#ing overnight

[thebonejunky]

IM GOING TO WRITE SAW III: THE MUSICAL. BUT IM TIRED RIGHT NOW SO IM GOING TO DO IT LATER

[ilovedthestars]

honestly the biggest Competing Access Needs issue that I personally have run into in online spaces is this:

people need, deserve, and should have space to complain and critique. that includes critiquing things that I (and they!) care about and find valuable, in order to make them better. those conversations are often necessary and healthy, and they should be allowed to happen.

however, I find those kinds of conversations incredibly stressful, often outright upsetting. especially when it involves people I like/respect arguing with or criticizing other people I like/respect. my instinct is to try to mediate and smooth things over and acknowledge the points of both sides, but often that’s either not my place to do or would be actively unhelpful. so I just end up torn in the middle of what feels to me like a barrage of negativity, filled with the unhelpful desire to be like “can’t we just all get along????”

the only and best solution to this is for me to just remove myself from conversations like these, and I’ve gotten better at that, but. It’s still difficult for me to deal with, even though I know that despite my hangups, it’s sometimes better for those conversations to happen than not.

[drarryspecificrecs]

2024.05 ~ Top 10 longest fics posted on AO3

1. Extraordinary Labor by Miershooptier [E, 259k]

►Set long after the Battle of Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy is abruptly and unwillingly called home after spending the last twenty years living and studying abroad. It seems that there are things at Malfoy Manor which need to be put to rest, and the Ministry of Magic has determined that as the sole remaining Malfoy by blood, Draco is the only one who can do it. But curse breaking is not Draco’s area of expertise, and so the Ministry has found someone willing to help.

2. Saviour by @whumpitlikeyoumeanit [E, 204k]  *typo

►Several years post-War, Draco is found wandering, incoherent, and ill, in the aftermath of an extended bout of the Imperius curse. Harry Potter brings him into his home to protect him while the rest of the world thinks he's dead.

3. A Dark and Savage Magic by @tessacrowley [E, 124k]

►They say that the earliest spells were cast without wands, that they were bargains made with the earth. They say that the magic was theoretically limitless, equal only to the price the caster was willing to pay, strong enough to move mountains and reshape the sky. They say that omegas were pioneers of that magic, its scholars and its stewards. But that was many thousands of years ago. Ages have come and gone since the last of the druids drew breath. Their knowledge, and their power, has slipped from history to legend, from legend to myth. Omegas are now an underclass, and druids a relic of an idealized but unattainable past. Draco Malfoy, an omega himself, has a natural skill in the old magic that will do him no favors.

4. The Rehabilitation of Draco Malfoy by sayschu [E, 119k]

►Harry Potter spent the first year post-war being the hero everyone needed. Draco Malfoy was abandoned in Azkaban, where a plot to punish Death Eaters has left him more vulnerable than ever. Now they're both returning to Hogwarts, and while Harry aches for a connection, Malfoy can't bear to be touched.

5. Mute series by Wendy_Noire [T, 106k, 2 works]

►While the wizarding world were led to believe that Harry Potter was treated like a prince, the reality was much worse. It was a shock for Draco to realise the other 11 year old in Madame Malkins' wasn't simply uninterested in him, but couldn't speak. He was even more shocked to discover that this child was none other than Harry Potter, someone he had been expecting to be as cocky as Snape had told him James was, not this small, shy, mute boy. From that moment on, Draco swore to himself that he would protect the smaller of the two, even if his parents disagreed with his decision.

6. Follies of an Ornamental Hermit by @mallstars --- ART by @itsphantasmagoria​ [E, 103k]

►Potter still wasn't looking at him. Instead he faced the windows, watching the snow and the sunless sea. Behind the welcome desk, standing tall amidst the wisdom and glistening magic, Draco controlled the spheres of restless light and the flustered books, all with gentle flicks of a wand that had once served Potter without a beat of hesitation. If Potter were to look, Draco would be ready. He had a right to be here. The library was his, if only after hours.

7. Harry & The Slytherin Six by @youhavemyswordandmybow [M, 100k]

►Three things happened after the war. Hermione lost her memory. Ron didn’t handle it well, started to wear lots of black, work-out relentlessly, fix up Sirius’s motorbike and sleep around. And Harry let homeless, ex-con Slytherins move in with him until their homes and Gringotts accounts were released. Because, he's a f--ing idiot. Oh, and Andromeda made him take parental classes - in order for him to have Teddy overnight.

8. Protego Obscurial by @sightedkarma [E, 90k]

►As the Founder of Protego Maxima, the top-rated Mixed Magical Security Firm in England, Harry is a busy man. He has a policy that states he no longer takes on clients personally, as he, Ron and Hermione continue to grow the business. So when Pansy Parkinson appears in his office requesting he takes on a special case, one would think he would reject her. You would be right, if that special case didn't include a huge donation to his charity and the opportunity to work with his favorite band. But when he finds out just how familiar the men behind those masks are and how personal this case will be, he may wish he had stuck to policy.

9. An Exercise In Forgiveness by @pepperpaperpopper​ [M, 74k]

►Seven apologies in seven years. A down and out Draco is on a quest to become a better man while trying to find his moral compass. Meanwhile, Harry struggles with regret and resentment and is unable to leave the war behind. Can they find grace and forgiveness? [...]

10. The Future Is Guaranteed by iima_k [T, 40k]

►Over two years ago, Harry and Draco made big life changes: Harry moved away and Draco ended his marriage. Now pessimistic about life, a chance meeting has them learning about love, purpose, and family. For once, they begin to honestly question, what is it that they want?

—

※ Word count: 1k ~ 10k

※ Word count: 10k ~ 40k

At least I'm trying. by carelesspeaches [E, 17k]

An Eight-Headed Snake by Otherain [T, 30k]

Goodbye Pond by @handledwithgloves [G, 18k]

How do you spell ‘love’? You don’t spell it…you feel it. by skotini [T, 20k]

How to live with Malfoy by ProseMary [T, 16k]

Mordax Afectium by maxallover [M, 14k]

The Risk of Falling by @siobhanhazel [T, 19k]

Tastes Like Commitment by Reloumi [E, 21k]

that's the beauty of a secret (you know you're supposed to keep it) by @autisticnightfury [E, 39k]

The Third Son series by Runner3434 [E, 31k, 3 works]

Walked In and Dream Came Trued It for Ya by CheatsatUNO [G, 12k]

—

Ongoing Fest/Exchange

※ Fics would be listed elsewhere.

HD Mpreg 2024 | @harrydracompreg

Lights Camera Drarry 2024 | @lcdrarry

[marvelousgeeks]

Respectfully, we’re f—ing tired. A TV show’s audience isn’t going to grow in billions overnight, and especially in the year of our Lord 2024, when viewers know that networks and streamers are notorious for canceling. Prime Video’s My Lady Jane cancelation also comes as a complete shock when the show gained a steady viewership from its first weekend, favorable reviews from critics, and is still trending on social media with a steady buzz from fandoms.

The cancelation also doesn’t factor in the fact that the show was released right before the Summer Olympics, which means now that the games are over, people are only just beginning to watch other content. For years, executives have failed to understand the enormous power that fandoms hold, and half of that comes from building trust between them. One simply needs to look through the thousands of quote tweets on Twitter’s announcement to see how many people comment something along the lines of “See, this is why I don’t start new shows until I know they’re renewed.” People are jaded, and rightfully so, as the trust between big networks and fans continues to fracture.

Continue Reading

[drarryspecificrecsdaily]

2024.05.07

Complete fics posted on AO3 this day

1. A Dark and Savage Magic by @tessacrowley [E, 124k]

►They say that the earliest spells were cast without wands, that they were bargains made with the earth. They say that the magic was theoretically limitless, equal only to the price the caster was willing to pay, strong enough to move mountains and reshape the sky. They say that omegas were pioneers of that magic, its scholars and its stewards. But that was many thousands of years ago. Ages have come and gone since the last of the druids drew breath. Their knowledge, and their power, has slipped from history to legend, from legend to myth. Omegas are now an underclass, and druids a relic of an idealized but unattainable past. Draco Malfoy, an omega himself, has a natural skill in the old magic that will do him no favors.

2. Harry & The Slytherin Six by @youhavemyswordandmybow [M, 100k]

►Three things happened after the war. Hermione lost her memory. Ron didn’t handle it well, started to wear lots of black, work-out relentlessly, fix up Sirius’s motorbike and sleep around. And Harry let homeless, ex-con Slytherins move in with him until their homes and Gringotts accounts were released. Because, he's a f--ing idiot. Oh, and Andromeda made him take parental classes - in order for him to have Teddy overnight.

3. Saviour by @whumpitlikeyoumeanit [E, 204k]  *typo

►Several years post-War, Draco is found wandering, incoherent, and ill, in the aftermath of an extended bout of the Imperius curse. Harry Potter brings him into his home to protect him while the rest of the world thinks he's dead.

---

Fest/Exchange

1. Slipping through my fingers all the time by Anonymous [T, 11k]

►Recently-divorced Harry returns to Serenity Commune, site of his wildest youthful romps and the beginning of his recovery from trauma, to get out of a rut (and because Hermione made him). Unfortunately, sex, drugs, and dancing aren't all that await - he'll have to confront his past and what life might have been. ★ Lights Camera Drarry 2024 | @lcdrarry

[radioisntdead]

Buon giorno or Buona notte dearest!!

I have another request heheheh

Think of this : Angel and the gang go out for another trust exercise, and they see an add for one if m!readers concerts.

Since Angel is a fan, he asks to go with the group as a bonding experience, which Charlie says yes too

They go together, and m!reader is getting ready, when they see Angel and think he's quite cute, not knowing him from his ahem, works and they sing a love song (Heavy metal lover by Lady Gaga) and Angel almost has a heart attack.

(It's mostly the ; 'I could be your girl,girl,girl' part that I get inspired from)

At some point Val starts being a weirdo, and then m!reader publicly shits on him in front of their entire audience, and he leaves after getting taken away by a few of m!readers fans

And it ends happily ever after with them together forever :D

(Readers music vibe is like odetari, ayesha erotica, asteria, etc)

If you could do this, it would make my summer!!

Love

-XIN🌹💝

Good evening my dearest Xin! I had so much fun writing this, my apologies it took awhile to write but I hope you enjoy it!

Backstage passes

Angel dust x M! Reader

Warnings: Valentino gets ripped apart, literally. Reader is low-key like the dazzlings from MLP, also I imagine the reader died via Bell accident like that evil dude from Disney's coco

Song used [I listened to this song so much while writing that it actually made me sick LMAO]

You appeared in hell overnight after dying from an unfortunate and totally not planned stage accident, involving a bell, everything you had worked so hard for gone within a mere moment.

Filled with rage and the confidence of someone desperate to thrive in the spotlight, you began to conquer the music scene of hell.

You climbed the ranks and crushed those beneath you, if you weren't so focused on gaining fame instead of plain ol' power you'd give a couple of overlords a good run for their money.

You captured the attention of hell's finest, sinners and hellborn alike wanted to book you for their events, concerts were sold out within seconds, stan accounts on hell's Twitter servers would beef with those who opposed you, music edits were made of you, memes and clips, mildly disturbing fanfiction was written, you were an icon.

Along with catching the attention of hell's finest, you gained Angel dust as a fan.

Your music would be playing in the clubs he went to, sometimes played during his drag shows, he'd use it as background for whatever thoughts he disassociated away to whenever Valentino was having his way, or he'd just listen to your music when he was alone.

And so when Charlie somehow managed to get the entire hotel front row tickets to your show after he mentioned it's make a good group exercise, he was ecstatic!

The group waited outside, Charlie and Vaggie were trying to secure a place for them in line, Alastor would rather died again then attend so his ticket went to Cherri, Husk had found the bar, Niffty was terrorizing some sinners by cleaning, Sir Pentious was... Sir Pentious-ing Cherri bomb, and that left Angel dust to wonder around until the show began, stumbling into a nearby store to grab some snacks.

