#pantomime cat

[skeetlebeetle]

this was going to be a doodle..

(DONT MAKE ME TAP THE SIGN!!! if yr gonna use my art [don’t repost] u gotta credit me!!)

[scavengedluxury]

[meatsound]

bro pill pockets are the light the vision the moment

[fujianvenator]

WHO WOULDVE FUCKING GUESSED THAT HIRING A PROFESSIONAL TAP AND BALLET DANCER FOR A DANCE CENTERED STAGE SHOW INSTEAD OF A RANDOM CELEBRITY FOR MARKETING AND ACTUALLY USING A CLICK TRACK ON THE SONG IN 13/8 WOULDVE YIELDED GOOD RESULTS? WHO COULDVE GUESSED HONESTLY. NOT ME!

[helianskies]

guess who's now going to the panto with a bunch of school kids bc they needed the extra help and i can't say no to my mum

[laurajr-draws]

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Unpunishable

Astarion x F! Tav

(Girl Talk part 4, can be read alone)

18+ love triangle dynamics, possessiveness, blood drinking, tav being a menace, dom/brat, angry sex, power play, fingering (f!), mild restraint, spanking, spitting, p-in-v, prostate orgasm, some silly fun at the end

After Karlach spent the night with Tav, Astarion is feeling very normal about it. So normal that he needs her in his tent all night. Just to feed, he swears...

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

-

"You can feed from me tonight, if you'd like."

Her words were sweet, alluring. He knew he should express gratefully, but he was tight. Breathing through his nose.

"I'll see you tonight, then." He intoned in his best pantomime of casual.

Pretending he didn't see her emerge from Karlach's tent this morning. That he didn't go back to his tent to scream into his pillow.

Oh gods, no, no. Why had he waited?

Well, he knew. Fate had aligned against him, like it always does. He had planned to tell her, he truly had. But then she had nearly drowned. By his own idiotic actions, to boot.

Some god truly had a vendetta against him, he just wasn't sure which.

He tried to reassure himself, watching her mill around camp, it didn't appear they were together. Yet, anyway. They exchanged sly glances but beyond that their chatter was relatively the same.

Maybe he still had a chance.

Oh who was he kidding, it's Karlach. He's done for.

No. No, he couldn't give up.

Tonight, he had her for tonight.

Watched as her long legs kicked out in front of her as she sat down, leaning conspiratorial to whisper something in Shadowheart's ear. Saw the cleric's cheeks go red.

Feeling his eyes she glanced up, smiling cat-like at him. Pulling her hair over her shoulder. Tipping her head back slightly, beckoning him.

Gods below, he was in over his head.

Her face smeared with a smile, arms coming up. Arcane power pulsing wicked through her. "Umbra!"

Their enemies were swallowed in darkness. A flash of red hair as she dove in. The sounds of thrashing death from the darkness.

He pulled his focus back to the light, firing down on those on the outskirts. Pointedly ignoring the sounds of her viciously tearing into bodies.

He had asked before why she could still see in her spell.

"Ironic, isn't it?" She had laughed, pointing to her demonic eyes. "The blind leading the blind, truly. Well, previously blind. It's the Devil's Sight." Leaning on her hip, flourishing with her fingers. "What can I say, I'm thorough. I intended to never be without sight again, and I meant it."

He knew it went deeper than that, if her reaction to Volo's "help" was any indication.

When he had pulled a needle from his pack she grabbed his wrist tightly. Her normally charismatic eyes tight with icy rage. Sitting up.

"You are not putting that in my eye." Her voice a hiss, grip tightening.

Volo had flinched, endless apologetic words flowing from his mouth.

She had reminded him of their other Drow, Minthara, in that moment. Could see the same cold controlled anger in her. He understood why they were close. Both Drow nobility. Both raised with the same frigid hand.

The more he got to know about her, the deeper the rabbit hole went.

Now, their enemies were felled and he let out a relieved sigh. They had gotten into a powerful rhythm of combat, all knowing their role and executing it well. But that didn't guarantee victory.

She emerged from the dark, absolutely soaked in blood. Shaking the excess off of her blade with a flick of her wrist. Her usually neatly pinned hair falling out of its plaits. Chest huffing with exertion.

Gods below spare him.

"Call off?" She shouted, eyes scanning.

Since she fought almost entirely in darkness, she usually didn't know how the others had fared. So they worked out a system.

"Aye!" Karlach called cheerfully.

"Aye!" Minthara growled, pulling her greataxe out of a body with a grunt.

"Aye!" He called, more breathily than he meant to.

She smiled at him. "Excellent. Good job, all. Though I had no doubts."

"Minthara, check for injuries. Karlach, take account of the dead, throw any scrolls to me. Astarion, help me with this locked chest."

He let out a great sigh, pretending to be put upon.

She leaned into his play, looking at him with great pleading eyes. "Astarion, pleaaase~"

He could never tell her how shockingly effective that was on him.

"Alright, you child. Step aside." She laughed, stepping away with a flourish of her hand.

He crouched down, taking out his tools with sure hands. Beginning his ministrations.

"You know," He jumped at her voice in his ear, her warm body crouched behind his. "You make this look so easy, surely it must be harder?"

He resisted the shiver that sat at the bottom of his spine. Her velvet voice directly in his ear.

Of course she was still drenched in blood. She knew what she was doing, the she-devil.

"I assure you, it's difficult for most." He huffed, focusing back on his work.

"Hmm, do you think I could do it if I practiced?" She murmured, he could hear the smile in her voice. "I've been known to have very nimble fingers."

He nearly dropped his tools. Memories of their first night assaulting his mind. Regained composure.

"I'm sure you'd make a fine locksmith, darling. Now if you don't mind." His voice was snippy, irritation thinly veiling his arousal.

Always teasing him. Gods he wanted to push her against a wall.

Shook his head slightly. No. Less of those thoughts. Focus.

"Oh, you're no fun today." She giggled, rising to feet. He immediately felt the absence of her body.

"Prickly, I'll have to watch that I don't nick myself." At the word nick, she waved her wrist past his face as she passed. Rejoining their companions with a look at him over her shoulder.

Oh he was going to take her apart tonight.

He paced in his tent. So many emotions crashing around inside him. Longing, fear, anger, desire. And the one that surprised him the most; possession. That had been at the forefront of his mind shockingly often.

He wanted her. Badly. And he wanted her to himself.

He had a great fondness in his heart for Karlach but if it came down to it, he wanted it to be him.

Rest assured, he wouldn't go down without a fight, and he didn't fight fairly.

