of opportunity for Dorhul to step in and claim the crown and the kingdom amid the chaos. Do you understand?”

They did, and they all bowed as one.

“You will follow in the boat and attend me back at the castle.” Ria turned her gaze to the tiefling, and held out her hand. “Now, Salanei.”

Taking the princess’ hand in hers, Salanei concentrated every drop of will and magic on the king’s chambers. Teleportation was not something many could do, and it wasn’t something Salanei particularly relished. The familiar sensation of blurring at the edges announced that they were ready, and a heartbeat later, it felt like two magical grappling hooks had yanked them by the spine and guts and had torn them away to somewhere else.

The princess landed awkwardly beside her with a cry, collapsing against Salanei as they arrived in the bedchamber of the king, and the tiefling caught her. “I’m going to be sick,” Ria hissed a moment before it happened.

Salanei supported her and held her beautiful, long hair back, and then magicked all the mess away with an easy flick of her hand.

Clearly grateful, Ria straightened and turned to her. Her eyes were pink and her cheeks were pale, but she still looked so regal that Salanei’s heart twisted in her chest.

Then Ria’s eyes slid from Salanei’s face to the bed in the middle of the ruined room. The glass in the windows had been obliterated, blasted out into the courtyard below. The twisted remnants of the lead work hung like the gnarled roots of a ripped up tree from the casements, and the rest of the room was reduced to splinters and tatters.

On the bed, there was no sign of the old king at all, but where his head would have rested on the pillow lay the golden crown, and where his heart would have been was a glimmering opal. Salanei gasped when she saw it, following at a respectful distance, a pace behind Ria.

“That’s…”

“The heart of the Lunar Forge,” Ria whispered. “Yes. Imagine what hell a necromancer like Dorhul could raise with a focus like this… That must have been how he was able to wield so much magic just now too…”

Salanei shuddered, not wanting to think about what could have happened. The Lunar Forge sat at the heart of the castle, and beneath the light of a full moon, any weapons quenched in the pool of spring water had the power to destroy demons utterly. The focus of the power was that opal. It was the size of Salanei's fist and it thrummed with power. That power did not have to be used to focus the powers of the Lunar Forge though; it could be used at the heart of any ritual, to add unfathomable power, and if the necromage had got his hands on it, who knows what he could have brought into this world.

Ria picked up the stone and the crown and then sank onto the bed. When she looked up at the tiefling, another pang went through Salanei’s chest. Tears flowed silently down Ria’s face and the urge to embrace her surged inside Salanei. “Highness,” she whispered, her heart going out to the young woman.

Her face twisted, and sobs wracked the princess then, and her guard didn’t hesitate. She stepped in close and the princess folded forwards, throwing her arms around her wiry torso and burying her face in the filthy fabric of her shirt. Her tears dampened it until the flow finally stemmed as Salanei stroked the coppery hair and just stood there, taking her grief and fears in her stride.

“I can’t do it,” Ria whispered, still plastered to her chest.

“You will. You’re not alone. I know he’s gone, but you’re not alone. You have Maeva, and your guard, and… for what it’s worth, you have me.”

It took another few minutes before Ria leaned back to regard Salanei and drew in a deep, unsteady breath.

Taking a chance, Salanei reached out and thumbed the remaining tears from the princess’ blotchy cheeks. “You have me,” she repeated as her golden eyelashes fluttered softly. A moment later, the tiefling let go and spun, adopting a defensive stance as footsteps rang on the floor outside and someone burst in.

She relaxed instantly, adrenalin dissipating when the familiar red robes of the High Mage swirled to a halt and the older woman appeared to go through a similar gamut of relieved reactions upon seeing the tiefling. “Thank the goddess,” she breathed, leaning heavily on a long, slender staff. “Ria, child, are you alright?”

Mutely, the princess nodded and stood. She touched Salanei briefly on the arm as she passed, and sent a tiny rush of her innate magic into the tiefling. The tenderness of the affection made her sway on the spot where she stood and she smiled at the princess, bowing her head.

The Queen, she corrected, forcing herself to make the mental adjustment. That’s the queen standing there now, you dolt!

The severe figure of the High Mage was made all the more stark by the harsh daylight now flooding in through the empty windows. The wind at this altitude whipped right through the room, tugging at tatters of cloth and blowing papers around like dry, rattling leaves. Maeva drew the queen to one side and the two proceeded to talk in hushed voices, leaving Salanei with nothing to do except keep watch.

She crossed to the door at the sound of — she tilted her head and strained — hooves. Demon or friend…? Brandon’s telltale white forelock and black pelt drew into view as he trotted up the staircase and she relaxed.

“You’re alright,” he smiled, tugging her into a quick hug before stepping back. “Thank the goddess. When you disappeared like that — And… the princess?”

“Queen now,” Salanei murmured. “She’s fine.”

“Goddess shelter his soul, and long live the queen,” Brandon said under his breath.

“What’s the rest of the castle like?” she asked, jabbing her thumb over her shoulder and adding, “It’s a fucking mess in there.”

“Same,” he said, leaning on the door frame and suddenly looking extremely tired. “It’ll take weeks to clear the demons and the rubble, but whatever that was, it purged them all in one go. Damned powerful magic.”

“It was the king,” she said. “He sacrificed himself to save the castle.”

“Not just the castle then,” Brandon said darkly. “Saved the whole bloody kingdom with it.”

It in fact took just over a week to get the last of the ichor and demons out of the castle, but it did take much longer to clear the rubble.

Ria insisted on being crowned in the goddess’ temple at the castle, despite the fact that half the roof was missing. Maeva and anyone with even a scrap of magic had been drafted in to weave invisible supports over the roof timbers and pillars to stop it all from tumbling in and crushing the congregation.