You on the other hand sneaked out to go to the convenience store near by the concert venue in full performance outfit covered by an oversized coat and hood just to grab a slushie and a light snack because with all the dancing you were going to be doing, you couldn't do on a empty stomach but not a too full one or you'd puke!

And that's where you saw him, purchasing a couple of things.

You had a little thing for cute things, and Angel dust seemed to fall into that category, for you anyways, for most of hell's people, they usually tended to put him into a more... Exploitive one,

It wouldn't hurt for you to make one of your people drop off a couple of backstage passes for that spider, after your show right?

Or better yet maybe you could do it yourself?

The concert venue was filled with sinners and hellborn alike from all types of backgrounds, all there to see you perform.

Including a couple of overlords.

Angel's eyes bounced around the stage waiting for your arrival.

Soon enough the bright lights dimmed and more colorful ones took their place.

Lights, smoke, action.

Heavy metal lover

Heavy metal lover

Heavy metal lover

It was starting.

Heavy metal lover Heavy metal lover

You came up from a platform under the stage smoke coming out with you as the music began, microphone in hand, and eyes closed shut.

Heavy metal lover

Heavy metal lover

Heavy metal lover

Heavy metal lover

Your eyes shot open as you began to move, background dancers were moving in sync, all eyes were on you.

Heavy metal lover

Heavy metal lover

Heavy metal lover

Heavy metal lover

Dressed in black and neons you practically glowed in the dark atmosphere,

"I want your whiskey mouth all over my blonde south," your voice rang out throughout the venue causing some members of the audience to scream out your name.

You struggled to hold back a filthy grin.

"Red wine, cheap perfume, and a filthy pout," you walked out onto the stage front and center, lights following you in all your leather-y glory, the backstage passes in your sleeve crinkled.

"Tonight bring all your friends, because a group does it better," Angel dust's eyes were locked onto you much like everyone's else's, like they were hypnotized.

"Why river with a pair? Let's have a full house of leather," Oh how you adored being the center of attention, you looked at the crowd, eyes glancing over everyone, a mild shiver of disgust went through you when you accidentally locked eyes with what looked to be a grape flavored moth.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

You quickly moved your eyes away to continue looking for a certain spider, honestly your attachment to see a sinner you only saw for five seconds tops in a convenience store was interesting.

What was even more interesting was your ability to avoid the explicit ads for the films he did, seriously they were everywhere in hell! Including said convenience store!

"Heavy metal lover,"

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

"Heavy metal lover,"

As you walked across the stage you kept your eyes on the audience,

Searching..

Searching..

And you found him!

Right in the front row, how did you not see him before?

"Dirty pony, I can't wait to hose you down," your eyes locked on him as his locked on yours.

Did that count as a horrible, HORRIBLE pickup line or was that just poorly timed?

"You've got to earn your leather in this part of town," it seems someone hadn't seen the poison music video! You flared out your own leather jacket, the shiny gems on it sparkling in the dark.

"Dirty pearls and a patch for all the Rivington Rebels," you winked at him before turning on your heel as your background dancers circled around you with all sorts of dancing.

"Let's raise hell in the streets, drink beer and get into trouble,"

You danced and your background dancers mimicked in perfect coordination.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

"Heavy metal lover,"

You began strutting to the center of the stage.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

You leaned down and went into what I can only describe as a sensual army crawl but without relying on your elbows to crawl.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

You moved towards Angel dust.

"Heavy metal lover,"

You reached out an arm towards him, gently tugging on his bowtie to pull him closer to the stage, once he was close enough you touched his face, his eyes were wide and his heart was nearly pounding out of his fluffy spider chest, you his all time favorite singer was touching his face.

"I could be your girl, girl, girl, girl, girl, girl,"

Within seconds you moved your arm just enough to loosen the backstage passes from your sleeve and have them fall into your hand.

"But would you love me if I ruled the world, world, world?"

You tucked the tickets into the front of his shirt where his chest fluff was located, being careful not to accidently grope the spider.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

You gave a wink before flipping yourself onto your back and throwing yourself up and strutting back to the middle of the stage as your performers danced around you.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

Unfortunately a certain moth witnessed your little flirt, with his best pornstar? He didn't think so.

Without alerting the other two Vees who were actually focused on the show itself he marched his way through the crowd.

Heavy metal lover

"Whip me, slap me, punk funk, New York clubbers, bump drunk,"

Shoving audience members to the side, causing some to crash into each other and tumble like dominoes, grabbing the attention of others.

"Bud Light, liquors, bar slam, move it, this is your jam"

Of course that caught your attention, and you didn't appreciate someone stepping out and stealing the attention that belonged to you! That you deserved and worked so hard for!

"Wash the night with St. Jameson, Like a baptism, heavy metal lovers play,"

You took a couple of steps towards the side of the stage where he was.

"Baby, we were born this way''

"Uh oh, it seems a shiny headed purple man is trying to wreck the show! We can't exactly have that now can we?"

You could barely hear whatever words he was saying, in your prospective it was like a grape yappin' away.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

With a wave of your hand the crowd grabbed onto him, lifting him up and pulling him through, landing him in the cannibal section.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

Grabbing onto his limbs and pulling them apart, teeth were sunk into him pulling at his purple flesh.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

Attention was back on you, as it should be.

No one paid mind to Valentino's screams as if they couldn't hear it or as if it wasn't happening at all, completely and utterly enamoured with you and your music.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

Heavy metal lover

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

Neither of the Vee's would notice he was gone until hours after the show, no one would notice the blood scattered on the floor until late at night when they were cleaning up the messes, and no one would know what exactly happened to him until he eventually respawn, having lost everything.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

Heavy metal lover

What a scary power you possessed, even if you didn't completely realize you had it.

But that wasn't the focus here, because as if nothing ever happened you went back to flirting with Angel dust from the stage.

"I could be your girl, girl, girl, girl, girl, girl, but would you love me if I ruled the world, world, world?"

Eventually the show would end, and you'd wait anxiously backstage until that spider came, cashing in that backstage pass you shamelessly gave him from the stage, followed by the princess of hell herself moments later trying to get you to join her hotel.

Heavy metal lover Heavy metal lover, Heavy metal lover

And what else could you do then accept her invitation to join her little hazbin hotel, although you were anything but a hazbin.

And if you did manage to get past the pearly gates, you already had earth and hell alike in a chokehold, imagine what you'd accomplish if you performed in heaven?

Heavy metal lover, Heavy metal lover

It was a good chance to get to know Angel dust as well, the two of you would go from friends to something more.

Heavy metal lover

Friends to lovers was such a a underrated trope wasn't it?

Heavy metal lover

It wouldn't hurt to lean a little more into romantic songs, especially if you went the more cheesy route and played for Angel alone.

Heavy metal lover, Heavy metal lover, Heavy metal lover

You couldn't wait for the chance to shamelessly flirt with him while you were on stage again.

Heavy metal lover, Heavy metal lover

Good evening folks! I hope you enjoyed! I know my posting schedule has been a little wonky [side eyeing the Wednesday angst being posted on Thursdays] my bad, there's some personal stuff going on, plus I've been feeling a little sick but hopefully everything will be a little more organized this week! As always thank you for tuning on in, goodnight!

[mighty-ant]

enough is enough

shoutout to @soy-s4uce for commissioning me!

ao3

It started with a little tickle in Launchpad’s throat. 

He didn’t think anything of it. A cold swept through the kids just last week, a little thing that cooped them up in the mansion. Beakley kept them well supplied with tissues so they (Dewey) didn’t use their sleeves to wipe their noses and Donald commandeered the kitchen to make enough of Grandma Duck’s “famous chicken soup” to feed an army. 

Without any adventures for a week, Mr. McDee begrudgingly attended to the growing demands of his company—after the kids begged, cajoled, and threatened him into not going anywhere exciting without them while Donald and Della glared daggers at him over their heads.

Mr. McDee had his typical Richest Duck in the World-type business meetings, plus he was still interviewing candidates for a new board of directors since his last one didn’t work out so great. 

The meetings lasted hours, and took Mr. McDee not just out of the city but all over the state and across the country. These bigwigs were scattered everywhere, and he not only wanted to meet with them, but everyone who worked with them. Better safe than sorry and all that. 

All of which meant that for a whole week, Launchpad was really only around the family as Mr. McDee’s driver, just like old times. 

Oh, he was flying Mr. McDee too, but only because Della hadn’t wanted to do it. Since it was a business trip, Launchpad was expected to do a lot of sitting around and waiting to drive Mr. McDee to the next appointment, to which Della had immediately declared, “Bor-ing!” before running off to set up Legends of Legendquest for her and Huey to play. 

But Launchpad didn’t mind, as much as he would’ve liked to join Drake on his current case: tracking down a runaway theater troupe turned theatrical bank robbers. At least he was being useful here. And besides, he planned to spend his free time while away rewatching some of the Darkwing Duck episodes he’d saved on his phone and trying to decipher the memes Gosalyn was always sending him. 

Drake tended to worry about Launchpad when he went anywhere with Mr. McDee and the family, convinced they invited craziness just by breathing, and he wasn’t exactly wrong. So Launchpad planned to text Drake, too, to let him know he was okay. Maybe Launchpad would even call him when breaks in his patrol allowed, so that he could close his eyes and listen to the lilt of Drake’s voice and pretend they were side by side, so close their arms were pressed together. He wasn’t quite brave enough to hold Drake’s hand in real life, but Launchpad would bet anything that they were warm and lined with calluses. 

Launchpad had almost been looking forward to the business trip. Time apart from Drake and Gosalyn just meant reunions were always that much sweeter, making him feel fit to bursting with a kind of joy he’d never known before, like he’d swallowed the sun. 

Gosalyn usually threw herself at him the second he stepped through the door, from the higher up the better, and would hang off his back while he swept Drake into a bearhug that was eagerly returned. There was nothing quite like the feeling of Drake’s arms wrapped snug around his middle, or how his head fit perfectly under Launchpad’s chin. 

But after Della bolted, Mr. McDee pat Launchpad on the arm with a fond, absentminded sort of smile. “Ach, that girl. Well, you’ll be enough for a quick flight, eh, McQuack?”

It was a rude wakeup call; a punch to the gut that left him breathless, impossible to brace against because he never saw it coming. But maybe he should’ve. That was just the story of his life, wasn’t it? Good Enough McQuack. 

In the moment, Launchpad had smiled blithely. What else could he do? 

“You got it, boss!” 

Though as he packed an overnight bag, as he gassed up the plane, as they took-off and through all the long lonely hours of flight, he burned inside. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling: shame and embarrassment and a deep, deep sadness going down like a bad burrito, emotional heartburn without a cure. 

He was eighteen when he left home, Loopy having taken his spot in the Flying McQuacks.

Launchpad remembered squinting against the glare of the sun, watching her pull off loops and dives he never could without crashing first, when his dad clapped an arm around his shoulders.

“You were A-OK, son, but now we’ve got a real pilot on our hands!” 

He’d traveled a little over ten years before settling in Duckburg, bouncing between undersea palaces and werewolf communes and even a ninja clan or two before eventually wearing out his welcome and being encouraged to move on. He thought he’d found a home with the Ducks, but even though they cared about him, it was clear that he was just a placeholder for someone better. 

He was thirty-five when Della came home and took back the plane that was rightfully hers. Thirty-five when he met Drake, and it felt like a dream come true. But all dreams had to end, right?

He’d never said anything to Launchpad about moving on, not yet, but maybe it was only a matter of time. Even he didn’t have to be a genius to know that it had to bother Drake, Launchpad’s…Launchpadness. It was a rotating list of screw-ups: clumsy, slow, bad driver, bad pilot, take your pick. He was a pretty poor excuse for a sidekick, not that Drake had much of a choice in the matter. 

But maybe he did now, with Gosalyn’s presence in their lives his life becoming more permanent. She already had a mask and a hood to wear when she joined them on patrol (lovingly stitched together by Drake), and she was trying out the codename Quiverwing, which was as good a superhero title as Launchpad had ever heard. 

