#i have earned this dn

[tai-janai]

(stares at you, not denying that you're pretty)

[doomednarrative]

The thing is that Light Yagami is actually one of my favorite characters of all time, I just don't say it a lot cause I don't want people getting the wrong idea that I agree with him or think he's in the right. He's not, and he sucks, but he does have a depth in the same vein as L that fascinates me, and tbh if I hadn't watched DN for the first time when I was 12 maybe I'd feel different but like. He definitely influenced my taste in characters iirevocably going forward.

[endless-ineffabilities]

backhand stroke (18+)

tennis coach!Aemond x tennis player!reader

Rivals on and off the court, things come to a head between the two when Aemond crosses the line and sabotages the reader's relationship.

themes : challengers inspired, Art Donaldson is featured <3, a lot of cussing, smut!!! (minors dn fckin i), the reader and Aemond hate each other (but if they hate each other why are they fcking), reader may or may not be a cheating bastard, Aemond has a glass eye + he calls the reader ace

a/n : initially I was about to write a fic where Aemond and the reader are actual rivals themselves, but quickly remembered how tennis works 💀 so in this one, Aemond is a coach and reader is a player 🎾

word count : 8k ▪︎ masterlist

The Westeros Open is the biggest and most prestigious tennis tournament in the country. 

Anyone who wants to be someone in the sport aims to qualify for it. 

For you, it is everything. You have devoted your entire life to tennis. It started as something that stemmed from your parents' neglect. Rich folks who signed their young daughter up for extensive tennis lessons just so they can be free of her and galivant off to wherever. 

You had sat there, staring at your shiny, brand-new white tennis shoes. Holding your unused top-of-the-line racket. Hair kept away from your face with a headband that still smelled like the store. 

Mostly left alone by your family, you gathered your strength, and dragged your weak eight-year-old legs across the tennis court day in and day out. 

Through the years, you found yourself. You found home, and you gave everything you had to make sure you would never lose it.

As luck would have it, you found romance along the way in Art Donaldson, who became your coach after your previous one decided to quit. He used to be a player, until he fell out of love with the game, and chose to coach up and coming players instead. 

You had been wary of getting involved with him, but eventually you couldn’t resist. He turned out to be the perfect boyfriend - caring, sweet, attentive to your every need. He became your partner in both tennis and in life. Truly, you couldn’t want for anything else.

You shouldn’t. 

So why does it feel like there is something missing?

And why is that void one that only Aemond Targaryen can fill?

The gigantic poster propped up in the inner courtyard of the country club lets everyone know that your next qualifying match in the Westeros Open is against none other than Helaena Targaryen. 

Your image looms up to around twenty feet, with Helaena’s lithe figure on the other side. The perfectionist in you can’t help but scrutinise the details in your expression and your form. Was that really what you looked like mid-serve? You laugh dryly, feeling silly at your misdirected concern.

You like Helaena, and she’s always been cordial to you outside of your matches. The issue lies with her more brash and calculating brother and coach. 

Something - or rather someone - shuffles behind you. Close enough that the hairs on the back of your neck stand on attention. 

"I wish I could say that you look good up there, but we did once promise not to lie to each other.”

Think of the devil and he shall appear. You don't have to turn around to know who it is. 

Aemond fucking Targaryen. Once at his prime, known for his freely expressing his passion and rage on the court, earning him the title 'the bad boy of tennis'. It was this drive, this relentlessness, that propelled his game. Unfortunately, it also served to be his downfall. After a few years as the sport's #1 male player, his career came to an end after an off-court altercation with an opponent that took his eye.

Now he is the coach of one of your top rivals and upcoming match opponent, his sister Helaena. 

Which is why it should come as no surprise to you that he has made it his mission to get under your skin, with all his unwarranted flirty remarks, constant staring, and how he tirelessly interacts with everything you post on social media. 

It used to be tame, by his standards anyway, with things like, ‘You need to work on that backhand’ or ‘I’m guessing Donaldson doesn’t train you well enough.’

But then the messages took a different turn. You once posted a picture of you in a fancy, revealing gown when you attended the annual gala, and he responded with, ‘It’s easy to see that all your training has paid off, ace.’

You chocked it all up to playful aggression. He’s just trying to get you to lower your guard, and distract you. You knew better than to look too much into the apparent interest he gives you. 

He is notorious for being a playboy, after all. Dirty blonde hair perfectly tousled, designer tracksuits he wears with such snobbishness, a presence that can command an entire room. You’ve grown to heavily dislike the seemingly permanent smug sneer on his lips, and how he sometimes treats others like they’re nothing but gum stuck on the soles of his fancy tennis shoes.

A handsome rogue who possesses a lot of talent and who is aware of his status as a hot commodity can be dangerous indeed. If he can say that Helaena Targaryen’s best opponent is nothing but another notch on his bedpost, then he will never let that live down. 

More importantly, you are already spoken for. Aemond knows this - not that he cares - but whatever he thinks about your relationship doesn’t matter. 

“Aemond.” You don’t turn to face him, continuing to scrutinise the gigantic poster. “Is that the best you got?”

He shrugs, positioning himself right in your line of sight, clearly demanding more attention. “You don’t just look good. You look good enough to fucking eat, ace. Too bad about the shitty attitude.”

Hot then cold, nice then nasty. Aemond will never change. Rolling your eyes, you say, “I thought I told you not to call me that. Shouldn’t you be somewhere else training your sister? She’s gonna need it.”

He steps closer, invading your space. You look him directly in the eye like you’re squaring up with an opponent. This has always been your dynamic. Neither one backing down, neither one ever really dealing a blow. 

Just constant dizzying electricity. 

Sooner or later, it will all come to a head. Whether it will be your fault or his, the jury is still out on that. 

“Oh, I’m sure she will,” he patronises, his deep blue almost violet eye sparkling. On the opposite was his glass eye, only adding to his intimidating nature. He hadn’t opted for one that resembled his real eye, but rather a hazy white apparatus, making him appear ghoulish, almost ghostlike. Nestled in his left eye socket, framed by a faded maroon gash, it made him look every bit like the charismatic rogue of tennis that he is known to be. “Shouldn’t you be somewhere receiving instruction from Donaldson? Not that you’ll get much out of it.”

“Art and I are on top of our training, not that it’s any of your damn business. You should concern yourself with your sister’s game.” 

“If only that were actually true, ace, but unfortunately I believe that your sweet Art wastes too much of his fucking time being on top of you.”

“Fuck off, Targaryen,” you respond, trying to push the allure of his scent out of your mind. Pungent cologne and cigarette smoke, a blend that you’ve come to associate only with him. “Stay out of my business, and quit messaging me.”

“You like how we talk.”

“Trust me, I don’t.”

“Does Donaldson know?” Fully aware that Art has never had a liking for him, he knows that will hit a nerve. 

Your face falls, like you’ve been caught in the act. Even though you've done nothing wrong. Occasionally caving in and responding to Aemond’s messages surely isn’t crossing the line. What started out as a couple of offhand fuck offs from your end turned into actually sharing private jokes about the other matches and training and - heavens forbid - small talk about the goddamn weather. 

You’ve come to know that his favourite colour is green. Not the neon of a tennis ball, but a bluish-tinted pine. 

Not that it matters. 

Encounters such as this one also don’t mean anything. Never mind however much you find him attractive. Who wouldn’t? You have eyes, and you’re only human. Nothing more to it. 

Never mind how, some nights, in what can only be construed as momentary states of delirium, you have imagined him in Art’s place. 

Never mind just how much he gets under your skin, like no one else can, and how you can’t admit to yourself that you might actually like it.

Oh, you might actually be making yourself sick at all these thoughts. 

“There’s nothing for him to know.” You step to the side, indicating that you want to walk away. But he has you cornered and you both know it. 

He smirks, “Keep telling yourself that, ace. But you can’t deny - ” He steps close again. He suddenly tilts your face toward him with one hand, but you shake your head and his fingers lose their hold. “ - this. Us.”

Damn him. And damn the shiver that just ran up your spine. 

You stand still, entranced by the look he’s giving you. Trick or not, Aemond sure does have a way of looking at you as if he sees you for who you really are. Not the tennis prodigy. Not the public personality. You remain a shell of that broken kid that poured everything she had into this sport, much like he had, only to come out the other end still not whole, still searching for something inexplicably out of reach. And he sees just that - just you.

You feel like Art holds you up on a pedestal, not seeing the flaws that make you who you are. But you’ve always been happy to play the perfect girlfriend. 

Until Aemond. 

But he’s too much. Too forward, too brash, too intoxicating. You can never know what he’s going to do next. You can’t like him. You have to be certain that you don’t.

But then again… love and hate have always been two sides of the same coin.

He whispers, clearly pleased with the effect he has on you, “Match point, ace.”

Match point. You could have him. He could have you. He makes it evident that the next move is all yours. “Don’t go out of bounds, Targaryen,” you warn him lowly. 

“What if I want to?”

You have him. He has you.

And you… have Art. 

Clearing your throat, and your head, you finally step back. His head snaps up to follow you, disappointment evident on his face. 

“See you around, Targaryen.” You spin on your heel, walking away, immediately feeling lighter. Emptier, feeling like your body begs to drift closer to him, two equal magnets. 

“Ace,” he calls to you, walking after you when you don’t turn around. “Wait a second,” he reappears right in front of you, effectively halting your stride.

You grumble hastily, “God, you really have a space issue, don’t you, Aemond?”

“Meet me in the courtyard gardens,” he says, a new intensity lacing his voice, “tonight. After dinner. Or whenever you can. Just - ”

“No.”

“Come on, ace.” His tone is insistent, with no trace of his usual bravado and cockiness. “I think… I need to tell you something.”