Salanei stood at the head of the guard of honour, her blade raised as the queen passed beneath, and she winked at one of the kitchen girls’ daughters whom Ria had selected to be one of the four train-barers. The tiny child could hardly lift the heavy material of the excessively long gown, but she valiantly did her best, along with the other children who had been chosen from the families of the castle staff. It was a lovely touch, and it had only endeared the young queen more to her people.

As the queen drew level with Salanei, she didn’t stop or break her step, but she shot her a fleeting look in passing, and the tiefling’s heart leapt. Over the past few weeks, the queen had shown her a remarkable degree of affection. She’d raised Salanei to the prestigious position of the Queen’s Blade - her personal bodyguard. But where the two had hardly interacted before the attack on the castle, now Salanei found herself often being admitted inside her private study to discuss security and plans to bolster the castle’s and kingdom’s defences with magic and boots on the ground. On such evenings, it was not uncommon for their hands to brush or their gaze to meet, but whatever swirling emotions Salanei felt, she kept her thoughts to herself. This was the queen after all.

The coronation service went on and on, but finally the oaths were taken, and the queen, now formally crowned, processed out into the courtyard beyond to thunderous cheering and applause. Maeva sent a rain of enchanted petals down around her, and she addressed her people as their new leader. All the while she spoke, Salanei scanned the crowd, but to her relief, she found nothing but adoring faces and cheering people. She met Brandon’s eye from the front row of guards keeping the crowd back, and he nodded at her.

It wasn’t until Ria was back in her chambers, again with Salanei at her side, that she showed the faintest sign of her exhaustion.

She was silent while her maids undressed her, their nimble hands undoing the regiments of buttons. Finally, they removed removed the ridiculous gown from the room and found something more comfortable. In her humble, ignorant opinion, Salanei thought that the queen looked much better in plain dresses anyway.

Ria had decided, upon Maeva’s advice, to take the rest of the day to herself, and just as Salanei was preparing to stand guard outside her door, the queen took her wrist in her gentle, firm grip, and halted her.

“No, Salanei,” she said in a hoarse, tired voice. “Stay. Please.”

“Of course. What do you need?”

“I… I don’t know,” she said with heartbreaking honesty. “I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Feeling her body go slack as her heart went out to the young woman, Salanei said, “Shall I run you a bath, Majesty?”

On the point of replying, the queen paused and changed her mind. “Call me Ria,” she said. “Please. When it’s just us two in these rooms, please… call me by my name. I’m… I’m afraid that I’ll forget the sound of it now that I’m queen and there’s no one left to call me that…”

Bowing her head under the weight of that gift, Salanei nodded. “As you wish… Ria.”

With a smile, the queen reached for Salanei's other hand and squeezed her fingers in her own. “You’re so strong, Salanei,” she said, running her thumbs over the rough, scuffed knuckles and feeling the calluses from weapons training on her palms and fingers. “You… You’re so beautiful…”

The breath left Salanei in a rush as if she’d been punched in the solar plexus. “Majesty,” she protested, embarrassed and trying to pull away, but the queen held firm.

“I mean it,” she said with a fierce light in her eyes. And then she went soft with a sigh and said, “But yes, a bath does sound nice.”

“I’ll run you one,” Salanei offered, glad for an excuse to leave the room. Her heart was thudding and her skin felt hot all over.

“You’re not my servant,” Ria barked as the tiefling made to stride away across the room towards the chambers. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I’d like to,” she said. “Please.”

With a nod, Ria accepted, and ten minutes later, a steaming hot bath stood ready for her in the adjacent bathroom, the scent of jasmine heady in the air. When Salanei emerged, she found the queen undressing again, and struggling with a button right in the middle of her back.

“Help me?” asked the queen in a surprisingly shy voice.

Silently, Salanei crossed to her and freed the tiny pearl button from the back of the dress, revealing the smooth, warm skin of her back as the fabric parted and fall away. She had three freckles just to the right of her spine. The urge to brush her fingers down the length of the queen’s back from the nape of her neck to the waist of her dress was almost overwhelming, but she forced herself to step back. “Anything else?” she asked in a croak.

With a knowing, almost playful smile, the queen looked over her shoulder and said, “Fetch me a robe?”

Licking her lips, Salanei swallowed. Had Ria’s eyes always been so bright? Her hair so golden? Her lips so…

“Salanei?”

“Of course,” she chirped and turned abruptly to fetch a robe from the back of the bathroom door and bring it. When she found the queen standing completely naked in the middle of the room with her dress pooled around her ankles, she nearly cursed. Her feet stopped and she stood there, slack-jawed and staring.

“Are you going to pass it to me or not?” Ria giggled.

Flushing hot, Salanei handed it to her and looked away as she extended her arm.

“Don’t,” Ria breathed. “Unless you want to, of course.”

She had no answer for that.

“Salanei…?” the queen asked, sounding suddenly unsure. “What is it you want? Answer me honestly.”

You.

“I can’t,” she hissed, turning completely away.

Oh gods, I want you so much, she thought. I want to make you forget everything. I want to kneel between your legs and taste you. I want to sink my fingers into your heat and feel you let go. I want to give you what no other can give you.

The queen’s voice was steady as she asked, “If you could speak freely, what would you say to me?”

“Tell me I’m not out of line,” Salanei breathed. “Tell me —” she couldn’t finish it. It felt… blasphemous even to begin to voice her desires. This was the queen. And she was a gutter-rat tiefling from nowhere, with no family and nothing but her magic and her fighting skills.

“I want you, Salanei,” the queen said unflinchingly. “I want you, but I don’t want you afraid.”