Drake deserved everything, more than Launchpad could give. And Launchpad wasn’t a jealous man, not really, but sometimes when the Justice Ducks got together and he saw Drake—Darkwing—standing beside great heroes like Penumbra or Gizmoduck, each of them confident, larger than life, he saw how much Drake belonged next to them, and how much Launchpad…didn’t. 

He wasn’t a superhero. He didn’t even have a costume, and he wouldn’t be able to think one up if he tried. As a kid, he tied a towel around his neck for a cape (after getting in trouble for tearing up his bed sheets) and pretended his Nana’s old church hat was a cowl. But Launchpad wasn’t a kid anymore, and he knew better than to think he would ever be good enough for  Darkwing. 

It was a lot of things that added up to one big problem, and the problem was him. Everything he wasn’t, everything he lacked. Even when Drake smiled at him, next to him on the couch or beside him on patrol, something caught in his chest and he couldn’t stop looking for the slightest wrinkle in his forehead, the barely perceptible narrowing of his eyes, any sign of the disappointment he had to feel. Disappointment that Launchpad couldn’t do anything about.

Unless he stepped back, removed himself from the equation, and let Drake and Gos flourish into a happy family without him. Just like he had with the Ducks. Just like he had with his own family. 

They’d call him when they needed him, and Launchpad would always come running. 

These thoughts didn’t go away by the time Launchpad finally made his way back to St. Canard. He barely slept that long week, sitting alone in the various plane hangars or alone in various parking lots while Mr. McDee’s went to meeting after meeting.

Drake had checked in on him, because he was amazing like that, and they hadn’t seen each other in a while (sixteen days, but who was counting?). Though Launchpad bulldozed through any questions about his well-being to ask about joining Drake on patrol once he was back.

“Oh, uh, sure! Yeah, I was going to scope out the harbor next, see if I could find another one of Tuskernini’s stashes. Are you sure, though? You don’t wanna get some rest after flying all day?”

The answer would always be yes, even when his exhaustion weighed down his limbs and he shivered with fever. Launchpad couldn’t risk it; any call might be the last one.

Launchpad couldn’t risk it. There was a ticking clock in his head that he couldn’t see, but he knew the timer was winding down. Everything felt precious and finite now that he was aware of it, reminding him that no good thing could last forever, especially for someone who was never good enough to begin with. 

“Pfft, who needs sleep? I can fly a plane with my eyes closed and both hands tied behind my back.”

“I believe you, but please don’t. Gos and I want you back in one piece.”

—

When Launchpad pried his eyes open, the world around him was dark and hazy at the edges. His entire body pulsed with a bone-deep ache and his mind was foggy, thoughts harder to latch onto than loose balloon strings. But he’d been buried in an avalanche once, so he couldn’t be doing that bad, right? Comparatively? 

Although, this time he didn’t know where he was and he was too bleary-eyed to recognize anything around him. 

Had he crashed? Launchpad vaguely recalled being in the air, the grip of a familiar yoke in his hands, but that could’ve been any time in the last twenty years.

Wherever he was now, he was warm, and whatever he was laying on was soft. A bed? 

Then, above him, a light. And casting a shadow over him was a silhouette he’d recognize anywhere. 

Though Launchpad’s vision was still poor, he’d have to be blind not to admire the way the light shone pink through Drake’s feathers, always inviting Launchpad to touch. He obviously knew better but the temptation was always there.

He smiled up at Drake instinctively—there’d never be a time that he wasn’t thrilled by the sight of him—before ever noticing his expression. But then, notice he did.

Drake’s hat was missing, leaving his hair in disarray, his maskless face revealed eyes dark and narrowed with worry. The corner of his beak, where his answering smile would normally be, was pinched in a frown. 

Launchpad knew what this expression meant: danger. 

Someone was in trouble. Who? Not Drake, he didn’t look hurt other than the usual bruise here and there, and a tear in the shoulder of the suit. Definitely not Launchpad. Gosalyn? Where was Gosalyn?

Launchpad didn’t realize he’d started sitting up until Drake was pushing him back down with a hand on his shoulder, gentle but unyielding as steel. He was so much stronger than he looked, and Launchpad already thought he was the strongest man he’d ever known. 

“No one’s in trouble,” Drake soothed, and Launchpad slumped immediately in relief. Had he been talking outloud? Or did Drake just know him that well? 

“Well, except you.” 

If Launchpad had the wherewithal, he would’ve blanched at the sudden chill in the room. There was an edge to Drake’s voice he normally reserved for supervillains and people who didn’t tip. He’d never heard it directed at himself. 

Drake came closer, like he knew Launchpad’s eyesight wasn’t working too good right now. His eyes were red, as if he’d been crying. He looked so tired. 

“Wha-what happened?” Launchpad stammered in a rush. How long had he been asleep? 

He knew, instinctively, that he was the one to put that expression on Drake’s face. Even barely conscious, shame and embarrassment burned through Launchpad, a deep, deep sadness going down like a bad burrito. He was always making things worse for the people he cared about.

“You don’t remember?” Drake snapped, more desperate than angry. “You almost got yourself killed, Launchpad!”

His tired eyes were wild, and he looked like he wanted to get up and pace, throw his hands around like he did when he was frustrated, but he just gripped a fistful of Launchpad’s blankets tighter. Blankets. Bed. Launchpad was lying in Drake’s bed in the Tower.

Launchpad almost got himself killed walking out his front door sometimes, that was no big deal. But even achy and groggy, waking up in Drake’s bed had a blush flooded up Launchpad’s neck and pooled in his cheeks. He cleared his throat to distract (himself) from it. 

Launchpad struggled to sit up again. This time Drake let him. 

“I’m fine!” he insisted, voice hoarse and sleep rough. It felt as if he’d gargled with rocks. “I once fought off armed goons after getting bitten by a big pile of poisonous snakes! Or, wait, is it venomous? What is it when they bite you?”

“Venomous,” Drake confirmed weakly, hands hovering uselessly in front of him. “You really don’t remember what happened, do you?”

“I, uh…” Launchpad looked down, noticing for the first time that he was wearing pajamas. But not his. And definitely not Drake’s. “We…went on patrol?” 

Drake closed his eyes, like he was in pain. That was definitely the wrong answer. 

“We went on patrol,” he confirmed, and Launchpad almost perked up. But Drake clearly wasn’t finished. “We went on patrol to the docks, where we thought Tuskernini might be stashing some of the money from his recent string of bank robberies. And on this patrol, you conveniently forgot to mention that you had a 102 degree fever!” 

Now Launchpad was the one holding onto the blankets, his palms sweating. “S-sure. But-but we caught Tuskernini!” he recalled. 

Drake threw his hands in the air. “Yeah, at first! But he got away when you passed out and fell in the bay!”

“W-wait, what? No I didn’t.” Forget sweating, Launchpad had never been colder in his life. He didn’t remember falling in the water, but he wondered if he’d felt like he did now: sinking into pinprick darkness so frigid and so deep it stole the breath from his lungs.

“You almost drowned,” Drake pressed, eyes overly shiny (just from reflecting the bright desk lamp, Launchpad was sure). He let out a breath, scrubbing a hand over his eyes and through his hair, pushing it out of his face. “I had to let Tuskernini go when I jumped in after you. Then I radioed SHUSH for an evac and one of their doctors said you could rest here. That was about…how many hours ago now, W.A.N.D.A?”

“6.28 hours, Darkwing.” 

Drake was still in costume. Had he…waited for Launchpad to wake up? That felt like wishful thinking. 

Launchpad wasn’t the guy people worried about. Sure he got knocked around on adventures sometimes, but he always got back up, bruised and battered or otherwise. It’s what everyone expected of him. To be just good enough, until someone better came along. 

Drake sat down heavily on the side of the bed. His fire had been snuffed out, and he looked tired and lost again as he stared down at his hands. 

Launchpad watched him in profile, the ache of helpless love in his chest more painful than any tumble into icy waters.

“I just don’t get it,” Drake sighed. “Why would you take a risk like that? And why wouldn’t you tell me you were feeling that bad? Just…what were you thinking?”

If Launchpad’s ribs weren’t throbbing like they’d been used as a marimba, he might’ve laughed. 

Drake had to know. Didn’t he? That for him, Launchpad would get beat down again by every supervillain in Calisota? Give up flying, borrow a time machine and save Jim for him, all without Drake ever needing to ask. 

“DW, l…I did it for you,” Launchpad said helplessly. 

Drake stiffened, like he sometimes did when he got hurt doing something dumb and didn’t want Launchpad to know. But when he lifted his head, there was a small, anguished crease between his eyebrows Launchpad hadn’t seen since Drake fell to his knees before the fire and ruin that was Jim’s last stand. 

“For me?” he repeated slowly, as if wishing he’d heard wrong. 

Launchpad nodded a little nervously. “Y-yeah. It was my idea for you to be Darkwing, y’know? I should be able to watch your back and I didn’t wanna let you down.” Not the full truth, but good enough. Drake didn’t need to know about the countdown in his head, or how his latest stunt might’ve cut down on the time they had left together. 

Drake still looked ill at ease. He wrapped one hand around the clasp of his cape, glancing down at his costume with a furrowed brow. “I don’t want you feeling obligated to come to St. Canard,” he said stiffly and extremely un-Drakelike. “You-you don’t owe me anything, LP. I made the choice, not you.”

He and Drake had learned to speak paragraphs in only a glance, and Launchpad instantly recognized Drake’s poorly hidden (to him) anxiety for what it was. It was a fear Drake had expressed at the start, too. That Launchpad’s hero worship of Jim might extend to Drake, impair his judgment and make him blind to his flaws.

But Launchpad loved Drake for his flaws (and all the good stuff too, of course), because unlike Jim, Drake knew he had them and worked to be better. 

Launchpad’s own anxieties fell away under the strength of his certainty, his faith in his best friend. “I know. I promise, I know. I’m here for Drake, not Darkwing.” His voice still rasped, sore from his illness and impromptu dip in the bay, but his conviction was undamaged. 

And for a moment, Drake smiled, tired but relieved, and it lifted the strain from his features like taking off a veil. 

It didn’t last long, and Launchpad’s heart dropped when Drake looked away, his silence pensive. He took a breath, hands trembling in his lap.

When Drake pinned Launchpad with his stare, he was sure his heart stopped entirely.

“I don’t want you to push yourself like that. Not for me, or anyone else. I knew it was a bad idea to let you go back and forth from here to Duckburg, but I didn’t think it would almost get you killed!”

Launchpad flinched. There it was then. 

Six months wasn’t a bad run, right?

He dropped his gaze as he fiddled with his pajama sleeve, feeling awkward and out of place in Drake’s bed, Drake’s tower. He managed a wavering smile, clenching his jaw against the pesky burn of tears in the corners of his eyes. 

“Sorry, DW. I know I messed up. Just a matter of time, right? I know I’m not good enough to keep around long term, but it was fun while it lasted.”

Dead silence greeted him, like the kind before a bomb went off. He wasn’t even sure he could hear Drake’s breathing, but then Launchpad’s own heartbeat pounding in his ears was kinda distracting. 

When he glanced up, Drake was already staring at him, but he didn’t look relieved or guilty or anything like what Launchpad imagined he’d look like when Launchpad let him off the hook. He mostly looked…stunned. Like in the split second after you got hit over the head with a comically large mallet (there’d been a startling number of Quackerjack copycats since the Fearsome Four invaded their reality). 

“LP,” he managed, as confusion flooded his expression. “What are you talking about?”

Uncertainty replaced Launchpad’s earlier feeling of resignation, and he looked everywhere but at Drake. This really wasn’t how he thought things would go. “I, uh…same thing you’re talking about?”

A warm hand wrapped about Launchpad’s knuckles and his eyes shot up to Drake at once. “I was going to ask if you’d be willing to move to St. Canard,” Drake said quietly. “W-with me. No more driving back and forth.”

