#the chaos duck has spoken

[godfrey-the-chaos-duck]

@thehillywoodshow THANK YOU FOR THIS AWESOME T SHIRT OH MY GOD!!!!!

It arrived shortly after my birthday so I got it for Christmas instead and I LOVE IT

[a-case-of-attachment]

Okay, writing prompt if you're interested. LuciferXreader, making out in a pile of rubber ducks. It may be weird as hell, but also really cute and funny. AND!! Laughter is a healthy part of any relationship!

Yes I’m interested!!!!!!!!!

I hope this is what you’re after, it kind of got away from me and I spent way too long thinking about what all those little duckies could do.

Lucifer had a problem, one of his own making that was yellow and sometimes quacked, maybe barked, there was even ones that spoke backwards and in riddles. They came in all kinds of colours and did all sorts of things. He had a purple one that could teleport, a rainbow one that shot confetti out of its mouth when it was squeezed, he even had one that glowed in the dark and played lullaby’s. The point was that Lucifer had made a lot of rubber duckies over the years but he didn’t realise quite how many until he was looking for one specific duck.

“Where are you, you little piece of…” Lucifer grumbled, his words trailing off as he dived into another mountain of ducks, sending them tumbling down to join the rest that had spilled over the floor. He had been at this for a while now, sending his work room into chaos and all because Charlie had been telling Vaggie all about one she had seen him making when she was a child. She hadn’t asked him for it and Lucifer had honestly forgotten it existed until she had brought it up but she seemed so enamoured with it that Lucifer had decided there and then that he had to gift it to her as a reminder of happier times in her childhood. The only problem was that he couldn’t find the damned thing and he was quickly running out of patience.

“You alright there love?” Lucifers head jerks up and round at your amused voice, blinking dumbly at the sudden brightness of the room. Your leant against the door frame, eyebrows furrowed slightly but a teasing smile tugging up the corners of your mouth. You were a vision, a ray of sunshine through the grey cloud that had been steadily forming over him. “Yep! Everything’s fine. Hahaha. A oh kay. What erh, what are you doing here darling?” Lucifer laughed nervously, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment at being found in such a state.

He had abandoned his hat and jacket ages ago, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows and his gloves somewhere within the sea of ducks. Lucifer had unbuttoned his collar at some point, his bow tie pulled loose and hanging around his neck like a sad flat little snake. His face must be flushed by now and his hair that was once neat and styled probably looked more like a birds nest now, stick up in every direction and clinging to his forehead.

“Charlie called me. Seems someone has been ignoring her calls and texts for the past couple of hours and she wanted me to check in and make sure they hadn’t gotten so involved in a project they forgot to eat again. Clearly she was right to worry.” You gave him a pointed look, clearly expecting an answer for his current predicament. Bitting his lip Lucifer let his eyes sweep across the carnage that was his work room and the vast amount of ducks he still had to get through. He needed help or he was never going to get through all these, not any time soon anyway and who better to help him than you? He always wanted to spend more time with you and this would keep you in close proximity for quite some time. It was a win win in his books and he was damn sure going to take full advantage of it.

Groaning Lucifer let his shoulders slump and looked back to you, finding you in the exact same position you had been in before though your eyes had softened slightly now, worry starting to creep in at the edges. “I’m looking for a duck,” he stated, nodding slightly after he had spoken like it was that simple of an answer. “Oh really? Never would have guessed.” Lucifer glared at your sarcastic reply, huffing loudly and crossing his arms over his chest in an overly obvious display of indignation that you both knew was just for show. The gentle laughter his behaviour got him sounded sweet, even as you rolled your eyes and pushed away from the doorframe. He always liked the sound of your laughter, like music that soothed his soul and made his heart ache all at once.

“Alright your majesty, are we looking for one in particular or is this a know it when a see it situation?” You raised an eyebrow at him in question as you sank down onto one of the few spots of clear floor. “It’s made of crystal, has a really cute teeny tiny crown on its head.” You hummed at Lucifers words, your attention now firmly on the ducks that surrounded you. “And when did you last see it?” Lucifer winced at your question, tugging at his already loose collar and refusing to make eye contact with you when you glance in his direction. “I don’t know, maybe a couple of centuries ago. Charlie was about five or six at the time.” You made a weird choked off noise when he said centuries, Lucifer catching a glimpse of your hand slipping on the pile of ducks you had been looking at and sending a couple more tumbling to join the ones that Lucifer was already half buried under.

He offered you an apologetic smile and hopefully his best puppy dog eyes in an attempt to soften any sort of regret you might be feeling at having sat down to help him. It must have worked because you sighed heavily before rolling your shoulders back and sitting up straighter. “It’s fine, we’ll find it and when we do you are sooo going to make it up to me with back rubs and kisses.” Lucifer agreed readily, nodding his head and promising you that and a thousand things more. “Right! We are going to do this one duck at a time, sorting as we go. We will have four separate piles, one pile for the ones that are just rubber ducks with a unique paint job and another for the ones that do something useful.” Lucifer opens his mouth to protest because all his duckies are useful but a quick glance from you has him closing it before he can even get a sound out. “There will also be a pile for ones that do pointless things and another for the ones that are just plain dangerous.”

“They are not dangerous!” Lucifer insisted, snatching up a random duck and squeezing it to prove his point. There was a loud click followed by sound of metal grinding together and Lucifer looked down in horror as the barrel of a pistol slid out of the ducks now open mouth. “Hahaha, how did that get there?” Huffing you held your hand out expectantly and Lucifer reluctantly handed the traitorous thing over, making sure the postal was safely back in place first. Without a word you leant over and pushed a section of the ducks out of the way, clearing a patch on floor in front of you. The gun toting duck was place down gently, looking way too sweet and innocent for what it hid within.

You picked up one from next to you and held it out towards Lucifer. “What does this one do?” He squinted at the thing, turning his head slightly to the side as he tried to remember what this one did. It was yellow like most of them except this one had a red rimed beak that made it look like it had lipstick on. “Lipstick!” Lucifer shouted out triumphantly, his sudden outburst causing you to startle. “It’s lipstick, retro rouge if I’m not mistaken.” You turned the duck toward you, tilting your head quizzically as you squeezed at its sides. It’s beak parted as a stick of bright red lipstick emerged. “Huh,” you said, loosening your grip on the duck so the lipstick went back in before placing it on the floor a few inches away from the other duck. You picked up another, this one yellow with black spots and held it out towards him. “What about this one?”

This goes in for hours, one duck after another and though it would normally be a rather tedious Lucifer is having fun. Some of his duck creations really are bizarre, like the one that changes colour depending on the time of day in Hawaii or the one that screams whenever someone says pineapple. There are some good ones though, like the one that generates a personal forcefield that’s lasts up to an hour when placed on your head or the one that cleans your bath after you’ve used it. The useful pile was a lot smaller than the others though, the useless ones needing a whole corner of the room to themselves. You had even found one that said ‘I’m quackers about you’ in a squeaky voice when squeezed, a little heart shaped box of chocolates with Lucifers hat emblazoned on the front held between its wings.

Lucifer had refused to hand that one over, especially when he realised you intended to put it in the useless pile. A had sat there, cooing at the thing and stroking its head whilst you glared at him. So preoccupied with the duck Lucifer didn’t have time to prepare himself as you suddenly lunged across the space, hands grabbing for the sweet little ducky. The two of you had spent far too long rolling around the floor and tussling for the duck until finally you came to a stop, sprawled across Lucifer and the both of you breathing heavily. You were close, head hovering above his as you stared into one another’s eyes. All Lucifer would need to do is tip his head back and then he would be able to kiss you, one of his favourite things to do these days. His eyes dropped to your lips as your tongue snuck out to wet them, your teeth nipping at your bottom lip enticingly. Lucifer sucked in a deep breath, his hand flexing on your waist where it had ended up in your little play fight. Your head lowered slightly, eyes darting down to his lips then back to his eyes as if asking permission that you really didn’t need. From down by his hip there came a loud quack followed by ‘I’m quackers about you’ then another quack effectively bringing a sudden end to the tension growing between the two of you.

The two of you dissolved into laughter, Lucifer wrapping his arms around your middle as you buried your face in his neck. You lead there for a while, laughing softly until that trailed off and the two of you when just lead there, holding one another and surrounded by ducks. It had been nice if a little weird but Lucifer wasn’t complaining. “It’s true you know,” he said softly, not wanting to ruin the moment but his words had you shifting, pushing yourself up slightly so you could look down at him with confusion. “What is?” Your voice was just as soft as you spoke, the hushed tone adding to the intimacy of the moment. Sighing Lucifer reached up, cupping your check and rubbing his thumb gently across it. “I really and quackers about you,” he deadpanned.