The flap of his tent lifted slightly, her white eyes asking for entry.

"There you are." He purred as she stepped inside.

She tied down the fabric. The universal sign of do not disturb.

Oh?

His dead heart raced a little.

"Well, are we planning for more than a feeding tonight?" He stepped closer, smirking.

She pulled the pins in her hair, kicking off her boots. Shaking her head, her red hair fell and bounced down to the base of her spine. Her eyes cutting up to his.

Hells below it wasn't fair.

"If you play your cards right. Now help me with my armor."

He stepped forward and she turned her back to him. Pulling her hair away for him.. His quick fingers went to work on the buckle on her shoulder.

The smell of her well-oiled leather breastplate, the blood still caught in its creases. The oils in her hair, something sweet. Appleblossom.

"...Are you smelling me?"

He sputtered, heat rushing to his neck. "Certainly not. Gods."

He saw contained laughter in her shoulders as he lifted her breastplate off. She sighed in relief, stretching.

"I don't mind." She turned her head slightly, winking at him. "I'm sure your keen senses tell you a lot. Don't they?"

She stepped back into him, sliding her head into the side of his face.

He leaned in then, giving in completely. Eyes closing, breathing in like she was the most enthralling perfume. If he could bottle it, he would wear it on his wrist.

His hands came up to pull at her hair, nuzzling down into the curve of her neck. A small moan in his throat. Exquisite.

She kicked off the last of her armor, now in her damp underclothes, still sweaty from their fight earlier that day. Her musk coming to swirl into the heady bouquet.

"How do you want me?" She asked, sighing and leaning her head back.

That question send a quick shock of pleasure into his already hard cock.

"Down. Down with me." He pushed on the back of her knees with his own.

She kneeled down with him, straddling around her back. Pressing his erection hard into her lower back. Making his intentions clear.

This was the first time he had taken charge between them and it sent a delicious thrill up his spine.

He bit down into her with a groan. Pulling her into his throat in pulses. Her taste sending his eyes into the back of his head. He would never get used to it.

Her little sighing whimper stroking down his cock.

He latched on harder with a growl, his frustration brought to the surface again. How many times did he have to bite her to make it clear that she was his to the others?

His.

That she felt the need to seek out other bodies. Oh he would make her certain that she needn't do that tonight.

He pulled off with great effort, laving his tongue obscenely up her neck. They had more pressing matters to attend to.

"So I couldn't help but notice," He started, fingers trailing up her arm. "That you spent the night with our sweet Karlach."

"I did." She agreed, pushing her ass back into him cheekily. Subtly moving her hips up and down. "Do you have any feelings about that you'd like to share?"

He expected her to deny it, to get flustered. He should know better by now.

Gods below, he wished he could warn that idiot on the beach that he was about to walk into the vipers' den.

"Feelings?" He intoned, playing up for time.

"Mhm," She hummed, reaching up and playing with his ear. Her skilled hands pulling, the sensitive skin betraying him. He stifled a moan.

"Would you have liked to join?" She smiled, giving a little tug.

The band of frustration snapped inside him. Catching her wrist into his hand.

She gasped and he could smell a new wave of arousal rising from her.

"No. I did not." He growled.

"As a matter of fact," He hissed, pulling her hair in his fist. Her neck bending open to him. "I was not pleased to see that at all."

She moaned, arching her back. "No?" Her voice coming out hot. "Not into sharing?"

He reached around her front. Pulling her chest wrappings off in a harsh flick of his wrist. Falling away into her lap.

"Not even a little, darling." He warned, directly into her ear.

Fingers twisting her peak. "I intend to make you mine."

She shivered, much to his delight.

"Prove it." She hissed, turning her head just enough to look in his eyes. That devilish smile on the edge of her lips.

He shoved the space between her shoulder blades, pushing her face down into his pillow. Hiking her hips up.

She groaned, then laughed. Laughed.

He growled, pulling her underclothes down roughly. His hand snapping hard down on her ass.

She mewled, burying her face in his pillow.

Oh now we're getting somewhere.

He struck the reddening skin again, the crack of his hand hanging in the air. Seeing the wetness start to drip down her cunt.

"You evil little thing." He chided. "Are you going to be good?"

She hooked her legs around his knees, pulling him off balance for fun.

"Hmm, I'll consider it." She mused.

He reached around her front, fingers circling against her clit, other hand pushing two fingers inside her. Fast and angry. She moaned, pushing her hips into him.

"You'll consider it..." He repeated, goading in his voice.

He thought about how she had him in the same position not long ago. Felt a thrill of fresh arousal fire down his cock.

He blurred his hands against her clit, curling his fingers and slamming inside her.

She arched her back up like a cat, her hands held out to balance her curling. Little choppy breaths.

"Astarion," She moaned, nearly whimpering.

Oh that was doing it for him. Pre-cum pooling in his leathers.

"Say my name again, or I stop."

She hit her fist against the ground in frustration, not wanting to give in. He smiled wide. Oh, he could get her to play his game by the rules.

His hands started to slow in warning.

"Astarion!" She whined, incredulous. That same tone when she asked for help earlier.

He started back up again dutifully. Her shooting daggers at him. Giving her a smug preening smile.

She was rocking back into him, sweet little urgent moans pushing out of her. He loved to hear her sing for him. Him and only him.

"Tell me you'll only make these sounds for me." He leaned forward into her ear.

"Is that what you want?" She panted, hand coming up to cup his head.

"Yes." He bit at her ear. Hands punishing.

"Swear it."

She panted, nearly there. The smell of her blood burning with heat.

"I swear. Now fuck me like you hate me."

He groaned, his cock throbbing against her backside. Suddenly remembering that she had never taken a man before. His arousal doubling.

He released his cock from its painful cage. Lining up to her with as much restraint as he could muster.

Planted a hand on her lower back. His cock steadying at her entrance.

"Hold on, darling."

She slammed back, sheathing herself on him to the hilt. He groaned, nearly buckling over.

Gods below, she was going to kill him.

"All out of venom?" She teased.

"Do I need to gag you?" He held her hips harshly, restraining her. Rolling into her at a punishingly slow pace.

"You can try." She moaned, gripping his length. Clenching down around him in pulses. The languid pace making her shake.

He gripped down on her hair again, fisting it at her scalp. Pulling her head back.

Saw her smile, eyes closing in pleasure. Hips meeting his in rhythm. Finally giving in to him.

But he wasn't done with her.

He leaned over her back. "Look at me."

She opened her eyes, those haunting white eyes. Filled with desire for him, pupils blown wide.

"Open your mouth."

