#saddle sores are the worst!

[edenavari]

On the Matter of Mirrors

Eddie is still trying to convince Steve he and Nancy are made for each other. It comes up, like, everytime they hang out, which is all the time, because Steve couldn’t stay away if he wanted to. He doesn’t, but he also wishes Eddie would quit trying to set him up with someone else. 

‘Cause, like, here’s the thing. Steve likes girls. He also, he realized sometime after Robin came out to him, quite likes boys. He likes Eddie. Like… Really likes him. Practices pick-up lines in front of the mirror kind of like. Wears a little more black and tousles his hair just right to give himself a subversive edge he never used to have, just the right amount to trigger a subconscious response without appearing to be tweaking his fashion sense at all. Has mastered the art of wearing eyeliner without looking like he’s wearing it, and it took him a fucking while to work up the nerve to go out like that, not that anyone but Robin noticed. 

But Eddie just will not drop the Nancy case, no matter how many times Steve tries to stir the conversation away from her, and between his budding crush and the crushing fear that it’s never gonna be anything but one-sided, between the slightest of sore spots Steve still sports about the way things with Nancy ended in the first place and the bitter edge of never managing for something to start with Eddie after weeks of efforts, it’s beginning to grate, right? 

“So what’s the problem?” Eddie insists, bounding circles around Steve like an eager puppy, and something in Steve’s ribcage snaps. 

They’re in Steve’s room studying when it comes up once a-fucking-gain. Eddie is taking accelerated summer classes so he can finally graduate by September, and by some inexplicable fuckery of fate, despite Steve’s own dirt poor records, he’s turning out to be a decent tutor. Something about Eddie managing to focus in a way a classroom environment never allowed him to. Maybe because most teachers and over half the student body were openly hostile at worst and aggressively ignoring Eddie at best, all because of his last name or his tattoos or his loud brassy cheek.

All the same, Eddie does get distracted fairly easily, and an hour in, he’s bounced off the bed and started rattling reasons Nancy Wheeler is definitely Steve Harrington’s soulmate. Steve groans noncommittally, gets up to grab his water from the desk and takes a long swallow as Eddie keeps needling him. 

“You’re the problem, Eddie,” he all but snarls, when he really meant it to come out exasperated at worst.

He snarls, though, and Eddie stiffens, his eyes going cold and hurt and the corner of his mouth turned down in anger. 

“Right,” he says, and it sounds so casual Steve thinks he won’t make a big deal of his tone after all. Fool’s hope. “I’ll get out of your perfect hair, then,” Eddie spits out as he makes for the door, only Steve stands in his way, hands up in surrender. 

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that,” he starts. 

“No, you’re right, it’s none of my business,” Eddie interrupts, but he steps back, gesturing wildly as he speaks. “It’s not like we’re even friends, you just got saddled with me because of Dustin. We saved the world together? Big deal! My involvement was incidental, really, more of an inconvenience than any kind of help. Why would you want my opinion, of all people’s, right? Even by this point. Get out of my way, I’ll quit stepping on your toes. Go on!”

“I don’t want you to go, Eddie,” Steve tries again. 

“Just want me to shut up, is that it? Not really my strong suit, you might have noticed.”

Steve can’t help smiling. “I have noticed.”

It only seems to rile Eddie up even more, throwing his hands out and making to step around Steve again. “Man, what do you want from me?”

“Is this allowed?” he breathes out, extending the last word beyond its scope. 

Which puts him within reaching distance of Steve, who grabs him by the lapels of his jacket and presses him, careful not to jostle him too bad but firm enough to counter his manic strength, against the wall. He doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything, just presses a touch too close, lets himself imagine that he’s going to close the distance entirely, cocks his head and licks his lips and hangs there in a way he hopes spells it out for Eddie without inducing any kind of panic. 

Eddie, hands still up at shoulder height, lets out a little huff close to a whimper when his back hits the wall, bracing himself for a hit that would never come, and maybe some part of him knows this, because he doesn’t look scared or angry anymore, just kind of confused with a side of grief, and it doesn’t take two seconds for him to start to look intrigued, maybe even, if Steve allows himself a little optimism, interested. 

His lips part on a sharp inhale, and they’re close enough to smell each other’s skin, and Eddie’s eyes drop to Steve’s mouth, a little watery and out of focus, edging forward in a way that could just be a twitch, just a consequence of holding his breath the way he is, plausibly deniable, subconscious no doubt, only when Steve mirrors the movement, he does it again, gaze moving up and down from Steve’s eyes to his lips and back and back again without blinking, until twitch by twitch their noses graze and their mouths connect and Steve closes his eyes and concentrates on maintaining that seal over Eddie’s plush, pliable pout, because if he didn’t focus, he’d be way, way overeager for a first kiss. 

He moves back after several seconds with a shaky exhale, swallows as he finds Eddie’s eyes again. His blood is thrumming in his fingertips, somehow he feels both cold between his shoulder blades and warm down to his toes, and if Eddie looks at all put out he thinks he might never manage another mirror in his life. 

The look on Eddie’s face is pure disbelief. 

Steve shrugs, not quite settled on the matter of mirrors. “I thought you made a point of breaking the rules?”

A glint starts to wake in Eddie’s eye that’s looking more delighted by the minute. 

“Just as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“We’re in the clear, then,” Steve whispers, leaning in, just a smidge. 

Both of Eddie’s hands sink into his hair as he pulls him into another, much steamier, kiss. Steve lets his fists fall from Eddie’s lapels and knot over his back instead, lets his mouth drop slightly open, an invitation Eddie wastes not a second to follow through on, teeth scraping and back arching like he wants to sink all the way into Steve, and by the time they’re parting, breathless, cheeks flushed, mouths stinging, Steve’s one hand is braced against the wall, holding himself up, knees too weak to do the job on their own. 

“I thought you could barely stand me,” Eddie heaves.

“I can’t,” Steve admits. “You drive me nuts. Just not how you thought.”

Eddie frowns, suddenly serious. 

“You should forget all about Nancy.”

Steve frowns too. “That so?”

“Hm-mm. She’s taken, man. And not all that. You need to move on.”

“Damn,” Steve sighs. “Am I being desperate?”

“Pathetic,” Eddie nods, barely a whisper against Steve’s lips, and they break into smiles in tandem. “Forget all about her,” Eddie repeats. 

“Who?” Is the last word Steve gets out. Then he’s busy enough he really does forget. 

When he fixes his hair in the bathroom mirror in the morning, he walks away with a wink.

Give us a kudos, if ye dare x

[mostlymaudlin]

i made a joke on twitter that someone should write a crack fic that opens with Andrew riding the horse in TKM and he’s like “bet you’re wondering how i ended up here.”

and well. then this happened:

You’re probably wondering how I ended up here.

A horseback ride in the Blue Ridge mountains sounds idyllic, if you’re the kind of person that takes vacations straight out of the free tourist brochures at gas stations. I am not that person.

In fact, I had never been on any vacation before this week. If I were to take a vacation of my choosing, I would absolutely not be doing an activity that requires me to activate my core while breathing air that smells like animal shit.

Yet here I am. Sitting on a horse double my height, following a group of people I don’t even particularly like down a stinky, too-green path through the woods.

You might ask, why did you put yourself in this situation? It’s a good question, and I fear I have the worst answer of all:

There’s this guy.

I know, I know, how cliche. If it helps, I am not prone to them: I’m an orphan but not a Chosen One. I’m a college athlete who couldn’t care less about winning. I’m a twin but I’m nothing like my brother.

The boy problems, though? I’ve got ‘em. And oh, do I know how to pick ‘em.

Neil’s horse ambles down the wide path next to mine. The man himself is slumped forward in his saddle, reins held loosely in his bandaged hands. Neil has the misfortune of being very murder-able, so the bandages are a more common part of his whole look than one would hope.

This most recent bout of “almost getting killed” was particularly… vexing. (We don’t need to go into detail. All you need to know is that I didn’t handle it well.) Neil is moving on, though. He’s taking in the scenery, and his expression befits a tourist brochure even if the rest of him screams, “I should probably still be in a hospital.” When he catches me looking his lips curve into a small smile, and Reader, it is imperative that you understand how passionately I hate him.

“This is cool,” Neil says.

“Well, as long as you’re enjoying it,” my cousin grumbles from behind us. Nicky enjoys nature about as much as I do. I shoot him a look, and he mimes zipping his mouth shut.

Neil only shrugs, leaning further against the neck of his horse. I’m not sure how he’s awake. In the last four nights, he’s slept in a hospital, on a cot in an FBI conference room, on a dorm room floor, and then finally one night in a real bed in the luxurious “cabin” our teammates are renting. Minus the hospital, I’ve dealt with the same sleeping arrangements (yes, including the giant fluffy bed, no, we will not make a big deal of it). Even without the copious injuries, I do not have why don’t we go horseback riding? energy. But somehow Neil, with his half-melted face and arms, has giddied up to come smile at me and the sky and the trees.

This brings me to my point: I’m in deep. I’m so fucked. This morning, I would have told you that you’d never catch me in touching range of a horse. But for twelve hours, I thought Neil Josten might be dead; if he’s going to stand in front of me, saying he wants to go horseback riding, then yeah, every person on this goddamn team is going to get on a goddamn horse unless they want me to gut them.

My thighs are so sore and itchy. I’m on a horse that smells worse than my gear bag, swatting away flies and dodging low branches. I genuinely hate the present moment. It’s my fault, I know: these are the perils of letting ourselves fall for stupid ass men. These are the perils of getting attached to anyone at all.

But put yourself in my shoes. Really visualize it — they are cowboy boots with honest to god spurs, and I was forced to pay money to rent them.

Now ask yourself: Did I really have any other choice?

now on ao3!

[mechalily]

MOMENTS OF BREEZINESS | PART 1

(𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐) tags: fem!reader, fluff, slight OOC, usage of japanese terms, teenager Geto, no y/n usage. word count: 1,4k

(⭒✮⭒) synopsis: beautiful moments of your youth you'll cherish forever. after all those years, you still remember the day Geto's made a move on you

GETO SUGURU, JULY 2006

♫₊˚.🎧 ✧ now playing: Lemon Demon - Fine

that was a hot, boiling hot summer day. no matter how many years you've lived in Japan — july with all its humidity combined with high temperatures has never become more bearable for you nor for the locals. you wore a white cotton sundress, which was pretty opposite to your common dark purple jujutsu academy uniform. no loose hair, no fashionable boots, even no backpack: you put all the efforts into fighting the insufferable heat, yet it still wasn't enough. dripping sweat, you impatiently tapped your leg, enjoying the satisfating sound of a shoe platform knocking against the dry ground.

higher ups, being the insensitive jerks they were, sent you and your classmate Geto, who was considered a special grade unlike you, the second grade sorcerer, off to Enoshima island. due to packing up in 30 minutes before getting on a train and spending an hour on the entire way in the dead of night, you felt drained out and sore. fighting the curses wasn't very tough with Geto by your side yet you still were exhausted and the weather didn't help. currently it was 13:12 — the worst part of the day where sane people stay in the coolness of their homes or working places but you were a sorcerer, so no sagacity coming from you should be expected. after all, the "tough times bring opportunities" principle guided you throughout life and how could you lose an opportunity to have fun at Enoshima island?

although waiting for a bus for almost 40 minutes made you reconsider your decision. maybe you shouldn't risk getting a sunstroke and chill in the quitness off your hotel like Suguru instead? during sunrise, after you two have completed your mission, you suggested him to go with you, but Geto politely declined, saying that swallowing curses is incredibly energy-consuming so he would prefer to have a nap before heading back to Tokyo.