The stunned silence that hangs between you goes on a lot longer than Lucifer thought it would and despite how hard he tries he can’t help the large smile that spreads across his face or the laugher that comes bubbling out. Groaning loudly you finished pushing yourself up into a sitting position, shoving Lucifer back down when he tried to follow. “You’re terrible,”you mumble, shifting back over slightly to avoid nocking into a stack of ducks. Lucifers still chucking when he sits back up, effortlessly catching the rubber duck you half heartedly throw at him. “Mmmm, and yet you still love me.” Lucifer wiggled an eyebrow at you, leaning in slightly to emphasise the ridiculousness of the gesture. This time it was you who couldn’t help but smile, huffing in amusement and shaking your head at him. “Yeah, I do.” Lucifer beamed like the cat who go the cream at your words, always feeling like his heart could take flight every time you told him you loved him. Truly a bizarre phenomenon that would need much more research done into it, requiring you to tell him often and in multiple ways how you felt about him. “Now come on, this bloody duck isn’t going to find its self.” Lucifer took the duck you held out to him, a hot pink one with a flame branded on its chest, and quickly lent forward to place a kiss on the back of your hand before he started telling you all about the duck and how it could be set on fire and wouldn’t melt.

That had been a good few hours ago though and night had settled heavy over the city since then. Over half the room had been cleared now, Lucifer having opened a portal and dumped all the colourful, boringly normal ducks onto a sleeping radio demon to create some extra space for you both. There was still no sign of the duck he was after though and the both of you were clearly tired, the process having slowed down considerably in the last half an hour or so. He’s beginning to think it’s a lost cause, the duck long since lost or broken.

You yawn loudly, arms stretching out above you before you fall back into the heap of ducks behind you. The groan you make sounds almost painful as you wiggle in an attempt to make yourself more comfortable amongst the ducks. Your eyes close, hands disappearing into the sea of yellow above you. Despite how horribly uncomfortable it must be you look content and Lucifer wants nothing more in that moment than to crawl over there and join you, curling up against your side and resting his head on your chest so you can both get some much needed sleep. As much as he wanted to give into temptation Lucifer was determined to find the duck for Charlie, fixated on giving her that little moment of happiness and wonder that had stayed with her since childhood. That didn’t mean you had to suffer with him though.

“I think it’s time you were getting to bed darling, I can finish up in here.” Your eyes open slightly at his words, brows furrowed and your smile slipping into a frown. “Lucifer.” There was an odd tone to your voice, one that he probably should have paid more attention to but Lucifer assumed he knew what you were going to say so he kept on talking, turning away from you to continue looking through the ducks as he did so. “I know. I should be trying to get some sleep as well but you know I won’t be able to, (Lucifer), not till I’ve found this duck anyway and I really just want to surprise Charlie with it. She seemed so happy when she was talking to Vaggie about it and I just wanted to, (LUCIFER!)” Your loud cry of his name had Lucifer jumping, dropping the duck he had been holding to the floor with a loud splat as it oozed out like a marshmallow melting in the sun.

Laughing nervously Lucifer turns back to you, an apology already on the tip of his tongue but it quickly disappears when he sees what you’re holding. You’ve sat up, eyes fixed on your hand that you’re holding out towards him. In your palm sits a crystal duck, a small black crown sat atop its head styled similarly to Charlie’s own. Lucifer sucked in a breath, reaching out to take the thing from you with trembling fingers. He can’t believe you had found it, just when he was starting to lose hope. You truly must be heaven sent.

Without warning Lucifer lunged at you, flinging his arms around your neck and sending you sprawling back into the ducks with a yelp. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” Lucifer said between peppering your face with kisses. “Lucifer,” you laugh, turning your head to the side and giving him access to your neck. He places a few more quick pecks along your neck and the top of your shoulder before placing one final one on your lips.

“She’s going to be so surprised,” Lucifer beamed, pushing himself back up and turning towards the door, a wide smile on his face as he stared down at the crystal duck clutched in his hand. He didn’t get more than two steps towards the door before fingers wrapped around his wrist and stopped him in his tracks. Frowning Lucifer looked back over his shoulder at you, finding you looking at him just as confused as he was you. “Where are you going?” Lucifer blinked down at you dumbly because surely that was obvious? “To give Charlie the duck?” It came out slow and sounding more like a question, Lucifer even holding up the duck in case you had forgotten.

Your confusion smoothed out into understanding, a small smile curling up the corner of your lips. “Lucifer,” you said almost teasingly, tugging gently on his wrist until he turned to face you fully. “It’s the middle of the night love. She’s going to be asleep, and even if she isn’t she’s probably going to be doing something she doesn’t want her dad walking in on.” You look at him pointedly, waiting for your words to sink in. “Oh…ohhhh,” lucifers eyes went wide, looking down at the little duck in a mix of horror and embarrassment.

You chuckle gently, tugging on his arm and causing him to take a step towards you. “So why don’t you,” you plucked the duck from his hand, leaning back to place it on top of the coffee table before turning back to him and wrapping your hands around his wrists, “come back here and finish giving me my reward hum?” You tugged him forward and down, Lucifer’s knees hitting the floor on either side of your waist with a dull thud. You used your hold on his wrists to lift his hands and place them on your shoulders before gripping his waist and pulling him down and closer until he was sat in your lap. Lucifer blushed, licking at his lips and swallowing slightly. “I eh, I can do that.” You hummed at his words, lifting one hand to cup his cheek and guiding his lips down to yours.

The first few kisses were soft and slow, Lucifer humming gently at the addictive feel of your lips moving against his. He sank into you, getting more comfortable on your lap and letting his arms drape over your shoulders. The two of you stayed like that for a few long minutes, Lucifer content to spend hours just like that but it seemed you had other ideas. Pulling back you nipped gently at his lip, Lucifer letting out a little whimper at the sudden sting. Resting your forehead against his you slid both your hands up his back, pressing him as close to you as he could get. “Hold on tight,” you mumbled, placing a kiss against his lips.

Lucifer barely had time to register what you had said before you were moving, effortlessly tipping him to the side and rolling him onto his back. He landed within the ducks with a dull thud, several of the stupid things tumbling down to land on his face. Your laughter was sweet as you helped remove the offending ducks off his face, leaving the ones that had fallen around his head and shoulders. “There you are handsome,” you smile as you remove the last one from his head, clearly delighting in the bush your words get you. “Your erh, looking rather radiant as well.” Lucifer cringes at his own awkward attempts at flirting, refusing to look at you because of how awfully that was. You would think he would have gotten better at this sort of thing over the centuries but there was something about you that just left him flustered and unable to say what he means when in your company. When you’re not around he can wax poetry about how your smile lights up the world like a sunbeam or how your eyes sparkle like the stars, but now? With you looking down at him like he’s your whole universe? Not happening.

You shift to the side slightly, slotting one of your legs between his and pressing up against him. “Only when you’re the one looking,” you whisper before pressing your lips against his, using his startled gasp as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. Lucifer moans softly, wrapping his arms around your neck and pulling you in closer. There’s a duck digging into his back and the sound of muffled quacking coming from somewhere above him as their movements caused another wave of ducks to fall down in them. It was ridiculous, kissing in a pile of ducks that were threatening to swallow the two of you up but Lucifer found he didn’t really care, especially when your tongue swiped across his lips, seeking permission that he readily gave. This here, this was the closest to heaven he had felt in eons and he was content to stay in this moment for eternity. Well at least till Charlie woke up anyway.

[ladystarksneedle]

The eye of awe

Aemond x maid reader

Summary: A maid at the Keep relishes in the sweetness of gratitude.

Word count: 1.2k

Dividers by @saradika

Next>

She hears the familiar clang of steel as she passes through the courtyard, wicker basket in hand daring to glance at the flash of silver dancing in the sun. He moves with the fluidity of men from myth, of childhood tales told by mothers of the Realm willing their meddlesome children to bed. Stories of agile and fearsome warriors fighting to save kingdoms of might and maidens of beauty, slender and graceful with their arms and legs, dancing to tunes of mystery. She finds him to have both, equal parts grace and ferocity as he dodges another blow before his blade lands against his opponent's throat. As the crowd erupts in applause she ducks under the archway leading indoors. Just like her childhood, her escape for the day is at its end and her eyes wide open to the life ahead.