Part of you wants to cave in, and just agree to whatever it is that he’s proposing, but that nagging voice in the back of your mind is adamant that it would not be right. What would Art think? But what if Aemond truly just wants to tell you something?

“So tell me now.”

His jaw clenches hard, and you can’t help but admire the taut edges of his face. “No, I want to do this, just you and me. When we’ll be alone - ”

“Aemond - ” you start to shake your head, trying hard to come up with a refusal that he will actually register. 

“Donaldson doesn’t need to know,” he almost pleads. “This is between you and me, ace. You just have to hear me out.”

You take a deep breath, unable to understand just what it is he means. “If it’s something I have to hide from my boyfriend, then it’s not gonna happen. You have to see just how messed up that is, Targaryen.”

Either he can’t hear you, or he just does not want to accept your response. “I’ll wait for you. Right around midnight then, ace? Should give you plenty of time to sneak out.”

Before you can say no, again, he hastily plants a kiss on your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, in surprise and perhaps pleasure at the softness of his lips, and when you open them once more, he is no longer flooding your space. 

You spy him entering a set of glass doors, leaving you there stunned.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Aemond kicks at another pebble, the sound momentarily breaking the silence in the gardens.

He’d checked his watch just seconds before, the face of it spitting on what remains of his eagerness. 

Twelve fucking fifteen. 

Either you just got held up by your whiney rat-faced boyfriend, or you’re a no-show.

Aemond doesn’t know which one is worse. He did not know what he was expecting in the first place. Did he actually think that you would do as he says? You never were good at following orders, much less those from someone whom you likely view as something of a nuisance.

Is that really what you see him as? Isn’t there something more at play here?

Something that keeps Aemond up at night, when he can no longer deny that it is not because he dislikes you that you plague his thoughts, but because he admires you. He does admire you, he sees no shame in admitting that. 

As a tennis player. As a competitor. Anyone who feigns ignorance at your insane potential would just be lying to themselves. 

As a woman? A… partner? No. It has to be no, doesn’t it? You hate him, you make it clear now and again. You disagree with him, challenge his views, point out his flaws. Surely, he can’t be attracted to you in a way that commands his heart. You are beautiful, he doesn’t deny this, but so were the dozens of other girls he had run through. 

Each time he watches you perform your signature backhand stroke, with that sensual growl escaping your lips and the lewd grace with which your body bends, Aemond feels his sanity slipping away.

You drive him crazy, but he can't be crazy about you. 

The only reason he asked you to meet him, is because he wants to propose that he replace Art as your coach. Helaena has expressed that she wants to retire, and focus on some other creative pursuits. Something insignificant to Aemond, that he can’t remember what it was exactly. A pottery business? A fucking flower shop? He doesn’t care to know. 

It’s perfect, he thinks, because your game is superior anyway. It’s what first got his attention, and now he can take part in your process. He can direct you, shape you. He can do so much better than Art Donaldson, and he’s sure you know this too. 

Maybe then you might actually open up to him the way you opened up to Art. With your absence tonight, it dawns on him that he might actually have to resort to other measures. Did he seriously think he would be able to simply reason with you about this? 

He sits for another half-hour on a bench nestled among the rose bushes. Surrounded by flowers of deep scarlet, a maroon he distinctly remembers as being your favourite colour. He fools himself into believing that he’s using the time to craft a plan for what’s to come, and not that he’s wasting it on the hope that you might emerge from the tall hedges, out of breath and eyes glinting eager to find him. 

Well, you played your hand. Now he knows what he has to do.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You wake up groggy the following morning, having tossed and turned the entire night, thinking about Aemond.

Had he been out there, waiting for you? Your mind came up with the different possibilities of what he has to say. Or if he had nothing to say at all, and it was all just another ruse. 

You told yourself that you didn’t want to meet up with him, but you had an alibi prepared. One of your old tennis club mates agreed to cover for you and say that you were having drinks together, just in case Art ever checks up. 

But as you were about to deliver the excuse, Art had said something about you and him not getting to spend as much quality time anymore. The past few weeks have been occupied with nothing but tennis, and though it’s a shared activity that you both value, he wanted to stay in for the night with you. He ordered room service, downloaded two films that were on your watchlist, and whispered sweet nothings in your ear until you eventually gave up on meeting Aemond. 

It can wait, whatever it is. 

Besides, isn’t this the right thing to do? Did you seriously consider having a midnight rendezvous with the guy who you claim to dislike the most? Someone who encourages you to keep secrets from your boyfriend? What good could possibly come out of that?

With a heaving sigh, you push all thoughts of last night from your mind. There are bigger things at hand. The biggest tennis tournament of the year, for one. 

You make your way to the dining hall of your hotel. Art had woken up before you, pressing a loving kiss to your cheek and explaining how he had to discuss some matters with your physical team. He wore the skin of a tennis coach as perfectly as that of a boyfriend. 

And here you are, regretting that you were unable to meet up with another man the previous night.

The art deco layout of the lobby extends into the spacious dining hall, the interior of the hotel filled with geometric patterns and rich jewel tones. You once bid Aemond guess what your favourite interior design was, and he got it in two tries, complete with a spiel of how it reflects your personality. Art, on the other hand, had been adamant that your favourite was minimalist. That was the first time you realised that his perspective of you was different from Aemond’s. 

You hadn’t yet reconciled with who is more accurate, lest it shine a light on something deeper. 

The hostess is cheerful and full of pep as she leads you to your table. You know it’s coming - she’ll ask you for a picture in just a moment, and you’re proven right when she reaches in her pocket and her phone materialises inch by inch. She seems shy to ask, ready to turn on her heel with a stiff smile if you refuse, so you do your best to be encouraging.

When the photo is taken and she finally lowers her phone, you spy someone out in the distance and you make it out to be none other than your boyfriend. Leaning by the outdoor terrace, appearing to be speaking to another person you can’t yet make out, their face obscured by the decorative shrubbery scattered across the area. 

You walk to the side to get a better view of who it is. That tall figure, clad in a black tracksuit… a familiar head of blonde hair… and the unmistakable cut of his jawline. Realisation sets in. Art is speaking to Aemond. 

Your stomach sinks, the thought of breakfast no longer enticing. Frozen in the middle of the dining hall, you begin to attract the attention of others. 

Aemond turns his head, perfectly timed for his gaze to meet yours. Like something out of a grim movie, your anxiety spikes as his smug smirk materialises in slow motion. 

If there ever were a match at hand between you two, that smirk makes it clear that he has won it. 

Art follows his gaze, also meeting yours, but without any trace of satisfaction. He looks at you accusingly. You shake your head at him, but you already know. 

This is not going to end well. 

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“Is it true?”

You had wordlessly followed Art back to your hotel suite, the air around you thick with dread and anticipation.

“What did Aemond say?” You stand in front of him as he calmly sits by the window, as if you’re on the trial stand. You just might be.

“Guess,” Art spits mockingly. “Why don’t you tell me? You seem to know him quite well.” You bristle at his tone. He’s never spoken to you like this before. 

“Whatever he told you, it’s not what it looks like, okay? You know Aemond. He likes to mess around with people, especially us.”

Art shakes his head in disbelief, “He even showed me some of your messages. Some of them you must have sent - what, at 3 or 4 in the fucking morning? When you’re lying next to me in bed? Not getting a lot of sleep apparently. It must be why you’re not on top of your game.”

He’s not playing fair, and you deserve this. 

“There’s nothing going on between us,” you say through gritted teeth, making the statement sound as firm as possible, because it’s not just Art you’re attempting to convince. You want to believe it too. 

“He’s said some things about me.”

“And I defended you.”

“Not well enough,” he shakes his head. “It sounded almost normal for you. Spewing bullshit to each other.”

“It’s just… it’s all just banter.” God, you sound so terrible. “Riling each other up to get into the mindset before matches.”

“All that… all that, I can kind of understand. It’s the other things. The intimate things that get on my nerves.”

“What - ” You can’t form the proper response to that. 

“I missed talking to you, he once said. To which you replied that you do too.”

“That’s nothing.”

“You said that he inspired you.”

“That’s… that… he’s a great talent,” you stammer, as the statements he throws worsen. “He always has been. Even you can’t deny that.”

The argument goes on for an uncomfortable length of time, with Art reminding you of things that you and Aemond had apparently messaged each other, and you trying to play them off as insignificant. 

Gradually, you convince Art that Aemond is just a thorn in your side. That Aemond was just overplaying the messages to get under his skin. That letting this break your relationship would be giving Aemond what he wants. 

But everything he said - the messages he brought back to the surface, the encounters that were brought up - made you realise the depth of your involvement with Aemond. 

You are fooling yourself, just as much as you are fooling Art.

He finally stands, heading towards the door. “I’ve spoken to our physical team. Meet us at the gym in 15.”

“Art.”

He halts, but he doesn’t turn to face you. You’re worried about what you’ll see in his face if he does.

“Are we okay?” you ask.

He turns to the side, and you catch a glimpse of the man you love, his once blithe demeanour reduced to a brief, forced smile. He nods once, and you sag in relief. When he is finally out the door, you collapse onto the bed and press your knuckles to your eyes. 

You feel it all at once. 

Anger. Frustration. That fear of inevitability coming to fruition. This was bound to happen and a part of you knew it was coming.

Aemond screwed you over, and it’s high time you put an end to everything.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The gardens. Midnight. 

The message had been sent. The last one you will ever send to Aemond Targaryen if things go as planned. 

You have it rehearsed and perfected in your mind - how you will give him a piece of your mind, how you will tell him off and tell him to fuck off for good. 

