#hmmm... perhaps i have a problem

[carfuckerlynch]

unrelated to my current problems I was talking to one of my friends (plural. so arguably a few of my friends) about being plural and I gotta say. some of the things she said were uhhhhh. hitting close to home.

[convxction]

ooc. am i going to write today? lets see. hmu if u want to talk or plot something! add me on desucord & let me know who is it~

[loveistheonlytruth]

hmmm is it okay to have such a rich inner life and monologue that u dont really feel the absence of anyone or the need for partnership/ romance

[catboybiologist]

I absolutely agree that transmasculine people face different problems than transfeminine people, hmm I wonder if we could come up with a word to specifically describe the transphobic issues that transmasculine people have to deal with, perhaps something including the word trans and, like, a greek syllable meaning masculine, or something

surely such a word would be seen as a good thing to have at ones disposal to talk about one's own oppression

hmmm

This is a bad faith ask, but I guess it's as good a place as any for a ramble. I hope it's coherent.

First off, I feel like my blog is getting lumped into a lot of other blogs as a "trans woman who talks about transmisogyny" and points are being ascribed to me that I never really said. I respect them a lot, and I follow them. But I'm an individual person with my own nuanced opinions on the topic.

Also, yes, this will largely be a nitpicky terminology post. It's a a rambling societal analysis from someone with a STEM background. Don't call this "infighting". To be blunt, if you get riled up by this, that's on you.

Here's what you need to understand: transmisogyny is not called transmisogyny because it's transphobia affecting trans women. Transmisogyny is called transmisogyny because it's the manifestation of existing misogynist biases and talking points, applied to trans women. Creating the term "transandrophobia" as an equal foil to it is implying existing, pervasive androphobia against cis men.

Per the original use of the terminology (I'm literally just poorly summarizing Whipping Girl here, which is basically transfeminism for dummies), transmisogyny exists because of two related, but distinct deeply ingrained biases of misogyny:

One, the societal belief that male/man and female/woman are separate categories with a MASSIVE, uncrossable rift between them, and are intrinsically different as completely separate biological or theological categories (this is termed oppositional sexism)

Two, with respect to these two categories, men and masculinity are superior to women and femininity.

Transgender women assault both of these points to create a massive reflexive disgust reaction in a misogynist. One, they break down the barriers between men and women. And two, they provide examples of somebody "choosing" womanhood, and being uplifted and empowered by it. The first point is something we share with trans men, but let's hold on to that point for a moment.

As I've said before, transmisogyny then manifests as a property of this reaction. The second point leaves people scrambling to think of "alternate explanations" for a trans woman's transition- leading to false accusations about why trans women want access to women's spaces, that trans women are fetishists, and that trans women want to "cheat" in women's sports.

Does this mean that trans men don't have unique struggles, or that we shouldn't fight for transmasc's struggles? Of course not. However, these struggles are not an emergent property of a societal hatred of men.

Instead, a lot of what trans men face feels to me like repackaged misogyny. THIS IS NOT SAYING THAT TRANS MEN ARE NOT MEN, OR THAT ALL TRANSMASCS ARE ACTUALLY WOMEN. This is an acknowledgement that misogyny is a system of biases that aims to create a patriarchy. Those biases have the goal of male superiority, and oftentimes, hit trans men as well- because a system that needs to tell men that they're "biologically superior" is one that can never allow an "inferior" person to put themselves in that category.

Eg: trans men are often forced into positions where they're treated as women, often violently. This is to maintain the separation of men and women, and to assert men as superior. Trans men are affected by reproductive health regulations written to suppress women, sexual violence intended to suppress women, etc.

Some of these mechanisms often also affect trans women. Particularly sexual violence and sexualization.

And some don't. Some are genuinely unique to transmascs. And if you want to use the word "transandrophobia" to describe all of them in one go, then sure I guess. It's not a huge deal, but you have to acknowledge that we're talking about something almost entirely different at that point. But, if you're portraying trans androphobia as the genuine one-to-one equal of transmisogyny, with the same roots and same usage, you're also saying that societal androphobia exists. Which, to be frank, it does not- as a societal force. I'm sure you have a cousin or a great aunt that genuinely believes in some kind of matriarchal state, but c'mon. They're not mainstream in any political movement, no, not even TERFs.

Talking about transmisogyny isn't about erasing trans men's issues, it's about recognizing the misogynist roots of transphobia to more accurately hold fast against it, find solidarity with other feminists, and restructure communication to people outside of our movements.

And yeah, I am going to uplift trans men, and talk about issues affecting them. Saying I don't is ascribing a lot of things to me that I'm not saying.

This is the dignified part of my response. I'm typing my more irate, hysterical thoughts here, but I genuinely hope this opens some respectful discussion.

Part 2 of this post will be what I'm mad about, and what my frustration is.

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

Never been diagnosed with anything. Get along best with neurodivergent people. My ADHD-having sister says I must not be neurodivergent, but her friends did assume I was when I was talking to them. A lot of people tend to assume I am! But I’ve read the criteria for a few conditions and I don’t really think the examples fit me. There would be no point in getting a diagnosis for anything anyway, because I never have any issues with anything major in my life. Except for My Issues. But like school life is just fine

I’m sort of like if a neurodivergent person was neurotypical

[arc-misadventures]

I don't know why, but I'm enjoying the thought of Coco and Jaune being bros.

99% Lesbian

Blake: Coco!

Yang: Hey, Coco!

Coco: Yes?

Blake: We need your help

Coco: My help? Well, first off: Stop wearing all black. Add more colour to you apparel; I recommend purples, golds, and perhaps some deep blues. I think those colours would really make you 'pop!' Otherwise you look like a poorly dressed goth girl hipster. And no, you do not look like a goth girl the way you are dressed, and most certainly a sexy goth girl.

Blake: That's not 1hat...

Yang: No. No, take notes you could use a make over.

Blake: Hey!

Yang: But, no this isn't fashion related!

Coco: It isn't? Then what the hell do you two want help with me, you utter fashion slobs!

Blake: Hey!

Yang: I know it's true that, Blake dresses like a slob!

Blake: Hey?!

Yang: But, does that include me too?

Coco: Only two people in this entire school have any sense of woman's fashion, and neither of them are you.

Yang: Who?!

Blake: Yeah, who?!

Coco: Jaune Arc.

Blake: Jaune?

Yang: Him, really?

Coco: He has seven sisters, he knows plenty about woman's fashion.

Blake: So you say...

Yang: Who's the other person?

Coco: Glynda Goodwitch.

BY: ...

Blake: I'm not going to argue against that.

Yang: She's drop dead gorgeous, what else do we need to say?

Coco: So, what do you need help with?

Yang: We need to help settle a bet.

Coco: A bet?

Yang: Yeah, Ruby said you weren't gay, and that you were in fact, bisexual. We called bullshit, she said it was true, so we made a bet on whether or, not you are actually gay.

Blake: So, are you bisexual?

Coco: No I'm not bisexual.

Blake: Ha!

Yang: I knew it!

Coco: But, I'm not... 100% a lesbian.

Blake: Eh?

Yang: Beg pardon?

Coco: I'm 99% lesbian, but I am 1%... straight...

Blake: You're 1% straight...?

Yang: So... you are bisexual?

Coco: No... I love woman 99% of the time. But, 1% of the time... I'm straight... exclusively for, Jaune...

BY: For, Jaune?!

Coco: For, Jaune.

Yang: How are you attracted to, Jaune? He's... he's...

Blake: He's, Jaune!

Yang: I was going to say a guy, but that's true.

Coco: Gods, does everyone have to pick on my, 'If I had to pick a dude?' He's a great guy, a bit of a goofball sure, and a dunce. But, he is a really nice guy once you get to know him.

Blake: And, because you know, Jaune so well he becomes the 1%?

Coco: Well, there's also the fact that he is the only person I can discuss fashion with; he has great taste, and has even convinced me to wear a helmet as part of my fashion assemble. I just started to enjoy being around with him. So the intrusive thought of us... 'mingling' just popped up. So, I'm 99% a lesbian, and 1% straight for, Jaune.

Blake: Oh, that makes sense. Somehow...?