Work at the Red Keep is equal parts arduous as it is rewarding. Despite her young age, she's been promoted from a scullery maid to working in service to the one eyed prince himself. She assists him daily, organizing his clothes, tidying his chambers, ordering his baths, serving his meals and above all making sure the order he has in place is never disrupted.

“Chaos is only tackled well on the battlefield” he'd said to her when she was brought to him “I do not expect an ounce near me. Should I find you lacking, you'll be sent away before you can make your apologies.”

His return to his chambers is angrier than usual. His bath lies ready at his disposal, his clothes laid out meticulously on the bed. A linen tunic, leather surcoat and coat, linen breeches, trousers of wool and two leather belts lined with gold are arranged in that order, all in shades of ivory, black and brown, adorned with the familiar three headed dragon glinting in gold ready to greet him once he finishes. The only piece of cloth that remains askew is his eyepatch discarded on the dresser in haste, as she stands waiting outside, unwilling to initiate change.

It is the only one he wears rather religiously despite its condition. It is whispered by the maids in passing, that it was Princess Helaena who made it for him, ever since he lost his eye at ten, the dreaded incident never spoken of lest one incur his wrath. It is said that the wound itself was inflicted by a lad of eight, his own nephew, for a purpose widely disputed by all she's heard from. She finds the whole thing rather nasty, a cruel punishment or perhaps an unfair trial from the Gods. The others think it rather fitting for a man so cruel to be felled in such a way, yet she finds it akin to being cursed, for him to be so beautiful yet troubled. Despite his harshness and cold gaze, he's been nothing but courteous to her which is the most she can expect from any master she serves and is far better than one with grabby hands and wayward eyes. He's expectant and demanding, yet acknowledges a task well done. Perhaps it is his look of quiet praise on a hard day that carries her to the markets at noon, skipping her meal with ease. The leather she requires has been borrowed from scraps cleaned at the dressmaker’s, earning her a bewildered gaze and an equally prompt dismissal. The clasp she looks for however, costs a silver dragon. It is a lot, nearly half of her earnings yet she parts with them willingly. The gold ornament burns her palms as she heads back in time to resume her duties, a thrilled smile on her face.

She's been taught how to sew since she was a child, enough to be able to fix a hole, a gape or tear in both tunic and chemise alike.

She has fixed her father's breeches after a hard day's work and her brothers’ after they'd torn theirs running through the crowded streets of King's landing. Even stitching a wound comes easy to her now, having learned how to do so, after a shoddy job a few moons back, when coin had run dry to turn to the local healer. She smiles to herself as she pulls the threads through the leather at hand. It is brown enough to hide the gaps in her work and though it isn't as fine as the embroidery of a lady she's satisfied with it nonetheless. She stares at her little contraption in awe as she finishes in time. It has a single strap running across its breath held together by a gold button she'd found lying on the floor. On its side she's opted for a sturdier one with the golden clasp holding it all together behind, a single flame for the prince she serves, the closest she'll ever come to the might of the dragon.

There's a feast to be held tonight, in honor of his nameday. Guests from all over the Realm have arrived and as the Keep buzzes with excitement of the festivities at dusk and she finds it hard to contain her own delight. There is much work to be done before she can part with her surprise. She tends to him soon, dressing him for dinner in leathers of green and black, clasping the familiar worn out strap as he leaves grumbling. It is hours later when she sees him again as she's summoned by the familiar ring of the bell in her quarters. She creeps to his room in trepidation, hands clasped behind her back as she greets and readies him for bed, her gift heavy in her pocket. As he turns to dismiss her she looks at him shyly

“If you don't mind me saying, I'd like to wish you a happy nameday my prince”

He nods in response, humming as he makes his way to the fireplace, seating himself as he stares ahead.

“I have something for you” she continues moving towards him as he looks up “It isn't much but a mere token of my gratitude” she says extending her hand. “Thank you, for everything” she continues, stopping as she looks at him. He takes the leather in his hand, turning it over in silence.

When she was a child her mother had taken her to see her aunt. It was the first trip she'd taken outside the capital to visit a dying woman and provide her comfort. As they'd returned she'd shown her the sky, full of stars at night, bright and beautiful away from the haze of the city.

“Your aunt's up there now girl, watching over you just as I'll be someday” she'd said pointing to the drops of light adorning the skies.

His eye runs over the gold in hand, flame fitting into his palm like it belongs, shining like the stars of a forgotten past.

“Come, help me wear it” he remarks as he leans back.

As she clasps it in place and curtsies, she’s lost to dreams of silver chased with a flame of gold.

Clashes of steel greet her the next morn, a flame of gold glinting in the sun. Her dreams don't end with the battle at hand anymore, for the mighty warrior now carries a part of the maiden with him and she's content to hold his gaze just a little longer.

Taglist: @witheredoffherwitch @arcielee @chompchompluke @barbieaemond @watercolorskyy

[yesterdayiwrote]

After reading @vro0m's post suggesting Grill the Grid should take on a Taskmaster format, please have my ‘not entirely definitive’ list of Which Taskmaster contestant the 2023 F1 grid would most be like...

Max Verstappen : Kerry Godliman - Wants to win. Doesn’t want you to know how much they want to win. Until you tell them he’s done it wrong and then he argues the rules with you incessantly. Probably loves a laminator. Bosh, done.

Sergio Perez : Paul Sinha - Should be really good at this. Is getting a bit old though and inexplicably fucking the whole thing up. Is really trying but just permanently perplexed about how this isn’t going better for them.

Charles Leclerc : Judi Love - Is trying really hard, still not quite understanding what they’re being asked to do but not wanting anyone to realise how confused they are. Most likely to ask ‘Is there a duck on my face?’

Carlos Sainz : Joe Thomas - Is also very confused, but slightly less chaotic with it, not exactly hiding how confused they are, just openly having a breakdown while their brain stops working. Liable to suddenly argue back about how unfair it is and how hard they’re trying.

Lewis Hamilton : Liza Tarbuck - Knows what they’re doing, minimal fuss, just gets on with it and ends up winning everything. Is starting to get mildly irritated you’re asking them to do it still, decreases effort throughout proceedings, yet still somehow manages to do really well

George Russell: Mel Giedroyc - George is Mel. Rushes into every task with enthusiasm. Highly competitive. Tackles every task with a cacophony of Britishisms spilling from his mouth in place of swear words to hide his frustrations, whilst simultaneously congratulating the crew on what great tasks they’ve come up with. (There is also a really strong argument for Ivo Graham here. Bringing big Eton energy but slightly more angsty about his failures)

Lando Norris : Nish Kumar - Is trying really, really hard. Is also failing really, really hard by failing to notice generally what’s going on around him.

Oscar Piastri : Richard Osman - Just getting the tasks done in a calm, sensible manner. No bells and whistles, just taking it all in his stride.

Esteban Ocon : Jessica Knappett - Goes rushing in to everything with enthusiasm and positive energy and falls face first into failure. Tall and lanky and just very happy to be here.

Pierre Gasly : Iain Stirling - Tries really hard, really wants to win, but you can’t shake the feeling that you’re watching a Love Island episode whenever you watch him attempt anything (just for wildly different reasons).

Fernando Alonso : Rhod Gilbert - Quietly confident of their own abilities. A bit of a lone wolf and hates team tasks because he just wants to win for himself. Has an uncanny knack of finding a loophole and winning tasks thanks to some dirt he has on the taskmaster from many years ago.

Lance Stroll : Paul Chowdhry - He’s not entirely sure how he’s ended up here, or what he’s supposed to do, but he’s giving it a go anyway. Appears unenthusiastic about everything but actually wants to win, just with the least possible effort he can muster.

Valtteri Bottas : Hugh Dennis - Very calm about everything, even his own failures. Actually not that worried about where he comes, just happy to be taking part. (Valtteri would actually be Fred the Swede but he’s not a contestant so he can’t be)

Zhou Guanyu : Charlotte Ritchie - Appears like they have it all together. Calm and softly spoken, yet strangely chaotic when given a task. Seems really eager to please but kind of low key stressed and anxious. (A certain element of Sophie Duker or Mawaan Rizwan entirely for the great fits though)

Yuki Tsunoda : Fern Brady - Is very stressed about everything and would very much like to go home for a big sleep because being competitive is exhausting

Daniel Ricciardo : Joe Wilkinson - Chaos. Full stop.

Nico Hulkenberg : Lee Mack - This is one of the harder ones because he could be any of the ‘uncontroversial older guy’ contestants. Went for Lee because he’d probably keep dropping dad jokes in there but not a total chaos demon. Just does…fine?