As long as you think of Art…  As long as you don’t lose yourself, then…

“You’re lucky I’m not standing you up, Ace. Not like what you did to me.” The bastard has appeared directly behind you, as per his custom, so close you can feel his breath on the nape of your neck. 

You immediately turn to face him, and he stands calmly in his signature black tracksuit, his lips curled in their usual manner. “I never agreed to meet you that night.”

His smile is derisive, the sight of it sharp and cruel under the moonlight. “I thought we had sort of a code of honour, you and I. That we’d never lie to each other. Never let the other person down.”

“Honour?” you say mockingly. “I call bullshit. Trying to ruin my relationship… is that part of it?”

He looks away, shaking his head at your accusation. “I only did what you don’t have the fucking guts to do. Your relationship with Donaldson was ruined the moment we…” He trails off, brows furrowing. His gaze meets yours, revealing the truth that sits underneath his mask of arrogance. One that only you are allowed to see. He appears to take on a different smile this time, softer and less pronounced. The curses you want to hurl get caught in your throat when he looks to your lips and hums faintly to himself, almost as if he’s forgotten that you are in the middle of an argument. 

You take a step back, and it shakes him out of his reverie. It shakes the both of you out of it. 

“Well? Let’s fucking hear it then.” You raise your arms in a gesture, egging him on. 

“Hear what?” he says, having the gall to be confused.

“What did you want to tell me that night? Tell me now, because you’ll never get the chance again.”

He straightens, getting his thoughts in order. He completely forgot about that issue, and talking is increasingly becoming the last thing he wants to do right now. He wants to put his lips to better use. Something more worthwhile. “Helaena’s retiring,” he finally decides on saying, “and I think I should be your coach.”

You’re dumbfounded for a moment, his proposition whirring in your head. It makes sense, it does. He just gets you. But then again… 

“That’s rich,” you reply. “Do you think I would ever give up Art? He’s always been my coach and he’s damn good at it.”

“You’re not compatible,” he counters, “in the court and out of it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“He doesn’t see you,” he affirms. He would never lie to you, and he isn’t about to start now. He repeats, “He doesn’t see you, but I do.”

His words strike true, and it feels as if he’s just pulled the rug from underneath you, and you’re falling, falling… 

Right into his arms. And the impact is jarring, because it’s real. 

“We can’t.” It comes out as a hoarse whisper, a reflection of your weakening restraint.

“Yes we can, ace.” He takes a step closer, and he lifts his hand as if on instinct, reaching for your face. But he’s frozen, unsure of how far he can toe the line that already lies fragile between you. “It should be you and me.”

Your eyes follow his movements, because you know you want him to give in and hold you. To touch your face. To kiss you.

And it’s wrong. It’s all wrong. 

“I have to go.” Your voice carries no emotion. You avert your gaze at the last second and catch the defeat that flashes across his face. It should come as a surprise that it pains you to see him like this, but then again, you see him as he sees you. You always have. Which renders your next words among the most painful to come out of your mouth. “We can’t do this anymore. Art already doesn’t trust me, and if this goes on, it’s only going to make things worse. I can’t talk to you - ” 

“No.” 

“- and I won’t be responding to anything- ”

“Stop fucking talking.” His anger is fledgling, rising to the surface. There is no way he will calmly accept these terms. “I said no, ace.”

“It’s… it’s the right thing to do,” you murmur, still unable to look at him. “I’m sure I’ll see you around. We run in the same circles. But we can’t be… us.”

“Forget it,” he seethes, trying to catch your eyes, and growling low when you don’t relent. “Forget him, ace. Or do whatever the fuck you want. But not this, I’m not having this.”

You exhale, having gotten the worst of it out of your chest. It’s over now. But it’s not a relief that you feel. It’s remorse. 

“Goodbye, Aemond.” With that, you finally take him in once more, and one glance is enough to shatter your resolve. His heightened ill temper shines clearly across his distinguished features. Under the midnight moon, he resembles a fallen angel, long dark blonde lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. His shadowy, glass eye strangely adding to the appeal. 

Beautiful. And just not yours. 

One last, lingering look - then you walk away. The silence is deafening, and you feel numb all over. Your knuckles are taut at your sides, fingernails digging in your palms to keep those pesky, errant tears at bay. You’ve suffered defeat before, but this is much worse, because it’s coming solely from your own hand. How easily you give him up, someone who was never yours, and how badly it stings. 

“No,” you hear him say again, and you pray he shuts up so you can keep walking. 

He doesn’t. He repeats the word - no - over and over like some mantra under his breath. One second you feel nothing. Nothing at all. But then the wind whooshes around you and you’re being spun around to face him. 

And then, his lips claim yours, and you feel everything. 

Sounds come rushing back to you. His ragged panting against your lips, the pads of his fingertips kneading the back of your head, the wet smacking of his mouth on your own. The empty pit in your stomach is filled with those clichéd butterflies. More so when one of his hands travels down to grasp your waist and press your body against his. 

“Aem - ” Your mind catches up to you, and you try to say his name to get him to pause, but he slides his tongue past your teeth. 

“Shut up and kiss me, ace.” He breaks free for but a second, then hungrily kisses you again. You let him. You give in completely.

“Mmm, Aemond.” Your hands reach up to cradle his face and he takes that as an opportunity to pull back and openly admire you.

“You’re my ace,” he professes, connecting his forehead to yours. “And I’m not fucking losing you.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You rush through the lobby of the hotel, hand in hand and giggling like schoolchildren as you duck your heads so as not to get recognised by the night concierge. 

With reckless abandon, your entwined bodies stumble into his suite, which just happens to be on the floor below yours. You once thought you would have to be inebriated beyond belief to surrender to a sin like this, and in a way you are. You’re high off of him - Aemond in his entirety, six feet of lean muscle, notorious foul-mouthed one-eyed libertine. 

“Fuck, ace.” He has his arms wrapped around you from behind, and he nips at your exposed neck. His touch roams and finds the mounds of your breasts, kneading mindlessly over your shirt. The sound that reverberates from his throat is carnal, and you feel it echo through your whole body. It drives you to press your ass against him, taking full notice of his hardness straining from his sweatpants. 

Feeling mischievous, you do it again, gripping his arms to anchor yourself while grinding against his cock. 

“Foul play,” he whispers against your neck, “you fucking minx.”

“There are no rules now.” You face him, running a finger along his jawline as you walk backward and he follows suit. Stopping at the edge of his bed, you strip out of your shirt, careful to keep your eyes locked on his the whole time. 

The movement is too slow for Aemond, and he desperately needs more. He pushes you onto the mattress and climbs on top of you. He slides your sweatpants off your legs, then lets his hand drag from your ankle to your inner thigh. He promptly undresses, graceless and in a rush, until all his clothes are left in a heap on the carpet. 

His cock stands on attention, taut and goddamn long. You feel an ache below that compels you to rub your legs together, but he beats you to it and slides your underwear right off. “I’ve always wanted to taste you,” he croons. “Bet you taste so sweet.”

You take your bra off and you’re finally left completely bare. He spreads your legs and positions himself in between. He uses one hand to squeeze your breast and the other to keep your legs propped wide open. 

His eye meets yours, before he settles in, lowering his head until he’s breathing cool air onto your pussy. “Match point, ace.” 

You have him. He has you. 

When Aemond’s tongue plunges deep into your throbbing core, swirling inside like he wants to consume you whole, you have to bite your tongue to hold back a scream.

He knows what he’s doing, of course he does, and he’s so fucking good.

“Yes - yes - keep going, baby, fuck -  ” you moan, words breathy and irregular. 

He sticks two fingers into your wetness, using it to spread you wider, leveraging his tongue ever deeper. In and out they go, faster than the fuck, fuck, fucks coming out of your mouth in blissful sputters. 

He suddenly stops, a guttural hmm echoing from his lips, and you look down to see his lips coated in a mixture of his spit and your pre cum. “Not so fast, ace,” he taunts. “You’ll come when I say.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, still widespread and exposed to him. “What, are you coaching me through it?” 

He hums in affirmative and leans in to kiss you, juices still dripping from his chin. 

“You gonna follow my orders, ace?” he asks, and your mind spirals at how utterly lewd it sounds. 

“Wouldn’t you like that, Targaryen?” You let out another moan, biting your lip when he hungrily sucks on your breast. “Let’s see what you got first.”

He smiles at your playful instigation. It’s always come natural, this riffing back and forth. But this midnight dalliance - he wants it to be honest. He needs you to realise how much he wants you. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He gets on his knees, a hand braced on each of your thighs, his hardened cock at the ready. 

“Ma’am?” you breathe, a laugh dying in your throat when you his tip prods at your entrance.

“I can be agreeable under the right circumstances, ace.” He torments you by pushing his cock in but an inch. 

“Fuck me, Aemond,” you cuss in frustration, then, literally, “Fuck me. Please.”

His eyes take you in, one darkened blue and one ghostly pale glass. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” he says. “You good for it, ace?” He nods once, referring to whether a condom is needed and you take the hint right away.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Perks of having a top-of-the-line physio team. They hook you up on other things too.” Your cocky-athlete way of stating that you are on the pill. 

The lights are dim in the room, but you clearly see the resolve settle on Aemond’s face. He parts his lips like he wants to say something more, and you tilt your head questioningly. 

He feels the need to make some sort of declaration. Something true. It doesn’t seem right to say those damned three words at this moment, no matter how much he means them. You could think he’s trying to trick you in order to get what he wants. A good lay and nothing else. So he doesn’t say anything and lets the silence speak for itself. If you know him as you claim to, then you’ll see. 

You’ll see just how much this means to him.

You nod, and it’s an unspoken plea. 

He thrusts his cock into you with such force, stretching your walls with a sudden and blinding ache, until he is buried to the hilt. He reaches and cradles your face with one hand, the other keeping your ankle propped by his shoulder. 