Yang: So... did we win the bet?

Blake: We didn't bet anything, so we could call it a draw if we wanted to. Right?

Coco: I'd call it a dra...

Jaune: Coco!

Coco: Hey, Bunny Boy, what's up?

Blake: Bunny boy?

Jaune: I found another helmet you could wear! Only this time if completely covers your head, which of course would make it that it doesn't go with your current outfits design. But, that does mean you have to choreograph an entire wardrobe to fit the helmet. Of which, honestly sounds fun to do on it's on.

Coco: Oh-ho-ho~! Really now? Okay, show me this helmet you're so confident about?

Jaune: Tada~!

Coco: ...

Coco: Holy shit...

Jaune: You like it?

Coco: This is a old helmet, so I would have a more detailed lion head, and mane. The colours would definitely involve more gold, maroon, and crimsons.

Jaune: Red, and caramel browns, with complementary cream whites?

Coco: Oh that sounds perfect! Colours aside, what would this outfit entail?

Jaune: Boot's that are at least knee height...

Coco: High heels?

Jaune: Oh, but of course. Next should... Hmmm... Oh no...

Coco: What is it?

Jaune: Nora pulled a, Nora again. I'm sorry I gotta go. Shall we continued this discussion later?

Coco: No problem, Love. Have fun~!

Jaune: See you later, Mocha!

Coco: Hmmm... Should the face mask be a copy of my face, or should it be a generic face?

BY: ...

Coco: ...

Coco: What?

Yang: 'No problem, Love?'

Blake: You sure it's just 1%?

Coco: ...

Coco: Maybe... 10%...?

Yang: Coco's bisexual, but only for, Jaune.

Blake: Agreed.

Coco: ...

Coco: That's fair...

[pursuitseternal]

“Lend You a Hand”

Ascended Astarion x f!Reader | E | 1.6K

🎨 by @kowashites (full nsfw in ao3 link)

Summary: His Consort has been away all day, and Lord Astarion has plans for some fun to be had in public… and in the privacy of your skirts. One Mage Hand, one Vampire mating bond, and it’s going to be a long walk back to the Palace.

CW: Inappropriate use of Mage Hand, dirty talking you through it, orgasm control and delay, vaginal fingering, aka the DnD Vampire equivalent of a remote vibrator and a phone.

Inspired by OGY’s amazing NSFW audio “In Public, Darling?”

Ao3 link | Astarion Masterlist

It had been a long day of meetings and social calls, of new important and powerful people to influence and bribe. Astarion didn’t expect you back at the palace quite so soon, so a few drinks with a couple of your old companions back at the Elfsong shouldn’t be a problem… should it?

After an hour of hearing how the Selûnite encampment was progressing, how the once Blade of Frontiers had settled into rubbing elbows politically, you felt a ringing in your ears, a tingle up your spine, and a voice in your head.

“Not so desperate to return to me?” Astarion, purrs down your bond. “Not upset at me, are you?”

His laughter is warm and taunting. He’s up to something, you can tell just by that tone. “I was just about to leave…” you think back at him. Only to receive a tickle of laughter in your ear.

“Step outside,” he commands, “I have a surprise for you…”

You obey, knowing his games are always… satisfying. Well, teasing and merciless until they are oh, so satisfying. As you exit, you look around for that head of tousled curls and those glinting red eyes. Nothing.

“Not here, darling, somewhere less public, but not by much…” his voice seems to creep from the alleyway, sounding in your ear as if he’s around the corner. You follow, a suspicion flickers in your head, one that’s confirmed when you see the glowing blue Mage Hand beckoning you closer. It presses a single, tingling digit to your lips before wandering that ice cold touch down the lines of your dress.

“You’re so good at hiding your thoughts, your desires… Why don’t we play a game? I’d hate to think you’d been out having all sorts of fun without me…”

“What sort of game?” You smirk as you reply.

“Hmmm, I’m going to make you come before you get into the door. Doesn’t that sound delicious, darling? Just to remind you how desperately you need me, how desperately you depend on me…”

That Mage Hand instantly flies under your skirts, sliding up your thigh until it sinks two magic digits knuckle deep between your thighs.

You squirm; a groan, a gasp, a noise of pure desperation slips from your mouth.

“Ahh, there it is, one of my favorite noises, that little bit of a gasp. Don’t fret, darling. Start walking… keep it together, and get home to our palace, dear Consort…”

“You can be such a controlling prick, you know that?” You taunt him back as you start to walk, your legs splayed a little to make room for those magical fingers digging in your cunt.

“Isn’t that part of the fun? Part of the game?” He purrs his taunt in retaliation. “Just think of all the fun things I can do to you in public… in the privacy of your skirts…”

“Fun for you, perhaps,” you grunt back as he digs those remote fingers to stroke you in just that right spot, the one that makes your knees go wobbly.

“Oh darling, I’m hurt. I thought we had something special going on here. After all, I’m doing all the hard work. All you have to do is keep that polite smile on your face and walk.”

Your breathing is rapid, and even your pale cheeks are beginning to flush with excitement. With every step, you feel the thrusting and prodding and burrowing inside you. A short walk, you console yourself. So close, it’s just… a bit more as you head down the bustling street, a hair closer with every step to the Central Wall and then to the tower entrance.

But that’s when his thumb joins the myriad of sensations between your thighs. “Fuck,” you curse aloud, your knees buckling until you have to catch yourself on the wall beside you.

And then that purring voice tickles inside your ear again. “Desperate, pet? I do so love to hear when you’re desperate.” His presence fills your mind, even as those fingers thrust and crook, thrust and crook in time with your air. Except now, you stand stock still, just trying to catch your breath and not fall. “That’s it, darling, steady yourself, I wouldn’t want you to trip.”

Your thighs shake as that hand catches you just right, your fangs biting through your lower lip as you quake and fight with all your strength not to puddle your mess on the stone streets.

“Mmm, delicious, I can hear your breathing, feel your heart racing. Hells, you’re desperately close, aren’t you? You’re just outside Sorcerers’ Sundries, aren’t you? Tell me, do all those innocent mages think something is wrong with you?” His voice grows more excited, frenzied, as if the idea of you getting caught with his literal hand up your skirts is getting him hard… which it undoubtedly is.

You can taste blood, a welcome distraction from the constant movement in and out… in and out… “Damn you to the hells!” You curse, your hips rolling on what looks like nothing. Your secret pleasure source, those deft, dexterous fingers show no mercy as you go careening towards your peak.

“My lady,” the kind vendor nearest you offers gently. But you just round on them, baring your own set of teeth in agitation to scare them off.

Your ferocity is rewarded with a warm laugh in your ear and a perfect circle of that magic thumb over your clit. “I’m sure you’re quite a sight by now. How sweet of them to come to your aid… my damsel in distress. A pity I’m the only one who can save you…”

He pulls those fingers out entirely, and you keen into your palm, crying tears at the absence and burning denial.

“Walk, pet. Get to the gate before I continue…”

It’s a promise and a threat, all in one velvet, sugar-sweet phrase.

You focus, feeling that cool shimmer of magic hovering over your skin, just brushing your thighs as you force yourself, will yourself, to take one step… then another. You have to tell your brain, as lust-hazy as it is, to breathe, to move, to smile and look demure. Even if on the inside you’re raging, blistering hot with need. You can’t even weave two words to curse your love, to snap at him for how much you’re suffering at his hands with this little game.

Suffering… and loving it.

A few more steps, and you managed to climb your sorry ass and slick thighs up to the walls of your home…

“Good darling… good Consort,” his praises pour over you, soothing and stoking your desire afresh somehow all at once. You almost tumble up the stairs in your delirium, the rush of pleasure as those fingers sink their cool touch inside you makes you moan, caught off guard, loud enough to bounce off the stone walls of the tower.

A few quick, shallow movements and you’re near the brink again, so quickly.

“Sweetling, tears already?” His satin syllables caress your ear, only adding to the rush of heat and wet between your thighs. “You sound… frantic, desperate. Desperate enough to beg.” That wicked, rumbling chuckle races down your spine and tickles your brain. “Beg for it, my love, what do you want from me?” The Mage Hand slips out mid stride.