“Oh. That’s…I was…” Launchpad stumbled over himself like an idiot, unable to tear his eyes away from Drake’s. A sickening sort of hope was building in the back of his throat but he didn’t dare voice it. Wishful thinking, he told himself. Wishful thinking. 

But Drake’s voice was low, and so soft in its sincerity. “Launchpad. What have I done to make you think you’re not enough?” His grip around Launchpad’s hand tightened, as if someone was trying to snatch him away. 

Launchpad quailed. “Nothing! It wasn’t—it wasn’t you—”

That just seemed to upset Drake even more. Unstoppable as an incoming train, he barreled over Launchpad and left him speechless in his wake. “And what if I want to keep you around forever, huh? What if I’m always going to need you?” 

And Launchpad just…stopped. Because he couldn’t even begin to imagine what that looked like. 

He knew what to look for when people wanted him gone, whether they were subtle about it or just told him to his face to get lost. He’d receive every sort of brush-off under the sun and accepted them all with a smile. But being asked to stay? That he had no frame of reference for. 

“Why would you want that?” he asked without thinking.  

At some point, Drake had stood back up in his agitation. But he never let go of Launchpad’s hand, and though Launchpad hadn’t intended it that way, he used it to guide Drake back onto the bed beside him. 

Drake sank onto the edge with a huff, searching Launchpad’s face imploringly. 

“Because I love you,” he said, so, so easily. Like it was a well known fact that Launchpad had simply forgotten. 

This time, it was Launchpad’s grip that went tight, possibly to the point of pain, but he couldn’t even think straight enough to apologize. Or let go. 

He used to date a lot more after leaving home, looking for someone to share his life with. He’d wanted a family of his own eventually, one he could devote himself to completely, and have that love returned, for once. But while he and his old partners had plenty of fun together, none of them were the right fit. It had hurt him to leave them, and vice versa, but he’d been able to do it, and move on. But Drake?

I dunno, this whole thing sounds like it could get…

Dangerous? 

He’d known ever since he watched Drake look up, the spark of realization in his eyes catching and turning into a blaze of determination as he put Darkwing’s hat back where it belonged—he’d known that there would be no coming back from Drake. No moving on. Drake was it for him.

Launchpad had found the one person he’d been looking for almost his entire life, and he hadn’t even been searching at the time. 

And Drake was in front of him now, getting twitchy, because Launchpad had been quiet for too long. 

He exhaled in a rush, almost feeling lightheaded by the end of it. “Drake, I…I love you too. Of course I love you. How couldn’t I?” Setting the long-trapped words free, quiet and sincere, straight from his heart to Drake’s face…it had him feeling about ready to float away. 

Drake barked that short, sharp laugh of his, one of Launchpad’s favorite sounds. “Do you want the list alphabetically or numerically?” he joked, smiling a true brilliant, relieved smile that Launchpad wanted to kiss off his face. Like a shock to the system, he wondered if Drake would let him. 

He muffled a cough against his arm. 

Maybe when he wasn’t contagious anymore. 

But that seemed to be enough to remind Drake of what got them here in the first place, and he sobered a bit. 

“I’m serious about you moving to St. Canard. You can’t keep doing this to yourself, LP. Burning the candle at both ends like this…what if something happens to you and I’m not there? You shouldn’t have to deal with killer robots or venomous snakes or-or supervillains all on your own! When we’re together we can watch each other's backs, and I think we make a pretty good team.” Drake grinned wryly, but his smile soon slipped a bit, voice turning hesitant. “I don’t want to make you chose between us and your family—”

“You’re my family,” Launchpad interrupted without thinking. He immediately flushed with mortification. But a glance at Drake revealed that he was blushing just as hotly, his face pretty and pink, and failing spectacularly to hide a pleased little smile. Launchpad decided to be brave and smiled back. “You and Gos,” he said, more firmly. 

It was his turn to hesitate now. 

“But… Darkwing Duck doesn’t need a sidekick. He never did.”

Drake leaned forward. And kept leaning forward. 

Launchpad froze up when Drake pressed his temple against Launchpad’s own clammy forehead. Drake’s free hand settled on Launchpad’s chest, over his heart, and it thumped madly under his palm. 

Launchpad had just started to settle into this new embrace, one hand coming up to press tentatively against Drake’s lower back, when Drake spoke again into the short, warm distance between them. 

“Darkwing Duck isn’t real. Or, wasn’t. Not until you came along. And yeah, maybe I don’t need a sidekick. But I do want a partner.” 

“And you want…me?” Launchpad hated how small his voice sounded but everything in him was still screaming that this was all too good to be true. That he was still asleep with Drake watching over him, but no more. 

Drake’s hand on his chest tightened, gripping a fistful of fabric. “Of course, you,” he said, gentle but unwavering. “Why would I want anyone else?” 

Launchpad shrugged, flustered but unable to help himself. “You don’t want someone, I dunno…better?”

“What’s ‘better’ than the man I love?”

“I…I didn’t…when…wow. That was a really good line,” Launchpad breathed, and he laughed for the first time that night. But it felt like his first breath of fresh air in years. 

“You think so? I practiced a little, y’know, cuz I wanted to get it right, but I hoped for a more romantic setting. Some candlelight maybe, a nice sunset behind us.” Drake pushed Launchpad back onto the bed, following him down to kiss his forehead. “Now get some rest, partner, so we can work on that first date.”

[daddy-suguru]

Your works are already so good & now you have characters saying “ma”/“mama” too 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😫😫😫😫🧎‍♀️🤰🤱

My brain is about to ROT

I saw ma/mama in an Eren/black!reader fic and it hasn’t left my brain since. I’ve been obsessed! Both of us are going to rot away together! Also Thank you! I'm always trying to improve my writing and I hope that is showing :3 i wrote for my top favorite three because the brain rot compels me

✑ tags: praise, some praising degradation (toji’s), daddy (Toji’s and Suguru’s), ma/mama, begging, thigh riding, jerking Toji’s cock, pussy drunk/cock drunk, stoner!suguru smoking a little during sex, messy shot-gunning, teasing, squirting, mentions of toji cumming in reader

Satoru

Clenching Satoru, you could feel his pulse in his cock. While his tip rubs your cervix with each grind of his hips. He croons, “How badly do you need my cock, sweet mama?” Satoru needs to hear you. The way you begged for him made him feral quicker than anything else.

He could never tell you no after you sweetly begged for it. Satoru "Pleasssee!" He shakes his head and in your impatience, you rock your hips. Sliding his cock along your squishy pussy, until his fat tip is parting your lips. Pleading with him,

"I need to fuck my pussy on your long pretty cock right now Toru please, let me bounce on your cock and show you." Rocking your hips back as Satoru bites into his bottom lip. And his eyelids droop while you moan,

"You've been working all day. Let your mama take care of you. I'll show you how much I missed you by creaming on your pretty cock." Picking up your pace, the soft smacking of your ass on his hips fills with his bedroom. With the squelching of your dripping pussy.

Getting cock drunk on Satoru's cock while he groans behind you, "Please ma, mmm fuck!" Loosely grabbing your hips, guiding your pace faster. His heavy balls slap your clit with each thrust. He moans,

"My pussy sounds so good for me. Telling me how much she missed my cock." Which is sending your brain into a cock drunk haze.

With each stroke, you're becoming more desperate to feel his soft skin dragging along your pussy. With every vein puffy and prominent even inside you. As the hardness of the cock himself hitting your cervix winds the tension in your body tighter.

Grabbing your hips, rocking his hips forward to meet your thrusts back. He almost cums at the face you make. Quickly Satoru pulls out, groans,

"You missed me this much mama, your making a creamy ring around my cock." You were going to make him cum too quickly. Even though he jerked off to your pictures and videos during work. Your pussy is too damn good.

Suguru

Holding a blunt between his lips, the tip glows red as Suguru takes in a long drag. While your body flushes with heat as his dark eyes drag down the shape of your body. There is no hiding from his gaze since he bound both your wrists to his headboard.

What had started as a quick late-night, pick-up from the plug turned into another overnight stay. You had made yourself comfortable with his soap and clothes before. And by now, you know what you were doing. Forgetting your stuff with the purpose of stealing some of his clothes to wear home.

Taking the blunt from his lips, blowing out a puff of smoke. While he holds the blunt out for you to wrap your lips around. The pull you take is shaky, as Suguru confesses,

"You're the prettiest mama I've ever seen. With the sweetest, wet pussy taking me so well. I love how she's sucking me in deeper, begging for me to spill inside of her." Slowly rolling his hips, taking his time, savoring how your pussy grips his cock.

Suguru pulls the blunt away and ash-ing it out in the ashtray on the side table next to you. Before leaning down to kiss you. The smoke trickles into his mouth before he slips his tongue past your lips.

When you close your eyes at night, all you can see is Suguru. With his sweet smile, dark angular eyes, and sharp cheekbones and jawline. With a nose that's perfect for being between your legs.

You want more than just this with him. Need more.

Whining, "Daddy don't tell me that unless yourrrrnnn!" He grabs your hips, lifting them up higher off the pillow. Your upper body stays on the pillow with your wrists above your head. While your legs move, to dangle over his, as he kneels.

Slowly, with his hands on your hips, Suguru moves you in rhythm with his thrusts. The upwards curve of his cock makes him rub your sweet spot with every stroke. He taunts you with,

"Don't tell you what? That you're my sweet mama, and no one else's. I know you want to be mine, I can see it in your pretty eyes. How could I miss it when I'm memorized by every part of you?" The tension Suguru's been slowly building snaps as you gush on his cock.

Suguru leans back, watching your thick slick trickle down while splashing onto his abs. As feels you pulsing around him, Suguru admits, "I've never understood how someone could get drunk off pussy till I met you ma."

Toji

Kissing along his neck, rocking your hips on his thigh. Horny from Toji walking around naked in the apartment, his cock half hard. His fat cock swung with the way he walked. And every time Toji caught you staring, he had you give his head a kiss.

Your pussy drooled from watching him grow. Getting harder from your several open-mouthed kisses. But then he would go get a beer or go to the bathroom, leaving you wound up on purpose. Just to see how long it would take before you broke.

Two hours is all it took before you straddled his thigh. Grinding your bare pussy on him. While kissing his neck, and stroking his cock with your spit-coated fingers.

Toji points out, "You've been so needy for me, ma. It's like you're a bitch in heat, so beautiful grinding your slutty dripping pretty pussy on my thigh. Making such a mess on me mama." The stone-hard muscles rubbing your clit have spams of pleasure shooting up into your gut. And down in your curled toes.

Mumbling into his neck, "What are you going to do about it, daddy?" Dragging the tips of your nails down his chest. His cock jerks in your hand. As you swirl your fist down to his fat base, which is a darker pink than his pale tip.

Toji couldn't help but get off on the stinging pain of your nails and took pride in the pink marks you left on his pale chest. Showing him just how good a job he did, turning you into a cock drunk slut for his cock.

Swirling your thumb over his slit, smearing his thick pre-cum down the thick mushroom shape of his head. Gently squeezing just below the thick ridge, then soften your grip to slide your fist down the length of Toji's cock. Swirling your hand on the way up. While he crosses his arms behind his head.

The brawny thickness of his arms flexing catches your attention. Toji smirks and says, "I'm going to watch my gorgeous mama ride my cock till she milks it. If you want me so badly ma then you can have me any way you like."