“Move, Aem.” You buck your hips against him, his cock squelching in and out again.

“Yeah, baby?” He complies with his hips in response. “That feel good?”

“Yes. God yes.”

A switch flicks inside of him, and he almost snarls through his teeth. “You feel so fucking good, ace. Your pussy takin’ me so well…” His hips buck faster, in abrupt snapping motions, burying his cock each damn time. He connects your legs together and turns you to your side, altering the position slightly. 

You look behind your shoulder and see that feral look etched on his face. His grip is tight on the flesh of your hips and the curve of your ass, having it raised slightly for his convenience. He smacks your behind with an open palm, and it elicits a lusty moan out of you. 

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps. “So beautiful like this, dripping around my fucking cock, huh? My good girl.”

The noises you release as a result are unintelligible. You press your face against the pillow in sheer pleasure, muffling your sounds. 

“I wanna hear you, baby,” Aemond protests. With practised ease, he repositions you so your ass is propped high before him, your body bent forward as you have to lean on your forearms to keep from planting your face on the sheets. 

He doesn’t ease up on his relentless thrusting, and you’re left squirming and cock-drunk. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head, you’re blissed-out on what only Aemond can give you.

“Does he fuck you as good?” he spits in obvious distaste. “I don’t think so, baby. Can’t fuck this pussy like I do.” 

“N-no,” you whimper, without any trace of guilt. “Only you, Aem.”

“Hmm,” he simpers. “Come for me, ace. Be a good girl now. Come around my cock, yeah?”

“Mhhmm,” you pant, growing weaker and weaker at his statements, your walls tensing for that release you crave.

“You’re mine, ace. Mine.”

Your whimper comes out sudden and unrestrained as you let go, and feel your warm juices leaking down your thighs. The sounds of his cock growing noisy and sloppier. He releases not long after, with a few sharp spasms, decorating your insides with his cum. 

Marking someone who is not supposed to be his. 

But nothing else matters as he crumples against you and pulls you into his arms. If something is to be reconciled with, it won’t be for tonight.

With these things, regret always comes along with the sunrise.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“40 - 30.”

The crowd cheers at the umpire’s announcement. You can barely make out the faces morphing together into one homogeneous mob, but you’ve observed enough to know that Aemond isn’t among them. Rivulets of sweat drip down your face and you walk to the side as another break starts. 

Helaena nods at you from the opposite side of the court, and you respond with a terse smile.

She resembles him so much - the one you’ve been avoiding for the past three days. With that same distinct shade of blonde hair and deep blue eyes, but possessing an aura of tenderness about her. If Aemond wasn’t lying about her plan to retire, then it makes perfect sense. She seems too good for the sport, too pure, whereas you fit right into its cruel constraints.

What sort of person would have done what you did, some nights ago, and be able to walk with their head held high? You want to believe that you regret sleeping with Aemond, that you would reverse your actions, given the chance. But the pain that eats at you is that you might have fucked things up for good, abruptly leaving before he woke up that morning. 

It’s ironic - you may just get what you said you wanted. To end things. Never to be the same with him again. 

You slump in your seat, wiping at your face with a towel, pushing all thought of Aemond from your mind. 

From your periphery, you catch Helaena gesturing to you. She smiles, and you think that your emotions must show so clearly on your face that she feels bad for you. 

She nods, and tilts her head to the side, so that you follow her gaze. Standing courtside, partially hidden in the corner just behind the barriers, you see Aemond closely watching you. 

He came after all. You turn back to Helaena, unable to hide your surprise, and she sends another smile your way. She knows. Of course she does. 

With renewed excitement, the match continues. It only takes one more point, one final ace, and you emerge triumphant. The court fills with cheers and sounds of celebration. It is declared that you are advancing to the next round of the tournament. You meet Helaena in the middle and she firmly shakes your hand, exhibiting no sign of disappointment. 

“Congratulations! Very well played.” She drops her racket and grasps your hand with both of hers. She leans closer, and adds, “You know, I also consider it a win for myself, because my last ever match is against the girl my brother is in love with.”

You forget where you are, the revelation rendering everything else moot. The cheering crowds disappear, and it’s just you and Helaena as she dips her head comfortingly, assuring you that you heard her words true.

“I’m sure I’ll see you soon,” she lets go finally, with a cheerful, “go celebrate!”

You feel yourself being whisked away, cameras flashing from all sides. Art appears in front of you and he pulls you into an embrace. Several onlookers gush at the sight. You barely take notice of them, your eyes already drifting to where Aemond was standing. 

There he remains, casually leaning against the barriers. Some audience members realise that the great Aemond Targaryen stands among them, and one by one a small crowd forms around him, asking for pictures and autographs.

He continues to hold your gaze, his usual smirk making an appearance, ignoring a guy waving a camera at his face. You shake your head at the scene, a genuine laugh bubbling from your lips.

You nod to each other, as if acknowledging the absurdity of it all, and leave it at that. There’s a lot more to be said, for another time. Art wraps his arm around your waist, and Aemond takes it as his cue to look away, relenting to the eager fans surrounding him.

You direct your gaze to your boyfriend, immediately seeing the recognition in Art’s eyes. He’s seen everything. 

He doesn’t need to be as acutely perceptive as Helaena to realise the truth. That of the one-eyed rogue and his ace. You’ve been drifting from him for so long, that it was only a matter of time. 

He was your friend first, and he always will be. You’ve watched each other grow, through endless mistakes and challenges, and there’s a fire in you he cannot match. 

But Aemond can. He knows this now. 

He extends a hand out to you, one which you accept with poorly masked caution. He understands how woeful it must be, to tear yourself apart from being in love with someone else. The shame and uncertainty that must entail. 

For both your sakes, he decides that he has to be the bigger person and do the right thing. 

“What do you say?” Art offers to you. “Post match treat?” he asks, referring to your tradition of sharing a large strawberry sundae after games. 

“Okay.” Your smile is sweet and unguarded, and it reminds him of when you first met, nearly six years ago. That day, he knew he had made a lifelong friend. 

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“I wish I could say I’m happy to see you here, but we did once promise not to lie to each other.”

Aemond swivels toward the sound of your voice, cigarette smoke billowing from his lips. 

“Vile habit, Targaryen.” You wrinkle your nose, and he just shakes his head and crushes the butt of his cigarette under his shoe.

“Yeah, well.” He merely shrugs. He was dead set on quitting, but something came up the past couple of days, causing his anxiety to reach new heights. When you ignored him after the night you shared, he can’t fault himself for reaching for depraved solace in nicotine. But no substance would ever be enough to erase the precious memory of watching you come undone. 

“Not happy to see me, ace?” he refers back to your greeting, not bothering to hide the hurt he feels. 

You walk closer to him, trying to hold back a smile. “Well, I lied. But it’s not like I haven’t lied before.” You stop when you’re right in front of him, the remnants of his smoke making you feel woozy. “I also lied when I said that we can’t keep being us anymore. When I said goodbye.”

“Hmm,” his lips curl at your confession. “Judging by how wildly you fucked me after you said that, I could already tell.”

You roll your eyes, but you already feel so much better, like things are falling right back into place. All it took was some teasing from the apparently callous, sharp-tongued, ambitious-to-a-fault boy standing before you. 

A boy who revealed the true depths of his compassion only to you. He let you thaw out his cold heart from its confines and declared it yours. 

“Something more to say, ace?” he asks.

“You first.”

“Are you kidding? Why don’t you play this game with your boyfriend?”

You share a lingering look, effectively answering his question. The unabashed shit-eating smile that breaks out on his face is enough to tell you just how he feels. 

“Don’t gloat,” you warn him, but he’s already pulled you flush against him with both arms. “I also need a new coach.”

“Mhmm,” he nods, not really in response to your statement. “Save that for later, ace. Please shut the hell up and kiss me.”

He can’t help but smile through kisses, his lips chasing yours when you make an effort to pull away and say something more. 

“Aemond, will you - ”

“Fuckin’ - ” a cuss slips from him when you manage to break apart, depriving him of your lips. He answers impatiently, “Yes of course, I’ll be your coach, ace. Of course. Happy? I’ll be anything you want me to be.”

Before he leans in once more, you say, “Don’t you dare fuck this up, Targaryen.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, my love.”

You lean back in mild surprise.

He laughs, “I mean - ace - or my love. Either one applies, really.”

"I... I prefer ace," you say weakly.

"Now, now, my love. I thought we promised not to lie to each other?"

taglist (all who commented on this post - surprise double feature incoming!) : @odeioemail @sapphossongbird @toodlesxcuddles @sinistersnakey9419 @fan-goddess @jhroseok @diannnsss @dixie-elocin @tostadasdetinga @1-800shootmeplease @goldyfishsstuff @pineappleicelostmary @raging-panda

Should you wish to be added to the Aemond (or Daemon) taglist, please comment on this post!

[amirasainz]

can you do a carmen x george x amira pls

Heyy.... so I know I#ve been absent for some time now, but I just have a lot of work and studying to do, so I'm not able to post as frequent as I used to. However I will try my best to write all of you're requests.

I this story Lando is painted like the bad guy, vut please be aware that this is NO HATE TOWARDS LANDO. It's just a story, so please read it as such.

Enjoy reading and let me know if you have some requests!

-XoXo

No Part 2!!!

You're enough

“George…” whispered Amira, her hand gently stroking his back. The man in her arms let out a shuddering breath, prompting the girls on either side of him to hug him tighter. His face was buried in his hands, his posture slumped in his seat. Carmen and Amira shared a look behind George’s back, both feeling lost and helpless.