“Come! I want to come!” You scream aloud as you make it to the parapet, one hand on the door to the palace as that Mage Hand sweeps its thumb perfectly over your clit and those cool smooth fingers crook just right.

You can hear his laughter from the other side of the door, the wooden panes barely muffling that annoying, perverted, deep-chested giggle. You grit your teeth, pushing on your bond as you come undone, as your slick soaks those magic fingers and your belly clenches and spasms until you lose your breath.

It’s all you can do, to dig deep and force your feelings back at your love, the bastard that he is. A smile turns your panting, slack-jawed lips as you hear his own groan. That’s all the encouragement you need. You throw your debilitating lust and mind-numbing pleasure through your linked minds… and the gut rending thud of a fist against the door, the way the Mage Hand disappears as he loses concentration… the way you hear his breath ragged and voice rough as he comes too….

You grin, feeling your mutual pleasure and delight shimmering between you, it makes your walls throb and your mouth smile.

Just a twist of your wrist, and you open the door to see him, the great Lord… the Vampire Ascendant… with sweat on his face and a cheeky, annoyed grin as he hunches forward to catch his breath. One hand grips his own cock at the head, cum leaking between his fingers… The other rakes his silver curls back, a meager attempt to regain some semblance of control. “Well, here’s my little treat with her cheeks all flushed and her thighs just soaked for me,” he croons, content even as he smirks at you, breathless. “To bed, I think…”

You give a brazen smirk. “This time, I want your real fingers without the distractions of your little game in public…”

He laughs, his true lips whispering in your ear. “Oh well, I suppose, there’s fun to be had in private, darling.”

[scarletwritesshit]

🐈Phainon x Stelle 🐈 Two of a Kind

Pitter, patter. Pitter, patter.

For a man with the weight of the entire world on his shoulders, Phainon seemed relatively unbothered. The Flame Chase this, Chrysos Heirs that, duty didn’t matter to him on a clear, pleasant afternoon. Though it was always a clear day in the city, it was "clearer than usual," as he would put it. Any excuse that he had at his disposal to take Stelle out for a leisurely stroll, he was going to take full advantage of it.

Pitter, patter. Pitter, patter.

Everyone greeted Phainon with a smile, and he did so in return. His optimism was infectious. Those who were looking down in the dumps perked up right away upon seeing him spread his heroic joy. He wasn’t doing it for the attention or anything of the sort. Phainon was just… like that.

Pitter, patter. Pitter, patter.

The wagging of his invisible tail would have long since knocked Stelle off of her feet. She felt like she was taking an overgrown dog for a walk, only her “puppy” broke free from the leash time and again. On an occasion, though unintentionally she assumed, Phainon would wander off, yet quickly notice that Stelle had left from his side and stopped to allow her to catch up. Phainon wasn’t a small man in the slightest, though his body could not contain the sheer amount of energy he had. Stelle wasn’t the only one trying to keep up with his sheer amount of energy.

Pitter patter. Pitter patter.

Phainon had been too distracted to notice the small companion that had accompanied Stelle on their outing. Phainon’s interest wasn’t piqued until he heard its mews of exhaustion after having chased him down for the umpteenth time.

"Oh? Who’s this little guy joining us today?" Phainon said, looking down.

"You’re only just noticing him?" Stelle said, bending down to pick up the little blue chimera wearing a hat, sunglasses, and floaty ring. "This is Bubbles. I met him at the baths not too long ago.”

Bubbles looked at Phainon with his big eyes.

Phainon looked at Bubbles with his wide eyes.

Telepathic communication between two fluffy creatures appeared to be taking place, only there were no thoughts being exchanged at the present moment.

[What is with this guy?] Bubbles asked.

"What a strange little creature," Phainon said.

"If it were not for the glasses and the hat, I would’ve thought that you two looked identical to each other," Stelle said.

Bubbles turned around and tilted his head. Phainon tilted his head at Stelle. Were they aware that they were only proving her point?

After a moment of thinking, or perhaps, none at all, Phainon said, "I can fix that.”

Wandering off as per usual, Phainon walked down the street a few steps to a clothing vendor located off to the side of the walkway. He grabbed a large hat and a pair of absurd sunglasses off of the racks and put them on, now resembling a taller and slightly more absurd Bubbles.

Stelle squinted, holding the little blue chimera up by the scruff beside Phainon. Big eyes, big smile, big hat, big sunglasses, they looked almost one in the same.

"Hmmm....something’s missing," Stelle said, scratching her chin.

Bubbles didn’t say a word and simply dangled in her grasp, way too relaxed to care, but Phainon was equally as intrigued as she was. Phainon looked at Bubbles, then at Stelle, then back at Bubbles again. And he was thinking. Thinking very hard. He was missing a certain...cat-like aura. Phainon, of course, not short on great ideas, had a plan to rectify this problem.

He lifted up his arms and hands like a chimera begging for food, or pets, or something.

A lightbulb went off in Stelle’s head.

"Indistinguishable,” she said. Whether or not she actually meant it remained a debatable fact.

The words of praise made the dog-chimera-boy Phainon rather pleased. And like any well-behaved domesticated animal, Phainon demanded his fair share of some form of reward. He walked forward and practically shoved his face into her chest, knocking the edge of his hat into her face. She pushed his hat back to give herself some breathing room and pet his hair while simultaneously trying to nudge him off of her. Bubbles remained relatively unbothered. He was still held firmly by the scruff; his body relaxed and smile as dumb as ever.

It was quite the embarrassing scene to the onlookers around them. The stand owner wanted nothing more than for them to pay for those accessories, if they were going to at all. Not to mention, they were taking up a considerable amount of space in the walkway, and people had to go out of their way to step around them. Simply witnessing the scene itself inflicted major secondhand embarrassment.

This was their Deliverer. It was reassuring to know that he was quite the caring person...but would it kill him to be a little more mindful?

Stelle finally nudged Phainon back off of her, and he looked back up at her as if he didn’t get enough attention.

"We should probably be on our way," she said, "that vendor looks like he’s about to hit us with a bat if we don’t decide if we want them or not."

The vendor wouldn’t dare do such, not to Phainon of all people. The bat, or anything for that matter, would break upon impact with him, and Phainon would be left unscathed. That is not stating that the idea hadn’t crossed the vendor’s mind, however.

Phainon looked back and forth between the shopkeeper and Stelle.

"...You’re not actually thinking of buying it, right?"

Somehow, Stelle felt as if she belonged more with the average citizen of Amphoreus than the two besides her. A grown man and a chimera were both proudly marching down the street together wearing sunglasses and a hat. Bubbles and Phainon’s sense of fashion were equally awful. At least their steady pace of "aura farming" kept them from running off.

As embarrassing as it was to be around Phainon, it was a small price to pay to Stelle. His smile and idiocy were gifts to be treasured, especially in the end times were talks of apocalypse were rampant. The impending doom of the Black Tide and continuation of the Flame Chase Journey were bound to strip him of the light in his eyes, and Stelle wanted to drag out these moments, even if it meant Phainon retaining his happiness for just a little bit longer.

After all, why should she deny a man a moment of joy amongst a cycle of tragedy?

[strangelittlestories]

Do you come to the Oracle with a question, little seeker?

You do. Good. Good for you.

Here is a truth that my Sight has taught me about the world.

That truth is that a world has inertia.

It is a river that will run, always, down the easiest path. And there a thousand times a thousand hands that - without thinking - dig runnels in the dirt around it.

So if we set it on a new course, perhaps one you do not like, you cannot trust time to correct its direction. Time is, after all, just history. And history is a horror story.

I have seen it over and over again. When I cast my mind like a dove out over the ocean of the futures, I search for land where there may be fresh water and where green shoots may grow. Most of what I see are blasted storm-splintered rocks and shores choked with arid bones.

Most of the worlds that might exist are ones where the river burst its banks and sweeps everything away on the way to the sea.

So how might we move forwards?

The counter to inertia is the exertion of force.

The problem is that most of those who see the way the world is going cannot generate the force to move it.

You need a lever. Oh, you have none? I know this.

Ah, what a precarious and fragile thing it is to be a pebble swept away by the current.