Kevin Magnussen : Ardal O’Hanlon - Similar to what I wrote for Nico but with a bit more chaos and confusion thrown in, but just politely smiling his way through it. (See also Alan Davies)

Alex Albon : James Acaster - Has a severe dislike for whoever organised this, would quite like it to be over. Would also like to win. Doesn’t want to look desperate with it but is actually trying very hard. Is very angry that he’s not winning and ends up ranting about how unfair it is to hide his disappointment.

Logan Sargeant : Desiree Burch - American. (Look, I ran out of ideas for Logan I will admit)

[crybaby-bkg]

I was Singing This Song for You

Bakugou x female reader

Warnings/Tags: Mafia Boss Bakugou, gun violence, injury, blood, mentions of dead bodies but no main characters are killed, mentions of drinking, reader is a singer and pianist, reader wears dresses/makeup/heels for performances, momentary dissociation, smut, oral (f!receiving), cum eating, riding, desk sex, reader is very sarcastic, mentions of sex work, unsafe sex. please let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 9.7k

Notes: this has been in the works for a few months now and I finally got around to finishing it!! thank you again Jo for helping me develop the idea 🥰 also some commotion for the banner that I made ALL BY MYSELF????? 😌 hope you all enjoy!! the entire thing will be available on ao3 only because of the length, so below will be a few excerpts from the story!!

“Like my performance?” You ask him in a hum, sipping at your own martini that you’ve carried from the bar, before placing it down in front of you. The man eyes you for a while, then your drink, silently wondering why you’ve made yourself so comfortable in his presence even though he’s never directly spoken a word to you.

“It was nice.” His voice is gruff, raspy and low, barely audible under the next singer whose voice is just a bit too scratchy for the soft ambience of the room. You cock an eyebrow at him, chuckling under your breath, as you swirl a single manicured finger over the rim of your glass.

“Just nice?” You say, a devious smile pulling at your lips as you watch how his cheeks flush red under the golden light of the room. But the man frowns, sipping at his drink again, as you watch how his Adams apple bobs with his swallow, before he shrugs and sets his drink down from across yours.

“Just nice.” He repeats, narrowing his eyes at you, trying to understand what you’re playing at, why you’re sitting here with him, what you really want. You laugh a little though, eyes crinkling as you examine the man, how he seems to only get redder under your attention. You take him in as your laughter dies down, staring at the man who scowls further the more you take him in.

“What, you looking for me to buy you a place, and you don’t even know my name yet?” The man scoffs again, a tiny little lilt lifting up the corner of his mouth. He’s bantering with you, and it makes you want to pull more conversation out of him, even if he scowls more than he smiles.

“If I get your name, can I get a mansion with it?” You grin at him, cheekily sipping your drink, eyes crinkling when he snorts loudly. He covers his mouth with a large palm, shaking his head at you as he downs the rest of his drink with one long swallow.

“I’m starting to run out of songs, sweetheart.” He confesses, stands to slip back into his suit jacket, looking over his shoulder when you stand to help him into it.

“Well you better go digging for more, ‘cause I don’t do repeats.” You pinch at the skin of his nape before patting his collar down. He snorts under his breath, looking at you funny as he straightens his sleeves out.

“I’ve heard you sing A Song for You like, thirty times now—”

“That doesn’t count!” You tell him, waving a finger in the air. Bakugou outright laughs at that, a sight everyone in the speakeasy tries not to gape at, but it’s hard to when a man like that seems so easily joyous with someone as gentle as you. Bakugou doesn’t notice though, only has eyes for you, and you the same.

Everything is chaos after that. There’s people screaming, running to get away, more shots ringing throughout the speakeasy, cries being torn from gaping mouths. Or is that you? Have you gotten so detached that you can’t even recognize the sounds that spill from your own throat? Can’t feel the piano keys still resting under your fingers? Can’t move your body to duck, to hide, to run, forced to be stuck in the limbo of watching Bakugou fall to the ground and grunt in pain?

Is it tears, that run down your face, or is the blood splatters of a henchman that is sprawled right below the stage? You can’t tell the difference, and when your fingers shakily reach up to find what stains you, you pull them back, greeted by salt and crimson.

“What can I say? I can’t have my big tipper dying on me.” You shrug, laughing a little when Bakugou bites at the curve of your stomach at that. He pulls back though, his hands holding the skirt of your dress, in its tattered and ruined form, looking at you like you’re heaven sent, a deity to bless him and wash him away, sinless.

Read the entire thing here on ao3!

[biaswreckingfics]

Ooh ooh, Wooyoung and 54, if inspiration strikes. Pretty please?

Wooyoung + Fluff

(You've always been my favorite.)

When you walk up the trail to the park, you see your group of friends gathered together exactly where you planned to meet. A smile breaks out on your face as you hurry over to them. Some are spread out on the ground, others are screwing around doing flips or throwing things back and forth to each other. All in all, it's chaos like it always is.

A few of them greet you as you approach and you wave. The weather is beautiful and a ton of people are outside enjoying the day. You plop down on a blanket someone had laid out and begin a small conversation with your friends.

"You should've seen the way they were wrestling each other," Mingi tells you, filling you in on the things you've already missed. "I thought Yunho really broke his nose for a second."

"One of you is going to get hurt one day," you shake your head.

Mingi ruefully smiles when someone suddenly plops down next to you. You look over to see Wooyoung sharing your blanket, followed closely by San.

"Hey, you finally made it," his smile beams at you. It's contagious and you find yourself smiling back at him. "I've been waiting for you to show up."

"He has," San confirms. "He hasn't shut up about you."

Wooyoung smacks San on the arm for outing him. His words manage to heat up your face and you duck your head a little to hide it. San doesn't know about your crush - you don't think any of them do - so his words seem all the more genuine and not like he's just teasing Wooyoung.

"That's because they're better company than you are," Wooyoung tells him before focusing back on you. "Did you get my text?"

Recalling that Wooyoung had texted you before you left your house and told you he had a surprise for you when you got here, you nod. He grins and pulls something out from behind his back. You recognize the packing immediately and sit up straight with a squeak. Wooyoung laughs as you take the crinkly package from his hands and admire it.

Ever since the two of you met, Wooyoung has been bringing you snacks from his hometown whenever he goes home and visits. The candy isn't something you can get around here, and Wooyoung knows how much you like them, so he always gets you some.

"Oh, Wooyoung! Thank you!"

"I know how much you like that one, so I made sure to grab it before I came back."

You grin. "I'm so happy you remembered."

"Of course, I remembered, you're my favorite person. How could I forget?"

San jokingly pretends to choke on the sweetness of the conversation, but you ignore him. Your heart is too busy doing backflips in your chest.

"I'm your favorite?" You ask, giving San a pointed look to let him know you saw his actions. He laughs good-naturedly. 

"You've always been my favorite…"

Wooyoung's words are spoken so softly that even San stops goofing around to look at him. Almost like remembering where he's at, Wooyoung shakes himself and smiles at you.

"Enjoy your treat!"

[serpentmythos]

Do you have an oc or a bit of your writing you’ve been thinking about or wanting to talk about lately?

WHY YES I DO, THANK YOU. HAVE MY DEMON SLAYER OC:

Xiaolan Matsunade was born in the Yoshiwara district to a courtesan of the Kyogoku House and one of her many clients. Her mother passed away shortly after birth, and she has no knowledge of her father. She was raised by the courtesans and elderly manager of the Kyogoku House, referring to the courtesans as her sisters and the manager as "Grannie'. While growing up, she was trained in a variety of classic entertainment arts like dancing, reciting poetry, and playing the shamisen. However, her favorite thing to do is perform the traditional tea ceremony for her sister's clients.

Xiaolan is a kind and soft spoken young woman, who's years of being raised in the red lantern district taught her to be hyperaware of her surroundings. Shockingly perceptive, she's stolen potential client's hearts with the way she would cater to their whims while her sisters worked, bringing snacks, refreshments/alcohol, paper and ink stones, whatever the men may need in that moment without being told. A twitch of a finger, curl of the lips, a stolen glance at an object, Xiaolan has learned to interpret each one with startling accuracy. Despite her skills, she had yet to service a client in the brothel herself, instead acting as a lady-in-waiting to the oiran there.

Xiaolan took after her mother in terms of looks, sharing the woman's deep violet eyes, fair complexion, and balanced, just-curvy-enough figure developing as she grows up. However, she has her father's indigo black hair, which she normally keeps styled in a loose bun. Regardless of style, her hair is almost always held in place by her mother's favorite accessory, a long silver hairpin accented with a blue crystal butterfly charm.