She looked surprised but obliged dutifully. Those perfect plush lips falling open.

He spat into her mouth.

He saw her eyes hitch back, clenching down hard around him. Knew her orgasm was close behind.

He said her name sharply as he slammed into her, pulling her hair again. "You look at me while I fuck you through this."

She nodded, swallowing his spit. Face flushed.

Gods now he could barely keep his eyes open.

Her face cringed in what looked like pain. Eyebrows knitting together. Keeping her eyes open with what looked like great effort.

"Oh Gods," She whined, as the first contractions hit.

He focused on keeping pace but it was a futile effort. Her cunt taking him at the rapid pace of her undoing.

He felt his own face screw up in pleasure. Her eyes still locked on his.

Whimpering and begging moans pushing through her. Body shaking against him deeply.

"Please come, Astarion." She urged, her voice so sweet.

He could hold off no longer. Hearing his name said like that again the match striking to the powder keg.

His pelvis contracting in vicious pulses. His body remembering her pleasures had activated his prostate without touch. Those same hard tremors shooting through him. He spilled inside her in unbearable pulses. He bit down on his arm to not scream. Coming so hard he saw stars, and then coming more after that. Unable to maintain eye contact anymore, his rolling back into his head.

"Oh Gods. Fuck." He groaned into the muffle of his bloody arm. The pleasure finally winding down.

She squeezed his thigh reassuringly as she panted, head fallen into the pillow.

He pulled out of her slowly. Groaning at the obscene amount of his spend pouring down her backside.

Gods he didn't know he had that much.

He grabbed a cloth and wiped it away from her. Though he would love to stare at it for hours.

"Oh thank you," She purred tiredly, smiling at him. "What a gentleman."

She sat back on wobbly legs, reaching for her clothes.

He grabbed her wrist.

"What are you doing, darling?"

"Getting dressed." She said simply. Looking at him confused. "Don't worry you'll be free of me soon." She said easily.

Gods below how did she still think he didn't want her.

He pulled her into a searing kiss.

She squeaked in surprise.

"I Don't."

Bite.

"Want you."

Bite.

"To leave."

She moaned quietly into his mouth, wrapping her legs around his back.

"You're sure?" She asked, eyes soft. Melting him through.

"For the love of... yes!" He admonished, to her little smile. Biting her lip.

Blushing.

He never thought he would see the day.

"So you want to be my boooyfriend~"

"Oh Gods, I'm regretting this already."

"You liiiiike me~"

"Yes, you demon." He grabbed at her waist, biting at her playfully.

She squealed out a laugh. Trying to get away. "No biting! No biting!"

"A little late for that, don't you think?" He laughed. Digging his fingers into her sides to reignited laughter. Wiggling to get away.

"No! I'm ticklish!"

"Oh, you've made a grave mistake, admitting that." He leaned down and nipped at her sides.

He smiled evilly at her hands shoving his head, her mouth open wide in a gasping laugh.

He could get used to this.

~

(okay I think this is the last one of these, I hadn't planned to make this a series but the gods of smut took my hand. thank ya'll for all the feedback on this series!!!)

[xythlia]

— FALSE LIFE ˎˊ˗

› ascended astarion x f! spawn tav

› word count : 2k+

› sorry but his ascended lines do something to me >.< & I finally felt brave enough to post this after my 200+ game hours (also im open to astarion requests btw :3)

warnings : mdni. compulsion. noncon elements. posessive behavior. angst ish. fingering. toxic relationship. reader has hair long enough to brush off shoulders. reader wears a revealing dress. pet names (dear, darling, little love, ect.). oral f receiving. he calls you dinner sorry lol

This is the first time he's ever done this, compelled you.

If heat could still pool beneath your skin, anger more akin to molten lava beneath the surface, surely it would have. He broke his promise to you, the small thread of security that allowed you to go along with becoming a spawn. You also want to weep, wish tears could well freely in your eyes and track down your cheeks.

But even that is denied to you. Instead you're rooted to the spot, the marble flooring devoid of any echoing footsteps and the air hanging thick with frightening anticipation.

You can't reflexively jump when his lithe fingers move your hair from your shoulders, brushing your own equally icy skin. Much of your body is routinely on display for the vampire ascendant, something else you've always swallowed your displeasure on. There is also the absence of a gasp as his hand grips the back of your neck, an odd pantomime of a mother cat carrying its kitten by the scruff.

"Tell me," he asked, "do I not give you a life of constant pleasure?"

The words slip from your mouth unbidden. "Yes."

"Haven't I made sure you want for nothing?"

Again. "Yes."

His grip tightens, forcing your head to the side a bit and you wish you could wince.

"Then why, my little love, are you so insistent on acting like an ungrateful brat?" He spits out the question, forcing you to meet his ruby gaze by turning your head himself. You've never felt more doll-like, a petulant child.

"You compelled me. Forbade me from going outside the palace bounds. It upsets me that I cannot see our friends and companions. It upsets me that you broke your promise." Your affect couldn't be flatter, a dizzying contrast to how much pain you truly felt inside, a cruel effect of compulsion.

The dining room is quiet, thick with tension as he seemingly takes in your reasoning in silence.

The laughter that bursts from his lips is harsh, not because it's forced or hollow, but because it's real, legitimate laughter. He releases you to cross his arms, chortling so much tears well in his eyes. It makes something absolutely hideous twist in your gut, watching his display as if your feelings were nothing but the realms crassest joke.

All the while you stand statuesque, frozen and seething as your lover mocks you.

"Don't be stupid, darling. You're mine, remember?" Astarion caressed your jaw, positioning himself front and center in all your senses. "Your future has been mine to decide the moment that little worm was ousted from our heads."

Your eyes catch the scar on the side of his neck, bite marks like a twin to your own. Something else inside you is dying, a slow march, and soon the Crimson Palace will be more like your mausoleum than your home.

"Yes."

"Good," he pauses, seemingly sizing you up for reasons unclear, "Sit back. On the tabletop, darling."

Your movements are automatic, body and mind completely untethered from one another in terms of control. An anxiety grips your mind, sharp fingers digging into your brain and you perch on the vast, ornate table.

"Mhm, you know, I didn't get to finish my meal since you decided to spoil dinner with your silent sulking." His smile is a wicked thing. "But I do think we should move on to dessert now anyway."

One hand slides up the revealing slit of your dress, icily fondling your flesh and slowly inching upwards before his fingers are brushing along the seam of your underwear. All you can do is remain frozen, legs spread, as if you were a plaything for him to pose and contort any way he pleased. You suppose that's all you might be now.