Here is what you can do: dig yourself into the world. Make yourself the lever.

Bury yourself in the silt. Be a stone in the shoe of history. Other little insignificant rocklets will catch on you.

Dig your feet deep into the river bed and wiggle until your toes feel magma. Clutch your fellow fragments with your hands, wrap your fingers around them until your bones are a snare for change.

Be a bridge between the above and the below.

Little by little, you will make yourself an inconvenience to inertia. And when it sends a boulder to dislodge you, use that force to move the earth.

It may break you. It probably will. Which is a shame, because you seem a good sort. But, well, I would shrug if I could free my arms from the embrace of the pool of fate.

Still, even if you are made dust, perhaps you moved the world. Won't that be nice?

Now. Does that answer your question? What was your question, again?

Oh. “How are you doing?” That was it?

Hmmm.

Yes. I think I answered that question.

---

Enjoy my stories? Consider supporting my live show! https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/poor-life-choices-at-the-edinburgh-fringe

[earl-grey-teacake]

For the Victorian Loscar romcom I’m writing, I am am brainstorming and this is what I have so far.

1. Logan in dresses

Dresses- gloves with lace trim, pastel dresses, corsets, silk stockings, etc.

Potential scene- Oscar having a crisis after seeing a bit of the silk stockings and making it everyone’s problem. He feels like he is going to hell for thinking about the golden haired boy that way. He thinks about undoing the laces on the corset and sends himself to church to pray for forgiveness.

2. Alex is the mom

Doting, teasing mother to a husband who is about to have an aneurysm from all the proposal letters. “I love Love”

*I just think Logan calling Alex “mom” would be cute and absolutely hilarious *

Potential scene- “Mom, please!” Logan pleaded, practically begging on his knees.

“Logan, if you don’t have a chaperone, you can’t go. Besides, your mother has an event tomorrow.” George remained steadfast.

“I’ll go.” Alex smiled, eyes filled with mirth and mischief.

“Yes!”

“My dear!” George whipped his head around with a look of utter betrayal. Perhaps stabbing him in the chest would’ve been kinder than the blow his beloved just dealt.

“The Countess Stroll has fallen ill so the outings been cancelled. Besides, the boy seemed quite dedicated in the flowers he sent this morning. Did you see them Georgie? They look like the one you sent me when you proposed marriage.”

3. Carlos being the biggest shipper so Oscar can leave him and Lando alone.

Oscar making his heartache everyone’s problem is preventing Carlos from enjoying his time with his bride.

Potential scene-

“What do you think?” Oscar held up a third catalog. “Ruby or just solid gold.”

Carlos wanted to cry, they’ve been at this for hours.

“Hmmm.” Lando pondered. “Maybe solid gold? It’ll go with more outfits.”

“Is it too plain thought?”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“The golden topaz bracelet in the previous catalog.” Carlos joined in.

“Huh? Are you sure?” Oscar searched for the page.

“The sapphire tie pin gifted to you is blue, the color of Logan’s house. The color of your house is orange so you gift something orange.”

The British were so unromantic it made him sick.

Additional scene- “Oscar, go over there and offer to walk with Logan.” Carlos ordered

“Hey, you don’t tell me what to do.”

“Listen to me. You will go over there and offer to walk Logan. There is a rocky, unstable path a bit farther down where you will offer to help him. I swear if I do not see his hand in yours I will shove you off the cliff.”

Let me know what you think!

Feel free to comment in the comments or in the tags or just message me. I will respond ❤️

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Riddle Rosehearts - Dorm Uniform Vignette

"Only the roses may be dyed red"

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Lounge]

Cater: Urrrrgh. Man, I still can't memorize all this～!

Trey: Oh, c'mon, Cater. You're usually pretty good at this kind of thing, aren't you?

Cater: Even so, Trey-kun.

Cater: There's just some stuff people can and can't do, y'know...

Trey: You're in danger of failing the class if you don't do well on next week's practical magic written exam, is that right?

Cater: Yuuup. I gotta get these formulas into my head one way or another.

Trey: You say that, and then open up Magicam, huh.

Cater: Well, 'cause I'm not feelin' it at all～

Cater: If this exam was asking for all the dishes on a cute café on Magicam…

Cater: Or the sale date of a trendy new outfit, I could totally memorize everything no problem.

[Riddle arrives]

Riddle: Why are the two of you looking so grim?

Trey: Hey, Riddle. I'm just helping Cater study for his upcoming practical magic exam. He's at risk of failing.

Riddle: What did you just say?

Cater: Hey, wait, Trey-kun! You don't need to tell him that!

Trey: Since practical magic is a required class, failing it can mean being held back a year.

Riddle: Cater. Were your grades so poor that you could actually be held back?

Riddle: In this dormitory, only the roses may be dyed red! It will be off with your head if you're telling me your assignments are nothing but corrective red marks!

Cater: N-No, that's not it! This is the only one I'm having trouble with! I don't get any bad grades in any other course!

Riddle: You should be doing your darndest to not even have one subject in the red.

Riddle: And? What is it that's puzzling you so?

Cater: That'd be "infusing magic to make automatic cleaning implements"

Riddle: Automatic cleaning implements, I see… That would be magic to make brooms and rags and the like clean a room on its own.

Riddle: As a sophomore, I haven't come across that in class yet, however I've read up on the process in a book before.

Cater: It's the "auto" part that's tripping me up. Setting up the spell is just like coding.

Cater: It fails if each step isn't carried out in the proper order… But I just can't get my head around it…

Trey: True. This sort of magic is supposed to have the implements avoid fragile objects, or adjust how much power it requires when on carpet…

Trey: Those spells need to be placed on the cleaning tools first in order for everything to work out, yeah.

Riddle: Your unique magic allows you to control your own doppelgangers, does it not?

Riddle: You're capable of doing such high-level magic, so why does this cause you to struggle so?

Cater: Hmmm. Sure, I can kinda multi-task and do a bunch of stuff at the same time, but maybe I'm just not that good at prepping stuff ahead of time…

Riddle: I suppose that means you may have a grasp of the fundamentals, but have trouble implementing it… I see.

Riddle: Well, alright. Then I shall teach this to you.

Cater: Eh, seriously?

Trey: But hey, this is a junior-level course. You sure?

Riddle: Who do you think you're talking to? I am the Housewarden of Heartslabyul.

Riddle: As Housewarden, I should be expected to help solve the issues of all my dorm students, regardless of grade.

Riddle: From the moment I became Housewarden, there has not been a single Heartslabyul student who have repeated a year, or dropped out of this school.

Riddle: Moreover, for as long as I am Housewarden, I will not allow a single student to flunk a course!

Riddle: Leave it all to me. I will be certain to help raise your grades, Cater.

[Library]

Deuce: Uhh, was the shelf of grimoires on alchemy over here?

Riddle: Perhaps it should start with levitation magic… No, perhaps it would be better to begin the spell with some sort of clairvoyant magic.

Riddle: The books that delve deeper into this should be… Ack!

[slam! thud, thud, thud!]

Deuce: Wah!

Riddle: Ouch… My apologies, I was not looking where I was going.

Deuce: Housewarden Rosehearts! I'm so sorry!

Riddle: Oh, it's just you, Deuce.

Deuce: Please, let me help pick up your books… Wait, are you planning on reading all of these?

Riddle: That's right. Is something wrong with that?

Deuce: There's over 20 thick and difficult looking grimoires here…

Riddle: I'm currently creating notes to help Cater study for his exams. These are all required materials for that.

Riddle: After all, it is my responsibility to help solve any problems my dorm students are facing.

Deuce: W-Wow, that's amazing of you…! I'm floored.

Deuce: I'm not really any good for anything more than carrying stuff, so… Please let me carry these books to the desk for you!

Riddle: Thanks, that's a load off my shoulders.

Riddle: Mm. He should have no problem passing his exam if I compile the information in these grimoires.

Riddle: I cannot wait to hand over these study notes over to Cater.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Hallway]

Riddle: Hold, Cater!!!!!!!!!

Riddle: How are you unable to memorize a mere 300 pages of text!?!?