Following the battle with Daki and Gyuutaro in Yoshiwara, Xiaolan joined the Demon Hunters as part of the Kakushi, hoping to one day meet the Demon Slayers who helped save her adopted family, and the people of Yoshiwara.

And a 3am shower thought that has consumed my brain:

Xiaolan meeting Inosuke when he's disguised as an oiran, fully believing him to be a girl at the time given his more effeminate facial features. Of course, this pisses him off, but for the sake of the mission, he can't blow his cover. So Xiaolan treats him as any girl would treat her friends. They talk and spend time together helping around the brothel, maybe Inosuke coming to "tolerate" (we all know he'd never admit to liking something outside of fighting and food) her hanging out with him.

One night, Xiaolan wakes Inosuke up to ask if he wants to join her in sneaking out of the brothel to visit a night market taking place outside of the walls of the Yoshiwara District. They sneak out, and Inosuke actually enjoys himself, eating tasty street food and watching Xiaolan swindle free trinkets by flirting with any young men manning the stalls. They come to a perfume stall, and the owner tries to sell some to the two "girls". Xiaolan is torn between two scents and asks Inosuke to pick between the two of them for her. Whichever one he picks is the one she gets. But wait, shit, she's too short on coinage, and the stall owner doesn't fall for her flirtations. After a few seconds and seeing Xiaolan's disappointed expression, being the King of No Impulse Control, Inosuke just yoinks the little pot with the perfumed oil in it and fucking BOOKS it, yelling for Xiaolan to run. They spend the rest of the night ducking in and out of the rows of vendors, hiding from the perfume stall owner and the night market guards before sneaking back into the brothel just before sunrise. He gives her the perfume, and she surprises him with a small wooden carving of a boar she got from one of the vendors, as a thank you for nabbing the solid perfume for her.

This all happens before the battle with Daki. Xiaolan makes it out of the chaos safely, but she never saw Inosuke again. She was heartbroken, looking for him afterward. He wasn't with the line up of bodies following the demon battle, so Xiaolan fully believed her friend was still alive out there somewhere, despite the Kyogoku survivors saying otherwise. "She" had to be alive, "she" was too stubborn and clever to die like that! They never recovered a body, after all, right?!

Eventually, the damage is repaired, and life in the Yoshiwara District returns to normal after a time. That's when she hears rumors from the other courtesans about the Demon Slayer Corp saving everybody that night. Maybe they knew something about her friend, or at the very least they could give her a lead! So she joins the Demon Slayers as a member of the Kakushi, to see if she can figure anything out. Years go by, nobody knows anything, or if they do, they weren't willing to tell her. So eventually, her goal of finding out what happened to Inosuke fades, and she falls into the rhythm of her duties as a Kakushi.

Until one day, almost 10 years after their run through the Night Market, Inosuke is brought in after a mission to be treated at the Butterfly Mansion for injuries he sustained. He wakes up in the usual hospital bed, but something is different this time. There's a faint, but DISTINCTLY FAMILIAR scent filling his nostrils through his mask, forcefully YANKING almost-forgotten memories from his early years in the Demon Slayer Corp back to the forefront of his mind...

Where did he remember this crisp, floral, and woody scent from? A scent so reminiscent of spring on the mountainside... Why was it tugging at his heartstrings, and filling him with such a deep sense of loss and longing for something? No, not something... SomeONE. Finally the muffled sounds of voices outside the room catch his attention, and he grits his teeth against the pain in his limbs as he pulls himself to his feet, aiming to demand whoever was out there if they could smell it, too. Ignoring the cries of the attendants Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho of how he needed to lie back down, to think of how upset Lady Aoi would be if he didn't heal properly! He all but rips open the door to see Shinobu speaking with a Kakushi woman, carrying a wrapped bundle gently in her arms. The Insect Hashira simply gazes up at him with the same soft smile she always wore, but the sudden slamming of the door made the Kakushi woman jump, gazing up at the peircing blue eyes of his mask with her own deep violet ones. Inosuke opening his mouth and then shutting it again as the gears in his head turned over and over again.

The scent was eminating the strongest off of her.

[gendervapor14]

01746 birthday bash ~day three~ chapter 28: rendezvous

content warnings: graphic violence, selective mutism word count: 604 words brief summary: rosinante sees his brother again after 14 years.

The main floor was so dark and chaotic, swarming with confused pirates. Rosinante couldn’t quite make out who had seen him, and who was firing. It was hard enough to see at all. Fuck it. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a grenade, tearing off the pin and whipping it across the room with a soundless Calm spell to really incite the hysteria. He ducked for cover while silently, a mob of pirates erupted. The giant iron shelf that collapsed into the glass office wasn’t nearly as quiet.

Despite the chaos, Rosinante found himself grinning with confidence. He was still in control. There couldn’t be more than a dozen pirates left. This was an impressive feat, working out to his liking. Maybe I could find the captain, get in a scrap with him, and—

With a startled grunt, someone leapt in from behind, pinning him to the ground. His head smacked against the concrete, leaving his entire world spinning. Whoever had assaulted him twisted his arms behind his back in a rough pin that nearly had him crying out. Shit. Why do I bother planning anything…?

“I got ‘em boys! Ha, ha, I got the rat-bastard—!”

A horrible, iron-bending-splitting-screeching echoed across the entire facility. Sunrise poured in. With still-spinning vision, Rosinante glanced over towards the massive garage door that had been pried open through wildly unnatural means.

Now he understood why those agents said just the sight of Doflamingo was enough to freeze blood solid.

“I-Is that…?”

“Do-Doflamingo!?”

“This must be one of his men!”

He stood there with an arm outstretched, backlit in the early morning sun. Just a glimmer of it caught in his lenses as he withdrew his arm, head turning as he took in the sights. The mass destruction, the littered bodies, the smoke. And then, as Rosinante’s crushed lungs puffed out shattered fragments of air, those eyes landed on him.

Fingers twitched. The man atop Rosinante cried out and gurgled. A headless corpse fell there on the ground beside him as the pressure slid off his back. Rosinante just stared, petrified. The Joker’s shoes clicked sharply on the floors, not unlike the sound of high-heels, as every pirate in the room remained entirely still.

Doflamingo paused a distance away from Rosinante. Not yet close for a conversation, or really much of anything. As if he just needed to take a closer look, to confirm that there really was a man lying there on the floor who could be his brother. And then, he turned away, hands out, fingers cricking. Massive worms, no, threads, burst through the walls, the floors. They ripped up foundation like paper, tangling around any remaining criminal and either spearing them through the chest, or beating them against walls until they weren’t even recognizable.

Frozen still, Rosinante just stared.

As Doflamingo eyed around the place, uncomfortably quiet, he lowered his arms, and the massive threads receded into the ground as if they ever belonged there to begin with. Walls crumbled. Dust settled. Swiftly, his head turned down to the floor-bound blond. Another click of a step echoed as he kneeled down, white pants marked with a bit of soot from the earlier explosion, feathers settling almost gracefully over dust and debris.

“Rosinante…?” How dreaded that name could sound, spoken with the voice of the devil himself. “Is it really you?”

The marine stared into those lenses. Harsh. Reflective. Unforgiving. Subhuman. He was left staring at himself, laying there in a dumb, overwhelmed, stupor. A total shutdown. The worst possible scenario.

I’m sorry Sengoku. You were right. I was never ready for this.

read the full story here ♥

previous entry here

[delusionalgirlwritingfanfic]

Pirates of the Caribbean shaped me as a child and still has a choke hold on me to this day. When I saw someone suggest this I had to have it immediately so thank you for letting me write it. I’m so sorry it’s not longer. I really wanted it to be, but it was just sitting because I could not think up more of a plot. I've also been listening to the warrior of the Mind a lot, so I sprinkled that vibe in here to, it gave me big Nikolai vibes I couldn't resist.

“ Captain of Medusa, serpent siren, daughter of the sea. Poseidon fury.” 

She looked at him with raised eyebrows waiting for his list to be finished folding her arms across her chest.  “ Flattery doesn’t work on me.” Flattery did work on her. 

Sturmhond strutted across the doorway to her desk. “ Your reputation precedes you. How would you feel about a proposition?” 

A leg kicked up as she propped her foot one leaning on the desk. “ It depends on the terms of your agreement. What do you have in mind?”

