Been so busy with various things I haven’t had time to draw but there’s 3 different work in progress pictures at the same time orz. Here’s another one, hopefully I’ll be able to finish this and the others soon.
When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn.
Summary: It’s like every single Alpha on the planet won’t rest until they’ve confessed their eternal wish for you to mother their children, and it’s getting old. Luckily, that’s a problem Bucky might be able to fix.
Warnings: language, a/b/o dynamics
A/N: part 3!! things are getting more intense, let me know if you like where its going! also just a reminder, the tag list for this fic is closed for the moment so please dont’t ask!
Waking up is torture because it feels so good. You’re warm in a way that doesn’t just feel skin deep, but more like every bone is glowing with something so satisfying it almost aches. It takes you a few sweet, sleepy seconds to realise exactly why you’re waking up more well rested than you’ve ever been in your life, and then the whole illusion shatters.
Sometime in the night you and Bucky had shifted until he was lying on his back, long legs dangling off the end of the couch and his arms wrapped tight around you curled up on his chest. Sun streaks warm through the windows and glass walls - glass walls, because you fell asleep in your office literally on top of Bucky. You make a highly undignified squeak and try to sit up, which only succeeds in dislodging Bucky’s grip on you and sending you crashing to the floor.
Pairing: George x Reader
Request: Omg I love that idea about the Weasley twins not wanted to be related to another redhead! You should totally write something around that you are an amazing writer ❤️
A/N: literally the prompt of a Weasley twin dating a redhead was the reason I created this Imagines account, but I put so much pressure on myself to make it good that I never really wrote one! Here we go…
Squicks: bit of bad language
Since it’s such a rarity, news traveled around Hogwarts at record speed that there was a new transfer student. Some say she’s transferred from Beauxbatons, some say Ivermony, some say she’s from some unknown wizarding school in Australia. Some even think that she’s never even been to a Wizarding school before…. One thing’s for sure: she’ll be entering year 3 at Hogwarts this year.
You were walking to your new common room known as Gryffindor. The deputy headmaster, Professor McGonagall (who also happens to be head of Gryffindor house), had arranged for you to have your own sorting ceremony during dinner. “Gryffindor!” The sorting hat had shouted across the room. The table coloured in red and gold cheered and hollered, and you felt welcomed right away.
If only other houses were as welcoming…
On your way to Gryffindor tower, you (unfortunately) met a boy with platinum blonde hair and emerald green robes. Nothing about him intimidated you, and his cocky stride was almost laughable.
He scoffs, “god, don’t tell me there’s another Weasley who’s come to embarrass themselves,"
You usually came up with comebacks at an impressing speed and an even more impressing level of sass, but you were loss with this one, because what in hell was a Weasley?
You ask him exactly that, and he laughs bitterly, turning to look at his other little friends to make sure they were laughing too, before he looks past your head while speaking,
"A Weasley is a pathetic excuse for a wizard, who can hardly cast the most basic of spells and are just all-round filth”.
"Watch your fucking mouth, Malfoy,“ a tall boy with shoulder-length hair the same colour as yours says, stepping forward from behind you,
"You’ve got some nerve saying shit like that with how many of us sleep in the same building as you,” says the same boy again, except he’s now on your other side, and also isn’t the same boy.
You’ve gotten no closer to finding the answer to your question. While the two red headed twins are both identical in almost every way, you took a slight more of a liking already to the second one, somehow.
"Can someone please tell me what a Weasley actually is?!“
"It’s our last name,” the twins both respond in unison, to which the younger blonde boy laughs, again.
"Early indicators of being a Weasley are that you’ve got the flaming red hair and borrowed school supplies; bonus points since you didn’t even pay for yours!“
Now that you’ve got the context you were after, there was no holding back.
"Bitch these clothes are probably older than both you and I combined and I still look a damn sight better than you could even dream of looking… with all the money you claim to have I thought you’d put up more of a fight you snobby little prat,"
The twin you took a fancy to - George - stood in stunned silence, his eyes wide and a slight smile tugging at his lips. He’d have smiled more if he wasn’t so shocked by the new girl’s sudden outburst. Fred on the other hand was laughing like a maniac. He looked like a fool, but this was noting compared to how Malfoy looked.
The blonde boy’s face was red with anger, and he had a disgusted look on his face, as if he was so far above you, yet extremely offended and taken aback.
"You want to side with the filthy blood traitors then be my guest, but don’t come running to me when you realise the mistake you’ve made by associating yourself with them”.
The twins had stopped laughing, giving a disinterested grunt at Malfoy and rolling their eyes. You, however, weren’t going to drop this quite so easily.
"Let’s see…“ you began, causing Fred to elbow George in anticipation for you to roast Malfoy again, "who would I rather associate myself with: a pompous little brat who’s ego is higher than his IQ, who can only validate himself through insults barely worthy of a six year old, and who is also a materialistic little bitch who can’t stand not having his way!” you say, using the bitchiest tone you can possibly muster,
"Or, would I rather associate myself with these two fine gentlemen who are by far more attractive, actually have a working brain, a sense of humour and are actually worthy of my time. I’ve known the three of you for not even ten minutes and the choice is crystal clear,"
The twins looked rather chuffed at the flow of shameless compliments, while Malfoy said coldly, "suit yourself, be a Weasley if that’s what you want to lower yourself to”.