Her lips parted when she heard those words, and she turned to face her queen properly. Ria still hadn’t done up the bath robe, leaving a column of perfect skin exposed between her covered breasts, and a soft nest of golden hair between her legs. Salanei’s fingertip ached to touch her just there and see if her knees would buckle at the contact.

Without a word, the queen turned and walked slowly towards the bathroom, leaving the door open. An invitation? Salanei stood there for a long time, listening to the slosh of the water in the huge copper bath as the queen got in and then lay back. Steam billowed out of the room, coiling along the floor like crooked fingers calling.

Swallowing, her heart thudding, Salanei padded into the bathroom and came to an uncertain halt. The bath stood in the centre of the small chamber, and the queen had her back to the door where she reclined in the steaming water. “Come here,” she said gently.

“Would you like me to stay?”

“I’d like you to do more than that, if you feel comfortable…” she purred, and as Salanei drew level with the bath, she looked up at her, features sharpening. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to, alright? I’m well aware of what I am, and what your station is. If… If you feel as though you’re… obliged in any way to… to…” tears filled her eyes but she refused to let them spill, and in a rush Salanei knelt on the cold marble beside the bath and put her left hand on the rim of the tub.

“No,” she said fiercely. “I want this. Trust me, I want this…”

“You can touch me,” the queen said in a low voice, tilting her head back. The bubbles just skimmed the surface of the water, but as she moved, fragrant waves lapped at her chest and Salanei glimpsed the roundness of her breasts beneath the water and the dusky pink of her hard nipples too. “Please…”

Salanei slid her right hand into the water, her plum-purple skin in sharp contrast to the warmth of the queen’s own, and she found the inside of the queen’s thigh, letting her palm play up and down it for a moment. Ria let out a long, broken moan and arched her back a little, and it suddenly occurred to Salanei that she probably hadn’t ever been touched like this. Aside from being dressed by her maids, she was always apart, always unreachable, always kept safely at arm’s length.

“I…” Ria faltered, her eyes still closed. “I never thanked you. I never found a minute, but… I should have made time. You’ve given everything to me, and you helped to save my life.”

“I made your father a promise,” she said, still just cupping the curve of her thigh in her hand, hardly daring to believe that this was happening. “And I grew to love you years ago. Your goodness, your grace, your kindness… You won me heart and soul, Ria. I’m yours. Always.”

A tear slid from Ria’s eye and disappeared into the dampness on her skin at her neck. “Touch me,” she whispered, voice intense, and Salanei complied.

She moved her hand further up her smooth thighs, feeling her tail coiling around her own ankle as her body heated up and she began to get wet from the sheer anticipation of touching the queen like this at last. How many nights had she touched herself with thoughts of the queen’s pleasure ringing in her imagination?

At the smooth glide of fingertips over her folds, the queen’s legs fell apart and she bucked weakly, sloshing water almost over the rim of the bath. Another moan escaped her and she let her head loll as Salanei repeated the gesture on the other side before circling her swelling clit and then nudging just beneath it.

A shudder ran through the queen and she gripped the edges of the bath as Salanei brushed against her, teasing and testing, finding out how she liked to be touched, where was too sensitive and what garnered her the most vocal reactions. Slow and firm seemed to drive her closer to towards her peak, while tentative and teasing made her buck and gasp, shivering and grunting with satisfaction delayed. Naturally, she drew out the process for as long as she could, and oscillated between the two.

“Please!” Ria finally gasped, curling forwards, knuckles white on the rim of the copper bath as Salanei ran one callused fingertip back and forth just between her clit and her entrance. It was far too slow and far too teasing. “Oh goddess… oh goddess…” she chanted, her whole body winding tighter and tighter. The water could not disguise the slickness that eased Salanei's attentions either.

In a single motion, Salanei slid two fingers deep inside her and crooked them, pressing against her walls while circling her clit with her thumb, and the queen shattered. Salanei was fairly certain she’d soaked through her own underwear, but nothing could distract her from the tight, clenching heat as pleasure ripped through the other woman and swept her away with it. She gave herself completely to it and convulsed, water slopping over the edge of the bath and onto the floor and drenching Salanei's loose trousers too.

“You’re so beautiful,” Salanei crooned as the queen continued to come. “Goddess, but you’re so beautiful…” She kept the pressure inside the queen’s body with her fingertips, easing her through it until finally Ria slumped back against the bath, her chest heaving, her eyes closed, and the softest, sweetest look of joy on her face.

When she’d caught her breath, she opened her eyes with a flutter of golden lashes and whispered, “I want to do that to you.”

“I’m yours,” Salanei replied with a wry smile, withdrawing her fingers and tracing a fond touch across her sensitive inner thigh without removing her hand from the water.

“Give me a moment to feel my legs again,” Ria said, “And then help me out of here, and I’ll return the favour. I do feel bad that you were on the floor though,” she said, a tiny frown pinching her eyebrows together.

Salanei laughed hoarsely and said, “If you knew how wet I was, you wouldn’t have said that.”

The queen went still, a surprised smile on her face. “That got you wet? Doing that to me?”

“You have no idea.”

With that, Ria stood somewhat shakily, water cascading down her perfect body, and, with her eyes practically glowing, said, “Show me.”

___

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[mego42]

What are some of your favorite GG song Moments. ? Here are some of mine.