Sturmhond hands glided over the paper he laid out. “A design for a ship, I liked your input, I need a crew and you would be the perfect first mate. I saw your skills.You look at things from all angles, completely neutral, a problem solver and quick at thinking ahead. You ask all the right questions and know where to look.” 

“ I could use someone like you. Your perspective, your opinion. What do you say? We would make a spectacular team with my charm and your intellect.”

“ Well see where it ends.” 

“ Is that a yes?” He looked like a puppy tilting his head towards her in excitement. 

A grin spread across her face with a mischievous twinkle. " You had me at the word improbable. I do like to prove people wrong, it's a hobby of mine."

He clapped his hands together as if sealing the deal.  “Perfect, let’s get started.” 

Present   

Dark clouds shielded any light. The tension was as thick as the humid weather brewing above along the crew who scampered preparing for a fight. The yelling of barked orders was over lost to the ears against the harsh wind. The ship rocked dangerously back and forth even with the squallers keeping them on course. Another ship had been closing in on them. Merging the two, aligning the boats to infiltrate them. 

Alina held a wild look about her as she stared in disbelief. “ You're both insane!” 

“ But it could work.” Mal asked in hesitation. He would take any option that didn't require the sun summoner to be in possession of the Black Heretic. Even if it was suicidal. 

“ You mean it’s Improbable." The captain let his smirk slip across spreading wide, he had faith in the plan of which they didn’t know the full details, cunning fox indeed. 

Sturmhond second looked at the couple. “ It’s our last shot. Do you want to defeat the darling or not?" She had spoken the blunt truth, though the group waited with bated breaths considering the circumstances, holding each other's gaze with a fierce ambition. 

Sturmhond nodded. It was his ship, his call. They would follow his command. The circle dispersed, running off in haste. 

The two crews had merged together fighting tirelessly. She ran about in the chaos of the middle of the battle continually looking over her shoulder to help where she could. But at this moment in the thickest part where grisha had their power she used all the strength she could muster. In full force she charged forward in the swarm of bodies clustered at arms.  

The clouds swirl above in a funnel, a dark mass bursting ripping the sky open. Suddenly she couldn’t see in front of her from the sheets of rain that splattered smacking the deck of the ship.  

“Marry me!” Sturmhond blurted, as his hand gripped the rope netting watching her from where he slashed with his sword. The privater kept track of where she was and the two worked better in tandem fighting side by side. It was a perfected rhythm over the years with one another. 

She ducked as a gunshot whizzed by. “I don’t think now is the best time!” 

He shouted from the ledge,“ We do this together. Forever, me and you!” Then he jumped down to be near. His coat swishing as his feet hit the deck. 

 Wet hair clung to her face, darkening its natural color. Water dripped into her vision, blurring as her eyes sought him. Squinting into the rain she glanced up to see where his most loyal crew held the high ground attending to their aponanite. Against the sound of battle below, she yelled at the heartender who was watching his sister's back in battle carried his blade above them on the bow. 

 “Toyla! Marry us!”  

Normally you could ask the captain of the ship but for obvious reasons they had to improvise. The man who loved romantic gestures of course had his license to be ordained, It was only appropriate. 

“I’m a little busy at the moment!” He grunted from the top of the bow. “ Can’t this wait? On any other occasion this would be very romantic.” 

“ Now!” The couple spun around to face each other once again.

“ Fine, alright.”  Toyla sent a kick to the chest, sending a man flying across the boards. He stood standing over the railing. “ By the power invested in me man and wife will be joined in union until they share wrinkles into the next life.” 

 “Just kiss!” In exasperation he yelled back over his shoulder. Someone had jumped on him from behind, annoyed he easily tossed them behind fast forwarding their proposal to the end.

Through the blurred rain that pealted the deck of the ship she looked at him. His white shirt fused to his skin, the light weight flock see through. The coat whipping in the wind. 

Sturmhond reached for her, drawing her in with a deep kiss. Their lips clashed hungerly. A hand cradled his head as her arm swept scrunched his hair grounding her to him. The other hand had her fingers gripping his jacket collar. Catching air her lips brushed up from his the pair caught their breath, never losing contact, their heads resting to each other chests panting. 

He stroked a piece of her hair away, “When we get back to Ravak we’ll have a proper wedding.”

Breathless she gasped filling her lungs. “ One on the ship is just fine.” 

“ My mother won’t allow that. Nor will Toyla let us continue to breathe without proper vows if he doesn't ordain us.” 

“ Come find me when this is done.” Sturmhond gazed into her eyes as she nodded to him, in one last passionate kiss they stood in the center of the deck. The captain encompassing the women, her back arched dipping, against him, their hands slide brushing the tips of their fingers before parting back into battle.  

[godfrey-the-chaos-duck]

@emeraldcity1900

ya mean this clip

(praying this doesn't get yeeted off the post for violating The Mouse, this was done with my shitty screen recorder lmfao)

[bronanlynch]

@duckswithwings: *grabby hands at all of it* but like in a non pressuring way, lmao

oh well since u asked lol. happy wip friday

they are flirtinggg

“Of course,” said Sylvain. “Although, wait, hang on a minute, how do you know that Lorenz and Hilda are the only Leicester generals who like rose petal tea? Do you memorize everyone’s drink preferences or something?” “What, don’t you?” Yuri said. No wonder Sylvain had always had so much trouble getting a second date. Although Yuri suspected Sylvain remembered what sort of drinks those girls liked and bought them the wrong thing on purpose in order to get dumped. “This feels like a test,” said Sylvain. “Is this your subtle way of telling me that I have to order our next round?” “Depends,” Yuri said. “What would you order for me?”

if no one else including canon will give me anything abt shaddiq & his besties I'll do it myself

Sabina had never spoken to him directly before and she doubted he would even recognize her, but she recognized him. He sat two rows ahead of her in geometry and was the only person with a higher score than her in robotics, and he had a bright smile and a quick tongue and an answer to everything, even if it wasn’t always the answer the teachers were looking for. And what he was doing right now was almost certainly against the rules.

everything in this fic is a metaphor probably

All swans in Britain were apparently property of the Queen—or so one of Susato-san’s guidebooks had claimed—but he didn’t trust them. Whenever he walked through the park on his roundabout way home from delivering yet another essay to Lord Stronghart, he saw another swan terrorizing ducks and tourists alike, bullying them out of scraps of bread with the threat of its powerful beak. Not to mention that he couldn’t look at one without recalling Jezaille Brett’s horribly tacky hat.

unfortunately, tw*tter, (the actual punchline is that this happens like. immediately before all of the season 1 finale stuff kicks off so the reaction to this gets lost in the chaos of All Of That)

not beating the furry allegations @/[PLACEHOLDER] imagine getting banned from herotv forums for saying what barnaby did to wild tiger not beating the furry allegations @/[PLACEHOLDER] @/[PLACEHOLDER] he fucked that old man Wild Tiger Official @Wild_Tiger_Hero @/[PLACEHOLDER] I’m not old I’m only thirty-five. This tweet has been deleted.

BARNABY X TIGER REAL @/[PLACEHOLDER] ok but he didn’t deny it?????????

[stitchandani]

What are your guys’s thoughts on some of the new casting announcements for the upcoming live action Lilo and Stitch? There’s been some chaos regarding the casting decision of Sydney Elizebeth Agudong as Nani and Kahiau Machado is confirmed to be playing David, along with Billy Magnusson playing an unconfirmed role.

Doverstar Hi anon! Well, first off, I want to reiterate that Arti and I actually don't care very much about the live-action L&S. We're two of those oldies that consider the live-action re-imaginings as totally unnecessary, low-quality, irritating cash grabs that almost never honor or pay proper homage to the original Disney classics they're based on. So. Disclaimer there. I do have some new opinions as of this morning, personally, but feel free to totally disgree with/ignore them! :) Secondly, as far as the casting goes, if we like anything, we like that Chris Sanders is Stitch again. That might be the only good thing we can see so far in it. I personally think the girl they chose to play Lilo is super cute, and as far as looks go, she looks like Lilo so that's a plus. We can't say anything else yet because we haven't seen her act as Lilo, and we don't know if the writers will butcher the story/the characters entirely yet, so no comment there. I hope she has so much fun! We all wanted to be Lilo at some point as children - now she gets to actually do it! Good for her! What a precious-looking lil lucky duck. I bet she'll do great. Now I'm gonna rant, get excited.