Just a few minutes ago, they had received the devastating notification that George had been disqualified from the Belgium GP, meaning he lost his hard-earned win. After working tirelessly and executing a brilliant race strategy, it all meant nothing in the end.

At first, George put on a brave face. He received a call from Toto, who was the one to inform his driver about the misfortune. Then came the messages from the other drivers, all of them sending their support and well wishes to him. Through all of this, George maintained a neutral mask. What finally broke his facade were the concerned faces of the two beautiful girls in his driver’s room.

“It’s just—it’s such a stupid reason,” started the Briton, his voice trembling with frustration. “We are talking about 1.5 kg. Freaking 1.5 kg ruined my freaking race. And all thanks to stupid McLaren, just because Lando had a bad weekend and the team didn’t get enough points.” From one second to the next, George’s anger towards his DNS transformed into anger against Lando.

“We all know that Zak is kissing the ground that Lando walks on. Since his first win, he became insufferable. He acts like a god and expects us to pray to him. Worst of all, he compares himself to champions like Senna and Hamilton. Even freaking Schumacher. Not only did he ruin Oscar’s first win, but he also treated us like crap since Miami.” George stood up from his seat, pacing up and down in his room. Carmen and Amira let him continue with his frustrated rant, both of them knowing it would do the Mercedes driver some good.

“He started treating the rest of us horribly. He told Logan that it was only a matter of time before the world forgot his name. To Carlos, he said that Carlos wasn’t even good enough to be the Safety Car driver. He looked me straight in the face and said I only won in Austria thanks to him. And everything he did the past few weeks was crying and whining in front of the cameras.”

While George caught his breath, Amira felt conflicted. On one hand, Lando was her friend and didn’t deserve all of George’s anger after McLaren called for an investigation. On the other hand, George wasn’t wrong. After Miami, Lando really started behaving like a grade-A asshole. Not only to the drivers and other workers but also to her. But that was a problem for another day. All she could think about now was comforting the man in front of her.

Without another thought, Amira stood up and hugged George. Feeling overwhelmed by the disappointment of today’s race, George broke down in tears. Carmen immediately jumped up from the bed, both women hugging the man close to them.

After a few moments, Carmen suggested in a calm voice that the three of them should get on the bed. After situating themselves (George lying on his back with both girls lying on his chest, holding hands), George calmed down. “No matter what, we’ll always be proud of you, George,” whispered Amira. “She is right, amor, it’s us three against the world,” confirmed Carmen. George only hugged the women closer to himself, his heart already feeling lighter. The thought of the three of them together warmed his chest, putting his mind at ease.

As they lay there, the room fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional sniffle from George. Carmen and Amira exchanged a glance, silently agreeing to stay with him as long as he needed. They knew that this moment, though painful, was a testament to their bond. They were more than just friends; they were a family, united by their shared experiences and unwavering support for one another.

Eventually, George’s breathing steadied, and he began to relax. The weight of the day’s events still lingered, but the presence of Carmen and Amira made it bearable. He knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, he wouldn’t have to face them alone. With a deep sigh, he closed his eyes, allowing himself to find solace in the warmth and comfort of his friends’ embrace.

As the minutes passed, the trio remained entwined, drawing strength from each other. Carmen softly hummed a lullaby, her voice soothing and gentle, while Amira ran her fingers through George’s hair, offering silent reassurance. The room, once filled with tension and despair, now felt like a sanctuary of peace and solidarity.

George’s mind drifted back to the race, replaying the moments of triumph and the crushing blow of disqualification. Yet, with each passing second, the sting of disappointment lessened. He realized that victories and defeats were fleeting, but the bonds he shared with Carmen and Amira were enduring. They were his anchor, his source of strength, and his reason to keep pushing forward.

“Thank you,” George murmured, his voice barely audible. “Thank you for being here with me.”

Carmen kissed his forehead, her eyes filled with warmth. “Always, George. We’re always here for you.”

Amira nodded, her smile tender. “No matter what happens, we’ll face it together.”

With those words, George felt a renewed sense of hope. The road ahead might be challenging, but with Carmen and Amira by his side, he knew he could overcome anything. As he drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the people who loved him most, he felt a profound sense of gratitude and peace.

[slytherheign]

no fucking way, man. i’m so fucking pissed off. NO ONE TALK TO ME. I AM SO MAD. lewis fought SO HARD for that P2. he was pushing himself and his car and gave us a show on the last few laps when he was trying to take that P1 away from max. charles was pole, got messed up by his own team, and then continued to fight to get P6. we don’t have many races left and lewis’ 18 points were crucial to chasing checo for the 2nd place in the driver standings. charles’ P6 was a hard earned one since ferrari’s strategy did not favor him at all. they do NOT deserve this. P.S. i know things like this one happen in this sport sometimes, i’m just sooo pissed right now having woken up to this news. after lewis’ dnf at qatar, i was elated when he got P2 at this race because he showed everyone that he’s still a fighter. meanwhile, charles drove his absolute best despite his own team’s strategy messing him up. the fact that all their efforts in those 56 laps were thrown to the bin makes me so annoyed. a dns would be much more favorable at this point.

BREAKING: Hamilton and Leclerc DISQUALIFIED in Texas for excessive wear to the underside of the car

[coddda]

hi! decided I wanted to give the dn musical a watch after seeing your posts and since you seem like a connoisseur, could you recommend the best version and maybe drop a link if you know where to watch? thank youu 🙏🙏

I just want to let you know that I feel so honored to be called a dn musical conoisseur I am honored that my mad ramblings have earned me this title LOL

I don't know if there is a definitive "best" version, but the version that I watched (and the version that I used for my last post) was the 2017 Jp version with Kenji Urai. I mostly watched that one because Kenji Urai's performance was the one I saw referred to most often in clips/screenshots, but I also personally ended up loving his acting, especially when it came to showing Light's unhinged sides in certain scenes :) (I'm sorry Hayato fans unfortunately I haven't gotten around to watching his performances yet, though I may at some point)

There is an upload of the 2017 Kenji version on vimeo, which is where I watched it. It's hardsubbed and it's probably going to be one of the first results when you look up "Death Note musical 2017" so it's pretty easy to find! Unfortunately the video quality isn't super high, but that's kinda the price you have to pay, haha (if anyone does know of a higher quality upload though, do let me know!)

Welcome to the dn musical club soldier 🫡🫡🫡

[craetor]

Another Death Note book, another Tumblr post of overanalyzing details within it

This is a literal reformatted Twitter thread that was collected as the book was read, so, in theory, one could just flip through the book & find the things addressed all in order. Enjoy my needlessly high IQ going to town on this damn legendary expansion pack AU spin-off novel...

This obviously contains spoilers to L Change The World

.

"I'm no good with girls" - L Lawliet, like 2004? (He probably had a real good time having Misa around)

L calls the kids of Wammy's House "letters" (*tries not to explode*)

It's verified that the orphans are entrusted with solving cases as grave as murders to prove & train themselves

Beyond Birthday is mentioned to crack his neck in LABB, which is oddly enough also a habit of Ryuk's. Shinigami urges, especially those of the rather unhinged kind

Suruga heard that L never even showed his face to Misora, meaning she kept quiet about their encounter to everyone until her very death. Which is pretty nice.

Tbh Beyond wasn't too far off about mocking L's behavior. He does tend to crawl when he's being frantic & is also a messy eater (from getting food on himself when not provided with utensils (even when he is...), to consuming excessive amounts of sweet toppings)

There's too many "god"s in DN names... ('Kagami' can be translated to 'nurse god' which is so stupid & uncreative /affectionately)

"L's back grew rounder as he sat on the sofa with his knees tucked tightly against his chest. [...] He seemed to be burdened by the weight of something very heavy that she could not see". L's slouch gets lower after Watari dies under his surveillance. Nothing new, just fantastic symbolism that I love about him.

Also how actually well L suppresses his emotions while working on cases is really outlined in this book. It gets to a point where he seems apathetic, as people who've seemingly gone through trauma reunite over tears in front of him, while minutes beforehand, he's exuded real sadness over Watari's passing. (this is not inherently negative or positive)

His reputation with the FBI really sticks to him like a tick, yet it's suppressing his humanity that gets L to do what's needed & initiate measures necessary (which earned him the ill-willed reputation of kinky bizarre murder-loving detective. Whereby I still can't quite locate the origin of the "murder-loving" part..)

"Nobody would think anything important to be in a bag of potato chips, don't you think?" Honey, first of all, how did you fit an entire notebook into a bag of potato chips without it looking like it's your 1 pound hershey's chocolate stash... Oh, and L has a pattern of emulating tricks that people have used to try and fool him

It seems that L wasn't lying when he said that he's a fan of Misa's work, though idrk what to make of that... Not everything in the half-canon is canon, kids. M went a bit too hard on that 'L is weird & creepy' at times. Until it's not even goofy and ridiculous anymore, I'm just.. concerned?

L seems fulfilled and glad when he's stressed about saving the world. Nothing like a superiority complex, just very INTJ.

L will know to evaluate people so much as to accept food from the ones trying to deceive him, if he knows they're pacifists. Having them vacuum his room & stuff, letting them think they're earning his trust. A side of him we haven't seen thus far, just thought it to be important to share.

Watari, now officially L's mentor and father figure (we knew this but i love it)

The fact that L prones to share sweets with anyone compatible to himself or whoever he wants to tempt is not just a quirky gesture of respect, but actually seems to write out, more than anything, 'let's put us on the same level here. Have this thing that indicates gross luxury within societal hierarchy while also being the thing that keeps me going on an everyday-basis'

Fem-disguise flirty L. He's enjoying the vibe & living vicariously. That's it that's the jot

And then there's page 151. And i wonder, am I needed here at all?