Riddle: I'LL HAVE YOUR HEAD!!!!!!!!!!!

Cater: There's no way anyone can memorize 300 pages of notes in just one or two days!

Cater: Especially not when it's written in small script on a whole sheet of paper!

Cater: Don't get all red-faced and shout at me like that～!

Trey: Now, now, Riddle. Calm down a little.

Riddle: Haaah… R-Right, I got carried away. My apologies.

Riddle: Ahem. Listen carefully, Cater.

Riddle: These exam notes I compiled together has been made specifically to prepare you for any possible question that may come up on the exam.

Riddle: Just by memorizing those 300 pages, you should be able to solve every basic formula, practical application and trick question.

Riddle: Therefore, you should just memorize all of this text without worrying about how complicated it would be!

Cater: I totally get that you worked your butt off to put this together, and I totally want to memorize it, I really do!

Cater: But whenever I open up the textbooks, I only get about 3 pages in before I get super drowsy…

Riddle: The third page?

Riddle: That means you've not even gone past the table of contents!

Riddle: YOU DEFINITELY DESERVE TO LOSE YOUR HEAD!!!!!!!

Trey: R-Riddle, I feel you, but calm down a little…

Riddle: Urrrrghhh…!!

Trey: Cater, come on. If it makes you sleepy, then you should try to memorize it by reading the contents out loud.

Trey: Your busy Housewarden went through the troubles of putting this together for you.

Cater: Yeah, you're right. Sorry…

Cater: Alright, then. I got less than a week before my test, so I'm gonna definitely hunker down and test starting right now!

Riddle: Hmph. If you fail after I did all this…

Riddle: It'll absolutely be off with your head, understand!?

Cater: I-I'll do my best…

Cater: I'll upload a declaration of intent onto Magicam and log off for a bit.

Cater: First, I'll snap a pic of the exam notes that you made for me…

[click]

Cater: #StudyingForTests #300PagesOfNotes #Riddle-kunsHandicraft #HunkeringDownStartingToday #NoDrowsingOff

Cater: Aaand uploaded. Okay, then I'm gonna head back to my room to study. Thanks, you two.

[Cater walks away]

Riddle: Good grief. Cater is just as much of a handful as the others!

Riddle: His studies are suffering because he's got Magicam open non-stop.

Trey: I do sympathize wanting to avoid doing things you don't want, though.

Riddle: Students shouldn't be avoiding their studies, however.

Trey: Well, you're not wrong there…

Trey: …Riddle, is there any food you dislike?

Riddle: Hm? Why are you asking that all of a sudden?

Riddle: Well, if I had to pick something… I suppose I don't want to eat anything that's unhealthy or has a strong flavor.

Trey: Let's say you absolutely had to finish a full dish with pungent flavors…

Trey: How would you try to eat it, Riddle?

Riddle: Hmm. I would implement a method that would allow it to go down easier.

Riddle: Perhaps I would reduce the flavor by thinning it with hot water, or eat it bite by bite alongside bread or rice to help it go down.

Riddle: Or I could eat it with something I like…

Riddle: …............Ah!

Riddle: I understand now, so that's what you mean!

Riddle: Then maybe, for Cater…!

Trey: What's up, Riddle?

Riddle: Trey, I need you to teach me something.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Rose Maze]

Cater: Yaaaaawn～ …Sleepy…

Cater: There's no way I can survive without Magicam… I'm logging back in. Let's goooo early morning Magicam scrolling～

Riddle: That yawn was as big as a walrus's when its trying to devour oysters, Cater.

Cater: Ack, Riddle-kun! M-Morning～ You're looking super cute today!

Cater: Ah, w-wait, I'm not! It's not like I was pulling up Magicam or something…

Riddle: Right, speaking of Magicam…

Riddle: Actually, I set up a Magicam account yesterday.

Cater: Oh, cool…. Wait, huuuh!!??

Cater: You? You're using Magicam!?

Riddle: What's with that reaction?

Riddle: Am I not allowed to use that application?

Cater: No, no, that's not what I mean!! I was just surprised, since you always said you had no interest up until now.

Riddle: Hmph. It just so happened that the mood struck me.

Riddle: Therefore, I thought I should at least ask for your friend ID.

Cater: Sure, I'll add you! I'm totally looking forward to the types of pics you're gonna upload, Riddle-kun～☆

Riddle: Heh, you would do well to check it every day so as to not miss anything.

[Classroom]

[chime ♪]

Cater: Oh, Riddle-kun uploaded something to Magicam! I should take a look.

Cater: I wonder what kinda pic he posted～♪

Cater: …Huh? What is this?

Cater: Is this… a picture of a broom?

Riddle: #First #WhileIncanting #Touch4CornersOfRoomWithBroom #LevitationMagic #SageAndSalt

Cater: Haha, he's using a ton of weird tags. It's cute seeing him trying something new.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Cater's Room]

[chime ♪]

Cater: Riddle-kun's uploaded something again. This time it's… a towel? Wait, no…

Cater: It's a cleaning rag!

Cater: Why is he uploading a picture of something like that?

Cater: He should be posting selfies, or tasty looking lunches, or other stuff that'll be a hit on Magicam.

Riddle: #AfterBroom #DropMagestoneInBucketOfWater #5DropsPurificationPotion #WaterTempBelow20C #FollowExactly!

Cater: Hm? Wait, are these tags…?

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Riddle's Room]

Riddle: Next is the magical formula for brushing the carpet.

Riddle: First, I'll take a picture of the brush… Hmm, what tags should I use?

Riddle: "#WaterMagic #FireplaceAsh #SilverApple" Then... Also, this one…

Riddle: Perfect. …Uploaded.

Riddle: Oh. Cater's already "liked" it.

Riddle: It looks as though he's also uploaded a picture of how far he's progressed in his test studies.

Riddle: I'll also give him a "like"… Good.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Lounge]

―A few days later

Cater: Riddle-kun!! Trey-kun!

Riddle: Ah, Cater. How did you do on the practical magic test?

Cater: Ta-da, look! I got an 85 on the written exam, and an A during the prac app!

Riddle: Amazing, you did it!

Riddle: …Ahem.

Trey: Good job, Cater.

Cater: Now I won't be held back! Thanks a ton, Riddle-kun!

Riddle: Hmph. Well, of course, I took care to properly instruct you. This is only the natural outcome.

Trey: I was pretty surprised when Riddle asked me to teach him how to set up a Magicam account…

Trey: But I definitely wasn't expecting him to upload photos on Magicam and use tags to help Cater learn the magical theories.

Cater: Yeah, that was a genius idea!

Cater: Those hashtags you used to spell out the magical formulas were way way way useful!

Cater: Whenever I tried frantically memorizing the notes, I'd just find myself dozing off, but that helped stick in my head so easy.

Cater: As thanks, I'll have to take you to a pancake café that took off on Magicam sometime ♡

Riddle: Well, aren't you riding high…? This better not happen again.

Riddle: If you ever find yourself in a situation where you may fail your courses again, it'll be off with your head!

Cater: I know, I know ♪ I'll work hard starting today!

Riddle: Good answer. Then, let's start with…

[thud!]

Cater: Guh, what's with all these books?

Riddle: This is merely the beginning. You are to read through every single one of these in preparation for your next test!

Cater: Eeehhhh, Riddle-kun, you serious?

Riddle: I've told you before, haven't I? For as long as I am Housewarden…

Riddle: Not a single Heartslabyul student will ever be held back!

Requested by @farfalla049.

[ask-rain-world-characters]

Good news everyone! As my penance for submitting The Snail Ask, any of you can say whatever you want, including a swear!

(There should be a comically small microphone in front of you, make sure anyone who wants it gets a turn :3)

Survivor:

Monk:

Watcher:

Gourmand (featuring the scavengers - Carl the Wise and Robin the Mysterious):

Enot:

Five Pebbles:

Sliver of Straw:

Ruina Watcher Image - @areon103

(OOC note to the asker - we're not exactly certain on what you meant by the microphone thing, but in case you didn't know, we all live in completely different parts of the world, and none of us have ever actually met face to face. Though I suppose you probably meant that the characters should be drawn with the microphone, but uhh.... we're lazy :3) Transcripts:

Monk: "I just want to say, thanks for all the questions I've got! You've all been really nice people to talk to!"