1. Easy ft lorde- OMG this soong is such a bop. it just fits the scene so well. HONESTLY one of my fav scenes. HE IS LIVING HIS BEST LIFE IN THIS SCENE. I LOVE CHAOTIC RIO

2. Wild heart by SPELLES.- THIS SONG IS SO HAUNTING just fits the vibe so well. SO ANGSTY

3. The most recent song. Used in that Brio moment. Idk what its called . I know that Beth is having the time of her life but that song is just HEAVY. The lyrics 🙏😭😭❤❤❤ such a pretty song fr 😔

omg anon i love this question nearly as much as i love your taste. YES!!!! to Easy (i too love tf out of personification of chaos rio), YES!!!!! to Wild Heart!!!!  it’s SO HAUNTING and disorienting and PERFECT. and Y E S !!!!!!!!!!!!! to the most recent song (whole life by perfume genius). i am LIVING for the heavy ballad vibes, super agree it’s so pretty. 

in no particular order, my top 5 music moments:

blanket me / hundred waters

1x09 - beth makes the calendar laying out her kids future in case something happens to her

i’ve already exposed myself as an absolute loon when it comes to this song and you can read the whole breakdown here

but tl;dr it’s a song about relying too much on a person and needing to break free and be independent but not in a toxic sort of way, more in a for personal growth and the best for everyone because co-dependence holds everyone back and i really, really, really love that in context of beth and her children, her learning to step back and not smother them but also not give so much of herself that she disappears entirely because that’s not good for them in the long run

basically it’s sort of a thesis statement for beth’s underlying s1 arc

plus it’s just like, heavy and haunting and absolutely gorgeous and not to be like, unreasonably pretentious, moves me and i love it

notable lyrics: You're my blanket, you're my skin / You're everything within / You're my guardian, I'm your sail / A boat in your harbor / Gone under, capsized and sinking / Blanket me, blanket me, blanket me, blanket me, blanket me

-

whole life / perfume genius

4x06 - beth looking for a place to hide the wire/hooking up with rio

the song is all about leaving behind the things weighing you down and moving into a brighter, more free future and i love love love how that plays with the duality of beth hiding the wire and securing her source of information for the secret service BUT ALSO marking this moment as a turning point for beth and rio because it absolutely is.

(like not just the fact that they’ve resumed a physical relationship but rio’s invited beth deeper into his world and we’re seeing beth crack on a level we really haven’t before)

this season is leaning SO HARD into duality and the tangled up truths and lies between them and i am absolutely UNHINGED over it

i also really love the like, passionate ballad nature of it juxtaposed over this twisted, extremely sexy moment (intercut with dean joyfully trying to seize hold of his new hobby only to be IMMEDIATELY denied)

there are just so many layers to it and i love all of them

notable lyrics: The mark where he left me / A clip on my wing / Oh, let it soften / I forgive everything

-

ocean rain / echo & the bunnymen

4x04 - the beth and jane/rio getting the drop on fitz montage

the whole theme of this song is two people tearing each other apart and destroying the bones of their former intimacy which like, hello subject matter aptitude and it’s told through this GLORIOUSLY dramatic hurricane at sea imagery with ships being dragged below the waves by the hurricanes the two people have called down on each other set to a gorgeous over the top orchestral score

on a yrical note, i love that the song is basically the same verse over and over (interspersed with the chorus, obvs) and the only change is me vs you when it comes to who brought the storm down on them

basically, if you were challenged to come up with a song that represented two peak dramatique heaux nightmare factories locked in a never ending game of deadly cat and mouse, you couldn’t top this.

i am ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED with the choice to pair it with a montage of beth finally pulling the trigger (with foresight and intent, shooting rio was p obvs a oh shit look what i did moment), a milestone rio’s been dragging her (down) towards since the beginning of s2 AND using him to do it, dragging him (down) into her mess (m ade all the more messy when you consider he was the target of it) (i just! love it! so! much!)

i want to live in johnathan leahy’s brain

notable lyrics: all at sea again / and now my[your] hurricanes have brought down this ocean rain / to bathe me again / my ship’s a-sail / can you hear it’s tender frame / screaming from beneath the waves / screaming from beneath the waves

-

el musgo / gabriel bruce

3x04 - rio watches beth make money

UGH GOD when that high hat and bass kicked in the first time i was like oh shit we are in for some DRAMA and sure enough we were as well as a more sexual montage than anything you’d find in actual porn.

idk, the fact that they chose this deep, dark, mournful about lost love to an elongated montage slow motion montage of rio watching beth make fake cash and deciding not to kill her for nearly killing him doEs stuFf to me

all i’m saying is johnathan leahy ships brio harder than any of us and is a more dramatique heaux than either of them, which are two really impressive feats to achieve

AND THEN!!! AND THEN!!!!! they CHOPPED THE SONG UP!!!!! so they were able to take advantage of the dawning drama of the opening bars BUT ALSO include the closing stanza about wearing the marks the subject of the song gave the singer like a scar where they took his heart from him and the INTENTIONALITY of that creative choice puts me on the FLOOR

LIKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

notable lyrics: I'll wear this mark like a medal / But it's a scar / Where you took my heart from me

-

kimono hill / sophia kennedy

3x01 - rio leaves the hotel

honeslty, lowkey surprised this one made my top five. not because it isn’t a fabulous song deployed with johnathan leahy’s usual mastery, but bc i didn’t realize how much i loved it until making this list

i don’t really have like, a deep, lyrically rooted storytelling reason for loving it, i just think the way they used it in the show is Such A Vibe

the way the vibrating synthy tones and underlying organ kicks in while rio’s getting in the elevator has this beautiful held breath anticipatory quality to it that works SO WELL to set up the montage of rio strutting out back into his life while turner gets murdered (a scene i have some uh, complicated feelings about but setting those aside), and the bolands’ fresh start to the tune of bouncy drums and looping vocals

idk it’s such a shining note to end the first episode of a new season on, i remember feeling refreshed and super hype for what’s to come

notable lyrics: no lyrics, just the vibe of the opening bars

tl;dr i really, really, REALLY love how this show uses music. you can tell they put a lot of time and effort and thought into it and while i know the trajectory isn’t working for everyone, personally i love it. granted, as you can see from this list, i clearly love the shit out of a down tempo dramatic ballad, so. if you are more of a bangers and bops person, i would point you to @nickmillerscaulk’s inbox as she is a Certified Bangers Afficianado.