"well, your loss," you shrugged shoulders nonchalantly, to which he only chuckled. now you've realized Geto was the one to make a smart choice.

you were already stepping away from the bus stop, internally giving up on the beach, but sudden sound of a ring bell and squeak of wheels accompanying it grabbed your attention.

"this dress suits you a lot, ojou-chan," familiar soft-spoken voice immediately made you turn back. Geto Suguru himself was sitting on the saddle: he jauntily flipped his gorgeous, half-bun half-down hair, swang his leg over the seat and came up to you, dragging the bike along by its handlebar.

"Geto-kun!" you gasped. "didn't you stay at the hotel? and what's with ojou-chan?" him complimenting you like this was very flustering, since usually Suguru was the calm and even a bit aloof one in your class, unlike his best friend Gojo.

"i did. it's just that thoughts of you being at Enoshima's lively coast all alone overwhelmed me, so I decided to at least watch over if anything happens. and i have to get something for Satoru and Ieri too: can you imagine Satoru's whinings if I returned from oh so famous Enoshima island empty-handed? he would act insufferable," Geto started fanning himself with his shirt which indicated the heat getting at him too. for a second you peeked at his bare chiseled abs before he stopped with the billowing. "talking of ojou-chan... it's quite fitting for someone with looks as mesmerizing as yours," is it for real? is that the proper yet distant man you've always shared classroom with in Tokyo Jujutsu High or you are hallucinating because of the heat?

"oh, dear... it's really unlikely for you to, ugh-" you pondered whether you should just straight-forwardly call it "flirting" or mess around the bush for awhile, "to speak in such manner, if you know what i mean," due to sheepishness your voice was barely above a whisper yet Geto still heard it.

"hm? i have no clue about what are you talking about," Suguru blinked innocently, batting his awfully long eyelashes. 'of course he knows!' you thought to yourself, and his teasings (as additional source of heat) almost made steam go out of your ears.

"y-you!.. anyways, we are not going to the beach. i'm already overheated, and it won't get better unless i have some mugicha and well-deserved rest in my hotel room," sometimes stubborness is meaningless, and this is the exact moment when you should give up and change plans. "you can go alone if you are still interested but I'm heading back."

"i'm not interested in going anywhere without you," Geto simply stated. his casual behaviour didn't go with flirty speeches, and you hadn't have an idea on how to act around him from now on. you've always been on good terms with each other, yes, but your bonds were not that strong. it was Satoru who complemented Suguru like yin and yang and you spent most of the time with Shoko. "how about a nice joyride? me, you, Enoshima's scenery. it won't take long yet will make the heat go away," he tossed his hair once again and the bun fell over; before you could've reacted, Geto put hair tie in his mouth and started pulling his hair back to make a proper bun. you stared in awe, unable to take your eyes off him. the definition of "beauty", standing right in front of you, looked like a model. now you could understand Gojo's obsession with collecting Waka Inoue's DVD's where she walked around some pretty scenery wearing a bikini or a tiny dress. if Suguru was filmed like that, you would buy this DVD and rewatch the video daily.

"is there something on my face?" he raised an eyebrow and realization of your latest thoughts and actions hit you.

"u-ugh, no! nothing's there! i was just...uh...contemplating, yeah. contemplating it is," your awkward mumbling made the male smirk.

"contemplating me? wow, i feel so honored. though being watched under your rigorous gaze is somewhat awkward," nothing in Suguru's smug expression showed awkwardness. towering over you, blinding you with his eye-catching looks (which he was fully aware of and not oblivious as he pretended to be at Jujutsu High), Geto drowned you deeper in insanity caused by the heat. he wasn't Satoru so you couldn't smack him though you really wanted to.. "how about contemplating my suggestion, hm?"

"I'd like to accept it but there is one tiny obstacle.." fine, let it be! if he acts like a player and toys around, why can't you have a little game? "it's illegal to ride a bike with a passenger without actual second seat, and I can't see another bike with you. what a bad, bad guy you are, violating the law", you playfully chided at him.

"if I'm the bad guy, there must be a goodie two shoes to set me down, right?" he chuckled, but then gave you a cunning grin. "seems like it isn't that hot. i assume you can handle such heat effortlessly, isn't it? if so, i might just continue my bike-stroll. bye-bye-e-"

"hey, wait! no backsies, i'm going with you!", you interrupted Geto by grabbing his sleeve — he was already preparing to push off and ride away.

"so you ended up joining a criminal?" Suguru faked a disappointed look while you were making yourself comfortable on a back of his saddle.

"from now on, we are an outlaw couple," you nod seriously not without a cheeky streak to it.

"and how about being a couple in general?" the way he asked this so lightly had butterflies in your stomach awoken.

not wanting to give in into his antics, you replied in the same jiggish manner, like it was just some pleasantry-exchange and not the event which would make you circle today's date on the calendar with a postscript 'best day in my life!', "i'll consider it... after a nice trip, of course."

"then hold on tightly. we don't want you falling off and getting injured, so put your hands as if you are hugging me and don't want to let go," following Geto's instructions, you couldn't help but notice how intensively his heart was beating, almost hitting his ribs.

"as if? and what if i don't want to let you go for real?" you naughtily grinned, burying yourself in the nape of his back. you've never ever been that close. now you could smell his soap, light airy fragrance filling your nostrils with each inhale.

"oh dear. you are flattering me," vibrations from Suguru's chuckle made you feel all giddy and giggly. "do it like you mean it, then!" with those words Geto pushed off the ground and Enoshima's views quickly turned into fast-changing panorama, sea breeze clearing your lungs.

*ojou-chan — semi-formal way for an older people to address young women. depending on context, can be translated like "young lady" or "cute little girl" with a bit of indulgence (?)

* mugicha — roasted-grain-based infusion made from barley. has a toasty, bitter flavor.

[hcdragonwrites]

Spring Grooming

(a @digitalagepulao Fanfic)

I had brain fire from listening to Hoizers music so - HAVE A LITTLE FIC OF COMFORT AND BROTHERLY TENDERNESS !

The pines gave off their fresh and sharp scent as the rain continued to drip from them. Needles couldn’t hold the heavy drops up and instead shook them off when the weight became heavy and made their barren bases wet and cool. Pine needles crunch beneath horse hooves, spicing the air further. The rain cleansed the mountain air only for the pilgrims to churn the forest floor in their wake.

Spring was heavy in its breath upon the earth. The rain would have been snow if the sweet kiss of the turning season hadn’t warmed the earth. Instead her rain triggered a riot of colors and initiated animals and plants both to begin to grow again, to seek life, and to awaken from winters cold rest. Ba Longma felt his coat heavy on his body. As a dragon he had never felt the strange mammal tendency to grow hair king in a winter coat to stop the cold from stealing over his bones.

However his horse like form had other instincts, and one was to grow fluffier and thicker about. In the deep snows and the cold hail, when the sleet had slashed the other pilgrims and made their teeth chatter, he had been thankful for his bodies sudden growth. As eldest disciple, the eldest of the brothers among the merry band, it fell to him to carry his Master and tend him. He had spent less days in his humanoid form, and more as a horse - determined with will to carry his master through the worst of storms. To break paths in the frozen snows. The cold couldn’t touch him. Even as the ice formed in his mane and fetlocks, across his body where the sweat rolled off and in his tail.

Now spring was here. Ba felt his body sweating in the heat of the now warmer world. What had given him an edge, an advantage, was now making him suffer. He longed to scratch it off- to seek a low hanging batch of pinewoods and rub himself against them. He had tried to get out of the heat as a man but when he returned to this horse body, it held stubbornly to its habitual rotation. He was a magical steed but even that didn’t prevent the instincts of the seasons from effect his body. Sweat beaded beneath the saddle and it’s blanket, creating a crust of salt that itched and chaffed him. The girth that swung beneath his belly and held the contraption of leather and wood to his back, rubbed and creaked at each step he made.

Ba Longma had noticed the slight cracks beginning to appear in the leather- stiffened by the salt of his body and cracked by the movement. They would need to replace it or Master would experience an unexpected fall when the leather finally cracked and the cloth gave beneath the weight. He held his tongue, walking slowly onward.

When Tripitaka called for a stop for the day, for the mid meal and a bit of rest for himself, along a felt relieved. The terrible itch of his sweat, of the excess fur, had built from annoying buzz to a incomprehensible urge. His instinct was to rub, to roll, to cake his backside in dry cool dirt and to rub himself free of the fur and sweat. It had taken all his will power not to shake himself and beg his Master for a bit of relief.

As Wujing and Bajie set about starting the fire and cooking the rice and setting to chopping and mixing brown sugar into bowls with fruit to make candied sweets for snacking on, it was Wukong that came up to Tripataka and Longma.

“Shifu.” The stone monkey held out a hand and Trip took it. He dismounted, legs bowed from the long day in the saddle. Longma felt a twinge of worry. Did Shifu suffer from saddle sores? Had he been too rocky in his gait? Did he jostle him too much in the saddle ? These things hummed in the eldest disciples mind as Trip made to start taking the tac from his body. A monkey paw reached up and stopped him. “I will take care of Longma.”

“Are you sure Wukong?” Tripataka asked again. He had his hands on the bridle, fingers over the buckles that kept it in place.

“Of course Master. Go go- make sure that Bajie doesn’t eat too many palm fruits before they can be turned to candies.”

“I heard that!” The pig demon snorted, tusks flashing threateningly. They were not as sinister however at the flash of the cheeky smile of the youngest disciple. Trip hesitated only a second more before he settled onto a long and rubbed at his inner calves, relieving the cramps built there from the long day of riding.

Wukong turned an eye back to Ba Longma and the dragon horse saw a twinkle of something there.

“Now brother- I’ve noticed your switching tail all the way from the pine forest to here,” the little monkey crossed his arms taking on a scolding tone, “and you cannot fool me. You are uncomfortable.”

“I am not..” Longma spoke so few times in this shape. It felt strange to have the words rumble up and out of his throat and between teeth that were flat except the canines he retained from dragon shape.