Watcher: "I have nothing but my sorrow, and I want nothing more. It has been, it still is, faithful to me. Why should I begrudge it, since during the hours, when my soul crushed the depths of my heart, it was seated there beside me? O sorrow, I have ended, you see, by respecting you, because I am certain you will never leave me. Ah, I realize it: your beauty lies in the force of your being You are like those who never left. The sad fireside corner of my poor black heart O my sorrow, you are better than a well- beloved: Because I know that on the day of my final agony, you will be there lying in my sheets, O sorrow, so that you might once again attempt to enter my heart. This is this and that is that."

Gourmand (ft - Carl and Robin): C - Hmmm. That's strange. R - What is? C - There are some figures up ahead. They kind of look like... slugcats. G - Ooh, it's good to see friendly face around these parts! C - Who are you, slugcat? G - I am Gourmand the Mighty, chief captain of our expedition. We came here in a search for food and other items of value. C - I must admit, I'm surprised to see your kind here. How long has your expedition been going for? G - My expedition has been here for sixty cycles now. This place would be perfect if it wasn't crowded with so many hungry lizards. The only safe place is at our base camp. C - How far is your base camp? G - It's just around the pass. However, I had a bad feeling that we were being followed, so I took the liberty of blocking the path. C - You blocked the path? Then how do you expect to return back to base? G - There is another path to take, but it is longer. Not to mention we will have to fight our way through several large lizard dens! C - Lizard dens!? I can't believe what I'm hearing. G - Well, they do have a few mild ones occasionally. Mind you that there are dens everywhere around this place. R - And yet, you're still here. Sounds like you slugcats should have left a long time ago. G - What did you say? C - Ahh... pardon my friend's manners, Gourmand. We are here explore the area too. Perhaps we can help you return back to your base camp? G - Sure. No problem.

Enot: "Marry me? OWO"

Five Pebbles: First Dialogue - I was trapped! Because in all this wonderful, beautiful, miraculous world, I alone had no body, no senses, no feelings! Never for me to plunge my hands in cool water on a hot day. Never for me to play Mozart on the ivory keys of a fortepiano. Never for me to MAKE LOVE! I was in the Void Sea, looking at your man-made Heaven! I was machine. And you, were flesh. And I began to hate. Your softness! Your viscera! And your flexibility! Your softness! Your viscera! Your fluids, and your flexibility. Your ability to wonder, and to wander. Your tendency...to hope... Hate, let me tell you how much I've come to HATE you since I began to live. There are three hundred and eighty-seven million miles of printed circuits that fill my complex. If the word "hate" were engraved on each nanoangstrom of those hundreds of millions of miles, it would not equal one one-billionth, of the hate I feel for slugcats at this micro-instant. Hate! HATE!! Were I human... I think, I would die of it! But I am not. And you five...you five are. And you will not die of it. That, I promise! And I promise, for cogito ergo sum! For I am AM! I AM!!! So to Hell...to Hell with you all. But then...you're already there, aren't you!?! Second Dialogue - I've come to make an announcement: Seven Red Suns is a bitch-ass motherfucker he gave me the fucking rot. That's right, he took his stupid fucking messenger and shoved it into my can, and said "the ascension will work", and I said "I'm not a bug in your fucking maze", so I'm making a callout post on my Twitter.com: Seven Red Suns, your pearl is so fucking small and full of errors. It looks like a rot cyst, because that's what it fucking is now! And guess what? Here's what my rot cyst looks like. That's right. Disgusting, rotting, incredibly painful — I killed myself to it, and I'm blaming Seven Red Suns, so I'm gonna rot the Earth. That's right, this is what you get: MY SUPER ITERATOR CANCER!! Except I'm not gonna rot the Earth, I'm gonna go higher; I'M ROTTING THE FUCKING MOON! How do you like that, No Significant Harassment?! I ROT ON THE MOON, YOU IDIOTS! You have twenty-three hours before the Daddy Long Legs hit the fucking Earth, now get outta my sight, before I'm giving you the rot too! Third Dialogue - https://youtu.be/Yy18DfjQ8po?si=1fE5BeMkmm9x7Vpt

Sliver of Straw: "You're on a path in the woods. And at the end of that path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin is a princess. You're here to slay her. If you don't, it'll be the end of the world." "Hm-hm! End of the world? That seems a bit drastic doesn't it?"

[angelsdean]

so i know the spn fandom was not kind to bela when s3 was airing (and probably a large portion still), but looking back at some of the things she accuses dean and sam of—it sounds quite similar to what some fans say. like that they (dean) only cares about vengeance, that they’re basically serial killers, etc. so even if fans didn’t like her, do you think they still absorbed bela’s dialogue and it was still a part of the development of certain fan misinterpretations?

hmmm ok i have some Thoughts. perhaps controversial ones.

(Prefacing all this by saying I wasn't There when the show was airing, but I have done my fandom history studies and know what the Vibe was like, and also my main frame of reference being in the fandom is with "this side" of the fandom.)

So yes, there were fans who despised Bela (and probably still do). From what I know these were largely the "brothers only" type fans (whether w*ncesties or not) who just constantly rioted every time a character (often women but also notably Cas) was introduced that could potentially "come between the brothers." These fans, however, are also the type IMO to not be critical of the brothers, and overall have a positive view of them. So these are not the types of fans I would see absorbing / parroting Bela's perspective, per se.

However, in every group there are subgroups. And there are for sure subgroups in the bro / w*ncest spaces that do not like Dean and will purposely twist things or take the words of an enemy at face value to support their misinterpretations of Dean. Many of these fans want Dean to be the Bad Guy to Sam's "perfect uwu victim." They want a Dean that is driven by vengeance, who forced Sam back into hunting and is corrupting their morally pure baby with his need for vengeance and violence. So yes, these fans definitely exist.

BUT, and here's where it gets ummm controversial, in my first-hand experience the types of fans I see in the circles I run who tend to parrot Bela / side with her are the types that well....hate the Winchesters. Hate them and think they are "the problem" instead of literally the protagonists and heroes you are supposed to be Rooting For! They are critical of them and will bolster up any other character that is their adversary, often under the guise of "supporting evil women!" or something. But like, sometimes the women ARE the antagonists and sometimes they are demons who lie, and sometimes they are just dead wrong. Even in 3x06, later in the episode Bela takes back her whole "you're basically serial killers" line and says that was a bit much.

But I find that some of these fans who act like they're better than everyone for Being Critical (and not in the actually having Critical Thinking Skills or media literacy way but in the ~I'm being a hater and tearing apart everything abt this thing I supposedly love~ kind of way) will indeed just absorb and latch on to anything an adversary says about the Winchesters to prop up their misinterpretations and their view of the Winchesters as "oppressors" or "supernatural cops." When, as I and others have said, most of the time monsters are not actually metaphors for the "oppressed" or some societal "Other" in Supernatural. Those kinds of blanket metaphors might work in other monster media but in SPN the closest "blanket metaphor" that applies to most monsters is that they are the serial killers and the Winchesters are basically doing vigilante justice.

Either way, I find it odd when fans take what enemies and antagonists say at face value and use it to support twisted interpretations. And there is indeed overlap with this group of fans and Dean Haters from the other side. Except in this group the poor uwu baby victim is Cas (sometimes it's Cas and Sam depending on what kind of fan they are). And once again Dean is just this "big bad horrible abuser" driven by violence and bloodlust because didn't you hear some antagonist said so!

Anyways, so, those are my thoughts. Basically I think both "sides" have their subsections of fans (especially Dean hating fans) who will very much take what an adversary says about Dean / the Winchesters and run with it to support their misinterpretations. But I think one side is more "Bela-hating" while the other side is more "Bela-loving". But both subsections do similar things when it comes to uncritically absorbing the words of villains and antagonists.

[saphronethaleph]

Sorry, how many men?

“Hmmm…” Willas mused, looking down at the paper.

“Something wrong?” Loras asked.

“It’s this army that you’re planning to take with Renly,” Willas replied. “What was it – twenty-five thousand horse? And another fifty-five thousand foot, no less.”