[jrooc]

Weekly Tag Wednesssdaaayyyyyy ✨

Thanks for the tags and hosting @heymacy and tags from you wonderful cookies @mybrainismelted @transmickey @energievie @spookygingerr @gallapiech @roryonic @crestfallercanyon @mmmichyyy @deedala @ardent-fox

name: Jess or jrooc

age: 2 slices of Pie or a Nosho and a half

your time zone: EST

what do you do for work? Marketing for Tech/Saas companies

do you have any pets? My cat Lily who is my master, commander, dictator and co-dependant fur-heart of 16 years

what first drew you to this fandom? Someone suggested I watch the show when I was in a very low point and recovering from yet another surgery and then I became obsessed and went down the internet rabbit hole and here I am! The fandom was such a lovely welcoming place that felt like a warm hug and soothed my broken soul and I’ve been happy here since.

are you a morning person or a night owl? Night owl

what are your hobbies? Reading. Writing. Fandom-ing (same, Macy, same)

how tall are you? 5' 8

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live? So many places: the Bahamas? A greek island sounds great. Tulum? Turkey. Cinqo terre.

favourite color? Green

favorite book? So many. Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel.

favorite movie? Pride & Prejudice - Kiera Knightly version is what's popping up in my brain

favorite fic? Old Rules For New Side Pieces

favorite musical artist: Right now? BoyGenius and Chapell Roan or Pinegrove. All time? Rilo Kiley. Future Islands.

what is your average screen time so far this week? 3hrs 59min

what's the first app you open in the morning? Discord to say hi to pocket friends and see the euro/aussie chatter I missed overnight.

how long have you been on tumblr? 1 year in June

finally (and i know this one is hard) tell me a fun fact about yourself: Ummm… My fun facts are boring. I’m a road cycling dork. I’ve recently been into Greek wines. And I can be a bit of a dick but I swear I don’t mean it I just forget that saying everything that comes to my brain sometimes comes out in asshole. I say things with force but I’m actually quite flexible!

Tags below the fold (there’s a tumblr tag issue so sorry if this breaks- also why the tags are spaced weird lol)

@lee-ow pat pat pat @sgtmickeyslaughter @astaraels @guinguin1984 @suzy-queued

@mickeysgaymom @heymrspatel @gallavichsuperfan @rayrayor @bawlbrayker

@look-i-love-u @redwiccanrobin @sillygoofygoobersstuff @krysmiss

@spoonfulstar @doshiart @too-schoolforcool @creepkinginc @ian-galagher

@such-a-barbarian @blue-disco-lights @francesrose3 @ms-moonlight-inn @notherenewjersey

[teacupsandcyanide]

I'm not usually one to post stuff like this but I would so appreciate anyone having a look at this and donating just a bit if you have something to spare, or of course reblogging. We all know Covid has not disappeared for people living in marginalised communities, but there are many that are also still severely impacted by diseases brought to them by colonisation. The Kalam are one such group where TB, Covid, influenza, and other diseases are killing people at an alarming rate due to lack of medical aid.

'Every time I answer the phone I hear about another person who is sick or is dying and how there is no medicine to help.'

The GoFundMe currently has only $220 of the $10k target needed to set up a clinic to diagnose and treat TB, including building a structure for health workers to rest in overnight, running a TB education program, and most importantly obtaining medicine, which is frighteningly scarce.

I've been working as an editor for the last three and a half months on a thesis written by Inge, who is running this campaign. It's been fascinating work and Inge has given me permission to talk about some bits of it – it covers a lot of things that she observed while living with the Kalam in the 70s and features a lot of people who became family to her. The thesis focuses on some dark things but the people are larger than life, and talking about them I will probably make my silly little joke posts, but I want to pin this in the hopes that my silly little joke posts will do something to help the children and children's children of the people I have read about during this thesis. Also I just happen to be of the opnion that everyone deserves basic medical care.

If you came to this blog because of a silly little LOTR post or a silly little DGHDA post that gave you a little chuckle, it would mean so much to me if you shared whatever you have to spare, whether that's a reblog or a small donation. Thanks <3

[aria-ashryver]

Welcome To The Jungle | Choices MC Colony | Episode #4

Dorian: so, just to recap: a nearby settlement hired a PI to investigate whether a neighbouring faction of theirs were actually cannibals -- turns out they are, and now that PI is running for her life and needs our help? Rin: That's pretty much what I picked up over the comms, yeah Marianna: Seven pirate raiders from the Venom Chokers Daenarya: Oh, hey I know those guys! Yeeeeah, yeah they'll eat you. Brienne: Some of them also spit fire. Luca: Sorry-- they spit what, now? Anitha: We're helping her, right? Dorian: …Us versus seven angry, fire-spitting, cannibal raiders? Oliver: Yes, we are helping. Dorian: Yeah, totally! Nothing about that sentence is terrifying! Luca: snorts Rin: …chicken. Dorian: I'm not scared. Marianna: Yes, you are. Dorian: Shush.

Aaaahhhhh oh god everything is fine aaahhh

Good news! Carina is safe and (mostly) well! And since we did such an excellent job on the rescue mission (and were sooooo brave and not at all terrified) she's decided to join us for good.

Welcome to the Jungle, @stars-are-within-me's Carina 💖👋 Lovely to have you aboard

[LINK] - Episode 3.5 (ask) - a little overview of the base so far!

Okay, welcome to Episode #4, folks. Its been an exciting few weeks of raids, illnesses, and wild animal attacks, so I think our MCs are due a nice period of calm to relax, take stock, build up our base, and enjoy the bonds of friendship.

ok so we took stock, the stocks aren't great.

Turns out doubling your colony size overnight really hits you in the food department! Who knew. Fortunately, we do have some folks who know a thing or two about crops and gardening, so we've now got two thriving farms, as well as some chickens (Wilbur and Clementine) and our new cow (Tallulah) who we traded some nomads for.

omg the baby chicks are sleeping in the hay that's so cute 😭

(also, something weird happened and all of our crops were turned into strawberries for like a week before I noticed? We had to replant everything lmao. Idk who was behind that one)

Its been nice to just see folks bonding and chatting about stuff while they work too 😊 At the moment, Evie and Luca are the OG colony besties - Evie helps Luca with their building projects quite a bit, so they have lots of time for Top Notch banter. Clearly.

Luca: *ADHD-fuelled rambling* Evie: yeah, i like this one he's weird

Some of the other colonists are finding comfort in each other in this harsh and unforgiving jungle too 👀 A few situationships have started to crop up here and there?? (and I find it utterly hilarious that once again, its mostly the Blades MCs who are Blades MC-ing)

IMPORTANT NOTE: If you want to change/update any of these settings (bc I'm limiting things like lovers and marriage, etc at the moment), just let me know! [Here is a link] to current sprite stats!

Luca and Oliver have both been flirting a lot lately, so I feel like they might the next two to become a thing lol.

Luca: Great party, Oliver! Just what we needed after getting attacked by cannibals. That was crazy, right? Oliver: Yeah, that raid was a nail-biter. Ha, good thing no one else got bitten though. Luca: …You could bite me. Oliver: … Luca: If you want. You seem broad-minded. Oliver: ...what? Luca: what?

Speaking of biting people (apt segue is apt); a group of vampires have asked if they could host a coven meeting at Cedar Station! (They'll pay us with books!! Fuck yeahhhh books!)

Ricky, stop interrupting the coven meeting. Read the room. It's full of purple smoke and spooky spectral demon eyes.

One of them liked Cedar Station so much, she decided to stay! Cameron? Sergio? No, we used aliases. It's Jiahao. Yes, my cape is amazing.

Welcome to the Jungle, @choicesmc's Jia!! ✨ (I've never had a vampire colonist before, I'm hyped)

Ooh, and right on the heels of this! A roaming caravan of hunters and traders passed by the colony (and enjoyed the seaside for a little bit lol) -- and one of the guards who had been helping herd and protect their animals decided to stick around too!

Welcome to the Jungle, @dutifullynuttywitch's Autumn!! *wipes tear* our lil family keeps growing 🥹

I'm so glad this has just been a period of relaxing and making new friends. I'm really enjoying this calm. Surely nothing bad will happen, right?

Surely nothing bad will--

Surely nothing--

*grits teeth* Surely nothing bad will--

SEVENTEEN MAN-EATING MONKEYS???????

Guys please not now, do you not see us hiding from the swarm of angry monkeys??? 😭😭😭

ok no, we can always make time for humanitarian aid. We were sooo brave and fought off enough monkeys so Marianna and Oliver could sneak away and donate money to *checks notes*: Norma Rubivine the child brawler who is very good at mining despite being only 7 years old because she is a Dirtmole.

(me, crying: Norma come back and hhelp me w the monkeys. Please. Norma.)

Surely nothing bad will hap--

Surely nothing-- AGAIN with the insects???

(*through tears*) Surely nothing bad will--

Aaahhhh ow ow ow almost everyone is downed we have run out of hospital beds aahhhh

So uhhh. Let me end this episode by saying: Dorians arm got cut off by raiders and he almost bled to death and I felt really bad so I made him mayor.

🎉🎊🎉

Thank you once again for letting me borrow your darlings @dr-colossal-pita @choicesmc @rosesnink @stars-are-within-me @lover-also-fighter-also @cadybear420 @storyofmychoices @dutifullynuttywitch ✨✨✨

[canichangemyblogname]

Not star wars girlies on TikTok saying they PREFER the white-washed clones and justifying their appearance with "They grew up on a planet with lots of rain and little sun and always wear helmets." "Well, actually," 🤓☝️ "white skin developed due to a lack of sunlight, and clones don't get much sunlight."

NOT OVERNIGHT YOU 🤡. If a black or brown person moves to the UK where it's cloudy and rainy, they don't just suddenly become white. Your logic isn't logic-ing. This argument is wildly absurd.

[alicentsgf]

I want to like Rhaenicent but I feel like Alicent protects Rhaenyra and cares for her way more than Rhaenyra does for her. Adult Rhaenicent seems rather one sided to me ngl. One way Rhaenyra betrayed Alicent was by marrying Daemon, a man who absolutely despises the Hightowers and who wouldn’t hesitate to slaughter Alicent’s children. Does Rhaenyra really not realize how ruthless Daemon is? Daemon is arguably the biggest threat to the Green kids who are Rhaenyra’s own siblings. It just kills me that Alicent stood up to her abuser for Rhaenyra’s life in 1x09 and Rhaenyra has never done anything of that severity for Alicent. And Rhaenyra will likely never know how much Alicent fought to save her. Idk, I just feel like Alicent deserves someone who will love her completely. I can’t see Rhaenyra being that person with the way she’s disregarded Alicent’s worries and feelings.

I'm going to be totally honest and I say this with love... a lot of it becomes easily justifiable for me when i acknowledge that Rhaenyra is just a bit dense. like shes always been sheltered and naive, to the point of genuine stupidity sometimes. she isnt inherently so but her father stomped all over her developing any kind of critical mind early on and she did nothing to overcome that mistake. she became far too comfortable with Viserys waving his crown and magic-ing her problems away and its just a fact shes never managed to see things from alicents perspective... but that doesnt mean alicent isnt as equally important to her as she is to alicent. please bear with me because i promise i will explain this fully.

but first of all, to answer your question 'does rhaenyra not realise how ruthless daemon is?' I mean, giving her the benefit of the doubt ...maybe not? shes pretty much always always seen the best side of daemon. with viserys. with her. with their children. what does she know of daemons genuine ruthlessness? we cant say for sure. once again, giving her the full benefit of the doubt, we dont even know if rhaenyras aware that daemon murdered rhea. like daemons not exactly gonna bring it up and who else would dare suggest that to her of all people? sure shes seen him fight at tourneys she knows hes capable of killing but thats a controlled enviroment where its expected. and she clearly feels safe enough with him personally otherwise she wouldnt have laughed in his face after her grabbed her neck.

its going to be very interesting to see what they do with B&C for this reason. because if rhaenyra isnt involved, at least in the Details... will she be shocked by what daemon is capable of? depends on what version of rhaenyra we get post-luke i suppose. but i dont know if i believe they're likely to have her go That dark so quickly that she'd agree to B&C. (sorry. tangent.)