“You lie poorly.” Wukong undid the chin strap of the bridle, pulling the top of the bridle free of Longmas ears. He let gravity slide the metal bit out of his mouth and Longma champed and licked his mouth back into order. Having the bit in his mouth, the metal contraption that sat over his tongue and across his mouth had at first, been something to get used to. Longma didn’t think it was entirely necessary - until he realized that his master was so light of hand and leg that he hardly asked anything of him in the rider fashion. Riding depended on leg and pressure - and Tripataka was too kind to even press his heels to his eldest disciples sides. Longma had decided then to keep the bridle so he could better sense when Shifu asked him to turn or gave the reins a gentle tap to coax him into faster gaits.

“I do not lie Little Brother.” He spoke softly, always feeling ill at ease when he spoke in this shape. “I just silently endure.”

“BAH!” The Monkey set the bridle carefully on a overturned stump and came back. He went for the girth, that terrible bit of leather that made Longmas under legs itch. “I was the keeper of Heavenly Horses. I learned the body language and silent speech of them. And you may be a dragon in disguise but you speak quite clearly of your discomfort.”

“Swishing tail, ears flicking back at odd intervals- the stamp of a hoof - you are uncomfortable.” The girth came free in a jangle of buckles and bands and Longma breathed out in a gratified snort. The saddle came free, the sticky blanket with it.

Wukong pulled a few hairs from his head and chewed them. When he blew them out he had a brush, a metal band that looked like a comb, an a curved iron piece.

“Let me tend you Brother. You carry our master day in and day out. Let me help as I know how.” The little brother asked, holding up the metal comb. Longma sighed. What he really wanted was to roll very undignified like in a nice patch of earth or sand. Instead he cocked one ear towards the stone monkey and nodded.

Wukong gave a little whoop of triumph then set to work. Though it had been five hundred years since he attended and took care of the horses of heaven, the knowledge of that time hadn’t faded. Wukong took the brush and began to tackle the sweat patch on the dragon horses back. He had to get the worst of the sweat off before it settled into a crust of hair and itchiness. So he set to brushing, first moving in little circles over the withers and down the back to break of where the sweat had tangled in the fur. Dirt and shedding fur came up in a flurry as the monkey worked his magic.

“Brother! You are shedding! You must be so uncomfortable in this heat.” Wukong tutted and cooed back, setting his hands to a flurry. Once the worst of the sweat and road dirt had been brushed and taken off the back, Wukong switched to the metal comb. Carefully and gently, to avoid the press of the metal on the points where the bone jutted or was closer to the surface, he brought the comb up and over. Clumps of the winter coat began to fly free in great flurries of white and grey.

The stone monkey was careful and diligent in his task. He found it soothing to brush and groom, to tend and care as he had when he had been in Heaven but also when he had been among his people. It almost pulled him into a trance like state, the task becoming enjoyable and habitual. Horse skin was sensitive, highly sensitive to the touch of flies on the withers, to the brush their velvet nose to feel sweet shoots of grass. He was gentle in the press of the comb, understanding that the metal bristles could hurt if applied with too much pressure.

Longma felt his head dipping lower and lower as the monkey set to work. Wukong combed his legs, his chest, his withers and shoulders. The relief! Longma felt the cool air kissing his skin as the old winter coat came free. A flurry of hair was gathering at his hooves, a great gathering of white grey fur. The two pilgrims stood in companionable silence, Longma soothed into almost slumber and Wukong consumed with the task of grooming. They were so absorbed they didn’t notice the birds of spring diving and gathering the great tufts of the dragon horses fur. Nesting materials this numerous were not to be frowned upon and the birds had a bountiful harvest for making nests and lining their woven work with the white down of Longmas winter coat.

“There brother doesn’t that feel better ?” Wukong finished removing most of the winter coat. The Monkey chuckled, seeing the half asleep expression upon the dragon horses face. It would be a time before the rest would give way. Winter fur always liked to cling and stay even after the dregs of spring have moved well into a summer balm.

“Alright Ba Longma, let me check your hooves.” The Stone monkey didn’t know if the senior disciple heard him. So Wukong set to the task of hoof care. He gently pressed into the horses leg and Longma lifted the foot instinctively.

“Brother! You have rocks all throughout the crevices!” Wukong truly was appalled now to see the state of the horses hooves. Such impaction with the hooves over time could lead to limping which could lead to further pain or, worse, lameness! Wukong champed his teeth and tutted more.

“You will go lame if you keep silent and then where will we be ?”Wukong spun the pick in hand and set it to the compacted hoof. He dug out the worst of the dirt and compacted little stones, careful of the sensitive parts in the middle of the foot called a frog. People thought horses to be tough and enduring animals when they needed as much care as a mistress of a fancy and rich house. They needed manicures and pedicures, grooming and tending, careful watch of diet and attention to detail. Each leg Wukong grumbled and chided the older disciple at his lack of self care and Longma simply sighed and grumbled. The dragon horse puffed in contentment. Now this… this was the life.

Wukong set the last hoof down and patted the white flank of his companion.

“From now on I will take care of you- we can’t have the senior disciple limping now can we?” Wukong chortled and left his brother to lie down and groan in relief.

“Thank you Brother…” Spring never felt so nice against Longmas now soothed and lighter fur, his brushed and tended body. The horse folded himself into the earth and closed his eyes, ready for a nice long and sweet nap. The birds flitted and landed upon the white flanks, plucking hairs and thick winter fur free. Longma felt none of their little ministrations as he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

[nekropsii]

Hussie is not very good at writing Romantic Relationships.

[This is all Stream of Consciousness. Don't mind the meandering.]

On its own, this is fine, of course. That's a skill that sits squarely within it's own niche, and not every story needs romance in it. The trouble with this is how much the notion of Romantic Shipping is embedded to the story, down to defining its own unique Romance System... More than once.

Relationships are a key Narrative Device in Homestuck's storytelling- everyone is aware of this. The unique focus that Homestuck has on the interpersonal relationships that the cast has with one another is fascinating, and arguably one of, if not the biggest reason(s) why people are so enamored with the story and it's characters to begin with. So, that begs the question... If that's the case, why do the Romantic Relationships kind of suck, and why do so many people act like they don't? Moreover, why do so many people tend to push the blame onto specific pairings, rather than acknowledge that maybe... Hussie just wasn't equipped as a writer to write Romance?

Hussie's work has never been particularly focused on the idea of Romance. I can't think of a single piece of media he's released where that's even anywhere close to being on the table, outside of Homestuck itself. Their work tends towards somewhat High-Concept Fiction, with Lowbrow Surreal Humor tied to (usually Body-based) Horror- comics with a clearly communicable premise. Relationships are never truly the core focus- the premise is, whether that premise has the complexity of Whistles: The Starlight Calliope, or the simplicity of Humanimals. The focus was the absurdity of the story and premise itself. Hussie undeniably knew their niche. He knew what he was good at writing and illustrating, and they banked on it. Noting here that none of this is truly praise; think of it solely as a mild dissection.

The point is, to our knowledge, this would have been new grounds for Hussie, and the fact that it quickly became the heart of the story and the main appeal of the comic was most definitely a tricky transition. Luckily, since most of the audience was- and still is- so obsessed with Shipping, many people were quite willing to overlook the fact that the Romance is underdeveloped at best, and downright tacky at worst. From my scope on things, people tend to target Rosemary (Rose <3 Kanaya) in particular as the prime example of Poor Romance Writing, despite being one of the chief examples of Hussie's best work with Romance. The poorer examples tend to get swept under the rug, or even put on a pedestal, with people's mental image of the pairing far overriding their grip of what is and isn't actually canon- from Roxygen's (Roxy <3 Egbert) near nonexistence, to GamKar's (Gamzee <> Karkat) utter failure, to GamTav's (Gamzee <3 Tavros) existence as a joke.

I feel as if part of the issue is the scale of Homestuck's story. It's a Creation Myth that's saddled with a lot of thickly interwoven, tangled lore. The story is more something like a Power of Friendship kind of deal than a RomDrama. The grandiosity of the end goal makes it so that intensely focusing on the little details of these characters lives and their relationship with one another can be difficult to balance, especially considering the sheer size of the cast... Hussie put far too much on her plate as an indie creator to manage all these threads, even if they were good at writing relationships in the first place.

The real meat lies in the Platonic. Homestuck contains within itself a nice variety of very, very interesting friendships that are all but sorely neglected by the average fan, and it's quite upsetting...

[invisibleraven]

T-R-O-P-E

Trope: Bathing <-AO3 link!

Warnings: Implied sexy times, sex work

Pairing: Julie/Reggie/Kayla

The horses nickered as they came to a stop, getting a pat to the neck as their riders slid down to hitch them to the post outside the small hotel they had found.

Well hotel was probably generous, it was more likely a saloon with rooms to rent, usually with company. But they had been here before, and that was always an optional feature they usually didn’t avail themselves of. Well unless the woman of the house was free and willing.

“You okay darlin’?” Reggie asked Julie as they approached the door.

“Bit sore, long day in the saddle,” Julie replied, hands bracing her back. “And a tad peckish.”

Reggie nodded, looping an arm around her waist. “I’m sure Kayla has something kept warm for us.”

Kayla was the Madame here, and a good friend to them both. They made a point to stop in when they could, between cattle drives and the odd jobs they took in the off season.

She waved as they entered, though it was a subtle thing, as she was with a gentleman at the moment, setting him up with one of her girls for the evening for a decent amount of coin. She was a bit more discerning about the clients she took, but if Julie and Reggie wanted a tumble with her, she was always game. And by the smiles they sent her as they moseyed up to their preferred table for a drink and a bowl of stew, so were they.

Unfortunately, business came first, so Kayla had to kept her callers engaged and happy before she got to have any fun. Finally she was able to sit at their table, snagging the last dregs of Reggie’s ale and Julie’s bread. “Hello my lovelies, what’s new?’

“Cattle rustlers, stagecoach robberies, the usual,” Julie replied, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “Happy to see the old girl standing.”

Kayla smiled, taking in her old bordello, the Sweete Shoppe. She could boast that it was all hers, though she’d had to fight tooth and nail to keep it so. It was clean, her girls were well treated, and good at what they did. So that reputation kept the doors open and the liquor flowing. “Until the next rainy day that takes the roof out anyways,” Kayla conceded. “I presume you’re in need of a room?”

“And a hot bath if you’re able,” Reggie admitted. “Been dying to scrub this dust off of me since Carthage.”

“I may only be able to get you the one tub, but there’s hot water and soap to spare,” Kayla replied. “And I’ll get you the biggest one we’ve got so if you want to share…”

Julie laughed at that. “You know what Reggie is like about his baths.”

“So I like baths, what of it?” Reggie replied with a pout. “But I also like the two of you, especially all wet and soapy so I might be more amenable to sharing.”

“Philanderer,” Kayla teased with a playful smack. “I’ll get Nellie to get the tub on the go if you want to stay for Carrie’s number, and then I’ll join you?”

“Well we can’t miss Carrie,” Julie agreed, blowing Kayla a kiss as she went off to arrange things, Reggie winking when she looked back at the pair.