The "L-organization" Blue Ship made up is comically the truest hypothesis that has existed as a theory about L. After all, Wammy's House is the founding ground of 26 Ls each generation to come

Watari seems to be involved with the Wammy's kids more than initially thought. But this could also be Kujo's illusion, as having any contact with the one closest to L at all would be a big deal and in her mind more prominently

And finally, the relationship that was created between L & Light is closer to love and worship than friendship. Even best friends. L's reliance on the thought of Light even exists as comfort in heavily emotionally distressing situations. Your definitely romantically touched soulmate-other-half-comfort-human can be your best friend too is what I'm trying to say. Like, you don't have to choose. Just add it to the list.

Verdict: I assume the main point of the book is literally to clear up misunderstandings about L, hence information about him is being blatantly pointed out and aggressively reinforced around every corner. But I'm here anyways because page 151 exists for me and me only (and everybody else who's done their thing correctly before having read this thing) as a pat on the back and a hearty 'good job'. It was fun to have found a couple more hidden details along the way too though. L called Light his 'best friend' like he called Misora 'some guy in the US who told me about capoeira'

[eleonoraw]

Wammi's house! You have a WIP that is Lawlight at Wammy's house? Yesssss. Pls share ♥?

Hi anon! Thanks for your ask :)

This one is really funny (in a way, I guess??)

So....

L is a cultivated genius (first from many, everyone after him will be next L) orphan, raised by Quillsh Wammi (Watari made house for the orphans, kids from arround the world) in England, trains them to be geniuses and to work in warious spheres arround the world and some of them trying to make L's successors.

He trained L to be emotionless, calculating, logical. He teached L to hold his sexual urges on the leash, only alowing him to get sexual pleasure from paying him for sex with women (without atachement, without emotions. All women are just proffesional and paid no to attach themselves to L, lol). Watari picks them himself, and it "seems" that L doesn't mind it. He is used to it. In a way, because he doesn't know for anything different. Watari tried to "censor" all the romantic stuff (so L don't get idea about the romance and love and stuff…) so no romance novels in Wammis house. Watari blocked most of the romantic - love sites, but he knew he couldn't block it all, so he teached that love and romance is for 'losers'. He showed and explained to kids what is it - that it was nothing good (cruel I know, but Watari is his own case).

L will at the end meet Light (he wont be aware that he is actually bisexual, because he never thought about it. He felt attraction towards men too, but never mentioned that to anyone).

B gets attracted to L, but L rejects him, because they are banned of having any kind of relationship in the Wammis house and L decided not to act on feelings (he was also attracted to B a bit, but decided not to show it. He was busy with the cases and he cared only about them).

B gets frustrated and decides to run away from the house and then he becomes criminal to survive on his own (therefore, because he is able to see people's names, he decides to use that talent to his advantage and earn money).

_

L and B are not the only ones who gets to feel something more (something that they shouldn't feel) Mello and Matt start to have an "affair" in secret.

A gets her crush on B. B rejects her because of L. She kills herself and B blames himself for it (it happens before he left).

Some other kids as they grow, and enter the puberty, are surviving the same (crushes and stuff).

Not as planned for Watari. He realizes this too late. (Not sure when?)

_

Light doesn't pick up DN (or does but don't use it…) He meets L when there's Kira case ongoing. Since L will be far away from home and close to Light he decides to bring him in the house so Light can work alongside him (it's of course an excuse, since they will be doing other stuff too, lol).

Watari of course doesn't like it but it happens because L want it to happen.

From that time some BIG changes in the house happen.

[thepictureofsdr]

Any more news about the Better in Black short stories at the event? I am FERAL at the idea of Thomastair (and Sophideon, though that's definitely not happening)

no confirmations or anything, none of the main questions were about the kickstarter and i haven’t seen anyone talk about personally asking her questions about it

but cassie saw my insanely annotated chog copy that i was having her sign and asked what was going on in it, so i explained that it was mostly thomastair, and COMPLETELY UNPROVOKED AND UNPROMPTED she kinda insinuated that i may be happy in the future??? so?

on twitter i have “thomastair ceo” in my dn, mostly as a joke but i think i’ve earned my position

[wind-sage-serin]

“United in Purpose”

(feat. Dhelé Pikkura, my Minish Alphabet)

Though technically an abugadi language, Dhelé functions as a divine language as well, especially when vowels are removed. This essentially gives the language the quality of a whisper and makes the writing mysterious.

With this in mind, I drew an emblem of the Champions, the Princess, and her Knight, as well as the Creation Trio and Her Grace. Below I’ll walk through each related Divine Beast, Blessed Chosen, and Goddess.

The Bow of Light: The Sacred Heiress.

Located over the Triforce symbol and representative of the Heiress to the Blood of Her Grace, the Bow of Light has been the emblem of the Princess since ancient days. Though often given as a gift from the Princess to her appointed Knight, she herself has also been known to wield it.

MDX: Medoh and Its Pilot.

Named after the Sage Medli, Child of the Rito, Medoh and Its Pilot are bound together by the aspect of loyalty. Loyalty is often earned rather than freely given, and likewise, the element Medoh exudes requires sincere dedication. Its Champions have that desire to embody steadfastness. Those who seek favor of Its Champion should reflect on what they are willing to fight for, and reflect on the virtues of sincere resolve and loyalty to their fellow man.

FRR: Goddess Farore, Seeder of Life and Lady of Secrets.

Lady Farore is She Who Bears Fruit. As She seeded the world with every breath of life, down to every blade of grass, She is the embodiment of the Mystery of Life itself and acts as the Mother of Courage. Like Her Sisters, She is a demiurge that represents Secrets. Those who seek to understand Farore should sell understanding of living beings and how their inherent Life Force (unconsciously) drives them to the Courage needed to survive and thrive.

The Champions of Medoh and Rudania are tied together in Her Spirit, as they their warrior hearts are twined with bravery without reward, courage for courage’s sake. They embody the Knight.

RDNX: Rudania and Its Pilot.

Named after the Goron Sage Darunia, Rudania and Its Pilot represent safety and sanctuary. Certainly an odd choice for a warrior spirit, but bear in mind the sacred gift of protection that the Divine Beast’s Pilot holds. The element of Rudania, fire, can remain completely safe if one is respectful of its limits and maintains an understanding of it. It can also be sniffed if we overexert or care of it.

Likewise, safety can be helpful and harmful— we often coddle and protect to the detriment of our loved and precious ones, but we keep them safe for good reason. The desire for balance is key.

Thus, to best understand Rudania and Its Pilot, and to sell favor of Its Champion, one should reflect on what they are willing to protect at all costs, and should focus on the virtues of healthy sanctuary and overall temperance of spirit.

(I accidentally marked this as “DRNX” as in Darunia. Apologies to the Spirits and to those copying the magic lettering— I will get a correction out soon.)

DN: Goddess Din, Shaper of the Earthly Plane and Lady of Seasons.

Lady Din is She Who Cradles. Her part in Creation, shaping the world with Her strong arms, is a testament to her element of Power. Her nickname as stated above is due to Her shaped object, the world, carrying all who tread upon it. Her Sacred Gift of the World is strong enough to hold us all. Like Farore and Nayru, Din also represents the turning of the seasons- as the Earth gives sustenance to the Life Force of all, it gives back to the Earth. Thus, those who wish to understand Her aspect should reflect upon the place we call home, and its many peaks and troughs that reflect our daily lives.

The Champions of Rudania and Naboris are tied together by Din’s cradling Spirit. Not only do they demonstrate raw power, but they demonstrate the responsible use of that power to serve their close bonds. They embody familial ties and therefore represent a divine Parent figure.

NBRS: Naboris and Its Pilot

Divine Beast Vah Naboris is named after the ancient Gerudo Sage Nabooru, who was a dissenter against the crimes of her own king. Naboris and Its Pilot therefore embody unyielding Justice in the face of wrongdoing. When wielded properly, the lightning strike of justice is delivered swiftly, succinctly, and with little error. Lightning is a difficult element to master, however, and for that reason Naboris and Its Pilot are bound by a knowledge and understanding of what is just.

Those who seek favor and guidance from Naboris and Its Champion should focus on what they believe to be right or wrong and be willing to confront the ugly truths of what effects those beliefs have on others. Naboris demands a respect for justice beyond the scope of oneself, thus one should be considerate of others and be willing to fight for just happiness that is independent of your own.

NR: Goddess Nayru, Giver of Natural Law and Lady of Ages

Lady Nayru is best described as She Who Guides. Her role in Creation was that of giving the world the Laws that govern it— the physics, the logic, and the natural progression of cause and effect. Her nickname speaks to Her aspect of Wisdom. Like an instructor, or a nurturing mother, Her laws guide the world through time and towards the guiding Light.

The Champions of Naboris and Rudania share in Lady Nayru’s aspect of Guidance and Wisdom. They demonstrate the wisdom and patience for certain, but they also use that wisdom to lead others to find answers to their troubles. They embody the role of a wizened person, and thus embody the Sage.

RT: Ruta and Its Champion

Divine Beast Vah Ruta is named after Sage Ruto, Princess of the Zora People. It is an imposing but gentle creature. Likewise, Its champion is strong but gentle. Sage Ruto was in many ways more keen to follow her heart rather than be bound by the rules of her people, and her descendant took a similar route to do the same.

Ruta and Its Champion are bound together by compassion and desire to see progress. To fully understand and seek favor, one must be willing to put forward an effort to show compassion for compassion’s sake, good for no reason other than it is right. Furthermore, this kindness mustn’t be for selfish gain. Most of all, to seek out Its Champion’s blessing requires an assessment of what in means to love others in one’s eyes, and whether you’ve imposed reasonable limits on that or not.