imo you have to try and see her perspective - rhaenyra is deeply Confused. she thought for many years alicent just suddenly Hated her on the basis of her /loose morals/, like purely hated her, the girl she loved is Gone overnight right when they'd begun to reconcile, and she couldnt really understand why. she just does not understand alicents perspective and she cant begin to fathom alicents situation. and in a way, how could she? shes never faced similar limitations theres an argument to be made she wouldnt be able to even conceptualise it without alicent taking her by the hand and walking her through it. even when they were friends i doubt rhaenyra thought about the privileges she held over alicent (after all, she was a child, it was just what she knew and as far as she could see alicent got to do everything she did so there was no visual imbalance). from rhaenyras point of view, all those years alicent was being unnecessarily antagonistic over something that didnt effect her. this girl she loved and in rhaenyras eyes she is betraying her again and again and again. and rhaenyra thought all that because she couldnt see the bigger picture. how could she begin to understand 'alicent fears what my reign could mean for her children' when viserys actively disencouraged her political interest - her opinion on that point would likely only be 'well obviously i would make sure nothing happened to them', not understanding that That isnt the reassurance she thinks it is.

so yeah. rhaenyra truly doesnt understand what went on or whats going on. but alicent Does (and this imbalance is perfectly demonstrated by the dialogue in the knife scene because, lets be honest, alicent pins down the situation and how rhaenyra fits into it kind of perfectly... whereas rhaenyra incorrectly attributes alicents rage to 'righteousness', not fear.). and personally i think thats why it seems unbalanced or one sided, especially in episode 8. alicent could afford to be genuine, rhaenyra isnt hard to read, whereas rhaenyra still had her guard up because she was just so fucking confused lmao. she briefly saw the gentle, beautiful, kind girl she was in love with in alicents treatment of a dying viserys at the dinner table - and upon realising alicent actually Does still have that side to her rhaenyra doesnt know what to do except subtlety apologise for perhaps not truly Seeing alicent and for accusing her of trying to harm viserys. she thought the alicent she knew was long dead until that moment - the girl has got emotional whiplash. so its not that rhaenyra loves alicent less. her reactions in episode 10 make it very clear there is still A Lot going on there for her (and we know emma d'arcy's pov on it was that rhaenyra genuinely considers conceding the throne with the hope of alicent 'taking her back'). shes just very very Very muddled about whether the current version of alicent is Still the person she loves...

and i think maybe 'love' is the wrong word for what they have when theres so much piled on top but its definitely a devotion. its this constant need to reconcile and be close that they just cant shake because a part of them will always desire the other.

tl;dr rhaenyra is just... kinda dumb god bless. and their imbalance is in their ability to understand the situation, not in the amount of love thats held.

(besides they were never exactly going to be a healthy equal deserving love thats not the point of them imo. they are a missed opportunity. a greek tragedy. starcrossed lovers. etc)

[fuckyeahizzyhands]

Con: I think the show deserves a season three whether I'm involved in it or not. It was always David's dream to make three seasons. I would be gutted for him if season three didn't happen. As far as Izzy being involved, that's entirely up to David Jenkins.

Screen Rant: I did some Googling, and I found articles. One of them was titled “Our Flag Means Death Season Two's Best Character Isn’t Who You Think”, and it was talking about Izzy. The other one was “Izzy Hands is the Real Star of Our Flag Means Death Season Two”. Those were both headlines I found. What was it like to find out what Izzy’s journey this season was going to be? It’s had such an impact on so many people.

Con O’Neill: David and I spoke about it quite a lot before we shot, about the redemptive qualities, and I was delighted that we didn't suddenly turn him into a saint overnight. I was delighted that the redemption was complicated and layered, and I don't feel that Izzy disappears in any of it. I think he's very much who he always was, but with slightly more of an open soul. I was so grateful to David and the writers for creating an arc that was playable rather than Hollywood-ized and too easy. It was challenging; it was a very, very lonely shoot for me. I found myself gravitating towards my own company most of the time, mainly because of the hours. And, because if I wasn’t shooting, I was learning to walk on that f***ing leg. If I wasn’t doing that, I was sword training, and if I wasn’t doing that, I was body training, and if I wasn’t doing that, I was recording a song in French. So, I was busy. Our group is a group of beautiful people, and we would meet every Sunday for lunch. Christine used to arrange that. I found myself initially quite hesitant to join that, because it felt like I had this weight on my shoulders, certainly for the first four episodes. I loved it as an actor. I found it really challenging as a man on his own in New Zealand, where it rains [a lot].

Screen Rant: I'm a music nerd, and kind of a musical theater nerd; my favorite episode of this is the one where you're singing in it. I love those sequences so much, your voice is insane, and it's such a good character moment. How did the decision to make that happen—singing, and specifically that song--come about? Did they write that for you because they knew you were a singer?

Con O’Neill: We’re all walking around backstage, telling jokes, playing music, and singing; that’s just what happens when you shoot a show. David called me up while I was in Wellington. I was in Wellington for a week shooting something else. He called me up and he asked me if I knew “La vie en rose”; I knew it, vaguely, but I don't speak French at all. Then, he mentioned that they wanted to do it in an episode. So, I learned the English version, Dean Martin’s version, and then they asked me if I could learn the French version. I don't speak a word of French, not a word, but my partner does, and I had a friend who just played Edith Piaf piano—Jenna (Russell)--and between the two of them, they taught me the French version of the song. If somebody had asked me prior to this, “What song would Izzy sing?” “La vie en rose” would never have entered my head. And now, there's no other song that fits. That's the genius of David. David's very clever with music. We know that--we’ve all experienced how clever he is—but to pick that song for him, at that point in his life? Yeah. F***ing hell. That was genius.

Screen Rant: Your character died this season. How far in advance did you know that, and did that affect how you approached or thought about the season?

Con O’Neill: No. I mean, to be honest, I felt it was going that way. I've been around a long time, and when a character starts this kind of arc, especially in something as interesting as our show is… When David took me out for dinner, I kind of thought this was where it was going, and, partly, I was relieved. I'm not an actor who likes to just repeat, repeat, repeat, repeat, repeat. And, I knew that Ed and Stede were going to end up together at the end of this season, so Izzy, as he stands, wouldn't make any sense to still be there. So, it was a relief that the decision was being made. I was a bit upset because I love playing him, but leave them wanting more, you know? I will be eternally grateful for what they gave me; how they played him out in the show. The beautiful speech they gave me, the opportunity to do “La vie en rose”, and the opportunity to die in Taika’s arms and to be able to honor that relationship… I couldn't have asked for a better play-off, really.

Screen Rant: This season did introduce, with the Gravy Basket, the potential for someone who has passed on to return. If there was a season three, do you think your character would have anything else to impart on Stede or Blackbeard in a similar scenario?

Con O’Neill: You’d have to ask David Jenkins. I don't know where David wants to take it, and I wouldn't preempt that with me making up stories for Izzy in a flashback or ghostie Izzy, or whatever. I have no idea where David wants season three to go. I think the show deserves a season three whether I'm involved in it or not. It was always David's dream to make three seasons. I would be gutted for him if season three didn't happen. As far as Izzy being involved, that's entirely up to David Jenkins.

Screen Rant: So much of this season and Izzy’s journey is his relationship with Edward and his love for Edward, and so much of the conflict is about how much Edward is changing. Did you have an understanding of what version of Blackbeard, or Edward, that Izzy was looking for, and wanting to be around?

Con O’Neill: That’s a great f***ing question. Between season one and season two, in the interim, Izzy experiences a broken Blackbeard, and a Blackbeard that's never going to go back to what he was, because he's heartbroken. Everyone who's been heartbroken knows that you never go back to who [you] were. He just wants to fix Blackbeard. That's why he takes his life in his hands by confronting Blackbeard; he just wants Blackbeard to be fixed, to find his soul again, [and] to find his heart again. Whether he's involved in that is not relevant. What's relevant is, he loves Blackbeard so much that he wants him to find himself again. So, it's never Izzy’s version of Blackbeard that Izzy’s looking for. He's looking for Blackbeard to find himself again, and that's only through Stede.

Screen Rant: I was looking up the real-life Izzy Hands, who testified against allies to get a pardon and supposedly died a beggar in the streets of London years later. Would you have been interested in that, dramatically, if that was how his story ended on the show?

Con O’Neill: No, that's not our show. We're not historically [accurate to] those times. If we were, they wouldn’t have cast a guy who is 50 to play a 16-year-old pirate. I don't know. I'd love to be able to tell you what area that season three, if it ever happens, would go, but I literally have no idea. I don't think we're going to go down the historical route. I’d be very surprised if we do that.

Screen Rant: I don’t know if you’ll have an answer for me, but I saw that you initially auditioned for a different role. I love Taika so much; I feel like you would have also made a great Blackbeard. Is that who you were going for, initially?

Con O’Neill: Absolutely not, but thank you for saying that. I don’t see anyone else as Blackbeard but Taika. When Taika was announced, I knew what our show was. But no, it wasn’t Blackbeard. And no, I’m not going to tell you.

Screen Rant: Okay. Perfect. Well, clearly it all worked out for the best. I mean, you're incredible, and the whole cast is so perfect in their roles. It's been a pleasure to watch you and… yeah, congrats on the show.

Con O’Neill: Thank you so much.

[redwolf17]

Cake-pocalypse: Return of the Frosting-ing

Some of you may recall I've mentioned being busy with a cake-pocalypse. Well, here's the end result. I made both of these cakes, from scratch, for my parents' 50th anniversary party last weekend. Now that it's over, I thought it'd be fun to do a post about it, because while there's tons of popular baking shows, it's not a topic everyone necessarily knows about.

So, what goes into making cake for approximately 100 people?

Step 1) Baking the wedding cakes

A) The tiered cake was based on a photo of my parents' original wedding cake. To replicate it, I needed four tiers of vanilla cake, which meant eight layers of cake, two for each tier.

Fun fact: I learned how to bake from my mom, who is a talented home baker. I made my first cake by myself at age 9, and then gradually expanded my skills through years of practice. And when I say my mom is talented, I mean it; she's made wedding cakes for at least half a dozen friends and family over the years. It was only right that I use my mom's favorite wedding cake recipe for the batter; I think I ended up using 6 batches to make all the tiers, plus 2 dozen cupcakes to use up extra batter.

B) Once the cakes had cooled, I wrapped them in plastic wrap and put them in the freezer overnight. This firms up the cake's "crumb" or structure, making it easier to work with. By this point, it was late Sunday night; baking the cakes had taken almost all day. What with work and errands, I didn't resume work on the cakes until Thursday night. After partially thawing the cakes, I leveled each one by cutting off the tops where the cake had domed. This is a crucial step to make sure the cakes will stack properly; you don't want them tilting or toppling over.

C) Now that the cakes are leveled, they need their base coat of frosting. I used SO MUCH buttercream for these cakes CRY The trick is to frost them while they're still cold from the freezer, so the crumbs don't get into the frosting as much. Even so, every cake needed two coats of frosting, first the crumb coat, then, after a trip back to the freezer to set the frosting, a second coat to hide the crumbs stuck in the first coat. At this point, I was done (for now) with the wedding cakes, because I was NOT going to try to transport a completed four tier cake, which meant I couldn't stack/decorate them until the day of the party.

Step 2) Making the sheet cake

A) My entire day Saturday was spent baking, and it began with making the 12x18 chocolate sheetcake. It took three batches of cake batter; my favorite chocolate cake recipe is from Sally's Baking Addiction. I used the sour cream version, which is sturdier and thus would hopefully travel better.

B) Once the cake was baked, it took a loooong time to cool. You NEVER frost a warm cake, because the icing will melt and make a huge mess. Side note, this cream cheese frosting recipe is the best I've ever seen, and the coffee version I made by adding espresso powder turned out delicious.

C) After carefully chilling the cake in the fridge (it barely fit), I covered the entire cake with a chocolate glaze. The combination of chocolate cake + coffee cream cheese frosting + glaze comes from the Yule logs my mom makes every year, and which my dad and the rest of my family really love.