It wasn’t too much later that she escorted them to their room-the large copper tub steaming and full of suds, making Reggie groan in bliss. He and Julie used the small pitcher and basin to rinse off the worst of the dust while Kayla amused herself fluffing pillows and adding some of her private stock of oils and perfumes to the bath.

Reggie sunk in first-he really was the bigger fan of baths, sighing as the heat released some of the tension in his sore muscles. Julie sat opposite him once her curls were arranged atop her head, stretching out her legs until her toes tickled his hip. His scowl did little to discourage her until he sent a flurry of suds her way, causing a shriek.

“I have plenty of soap, you fiend!” she teased, making a show of rubbing the yellow bar over her body oh so slowly, noting his rapt attention.

Reggie was less diligent with his cleaning, until Kayla stopped his rush and told him to make sure he made the most of the bath since goodness knows when he’d have another. She smirked as he slowed down, his eyes flitting between Julie still sensually washing herself and Kayla oh so slowly taking off her clothing until she shimmied over to the tub.

Kayla sat just outside the tub for a bit, admiring them both, helping wash those places that are hard to reach on one’s own. And perhaps letting her clever fingers wander to the places they all longed for her to touch in a fleeting, teasing manner. “Room for me?” she asked coyly.

“Always mi cielo,” Julie replied, pulling her legs back, with Reggie moving his so that she could sit between them.

Kayla almost moaned as she submerged herself in the hot water-it was bliss after a long and sweaty day. Plus the tender affections from the two surrounding her didn’t hurt either. Rough and calloused hands that worked the soreness from her shoulders, softer ones that lathered her body with soap. “You two spoil me,” she purred.

“Well you always take such good care of us,” Reggie rasped, snagging her earlobe with his teeth, making her gasp. Then even louder as his large hands pried her thighs open for Julie to assault with her own brand of clever touches that made Kayla long for more.

“Someone has to take care of you,” Julie continued, all predatory and pulling Kayla into a kiss. Uncaring that it was sloppy from the start or that it sent water sloshing over the side of the tub as her hands found her target, Reggie’s coming up to massage her breasts. She was gasping for breath when Julie pulled away, only to have her mouth then captured by Reggie, a passionate, eager kiss that had her mind reeling.

Finally Kayla wrenched her mouth away, fanning herself. “Well after that you two can care for me anytime-though I suggest we move this to the bed before we flood my saloon.”

They were wet and slippery and giggling as they got out, racing for the bed, uncaring as they soaked the sheets-Kayla had fresh ones laid out for later anyways-she knew what they were like. Plus their fun always ensured there was a need for two sets regardless.

It was much later-sated, and luxuriating in the now cooling bath to wash off the rest of their mess that Kayla sighed. “I suppose you’re off again in the morning?”

“You know we have to go sweetness-our life is never a restful one,” Reggie said mournfully, punctuating it with a kiss to the back of her hand.

“We’ll come back when we can, you know that,” Julie promised, kissing the inside of her wrist.

“I just wish it could be more often,” Kayla lamented. “But I could never leave here to be with you, and I know your lives are migratory at the best of times.”

“Maybe they don’t have to be,” Reggie said. “We could find work around here easily enough.”

“I couldn’t ask you to-”

A finger found its way to Kayla’s lips. “We’re not saying you are,” Julie assured her. “We’re offering. We miss you while we’re out there, so this would be a way for us all to be happy.”

“And you wouldn’t get jealous when I take clients?” Kayla asked, her voice small.

“We’ve always been good with sharing,” Reggie replied. “As long as we get priority.”

Kayla laughed at that, but nodded, then shivering as the water started to turn frigid. “Okay, out out, I know even if you like baths you can’t like cold ones.”

They all agreed, wrapping themselves in thick robes and towels as the tub got carted away, feasting on a late night snack of fruit and pastry-luxuries that Julie and Reggie didn’t often get out on the trail. Then off to bed, sleeping soundly in their clean sheets-well until the morning when they mussed them up again.

Usually when Julie and Reggie checked out, Kayla was a little melancholy, but not today-they had promised to come back soon, and to stay, at least for a while after that. This time the separation wouldn’t be as agonizing. Still she took her time helping them dress-twisting Julie’s curls into a braid, straightening Reggie’s vest, pinning the silver stars to their chest.

“Spose we should settle accounts before we mosey,” Reggie said. “How much Kay-Kay?”

“Ten,” Kayla replied. “For the room, food, and bath.”

“And the company?” Julie asked.

Kayla shook her head, grinning at them both. “For you two? I’m complimentary.”

[vitaliskravtsov]

37 for Spotify Wrapped!

37) At St Patrick's Purgatory - Samuel Barber

O King of the churches and the bells

Bewailing your sores and your wounds

But not a tear can I squeeze from my eyes!

Jack lounges in the chair in lessons. He's not inattentive, that's the thing, he's never been. He's simply... checked out. Anxious. Thinking about something else.

Probably the invading front. Probably his horse needing to be saddled. Probably his father's war planning meetings.

Definitely not Kent, and where Kent was going to be when the battle finally made it to them.

Kent takes notes, follows the Latin tutorial. This won't continue after the war. This won't continue if Jack dies. This won't continue if Kent has to survive on the graces of King Zimmermann and his master. He knows he's lucky as it is, being left to patch up Jack's heart and prop up Jack's Latin and train at night.

Jack doesn't notice that Kent has other things to do, either, just offers up his scrapes to Kent to fix.

It takes three months, but too soon the battle is at their doorstep, no longer a series of letters from the King, but the reality of Jack's new tower room and Kent's new home in a tent that's more mud than cloth.

The bells of the church still toll every hour, but it's more of a fucked-up reminder that there's more time left to nightfall than you fucking thought was possible.

The worst part, maybe, is that Kent still crawls back to Jack's room every night, tends to his scrapes from shaving and knives and clumsiness.

He still sleeps in the tent.

He watches his friends die.

He soothes Jack's bruises.

Two and a half weeks later, the King lets Jack lead a charge because he's lying in bed, disabled from cholera.

Two and a half weeks later, Kent watches Jack become unhorsed. He turns away, more horrified than anything else.

Still, he can't cry. It's the aggregate of the years of scrapes, Kent supposes, given all at once.

He leaves before he can see the rest.

[nyrasbloodyclover]

the great war (aemond targaryen x oc)

masterlist (read the warnings!!)

a/n: aemond is the only momma's boy (ew) i will ever accept

5. the allies

She could barely breathe. The wind was hitting Reila's face in full force as she tried to get up, but she soon realized that might not be the best idea. She was on a dragon. Thousand feet in the air. Tied to a war criminal.

One of the options was to panic and scream, now that she came to her senses, but that would lead her nowhere. For all that Reila knew he could push her off the Vhagar for being annoying.

He needs you alive, she reminded herself, and somehow that sounded like the worst faith she could imagine. He was taking her to King's Landing. Gods help her.

Aemond turned his head, making only his eye patch visible. "Try not to move much or I'll have to explain to my mother why I only brought her your guts."

"I kind of like the idea of that," she returned and forced herself not to regret it. She was stupid for challenging him. He let out a rich laugh that muffled with the sound of wind and she sighed of relief. He was silent, but his hand reached for the rope that tied them together and he pulled it, so it dug even deeper in her skin. 

The saddle was big enough for three so she was able to lie down comfortably without touching him-which was a blessing.  She might collapse if he came any closer that he is now.

She was left alone with her thoughts and she began thinking of her father. Does he know where she is now?  Will he attack King's Landing? Probably not. That would be a foolish decision. What happened to Tully's army? She had no idea.

And that's how the rest of the ride passed-with utter silence that wind seemed to replace.

Then she began to notice the land. And the stone buildings on it. Westeros' capital suddenly appeared beneath them and Reila's anxiety went off the roof. She kept telling herself that she could do it, that there was nothing worse than her life at Riverrun, but now that they are here, she wasn't so sure anymore.

"Home sweet home. Don't you think, zoklītsos?" The last word was in High Valyrian which Reila couldn't begin to understand because her knowledge of the language was minimal.

"You are better off not knowing what I think." She responded without a remorse.

"Smart little creature," he mocked, "But hold your tongue in front of my mother. She is lethal when she has to be."

They landed and Aemond Targaryen untied her, then reached for her to help her get down. "I can manage."

"Trust me, you can't."

She looked down, below Vhagar and wanted to take her words back. One wrong step and she could end up splattered across the floor of the dragon pit.

But Reila was stubborn, almost as stubborn as her father and while Aemond looked at her from down below, Reila took the many ropes hanging from Vhagar's back and began to climb down. She grew up in the North. There was no need to climb anywhere. Most of all— dragons, but there is a first time for everything.

Step by step and she was down. Only then she felt her whole body ache. Her legs were sore, her throat hurt and she could barely use her arms. Reila's head was as heavy as a rock from the lack of sleep and she doubted she would get much here.

"Move. The Queen is waiting." He took her by the forearm and pulled her forward. But she swore he sounded satisfied for some reason. Like she passed a test of some kind.

"You are supposed to tie my hands, are you not? I am a prisoner now."

"Prisoner, yes. But not a dangerous one. Now walk or I am giving you to one of the guards. And they won't be as nice." He gripped Reila's arm even tighter and she gritted her teeth. It was going to bruise by tomorrow.

They passed enormous hallway before entering another one. Reila had never been in the King's Landing and she was surprised by it. It was like a labyrinth—at least from the distance. And the castle was twice as big as the one in Winterfell. 

They reached the main hall and then the throne room. The guards opened it and Reila's mouth almost fell on the floor. If the hallways were big...This was enormous. 

Aemond's boots echoed through the room as she followed him, like a good dog. Reila's cheeks flushed at the thought and she bowed her head. It made her mad at herself but there was nothing she could do.

"Aemond, dearest. You were fast," said the gentle female voice. Reila's gaze shot upward and it locked with big brown eyes. The Queen walked towards them.

Aemond hugged his mother which couldn't be more strange, considering her situation, but she kept silent. 

"Oh, our guest is here," said Queen Alicent. "You should've let her bathe at least, Aemond. She needs rest." Reila couldn't decide if her tone was passive aggressive but it made her wonder what in the gods' name was she actually doing here.

"With all due respect, can someone explain why am I here? I was taken against my will and now you call me a guest. Do you maybe have chambers prepared too?" The words were flooding out of her, she couldn't stop them. It was the most she said in days and it felt amazing, like taking a breath of fresh air, but as she was finishing the sentence, she began to regret her choice of words and the tone she used.

Queen just looked at her with amusement, but Aemond was quick to snap back, "With all due respect, you are to consider your next words or I'll have your tongue cut out."

"No, you are not. Remember what I told you and don't act foolish," Alicent's tone was sharp, "Now go call the Council."

With that, Aemond gave her a disapproving look and marched out of the throne room.

"Now, sweetling, I am about to answer some of your questions." She took a step closer.

"But not all of them," Reila noticed.