[project-paranoia]

Live Watch: S.C.I. Mystery Episode One

I enjoy camp because I've always enjoyed analysis and examination.  I enjoy looking at something from all sides, testing it with my fingertips. When I was a child I would sit for hours just looking at something until I had it all held in my mind and I felt like I understood it.  Camp necessitates that understanding the way that imitation and - good - parody requires it.  To quote Susan Sontag - who articulated what camp is so well - Camp is "a sensibility that revels in artifice, stylisation, theatricalisation, irony, playfulness, and exaggeration rather than content."  Because of this camp takes on head to head gender, sexuality, expectations, any sort of defined norm and sequins it up then shakes it down until understanding comes out.  When understanding something there are three major ways to work your investigation - what it is, what it's imitation is - the close but not quite, and what it isn't.  Camp handles all three, to quote again: "Camp sees everything in quotation marks. It's not a lamp, but a 'lamp; not a woman, but a 'woman.'"

Why are we talking about camp?  Because SCI Mystery is some of the best kind of camp outside of drag or screaming about wire hangers.  It deals a lot with mental illness in a way that would destroy a serious show, but in this one "mental illness" is a metaphor for being marginalised and a way to talk about the mouse and cat in the room.  This show is about being queer.  About being gay loudly and quietly, about resisting specific labels and needing them, about the threat of a cure and the blessing of acceptance.  All the messy realities of queer life as varied as queer people. Like Lil Nas X's Montero, you can appreciate the effort without being comfortable with it. While the show's allegory of mental illness when many queer people are still told they are ill is done well and there is reason to the choices and tone, things are said which can be hard to hear.  Knowing they're there because they're hard to hear and have been heard doesn't help everyone.

With all that said, it's also a fun, silly bl drama.  Don't let the analysis scare you off.  While the information about camp can be something to be aware of, all this show requires to be enjoyed is a willingness to be amused and spooked in turns.

You know the drill, spoilers below!

* I have memorised the youku sound, I have a triggered response with it. Not all triggers are bad, this one reminds me of Guardian

* Welcome to episode one where we just leap in!  But don't worry, one of them has a cute earring and they are colour coordinated.

* Watching from youtube the episode is 38 minutes long while most of the others are 45.  Attach whatever emotion you want to that fact.

* The exposition is handily delivered by asking a question which tells us some things, thank you show, I appreciate it

* First episode and he's already giving his partner an in case I don't come back letter to be opened if he dies

*  Wait for me!~  Go!~~

* Slow walk with dramatic music: 1 (don't make this a drinking game You Will Expire) this time with bonus almost looking back

* I've seen a similar shot on Hawaii Five O

* Don't explain what's happening, just knock everything over with a jump kick in some absolutely spotless white tennies

* Running with dramatic music with bonus looking back: Does it count?  We have yet to hear back from the judges

* They leap into the water with an explosion behind them, we are less than 2 minutes in and I love that for them

* At first I thought the boats were making a big heart before I remembered that I am very silly and they are not doing that

* This one is going to be long

* I can see his pockets through his trousers, why are his trousers so thin?

* It's not kissing to dramatic music in the surf if it's CPR

* Each story line has its own intro and that's very sexy of them

* Slow walk/dramatic music: 2-6

* These people are totally goofy and and yet the Seriousness

* Two Weeks Ago!

* The police school bus has arrived to shoo away the crows circling around Dr. Zhan staring (dramatically) at the body

* Sport scar policeman dresses even more unprofessionally than Zhao Yunlan who at least looks like a detective who was jumped by so many criminals he just gave up wearing a suit and went for jeans. Chief Bai's clothes are so thin, I'm under constant anxiety someone is going to tear them off.

* Also several of the cast pictures on MyDramaList look like the pictures your auntie insists taking to send to your other aunties and I love that for them

* Triple axil spin from the victim, the judges are loving it - this is the camp I'm here for

* The dramatic slo mo and music budget for this show was so big, just as it should be

* He's mad because he's angy

*  Master Psychiatrist can tell all about the killer from crouching by the body, it's a trope and this is one of the few places I like it because it serves the show instead of the show serving it

* When you're almost boyfriend is going away for reasons and it's not your decision but you can't go with him because of your job so you're just low key bitter about it

*  "You can't control me"

* The pettiness between these two

* Professional women who worked hard to get where they are still are constantly obsessed with boys according to most cdramas

*The male posturing in those three second has accidentally circled back around to being gay in the way those bro shows accidentally do and I love that

* I live for this 80s-90s police chief perm

* The Pettiness

* I always tend to like doctor characters, I don't know why.  Even when they aren't my favourites I like them.

* She's kind of adorable, I like her (I've seen a lot of this show and every time I say I like someone it ends badly ;-; )

* "the victems"

* If you love Creative English, this is the show for you!

* Chief Bai's crew is trying so hard to get them back together

* Dr. Zhan is so good at psychology he can tell what someone looks like from some tire tracks - this trope is used all the time in crime shows, but they push it a little farther in SCI and it really helps the viewer know what the rules for the show are

* The scene in the psychiatrist's office hearkens back to queer coded villains and the way they're treated in old black and white horror cinema - but done so artfully it's almost invisible.  It's incredibly well done, and the awareness of tropes and types all throughout the series is tremendously successful as much as it's campy fun.