D) I draw a lot of practice grids and decoration ideas when I was first planning the cakes. I ended up deciding to do a pattern of frosting swirls with espresso beans, plus piping the message in the center. Since it is VERY hard to fix fuck ups, I practiced my calligraphy and my balloons on a piece of parchment paper before I put a piping bag anywhere near the cake. Once the buttercream had set, I painted it with a mixture of edible gold-colored pearl dust and vodka. Amazing stuff, a friend who has a home bakery recommended it. It was around 1am when the chocolate cake was done, and went back in the fridge to keep safe until the next day.

Step 3) Piping roses

While the chocolate cake was baking and cooling, it was time to work on decorations for the wedding cake. Buttercream roses are a pain in the ass, but since the original cake had them, this cake needed them too. Bless my niece, who served as my assistant for about 3 hours. My initial attempts at dyeing the frosting came out way too garish, but she tweaked them into the lovely shades of crimson and green you see here. She also held the flower nail so I could make my first 20 or so attempts at the roses using the Wilton technique. The buttercream was NOT cooperating at first; we had to add more powdered sugar to stiffen it, and then we had to keep putting the piping bags in and out of the fridge to get them to just the right consistency for piping. After my niece left, my bf held the flower nail for another 30+ roses. My hand and my arm were killing me by the end, but I was really worried about not having enough to cover the cake. Also, more practice meant better roses.

Step 4) Assembling the tiered cake

A) Sunday morning was D-Day. We got to the venue 3 hours early because I knew I'd need every minute to assemble and decorate the tiered cake. Each tier sits on a cardboard cake board, but that's not enough support. To counteract the inevitable peril of gravity, the center of each tier is filled with straws. These hold up the tiers above so they don't smush the cake below.

B) Once the tiers were stacked, I piped a swirl of vines, as close to the original cake as I could manage.

C) Then, very, very carefully, I stuck the buttercream roses on using a dab of fresh frosting. You have to work quickly; the buttercream roses are firm when you first take them out of the freezer or fridge, which means you can pick them up, but if you take too long, your fingers will melt the petals. I was terrified about placing roses on the vertical sides of the cake, but thank god, none of them fell off. Once the roses were in place, I added leaves to the vines and beneath the roses.

D) A close up of the final result. I finished literally 1 minute before the party was supposed to start, at which point I had to carry this from the venue's kitchen to the table where it would sit; my bf went in front of me to shoo people out of the way.

Step 5) Dealing with leftovers

a) Oh god, leftovers! The chocolate cake got demolished, as did the vanilla cake, once we sent some slices home, but there were still leftovers. Why? Because the way a tiered cake is served, you cut slices from the outside ring, but NOT from the center round which is stuffed full of straws. So... what to do with all that extra cake?

b) Well, if you pull the straws out and re-frost, then you've got three perfectly nice cakes. I already had plenty of extra frosting and roses, lol. My students were quite happy to take all this cake off my hands, though I only had enough slices for the first half of my classes.

c) However, I also still had SIX CUPS of cake crumbs from the offcuts which I'd cut off the cakes when I leveled them. Crumbs + frosting+ a dip in chocolate = cake pops! Massive, massive cake pops, lol, I used my biggest cookie scoop. The second half of my classes got these beauties, and a couple coworkers finished off the extras.

And that's it! God willing I won't make a cake again for quite a while, lol, this was exhausting.

[dr-demi-bee]

We're at War: the Wizard and the Commander

Chapter 3

Edited and live! Plot and drama heavy today. >:D Keeping the frenemies frenemy-ing, plus new nefarious actors appear! Good stuff ahead - pining, tension, and more coming in chapter 4.

Frenemies -> Lovers ~ Royal Court AU ~ Knight x Noble

Pairing: Gale x f!Tav - NSFW

Word Count: 4k (chap 3; total 18k)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Summary:

Tension brews overnight and into the morning council meeting. More is sure to follow…. Will Miri and Gale be able to work together against mounting threats to the kingdom of Baldur's Gate? Will they ever realize how deep their affections go for one another?

-----------------------Read on A03-------------------------

Night rotations, normally quiet and uneventful, were one irritation after the next. Hole in the wall. Wyvern outside the wall. Sleeping guards. Lost cat.

And all of it took so gods damned long she didn’t even get a chance to return to her chambers to clean her armor of the wyvern’s blood. By the time Miri strides into the council room in the morning it's all she can do to not be openly growling. The sooner this gods forsaken waste of time is over the sooner she can get something to eat.

Gale, for once, was up early that morning. His normally slightly tousled hair is properly brushed, and his robes are free of wrinkles. Despite being as early as the Gods can allow on an Uktar morning, he looks the definition of professionalism. A incredibly rare feat for him in any season, notorious night owl that he is.

He glances at Miri as she enters, immediately noticing the tightness of her body language and the scowl upon her face. He groans internally at the sight, knowing the meeting is going to involve yelling today.

She takes up her usual position at the table, to the King's left and across from Gale, and plants her feet on guard and crosses her arms. Gale sighs, shaking his head slightly.

Miri has to fight back another growl in return. No one else in council yet, and of all people Gale is first in.

Of course he's early. And chipper.

Gale shifts slightly, glancing at the King’s empty seat.

“His majesty hasn’t arrived yet, it would seem,” he says aloud, attempting to relieve some of the tension in the air. When she remains silent, he pauses, noticing her deadpan gaze as he glances back at her.

“You seem unusually on edge this morning, Miri. Did the night patrol wear you out that badly?” He teases lightly, hoping to draw a smile from her. She scowls instead. Great.

"Not all of us can get a peaceful night's sleep," she grits, "Some of us have to maintain the peace."

Gale tsks as he gazes at Miri’s scowling face, the gesture more playful than chastising. He lets out a soft chuckle, crossing his arms in kind.

“Well, I was going to offer to make you a cup of tea, or coffee, perhaps even some fresh hot cocoa. But if you’re planning on being nasty this morning, I think I’ll keep them for myself,” he teases back, a coy smirk on his lips.

And he regrets it immediately, feeling the full weight of her ire swinging fully to him.

Miri huffs. That fucking smirk.

"Do me a useful favor, and look into why a wyvern was able to cross through your barriers outside the walls."

Gale groans with frustration. Nothing is quite as irksome as hearing about a failure of his magic. He created the barriers for the city; the very reason they are safe from attack.

“Please. Do not tell me that it was a full-grown adult,” he sighs in reply, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"More than a juvenile," she retorts. Miri holds up her hands to show the singed holes in the fabric of her gauntlets with irritation. The holes draw an immediate wince from him.

He scowls as he looks closer at the damage. The ragged holes suggest a too close encounter with the swing of a poisonous tail. Miri was up close and personal with the wyvern while it was still alive. She could’ve been grievously injured or killed trying to slay it.

Gale’s voice is dripping with irritation and anger as he replies.

“And where in the Hells were the archers stationed on the wall? Were all of them sleeping?”

"Some of them," Miri grits with further annoyance, her teeth slightly bared. "They have been dealt with already."

He sighs loudly, pinching and rubbing the bridge of his nose. Gods above, please let this day get better, he prays. He stares at Miri’s teeth for a moment longer, before looking back up into her furious emerald eyes.

“And what kind of state are the barriers in now, now that it’s flown through them?” he inquires tersely, bracing his hands against the table in front of him.

"Not my job," Miri snipes back.

Gale’s eyes narrow, his frustration mounting and starting to dominate his demeaner. He had hoped their...encounter last night would have done something to soothe these tensions. But that was apparently wishful thinking.

“Oh?” His voice is still composed, and he attempts to control it, but his next words still have a bite to them, “So it’s your job to make sure the archers are awake, but it’s not your job to inform the mage when the barriers he created were broken? Do I understand your meaning, Commander?”

"I have just informed you, mage." Miri’s gaze may as well be the wyvern’s. He glares back at her as she snaps the title back at him.

“And just how hard would it have been to send word, instead of waiting until the morning?” He tries to control his tone, but his voice raises slightly in volume. “Do you have any idea how much stress it puts the barrier if there’s a breach like that?”

Miri growls in earnest. Of course he would try to find a way to make it her fault. As if she should be aware of everything and have the time to catalog and take care of all of it. Gods, her armor still reeks of the thing's blood. She doesn't have time for his bullshit.

She presses her fists against the table and leans forward towards him, showing teeth in full. Her voice is dark with a menace she cannot restrain when she replies.

"Do I look like I have time to do your duties for you?"

He scoffs loudly at her response, taking a subtle step forward. This isn’t the first time they’ve argued and surely won’t be the last. But her frustration and flagrant disrespect infuriates him. Condescending to him like a boy. Again!

“Oh, wonderful. Well since you’re not too busy Knight Commander, then surely you have time to go to the academy and learn how to weave the spells for the barriers around the city!” Gale hisses back acidly. “Oh wait, you can’t.”

"Perhaps we should send you back to the academy," Miri growls back, "So you can relearn how to do it?"

Her voice finally starts to raise with her ire. "Or would you prefer to be the one on the field with the sword and the wyvern?"

Gale lets out a loud huff of frustration and rolls his eyes. His voice escalates to a yell. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to create barriers over an entire city?”

"I do not care. That is your duty," she snarls.

They’re both shouting now, leaning over the war table far enough their faces are only a foot apart. Miri’s teeth are bared in a sneer and her eyes are wild. Gale’s eyes are narrowed into thin slits beneath dark brows and his hands are balled into fists. The only thing stopping this from escalating further is the table keeping them at bay.

He also knows full well that she would win the fight.

King Ravenguard enters the council room, the towering tiefling of his guard captain following after. He sighs when he notes the two of them already at one another's throats.

"Enough! Is it too much to ask for the two of you to get along for one morning?" He asks with a weary voice.

Gale stiffens at the sound of the king’s voice. Miri snaps to attention when he enters the room, ramrod straight, but her glower is not tempered in the least as she stares Gale down.

Miri moves fist over heart and turns towards the king as he assumes his place at the head of the table.

"You grace," she greets.

Gale takes a small step back from the table and bows his head in greeting, his words coming out through clenched teeth.

“I apologize, your majesty. I fear that some… miscommunication between us has led to heated words,” he says, trying hard not to glare back at Miri.

The young king sighs and shakes his head, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair.

“Is this about the barriers again?” he inquires, his mismatched gaze moving between the two. “That blasted wyvern didn’t manage to cause any damage in the city?”

"None, your grace," Miri returns, clasping her hands behind her back. "The wyvern entered just past the harbor and was headed straight for the palace. It was neutralized outside of the walls without casualty."

The King nods in acknowledgment at the information, tilting his head as his brow furrows.

“Did you have word on the reasoning for the attack? Anything that would draw the wyvern towards us?” he inquires, turning to Gale.

“It is… unnerving to learn that the wyvern got through unharmed at all,” he admits. Gale glances back towards Miri, his jaw clenching. Miri holds his gaze with an ice cold glare. “I only just learned of it. I have yet to hear of any cause for the attack, however the timing seems too convenient to be mere chance.”

"The wyvern was not yet full grown," Miri adds, turning her gaze back to Ravenguard, "It seems atypical behavior to my knowledge, even for an adolescent. We may benefit from contacting the Archdruid Halsin to see if any other unusual activity is occurring in the wilds outside the city."

King Ravenguard strokes his chin idly in thought as he nods in agreement.

“I’ll send word Halsin,” he replies, turning towards his own guard captain. Captain Karlach, standing just behind his chair, leans closer to listen. “Captain, please send a missive to the Archdruid asking for a meeting.”

The captain nods silently in reply and leaves the room in search of a messenger bird. The King turns back towards the two after the captain has left.

“Any other updates?”

"There’s a breach in the Northwest quadrant of the outer walls," Miri reports, touching a finger to the war map on the table to indicate the general location. "It doesn’t seem to be related to structural failing or aging masonry. I‘ve stationed an extra patrol in the area for now, but I suspect a potential Banite infiltration attempt."

The king gives Miri a stern, disapproving look at the news, his arms crossing as he leans back in his chair.

“And are you sure this wasn’t a result of the wyvern’s attack?” King Ravenguard asks, his tone indicating that he already suspects the answer.