"Of course not all of them. Listen carefully. You are under my protection because I trust you can do a great job and cooperate with me."

"I am not sure I can help you with anything."

Alicent Hightower reached for her shoulder and Reila flinched. She cursed herself for not being stronger. In control. The Queen frowned in confusion.

Then it looked like she realized. "He was violent, wasn't he?" Reila wanted to ask who was she talking about, but Alicent continued, "I told him to bring you here safely—"

"Oh. It wasn't your son, don't worry." She said, looking down.

Queen's eyes flashed at her and what she gave Reila was a look of sympathy, but she said nothing of it. 

"We know you love your father.  We also know he loves you even more. He would do anything for his firstborn child."

It made Reila stare at her in silence and it felt like Alicent was hitting her face the hardest she could.

"And how is this relevant now? What do you need my help with?"

"Into convincing him to betray Rhaenyra, of course."

Reila felt like she would throw up. Any second now. She sacrificed her body and soul so that they could have some chance in this war and Alicent wanted her to throw all of that away.

"We need to make Rhaenyra vulnerable. If she loses The North..." The Green Queen looked lost in the thoughts. "It would be wise if you do as I say." 

"And if I don't?" She scorned herself to stay calm, think rationally. It was all a game. And she was beginning to play now.

"Then you are becoming a real prisoner. We would have to throw you into one of the cells. Make your father come here and surrender himself."

She stood there, frozen, and thought of her options here. If she disobeyed and rebelled against the Queen it would not end well, she was well aware of that. And it would probably get her father killed. Because he would rather tear down the whole city then bend the knee and betray Queen Rhaenyra.

"What do you say, sweetling?"

She died the night she married her husband and  she became an echo of her past self. Reila was not sure she remembers how it was to be a real human being anymore because she gave away everything that made her one.

"Yes, Your Grace."

She felt bitter taste in her mouth after saying the words, but Alicent looked satisfied enough. The Queen dismissed her immediately and Reila ordered herself to walk. The guard took her forearm and pulled Reila towards her future chambers. She payed no attention to the path they were taking. It all looked the same to her. The hallways, the doors, everything was almost identical. Then a face showed from around the corner. The Usurper himself. Reila felt sick. She wanted to run as far away as she could from him.

"Ah, there you are. The Northern meat, freshly delivered." She didn't take his words to heart. Her husband used her as a piece of meat. This bastard was nothing new. With a wave of his ringed hand he dismissed the guard and that is when Reila realized she isn't so brave after all.

He stepped towards her and she knew this dance all too well. The towering, the caging, the fear spreading from her legs to her chest. It was so familiar, but she still wasn't used to it. "I never played with northern cunts. Are they somehow warmer than the ones we have here?" She could only stand still, frozen in terror as his hand started floating near her body. She was powerless. Wherever she went, people used her and it was so tiring, but she couldn't do anything about it.

When his hand started lifting her skirt she knew there is no coming back. Gods...

"Brother, behave yourself, or I'll tell mother."

Aegon turned his head towards the other madman. "I don't give a fuck. It's not like she already doesn't know."

"Oh, not this. I'll tell her...the other thing." He cocked his head, knowing he overpowered his brother. It took a moment for Aegon to remember what that other thing was, and when he did, his eyes went wide and he almost ran away from them.

A beat of silence passed. She didn't want to thank him. She didn't want even to look him in the eyes. Two guards appeared beside her and Reila walked away.

[taleof2cities-itsus]

so I legit forgot how obsessed I am with these lyrics: what’s your favorite??? Lmk 😉

Look Self-awareness, pride's a coat, and yes, I like to wear it Buttoned up, don't like to let no air in With a pair of gloves that I hope doesn't perish I discovered, though, when I get holes in them And I let joy in, I'm in higher spirits My mistakes are like a screamin' parrot Just repeating lyrics, I can barely bear it when I'm lost

Road is narrow, I'm lookin' down it like a gun's barrel Aren't we all searchin' for the serum That could help us breathe and leave our state of peril? All of us have made defensive scarecrows That we scatter 'round our fields and treat like heroes When they scare away the things that we should cherish 'Cause we're too embarrassed to admit the fear is that we're lost

Yeah, but what does it matter? I get so combative Inside of me's a personal canvas, the paint can be splattered Get messy when I start to get rattled The heart of a savage, I'm quiet when I lurk in the shadows But somethin' don't add up, I don't wanna be overdramatic But look at the data, it's obvious that humans are fragile We tend to get mad at the ones that call us out But the fact is we need someone that'll be honest when we fly off the handle

I admit I throw a fit when I begin to unravel Keep my wits, been off the grid but now I'm back in the saddle My intent is not to rent, I like to own what I value I could sit here on the fence or maybe pick up the paddle I like to row against the current, that's the way that I travel Opposite of what the grain does, got the brain of a rebel Take initiative, I'm diligent on every level I never could settle, I like to keep my foot on the pedal, yeah

I'd love to pack arenas and all But what I really wanna do is learn to handle my thoughts And put the reins on 'em, show 'em I'm the one that's the boss And pull 'em back when they get out of hand, I'm breakin' they jaws I'm takin' the flaws that told me I could never evolve Then pull a Bane on 'em, ask 'em, "Oh, you think you're in charge?" You oughta know better, ain't no way around it, I'm flawed The traits that I want, they say I can't afford what it cost

But I (I), manifested this Failing's how you grow and learn your lessons, kids Take the worst and try to make the best of it 'Cause when you fail, just know that it's a test and if You can learn to pick yourself back up again And train your brain to not be such a pessimist It's okay to make mistakes, just don't forget that There's a high road but I skip the exit when I'm lost

Yeah When I'm lost When I'm lost (lost) When I'm lost When I'm lost (lost), lost

Wow, these burdens are heavy And I'm hopin' it don't bury me I used to be joyful and skip so merrily But now I'm too cautious and tip toe carefully My mind left and it's nowhere to be found Am I a big old parody? 'Cause it's no fair to me And now I'm at the point where I'm spending a grand a week on hypnotherapy

Look, I'm tryna wash away my sins I got a group of loved ones that ain't my friends And if I ever take an L, then they might grin And they all wanna see me stay in the cage I'm in So when it comes to anybody, there's no trust for no one Man, so what? My whole plan's to go nuts My shoulders ready for more shrugs, I'm gon' judge Anybody tryna enter my circle with no love (hold up)

My sanity's gone, I'd rather be torn from this planet they planted me on Yes, that's a reward, I'm actually bored with having a sore heart It's torn apart from a family that I don't have anymore (now hol' up) I was livin' so oblivious with millions, it really was a pity, huh? (A pity, huh?) It's kinda funny what a penny does, mixed in with a mini buzz (I feel stuck)

Life's got me by the neck, with a blade against it (what?) 'Cause I was runnin' late for the train and missed it (what?) The only thing I feel is pain and vengeance (what?) So I'ma act out like a raging misfit (what?) And every verse I lay gon' stay sadistic (yeah) You wanna hate me? Good, great, terrific (good) You'll never see the day where my anger's dismissed You better go and change your wishlist 'cause I

Yeah, manifested this Do not treat me like some adolescent kid I am praying to the Lord with the book of James Hopin' he gon' add my testament This dark cloud, that's my residence Demons knockin', I don't have to let 'em in I done made mistakes, day to day, you probably can't relate I just ain't the same when I'm lost

Yeah When I'm lost (when I'm, yeah) When I'm lost (lost) When I'm lost When I'm lost (lost), lost

[groundcontrol21]

Hello! If you haven't yet gotten five requests, may I please request December 18th with maybe... d'Art? Ara/mis as backup char, of course. =) Thank you in advance!

Happy December 18th! Of course I had to incorporate them both in there, bc I can't leave my favorite marksman alone, now can I? Hope you enjoy! This skews a bit book-verse-y in terms of speech and whatnot. CW: contagion (not intentional)

“Heh’TSCHOOO!” 

With a series of grumbles and groans, D’Artagnan rubbed at his dripping nose with his handkerchief. He had long since stopped bothering to tuck it back in his doublet, preferring instead to keep the cloth balled up in his fist for ease of access. And such ease was certainly needed, he noted with a bitter cough, for it seemed his horse could scarcely take two steps forward without some symptom of this wretched ailment making itself known. He shivered, bundling as deeply as he could into the fur tucked around his shoulders.

Ahead of him, Athos slowed his mount and gazed back. “Is Aramis’s cloak not helping?”

The fur grazed his cheek and his sensitive nose as D’Artagnan ducked deeper into the cloak in an attempt to keep himself warm. “It is–heh’KSHOOO!-- helping as much as anything can help a man with a headcold so bad. Ihh’KSHHH!” He sniffled lamentably. The fur-lined cloak chased away the worst of his shivers, but that was a pitiable solace to D’Artagnan whose very face felt stuffed full of mud. “I’m beginning to think I’ll never be well again.”

“Peace, D’Artagnan, you have been ill for two days,” Athos said. Even so, his brow still furrowed when D’Artagnan descended into a raspy fit of coughs (the Gascon had intended for those coughs to be a rebuke of Athos’s wanton disregard for his ill state, but his sore throat took precedence). “Still, we will stop at the next village we come upon for rest and shelter.”

They rode in silence for a while save for D’Artagnan, who held fast to Aramis’s cloak with each sneeze lest it come undone. In time, Porthos rode up alongside him and leaned close, his tone conspiratorial. “You’re a lucky lad, you know. It’s not just anyone whom Aramis will lend a present from an admirer.”

In spite of himself and his misery, D’Artagnan could not help but raise an eyebrow. “An admirer?”

“Of the feminine sort,” Porthos said with a knowing grin before his countenance soured. “He wouldn’t even lend the cloak to me when I was drenched in a downpour! Said I’d ruin it.”

“I’m not deaf, mon ami,” Aramis called. The man was shivering desperately in his saddle; giving D’Artagnan the cloak had left him with naught more than his thin blue cape as defense against the misty wind. “I didn’t lend you my cloak because you had just come inside to sit in front of the fire to dry yourself. Don’t be dramatic.”

“Psh! Details!” Porthos scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. “Maybe I should get sick just for a chance to wear it. It does look so comfortable and warm.”

“Hhh’RSHHH!” D’Artagnan mopped at his nose with his handkerchief sullenly. “Come any closer and you just might.”

******

They reached a town with an inn, which gratefully had a room with a hearth that was big enough for the four of them to share. Wasting no time, the three friends tucked D’Artagnan into bed, spreading Aramis’s cloak atop the blankets for a final layer of warmth. The comfort of lying down was so blissful after a miserable day of riding that D’Artagnan fell asleep immediately. Athos and Porthos departed in search of an apothecary where they might buy some more herbs to soothe the young man’s symptoms, leaving behind Aramis not only to keep watch and stoke the fire, but also to warm up himself, for he was shivering almost as badly as the ill Gascon. 