"How about an... even trade, of sorts? In exchange for forgiving this little trespass with no punishment, you agree not to question my decisions."

Its not fair, the answer isn't truly your own. "A deal, yes."

A contented sigh leaves him as his index finger rubs up and down your clothed cunt, but his eyes are sharp and you know it's not lost on him how damp your underwear is. When he grins again those fangs are on full display, exaggerated by the shadows cast from the flickering candlelight.

It breaks your heart that he's as beautiful as ever, that still the baser parts of you can't help but desire him.

His plush lips find yours with comfortable familiarity, the perfect genius of their synched movement a testament to how much time he's spent mapping your mouth, committing it to memory. As you slip your arms around his neck you realize the compulsion is gone, but desire keeps you rooted in place, enjoying the feeling of his wandering, groping hands.

Forcing yourself to forget for selfish pleasure is surprisingly easy, a skill you've cultivated the past few months.

You gasp into his mouth as his fingers slip past your underwear, swiping through your wetness before lazily circling your already aching clit. The stimulation makes your hips jerk, chasing his hand for more friction but his other presses firmly against your hip to keep you still.

"Don't be gluttonous dear. I'm the one who didn't get to finish my dinner." He whispers against your parted lips, trailing sloppy open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, the exposed tops of your breasts, until he's sunk to his knees in front of you.

As he lifts the skirt of your dress you lay back against the heavy polished oak table, and if your heart could race it would be galloping out of your chest in anticipation. Thankfully Astarion doesn't keep you waiting long, he was true to his word that there was no punishment this time as he pulled down your underwear and trailed chaste kisses from your calf, your thighs, all the way to your soaked cunt as you squeezed your eyes shut.

"My delicious little treat," he murmured, his breath fanning across your skin, making you clench around nothing right before he placed a kiss to your clit.

The smallest of moans escaped you and it was enough to encourage him, tongue swiping through your arousal as his fingers prodded at your entrance. When he sucked against your clit your back arched off the table and every noise became amplified: the way you were panting, the slick slurping sounds of his mouth working against you, the squelching as two fingers slid inside you to start scissoring against your spongy walls. The cacophony was enough to make your head spin as your hands flailed downward, looking to grasp any part of him you could reach.

Grasping at his alabaster hair you cry out his name, with the same reverence one would use to call out to a god, and it only spurs him on. He groans against you as your hips start to rise, chasing the stimulation from his tongue and feeling the first embers of climax catching in your abdomen.

"Please -" tears slip down your cheeks as his fingers increase their pace, his tongue devouring you ceaselessly and you nearly choked on your own cries as your thigh muscles tense impossibly tight.

Your legs shake against his shoulders as your fingers scrape against his scalp, the embers now transformed into a roaring pyre, burning you from the inside out as the edges of your mind start to peel from the internal heat and pressure. You squirm recklessly, mouth hung open in a silent cry as your upper half rises off the table.

Slowly you lay back, struggling to control your muscle tremors and with one final kiss to your throbbing clit, that makes you yelp, Astarion pulls back, draping your skirt back in place and slipping your underwear in his pocket.

"You see, I can be quite forgiving darling. Just don't push it in the future."

[vivwritescrappythings]

Just Love Me and Eat

Vampire!Eddie Munson x Reader

You watched Eddie die, so this must be some nightmare in your room.

tw: blood, biting, i think its gender neutral?

also just really loved Bones and All and the concept of cannibalism/vampirism as love so made this lil guy

Word Count: 2k

Part two

masterlist

—

Your room was dark, the curtains pulled shut and the lights off. It had been a month since Eddie died and you didn’t have the energy to pantomime life without him. You had no sense of what time it was, every day simply becoming another day where he was gone and you were left unmoored. If it wasn’t for the sound of birds chirping and kids playing outside, you wouldn’t have guessed time was passing at all.

You didn’t sleep, you hardly ate. Nancy and Robin brought you food like offerings, using their keys to enter your apartment and leaving simple meals outside your bedroom door with soft knocks on the wood. Their little tupperwares were probably the only things keeping you alive–you knew Eddie would be upset if you wasted food on his account.

The Hellfire shirt Wayne had given you was soft and well-worn, but it hardly smelled like Eddie anymore. The familiar scent of tobacco and leather and the incense that he used to try to cover the stink of weed was fading, soon you wouldn’t be able to detect it at all under the sharp tang of your sweat.

Curled up in your comforter, you kept thinking about how it should’ve been you instead. Eddie would have known how to keep living, he would’ve been able to move on. You? You were just surviving.

Sleep threatened the edges of your vision, you’d been staring at the fuzzy polaroid photo you had propped on your nightstand. It was of you and Eddie at some party, he was smiling broadly at the camera with you tugged neatly to his side. Both of you held solo cups, your head rested on his shoulder like it was meant to be there.

It was your last good memory of him, before Chrissy Cunningham died and everything you ever knew fell to pieces.

—

Your dreamless sleep was interrupted by something tapping at your window. At first you thought—prayed—you were hallucinating it. Maybe it was just a lack of sleep accumulating to finally make you hear things. But it insisted, the knocking at your second-floor window was incessant enough that it managed to pull you from your bed.

The quilt came with you as you carefully crossed the room to your window, trepidation making you bite your lip before you finally pulled back the curtain. It was a quick motion, ripping off the band-aid with the expectation of seeing a woodpecker or a squirrel or something normal on the other side.

What you didn’t expect to see was your dead boyfriend in the moonlight.

You nearly screamed, your eyes widening into dinner plates as you clapped a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise. It must’ve been a dream, or a nightmare. In your effort to get away from the window you tripped over discarded shoes on the floor and fell back onto your butt. Panicked, delirious tears roll down your cheeks as you start to roughly pinch the skin on your exposed thigh.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up,” you mumbled to yourself as you hyperventilated through the tears. It couldn’t be Eddie, Eddie was dead. He was in The Upside Down. You were never getting him back.

It was too late when you realized your window was unlocked, not-Eddie placing a palm flat against the glass to push it up. It was slow, you were too stunned to get up and try to close it. You were just outright sobbing on the floor of your bedroom, angry welts across your leg from where you’d been pinching at it almost hard enough to draw blood.

This Eddie looked different… he looked off. His eyes weren’t brown anymore: they were too bright, almost looking like a cat’s eyes in a photograph. Your window was fully open now, not-Eddie pitching himself through with a grace you’d never seen before.