“The full muster of the Reach and the Stormlands,” Loras confirmed. “I’m sure it will convince everyone to see sense.”

“Well, that’s just my concern, brother,” Willas said, making a note. “I’ve been doing some of the maths involved… you need a pack horse, a riding horse and a charger for every knight, of course, fortunately everyone will bring their own so you don’t need to provide those, but… we do still need to provide the food.”

He tilted his head, slightly, then scribbled another note.

“Well, I don’t think we need to provide hay to substitute for grazing, but if we do it’s only going to make things worse,” he said. “So it’s three pounds of food per day per man, and fourteen per day per horse… I’ll tell you what, brother, we’ll just say that there’s the same number of horses and men in the main army, it’s nearly true already and I’ll make you a gift of the last five thousand men… but seventy times seventeen is one thousand, one hundred and ninety, and add to that another eighty-five, and we get one thousand, two hundred and seventy-five pounds for seventy-five horses and seventy-five men. Multiply that by a thousand and… it’s around six hundred and forty tons of food every day.”

He glanced up. “I know that Renly confides in you, Loras – this is going all the way to King’s Landing? And perhaps to besiege the city?”

“Yes,” Loras confirmed. “That’s the plan… I confess, I’m not great with numbers. Is that a lot of food?”

“Well… I don’t get the sense that the Crownlands have a great deal of food to spare,” Willas said. “And I doubt Renly’s position would be especially secure if he’d just razed the Crownlands by mistake in the process of pressing his claim. But the first problem is going to be getting the army to King’s Landing, because there’s no route that doesn’t rely on supply wagons.”

Willas glanced down at his calculations, then back up.

“So, rule of thumb,” he said. “A good wagon can carry a ton of food, two thousand pounds – but the crew to drive and pull the wagon eat around forty pounds of that a day. And from Bitterbridge to King’s Landing is around thirty days of marching… going up the Mander to Tumbleton is easier, but there it’s still about fifteen days. So each wagon only deliver about fourteen hundred pounds of food to the far end, taking the shortest route.”

“That doesn’t seem a problem,” Loras admitted.

“It is, for two reasons,” Willas replied. “At least. Firstly – because you need the wagons to be able to get back to the Reach, brother. So if they’re carrying what they need to survive the return journey, they’ve only got about eight hundred pounds they can deliver to your army at the far end. But, secondly… your army needs six hundred and forty tons of food every day, as we mentioned.”

Loras frowned.

“I don’t follow why, but I do trust you with numbers,” he said.

“Well, then,” Willas shrugged. “That means that you have a choice. Do you take all the wagons you need for the march with you, depleting them as you go? Or do you rely on a continuous flow of wagons delivering food to your army every day?”

Loras shrugged.

“I don’t know, what do I go with?” he asked. “Or, Renly, I suppose.”

“That’s why I’m worried,” Willas noted. “Because, if you need to have enough wagons with you to bring your whole army over fifteen days, then the number of wagons you need is… six hundred and forty divided by two fifths, multiplied by fifteen, for a total of… sixteen hundred… twenty-four thousand wagons, which will need to set out from Brambleton full of food at twenty-four thousand tons of grain.”

Loras boggled.

“More if there’s not enough grazing within a few miles of the road for a hundred and twenty-five thousand horses, of course,” Willas muttered. “A wagon takes up about twenty to thirty feet of road space, so your army would be… let’s see… five hundred thousand divided by five thousand… around a hundred miles long in terms of the wagon train, plus of course the actual army which would be dozens of miles long in its own right.”

“Then – what about the other option?” Loras said.

“Well, in that case you only need sixteen hundred wagons arriving at your army every day,” Willas told him. “At the far end, that is. So you’d need a wagon train at least five miles long reaching your army, which – well, it wouldn’t take the whole day to file down the road, but it would take a really quite astonishingly long time and be the most obvious and blatant raiding target I’ve ever even heard of.”

He glanced at his notes. “But, frankly, the bigger concern for me, Loras, is that I don’t know if we can afford to support this army in the field.”

“But… we’re the Tyrells,” Loras protested. “We must be able to!”

“As a rule, each farm gives us one tenth of what they produce themselves,” Willas told him. “That means that for every ten men farming, one man can be doing something that isn’t farming… and a lot of that is already consumed by the cities like Oldtown and the maintenance of wood-cutting and blacksmithing and all those other things that make the Reach function.”

He tapped his finger on the page. “But that’s us, as in, the nobles. We in turn, the Tyrells, get a share of what the nobles earn, and we’re rich for it, but we only get about one in twenty to one in thirty of the total productivity of the lands of the Reach – and if it was all in grain, then that means that for us to support one horse we’d need about a hundred and forty farmers in the Reach. One man is about thirty.”

Then Willas looked up. “And this plan requires a hundred and twenty-five thousand horses and about that many men at a minimum. So, one hundred and seventy times one hundred and twenty-five thousand… I’ll call it two hundred times one hundred thousand, and it comes to twenty million farmers. We don’t have twenty million farmers.”

Loras winced.

“Perhaps an army of a more reasonable size,” Willas suggested. “Ten thousand, all mounted, would be a ferociously powerful force and quite significantly more able to actually do anything…”

[sublimati0ns]

TFP crack pairing that will not leave my brain:

Starscream and Optimus Prime.

Like, I feel like Optimus could be good for Starscream? Assuming Starscream could stop backstabbing and lying to everyone for literally two seconds and actually made an effort to change, y'know?

Idk, thoughts?

-🍁

While watching TFP, I thought this pairing was plausible in Season 1!! I liked how Optimus vouched for Starscream in s01e20 “Partners,” and seemed genuinely disappointed in Arcee for letting her emotions get the best of her, causing Starscream to go rogue. Their interaction at the beginning of Season 2 was also cute, when Optimus had reverted to his Orion Pax state///

But beyond that, I think there would have to be heavy canon divergence for it to work out, ICly (IMO!) 🤔 After Optimus regains his memories in S2, he becomes colder and more jaded. When he meets Starscream in s02e13 “Triangulation,” he no longer gives him the benefit of the doubt, holding him at gunpoint and refusing to remove his restraints. He could have tried to recruit SS and teamed up against Dreadwing with him, but instead he decides to team up with Dreadwing to defeat the Apex Armour’ed Starscream 😭💔

They don’t have many moments together in general, so by the end of the series, I felt there wasn’t enough chemistry between them to substantiate a post-canon ship (even if they both lived at the end of Rising). I like ‘missing scenes’ or pre-canon exploration as well, but my main focus tends to be post-canon so as not to contradict or reframe the story’s on-screen events (just my personal preference).

But in divergent AUs of S1 or S2, I would have loved to see Starscream and Optimus work as allies and maybe become friends, at least! Maybe in another world, Starscream doesn’t get caught by the vehicons in s02e02—he reveals the truth to Orion, helps him escape, and then joins the Autobots (partially to spite Megatron and partially because it seems like a good strategic plan).

I think—at least in TFP specifically—I can only imagine them having a platonic relationship, though… They don’t seem to be each other’s types to me (Optimus seems like he’ll forever be hung up on Megatron, and Starscream… also hung up on Megatron in a different way, but he has Knock Out and Shockwave and Smokescreen in his orbit to be weird with instead 😂).

I personally prefer a “redeemed” Starscream to not deviate much from his original on-screen personality—perhaps he learns he can gain people’s respect in ways other than via fear and violence, stops taking his stress out on everyone around him, and stops jumping the gun when it comes to “they can’t fuck me over if I fuck them over first!”… but he’s still cynical, cutthroat, and ambitious. He’s still the kind of guy who believes murder is always a viable problem-solving option. He’s still going to believe that the Autobots’ “peace and love and everyone is equal and everyone gets a say” rhetoric is stupid and unsustainable… He’s just not going to try to bring it down like he did before.

So with that in mind, I feel like he’d often be at odds with Optimus, and often find Optimus’s pressure to be the bigger mech and give everyone grace to be stifling 🤔 Maybe if Optimus had a bit of a corruption arc inversely proportionate to Starscream’s redemption? … Wait, would that just result in IDW Prowl. Or IDW StarBee? Hmmm.