Some time later, D’Artagnan awoke to see his friend alone, hunched upon himself as he sat in front of the hearth and prodded at the flames with a poker. D’Artagnan blinked heavily, clearing his occluded throat, and called out to him, “Aramis?”

But though Aramis turned his face to him, it was plainly clear to D’Artagnan that the man could not truly focus on him, nor could he answer, because in that moment his features were overcome with the misty reverie of an oncoming sneeze. He dropped the poker hastily back into its holder, his hands scrambling to his face. “Hhh’KSHHH’uhh! Heh’ISHHH’uhh! Hehhhh’ISHHH!”

“Pardieu, are you alright?” D’Artagnan asked, though the sheer volume and ferocity of his friend’s sneezes brooked only one answer to the question–at least, only one answer which was honest.

A blush rose, creeping up from out beneath Aramis’s collar and into his cheeks. “I think I might–heh…Ehhh’KSHHH!--be coming down with what you have.”

D’Artagnan frowned.

“Fret not,” Aramis said. “It’s to be expected. We have been spending every moment in each other’s presence these past days, riding, eating, sleeping.”

D’Artagnan was sure riding in the cold and damp without a cloak surely did not help matters either. A spark of guilt fluttered in D’Artagnan’s chest as he considered himself, tucked up cosily in bed with the cloak still draped over him. Not so much guilt he would consider parting with the fur-lined warmth, but… An idea came to D’Artagnan’s foggy mind and he sat up, bundling the cloak in his arms and shuffling over to take a seat on the floor beside Aramis. 

“D’Artagnan?” Aramis asked blearily as D’Artagnan set to draping the cloak across both their shoulders. Aramis gave a full-body shiver at the sudden influx of warmth and, seemingly unconsciously, tucked himself closer to D’Artagnan. He sighed gratefully, and D’Artagnan couldn’t help a small smile. 

“It’s your cloak after all.”

“You should…Eh’KESHHH’uhh!” Aramis produced a handkerchief from his doublet and snuffled into it. His nose was already pink, and D’Artagnan wondered just how often he’d blown it while D’Artagnan had been dozing. “You should be in bed.”

D’Artagnan rolled his eyes at the hoarse-voiced attempt at mother henning. “By that logic, then, so should you.”

“Ahh,” Aramis sighed, a touch pleading, “but it is so much warmer close to the fire.”

D’Artagnan laughed. “My thoughts exactly.”

And so they arranged themselves so that each was as comfortable and as warm as possible, ending with Aramis slumped against D’Artagnan, head pillowed against his shoulder, and D’Artagnan leaning his own forehead against Aramis’s. And such was how Porthos and Athos found the two men upon their return, huddled into their fur-cocoon, their congested snores a soft harmony against the crackling of the fire in the hearth.

[sheinthatfandom]

Prompt: A reluctant trip to the zoo to make their partner happy

Rating: teen

Word count: 4226

Pairing: Dante Martin/Nick Jackson, Eddie Kingston/Nick Jackson

AN: thank you to @sarahcakes613 for letting me play in your Eddie’s brats au

@wrestleprompts

He really needed to get better at telling his brats no. Or at least coming up with a plausible reason to get out of things.

“Oh wow look at the baby giraffe running”

Nicks voice was so soft and awestruck that it brought a reluctant smile to Eddie’s face. His green eyes catching the way Dante and Nick held their pinkies together down underneath the fence to the enclosure.

Okay, maybe the trip to the Zoo wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Nick had been good lately, and the relationship with Dante seemed to really help give the younger Buck the confidence to step out of his more boisterous brother's shadow. It’s positive reinforcement, it’s science. You reward the behavior you want to continue.

“The map says there’s a food court over this way.” Dante pointed them towards the cement path leading away from the giraffes.

Nick saddled up to Eddie who wrapped him in a one armed hug. “Thanks for coming Eddie, I know this probably isn’t your thing?”

“What you kidding me? What Bronx kid hasn’t been to the Bronx Zoo? No way could I let you two come here without me. Take a wrong turn and end up in the botanical garden. You know how fucking boring that place is? Only fun there is at Christmas time when all the schools in the borough send their kids there to decorate a tree with pinecones they painted.” He pressed a quick kiss to Nicks blonde hair. “I’m having a great time.”

He’s not whipped, shut up. And even if he was those bucks and their big ol’ boo boo eyes are just all around unfair. What man can deny them? No one that’s who!

“Oh man, you guys are gonna love this.” Dante ran over in an excited bounce before gripping both their hands and pulling them forward.

He should find out what kinda workout top flight had been doing with Fox cause wow, Eddie had timbs on and Dante was still pulling him with no effort. The smell was his first warning that things were about to not go his way.

“What the fuck?”

“Oh wow that’s so effing cool, can we actually ride them?” Nick was already taking off running before he actually finished speaking.

In the middle of the area was a large flight of stairs and platform with camels walking around a ring. Dante and Nick were already on the platform waving him over.

“Fuck.”

He reached the top just as a handler got to them with a camel and the ticket taker was explaining the rules to the younger men.

“Uh, you guys have fun. I’ll go and wait behind the fence, maybe snap some pics for you.” Eddie offered, with a far too even tone.

“Not necessary sir, the ride comes with free photos. Please step right up.”

Did the camel just glare at him? Can camels glare? Shit, do they bite?

“Nah, my man I’m good.”

“Come on Eddie, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Please Eddie.” And there went the big buck booboo eyes, damn.

The man helped Dante and Nick onto their camels as another trainer came over with a third camel for Eddie. This one wasn’t looking at him angrily, just kinda eyed him then looked away.

“I don’t think so, pretty sure there’s a weight limit or something.”

“There’s no weight limit sir, you’re fine. Step up please.”

Well now what was he gonna do? The owner ain’t worried, the workers ain’t worried, the camel looking at him like he ain’t worried so now it’s just Eddie being a little bitch and ain’t that bout a muthafucka.

With a tired sigh he walked up to the platform and allowed the workers to help him onto the seat. His legs stretched far too wide to be comfortable and damn he had apologizes to make to some of his brats cause his balls and dick were gonna be sore. The camel's knobby knees knocked while they walked around the ring. Eddie’s body flopped around as he tried to not look as ridiculous as he felt.

“Yay Eddie!” Nick and Dante cheered for him on top of the platform as he, the camel and trainer made their way over.

The group hug both men gave him pretty much made up for any annoyance or embarrassment he had.

“Here’s your photos.” A staff member passed over print outs of each one as they rode the large beasts. He didn’t get to see Dante and Nicks because he was on the top and Nick was already pulling out his phone.

“Oh my effing God I gotta send this to the group chat. They’ll never believe this.”

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, the things he lets himself get talked into.

[slumberingcorpse]

The Wolf and The Fox

Part 3 “Hope”

Summary: Worried about Lambert’s chances of surviving the trail of grasses, Geralt and Eskel decide to drown away their anxiety the same way they’ve seen Vesemir do many times before...

The way back to Kear Morhen was a silent one. Geralt couldn't stand to even look at Lambert while Eskel couldn’t help but stare at him.

It wasn’t the first time Vesemir had brought another boy to the keep with the hopes of creating a new witcher. However, every single one of them slowly and painfully died. All the two boys can remember of those boys are their horrid screams as they choked on their blood.

The thought of a new brother used to bring the two pups such joy and excitement but now it filled them with pure dread.

Lambert is a lot smaller and younger than the others before him. If Geralt remembered correctly, the only boy that almost made it was twice Lambert’s size and was ten. Lambert couldn’t be no older than seven.

Of course, there is a chance for his survival, after all, Geralt and Eskel were five when they went through the trials. Even then, Vesemir was shocked, to say the least.

Not a moment too soon, the keep’s gate can be seen and a horrified gasp can be heard from Vesemir’s horse.

“Easy, it’s alright.” Vesemir soothes holding Lambert closer to his chest.

“Alright!? There are bodies in the water! Am I going to end up in there!? Am I going to die!?” the young boy panics. His wide green eyes suddenly turning to Eskel for an answer.

Eskel tenses and quickly turns away while biting the inside of his cheek trying his best to hide his fear but his bottom lip trembles and his eyes quickly fill with tears.

Geralt can hear Lambert’s heartbeat sore as he tries to escape Vesemir’s grasp and yet the master witcher was as calm as ever, “It’s alright. Everything will be alright. You aren’t going to die.” he says.

Geralt’s fist turns white by how tightly he was gripping his reins. How could Vesemir be so confident? After all the bodies had had to bury?

Lambert turns his emerald gaze to the elder witcher, “How do I know you aren’t lying?”

Vesemir leans back on his saddle with surprise while teen pups turn to him in suspense.

For a long moment, he stayed silent. Remembering his elders simply using axii on panicked boys. How they used axii on him before strapping him to the chair. He remembered being terrified and not understanding what was being done to him. Closing his eyes, he shakes his head, “You don’t.”

“Y-you lied to me...” Lambert mutters before repeatedly punching him in the chest, “YOU LIED TO ME! You said you were going to protect me but you just want to kill me! Let me go! I want to go!” he screams.

Vesemir gently shakes his head and catches Lambert’s tiny hands, “No, I didn’t. I fully intend to protect you. To teach you how to protect yourself and others but there are some things I can’t protect you from.”

“W-what are you going to do to me?” Lambert sniffles trying to stop himself from crying. He was scared, Vesemir couldn’t blame him.

“You have to go through the trial of grasses. You’ll have to ingest a series of dangerous potions and elixirs that will break down your body from the inside out. It’ll be the worst pain in your life.” he explains calmly.

Lambert hesitates but asks, “W-will I survive?”

Vesemir reaches up and gently wipes away the young boy’s tears, “I’ll likely have to bury you with the many other boys that have come before you, but I have hope. Sometimes that’s all you can do.”

Lambert turns again toward the rotting corpses buried beneath the water before silently nodding. Both Eskel and Geralt sadly gaze at each other before following Vesemir’s horse inside Kear Morhen’s walls.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Moon rose and the screams began. Even from their rooms, Lambert’s cries echoed loudly through the halls.

Geralt and Eskel huddled together in a corner covering their ears the best they could but with their mutations, the screams were still loud and clear.

“I can’t listen to this anymore!” Geralt growls quickly putting on his snow boots and getting up.

Eskel quickly grabs his arm but Geralt shoves him away, “W-where are you going?”

“I’m going to take Roach for a ride, far away from here,” Geralt says quickly heading towards the door but again, Eskel grabs his arm.

“You can’t, Vesemir told us to stay put.”

“I don’t care what he said! I won’t just sit here and listen to another boy die!” Geralt snaps yanking his arm away.

“Come Geralt, don’t be that way. Maybe he’ll make it...we just have to have a bit of hope.” Eskel mutters, mostly trying to make himself believe it.

The other wolf pup scoffs, “Hope? What hope? Let’s say he does survive this one. What about training? You almost died while trying to learn aard! After training, we’ll be sent on the path to be killed by monsters! Of course, then there are the people! The same people who created us are the same who butchered our brothers! The same brothers we pass by every time we enter this keep! There is no hope, Eskel! Only death! A slow painful death!”