“Did you miss me, baby?” he asked, his voice sounding the same as it used to. Your heart twisted, breaking into a million pieces—you’d dreamt of Eddie before, but never like this. His clothes were ripped and dirty, his battle vest in shreds along with the shirt beneath it. You could see the gnarled, twisting scars on his arms and his neck and parts of his torso through the shirt—everything the demobats had done to him.

He took in the state of your bedroom, appraising it with the careful eye of someone who had been there many times before. You kept crying into your hand, not able to catch your breath. Your head was spinning, part of you wanting to wake up from the dream as the rest wanted to stay asleep—you wanted to soak up time with any shred of Eddie you could have.

Not-Eddie took a few careful steps toward you, his not-so-white Reeboks softly hitting the ground as he crouched in front of you. He had his Hellfire shirt on under his shredded battle vest and leather jacket, blood and dirt and foggy black stains clinging to the fabric. The one Wayne had given you was an extra, something found in the back of Eddie’s closet.

“You… you’re dead,” you finally croaked, your voice cracking and raspy from disuse. The breath you took rattled in your lungs, the scent of earth and blood and something vaguely like tobacco filling your nose. “I watched you… the bats…”

It was rushing all back to you, the way you screamed when all the bats fell around Eddie. You and Dustin ran to him, watching him die in your arms. Steve carried you out of the Upside Down kicking and screaming.

Not-Eddie tutted at you, his yellow eyes roving over your form. They paused at your neck, at the hem of the Hellfire shirt against your thighs. Something inside you kept telling you to get off the floor and run, but you remained rooted to the spot.

“You really think some silly little bats could keep me away from you?” Not-Eddie asked, his head tilting. “Nothing could keep me from you. Nothing.”

His hands were freezing when they wrapped under your knees to drag you closer. Fat tears rolled down your face, stinging at your eyes and hot against your cheeks.

“This can’t be happening.”

Not-Eddie chuckled, his smile revealing perfectly white teeth. His canines and outermost incisors in the top row of his teeth were elongated, looking like fangs more than anything else. Your mind stuttered, frantically trying to keep up.

His hands were still on the backs of your knees, his gaudy costume rings cold against your skin. His calloused fingers pressed at the popliteal veins at the backs of your legs. If anything he seemed to be preoccupied with rolling them under his fingertips, tracing along them.

“Guess they weren’t normal bats, baby,” he muttered, rolling from crouching on his feet to kneeling between your legs.

Your breath hitched as he bent over you, one dirt-crusted hand pressing against the floorboards near your head. His long curls fell down around you, curtaining your dark bedroom from your view as your breaths became shallow. He was so close to your Eddie that you almost found yourself convinced.

He leaned down, nosing at your neck. Hot breaths huffed at the curve between your neck and shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he growled in a low voice, a large hand pressing to your sternum to pin you to the floor. He was so strong, it was like he had placed a weight on your chest.

“I’m so sorry,” you whined, your voice pathetic and soft. You stared up at the ceiling, your hands loosely tugging at his leather jacket. “I shouldn’t have let Harrington drag me away, should’ve stayed.”

He shushed you, pressing his nose to your skin and inhaling deeply. “S’okay, baby. You’ll make it up to me,” he mumbled, his voice seeming only partially present in the conversation. Not-Eddie’s lips pressed to your throat.

“Your heart is beating so fast… smells so good,” he groaned, licking up the side of your throat for a moment. “I’m starving, baby. You gonna help me?”

His voice was dripping with soft affection, like someone talking to a skittish wild animal. “Eddie…” you whined, your instincts screaming that something was wrong.

“Shh shh,” he mumbled, placing open mouthed kisses over your pulse point. His voice was broken, a desperation in it that you understood and recognized. “It’s okay... I just gotta eat, I’m so hungry. Haven’t eaten anything… wanted to see you first.”

Your head was spinning, the realization that this is your Eddie snapping into place like a sudden, infallible truth. Your heart was still pounding against your ribs like a hummingbird trapped in a cage. For the first time you felt like prey as Eddie kept you cornered against the floor. But he was still gentle, not taking what he easily could have.

“I love you,” you whispered, tears clouding your eyes. He was different, more monster than man, but this was Eddie. Your Eddie.

“Love you so much,” he said, his teeth scraping against your delicate skin. The words sounded like a prayer, like they’d been ripped from his chest. He seemed stuck, his muscles clenching as he traced his tongue and teeth along the thick vein in your throat. “Missed you.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly. “Eat, Eddie. S’okay,” you mumbled despite your instincts screaming at you to get him off of you.

“I know you’re hungry, let me help.” You tilted your head, pressing your throat to his teeth. A lamb to the slaughter. He stiffened at the action, fighting to keep himself under control. “Don’t want you to be hungry. Not anymore.”

The sound he made was like he got punched in the stomach. Eddie groaned, his fingers pressing into the floorboard hard enough to make the wood split. Your brow pinched, concern running through you. He still hadn’t taken action, not yet.

Your fingers threaded into the soft curls at the nape of Eddie’s neck, pulling his head closer. “You won’t hurt me, Eds. Just love me and eat.”

He grunted, the ghost of a nod coming from him as his nose bumped your neck. The pain of Eddie’s teeth sinking into your neck made you whimper. His hand moved from your sternum to caress your cheek, thumb rubbing back and forth soothingly. The sting faded to warmth, Eddie’s lips pressed firmly against your throat as he suckled at you.

After a while you could hardly keep your hand in his hair, so dizzy and tired that the back of your knuckles smacked against the floor. You felt like you were melting into it, vision doubling as your eyes crossed. Your breaths were shallow and slow. It was hard to think, your mind not able to even tell what time it was or how long it had been.

But your exhaustion was enough, Eddie pulled away. He lapped at the remaining blood on your skin for a moment before sitting back completely. You looked up at him with dizzy eyes, vaguely categorizing the way blood was smeared across his full lips and down his chin.

“C’mon, baby,” he said, gathering your loose limbs from where you’d sprawled on the floor. He seemed more himself now, his actions considerate and his voice back to its normal cadence. He lifted you in a smooth motion, carrying you to bed with a tenderness you remembered from him. He was so much stronger now.

After situating you on the covers, he removed his jacket and toed off his shoes. His body settled behind yours, making the mattress dip as he pulled your spine to his chest. You were fighting with every blink, trying to keep your eyes open for as long as possible. If this was a dream you didn’t want Eddie to disappear.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, I swear,” he said into your hair, his large hands smoothing along your waist and your bicep. The reassurance was enough for you to drift off, the blood loss pulling you toward unconsciousness. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

[youremyheaven]

Jupiter & Rahu : Ditziness & Weird Girl Humor

This post is inspired by an ask I received a while ago

Jupiter & Rahu girls in comedy cinema/television often play airheaded characters who are a bit ditzy and zany. Another feature is that all these characters are mostly harmless, good natured people. They can be mean/blunt but its because of their ditzy, airheaded nature and not out of malice.