HLX: Goddess Hylia, Guardian of the Sacred Relic and Lady of Time

Lady Hylia is She Who Persists, the guardian of the Triforce and the protector of those She calls Her creatures. Her aspect of time captures all who exist, and Her Life Force is emboldened by the virtue of gratitude. Those who seek Her sacred gifts must learn the roots of greed, hatred, and ignorance, and combat them with the antidotes of gratitude, kindness, and desire for understanding. Of all the Goddesses, Her Grace is the most present as much as time is binding.

To seek Her Grace is to seek nothing more of kindness than the knowledge of good. Not recognition, not fame, not wonder— simply that feeling in your fingers and toes that you did good. Those who are bound to her sphere— the Heiress, Divine Beast Loare and Its Pilot (the Hero), and (in the Calamity Era) Ruta and Its Champion— are tied together in the power of love.

As an archetype, she represents the Divine Maiden.

LXR: Laore, Horselike Divine Beast, and Its Rider, the Hero.

Laore is the name I’ve given to the unnamed and unofficial fifth Divine Beast, and is a name taken from the Hylian Sage Raoru. The horse is a beast of burden, and like the Divine Beast itself, the Hero represents the carriage of the burden of beating back evil. This responsibility, the result of a long understood cycle, requires endurance.

Those who seek this blessing should reflect on what responsibilities are theirs to handle, and conversely, what is beyond their control. They must reconcile what is within their limits to change, and they should temper their spirit with perseverance.

—————

The Virtues to reflect on, in order of this list:

[The Champions and Their Beasts]

—Effort, what you’re willing to give.

—Loyalty, What you’re willing to fight for.

—Temperence, What you’re willing to protect.

—Justice, What you’re willing to uphold.

—Compassion, What you’re willing to forgive.

—Perseverance, What you’re willing to endure.

[The Goddesses]

—Power and the Responsible Application of It

—Wisdom and the Desire to Guide and Share It with Others

—Courage, and the Extent of Sacrifice It Requires

—Gratitude, and the Time and Energy that Kindness Needs to Blossom into It

—————

Still in development. The devotionals are one of the things I meditate on and I use the lettering in charms and wards. Usually this is to petition help, but can be used for calling those entities to your altar for the sharing of offerings.

These are usually written diagonally from left to right, with the connection to the next letter being from the right long side of the last letter. I lettered it out normally as well for the sake of seeing all the components. In this image, Rudania is fixed.

[dollar2host]

Website Migration Checklist: No Data Loss Assured

Changing to a new content management system (CMS) or switching to web hosting services are both examples of website migration processes. Every website hosting company offers either free website migration or paid solutions, in which website owners are required to migrate their websites from their existing servers to new servers as part of the migration process.

A significant number of website proprietors are concerned about the loss of data, and managed assistance is essential for mitigating hazards. In the case of a website that is constructed using WordPress, for instance, it is advisable to go with the managed WordPress hosting option. In this scenario, the process of migration will be handled by professionals with technical expertise. It is also important to note that there will be no loss of data since they adhere to the website migration checklist, which I will demonstrate in the following paragraphs.

Continue reading the article to obtain the ideal checklist for website migration, which will ensure that no data is lost and will optimize search engine optimization.

Website Migration: What Does It Mean?

Moving a website involves a lot more than just transferring web hosting service providers; it also involves a lot of other things. Additional procedures, such as upgrading website technology, URL structure, design, or location, are included in this process in order to achieve improved internet visibility.

Considering that your hard-earned SEO efforts are involved in the process, you could be under the impression that it is a difficult procedure. When a website owner uses the incorrect migration technique, they run the risk of experiencing a variety of problems, including the following:

1. Error code 404

2. a website that is lacking material

3. There is no rating

Always ensure that you have a backup of the data before beginning the process of migrating your website. It is also recommended that you make use of tools that can examine the page inventory. There are a variety of SEO site crawler tools that can provide you with a live list of all pages. After the migration is complete, compare the number of pages that were moved to the list that was provided.

Website Migration Checklist: Important Considerations to Take Into Account

Presented below is the beginner's guide that will make the process of migrating their website easier.

Aim or purpose

In the first place, be sure that you are crystal clear on the goal that you want to accomplish with a new website. Are you interested in a new website structure, domain name, DNS, or a new design for your website? Following the conclusion of your decision, you can either manually move your website or request that your website hosting service provider do it for you. Not only do dependable businesses not charge for it, but they also implement cutting-edge technology such as FileZilla (File Transfer Protocol), the Rsync command, and SSH access.

During the free movement, there is no requirement for any kind of financial investment. On the other hand, web hosts that provide premium migration services will charge you a small amount in order to finish the procedure. Upon completion of the migration, the outcome that you had envisioned must be achieved.

Create a duplicate of your website.

Creating a backup of your website or putting it into an external storage device is a crucial step. Considering that your website will be transferred to the new server, you should make use of the backup machine to generate a copy of your internet site.

Stay in touch with your clients and guests.

It is essential that you provide this letter to your customers and visitors in order to notify them about the migration process. Customers who visit the website will not experience any inconvenience as a result of the notification. They are going to receive a notification, and they are not going to engage in any surfing activity during that time!

Be sure to include this procedure in your website migration checklist at all times. In the event that it is necessary, you can include such notes in your email, on your landing page, or through WhatsApp chats.

It is possible that many owners of eCommerce websites will choose this strategy in order to keep their customers updated.

With the assistance of the backup team, developers and IT experts should be prepared with their resources and tools to deal with any unforeseen circumstances. Immediately following the migration, there may be certain activities that call for rapid attention in order to mitigate the risk of data loss. Taking this step reduces potential dangers and guarantees that website operations are stress-free.

Experts in key areas, such as search engine optimization executives, content writers, marketing automation tools, user experience specialists, and others, should be included on your team. In general, this approach will make it possible for everyone to bring to light any potential difficulties prior to the relocation of the website. Alterations made at the eleventh hour are an indication of a lack of professionalism.

Established a deadline for migration

How long it takes to migrate a website is directly proportional to the size of the website that is being moved. To reach your goal and introduce new pages in a timely manner, however, you will need to adhere to a set timetable. An extended deadline for website transfer is not something that can be afforded by enterprises that manage websites that generate billions of dollars in revenue.

According to the findings, it results in a very low volume of traffic and restricts the number of clients. In light of this, establishing a migration date is not only economically feasible but also beneficial for the entire IT unit. In addition, significant alterations to websites will render them unavailable to visitors, which will result in a decrease in the volume of traffic. Migrating on a predetermined timetable during off-hours is therefore suggested.

Evaluate Your Analytical Performance

Never, ever disregard the analytics data that your website generates. In the aftermath of the relocation, it will be beneficial to determine whether or not there is any loss of traffic. If you want to gather exact statistics on where the website traffic is lost, the easiest way to do it is to compare two things side by side.

You can examine the traffic count of particular landing pages by selecting the "Traffic Acquisition" option from the "Reports" section of Google Analytics. If you are referring to Google Analytics, you can perform this check. It is essential to put this strategy into action because each of the landing pages contributes something of value to the authority of your page. Therefore, any loss of data will result in a lower ranking for the website on search engines, which will lead to bad performance.

A Website Migration Checklist for Search Engine Optimization

Howdy, search engine optimization fans! This is the checklist that your team needs to complete in order to successfully migrate the website.

Gather all of the URLs.

In order to assemble all of the website URLs that are indexed or not indexed, the SEO team must do so. It is necessary for them to determine all of the pages that will be mapped during the ongoing process of website consolidation. The importance of this phase cannot be overstated when it comes to the maintenance of traffic levels following migration, particularly in the event that URL structures are altered or URLs are merged. Depending on the size of the website, it is possible to map all URLs to one another, or it is possible to map only priority URLs to one another.

Map Redirects That Are Required

Once it has been determined which URLs require mapping, a draft should be created that includes the list of URLs that have been mapped as well as the new path for each URL. Here is a suggestion for columns that you may include in the Excel sheet that you have created.

New Destination URL

Legacy URL

Pre-Migration Status

Code Old Destination URL

If it is not possible to map all URLs to one another within the scope of your migration project, then you should make sure that at least all priority pages have 1:1 mappings to equivalent or near-similar sites. This would be the ideal case.

Create new analytics for use.

Following the migration of the website, the changes to the Data Setting in Google Analytics will be new. In addition to deploying GTM code in the backend of the website, the SEO team is responsible for updating all landing page paths. It goes without saying that the development team will be required to lend a hand, but the SEO team will be the only one to provide significant tracking-related recommendations.

Begin using paid advertising.

What are some ways that you may let your clients and visitors know about the revised URLs? Using paid campaigns is the solution to this problem. In order to accomplish this, you will want Google Ad banners, content for Display Ads, and social media posts in order to run paid campaigns and get paid visitors. It is necessary to allocate a budget at the beginning, but once the page authority has been established, organic traffic will progressively increase. 

When Should You Begin the Process of Migrating Your Website?

Here are some suggestions that I would like to share with you on the appropriate timing of the migration of your website.

Changes to the Site's Top-Level

In the event that you need to make significant modifications to your website, you will need to migrate it. The migration of content to a new domain, the change of server locations, and the migration to website hosting providers are all examples of these types of situations. A top-level modification can be anything as simple as transferring subdirectories (for example, "example.com/category") to subdomains (for example, "example.site.com"), which is a relatively minimal change. The reason for this is that you are altering the URL path in the database of the website.

Making your webpages compatible with the Accelerated Mobile Pages (AMP) framework is yet another significant improvement that you should make. In order to better meet the requirements of mobile users, search engines such as Google, Bing, and Yahoo give preference to websites that are mobile-friendly. In such circumstances, it is necessary to move the entirety of the website.