Eskel looks down at the ground. Only Lambert’s screams filled the room for a painful amount of time before he spoke again, “I won’t let you leave the keep...but I know what can help...” he says walking past Geralt and out of the room.

Quickly, both boys make their way downstairs, through the dining hall, and into the kitchen until standing in front of a locked wooden door.

“The wine cellar? Are you nuts? Vesemir will kill us,” Geralt says shocked.

Eskel shrugs, “As you said, we’re going to die anyway so why does it matter?” he grumbles before making the aard sign blasting the door open.

Geralt frowns upon hearing his brother’s words but doesn’t say anything, instead covers his eyes with his arm from the wood splinters.

“Vesemir will probably be down with the kid all night so let's drink up,” Eskel says walking into the cellar and picking up the first bottle he sees.

“Are you sure we-”

“What? Having second thoughts? Want to spend all night hearing those screams? At least with this maybe we can sleep through it.” he says tossing the shorter witcher a bottle of wine.

Another horrible scream rings out in the keep as Geralt catches the bottle, like that, all of his doubt disappears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bottle after bottle, the two boys chugged without a second thought. Only stopping to comment on how disgusting some of the alcohol tasted. Even so, the wanted effects were there. The last thing on their minds was the dying child screaming in their basement.

“I wanna pet a kitty...” Eskel pouts leaning against Geralt’s shoulder.

“Why? Cats are scary! They scratch and bite! Not like horses! They’re the best!” the other slurs leaning back against his brother before taking another swing of his sixth or seventh bottle.

Eskel shakes his head and downs another bottle before speaking, “No~ kitties are better, they’re really soft and fluffy. Horses aren’t soft and fluffy.”

“Yeah well, you can’t ride a cat! You can ride horses!” Geralt refutes.

“What about big cats? I heard there were some in...umm...I forgot...it was somewhere far away...but they are huge! They must be extra fluffy...”

“Alright then... let's run away and ride one,” Geralt suggests trying and failing to stand up.

“What? No, you’re drunk!” Eskel giggles.

Geralt pouts, “I’m not that drunk! A lot less drunk than you anyway.”

“Liar,” Eskel says sticking his tongue out only for his brother to do the same.

A particularly painful scream echoes through the room quickly reminding the boys of the reason they were there. Without a word exchanged, the two grabbed another bottle and chug it.

“Let's run away to Toussaint,” Geralt suggests twirling a wine bottle in his hand.

“Why there?”

“I heard it’s pretty and they say the wine taste as sweet as honey unlike the stuff here. We can go there and...and become knights! That way we can do what we want and we won’t have to worry about...about...” Geralt whimpers before suddenly bursting into tears, “I don’t wanna die!”

Eskel quickly does too though he tried not to, “S-stop it! Stop crying! Witchers aren’t supposed to cry!” he sobs.

“But I’m scared! What if I’m not good enough!? I don’t want Vesemir to abandon me too!” Geralt wails.

“I’m scared too! I keep t-trying to be g-good but all I keep thinking about is losing you and Vesemir. I d-don’t wanna be alone!” Eskel confesses between choked sobs.

“What the fuck!?” Vesemir shouts in both shock and confusion causing both boys to quickly turn to him. For a second there was silence before both boys let out a new set of tears as they run into his arms.

Both pups tried their best to talk but between the sobs and their faces being buried into his chest, Vesemir couldn’t understand a thing. What he did know is that he should be angry. He should shout at them, belt them until they can’t walk, and punish them harshly for what they did, but how can he shout at them when his boys are so panicked? How could he punish them when they are squeezing him so tightly?

Gently, he pets both boy’s heads, “It’s alright, everything is going to be okay.”

“We don’t wanna die! We don’t want to end up like Lambert! Can’t we just stay up here with you forever and ever?” Geralt whimpers looking up at him. Vesemir couldn’t help but smile as he leans down and kisses his forehead, “No one’s dying. Lambert made it and I know that both of you will be fine. Here and on the path.”

“R-really?” Eskel sniffles still having tears and snot covering his face.

“Yes, now come on, off to bed. Lambert’s resting and the two of you should sleep.” Vesemir says trying to find a way out of his pup's arms but their grip only became tighter.

“Please don’t leave us, Papa...” Geralt begs, nuzzling his shirt.

“Relax pup, I’m not going anywhere,” Vesmir smiles kissing the top of his head.

<- Previous Part Next Part ->

Tags: @wrongdodo

[izzysarchivedblogs]

@thefleetsfinest -> i am gonna get so normal about doctors mel -> [ continued ]

An eyebrow quirks up when he brings up his argument, and this really was not an argument. It may be mild teasing on the subject matter upon discussion. Sedatives, profession, oath and she smiles a little as Leonard's a tone a touch teasing. YOUR DEFINITION ⸻ ❝ You know they make dictionaries, let's see. . . . ❞ Now Linda's being purposeful in pulling up a MEDICLAL dictionary, clear and on display for the CMO to see that.

❝ U. . . U. . . U ⸺ Ulcerative colitis, underactive thyroid, urinary incontinence. . . Mhh, yes, yes I see. ❞ She feigns as though she is deep thought reaching over various terms in the index than glossary. ❝ Nothing on defining unwarranted. . . . ❞ Of course, there wouldn't be but that wasn't the point anyways. Leonard's been in here before and after she's gotten sleep, six hours at the most within recent day of a small influx. Linda had sat down at a work bench, and informed the other there were definitely paperwork that did not explicitly require his overview. ❝ So, than, I suppose you would be the CHIEF on defining unwarranted here. ❞ Letting Leonard win this time. . . . this time.

A hum is made as he starts to complain AGAIN about two of the most notable patients to visit more often that others. ❝ Well, when you put it like that, than carrying sedative sounds more like necessity ⸻ Might as well stock up your pockets, if you aren't doing that already. ❞ That is fully said in a teasing tone, and Linda could se where the urge would come. In honesty, she would do the same when it came to Captain and the pilot in question. Actually, ranks be damned when came to providing medical assistance.

❝ The wound had barely finished clotting, and next thing I know you're getting your exercise routine in. ❞ AKA RUNNING AFTER JIM OR CLINT.

⸻ BUR IN HIS SADDLE. . . . A soft laugh as it sounds silly and halts her typing, and Linda almost wants to call him on the phrase coming out wrong but she wouldn't have any point of reference for that; she wasn't an Earth born girl at all.

SOME GUEST ⸻ ❝ I heard about that, he clocked Lieutenant Walker without much of a warning in front of the bridge crew. ⸺ He had been brought here. At the worst, he's got a sore jaw. ❞ To which she does not sound all that concerned with. Yet she contributes to the conversation, to which she would let out a large sigh. ❝ NOPE, and here we were complaining about slow days not less than two weeks ago ⸻ Brace for seeing a lot of Barton this week? ❞

[amiah-fanfic]

Works and Updates

Hello, I'm amiah at ao3. I'm working on Fire Emblem: Three Houses fanfiction. This is my list of current works. Please check here for updates if you like my writing!

FE3H: The Wrong Way to Be a Rival

FE3H: The Three Courts (soon)

See further details about my projects below the break.

12.13.22

To be published soon-ish:

The Three Courts is a dark, modern, urban fantasy au where the Agarthans won the battle for supremacy in the middle ages. The current era, nearly 800 years later, is a cold technocratic government that cares more for its bottom line than the needs of the people.

The Courts of the Moon, Wind, and Flower are what remain of the Goddess' children, their gifts waning much like their relevance. Old money has kept the Crested safe in modern society. This matters little when a simple house call turns into something far darker.

There are few who know the truth, and everyone holds their own piece of the puzzle. For the first time in centuries, the Courts must come together to protect their legacy. Or choose a new path entirely.

The kids are mostly here in an ensemble cast that I'll need a graph to keep track of. Those that haven't... ya know... 🗡 ahem.

BUT! Big feels! Gruesome battles! Sexy times! Rampant murder! A few fluffy flashbacks. And secrets of course.

I needed a reason for Claude to be there. :)

I have a great beta now, but the more the merrier. If you're interested I'm willing to do the same for you!

12.06.22

Chapter 4 of Rivals is up! Yay!

"Chapter 4: Commander of the Resistance

I returned to Garreg Mach after five years, dusty and saddle-sore and met immediately by Byleth. Everyone around him had changed, grown, wore shadows under their eyes. Myself included. He was the same, a demon with a sword and a man of few words.

Yet now, countless others listened for those words. At long tables, in lecture halls, and on the battlefield.

He was no longer responsible for only himself, or a small classroom. The Resistance Forces followed behind the Crest of Flames.

He was finally here, in my sights, yet further away than ever.

Not that I'll ever stop running to meet him."

11.19.22

I am actively working on chapters 4 and 5 of Rivals! I know it hasn't been updated in awhile but I plan to update with Chapter 4 in early December. My readers sweet comments are fuel to me, so thank you!

ALSO: Looking to obtain some PAID fanart of my story. Would love to talk to a reader of my fic or FE3H in general that also does commission work. I have ideas but open to suggestions! Creative direction is totally up to you and I'm excited to see what you'll create. Send me a message if interested.

....

The Wrong Way to be a Rival

Language: English; Words: 17,807; Chapters: 4/6

Last updated: 12.06.22

Rated: T

My Unit | Byleth & Leonie Pinelli, Leonie Pinelli & Claude von Riegan, Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Leonie Pinelli, Jeralt Reus Eisner & Leonie Pinelli. My Unit | Byleth/Leonie Pinelli, Leonie Pinelli, My Unit | Byleth, Felix Hugo Fraldarius. Jeralt Reus Eisner, Claude von Riegan. Golden Deer Students (Fire Emblem)

"Did you ever notice him like, picking legs off of bugs or anything like that when he was a kid?"

"Goddess, Hilda, NO! He's weird but not in that way."

"So. You have met him before!"

"Yeah. He's Captain Jeralt's son. Of course I have."

"Why don't you ever talk about him then?"

"Well. There's nothing to talk about."

Okay, that was a small lie. There are certainly things to say about Byleth Eisner.

Captain Jeralt is his father, so greatness should run in his son's blood. But the guy barely speaks. He has the presence of a log. And he calls his own dad by his first name! How damn rude can you be? He has a lot of nerve for someone who ran around with a lopsided bowl-cut as a kid.

I just hope we don't bump into each other much over the next year. Thank the Goddess he chose Black Eagles…

A light-hearted FE:3H AU where Leonie did, in fact, know Byleth from childhood and thinks he's the worst. Until she doesn't, of course.

....

The Three Courts

Language: English; Words: 4289; Chapters: 1/?