All 3 Jupiter naks belong mostly to air signs (Punarvasu- Gemini, Vishaka-Libra, Purvabhadrapada- Aquarius) and same goes for all 3 Rahu naks (Ardra-Gemini, Swati-Libra, Shatabhisha-Aquarius) in fact all Rahu naks come right before a Jupiter nak. I have always personally believed that Rahu & Jupiter are similar in many ways but obviously different as well. Rahu is limitless expansion. Jupiter is boundless expansion within principles.

But all that aside, Jupiter & Rahu are literally air influenced and I do think its the presence of an excess of Air that makes someone come across as "airheaded".

The etymology of the word "airhead" is that one's head is filled with air and is thus empty. I have talked about Jupiter & even Rahu's limitless nature feeling "empty" for the natives themselves. Out of all the elements, air is the only one that can really said to be boundless, its not measurable or calculable, its just there, unlike water or earth or fire. but air has no physical form and while that is liberating, it also makes one feel empty and untethered and these are all emotional issues that a lot of Jupiter/Rahu people deal with.

But anyyywayys,

Cat Valentine on Victorious played by Ariana Grande is a really good example of an airheaded, zany comic character.

Ari has Ardra Sun & Mercury in Punarvasu (Rahu + Jupiter influence)

I will include Mercury placements because Mercury is literally how we communicate with others??

Phoebe Buffay from Friends is another good example of this type of comedy. She is played by Lisa Kudrow's who has Rahu conjunct Ascendant in Punarvasu

Kelly Kapoor from The Office is the ditzy zany delusional gal played by Mindy Kaling who is Ardra Sun & Moon, with Mercury in Punarvasu

Jackie Burkhart on The 70s Show played by Mila Kunis, Swati Moon is a meaner version of this archetype

Meryl Streep- Ardra Sun often speaks and talks this way. Just watch any of her interviews and you can sense that Rahu/Jupiter airy nature/demeanour/comic sense

Janhvi Kapoor, Purvabhadrapada Sun, Mercury in Shatabhisha is known for her "dumb girl persona" that most people think is fake but tbh I just think she's a little slow due to all that Air influence lol

Gracie Allen, Mercury in Punarvasu conjunct Jupiter is an early example of this type of humour and comedy

Cheryl Tunt on Archer voiced by Judy Greer, Mercury in Punarvasu (Saturn in Punarvasu atmakaraka)

Chrissy Snow from Three's Company played by Suzane Somers, Punarvasu Moon & Mercury in Vishaka is a classic example of a ditz

There are notable male ditzy characters as well

Andy from Parks & Rec played by Chris Pratt, Mercury in Punarvasu & Swati Rising

(there's a 10 video limit per post so I cant attach more vids)

Joey Tribbiani, played by Matt LeBlanc, Purvabhadrapada Moon, Mercury in Ardra & Punarvasu Rising is a great example of a male ditz

Harpo Marx- Punarvasu Moon, Mercury in Vishaka he was a silent comedian known for his highly exaggerated physical comedy that was very pantomime/clown-like. This is another aspect of the airhead/ditz, they don't just say dumb things, they do dumb things. Physical comedy is a big part of it.

London Tipton played by Brenda Song, Mercury conjunct Rahu in Purvabhadrapada

Christina Applegate, Shatabhisha Moon played a very ditzy character on Married With Children

These are all the examples off the top of my head. I feel like many Disney princesses will also fit this bill lol

lmk if you have other examples

hope this was interesting xx

[estellxli]

(small drabble before i sleep ;w; also it's been a while since I've posted lolol)

My Woman

Your shivering hands reached out for the door knob of your home. Smoke leaving your mouth as you walked in. Relief comforted your body as the warmth embraced you.

"Welcome home, darling." Your husband says, donning an apron. That's when your nose finally picked up a familiar scent, your lips tug in a smile. A smile he treasures.

"Here, let me." he says, as he takes of your coat, the fabric absorbing the melted snowflakes. He hangs it on the coat rack.

"Thank you" you say as your right feet goes behind the other, about to attempt to take your boots off. Just then, Zhongli kneels down to your surprise and grabs your left boot, waiting for you to raise it.

A giggle leaves your lips. This damned man, doesn't he know this gestures of his makes you fall for him more? It's bad for your heart.

"Famished?"

Feet free from its cage. His hands guiding you slowly, making sure you won't trip.

"Very"

He looks up with that devilish smile of his. You quite like the view up there, he reminded you of a cute schipperke.

Zhongli grabs your hand, his lips soft and smooth on your skin.

"Perfect. I made us dinner"

As he stood, you were reminded once more of how he's much taller than you. You can't help but wonder if you looked like a dog to him too, or a cat.... or a bunny.

Your trance ended as you were swiftly off the floor, your husband carrying you bridal style. A giggle leaves once more. Really, what is up with him today.

He brings the both of you in the dining room, sitting you down and moving your chair in for you.

Clearly, your nose didn't betrayed you as bowl of slow-cooked bamboo shoot soup is presented on your table. Zhongli watched you eat his dish in delight. He couldn't help but laugh at your pantomime attempt of expressing how good his dish was. You knew how much it was cooked with the utmost care and technique, using only the finest ingredients just for you. He loved doing things for you. And oh, how incredibly grateful you are for that.

"Finished, my dear?" you nod as you gulp the last sip of your water.

He needn't ask if you liked the soup. He knew you did. He knew, since he'll only give you the best and only the best.

"Come now," Zhongli stood from his chair and walked beside you. " — let's have you cleaned for bed."

The both of you sauntered in the bathroom, bathtub filled with water and bubbles foaming out. It smelled like lavender. Zhongli helping you take off your clothes ones more. Heat slowly rising on your cheeks. You've seen each other many times, but you can't seem to help it. Thankfully, the bubbles will hide it soon.

You dip your toe first in the bathtub, and surely enough, it was in the right temperature. Water spilled on the ceramic floor as the bathtub contained to people.

Zhongli sat in front of you, with his feet beside you, legs slightly bent as the bathtub was small for his size.

He placed the bathtub tray containing sweets, and pulled out a bottle of wine, and like the Zhongli you know, he rambles with insightful knowledge.