You change your tone to that of one dripping with flirtiness, “by what I’m seeing of the twin to my left, maybe having the honour of becoming a Weasley one day wouldn’t be so bad,” you say, turning your head to George as you speak and ending it with a wink, to which he blushes and Fred laughs, “and don’t be surprised when Mr. Malfoy dies a lonely bachelor who could never keep a girl satisfied for longer than three minutes - if your simple brain can figure out what I’m implying here”.
And with that, you turned on your heel to continue your journey up to Gryffindor Tower, your red hair swishing as you do so. You twirl around as you walk gracefully to look at the boys. All you could see was the back of Malfoy’s head (a definite improvement), Fred shaking his brother by the shoulders and loudly stating how lucky the other brother is, who was still staring at you, cheeks tinted pink and a wide smile across his face.
Sorry it’s been so long! I’ll try and be more active… life has been busy busy busy I tell you
Red Towers is a beautiful Gothic-inspired castle. Inside you will find: six bedrooms, three bathrooms, kitchen, dining room, living room, office, games room, children’s rooms, gym, pool, basement and music room. It will give your sim a lot of activities and fun. Your sim will not get bored. The house is fully furnished and ready to move in.
House tested in the game. I hope you will like it!
SPEAKING OF MONSTER GIRLS i just rediscovered a thing i started last year and then forgot about
The grand escape from certain doom in a foreign land was going very well until xe fell off a cliff.
To be fair, it was not an obvious cliff. Nor was it a large cliff. It barely even qualified as a cliff. A ledge. A short drop. It was more of a slide than a fall, even. But there was a lot of shrieking, and skirts going in all directions, and legs going in two directions. It was almost as alarming to watch as it was to experience.
Lily Rose of the House of the Fifth Blue Star landed safely in rotting leaves and dirt. It felt a bit anticlimactic. With the amount of fuss xe’d made in falling, xe’d expected at least one broken ankle. Or two sprained ones. Either or. Instead xe was fine, which made all the screaming quite silly in retrospect. Dainty cloven hooves speared through leaves to find solid ground to stand on, rising up on spindly legs. Xe tried to straighten out xyr skirts, but only managed to fix about half of them. There were a lot of skirts. Xe resembled a layer cake made by someone with more enthusiasm than skill.
A layer cake which had then been thrown off a cliff. Which, to be fair: one might, if one was possessed both in close proximity. For curiosity’s sake, if nothing else.
Leaves had tangled in the ribbons wrapped around xyr antlers, and xe huffed as xe tried to fix them. Just because xe was mounting a grand escape from certain doom didn’t mean xe had to look like a ragamuffin while doing it.
All four hands froze at the sound of an ominous hiss. In xyr limited experience, most hissing was ominous. Xe could not recall having ever heard a hiss that boded well. Xe blinked, switching xyr optic sensors into night-mode to better see what lurked in the shadows of the trees.
Xe shrieked again.
Xe then clapped two hands over xyr mouth, because shrieking was both unproductive and rude.
She slid out from beneath the trees, five times more tail than torso and all of it much larger than Rose. She was pale opalescent scales and shimmering golden horns, black eyes and a blood-red mouth. Of her two arms, only one was organic; the other was gold, white light at the seams. Both hands had too many fingers, too many joints, too long, too sharp. Her open mouth revealed glinting fangs as she made more hissing sounds.
Rose squeaked, xyr eyes switching back to a setting less blinding. Then, because xe was at a loss for what to do, xe curtsied. Xe had a vague hope that it would cause enough confusion to buy xem some time. From what, xe did not know.
She scratched her chin, cocking her head to the side. Then she reached into the pocket of her doublet, and offered Rose a small sliver of gold on the tip of one finger.
“Oh!” Rose blinked in surprise. Xe had never seen a Shethi before; xe had not anticipated the size differences. Or the scales. “Yes, I suppose that would help, wouldn’t it?” Xe took careful steps closer, two hands holding xyr skirts up enough that xe wouldn’t step on them. Accepting the gift, xe set it on xyr tongue to press it to the roof of xyr mouth. It hummed, and the two of them waited in awkward silence for the data transfer to complete.
She reached out, and plucked a leaf from Rose’s antlers. Xyr ears twitched reflexively, and xe could feel xyr nose turn purple. She cocked her head to the side again, watching. Rose tried not to stare at her horns.
They were much bigger than xyrs.
Xe sighed in relief when the humming stopped, pulling the chip out of xyr mouth to tuck it into a small pocket. “Is this better?” xe transmitted hopefully.
“Much,” the stranger confirmed. “Why are you in my garden?”
Rose blinked again. Xe looked around them, at the little clearing in the woods. They were surrounded by nothing but dead trees, like a little graveyard amidst the towering red trunks. Everything smelled of rot and mold. Xyr nose twitched.
“This is a garden?” xe asked.