Thirdly, here's my most recent opinion on the film and its cast and all that jazz: people online have been very loud and very obnoxious and very rude about the color of the human cast's skin. Even though these human beings are, in fact, of Hawaiian descent, the way their characters are supposed to be, that's apparently not enough because their skin is "too light". So now we've gotten to a place in our culture where it's not sufficient to be cast in a role with a certain nationality or race that you actually are. No. Your physical skin color, which you can't change and were born with, has to be a certain shade or else it's racist that you were cast and the company is intentionally using you to "whitewash" characters with skin colors that were designed as non-white. I personally think that is ridiculous. If the actress for Nani plays a convincing Nani, and is right for the part, and as a bonus she is a female of Hawaiian descent (because the character in the original film was intentionally created as a native Hawaiian woman living on Kauai), then she should play Nani and no one should have a problem with that. The same goes for the men cast to play David. Which brings me to my fourth opinion: I said men, plural. David has recently been recast. For multiple reasons. The biggest reason being that people were yet again obnoxious and loud online (like they always are) and, because they were still salty that Mr. Machado's born skin color was not the shade they wanted it to be, they dug and dug all over his personal social media accounts in order to find anything incriminating they could yell about to force Disney to recast him. They did find out that he seems fine using rude and offensive terms when referring to African-American people - or that, at one point in the past, he was fine using them - never having met with or spoken to the man himself in the present to find out what he's really like, what he actually believes, or why he posted things of that nature in the past. People didn't like Mr. Machado's skin color, so they were loud and rude and obnoxious and did everything they could in their own free time to get him kicked off of the project, and it worked because modern-day corporate Disney is a sleaze-ball company whose higher-ups only care about money, not whatever they say publicly that they care about. I don't think Mr. Machado (or anyone) should use what people call "racial slurs", ever, because it's terrible. But I also think the public was super weird and boundary-crossing and incredibly silly about this whole thing. Do you actively, regularly go to random strangers' Facebook accounts when you met them in a Starbucks line and you didn't like something about the way they physically look? And then look all over that Facebook account for something that would get them fired from their job? A person you don't even know? Fired from a job you have absolutely nothing to do with? No? Then don't do it to an actor. Why do you care? How do you know what they're really like? People ruined an opportunity (a crappy Disney live-action opportunity, but an opportunity nonetheless) for a young undiscovered actor because they were mad his skin color wasn't what they thought it should be. That sounds racist to me. Anyway. Now they've cast another young gentleman as David, and good for him, lucky for him, and he looks fine to me, but who knows. Maybe they'll rise up and get him fired too for having the wrong-shaped earlobes or something. Stupid. ANYWAY. Llike I said, Arti and I don't really have any other strong opinions on the film beyond the ones listed here. We don't have much faith that it will be good, we don't think it even needs to be made, but we're super excited to hear Mr. Sanders as the voice of Stitch again! Unless they recast him because he's not blue. Then we riot.

[fandoms-in-law]

The Shooting Range

Yeah my St Trinians fics are basically me looking at small scenes from the films and wondering how does that chaos work

Summary: Miss Cleaver's shooting range finds the girls to where the clay duck hats in a couple of ways.

/\/\

One thing which no visitors actually knew about, or ever had much of a clue about unless they're a parent curious over their daughters unexpected knowledge of weapons, was Cleaver's shooting range. The sign was covered as soon as any visitors were sighted on the drive and the ducks set out as if they were props for a school prank.

The only time it wasn't was when a new teacher was joining the school and even then the girls would ensure it's covered until Miss Fritton has started the tour. Then Miss Cleaver opens the shooting range again with business as usual.

Currently the sign said:

Welcome to Cleaver's Anger Management Shooting!

If you just need to shoot something, we've got a range of options from clay duck to mannikins dressed in your enemies clothes.

For dart boards with photos of your enemies please see Miss Fritton.

It wouldn't be long before it was changed again, likely to ask for the clay duck volunteers, or people to make more of those hats.

/\/\

“Got another kid for the clay duck hats.” Andrea commented, looking out the window disinterestedly.

Zoe glanced out as well, rolling her eyes at the sight. “If it'll shut them up, I'm all for it. That laugh was piercing my skull.”

“Maybe Tallulah should accelerate to see if it'd shut her up.” Andrea nodded. “We'll get Kelly or someone to do a family check before Cleaver realises.”

A smirk was directed over to her then, “Maybe we can be ghosts this time. Scare them out of their wits to treating us right.”

“Plan made.”

/\/\

Chelsea couldn't get her hair right. Normally all of the posh totties helped each other, but for some reason Bella had vanished that morning.

Kelly leant around the door of their dressing room after the panic over Chelsea's hair had been going on for a while. “It's AA Forfeit day. Your hair looks fine as it is.”

“Bella has to do a forfeit again? Does she get one vodka a month just to be put in the forfeits?” Chelsea exclaimed, grabbing a comb to do another adjustment to her hair.

Saffy moved to finish her own hair with a few grips to hairs that weren't staying in place with hairspray alone. “I think she misses getting shot at regularly. Nobody threatens pretty girls around here any more.”

“Actually I had a guy last weekend ask how long I'd been at St Trinians. He seemed ready and willing to threaten me until I mentioned it's my final year. The guys in the area know we get more dangerous with time.” Chelsea sighed, straightening her stockings. “And Cleaver should just waive that stupid height restriction.”

Saffy smiled at her, “Why? So we don't have to listen to Bella making the worst comments ever all accurate to how guns work?”

“Those are some conversations I pretend never happened. Who knew the wealthy have such weird things they're into.” Chelsea pretended to wretch, immediately checking her lipstick was okay.

“Chat line woes. Have you spoken to Lucy about getting the options and which of us callers get through to expanded?” Saffy commented. “Maybe letting a few princesses from Cheltenham call us would help plot their schools downfall.”

Chelsea shook her head at her, “If you want to hook up with guys from there we'd need other methods.”

/\/\

“Right Girls! You know why you're here, and better know the rules. Heads down, keep in time, duck out at the end to get your duck replaced, never walk in the shooting area. It's crawling or nothing for you older girls. The matron and first aid cadets are ready for when the shrapnel grazes you.” Miss Cleaver stated, looking over the group pulling on the clay duck hats as well as some knee pads to help reduce pain kneeling and crawling on unpadded flooring.

Bella frowned up at her still. “Have you even reminded the girls that you're opening the range today?”

Usually the targets for the day would have an audience of girls ready to shoot them, checking the equipment while they got ready. None had shown up yet that day.

Cleaver glanced around seemingly noticing this for the first time. “Must have forgot.” She muttered, before bellowing out the door “The Range is open.”

[rosethornewrites]

Thursday & Friday T & G reading

The usual

Finished

Teen:

I Believe in Kindness. Also in Mischief, by covertwallace (5 chapters)

“Probably not,” A-Qing answered. “Lan Sizhui is smart, I’m sure he cooked it long enough.”

“And if he didn’t?”

“You’ll know.” A-Qing took another bite of her meal. “It tastes mostly right.”

She was messing with them, Lan Sizhui realized. That note in her voice was mischief. He ducked his head to hide a smile.

“I lost track of how long I was cooking,” he said, playing up the uncertainty. “But I think it was enough.”

A-Qing shifted so her knee touched his, and knocked them together. “Yeah, it definitely felt like ten minutes.” It had been five at the most, and everyone knew it.

--

local perfect child spoils and pulls pranks with the imported Chaos Goblin

flowerbed, by noctelle

The evening passes like this: drifting thoughts and recollections grafted into stories by the deep, song-like cadence of Wei Wuxian’s voice, tales he tells with his hands for having always spoken more freely with his gestures than his words, the settling weight of sand on a kicked-up riverbed as he relearns the heft of a body that feels more like his than anything has in a long time.

between the pages of some novel, by yuer (vintageblueskies)

“You’ve really never seen anything like it before?” Zizhen asks, “you’re so well-read.”

“Curses are usually more creative than the things you learn about in textbooks,” Wei-qianbei says wryly, “I should know, I’ve gotten cursed multiple times.”

“Maybe it’ll resolve itself by tomorrow,” Zizhen says optimistically.

“Unlikely,” Wei-qianbei says, “but thanks for the thought.”

Sizhui stares at Zizhen. There was something strange about the way Zizhen had said well-read, just as there’s something strange about the curse itself. It seems familiar, as if Sizhui had seen it in a book somewhere.

Between one moment and the next, it hits. Sizhui coughs, his own spit catching in his throat. It can’t be.

-

or, the juniors try to figure out how to tell lwj and wwx that they got hit with a curse that only exists in porn.