* There's also the trope of someone who manipulates someone into feeling like they've been "purified" and then weaponises them against the "filthy". And of course the fact that the killer's blade is a mirror - that he's killing in others what he sees in himself. This trope hasn't just been queer-coded but has been applied to any sort of physical or mental disorder. Thesis have been written about this trope and the anxiety attached to it. I can't write them better and this is long enough, it's just a small part of the excellent handling of the themes showing up in this genre and I wanted to point it out because it deserves appreciation for the skill and knowledge in the writing.  

* The whole you need evidence vs you're saying psychoanalysis isn't trustworthy feels very much like a coded angry exes discussion

* I love the establishing shots, so good

* He kind of deserved that door to the face, what was he even doing

* Police violence in crime shows is supposed to be a release for the viewer, but many countries have issues with police violence so it hits wrong.  Here it's far more performative in a way that at least has some awareness

* The weirdest phone call, you call someone to tell them something important and they say two things to you and hang up

* The tongue thing, why always the tongue thing?

* When a serial killer tries to compliment you by calling you a carnivore and you shut down the whole alpha male supposition by calling yourself a vegetarian

* At this point I've written almost fifteen hundred words and taken almost two hours to watch 23 minutes

* This is my life, these are my choices

* Dutch Angles

* You could make this conversation about being gay, I have had this conversation about homosexuality before

* Unfortunately while I had it I was on the bus trapped in a window seat

* The conversation didn't end with me saying something cool and everyone clapping

* They just got off the bus to go to work

* The banality of evil, yo

* Her shorts are Incredibly Short, good for her

* "arrest the perp behind my back" that's his job, broheim

* He doesn't ask why she checked behind their ears

* DUN dun dun!

* Slo mo file drop, and of course the file is blood stained and aged

* Chalk Art of Doom

* Chinese word play!

* Caught almost putting his coat over his crush, embarrassing XD

* Backstory!

*  I love all the little character details, I could quote lines I think are funny all day but that would start getting silly

* Bai Yu Tong is marked as clean and having OCD but we don't see what's apparently a huge character trait at all other than the all white, do love that he's good at cooking

* Dr. Zhan: Brilliant!  Genius!  Cannot feed himself.

* Dr. Gong has indifference level 100% which is true and also I love that for him

* I love that Wang Shao part of the team because he's good at making friends, I love that for him

* Poor Zhao Fu: scared of ghosts and dumb and sweet?  At least he has an 8 pack

* Jiang Lin is very tropey except the mention of her nearsightedness

* Ma Han's height 1.7m and legs 1.8m is hilarious and I love it

* I stopped recording the slo mo walks, but if you were drinking along with them you might be dead so I really appreciate you taking time out of your afterlife to continue reading.  We appreciate all our ghost readers

* And that's the first episode!  Thanks for making it to the end!

[the-blue-fairie]

On what #bringelsahome COULD BE vs. what it has become...

Sometimes, I become sad because one of the first things I wrote after viewing Frozen 2 was a short ficlet repudiating Elsa’s line in Show Yourself as she was approaching Ahtohallan that “I’m arriving / and it feels like I am home.” You can read that ficlet here if you want to.

In that ficlet, I was expressing frustration with the fact that Show Yourself was connecting the concept of “home” with Ahtohallan and connections found through memory and the past instead of the living, breathing connections that can be found in life. In that ficlet, I was also disputing the film’s concept of change because, as I wrote, “Home is not a lineage, a source, a gift. Gifts are given. Home, you make for yourself. Each step, a step forward. Not into the cold ancestral wonder of Ahtohallan, but into the warmth of the future. Holding tight to those she loved was not the absence of change. It was change itself, each day carving out a new shape, a new bejeweled crystal more fabulous than any on the glacier.” And I ended that ficlet repudiating Ahtohallan and having Elsa turn back to the home she has made in Arendelle with Anna, Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven. It was a ficlet born deeply out of my love of this image:

Now, the scary thing for me now is that there are parallels between my sentiments then and the... what do I call it? aggressive stance?... to #bringelsahome, which is rather unpleasant for me because that aggressive stance has become an excuse for racism and toxicity which I absolutely do not want to be associated with.

 But I’ve been thinking about something that @themountainsays mused about, and that @hb-pickle​ added to, asking what the ultimate goal of #bringelsahome actually is - because if the most hostile people actually wanted to change people’s minds or reach the creators, all they’ve managed to do is burn bridges and undermine their own cause.

I mean, look at me, when it comes to them burning bridges. I have conflicting feelings about F2′s ending and I’ve offered critiques of it - but the loudest members of #bringelsahome won’t look at those critiques because I openly reject the racism and toxicity that they push forward. 

But at the same time, there’s also a part of me that... understands where the basic sentiment to “bringelsahome” comes from and that’s gotten me to thinking about what #bringelsahome could be vs. what it has become.

I have friends who remain devastated by the ending of Frozen 2, and most of these friends have largely left the Frozen fandom either because they simply want to move on to other pastures or, even though they dislike Frozen 2, they’d rather not have any association with BEH - which... can you blame them?

But the pain of these friends, a pain they do not express in a toxic way, speaks to what #bringelsahome could be if it wasn’t rotted to the core by this point by racist rhetoric and aggression.

That pain actually emerges from a deep connection to Elsa and a valuing of Elsa’s connections to other people. These friends I’ve spoken with often reference a deep anguish that Elsa’s journey in Frozen 2 is structured so that she sheds traveling companions across the whole adventure - leaving Kristoff behind, leaving Anna and Olaf behind, going it alone when there is strength in working together and shorts like Frozen Fever and OFA highlight how when this found family works together, it has a positive impact on Elsa.