You exchange conversations while enjoying the desserts he prepared. Which then slowly becomes a water fight as you finish. The room filled with laughter and the floor becoming more wet as the water continues to splash. Closing your eyes and turning your head on the side in case a water splashes on your eyes. Words of conceding escapes your lips accompanied by laughter. The water on the tub slowly calms down.

Zhongli grabs your feet and placed it on his chest. Massaging it with the utmost care. You've been walking around Liyue all day to the point it was tingling.

He kisses the sole of your foot tenderly. "That tickles." a giggle, and a slight jerk on your foot.

He looks at you intensely, the flicker in his eyes didn't leave your notice. Your own foot was blocking the view of his lips, but you knew he was smiling behind it.

He kissed it once more.

"My woman."

[clovenhoofedjester]

jellicle lineups; part 3/4

LETS GO PEOPLE!! LETS GO !! sorry for taking so long to get around to this one !

demeter | 🔒 🍰 🌇

DEETER

ive seen a lot of complaints about demeters design being toned down over the years so i decided to bring some of the bolder design choices back for mine. mullet demeter is REAL now ! honestly i couldve done more w/ their makeup but shhh its ok....

i tried to push the gold in their design by making the eyeshadow really obvious and giving them gold lips. enjoy their lacy dress too... i tried to design something which they could dance comfortably in

demeters newer 3 words (nervous, sensual, secretive) mean everything to me. love them so much. i think theyd be 29 in human years

bombalurina | 🌹 🍓 🛼

so i totally based her hair on that concept art for drag queen bomba. the bob is too cute ! i had a blast doing her design for the most part. i struggled w that makeup and the color of her dress but its ok.

i also tried to give her something she could dance in—just like. imagine the length of the dress a little shorter. im not going back and fixing it

i based her color palette/patterns directly on her concept art because tbh, i dont love blond/ginger bomba ! so black/white/red hair bomba it is

i think she would be 27 in human years

hysperia | 🪴 ⌚ 🍡

this is my version of exotica, renamed hysperia, because i do not love her og name. its not fun. the name hysperia is taken from an ensemble kitten character from the og london production

i also based her design on a multitude of things, asides from her 2 costumes in 98—like some nbq/greycat designs since i feel like that design not becoming a common ensemble character was a waste. A WASTE I TELL YOU! ive also based her fur length on warsaw victoria because oh my godddd that design is so good. peak

her neck bow is a nod to the 2019 movie... the macavity girls w/ those bow collars. they were onto something there

she would have a much more prominent role than the few times she cameo'd in 98, still retaining the elegant/shy personality she shows in the film. shed be 29 in human years

cassandra | 🪐 ♠️ 🥯

i originally made her makeup a lot closer to her replica designs but decided to go for something a little different based on a makeup look i saw on pinterest LOL. so like. enjoy her slight earthy gothic vibes. i also didnt struggled too much on her outfit since i came into this knowing that i wanted her to be wearing something formfitting and bejeweled. a little circus-y too

more people have got to play up her disdainfulness. she'd be 26 in human years

alonzo | 🎹 🍢 🎳

once again, another design pretty similar to his standard replica one. i just tried to make the black patch on his face a little greyer and with some white detailing. because tbh every alonzo with white mascara makes me go crazy its so cute

i also tried to make his head fur/bangs a little distinctive—inspired by a random pic from a production i dont know the name of

enjoy his little cute fit too. pinklonzo. pastelonzo

that one gif of him pantomiming eating a playing card IS canon to me. he'd be 28 in human years

munkustrap | 📼 🥧🎙

verrrry similar to standard replica munks makeup-wise ! however, fur wise.... say hi to mulletstrap. to manestrap. 2 me he is tuggers brother so he gets that. i have no justification for the mullet other than idk, looks good, is funny, and the oslo 1985 production was right to give him one. also he and demeter can match now

i do like when theyre seen as something of a prince... so say hi to the gothenburg and opera populaire-esque epaulettes. theyre cayoot. they also get warsaw munks Big Pant Vibes

give this man a break. hed be 30 in human years

macavity | 🔥 🥂 🎯

he was actually one of the first cats i made design notes for when i started hyperfixating on this musical like.... two months ago. i really tried to mix elements from a bunch of different designs 4 him.... and sorry yall hes a deut brother too. im predictable

the manginess, mane, more ginger-y head fur, tugger-ness and the mouth markings from the 2016 revival... the big big hair, white fur and general makeup from his replica design... and the stylings of il sistina mac with the fitted coat. he also gets unique eyelashes like tugger—this time white instead of gold. he also gets that ominous magic cat eye shading

i think he would act a lot like 2019 mac... suave. but also not as dorky and desperate as he is in that movie LOL. he'd be 33 in human years

ONLY ONE MORE LEFT..... THE OLDIES........ MAYBE... I MIGHT MAKE DESIGNS FOR SOME OF THE SWINGS TOO LOL

[marytoppins]

All of the book owners (so far) are the fictional authors of fictional fables and stories.

Mother Goose collection has Cinderella, Master cat or Puss in Boots, the sleeping beauty in the wood, little red riding hood, the fairy (all written for Louis the XIV in the 1690’s appx… the Grimm brothers are more relevant retelling sod the stories for an 1800’s Germany

Scherezade from 1001 Arabian nights started as one thousand nights and evolved to what is is now known as titular and story content wise. Having the ebony horse, the thief and the merchant, the adventures of Sinbad the sailor, and Aladdin and the lamp.

An interesting tidbit if the most famous stories from the collection (Aladdin and the Genie, Sinbad the sailor and Ali baba and the 40 thieves) they were either independent and added in later editions or added for the French publication in the 1830’s

And Aesops fables are from Ancient Greece and contain the basis for all fairy tales and fables such as the tortoise and the hare, the boy who cried wolf, the lion and the mouse, and others.

All of these story tellers also share things in common, all of them are either historically (Aesop) or designed to be (Mother Goose and Scherezade) people who are not wealthy, do not hold a position of power but wants to help the future.

Aesop was a Greek Slave who wanted to document the oral stories being told amongst the common folk and to also make commentary on the politics happening as well. With the commentary being seen as moral lessons for the children to grow and learn with.

Scherezade is the extremely learnéd daughter of the Vizier who agreed to me the next bride for the king to stop him from killing all the virgin wives he had. She constantly gets him to postpone her execution with the fables and changes his mind so he doesn’t assume all women will cheat immediately after sleeping with him. Giving the reader an idea of what knowledge can do.

Mother Goose is supposed to be a village woman who met a goose who laid golden eggs for her and eventually spun tales for the children of the village, entertaining and imparting lessons to them.