General:

There's Nothing Left to Do, by sleepydrag0n03

"Rejoice! Wei Wuxian is Dead!"

There's So Much Left to Do, by sleepydrag0n03 (2nd in a series)

Wei Ying and Lan Sizhui work together to take care of Lan Wangji's duties while he is recovering from an illness.

The Turmoil of the Tipping Point, by MuseofWriting

The Yiling Patriarch has been dead for years, but some nights, Jiang Cheng still can't get him out of his head.

Keep your heart close, by clockwork_spider (4th in a series)

At the age of six, Lan Xichen broke his leg in an attempt to fly.

He still laughs about it when he retells the story.

the crashing waves, by textures_of_the_changing_seasons

They were coming for him. They were hungry and they were coming for him. He stumbled against the tree and slid down to the ground, all composure lost.

There was a swirl of white in front of him that he couldn’t make sense of. Maybe it was the dogs.

Teenage Wei Wuxian has a run-in with some dogs, and Lan Wangji helps him through the ensuing panic attack.

Lan Wangji Likes Mianmian?!, by kat8cha (11 chapters)

When a stalk of bamboo breaks and Wei Wuxian falls into a cursed pond a chain of events is set in motion that ends with a kiss.

Brothers, by virtualbugs (2nd in a series)

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian had always been stubborn. Jin Ling and Lan Sizhui couldn't bear it anymore.

Unfinished

Teen:

An arrow to the heart, by IsilmeLasgalen

If you try to kill someone make sure they are dead or it might actually make them stronger. Wei Ying can take a lot as long as he knew his A Yuan and his Lan Zhan were safe and sound but they should have never, ever hurt his family.

Nanny Wei, by Odae

“I have an ostrich,” said A-Yuan, “and a bear. Will you do the voices for them, too?”

Wei Ying let out a small laugh. “Weren’t you the one who said animals can’t talk?”

“Please?” A-Yuan said, so politely and so earnestly, Wei Ying wanted to cry.

He almost didn’t hear it when Lan Zhan asked, “When can you start?”

Wei Ying had no style, no flair, but he was there. That's how he became the nanny!

General:

Watching Wei Wuxian's Memories, by Snowcrawford

Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji and the rest of the cultivation world watch Wei Wuxian's memories.

“Wei ying don’t leave me again”

“I won't, I promise." Wei Wuxian grabbed Lan Wangji chin made him look at his eyes, "Look at me Lan Zhan, I won't leave you again. I promise zhiji.”

[herotome]

Features + Love Interests

ABOUT THE GAME

Herotome is an urban fantasy visual novel where superheroes work as officially sanctioned, crime-fighting celebrities. The game is in development for PC and will be free-to-play, offering important choices and some very, incredibly stupid ones.

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FEATURES

10,000 words in the early demo, and at least 20,700 more words coming soon.

A cat who loves you!

A very good service puppy you can save (and pet)!

Many, many dialogue choices with which to express yourself. Kiss a dangerous, clammy stranger! Tell your landlord he'll never amount to anything! Accuse your superhero mentor of stalking you! The world is your oyster.

A sensible and expressive protagonist who will argue with you if you insist on making her do stupid things (but she will do it anyway - most of the time).

Dynamic sprites and CGs where the characters will visibly react to your choices.

A diverse, ace/aro-friendly cast of love interests who can be emboldened or cut down as you please. They will be chill if you choose non-romantic options - even if they've already fallen for you.

Not only can you befriend them, you can encourage them to practice empathy and help them befriend each other. Or stir the pot and manifest misunderstandings and chaos until everything falls apart.

Glory or Ruin? The world is yours.

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CURRENT LOVE INTERESTS

[Text ID]: Warden, he/him. Birthday April 17th (Aries). Likes pretzels, boxing, and fidget spinners. Dislikes losing and loud noises.

Underneath the chiseled all-star persona and the glimmering smile, Warden is something of an adrenaline junkie. He's warm and energetic at best, but impulsive and easily goaded at worst. With the amount of time he spends fighting crime in the public eye, one begins to wonder if he even has a private life.

Recently, Warden got moved up to a leadership role in his agency. The promotion doesn't sit well with a lot of people, including Warden himself.

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[Text ID]: Griffin, he/she. Birthday February 2nd (Aquarius). Likes research, banter, hot coffee. Dislikes modesty and taxes.

Griffin appears charming and well-spoken to say the least, yet he only ever seems to say enough to get his point across.

Criticism and insult roll off of her like water off a duck's back, but one has to wonder how much of this is a front, hiding an internal self few get to glimpse. Still, even with the insistent practice of tact, she seems to enjoy spirited banter and friendly, conspiratorial gossip.

Note: Griffin uses ONLY he/she pronouns at this time, and is NOT a gender-selectable character! .

[Text ID]: Mia Steel, she/her. Birthday July 23rd (Leo). Likes fashion, cooking, fast cars. Dislikes the Heroine and heights.

Mia is guided by strong morals. She's also irritable, defensive, and judgmental - but this mask shields a vulnerable, self-critical heart that craves connection with the people around her. She has difficulty holding her tongue, but she would never want to hurt your feelings.

Because she's in desperate want of validation from her superiors, Mia feels threatened by your newfound role on the team. As such, she'd kindly appreciate if you fucked off.

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FUTURE LOVE INTERESTS

Dart: He/Him. A quiet and serious member of the agency focused on his own goals. His outwardly aloof demeanor has fed into his popularity and earned him a cult following. He appears to have a personal vendetta against a villain known as Evil Eye.

Myster: He/Him. A former member of the agency who you’ll meet via messenger. He’s strangely excited to speak with you, almost as if he’s met you before…

Jade: She/Her. The most popular hero currently working in the agency. Although she seems secretive and coy, she’s actually suffering from severe anxiety.

★  Play the early alpha demo on itch.io! (Prologue)

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MOBILE-FRIENDLY NAVIGATION

★ Voice Acted CG Teaser Video | ★ The Latest Weekly Update | ★ Taglist & FAQ | ★ Ask me something! | ★ My Ko-Fi | ★ Linktr.ee | ✪ Indiegogo (Coming soon)

-> Pinned post!

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Reblogs appreciated! The next installment's release date will be announced when Griffin starts blinking. ;)

[wrenqueenisboss]

Poison Fungus - c!George x gn!reader

Even beautiful things become toxic after enough time

characters: mushroom!george x gn!reader, dream, wilbur, sapnap, DreamXD warnings: cursing, angst pronouns: you/yours, (they/them if used) Words:

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

The grass was soft underneath you as stared at the sky, lazily petting the sleek fur of your pet fox. Birds chirp their morning conversations to each other and a light breeze tickles your skin.

It has been a while since you traveled into the heart - the most populated parts - of the server, having escaped for a quieter life after the… chaos of everything.

The loneliness makes your mind wander. You relive memories. Sad and happy. Bittersweet and purely joyful. But one face stands out. His.

In every memory, you see his round white glasses. The dark lenses hiding the deep and soulful brown eyes you remember so well. The mushroom hat he always wore.

“This is a stupid hat,” George grumbled, trying to take the mushroom–inspired hat off of his head.

You giggled and grabbed his hands, stopping him. “George, no! It looks cute on you. Keep it.”

A bright red blush rose to his face at the compliment and he ducked his head in embarrassment. You smiled.

A wistful, longing sigh left your lips. Yes, life was peaceful out in the forests. But it was also lonely. No one to talk to. Except, of course, your pet. Red, your fox, was a great pet. But he wasn’t the same.

“You seem lonely, human.”

You yelped and scrambled to your feet to face the mysterious new… being? He was wearing long green robes and a mask. The 'x' where the eyes would were was gold. Or glowing. Glowing gold.

"I hope you know he's still alive."

"George?" The name stole the breath from your lungs. The thoughts from your mind. The beat from your heart. The life from your eyes. Just saying his name again brought back so many memories. Of the laughter. The tears. The warmth. The loneliness. All of it.

"He dreams of you often," the god-like being said in the distorted voice of his. "He never mentions your name, but now that I've seen you, I know who he talks about so often."

"I- I don't want to see him."

"Why? He wants to see you."

"It's painful. For both of us."

It occurs to you then that you are speaking to a random god. Someone you've never met before. But it's been so long since you've spoken to anyone, so you couldn't care less.

"Understood," the god said. "but just know that if you don't speak to him again soon, you may lose him."

The warmth in your eyes that had once been there was gone. Only glittery ice. "George lost me a long time ago."

Tagging:

@allywritesforfun @gray-moon2 @pixviepie