She reached for Rose again, and this time xe recoiled, because her hand was going for xyr bodice. She plucked a small mushroom from where it had been trapped in the laces, and held it up so xe could see. Xe covered xyr nose, as if that would make the blushing less obvious. “Yes,” she said simply.
“Oh.” Xe sagged. “It… was an accident.”
She rolled the fingers of her golden hand thoughfully, the joints all chiming as she did so. “I am Yana,” she said. “And you are?”
Again, Rose curtsied. “Lily Rose of the House of the Fifth Blue Star,” xe introduced.
“Ah.” Her face became distant as she processed this information. “You’re the gift from Koret.” It wasn’t a question. “Why are you here?”
“Diplomacy?” xe suggested.
“Not here,” she said, making a wide gesture with her hands. She pointed to the ground beneath them. “Here. You’re supposed to be at the palace.”
Rose fidgeted. “Can you keep a secret?”
“I can,” she said with an inclination of her head.
“I ran away,” xe said.
Yana scratched her chin again. “Between you and me,” she said, “I don’t think that will be a secret for very long.”
“Well, no,” xe agreed. “The secret is that I’m here.” Rose pointed to the ground beneath them. “I haven’t made it very far, you see, and if I could at least make it a little further it would be less embarrassing.”
“I see.” She steepled her fingers. “Your plan was to live in the woods?”
Xe scuffed her hooves in the dirt. “For a while,” xe said.
“And what were you going to eat?”
“Small rodents and large insects?” xe suggested.
“I see,” she said again, in a manner that did not inspire confidence. “You find this preferable to marriage?”
“Am I supposed to get married?” Rose asked. “I wasn’t sure.”
Yana frowned. “Did no one tell you?”
“I read the treaty,” xe said, “but we had some trouble translating a few things.”
“What did you think you were signing?”
“The point of confusion was,” xe explained, “I was either supposed to marry a King, or be eaten by a dragon.”
Yana shut her eyes, golden fingers draped over her face. “Those are certainly… concepts.” She dropped her hand. “Why did no one ask for clarification?”
“Then we would have to admit we needed clarification,” xe explained. “We didn’t want the Shethi to think we were stupid.”
“I see.” Yana had, Rose realized, been moving her tail while they spoke. It did not quite circle xem, but it came close. Xe stamped an anxious hoof. “So you agreed to come here not knowing if you were meant to be married or eaten?”
“In fairness,” xe said, “there was only a fifty percent chance I would have to marry a King.”
You can choose to write this or not but consider! :0 a bully shoves Jeremy against a locker which causes his nose to bleed and then protective Michael
I’m not going to write a really big thing for this, but I’m going to write a thing.
Setting: Freshman Year (It’s okay if you sang this in Rich’s voice in your head because I did too)
High school, Michael thinks, is far too big and far too confusing for a mind that is still trapped in the comfort of middle school. He’s spent the better half of five minutes trying to navigate around students far larger than himself in order to find Jeremy’s locker.
When the masses of students begin to dwindle, Michael realizes he’s running short on time, but he has to find Jeremy first. They made a pact on the first day to always meet up after every class no matter what. To them, this isn’t just high school; it’s also survival.
Now that there aren’t what feels like thousands of students crowding around, it doesn’t take Michael long to spot Jeremy at his locker, but Jeremy’s not alone.
In front of Jeremy is a towering red-head who does not appear friendly at all. Michael watches as the red-head shouts at Jeremy, but then the next few seconds appear to Michael’s narrowed eyes as if in slow motion.
Jeremy turns his back on the red-head to open his locker, but the red-head doesn’t leave. Instead, he shoves two palms against Jeremy’s back, forcing the brunet face-first into the locker.
Michael’s blood begins to boil, and a dangerous red colors over his normally welcoming eyes. Time shifts back to normal just as he starts toward the two.
Both Jeremy and the red-head look toward Michael, and Michael allows a brief moment of fear when he spots the blood seeping out from Jeremy’s hand that’s cupped over his nose before anger takes center hold within his chest once more. He stalks up to the red-head with his hands curled into fists at his side, and then he swings.
Here’s a perk of being left-handed: people never see a punch coming. Michael’s knuckles crash against the red-head’s cheek, and said boy stumbles backwards, eyes wide in surprise.
For a moment, no one moves, and the three fall deathly silent, save Michael’s harsh panting as adrenaline courses through his body. But, after a few moments, the red-head laughs.
“You’ve got some serious balls, freshie.”
Michael steps around until he’s planted in front of Jeremy as a human shield, and he narrows his eyes, staring dangerously at the red-head.
“Chill, dude. I’m leaving.”
Michael and Jeremy watch as the red-head turns on his heel and walks off, and it’s only when the guy is out of sight that Michael spins around pushes up slightly on his toes to get a better look at Jeremy’s nose.
Despite the blood and bruising, Jeremy smiles, and Michael frowns at this, briefly wondering if perhaps Jeremy hit his head.
“Dude, that was so awesome! Thank you.” Jeremy says, voice a spitting image of someone in awe.
Michael rocks back on his heels, and his lips curl up into a wide smile. “I’ve got your back.”