Last updated: 12.13.22

Rated: M

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Blue Lions Students (Fire Emblem), Golden Deer Students (Fire Emblem), Black Eagles Students (Fire Emblem), Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Rhea (Fire Emblem), Claude von Riegan, Hilda Valentine Goneril, My Unit | Byleth, Hubert von Vestra, Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Sylvain Jose Gautier, Mentioned Blue Lions Students (Fire Emblem), Mentioned Golden Deer Students (Fire Emblem), Mentioned Black Eagles Students (Fire Emblem), Drama, Romance, Horror, Action/Adventure

The Goddess is dead.

The church is a mockery of Her former glory.

And the ones who once Slithered now perch in high places.

Tales of battle mages and Sacred Beasts lie in dusty books, ancient history to the greater populace. But relics of those times still exist within the dwindling societies of The Three Courts. Some within the Courts still carry the torch of tradition, while others work to see its flame gutter out. And those who merely watch events unfold will soon be forced to take a side. Or create something else entirely.

It is Agarthan Year 788 and war returns to Fódlan once again.

An original modern AU/urban fantasy using the Fire Emblem: Three Houses world and characters. Ensemble cast, multiple POV throughout.

[nameofallteams]

188 Terrific Running Team Names For Your Event

When it comes to running, whether it's for a marathon, a charity race, or a casual group run, having a terrific team name can elevate the overall experience. A creative and powerful team name not only boosts morale but also establishes a sense of identity, making your team stand out on race day. This article presents 188 terrific running team names that can energize your group, inspire friendly competition, and reflect the fun and intensity of running. Let’s explore the perfect name for your running squad!

Funny and Playful Running Team Names

For runners who love to have a good laugh while they run, choosing a funny running team name adds a layer of amusement to the race. These names are clever, light-hearted, and sure to bring a smile to both teammates and spectators. - Sole Mates - Chafed To Be Here - Worst Pace Scenario - Run Like the Winded - Are We There Yet? - Blister Sisters - Cirque du Sore Legs - Not Fast, Just Furious - Between a Walk and a Hard Pace - The Tater Trots

Motivational Running Team Names

If you're looking to inspire your teammates and push through the toughest parts of the race, a motivational team name can give you the boost you need. These names are empowering and designed to help runners stay focused and determined. - Run for Glory - The Finish Line Warriors - Pace Makers - No Pain, No Gain - Born to Run - The Marathon Machines - Strive for Five - Endurance Elites - The Hustle Crew - Victory Lap Legends

Punny Running Team Names

Who doesn't love a good pun? Punny team names are a popular choice because they combine humor with wordplay related to running, creating a memorable and witty team name. - Runners High - In It for the Long Run - Sole Survivors - The Fast and the Curious - Running on Empty - Toe Tally Awesome - Scrambled Legs - Will Run for Beer - Sole Purpose - Chafing the Dream

Cool and Edgy Running Team Names

For those who want their team name to convey a sense of coolness and edge, these names bring an attitude of toughness and determination. Cool running team names stand out and reflect confidence. - Speed Demons - Swift Striders - Rapid Pacers - The Runaways - The Thunder Bolts - Blaze Runners - Mile Crushers - Velocity Vixens - Turbo Trotters - Trail Blazers

Creative Running Team Names

These names combine creativity with uniqueness, offering something original that reflects the dynamic nature of your running team. Creative team names are memorable and often stand out in a crowded field. - Miles Ahead - Chasing Pavement - Stride Right - The Road Warriors - Outrun the Sun - Over the Hill Gang - Legends of the Treadmill - Rogue Runners - Footloose Flyers - Pavement Pounders

Inspirational Running Team Names

Teams that want to inspire others while keeping themselves motivated can benefit from inspirational names that convey perseverance, strength, and the determination to keep going no matter what. - Fueled by Determination - Stride for Success - Breaking Barriers - Miles of Motivation - Unstoppable Force - Race with Heart - Driven by Purpose - Limitless Striders - Pushing the Boundaries - Conquer the Course

Fast and Furious Running Team Names

Speed is a key component of running, and fast team names reflect this quality. These names are bold and emphasize the swiftness and agility of your group. - Lightning Legs - Speed Surge - Dash Dynamos - The Turbochargers - Fleet Feet Flyers - Quick Striders - Rapid Fire Runners - Fast Feet Force - Swift Souls - Blazing Saddles

Marathon-Inspired Running Team Names

Running a marathon is no easy feat, and choosing a marathon-specific team name highlights the incredible endurance and determination required to complete such a race. - Marathon Maniacs - 26.2 Milers - Endurance Legends - The Long Haul Heroes - Mile Markers - The Marathon Marchers - Endless Striders - The Distance Dominators - 26 Point Freaking 2 - Running on Empty

Team Names for Charity Races

Many running teams participate in charity races, raising awareness and funds for important causes. Charity-based team names often reflect the mission of the race and the commitment of the team. - Run for a Cause - Miles for Smiles - Charity Chasers - Hope Hustlers - Pace for Peace - Strides for Change - Feet for Food - Run for Recovery - Heart & Sole - Steps for a Better World

Running Team Names Based on Pop Culture

Pop culture references add a layer of fun and relatability to team names. Pop culture-based running team names can resonate with team members and fans alike, offering something recognizable and clever. - The Flash Mob - The Fast and the Furious - Run DMC - The Running Dead - Catch Me If You Can - Born to Run (Springsteen Reference) - Run Like Hell (Pink Floyd Reference) - The Speedsters - Back to the Fasture - The Fleet Foxes

Female-Focused Running Team Names

For all-women teams or teams led by strong female runners, female-focused team names empower and celebrate the strength of women in the running world. - Wonder Women - Run Like a Girl - The Sole Sisters - Pace Princesses - The Running Divas - She Runs This - Girls on the Run - The Trailblazers - Femme Fatale Flyers - Sole Survivors

Mixed-Gender Running Team Names

Mixed-gender teams need names that reflect the diversity and balance of their group. These co-ed running team names strike the right chord by combining strength, humor, and unity. - Dynamic Striders - United by Pace - Run Squad - Team Stride - The Speedy Syndicate - On the Run - Fast Feet Fusion - The Running Crew - Run All Day - Team Thunder

Running Team Names for Beginners

Every runner starts somewhere, and for beginner teams, a name that embraces the learning curve and joy of progress can be both motivating and fun. - Couch to 5K - Running for Fun - The New Striders - Step by Step - Finding Our Stride - First-Timers - Running to Win - Legs for Days - Walk, Run, Repeat - The Pacing Newbies

Trail Running Team Names

For teams who love to hit the trails, these trail running names reflect the adventurous spirit of off-road running. - Trailblazers - Mountain Movers - The Trail Trotters - Forest Flyers - The Dirt Dashers - Wild Runners - Off-Road Renegades - The Terrain Treaders - Peak Performers - The Hill Climbers

High-Energy Running Team Names

For teams with boundless energy, high-energy names reflect the enthusiasm, passion, and unstoppable drive of the runners. These names are perfect for teams that are always ready to give their all, from start to finish. - Adrenaline Rush - Energy Express - Full Speed Ahead - Powered Up Pacers - The Energizers - Pumped Up Pacers - Running High - Pure Energy - The Running Voltage - Endorphin Junkies

Tough and Gritty Running Team Names

Tough names are for teams that take on the most challenging races with grit and determination. These names embody strength and resilience, perfect for groups that aren't afraid to push their limits. - The Iron Runners - Grit and Grind - Hardcore Pacers - Tough as Nails - The Gritty Crew - Steel Toes and Running Shoes - Run to Defy - The Indestructibles - Mile-Eating Monsters - Rugged Runners

Seasoned Veterans Running Team Names

For runners who have been racing for years and bring experience and wisdom to the track, seasoned veteran team names highlight their longevity, consistency, and unbreakable spirit. - Old School Striders - The Experience Crew - The Silver Streaks - Long Run Legends - Seasoned Sprinters - Tried and True Runners - Veteran Pacers - Endurance Elders - Golden Gait Runners - Masters of Miles

Team Names for Relay Races

Relay races require teamwork, precision, and camaraderie. These relay race names capture the essence of a shared goal, where every runner plays a crucial part in the team's success. - Passing the Baton - The Relay Racers - One for All, All for One - Hand Off Heroes - Pace Setters United - The Baton Crew - Relay the Way - The Speedy Switchers - Race in Sync - Leg by Leg Legends

Eco-Friendly and Nature-Inspired Running Team Names

For teams that care about the environment and enjoy running in nature, these eco-friendly and nature-inspired names reflect a love for the great outdoors and sustainability. - Green Mile Runners - Eco Warriors - Nature Striders - The Green Pacers - Earth Runners - Forest Flyers - Carbon Footprint Fighters - Sustainable Striders

Conclusion: Pick a Team Name that Reflects Your Spirit

Choosing the right running team name is about capturing the essence of your group—whether it's about fun, motivation, toughness, or camaraderie. The right name can inspire you to push harder, bring your team together, and make the race day experience even more memorable. Whether you're aiming to be funny, edgy, or powerful, these 188 terrific running team names will help you find the perfect one for your group. So lace up your shoes, pick a name that resonates with your team's spirit, and get ready to run like never before! Read the full article

[halfwayanywhere]

Tour Divide Day 11: I only sleep a couple hours before waking up to finish the Basin; I should have kept going last night. The morning brings the headwinds I feared in the Basin. They aren’t horrible, but they’re stronger than last night’s, and I struggle to make it to the next stop, Warmsutter - little more than a gas station-Subway combo. After eating alongside @slingfin Tim and @acarlsonnz, I continue into the wind. I’m not having a great time. Maybe the lack of sleep and unceasing cycling is catching up to me - and my saddle sores are angry. @acarlsonnz catches up and saves me from myself with some friendly conversation and shares a new mantra for me, “It never always gets worse.” I like it. Speaking of, we’re then struck by my first thunderstorm of the ride. There was rain and snow at the start, and I saw a storm in the distance a couple days ago, but this is the first that hits its mark. It pours rain, and I see lightning striking in the distance, but the storm is gone as quickly as it appeared. We catch @slingfin Tim just in time for the other thing I’ve been afraid of encountering besides lightning - mud. Despite the rain’s brevity, it is enough to turn the dirt into peanut butter mud. What’s peanut butter mud? It’s thick, sticky mud that clumps up and sticks to everything - your bike, your shoes, your soul. It makes riding, pushing - even carrying - your bike a near-impossible task. Straining our way to an electrical box, we climb on top and wait for the sun. There’s nothing we can do other than hope the road dries enough to make biking possible again. We eat our second Subway sandwiches. Before long, the road dries and we make it across the Colorado border and up to Brush Mountain Lodge - the grandest Tour Divide oasis imaginable. Cheers greet us from the deck, and we’re then offered seats, pizzas, beverages, conversation, showers, laundry, and beds. It’s magnificent and is everything I needed after what might have been my worst day thus far. I go to bed clean, fed, in loaner clothes, and indoors. Life is good. Divide Basin to Brush Mountain Lodge Distance: 121.03 mi / 194.78 km Elevation gain: 5,774 ft / 1,760 m #tourdivide2024 #tourdivide