Picture this- mini giant and a human (or even full scale g/t if you wanna torment yourself with the making it work) dancing.
BUT
The tiny is insistent that they are the lead (or vice versa and the giant assures the tiny they do not lead.)
Maybe subtextually it's to protect their ego (I'm tough/masculine/strong/in control therefore I must lead, or I'm dainty/pretty/cute/feminine therefor I'm not going to lead), or maybe they only know the one way and are just panicking like
"It's the only way I know!! I can't follow/lead" and they're just terrified of screwing up in front of a crowd.
Make it angst, make it funny, make it both- but my GOODNESS! Just the thought of the ridiculous visuals ??
Certain things wouldnt be too bad, like looping spins rather than anything above the head, spins from the waist, but they'd have to get creative for anything more- like how do they get their hand high enough to twirl their partner??
Or even getting cocky enough to attempt a dip??
Certain powered tinys could have an advantage, enough strength to dip them, or if they can fly it'd be easy enough to twirl their partner but my GOODNESS
It's simultaneously so silly, and so cute and even a lil angsty.
Part 1 of [somewhat] functional tiny in the internet I’m mostly succeeding at not buying (for now)
Just saying, if I DID meet a small being, could easily hook them up thanks to the modern functional miniature scene 👀 I have much restraint as it currently stands…for now
just saw a tweet that said something along the lines of "i don't care those babies died bc palestinians babies died first so" and then a retweet adding "october 7th doesn't matter unless it does in (every year ever)" and i just. are you people human. do you understand that human life is human life and a loss is a loss. no one should have to die over this. you can and should be caring about both losses of life. i don't know how the fuck y'all are so progressive and just care so much about everyone, but think you can only care about one set of innocents dying or else you'll somehow betray them by caring about the other one, too. did humanity even exist in these circles in the first place, because every day i'm less and less sure. i don't even know if y'all actually care about palestinians either anymore. it's all just some fucking game to you.
could never relate to a fic snob bc personally those fics written by fourteen year olds on their phones in the middle of their algebra class or on the bus that read like a soap opera on speed are my weakness i LOVE them i can't ever get enough of them they're my favorite i stay glued to the screen eagerly awaiting updates fr like . 10/10 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ A+ thank you so much for putting those guys in 92726282384773733 different situations i owe you my LIFE
meralyn blackwood & open
location → gardens of the red keep
Meralyn bent at the waist to admire a pretty mix of goldencups and lady's lace, and brushed her fingers delicately over the soft yellow petals. A smile pulled at her lips as the sound of a lyre broke through the quiet chirping of birds and far-off murmurings of nearby courtiers, and she turned her face away from the flowers to spy the bard responsible for the strumming. The musician evaded her sight, but she heard a man's lilting voice beginning to sing, and straightened her posture.
She enjoyed the sounds of harps and fiddles and the like, and the gentle crooning of bards who sang old and beloved songs. As she walked towards the noise, she wondered at the name of the melody the bard played — she thought the tune might have sounded familiar, and she strained her ears to hear the distant singing.
...his eyes, once vibrant, turned hollow and bleak, as he clawed at the heavens, no solace to seek...his roar, once thunderous, now twisted in pain, echoed through the valleys, a haunting refrain...
Meralyn stilled, and felt her stomach twist uncomfortably. She knew then that she had never heard the song before — and knew it was Rhaegar the hidden bard sang of. The thought to run back inside the keep occurred simultaneously with the thought to chase after the singer; to see the face of the man who so boldly sang against the deceased King within the grounds of the keep. She thought to force herself to choose the former, and half-turned when the singing began again. It was nearer this time — perhaps just over the hedges guarding the path she walked now.
...with every breath, their flames grow dim, whispering secrets on a fragile whim...their scales one gleaming, now grow frail, we wonder indeed if they shall prevail...
Good sense was abandoned for favor of chasing after the treasonous words, though as Merry turned the corner to where she was certain she had heard the singing, she was met instead with an empty courtyard; quiet but for the bubbling of a nearby fountain. Her dark brow furrowed, and she turned round in a circle in search of some sign of the man. Her shoulders slumped as nothingness greeted her, and she could not help the thought: should I speak of this to anyone?
...oh dragons of summer, now ailing and weak...
Her head snapped upwards at the distant sound, and Meralyn hurried towards it before she could talk herself against it. She turned swiftly round a corner, and was forced to quickly stumble back a half-step to prevent herself from colliding with the person she found standing there.
"Oh," she said in surprise, her dark eyes wide as she took in the sight of the courtier before her. Not a lyre to be found. "Forgive me my clumsiness," she amended, a smile working its way quickly onto her lips. "I was just —..." She laughed quietly in the absence of knowing what she ought to say, and smoothed away the hairs that had escaped her careful braid. " — Confused," she decided upon, "confused and lost."