They all have some aspect of their stories that undermines their influence on change as well. For Aesop is is his state of slavery, for Scherezade it is volunteering to try and avoid death as long as humanly possible, and for Mother Goose it is the witch connotations that came about.

All of these coincidences and similarity paints a beautiful picture of humanity and imparting knowledge to the youth reading them but to have them all be relevant? WHY BRENNAN LEE MULLIGAN! WHY?!?!?!?!?!!?! WHY ARE ALL OF THESE SIMILARITIES APPARANT?!?!!? WHAT IS THE REASON?!?!!? WHAT IS THE IMPORTANCE?!?!!?

(Hi I am a Double Major in Psychology and History currently on a national scholarship research program, I just did a research paper on how popular media in each time reflects the politics of the time, meaning I did a LOT of digging into 1001 Arabian nights in terms of Orientalism, Mother Goose fables for the return of theatre (because of pantomime and an evolving comedia del arte) and Aesop was recent boredom research. Please message with questions if present!)

[sighonaraa]

I love dialogue prompts, they're so fun! How about: “Don’t feel like it today.”

ignore me taking approximately 5 million business years to get to all the dialogue prompts i've got languishing in my inbox............ ANYWAYS.

They're halfway through the season, and the ground's gone hard with frost most days. There's a nip to the air that bites, Roy's got a pair of Phoebe's lumpy, misshapen mittens in his pocket, and he's about to tear Tartt a new one if the muppet doesn't open his door in the next two minutes. He pulls his fist back and drives it forward; the door swings open before they reach and he drops his arm. "Where the fuck," he begins, and has to immediately stop, because Jamie's got his forehead pressed to the doorframe and there's a grey pallor to his face that is not, in any capacity, fucking normal. "Sorry, Coach," Jamie says--slurs, really, mouth barely opening enough to permit the words to pass through. He uses his elbow to push himself up, like that's going to fix anything. Like that's going to make Roy forget the rest of it. "Couldn't hear'ya." Roy swallows the last dregs of frostbitten anger. "Jesus Christ," he says, which--is definitely the wrong thing to say, considering Jamie flinches against it, shoulders hiking to his ears. "M'sorry," he mumbles. His movements are slow, lethargic. His eyes blink with all the laziness of a cat in the sun, except he's not a fucking cat in the sun, he's a fucking idiot who's gone and worked himself too hard and gotten sick about it. "M'ready, though. To, uh. Run." He does a pantomime of a runner, swinging his arms back and forth, and almost keels over with the exertion of it. Roy darts forward to nudge his shoulder beneath Jamie's. "Careful, you muppet," he says, softening the sharp edges of his voice the way he does with Phoebe when she's got a fever. Actually... He passes the back of his hand across Jamie's brow. Hotter than a skillet. Christ. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me you're not feeling well?" "Huh? M'feelin'...m'feelin' fine, Coach," Jamie says, attempting to swing his head up. It's a horrible fucking attempt. "So fine. Look, m'runnin' right now." "No, you're not," says Roy. Jamie's nose crinkles. "M'not?" "No," says Roy. "C'mon, let's go inside." "Nuh-uh. Gotta...gotta go. Do the trainin'." "You--" Roy grits his teeth; contemplates his options. Snow's beginning to fall from the clouds overhead, and the world's been cast in shades of echo and memory. The lamplight reflects off the wet pavement. All the windows along the street are dark. "I don't feel like it today." "Huh?" "I don't feel like training today," Roy repeats. He lifts Jamie a bit higher, tucks the lad beneath his arm. Shuffles them both across the threshold into the foyer. "C'mon, Jamie. Let's get inside."

[definitelynotshouting]

DEAR GODS. GUYS WHEN THEY CANNOT SHUT UP IN THE TAGS AND GET PERCEIVED ABOUT IT 😂😂😂😂

@legallycertifiedmcyttrash space au is a sci-fi scarian au that me and my friend @good-chimes (glossyblue on ao3) have been rotating at max speed and tossing at each other like a bouncy ball for like the past week now. The general premise i came up with is that Grian, the epitome of Just Some Guy (But There's Something Wrong With Him), has (what's on the surface) a meet-cute moment with alien!Scar while trying to find the owner of the very cute and mischievous catlike alien he's befriended while visiting Jupiter-based space station Hermetia.

A few things of note here:

It's been several years since the initial first contact; as there are no universal translators, negotiations on trade and treaties have been slow as each side attempts to learn multiple languages. This is new for EVERYONE, and diplomatic tensions are a bit fragile as a result.

The alien race (which we havent come up with a name for yet) is very felid-esque and has a variety of castes, some of which look a lot like uncanny-valley alien cats. Many of these specific caste-members are high-ranking leaders and diplomats.

The alien cat Grian is currently holding under his arm like a football while he searches for her owner is, in fact, one of these diplomats, and her name is Jellie. Scar is her (absolutely terrible) bodyguard.

Jellie knows just enough English to get by but can't really speak it. Scar knows absolutely zero English. They both, however, are basically fluent in Mandarin.

Grian doesn't speak Mandarin.

This results in a game of frantic pantomimes and charades on both ends until BigB, ambassador-in-training and the entire reason Grian is visiting this space station in the first place, gets called in to translate and smooth over the veritable disaster of a social faux pas that has just taken place. Jellie, who has some very specific ideas about diplomacy, and also thinks Grian fucking RULES, essentially says "yeah it's alright, he just has to join my retinue now." and suddenly Grian has a new job he can't refuse and it involves politics.

There's a lot more im not covering here, like some cultural context for Jellie and Scar's relationship, and the eventual plotline of Jellie's fellow high-ranking leader, Lizzie, having it out for her because of her ideas on diplomacy and trade relations-- and ofc the slowburn scarian that's happening because they've basically had to move in together, plus assorted cultural exchange hijinks-- but it's extremely funny, very heartfelt, and also involves fictional politics which is like catnip to me personally. And that is basically the cliff notes of space au, where we've barely even gotten into the worldbuilding for it but theres already so, so much material to work with WHEEEEEZE

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

If someone hasn’t already asked, what’s Blake’s opinion on Yang’s new RWBYJL look?

Oh, she likes it very much.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Blake: Wow.... Yang... you look so.... mature~

Yang: Thanks, Blake! I like your outfit too. Granted, I'm still not used to the lack of cat ears (pantomimes cat ears)

Blake: (eyes grazing over Yangs muscles and breastplate) Gods, what have you been eating...

Yang: Huh? Just the normal stuff-

Blake: ...and why is it not me?~

Yang: (jawdrops and blushes)