"It was unrelated, your grace," she replies smoothly, moving her finger on the map to where the wyvern was encountered on the opposite side of the castle. "The wyvern did not make it past this line."

The king lets out a loud grumble at the update, leaning back in his chair as his gaze moves to Gale.

“So we have no idea who is responsible?” he inquires frustratedly.

Gale’s gaze roams across the illustration of the palace, the irritation returning to his features as he places contemplative finger against the map.

“No. But it is awfully convenient for the Banite Order that a breach in the wall happens just as a wyvern attacks the city. Their agents are scattered throughout the Gate, so it would, conceivably, not be too difficult for them to find and exploit a weak spot,” he replies, his voice cold.

"I would agree. This does seem too convenient." Miri nods. She turns her gaze to the Grand Duke of Baldur’s Gate standing beside Gale. "Lord Gortash, are you able to direct any forces to investigation?"

The duke gives Miri a thin smile, his gaze shifting between her and Gale. He steps forward just a few inches as he raises his chin, looking down his nose at her.

“The Flaming Fists are at the ready to conduct any and all investigations needed, Commander,” he replies smoothly. His tone is perfectly polite, yet there is ire just beneath the surface. An undertone of condescension and dislike for the knight commander.

Miri scowls at the duke’s thinly veiled disdain. Typical. Arrogant noble with no respect for a woman and less for a lythari. Nevermind the fact that she's been an officer in the Gate's knightage since before he was even born. Since her promotion, not an interaction has gone by without him trying to prod at her.

"Good. We need to identify possible insurgents.” She waves a hand in confirmation that it should be done. “Please proceed post haste, and send a messenger with any updates as you have them."

“As you wish, Commander.” Duke Gortash offers a leering, ichorous smile back. He is clearly mocking her even while following her commands and it just infuriates her more.

“I shall call a squadron of twenty at once, and they will begin questioning by nightfall,” he adds with a courteous bow.

She nods curtly in recognition, but her predatory eyes never leave his form as she assess the man. Watches the reedy filtering of his pulse beneath his pallid skin. The duke stares back at her for a few moments more, a challenging glint in his eyes. He is obviously trying to force a reaction out of her, no matter what the cost.

With concentrated effort she turns her eyes back to the map on the table.

“Is there anything else you need from me, Commander?” Gortash inquires, his voice dripping with contempt. Her eyes snap up to him again at his insolence.

"No." She responds tersely.

He gives her another thin smile, holding her gaze for a moment longer before he gives a mocking bow.

“Well, if there is anything else, do let me know. I live to serve,” he replies, a dangerous tone coating his words.

He turns away from her and starts walking to the door, his head held high. She leans back from the table and crosses her arms over her breastplate, watching him leave.

Gortash pauses as he opens the door of the council chamber, his gaudy rings glinting against the dark wood. Those dark eyes slide back to her with a smirk.

“Oh, and Commander?”

"Yes, Lord Gortash?"

“There’ve been a few...unfortunate rumors circulating the upper city of late. You should really learn to watch your tongue in public more,” Gortash drawls with a haughty air of false concern. “You wouldn’t want the public to think you’re just…some wild beast, would you? A wolf in sheep’s clothing, so to say.”

She bristles, but refuses to allow him the reaction he so badly wants. Looking for any excuse to make her seem like a savage in front of the other council members.

"Thank you for your concern." Miri glowers at him.

He just chuckles at the reply, clearly not intimidated by her at all. He glances between her and Gale for a moment, his smirk still etched on his face.

“Well. I suppose I will see you at the gala this evening, Commander,” he remarks, his tone taunting. With that the duke turns away and strides out of the room, giving Miri one more smug glance over his shoulder as he leaves.

Gods the fucking gala. Miri had forgotten about it until now. She can already feel the tension growing between her ears.

The king motions to dismiss the rest of the council, adjourning their meeting for the day. The others filter out of the room relatively quickly leaving only Gale and Miri with the king.

Once the chamber door shuts once more she puts a hand to her face and pinches the bridge of her nose. Gale lets out a sigh of frustration, turning toward Miri with irritation written all over his features.

“Did he just… taunt you?” Gale lets out a scoff and shakes his head, his eyes widening in shock as the words fully settle. “Oh my gods… did he just taunt you over your race?”

"Does he ever not?" Miri grumbles. She schools her expression and returns her hands to their position behind her back, turning her gaze to the king.

King Ravenguard gives Miri a sympathetic look, his features filled with sympathy for her plight. He’s no stranger to the ire and disrespect that some of the nobles can leverage, given how young he had to ascend.

“I apologize for Lord Gortash, Commander. I know he can be… frustrating, to say the least.” He glances over towards the door Gortash had left from, his expression hardening once again.

“He’s an arrogant man. I’m not surprised he tries to belittle you. But I will tell you this: know that your service to the Gate is greatly appreciated. You have served the Ravenguard line and the Gate loyally for generations. I hold all your words in great esteem,” he states earnestly.

Miri bows slightly in gratitude. "Thank you, your grace."

“Of course, Commander Adahlen’i. Baldur’s Gate is lucky to have you. As am I.” The king gives her a kind smile and nods his head. After a beat, he stands. “You may both return to your duties. Unless there is anything else, I will be retiring for my morning.”

Gale watches the king’s retreating form for a moment before turning to look back at Miri with a concerned frown. Miri sighs harshly when king Ravenguard leaves the room, finally relaxing a fraction. He watches as she braces her hands against the war table again. He can’t tell if her fraught expression is over the arch duke’s insults, or if she’s examining the war map.

After last night, he feels a stronger pull than ever to go to her. Be there for her. Be something to her. Yet, after this morning’s arguments snapping them so quickly back to their usual routine, it’s hard not to feel whiplash.

He’d hoped they had finally gotten past their bitterness and bickering. Wants for that to be true. Wants her, gods be damned.

“Are…” he pauses for a moment before continuing. Those green eyes move up to his at the sound of his voice. For a moment, it steals his breath away. But he clears his throat, his tone much gentler than before as he inquires, “Are you okay?”

"I'm fine," she replies shortly.

He gives her a look of disbelief at the answer, his brow furrowing in annoyance.

“Is that all you ever say? ‘I’m fine’?” He scoffs, crossing his arms. “I swear, if I had a gold piece for every time you’ve said that phrase, I’d be richer than the Blackstaff.”

Miri gaze hardens into a frustrated glower. Is he going to pretend this bothers him now? After all the years they’ve been on this council together, suddenly he notices. Or cares. Gods, one blow job and he’s fallen in love. The wretched thing.

“Are you really fine? Or are you just telling me what I want to hear?” Gale inquires, tone filled with exasperation.

“Well if I had a gold piece for every racist noble I've encountered I'd be a dragon." Miri shakes her head and huffs. "I have neither the time nor the energy to let such things get to me."

Gale lets out an exasperated sigh of annoyance at the answer, his fists clenching at his sides. How can she be so calm about this? So dismissive? She’s the fucking Knight Commander of Baldur’s Gate!

“It’s not something you should stand for, though, Miri. He has no right to treat you like such,” he exclaims, his indignant frustration growing with each word. “No one has that right.”

"If I retaliate I just prove him right," she answers calmly.

“How would it prove him right to fight for your dignity? To make him show you the deference and respect you deserve? What it would prove is that you’re stronger than he is. More capable,” he responds, his tone growing more heated by the moment.

"You might see it that way," Miri returns, turning her gaze towards the door, "But the people of Baldur's Gate will not when they hear the lythari knight commander lashes out at their beloved Grand Duke."

“Well I don’t care what they think!” Gale replies, rounding the end of the table to move closer to her with anger written all over his face. “That… pompous jerk should treat you with the respect you deserve! How dare he try to belittle you? You’ve done more for the Gate than anyone else in this bloody court. You outrank him in every way but station! He should know better!”

"It is a luxury to not have to care what they think," she returns sharply, that glower returning twofold. Her fingers tap an impatient rhythm against the table, amplified by the pointed tips of her gauntlets. "And plenty of fools who should know better, don't."

“And they should learn. You-“ he pauses, voice catching with his indignation. His eyes widen with the realization that she’s resigned to this. To this asinine treatment. That somehow this brilliant, phenomenal, tidal wave of a woman thinks she isn’t every bit as deserving of respect - if not more.

“You deserve- Gods, Miri, I swear sometimes you just accept the world for what it is without ever thinking about how it should be,” he exclaims, his tone filled with frustration.

Those bright eyes are full of a deep seated ire tempered with exhaustion. A bitter resignation so contradictory to her pride, her spirit that it nearly makes him sick. Miri deserves better.

"When you live as long as I have," the lythari says, voice low, "You learn how slowly the world changes. No matter how much it needed to happen sooner."

Her eyes search his for a lingering moment. Studying the dark set of his brow, the way a muscle feathers in his jaw. Miri wants to be angry at how he finally seems to be fed up with it - for him to be angry on her behalf. But she’s too gods damned tired. And she reeks of fucking wyvern blood.

"If you'll excuse me, Lord Dekarios, I am in dire need of a meal and a wash." Miri starts to stride towards the door.

Gale quickly steps in front of her, blocking her way to the door. Miri scowls up at him when he blocks her path. There’s a tension, thick and electric, hanging between them. He gives her a frustrated look and takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down.

“I- you can’t just-“ he pauses, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes as he collects his thoughts. Then slowly, firmly, he finally says, “…You can’t just run from the world every time you get frustrated, Miri.”

The frustration she had been tamping down starts to froth up to the surface. She already knows nothing she does will ever grant her the respect they both know she deserves.

"And what would you have me do?" Miri growls. "Scream and swear and howl? Tear out his throat? Prove his points?"

“No, but- I don’t know!” Gale exclaims, his hands clenching into fists once more. “I don’t know what the right thing to do is, but I know it’s not- this! It’s not bottling it all up inside and acting as if it doesn’t matter.”

He pauses, taking a few deep breaths before continuing.

“Do you… do you want to spar? Fight me. Get your anger out in a controlled environment,” he inquires, his tone turning calm and collected.

Miri laughs darkly. The last thing she wants is to cause a scene and put the court wizard on his ass in the training yard. It wouldn’t look good for either of them - no matter how cathartic it might be.

"No." She crosses her arms and shakes her head.

Gale huffs, his frustration snapping back like a trebuchet. If he can’t help her blow of steam that way, perhaps he could...

“Is there another way I could help?” He asks it softly, leaning closer. Gale pointedly tries to ignore the scent of her - the musk and pine and metal scent that sets his blood aflame. And he absolutely ignores the way that even splattered with dried blood that scowl can make his trousers feel suddenly a touch too tight. Even with no one around, he still tried to be covert. Subtle.

"Right now I just want to eat, take off this rank armor, and get a gods damned bath."

Gale lets out a breath of frustration at the answer, his fists clenching and unclenching in an attempt to contain his annoyance. Dismissal. Again. Is he not worth her time? Not good enough?

“You can’t just-“ he pauses and shakes his head, a deep frown etching onto his face. Then with an impatient sneer, he goes on. “Fine. Go get your bath, Commander.”

Miri scoffs at his formal dismissal. Go be someone else's hero, wizard. She doesn't need him to protect her. Least of all from wretches like Gortash.

“But I will speak to you again tonight. At the gala. We will find somewhere private to talk and you will listen to what I have to say,” he declares resolutely. He doesn’t have a damn clue what he’ll say, but he’ll figure it out in the mean time. And he will find a way to fix this twisted snake that coils between them.

"Fine." Miri huffs. She steps around him to head towards the door. Gale watches as she moves, his expression darkening. He glares at her, frustration evident, as she reaches the door and turns the handle.

"Good day, Gale."

“Good day, Commander.“

He watches as she leaves the room, his irritation growing at the thought of having to wait until the gala to confront her again. Right after he spends the rest of the fucking day repairing the bloody barriers. He whirls out of the room with a stream of grumbles.