They wanted to see Elsa trusting Anna’s judgment, not pushing Anna and Olaf away in the ice boat, not falling into the same mistakes she did in the past... and their pain was heightened by the fact that, when Elsa seemed to fall back into those same mistakes, the film never really circled back to that or addressed it again... even when the film went out of its way to point out that Anna and even Olaf was angry. 

And... yes, it’s valid to say that Olaf - the most innocent and childlike character - becoming angry feels like a turning point of some kind... which then goes nowhere and that the film does nothing with. That’s a valid criticism of something that feels disjointed and off about F2.

And... I’d even argue that it’s valid to say that Elsa feels off at times over the course of Frozen 2 - and I’d put that down to, well, Elsa being “too much” for Disney. She means too many things for too many people. Her basic metaphor resonated with countless people - more than Disney ever imagined - and now they have to preserve that popularity, but the writers are trapped within the incredibly restrictive Disney system. They can’t make Elsa openly gay because the Mouse loves making money and making money means appealing to the broadest crowd, including the homophobes. And they want to keep Elsa broadly relatable so they try to lean into he concept of “magic” as an aspect of Elsa’s difference and also “explaining” that magic because certain people wanted an “explanation” for Elsa. 

But the problem with that vague (and therefore, in the film’s hope, broadly relatable) magic metaphor is that it’s vague and, unlike the previous movie, not really tethered to Elsa’s connections with people. The first movie, while it still used the metaphor of “magic as difference” grounded that metaphor in Elsa’s interactions with her sister, with the people of Arendelle, with how other human beings interact with her and the deeply human aspect of Elsa’s love for those other human beings. Frozen 2, in contrast, could have that... but it doesn’t.

I’ve argued several times over that Elsa’s arc in F2 would be stronger if the filmmakers had deeply enriched Elsa’s connection with the Northuldra, gave us more scenes of her bonding with her mother’s people, more scenes that expanded the Northuldra characters’ development. Maybe even start the film out with the deleted prologue focused on Iduna so we get the Northuldra’s perspective right fom the start and we can connect Iduna’s pain with Elsa’s own feeling of otherness.

Frozen 2... only gives a few brief scenes of Elsa with the Northuldra and has her shed members of her found family across the film... so F2 loses a human element that he first film never lost sight of. The “magic-as-difference” metaphor has to work more as metaphor, without the same human emotional grounding as the first film.

And because we don’t get those scenes with Elsa and the Northuldra and the film chooses to have Elsa leave behind members of her found family, I can understand why people would feel Elsa feels off in F2.

Because the film seems to care more about Elsa’s connection to magic than her humanity. That’s why there are several incidences of Elsa bonding with the spirits - and far less of her bonding with Northuldra characters.

This actually speaks to a legitimate, valid critique of the film - and people could use it to point out flaws in the film. Moreover, a critique like this could even be antiracist because it would be advocating for the expansion of the role of the Northuldra and more scenes of Elsa bonding with and learning about her mother’s people.

Critique actually has an important place within fandom - and critique can actually benefit the filmmakers if it is valid and valuable critique. Asking, “Why does F2 seem to care more about Elsa’s magic than her humanity and how does that undermine her arc?” is actually a valuable question. If the filmmakers reflected on it, then in a potential Frozen 3, they could make sure to reject the negative implications of distancing Elsa’s humanity. They could pause to think, “Oh, we didn’t INTEND to suggest this, maybe, but our second film did kind of give those implications, so let’s avoid those implications next time.” By EXPANDING the Northuldra characters. By reinforcing Elsa legitimately working together with her found family instead of feeling she has to go on alone.

That’s what bringelsahome could be - a movement to point out flaws in the film and a better way forward for the betterment of future projects.

Unfortunately, that’s not what it is - since the racism of certain people at its forefront has corroded it from the inside.

But I still find that tragic, because... it could have actually been something valuable. And there are aspects to it that still could be something valuable. And I still know many people out there with legitimate critiques who can’t voice their feelings about F2 because they disagree with Isa’s racism, so it doesn’t matter to Isa if they dislike F2; in her eyes, you’re either with her or against her...

[kissy-kobos-garden]

plot: y/n carries Kobo to the bedroom after falling asleep on the couch.

genre: fluff, romance with a touch of comedy? idk ;w;

word count: 1,549

a/n: congratulations to our winner for the one-shot category of your giveaway! i hope you're gonna like this one, chloe!

what other way to best celebrate the end of the week? of course, a good 'ol movie night was one of the best ways to celebrate, especially if it was with your lover.

a coffee table filled with an array of dishes that you both whipped up from scratch, a couch filled with pillows and blankets, and lastly, a tv screen showing the new movie that you guys have been planning on watching.

"oppa, how many movies are we gonna watch tonight?" you ask while munching on the cheese katsu kobo cooked. "it depends... since someone might fall asleep while watching."

the recognizable teasing lilt of his voice had you scoffing, already known for a fact that it would be him who's going to fall asleep first. "you sure you're not talking about yourself, bub?"

a hearty laugh slips past his lips as he sways his body towards your side, slightly bumping onto you. "there's no one else in this room, baby." he whispers with eyes boring right into yours thus resulting in your cheeks heating up, and you pushing him away before placing the whole katsu in your mouth. "shut up."

"c'mon, we both know it's you who'd fall asleep first." he states as a matter of fact while taking a piece of tissue in his hand, hand going up to your chin to have you face him. "aigoo, my yeobo sure is still an aegi," he adds in and proceeds to wipe your mouth.

you watch him focus on your lips and was about to speak up when he decides to place a kiss on the corner of your lips. "ah!"

he chuckles before transferring his attention back to the food in front of him. "eat up, it's nice seeing you all full and cheeks round."