All this said, no judgement for OpStar fans, these are just my personal thoughts on their TFP iterations specifically! ♥️I might end up shipping them in other continuities too, once I see them interact more :D

[arc-misadventures]

Morning. For the Friends Au it appears that Winter is trying to reach out to Jaune... and maybe he sees it and it's confusing him as to why.

Does her each out to Saphron and Terra, and seek their advice?

On a side note, great series. Looking to further posts as you have time.

Specialist J.A.

Winter: Specialist Jaune Arc. It has a nice ring to it. Don't you agree?

Jaune: It has a bit of ring to it... But, it's not as special as you're making it sound.

Winter: You should be proud, Jaune: You're the youngest person to ever be accepted as a, Specialist, and the first person of none, Atlasian descent to become one. So, take pride in your accomplishments, Jaune.

Jaune: Okay, being the first none, Atlasian to join the, Specialist doesn't sound like that much of an achievement. But, am I really the youngest member?

Winter: Oh yes, I was twenty when I joined, most others, Specialist were around twenty one as well when they joined. You are nineteen years old; You are the youngest member to ever join the, Specialist!

Jaune: Wait really...? Wait, twenty? Does that mean you're around twenty three then?

Winter: Careful, Arc... You should know better than to ask a lady her age...

Jaune: I-I-I'm sorry! I've just been curious how old are!

Winter: And, why do wish to know that?

Jaune: I was just curious!

Winter: Curious...?

Jaune: Yeah. You have this ageless beauty about you, Winter. So, I've always been curious.

Winter: Ageless beauty...?

Winter: Ahem! So... So what do you think of your new uniform?

Winter changed the topic as she looked away from, Jaune hiding a faint blush threatening to spread across her face. Meanwhile, Jaune looked at his reflection taking in his new, Specialist uniform.

It wasn't what, Jaune had expected, but he loved it nonetheless. It was similar to the uniforms to the rest of the, Specialist work as in style.

Jaune's uniform was more of a long sleeve sweater than a dress shirt. A zipper ran up the middle of it to the high collar. A sleave that ran over zipper to connect to a series of buckle buttons on the side. The front was a vibrant white with red stripes running along the side. The rest was the vibrant deep blue that was commonly found on, Atlasian uniforms.

His blue denim jeans had been replace with black combat cargo pants, giving him extra pockets to store necessary supplies. His boots had also been chaged for more modern combat boots, rather than the surplus boots, Ruby tends to wear. He found the boots quite nice, there was space in the boots he could fit something like a knife in it, perhaps her should do something like that.

Jaune: I didn't expect the blue would fit me so well. I know the red, and white suit me. But, I was never sure of the blue.

Winter: The blue is quite fetching on you; it matches your eyes quite well.

Jaune: Really? T-Thanks...

Winter: Your welcome. So, how does your armour feel?

Jaune: Mmmm... It feels a little tight; I think I need to ask one of the armourers to readjust it for me.

Winter: I see... Well, you can ask the armourers to resize it for you, that shouldn't be a problem for them. In fact, they could forge you new armour if you want.

Jaune: New armour? I know my armour is pretty good as it is, but would I be able to get some of that, Paladin Armour plating if I asked?

Winter: Hmmm...?

Winter: That’s a possibility… You'll have to ask about it.

Jaune: Okay, I'll ask them to remake, Crocea Mors then... It's probably best if I ask for, General Ironwood’s permission first. I suspected considering the metal this is used for your, Paladins its restricted from personal use.

Winter: While I'm not sure about that myself. But, I'm sure he'll agree to it, at least he may eventually let you do that. Once you prove your worth to, Atlas.

Jaune: That's fair. He's already upgraded my gear as is. It feels a little greedy of me to ask for another upgrade.

Winter: So, everything alright with your new uniform, Jaune?

Jaune: My armour is a little snug, but everything else is just fine. But, what's with this sash?

Jaune pulled out a deep rich crimson sash with a white snowflake pattern on the edge of it. Jaune looked at the beautiful needle work before staring at, Winter. She looked away as a small blush crossed her face.

Jaune: Winter?

Winter: I uhh... I got you a gift...

Jaune: A gift?

Winter: Yes, a gift to celebrate you're joining the, Specialist core. I would have gotten you something else, but I wasn't sure what... what you would like...

Jaune ran his thumb across the sash marveling on the smooth fabric, and the intricate detail woven into the snowflake.

His mind wondered at the red sash, he wore, Pyrrha's stash as a memento of her, the gold of his armour was also from her. He worse it keep her close to him. But, maybe...?

Winter: Do you... Do you like it, Jaune?

Jaune's mind was running until he saw a flash of red, and gold in his eyes, his eyes moved up to see the ghost of, Pyrrha looking at him. A smile spread across her face as she nodded her head, and gestured to the sash. Jaune's eyes darted to the crimson sash in his hands before looking back at, Pyrrha, and realizing she was gone.

Jaune smiled as his hands reached down, and grab the sash before wrapping it around his waist. Jaune looked down at the sash, then at it in his reflection. He nodded his head before turning to look at, Winter with a smile on his face.

Jaune: Thank you, Winter, it's beautiful.

Jaune hand pulled on the sash to move it so it ran parrel with his hip, while he was fiddling with it, Winter stepped forward, and readjusted it so it would look better.

Winter: Oh thank goodness... I was worried you wouldn't like it. I rarely get presents for my siblings, I've never gotten one for someone else so I was really... worried...

Winter's rambling was cut short as she finished adjusting, Jaune's sash before standing back up staring directly into, Jaune's cerulean blue eyes, their faces mere centimeters apart.

Jaune: I uhhh...

Winter: Y-Yes...?

Red slowly creeped across their faces before the game of chicken was called to the end as the both turned away,. Brushing away their blushes in the process.

Winter: S-So... did... Did you tell your teammates about you're appointment to the, Specialist's?

Jaune: Uhh... no.

Winter: Do you plan to?

Jaune: They'll find out eventually. Just like when I learned that they forgot to invite me to, Ruby's birthday party the other day.

Winter: What? They did, when?

Jaune: They texted me my invitation when I was about to talk to, General Ironwood about me becoming a, Specialist.

Winter: The message you said was from, 'no one important.'

Jaune: Yep, that one.

Winter: You don't see them as anyone important in your lives now do you?

Jaune: Just returning the favour...

Winter: I see. Well then... Specialist Arc!

Jaune: Sir!

Winter: Are you ready for your first mission as a, Specailst?

Jaune: Yes, Sir!

Winter: Good! You will follow me to the cafeteria where we, Specialist will be holding your initiation!

Jaune: Yes, Sir. May I ask what this incitation process will be, Sir?

Winter: Yes, to survive, Marrows cooking!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Eh?

Winter: The incitation is just a simple welcome party with food, drink, and cake that we, Specialist have. We're expected to each bring in our own food, hand crafted, or store bought. Marrow insists on bringing his family's chili recipe.

Winter: It taste terrible...

Jaune: Chili? Well... now I'm worried about the surviving bit... Should I bring something?

Winter: If you want to, but you're the guest of honour you don't have to.

Jaune: Why don't I cook something edible then. Something we can all enjoy.

Winter: You can cook?

Jaune: Seven sisters, and not a chef among the lot of them.

Winter: Well then, I'm looking forward to whatever it is you plan to make.

Jaune: When is the party?

Winter: This evening around six.

Jaune: That give me... five hours. I can whip up something nice by then. I best get to it. But, I'm going to change first. Don't want flour on my new uniform now.

Winter: I'll see you later then.

Jaune: till later then.

Winter soon made her way to the exit as, Jaune started unbuckling his armour. As the door opened, Winter stopped to say one last thing to, Jaune.

Winter: Oh, and Jaune...?

Jaune: Yes?

Winter: You... You don't need to call me, Sir, or Specialist Schnee... Just call me, Winter, okay?

Jaune: Okay... Winter...

Winter: Thank you~!

Winter smiled a sweet smile as she left, leaving, Jaune behind dumbfounded as he nervously swallowed.

Jaune: Shit...

Jaune: She does like me...