Redirect to the 301

In the event that you are going to make significant changes to the fundamental structure of your website, you will need to migrate your website. One of the primary goals of this endeavor is to communicate with people all across the world. In order to accomplish this, website proprietors translate the information that is already present and establish a respective subdirectory for each country.

In addition, a 301 redirect is required in order to change permalinks that contain post IDs to descriptive slug information. In situations like this, it will be necessary to use 301 redirects in order to permanently alter the URLs so that they point to the new URLs. If you do not implement these redirects before the new site structure goes live, you run the danger of losing your search engine optimization score since search engines will regard these sites to be problematic.

Redesign of the Website

Even modifications that do not affect the overall structure of your website or its URL are considered to be part of the definition of website migration by some. Rebranding your website or making changes to its design are also included in this category.

As a result of the change, it is possible that essential on-page SEO elements will be inadvertently or accidentally lost. You might mistakenly remove heading tags if you change typefaces, or you might forget to add alt tags if you replace on-page images in bulk. Both of these potential outcomes are possible.

Even if they improve a website's usability, user experience upgrades can occasionally reduce the site's search engine optimization (SEO). It is conceivable to write code for a new interactive feature that appears to be user-friendly in such a way that would prevent Google from accessing its content. Whenever a change poses a risk of losing search engine optimization (SEO) throughout the entirety of a website, a migration problem develops.

Conclusion:

Last but not least, we would like to draw the conclusion that the checklist for the migration of the website has a great deal more components, depending on the requirements. A variety of factors, including traffic, website structures, search engine optimization strategies, and technical aspects, are unique to each website. Also, the kind of web hosting service that you select will determine whether or not the migration of your website is a hassle-free process. We have a guide titled "Easily Migrate Your Website to Dollar2host by Yourself" in our Frequently Asked Questions section that you may refer to if you are interested in migrating to Dollar2host servers.

In general, the process of migrating a website calls for a suitable plan, objectives, and resources in terms of both information technology and human resources. Therefore, if you are concentrating on websites and online businesses, you should hire professionals to move the website and speed up its performance.

Mary Thomas

Dollar2host

mary.thomas@dollar2host.com

Dollar2host.com

We provide expert Webhosting services for your desired needs

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[devinschumacher]

📺 How to Setup a G Suite Account: Email, MX Records, SPF, DKIM & DMARC (Google Workspace) 

🎁 Free Checklist: https://devin.to/ps-gsuite-mx-records ▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁ 

Everybody hates Google documentation.... Let's face it - it's the fuckin worst. 

 So, instead of wasting your prime adult years trying to figure out what an MX record is, how to setup SPF, DKIM & DMARC records and why nothing ever works... I filmed a quick video for you showing you all about it. 

 You'll still prolly be bored to death, but at least there's a light at the end of the tunnel now. Cheers, & Stay funky 🦩 

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁ 

MX Records: A DNS 'mail exchange' (MX) record directs email to a mail server. The MX record indicates how email messages should be routed in accordance with the Simple Mail Transfer Protocol (SMTP, the standard protocol for all email). 

 TXT Records: A DNS TXT (“text”) record lets a domain administrator enter arbitrary text into the Domain Name System (DNS). TXT records were initially created for the purpose of including important notices regarding the domain, but have since evolved to serve other purposes. 

 SPF: A sender policy framework (SPF) record is a type of DNS TXT record that lists all the servers authorized to send emails from a particular domain. DKIM: DomainKeys Identified Mail (DKIM) is a method of email authentication that helps prevent spammers and other malicious parties from impersonating a legitimate domain. 

 DMARC: Domain-based Message Authentication Reporting and Conformance (DMARC) is a method of authenticating email messages. A DMARC policy tells a receiving email server what to do after checking a domain's Sender Policy Framework (SPF) and DomainKeys Identified Mail (DKIM) records, which are additional email authentication methods. 

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You can just buy yourself something you've been wanting, or do your weekly shopping! (i know you've been trying to squeeze that last little bit of toothpaste from the tube for like 3 months now... it's time for a new one) 

 🎁 Treat Yourself: https://devin.to/amazon 

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tags: #gmail #gsuite #email #mxrecords #spf #dkim #dmarc 

[queersturbate]

16 for the dn ask game? :0

heyyy!

from this ask game!

16. who do you think is the smartest character?

i know who Obha and Obata confirm is the smartest character, which is Near. And while i usually don't challenge that because Near stans already get so much shit for just liking that little freak they don't need anyone to take away the advantage he had over L. Honestly i think it's hilarious of O&O to confirm that the character everyone accuses of being a knock off L, is actually just smarter than him.

but you know, they looked at it with a defined (almost book related) intelligence. And there are some obscure/differing smarts that Near just lacks and L doesn't care about. Not to be a Light stan but i do genuinely think he is smarter than them in the grand, overall scheme of things. Looking past just book-smart, he is also socially smart which L and Near are not. He knows how to earn respect and trust from strangers (cautious and relaxed alike), he kept up the good boy charade for years, he knew when to say what and how to address people properly. It's a skill that Near and L do not have. Light also is smart with more obscure things like I said. Building the fake drawer? not that difficult anyone can do it, but the way he rigged it is impressive. Fully wired a whole innocence plan just from a little chemical experiment in an abandoned bathroom.

anyway, this was long winded just to say I unfortunately think Light is the smartest character overall but Near is smarter in like book-smarts. Sorry L.

[batwritings]

I think your request are still open but I was wondering if you could write anything for slime monster dream ?? Like the idea that he can have tentacles and is just able to fill you up so sooo well I- (sorry idk why I find that shit hot) just him like being everywhere on ur skins dn anywhere he can inside of you stuffing you full of himself

Love your work sm !!

Ooh! I’ve actually never written anything like this so I hope this is okay! (Do we ever understand why we find certain things hot? ^^;; ) Enjoy~!

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

You were always curious about the extent of Dream’s abilities. As a slime creature, he was able to do things most his human companions couldn’t. And that seemed to extend to the bedroom.

“God you look so hot like this baby,” Dream hums off to your right side. You’re a bit too tied up and blinded by pleasure to respond. You were stuff to the brim, a slimy tentacle in each of your holes while he felt over ever patch of skin he could find. “You feel good? Tap once for ‘yes’, twice for ‘no’.”

You tap the tentacle in your mouth once, letting your boyfriend know you were fine. The sensation of him all around you was overwhelming, pleasure humming along your skin. At one point, Dream licks a line along your ignored sex, earning a cry from around his appendage.

“Like that baby?” he chuckles, not waiting for your response. He could see the pleasured shivers going up your spine. He knew you were in absolute heaven.

Dream’s tongue and mouth never leave you until you’re frantically grabbing at his arm that was drawing soft shapes on your hip. He looks up at you, pulling back from your core. “You close?” he asks, panting slightly. You tap his tentacle once and he smirks. “Good. Cum for me sweets, you’re gonna feel so good.”

Your slime boyfriend hums, pleased as you moan around his appendages. You ride against his face and the tentacle inside you as you reach your peak. He pulls out and away from you all at once, and your lungs ache as they’re filled with fresh air.

“How was that?” Dream asks, amused at your breathless form.

You look at him with a goofy smile. “Amazing.”

[thealexchen]

Howdy, I have a question, how do you feel about Charlotte Harmon? I personally love her and relate heavily as I just went through a tragedy like that but it does bother me that so many people hate her because of her anger. On one hand, I understand the disliking of Charlotte blaming everyone involved but on the other hand, I feel like so many don't acknowledge that she doesn't actually want to feel this way. And as a Black person, I can't help but feel like her race has a part in this hatred.

Howdy!

I really liked Charlotte! She's a complex character and I really sympathized with her situation. And I'm sincerely sorry you relate to her personal tragedy; I hope you're doing alright.

The reality is, grief is complex and different for everyone. It's rarely rational and manifests in various ways. For example, after Gabe's death, Alex shut down and couldn't leave her apartment for days, but even though she's Gabe's sister, she's never shown outwardly grieving or crying over his death and instead expends emotional labor to comfort others. I saw some streamers act confused over that too, but they excused Alex's grief because it wasn't as outwardly disruptive.

It's completely unfair that others are demonizing Charlotte's anger, especially because she is a Black woman. I always hated that women's feelings, but especially women of color, are so heavily scrutinized and made out to be something to be trivialized, afraid of, or disapproved of. As Alex writes in her journal, "Hadn't Charlotte earned the right to be angry?"

Also, Alex only had access to Charlotte's innermost thoughts because of her empathy powers. In reality, those thoughts were never Alex's right to hear. If I were her, I would've just left after Charlotte asked to be alone. And Charlotte herself is horrified that she is even thinking them. But Charlotte never acts on them-- she bears no outward ill will toward Ryan or Alex and especially not toward Ethan. Based on her behavior at the LARP, I never would have suspected she was angry. And when she tells Alex, "I can deal with hating Gabe or Ryan or you," it doesn't mean she's condoning her hatred, rather that she can rationalize it, work through it, and recover from it. She considers it unforgivable by her own standards that she hates her son and that's the root of her mixed feelings.

I am not a parent. I'm not going to pretend that I understand how Charlotte would feel about her son. But she's a young mom; she's 28 and she had Ethan when she was 18. As I've gotten older, I've grown skeptical of the trope of the all-loving, forgiving mother. I honestly thought it was really bold of D9 to humanize Charlotte this way. I always wondered while playing LiS2 if Sean would ever snap and blame Daniel for everything. That never happened and I don't think DN needed to write that plot point in. But Charlotte's anger was complex and uncomfortable to confront, and I applaud D9 for tackling it.

Thank you for asking!