"why do you even like seeing my cheeks so round?"

if there was one thing kobo would love to play with or even nibble on... it was your cheeks. "it's adorable!" he beams before giving you a side glance. "and besides, your smile's really cute you know."

no matter how long you've guys have been together, he never fails to catch you off-guard. "here, eat up." you quickly divert the subject by quickly placing a piece of cheese katsu on his bowl.

a swift pinch on your cheek, kobo didn't think twice and proceeds to enjoy his meal. it stayed like this for quite some time until the two of you finished up your meals.

"i'll do the dishes," you say while pilling up all the plates and bowls. "no, no. i can't let you do it alone-"

you shake your head with a smile before squatting down to meet his eyes, "you've worked hard enough today, just sit back and relax alright? i've got this and besides, i need to take a quick shower."

sighing in defeat, kobo nods his head and leans in to give you a peck on the lips. "i love you," he says without looking away from you. "i love you too."

you bring all of the bowls, plates, and cups to the sink and begin washing all of them. from time to time, you'd look towards the living room to see what kobo was doing and one thing's for sure, you can see sleep finally dancing its way to his lids.

kobo has always been the type to deny that he isn't sleepy and that he's not tired but you know him too well. quickly drying up everything, you place them back to your cupboards and plate rack.

one last look at your beau, you couldn't help but giggle at the sight of him hugging ppippi while watching intently on the screen - frozen 2 was playing and he would casually sing along with elsa.

"don't fall asleep while i'm away, baby~" you coo as you stop by the couch, only to earn a furrowed brow from him. "i'm not a baby!"

raising a brow in response, you cock your head to the side - acting all confused and innocent. "then what are you?"

"i'm a manly man, of course!" he confidently beams, puffing up his chest with a cheeky grin.

it was fun teasing kobo sometimes since you'd always get a reaction from him. "whatever floats your boat, baby, just make sure you don't fall asleep okay?"

he jokingly rolls his eyes before giving you a small "okay" before returning his attention back to olaf.

you go to your shared bathroom and proceed in having that hot shower you deserve. it was as if all of the stress and tiredness was washed off along with the suds. it doesn't really take you long to take a shower but staying for a couple more minutes than your usual shower time wouldn't hurt.

putting on kobo's mickey mouse pajamas, you let out a satisfied sigh before making your way back to the living room - only to be greeted by a sleeping kobo.

he's all curled up on the couch with ppippi in his arms and dambee by his head also all curled up. the sight was definitely something you'd be happy to see for the rest of your life but the thought of how to carry kobo to the bed is the only thing you can think of right now.

"how in the world can i transfer him from here," you pause... turning your head towards the bedroom to see how far you have to drag him. "to there?"

kobo... is definitely bigger than you and you know you'd be a clown if you deny it. gently putting ppippi away, you wave a hand right in front of his face to see if he'd react. there were no signs of him waking up anytime soon so you gently wrap his arms around your neck and your arms around his upper torso.

"i know you're gonna wake up but..." you whisper before pulling him off the couch, making sure his legs doesn't drop way too hard. stopping on your tracks to see if he's waking up, you heave out a sigh of relief when he continues to snore away with his lips slightly ajar, drool already forming on the corner of his mouth.

widening your base of support, you slowly make your way to the bedroom. arms already becoming sore, and your body slowly bending backward due to the weight of his body.

but all is well since you're just simply carrying his upper torso and letting his lower body get dragged on the floor... right?

you grit your teeth and let out a curse as you feel beads of sweat forming on your temples, "damn you and your beautiful, muscular body."

the distance between the living room and the bedroom was finally shortened. a couple more steps and dragging of your lover's body on the floor, you've finally got in your shared bedroom.

however, thanks to you and your clumsiness, you trip on your own feet and have the both of you flying to your bed. a loud "oomf-" slips past your lips as kobo's body gets all pressed upon yours.

the sound of him groaning had you whipping your head towards him, only to see his half-lidded eyes searching for yours. "ugh, what happened?"

"i carried you all over here but... oppa, c-can you get off of me for a sec?"

kobo looks down at your position and hurriedly gets off of you while muttering a couple of sorry's and are you okay's. finally, it's as if your soul left your body, you sink in on the mattress before letting your eyelids flutter shut.

"w-was i too heavy?" he innocently and worriedly asks while getting in bed with you. "what do you think, big boy?" you retaliate without looking at him as you try to catch your breath.

you'd be lying if carrying him all the way from the living room to the bedroom didn't drain the life out of you. it felt like a week's worth of working out!

the sound of the shuffling duvet had you looking up, only to see kobo positioning himself on your side with arms all ready to lift you up bridal style.

before you could even let out a protest, he effortlessly lifts you up - nothing compared to how you carried him- and positions you on your side of the bed.

"i'm sorry for having you carry me all the way here, [y/n]," he says as he snuggles close to you. "but you could just wake me up and tell me to bring myself here."

you nod your head before turning your body towards him, grabbing his arm and turning it into an arm pillow. "i didn't want to wake you up since i know you're tired but yeah..."

kobo hums and pulls you closer to him, an arm finding its way to your waist. "i don't mind but thanks for carrying all the way here, [y/n]." he waits for your response and runs his slender fingers through your locks, pressing his cheeks on top of your head.

quite some time passed and all he can hear from you was your soft breathing. a chuckle erupts from his chest as he slightly pulls away, only to see you fast asleep in his arms.

"good night, [y/n]."